A/N: Another long chapter. I'm kind of on a role here! This chapter is all about getting closer and more comfortable. Things in real life haven't been this way for me. They're kind of stagnating and I feel like I'm trying to break through a barrier. I think this urge may have influenced this chapter a little bit.
Be sure to let me know what you think!
A special thank you to my reviewers: Irezei, lita rock LbC, I love music, HarryPGinnyW4eva, and kitcatscratch.
CHAPTER TEN: THE BUILD
"That man, over there," I gestured subtly.
She tried to look up discreetly and utterly failed. "Where?"
"The one whose wig looks like it's been hacked off a manticore's arse," I whispered.
She snickered, drawing attention to us. I shoved her discreetly under the table and thrilled at the feel of her skin against mine. It was entirely innocent, but my heart beat wildly anyway. She smiled at me mischievously. I hadn't had a smile like that from her before. I cleared my throat.
"I heard him say that they're going ahead with building barriers around the pureblood encampments yesterday at the dinner lines."
Her smile dimmed marginally and I physically ached at the loss of it. It was absolutely bloody preposterous to feel that way, yet there I was, longing at the sight of her face as if I were an idiotic addict. Which I really wasn't, I assure you. Not at that point, anyway.
"Who is that?" she asked after a moment. "I can't seem to make out a name tag."
"You need glasses, Granger," I said with a snicker. She shoved me this time and I wondered when she would snap at me and fire me – send me to an Express train back to England and to Azkaban despite all her good intentions and promises. I stilled a shudder that threatened to pass through me at that simple push of her shoulder against mine. It was innocent and playful, as if he were friends. Instead, I stared at the man in question, tying to read his name. "No, Granger, you're right. His flab his covering his name tag."
And there was that smile again, making me burn under my collar and around the ears.
I wasn't sure exactly how I had found myself here, next to Granger again. Davies had managed to snag the seat to her left and was sneakily shooting me dirty looks over Granger's tiny head – as if his situation was my fault and not entirely Granger's whims. I didn't blame him, really. I had been given, for all intents and purposes, his seat. If that wasn't bad enough… I could tell that he fancied her. I'd figured it out last night at dinner when she'd ditched him to come sit with my lonesome self, probably out of pity.
/
"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, as was becoming her custom greeting to me as of late whenever food was involved.
I couldn't say no, obviously, especially considering her hopeful smile. Though, I should've. I spied Davies glaring at us behind her back and the gigantic stack of papers that she set down next to me with a dramatic thud.
"Sure, Granger. Go ahead," I said with a sigh.
"You did rather well today, Malfoy," she said, probably purposely ignoring the defeat in my voice. I gave up any thoughts of escape, choosing instead to stare at her. "I don't think any of us would've noticed those loop holes they were proposing in their legislation until it would've been too late to do anything about it."
I flushed with embarrassment and a little bit of pleasure. What? Don't judge me. You would blush too if someone like Hermione freaking Granger praised you so freely and highly.
"Thanks, I guess," I muttered. She smiled so widely at me accepting her praise that I had to look away from the sight. It was too forceful. "What's all this?"
"Oh!" she said, as if she was glad that I'd even bothered to ask – like she wouldn't have told me what it was anyway. The woman couldn't keep anything to herself if she tried. "This is all of my research. Would you like to see it? I've only spent the last six months compiling it. It's got all to do with our strategy for the conference tomorrow."
I stared at her for a second, her perfectly even face, and went completely blank. I couldn't have stopped what came out of my mouth then, even if I had tried incredibly hard. But I found that I didn't want to. I just wanted to spew my mind to this incredibly presumptuous witch.
"Honestly? No, Granger."
Her mouth fell open in surprise as I am sure the shock that I'd openly refused her was mirrored plainly on my face. I had broken my one rule of survival just at the sight of her face. Her presence had made me throw away everything I had worked for so desperately these past few years. I waited in that moment for her to walk away, for her to be offended at my refusal, for something dramatic to happen. Or maybe I fully expected her to just slap me across the face like she should have.
