Hello guys! This chapter should have been ready several days ago but I had the most awful writer's block :(
(Read as if being shouted ecstatically) OH MY GOD THIS STORY HAS OVER 100 REVIEWS! That's more than all of my other stories combined! O_O
I want to thank my wonderful reviewers: LunarPotion, DracoSly (for several great reviews!), DreamOnDraco, Honoria Granger, dracomalfoyswifey, and Iseult. Thanks you guys for all of your feedback and support :D
Iseult, I can't reply to your review directly so I'll do it here: I'm really glad you're enjoying my story so far. Thanks so much for letting my know what your hopes for future chapters are - they help me to think of what to write next.
I'm sorry to have to do this to you again but as I have a family funeral to go to next week, it may be a while till my next update. I don't know for certain (if I have a spark of inspiration then of course, I'll write something :P) but if I can't put together a decent chapter quickly then it could be a week or two. I'll try not to make you guys wait too long though ;)
Enjoy!
"I'll be back in half an hour," Ginny promised, handing over the plate. "Good morning!" she added brightly, waving to Hermione, who waved back.
"Okay." Draco set down the plate down on the bedside table. "It's only buttered toast. I hope that's alright."
Hermione looked up and nodded. She made no move to take a piece but Draco didn't mind. She'd eat when she was ready.
"What would you like to do today?" he asked jovially. "I've been thinking, and I reckon just sitting in bed can't be doing much to improve your mood."
Her eyes widened and she shook her head violently. "No," she whispered. "No, I don't want to-"
Draco held up his hands and chuckled. "Relax, I'm not here to force you out of bed. I just thought some kind of entertainment might help take your mind off things."
She shrugged, glancing around the room. Draco did the same, looking at all of the shelves until a brightly coloured box caught his eye. "What's that?" he murmured, going over and pulling the box off the shelf. "Monopoly? What's this?"
Hermione looked somewhat surprised. This 'Monopoly' was obviously very commonplace for her. Draco carried the large box over to the bed and set it on her lap.
"Care to explain?" he asked gently. "I've never seen this before. Is it a game of some kind?"
She nodded, lifting the lid and pulling out a square of cardboard, which she unfolded to reveal a large colourful rectangle with lots of squares and words on it. He read some of the words out.
"Mayfair, Trafalgar Square... Those are places, aren't they?" he said excitedly. "I remember them!"
Hermione smiled and, for a moment, Draco couldn't look away. He'd never seen her smile before, not like that. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were a soft pink against bright white teeth. She must have realised he was staring as her cheeks flushed red and she looked away, suddenly embarrassed. He did the same, looking instead at the contents of the box in front of her. Along with the folded up board, there were stacks of multicoloured pieces of paper with numbers printed on them, two things with dots on that his brain automatically identified as dice, two piles of rectangular cards with 'Chance' and 'Community Chest' written on the backs and a packet of silver...things. He wasn't sure about those.
"Will you show me how to play?" Draco asked tentatively, not wanting to push his luck. This was more interaction than he'd expected from her and he'd only been in the room about five minutes.
Hermione froze in the act of picking up the packet of silver objects, her expression suddenly stricken as if she had only just realised what she was doing. He could see the emotions playing havoc across her features and quickly said, "It's alright if you don't want to. I don't mind."
"I...I..." she stammered.
"It's alright," he repeated soothingly. "Would you rather I left you alone for a while?"
She looked up at him, her eyes still fearful, but shook her head. "I-I'll teach you," she said eventually, her voice quiet but steady.
Draco tried not to grin too widely, not wanting to confuse or scare her. Instead he smiled and nodded, reaching out slowly. "Is there a rulebook? Maybe I should read that first..."
Lucy groaned and pressed her forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. She couldn't throw up anymore; there was nothing left to throw up with. "Damn you, infant," she growled through her teeth, pressing a hand to her belly. There wasn't any kind of bump yet, since the nine-weeks-old foetus was probably only the size of a fingernail. Her morning sickness was showing no signs of abating any time soon, unfortunately.
"Lucy? Are you alright, dear?" Molly's concerned voice called through the bathroom door.
"I'm-" Lucy started to say 'I'm fine' but before she could get the words out, her stomach clenched again and she retched into the bowl.
Molly clucked and sighed in sympathy. "You poor dear. I'll make you some tea."
Thanks Molly, Lucy said silently as she wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. She'd feel fine in a few minutes, she knew that, but it didn't make this any more pleasant.
When she finally felt sufficiently presentable and not too nauseous, she unlocked the door to find a steaming cup of tea and Ron Weasley sitting on the floor outside.
"Hi." He grinned and stood up, handing her the tea. "Mum said this would make you feel better."
