L.
This is for Beautifulinsanelove who won a small contest of mine and requested this. Lucky for me, they basically gave me free run with how I want this story to go. Enjoy and please leave a review with your thoughts.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Chapter 1
"Shite! He got away!" A man's voice drifted around the corner of a dark alleyway.
"You sure? Where the hell can he go? He can't use his fucking wand." Another man muttered and pulled the hood of his jacket farther over his head to obscure his face. "Doesn't matter, we've got others to catch. Come on!" And with that said, they disapperated.
After a few silent moments a young man with white blonde hair crawled out of a dumpster, a sour look on his pale face. "Blasted Auras…what the hell have I done? Nothing! Forcing me out of my bloody mansion, and into a fucking dumpster! Wait till I-"Further down the alleyway, someone apperated with flourish, forcing the young man to crouch down beside the trash bin near the dumpster. Quietly, with his heart pounding in his chest he watched as the young woman fixed her long trench coat and fluffed up her perfect curls and combed her fingers through her long fringes. Curiously, his brain recognized her but he couldn't remember from where. She was of average height with a slim build and long, naturally curly dark hair with long fringes framing her heart-shaped face. Her long cream trench coat was tailor made but her boots were anything but fashionable; they were made for walking and keeping the wearer's feet warm.
After several minutes of hair fixing and coat shuffling the woman sighed and pulled out a cellular phone to check the time. She groaned, looked around at the alley she was in and sighed again. "I'm not in the wrong place…am I?" She muttered and stared down at her phone again while beginning to walk.
The woman trudged a few steps before stopping again, this time near the trash bin. "They said London. I'm in London." She scowled and looked up at the dreary, overcast sky. "But they didn't say where in London…" Suddenly, her eyes landed on the trash bin and she slowly walked over to it. "Hello? Harry? Ron?"
The young man quivered in his spot but dared not to move and inch.
"Look boys, we have no-Draco?!" The woman gasped and stared down at him, her face white with shock. "W-sorry…I thought you…I mean they…were hiding...sorry…" She took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds before speaking. "Why are you hiding behind there?"
Draco scowled and slowly stood up; revealing his ratty cloak and dirty trousers as he slowly and carefully stepped out from his hiding place. "Who are you? You're not going to report me. Are you?" He snapped, his voice low, dark and threatening.
"Draco it's me, Hermione."
Draco looked the woman over, realization dawning at the familiarity. Hermione her indeed grown up since he last saw her; she wasn't taller, but had defiantly filled out. Her face had lost its baby fat, and her chest had grown considerably. Her hair was longer and instead of wild curls she had somehow managed to tame her locks into a sexy set; but her eyes remained the same. Dark, intense, calculating yet kind orbs that somehow had a wise, knowing look.
"Granger?" He finally spoke, his voice filled with mild wonder but still hostel. "Looks like the years have been kind to you." He sneered, shoved his hands into his pockets and moved to walk past her.
Hermione scowled and stepped in his way. "And looks like the years have done a number on you Draco." She noted his sickly pallor, the dirt stained into the collar of his shirt and the edge of his trousers, and his stench; most likely from days of not showering and hiding in garbage bins.
"Don't call me Draco, Granger. We're not friends." He sneered and glared at her. "Move. Before I make you."
"Duly noted Malfoy." Hermione nodded but didn't move as her eyes continued to roam over him, her eyes widening minutely at how different he looked and acted. "Word around the office is that you're in a spot of trouble." She raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with him.
"Oh? Into gossip now are you?"
"No. But your name's been sort of hard to avoid these days."
"Of course. Bet now you're going to run back to the Ministry and tell them you've spotted me have you?" He moved to stand in her face, goading her. "Or perhaps you're going to bring me in yourself."
Hermione stared into his eyes, seeing the pain, fear, anger but most of all resentment. After a second, she shook her head. "No. I'm not going to turn you in." She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone might have snuck up while she wasn't looking. "In fact, I'd like to have a chat with you Malfoy."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. "Right. A chat. Excuse me Granger, but I'm not that thick."
She chuckled and shrugged. "You're right, you aren't. But I am, however, serious about us sitting down and chatting."
"Alright, whatever you're on Granger just shut up and let me be on my way will you?" He moved to side step her only to stop when she moved back into his way once again. "Granger! Enough of this! I will forcefully move you out of my way!"
