Malfoy rose from his seated position with his hands in the air. Not a sign of surrender, rather a signal for her to know he was unarmed. Or at least didn't have the intentions to harm.
Hermione's body twitched, her logic was telling her to run, but he was drawing her to stay.
"What are you doing here?" She whispered harshly.
The white shirt was back tonight. He stared at her from across the dark room and made a gesture to ask her to silence the room. She complied.
Her simple magic sparkled as it floated out from her wand. Malfoy took one step towards her, then two steps back. Hermione's feet were glued to the ground, unable to move even if he did get closer.
"I'm not going to touch you," he warned with reassurance.
Disappointment painted Hermione blue. "Okay," she said anyway.
Malfoy stretched his fingers at his side and then clenched them into a fist. He was nervous. Hermione knew he was going to confess something. She could hear it in the way his knuckles cracked.
"That night, at the battle. Pansy died because I didn't save her. Because I didn't want to save her." His head lent forward to look at her with more intensity. "For a split second, I wanted my own girlfriend to die, Granger."
Hermione's hand found itself on her mouth, a shiver radiating through it. She could smell the pink polish fumes and didn't like how it was mixing with the three glasses of wine she just had.
With the confession fresh off his tongue, Malfoy made a face that said: do you see what I mean? Hermione peeled her feet off the floorboards and sat on the mattress. His long legs were perpendicular to her thighs.
"Cho told me what happened," she exhaled. "In the dungeons. She was there."
He didn't look down at her when he asked, "Did she tell you that conveniently, or did you ask?"
"It was on topic, when I asked."
They stayed there, one seated, one standing, neither facing for empty seconds. Hermione didn't feel bad for knowing how Pansy died before Malfoy was willing to tell her. She didn't care for those sorts of things anymore.
The compulsion to confess boiled.
She took a breath and said something that she'd never said aloud before. "I hate Ron."
This got Malfoy's attention. His head turned down to face her, painfully slow. A furrowed brow and thinned lips spoke on his thought's behalf.
"I hate him because he died and I didn't. But even more so, I hate him because now I feel compelled to never move on otherwise people will hate me for not mourning him longer."
The words were heavy when they came off her chest.
"We never would have worked anyway," she continued. "We were too different, and now that he's gone, I can't tell anyone that. I hate him so much for dying."
His silence was deafening. When she came into the bedroom he was trying to paint himself as the villain, but her confession threw that idea out the front gates.
Fists unclenched, he sat next to her on the bed. Hermione was internally begging him to talk.
"You feel trapped." Malfoy finally stated.
"I was always a last resort with him. What we had wasn't this cosmic explosion of chemistry. I spent years pining over Ron, wishing he would see me the way that he saw other girls. Then when he did, he didn't do anything about it. I was constantly humiliated all that time in the woods. We were almost always on the verge of death, and even then he could barely hold my hand."
Hermione knew she sounded self centred, but this was Malfoy she was talking to.
"I kissed him before he died. He was talking about making sure the house elves were okay and I launched myself onto him. I thought, if he won't do it, then I'll do it myself. It was nice. You know, I'm about to die and I'll never snog anyone else after this, kind of nice."
"So what happened?" He lent onto his forearms, wrists loose.
"Some Death Eater threw a curse that backfired and hit a wall. A brick hit him in the head. He was alive for ten seconds after the blow, I counted. I didn't think I believed in souls until I saw Ron's leave. Harry was struck too. He crawled over to Ron and held him in his arms. I just watched. I couldn't move."
Malfoy exhaled a shuddered breath.
"I blacked out after that. The only thing I remember was seeing what our future was supposed to look like. We were supposed to win the war, and I'd get a job at the ministry, probably something with paperwork and wait everynight for Ron to come home for dinner. We'd get married, and just fall into this white picket fence normality. I'd eventually get sick of my paperwork job, Ron would get sick of me and we'd separate in order to keep our friendship. I'd be thirty five, starting all over again."
Malfoy turned to look at her now, to which Hermione felt convicted to look away from but couldn't.
"It is selfish, I know," she said, sighing in disappointment over herself. "And I don't really hate Ron, I am just angry at how much I miss him. I'm angry that I never really got to figure out if we were supposed to be together or not and that I care too much about what other people think."
He scoffed, going back to having his head down, "Since when have you cared about what others think?"
"My entire life."
Hermione smiled when she saw him smirk. It dropped pretty quickly though.
