Chapter 4

A/N: It's a cold, icky day here. It's ten degrees out (Celsius) and there's a misty stuff raining down. It's a day to stay inside wrapped in a warm blanket (I dread having to go outside for class this afternoon). For anyone else plagued with horrible weather, here's a new chapter!

As always, thanks to all you wonderful reviewers and to jocelynnn and Amortentia Veritaserum for betaing!

~Frosty

Hermione sighed. She was tired, she had to work in the morning, and she couldn't fall asleep! Wiggling around uncomfortably on Draco's ridiculously expensive and soft sheets, she tried to settle herself better on the incredibly soft mattress. Had she been able to sleep, it would have felt like she was sleeping on a cloud.

Continuing to wiggle, she twisted onto her stomach, burying her face in a pillow. In the process of working up a monumentally foul mood, she stayed that way until she started to run out of air. Reluctantly emerging from under the pillow, she turned her head to the side and glared at the wall while sighing.

When she reached her fifth sigh, Draco rolled towards her and slipped an arm around her waist, dragging her across the soft sheets until she was pressed against him.

"What's got you twisted up in knots?" he mumbled against her shoulder. "Are you frightened?" If there had been anything but concern in his voice at the second question, Hermione would have hexed him. However, he was only asking out of genuine care and worry, so she let it go.

"I'm not scared of Malfoy Manor. It's just so... unwelcoming here. I feel like the house itself is looming menacingly over me, waiting for its moment to strike."

Draco nodded, his silky hair ticking her ear and neck with his movement.

It was a testament to how distraught she was that she didn't even experience the usual wave of goose bumps from the delicate touch. Contact with Draco rarely failed to illicit a strong physical reaction from her.

"Nothing's going to happen to you; I won't let it," he said adamantly.

While Hermione melted a little at the proclamation, she knew he couldn't possibly protect her from everything. Besides, she didn't want him to protect her if the cost was his own safety. Hermione wasn't the type to just sit back while her loved ones risked their lives to save her won.

When they'd been younger, it hadn't taken much to come between them. Now, older and wiser, Hermione wasn't going to let a vague threat on her life and a creepy stalker keep her from Draco now that they'd found each other again after their years apart.

She would rather risk death while in his arms than have to spend all of her time missing him again.

"No one can promise that," she said with yet another sigh.

How she wished a few pretty words could keep death at bay. Unfortunately, the universe didn't work that way.

"Maybe not, but I can do everything in my power. I'm not a helpless teenager anymore; my power is considerable." There was the slightest hint of a smug smirk on his lips that actually made her feel better; if he could use the situation to gloat about his influence, then it made their situation seem a tad less serious.

She snuggled against him, hoping that he wasn't going to get in over his head with people who wanted the both of them dead.

There was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that told her he was already in over his head – the both of them were.

After a long night of tossing and turning, Hermione blearily blinked her eyes open. She was hoping she was in her own bed and not at the Manor, where she was going to have to deal with Narcissa and the constant feeling that the Malfoy ancestral home was trying to kill her.

Blinking a few times to get her tired pupils to focus, she sighed. No such luck; she was still at the Manor and still felt completely unwelcome.

She rolled over to find that Draco wasn't beside her.

Lovely, he'd left her alone so his house could kill her in her sleep or something. It was all an elaborate plot to get rid of her... or something. Her poor, sleep addled mind was having difficulty coming up with any good conspiracy theories.

Before she could start to put serious thought into where he could have gone, he wandered in wearing only a towel.

"Mother likes breakfast at eight sharp, and she's going to be expecting us soon," he said by way of greeting.

Hermione glanced at the clock before turning a glare on Draco. They were expected for breakfast in fifteen minutes, she didn't even have time for a shower.

Looking slightly sheepish, Draco shrugged. "You didn't sleep most of the night so I figured you could use a bit of a lie-in."

Irritated, she whipped the covers off and stood, immediately bringing a hand to her head in an attempt to sooth the headache that had made an appearance the moment she was upright. She could already tell it was going to be a wonderful day.

It was close, but Hermione managed to quickly shower and make herself presentable in the little time Draco had allowed her.

Her anger towards the blond had abated somewhat as she'd readied herself; he had only wanted her to get some more sleep. By not waking her, he'd limited the time she spent worrying over dinner with his mother and maximized her sleeping time. He'd only had her best interests in mind.

