The tension surrounding the discussion had eased not even by a notch, and Hermione and Draco's feud dragged on well into the next day.
Conversations between them were reduced to curt exchanges of words, and Draco had shut himself up into his study, be it because he was actually busy or because he was evading her, Hermione didn't give a care.
Frankly, she was still quite enraged by his refusal to help Atty, so much so that she skipped meals entirely just to avoid him.
"Hermione you weren't at breakfast today. Why's that?" Scorpius had asked Hermione, his big, round eyes inquisitive. She had noted that Scorpius had began to refer to her by her first name, which was fine, seeing as Ms Granger was much too curt for her liking.
The chill autumn weather had just unveiled itself, introducing a frigid atmosphere to Britain. Frail beams of sunlight emanated from behind the clouds, providing little but much appreciated heat.
Hermione held Scorpius' small hand as they walked through the lively Diagon Alley for l lunch, making their way to one of the restaurants there. Luna and Ron had agreed to join her for lunch (unbeknownst to them that Scorpius was joining).
Hermione pulled her lips into a tight line. "I just wasn't feeling too well Scorp." She lied quickly, but not effectively. Scorpius' eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes just as curious as ever; eyes hungry for addition information or further explanation. "I thought you did not come because of your fight with daddy."
Hermione huffed. "You heard that?"
The young boy nodded.
Finally, after a short walk, they made it to the restaurant, and Hermione instantly spotted her friends at one of the tables outside of the restaurant.
"Hey Ron, hey Luna." She greeted the couple, occupying the vacant seat in front of them while Scorpius took the seat next to her.
"Oh hello Hermione." Luna said in her airy voice, her wispy blonde hair dancing with the slow breeze. She then directed her attention to Scorpius who sat timidly with his fingers interlocked. "And hello young man. What's your name?" Luna said, her tone soft and comforting.
Her words, although not very impactful to many, had seeped into Scorpius, relaxing his tense demeanour. His eyes brightened as he stared at Luna, assessing her. "My name is Scorpius," He answered. "I like your hair. It's pretty just like Hermione's."
Luna beamed, a bright glow emanating from her smile.
Ron coughed, eyeing the child. "He looks like a Malfoy." He said.
Hermione rolled his eyes. The animosity between Ronald and Draco had not unfortunately dissolved. They say time heals wounds, but she was afraid the wound that was Draco and Ron's hate for each other was doomed to bleed out.
"Yes Ron, this is Scorpius Malfoy, Draco's son. The child I tutor," Ron opened his mouth, only for the words to be interrupted by Hermione. "And no, he is nothing like Draco."
Lunch resumed with no more talk of Scorpius and his father, and they ate their individual meals, the conversation at the table light and for once not pertaining to her life.
While the chatter continued, she became rapt by Luna, who seemed to be glowing despite her lack of makeup. It was akin to the magnificent allure that the veelas emitted; it was enchanting and warm. Wherever it came from, Hermione was envious of it.
"You and Daddy aren't talking. Why?" He asked again when they returned to the manor. As much as Hermione desperately wanted the topic to just drop dead and evaporate to dust before her eyes, Scorpius seemed adamant on reviving it; the hunger that was his curiosity needed to be curbed.
Hermione huffed exhaustedly as she fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater. In her mind she shuffled through the limitless ways she could tell the boy of his father's er... mean streak.
"We just had a misunderstanding. It's nothing to worry about I promise you."
His eyes widened, his lips pulled into a gaunt line on his pallid face. Then in a voice as low and as light as a wisp of wind, he said, "I'm just worried because I don't want you to go. I like having you as my tutor." His words, coupled with the way his tiny hand grasped hers, melted her heart into a warm puddle.
No matter how big a dispute between her and Draco could become, she wouldn't abruptly leave her job. She had done enough observation on Scorpius to conclude that the child had some sort of abandonment issue that stemmed from constantly losing tutors, and possibly the absence of his mother. Hermione felt obligated fill the empty position of the matriarch in the boy's life.
Her heels clicked furiously against the wooden floors as she marched forward, the surface slick and shiny and smelling strongly of polish.
She finally reached the West Wing, where Draco's main study was located, and without a drop of hesitation, she shoved the door open, her tongue lit with the intensity of the words she would hurl at the senior Malfoy.
