A/N :
Year: Year 2
House: Ravenclaw
Category: Themed
Prompt: [object] Baked Goods
Word count: 3105
Hermione was frustrated, anyone who saw her would be able to tell; her hair had curled into a frizzy bird's nest from continually running her fingers through it, her jaw was set and her knuckles were white from how tightly she balled them into fists.
She just didn't understand him.
Luckily, she was alone, hiding in one of the classrooms, after dark. Imagine it, Hermione Granger, a shining example of the perfect student, sneaking around after dark; what had gotten into her! In truth, she just needed somewhere to go; lying in bed staring up at the dark wooden roof of her four post bed just wasn't cutting it.
How could someone so cruel to everyone, especially Hermione up until a few months ago, change into someone completely different when he let his guard down. She supposed that was Draco Malfoy all over.
He confused her with his constant mood swings - from being gentle, back to his usual, mean demeanor. It seemed that, whenever they were alone together, Draco was almost unrecognisable. He smiled, chatted and joked with her, but around his friends things were different. She had learnt that the hard way.
It had all started about three months ago when Hermione had been trying to find professor Flitwick. She checked his classroom, but it was bare apart from a figure at the back of the room, hunched over a pile of blank parchment, blonde hair tousled messily
She turned to leave, wanting nothing to do with Draco Malfoy, but paused when she saw that he hadn't noticed her at all. Instead, he just sat there burning holes into the parchment with his glare, hands bunched into fists on the desk.
"Draco?" She tried to get his attention cautiously, curious. "Are you alright?"
His eyes snapped up to her. "What do you want, Granger?"
Hermione recoiled slightly at his aggressiveness before straightening back up determinedly.
"I was actually going to ask if you wanted any help with that," she said, gesturing to the pile of parchment and broken quills scattered around him.
He took a moment to consider what she said, evidently not expecting help from her of all people. Still suspicious, he scrutinised her further,
"And why, exactly, would you, want to help me? I'm sure if Potter saw you here, he'd have something to say about it."
She rolled her eyes. "Because, believe it or not, Malfoy, people don't always act out of self-interest. Some people actually want to help others. Look, I only wanted to help, but if you are that set on refusing it, I'll just go."
"Wait… No," Draco sighed before he leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
Did Draco Malfoy just apologise? Hermione thought.
Draco sighed before scooting over along the bench, indicating he would like to take her up on her offer. "I'm just trying to write this essay on vanishing charms and it's just not happening."
Hermione, walked over to the desk, and looked at the essay title, she then spent the next hour or so, formulating an essay plan with Draco, some parts and points she wrote down were, admittedly, loosely based on her own essay. But it was highly unlikely that Professor Flitwick would suspect a thing - as far as he knew, she and Draco were enemies. The likelihood of her letting him copy her essay was about as high as Hagrid being able to perform the Tango.
But over the hour, she actually started to almost like the boy. He started out blunt at first. Monosyllabic replies of 'yeah' or 'thanks,'but after about twenty minutes of giving her the cold shoulder, he relaxed a bit. towards the end she actually thought she heard him laugh at something she said. It wasn't his usual, malicious, cruel kind of laugh either, but rather a lighter one. It was almost a chuckle that she could see on his face more than hear with his voice.
Hermione checked the wall clock and yawned as she realised that they had been working on the essay for hours. Draco sighed again, though this time in satisfaction that his essay was finally starting to take shape. He paused in thought and then looked at her, before averting his gaze and mumbling quickly
"Do you think this could be a regular thing? Father says I have to get my grades up and-" She suspected that his father may have told him to get better marks than her. A defensive part of her wanted to poke fun at him for the possibility but she'd actually enjoyed her time with Draco working on his essay. He wasn't as terrible as she may have thought without this unexpected opportunity.
"Be careful what you ask for, Draco," Hermione opted to say his first name as a sign of comfort, some level of trust existing between them. She smiled genuinely. "If you start asking me for favors people might not believe that you really hate me."
"Well, that's probably because I don't hate you Hermione, I don't even hate Potter. I just have a family reputation I have to keep up." He stiffened at the last bit of his sentence. His aura seemed to shift as he remembered his family and quickly collected up his notes, rushing back out of the room. He muttered another quick thanks before disappearing, leaving Hermione more confused at the boy than she had ever been before.
Hermione had thought that the alliance that had been founded between them would end just as quickly as it had started. However, she was sorely mistaken, as she found out two weeks after they had made the meet up a regular thing. To be honest she couldn't believe they had made it that long without some sort of conflict starting between him and his friends and hers. She should have known it wouldn't last.