"Confession?" He said. She hummed. "I think you were obligated to be with Weasley. Everyone saw how jealous he got when you were with Krum. What if you wanted him because it was easier to pine than to deal with envy if you ended up with someone else?"
She frowned. "No, I loved Ron. In a way that I won't love anyone else. I'll probably love someone more someday, and the difference isn't a bad thing."
Malfoy nodded to himself.
"What about you? Were you trapped with Pansy?" She made an attempt to put him in the hot seat.
He read her mind, "Do you really want to know or are you just trying to take the heat off yourself?"
"I want to know," she partly lied.
He laid down onto the mattress and stared up to the ceiling. Same way that she did every night. Hermione twisted to face him, her bare knees brushing against his jeans. His eyes danced along the ceiling before he spoke.
"Being a pureblood is more of a curse than people think of it as a blessing." He ran a hand over his forehead. "The money is okay and all, same as the respect you get just by saying your name wherever you go. But there's this invisible box that you're confined to. Expectations you must meet."
Hermione moved a little more so that her knees definitely bumped him. He didn't notice and continued talking.
"You don't get a childhood, you get trained. At the age of four you have three languages in your vocabulary that you don't need, because outside of Britain you wouldn't be considered royalty. You get hit with a cane everytime you question a pureblood moral. You're told to beat the house elves if they ever make a mistake. You get thrown into a dungeon for the first week of every summer because the school board tells your father you're not as smart as a muggle-born."
That one came out of Malfoy's mouth and directly pierced another crack into Hermione's glass heart.
"You're told you can't have a career because you are destined to take over your family's scandals. You're punished for fancying a half-blood Ravenclaw. You're praised for becoming a soldier at sixteen, for not flinching when your arm is inked with dark magic."
He rolled his neck to look her square in the eye, "You have a wife selected for you before you're eleven."
"You're trapped," Hermione heard herself conclude.
Malfoy looked back up at the roof and mouthed the word, forever. His leg swung side to side, mindlessly tapping her thigh. Hermione kept herself gripping him mid-motion and laid down parallel to his body instead.
He didn't save Pansy because if he did he would never be able to escape that life. She was the only thing keeping his tone of grey from being bleached white.
He didn't save Pansy because he wanted a second chance.
"Why couldn't you tell me this the other night?" She asked shyly.
Sitting up to lean on his forearm, Malfoy gazed at her neck. The glamour was hiding the strength of his hands so she took out her wand and removed it. She wanted him to see what he'd done.
He stopped breathing when the bruises came to life. His back teeth cracked against one another from how badly he was clenching his jaw. Hermione had an urge to reach out and loosen it with her fingers.
"Granger…"
"It is okay, Malfoy," she dismissed him. His confession when she walked in the room was all the apology that she needed. "I liked it."
Malfoy's eyebrows rose and his expression was teasing. She rolled her eyes and pushed his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back.
"Stop it," she pointed her finger. "I just meant that you did what I didn't have the courage to do."
"You wanted to strangle yourself?" He wasn't trying to be funny, he was concencerned. "That is one hell of a desperate measure, Granger."
"No, I wanted to see what it felt like to be on the verge of death, and know if I was okay dying in this war with zero accomplishments."
"Being my first kill would be an accomplishment."
This time Hermione sat up on her forearm. She didn't think that he realised he subconsciously knew that he wasn't to blame for Pansy's death. There was no need to dwell on it.
From this view, with the moonlight shining through the window, there was more definition on the scar running across Malfoy's face. Her fingers convulsed to touch it.
"Did you get that from the battle?" She asked, nodding to his forehead and then scanning down his neck and shoulder.
"This old thing?" He grazed it with two fingers. "Yes, this was a gift from Aunt Bella."
"Bellatrix? You and I are more similar than we think." She lifted her forearm to reveal the thick scars, a specific word standing out above the others.
Malfoy grabbed her wrist to get a closer look. She could feel his warm breath against her skin. By that move alone she had more of a fire in her chest than when Theo kissed her on the mouth.
Unable to meet her eye line, he sighed. "Why do you talk to me, Granger?"
Now that was a fantastic question. One that Hermione hadn't actually asked herself yet.
"Why do you talk to me?" She retaliated.
His thumb traced the m, then the u, then the d… "Because you hate me and even if I tell you the darkest parts of my soul, I can't get any worse."