Unfortunately, her headache didn't abate with her anger. It seemed to be determined to linger for the day.

She made sure to stick close to Draco as they once again navigated the maze-like corridors.

Hermione wasn't even going to attempt going somewhere in his house on her own. There was bravery and then there was stupidity; stupidity would be ignoring her instincts that were telling her she wouldn't quite be safe wandering the halls on her own.

When they arrived in the dining room, Narcissa was already seated, delicately picking at a plate of fruit set in the middle of the intimidating table.

It was such a large table; Hermione had no doubt that two people on opposite ends wouldn't be able to hold a conversation without the assistance of magic. She was sure it had come in handy when the Manor had housed to Voldemort. To preserve her meagre appetite, Hermione had to force thoughts of the horrible things that had probably happened around the large piece of furniture from her mind.

After pulling a chair out for Hermione across the table from his mother, Draco settled beside the brunette.

"I trust you slept well?" the Malfoy matriarch asked politely.

Hermione, not wanting to be rude, smiled and nodded. "Very well, thank you."

"I suggest you try the eggs Benedict, the Malfoy elves make the best anywhere," Draco said to Hermione. She frowned at the mention of House Elves but wasn't going to get into her disapproval of the creatures in front of his mother. She wanted to make a good impression, and she had a feeling that campaigning to free their slaves wasn't the way to do that.

With a nod and a weak smile at Draco, she agreed that the eggs Benedict sounded lovely.

There was laughter in his eyes at her pained expression, but she couldn't understand what about the situation it was that he found so amusing.

Draco summoned an elf with a snap of his fingers and placed the order, covertly watching Hermione for a reaction out of the corner of his eyes.

Hermione didn't hear a word he said, she was entirely focused on the tiny dress the elf was wearing. On the creature's petite frame was a tiny pink dress with the Malfoy crest stamped on the skirt.

Clothes on House Elves could only mean one thing, but she couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her. It was too difficult to fathom.

"Draco insisted we free all the Malfoy elves almost the moment the war was over," Narcissa said, watching Hermione closely.

Brown eyes wide, she turned to stare at Draco, who merely shrugged. He was looking slightly uncomfortable again. Doing good deeds was apparently embarrassing for him. It was kind of cute.

Forgetting that his mother was sitting across the table from them, Hermione threw her arms around Draco and pressed a hard kiss against his slack and surprised mouth. His moment of hesitation before responding reminded Hermione whose company they were in and she released him abruptly, her face burning.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, resisting the urge to press her hands against her cheeks in an effort to cool their heat. "That was very kind of you to do," she said, her discomfort increasing rapidly.

Smirking, Draco patted her shoulder, only making it worse for her.

Narcissa looked between the two before letting out a trill of laughter. "You, Miss Granger, are a delight. I can see why Draco is so fond of you."

Their eggs appeared in front of them at that moment, to Hermione's immense relief. They saved her from having to think up an answer besides a smile of thanks.

As it turned out, Draco had been telling the truth. The eggs really were the best Hermione had ever tasted. The food tasted even better because she knew it was made by elves with vacation time and wages.

Breakfast was finished in relative silence but there was less tension in the room. Hermione felt a little more accepted, even though she still suspected that the Manor would have liked her dead if it could have managed it. Maybe she was just imagining things, or maybe it was some type of post-traumatic stress from her previous visit, but when dealing with magic – particularly the dark variety – it was better to be careful. She was going to avoid the Manor as much as possible in the future.

Narcissa bid them farewell at the fireplace, tilting her head for a kiss on the cheek from Draco, and surprising Hermione with a delicate hug and a double cheek kiss that shocked the brunette. If she didn't know better, Hermione would think that Narcissa actually liked her.

When they were safely through the Floo and back in her flat, Draco confirmed this observation.

He kissed her quickly on the top of her head and said proudly, "Mother approves, I can tell."

Releasing her from his hold, he withdrew his wand and left to prowl the few rooms of her relatively small flat for stalkers or other ill-wishers.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his concern; if someone unwelcome had entered her flat, then her wards would have warned her. She'd cast them herself, so Hermione was confident in the strength of her wards. Draco wasn't going to listen to reason though, it was best that she let him prowl around and get his male desire to protect her against a threat that wasn't really there out of his system.

