Hi guys. Im SO sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've just been really busy. But hopefully now that I have a break and I'm getting back into the mojo of writing, I will be updating a lot more frequently than usual.
I am hoping to take this story into a slightly different direction. Obviously the character establishment and background will remain the same, but I'm hoping to reunite the golden trio with a few extra tag alongs (DRACO!) for a Ministry approved job. But I would love to hear all of your ideas.
Also, thank you very much for all of the reviews. They really are helpful. A big shout out to fanfictioner: purple-lamb , who really gave me a few pieces of advice and creative criticism. It was very much appreciated. Love you all and hopefully, if you keep reviewing and rating, I shall continue this story and update soon :)
Also, I do apologise for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. I am after all, human ;)
Steph X
Chapter 8:
Hermione Granger slowly awoke.
Breathing in the smell of the crisp morning air, her senses began to return to her slowly. She kept her eyes firmly shut though: a poor attempt at blocking out the already throbbing headache pounding in her skull. When this quickly failed, she timidly pried open a single eyelid before closing it tightly again, grimacing. In addition to her massive headache, Hermione felt as if someone had crept in during the night and stuffed her mouth full of sweaty socks.
Delightful.
What a way to wake up.
She became more conscious as her head rolled slightly to one side, allowing the sunlight peaking through the wall of thick, green curtains to gently caress her skin.
Green?
Her puzzlement and unfamiliarity to the scenery made her open both her eyes.
This isn't right.
With her head still spinning and unable to sit up just yet, she rolled her head over slowly to the other side. Again, analysing her surroundings in the process.
The ceiling was cream, remaining bare aside from the one large glass chandelier in the centre of the room, which sparkled colourfully as the sun hit it. Similarly to the ceiling, the walls of the room were a cream colour too, contrasting to the dark, green hue of the curtains. The windows in the room covered the entirety of one wall, that would expectedly shower the bed with a full impact of sunlight had the curtains been completely drawn. Wriggling about, she sunk further into the soft mattress – differing from her own, firm bed.
Definitely not right.
The king sized bed she was currently occupying was definitely not hers – and she knew that - one hundred per cent. What she was trying to decipher was: if it wasn't her room, whose was it?
Who did she know that owned a king sized bed covered with white, silk covers? Well, she could narrow out the majority of her friends then, as most of them were not on the receiving end of a luxuriously well-paid job. Well, at least not enough to afford both a king sized bed and white, silk covers. That's for sure.
She turned further sideways and found herself glaring at her own wide-eyed reflection in the mirror on the bedroom wall. As always, her thick, brown hair was curly and voluminous. However this morning it was taken a step further, and did indeed look like a family of birds had decided to nestle there overnight. She groaned at her appearance and thrashed her body away, pulling the covers up further over her face.
Racketing her brain for an answer she began to recall the previous nights events. She remembered getting dressed up with Ginny.
Remembered going out clubbing with her.
Remembered Ginny leaving her at the club – leaving without her.
She hissed and tossed her head. That was where her memory went blurry and, unfortunately, most of it was missing.
She shut her eyes and squeezed them tighter together, a habit she had obtained when trying to remember something. It wasn't a particularly attractive look: she looked like a cross between a young child about to have a tantrum and/or painfully constipated. However, in the midst of this utterly ugly facial expression, Hermione Granger somehow managed to make herself look somewhat cute and innocent in the process, something any other person in the world would fail at.
Huffing unhappily, she opened her eyes again and her face began to morph back displaying her natural beauty. She was still unable to recall the rest of the night's events. What she did remember was that she had indeed left with someone. The question was, with whom?
Always the who.
Giving up, and realizing she was in some strange blokes bed, she brought her delicate hands above her head and slung them across her face, in attempt to mask her utter distraught and humiliation.
"Where am I…?!" she groaned loudly to nobody in particular without thinking.
"Miss Granger is right here" a voice replied.
She screamed.
OOO
A hand clapped round my mouth quickly, following by another hand that covered my eyes.
My hands.
Shrieking probably wasn't one of my better ideas, but hey. It was good to know my lungs still worked well.
My fingers parted, my neck craned upwards and I peaked out through the gaps to look at just who had startled me. My eyes scanned the room until my gaze fell upon something terribly small and trembling. It was hiding in the corner of the room by a large, wooden cabinet. Sitting down on the floor with its hands wrapped round its thin legs, it was cradling itself almost in a foetal-like manner.
A house elf.
My eyes widened as I realized I had just scared the hell out of a poor, innocent little house-elf.
Great, now I feel like shit.
"I'm so sorr- Fuck!" I yell angrily as I make to get up, only to collapse back on the bed from the throbbing headache the size of Hogwarts.
