"Sleepyheads, good morning," said Ab, softly knocking on their door, then cautiously continued. "It's almost noon."
Hermione woke with a jerk, eyes still closed and momentarily disorientated. "K," was her breathy, barely audible response. She'd been so blissfully comfy. Her pillow was warm and soft and it just smelled so good. It gently bobbed up and down and she further nuzzled her nose into it.
"Granger," drawled Draco, voice husked with fatigue. "You burrow your nose any deeper into my artery; I might just pass out."
She yanked her head back, rapidly blinking herself awake as the cushion grumbled beneath her. Reaching a hand out behind her, she swiftly searched for the real pillow that held her wand. After a couple of blind pats to the mattress, she found it nestled where she'd left it; inside the pillowcase. Sighing in relief, she let herself go limp.
Fingering the cushion until her pinky grasped the jagged tip of her wand, she languidly pulled it out from its not so secret hiding spot and gripped it loosely in her hand. Lifting it up, she muttered a soft "Lumos"; illuminating the room and making her squint at the sudden brightness.
"Some warning Granger!" Hissed Draco, turning his head away from the blinding light.
"Sorry," she replied, slowly sitting up and dimming the glow. Eyes adjusted, she snuck a glance in his direction.
At some point in the night, Malfoy had rolled onto his back, and looking down to where she slept, she gathered she eventually cuddled up to him. She felt her hand gripping the sheets tighten ever so slightly. She took a couple of controlled, quiet breaths to halt the creeping of her flush as her brain registered and caught up with the morning's series of developments. What a mortifying and awkward position to wake up to. Nestled into his Adam's apple as if they were dating…
Her eyes darted away, choosing instead to look at the dresser across the room. He hadn't recoiled. He hadn't pushed her away and told her she was filthy or unworthy. He hadn't made it scandalous and sexual. He'd just… poked fun at her.
And that was… new.
Her gaze shifted to the mirror on the dresser, where his fully clothed reflection lay on the bed beside her.
True to his word, Draco had stayed on top of the blankets.
She studied him as he brought his head back to face the ceiling and threw the crook of his arm over his eyes, not quite yet ready to face the world. Her eyes subtly slipped from the mirror to the man lying beside her. His shirt was disheveled, wrinkled, and untucked. It'd climbed up almost to his naval, nearly exposing it.
"I'm going to go get dressed," she decided, tearing her eyes from him and sluggishly slipping off the bed.
"You do that," he groaned.
Good, thought Hermione. They weren't going to acknowledge their awkward start. That was totally fine with her.
She went to the bathroom to get changed and made her way to the kitchen, where Ab and another woman sat, sipping coffee and quietly talking.
"Good morning Edna, nice to see you again," she smiled.
Both dropped what they were saying to welcome her, "and you too Jane," said Edna.
The woman's lips were curled into a tight smile as Hermione took a seat beside her, crossing her arms and leaning them on the table.
"Is everything ok?" she asked.
"Actually I was wondering how you were holding up," responded the elder lady, exchanging a glance with her brother and leaning over in her chair to gently take Hermione's arm in her wrinkled palm, giving it a gentle rub.
"Me? Well I'm fine," said Hermione, noting the sudden shift in mood.
"Well you see child," she started, gently grabbing Hermione's sleeve and carefully rolling it up her arm, "I noticed your scar here the other day, while we worked on your friend," she said, exposing Hermione's hideous MUDBLOOD engraving, "and I couldn't help but notice you hadn't gotten rid of it," she added, looking back up at her as she slowly moved her hand so it hovered above the words. "Does it hold significance to you?"
Feeling uneasy and self-conscious, Hermione didn't respond right away, her eyes flickering between the two. She debated her answer, partially fearing she might say too much and partially fearing being judged if she didn't give a good enough response. She hesitantly pulled her arm back and tugged down the sleeve, earning a deep frown from the woman beside her.
"I haven't found a way to heal it," she softly admitted. "But I've tried."
"I thought so," responded Edna. "It seems to hold a rather dark property. I'd go so far as to say it's cursed."