Secretly, it made her feel better that he was going over all the rooms before leaving her alone, but she wasn't going to tell him that. It would probably encourage him.

Her heart jumped into her throat and her hand whipped to her wand at the sound of a thud and then a bang coming from her bedroom. He'd actually found someone?

She raced over to see Draco had Ginny at wand-point, both of them ruffled from a scuffle.

"Draco! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Hermione demanded.

He didn't lower is wand. "Ask her something only the real She-Weasel would know."

Ginny looked bewildered, but that was rapidly giving way to rage. Someone was going to suffer a bat-bogey hex if she wasn't released immediately.

"What did I say to you when Ron and I ended our relationship?" Hermione asked.

With a glare at her friend for going along with the insane blond and his overreactions, Ginny answered. "It's a trick question. He kissed you during the final battle, but you never actually had a relationship with him." Her face turned thoughtful. "Although the night after that kiss, you told me that your heart wasn't yours to give anymore, and a relationship with Ron could never work." She glanced at Draco, who had started to lower his wand. "I didn't understand it at the time, but it's making more sense now. He had it all along, didn't he?"

Hermione nodded.

Glancing between the pair, Draco put his wand away completely. Hermione was perfectly safe with the redhead, but he had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before the youngest Weasley hexed him.

He was touched by the conversation, but didn't want to show it in front of the Weaslette; he was a stoic Slytherin and all that. Instead, he walked over to Hermione, wrapped an arm around her and laid a quick kiss on her temple, ignoring the look Ginny was shooting his way.

"I have to go to work," he said. It was the truth, but he'd been planning on going in a little late – he was the boss and all that, making his own hours. However, if they were going to have some girl time or whatever it was the females did when there were no men around, then he was going to get some work done. He could always leave work early to spend some extra time with Hermione once the irritating redhead was gone.

As soon as they were alone, Hermione turned to her friend, who had perched on the edge of her bed. The irritated expression was gone from Ginny's face, having melted into a sober look.

"Ginny? Is there something wrong?" Hermione asked, slightly worried by her friend's uncharacteristic seriousness. She crossed the room and perched on the sofa beside the redhead.

Ginny looked uncomfortable. "Nothing wrong, just cramps. You know how it is..."

"I have some potions you can take," Hermione offered. "They're quite effective."

"Won't you need them?"

Hermione couldn't figure out why her friend seemed almost hopeful that she would have cramps bad enough to need to take a potion in order to function properly. The whole visit didn't quite make sense.

"Ginny, why were you in my room?" she asked with a hint of suspicion. Maybe Draco's paranoia was contagious, or maybe Ginny didn't inspire trust what with her recent covert spell work, but Hermione knew that something was off.

Ginny wasn't the type to forget a necessity like cramp-relieving potion when it was her time of the month, so there had to be something else on her mind.

"I want answers!" the redhead burst out.

At Hermione's confused expression, she elaborated.

"Hermione, you've kind of brought me into the story at the ending. I want to know how it started."

Knowing this conversation was a long time coming and that Ginny had been nice and allowed her some time with Draco before she started the inquisition, Hermione prepared for a long night of explanations. Underhanded methods or not, Ginny had brought her and Draco together again, so the least Hermione could do was tell a story she'd been keeping from everyone for years.

"What do you want to know?" she asked with a sigh.

"How did you go from hating each other to..." she gestured vaguely in the direction Draco had disappeared in. "That."

Hermione crinkled her nose in distaste. She had never shared the story with anyone, it felt a little like she was about to expose an important part of herself that she'd kept hidden from everyone. Something about keeping a secret for so long made it second nature to protect that secret.

"It never would have happened if Draco didn't have a tendency to wander the halls late at night. He'd been having trouble sleeping from all the stress he was under..."

Glancing behind her, Hermione darted from one shadow to the next, hoping she wouldn't be caught out of bed after hours. It was the middle of winter and the castle was freezing. Every winter it was as if the cold stone of the walls and floors absorbed the frigid temperatures from outside and repelled the warmth offered by the fires burning throughout the place.

She was trying to be quick and as stealthy as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room. Ever since the rift that had developed between her and Ron over his recent relationship with Lavender, Hermione had been avoiding Gryffindor tower as much as possible by spending long hours in the library and sometimes the Room of Requirement.