"Lunch. At my place. Now?" Hermione offered him a small smile. "Malfoy, I'm not as evil as you think. I swear, I won't turn you in or poison you. I just want to talk."
He stared at her as though she'd literally just gone mad right before his very eyes. "Feeling alright there Granger? Weasley slip you something funny?" He leaned down slightly to peer into her eyes, expecting them to be diluted.
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "Does the promise of hot food a shower not interest you Malfoy?"
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Apparently the lure of peace and quiet with a hot meal and shower was great enough to overpower Draco for he soon found himself in Hermione's house. It was a detached house in the city of Bath complete with a small patio and back yard, not something he would expect from one of the Golden Trio. It was actually on the modest side and not at all full of lavish grandeur as he thought. Hermione had left him to a hot shower while she cooked up lunch; he was currently finishing up his lengthy shower while staring in mild bafflement at her taste in conditioners. It was a mild scent that reminded him faintly of coconuts. Slowly, the aroma of cooking vegetables wafted under the locked bathroom door, into the showers stall and up his nose, teasing his stomach. Reluctantly, he quickly finished up and stepped out of the shower with a white towel tied around his waist. His hard, defensive grey eyes scanned the bathroom for his clothing but found nothing, not even his boxers. All that was left on the counter was his wand which had been wiped clean of the grime that had over time caked onto it.
"Granger you filthy mudblood." He muttered under his breath and threw open the bathroom door, wand in hand ready to tear her head off. "Granger!"
"Down the hallway." She answered back.
Annoyed, he stalked down the hall, one hand on the knot he tied the towel in to ensure it won't slip down his waist. As soon as he entered the kitchen, his mouth began watering. There on the counter sat a giant bowl filled with vegetables, still steaming. Beside the bowl sat a small dish with slices of chicken and a dipping sauce, beside that was a platter layered with hot noodles.
"I had to wash all of your clothing, but don't worry I've laid out something for you to wear in the guest bedroom. I'm almost positive it won't be to your liking but honestly, you really couldn't put back on your clothes Malfoy. They were disgusting." Hermione spoke to him as she expertly sprinkled some sort of seasoning over fried rice. "Hurry up. I'm almost done." She didn't even glance his way, just shooed him out with a flick of her wrist.
At that Draco sneered and stalked back down the hallway towards the bedrooms, silently praying whatever she had laid out it wasn't from Weasley. Or Potter. The first door he tried, which was opposite the bathroom, was the guest bedroom. There he found a new pair of blue boxers, pajama pants and a simple white v-neck men's shirt. Genuinely confused but rather hunger, he quickly toweled himself off and threw on the clothing.
"Granger. Why do you have men's wear at your disposal? This isn't Weasley's is it?" Draco asked as he strode back into the kitchen just in time to see her place the last of the dishes on the kitchen table. "Or Potter's?"
Hermione offered him an amused smile and pulled out a chair then sat down. "Sit down and eat Malfoy. I know you're hungry. And no, it's not Ron's or Harry's. I just keep extra new clothing around in case one of them stumbles in here looking like crap." She shrugged and fixed the pony tail she had pulled her hair into. "So are you going to eat? Or just stand there gawking?"
Weary of her motives, Draco slid into the seat opposite her and accepted the glass full of orange juice she handed him. Slowly, he began to fill his plate, his eyes flicking up to Hermione every few seconds to make sure she wasn't trying anything suspicious. Eventually he relented to the fact that she wasn't going to poison him since she immediately dug into the food the second her plate was full.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each eating but quietly shooting the other suspicious, confused or mildly interested glances from time to time.
"Granger." Draco began, the tension finally becoming too much for him to bear. "What the bloody hell is going on?"
"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow at him and popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.
"Why are you being…nice?"
"I've always been nice Malfoy." She answered smartly with a slight smile playing on her lips at his obvious discomfort.
Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but sipped his juice before continuing on. "I mean this," He nodded at the food. "And this," He gestured to the clothing.
Hermione sighed and took a sip in her juice. "Well why don't we start with why you accepted my offer of food and a hot shower first?"
His eyes narrowed.
"I don't know your side of the story Malfoy; I only know what people say. And we both know people say a lot of things." She shrugged casually and leaned back in the chair with all the attitude of a royal addressing her subjects. "I can assure you that I'm not going to go running off anywhere announcing anything you have to say."