The conflict broke out between Ron and Draco while waiting for Divination. Hermione couldn't even remember what it was about. It was over something so petty, yet when she had tried to break them up, appealing to both of their rationales, Draco had turned to her and spat,
"Stop talking to me as if were friends, Mudblood." She looked at him, aghast - not by the insult, but more so in the shock of the change in demeanor from the boy she had helped for the last two weeks.
Gone was the articulate, friendly, almost soft Draco she had grown fond of; that Draco was replaced with the cruel imposter she knew before. Someone whose grey eyes held both the hurt that she felt but also a cold steel glare.
This had all happened the day before their next meeting, of course. Hermione was determined not to go to Flitwick's classroom at seven o'clock, which was when they normally met.
How dare he talk to her like that! All she had been doing for the last few weeks was help him and this was how he repaid her? Ron and Harry weren't all that helpful about it when she had confessed she had been helping him. "He's Draco Malfoy, Hermione, what did you expect?", argued Ron.
Hermione sucked a deep breath through her nose and placed her hands on her hips.
"A Slytherin through and through, only doing anything out of selfish intent. You can't make a person change just because you're nice to them." Hermione just roller her eyes at Ron's comments not in the mood for his I-told-you so tone and expression.
It was at breakfast the next morning when a great Eagle owl, carrying what appeared to be a white shoebox flew into the Great Hall, heading straight for her. It deposited the box in front of her before pinching some bacon off her plate and flying off.
She looked towards her friends who looked back with curious expressions on their faces.
"What is it?" Seamus asked.
"Who's it from, got an admirer Hermione?" Lavender Brown nudged her.
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't know who it's from."
"Well open it then!"
As she did, the smell of a bakery hit her, and in front of her lay an assortment of perfectly neat and beautifully crafted pastries. No note as to who had sent them and why, perhaps it was from her her parents?
"Oi, Hermione! You better be sharing some of that" Dean yelled from a couple of places down the table.
"You've already got a pile of food in front of you, eat that up and we'll see about you having one later." She smiled at her friend before putting the lid back on the box and returning to her own breakfast.
Later that day, Hermione found herself alone in the dorm after finishing an exam early.
She rubbed her face tiredly as she thought back to the answers she put. Whilst she was almost certain the majority was right, on a couple she had to make an educated guess. Her stomach complained, she had skipped lunch as she was to nervous about the exam to eat anything but now she regretted it. That was until she remembered her mystery parcel from that morning.
She pulled the box from under her bed, mouth watering at the prospect of a chocolate eclair held within. She opened the lid and again she smell of fresh pastries washed over her, taking her back to countless memories of a French bakery her parents took her to in france whilst on holiday. The cakes and pastries themselves were baked to perfection, any decoration, though minimalistic, were well-presented and immaculate.
Hermione couldn't just look at them any longer and reached for the chocolate eclair that had been practically calling to her since breakfast that morning.
She took a bite and was pretty sure she died and went to heaven. The ratio of pastry to cream was heavenly and it was just what she needed to calm her nerves post exam, not to mention sedate her stomach, which grumbled unhappily.
It was then that she noticed a note in the box...
I'm sorry Hermione, take this as a peace offering.
I had to say the things I said to keep up appearances. I didn't want to and I didn't want to drag you into my personal life but it will be the only way to explain my behaviour.
My parents and I, despite what people think, don't share the same views on controversial matters such as Muggle parentage. For this reason, my home life isn't necessarily what you'd call 'easy' and I am aware the ones I call friends are also intimidated by my father. They are paid off to report information about me and my studies to him. Therefore, the comments I made the other day were wrong and I'm sorry, truly but I had to save face in the eyes of my father and if he knew I had a friend like you then...I don't know what would happen but I doubt anything good.
Anyway, I would still like to meet up with you and I hope my behaviour hasn't ruined that. I'll be waiting next week in the usual spot. If you don't want to come… then I understand.
-D
Hermione didn't know what to even think. Thoughts swirled around her head. Were she and Draco still friends? Part of her felt sorry for him, and understood why he had done it, but another part was still angry at him. She would be lying if she said she knew which side outweighed the other at that moment.
It was then that the door to her room burst open and Parvati walked in, interrupting her thoughts.
"Oh, Hermione, how'd you find the test? I literally didn't understand question six at all." Parvati paused, eyes drifting to the box next to Hermione.
"Help yourself," Hermione murmured, tucking the note from Draco into her pocket.
Draco's eyes widened in surprise as Hermione walked through the door of Flitwick's classroom.
"I must admit, I didn't think you would come," Draco said, an unspoken apology evident in his cautious tone of voice.
"I'm surprised myself, really, but I think you know the feeling." She paused, "Those pastries were delicious, where did you get them?"
