A/N: I just looked over the last chapter and realized how short it was. Sorry, everyone... I'll try not to let it happen again. :(
Anyway, since this is chapter seven, I would like to dedicate this chapter to all my reviewers, whom I am about to recognize.
hermyandron4evr: I still enjoy your reviews, please please PLEASE continue. :)
keys3033: I will try to make the chapters longer... I already have, actually, but will continue to do so.
rebecca: Well, Draco can't just be a hateful bastard forever, can he? Well, I guess he could, but NOT when I'm in control. hahaha!
To everyone that asked about Harry: He's busy, and I have a feeling that after we check in with Lupin and Dumbledore Harry will stop by for a visit.
To J.N. Cahill, jo, SlytherinGurl176, reflectivelvet, inkedwallpaper, dgirlm, callista, kitty253, Fallen4HPTF, SaTiNk06, innocent me, ditheringprat, jezebellerd 15, onetrueself, and Sallymander: thank you for the support and reviews, I love you all in a completely hetero, non-sexual way. Because I care for all of you so much, I've decided to give you some nutrition to sustain you through my stories. Everyone gets a donut. I've also prepared coffee and have some apple cider available.
Cheers!
Lupin sat down at the table with his stew. Tomorrow night was the full moon, so he tried to enjoy every bite while he could. He was going to be sick for the next three days. Though he was looking forward to a break from his duties for the Order, he didn't like the reason. Being a werewolf sucks. It wasn't the first time he thought it, and it wouldn't be the last. For the next three days, he would be curled in a ball back at the Shrieking Shack. It was nice and dark, but stank something fierce. Oh, well, it could be worse. I suppose. Maybe. Either way, he was enjoying the stew, but declined the biscuits; at this time of the month, he just wanted meat.
"Everything go all right tonight?" Hermione asked after about ten minutes of silence. Lupin realized he had been lost in his thoughts.
"No, unfortunately, just as expected." He looked at Hermione, asking her a question with his eyes. Does he know about the Order? How much should I say?
Hermione replied, "Well, you'll have to tell me the details later, because we have a guest." Translated, it meant: 'He isn't with Voldemort, but Dumbledore hasn't said anything to him or me about his role here yet.'
Draco saw the look being sent Hermione's way, and felt out of place. "You guys seem to have some catching up to do, I'll just head upstairs and get some sleep." He stood up and stretched.
Hermione noticed that the hoodie she had provided for him didn't seem to be big enough. When he raised his arms over his head, the bottom of the shirt rose up and revealed several centimeters of skin above the waist of his pants. It looked smooth and was pulled taut over a well-defined six-pack. The seams near his shoulders seemed to strain with the effort of not ripping in half. Cords of muscle stood out on his neck, and the sleeves seemed to get stuck on his bulging forearms. Hermione didn't realize it, but she was staring at him, mouth open, shock written all over her face. When did that happen? He was always skinny at school. He didn't even look that good when he got out of the shower earlier. What the hell? She shook her head. And since when do I care?
She felt slightly disgusted with herself. However, she still had manners, and invited Draco to stay and have a cup of hot chocolate before going to bed.
"Well, sure, if I'm not intruding," Draco answered her. He also had manners, which was why he tried to excuse himself from the room. Now that she mentioned hot chocolate, though, he was staying, even if he had to fight her for a cup. Chocolate was his favorite and he always felt better after indulging in any form, whether it be a piece of Honeyduke's finest or chocolate sauce on an ice cream sundae. Some people said things like, "Chocolate is chocolate". Draco hated these people. They had no subtlety. Draco said to these people, "That's like saying 'a broom is a broom'. Would you rather have a Comet or a Firebolt?"
Anyway, he was enjoying his first cup, savoring the smooth path it made from his lips, down his throat, and to his stomach. He made a mental note to thank Hermione later. What? WHAT did I just say? THANK her? He took a deep breath. Yes, thank her, you idiot. This is probably the best hot chocolate you've ever had, and you are going to thank her so she will make you some more. Idiot.
