"Honey, I'm home!" he announced as he stepped out of the fireplace dusting some ash off his Tom Ford suit.
The greeting had stared as a mock on conventional customs about relationships and gender norms, but it had stuck and quickly became routine. Not that it meant anything.
"How did the meeting go?" she asked from where she sat by the kitchen table reading a report.
He entered the kitchen and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, like he always did. She, in turn, let out a small hum of content, like she always did.
"Urgh, it went awful. You'd think there's a daft oaf running the company." he walked over to the stove and inspected the stew simmering in the pot. "Mmh, smells good."
Hermione looked up from her papers:
"Malfoy, you're running the company."
"Oh, I suppose you're right. I mean you'd think there's a daft, devilishly handsome, oaf running the company." he smirked.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Gringotts didn't agree to the loan, eh?" she asked.
"Sadly no. They said the risk management strategy lacked some vital parts. But hey, fuck 'em. I'll have Pansy add some fancy words to it and it'll be alright. But enough about that. Right now it's time for the unveiling of This Friday's Fancy Flask." Draco pulled a wrapped bottle from his saddlebag and placed it on top of Hermione's papers.
Hermione looked from the bottle to Draco in mild annoyance. Draco, not the least bit phased by her attitude, said,
"Granger, it's six o'clock on a bloody Friday night. It's time to stop working and drink ridiculously expensive alcohol with your room mate."
Said and done.
An hour later the stew was eaten and both Draco and Hermione were sitting on the sofa in their living room drinking a ridiculously expensive Pinot Noir.
They'd had been living together in the flat they shared in downtown London for little more than six months now. If you'd asked either one of them if they could ever see themselves living together (or even be friends for that matter) four years ago, right after the war ended, they'd laughed in your face and called you mental. But time has a funny thing of changing things, hasn't it?
First they'd spent their eight year at Hogwarts together. At the start of the term things had been a bit awkward as all who returned for the additional year shared a common room. But when you're living together, sweating over impossible exams and at the same time trying to sort out rather strong symptoms of PTSD together for a whole year you form a bond. No doubt.
After graduation they'd stayed friends, neither of them ready yet to give up the comfort they'd discovered in each other.
For Draco it was having someone who knew him, all of him, and still accepting him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why but Hermione had just forgiven him and decided to accept him as a friend, warts and all.
For Hermione it was having someone who made her better. Growing up Draco had had the same spurring effect on her but back then it had been toxic, a need to prove herself worthy. Now it was encouraging but not without him reminding her to live as well. He helped her sort out her priorities, reminding her she only worked to be able to live and not the other way around.
It was now three years after graduation and all their friends and family seemed to have accepted the oddity that was their friendship and no one even raised an eyebrow when seven months ago Hermione moved into Draco's flat when she and Ron broke up.
"Well, you can't see either one with out the other any way." their friends had all shrugged.
Oddly enough even Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy seemed to be accepting of their friendship and constantly had them over for dinner. Dinners that always included Lucius bringing out the finest bottle in the house. The tradition of This Friday's Fancy Flask had started as a joke on that two months earlier.
"Well, do I detect…" Draco said, in the most self-important manner he could - and no one did self-important better than Draco Malfoy-, as he stuck his nose all the way into the wine glass, "… a scent of bubotuber pus?"
Hermione chuckled.
"Hm, I was going to say I discern the unmistakable aroma of rotting owl carcass." She swirled the glass and took a sip. "Yeah, absolutely rotting owl carcass."
Draco laughed.
"Since when did you become such a connoisseur?"
"Since you dragged me along every time you went to went to see your parents. We can't even pop by for tea without Lucius having to bring out some posh flask." she said trailing her index finger along the rim of her glass.
"Are the Malfoys' spoiling you, darling?" he mocked.
Hermione slapped his shoulder before putting her glass down on the coffee table and lay down across the sofa, her knees bent up towards the ceiling.
"Yeah, my life is so hard." she sighed theatrically.
Draco gave her a small smirk and put her feet to rest in his lap:
"Speaking of which, mum invited us to dinner at the Manor next week."
Hermione rolled her eyes: "Why this time? Is she setting us up with someone or is she trying to set us up with each other?"