Hermione figured as much.
And it was made obvious when Edna had worked on Malfoy, that she was well versed in magical maladies and injuries. It'd been fascinating to watch as Edna had swept her wand over him with complicated circles and incantations that slowed down his bleeding.
If she was being honest it was even more intriguing when she was asked to assist in making a salve for him. Edna had been great with instructions, concise, to the point, and relatively calm throughout the ordeal. They'd applied it and she watched, completely engrossed in the moment as his open chest wound had closed before her eyes, the last of the potion they'd brewed sinking into his flesh and disappearing as if it'd never been there in the first place. Edna was a very skilled witch. Perhaps she had the knowledge to help her get rid of the monstrosity that'd been carved into her.
"Cursed to stay on forever?" she asked, eyebrows rising as a ray of hope suddenly swelled within her.
"That was perhaps its intention," the elder woman replied. "But if you're interested – I've brewed something up that might be able to help."
Edna reached inside her bright and colorful robes and pulled out a small, clear jar, filled with a brown creamy substance.
"Hand-picked the ingredients myself," she added with a nod, "no miscalculations, excessively filled in case you need it for a different occasion," she said, watching Hermione's eyes carefully.
"How do you mean?" she asked, tearing her eyes away to stare at the goo, silently analyzing the concoction.
"You never know," said Edna with a slight shrug, eyes going back to Hermione's forearm and letting her voice trail off. Then she made a mixing motion with the vial, slushing the barely moving compound in its flask. "It's a mixture of my own concoction. You don't live around these parts without picking up a thing or two."
"Oh wow," breathed Hermione, eyes gleaming with interest. "What's it made of?" she asked, graciously accepting it from Edna's outstretched hand.
"Curious one, isn't she?" Edna spoke to her brother as an honest smile spread to her dark, chapped lips.
"Agreed!" said Ab. "If I didn't know any better I'd say perhaps you've been sorted into the wrong house! Ravenclaw would have done you well."
Hermione gave a small smile.
"No," she responded. "Gryffindor was best for me."
"Could have been both," said Edna, lifting her hands as if to balance one decision to the other.
"Thank you," said Hermione earnestly, eagerly unscrewing the cap and setting it on the table.
She'd been starting to lose hope in getting the dreaded thing off. She'd tried virtually every spell she knew when she'd been on the run with Harry and Ron. She tried potions and herbs and lotions. She'd completely exhausted herself out of ideas on how to rid herself of it. She'd even retried the spells that had already failed – just in case. Despite all her efforts, the damn thing just got angry at her, mockingly flaming before returning to its disfigured, discolored mark.
"Good morning," entered Draco as he languidly turned the corner into the room. He'd fixed his rumpled clothes and had attempted to tame his hair, which had unsuccessfully fallen back into his eyes. He seemed to be in an awfully good mood.
"Good morning young man. How are you feeling?" asked Edna.
He looked to the visitor's large face and beady eyes.
"Well, thank you," he responded out of politeness and casually leaned against the archway that divided the kitchen from the hall, crossing his arms and giving a civil upturn of his mouth as he did.
"Septimus," boasted Ab. "This is my sister, Edna," he said making a grand gesture to the woman, "she's the healer who took care of your wound the other day," he said, bringing his hand back to pat his chest, right where Draco's wound had been.
"Some splinch you had there…Septimus was it?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
Draco's smile faltered.
"You wouldn't have happened to land on a piece of wood during your crash, did you? I meant to ask you about the splinters I found buried deep within your tissue."
He glanced over to Hermione, who stiffly held an open jar of brown gunk, her gaze quickly flickering over to him.
"Might have," he answered, keeping his composure. "By the way, you do marvelous work," he added, easily slipping on a charming smile, "I gather I'll be able to play Quidditch again by the end of the quarter."
"Do you play dear boy?" Said Ab, excitedly leaning forward, his large abdomen pressing against the table.
"One of my year's top seekers," he bragged, giving him a one hundred-watt smile.