Draco drug himself back to the conversation Hermione was having with Lupin. "... and that's what happened. Have you heard from Tonks?"
"No, not yet, but she should be here later to check in. However, I don't have the time to wait, I need to go home and prepare for tomorrow night." He gave Hermione a slight grimace. "Give her my best, would you?" Hermione agreed, and Lupin stood up. Draco also stood up, nodding his head at Lupin when told 'good night'. He looked about the room to see where Hermione had gotten to with his chocolate.
She was standing by the fireplace, her back to him, doing something over the fire. He waited until she was done before he spoke. "I wanted to thank you."
Hermione looked surprised. Wha? Thank me? Why? What did I do? "Um, okay. You're welcome," she said, looking politely bewildered. Draco decided to elaborate.
"Well, first and foremost, thank for the hot chocolate. I think it's nearly, if not the best I've ever tasted."
Hermione flushed a dull pink.
"Thanks. My grandmother showed me how to do it, and I always liked it better than the powdered stuff." She shrugged. "My parents are both dentists. They're, um, kind of like Healers, except just for teeth and sore throats and such. They don't like me to eat chocolate."
"Well, that sounds stu-er, um, strange. Chocolate is one of the most wonderful foods ever created."
Hermione laughed. That sounds beautiful, kind of like a pocket full of gold. Except better. "I have to say I agree, but only if it's good chocolate."
"You can tell the difference?" Draco couldn't believe his ears.
"Well, of course. Anyone with half a brain can tell the difference between waxy chocolate and wonderful chocolate." She cocked her head at him. "Did you think I only had a quarter of a brain?" she teased.
"Well, I was wondering, but I will wonder no longer. How do you make this, exactly?"
"I heat milk over the fire, then when it steams, I add little pieces of chocolate."
"Milk? Really?"
Hermione laughed again. "Well, of course. What did you think I would use, butterbeer?"
"Well, most people use pumpkin juice."
Hermione wrinkled up her nose. "That sounds kind of disgusting."
Draco replied, "Well, it depends on the quality of the chocolate and how warm the juice is when it's added. Sometimes, it's not so bad, but it's definitely better than when people just use water." Hermione pulled a grotesque face. "Well, yeah, it tastes about as good as it sounds." Draco chuckled. "You know, if you don't stop it, your face is going to be stuck that way."
That caused Hermione to snort. When she heard what came out of her nose, she broke out in peals of laughter. "Shut (laugh) up, you (laugh)." Draco was now laughing so hard, he was grabbing his stomach. He nearly slipped off his chair, which caused Hermione to laugh even harder. She snorted again, and Draco bent over double. This amused Hermione further until her brain caught up with her. This is DRACO MALFOY. This jerk tried to make your life hell for seven years. This is the first time you've seen him in years and the first thing he does is proves he's still the same little dillweed you grew up with. Not two hours later, you've sang with him and now you're laughing with him? Have you LOST YOUR MIND?
No, she replied. I know exactly where my mind is. It's giving me a lecture, and I'm about ready to kick it in the face. This is the best I've felt in I don't know how long, and you're trying to ruin it for me. WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?
Draco noticed Hermione wasn't laughing anymore. She still had a smile on her face, but her eyes were devoid of all emotion. They sort of reminded him of his mother's blank eyes after she died. Dammit, where did that come from? I was doing so good... I actually almost forgot. He abruptly quit laughing, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. No, I am tired of feeling like that. I will NOT feel things like that anymore. I've done nothing wrong. I'm simply enjoying time with a friend. He tried that out in his mind. A friend. He hadn't had one of those in... well, quite a while. Blaise had gone and gotten himself thrown in Azkaban, which he promptly escaped from, but no one had ever heard from him since. Yeah, he was allowed to have a friend.
Hermione suddenly became aware of the silence. In an attempt to break it, she asked Draco if he wanted more hot chocolate. He looked up and she saw a strange look in his eyes. It made her slightly uncomfortable.
"Yes, actually, I'd love more."
