Hello! In light of all this Covid-19 stuff going around I wanted to write a fun little quarantine fic. I was originally writing this for a fest that I saw on Tumblr, but the date for that came and went. I still wanted to write it though. It's nearly written and will probably be around four chapters total, but each chapter will be over 5k words. I hope you enjoy!
Remember, stay safe, stay at home, and wash your hands ;)

Day 1

"Granger, I have a case for you," Head Curse-breaker Williamson said as he stepped into her office, tossing a file onto her desk. "Draco Malfoy found something at his manor. He thinks it's cursed and wants someone to check it out."

Hermione looked at her boss curiously as she reached for the file. "Really? I thought all questionable artifacts were cleared from the manor years ago?"

Williamson shrugged. "Apparently he was going through stuff in his attic and found the item. Seems to be a few hundred years old."

Hermione read through the file quickly and gave a nod. "I'll head over there straight away." Glancing at her watch, she winced. "If it's nothing serious, I'll head home for the day. It's nearly five as it is and I promised Harry and Ginny I'd come over for dinner." She was lying, of course—Harry and Ginny were going away for the weekend, but her boss didn't know that and she knew if she didn't say anything, he'd expect her to come in later this evening.

"I appreciate it," Williamson said with a nod. "Come to my office first thing Monday morning and let me know what you find."

"Will do, sir," Hermione said as she rose from her seat and gathered her belongings.

A shiver ran up Hermione's spine as she appeared at the gates of Malfoy Manor, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the cold, January air. Sure, she had been here a few times since the war, having attended galas hosted by the Malfoy matriarch, but she could never quite forget what happened there during the war. Straightening her shoulders, she opened the gates and began her way to the front doors.

It had been five and a half years, and while the elder Malfoy was rotting in Azkaban, Draco and his mother, Narcissa, had been working hard to restore the Malfoy name into something more redeemable. They donated to nearly every charity, helped expand research and development at St. Mungo's, and assisted in the restoration of Hogwarts.

The castle was in pristine condition when Hermione returned for her eighth, and almost-too-quiet, year. Draco Malfoy hadn't returned but he did sit with his class during N.E.W.T. testing. He sat behind and to the left of her in the Great Hall where the testing took place and Hermione remembered glancing back a few times to study him. He looked healthier than the last time she had seen him at his trial, and she noticed he stood tall with pride once more. At one point, he glanced up and his eyes met hers. Instead of sneering like he always did, he gave her a quick nod and went back to his work.

Over the years, she saw Draco in the Ministry, usually during social events or if he was helping Harry and the other Aurors with a case. They even attended the same hangout at the Leaky sometimes and partook in idle small talk. Aside from that, she really wasn't sure what he did in his spare time.

Apparently it was going through the Manor's artifacts and finding possibly cursed objects.

Hermione approached the large doors of the Manor and raised her hand to knock, when the doors opened before she could even touch them. A small house-elf greeted her with a small bow and a squeaky, "Hello Miss. You must be's the curse breaker the master has requested."

Hermione smiled down at the elf and nodded, happy to see that the tea towel she wore looked clean and new and was large enough to cover her whole body.

"Yes, I am. Can you please tell Malfoy that I am here?"

"Yes, miss. Tippy will go gets him. Please wait here in the entryway."

With a pop, the elf was gone, and Hermione stood idly in the room, quietly assessing her surroundings.

The manor looked lovely and she knew that Narcissa Malfoy had gone to great lengths to do so.

Footsteps echoed down the hall and as they grew nearer, Hermione turned to face the direction they were coming from just as Draco entered the room.

"Granger?" he said questioningly. "They sent you? I was hoping they would have sent someone with more..." he waved his hand in her general direction. "experience."

Hermione pressed her lips together to keep from retorting something harsh. Instead, she nodded. "I assure you, Malfoy, I am more than capable in dealing with any cursed object you may, or may not have, discovered."

Draco scoffed slightly. "Oh it's definitely cursed. The dark magic emanating from it is very telling."