That set off a light bulb in Draco's head. "Weren't you looking for Potter and Weasley? Aren't they going to come looking for their brain?" He raised an eyebrow at her, unsure of her plans.
Hermione smiled a small smile at his choice of words before sipping at her juice. "I've sent word to them saying something more important came up."
He didn't say anything but continued to eat; best to run off on a full stomach than an empty one he reasoned.
"Are you going to dodge every question I ask?" She finally broke the silence that settled over them.
"Give me one good reason why I should tell you my problems Granger. As far as I know you're just looking for more gossip to add to the mill." He sneered, trying to ignore the urge to give her a backhanded comment on the food since it really was quite good. He had actually emptied his plate and had to resist the urge to take seconds.
"How about the fact that I have yet to call the Ministry? Or I fed you? And clothed you? And am about to offer you some whiskey or coffee depending on how this conversation is going to go?" She raised a challenging eyebrow at him and placed her chin on her neatly laced hands.
Draco scowled and pushed his plate away before standing up. She had a point, as much as he wanted to ignore it she was being awfully nice to him and there wasn't any signs that she was going to alert the Ministry any time soon. Plus, what can it hurt? Telling her what happened might do some good. After all she did have that annoying impulse to help those in need; maybe she just might be able to help him. After all, things couldn't get much worse. "Whiskey."
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
They had settled in the small but quant sitting room near the front of the house; Hermione had drawn the curtains and turned on the lamps while Draco helped himself to a drink of whiskey. He took the one chair in the room, it was stiff backed and slightly uncomfortable but gave him a good view of both the windows and doors leaving Hermione to sit on the settee opposite him. "Well?" She urged as soon as she curled up on the couch with her feet tucked under her and a pillow resting in her lap giving her the illusion of a small child waiting patiently for a good story.
"You could wait a few minutes for me to collect my thoughts Granger." Draco muttered, grabbing the other glass and making her a weak drink of whiskey and water since she neglected to bring any ice. "And you forgot ice." He held out the glass for her to take.
Pleasantly surprised, she took the glace and dipped her finger in to stir it. "Thanks. And sorry, I don't make it a habit to drink. If you want you can get it."
"No its fine." He poured himself a half glass without and water then sat back, releasing a heavy sigh. "Both Death Eaters and the Auror's are after me." He began then paused and sipped at his drink, trying to choose his words carefully. "The Death Eaters think I betrayed them because I didn't run away with my parents and are after my arse while the Auror's think I violated a regulation and are not only after my head to put on trial but whatever money I have left."
Hermione nodded and took a sip of her drink before frowning. "Your parents aren't in England?"
Draco scowled and avoided her probing eyes. "No…they've run off to Ireland…or France."
"You don't know?"
"For all I know they could be in America by now."
"Oh. And the Death Eaters are after you because you didn't go with them?"
He nodded stiffly and steadying took a gulp of his whiskey. "Yes, there was a…decision made among the…higher ups-those that survived, they were going to leave England. Everyone was going to leave."
"And why didn't you?"
"I know nothing else aside from here." He mumbled, staring at the painting handing over her head. It was an original painting of a little girl playing in an English garden while her mother gazed on from under the tree. "I don't speak French or Italian and America? I…I knew that if I ran away without facing trial it would only get worse."
"Yes about the trials; what happened? I thought all of the Malfoy's went through the procedures and were free? Well more or less so."
Draco nodded and slumped down in his chair, his eye still glued to the painting. "We did. Mother, Father and I went to court and were cleared thanks to Potter…well Mother and I was. Father faced some…charges. Anyway they found it in their better interest to run off somewhere that was not England."
"If you were cleared, why are they after you?"
"Apparently one of the stipulations was that we aren't allowed to leave the country for some time…a few years or something. And well…"
"They left and now you are facing the Ministry on your own on a whole new set of charges in addition to the old ones that they no doubt pulled up." Hermione finished for him.
Draco nodded and took another gulp of his whiskey, nearly draining the glass. They sat in cordial silence for awhile with Hermione running over what he said in her head and Draco replying the months of horror he had to live in since his parents left.
"But surely your parents were well aware of the stipulations? And they still left?"