But none of that happened.
She cocked her head and stared at me curiously, as if analyzing my reaction – as if putting together everything she knew about me in our entire history together to figure out something monumentally important. As if I were really worthy of such deep consideration.
"Are you afraid of me, Malfoy?" she asked, an amused edge to her voice – like she really couldn't fathom such a thing.
"Yes," I said plainly, without hesitation.
That threw her off, as if she wasn't expecting such an honest answer.
"Well… why?" she asked, perplexed.
I raised a brow. "Why? You have a fully functional wand and I don't. You're a Ministry official that can send me to Azkaban within a blink of an eye. I'm an ex-Death Eater. I've got no power here. I'm at your mercy, Granger, and you're asking why I'm afraid of you?"
She blushed, appropriately embarrassed when the truth of the world was laid out for her just then. She considered me before her and it was all I could do not to meet that stare. But even my quick glances revealed the pretty stain of pink on her cheeks. I refused to feel afraid, even though all that I had said was true. She needed a big dose of reality in her overly idealistic life. Risking prison was something I was willing to do if Granger just got it.
After a moment, she sighed. "You know, Malfoy, I get that we had a tough past and that I never really liked you when we were children, but I'd never send you to Azkaban. I wouldn't do that to anyone! You don't deserve that… The war, it wasn't your fault. None of it was. You had to do what you did to survive and I'm not going to punish you for it."
I sighed. Poor idealistic Granger. Though she was being extremely honest and even though I believed her a hundred percent – Granger probably wasn't going to send me to Azkaban – she still didn't get it and I couldn't make her. It wasn't the time or place for such things.
"There's no guarantee, Granger," I persisted, just because it looked as if she needed a response from me. And I was nothing if not accommodating. I had to be, especially to her of all people.
She looked at me then, intensely, biting her lower lip in concentration. It shocked me that I recognized this expression, remembered it from seven years of being around her in Hogwarts and beyond. It was the same expression she'd sported in the library when trying to decipher a particularly difficult rune. It was the same expression she'd sported in class, before shooting up her little hand to answer question after question. It was the same expression she'd worn before she'd pretended to burst into tears in front of Umbridge in her office.
"I can give you the guarantee, Malfoy," she said after a while, slowly. "If you stop acting like a meek little mouse and remind me of the prick you were back in school."
I just stared at her, maybe a little blankly. She shifted through her ridiculous stack of research and found a spare bit of parchment and a quill. She scribbled upon it for a moment before handing it to me with a flourish. Looking upon it, I wasn't the least bit surprised at how neat and tiny her writing was – just like her.
I, Hermione Granger, hereby declare that I shall not wrongly accuse Draco Malfoy of any crime. Furthermore, I assert that I shall not recommend Draco Malfoy be sentenced to Azkaban without a free and fair trial.
Signed,
Hermione Jean Granger
My breath had left my body and there was an obvious tremor in my hands. She must have seen the desperate gratitude in my expression for she patted my shoulder and gripped it when I did not loosen my posture. A good few minutes passed this way before I gasped, breaking the silence.
"Wait Granger," I said seriously.
"What?" she asked, wide eyed.
"Did you just call me a mouse?"
And then she laughed her pretty laugh.
/
Just like that, with that tiny piece of paper, my inconsequential life was transformed into one of utter brilliance. It happened over the space of minutes and developed overnight as I slept in my all too comfortable bed in that really extravagant Bulgarian hotel. What was I to know that accepting Granger's request to come here would mean changing everything in my life so fundamentally that the very thought of going back to that sick, boring tedium was unbearable?
She smiled at me to encourage me. She said it was because no one should be afraid to be who they were, even if it meant that I had to be a prat. She was joking, of course, at least I hoped she was. I don't think she thought I was a prat – not anymore. She just wanted me to be unafraid to speak. It was just what she stood for.
She wanted everyone to be free.