Even though Hermione and Draco called each other their best friend, lived together, and were more than comfortable with physical contact their relationship wasn't romantic. Nor had it ever been. They were well aware that their friends and family had a hard time believing they weren't having it off, but the truth was they weren't.
That would make thing complicated, now wouldn't it?
And they'd both agreed they didn't need complicated.
That's why they had the rule of a non-sexual and non-romantic relationship. Never had they shared a kiss, never had they slept together and never had they seen each other naked. Well, the last bit wasn't exactly true. On more than one occasion, sadly, had Hermione walked into the apartment only to find Draco butt naked in some strange position with one of his latest lovers. She understood sex was his way of coping with the stress of life. She just wished he didn't have to cope on their shared kitchen table.
"Don't know, guess we'll see come dinner." Draco shrugged and started massaging her feet.
"If your mother tries to set me up with Marcus Flint again I'm never seeing your parents again." Hermione muttered.
Draco let out a laugh.
"Why? You didn't like it the last time she tried to set you two up and he went on and on about the symptoms of dragon pox?" He squeezed her right foot just hard enough, which made Hermione gasp.
"Oh my God, that's brilliant!"
"I know, you could almost think I've got a magic touch." he smirked, working his way up her calf.
"Mmmmhm." She closed her eyes, let her head fall back to rest on the armrest and ran her fingers through her long, brown curls.
"Alright, don't enjoy yourself too much." he warned, only half serious of course.
He'd never admit it, not even to himself, but hearing her make the little content noises when he touched her moved something deep within him.
She popped herself up on her elbows, "Want to watch a film? I picked one up on my way home from work."
"Is it Batman?" he said a little too enthusiastically.
She shook her head and tsked:
"What's with this obsession over Batman?"
"Batman is my favourite movie of all times. I mean, a handsome millionaire heroically saving the day again and again while everyone else just stands around and watches. It's basically the story of my life." Draco gestured with his left hand to emphasise his obvious point.
Hermione answered by kicking him loosely on his arm.
"Prat."
"If it isn't Batman then what is it?" He tilted his head slightly meaning she'd better picked something Batman-worthy, at least.
"It's a new thriller that just came out on DVD. It's called The Ring." She reached for the DVD that lay underneath the coffee table and showed him the cover.
"Is it any good?" He arched an eyebrow examining the cover.
The concept of the telly and movies was introduced to him when Hermione moved in and ever since he'd been fascinated by it.
"I don't know, obviously I haven't watched it yet." she rolled her eyes and rose from the sofa. "You make the popcorn and I'll put the film on."
Horror movies and thrillers were their favourites. Although there were few they actually found scary since much seemed bleak compared to living a war. But perhaps it was something about the atmosphere a horror movie created which allowed Hermione to snuggle up to Draco's side and allowed him to wrap his arm around her shoulder that was alluring about the genre.
"Who the fuck comes up with this nonsense?" Draco snorted as the credits rolled.
"I know! A child trapped in a well? Oldest trick in the book." Hermione said and took a sip of wine.
"Do you think, since we've now also watched the tape, that the girl in the well will come for us?" Draco turned to face Hermione.
"No, I think the logics of the tape is that if you watch a recording of the original tape the girl won't haunt you." she put the glass down. "I mean, we didn't watch the actual tape, did we? We watched the tape being played on a telly on our telly."
"Guess we'll know for sure in… seven days." Draco spoke the last words in a croaking voice that did the voice from the film well justice.
"Well, your room is closest to the telly. So when the girl climbs out and starts tearing your eyes out I'll probably hear it and I'll have time to run away." she said and rose from the sofa.
"And just leave me to die?" he said and tossed a pillow at her. "You're the worst best friend I have."
"I'm the only best friend you have, love." she snickered and tossed it back at him. "Your turn to do the dishes."
With the dishes cleared Draco called out to the living room:
"Hey, Granger! Did you get the eerie call from the girl in the well yet?"
When he didn't receive an answer he walked back into the living room where the sight of Hermione lying on the sofa reading a book, her feet up on the backrest, met him. She seemed absorbed by the book and completely oblivious of his presence as he walked over and sat down next to her. Moments went by and he counted her turning pages four times before she looked up at him.
"Oh, you're back. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
Draco couldn't help but smile a little at the surprise in her voice.
She marked the page and put the book down on the floor.
