DECEMBER
The first fall of snow happened the first week into December. Hermione was sitting on the ledge of her bedroom window, reading a book she'd practically memorised at this point when a snowflake landed on the glass and sparkled with its natural beauty.
Outside, Malfoy was chopping wood for all of the fireplaces. Three to be exact. His usual undershirt was no longer enough to keep him warm, so the new layer of a navy blue sweater had been added into the mix. It wasn't big enough for his larger stature so the sleeves ran up his arms every time he threw down the axe.
"It isn't as nice of a view now that you can't see his arms, is it?" Cho joked from the bed across the room.
She and Hermione had been spending a lot more time together ever since that night a few weeks ago. A shift had occurred in their friendship, one where they realised that they weren't so different from one another after all.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Hermione half rolled her eyes and pretended to read her book again.
"Sure, sure."
"What?" She spat.
Cho sat up and crossed her legs underneath her bum. "You have been staring out that window for ten minutes now, and unless a horse is tap dancing, I'd say you're admiring a certain someone's daily chore."
"Come off it. I am merely watching the snow fall, don't be ridiculous. Besides, in case you have not noticed, Malfoy and I can barely stand to be in the same room as one another. There is no..." she rolled her wrist, "admiring anyone of anything."
"Be that as it may. That boy glances up everytime he gets a whiff of your perfume, and his eyes follow you around the room like an owl."
"Probably because they're filled with white hot intense hatred!" Her voice squeaked a little on that last word.
Cho pursed her lips, "Or… admiration?"
Before Hermione got a chance to throw her book at the other witch, a booming laugh echoed from downstairs. A very pretty laugh, at that.
"Do you hate Ophelia for being so perfect like I do?" Cho asked. "She hasn't done anything wrong, and yet, late at night I want to shave her eyebrows off."
"I think that would be called jealousy. And no, I do not hate her. I would find joy in seeing her with green hair if one of the twins' tricks ever went right, but I don't hate her."
The two women laughed with each other. Hermione took a peek out of the window and saw that Malfoy was no longer outside chopping wood. His pile was gone too, replaced by a fresh clump of snow.
A knock at her door drew her back into the room, only to be met with the exact person she had been searching for. His arms were filled with planks of tree trunks and his face was blank.
"Do you need any wood?" He asked in a sort of grunt.
Hermione bit her tongue, literally, and replied, "Yes, please."
He walked into her room and dumped the cuttings into the basket by the fireplace. Not a single care for the fact that this was the first time he'd been in here since he had slept in her bed. If Cho weren't here, Hermione might have been tempted to call him out on it.
Truth be told though, she knew when she wasn't wanted. There was no point asking to be told verbally what she'd already accepted.
Malfoy cleared his throat and walked out of the room without looking at her. He shut the door on his way out even though it was open when he came up.
"What? No thank you?" said Cho.
Hermione harshly scraped her fingernail down the spine of her book, repeatedly. "Doubt he would have cared even if I did say it."
"He's different now from how I remember him at school. Much quieter, don't you agree?"
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Maybe it is. Maybe he doesn't know how to talk to us."
He used to, Hermione thought. Now he wasn't so dependent on her.
Cho jumped off the bed and held out her hand for Hermione to take. "Come on. Let's get started on lunch."
Placing her book back on the desk, Hermione took Cho's hand and followed her downstairs. In the hallway Dean was showing Ophelia a charm where paper cranes flew around the two stories, making her long hair swish with every turn she took to avoid them. It reminded Hermione of that scene in The Sound of Music.
"Hi girls!" Ophelia chirped. "Look what Dean is doing, isn't it marvellous?"
"Stunning," Hermione replied with a bit of sarcasm. "I had no idea you were so creative with your charms, Dean."
Dean scowled at her and tried to hide his smile but failed. "I've been practising. Thought Lia would like to see this new trick I've learnt."
"Lia?" Cho raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you prefer to be called?"
"Oh that is just a silly nickname the boys have given me." Ophelia did another mesmerising twirl. "I do not mind. You can call me whatever you wish."
A crane came down to land on Dean's head. Ophelia giggled as she picked it off and blew it off the palm of her hand. Hermione tried to figure out if they were flirting or if this was just how Ophelia behaved naturally. She seemed like the type of girl to not know how much of an effect her beauty had on people.
It was something Hermione wished she was like her entire life.
She and Cho left the two in the hallway and began making sandwiches for lunch. People didn't gather at the table but rather took their servings and went back to whatever pastime they were doing before. Harry stayed behind while Cho went to join Andromeda by putting a very small Christmas tree up in the living room.