"You forget who we are Granger. Malfoy's, conformed Death Eaters, supporters of The Dark Lord, rich. We're the epitome of what everyone hates. As much as I loathe admitting it the only reason we weren't killed off or sent away to Azkaban was because of Potter. The Ministry still-well before they took off-regarded us as enemies…they didn't exactly give us the tiny little lettering when they let us go."
Hermione nodded and sipped at her whiskey, very well aware of how the Ministry viewed ex-Death Eaters; no matter what their file stated, they were always going to be dangerous enemies worth setting traps for. And unfortunately, the Malfoy's tripped right into one. Another silence fell over them, this time Hermione's mind was reeling over the information she just gathered. Near everything Draco said was opposite of the gossip floating around the office; he was suppose to be plotting against the Ministry, sneaking about trying to infiltrate the security, he was supposedly living it up under a false identity impersonating some rich muggle as he did recon and reported back to an underground ring of Death Eaters who were in addition to trying to overthrow the Ministry, were also simultaneously trying to poison the Muggle water system. But according to Draco, he was just another victim of misinformation, abandonment, false accusations and death threats. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't bathed in days, and looked to be well on his way to starving.
So the question was now, was he telling the truth.
"Are we quite done now Granger?" Draco asked, his voice ridged and laced with suspicion.
"What was that?"
"Have you satisfied your curiosity?"
"Malfoy, what do you mean?"
"Can I leave now?" He asked, his voice full of loathing.
"I'm not keeping you prisoner. But I would think you'd at least like to wait till you're clothing is clean and dry."
At that, he glanced down at is body and scowled, temporally forgetting what he was wearing.
Hermione then regarded Draco, taking in his stringy white blonde hair, pale hollow cheeks, the permanent scowl on his face along with the new stress lines around his mouth and eyebrows. His fingers twitched once in awhile, his eyes were constantly darting around like a trapped animal and his shoulders were slumped over. He was no longer the proud, egotistical boy she knew back in school; before her sat a wounded, prematurely aged man with truly distrustful disposition. She tilted her head as the wheels began turning, maybe if she could somehow get a hold of the Malfoy release papers and the court recording she can prove that the Malfoy's were not aware of the stipulations. But that left the fact of all of the rumors flying around, it was unlikely that even with those two in her corner the Ministry would overlook all that has transpired since; the evasion of arrest, destruction of private and public property, and who knows what else he's done. Her only option would be to convince Harry to stand up for Draco. Again. But that would be more than a little difficult since he was constantly busy between the Ministry, work, social engagements and building a relationship with Ginny.
"Stop staring Granger, its rude." Draco finally snapped at her then tossed the remainder of his drink back.
"Sorry." She apologized and took a bracing gulp of the watered down whiskey, cringing as the weak alcohol lightly tingled down her throat. "Malfoy…what would you say if I told you I was willing to help?"
Draco eyed the woman sitting opposite him carefully, weary of where she was coming from. "I'd say, help with what exactly Granger?"
"Help with your legal situation."
"Meaning?"
"Getting the Auror's off your tail."
"That's a tall order."
"Yes well…" She ran her forefinger over the rim of the glass. "It's…seemingly do-able."
Draco snorted and reached down onto the coffee table dividing them to pour himself another drink. "Granger, I'm not dim no matter what you may think." He filled the glass to the halfway mark again then sat back, crossing one leg over the other. "Why the bloody hell would you even think of helping me?"
Hermione frowned at him and swirled her drink. "Because it's the right thing to do."
"Don't give me that rubbish." His grey eyes hardened almost instantly. "The right thing to do? How thick do you think I am? There must be something you want if you think you can help me."
At that, Hermione sunk further down into the cushions and sighed. Of course he would see it that way; why else would anyone in their right mind think to offer him any help? He was practically The United Kingdom's Most Wanted Wizard, not even the kindest soul in all of Great Britain would be willing to toss him a few pence let alone lend a helping hand in legal matters.
But she wasn't the kindest soul in Britain. She was the smartest.
"Malfoy," She sighed and slowly stood up. "I've got a lot to think about and you need a proper bed to sleep in." She placed her near empty glass on the coffee table and looked him in the eye. "Stay here tonight wont you? I honestly don't feel like going and seeing about your clothing right now and you look positively knackered. Take the guest room. I promise no one's going to come barging in here looking for you." She stated in all seriousness.
