-1Of Thunderstorms and Chocolate Chips
Hermione knocked on the door softly, her movements full of hesitation. She waited a moment that felt like an eternity. Her heart was pounding and she was terrified at the thought of being found here, and just as terrified of entering his bedroom. He didn't answer her knock, so she turned the knob, cursing its squeak, and pushed the door open. There he lay, in the small bed in the small room with the sloped roof; his navy blue comforter covering the lower half of his body. The room was dark, but for the occasional flash of lightning, and all she could see were shadows.
"Malfoy," she called quietly. And a second time with more urgency in her voice, "Malfoy!"
A bolt of lightning lit up the room, and he was awake instantly, wand in hand, surveying the room for threat. All he saw was Hermione, in her white tank top and green pyjama pants, looking dishevelled and scared. He relaxed only slightly, lowering his wand a few inches as he asked, "What's wrong? Has something happened, are they all right?"
She looked at him blankly for a moment, fascinated by the way the lightning played on his blond hair, intrigued by the display of the scars on his body, only shadows and hollows in this light.
"Hermione," he said sharply. "What's happened?"
"N-nothing," she stuttered. She regained her composure and started again. "I mean, I don't know that nothing's happened, something might have happened to them, but we haven't heard yet. But if something did happen, would we even hear? Who would tell us?"
He looked at her with the imperious look that she hated so much, and she realized she was babbling. She looked at him for a long moment and took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging in defeat and shame.
"I was scared," she said quietly, unable to meet his eyes. "I was having awful nightmares about what might happen to Ron and Harry, and the storm woke me, and now I can't sleep"
He lay back down and silently lifted the edge of his comforter in invitation.
She hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself, of what she was looking for from him.
"Would you just get in here?" he asked. "There's a draft and I'm not going to wait here all night in the cold for you to make up your mind."
She nodded and slipped into the bed beside him, laying down with her back to him.
"Thank you."
He didn't say a word, merely slipped an arm around her waist and prepared to fall back asleep, but she was restless and he relatively quickly figured he would get no more sleep this night. Sighing, he lit the lantern on the table beside his bed and waited for her to speak.
"I just don't understand why we haven't heard from them yet," she said without preamble. "They've been gone over ten days, surely finding Bellatrix shouldn't take this long. What if something's happened? Oh," she said. frustrated, rolling onto her back suddenly. "I should be there with them."
"You know why you weren't allowed to go with them," he said patiently.
"I've healed just fine!" she retorted quickly.
"Then why do you still favour your right leg when you get tired?" he asked innocently. "And why do you still use your left hand so frequently when you are right-handed? You haven't healed. That was a nasty curse followed by a worse fall."
"I didn't think anyone noticed," she admitted softly.
"Most don't, and that's why I vetoed you going on this mission."
"You?" she asked indignantly, sitting up quickly and glaring down at him as the comforter slipped from her shoulders. "You vetoed me? How could you? I thought it was Harry or Ron, in some misguided attempt to protect me. Why, why would you do that?"
"You're not fit to be in a battle with some of the most experienced Death Eaters, and I didn't want you putting yourself or other members of the Order at risk," he explained rationally.
And the rational side of her saw that it made sense, but the emotional side, the part of her that wanted to be there when Harry finally avenged his Godfather's murder, continued to rage against logic. She closed her eyes, and sent up a quick prayer that whoever might be listening would protect Harry and Ron. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she thought, not for the first time, that a life that allowed an eighteen-year-old to spend his life barely escaping death and avenging his loved ones who weren't so lucky was terribly cruel and unfair. Malfoy saw the tear as it slid silently down her cheek, and was at a complete loss. He had seen her in many moods, had seen her face down fierce enemies and had seen her grieve for loved ones, but this tear he could not understand.
"I should be there," she said quietly, her voice thick with regret. "I should be there. I should be there with him when he faces her."
"Hermione, I'm sorry," he said, pulling her closer to him and laying his head on top of hers. "I'm sorry that I care more for your life than for where you feel your duty lies. Harry knows that you love him, that you would be there with him if you could. But he agreed with me, you should not be in a battle right now."
"I should be there," was all she said. "I should be there."
He pulled away from her, shook her slightly and forced her to look him in the eye.
"Why?" he asked roughly. "Why is that worth risking your life?"
"Because that's what I do. I'm not a warrior like Harry, or like you, I don't make any great contribution to the battles. But there is one thing I can do better than almost anyone; I comfort him when he needs me. That's what I'm good for."
"That is not all you are good for," he said firmly. "I don't know how many people have to call you one of the cleverest witches of our age before you will believe it, and I don't know how many battles you have to fight before you will accept that you are a warrior as fierce as anyone else out there. Your comfort and your compassion are a part of who you are, but they are not all that you are. Do you understand me?"
She closed her eyes in gratitude, smiled softly and nodded her head.
"Good," he said gently. "Because I'm getting tired, and if you wouldn't mind so much, I would like a little sleep tonight."
She smiled wryly and kissed him once on the cheek before shifting and lying down once more. He lay beside her, and they were quiet for a long while, neither asleep, neither fully awake.
Malfoy dozed for an indistinguishable amount of time, thinking, pondering, wondering about the young woman beside him. He thought for a moment about how they came to be here, and had to chuckle at it all. How could he have known that this is where his twisted path would lead him? Working for the Order of the Phoenix. Protector and friend of Hermione Granger, who had found herself a special place in a heart he didn't even know was capable of affection. He smiled ruefully and looked down at her; her face had relaxed and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He had no idea this was the best sleep she had managed to have in the ten days her best friends had been gone. Overwhelmed with a sudden surge of affection, he gently kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep himself. He missed her sleepy smile. She was not entirely gone to the world. She reached up a hand to brush the hair out of his eyes and watched his face twitch slightly at her contact. Her sigh prompted him to open his eyes and look at her.