"Malf-" Hermione began, her eyes burning wildly with ire, which was quickly extinguished as she realised that she was alone in the room.
She cursed, loudly
"Tsk, mind your language Granger." Hermione turned.
There he was, leaning against the threshold with a granny smith apple clutched firmly in his hand, his nails digging into the fruit's hard flesh. And that smirk, that rogue smirk that only amplified his sharp, handsome features was plastered on his face.
He took a bite out of his apple, the crisp sound making her hand itch with the urge to strike him.
His nonchalant tone seemed to be the nail in the coffin for her. "State your business."
She exploded, like a bunch of fireworks ignited simultaneously. "STATE MY BUSINESS?! LISTEN HERE YOU BLEACHED WEASEL AND LISTEN GOOD! YOU'RE ABSOLUTE SHITE YOU KNOW THAT?" She yelled, her every word burning with fury. She panted, deep breaths entering through her nose and exiting from her mouth.
Draco however, seemed unfazed by her sudden outburst. Silence reigned in the room, until Draco's deep chuckle, an expression of his amusement, broke through the thin veil of silence, the sound bouncing off the walls. The chuckle was like gasoline, steadily being poured into the flames of her rage. "How do you expect me to listen to you with you yelling at the top of your lungs? I can barely hear myself think."
Hermione gritted her teeth. If this was the method he was using to irritate her, then it was working quite remarkably.
"Are you happy with the decision you've made? Does it bring your joy to treat those inferior to you like this? I mean really I doubt—Don't fucking interrupt me—I doubt money is the issue. With the amount of wealth you have you can pay sixty house elves. Why can't you just help Atty's family—"
"Granger."
"What?!" She screamed.
He took another bite of his apple, maintaining his nonchalant guise. "I did it."
Hermione's mouth opened, but not a single sound left it as she tried to restrain to string of cuss words she was about to hurl at Draco.
With utmost difficulty, her lips moved again. "W-what?"
Draco's smirk deepened. "Yeah, Atty's family is in the kitchen now as we speak. All eight of them-" Instead of letting him finish she stormed out of the room, shoving him out of the way. The apple fell from his grasp, hitting the floor with thud.
Hermione attempted to walk further, only for her movement to be obstructed by Draco, who had grabbed her by the forearm, his hands grasping her in an iron grip.
"Let go of me." Hermione hissed through gritted teeth. She tried to yank her arm from his hold, but to no avail. It remained just as sturdy as ever.
"Is this not what you wanted Granger?" Draco asked, his eyes void of the amusement they once held. His lips had been fixed into a frown.
"Let. Go. Of. Me." She growled, evading his question. This aggravated Draco further. He yanked her backward into the room, her feet stumbling over the discarded apple, causing her to fall forward into his chest.
It felt like it had stretched on for an eternity, the silence between them, and the awkwardness of the situation Hermione had literally stumbled into. Draco's minty breath fanned her face, the cool sensation ironically caused heat to suffuse over her skin. She could feel the ridges of his muscular bicep beneath her hand, which had been pressed flatly over his upper body.
Draco's steely eyes peered down at Hermione, who was pressed quite intimately against him. He could feel the soft mounds of her breast against his chest, and dear Merlin he was certain she had not worn a bra, because he could make out her nipples protrude from her sweater to prod at his chest. And he could smell her quite distinctly. By Merlin, her scent was so intoxicating that he could spend an entire day inhaling it.
Fuck.
Swiftly he shoved Hermione off of him, breaking their embrace. Hermione stumbled back, her eyes glued to Draco as her chest heaved.
What had just happened?
What was this foreign feeling Malfoy evoked within her?
She apparently didn't care much about finding out, as she quickly left, slamming the door behind her.
Just as she had left, Draco locked the door, before slamming his hands onto the desk, his head bowed, and his hair falling out of place. He drew a deep intake of breath, allowing it to seep through his teeth, his exhale emitting a low hissing sound.
His heart thumped madly in his chest... Yes he could feel it now... It felt like it would jump out of his chest and leave his body.
His palms were damp with perspiration.
Disgusting.
His guts were knotted, making him feel like he would expel his lunch at any moment.