"This Christmas feels a lot more different from last year, don't you reckon?" He asked, before taking a bite of his bread.
Hermione played with the contents of her sandwich. "Still no Ron. But as long as there aren't any snakes trying to kill us, I'll think we'll be a bit happier."
"What'd you think he would say if he knew that we were living with Malfoy? And that it wasn't as bad as we'd thought it would be."
"I think he would probably try and punch Malfoy, then say something that started with 'bloody hell' and ended with 'prick'."
Harry chuckled. She hadn't seen him chuckle in a while.
"He is pretty good with Teddy, have you noticed that? Malfoy I mean. Didn't think he'd be that great with kids."
"I think that he might be righting his wrongs." Hermione tore apart a piece of tomato. "Trying to make up for all the horrible things he's done over the years. If you're not careful, he may just want to replace you as godfather."
Harry grimaced, "He can fight me on that. Working legs or not."
Fred and George came tumbling back into the kitchen, their long limbs pushing each other to get to the table first. George accidentally slipped, leaving Fred to reach them first.
"Hermione," He panted, "We just found brooms in the back shed. Real Quidditch brooms from like the 40s. Can we use them? Please?"
George used the table to pull himself up, "Please. We promise not to go high enough to break the wards. Please, please, please, please, please."
Both twins bent to their knees to grab and kiss the back of her hands over and over again. She couldn't help but laugh at the desperation on the boy's faces.
"Okay, yes. You may use the brooms." She ripped her hands away from their lips.
"THANKYOU!" They said in unison and scrambled off the floor, out the front door.
"BUT DON'T DO ANYTHING THAT ISN'T HEX WORTHY FOR PUNISHMENT!" She yelled out to them through the kitchen window.
Harry shook his head and laughed into his lunch, "Idiots."
Hermione hummed in agreement. "Do you want to go out there and have a go? I'm not sure whether you need much leg control to fly a broom properly. I've never been able to get the hang of it."
"It's alright, I'll just watch."
There was a sadness in his voice, as if he was realising that not only may he never walk again, but he'd never fly again either. Hermione didn't know which one he would miss more.
They both went out to the porch and watched the twins fly around on old raggedy brooms that stalled like cars do. Every now and then her heart would stop beating if one of them almost fell or if they flew too high. She really was far too young to be acting like a mother, but she cared too much to not.
Eventually everyone in the house except Andromeda had decided to join the watch party. Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye that Ophelia had her hand wrapped around Malfoy's bicep. She was so petite standing next to him, it made Hermione's bra feel like it was suffocating her and nervous that her jeans were about to bust at the seam.
George came down first and asked if anyone else wanted a go.
"Not bloody likely," Dean scoffed. "I'm not in the mood to break my neck today."
"Me either," Cho agreed.
Ophelia stood on her tiptoes to whisper something into Malfoy's ear. He bent to the side so he could hear, then shook his head to whatever she said. She half heartedly slapped his chest and her mouth made the shape of the words, "Come on."
Malfoy shook his head again and stuffed his free hand into his pocket. He didn't pull his arm out of her grip, though.
Standing like that they looked like celebrities painted on the front cover of a magazine. Malfoy with his hair naturally slicked back so it flops at the top and curls at the back of the neck. Ophelia with her white coat and baby pink beanie that were far too fancy for a farm. Both just as strikingly attractive as the other.
Hermione swallowed the scratch at the back of her throat and looked at her feet. She didn't like the icky feeling eating at her insides.
"Draco would love to have a go!" Ophelia yelled, teasingly.
George hesitantly offered his broom to the blond, who had tilted his head back and was holding something back from coming out of his mouth. Malfoy slipped out of Ophelia's touch and snatched the broom out of the twin's hand, walking with a march to the centre of the paddock.
"Uh oh," George whispered as he stood in between Hermione and Harry.
"You can say that again," Harry mumbled.
Malfoy took off on the broom with an aggressive kick. It halted twice before he reached the level that Fred was at. Everyone on the porch walked two steps forward to see that he had flown out of sight, and over the house.
Either he had much better control than George or his broom seemed to have warmed up by now, because he made flying on that outdated broom look so damn easy. His barrel turns were swift, and nose dives were sharp. Even Hermione was impressed.
"Surely he wasn't that good at school," Dean joked.
"Nah mate," George clapped his back, "You just sucked."
As Malfoy made his second circle around the house, Fred tried to descend but his broom had more kickback than he could handle. His legs fell out from under him and he was left hanging by his hands.
Everyone gasped. Hermione clung onto Harry's shoulder.
Luckily, Malfoy came around to swoop Fred up under his arm just in time. He flew back down with grace and dropped the twin onto his feet before hopping off of his own broom.
