Feels Good To Get Away, a tale from the saddened mind of M.T.Froste
Well, another overwhelming response to the last chapter and there seems to be a lot of pro-hand crushing out there. That's interesting. But I say yes, definitely, I'm all for a good hand crushing. Now, for those of you who were a little distressed and confused over Draco's sudden exit last chapter, fear not, all is explained.
Without further ado, enjoy etc. - Madley.
-CHAPTER SIX-
Hermione leapt up from the couch as she heard the door open. She watched as Harry pulled the canvas bag from his shoulder and dumped it carelessly to the floor. There was a definite crack that could only have meant glass breaking as the bag hit the ground. Her eyes flicked from the bag to Harry, who didn't seem to register what the sound had meant, let alone hear it.
Something was definitely wrong. She had been waiting for him to come home and possibly have a good shout at her for letting herself into his house without his permission, especially after what had passed between them that morning. But now…
"Harry," she said softly.
The green eyes frowned and he slowly turned to see her for the first time.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," replied the boy, "I'm fine, nothing's wrong."
He dropped the sketchbook onto the coffee table and a few loose pages fluttered to the floor.
Harry slumped down into his soft warm couch and put his head in his hands. No, this wasn't what he needed. He suddenly got to his feet and walked past Hermione and her distinct look of concern.
"I'm going to have a shower," he called out walking down the hall and up the stairs. "And stop worrying. I'm fine."
Hermione shook her head. She'd get it out of him soon enough.
She went over to the bag at the door and looked inside to inspect the damage. Shattered glass littered the bag's insides. She carried the bag to the dining room and dragged the wastepaper bin from the corner of the room to beside the table. Carefully she emptied the contents of the bag onto the table making sure no shred of glass escaped.
She cautiously went about pulling paintbrushes and pencils from the debris and putting them in organised piles. A few tubes of paint had been punctured and would have to be binned. She was sad to see that the watercolour tin she had given Harry for Christmas was now smeared with paint and most of the tubes that had been ruined had been from her too. But it felt good to know he used them.
She brushed all the glass into the bin and any remaining bits of rubbish: pencil sharpenings and the like. She then opened up the watercolour tin and carefully removed the paint tray, the pencils and paintbrush. Both the tin and canvas bag needed to be washed so neither would stain with the paint.
In the kitchen she filled the sink with hot soapy water and put both tin and bag in to soak. She then went back through the dining room, down the hall and into Harry's bedroom to the large cupboard in the corner of the room. She pulled the door open to reveal a mass of art supplies. She grinned as she read her way through the different types and colours of paints, paper, pencils and dyes. She always loved looking in this cupboard. She spotted the exact same colour paint as the tubes that had been destroyed, shifted the easel aside and grabbed a tube of each. Looking around the cupboard she decided to get Harry another paintbrush and pulled open a few of the small drawers on one shelf. Inside the drawers were arranged like cutlery drawers, with a different section for each type and size of brush. She selected a thin .5 bristle after noticing that Harry's current one was looking slightly dead.
"Can't keep you away from that cupboard, can I?" said a voice from behind.
Hermione closed the drawers, "You better be decent, Harry. I don't want to turn round and find my best friend standing there naked."
Harry laughed, "Don't worry, you'll be spared."
" 'You'll be spared'? Sounds as though if I turn round and check I'll find you starkers, but god won't have the urge to strike me with lightning."
"Of course he won't." Harry wandered over to his chest of draws towelling off his hair. He dropped his towel around his waist and quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and crumpled jeans, "Because we all know it's your sick dream to see a gay man naked."
He laughed silently as Hermione suddenly stood bolt upright.
"Just tell me if I can turn round already," she said in an agitated voice.
"OK," Harry pulled a jumper over his head.
Hermione walked over to him jabbing a finger into his chest, "Even if my 'sick dream' was to see a gay man naked, it most certainly would not be you."
"Oh, so you're not denying that you would like to," Harry pointed out grinning.