"Well, let's have a look then, shall we?" she said, walking past him and into the hall. "Where is it?"

"In the attic. I'm wasn't stupid enough to touch it so I left it where I found it," he informed, catching up to her and walking slightly ahead to lead the way.

Hermione followed the wizard up a set of stairs and down a long hall. The portraits seemed to watch them but were otherwise silent.

Draco looked sideways at her and seemed to have noticed that she was confused on how quiet the hall was. "I removed the more vocal portraits," he informed her. "These ones were smart enough to stop spewing hate every time I walked by."

Hermione looked at him with eyes widened in surprise. "What did you do with the other portraits?"

"Burned them," he said with a shrug.

"But… weren't they your family members?" she asked.

"Yeah, but they were arseholes and I didn't want them around anymore. I'd like to move past all that bigotry and they were making it difficult." He shook his head as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I won't allow my future children to be around that, not like I was."

Hermione nodded slowly, impressed with his maturity but unsure of what to say as they continued their walk.

At the end of the hall, Draco pointed his wand to a spot on the ceiling and an opening materialised along with a ladder that unfolded itself.

"Ladies first," he smirked, gesturing towards the ladder.

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled, grateful she wasn't wearing a skirt, and started the climb up.

The attic was as big as her flat, if not more so. There were piles of boxes along the walls, trunks of all sizes spread all around, garment racks filled with clothes from long ago, old cauldrons, and there was even an old music player that played records. Hermione itched to inspect all the things hidden up here, but Draco had entered the room and motioned to the other side. "It's over here," he said. "I found it in an old hat box that belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother."

Draco lifted an old hat box from the ground, placing it on top of a small table that he transfigured from an empty trunk. With her wand at the ready, Hermione nodded and he lifted the lid.

Hermione glanced down at the seemingly ordinary jewelry box, but Malfoy had been right— there was definitely something dark coming from within.

"Have you touched it at all?" she asked as she walked around the desk, looking closer at the object.

"I'm not an idiot," he said with a shake of his head. "As I said, I could practically feel the dark energy coming from it as soon as I lifted the lid of the hat box. I fire-called the Department soon after."

Hermione nodded. "That was smart. I'm going to levitate it so I can examine it closer. Stand back, just in case."

She heard Draco huff, but he did what he was told and stepped back about a few feet.

Using wandless magic, she lifted the cursed object from the hat box and Hermione took in all the details. The wooden box was plain on top, the edges darkened from age. The brass clasps, which must have been shiny at one point, were now tarnished and brittle looking. The sides were etched with hand-carved peacocks, their eyes sparkling with black stones. When she lifted the box further up to look under it, she gasped.

On the bottom of the box were carved runes.

"What did you find?" Draco asked, stepping closer.

"Runes," she stated. "I'm going to see if I can decipher them. Maybe it will give me a hint as to the curse that's inside."

Hermione moved the box closer so that the underside was directly in front of her. Without taking her eyes off of the box, she opened her shoulder bag and pulled out a notepad and pen, copying down the rune symbols.

"You wrote that one wrong," a voice next to her said. Hermione hadn't noticed that Malfoy had stepped up behind her so the suddenness, and proximity, of his words startled her.

Hermione jumped, making her lose her concentration on levitating the box, which promptly fell onto the floor. The lid burst open and both Hermione and Draco were blasted back by a large gust of magic, landing a few meters away.

Groaning, Hermione lifted herself up and watched as the jewelry box that once contained the curse disintegrated right before her eyes.

"Shit," she said, rushing forward. "No, no, no…"

"Granger..." Draco said hesitantly as he stood. "What just happened?"

Hermione whirled around and pointed at him. "You! You're what happened! I told you to stay away!" she yelled. "Now look! We got hit by a curse that I still don't know what it does!"

Pacing, Hermione muttered under her breath as Draco picked up her dropped notebook.

"Look, you were able to write it all down, so you can still study it—"

"We'll need to go into quarantine," she stated, opening her bag once more and digging around inside.

"What?" he asked, startled. "Why?"

