Chapter Six

Angel

"You eat this stuff," Draco asked loudly and rudely in the grocery store the next day.

Hermione snatched the package of frozen peas from his hand and threw it back into the freezer. "You heat them up," she explained. "Let me to do the shopping."

"Then why did I come along?"

She sighed, aggravated. She didn't know what gave her the idea that grocery shopping with Draco would be fun, that it would be a good experience for him, but she was wrong. He must have asked a hundred questions from the moment they left the house, all the way into the cab in the next muggle neighborhood to the store. It was exhausting and she tried to remember the calming morning she had, the pink carnation lying on her pillow, and the kiss that waited for her in the dining room. The sweetest morning surprises she ever had.

"This is the way we shop. Really, Draco, you should've taken Muggle Studies. It's a great help to prepare you for the future."

"Why," he spat sardonically, "that's why I have you."

With an orange in her hand, she snapped to him. "If that's the way you feel, Malfoy -"

He grinned widely.

"What?"

"Is it odd that I love you calling me by my surname?"

She huffed indignantly. "Yes." Then she smiled, and shook her head. "How do you do that?"

He began walking down the aisle, goosebumps over his skin from the coldness of the surrounding machines. "How do I do what?"

"Give me a headache and then make me feel..." She bit her lip nervously.

"I think it has something to do with how you make me feel."

"How is that?"

"Like I'm the luckiest man on earth. Not just wizard. You deserve everything I'm able to give you, and I will. I will make you happy."

"There's something you're not telling me," she guessed, reading his averted gaze.

He pushed an apple over, it falling into the bin of tangerines. "I was thinking about your offer... If it means that much to you, I'll go to Dumbeldore..."

Startled by his confession she stopped, and he walked on a couple of steps before stopping himself, his head cocked to listen to her soft words.

"Are you serious? What about your family?"

He turned slightly, his knuckles white from the hold he had on the basket, swinging slightly by his jean clad thigh. "If Dumbledore can protect my family too, then I'd be happy to do what I can. I don't want to be known as I am, Hermione. I don't want you to be ashamed of me. Those drawings you carry shouldn't be the only proof."

She beamed, and their future seemed to brighten with a suns light. She knew his decision had something to do with Theo and their conversation the night before.

"We can go right now! I can owl Mr. Weasley -"

"No," he hissed, coming closer, right to her face. "Not now. Later. When school starts I'll speak with Dumbledore."

"Why not now?"

"I want to enjoy our vacation in peace. Now, nothing more about battles, wars, and sides, okay? Promise me."

She nodded, giving in. Draco Malfoy had just agreed to work for the Order and she would have to be satisfied with that. She was more than satisfied even, she was elated at the surprise, and when he held out his hand she wasted no moment in taking it.

Given that they won the war, she would have to do something for Nott. If it wasn't for him, Draco would have never came to the decision he did. He did what she could not. He changed his destiny.

She leaned into his side, dreaming about the days where they could be together without worry. She thought of sunlit days where they would have picnics outside, teaching how to cook, and laughing with friends, both his and hers. The Gryffindors and Slytherins finally uniting in peace. Though it was doubtful Harry and Ron would ever make peace with him, it was fibers of dreams that she would hold on to.

His joining the Order would change everything, it was one less person to fight, one more person on their side, and they could be together with nothing to hide.

"What's next?"

She smiled. "Picking out a tree. I noticed that your house isn't decorated for Christmas!"

"My parents thought it would be wasteful as I would be the only one home. They also assumed that I'd be spending the holiday with one of my mates."

That was strange, the endlessly rich Malfoy's thinking something would be wasteful. "We'll take it slow. Tonight, I'll teach you how to bake cookies, then tomorrow, bright and early, we'll pick out a tree."

He relented easily. "Whatever makes you happy."

Hermione wasted no time when they arrived at the Manor. She put away the food and set out the appropriate cookware for baking the box of cookies that sat on the counter. She would have rather baked them from scratch, but given that it was Draco's first time, and that he ruined the last meal he attempted, it was better to start off easy.

He leaned on the island at an appropriate distance to show that he had no intention at getting involved.

"Get over here," she commanded as she spun the knob on the stove.

"This isn't necessary."

"You said whatever made me happy," she reminded ripping open the cookie box and taking out the packet. "We're not even doing this by scratch, you have no rights to complain."

He grumbled incoherently, but she ignored him. She gave him a bag of flour and told him to sprinkle the pan. That was when the trouble began.

The bag ripped open and the contents of it flooded out into the pan, over the counter, onto the floor, and onto their clothes. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust, wiping off his front, but Hermione giggled as it smeared and he swiped harder.

"You think this is funny?"

She nodded, not able to speak, the giggling turning into laughter. She held onto the edge of the counter as she bent over, overtaken by them.

"Very mature, Hermione."

She straightened gasping to speak, but before she could a handful of flour was pushed into her face, shoved in her mouth, and she coughed. She heard him laughing.

With her fingers she extracted the white coat from her eyes, and glared at him. "Yes, that was more mature than me."

The corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk. It was a dare, and who was Hermione Granger - a Gryffindor - to back down from a dare? She took a handful herself and pushed it into his face, hoping that it went up his nose.

It was childish, immature, and a bit more than cliche, but they threw the flour, it raining down like the worst of all snowstorms. They laughed and teased, and Draco caught her waist, kissing her neck as he dumped the rest of the bag over her head and into her hair. Unfortunately doing the same to him wouldn't have made much of a difference to his.

She twisted out of his grip and they slipped, falling to the floor. They gasped, appearing whiter - though less transparent than Nearly-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron. She turned her head to peer at him.

"Do you know how to make an angel?"

"Should I attach wings to your back?"

Suddenly she stood and went to the edge of the kitchen. "Wave your arms and legs."

"What in Merlin's pants are you talking about?"

"Do it!"

Rolling his eyes he did as she said. For the second time he incoherently muttered what she presumed were curse words.

"Okay, stop." She grasped his hands and pulled him to his feet and off to the side. "Careful, watch your step." She positioned him in front of the creation on the floor pointing to it. "See, Draco, you are an angel."

He chuckled. "Sometimes, Hermione, I think you really are not as smart as you appear to be. Don't you see, I would not have made that if it wasn't for you, so even at the end of all of this, you'll still be the angel, and I hope that at the end you'll still be mine."

"I'm afraid," she blurted out. "I think I'm getting too accustomed to this."

All humor left him, and his hold on her waist tightened. "I'm not going to lose you. Every day that I spend with you the more I know that I'll do anything to keep you. I don't know how this is going to end, but I won't give up without a fight. I promised I'll go to Dumbledore, and that I will do. I'll do anything."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, she could feel that. He'd be safer with the Order, but he would still fight, and the anger it would induce in his former comrades scared her. They would be much harder on him.

She hoped it would be her to go, but the question remained... Was Draco doomed to die?