It's the start of a long weekend! I can't wait to sleep in, or have the cats wake me up at 6:30. The latter is more likely to actually happen.
Chapter 4
Draco's days were spent watching Hermione work, and it bored him to tears. She chatted with customers, completed sales, restocked shelves, and occasionally returned to her office for paperwork. He stationed himself in a comfortable armchair near the counter, pretending to read, but really keeping a close eye on her.
It unnerved Hermione to have those gray eyes on her at all times. It was only when they returned to her flat after the shop was closed that he stopped staring at her. Most nights, Draco did the cooking and they ate in front of the television. It had been weeks since the last break in, and with no new developments, the pair settled into a comfortable routine.
"Spaghetti again?" Hermione asked, nose wrinkled as she towel dried her hair, wet from the shower.
Rolling his eyes, he carried two plates to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. "It's angel hair. There's a difference," he retorted.
"Yeah, the name," she muttered, sitting down beside him. "It's just a slightly thinner noodle. Both make a mess, especially with the way you slurp. I'm still trying to get the sauce stains out of your white shirt. Which reminds me - go change first. Put on something red."
He did as he was told, recalling just how many stains he'd gotten on the white button-down he'd worn the last time they had this meal. Within minutes, he returned, dressed in a red t-shirt. Hermione grinned, delighted that he did as she requested. He reclaimed his seat beside her, picked up his plate, and focused on the TV screen. An hour into the movie, he felt a head rest on his shoulder. Glancing down, he noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep. He sat as still as possible, fearful of waking her. Most nights, he could hear her toss and turn, whimper and cry as she battled her nightmares. She could do with a bit of uninterrupted rest.
When the movie ended, he slowly extricated the remote from her hand. He had mastered the art of pressing the buttons until he found the local news. It was the same thing every night - robbery, economic troubles, traffic accident, bad weather. But none of it was happening in his world, and for that he could stomach watching it. He, too, began to drift off until he saw an odd sight on the screen. Behind the reporter stood two greasy looking men dressed in black cloaks. Muggles didn't dress that way. Quickly, he shook Hermione awake.
"Recognize them?" he asked.
Hermione sat up and blinked rapidly. Silently, after several seconds of concentration, she nodded. "The Lestrange brothers," she murmured. "What are they doing in London?"
Sighing, he dug the heel of his hand into his right eye. "My guess - making their way to Diagon Alley," he replied.
"You really think they're the ones breaking in?" she wondered. "Why would they do that?"
"Because my deranged aunt wanted you dead," he suggested. "Rodolphus followed her blindly, and Rabastan was always his little puppy dog. If big brother says kill the mudblood, he'll do it."
Hermione flinched, then heard his soft apology. "They're Death Eaters," she said softly. "How have they not been caught yet?"
Shaking his head, he shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes glued to the screen. "I honestly don't know," he replied. "Polyjuice, Disillusionment charms, invisibility cloak? All are possibilities. I promise you this, though - they'll be caught before they have a chance to break in again."
Standing, her shoulders tense, she looked at him resolutely. "They don't scare me," she declared, holding her head high.
Draco smirked as she cleared their dinner plates. "You haven't seen the things they've done," he told her. "You may be smarter than them, but they're vile and ruthless killers. They don't care that Unforgivables are illegal. You got lucky that they didn't spot you behind the counter. Who knows what tortures they would have inflicted before finally finishing you off."
She nodded slightly before leaving the living room. When he was alone, he moved to the fireplace, tossed a handful of powder into the hearth, and contacted his boss. "Potter, Lestranges spotted in muggle London," he stated. "I think they're headed our way. I might need backup tonight."
"You've got a team of four on the way," Harry reported. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."
"I will," Draco replied before disconnecting the call.
Hermione returned as he pulled his head from the hearth. "What's going on?" she inquired, noting how uncharacteristically frazzled he looked. He laid out the plan - backup would be stationed both inside and outside the shop, and they would stay in her flat. "Honestly, Draco, I really don't think they're the problem you make them out to be."
He rose to his full height, towering over her as he crossed his arms. "I know them, you don't," he stated through clenched teeth. "This is the plan and there's no diverging. You'll stay here, the Aurors will guard the shop, and I'll guard you. End of discussion."
With a huff, she sat down and stared at him as he enhanced the wards around her flat. When he finished, he stationed himself by the front window. "You're making me nervous," she said. "Couldn't you sit? If there are Aurors downstairs, you don't need to stand in the window. If the Lestrange brothers even show, they'll get to them before you can."
Draco scowled, glanced out the window once more, then moved away from it. Perched on the edge of the sofa, he scowled when Hermione chuckled. "This is serious," he said tersely. "You could try not making a joke of it. It's your life on the line, remember?"
"And yet I'm not nearly as worried as you are," she commented.
"Yes, why is that?" he inquired, turning his head just enough to look at her.
Shrugging, she played with the television remote. "Because you won't do anything to risk your career," she replied. "And that means you're not going to let anyone hurt me. It's why you called Harry right away without any proof that Rodolphus or Rabastan are coming here."
Shaking his head, he returned to the window. "What if they do show up?" he wondered.
Rising from the sofa, she joined him. "I know you'll protect me," she said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "And I also know you're not just doing it because of your career. You're not a cold, insensitive git anymore. In fact, I'd say you're beginning to consider me a friend."
Draco smirked and lowered his wand. "My father would disown me if I did that," he informed her. Her hand left his shoulder as she took a step back. "Besides, I try not to make it a habit of getting attached to my charges."
"Makes sense," she mumbled before excusing herself. Locking herself in the bathroom, she leaned against the door. "Cold, insensitive git," she said before taking a long hot shower.