She wanted me to be free. Not because she owed me any obligation or cared about me specifically. It was because in her mind, everyone deserved to be free. Even though I had grown up to be opposite her in everything imaginable, she wanted me to stand up and accept it proudly rather than stamp it out of me like the Ministries of Magic all over Europe.
It was this encouragement, it was that smile and her assurance in both words and that little bloody piece of paper, that made me believe that she was genuine. She put her money where her mouth is. She really was here to make a difference. That maybe, just maybe, she had just not seen the real brutality in her own country because she had been too busy fixing the brutality elsewhere.
It gave me a little inkling of hope that was beyond just me, beyond caring for myself, beyond anything but her. I had this hope that she would change things because she was truly incorruptible. She would always do what was right and not what was "necessary" for the greater good.
I shan't lie. After she bestowed me with that golden ticket, that pardon that forgave all my sins and more, I felt dangerously close to tears. I tried my best to banter with her, like she so obviously wanted, but I just couldn't. I felt too choked with the emotions I hadn't bothered feeling in years. It clogged every inch of my soul and made my eyes water every so often.
But she was patient and she endured my long silences. Maybe she thought I was touched in the head. Most likely she knew that I was a work in progress, a project that she was going to have to coax. It was empathy and it was coming from the person I'd have least expected it from. I don't remember anything we said to each other after that, it really is just all a blur. All I remember is her patient smile and Roger Davies glaring at the both of us behind her back.
He was angry that this perfect person was giving the likes of me an undeserving second chance. But Granger told me that night that everyone deserved a second chance. It was obviously a motto she lived by. She was willingly sitting next to me after all.
And I basked in her forgiveness.
It stewed overnight, this blinding faith and the budding hope of change. I felt like something of my past self. It was a slow build. In truth I recognized that it had been building since the first time I'd seen her back in Britain. She was a force of change and I couldn't help but change with her. In the space of a few hours, I was a man again and I reveled in it.
The upwards climb only grew each time she didn't flinch away from me, with every look she gave me that wasn't filled with disgust or revulsion. I took strength and encouragement from all of it, from the slender grace of her shoulders that still managed to hold themselves up proud and straight, and the perfect curve of her mouth that she shone at me whenever she noticed I just needed it.
You don't understand. You can't understand. I can't possibly explain to you what it was like, how my skin burned every time she pulled me up from the abyss that me and my kind had fallen into. She was everything to me from that moment on and she didn't even know it, she was that oblivious. She couldn't have known and you just won't understand.
She took the broken pieces of my psyche and put them all back together with pieces of spell-o-tape and a few reparos.
How can you understand what it's like to be unmade and remade again? How can you?
I grew with her. When she smiled at me at breakfast the next day, I smiled back even wider. It startled her, my genuine acceptance of her – she obviously still remembered who I was and what I'd done, so me taking that second chance so openly was surprising to her. You couldn't understand, but at that point neither could she. I wasn't her friend. I was just someone she was trying to help. And she had never really expected me to take it.
She helped everyone she ever met, you see. You know this. Everyone knows this.
It meant more to me than even I could fathom. When I touched her shoulder at the breakfast lines and she didn't shy away, as if I wasn't a repulsive miscreant, I shuddered within and wanted to never move my hand away from her ever again. It was disgustingly obsessive. It wasn't as if I loved her or anything. She was just… the dream I always wanted but never knew I even had.
And she seemed emboldened too, by my responses to her attempts to fix me. She made jokes at her own expense and some at mine too. She encouraged me to speak, even though it was my place in life to be a silent servant. She asked for my opinion. You don't understand, she asked for my fucking opinion. She made me sit next to her and expected me to speak as if it actually mattered. As if I actually fucking mattered. Do you hear that? I actually fucking mattered.
You'll have to excuse me. Even now, thinking about the outrageous behavior that probably could've gotten the both of us killed in the environment we were living in, it just gets me carried away. She seemed oblivious about everything she was doing, as if it were just the way we were meant to carry on and I just couldn't care. It was all too new, too fresh, and too different. To hell with all the consequences.