"Again, we don't know what the curse does. It's for our safety as well as everyone else."

She pulled out an item wrapped in cloth and untied the twine, revealing a coin within.

Using her other hand, she picked up the coin, pressing it against her hand to activate it. The familiar tug at her navel gave her just enough warning before she grabbed Draco's wrist, and they were whisked away, leaving the attic of Malfoy Manor behind.

The suddenness of the Portkey caught Draco off guard, so instead of landing on his feet upon their destination, he landed flat on his arse.

"What the— Granger, where the hell are we?" he asked as he stood up, brushing off his trousers.

Hermione opened her arms wide as she continued to sit on the floor and said, "Welcome to my safehouse, Draco Malfoy."

Draco wrinkled his nose as he looked around. From what he could tell, they were in the middle of a small cabin, furnished only with a loveseat sofa, a bed the same size of the ones from their Hogwarts days, a kitchen with the bare essentials, and a table that sat one, possibly two, people.

"Your safehouse?" Draco asked incredulously, looking around. "Why do you have a safehouse?"

"As a curse-breaker it's standard protocol incase of emergencies," Granger said. "And since we still don't know what that curse did to us, I brought us here until I can find some answers."

Draco strode to one of the windows and his mouth dropped open.

They were surrounded by trees. And snow. "Where exactly is your safehouse located?" he asked, still peering outside.

"Outskirts of Forest of Dean. This was my dad's hunting cabin, back when… when he used to hunt. I figured it would suit well for what I needed."

He turned back around to watch as Granger rifled through her shoulder bag once more, this time with her entire arm submerged within.

"Undetectable extension charm?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Yes. I'm looking for— ah-ha! Found it," she said as she pulled out a thick book and laid it on the floor. She glanced back up at Draco and motioned towards his hand. "Can I have my notebook back?"

Draco looked down, forgetting that he was even holding onto the notebook in the first place, and thrust it into her outstretched hand.

Running a hand through his hair, he paced the room before he finally noticed the fireplace.

"Is that connected to the Floo?" he asked, pointing to it.

Granger didn't even look up from her book as she spoke, "It is, but it's not turned on."

Draco cursed under his breath. "Why the hell not?"

Granger huffed and looked at him. "As I said before, this is a place to quarantine myself in. If I'm infected with something, I don't want anyone coming over and risk them getting infected as well. It's turned off until I know it's safe."

He hated that what she said made sense, but that didn't stop him from grumbling.

"Well, it's bloody cold in here, so if it's alright with you, I'm going to start a fire," he said, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

Granger made a noncommittal noise that Draco took as consent and pointed his Hawthorn wand into the grate, casting the spell.

When nothing happened, he frowned, and cast it again.

And again.

"Uh, Granger…"

"Not now, Malfoy, I'm trying to figure out—"

"Granger!" he snapped. "My magic's not working."

Hermione looked at him and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I tried to cast a bloody fire spell and nothing happened. Don't tell me there's wards around this cabin that prevents magic from happening."

Granger shook her head as she finally stood up. "No, there isn't." She pulled out her own wand and pointed it towards her book. "Accio book."

Nothing happened.

With a sharp intake of her breath, Draco heard her mumble "Oh no…"

"What is it?" he asked as he watched her snatch up the book and flip through the pages hurriedly.

"I think I know what curse this is," she said, her eyes skimming the current page she was on before flipping to the next.

"And that would be?"

"I don't want to say until I know for sure," she said.

Draco snatched the book from her hand. "What curse, Granger?"

"Give me back my book, Malfoy," she said, trying to pull it back, but Draco moved it out of reach.

"What. Curse. Granger?"

The witch crossed her arms and glared at him. "Give me back my book."

They glared at each other for a moment before Draco shoved the book into her chest.

He watched as she took a seat on the sofa and flipped through the pages again, running her finger along the text until she finally found what she was looking for.

She looked up slowly at him and bit her lip. "My assumptions were right… I know what we were hit with."

"And?" Draco asked irritably. "What is it?"

"The Magicea Deleo Curse," she said as she continued to read.