With one last frantic look up and down the corridor, Hermione paced back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall, asking for a quiet place where she could study. Pleased with herself for having thought of using the Room of Requirement for studying, she pulled open the door that had appeared with a tiny smile of congratulations.

The first thing she saw was a pair of startled grey eyes staring at her.

"Malfoy?" she gasped.

Sure, she'd been seeing less and less of him at dinner and in classes, but she'd always just assumed that he was hiding away in the Slytherin dorms on the few occasions when she'd given the matter any thought at all.

"Get out of here Granger!" he snapped, his voice laden with the venom that only years of enmity could provide. However, underneath that venom was a desperation that hadn't been there in his younger years.

Hermione ignored him and pushed farther into the room. She had just as much right to be there as he did, and she wasn't going to let the entitled arse kick her out of the one place in the castle where she didn't have to worry about running into Ronald and his dearest Lav-Lav.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as an angry flush crept up Malfoy's neck and a vein bulged in his forehead. She was expecting him to blow and start insulting her parents, so she was shocked when he took a deep breath and then visibly deflated, deciding to just let it go.

Hermione was settled on the sofa with her books spread out on the table in front of her when he flopped into one of the cushy chairs placed nearby. She didn't comment on his sudden decision to forgo their usual confrontation for fear that he would take it as an invitation to start arguing.

She was glad for the fire that kept out the chill she'd been facing while in the corridors and didn't want to have to leave the warmth because he decided to start throwing hexes or something. It was toasty and warm in the Room of Requirement, despite the cold look Malfoy was shooting her way.

He looked tired – completely exhausted. It was distracting her from her work. His cheekbones and chin looked even sharper than normal, he'd obviously lost weight and the colour of his skin was whiter than ever, save for the dark bruise-coloured smudges under his eyes. He seemed liable to keel over at any moment.

They sat for hours like that in near-silence, the scratching of Hermione's quill and the scrape of paper moving on paper were the only sounds in the room. Hermione was the first one to leave. She closed up her books and walked out, leaving him there staring moodily into the fire.

The next day, Hermione found herself inexplicably drawn back to the same room. However, she made sure to bring a few apples and buttered rolls from dinner with her. Another night of trying to ignore that Malfoy looked half-dead would be unbearable. Maybe Molly's tendency to feed everyone had rubbed off, or maybe it was her own kind nature - she wasn't sure which. She just knew that on the off chance he was there again, he would eat something.

He was there.

His eyes were void of any of the surprise he'd exhibited the previous night. It seemed that he'd resigned himself to her presence.

Hermione knew that he hadn't attended either lunch or dinner that day, she'd been keeping a lookout for him. He had to be starving.

Resolutely, she pulled the paper bag of food out of her satchel and set out the apples and rolls on the corner of the table closest to Malfoy. When she peeked up at him, she saw that he was looking at her like she was some sort of puzzle he couldn't figure out.

"I won't get any work done if I'm sitting here wondering if you're going to fall over and die." At his disbelieving look, she hastily added, "I'd probably get blamed for it."

Still with his eyes on her like she was going to attack, Malfoy reached out and took one of the rolls, biting into it hesitantly.

When he finished the food, he actually nodded his thanks, a movement Hermione nearly missed because it was so minute.

"After that, we started talking and got closer and closer, meeting there every night," Hermione finished. It felt like something she hadn't even realized had been weighing her down was finally lifted from her shoulders. "We could never figure out why the room opened for me that first night once he already was inside, but I like to think it's because the room knew we required each other. We just didn't know it yet."

Ginny rolled her eyes, ignoring Hermione's sappy musings. "That's how it started, but you didn't get to any of the good bits! Like why was he skipping meals and when he first snogged you silly!"

"He wasn't eating because the stress of the task Voldemort had set for him was ruining his appetite, and while everyone was gathered in the Great Hall for meals was the perfect time for him to work on the vanishing cabinet." Hermione was less willing to answer the second question, but she continued on, knowing that any stalling tactics would only prolong her discomfort. "I was the first one to kiss him." She blushed at the memory. "I kind of jumped on him, my momentum made him stumble back and trip over an ottoman. Once we were sure he didn't have a concussion, I snogged him silly."