That's not to say that people weren't outraged at what was so obviously going on before their very eyes. They looked down upon me and with confusion at Granger. It was the weirdest thing, the mudblood and the Death Eater. Two polar opposites actually smiling at one another. She, because she was mental, and he because… well, I suppose I was a little bit mental at the attention too.
That second conference that I sat next to her, I remember her laugh. Her laugh directed at me because I was funny and amusing and worthy of it. Everyone stared at us like we were some kind of alien werewolves, but we carried on as if it were a normal thing anyway.
I can't even remember what it was we were supposed to be discussing that day, only that it had something to do with closing of the Wizarding Quarter to purebloods. Granger took perfect notes as she always did in between consulting with me and the rest of her team. She was a force to be reckoned with, but honestly? Everyone already knew that. It was on the mind of everyone there.
"You know they're just spouting bollocks, right?" I whispered to her after a while.
She gave me a sidelong glance and stared at me as if I were ludicrous. "Ob-viously."
It was the best impression of Severus Snape that I'd seen in at least a decade. It made me laugh, something my cough didn't even cover. The speaker stopped just as Granger shoved me, probably to get me to shut the hell up before the lot of us lost our heads. But I could see her wicked grin hidden behind that mask of concentration. She wasn't sorry at all. Everyone was staring at us – at me – Expecting an explanation no doubt.
"Uh… excuse me," I managed to say. Granger hadn't expected me to speak. Her hand came and gripped my thigh under the table as a warning. I was out of turn. I knew it, she knew it, the whole bloody hall of people who hated me knew it. But she had built me up to this point of confidence and I couldn't back down now. It was a test. "Sorry. It's just that, um… your proposal has no merit."
There was a collective gasp. Granger managed to stop all of my blood circulation in my right leg in the space of ten seconds. My own team members stared at me in obvious shock. The Bulgarian Minister of Magic glared at me from across the room. Victor Krum stared at me in appreciation from the same table. It all happened so fast.
"Excuse me?" the speaker gaped.
This was not how diplomacy was done. This was not how it was supposed to go.
"We will be taking questions and comments after the presentation, Mr…" the Bulgarian Minister squinted his eyes to find my nametag. "Malfoy."
And there the glaring began, bore down upon me like a huge tidal wave of disapproval. Everyone knew who I was but no one had any idea what I was doing there or why I'd dare to speak so out of turn. But Granger was there, too, my newfound beacon of hope, and she had her fingernails lodged into my thigh as if it were the only thing anchoring her and her six months of research to our table. I couldn't back down and I definitely couldn't let her down.
"No, that's fine," I said as agreeably as I could – which was really agreeable since I'd had many years of practice doing just that. "It's just that the concept of barriers that exclude the pureblood encampments is a nonsensical proposal."
"Malfoy!" I heard Davies hiss. Granger gripped his thigh, too, under the table. I could see it out of the corner of my eye.
That, more than anything, made me continue.
"Don't they occupy most of your service jobs?" I asked innocently, gathering my bearings and remembering Granger's research. I had fucked up my chances at diplomacy but I could still get the majority of the room to see reason.
Granger's grip loosened.
"Aren't most of your service jobs in the main Wizarding Quarter?" I asked, louder this time.
Granger was quicker than anyone else. She knew my game. She began flipping almost violently through her absolutely ridiculous stack of research while everyone was still getting over the fact that someone had messed up the proceedings.
"Yes, in fact," she said clearly and even more loudly than I had. Her voice reached every ear in the room. "Last year December, the Bulgarian Ministry of Employment Services released their annual report that the Wizarding Quarter's service industry was composed of… 78% of dispossessed purebloods, most of which live just outside of the Wizarding Quarter's proper."
I patted her thigh under the table and we both looked towards the Bulgarian delegation's table. The speaker was still standing, staring at us incredulously, like how dare we? The Bulgarian Minister's eyes were narrowed to slits. But I didn't let the fear deter me. Granger's nudge to continue was all it took.