Hermione jumped up from her chair and took his mug, along with her own over to the fireplace. She ladled more of the delicious drink into each of their cups and walked back to the table. Draco still had that strange look on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"What what?"
"What's the look on your face for?"
"Well, I've been thinking. After tonight, what with the, well, everything that happened, I was wondering..."
"What?" Hermione didn't know where this was going, but she wasn't sure she was going to like it.
"Would it be okay if I called you my friend?"
Hermione didn't know what to say. She was shocked. Malfoy? Friends? With me? Well. Hmm. "I don't know," she replied honestly.
"Well, if you don't want to, just say so." Some of the attitude Draco had always given her was now present in his voice.
"A lot's happened tonight. You've had a really long day, and... I don't know. Let me sleep on it, okay?" she asked.
Draco sighed. He was tired. Maybe this was all just a figment of his imagination. He thought he had found someone that might understand him. Maybe it was just the chocolate talking. "No, never mind. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Hey, wait. Please don't be like that. We kind of did share something. I just need a little time to think it over. I can tell you I'll be nice to you, though," she said with a trace of a smile.
That's probably the best I'm going to get tonight. "Fine, whatever." He was done talking about it. Either she would or she wouldn't. He wasn't going to make her. He took a sip of his drink. "What kind of chocolate do you use?"
"Well, it's hard to come by, and it's not exactly cheap, but it's wonderful. It's called Frango chocolate. The first time I had it was in the United States." She continued to talk about it for a bit. They ended up having a discussion about the merits of various kinds of chocolate they had each tried over the years.
About an hour later, Draco was feeling quite drowsy, and had drank the last of the chocolate. The two sat near the fire in a comfortable sort of way. He looked over the table at Hermione, who had dozed off. Her hair was spread about her head, covering the parchment she had been taking notes on. It didn't look like the position she was in was very comfortable, so he walked over to her chair and picked her up. She didn't make a noise, just snuggled into his chest. He felt a pang of some unidentifiable emotion, which he pushed away to examine later. Much later. He was tired of this slew of feelings that had suddenly popped up. So instead, he made his way upstairs to lay her down.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he paused. Where is her room? Oh, shit. Now what? He decided he'd just put her down in the room he had been in earlier, since he knew no one else would be in there, then go look for her room. He'd just come back and get her when he found it. Satisfied with his plan, he made his way down the hall.
He laid her down without waking her up, which was a miracle in itself, since he was not the stealthiest (is that even a word?) person he ever met. He had nearly knocked her head on the wall three times trying to get the door open, then accidentally dropped her on the bed. She just rolled over and curled up.
She looks so peaceful. I'll just leave her here for tonight. She'll find her room tomorrow when she gets up.
That left only one problem: where was he going to sleep? I'll sleep... somewhere. I saw a couch downstairs. It shouldn't be too bad for one night. He thought he better pull the blankets up over her so she didn't freeze during the night.
When he bent over, she rolled over and her eyes cracked open. She focused her eyes on him before asking, "What are you doing in my bed?"
He just looked at her. "I'm not. You are in my bed."
She peered at him for a minute. "Okay. Well, I'm not getting up, and I'm definitely not allowing you in my room. You can stay in here. I won't tell." She yawned and rolled over.
He stared at the back of her head for a minute. What? She didn't know if she wanted to be his friend, but had just invited him to sleep with her? What the hell?
She rolled back over and looked at him from tired eyes. "Well? You getting in or what?"
A/N: Wouldn't you like to know? Ha ha ha, another evil cliffie... I am the Goddess of evil cliffies. I am also the Goddess of Warm Crusty Rolls and Delicious Chicken Gravy. Don't ask.
Why are there donuts left over? Eat up or they'll get stale! (licks her fingers) Oh, shit. I have to clean my keyboard. Okay, you know the drill.
Stickily,
-Kat
P.S. Too late, donuts are gone. The bf ate them all. However, if you go to my other story, there might still be some left... nudge, nudge, wink, wink