However, my rude and painful outburst apparently did the trick and got the elf's attention. She immediately sprung up and clumsily ran over, peering over the side of the bed, resting her chin on the edge. With pale, peachy coloured skin, she looked no taller than three or four feet. However, there was one thing that really surprised me.
She was wearing clothes.
Like, proper clothes.
She was wearing a long, white pinafore dress that fell just past her very knobbly knees, under which she had on a baby blue long sleeved top, which ended at her elbows on her incredibly and painfully petite frame.
On anyone else that would have stopped just passed his or her shoulders.
Huh.
How very un-elfish.
"Miss Granger? Oh, is Miss Granger alright? Master said to prepare breakfast for two…what should I tell master now? Are you well? And in order? Will you be attending breakfast? It is all ready for you and master… Or are you not? Oh no, what would master say to that? Poor Mipsy. Now I has to give master bad news. Oh dear, oh no…!" she began rambling, her bright blue eyes bulging out of her head. I cradle my skull and begin massaging my temples whilst trying to take in what the house elf, Mipsy, was saying.
"God my head…" I moan, applying pressure on a very sensitive spot of my head. Mipsy stops rambling instantly. She blinks twice, and before I know it was had jumped up on the bed and was hovering over me, searching for any sign of injuries.
"Missus? Miss Granger? Is you okay?" she said slightly slower, though her voice was still edged with panic.
I attempt a small nod, followed by a miserable groan as I begin to sit up: my head about ready to explode. Now sitting, I place my small hands on each side of my body and begin to take a few deep breaths.
One.
Two.
"Miss?"
I pause and sigh.
…
Three.
I stretch my arms and neck quickly so as to give Mipsy my full attention. House elf's never scared me. They were always such misunderstood creatures, even Kreacher – having to obey their Masters rules till the end. Bound by strong magic, they were incredibly subservient.
This is why I wasn't worried and admittedly more frightened upon finding this three-foot elf in the room and currently hovering over me. I knew that she wasn't a threat.
And if she was, I recon I could take her.
"Hello. I'm sorry I startled you, I just wasn't aware that anyone was in the room. I was surprised is all…my name's Hermione," I tell her softly, holding my hand out for her.
Silence.
As the minutes slowly tick past, the house elf just sits there with her big eyes and looks at me.
I start to fidget under her wide gaze. I recline my hand back to my body and make towards the end of the bed, crawling.
"Well, this has been fun…but I think I'm just going to go now…" I begin before being cut off by a loud cry.
"But Miss Granger cannot go! Miss must have her breakfast! Master told Mipsy to prepare for two. He is expecting you…" her eyes beginning to water and glaze over.
Oh dear God.
"Okay, okay! I'll have some breakfast…" I bargain.
Upon hearing this, the little house elf's ears perk up and she breaks out into a wide, toothy smile.
"Super Miss! Mater Malfoy will be so thrilled…!" she began rambling again, moving around the room quickly.
I stop.
What?
Master Malfoy?
Oh no…
And then it hits me like a tonne of bricks.
Everything else that happened mere hours ago. An overload of memories and images from last night. Coming face to face with a handsome and blonde haired Malfoy. Telling Ginny that I would be fine at the club by myself: that I didn't want to leave. The apology. The forgiveness. The dance. Oh god, the dancing. He was so muscular, so sexy…
What?!
Oh...
I remember now.
I passed out.
How ladylike.
God what's wrong with me?
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" I begin, grabbing anything that was mine. My head was spinning.
How could I be at MALFOY'S?
What was going through my head?
What was I thinking!?
How could I be so stupid!?
Grabbing my right shoe from the floor, which probably fell during my sleep, I reach for the door. As I do, Mipsy, who's in a panicked state, attaches herself to my left leg, causing me to topple over on last night's heels.
"What the fu—"
"Miss Granger you can't leave!" she cries, sitting on top of my chest and howling into my hair and ridden up top showing my bear midriff.
"Why? Why is Miss leaving? Is it something Mipsy has done? Master will never forgive Mipsy if you do not attend breakfast! I saw last night…important to him…pleas—"
"Wait."
I cut her off.
"What's important to him Mipsy?" I enquire, siting up on my elbows and frowning in curiosity. The house elf's eyes go wide. She begins to shake violently and collapses off my chest and onto the hard floor. Thrashing around, she clasps her hands around her mouth as a plea to keep quiet. I put my knees together and get up awkwardly in the most unrevealing manner possible whilst pulling my shorts down so as to avoid a nasty case of camel-toe. I crouch down to her, reach over and grab her hands away with enough force to break them apart, which finally stops her tantrum.