Draco felt himself pale at the words, though he really wasn't sure why. "And what does this curse….do?" he asked hesitantly.

"Translated, it simply means 'magic erasing.'"

"You mean we—"

"Lost our magic, yes," she said with a soft nod. "There is good news though… it's not permanent. It says here that those who are cursed get their magic back within a week."

"A week?" Draco repeated. "So we have no magic for a week? I suppose that isn't too horrible—"

"We're also stuck here as well, seeing as how we can't Apparate or turn on the Floo to return to our homes."

Draco scoffed and called out, "Tippy!"

He waited a moment before calling for his house-elf again, "Tippy! Come here, please."

"It's not going to work," Granger said matter-of-factly.

"Why? The curse didn't affect her, only us. She should be able to use her own magic to come get us," he stated. "Tippy!" he yelled again.

"Malfoy, we lost our magic," she explained slowly, as if talking to a small child, or Ron. "House-elves bonds are tied to our magical core. Without your magic, there's no way for her to hear or find you."

Draco's eyes widened. Shit.

"So that means we're stuck here… together… Without magic…. For a week?" he asked slowly.

"Yup," she said with a sigh, leaning back against the sofa. "Or at least until Monday when Williamson realizes I'm not in."

"But how did the Portkey work if we don't have magic? Maybe we can use it to get back?"

"It's a special Portkey, it activates by touch. The magic needed to work was already cast on it."

Feeling suddenly light headed, Draco sat down next to her. "Where exactly did this curse come from any way?"

"Well," Granger said, sitting up and pulling the book closer. "It says here that a couple of centuries ago, a Muggleborn wizard by the name of Reginald Winthrop was accused and tried for sending cursed objects to Pureblood families. Apparently, he was upset that he was treated unfairly simply because of his blood status and wanted to get back at those who wronged him."

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head, groaning.

"Right, so, first things first, we need heat. Luckily, I had already stored some logs outside on the porch with a few already chopped. And there are matches in one of the kitchen drawers, so it shouldn't be too hard," she said, standing up.

"Is there even food here? Or change of clothes at least?" Draco asked.

"Yes and yes, though the change of clothes are in my size since I wasn't expecting to be here with anyone else," she said with a shrug. "I'm sure I can find something though. I believe there's a trunk in the closet with some of my father's things."

She opened the door and stepped outside coming back within moments with an armful of chopped wood.

"Just out of curiosity," Draco asked as he walked over to her to take some of the wood, "How far away are we from the nearest town?"

"About a two days walk," she stated. "There is a fishing hole nearby, though it's probably frozen over this time of year. Lucky for us, my father taught me all I needed to know about ice fishing."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Fishing? I thought you said you had food."

Granger knelt in front of the fireplace and started piling the logs into it. "I do, but not enough for the two of us to last a week, and I'm sure the stasis charm I placed on them probably lifted as soon as I lost my magic, so we'll need to eat a few of the things within a day or so. Can you grab the box of matches? They're in the kitchen, the last drawer on the right."

Draco took the few steps to the so-called 'kitchen' and retrieved the matchbox. He tried not to grumble as he handed them to Granger then stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What can I do to help?" he asked.

To Granger's credit, she didn't look nearly as surprised as she let on. Her eyes widened slightly at his offer before she gave him a hesitant smile. "We'll be needing some more firewood for tonight. I only chopped a bit the last time I was here, but there's loads more that need to be cut."

Draco nodded. "Right, I'll, uh, go do that."

She gave him an amused look. "Have you ever chopped wood before?"

Draco tried not to scoff. "No, but it can't be that hard."

The witch had the gall to chuckle at him. "Alright, well, one of my father's old jackets is on that coat hook. It should fit you. The axe and chopping stump are just off to the side of the porch."

He ignored her amused tone as he found the coat and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.

Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy, was currently outside, chopping logs of wood.

Or at least, he was attempting too.

Her father's coat was long gone as beads of sweat dripped from the Wizards forehead while he swung the axe again, nearly missing the log.