The last time these sort of sensations graced him with their rather unpleasant presence, he had been in sixth year.
The animosity between them had wafted into the following day, creating an impenetrable shawl of awkward silence that wrapped the Manor, engulfing all occupants in its thickness.
True to Malfoy's words, the members of Atty's family had been working around the manor, with some missing as it was their day off. Hermione had managed to scrape some minutes off her busy schedule to speak to each one individually, and was pleased by the satisfactory responses she got. Needless to say, working at the Manor for a weekly wage sure did beat the years of unfair labour and servitude Atty's forefathers had faced at the noble Malfoy house.
Despite the fact that Draco did exactly what Hermione had pleaded for him to do, she stubbornly refused to interact with the platinum blonde, flashbacks of yesterday's row with him dancing across her mind.
They were so close... the closest she had ever been to Malfoy since Ron's party. A part of her craved for his touch, for his hands on her body, any part of it. Despite this just being a fraction of a part compared to the majority parts that even refused to breathe the same air as the Malfoy patriarch, she feared that over time this feeling would begin to multiply, gaining dominance over every thought in her mind.
She knew sooner than later that she would have to swallow (and hopefully not choke on) her pride and amend things with Draco for the sake of Scorpius. Hermione could tell that their animosity was finally getting to the boy, but whether it saddened or annoyed him was still a question to her. She avoided asking him about it as she feared that his little mind would spend too much time pondering over it.
"Granger." It had been precisely nine o'clock when his husky voice had rang out behind the door, accompanied by the loud rapping of his fist against the mahogany surface of the door as he knocked. She had been reading a book then, her mind deeply rapt by the words on the page before her concentration had been severed by his interruption.
Hermione swallowed, in an attempt to moisten her parched throat that may or may not have been dried by his arrival. Now, of all times. This had better be important.
"Come in." She said, without another thought. She went back to reading her book, but it seemed as though the words were dancing around the page, far too quick for her eyes to follow. She huffed and placed the book on her bed, her attention now fixed on Draco, who had just entered, still adorned in his tailored black work robes. Come to think of it, she never really knew where he worked. Obviously him working under someone else was out of the question; Hermione had always seen him as a independent man who liked to follow his own rules. Then again, she also liked to entertain the idea that he was so rich that he didn't need to work. Or did he own businesses...?
Draco coughed, breaking her train of thoughts. He stood by the door, looking curt in his robes. "Granger I..." He trailed off.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. "I was wondering if you wanted to put our fight behind us... you know, bury the hatchet for the sake of Scorpius. My boy doesn't like quarrels, it frustrates him. Astoria and I fought so often that-" He cut himself before he could say more.
Astoria. Was that Scorpius' mother? Where was she, what happened to her, and why was Draco so uncomfortable with speaking about her?
He swallowed the close slip up, before extending his hand to her. The vague memory of a younger version of him doing the same to Harry flashed in her mind for a brief moment. "So... Truce?"
Hermione watched his hand, the gears in her head turning as she contemplated taking his large hand in hers. Do it for Scorpius' sake, one side of her brain said while the other said, Take it, you wanted to touch him right? She bulldozed the latter out of her mind.
She took his hand, which was surprising warm, and shook it. After the shake there was a brief moment where their hands remained interlocked, the different textures of their palms mingling with each other. His, soft from not having to do a single chore or manual task in his youth, hers, just as soft, despite having more experience with menial tasks under her belt than Draco.
"Uhm," Draco broke the embrace, rubbing his sweaty hand along his trousers. Hermione however took the gesture as him being appalled by them holding hands. Her heart sank a bit. "I have to go. I've got work to complete. See you tomorrow Granger." She watched as he left, gently closing the door behind him.
Only after he left did she allow herself to crumble, she sat at the edge of the bed, her face in her hands as she re-enacted the past three minutes in her mind. Her heart thump madly in her chest, her breath short and her palms sweaty. These reactions, she hadn't felt them since...
Well, since Harry.
Author's Note
Oof. So I am very very late, Im sorry about that please find it in your heart to forgive me! I've just been very busy with work.
I wanted to do a double update to make it up to y'all but I still haven't finished chapter 10. Forgive me!