"Mipsy, what's wrong?" my voice quavers, uncertain as to what was happening.
"I cannot say Missus. He would not like, and he did not say…"
"What do you mean he didn't say?" I ask confused, dropping her hands, which effectively fall into her lap with a thunk.
"Master never said anything. Mipsy saw Master late last night, with young lady in his arms and was taking her to his room. Held her very tight Miss. He was changed…I could see it. Please Missus, don't tell master Mipsy said anything…"
I gave her a small, perplexed smile and agreed not to tell whatever it was she was talking about. However, that did not stop my mind from racing, making me even more confused than ever.
He was changed?
Perhaps she meant that he is different.
But different how?
Hm…
"Well, I suppose I will have to face him at some point. And if breakfast is in the cards for me then, I guess I wont refuse" concurring with my stomachs loud growl, as if on cue.
"Also, I should probably go and see him. To thank him for taking care of me last night obviously…" I mumble to myself, looking everywhere around the room as if expecting another offer.
Walking round the large room, I scan the floor for any more of my few belongings as Mipsy begins talking to me.
"Oh missus, master Malfoy will be thrilled! I must inform master of your presence at breakfast right away! Oh! … But I do not wish to disturb master in the sun room…He is most peaceful in there - "
"No!" I respond quickly, cutting Mipsy off as her little hands immediately stop drawing the curtains back. Standing with the left side of the curtain enveloped in her miniscule arms ready to pull them back, she turned to stare at me as if she had just done something naughty and was about to be scolded.
"I'm sorry. But really, you don't have to disturb him. I'll go see him myself. It's fine. Honestly, no harm done."
I smile encouragingly at her, hoping to Godric she would listen to me. My ulterior motifs were sinking in, and I didn't want to have to tell her why she needn't inform Malfoy of my presence. Especially as it was the simple reason of me wanting to snoop.
"But master Malfoy will want to know that your awake and—"
"I know but…I…"
I stutter, uncertain as to what to say next that sounds somewhat believable.
"I want to surprise him!"
All three feet of the house elf looks at me beaming before dropping the curtain and hurrying over to stand in front of me.
"Oh missus, he hates surprises…" she begins, shuffling and playing with the pleats in her dress.
"But I think he would very much like it. He has been in the sunroom all night unable to sleep. Mipsy thinks master Malfoy is waiting to see you! It's so very nice master has a friend, especially such a nice one too."
I stagger back as she launches this news onto me.
Malfoy waiting for me?
No doubt waiting for his opportunity to smirk and be an arse.
Why is this so bloody difficult? All I want to do is get out of this bloody room and back to some form of sanity!
"Yes! Yeah I'm his friend. Just friends. And as we are friends, I would like to go and see him now to say goodbye. Is that okay Mipsy?"
Untangling herself from her dress' pleats she backs away slightly, giving me more space before bowing and holding her hands in front of her stomach in a subservient manner. As she looks up at me, she smiles kindly. Though it was only a small smile, you could see round her eyes the imprints of quickened aging: possibly due to stress, in addition to a number of scars that remained only a stain on her creased, light pink skin. One scar in particular caught my attention; it ran down the left side of her cheek, down her neck and ended upon the tip of her incredibly pointy shoulder.
How could I have not noticed that before?
I blame the light.
I decided this was neither the time nor the place to ask her about it. So I left it in the back of my mind for later questioning, if I was to ever see her again.
"Master Malfoy is in the sunroom. Would you like me to show you Miss?" she squeaked, still in an obedient stance. I smiled.
"No that's fine Mipsy, I'm sure I'll find it on my own. And please, do call me Hermione."
She bowed again without offering a response, and once more, resumed her servile position.
Well.
Guess that's that.
"I hope I see you again Mipsy. It was a pleasure meeting you."
More silence.
Well, that's my cue.
I turn around after offering her yet another goodbye smile, and come face to face with the large double doors. They reminded me of the double doors to the Great Hall at Hogwarts; not as big or as tall or as old, but there was definitely a resemblance. Smiling as I remember my beloved old school, I take a deep breath, place my hands on the sterling silver handles and open the doors.
What?
This can't be the Malfoy manor.
OOO
Fuck.
Unable to count the minutes without a clock in sight, I decided that I was in fact, very much lost.
In the Malfoy manor.
Just my luck.
Who on earth needs to live somewhere with over a hundred rooms – especially only containing one occupant!? I mean, fine. I would understand if it were a house full of an entire family, or multiple families. But come on. It's just Malfoy. Can't he downsize to somewhere less over-the-top and slightly theatrical?
He's taking the bloody piss.
Well.
At least he's made the place look presentable.