Letting out a string of curses, Draco adjusted the log on the stump and lifted the axe once more.

This time he sliced it right in the middle; a perfect cut. It had taken him nearly twenty minutes, but he finally got it.

He set the axe down, tossing the chopped wood to the side as he grabbed another log.

When he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, Hermione felt a jolt of something, but chose to ignore it in favor of watching the tall, blond man swing the axe once more.

When he made another successful chop, he looked up and smirked in her general direction. She squeaked at having been caught and moved away from the window, covering her mouth with her hand to hold in her laughter.

"You know, if you're not too busy spying on me, you can always help," Draco called out.

Hermione moved back to the window and opened it slightly. "I wouldn't want to get in your way. You're doing so well after all," she called back.

Malfoy grumbled something intangible, making Hermione snigger.

"I'll put the kettle on so when you're done you can warm up," she called out, closing the window so as to not let any more of the cold in.

As Hermione rummaged through her cabinets and filled up a kettle, she couldn't help but

worry her bottom lip at how they were going to make it through the week together.

She had enough non-perishable foods to get them by, and she wasn't lying when she said she could ice fish if need be, but other factors started to give her pause.

Such as sleeping arrangements.

Lighting a match, she turned on the gas to one of the burners and lit it, placing the kettle on top as she contemplated what to do.

She only had one bed—which was just big enough for herself—and a lumpy, old sofa that had seen better days; the fabric was worn and faded and a spring was visible in one of the cushions. If she had her magic, she could have transfigured the sofa into another bed, or at least made it more comfortable.

She supposed she ought to do the polite thing and offer him the bed and she scrunched up her nose at the thought. Maybe they could take turns? For a brief moment she even contemplated sharing the bed, and the realization of just how intimate that would be gave her another jolt.

Hermione startled when the kettle whistle blew and she took it off the burner just as Malfoy entered the cabin, letting in a cold gust of air along with him.

"It's snowing again," he said as he brushed off fresh flakes from his oxford shirt, the coat slung over his arms instead of on him. "And I put the logs I cut on the porch."

"Thank you," she said sincerely as she watched him hang the coat and toe off his wet shoes. "I have tea, if you would like a cuppa?"

Malfoy nodded as he shivered slightly. "Please."

Hermione grabbed two mugs from the pantry, along with a container of different types of teas, and brought them over to the small table. Malfoy sat down and chose an earl grey, letting it steep in the hot water.

"I'm afraid I don't have any cream, but I do have some milk in the fridge and plenty of sugar," Hermione offered.

"Milk is fine, thank you," he said as another chill ran through him.

Hermione frowned and once she gave him the milk from the fridge, she went over to the sofa, taking the worn, knitted blanket that was draped over the top and handed it to him.

"You're cold," she said at his questioning look. "And it would do neither us any good if you get ill right now. I have basic medications and potions but my supply wasn't meant for—"

"For two people, yes, I get it Granger," he said irritably, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. "Look, I didn't ask to be here, you know. You're the one who grabbed onto me and brought me along."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at him. It wouldn't do well to start arguing again. Instead, she took a calming breath and said, "I apologize for that, but like I said before, I didn't know what the curse was or if it was contagious. I was just being cautious."

Malfoy sighed and leaned back against the chair. "I know you were." He took a tentative sip of his tea and Hermione saw some color return to his cheeks from the heat. "Let's just...try and get on for the duration of our stay here. As much as I enjoy our verbal sparring, I don't know if I can take a week's worth of it without..." he said, looking away, colour blooming on his cheeks again and Hermione wondered if it was from something other than his tea this time.

Hermione gave him an amused look. "Without what?"

"Nothing," he said dismissively with a shake of his head. "You said there was food, correct? We should probably start preparing something to eat for dinner before it gets too dark."

Looking outside, Hermione saw that the sun was starting to dip behind the trees. "You're right, it's getting rather late. How does chicken sound? I have some that needs to be cooked up."

Malfoy nodded and stood, drinking the rest of his tea. "I'll help."