Hermione let out a frustrated scream and left the room yelling back, "You're sick Harry!"
Harry rolled his eyes, closed the cupboard door and picked up a paint tube Hermione had dropped. He put the paint on the table with everything else and went into the kitchen.
"Had dinner?" he called out.
"No," Hermione walked into the room and hopped up on one of the benches.
"What do we feel like then?" Harry opened the pantry. "I can fix us up some bolognaise."
"Now that would be good," replied Hermione.
"So what were you doing in here when I got home?" Harry asked pulling some mince from the meat keeper.
"I got here at around five after work. I came to say sorry for this morning but I can come to the beach on Thursday, not tomorrow though because Lavender's still-"
"Oh yeah," Harry interrupted putting the fry pan on the stove and putting the mince on to cook, "I meant to drop by and apologise for that. I didn't mean to get so upset about it all."
"Yeah, I figured that," said Hermione watching Harry dice an onion. "So I came and I'd been waiting outside for over an hour and it was starting to get dark and pretty cold too, so I let myself in- the key's over there on the dresser- and I sat around for a bit and then it was eight and you still weren't home. I started thinking maybe you hadn't gone to the beach in the end, that maybe you'd gone off to the forest again and were staying the night. But then I found that the tent was still in the cupboard and I started to get worried and thought I should probably stick around to make sure you got home alright and nothing was wrong."
"Yeah, I was at the beach," said Harry. Hermione noticed the laughter that had been in his voice before had disappeared.
"What happened?" she voiced the question carefully so as not to sound to eager or nosy to know.
"I met young Fortescue's owner," Harry scraped the onion from the board into the pan.
Hermione grinned, "What did you think of him? I think he's great. He's a lot like you, you know." Hermione saw Harry wasn't smiling, that was odd. "Didn't you two get along?"
"Oh no, complete opposite really," Harry chucked some basil and tomato into the pan and began pushing everything back and forth with the spatula. "Everything was going great, apart from stepping on his hand."
Hermione watched as a smile came to Harry's lips and laughed, "You didn't do it purposely, did you?"
"No," Harry turned and rolled his eyes at her. "Jesus Hermione, I can just imagine it," he put on a sarcastic voice, "Oh look there's Fortescue's owner, I wonder what the best way to get his attention would be? Ah! I've got it, I'll practically break his fingers and see what kind of reaction that gets me." He raised an eyebrow to Hermione before turning back to the pan shaking his head.
Hermione laughed, "Are his fingers alright?"
Harry shrugged.
"So what happened after the finger incident?' she persisted.
"As I said, everything was going fine and then," Harry frowned at the wall in front of him, "I don't know, I must've said something wrong or something 'cause suddenly he went sort of funny. Then he said he had to go all of a sudden and left."
"Did he say why?"
Harry shook his head and pulled a packet of pasta from the pantry. "That's why it must've been something I said, but I don't know what, I mean everything was going so well."
"OK, so, tell me what you were talking about before he went funny," Hermione watched Harry fill a pot with water and set it to boil.
"Um…" Harry closed his eyes and leant back on the bench. "I was painting his hand and he asked why, I explained how I capture things…" He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, "He asked what my name was and I told him. I think that was when he became kind of distant."
"Aha, anything else?" Hermione was pacing up and down the room biting her lip.
"He put his head in his hands and was saying something but I couldn't hear. I put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched, that probably wasn't the best thing to do. And that's when he left, just said 'I have to go' and walked off."
"So it was only once he learnt your name that he changed his attitude towards you…" Hermione suddenly felt guilty. The conversation she had had with Draco yesterday probably hadn't had Harry come across as the greatest of people. "Um, Harry?"
"What?" Harry had been watching the girl carefully and it was pretty clear she knew something he didn't.
"I, ah, I may be the cause for…" she trailed off.
"What?" Harry gripped her by the shoulders, "What have you done?"