It was stunning. The manor certainly had become a beautiful piece of art. Picturesque paintings and sculptures placed in the most idyllic places, often giving each room an individual character, and an array of striking, exotic florae that seemed to be blossoming right in front of my eyes.
It was certainly different.
The colours. The decorations. The furniture.
It became it.
My hands glide across the cold, smooth walls as I meander round the bends of the extravagant manor, keen to inspect every nook and cranny as if expecting something dark and evil to be hidden. However nothing evil ever came. In fact, the manor was quite the opposite. Wondering around the lonely corridors, I couldn't help but feel impressed. The manor had certainly changed in appearance since the last time I was here – although I was more concerned about my life and world peace than the interior design. The usual dark, grey walls had blossomed into an opaline white masterpiece and manor had prospered after the harsh, stone floors were replaced with rich, mahogany floorboards, creating the perfect and powerful contrast to the old, sinful residence.
I turn yet another corner in this godforsaken place and begin to get irritated. It was just as I was about to scream in frustration, when I heard it: a sharp hiss.
"Shit!"
Scanning the long, and seemingly endless corridor, I attempt to locate the source. Moving past a number of other rooms, I pause outside the slightly ajar door of the room that offered the noise. I peak in.
Well fuck me sideways.
This was no ordinary room. I had never seen anything like this before in my whole life.
This was no ordinary room. The room was oval, accommodating a number of plush armchairs and a lavish sofa seat, all of which were in a rich plumb colour reminding me of red wine, engulfing the one large chestnut table in the centre of the room. It was obvious that this room had had a great deal of thought and effort put into it, more so than any other room in the manor. The traditional chandeliers I had seen in every room, and even hallway, had been discarded and in its place, were a number of very ordinary soot coloured lanterns floating in the air by magic that were looping round the circular room. The room was also surrounded by a wide variety of colourful and exotic plants placed in each corner with exact precision. Aside from the abundance of greenery in the room, there was one major and unavoidable difference. Where the walls and ceiling would be, they were replaced by mere glass, including the door leading out from the room to the luscious grounds, permitting a full-blown view of the entire Malfoy estate and then some.
Holy shit.
All I was able to do was think about what it must be like to witness the world from this one, single room. Summer would present, as it is now, the tranquillity of each, fresh and dazzlingly clear morning. One would see the flowers blossoming: each petal and bud, and the grass growing strand by strand in the spring. Similarly, the leaves of the tall, old oak trees rooted in the endless gardens of the manor would begin to change colour in autumn as each individual leaf begins its descent to the ground. However, I don't think anything would be as beautiful as being in this room come winter. I have a feeling that winter is when this room becomes otherworldly. When the sky lightens to an icy colour, the white grounds turn into a dazzling opaline white and each window emits the crispness from outside as it becomes covered in glittering frost.
It must be magical.
Even the Hogwarts Herbology greenhouses were no match for this room.
It was perfect.
It was peaceful.
It was a place where one could come to forget their worries.
Forget their problems.
Forget who they are.
Hm.
Must be nice.
It was the sound of class chinking that nudged me out of my thoughts. That's when I saw him.
Draco Malfoy.
Sitting, one leg crossed over the other, with a half full glass of whisky in his hand and the other running through his loose, messy hair, Draco Malfoy was a sight for sore eyes.
Literally, as my eyes were both sore and it was an unexpected sight to behold.
Dressed in what he would call "casual clothes", as it wasn't his traditional suit and tie, was a pair of very plain, moss green chinos and a simple grey t-shirt that hugged his biceps nicely.
Well.
At least someone got a change of clothes after last night.
It's just typically not me.
And now I am literally doing the walk of shame, minus the general activities that come with it, but still very much shameful and embarrassed.
There's no winning for me is there?
I give him the one over, my eyes examining him, up and down, until I subconsciously begin to think back to what Mipsy said: about how he had been up all night. I thought she had been over exaggerating. Oh how wrong I was. He looked tired. So very tired. His face wore a blank, lost expression. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes listlessly stared at an undefined point above the table. He made no movements at all, aside from his hands moving slightly, as though fumbling with something that wasn't there. But even with large purple bags under his eyes, messy, un-brushed platinum blonde hair and far too pale skin, he still managed to look effortlessly beautiful.
"You really haven't had any sleep have you…" I whisper, more to myself than Malfoy whilst taking in his appearance. Apparently my whispering wasn't the best, as his head snapped round and his silver eyes met mine. He says nothing when he notices me, instead gesturing for me to take a seat, one eyebrow twitching, lips quirking in a small smile of satisfaction as if he's been expecting me.
Well duh.
The "brightest witch of her age" my arse.
