~8~
"Can you turn the tv off?"
Hermione hummed distractedly as she reached for the remote. "Can you believe that?" she mumbled softly. "Illegitimate child — what a scandal."
She reluctantly pressed the power button and fell back on him, her head landing softly on his stomach. He grunted from the action but didn't say anything.
Which was unusual. He usually had something snarky to reply with.
She peaked at him through her lashes and he seemed engrossed in his phone. "What are you looking at?"
"The news."
"Which one?"
"All of them."
She frowned. "Why?"
He didn't answer.
They were always naked when they were together or, at the very least, partially so. Usually because when they did get together, they would have sex at least once and never felt the pressing need to clothe themselves. It was nice. It was intimate.
Hermione turned onto her stomach, her elbows draped over him, her arms supporting her head. Her hands splayed across his abdomen and she mindlessly started tracing circles on the skin between his fourth and fifth rib.
He didn't seem to notice.
"Is it about the Riddle family?"
Perhaps, because she was on him, she felt him tense. Or perhaps, because she was staring at his face, she saw his jaw clench. For whatever reason, she knew that this family meant something to his own.
"Does your father know them?"
Draco finally stared back at her and she could tell he was contemplating something particularly complex. She wondered how complex the answer could be to warrant 8 seconds — she counted — but his answer turned out to be rather simple.
"Yes."
She frowned. She knew that there was more to it than that. Should she press him?
He had turned back to his phone, scrolling through whatever the news was cycling.
It had been all over; Tom Riddle — murdered! Leaves everything to his only heir Riddle Jr.
Except, as the articles elaborate, no one had known he'd even had an heir. Not until the executor of his will had announced it at a news conference.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He paused at that and finally put his phone down. "You know I can't."
She knew. He never talked about his family. Not much, anyway. But she also knew he appreciated that she asked. He'd deny it, of course, except it wasn't the point.
She asked because she wanted him to know that if he could talk to her about it, she was there to listen and every time she did ask, he understood.
Hermione nodded her head and closed her eyes, nodding off to a dreamless sleep.
He brushed a thumb across her face and considered her for a long while after that.
