Chapter 13

A/N: Hello readers! In case you haven't noticed, all is once again well with my writing program. It took me a 40 minute call to Microsoft, and then another one to my local computer people, but I have it back!

Just to avoid confusion, Draco calls Earl a toad, frog, etc, to be insulting. Earl is a lizard.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Also thanks to irianaceleste for betaing!

~Frosty

Hermione was just walking Harry over to the fireplace so he could Floo home when her door burst open, bashing against the wall with a bang. Before she'd even caught a look at his face, she knew her partner was upset, the bang serving as a warning that his temper was foul.

Draco stepped into the room, looking downright murderous. The reason for his displeasure became apparent when he was followed into the room by his mother, wearing a very stern and disapproving expression.

"Granger, Mother would like her coat back." His teeth were clenched so tightly that it was a wonder any words came out at all. A grinding sound seemed more likely, or perhaps a clinking crunch as they shattered under the pressure.

Immediately, Hermione rushed into her room where she had discarded the coat after changing out of her costume. When she'd collapsed to the floor of the arena basement in false hysterics, Hermione had picked up a few unpleasant things from the ground and had intended on getting it professionally cleaned before she returned it. Draco had guaranteed that his mother wouldn't notice it missing for a few extra days while she sent it to be cleaned. Apparently he'd been wrong.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said as she came back into the room with the dirty coat. "I was going to return it as soon as I had it cleaned."

"I've told you, Hermione, it's Narcissa," the blonde woman said. She surveyed what she could see of the fur and seemed to be satisfied that it wasn't ruined. "I'm not angry about the coat. What I am upset about is that Draco has been back in the country for days and didn't see fit to tell his mother." Narcissa's sharp eyes turned back to her son. "You missed a lovely visit with your cousin. I wish you weren't so opposed to meeting the family. They're not as horrible as you seem to think."

Harry snickered from where he was still standing by the fireplace. He knew he should leave, but there was something horribly fascinating about watching one's enemy get torn down a few pegs by his mother.

"Laugh it up, Potter," Malfoy snarled. "You're not going to live to leave the room."

Of course this threat meant that both men suddenly had their wands out and pointing at their school rival. It was always the fighting with those two.

Hermione's day had been stressful. She'd spent much of it on the verge of tears and then a small portion of it actually in tears, near hysterical tears at that. Her nerves were frayed and she just didn't have any patience left to handle what was about to be a duel in her living room.

She thrust the coat into Narcissa's arms, grabbed Malfoy's wand right out of his hand, and then marched the few steps across the room to Harry. Being the survivor that he was, Harry was in the fire and calling out his address before she reached him. He knew when he was fighting a futile and dangerous battle that he'd never win. The shadow of a grim little smile flickered across Hermione's mouth before it disappeared into a scowl.

Suddenly finding herself without a target, Hermione rounded on her partner once more. He wasn't looking too pleased that she'd stolen his wand, but, unlike most people, she'd never been intimidated by his threatening looming, so she didn't let it bother her.

"Hermione?" Narcissa asked as the brunette stared at Malfoy with as much murder in her eyes as he exhibited towards everything.

With a deep breath, Hermione calmed herself, suddenly releasing all of her anger and just looking sad. "We've seen enough violence today, Draco. We don't need any more fighting, especially not in my living room," she said hollowly as she handed back his wand handle first, as was polite.

Draco pocketed it instead of continuing the fight. It wasn't Granger who had angered him anyway; he'd just had so much irritation that he was lashing out at everyone.

"Don't worry about the coat," Narcissa said, her eyes darting between the two younger people with a strange look on her face. "I have a feeling that part of the plan was Draco's idea anyway."

"I'm sorry again about the coat."

"Nonsense, it was getting stuffy in that closet anyway. I'm glad someone got some use out of it."

Draco was getting fed up with the small talk. "Mother, can you get on with the yelling or the guilt-tripping or whatever it is you're here for, because Granger's right; it's been a long day and I could really use some sleep."

"I'm hurt that you didn't tell me you were back, but I understand that you just wanted to spend some uninterrupted time with Hermione here," Narcissa said. "I don't know what you were doing out in the middle of Diagon Alley with that Auror trainee girl when you have Hermione here. You shouldn't be out and about town with other women! What will people think?"

"I don't have Granger! I'm only here because of the bloody lizard! Granger and I aren't dating!"

Rubbing her temples, Hermione leaned against the nearest wall. She really just wanted to go to bed and cry for a while before sleeping. Draco's complaints were only making her feel worse. "I'm really sorry for being rude, Narcissa, but would you mind horribly if I went to bed? I think I'm developing a migraine," Hermione said softly.

The frown that Narcissa had directed towards her son softened as she took in Hermione's sagging stance and pained expression. "Draco, go bring her some tea."