"That's it," interjected Edna with a small smile and a dismissive wave of her hand. "If we're going to start talking sports, I have better things to do," she said, a small smile to her lips and eyes rolling as she pushed her chair back and stood up.
Hermione stood to join her, "thank you so much again Edna, I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate the kind gesture."
"Well give it a go then," said the woman from behind her chair, making encouraging motions and nodding to the vial. "Let's see just how good I am."
"How do I apply it?" Asked Hermione, who'd returned to examining the substance as she brought her finger up to drift over its soft and gooey surface.
"Enough to cover it," replied Edna, her hands twirling in vague motions.
Draco pushed off the wall and took a step forward, "what's that?" He asked as they watched Hermione dipped her finger into the sludge.
"It's cream I made for her scar," replied Edna and he watched in sudden apprehension as Hermione further pulled her shirt up to her elbow. "I can't imagine she enjoys walking around with it. The herbs have reversive properties that are easily absorbed by the skin. Shouldn't take long at all to see if it'll make a difference."
His eyes darted to the jar and he took a hurried step towards it, his diplomatic mask slipping away with his sudden alarm.
"Should do wonders against all magically induced brands," the woman added pointedly as she watched him move, eyes traveling to the mark concealed under Draco's shirt as he came to an abrupt stop beside the younger woman, eyes widening and his gaze snapping to Edna's. Hermione looked up as well, paused in her movement, a saturated finger suspended over her scarred skin.
She knew.
His hand shot out faster than Hermione could react, and he grabbed her outstretched arm, fingers curling around the faded letters of her mark. The jerk caused the open jar to fly out of her hand and clatter to the ground, its contents oozing out onto the wooden floor.
Hermione whipped her head around to him so fast it was a wonder her neck didn't snap.
"Bloody hell!" She spat at him, eyes widened in shock and outrage. What the hell was he doing? They needed to de-escalate the situation, not make things worse.
Draco's chest rose and fell as his eyes flickered between Hermione's, as not one, but now two red flags continued to wave quickly and aggressively at the back of his mind.
"I think it's time we left," he said somewhat controlled and evenly, quickly re-schooling his expression, his grip tightening around Hermione's arm as his gaze shifted to the older adults in the room, who'd been stunned to silence by the commotion.
Eyes weary of Draco's form, Edna slowly bent down to where the vial had rolled near her foot, and gently lifted the jar, trying to salvage what little potion remained.
"Do you think I mean to poison her, child?" She said, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief.
Hermione roughly pulled her arm from Draco's grip, "of course not!"
She turned back to Draco, giving him a dirty look, "stop it," she hissed, "you're overreacting."
She lifted her chin and walked over to Edna, swiping a cloth off the sink as she passed and joined her on the floor to help clean up the spill.
"I'm so, so sorry about this."
"Don't you remember what I said?" Draco snapped at her.
"Whatever it was, right now it doesn't matter" she fumed, teeth clenching as she lifted her eyes and bore holes into his skull, then she wiped her coated finger over the edge of the jar, letting the substance return to its home and proceeded to vigorously wipe up the floor with her cloth.
"Nothing comes for free," he steadily reminded her.
The woman knew he was a deatheater, which meant there was no telling what was actually put into the potion, or what its real purpose was. That notion alone should be enough to excuse his actions. The situation really fell into his favor.
"Abellach, would you mind giving us a moment?" said Edna, still crouched, pensively swishing the remaining thin line of contents in the jar. The three looked at her, air thickening with the tension.
Ab looked between the three, a finger nervously drumming the table.
"If that's what is needed," he finally said, standing up and respectfully pushing in his chair. "I'll just be outside."
When the footsteps could no longer be heard down the hallway, Edna spoke up.
"My brother took a risk taking you in," she said, rising from her spot on the ground and pulling herself up to her full height. "As did I when I knowingly healed a young man baring the sign of the dark mark."
Hermione stopped scrubbing, as whatever remaining air in the room was sucked away into an invisible vacuum.