"Yeah, and no phone call telling me I'm going to die in seven day. Thank you for asking." he smirked. "What are you reading?"
"A book." she answered.
"I know what a book looks like, Granger. What's it about?" he arched an eyebrow at her.
"Um, I'm not really sure. It's about a woman in 19th century Scotland." she answered vaguely as scanned the back of the book.
"You're at the end, aren't you? Yet you have still no idea what it's about?"
She sighed and swung one of her legs over his head and rested each of her legs on either of his shoulders. He watched patiently, knowing the sigh and the body movement was a sign that what she was about to tell him was something she'd rather not.
"Don't laugh, yeah?" she said.
"Promise." He held his hand across his heart.
"Well sometimes… well most times… alright always… I read the ending first." For some reason a faint blush tinted her cheeks and Draco strongly suspected that wasn't the reason she blushed.
"Yeah, why?" He asked giving her an intent look.
She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
"Stop looking at me like that, Malfoy!"
"Right, if you insist on being a stubborn moron. Fine." he said and turned 180 degrees and lay down between her legs, the back of his head resting on her stomach. "There, I'm not looking at you. Now tell me why you start at the end."
Another sigh escaped her.
"Fine. I do because I want to know how it ends."
"I'm not that thick. Why is that important? Doesn't that mean you won't be surprised when you read the rest?" he asked and absentmindedly ran his fingertips down her legs.
"No. I mean sure. But I don't like being surprised all that much. I like to know how things turn out in the end before I get too invested." She started playing with his hair.
"Is that because you're an insufferable control freak?" he asked, sincere.
"No, you tosser." she chuckled but then took on a more serious tone, "It's because things might not work out as I want. And I don't want to get disappointed."
Suddenly Draco got the feeling she wasn't just talking about books anymore. He shifted to lie on his stomach so that they were now face to face.
"Does that apply to books or life in general?" he asked.
"I'd have to say life in general. I hate not knowing if things will be alright." she said, her voice so soft he hadn't heard her unless he'd been less then 10 inches away.
"Do you feel that way about us as well? About me?" He regretted asking it as soon as the word left his mouth. Not because he didn't want to know, more that he was dreading the answer.
Hermione stroke some hair out of his eyes and gently brushed his cheek with her knuckles.
"Sometimes, yeah." she smiled a soft, sad smile.
"Granger, you're my best friend. And I'll be yours as long as you'll let me. Nothing's going to change that fact." Draco smiled, a smile that made Hermione involuntarily blush.
"But what will happen down the line, Malfoy? What happens when your mother successfully sets you up with the woman of your dreams? Do you think she'd accept walking into the room and finding us like this?" Hermione asked.
Not this bloody talk again. Draco thought, slightly annoyed.
They'd had this conversation before.
Many times before…
And for certain reasons…
They'd both dated others before and safe to say all of those relations had been, to put it mildly, bothered by Hermione and Draco's peculiar relationship. Since both Pansy and Ron had been around to see their relationship form they, Pansy and Ron, hadn't been bothered the same way, as they knew the history.
But the ones after that…
That had been a different matter. Like that one bloke, the Muggle barista, Hermione dated for three months who decided to break it off when Draco for the hundredth time barged into Hermione's room to borrow a toothbrush. Apparently the Muggle barista though 'Draco had no boundaries'.
Or that pretty little blond witch from France Draco had seen three months back who'd stormed out of the flat when she'd found Hermione's bra in Draco's bedroom. It didn't matter that Draco had explained the bra had ended up there when he'd used it as a slingshot to throw water balloons at Hermione. No, somehow that was even worse!
"Granger, we've had this conversation before. If a woman I'm supposed to live the rest with my life with can't accept my relationship with you it's a deal breaker. I've told you." Draco said and put his head to rest on her chest. "And besides, I don't think my mother could ever find me the woman of my dreams. No one could ever compare to you."
Just as he said it he realised how it sounded. And apparently so did Hermione because he felt how her breath hitched.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked in a voice more high pitched than normal.
"Yeah, I realise what that sounds like. But it's true, innit? You know I adore you, Granger. Being with you is easy. No relationship I've ever had has been this easy."
"But we have rules. We don't do romance or sex. Because it sure sounds like that's what you're implying we should do." She sat up forcing Draco to sit up as well.