Draco's scowl deepened and she moved away from the seating area to double check the front doors. "I've locked all the doors and windows, there are wards up-as you probably already figured out-and there are several…things in place to alert me if anyone steps onto my property." She walked back into the room and looked down at him. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight Malfoy." With that said, she turned on her heel and left him sitting all alone.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
As much as Draco's body called out for the warm, soft, comfortable beckoning bed; he refused to go and lay down his head until he checked the locks for himself as well as the wards and most importantly, figured out Hermione's motive. No one did anything without due reason, it was just common sense. Sure there's such a thing as just doing the right thing, but that was hard to come by nowadays. Especially after the war. So what was her plan? Why was she helping him? What did she stand to gain by helping a Malfoy? As far as he can tell, nothing. There was nothing in it for her.
The more he thought about it the more his head hurt, and that combined with one and a half glasses of whiskey was beginning to make him feel a bit ill. Reluctantly, after about an hour he begrudgingly stumbled into the guest room and crawled into the queen sized bed. Much to his amazement, the bed wasn't cursed or spelled in any way to trap him or force him into a horrible nights rest. It was clean and smelled faintly of lavender and the pillows felt to be fairly new.
After fighting sleep for about ten minutes, Draco finally drifted off to a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in months.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Hermione didn't sleep immediately; she stayed awake until she heard the click of the guest bedroom door then changed into her night ware before climbing into bed, her mind still reeling from the information. Why exactly did she offer to help him? He was nothing to her; in fact he's probably a threat to her well being. So what inside her told her to try and help him? Even as her eyes drooped and sleep started ebbing at her consciousness, only one valid reason sprang to mind. She was guilty, deep down she felt guilty that he fell from graces so high; gone was the strong, determined, positively rude young man and because of what? He was indeed a victim, from the beginning he was just another pawn in war, just like her but why did he fall to the bottom of society and she climbed so high? It wasn't fair. Sure he was basically the direct representation of evil they fought against but that was over, he more than paid his dues and realized he was on the wrong side but society and government still wanted more from him. Knowing that she couldn't just sit by and not do something. With a heavy sigh, she turned over and tried to relax and think of all the ways to convince him to let her help him.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Morning came much too early for Hermione's taste but regardless, she swung her achy body out of bed and trudged into the on-suite bathroom. Still sleepy eyed, she flung on the lights, turned on the knobs and splashed her face with water. Mechanically, she brushed her teeth and glared at her reflection; her brain already replying yesterday's events. Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, wanted by the Ministry, wanted by the Death Eaters, and all around tosser was most likely still asleep in her guest bedroom. By all logic she should call the Aura's, or at least Harry to alert someone that he was here. But even as that thought skated through her mind, her gut told her not to.
Mildly annoyed with herself, she shut the door and stepped into the shower to prepare for the no doubt, tough day she was going to have.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Hermione stealthily leaned her ear against the door and strained to hear movements, but heard nothing except light snoring. Smiling to herself, she quietly backed away and continued down the hallway to the kitchen. Apparently she was right about Draco needing a good night's rest, he was most likely exhausted and wouldn't wake till maybe around lunch time. Content in the knowledge that she's most likely to be alone for the next couple of hours, she set about making a large pot of coffee and collected the mornings papers before settling at the kitchen table to skim the front page.
Nothing interesting was printed except for a small excerpt regarding the Aura's capture of one low level Death Eater. Quietly, she set about making herself a mug of coffee and made some toast then spread some marmalade on them before settling back down at the table.
Draco had some serious problems, a lot of which were indeed rumors but just the fact that he was a Malfoy made him more liable than a hardened criminal. A small sigh escaped her pursed lips before she bit into the toast and her eyes drifted over to the back door. Usually she'd be out there out on the patio enjoying her morning cup but today she wouldn't dare it. What if Draco woke up? What if Harry or Ron popped in even though she told them not to? After all they weren't ones for following the rules so why would they start now?
