Her thoughts are confused. She has no way of knowing how they ended up at this point: she almost slit his throat, and he apologised in his own manner.
His fingers end up on her neck, hot and rough. They burrow into her hair, and Hermione closes her eyes. The goosebumps make her legs shake. With a hoarse sigh, he leans towards her, closer to the sore corner of her mouth. His breath licks her palate as Hermione opens her mouth. Malfoy whispers, scorching her cheek with his damp breath:
"Hermione."
Her name, spoken in his voice, doesn't surprise her. She's heard it before. Once upon a time, long ago, she'd heard it. Once upon a time long ago she kissed him. Once long ago she looked into his eyes to find and reclaim herself.
A buzzing starts in her head. Just a little more, and her lips would touch his lips. Again. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to her.
Because she knows what it's like to love him. How it is to heal his wounds and kiss him and protect him.
Read Prometheus on ao3.
