Draco had gotten down the gist of the Muggle appliances but the washer hadn't been one of them. He hadn't liked Hermione's outfit that much anyway and insisted on burning it.
Morning had come and gone, and the only thing he'd been able to get Granger to do was stay in the shower. He wouldn't bother her. He knew better than to bother women while they were in the shower. It only led to trouble. Or, he thought smirking, other things...
With the help of a witch-maid, he had clothes brought straight to the doorstep – you couldn't apparate in or out of the house, yes, like Hogwarts – for Hermione to change into. He called up the stairs several times and after shouting up the stairs, "Hermione Damn Granger!" he irritably trudged up the steps down the hall to the bathroom. Her name felt like poison on his tongue.
He went to knock on the bathroom door but stopped when he heard gasping noises and then sobs. Loud, horrible, awful, painful sobs that tugged at his heart strings and echoed in the hallway. He could just imagine her lying on the floor holding herself.
Her parents were just murdered, the voice in his head said. Idiot.
He let out a sigh and instead of knocking on the door and interrupting her mourning, he placed the clothes in the next room, her room, and left the hallway.
For now...
Hermione didn't come out for the rest of the day, not even to ask for supper. Dressed in a long sleeve white and collared shirt and black pants, he looked at the clock. It read 7:00pm. He'd been patient and done nothing but waited in the living hall for hours. He couldn't take it anymore and went upstairs to see what was keeping her couped up in her bedroom all day. Without even thinking he burst into her room, but the sight before him made him wish he hadn't. He stood rooted to the ground.
Hermione was laying in her bed, the satin sheets enveloping her body, clad in a beautifully sewn white night gown. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying for Merlin knows how long and her face looked pale. She looked like death, curled up and facing him. But she looked calm. She was silent.
"Granger?" The concern in his voice shocked him, even as he took a few steps toward the bed.
Hermione did not answer him and stared at his a space near his feet without blinking. It was eerie how she seemed to stare right through him.
Draco repeated her last name. This time she stirred. "Huh?" He had to be careful where he tredded now. Anything could set her off, or cause her to start sobbing again. He didn't want that. He cleared his throat. "I have dinner made if you'd like some. Surely you must be starving," he insisted. Not knowing what to do with his hands he placed them in his pockets.
Hermione softly shook her head, no.
His eyebrows raised. "No?"
"I'm not hungry," she said in a quiet voice.
"Are your clothes alright?" he added. He had to get her to eat something or she'd starve to death before she could help him.
"Yes, they're really lovely," she replied in the same quiet voice. She forced a momentary smile. "Thank you."
He made a mental note that she looked good in white. "Granger, listen to me, you've got to get out of bed. You can't starve yourself to death!" he said.
He mouth twitched again. "I won't. Can we talk tomorrow though? I'm exhausted."
He shook his head to himself. He could tell her no and try to force it out of her but he knew it would be no good. "Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, of course. And you'll eat something."
"Mm'kay." She rolled over and he was staring at her back now.
Draco woke up the next morning, and entered the kitchen (in his boxers) where Hermione was already there waiting at the table. Her appearance of looking like death hadn't changed much except for the fact that she wasn't crying right now. "Hello," she said in the same timid voice.
"Morning sunshine," he sarcastically said in a low voice. "What do you want for breakfast?"
"Do you have any muffins?" she piped up.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he said tiredly. He opened a cabinet, pulled out a fresh blueberry muffin, and placed it on a plate in front of her. He made some eggs for himself and brewed some coffee. Hermione had barely taken apart her muffin when he placed a cup beside her plate, seating himself.
"Thank you."
They ate in silence until the both of them had finished. Draco took the initiative to speak first.
"So..."
"If you're going to start going off about my parents, I'd rather you save your breath," she said in a firm voice.
"Well..." he said, a moment lost for words, "if that's what you need to talk about (or not) that's fine."
Before he even knew it she'd begun to cry again. "I don't even know what happened! Why are they doing this? Why'd they ruin my life?"
Draco had to think for a second of who "they" were. "The Death Eaters?" Voldemort was long gone since the end of their seventh year and it had been one long year since The End of the war. Apparently it wasn't over just yet.
Hermione didn't answer him, but just held her hands over her face.
Damn, he thought, I didn't get her to eat anything yet.
He heard her take a shuddering gasp of air and looked up. "What happened?" he asked. "Before I got there?"
She shook her head. "I c-can't remember much. The house caught fire and I was told to get out. I ran out of the house looking for my parents and they were no where to be found." The took a deep pause to breathe through her mouth. "Everyone was screaming and running and shouting and it was all just a horrible mess and I-I wanted to go back ... and save my parents but I just couldn't move."
He shifted in his chair. "You were in shock."
She nodded in agreement.
"And... and I knew they were gone when the house sort of... collapsed..." She made a downward gesture with her hands. "Crookshanks d-didn't... I mean, I don't know where he is either."
"Crookshanks?"
"My cat."
"Oh..." he said. The ugly orange fur ball that looked like it'd been beaten with a bed pan one too many times. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She shook her head with a forced grin. "You don't even care." With that she stood from the dining table and left to go upstairs.
In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must've crossed... you said...
You don't know me, you don't even care,
You said
You don't know me, you don't wear my chains...