I make my way slowly towards the table where he was sitting. Pulling out the heavy chair, I nervously glance around, feeling awkward about the situation at hand. Upon sitting, I notice a swallow lifts his Adam's apple, and I swallow in turn, averting my eyes up to his lips instead. His lips had gone soft and moist and pink. I lick my own uncomfortably and raises my eyes to his, glad to see his eyes had erased the lifelessness in them, reminding her of his last years at Hogwarts. In return, his grey depths eyes were now flickered with humanity: emotion and on occurrences, light-heartedness. However, no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible for me to ignore and neglect the dark circles underneath his eyes, as well as his general health.
I frown.
"You look tired, Draco," I intone, re-scanning his face.
"Your skin, it's so pale. And your hair, it's always so..." I pause, noticing how his eyes have widened a fraction, but I can't tell with what emotion.
Surprise?
"Your mother must worry," I continue, "I know some complexion spells..."
"No," he says, sitting up straight. The muscles in her face jump with concealed wariness. Though incredibly tense at the atmosphere presented, I find myself incapable of controlling my big mouth.
"No, you don't want me to perform any spells? Or no, your mother doesn't worry?"
Brows knitted, Malfoy stands.
Fuck.
Me and my bloody mouth.
My breath is shallow, I grip the armrests each side of the chair in uneasiness and feeling I had just overstepped a boundary, as Malfoy gracefully walks over to the glass door leading out onto the manor grounds.
"No Granger, I do not wish for you to "treat" my current appearance. I have no intention of making myself up and pretending to be someone that I am not. If I look tired, then yes. I am, in fact, tired. I'm only human. I do not need a potion or a spell for that. I would rather look normal. And if that means I look unpleasant and flawed rather than fake, shallow and quite simply: pathetic, then so be it" he says calmly. My eyes widen by a fraction, startled by his monologue.
Who would have thought, Draco Malfoy not giving a flying fuck about appearances?
Never thought I would live to see the day.
I can't help but smile, both because of the hilarity of his statement and because I can't help it. I hang my smiling head, facing into the palm of my hands currently lying in my lap as he continues.
"And no. My mother is not worried about my wellbeing or my health. You see I am a grown man Granger. I am not some adolescent young boy unable to take care of himself."
I sink into the seat embarrassed as he gently opens the glass doors, allowing a crisp and gentle breeze to occupy the room. I see him close his eyes, almost relaxing and marvelling in the summer gust, before it disappeared and he became very still as if the seconds before had never happened. I try to stretch my lips into a forced smile as an attempt to drain the thick atmosphere coveting the room. When that fails, I try to laugh but end up choking on it.
"Oh."
"So I guess it's a "No" to both Granger" he finishes calmly, turning his attention from the outside and onto my now blushing face.
"I'm sorry, it just came out. I can't help it sometimes – "
I was abruptly cut of by a surprisingly soft and light sound. A laugh that sounded so playful and joyous but conjointly held a heaviness of which I expected was due to his lack of laughter to begin with.
"Not to be rude Granger, but it's not the first time you've let that gigantic mouth of yours run riot without thinking first. You cause all sorts of trouble with it."
What!
My mouth hangs open.
Well there goes the tension.
"Granger, what did I tell you about closing your mouth? I know I'm amazing and I can tell you're already head over heels in love with me. Can't really blame you, I mean who isn't? Some women just can't refuse my good looks, my style, my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift."
"Oh bloody hell…" I bury my head in my hands trying to convince myself I was not here to witness this.
"Come on" he says jokingly, taking one of my hands covering my face softly into his own and pulling me gently upwards. A startled me couldn't really think of anything as he was leading me out of the beautiful room and into the corridor. He let go of my hand, it falling limbless at my sides as if paralyzed by shock, as he opened another set of heavy looking doors leading into an even bigger room. Gesturing me to enter first in his usual mannerly way, I noticed it was not just the decoration that had changed in the manor over the year.
"Yeah, it's a bit different than the last time you saw it" he says quietly, not wanting to bring up that horrible night too much. He quickly changes the subject with ease and continues.
"I never did like the layout of the manor than much to be honest, but it's home I guess and it is perfect for business as I'm able to accommodate my clients: international or not."
"I thought you loved the manor. You always boasted about it when we were at school."
"That was just me being a typical teenage prick. The truth is, I hated coming home for the holidays. That's why I stayed for as long as I could before father summoned me home. It was a very cold, heartless place to grow up."
"No, really?" I add, sarcasm dripping from my voice. He turns to look down at me, before smiling and shaking his head.
"I'm glad you never changed Granger" he responds walking away from me and into the centre of the room.