He checked to see if Fred was alright, to which he was given a beaming "fuck yeah" in return.
George came to join them in the paddock and laughed at his brother but also thanked his hero. Malfoy nodded and returned back to the porch, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before looking away again.
The air was growing colder and everyone returned inside. Ophelia rubbed the upper part of Malfoy's back as they went into the living room.
Hermione excused herself to go to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and tried very hard to control her breathing. She leant over her desk and counted every time she inhaled and exhaled.
There was a ringing sound in her ears that she couldn't shake. It felt like someone was punching her brain.
From the quiver in her lips she knew this wasn't going to slow down anytime soon, so she sat in the corner of the room with her head in between her knees and waited it out. Her mind projected images of Fred dying. Fred falling to the ground with his head split open. Fred drowning in his own blood. Fred with no life left in his eyes.
Hermione didn't know how long it took her to get over this panic attack. At some point she had fallen asleep in the corner of the room and was being woken by Andromeda for tea time.
Her eyes were barely back in focus when she sat down for dinner. There was a bowl of soup with a slice of bread in front of her that smelt heavenly. She couldn't wait to eat it once everyone had gone to sleep, but for now she just raised her spoon to her mouth and joined a conversation to put it back down again.
Her seat was at the head of the table, and positioned at the centre between Malfoy and Ophelia. The brunette beauty was chatting with Harry about the Yule Ball, saying that she remembered his dress robes being of very good quality. Harry barely cared about the topic and shifted it to talk about who her date had been.
Malfoy was subtly scratching his arm. The part where he had burnt off his dark mark. She resisted the urge to wrap her ankle around his under the table.
Everyone soon finished dinner and was warned that McGonagall would be visiting tonight so they had better tidy up the living room. Hermione offered to do both the washing and drying of the dishes so everyone else could clean up elsewhere.
When she was done she walked into the living room to find most seats had been taken. Harry was by the fireplace, Dean and the twins were on the long couch, Cho was on the big armchair and Malfoy, Teddy and Ophelia were on the two seater. Her hand was on his thigh.
Hermione opted for sitting on the floor so that Andromeda could have the seat dragged from the kitchen. She pulled her knees up to her chin and lent her back in between Dean's legs.
Teddy was holding a ball seated on Malfoy's lap and kept throwing his small back onto his cousin's hard stomach. The baby giggled everytime Malfoy playfully pushed him forward again.
Cho was searching for Hermione's attention and when she got it, she used her eyes to speak. Something along the lines of: should we shave Ophelia's eyebrows off tonight? Hermione grinned and suppressed her laughter.
McGonagall came in with Andromeda ten minutes later.
The professor did not wish to take a seat so Andromeda took the spare spot. Hermione knew what was coming. They had to be told of the Order's attack some time. Only question was whether or not she was a good enough actor to act surprised.
"Good evening, everyone." McGonagall started, "I thank you for having me tonight. It looks as if you are all settling in well with the colder weather."
Hermione startled nibbling at the bottom of her lip to keep herself from outwardly fidgeting.
"I have come tonight with news of the Order's first return against You-Know-You."
"What?" Harry said bluntly.
"You can be assured Mr Potter that this attack was more than successful. All of you were not informed of the plan in order to keep your protection for a greater battle later on. However, those sent on the mission have returned safely without any harm. Their role was to merely send a message to the Death Eaters rather than fight."
Dean put his hand up, "Excuse me Professor, but what exactly was the message that was sent?"
"I believe the words that were used were, the light will always conquer. In the process of this being sent, I am afraid to inform Mr Malfoy that his family manor was destroyed by fire."
Hermione did her best to act shocked. She glanced over at Malfoy who went from frowning at the professor to directly snapping his head in her direction. Her fake expression dropped when his anger outwardly stirred.
Everyone else was talking amongst themselves and asking McGonagall questions, but Malfoy was staring into her soul. The only thing that broke their tension was when Teddy started to fret. Ophelia took the baby from his lap and Malfoy rubbed his own forehead with the back of his hand.
"Mr Malfoy, please know that the destruction of your family home was never part of the plan. It was merely the meeting place in which the incident occurred," McGonagall explained.
"That is alright, Professor. I have spent years wishing I could burn that place to the ground." His eyes met hers again. "I guess I am just lucky that someone did what I didn't have the balls to do."
Hermione turned on her spot on the floor to talk with Dean about how amazed she was at the Order's revival. She tried to concentrate on what her friend was saying but she was very much aware of how much Malfoy was still staring at her.