Surprisingly, Draco didn't even consider arguing about waiting on other people, or his partner being below a Malfoy, or something similarly annoying. He just walked out of the room and into the kitchen, presumably to go make the tea.

"You seem to be the only one – besides me, of course - who can really get my boy to behave, and I'm afraid you have your work cut out for you," Narcissa commented. The brunette whipped her head up so fast that she had to clutch at it in an attempt to ease the ache that had worsened at the abrupt movement.

"I don't think you understand..."

"I understand perfectly," the blonde woman said, gathering the fur coat into a tight bundle so that it was easier for her to carry. "Tell Draco to drop in at the Manor before he leaves the country again, or else I'll be very cross with him. I need him to see to my rose garden before they're destroyed."

With that, she was gone and Hermione was left alone with her thoughts, primary among them was wondering what in the world was taking Draco so long to make a simple cup of tea. He was probably just hiding in the kitchen until his mother left. This was disappointing, since Hermione could really use some tea.

When Hermione pushed the door open and entered the kitchen, she found that Malfoy and Earl seemed to be having some sort of staring contest. The lizard was perched on top of the table to bring him closer to Malfoy's eye-level, but he still had to crane his neck in order to see the tall blond, who was towering over the small reptile in the way he usually loomed during an argument.

"You've been noticeably absent for the past few hours," Hermione said to the lizard. She wasn't going to ask what it was they'd been fighting over, mostly because she was relatively certain that she didn't want to know.

Earl shifted his legs in the lizard approximation of a shrug. "There was a butterfly sniffling around the window; I was hiding under your bed."

"Well then." There wasn't much that could be said to that – nothing polite anyway. It was tempting to mention how quiet it would be if there was always a butterfly lurking outside the windows, but Hermione was too polite to give in to the desire.

With a delighted little smile, Hermione discovered that Draco had indeed set out to make tea, going as far as to have the water boiled and tea bags waiting in a pair of mugs on the counter. It seemed that Earl had distracted him just as he'd been on the verge of pouring. Shame really, since Hermione now had to wait while it steeped.

"Your mother's gone home." Hermione settled at the table with her mug in front of her. She'd placed the other one in front of Draco on her way past him. "You have to pay her a visit before you leave the country again."

Draco grunted, but it wasn't clear whether the sound was in thanks for the tea or an acknowledgement that he understood about his mother.

They were silent as their tea steeped.

Sipping at her steaming mug, Hermione glanced at her companions over the rim of the cup. Both of them were staring at her with something other than idle interest in their eyes – how she'd come to read Earl's expressions, she wasn't sure, but there it was.

"So, Earl, are you ever going to explain the whole butterfly thing?" she asked, hoping to distract them from their staring. There was a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her that she'd been the topic of their earlier argument, and she was a tad worried that they were going to drag her into it if she didn't distract them.

Earl was actually forthcoming with an answer for once – sort of. "Do you have any idea how angry your wife gets if you stay out decades after you said you'd be home? At this point, I'd rather stay away than endure the screeching I have waiting for me." He leaned his head down to rest on his crossed front legs. "Though I kind of miss her sometimes..."

"The butterfly you're hiding from is your wife?" Draco asked flatly. "And here you are trying to give me love advice?"

In a large gulp, Hermione finished off her tea and then set the empty mug in the sink. She blinked away tears, a reaction to her poor, scalded tongue, and headed out of the room. "I'm going to bed. If you two are going to have another row, do me a favour and cast some silencing spells."

Apparently her efforts to avoid thinking about the suffering magical creatures were in vain. It had been a silly endeavour anyway, what with her overdeveloped conscience and persistent morals.

Hermione awoke for the second time from yet another horrible nightmare and stared gloomily at the glowing red numbers of her clock. It was just after three in the morning, she was exhausted, pissed off, and the memory of what had been happening to those helpless creatures was eating away at her. Sometimes the job she loved so much had some major shortcomings.

When she left her room to get a glass of water to relieve the sour, sticky sensation on her tongue, she found that Draco was awake. His eyes were shining at her from the sofa despite the near complete darkness of the room.

"Can't sleep?" she asked quietly.

"Piss off."

Shrugging, Hermione continued past him to the kitchen. He was probably upset because she'd left him to deal with Earl on his own. Well, sod him! It was his own fault that he was picking random fights with the infuriating lizard. Draco was her partner, but she was only required to back him up in work-related situations, not shouting matches with reptiles.

Passing back through the living room, this time with her water, Hermione found that the lights were on and Draco was sitting up on the sofa. She recognised this for the invitation it was and perched herself on the opposite end.

"What's bothering you?" There had to be something on his mind if he was practically begging her to talk in the middle of the night – and for Malfoy, this was practically begging.

