Chapter 7: Deliberate
It had not been his most well-thought out move (or had it?).
And it led to a bit of discomfort the following morning. For him.
And it led to an awkward silence for a second (for him) as he realised the awkward situation he had landed himself in.
And he swallowed what might have been an awkward groan when she shifted on him, having apparently climbed atop him in her sleep in an effort to stay warm, though it felt suspiciously like cuddling, even if his lack of experience in that domain made him less than an expert.
Draco got off easy, he decided murderously, and tried to figure out how to get untangled from her koala grip so he could avail himself of the facilities.
After some deliberation he turned to his side to gently slide her off, she slid into a small ball, curled in on herself and grasping his pillow in her small, beautiful hands.
He was unsure how long he sat there watching her that morning, but it was long enough that he found himself rushing to the loo in a rather undignified fashion at the first sign of her stirring.
To their surprise, a return on their invitation arrived the following afternoon from the Malfoy family.
Or, rather, a select reciprocity.
"For you," Severus slipped the crème-coloured envelope of thick, rich paper onto 'her' part of the desk when he closed the door, after sending the cowering messenger off with a glare.
She looked up at him askance; his only reply was a quirked eyebrow before he made his way to the kitchenette for tea, promptly ignoring her.
"Draco has asked me over for tea."
"You'll have to clear your calendar."
She leaned forward to watch his reaction; his words had been toneless and she was not sure if he had been annoyed or amused. His posture gave nothing away as he stirred the cup before him on the counter, his back to her.
Unsure of what her—
She looked at Severus and wondered about how to qualify their situation. Relationship.
…guardian, she decided finally, after some conflicting emotions she was not ready to examine…
-thought of the situation, she felt a bit lost. She looked back down at the invitation.
Opportunity?
Threat?
Olive branch?
What was the meaning behind the invitation—or was there one? Was she making too much of this?
Unsettled and confused, she pursed her lips and considered the fact that perhaps… it was just a simple social nicety, one teenager to another.
But she hated Draco, and he knew that.
She bit her lip.
So of course there was no point in accepting. It was stupid to risk putting herself in such a vulnerable position again.
And yet a part of her was just as desperate to leave the claustrophobic confines of Severus' rooms and lab, the only two places she had seen since her internment; even as she felt anxiety ratchet up a notch or three deep inside her at the possibility of leaving the safety of their confines. It had been months since she'd arrived, bloody and beaten, and despite the paper, quills, magazines and hair potions (of all things), nothing could varnish the fact that she was in protective custody in the best of terms.
With a sigh, Hermione realised she really just wanted to get out.
Freedom seemed a long way off, but if there was a chance, a choice…
Perhaps she could look at it as just a chance to explore other areas of the Dark Lord's compound? To at least get an idea of the lay of the land, and where she truly was?
From his place at the kitchenette, Severus watched her calmly, unbeknownst to her, waiting for her decision.
He withdrew to bed early that night without a word.
Severus arched an eyebrow at Hermione as she stood before him expectantly.
"Well?"
He watched her, wondering what she wanted, and was soon rewarded by an exasperated huff.
Oh good, she would be explaining herself any moment now, he mused.
"Aren't you coming with me?" she asked, and he noticed she actually looked a bit concerned beneath her usual armour of Gryffindor courage.
Then she folded her arms over her chest, and her distress morphed into self-consciousness.
It became quite clear to him, then. "You don't trust Draco? Then why did you accept the invitation?"
"Because I can't show fear in the face of the enemy," she snapped, and summoned his boots to him, waving at him. "Now chop-chop, I don't want to be late for tea." Her pinched expression clearly read, "Like Hell I'm stepping through his door without having you with me."
"Doesn't my presence somehow negate any respect Draco may hold for you personally?"
"No, your presence will improve my street cred and make him think twice about putting cyanide in the tea biscuits."
He looked at her, then, perturbed.
"I provide you with… 'street cred'…?" He asked awkwardly, confused.
Hermione blushed and tried to think of a non-muggle simile. "Uh… " She wracked her brain but after a few moments she couldn't come up with anything and made a frustrated sound in her throat, then looked at him pleadingly.
"Could you please just come scare the piss out of him so I can come back here alive when this stupid farce is over? Please, Severus?"
Oh.
And damn it all, she was being honest and her lovely eyes were open even wider than usual, and she was dressed nicely and comfortably, not like the Knockturn Alley trollop she had impersonated the other day, and he was sure she had used the hair potions again…
Walls slammed up, barring his thoughts from progressing any further.
But one thing was certain: Yes, he certainly did need to go with her to see Draco.
"Well why didn't you just say so?"
Her face lit up, and he had to turn away, using the excuse of tying on his boots while she hopped excitedly from foot to foot.
AN: To be continued.