"How do you propose all these people get to work, sir?" I asked.
There was a murmur in the room. "The fact is," Granger said, loud and clear, "every society depends on its essential services. If every mail man, if every maid and shop worker were kept out of the barriers of the city, our industry would collapse and you would be jeopardizing the very productivity of Bulgaria itself."
They didn't need to listen to insolent old me. It was Hermione Granger speaking and in the end it was Granger that had planted the seed of doubt. Everyone forgot I even existed, despite the fact that I was sitting right next to her in plain sight. Even Davies ignored me, choosing to stare at her as she spoke of how illogical putting barriers around the pureblood sections of the city would be.
Don't get me wrong, it didn't change anything. But it made maybe a dozen of the hundreds of people doubt what we were here for. That maybe someone like Granger had the right idea.
And that's what she was after, wasn't it? It was always what she had aimed for. Changing hearts and minds. The rest would come after.
The rest, inevitably, always comes after.
/
No one paid attention to me at the end of the meeting. Even the Bulgarian delegate chose to glare daggers at Granger instead of me. To this day I feel guilty for feeling relieved at that fact. Better her than me, right? She could take the heat. I just couldn't. None of those people had signed agreements declaring that they wouldn't falsely accuse me of anything. I still had to be careful.
I had had every intention of sneaking out. After all, most of the people had already trickled out, including most of our own team.
As soon as I stood up, Granger put her hand on my arm and stood up with me. Davies, who always seemed to linger around us since last night, zeroed in on that perfect little hand, and narrowed his eyes at it – like it was my fault she was choosing to touch me. Like I had any control over anything this girl ever did. But I suppose it was my fault for letting her, for standing there and taking it like a greedy dog.
But I was also afraid that the line I had crossed might have been one she wasn't willing to bear. After all, I had taken liberties with the freedom she had only so recently bestowed upon me.
"You've got some balls Malfoy," she said. My eyes nearly bugged out and her saying something so crass. My heart pounded wildly, sure that she was going to kick me off the team. "Come on, grab your bags. I'm going to buy you lunch."
"What?" Davies and I said in unison.
She didn't even seem to hear Davies behind her back. Maybe it was because she was so short compared to the rest of us.
"It was really brave what you did, even if it was bloody stupid," she said with a smile. That perfect bloody smile that calmed my heart rate and made it speed up at the same time. "I think when we speak tomorrow, we're going to have the advantage. And I don't think any of us would have dared question that idiot man's speech if you didn't ah…"
"Muck things up?" I offered hopefully.
She laughed. "Indeed."
Davies turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall where the conferences were taking place. I almost cringed at the sight of him, but didn't because Granger was still staring at me, waiting for me to pull myself together.
"So you're not mad?" I asked tentatively. "I could've… you know, gotten us kicked out of here."
She raised a brow at me. "Granted, it was a very risky thing you did to cover up for your inappropriate laughter, but I'm not going to begrudge you an opinion when we've been sitting here for days talking about rights, Malfoy."
I blushed. Her eyebrow moved even further up her forehead. I shrugged in response or who knows, perhaps they might have migrated straight off of her face, and an eyebrow-less Granger would just be too weird to stare at. The image in my mind was disturbing enough to make me crack a sheepish smile, which she mistook for acceptance. I wasn't about to put her right.
"Let's go," she said. "We might as well make the most of the afternoon since Roger's going to insist on being mad for not being invited."
So she had heard him after all.
/
It was an unusually warm day for Bulgaria as we walked along the posh streets of the Wizarding Quarter. Or perhaps it wasn't unusual at all. It was July and the summer sun was shining its heat down upon us. It made everything look brighter, happier, and more certain. It made everything gleam with beauty. But mostly, it lit up Granger's head like a bright halo.