"These are different times. But it's always prudent to note that inviting strangers into one's home could be asking for big trouble."
Hermione stiffened and hesitantly stood, taking a couple of steps back to the sink, where she gently placed the sullied rag into the basin and lightly leaned against it, her hand inconspicuously slipping into her back pocket, wrapping her fingers around the handle of her wand.
"But as I contemplated leaving your ghostly, fading complexion I noticed this poor girl's arm," she pointed to Hermione, " and the horrendous engraving it possessed," she looked back at Draco, "I thought to myself; was it he, the one who gave this to her?"
"I didn't give it to her," Draco tensely spit out.
"And even if he didn't, why would a muggleborn work so tirelessly to save a deatheater? Surely she knows who you are. Perhaps she needed him to break the curse she held," she said, taking a step towards him, hands whisking away with her theory. Hermione's grip tensed. "But as I worked with her, she showed genuine concern for your wellbeing."
Hermione leaned further back against the sink and let go of her wand, still snug in her pocket, and pensively brought her hands up to rest on the counter behind her, avoiding Draco's glance as she stared at the floor, intently listening to Edna's deduction, "so I finished the job. And I haven't told them," she added, nodding her head in the direction Ab had left.
Hermione let out a breath. Edna stood there between them, eyes briefly flickering between the young adults.
"Well?" she sharply asked when neither said anything.
"We've had…the most unbelievable of weeks," started Hermione. "And we are so, so very grateful for all your help. We mean you and your family no harm…I really like Ab and Nora, they're kind and thoughtful and-"
"With all due respect child, you're not the one I'm concerned with," she stated, eyes darting to Draco
"No need to fret on my account," spat Draco, a defensive sneer appearing on his lips, "we're leaving."
Edna slowly and deliberately reached over the table, ignoring Draco's stiffened posture, and grabbed the cap to the container, gently screwing it back on the jar before placing it back onto the wood, her hands coming up to grip the chair beside her.
"If I wanted you dead, I would have left you to die. I have no hidden agenda," she said, eyebrow raising and opening her hands to him. "The potion was made because I suspect something deeper is happening here," she said, finger shifting between the two," and I've got a feeling you're not willing to share what it is. But from what I've seen and heard, the both of you could use it," she finished, accent as heavy as her brothers.
Draco's gaze momentarily flickered back to Hermione.
"As I said," he replied, eyes making their way back to Edna. "We'll be heading out."
Enda turned to Hermione, "is he holding you captive, child?"
Draco exhaled a loud breath, gaining Edna's attention, and leaned over the chair in front of him, elbows resting on its wooden back as his hands clasped together, "try again."
Edna's eyebrow's shot up in surprise.
"Well then," she said, turning to Hermione and looking rather impressed, "for some reason that isn't as big as a surprise as I think it should be."
Hermione gave her a sheepish smile.
"Were you really leaving today?" Edna asked her.
"We were," she confirmed.
Enda nodded, "well alrighty then."
Draco stiffened as she made her way to him, and lifted a finger to his face, "I hope you remember what was done for you in this place, and the kindness that was shown to you," she said glaring at him, then proudly looked ahead and brushed passed him, "no strings attached," she added as she rounded the corner out of view.
He huffed a breath as she went.
Hermione pushed herself off the counter. He dodged her gaze as he looked off to the side and felt rather than saw as she walked past him too.
"And where are you going?" he asked, rather annoyed with it all.
"To gather my things," she muttered. "We're leaving."
"Fine by me," he grumbled.
Hermione stepped outside. The sun shone bright, the rays gently heating her cheeks and forehead, a nice change from the cold weather they'd been having. The small house didn't have much of a front yard, the door was only steps to the main road, where the townspeople bustled about the muddy street.
Some had magical vending carts full of colorful vegetables, pulled by the off-putting black threshals, invisible to all but those who've seen death. Their snouts heaved out heavy vapor in the morning air. It was quite a bizarre contrast. Other carts simply floated on the spot, the farmers politely conversing with shoppers.