"Thanks." She took it and sipped, trying not to meet his eyes. She had no idea how long he'd been sitting out there; what if he'd heard her throwing up? That was just embarrassing. "Sorry I'm so disgusting right now..."
"You're not disgusting," he said, rolling his eyes. "You could never be disgusting."
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't reply and simply sipped her tea.
"I don't suppose you feel up to having some lunch?"
Lucy looked down at her stomach, which growled accommodatingly. "I suppose I might be," she said with a laugh.
Hermione watched Draco read the rulebook, a slight frown creasing his forehead. His pale grey eyes darted across the pages as he read the small print. She wondered how much of it he actually understood; it was a Muggle game, after all. His long-fingered hands turned the thin pages delicately and she noticed for the first time how neat and clean his nails were, how smooth the skin on the backs of his hands looked. The lean muscles of his forearms moved under the skin as he raised a hand to turn a page. The clean white bandage on his left arm covered the Mark that marred his otherwise perfect skin.
She tore her eyes away, suddenly awash with...what? It wasn't revulsion, or disgust. Shock, perhaps? Shock at finding herself admiring Draco Malfoy? She had admitted in a girl-to-girl conversation about boys with Ginny that he wasn't unattractive, but had she really sunk that low that she would sit there ogling him like Pansy bloody Parkinson?
"Are you alright?"
Jerked back to the present, she looked up sharply and nodded on reflex. He seemed appeased by this and nodded back, setting down the rulebook beside the board.
"So I just have to make sure I don't run out of money?" he asked.
Hermione coughed lightly. "Pretty much." She sat up cross-legged and set the unfolded board flat on the bed in front of her, placed the packs of cards on the correct rectangles and started to divide the correct amount of money.
As she sorted, Draco was looking at the silver game pieces with confusion and interest. She decided to wait until he asked her before explaining anything about them; she didn't want to draw unwanted attention to his ignorance by acting like a know-it-all.
This is DRACO MALFOY you're being nice to! her inner voice shouted.
Hermione considered this, but dismissed it on principle. He had been nice to her thus far; she would return the favour until he gave her reason to do otherwise. Besides, his confused frown was slightly adorable.
No. Not adorable. Amusing perhaps, but definitely not adorable.
She pulled herself together and focused, setting the correct piles of Monopoly money in front of each of them. Draco mirrored her as she sorted hers into piles of each colour, obviously looking to her for guidance about the best way to play.
"Choose one," she said, pointing to the bag of silver pieces in his hand. "I want the hat."
He fished out the top-hat and held it out. She hesitated, before reaching out and holding her hand flat. He dropped the hat onto it and tipped the bag out onto his own hand, looking through the pieces.
"So whatever I choose is the thing I move around the board?" Draco looked to Hermione for clarification
She nodded, setting the hat on the large corner square marked START.
"You happy with the hat?" Draco asked, watching her nod. "Then I'll have..." He hesitated, still looking at the pile of random objects. Hermione thought he'd probably recognise most of them, but some would confuse him greatly. He held up the car, looking very worried. "What's this? I assume it's some kind of transport because of the wheels, but how does it move? Where do the horses go?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
Before she realised what she was doing, Hermione found herself laughing. Actually laughing. She'd thought she'd never have reason to laugh again, but here she was, laughing at this pureblood boy who didn't know what a car was. After a moment, he joined in; at first it sounded awkward but then they both seemed to realise that it was okay to laugh. The feeling was nice. It made Hermione almost feel like she was the same contented girl who had been started magic lessons at school six years ago, before words like 'mudblood' and 'Death Eater' really existed in her world.
Finally, wiping her eyes, Hermione pulled herself together. She felt strangely sad for a moment, as if she had just woken up from a wonderful dream but it was time to wake up now. Then Draco made her smile again, still looking intently at the little metal car.
"It's a car," she said finally, trying her best not to sound condescending. "Non-magical people use them to travel long distances."
"But...what powers it?" He put it beside the top-hat, apparently choosing it as his game piece.
"Muggle technology. I could lend you a book about it if...if you want?" she finished rather tentatively, not sure how he would react.
Surprisingly, he grinned. "That sounds good. I don't know anything about it."
"A-Alright." Hermione picked up the dice and rolled them inexpertly. "Seven. That means I move forwards seven places. Oh, I've landed on..."
Outside the door, Ginny leaned her head back softly against the wall and smiled. She had believed that she would never hear Hermione laugh again, yet there it was, clear as a bell. Draco Malfoy was a miracle worker. It was a shame he had to carry that surname for the rest of his life. If he really had changed - or if this was the real Draco they were finally meeting - nobody who had known him at school would believe it.
Voices from downstairs made her ears prick up and she frowned. Could that be who she thought it was? But they weren't supposed to be back for another week...
"Fred? George?" she called as she made her way down the stairs.