"Well, we'd been cooking you see and you know how cooking puts me in such a positive state of mind," she glanced up at Harry hoping for a laugh or stab at her cooking skills but after not receiving one, she went back to inspecting the back of her hand, "Basically, the way I told him about you may not have been the best first impression for someone to have."
"Shit Hermione. What did you say?"
"It was the cooking's fault really, I was in a pretty ticked off mood after our cake didn't work and so I think I might've been focussing a bit too much on some of your worse traits when describing you."
"Oh," Harry turned round and went back to putting the pasta into the pot.
"I'm sorry Harry. I didn't know he'd take in everything I was saying like that. Most of the stuff I didn't really mean."
"Like what?" Harry ladled up some of the sauce and tried some, then grinded some pepper over the lot.
"You being such a bastard for always harassing my cooking skills for one."
"But you know I'm not serious when I say those things," he pulled two bowls from the cupboard and began scooping pasta into both.
"I know that, yes, but the way I said it may not have sounded as though I did," Hermione looked guiltily at Harry's back. "Don't worry, I'll fix things Harry."
"Fix things just like you messed things up in the first place?" Harry muttered ladling the meat and sauce on top.
Hermione scoffed, "I didn't know I was messing things up. But I know what I'll be doing this time. Besides it's a lot easier to tell someone the good traits about Harry James Potter than the bad."
"That's a plus," Harry said walking to the table with a bowl.
Hermione picked up hers and followed, "You don't sound very optimistic."
"Funny that."
"Oh come on Harry. It'll be fine, trust me, I'll have it all sorted out."
Harry sighed and sat down at the table, "OK, but just don't screw things up even more."
"I won't," Hermione promised.
Hermione left Harry that night in a slightly better mood. He'd cheered up over dinner and even showed her his picture of Draco's hand- 'The still amazingly exquisite hand of Draco Malfoy after being rudely crushed by me'- she had to laugh at his choice of title.
"I think you should give it to him," she announced, examining the painting, "It's really good."
"Do you think he'd want it?" Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder at the picture.
"Of course," she put the painting back on the coffee table and walked towards the front door.
"But why would anyone in their right mind want a picture that'll remind them they had their fingers broken," Harry followed her to the door.
"Oh I don't know. C'mon Harry, it's just nice to give someone something that was made especially for them and only them."
"Mmm. I'll think about it," he pulled open the front door and the cold air sprang into the house.
"And Harry, Mum and Dad would like to know if you're still up for coming around for dinner tomorrow. Dad especially, keeps talking about having more men in the house for a change."
Harry laughed, "Tell them I'll be there."
"Excellent." And perhaps, she thought to herself, I'll get someone else to be there too.
---
Draco woke from his restless sleep to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. He rolled over and glanced at the clock on his bedside table: 7am, Christ.
He was reluctant to leave the warmth of his bed but whoever was at the door was being annoyingly persistent and their knocks were growing louder.
Dragging his sleep infested body from under the covers he was hit with the icy morning air causing his body to explode with goosebumps. Figuring he wasn't particularly comfortable in answering the door in only a pair of boxers and bed socks he grabbed the closest pair of jeans and a thick grey jumper.
"I'm coming!" he yelled out causing the knocks to finally stop. "For god's sake I'm coming," he mumbled. The cat looked up with wide eyes as he came out of the bedroom and led him down the hall to the front door.
He wrenched open the door ready to yell at whoever it was for interrupting his sleep. It hadn't been good sleep, it felt like he'd only just managed to doze off when the knocking started, but still it was the principle of being woken for no important reason. "What?" he said irritably, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Wake you, did I?" Hermione grinned at him.
Draco had to resist the urge to scream at her for showing up unannounced at 7am in such a happy mood and ruining any chance he had of getting any sleep today.
"Yes," he spat, glaring at her and wondering how the hell anyone could be in such a good mood at this hour.
"Sorry, but I've got something I have to show you," she walked past him and into the house.
Draco groaned, "Can't it wait?" He followed her into the lounge.
"No, I have to be at work in an hour. So it's now or never." She sat down on the couch.