Have I changed since we first met?
I'm still the Gryffindor bookworm.
Still hot-tempered and stubborn as hell.
Still easily irritated by the man standing in front of me.
Still the same set of friends: Harry, Ginny.
Still rejected any form of emotional connection with the opposite gender and often same-gendered too.
Still the girl who lost her mother.
The only difference I guess would be losing Ron, which only Malfoy knew about, and my therapy sessions with Evelyn.
Only Ginny knew about them, and she didn't even know the real reason for them. I told her I was attending therapy session because of the war: how it had affected me.
Not the truth.
No one knew about that.
So… have I changed?
No.
I guess not.
Not really.
Well… that's depressing.
Slowly following his lead into the room, I take in my surroundings. The former dining room was now an open kitchen leading out into a still extravagant dining room. The kitchen area occupied the left hand side of the room: multiple, expensive looking stoves and cabinets dead in the centre that were scattered with equipment and utensils, behind which were more cabinets and draws.
It was like an island.
The right side of the room was the less chaotic area that provided a wide, wooden table with food galore already set out and ready to be eaten.
"You like wood don't you?"
Pulling out a chair for me he pauses and snickers loudly at the obvious innuendo in the question.
"Go ahead, insult me like you always do." I retort, placing my tired arse in the chair he pulled out, half expecting him to jerk it away seconds before I sit. He doesn't. He just laughs.
"Too easy. When you least expect it…" he smirks at me before moving away to take his seat beside mine.
"Help yourself. You look like you could use some food to absorb all the alcohol you drank last night," he states casually grinning, already helping himself to some of the food.
Gazing over the endless amounts of food placed on the table, my stomach growls hungrily. I decide upon a fresh croissant, similarly to Malfoy, a few eggs, bacon, some melon, a bagel and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Delicious.
I don't remember the last time I had anything other than a bowl of cereal.
Upon digging into the lovely, fresh food Mipsy had conjured up for us both as promised, I glance over to Malfoy who looks remarkably grumpy.
Jesus.
He was fine a minute ago.
"What's got your wand in a knot Malfoy?"
"Nothing, I'm fine" he responds, attempting a small chuckle that I could see straight though.
Must have his period.
"Well you're obviously not. Something's wrong. What could possibly have made you be in this foul a mood, it's only ten o'clock?!" I reply argumentatively, rolling my eyes in the process.
"I'm just not a morning person, especially at breakfast. That's all."
So…
Draco Malfoy hated breakfast.
What the fuck.
"Why on earth do you not like breakfast? What did it ever do to you?" I ask incredibly perplexed by his bizarre dislike.
"Well, now you're just putting words in my mouth Granger. I never said I didn't like breakfast."
I huff.
"Fine" I reply through clenched teeth, clearly exasperated at his difficultness.
"Then what exactly is the problem Malfoy?"
"Well," he begins, offering a dazzling, white smile which displays his strong jaw embedded with dark blonde stubble and bright eyes.
"Like I said. It's not that I don't like breakfast. It's that I hate it" he replies, shrugging simply as if it were the most understandable and casual thing in the world. My face just remains scrunched up in a confused state; my lips lifted up at each side showing my bunny teeth, one eyebrow lifted, nose wrinkled up and my eyes like slits.
"Care to elaborate?"
He carefully places his knife down on the blue napkin after carefully buttering his croissant.
"It's just one of those times where everything that could possibly ever annoy me proceeds to do so." He shrugs again tearing a piece of his croissant into his hand before cleanly popping it in his mouth.
"So I annoy you then? You know I can just leave –"
"God Granger, keep going and you'll be practically running out of here faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo."
I quickly shut my mouth and purse my lips, clicking my teeth together sharply in the process, not wanting to say that's exactly what I wanted to do. As I wait for a further explanation that I know he will give, he begins chewing neatly as his once permanent frown overtakes his face as if trying to find a way of expressing his incoming thoughts. Finally, as he finishes chewing and swallows his mouthful of food, he explains:
"Morning, for one, does not suit me; despite an early rise being a requirement for my job. I know I will sound like a complete tosser when I say this but, I'm not used to looking anything less than perfect, and more often or not I usually ended up with my head nearly submerged in my cereal trying to hide my "morning face", as I call it."
Oh dear god.
"And that was when I was living here with mother and father. My hatred of breakfast during our Hogwarts years was not improved by the fact that, somehow, the seating arrangements had fallen into a routine which resulted in me being sat next to one Pansy Parkinson, who never failed to be irritatingly chipper every single goddamn morning. I hate people who are that energetic at such ungodly hours. It gives me headaches. Well, headaches that added to the headaches I usually already had, consequence of staying up very late and/or drinking endless amounts of firewhiskey with my "best buddy" Blaise, who always seemed to stay annoyingly sober and hangover-free. He often liked to rub this in my face. So now, I tend to avoid breakfast altogether and just go straight to lunch, its much more friendlier."