The familiar ache in her left arm made it's return tonight. It throbbed, fastening with the beats of her heart.
"I'm starting to think that in the kitchen, nothing matters." She tried to ignore the movements of his thumb. "Even if I told you my harshest secrets, it wouldn't matter because I can't stoop any lower in your tiers of respect."
Pulling away from his grip on her, Malfoy hummed. He closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. The action made his shirt tighten around his biceps.
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, Granger?" He replied, eyes still closed.
"I know I said that I liked it when you strangled me, but I don't think I would like it if you ever did it again. I won't be able to give you a third chance."
Malfoy swallowed thickly. A vein on his arm popped and his chest puffed.
Regret was coloured across his face. Hermione guessed that that was the night that Malfoy truly saw his father in himself. What scared her the most was the thought of what he would have done if he had a working wand.
"I don't want to be him," Malfoy rasped. He didn't have to explain who he was talking about.
She watched his eyes flutter even though they were shut. "I know." Without noticing, her face had inched closer to his.
"You smell like wine," he said dryly.
Hermione pulled herself away and rolled off her side to lie back down. "Theo may or may not have tried to get me drunk."
He made a noise of disapproval or disgust, she wasn't quite sure. "He's bored," she expanded. "Getting drunk is one of the only things we have around here."
"Is that the real reason?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She wasn't lying. Theo was bored, and getting drunk is one of the only things they could do on the farm. It was when the two combined that Hermione was anxious something catastrophic could happen.
But Malfoy didn't need to know that.
"Cho said that Pansy was yelling at you for being a traitor when everything happened. What did you tell her?"
He nibbled at his top lip, "That I was wrong. We were all wrong."
"For siding with You-Know-Who?"
"For being a balless dick and hiding behind my family."
This made Hermione chuckle.
She stood from the bed and pulled at her sheets, forcing Malfoy to open his eyes and nearly fall off the mattress. He balanced himself with grace. Straightening out his legs and reminding Hermione of how tall he really was.
"I've talked to you for too long," she joked, compensating for the raging burn inside her chest. "I would like to go to bed now."
Malfoy huffed. "Please," she pleaded in a whisper.
The back of his three middle fingers came up unhurried to softly stroke the bruises on her neck.
Unsure why the thought came to mind, Hermione remembered the story of how he never kissed girls at school. His touch felt stronger than any kiss she had ever known, and that was a terrifying realisation.
He rested his hand on the dent in her collar bone.
"Goodnight, Granger." He sounded exhausted. More beaten and bruised than her.
With a voice as faint as the wind, Hermione said, "Goodnight, Malfoy."
She didn't wait for him to walk away before slipping under the blanket. Her door silently opened and clicked shut a few moments later.
That night Hermione dreamt of the day she bought her dress for the Yule Ball. In the fitting room she was determined to make sure everyone at Hogwarts knew she was a girl. With a chest like hers, in that frock, there was hope that even Ron would turn his head.
Teddy woke all of the girls on the second floor with screams of horror. Hermione jolted out of bed and met Cho in Andromeda's room, wand in hand, ready for a fight. The eldest witch rocked her grandson back and forth, strained in the face, apologising for waking them.
"What's the matter?" Cho yelled over the baby's cries.
"He must be teething," Andromeda explained. "He keeps stuffing his fist in his mouth."
If there was ever a picture to describe the colour red, it would be the image of a seven month old boy, cutting his back teeth.
Hermione backed down the hall, calling out in her run, "Let me get something cold from the kitchen!"
The freezer did not have anything it could provide for a baby to chew on without choking. Even downstairs, Teddy's screams were piercingly loud. It was a wonder that the boys had not emerged to see what was happening.
Remembering she literally had magic at the palm of her hands, Hermione grabbed a carrot and froze it with an old charm. In a rush she missed the feeling of, she skipped every second step on the stairs and practically threw the vegetable at Teddy.
His head fell back crying even harder when Andromeda tried to show him how to bite it. He reached out his arms and did a grabby thing with his hands, leaning out for Hermione to take him.
She pulled him from Andromeda and rubbed his back when his face fell into her shoulder. Tears were soaking through her oversized shirt and his screaming was now muffled. Cho handed her the frozen carrot.
"Here sweet boy," Hermione cooed. "This will make you feel better."
Teddy hiccuped in between whaling, lifted his face back up and let her put the end of the carrot in his mouth. She could physically feel his small body relax into the cold bite.