"Fine," Draco said collapsing into a chair. He was still annoyed but was now slightly curious at what she wanted to show him.
Hermione smiled before pulling a large book from her bag. Draco leaned in closer as she put it on the coffee table. It was a photo album.
"What's this?" he asked looking up at her.
"Visual aid," she got up and sat down on the floor next to his chair, putting the photo album on his lap.
Draco looked down at it. Written on the front in curly gold print was H&H through the years…
He frowned, "Hermione, what is this?"
"Open it," the girl suggested.
Draco carefully turned the cover page and found himself looking at two photos on the first page. The top one consisted of a group of six people: four adults and two children. The little girl had her hair in two bushy pigtails and was smiling sweetly. The two adults behind her could only have been her parents. But those three hadn't been the ones who had caught Draco's eye. Next to the little girl was a grinning boy with sparkling green eyes behind a pair of round glasses and messy dark hair. He was the spitting image of the man standing behind him but had the eyes of the woman with her arm around him in a protective manner that was smiling fondly at him.
"Is that…"
"Harry," said Hermione beaming, she had been watching where the grey eyes had been resting the whole time. They had looked at the little girl first, thenthe parents but had remained on the little boy the longest.
"He has glasses on," said Draco dragging his eyes away from the first photo and down to the second of just Harry and Hermione. Harry was lying on the grass and looked to be screaming with laughter with the little girl leaning over him and tickling him senseless. "Why doesn't he-"
"Contacts," Hermione said simply her smile growing even broader as Draco looked at Harry being tickled to death and began to smile.
He turned the page.
"Oh, now this is one I wanted to show you," Hermione pointed at the photograph in the top right hand corner. It showed the two of them around ten years old. Hermione had her arm in a cast and Harry had his in what looked to be a homemade sling. "This is when we jumped from the roof. Harry felt so bad that I broke my arm when I hadn't even wanted to do it. But he convinced me it was safe and I'd be alright- he has this ability to easily win people over, it's quite annoying- and besides he had already jumped and I wasn't about to look weak in front of him so I did it. When he found out my arm was broken he felt dreadful, so he decided for as long as I couldn't use my arm he wouldn't use his- hence the sling." She looked at Draco who seemed to be deep in thought.
As Hermione spoke Draco observed the ten year old Harry and was reminded of yesterday when Harry had offered to have his own fingers broken.
They went through a few more pages in the thick album Hermione occasionally pointing pictures out and explaining stories behind them.
At ten to eight Hermione got up, "I better get going I don't want to be late, but you can keep the album for now and have a look at the rest of the photos."
She smiled at the blonde staring at a picture of Harry attempting a handstand only to have his shirt fall down over his eyes, with her in the background pointing and laughing.
"Thanks," said Draco, "I'll get it back to you as soon as possible."
"How about tonight?" said Hermione her eyes full of mischief.
Draco looked up from the page and raised an eyebrow, "Tonight?"
"I told my parents about you and Mum insists you come over for dinner," Hermione smiled sweetly.
"Oh, ok," said Draco, "Sure, that'd be nice. I'll bring the album."
"Great," said Hermione cheerfully. She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a scrap of paper and pen and scrawled something across the paper. "Here's my address, is six-thirty good for you?"
Draco took the paper nodding, Hermione lived on Leopold Avenue, "You live near the station."
"Yep, it's easy to find. Well I'd better go. See you tonight."
"Bye," Draco put the address on the mantle piece and sat back down in his chair, slowly turning the album pages deep in thought and fascinated.
A/N: I don't think I'll be able to post again soon (although I will try) but school is starting again next week and exams are coming up and that will be my main priority until then. So if I haven't updated in ages don't worry I won't have deserted the story, just putting it on hold for a while, it shouldn't be too long. And the way I see it the longer I have to think about the next few chapters and where I'm going with it all the better it shall be.
Any questions still after this chapter or about anything I'm happy to answer and I promise to get back to you as soon as possible.
So until next time which will hopefully be soon -Madley