"Well…" he trailed off awkwardly. "I made them."
"Merlin's beard, Draco, I didn't know you could bake!" She started laughing at the strangeness of it all.
"And now you see why I didn't tell anyone," he cried, his usual pale cheeks now flushed pink with embarrassment, though there was an amused smirk on his face.
"Don't think that I've forgiven you completely, though," Hermione said seriously after regaining her composure. "What you said hurt, quite a lot and if you ever say it again, these meetings stop. And, as it stands, you're going to need more than baked goods to redeem yourself."
"So these can continue?" Draco asked gently, with a look to say he was treading carefully.
"Only on my conditions. First, you mind your language; and second - you have teach me how to bake like that," Hermione replied, only half joking - at least, about the second condition.
"Done and done, I'll teach you how to bake. Though, for appearances," he paused, "you know, for my dad and everything. These meetings can just be between us."
"Okay," Hermione agreed. She had told Harry and Ron about the meetings before the fight but she suppose they didn't have to know about it continuing, as it would only cause an argument anyhow. Though, she couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment at the thought of keeping whatever it was between them a secret.
Hermione was getting ahead of herself - there was nothing going on between them, was there?
After weeks of constant postposting and rearranging Draco's pastry lesson had finally arrived. It had seemed that, every week, in their little homework club, something would always come up. They'd had to reschedule and cancel until the next available time they could meet up. Hermione would be lying if she said her temper wasn't fraying a little, not at the constant rearranging but the awkwardness between their meetings where they would pretend to not mean even anything to each other.
Although Draco had stopped referring to her as "mudblood" - something she was very grateful for - he still got into disagreements with her friends, who would slate him off to her most nights and just plain ignore her, as if she didn't exist. The few times they did make eye contact, though he broke it quickly, she could see he wanted to say something more to her. But it wasn't enough was it; just a passing wish for something more amongst a torrent of other thoughts. It had led to their homework meetings having extended periods of awkward silence and sometimes even arguments to break out between the two.
But other times her Draco came back, the one that was softer, laughed in amusement as Hermione recounted stories of what had happened to her that week or voiced his support for her privately concerning her debate she had had with Snape one lesson. Still, she wasn't sure it was enough and, as a result, Hermione had doubts that this friendship could even last.
But that was all forgotten, for the time being. That night, she and Draco were meeting at nine, in the kitchens. He had somehow managed to do a deal with the house elves there and even had permission from McGonagall to use the kitchen as freely as he wished. She was apparently a fan of his cinnamon rolls and the only other soul in Hogwarts to know of his hobby.
She watched him, as he explained each step in the process of "apology eclair" making. Hermione had to admit she wasn't the best baker in the world, and there was a lot more messing about than she intended, including several flour fights.
Still, Draco meticulously weighed each ingredient and prepared the pastry by hand. She thought of offering help a few times, after all she was supposed to be the student here, but at the same time didn't want to ruin the eclairs by 'helping' him. She could see why baking brought him enjoyment, it was almost calming and therapeutic in a way, especially when it came to decorating. Piping them with dark chocolate before creating a marbling effect with white chocolate.
The entire process of baking and decorating the eclairs took around two hours in the end, with all the messing around that had occurred and the cleaning up. Hermione realised they would have to sneak back to the dorms and hoped that her absence went unnoticed. It was close to exams so hopefully her friends would just assume she was working late in the library again. Strangely, she didn't find herself minding for once that she was breaking the rules. She had enjoyed her time with Draco that was, a ludicrous thought popped into her head. Was she attracted to Draco Malfoy?
She realised she was staring at his back in probably a creepy way as he finished washing up. She bit into a finished eclair to distract her from her thoughts then moaned in delight.
"These are good," she said, a mouthful of eclair muffling her voice. "But I still don't think they can fully redeem you for the weeks of ignoring my existence."
Draco turned and looked at her for a moment, his grey eyes meeting her brown ones as if he were trying to figure her out.
"You're right and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have to hide, and tonight has made me realise, I don't want to hide any longer so I can't reverse what I've done in the past and I know I can't disappoint my parents but I do want to try to make whatever there is between us work..." Draco walked up to her until there was barely any space between them. "I know a chocolate eclair can't compensate for everything I've done to you, but I want to be better. For me and for you."
Hermione didn't know what to say or how to react. Should she make a joke to break the seriousness? Should she try and talk to him about his parents? Instead of saying anything she let the silence seal a unspoken promise between them. A promise of continued friendship at the very least.
Eventually, she broke the silence that had fallen between the two.
"I suppose this friendship could last," she grinned, "Though you have to teach me how to make those croissants next time"