The atmosphere was relaxed and welcoming, with no one in a hurry. It smelled of straw and hay and it reminded her of the farmer's market back in her hometown. It was only missing the overgrown pumpkins that littered the streets. The townsfolk seemed happy and they adorned sincere smiles as they conversed with one another.
Nora was energetically chatting to a nearby merchant, excitedly waving her arms as she went. She noticed Hermione and gave her a little wave, excusing herself from the man and quickly crossing the road to reach her.
"Jane! Have you ever tried locally grown squash? I was thinking of making some tonight for supper – do you think Septimus would like it? I need an expert opinion before I start buying."
Hermione's heart dropped. Nora was so warm and kind. She didn't want to leave her, Ab, or this quaint little village.
"Actually Nora," said Hermione, trying to sound as grateful as she could. "Septimus and I need to head home."
"What? Already?" Nora stopped in front of her, brows furrowed. "But you've only just got here!"
Hermione gave her a small smile, "we really don't want to impose any longer…"
"Not at all! Come, come," she said, grabbing Hermione's arm and tugging her back to the door, solidly ignoring Hermione's weak protests, "I'll make you some hot breakfast-"
Just then, Malfoy opened the arched wooden door and strode out of the house.
"Ready to leave then Jane?" he said, pushing past the two women to step out into the road without giving them a second look.
"Yes," she sighed, seeing Ab's large figure approach the open door to step out and tenderly rest his arm around Nora's shoulders.
When he noticed Hermione didn't immediately follow, Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for her, choosing to watch the street vendors on the other side of the cobblestone beneath his feet. It would be just like her to prolong goodbyes.
"But you haven't had breakfast yet," Nora protested.
"We…" Hermione dragged her eyes to Draco, who's head turned back to give her a sharp look before returning his gaze to the street.
"It was just so lovely to meet you both," she said, her chest tightening as she watched Nora's crestfallen expression look up in confusion to her husband. "But I'd love to come back and visit sometime," she said glancing at Ab, "if you'd have me."
A spark of joy seemed to return to Ab's eyes, as if the tension in the kitchen never happened, "of course! Anytime! We're just sorry to see you leave so soon…it wasn't Edna, was it? She has a tendency to frighten the birds away."
"Don't worry," interjected Draco, who'd stepped up behind Hermione and reached his hand out around her to Ab, "It'd take a ghastly amount to frighten this owl into flight," he said inclining his head towards her, and she fought the sudden urge to stick her tongue out to him. "Thanks. For everything," he added, sincerely maintaining eye contact with the man.
Ab took Draco's hand and gave it a firm shake, "any time," he smiled.
"Take care," said Hermione, taking a step back and making Draco sidestep as she bumped into him. He hadn't realized how close he'd gotten.
"Stay safe," she added as he recovered and fell into step beside her as she continued to back away.
"Why don't you just give them a hug," he murmured sarcastically, paying no more attention to the adults who reciprocated her farewell.
"Bye!" she called out, ignoring him and giving the couple a sad wave with her hand.
"Granger," he whispered harshly.
"Yes, yes, I know," she snapped back and shot him a glare from beneath her overgrown bangs. She pulled her wand from her back pocket and grabbed the crook of his elbow with the other. She closed her eyes and pictured her destination clear in her mind. Then, with a magical tug at her naval, they vanished from the street.
They landed in an alley, both surprisingly solid in balance as they did.
"Any longer and I'm pretty sure that old crow was going to come out and expose us," he snarled.
"Don't be ridiculous," she huffed, fingers still around his arm. "If she wanted to expose us she would've done it in front of her brother," she added, grip tugging and tightening around his bicep to convey her point.
He frowned and dipped his head down, getting level with her face, "don't fool yourself. In about five minutes she'll have told them everything."
It was hard to ignore his proximity when the warmth of his breath hit her nose.
"Possibly," she admitted, averting her eyes and unconsciously slipping her lip between her teeth and giving it a quick chew before releasing it. She looked back up to him in time to see his gaze fly back up to hers, "but we don't know that for sure."