His cheek rested back under her chin. Her fingers naturally went to stroke his face while he chewed.
Andromeda was leaning against the crib with her shoulders hunched over. Cho gave her arm a soothing rub up and down.
"Why didn't you give him some pain relief potion?" She asked.
"We've run out," Hermione explained. "McGonagall can't find any more people willing to sell some to her. Most businesses have shut down."
"Surely there is something at St Mungos?"
"Everything they have stocked will need to be kept in case something bigger happens. Everyone is preparing for a storm."
A now orange mouthed Teddy whimpered in Hermione's arms. He was tired and his throat was scratched.
"I will grab some muggle medicine today when Theo and I head into town. There are bottles specifically for infants."
"Thank you, Hermione," Andromeda sighed. "If he's anything like his mother, it will only get worse from here on out."
The elder witch was clearly worn out. Her eyes were heavy and her hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in several days.
"Are you alright, Andromeda?" Cho asked, leading her to sit on the bed.
"I'm afraid my body has grown weary since the last time I cared for a baby. I must have forgotten how tiring it can be, especially the nights."
Hermione lifted Teddy to sit further up on her hip. "Let me take him for a few days," she insisted. "You need to sleep, and if you're not careful you could fall ill."
"Oh, I could not ask you to do that. He is my grandson, he is my responsibility."
"And it would be irresponsible of you to not rest when someone is offering. All of his clothes are in the laundry and we can roll his crib into my bedroom."
"You truly do not have-"
Hermione waved a hand, "It's already decided."
Andromeda admitted defeat with a soft smile. In fact, she was probably so exhausted she couldn't argue any further.
"Hermione," Cho said sternly. "What is that on your neck?"
Panic ran through Hermione's veins. She was blushing and stammered to find a cover up story for the bruises that were no longer disguised.
"Love bites," she randomly spat out. "My concealment charm must have rubbed off during the night."
Both witches looked at her in awe. The heat in her face wasn't fading, and she started to second guess her lie. Was it too obvious that they were the fingerprints of a repressed pureblood?
"I knew you and Theo were snogging!" Cho chirped, jumping a little on the spot.
"Theo?" Andromeda asked. "I didn't know you fancied Theo."
Cho rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, "He has done nothing but flirt with her the entire time we've been here."
"Theo is rather nice. He has always favoured your company, hasn't he?"
"Oh my goodness, I cannot believe you are snogging Theo Nott!"
If they dared to say the name Theo one more time, Hermione might just scream as loud as Teddy had.
"There is no need to make a big deal of it," she tried to not sound stressed. "It was a one time thing, so please don't mention it to anyone else."
Cho approached to get a closer look at the bruising, "That definitely does not look like a one time thing."
"Well, it is." She backed away and readjusted the baby to her other hip. "I am going to take Teddy downstairs. Andromeda, take as many days as you need to sleep. Cho, do you mind moving the cot into my bedroom?"
Before either could say anything else, Hermione left the room.
From the sun sitting above the horizon she gathered it was after 8am and that the farm animals would need to be fed. Using the sling that hung in the living room, she wrapped Teddy around the front of her chest and headed out to the stables; not without glamouring her neck once more.
There was a schedule of who fed the sheep and horses, today being Wednesday it was Dean's turn, but seeing as she was already awake, Hermione started the chore.
Teddy squealed with excitement as they walked through the back paddocks to the hay bales. She threw piles of the straw into the horse's fenced off area and loved the sound their hooves made when they galloped over. The sheep nudged at her legs when they wanted their own serving, to which she gladly provided.
From this spot, Hermione could see the entire view of the house. Her attention was drawn in by the window that sat at the attic. Teddy's feet were banging on her stomach but she didn't notice. A speck of white hair was watching them.
She was too far away to see any details on his face, yet there was no denying who was up there.
The British side of her was coming out when her hand rose to a gentle wave. It was awkward and totally not something that Malfoy would find endearing. She groaned, knowing he couldn't hear, at how brainless she could be sometimes.
Even Teddy was laughing at her.
Malfoy didn't necessarily wave back. He more so lifted his hand with two fingers in the air and left it for three seconds before bringing it back down.
With a shake of her head, Hermione went back to the animals and patted the horses to distract herself from the cruel opinions she had on herself. There was no need to impress Malfoy. His opinion had no value, but there was still a strong desire to not look like a fool.
She hadn't really been very successful so far.