For the first time in my life, looking at her so bright and carefree, I thought she was beautiful. Truly beautiful.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked her. I hadn't meant to, it slipped out of my mouth as if I possessed no filter whatsoever. "I mean…"
"Why am I not scowling at you?" she asked with a smile. "Would you prefer if I did?"
She tried the face on, but it really just looked more adorable than anything. We both laughed and it was surreal. She must have sensed that this was the case, for she didn't say anything more, just continued walking side by side with me as if this were natural. But perhaps for her it was. The silence burned me more than her smiles and there was nothing pleasant about it. I had to know. Beyond everything, this she had to answer for. I could endure everything besides not knowing this.
"But really-"
"Aren't you tired, Draco?" she asked me without even looking my way. My name on her lips was a pleasant curse. Immediately I wanted her to say it again. "I grew up despising you because you were a right sodding prick. You hated me for a multitude of reasons, I imagine. But I didn't fight a war to hold prejudices. You and I, we didn't watch people die just so we could continue these petty hatreds. Do you hate me?"
"What?" I asked startled. "No, of course not, I-"
"That's good," she said, cutting me off. "I don't hate you either. And I promise I won't until you give me a really good reason to."
What was I supposed to say to that? That's good? Great? Sorry for asking? But it wasn't enough for me. I needed to know more. I needed to hear what happened in her mind on a day to day basis, beyond her perfect morals and ideals. Everyone knew what those were, she'd broadcasted them for years. I didn't just want to be one of her good deeds. I wanted…
I wanted to be something more. And I think she knew that.
"Look, Draco…" she began slowly. We had stopped in front of some restaurant or another. "When you saved me that day in the street and ripped up my card, I was curious about you."
She paused, staring at me sheepishly. I reflexively raised a brow. "And…?"
"And so I asked around about you," she blurted out. As if realizing how incriminating such an admission sounded, she raised her hands in defense. "Not like that! I swear, I was just curious. I may have read your Ministry file… and I may have spoken to Neville and Luna's secretaries…"
"I know you spoke to Mr. Greengrass," I said with a sigh. "He threatened to fire me because of you."
She blushed brightly which made me want to laugh. "I know. It's partly why I offered you the job."
"Oh," I said.
"But then you just got weirder and weirder," she said to me in a rush. "You kept doing these strange things. And I couldn't fathom why. I began to think more and more of you and why you are the way you are now. You certainly aren't like… well… how you used to be. So I suppose I may have forced my company upon you more than necessary."
She blushed even brighter at the admission. I smiled awkwardly. "Thanks…I guess."
"Merlin, I sound like a rambling idiot," she whined, pressing her palm against her forehead.
"Only just a little," I said with a real smile. She smacked my arm rather hard before turning around and walking into the shop we'd been standing out of. "Granger, wait! If you really wanted to stalk me, all you had to do was ask!"
She may have elbowed me in the gut and I may have teared up a little at the force of it – but I swear to you, I never let her have the satisfaction of knowing.
/
It took us twice the time to get back to our lodgings than it had taken to wander off. It may have been because we'd eaten like kings and had consumed a gluttonous amount, or perhaps I dragged my feet because I didn't want to be alone again after being in her company constantly. Either way, she seemed to be alright with the fact.
When we did reach the stairs, her face fell.
"What's wrong?" I asked her, wondering if the world might not be ending and she'd just forgotten to tell everyone about it.
"We have to climb these stairs, Malfoy," she said in a hushed whisper. I didn't know whether to burst out into laughter or be miffed that she'd reverted to using my surname again. "I'm so full!"
I did laugh then, poking her. "Would you like me to carry you, then?"
"Imagine what these poor innocent bystanders would say," she said with a snicker. I lifted my arms, in jest of course, but she darted ahead of me, afraid nonetheless.
I didn't chase her. I wasn't that disjointed with my sense of self preservation. If someone caught me chasing after the golden girl of all time, I had no doubt I'd be beaten to a pulp in the streets and dragged to the lowest slum they had in Bulgaria to be disposed of. Anyway, that's what I imagined a just punishment would be. That's how they did it in muggle picture stories, didn't they?