"I really do," he said, arching an eyebrow and giving a small tilt of his head for emphasis.
She sighed, knowing he was probably right and her gaze dropped to her hand in the crook of his arm. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion as she realized at some point he'd bent his elbow and his forearm had been brought up and lightly rested against his chest in a very aristocratic like posture. He registered her gaze and followed her line of sight until he found her distraction and quickly glanced away, sharply dropping his arm back to his side as he did.
"Habit," he muttered, pale ears suddenly burning.
She nodded and couldn't help a small smile as it tugged on her lips.
"Watch it Malfoy, someone might see you acting like a gentleman. To a muggle-born," she teased. "What's that word you called Ron once? Blood-traitor?"
She held a dimpled grin, knowing full well she'd hit a nerve. But it felt good to bring up her friends and a real smile bloomed.
His eyes narrowed and unconsciously darted around the alleyway.
"Wow," she laughed.
He scowled as his gaze returned to hers, "think you're bloody hilarious do you?"
"I can be," she said, stepping back and giving him a mock bow. She looked quite comical in her exaggerated stance. It was disarming.
He suppressed his amusement as he rolled his eyes; his mouth ending up in a lopsided smirk.
"Alright," she said popping back up with a bounce and turned on her heel toward the street, "let's get some supplies."
As he approached the sidewalk, his steps slowed until he came to a stop, his gaze abruptly glued to the road in front of him. Noticing his missing footfall, Hermione paused a couple of steps ahead and turned to him with a raised eyebrow, watching as his brows furrowed at the passing traffic.
His fist made some rapid open and closing motions and his eyes darted around nervously. She tried to follow his shifting line of sight, through the traffic, to the shops on either side of the street, to the crowds of people bustling about the morning rush but found nothing out of sorts. She looked over at him once more, noting his head slightly recoiling as a convertible zoomed past them.
"Those are cars," she finally stated.
"I bloody well know what a car is," he spat, eyes shifting between the following vehicles as they passed.
She took a couple of steps back to him, glancing around in case she missed something, "well what's the problem?"
He took a couple more moments watching the cars rush by on the busy street.
"Nothing," he said quietly before he turned to her. "Where are we exactly?"
"London."
"Muggle London," he corrected.
"Exactly," she said, once again turning on her heel and resuming her path down the sidewalk.
"Why exactly are we in muggle London?" he said, hesitantly moving his feet until he picked up the pace, his long stride easily catching up with her.
"Supplies," she said over her shoulder to him.
"We couldn't get the supplies in wizarding London?" he frowned, dodging a crowd of pedestrians that Hermione weaved through with ease.
"It's much safer here," she said, stopping at an intersection and pressing a button on a metal post.
Draco watched a man in a hurry, hands filled with plastic bags from the other side of the road take off in a dash through the traffic, nearly getting hit by a vehicle, and car horns suddenly filled the air around them. The man safely made it to their side of the road and kept jogging into the direction they'd come from.
"Doubtful," muttered Draco as he watched the man disappear in the sea of people down the street.
The pedestrian light flashed and Hermione reached up and give his elbow a short tug,
"Come on," she said, getting his attention and stepping out into the stilled street. He followed close behind her, eyes shifting between the stalled cars as he passed them, one by one. They made it to the other side without event and he evened out the shallowed breaths he'd forced himself to take.
"It should be just passed this shop," he heard from in front of him as she craned her neck as they rounded the corner.
"There!"
Large glowing letters adorned the storefront and Draco hesitated before taking the opened door Hermione had briefly held and entered.
Pharmacy
Whatever that was.
He took a quick glance around the inside before following her in and letting his hand slip off the door behind him, it closed with a solid clack and a ring of a bell.
Hermione had already disappeared down an aisle and he wasn't quite sure where she'd gone. He looked to where an elderly lady was hunched over a high counter, lazily reading a newspaper behind bright pink reading glasses. He looked up at the fluorescent lights above him and squinted. He never understood the muggle's need for such brightness.
