A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).
The next week went by at a crawl and at the same time as a speeding train. Every day Hermione would meet him in his office at eight in the morning. From there they would travel to Spinner's End, where she would sit and watch him brew wolfsbane, occasionally helping by adding or chopping ingredients. From there he would attempt to gather the courage to ask her to lunch, as a sort of truce, but every day he failed.
On Wednesday, exactly one week and one day from when they started, he was sitting at the table counting out exactly thirty-six slow stirs while she chopped up the needed wormwood leaflets. "Granger, I was wondering if-"
"Can you pass the sharpener? This knife is mostly just tearing and the book says we need clean cuts." She hadn't looked up from her task, her curls tied up on her head in a tight bun, occasionally popping out from the humidity at the close proximity to the potion.
They were on the final stages of the brew. The color had just morphed into a light blue color, and now all they would have to do is add the final ingredients, let it simmer overnight, and then add the wolfsbane. Draco had lucked out, and found that Snape's stores had just enough for a batch of the potion, so he hadn't had to go shopping for the ingredients. Almost like his godfather was still looking out for him.
"Sure," Draco passed her the silver colored sharpener. She focused on sharpening the blade for a few seconds, before beginning her chopping again.
"I was wondering-" She broke off his sentence again, this time with a sharp intake of breath. Draco was about to ask her what was wrong when the smell of iron hit his nose. She is bleeding. Go to her. The wolf had been making itself known more often these days. Constantly in the back of his mind, pacing and demanding that he tell Hermione his condition. Of their shared connection. Especially, since he had missed last month's wolfsbane. Sometimes the urges were so powerful Draco feared he would make an arse of himself trying to show his feelings if he lost control. He had been able to ignore those urges thus far, but with the potential that she was hurt, he found that he couldn't, and worse yet he didn't want to.
He crossed to her side of the table quickly, "You're bleeding." He grunted, snatching her hand from its place near her chest.
"No, it's shallow I barely felt it," She protested, but as she spoke the words died down. Malfoy gingerly opened up the tight fist her fingers were now in, and slowly unfurled the digits. Her palm was full of blood, the pale skin now stained as if it had been dipped in wine. Now that the fingers were not bunched the cut opened up more and allowed the crimson liquid to drip onto the floor beneath their feet. "How did you-…Malfoy don't." She yanked her hand back, but he held on tightly so she couldn't remove it from his grasp. "You'll stain your shirt."
"It's just blood." Draco breathed out the words into the space between them. Hermione jerked her head up towards him in shock before searching his face. Unable to meet her gaze, he looked down at her thin finger, allowing the blood to run down his hand, and onto his crisp white oxford. The red invader slowly seeped into the fabric like ink blooming over water.
"Here," He summoned a small medi-kit that Snape had kept in case of cuts or burns. Rummaging through he grabbed a paste made from dittany, and a small bandage. Gingerly he washed her small wound with fresh water that was on the station, before rubbing the thick salve on her skin and tying the bandage.
She watched him, her eyes never wavering from his face while he concentrated on treating her. The wolf growled low in the back of his mind, pacing the length of its pen every second she was still hurt. Draco furrowed his brow as he fought the instinctual need to kiss and lick her wound better, instead settling on rubbing it slightly. The instincts shocked him, having not had these non-human urges before. He blamed it on spending more time with her. "There, that's better."
When he looked up, he was caught by the intensity of her eyes. She watched him, having leaned in towards him while he doctored her finger. "Just blood?" She asked, and when he nodded in response to her question she leaned forward slightly. They were so close they were practically sharing the air they were breathing. He watched her take a deep breath in through her nose, before her eyes fluttered shut. "Malfoy," She sounded breathless. She began to rise on her toes, reaching towards him through the space that might as well have been the size of the English Channel.
Draco leaned down towards her too, his breath ghosting her cheeks. He could feel the urge to kiss her lips, to taste them. Distantly a thought floated through his mind, reminding him that he didn't want this. This moment, however, he was lost to the need. The need to have her finally, after all this time.
