Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.
When she steps out of the floo, it is the color of her robes. He sees the color in her bloodshot eyes and in the blush of her cheeks. As she argues, it is the color that creeps up her neck. When he looks down at his hands, curled into fists, it is the color of his skin. When she leaves and he closes his eyes, it is the color behind his lids. When he sees her picture in the Daily Prophet a few weeks later, it is the color of hair of the man she kisses.
"I'm just here for my things, Draco," Hermione sighed, looking over her shoulder at him. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.
"I know why you're here. I just don't understand why you won't listen to me. Leave your things. We can work this out, Hermione," he responded.
"We've been trying to work this out. It's not working anymore. You know it, I know it. All we do is fight. You come home at these ungodly hours and won't tell me where you've been or who you're with. I can't help but think you're seeing someone else."
"Not. Yes, Draco, I know that's what you say. But if that's the case, why can't you tell me what you are doing?" She stopped packing her bag and turned around to face him. He stood straight and dropped his arms to his side. Her eyes looked like she'd been crying and he desperately wanted to pull her to his chest. He wanted to tell her that he'd gotten himself into a spot of trouble with his father's company and was trying to remedy the situation. He wanted to tell her that the business associates were an unsavory type and he didn't want her involved in case anything were to go sideways. It killed him that she thought he would be involved with anyone else. How could he, when the only woman he wanted anything to do with was standing in front of him?
"Hermione, please," he pleaded. "I think I've got it worked out. I think it's over with now. Please. Just give me another chance." Draco didn't think he'd ever begged a woman to stay with him before now. She was the only one worth it.
For a moment, he thought he had her. Her expression softened and she looked ready to give in, but then her face hardened again and she turned her back on him, stuffing a few more items in the bag and zipping it shut. "This has been going on for months. I'm not happy anymore, Draco. I'm sorry," she said, swinging the bag up onto her shoulder and shoving past him through the doorway.
He followed her to the living room, where she gathered some floo powder from the mantle and stepped into the fireplace. She swallowed hard and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "I'm staying with Harry and Ginny at Grimmauld. Send me an owl when you'll be out of the flat. I'll come for the rest of my things then. I think it's best if you're not here," she told him.
All he could do was nod. A second later, she was gone and he was alone.