Candlelight illuminated and brought warmth to its surroundings by enriching colors and casting beautiful shadows, adding depth to its environment. This…he thought, as he looked back down and over the rows of metal shelves before him, was bleak and cold.
He slowly walked into an aisle, closely examining the metal racks that held rows and rows of canned "food". It bore symmetrical holes that had packages hanging from them and it'd obviously been painted at some point because some of it'd been chipped off in random places, giving it an obviously worn and shoddy look.
He wrinkled his nose. Most shops in the wizarding world had an abundance of luscious woods to hold their merchandise. Shop owners were proud people who took good care of their appearances. He gently passed two fingers over the uneven metal, the tips picking up pockets of dust as they went.
His upper lip curled as he wiped it off with this thumb. Even the shops in Knockturn alley had better sanitation, he thought, watching the dust float to the ground. Well, most of them anyway.
He turned back to the shelf and picked up a can of "soup" in front of him, turning it until he found the listed ingredients. Some things he recognized, others he didn't. He noted the word preservatives and frowned.
How were muggles so incompetent as to not be able to acquire fresh ingredients? If a lowly wizarding community like Ab's could do it, then surely they could too. He placed the can back in its spot and leisurely continued his path down the aisle, not bothering to hide his disgust as he went.
Hermione grabbed a toothbrush from its spot on the wall and threw it in her basket that swung from the crook of her arm. Hmm. Maybe I should take two.
She didn't dwell on it and grabbed another for Draco. She moved around quickly and coordinated from one aisle to the next, the crate quickly filling up with peroxide, polysporin, other miscellaneous first aid items, tampons, a hairbrush, and various snacks as she went. She found Draco squinting at a bottle of shampoo and she plucked it out of his hand as she brushed past him, nonchalantly adding it to her pile and moving to grab a couple of bars of soap behind him.
He noted her overflowing basket, and picked up another item from the shelf, ignoring her whirlwind and feigning interest in the conditioner he now held.
"Buying the store than are we?"
"Just the necessities," she said, walking back to him and ripping the bottle out of his hands a second time, only to put it back on the shelf, "and I've finished, so let's go."
She spun away from him and headed towards the elderly lady at the front counter, strands of her hair falling out of her messy bun as she did. It was bunched and already knotted, and incredibly unattractive.
"Hello," said Hermione when she reached the woman behind the counter "Anything interesting in the paper?"
"Same old, same old," she drawled as she began to swipe Hermione's items across the scanner.
"You can add this," said Draco as he none too gently dropped the bottle of conditioner he'd retrieved onto the counter.
"I said essentials only," she emphasized, yanking it out of the pile and putting it off to the side beside her, out of his reach.
She balked as Draco's hand boldly stretched in front of her, his chest brushing her shoulder as he reclaimed it and returned it to the pile once more.
"Trust me," he said, giving her a look, "it is."
"Ha, ha, very funny," she said, rolling her eyes and reaching for it again.
"Just imagine how unrecognizable you'll be when you've managed to tame the snake pit on your head," he grinned, white teeth peeking through his smile.
She glared up at him, mildly insulted, and quickly thought about throwing a similar observation back in his face. But he'd given her an idea.
"You make a good point actually. Watch the items I'll be right back."
His smile dropped and his hands came up in exasperation as he watched her trot away.
"That'll be fifty-three, eighty-four," said the woman behind the counter as she readjusted her falling glasses, looking at him expectantly.
His thumb jotted over his shoulder in the direction Hermione had left, "she's getting it."
"Sure," she said unimpressed, giving him a once over.
"Here you go!" said Hermione as she bounced her way back to the counter. Draco turned to her as she plopped a box onto the counter.
"What's that?"
"You'll see."
"Just tell me," he said, crossing his arms as she retrieved a plastic card to pay.
"Have you never seen hair dye before, hun?" Drawled the old lady as she added the scanned item to the total, her eyes honing in on his platinum blond locks.
"He hasn't actually," defended Hermione before Draco could throw out an insult. "That's his natural hair color."