My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. I notice his scarce plate, being occupied only by a half eaten croissant and a large, green apple.
"Well," I say nonchalantly,
"Guess that explains why you were always such an arsehole then."
Hearing this, Malfoy bursts out laughing which turned into full-blown hysterics, before launching into another story and casual small talk, me not really listening but just vaguely aware of his full lips moving in the distance. I smile slightly, thinking about our past and how he was never as relaxed as he was in the moment, right now. I guess he had his father and his upbringing to blame for that. But the more I looked at him, smiling and talking to me as an equal and daresay a friend, the more I began to feel slightly and shamefully attracted to him.
If I were being honest with myself, my singular attraction to Malfoy began back at Hogwarts the first time I saw him, looking anything but the sleek-haired, immaculately dressed prat I'd come to loathe.
It was after Gryffindor's dramatic win over Slytherin— Harry's triumph over new Seeker Draco in our second year, when I'd caught sight of a bedraggled, cowed Malfoy being addressed by his stern father. I had raked over the scene with the faint interest of someone witnessing a rare but distasteful show of animalistic behaviour. Some endangered spider sucking the juices from its prey, wrapping and enfolding it in its intricate web: that was the essence of Lucius Malfoy.
Ron had tugged at my elbow then, anxious to join Harry in the hospital wing after the rogue Bludger and Lockhart incident when I'd spotted it.
A streak of dirt on Malfoy's cheek.
I had swallowed, transfixed and helpless to keep from staring. To look at Ron, to look anywhere else but at the brown smudge marring the pink-tinged, miraculously clear complexion of the spiteful boy who'd first called me dirty: a Mudblood.
In my staring, I'd noticed that his hair was mussed, strands hanging over his forehead, spiking in back, flopping to the right in a tangled sheaf up top as opposed to his shining, slicked back do whilst at school.
"Tosser," I'd heard Ron say.
At the time I had nodded dumbly and taken the opportunity to trail my eyes over Malfoy's form. His bedraggled, dusty Quidditch robes, a tear at the cuff of one sleeve, more dirt visible on his knees.
My stomach had fluttered as if a bunch of fairies had flown inside it. They swarmed up, my heart thumping crazily, jostled.
Then they'd swooped lower, and I felt a recently familiar tingling low in my belly.
Which is when I'd taken off for the castle, Ron hurrying to catch me up.
Thinking back, years later and sitting beside the same boy – nay, man, I wished I had acted differently, knowing what I do now. I would have taken that particular opportunity, one where I was actually alone with Ron, to kick him swiftly in the balls, before performing the same act on one Lucius Malfoy.
But then again, reckless violence, assault and battery may have gotten me expelled.
So I guess it was good thing I didn't.
Unfortunately.
"Granger?"
I snap back to reality and away from my bombarding thoughts, discovering a curious looking Malfoy staring at me, eyebrows raised in such a Malfoy way.
"You alright? You were gone for a really long time" he iterates as he brings the brim of the crystal glass up to his lips and takes a large sip of the sparkling water within, not once breaking eye contact.
What am I doing?
Sitting in the Malfoy manor having an ordinarily polite breakfast with Malfoy.
And then I feel it begin again. The feeling I always get when I begin to get close to someone. And I know what happens next. I recline. I become so un-relatable to any other human being and so detached from the world and any form of emotions.
I was a shell of the young girl I used to be.
And I hated it.
But it wouldn't stop.
I pull the blue napkin from the lap and place it beside my half empty plate and begin the ascend from my chair, Malfoy just looking at me the whole time quizzically.
"Wha—"
"Malfoy, I appreciate your hospitality but I really must be going. I have things to do and it's already…" scanning the room before my eyes fall onto a sizeable clock in the corner to the room.
"Oh my god! It's almost midday! How has that happened!?"
"Well you know what they say: time flies when your having fun."
I turn round to scowl at him, only to find he had vanished. A sudden movement of a chair caused me to jump. In a flash he was behind me pulling my chair out further, obviously knowing that there was no changing my mind about my sudden desire to leave and not wanting to push his luck knowing how hot-tempered I am.
He probably wants me to leave anyway. He is after all, a very busy man.
This was probably just as awkward for him as it was for me.
Yeah. That's it.