"Blast his robes still need to be washed again and then dried." She muttered under her breath and stood up, taking her mug with her she strode down the hallway, around a corner and then opened one of the doors that led to the laundry room.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
Soon enough his robes were dry and folded into neat piles; having nothing better to do Hermione scooped them up into her arms and walked up to the guest room door and strained to listen for any movements inside. Having heard none, she quietly cast the unlocking charm on the door and gingerly opened the door; inside was dark and dreary. He had shut the shades and drawn the blinds, all of the lights were off in the room including the timed lamp on the bedside table; it gave the room a gloomy, dark feeling as though it were just attached on to the rest of the house in the middle of the night. Slowly, she crept into the room and set his pile of now clean robes on a chair in the corner then peered over at him. He was still in a deep sleep, completely dead to the world around him. Curious of what a sleeping Draco looked like she took a step closer to the bed, careful not to make any noise and stared down at him. He looked much younger in his sleep, his face wasn't guarded and his eyebrows weren't creased, the lines around his mouth and nose all but disappeared; it was as though all the stress of the world just disappeared.
But that was just an illusion; suddenly, his body grew ridged and he let out a grunt and flipped over as though punching someone before settling back down into the sheets. After a few seconds, he let out a snore and jerked his head to the side. Obviously, even in his sleep he was haunted.
Not wanting to get caught and feeling suddenly very guilty, Hermione crept back out of the room and re-locked the door.
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
About an hour later, Draco finally decided to wake up to the world. Confused at his surroundings, he grabbed his wand, literally jumped out of bed, threw open the door and stumbled into the hallway. Recognizing the white paint and lone painting hanging on the wall, he remembered that he wasn't kidnapped or being held hostage; even more strange he was in Hermione Granger's house. Coming to that realization, he calmed his palpitating heart and listened to hear any movements; down the hall to his right he heard the faint clatter of dishes and followed the sound, wand at the ready and into the kitchen where he walked in to see the back of Hermione.
"Still don't trust me Malfoy?" Hermione asked lightly and turned around holding a plate full of lightly buttered croissants, not at all afraid of him wielding his wand. "And here I thought you had wizened up." She jibbed.
Annoyed, Draco accepted the plate but didn't move an inch.
"Oh take a seat will you? If I wanted to do something I could have hexed you in your sleep. Tea or coffee?" She asked over her shoulder.
Stiffly, Draco took a seat and poked at the croissants, trying to decide if they were indeed, just croissants. "Tea." He finally decided Hermione wouldn't t try to kill him with food or drink. She was a witch after all, she could just mutter a simple hex and he'd be knocked out but she has yet to do so, so maybe she really does care for his safely.
"Alright here you go." She set his tea down on the table then took the seat opposite him. "How'd you sleep?"
"Fine."
"Just fine?"
"What do you want me to say Granger? I slept brilliantly? Fine. I slept brilliantly. The bed was like heaven. Knocked out the second my head hit the sodding pillow." He glared at her over the rim of his cup.
Hermione just raised an eyebrow at him and hid her smile in her coffee mug. He was rather attractive when he didn't have his guard up and was simply ranting and spitting fire; for a few seconds he was the old Draco Malfoy, someone who didn't care what anyone thought so long as they kept out of his way. "Sorry, just trying to make conversation."
"Why?"
"Oh just eat your croissants will you? We have things to discuss."
Grudgingly, Draco took one croissant and bite into it, much to his annoyance it tasted home-made and was delicious. Before he dug into it and made a fool of himself, he graciously sipped at his hot tea trying to appear cool and collected. "What do we have to discuss Granger? When you're finally going to give me back my robes?"
"Oh yes, now that you mention it I cleaned them this morning. They're sitting on the guest bedroom chair. Didn't you see them?" She very nearly smiled but instead took a huge gulp of coffee. "So have you thought of my offer?"
Draco took another bite into his dish and thought over her words. Yes, he did think about her offer, in fact that was all he could think about last night. It seemed too good to be true, the brightest witch in all of England was offering to help him. It must be a trap set up by the Auror's, why else would she be going out of her way to help a criminal like him? "Yes I have thought of your offer Granger but no thank you." He took a sip in his tea and licked his lips in nervousness, hoping that no one would suddenly jump out and stun him. "I will just quickly change and be on my way." He nodded and moved to stand up.
"Wait what?" Hermione nearly jumped up but restrained herself. "Sorry…did you decline?"
"Yes." Draco nodded stiffly, eyes darting nervously about, searching the walls for any sign of intrusion. "It's quite kind of you to offer but I'm fine."
"Are you really?"
"What exactly are you insinuating Granger?" Almost immediately his eyes bore down on her, full of cockiness and defensiveness.
