Chapter 4:
After the rollercoaster of the first two days as a new person Hermione hadn't realised how much sleep she'd missed out on: not just then but in the months previously whilst they'd been on the run. This feather bed was like a heavenly cloud compared to the rough ground she'd been sleeping on whilst on the run with the boys. She frowned; almost five seconds since waking up without thinking of their betrayal. Rolling out of bed, she picked up the skirts of the impractical night-dress Bellatrix had given her, although she supposed it wasn't as if she'd be getting into any more skirmishes with snatchers or dark wizards in the middle of the night any time soon. Stomach growling again, she decided to go find some breakfast.
The issue with that plan was that once she got outside her door she couldn't seem to orient herself. The hallway stretched on for what seemed like miles, and she wasn't sure she'd know where to go when she did find the stairs. The logical thing to do then was to get some help, and since no house elves seemed to be about she would have to try the doors. Knocking on each one, Hermione got no answer, until she lifted her fist a fifth time only to be stopped by the comment from behind her, "hunting for ghosts Granger?" Behind her was none other than Malfoy.
She shifted, uncomfortable to admit another weakness in front of him after the one he'd seen yesterday, even if this was completely understandable. "I'm... somewhat lost."
"Well that's ridiculous," she opened her mouth to protest, the tone he'd used every time he'd ever spoken her making her want to lash back immediately. "No-one's given you a tour yet? Where is the Malfoy hospitality that's always spoken of?"
She scoffed. "I'm not sure 'hospitable' is the first word that comes to mind when most people think of your family."
He wagged a finger. "Our dinner guests would have to dispute you on that. We throw an excellent party." She rolled her eyes but followed him anyway. "You should be glad I caught you when I did or you'd have been left banging on doors for hours. This corridor is all guest bedrooms," he explained. She did a double take, looking back down the corridor at all the rooms. There was enough to house the entire Weasley clan (including its honorary members) twice over. "And besides, it's mid-afternoon."
"Mid-afternoon!" She exclaimed. She'd never slept in that late. She was always up early. She had a routine. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Brush hair. Revise. Breakfast in the Great Hall with her friends or in the kitchen with her parents. 'Friends'. 'Parents'.
"And this is-" Malfoy paused, realising that she wasn't really listening. "Everything alright?"
She started to shake her head then nodded instead. "Just- can we start in the kitchen. I'm starving."
The kitchen was as tidy and speck-free as the rest of the house, at least it was before they arrived. Once they had, Malfoy proceeded to call for ingredients and bowls from the house elves and mix things, as he ordered her up onto the countertop, out of the way. She was too stunned to protest. "You cook?"
"Usually only on Mothering Sunday but I'll make an exception today." She watched as he made pancake mixture, pointing his wand at the refrigerator so that the batter magically didn't need to be left overnight and then pouring it into the pan and flipping it. "Every year my mother begs me to cook these more often, but it's something to look forward to in March," he said cockily, tipping the 'pancake' onto a plate. Seeing her unimpressed look at the shapeless unappetising lump, he sidestepped and tipped the contents into the bin. "The first one's always bollocks."
"You're a dab hand at this," She laughed as the second and third also ended up 'bollocks'. The lemon and sugar didn't coat them enough to disguise the taste. "Mummy's boy, much?"
"Wanker," he retaliated. "Next time I'll just get the house elves to bring you a bowl of cocoa puffs."
"Ooh cocoa puffs!" Hermione exhaled almost erotically, causing Malfoy to swat at her with a tea towel as she squealed with laughter.
After she'd been fed, Hermione promised she'd be an attentive listener on the tour, so Malfoy showed her around the rest of the manor. It was truly incredible, and certainly big- either that or the residents were avoiding her- as they didn't run into anyone else whatsoever. Once they'd processed all the way up to the top of the building where the family's large bedrooms, or perhaps she should call them chambers since they were made up of multiple fit-for-royalty rooms, Malfoy took her back downstairs again. Her confused queries about where they were going reaped no fruition, and it was only when they paused in front of the one room he'd breezed past that a curious smile lit up her features. The Ravenclaw in her had been shouting at the top of her lungs that they had to find out what was in there, but Hermione had hushed the voice, assuming it was something she wasn't meant to know so she should just stay out of it. Malfoy smirked, clearly reading her nervous excitement. "I saved the best till last." With a hand on each of the double doors, he pushed it open, as that Ravenclaw surfaced again, squealing in excitement. Within was a marvelous library with fantastic Greek columns and ornate staircases leading up to different levels where different genres were kept, each level with armchairs and ever-roaring fires. Hermione couldn't help but be reminded of the scene in the film adaptation of her favourite childhood book where Beast had shown Belle the library. Eleven year old Hermione had told her mother "that's what I want from my dream man!"
"Good luck with that honey," Jean Granger had laughed and tickled her. Now, Hermione smiled earnestly at Draco, surprised he knew her so well.
"You do know this was here already Granger?" He pointed out. "It's not like I got you a gold necklace."
"You can call me Hermione," she said, then backtracked when he said nothing in response. "Or Amara, or whatever. I just, uh, think it would upset you-know-who, and by that I mean both of them, if you kept calling me Granger."
When she'd stopped her rambling he gave her a knowing look. "Alright, Hermione. But only if you'll call me Draco." She could agree to that.