"In the kitchen!" they chorused.
She broke into a grin and leapt down the last five stairs, barrelling into the kitchen. The twins hugged her at the same time, all three Weasleys laughing in delight.
"I thought you were away for another week at least!" Ginny exclaimed, looking the pair of them up and down. Apart from a few bruises and some scorched clothing, the twins looked unharmed.
"We were," Fred replied, "but we got lucky."
"The supply drop we were staking out was supposed to be empty until next Wednesday, but the bastards must have decided to stock up early." George grinned and pointed to a small rucksack sitting on the table. "We're set for the next six months. Even found some Firewhiskey, I thought Harry might like it."
Ginny chuckled. "Harry's the leader of the rebellion! You reckon he's got time to sit around drinking Firewhiskey?"
"Well what else do you people do here?" Fred asked flippantly. "You're not the ones risking your necks so there's bacon for breakfast."
"Don't say that so loudly," Ginny said quickly, suddenly anxious. "Don't let Harry or Ron hear you saying that. They've been angling for an away-mission for days."
"They can have our next one, if they like," George said morosely. "Kingsley's got us on lookout detail starting the day after tomorrow, for that Squib colony in the Forest of Dean."
"That means Polyjuice Potion," Fred added grimly. "Again."
Ginny shook her head. They loved it really, she knew. Her brothers would be going crazy if they were shut up in this place for weeks on end. They thrived on the excitement and the danger, the thrill of evading capture out in the field. Even the horrible experience of using Polyjuice Potion wasn't really going to stop them enjoying themselves. She left them to their discussion, not really wanting to know the details. It was bad enough knowing that her family was in danger, without knowing exactly how much danger. She didn't want to know how close the twins would be to following their father. On her way up the stairs, she decided to take a bath before checking in on Hermione and Malfoy.
"Kreacher?" she called as she closed her bedroom door.
The elf appeared a second later. "Miss Weasley?"
"Fred and George are home. They'll be here for a couple of days. Could you possibly arrange for their laundry to be done as soon as possible?"
"Of course, Miss Weasley. Will that be all?"
"Yes, thank you, Kreacher."
Over an hour later, Draco was feeling very smug. "Come on. Pay up."
Hermione winced as Draco laughed, holding out his hand. She'd managed to land on another one of his properties. In fact, she'd had to pay him so much rent that he was almost starting to feel bad about it. Hermione didn't seem to mind too much though, handing over the colourful scraps of paper that passed for money with a disgruntled expression. So far, Draco was definitely winning as far as money was concerned.
He took the money and added it to his growing piles beside his property cards, chuckling softly. For a game he'd never played in his life before, he was turning out to be quite a dab hand at Monopoly.
"I don't want to be the hat anymore. It's obviously bad luck." Hermione narrowed her eyes at the little silver hat.
If looks could kill, Draco thought in amusement, there would be a little silver puddle on the board right now.
He took up the dice and rolled. "Yes, eight!"
"What's special about eight?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Absolutely nothing. I just like the number." He smiled and picked up the silver car, but a series of loud bangs from downstairs made him drop it in shock. It skittered across the board and fell down the side of the bedcovers, next to the radiator.
What the hell was that?
If Draco was shocked, however, it was nothing compared to Hermione's reaction. He looked round quickly and saw her staring blankly at her lap, where her hands were clasped tightly together. As he watched, her closed fists started to shake and her knuckles were growing white.
"Hermione?" he said softly, not wanting to startle her.
She didn't respond, still staring blankly at her hands as a tear slipped down her white cheek and - to Draco's horror - blood started to seep between her fingers. Throwing caution to the winds, he reached out and grabbed her hands, forcing them apart. "Hermione! It's alright! It's just me. You're safe."
Unfortunately, this had the opposite reaction to what he had hoped for. She did stop squeezing her nails into her hands so hard, but the unexpected contact with Draco obviously panicked her. Letting out a strangled shriek, she threw herself backwards and grabbed at the covers to pull them up. The Monopoly board and everything on it went flying, scattering over the floor.
"It's okay-" Draco started to say, backing up with his hands in the air, but he was interrupted by the door bursting open.
Harry darted inside, casting a wary glance at Malfoy before looking over at Hermione. She was now huddled in the corner of the bed with the covers pulled up to her face, staring ahead with red-rimmed eyes. She didn't look at him, even as he took a step closer to the bed.
"Malfoy, you need to leave." Harry spoke softly but his tone was firm.
"I'm not leaving her like this," Draco protested, but Harry turned and shook his head.
"You don't get it. Ron's on his way and he will kill you if he finds out you were in here. Just go back upstairs."
Draco stared at him for a moment. "Promise me someone will come and explain things to me later?"
"Alright." Harry nodded and waved a hand at the door. "I promise, now just go!"