Hermione sighed and slumped her shoulders; she knew it would be difficult to convince him to let her help but now that it was time, it seemed immensely impossible. "Nothing…nothing Malfoy except for the fact that you; as far as I know have nowhere to go and no one to help you? Which reminds me, what happened to your friends?" Her eyes met his in honest curiosity. She had really forgotten about his friends up until a few seconds ago. Sure she knew the rumors, but as he had proven before they seemed to be just that. Rumors.
Grey eyes narrowed at a point above her head and he let out an annoyed huff at her question. "I'd bet a tenner the rumors have already answered that Granger."
"That they've all shut their doors to you? Yes, so the mills say but what do you?"
Draco's jaw worked and the vein running along his neck flexed as he relaxed his head and stared up at the ceiling; his patience and nerves were wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to apperated to a dark corner in the slums of London where he could simply blend in and keep an eye on both the Aura's and Death Eaters. Here, somewhere in the residential area in Bath locked away in a warded house with a woman who may still possibly hold a grudge against him was more than he could take. His head pounded with the possibilities, each one equally as bad and his stomach twisted knot after knot in panic as he realized how little control he held in the situation.
"Malfoy? Are you alright?" Hermione moved to stand up just as he jumped away from her and pulled out his wand.
"Stay! Stay right there! Don't move!" He breathed out, eyes darting over to the windows, behind him and down the hallway. He was doing a remarkable imitation of a trapped tiger right before pouncing on its prey.
Hermione nodded slowly, having already expected him to draw his wand at some point. She took a deep, calming breath and held up her hands to show they were empty. "Malfoy. What's gone wrong?"
"Don't you hate me?" He blurted out; face reddening with barely controlled anger.
At that, her eyebrows drew up in surprise. "Hate you?"
"Yes!" He took another sweeping glance of his surroundings. "All those years of torture-you hate me I know it! This is a set up-a brilliant one but a set up! I've made school horrid for you and singled you out-I all but sold The Golden Trio back in the war! Of course you'd set up this elaborate ruse to capture me!"
Hermione took in the man holding her at point and realized that even if she wanted, she couldn't hate him. She didn't even resent him the slightest. He had suffered more than she ever did and it shown on his face; the panic, the fear, the unknown of every single day. Yes, she had known that at one point but then she had Harry and Ron; he however had no one but himself. Back then if she felt ill, they'd watch her back, if she was paranoid, they would ground her, if she was nervous about her calculations or facts, they would act as her board and bounce ideas off of her. Draco however, had only his own brain. And that can drive a man mad after awhile. Knowing this, she simply couldn't hate him.
"I don't hate you Malfoy." She spoke slowly and chose her words carefully. "I don't resent you. Not even a little bit. I highly doubt we'll be skipping off for afternoon tea together anytime soon but I defiantly do not hold any grudge against you. And I've told you at least a hundred times I'm not calling the Ministry; so seeing as I'm the only one around here holding out their hand, why not take it?"
Draco stared at the woman opposite him with her hands up in the air staring down the point of his wand but he couldn't detect even a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Don't patronize me Granger. I don't need your pity."
"Good. Because I'm not giving you any." She lied. Or did she? Is guilt the same as pity?
He quirked one eyebrow at her and his scowl deepened into an almost sneer.
"Yes I want to help you but that doesn't mean I'm going to be doing all the work. You are more than welcome to stay here with me-in fact I think it best if you do-you must be civil to both Ron and Harry seeing as obviously we will need their help and you must help out around here."
"I don't cook."
"Tough. Learn."
"I don't do laundry."
"Fair enough; I'd rather you not see my knickers anyways."
At that, Draco blushed and looked away from Hermione before his mind could be distracted by the fact that she was indeed a rather attractive woman who may or may not wear fancy bloomers. "I didn't say I accept your offer Granger. So stop drawing up a choir chart."
Hermione's lips quirked up in a small smile as she jutted her chin at him. "I think you have since you've lowered your wand and didn't even realize I've dropped my arms."
Much to Draco's dismay, she was right. Unknowingly he had lowered his wand and she had crossed both her arms over her stomach and he didn't even notice. Irritated at both himself and Hermione, he snatched up his dish of croissants and stalked pass her to the back sitting room. "I want better clothes than that rubbish you keep for Potter and Weasley."
Do Bugger Off, Thanks Do Bugger Off, Thanks
L.
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