When they made it back to the house, Malfoy left from the window, the kitchen was filled with people making their own breakfasts. Teddy's carrot had well defrosted by this point, and now he was just sucking it for flavour. He tried wriggling out of the sling to sit in his high chair, having not an ounce of patience in his tiny frame. Hermione unwrapped him with ease and let George take over in entertaining the tot.
While everyone else ate, she constructed a baby sitting schedule. Everyone would take it in turns caring for Teddy and at the end of the night he would sleep in her room.
A thought crossed her mind that Malfoy would be disappointed if she didn't come downstairs to regain their meetups, but then she realised she was caring if Malfoy would be disappointed.
It was hard work trying to remember that she was supposed to dislike him. Though, it was even harder trying to deny that she was starting to enjoy his company over anyone elses right now.
Theo came and sat beside her at the kitchen table and bumped her elbow with his. He gave a not-so subtle wink. Hermione looked up from her schedule to see Cho stuffing a giggle back into her mouth. There was no way that this lie was going to be able to be kept secret.
The kitchen was turning into chaos, so when she leaned over to whisper into Theo's ear, no one noticed. "Can you come with me for one second?"
He nodded, swallowing his toast followed by discreetly dragging his chair out.
Hermione led him up stairs to an empty closet. She sort of threw him in there really, and closed the door behind her. The small space was dark and she could smell the butter on his breath.
"What are we doing here?" Theo teased.
"I-um-I-"
Not sure how to word her request she let her hands find his shirt and pulled him down so she could reach his lips. Theo didn't need any further details and understood completely what he needed to do next.
Their mouths moved far too slowly for Hermione's liking. She tried to pick up the pace but he shot her down with a moan. His cocky attitude did not match his snogging abilities.
His tongue was lazy when it brushed past hers. There was not an ounce of passion in the way they touched, yet Hermione could feel him smiling. Eventually, she found herself very aware of every bit of saliva that passed between them and the noises they were making.
In the past, her snogging experiences had been good enough so that she was lost in the moment, but here she was painfully conscious of their movements.
Pulling away she said, "Kiss my neck."
"Oooh, have a kink do we?" He joked, crouching even further in the confined space.
There was no need to reply. Somehow, his mouth was wetter on her neck than it was on her lips. He sucked gently, curving his hands around her waist and leaving them there to rest. Hermione tried to make pleasurable noises in the hopes that he would be inspired by them, but he kept at the slow pace.
She pushed her hips into his, which made him chuckle and nibble harder. It was not quite enough so that she could pass Malfoy's fingerprints as the marks he was making, so she repeated the action.
Theo was obviously getting hard. Hermione had no idea how he found this hot, but she took it as a compliment anyway.
He worked on one side of her neck, mirrored himself on the other side and then returned back to her mouth. At this moment, Hermione thought that this was one of the worst ideas she has ever had. She hated how soft he was being. She didn't want soft, she wanted something she wouldn't be able to describe even if she tried.
His thumbs started to work on her jean buttons, to which Hermione ripped herself away from his completely.
The back of her hand wiped the wet from her mouth. "I'm sorry, I should not have led you in here on false pretences," she croaked. Her throat was tight from how uncomfortable she was.
"All good, sweetheart," he puffed. "That was enough to wake me up for the day."
"This cannot happen again, Theo."
"I know, I know. Win the war, then win the girl, right?"
Hermione winced, luckily in the dark. "I apologise, I was just frustrated."
Theo laughed deeply, "Trust me. I get it. Anytime you want to loosen those tense shoulders of yours again, you let me know."
She nodded while he bent to kiss her cheek.
"You go out first," he said. "I'll wait a little."
Her eyes naturally looked down at the bulge in his trousers. She left the cupboard satisfied with the cover up of her lie, but not satisfied in another area.
Throughout the remainder of the day Hermione avoided both Theo and Cho, which included a rain check on the shopping trip. She felt dirty, from both lying and snogging. Two showers didn't help, nor did privately eating the packet of biscuits she'd forgotten about last night.
Dean was on bath duty for Teddy that night. He brought the baby into Hermione's room in an adult sized towel that drowned him in white fluffiness. His gummy smile tickled her heart.
"Do you mind grabbing him a pair of pyjamas from the laundry?" She asked Dean as she laid Teddy onto her bed.
"Course."