"She giggled," he said. "Incessantly. I found myself thinking on more than one occasion how much you disapprove of women who are always giggling."

A few sips of water allowed Hermione time to digest this. Her mind was still slow from sleep so she was just making sure that he made no sense before she questioned him on it. No matter which way she bent it, she couldn't figure out his problem. Yes, she thought women who giggled incessantly were irritating, but that had never deterred Draco from an attractive female before. If anything, he enjoyed flustering women to the point where all they could do was giggle helplessly. Hermione had seen him do this around the office when he got too bored and the coffee cart girl had already been reduced to tears.

"I'm not sure what the issue is," she finally admitted.

"I didn't shag her."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Is this one of those male insecurity things where you need a female to reassure you that your penis is adequate?" She must have been more tired that she'd thought, because while she probably would have thought that, it wasn't something she would normally voice.

"I assure you, my penis is more than adequate," Draco snapped. "But that isn't the issue. My problem is that I had no desire to shag her. None at all."

"She sounds like she was annoying. I don't blame you."

"I should have known better than to take this issue to someone with ovaries," Malfoy muttered.

"I just don't see what the problem is!" By this point, Hermione had finished her entire glass of water and set it on the table. She wasn't sure when, but she'd shifted around so that she was facing Malfoy, her crossed knees touching his leg.

"It's love," said Earl from somewhere under the sofa. "Kiss Hermione, it'll prove me right."

"I've told you before, you bloody newt, kissing Granger isn't going to prove anything because there's nothing there."

"I beg to differ."

Hermione sat back and idly watched them go at it, her cheeks slightly warm from the subject matter. She was getting the feeling that this wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. It was no wonder Draco had been so angry in the kitchen earlier.

Hermione started to tune out their bickering. Her earlier tossing and turning had left her exhausted, and the presence of light and company had banished much of the lingering misery from her nightmares.

"I'm sick and tired of a sodding reptile telling me what I feel. You're wrong!"

Half-asleep, Hermione was barely paying attention to the conversation – that is, until Malfoy grabbed her shoulders and kissed her. Naturally, having been completely unprepared for the attack, she froze, not sure what to do with herself.

Draco was persistent though, cupping the back of her neck in his large hand and keeping her in place while he did his best to kiss her senseless. He probably didn't want Earl to say later that his kiss hadn't been through enough to count.

Before she'd sorted out her feelings on this new development, her body had taken over and their tongues were tangled while her hands were twisted in his hair to pull him tighter against her.

"I can really tell that there's no spark there," Earl said. He sounded both amused and thrilled.

Jumping in shock like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar, Draco shoved Hermione away so quickly that she landed on her butt and very nearly bashed her head on the coffee table. Instead of seeing if she was hurt or even noticing that she could have been, he turned to Earl. "There's nothing there, see? Now stop nagging me about kissing her!"

While he was yelling, Hermione stood up and limped off to her room, injured more than just physically. Never before had she entertained thoughts of deeper feelings for the blond arse that was there for a large chunk of every day – physical attraction, sure, but not anything deeper. She had, however, assumed that he'd at least had some respect for her. She'd obviously been wrong.

Just before she closed her bedroom door and put up silencing and locking charms, she heard Earl, voice dripping with disdain, tell Malfoy, "You're an idiot."

Draco looked to his partner for support in his crusade against the evil frog's lies and found that she was no longer there. In fact, he couldn't remember her being there since he pushed her away from him. His eyebrows creased as he retraced the last few minutes. Now that he was thinking about it, he had pushed her to the floor harder than he'd intended. It was just that he'd been so surprised about the severity of his reaction to her, and then hell bent on denying it to the all too smug pest.

Bloody hell, he really was an idiot. Granger must be furious with him.

He briefly flirted with the idea of knocking on her door and asking if she was okay, but she'd probably worked herself into a snit and silenced it, so she wouldn't even know that he had put in the effort. Besides, it was probably best that she thought he'd gotten carried away while proving the lizard wrong and forgotten the identity of the person he'd been orally interacting with instead of the truth; that he had gotten carried away because she was Granger and there was an odd pull between them.

Draco's mind was everywhere on the subject, offering up explanations and excuses for every new piece of evidence that cropped up saying that there may be something between him and his partner. He did care about her more than he did about most people, but his contempt for people in general wasn't exactly a secret. The bloody talking toad was going to be completely unbearable if it was actually right about him and Granger.

Rubbing his suddenly aching head, Draco pushed aside thoughts of Granger. Their partnership was one of the most stable relationships in his life at the moment, and he wasn't going to ruin it by shagging her. He wasn't even going to put further thought into his feelings since they only seemed to bring trouble and headaches.

There was one thing he knew for certain though; he was not going to have a peaceful morning.