They prepared dinner together and Draco was amused to see that Granger was surprised he knew his way around the kitchen. The meal was simple with grilled chicken and a side salad.

When they were done eating, Granger went around to light the kerosene lanterns that were scattered throughout, creating a soft glow in the one room cabin.

"You don't by chance have anything here to pass the time?" he asked as she lit the last lantern.

"I have a few books in my bag," she said offhandedly, then she broke into a smile and looked at him. "But I think there's some things in my dad's trunk."

The trunk was now located at the foot of the bed for easy access and Granger knelt before it as she lifted the lid.

She pulled out a few jumpers, tossing one to Draco. He slipped it on, the dark blue fabric soft from being worn so much, and watched as Granger pulled out a deck of cards, some board games, and puzzles from the bottom.

"Will this do?" she asked, spreading her finds on the ground.

Draco walked over and looked at them pensively before picking up a box.

"Care for a puzzle?" he said and his heart stuttered at the bright smile she gave him.

They set to work on the small dining table, picking out all the edge pieces first before tackling the middle. They talked about safe topics such as friends and work—Granger had admitted that she didn't know what he did in his spare time besides helping the Aurors and attending galas. He informed her that he was currently studying to be an alchemist so he spends a good portion of his day making potions. When he wasn't doing that, he picked up cooking as a hobby just to have something to do.

"You know, Harry and Ron sometimes play pick-up Quidditch games on the weekends. You should join them sometime," Granger mentioned casually.

"Potter mentioned it to be before, but I wasn't sure if I'd really be welcome, or if he was just being polite," Draco admitted with a shrug.

"If Harry invited you, then it was sincere. You should go next time," she said encouragingly.

"Maybe," he hedged.

"You can't just stay at the Manor all the time, Draco. You need to socialize more," she said matter-of-factly.

Draco gave her an amused look and watched as she fit two pieces together. "You called me Draco," he said.

Granger looked up at him and nodded once. "I did. I figured it's about time, don't you?" She raised a brow in challenge.

Draco smirked. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded, attaching a piece from his pile to hers.

A half hour later, Draco was stifling a yawn behind his hand. "I'm knackered," he admitted.

"Same," Granger said. "I suppose we should call it a night, then?"

He nodded and they both stood to walk towards the other side of the cabin.

Draco lifted his chin towards the bed. "You take the bed," he stated and Granger's eyes rounded in surprise.

"Are you sure?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Look, I may be an arse, but I was raised a gentleman," he said, dragging his fingers through his hair. He let out a tired sigh. "I'll take the sofa."

He turned to walk away when Granger grabbed his elbow lightly. He looked at her with a questioning frown.

"Thank you," she said quietly, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Um, I know it's not much, but the trunk also had a pair of lounge pants, if you'd rather sleep in those instead of your trousers?"

Draco gave a nod. "That'll be nice, thanks."

Granger rummaged through the trunk once more, procuring the lounge pants. She also grabbed her work bag and began rifling through there, pulling out two toothbrushes and some toothpaste, handing one to Draco.

With a nod of thanks, he went over to the small washroom to change and brush his teeth. He took stock of the area and though it was nearly as big as a broom closet at Hogwarts, he had to admit that it had all the necessities he needed— a loo, a sink, and a shower that he hoped had hot water in the morning.

When he emerged from the washroom, Granger had already changed into a pair of pyjamas that must have been stored at the cabin ahead of time, seeing as how they looked to be made of fleece.

Making his way to the sofa, he noticed that there was now a pillow along with the knitted blanket from before.

"I hope it isn't too uncomfortable," Granger fretted as she watched him sit on the sofa.

Draco moved into a lying position and tried not to groan when a hard spring pressed into his back.

"It's not horrible," he managed.

He moved around this way and that, trying to find a comfortable spot as Granger walked around the cabin, turning off all the lanterns and adding another log into the fire.

He closed his eyes and listened as she settled into the bed and rustled around before she let out a tired sigh.

"Goodnight," she mumbled sleepily.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said quietly, hoping that she fell asleep with a smile on her face.