That was until there was a knock on the door. Draco pulled himself away from her quickly and moved a step back. Shaking his head like he had been shocked, he adjusted his cufflinks before moving back towards the door. "Twiden's sorry to bother Master Draco, but there is a letter here from his Mother for Mistress Granger." Twiden's bony hand held up a cream colored envelope, his eyes glancing nervously between Draco and Hermione.
"Thank you, Twiden." Draco took the envelope from the nervous elf, and turned back to find Hermione cleaning up the blood that was still on the floor. She looked up at him when he closed the door.
"I think we can salvage enough worm wood without blood on it," She said, gathering up the chopped leaves and setting it aside.
"This is from my mother," Draco raised an eyebrow in question before handing her the envelope. She nodded, taking the parchment and opening it as if receiving missives from Narcissa Malfoy was something that happened every day for her. He added the ingredients while she read, and set the potion to a slow simmer.
"Bugger," Hermione huffed. Draco snickered at her swear, causing her to glance up quickly. She looked like she had forgotten Draco was in the room.
"Malfoy, do you know how much longer we will be here today?" She asked, hurrying around the room and packing up her bag. Draco watched her for a second before stirring the potion slowly in a back and forth pattern.
"Technically, we could leave right now and let it go until tomorrow. I like to stir it for a few minutes after the simmer to let the ingredients release some of their properties first but it's not necessary." He eyed her carefully as she flung her bag over her shoulder, "Why?"
"I have to go." She grunted, "Your mother requested a muggle stereo system for the gala. I thought it was a bit un-classy, but according to your mother, muggle technology is very in right now." She snarked, walking quickly towards the door. Draco cast a charm on the flame to keep it low, and make sure it stayed in its ring before following the ranting witch out. Her hair was puffing up and escaping her scrunchie as her anger grew, "This would all be fine except she requested I bring the stereo over to her 'post haste' so she could guarantee it works in the bloody manor."
Draco nearly tripped over his feet but recovered quickly and caught up to her as she was bounding down the stairs, flinging his cloak around his shoulders with a flourish, "You're going to the manor?"
"Yes."
"But-" The glare she gave him stopped the words in his throat. There were lots of things Draco could have said in that particular moment. He could have told her he would bring the stereo. He could have told her to tell his mother to piss off, and not bow to her request. He could have even told her he would not allow muggle contraptions into the most prestigious Malfoy Manor. He settled on, "Do you need help?"
She paused outside of Spinners End and turned back to him. "You want to help me?"
"If you need it."
"Well, actually the stereo system will be rather heavy, and I cannot cast lightening charms on it because I am getting it from a muggle store. Are you relatively fit?" Draco blinked at her several times. He thought about revealing it all then and there by saying 'Why yes Granger, I am fit enough to lift up a small desk without even trying, thanks to my slobbery companion'. Instead he allowed his face to take on a classic Malfoy smirk before sauntering over close to her.
"Yes, Granger. I am fit." She blushed a second, realizing what she had asked before nodding, and offering her arm. "OK, grab on." He did so with almost no hesitation. He didn't have time to ponder on this development before he was sucked into the bone crushing void of apparation.
They reappeared in a deserted alleyway. The loud rumble of muggle cars informed Draco that they were no longer in the wizarding world, and must have been on a busy muggle street. Hermione walked down the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. Draco strode along with her, trying not to gawk at the noisy metal machines as they sped down the road, appearing as if they were heading straight towards them. Hermione quickly proceeded down the sidewalk until she was standing beside one of the muggle cars, with a set of strange keys in her hands.
The car was small, with a deep blue paint and a strange symbol made of metal rings. Hermione adjusted the keys in her hands and then pushed a small button on a piece of black plastic. The muggle car emitted a high pitched beeping noise at them, causing Draco to take a nervous step back. "Granger?" Hermione looked up from where she was getting in the car, her hand still holding onto the door.
"Are you coming, Malfoy?" A small smirk adorned her face, before she slid into the seat with a circular object used for steering the car. Malfoy ran a hand through his hair nervously, taking a deep breath he crossed over to the other side and opened the door. Steadying himself, he sat down in a muggle car for the first time, praying that she was a decent driver.