One minute and one nappy wrestle later, Dean returned with a navy onesie. It was not pyjamas but it did the job just as well. Hermione blew raspberries onto the baby's belly while Dean struggled to stuff his arms into the clothing from all the laughter.
"You're pretty good at this," he said, wiping his forehead with his wrist. "Did you grow up with children?"
"No, no." She put the buttons up on the suit. "Most of this stuff comes relatively naturally for a lot of women. Except Cho, she's still terrified of babies despite living with one for months."
Dean laughed. He watched her cradle Teddy with a bottle with his hands on his hips.
"I always wonder if I'll have kids after all this. Do you think you'll have them?" He asked as Teddy's eye drooped.
This was something Hermione also often thought about. However, her imagination looked different compared to everyone else's. Not wanting to go into detail, she gave Dean the short answer.
"I am not too sure I want children just yet. You know, career and all that."
He nodded, "Fair enough. Tell you what though, if Ginny ever comes back, there's no way she's not going to be knocked up before she goes again."
Hermione grimaced. "I take it you heard things you didn't want to."
"Everynight. Twice."
Dean made a gagging expression that made her beam. Teddy was gripping onto the ends of her hair, fighting to stay awake. She swayed him back and forth, patting his bottom until he finally caved. He didn't wake when she placed him into the crib.
"Do you want to come downstairs?" Dean asked. "I think Fred and George invented a new game for us all to play."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Or like a really great time."
Hermione put a hand on his chest, tapped it once and then moved to sit on her bed. "I think I'll stay up here. Keep an eye on Teddy. Thank you for the invite, though."
Knowing there was no point in persuasion, Dean left her alone.
She wondered if during those late night games if they ever spoke about her isolation tendencies. It wouldn't hurt her if they did. She was just curious as to what they would say.
Hours dragged where Hermione struggled to fall asleep. The twins kept everyone laughing until past midnight and it sounded like Cho may have been the last to say goodnight. Teddy only fussed twice and made sweet snoring noises as he dreamt.
In the spirit of inquiry, Hermione got out of bed and cracked her bedroom door a foot long. She was waiting for Malfoy to come down from the attic. If he would come down.
The house would have been silent for no longer than ten minutes before the door on the hallway roof slipped open. It didn't make a single noise, not even when the ladder extended to touch the running rug. Malfoy's legs peaked out one at a time, and with every step down, Hermione felt stirred.
He froze when he turned to see her in the doorway, then relaxed when he registered who it was. She summoned him over with her hand to which he hesitated in obeying.
When his face was inches from hers, she was overwhelmed with how nice he smelt.
"What?" He half hissed.
"I have Teddy in here," she explained.
They had to whisper for the sake of being caught. Malfoy lent in further to see inside her room, which brought his chest mere inches away from her nose. She looked up at his chin and then his eyes when he retreated.
"Should I ask why you have a sleeping infant in your bedroom?" He asked, judgmentally.
"It is only for a few nights. Your aunt is burning herself out having to take care of him full time."
He sucked on his front teeth without a reply.
"Is it alright if we resume our kitchen catch-ups until he isn't with me? You are most likely not the children loving type and I do not wish to put any pressure on you."
As the words were pouring out of her mouth, she realised how pathetic she sounded. More importantly, why was Malfoy on the verge of smiling at her right now.
"Kitchen catch-ups?" He poked fun.
Hermione glared, "Piss off, you know what I mean."
Malfoy rolled his eyes with little effort. He turned away and went downstairs without another word.
"Okay then," she whispered to herself, closing the door.
Teddy had rolled from his left side to his right with his thumb still firm in his mouth. He looked so peaceful, Hermione was ragingly jealous.
She walked to the window and watched Malfoy walk to the front gates. He always had his wand in his hand, but from what she knew, his magic still refused to return. The black undershirt was making its comeback and tucked formally into the jeans that were growing snug on his hips.
Hermione could relate. There was only a limited amount of clothing she could wear these days thanks to her eating habits. Her stomach rumbled on that exact thought. She made a plan to go to the kitchen as soon as Malfoy goes back upstairs, and eat it while watching Teddy sleep.
For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why Malfoy stood out there every night.
One day she would ask him.
He stood out there for seven minutes before returning to the house. Hermione laid on her bed twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the coast to clear until she could eat.
Except, Malfoy beat her to it. He opened her door without permission with his arms full of food and a still look on his face.
The corners of Hermione's lips twitched to curve.
She was doomed.