"What?"
"You looked…innocent," she settled on after some thought. "You looked almost childlike for moment. But then I touched you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. You're too anxious, too worried, even when you sleep."
"And that's what's kept me alive so long," he reminded her gently. "You can't know what it's like to fear falling asleep in your own bedroom, where you should be safe. Here, we're so well-guarded, because we're afraid of outside forces. I had every reason to be terrified of people inside my own house. Even here, my first few weeks I had to sleep with wand in hand out of fear what some members of the Order would do to me."
She looked down because she knew he was right; she didn't know what it was like.
"Hey," he said softly, touching her cheek. "Hey. We don't need to talk about that tonight. It's done. I'm here, and safe now, whatever that word means anymore. Besides, tonight, I've got you to protect me, in case anything happens."
"I would," she said fiercely, looking up at him, determination in her eyes. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"I know," he said, chuckling. "I trust you. Only, what would you protect me with? You left your wand in your own room."
She looked to the bedside table and groaned when she saw only his wand there and realized he was right. How could she have been so foolish? So focussed on getting to him that she had forgotten to bring her wand with her.
"I, I don't know," she admitted quietly.
"Then it's a good thing we don't have to worry about anyone inside this house, isn't it?" he asked as he began to play with her hair absent-mindedly. He tugged gently and the elastic band that held her hair in a braid that trailed its way over her left shoulder came free. He began to unbraid her hair slowly, and her breath caught as she looked up at him. They looked at each other for a long moment, neither of them speaking, as he unwound her hair and fanned it out across her shoulders.
At last he spoke.
"I miss when you used to leave your hair down. It made you look softer."
"I haven't done that for years; not since Hogwarts, not since before-"
"Before the War, I know."
His hand was still resting on her neck, it's warmth and strength soothing her. Something in his voice, a near-wistfulness, caught her attention, and she waited for him to say more.
"In those days, I thought that your goodness, your innocence, was enough. I could do what I was being asked to do, I could be cruel and see all the evils this world has to offer, and that was okay, as long as I knew you were still out there somewhere; innocent, good, pure. Because then I could remember that there's more to this world than what I see, what I know. There's more to the world than senseless destruction and pain, but only because there are people out there who are apart from that. And when you started to wear your hair up all the time, out of the way, I knew you were doing it because you needed to be sure your hair wouldn't get in the way in case you found yourself in a battle. The fact that you had to bind your hair because it might cost your life if you left it down; that's when I realized there is nothing in the world apart from death and destruction. There is no one kept completely separate from that. In time, everyone comes to experience and be part of the only world I've ever known"
"So, what's the point, then?" she asked quietly.
"The point is that no one is immune to this, everyone has to deal with it. What makes the difference is how you react to it. I went along with it, I allowed the evil around me to infect me, corrupt me, drag me under. But then there was you. No longer innocent, no longer pure, but still good, and still fighting."
He swallowed and looked at her, his eyes for once unguarded. No teasing hiding the truth. Naked. He was waiting for her reaction, but she didn't know what he wanted of her. She nodded once and then tilted her head down to bring all her hair in front of her shoulders to create a curtain around her face. She looked up at him again, and he took her hair in his hands and twined his fingers in it. His eyes on hers, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her gently. She sighed and leaned against him.
They were both startled awake by a knock on his door.
"Malfoy?" called Ginny.
"Get behind me," he whispered to Hermione, and he propped himself up on his elbow so that Hermione would be shielded from view as she lay behind him, resting her forehead between his shoulders.
"Come in," he called to Ginny.
"Morning," said Ginny brightly. "It's Saturday, you know what that means. It's waffle day."
"Is everyone else up?" Malfoy asked her.
"Fred and George have been up for hours, Kingsley is on his second cup of coffee, mum and dad are awake, Tonks is seriously thinking about waking up, and Lupin looks like he never went to bed last night. McGonnagall and Snape should be here within the hour, and who knows, we might even see Dumbledore this morning. I'm just going to grab Hermione and we'll get started on breakfast," she said as she made to leave the room. Hermione moaned weakly and closed her eyes tightly, as if the act could help her out of this situation..
"Don't do that," Malfoy said quickly to Ginny.
"Why not?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because there was a storm last night, and she never sleeps well during a storm. Let her sleep in, I'll go and get her when breakfast is ready," he answered, smiling slightly as he felt Hermione nod approvingly against his back.
"Okay," said Ginny, still eyeing him with suspicion. "Well, I'll be downstairs, see you in a few minutes."
And she walked out and closed the door behind her. Both Hermione and Malfoy sagged with relief. He stood to get dressed, finding his boxer shorts tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed, and she watched him silently. When he finished dressing for the day, she made to stand and gather her own clothes, saying, "I should probably head back to my bedroom before anyone thinks to look for me."
"Don't you dare," he said, crossing back to her and kissing her gently. "No one will come for you before breakfast is ready or they will have me to answer to. You lie back down and try to sleep a little more."
"Why are you being so nice?"
"Well, it's not totally altruistic. It's a little selfish in that I want to come up here to find you naked, sleeping in my bed. It's an image I want to remember for the rest of my life."
"Memories of last night aren't enough?" she asked teasingly as she obeyed and lay back down, pulling the comforter over her.
"One can never have too many memories of a beautiful woman, naked in one's bed," he responded, bowing to her in mock humility, before turning to leave.
"Chocolate chips in my waffle, please," she said, he eyes already drifting shut.
"Yes, milady," he said softly as he closed the door behind him.