"Come on, Granger. Have you honestly never thought about breaking those rules?"
"No, because both you and I agreed that romance or sex can't be done without things getting complicated and eventually it ruins everything. And as I remembered it this…" she pointed back and forth between them, "… happened in the first place because we were so sick and tired of complicated."
"Do you think I'm fit?" His question caught her of guard and she stared blankly at him.
"Um… I… Well… Fuck it. Yes." she stuttered and blushed again.
"And I already know you love me since I'm your best friend. So now the question is; are you sexually attracted to me?" he smirked.
"No." her answer came too quickly and his smirk grew wider.
"So you have though about breaking the rules."
"Malfoy I'm not having this discussion with you!" She rose from the sofa and started walking out of the living room.
"Oh, come on Granger! Just admit you do want to shag me!" he called after her.
"It's called living in denial, you moron!" she shouted slamming the door to her room.
She tossed herself on the bed mentally cursing that stupid, gorgeous, ferret-faced bastard.
Of course she was attracted to him, who wouldn't be? Did that mean she was in love with him? Of course not!
He was Draco sodding Malfoy, for Merlin's sake.
Was he her best friend? Yes, he was. And he had been for the last three years. It was only natural she cared for him. Hell. She'd even go as far as to say she loved him. Did that mean she had romantic feelings for him? Preposterous!
As she lie in her bed, just about to drift off to sleep, she heard a rasping sound outside her door, as if someone dragging their nails on the other side of it.
She sighed in annoyance.
"Knock it off, Malfoy. It isn't funny!"
The rasping stopped and Hermione turned in her bed, finding a more comfortable position.
A moment later her door opened soundlessly and a streak of light from the hallway outside shined in to her bedroom, but there was no one to be seen in the doorway.
"Malfoy, I swear to Merlin I'll hex your balls off if you try to scare me." she muttered and popped herself up on her elbows and turned on the lamp on her bedside table.
She watched and listened but still no sound and no one to be seen. Suddenly she felt a pair of hands grabbing her feet at the foot of the bed and against her will she let out a shrill shriek.
"Fucking hell! Fuck you, Malfoy!" she yelled and tossed one of her pillows at him as he stood up laughing.
"I'm sorry, Granger. I couldn't resist." he laughed as he caught the pillow. "Hey, did you get new sheets?"
"Don't change the subject. I'm mad at you!" she sneered.
"Oh, you did get new sheets. Satin, innit?" he crawled onto her bed and ran his hands over her freshly made sheets.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why are you this invested in my bed sheets?"
"Well, there might have been a small accident involving my own." he confessed still caressing her sheets.
"Did this accident involve popcorn, by any chance?" She arched an eyebrow at him.
"Maybe." he smiled a sort of apologetic smile. As close to apologetic Malfoy could manage, at least.
Hermione sighed but couldn't help but smile a bit; this wasn't the first time Malfoy had taken the leftover popcorns into bed with him and ended up spilling it all over his bed.
"Do you wish to sleep in here tonight?" she asked.
"Well, if you insist. I know how jumpy you get after we watch a horror movie." he said airily as he pulled off his shirt and crawled in under the blanket.
There was always a reason as to why they ended up sharing a bed. If it wasn't the spilled popcorn that made him come to her it was the thunder that made her come to him. If it wasn't that it was the nightmares that made them come to each other. If it wasn't that it was yet another reason. The point was it was always a reason; it was never because they simply wanted to.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him yet again but all the same she cuddled up next to him with her head in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arm around his waist. She took a deep breath inhaling his scent. His scent that always made her feel calm and safe. At home.
"Is there any chance I got to you by telling you the girl in the well would come for you first?" she smirked against his neck.
Draco put his arm around her and started gently running his fingers through her hair.
"Hush now, don't project your fears on me, love. I'll protect you from the little girl in the telly." He placed a gently kiss on the top of her head. "And besides, I know you're in love with me and you want me to spend the night in your bed."
"I'm not in love with you, Malfoy." she said calmly.
"I'm not in love with you either, Granger." he answered, equally calm.
It wasn't long after that they both drifted off to sleep, still in the tight embrace, just like they'd done so many nights before.
So, I'm well aware this trope has been done about a million times before, but I just love it and couldn't help myself!
Never the less, let me know your thoughts on it!
Cheers!