Sparing a moment to glance in Hermione's direction, Draco turned and fled the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. He ran up the stairs and got back into his room just in time to hear Ron's heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs and past his door. Heart pounding, he tried not to imagine what would happen to him if either Harry or Hermione revealed that he had been alone with her. Ron really would kill him; he had no doubt of that.
Harry stepped a little closer to the bed, very aware that Hermione was still hyperventilating. "Hermione?" he said softly. "I know you don't want to talk to me and that's fine, but I need you to calm down. You're safe. There is no danger here."
She looked up at him and he was shocked by the expression on her face. He'd never seen her looking so scared; not since he'd rescued her from the Malfoy dungeons, anyway. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide, still trickling tears down her face. Her breathing did seem to be getting back under her control, though, which was good.
"Hermione?" He tried again, stepping closer and holding up his hands to show that he wasn't going to harm her. It broke his heart that he needed to act like this around her, but if it was what she needed then he would do it for as long as it took. Her cheeks flushed a bright red and Harry realised, slightly too late, that she was embarrassed. She'd always hated being watched when she was upset. He looked away and gave her a few moments to wipe her face on the covers.
Unfortunately, a moment was all she got because the door banged open again. Ron stepped inside, his expression a strange mix of concern and anger.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked, taking several steps into the room and reaching out a hand.
She shrank back and pulled the covers up higher, shaking her head rapidly. Harry understood and stepped forward, putting an arm in front of Ron. "Don't go any closer, mate. She's terrified."
"Well yeah, but not because of me. Right?" Ron frowned. "Hermione?"
Hermione still wasn't looking at him. Stifling an obvious growl of frustration, Ron turned to Harry. "Was anyone else in here?"
"No," Harry lied without hesitation. "She was alone when I came in."
"No bloody wonder she was so scared then. I still don't know what caused that noise in the first place." Ron opened his mouth to say more but there was a knock at the door. Harry opened it for the third time in as many minutes to admit Fred and George. The twins both looked ashamed and worried as they stepped further into the room, looking only at Hermione.
"We, uh, have something to tell you," George said quietly. "We caused all that noise just now. We're so sorry it scared you, Hermione."
"It was an accident," Fred added quickly. "I forgot I'd left some fireworks in my cloak when I gave it to Kreacher for washing. The water set them off."
"If it helps," George said with a small chuckle, "they almost gave us heart-attacks too."
Hermione didn't say anything but she nodded slowly. Harry and the twins took that to mean that she understood and possibly accepted their apology. One of the group, however, was not satisfied by their explanation.
"Of course it doesn't bloody help!" Ron snapped. "Do you have any idea what she went through in the last few weeks?"
"Yes, actually, we do. Ginny told us," Fred said shortly. He turned back to Hermione and said, "I'll understand if you're still upset with us for frightening you. I just want to you to know that we're both really sorry and if there's anything you need, you just let us know."
Hermione nodded again and gave the twins a small smile. They grinned in return and looked round at the other two.
"I guess we should probably go now," George suggested. His twin nodded and they waved goodbye to Hermione, who nodded back. "By the way you two, Mum says she wants some help in the kitchen," he added as he opened the door to leave.
Ron opened his mouth but Harry spoke over him. "We'll be right down," he said quickly, shooting Ron a warning look. "Will you be alright now, Hermione?"
She glanced up at him and nodded once, turning her hands over to look at them. For the first time, Harry noticed the drips of blood on the sheets and running down her fingers.
"Hermione, your hands!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"
"I'll get Pomfrey," Ron muttered, leaving the room without another word. Harry frowned and looked at Hermione's hands, where the marks of her nails were clear against the pale skin of her palms. It was obvious that she'd done it to herself. Biting his tongue to keep from saying something that might make things worse, Harry muttered something vague about going to see if Molly needed help, then left the room with Fred and George.
On his way down the stairs, he tried to blink away the tears that threatened to betray his feelings to the world. When he couldn't get rid of them, he ducked into an airing cupboard and put his face into his hands, sobbing quietly.
He'd thought she was getting better, he really had. Ginny had told him Hermione had spoken to her. Why, then, wouldn't she look him in the eye? Why wouldn't she speak to him? He wracked his brains as he wiped his eyes on a clean towel he found on a shelf. What made Ginny special when Harry and Ron were not?
Then it hit him; the one factor that linked Ginny and Hermione but not Hermione and himself.
Malfoy.
A bit more Dramione in this chapter - did you like it? :)
Sorry for the tiny cliffy :S I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for the next chapter. Also I know the last section probably seems a little rushed. That was intentional, but if it seems a bit TOO rushed then let me know and I'll edit some more.
Thanks for reading, guys :) Please leave a review and let me know if you liked this chapter!