Winking, he gestures to the large doors again as I march in front, determined to get out of this place before I become even more perplexed and disorderly. He stands a few feet behind me as I stomp briskly in front not wanting to be too close to him. It was only when I was halfway down the corridor when I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I slow my pace to an almost stop when a strong arm snakes its way round my waist, pulling me forward in return as its owner shows no interest of slowing down. Moving in silence round the corridors, we come into a room I finally recognized, even with a few minor decorative changes. It was undoubtedly the foyer. Gliding diagonally through the room, we draw right up in front of the grand fireplace when he finally speaks.
"Granger."
I turn my head slowly towards him, as he slips his arm out from my waist to face me properly. His is wearing a look of uncertainty, almost looking slightly uncomfortable.
Was he nervous?
"Yes Malfoy?"
His lips part slightly, only to quickly close back to their original position. After another few seconds he takes a silent, deep breath, opens his lips again and begins to speak.
"I just wondered if perhaps, we could let bygones be bygones. Again. I don't know why but…well... I enjoy talking to you for some strange reason. I find it easy to just be myself around you, which is nice. I haven't had that in a really long time."
He remains still, a passive expression determined not to show any emotion he was feeling as he looks directly at me, hardly ever blinking waiting for my answer through the pregnant pause.
"I know what you mean" I sigh in defeat. It was no use fooling myself. He was the first person I could actually have a decent, intellectual conversation with that doesn't end up revolving around gossip or Quiddich. It was a nice change.
"Okay, fine. We can try. But I swear to god Malfoy, if we cant be civil to each other then we might as well just get some cats and call it quits. Because I can only take your insufferable nature so much!"
"Oh well, your screwed."
I grimace, burrowing my eyebrows and looking at him. The uncertainty in his face had now vanished as the Malfoy smirk firmly set itself against his jaw and cheeks reminding her of the young boy she had grown up with and knew well.
"Well as much as I enjoy the shy, timid and melancholy Hermione Granger, I think I rather prefer the fiery, noble, argumentative bookworm to be honest. So when she's back, tell her to feel free to drop by the manor or the office and give me a piece of her mind."
I snort.
"And what on earth makes you think that she would agree to seeing your pompous face anymore than she already has to?"
"True."
The corners of his mouth twitch up into a sly smirk and he moves closer to me so he is speaking directly into my ear.
"Then I guess I'll just have to try harder, wont I?"
I push him back irritably and enter the fireplace but he merely laughs it off, with a smile on his face.
"Look, I really need to get back. I've got prior arrangements and my head really hurts"
"That's your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity."
That fucker!
Too confined in the fireplace to lunge out at him and give him a blocking, I decide to do the next best thing.
I kick him swiftly in the shins before grabbing the dark soot-like substance in my hands and throwing him a bemused look.
"Damn, you're strong for a little thing. But at least it wasn't a punch in the nose again, although I'm sure it's not for lack of trying."
"Thanks for nothing, arse face!"
"See you later Ganger" he calls out, laughing amusedly as I disappear from his view throwing the dark powder down roughly seconds before I arrive bombastically into the fireplace of my own home.
Thank baby Jesus!
Home at last.
OOO
The next few hours flew by at such a startling speed, before I knew it Harry and Ginny had come, eaten, drank, laughed and left into the darkness of the summer night. It was as if everything was a blur. Still shaken from earlier in the day, I was finding it difficult and almost exhausting to even try to be social. The last thing I wanted was to have a people over, but considering I promised my two best friends, I sucked it up and dreaded every minute. It wasn't the people I dreaded. In fact, it was nice just to see them both, never mind having to engage in conversation with them. Luckily though, they both had an uncanny ability to keep a conversation flowing like I never could, and thus were kept entertained (mostly by themselves) for the night. While I smiled and laughed to keep up appearances and answered any of their questions simply, I remained closed and distant. Because, from the time I had eventually gotten home, to my current position of lying in my messy bed, I couldn't shake one particular thought.
Replaying the events earlier and Malfoy manor had consumed my thoughts for the entirety of the day so it had seemed. And whilst Harry and Ginny merely blamed my antisocial behaviour on my lack of sleep and hung-over nature, I was absentmindedly thinking about Malfoy.
But it wasn't just that.
I was going over everything and anything, analysing it with the utmost precision when I came to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy in fact, had been kind.
Something I never thought I would see in my lifetime.
But there was another thing altogether that I couldn't get my head around.
One thing that I was really irked about.
And it was all I was thinking about.
It wasn't the fact that I had stayed the night at Draco Malfoy's manor.
Wasn't that we had had a decent, polite and friendly conversation.
It wasn't that we decided to attempt and make an effort into being something close to "friends."
No.
It was that he had, very uncharacteristically, held me tightly in his arms the night before.
And I didn't even remember it.
Shit.