"Right," answered the old woman after a beat, eyebrow arching in disbelief.
"Yes it's pretty unique and very recognizable," she over articulated as she leaned her elbow on the counter and dropped her head on her first, looking up at him with a smug and piercing, emphasizing gaze.
"Sixty-six, thirty-three," said the lady as the total blinked at them from the machine. Hermione gave her card and put in her password, and patiently waited until she got the green light to go. The machine gave a funny beep.
"It's been declined."
Hermione's eyes widened, and she straightened up, "what?"
"De-clined," repeated the old woman.
Draco frowned, "what does that mean?"
"It means my funds have run out," muttered Hermione, fingers lightly drumming on the counter. Head bowed, she started going through the stack, setting aside the less needed items.
"Let's try these please," she said, setting a smaller amount in front of the cashier.
The woman audibly sighed, but quickly got to work, rescanning the items one by one.
When Hermione swiped again, the card declined a second time.
"Shocker," sighed the old lady once more through her wrinkled pursed lips. Draco's brow rose at the woman's audacity.
"Sorry, no need to be rude," said Hermione, cheeks flushing as she dwindled the pile once more until there were only tampons, the hair dye, a bar of soap, and a couple of non-perishable snacks remaining.
The woman silently scanned the items, occasionally glancing up to Hermione through her overly applied mascara. This time, the card went through.
"Do you want a bag for that?" She asked Hermione, both hands lazily leaning on the counter, silently daring her to say yes.
"Patricia is it?" Interrupted Draco, his grey's narrowed and malicious as he read her name off the woman's lopsided nametag. "Must awfully dull for you, to need to work day in and day out in this dust-filled hellhole."
"Malfoy don't-"
He leaned a little over the counter, ignoring's Hermione's exasperated tone, and imposed his height, almost smirking as the woman bent back to salvage her personal space.
"No ring on your finger, no pride in the clothes you wear," he said gesturing to her knitted sweater with the occasional string piece threading out. "And your posture is atrocious. I'm willing to bet you're a lonely woman, with either a dead or no husband, with at least two cats at home."
"Malfoy!"
"And even they don't love you."
"Oh my God," breathed Hermione, hands coming up to cover her face.
The old woman's mouth dropped open, and she shook her head in disbelief. She quickly returned to her senses, her mouth snapping shut and she gave him the ugliest of glares, before grabbing Hermione's now-empty basket and forcefully shoving the unpurchased items into it, to return them to their rightful places within the aisles, leaving them alone and walking away with a huff.
"I'm so, so sorry!" Hermione called after the woman, her hands sliding down from her eyes to cover her nose. But the woman had already disappeared.
"What is the matter with you?!" she snapped, backhanding his ribs with enough force to wipe the smirk off his face. "You don't just attack people like that; you don't know what she's going through in her personal life."
"What's the matter with you?" He retorted, bringing a hand up to rub to his now tingling rib. "You've never let me talk to you like that. Why's this woman so special?"
"You don't know her. Maybe her husband really did die and she's having trouble coping with it. Being mean to someone never improves anything-"
"Fixed her attitude pretty damn fast-"
"No, she was obviously overwhelmed. She'll probably-"
"Who cares?" He said, reaching over to grab a bag from behind the counter and began adding in the items.
"I do! It's like you don't know how to be an adult-"
"Letting her walk all over you? Letting yourself be humiliated? That's your definition of being an adult?" He said, handing her the half-empty bag.
"No," she said, raising her voice and roughly taking it from his outstretched hand, eyes boring into his. "Recognizing that it's not all about you, is being an adult."
He looked down his nose to her, his posture rigid and tense. She returned the glare evenly. Until she noticed a blinking red light behind his ear in the upper corner of the room.
"Come on," she said, frowning at the camera. "We're making a scene."
She pushed past him and marched to the door. He huffed in disbelief and turned on the ball of his foot not giving her a chance to get ahead and quickly followed her out.
The door swung closed behind them with a clack and the ring of the bell.