Granger spoke an awful lot about muggle picture stories.
She was standing next to my door, clearly waiting for me. "You're a slug, Malfoy. I even ate more than you."
I shrugged, not knowing how to deal with her playful mood. "Thanks for lunch, Granger."
"You're welcome," she smiled, opening the door next to mine.
"Wait!" I said, startling her. She stared at me expectantly. "Uh… your room is next to mine?"
"Yes…" she said slowly. Trust me, I was aware of exactly how stupid I sounded. I could hear it with my own ears but I just couldn't stop myself. "Why? Is there a problem?"
"Oh, no," I said quickly, my ears burning hot. "I just thought you'd be staying in Krum's room."
"Why on earth would I be staying in Krum's room?" she asked me incredulously. "Hold on, why would Krum stay here? He's got his own manor up in the country side, doesn't he?"
"Yeah I guess," I mumbled, feeling the heat spread into my cheeks. "I just thought…"
"You just thought that I'm dating Krum," she finished, staring at me hard. I may have shaken my head or nodded or shrugged. I think I tried to do all of that at the same time and passed it off as a seizure. "Well I'm not. I wouldn't… wait, you don't believe me."
It wasn't a question so it wasn't like I thought she was expecting an answer. But she stared daggers at me for doubting her (not sure why she was so put off by my assumption anyway) and I had to question myself. Did I not believe her? And if so, why? I suppose I felt that a woman like her would naturally want to be with… well, whatever Krum was. He was rather famous wasn't he? I'm sure she would've gotten over the fact that he couldn't pronounce her name. At least, she would've gotten over it eventually.
"Seriously Malfoy," she said. "I'm not dating anyone and I'm not sleeping with anyone in my room. That would be wholly unprofessional."
"Right…"
"Alright then," she said, rolling her eyes at my disbelief. She slammed the door of her room in my face, leaving me standing rather awkwardly in the hallway.
I shrugged, guessing I'd finally crossed a line with her after all that. Not knowing what to do, I went into my own room, secretly pleased with the idea that she was in fact Krum free. Even though I still had my doubts about the being free of men entirely – for there was still at the very least Davies to consider – at the very least I wouldn't have to deal with the shock of her and Krum doing inappropriate things in public.
So lost in such thinking, I almost jumped when there was a sharp knock on the random door in my room that had opened up to nothing. When I wrenched it open, I saw Granger standing there, holding open what was obviously a door on her side of the wall. It wasn't a door that led to nowhere. It was a door that connected to me Granger's room.
I gulped.
"See?" she said, stepping back. "No one but me in here."
"Um…" I said, nodding. "Sure, yes."
She rolled her eyes again. "I'm going to leave this unlocked, just in case you want to check for yourself at night that I really am alone and safe from random men."
I laughed and she smiled, making to shut her door. I did the same before she shouted for me to wait.
"Why did you rip up my card that day?" she asked, curiosity burning in her eyes.
I sighed, staring at her. I considered making something up, but I realized that she only had ever wanted the complete and utter truth from me.
"I knew you'd be trouble from the moment I set my eyes on you," I said. She frowned as if considering herself trouble was counterintuitive. For me, it wasn't. I knew it was the whole undistorted truth. "And I was right, too, what with you stalking me."
She did laugh then and it was worth it. Her goodnight was sweet and her smile was even sweeter. When I shut the door and got into bed without bothering to even undress, I smiled widely, wondering how I had gotten myself into this brilliant mess and how long such a thing could possibly last.
I slept like a baby that night.
A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed. Please don't forget to drop a line! I always enjoy hearing from all of you.
Here's a snippet from next week's chapter:
Granger had her back to me. She was bent over her opened suitcase, rummaging for something to wear. She had obviously just come out of the shower because her hair was damp and dripping down her back and because she was naked from the waist up.
That is to say, she was standing there with her back to me, wearing nothing but a pair of black knickers.
See you soon!