You Are Not the Sun

Chapter One

Jesus Christ, has it really been thirteen years? Thirteen years since Harry, Ron and I met. Thirteen years since Draco Malfoy began teasing me, only so many years since I've been considered a bookworm. Thirteen years to mark the trio's never-ending friendship. The lucky number of years that have kept us as close as siblings and as distant for the things we've faced. Thirteen.

Six years. Has it been six years? I ask myself this every day as I walk to work, as I walk up the stairs, past his office and go sit in my own. Six entire years since I graduated from Hogwarts, it was my one and only real home. Six damn years since everything went normal; uneasily silent. Six whole years.

It's been four years since I've been working at the Ministry. Two years of dull apprentice work, but two of gratifying Auror work. Four years of walking by him in the hall; both silent waiting awkwardly for our floors in the lift, breathing shallow. Trying to ignore each other as best we could for four full years; but always failing miserably.

Three years since Ron and I have been engaged. Two years of bliss and watching him play for the Cannons. Two years of having a stable relationship to fall back on. Two years of Harry and Ginny's soft and pleased looks, as though they had created the love themselves. Only two years.

One year. It has been one year since Ron has been ignoring me. For a whole year he was practically never home. Always training or on some tournament. And when he did come home, he wouldn't stay long, he would not touch me. He was tired. He would not have me at all. For a whole year I slept alone in all ways.

A single month. It has been a miniscule month since Ron broke off our engagement. He said he fell in love with another witch while he was training in Greece. Apparently she is beautiful; this is what Mrs. Weasley tells me. A month of tears and wondering what I had done wrong. Is being myself wrong? A small month stretched to eternity to show me how undesirable I am. One month all too much.

A week since he smiled at me. It was a real smile, and it was directed at me. But all it held was an empathy that I did not need. Nonetheless it was a smile. As miniscule and timid as it was, his lips stretched lightly and parted. It has been a week since he smiled at me.

Two minutes. Correction: three minutes. He asked me out for coffee. Just for coffee, not to discuss anything work related. All he wants is a coffee; I prefer mine black. His eyes didn't meet mine, but the understanding is there. It has now been four minutes since he asked me for coffee.

"Granger?" Draco whispered; he was worried about her health. He had asked her for coffee five minutes ago and she had yet to answer him. She was staring somewhere around the third button on his shirt. Her eyes were wide open and glazed softly, like a renaissance painting. The sound of his voice woke her and she looked up at him.

"Yes" she said simply. Now he was more worried, why had it taken her so long to answer a simple question?

"Okay, I'll drop by your office at five" he said slowly and clearly making sure she understood what he was saying. She nodded, but she didn't seem to be really aware yet. He smiled softly wondering what was really going through her mind.

He awkwardly patted her hand and began to walk out of her office. When he reached her door he turned back to glance at her, she was staring at her hand as though it was detached from her body.

Was it enough to say he felt awful for her? The whole ministry had avoided her for a month, unsure of what to say. Side-stepping her as though she held some contagious disease. It was common knowledge that Weasley had left her for some Greek model.

Ganger had simply come in to work one day, silent and cold. She didn't greet anyone, nor did she talk for the whole day. She entered her corner office at eight in the morning, and left at five in the afternoon. Again, existing as though she was the only person there; ignoring the real world circling her. Wrapped up in some little world of her own she became no more than a ghost.

By that evening the gossip was already being pressed for tomorrow's paper and her story was on the cover page.

Cannon's Keeper Ronald Weasley Breaks Engagement with Long Time Girlfriend and Member of Golden Trio Hermione Jane Granger!

He had read the story and had felt sick about the whole thing. He and Granger were never on good terms, even though they were on the same side. But what Weasley had done was just wrong. He could empathize with Granger. Parkinson had done the same thing to him, he dated her for seven years, and then last year she just decided that he wasn't her type. Apparently Gregory Goyle was, or rather still is. From the new he had heard lately, it seemed they were getting serious. He hadn't loved Pansy, but he had grown to love her in an endearing way. It hurt all the same.

So why had he asked Granger for coffee? It had very little to do with her personal issues with Weasley and more to do with wanting to be near her. He was more alone here in the Auror office than anywhere before in his life.

People still had preconceived notions, and few were willing to give him a chance, and to get to know him. Even after four years of working side by side with him. So he was always alone…

Granger he knew, and somehow he felt that if anybody gave him a chance it might have been her. She knew what he had done for the order, she understood what position he was in, and other didn't know anything. They had no idea what he lived through to bring them this peace they were already beginning to take for granted.

He and Granger always shared tense moments, the kind where you expect the other person to talk, but then they don't so you keep quiet yourself. It happened a few times a day. They would greet each other shortly and then continue their game of ignoring each other. He had always been fascinated with her, since first year. Her intelligence made her seem far off and rather inhuman in her bookish ways.

When Weasley left her he finally saw the young woman behind the wall of books. Her face was strained with pain, her body rigid and uptight. It attracted him to her. Not in any sexual way, but simply because now she was approachable. Here she was, human and broken. And maybe he could soothe her pain. Even if it was just with coffee.

Less intimidating and much softer than before Granger seemed much more interesting. As though there was more to get to know now than facts and assignments. That enticed him.

Granger needed a friend right now, someone who wasn't connected to Weasley, she needed someone relatively new. And that was him; he had decided it so. Even though it had taken him four years to ask her to coffee, he had finally done it. And an end was an end no matter when it came.

It was terrifying in so many ways. He felt soft all over. He couldn't explain it, but since seventh year he had felt so detached from himself. Betraying his family and friends, to do the right thing…it changed him. He floated by these past six years as though he was non-existent. But rather nothing more than a soft fuzzy cloud unable to ground itself in reality.

He had nothing to associate himself with, so it was hard to define himself.

Draco Malfoy; a six foot two, wheat blond hair, grey eyed, Auror. That was his only applicable definition of himself. It was pathetic and shallow, but it was life; his life.

The door closed softly behind him with a click, but not before a few letters flew in and landed on his desk. He sat back into his leather chair and looked at the stacks of papers on his desk that Derek had dropped off. There were at least thirty cases to review before he could leave. He sighed, straightened his back and began by opening the folder that was at the top of the file.

Hermione kept looking at her hand where he had touched her for another good ten minutes. She placed the 'hand touch' into the logical order of events in her mind. Adding date and time. She had spent the last month placing her whole life in perfect chronological order in her head.

It was distraction from everything else. A distraction from sympathy and from having to feel emotions she would have been better off without. She sighed and looked back to the file on her desk. A minor misdemeanour; nothing more than that. The trial date was on Oct 26th. Guilty for jinxing a whistle that shrinks the blower's mouth into nothing. A minor fine and perhaps some community service?

Derek Bloom, case covered on October 18th and considered absolutely lame, right after Draco Malfoy asked me for a coffee and then touched my hand.

Malfoy placed down the last folder and looked at the clock. It was ten to five and he was a punctual man. He packed his things into his briefcase and apparated it home. He checked his hair in his mirror brushing stray strands from his eyes. Must make a good impression always, regardless of whose company you are in. He straightened his suit and exited his office walking down the hall to Grangers office. His fingers were tapping nervously on his thigh.

Hermione fixed her hair. She had finished her files at four forty-five and at four fifty she had got up from her desk to go fix her hair. Exactly what she was doing now in fact, she was smoothing it down with the help of her wand. She must looked presentable, who the company happened to be was irrelevant.

A knock on her door, three strong raps.

Now at four fifty-five Draco Malfoy was outside her door ready to take her for coffee. She pulled her sweater down and smoothed her skirt before going to answer the knock at exactly four fifty-six.