McGonagall continued to discuss how there would be more time before the Order made any more movement outside of their hiding and shared that You-Know-Who is not as strong as he once was. Harry had a few things to say but was shut down when the professor reminded him that he was not the centre of this war, and he needed to concentrate on his health.
Eventually they were all excused and Hermione made her way to the bathroom and had a shower that probably used all of the hot water.
When she walked out in her towel, George asked if she wanted to join for cards tonight, and she was half tempted to say yes but said that she needed to process everything McGonagall announced. He understood her excuse.
She laid on her bed, not even having the energy to get dressed, for a solid hour. She listened to everyone laugh downstairs, and yell about cheating, then laugh all over again.
Snow was falling again outside her window and she watched it until her eyes drooped into a deep sleep. She dreamt of her parent's anniversary when her father slammed the car door onto her mother's hand.
It was past midnight when she woke up again. Her clock read 2:12am which meant that no one would be downstairs anymore. So she took her towel off, changed into just an oversized shirt and shorts, and made her way to the kitchen.
When she stepped into the room, it was so dark she didn't notice someone was sitting at the table until she opened the fridge door.
Her entire body jolted when her eyes met with Malfoy's.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" She whisper yelled. "Most people say something when someone enters a dark room!"
He didn't reply, instead he got up from his seat and closed the fridge door on her behalf. Hermione had forgotten how much he towered over her. She would be lying if she said it didn't make her stumble over herself.
"Why did you do it?" He growled.
"I don't-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about."
He moved in closer so much so that she had to strain her neck in order to look up at him. "Why did you burn down the manor, Granger?"
His voice was so deep it rumbled. The silence hung with every second she took to reply. Hermione knew she was supposed to come up with some elaborate lie but she couldn't. She couldn't lie to him.
Here stood the baby boy in that birthday photo, asking her to tell him why she burnt down his childhood home. If there was ever a time to feel like a villain, this was it. But sometimes, even the villain thinks they're doing the right thing.
She pulled her shoulders back and said, "I was upset with your aunt for saying that you are a pathetic excuse for a nephew. You aren't a pathetic excuse for anything. That house has haunted more than just you and I, and I wanted to make sure that no one else was ever forced to go back there."
Malfoy sucked on his cheeks and looked above her head. She heard his knuckles pop on either side of his hands.
"Did my aunt hurt you?" He asked.
"No. She didn't touch me." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "But I may or may not have tied her to a chair and forced her to watch the manor go down."
He looked down at her with a new frown on his face. This one had a taste of pride in it.
"How dramatic."
"Yes, well. We both know how much she loves a good show."
"Mmm."
Hermione only noticed just now that his sweater had the words CHRISTMAS CRAZY embroidered at the centre. Her hand traced the outline of it without even asking permission first. Malfoy didn't coil away from her touch, though. He watched her do it.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist and she went dizzy.
"Where did you get all of these clothes from?" She asked as a distraction.
"They were in the attic when I moved in." He explained, still holding her. "I assume they belonged to McGonagall's husband."
"Oh."
It was sad that he was forced to wear a dead man's closet because he had left everything else behind. Even sadder that she didn't think of bringing him any of his suits before she ruined his room.
At the reminder of why she was even in his bedroom, she pulled away from his touch.
"Stay here," she instructed. "I'll be back."
If Malfoy said anything on her exit, she didn't hear it. Blood was rushing through her ears and she struggled to walk up the stairs in time with Dean's snores.
Her bag was over by the desk when she used her wand to accio the letter. She thought of pulling out the watch as well, but figured that might come to good use another time. As selfish as that sounded.
Malfoy was in the same spot he had been standing before when she returned to the kitchen. His focus on the floor lifted to see her walk in.
Hermione toyed with the envelope in her hand, unsure of how to present it. There were no words coming to mind so she simply handed the parchment to him with a nervous hold.
He looked at the letter, up to her, then back to the letter before taking it.
"Is this some long-winded confession?" He asked, judgement in his tone.
"No," she said, disappointed. "Good to know how you would react, though, if I ever did do that."
Malfoy looked like he was sorry for the assumption, but didn't apologise verbally. He flipped the envelope open and pulled the letter out to unfold and read. His eyes scanned the writing.
"I didn't read it," Hermione admitted. "Whatever is in there isn't something I need to know. I couldn't let that go up in flames when you said it was the best birthday gift you had ever received. Burning generations worth of cursed heritage is one thing, but something as personal as that—I couldn't let it go."
She was halfway through about to apologise when Malfoy placed the letter on the table.
He rolled his tongue along his teeth and cleared his throat, "Thank you."
That was most definitely not what she expected him to say. The words threw her off balance and she had to let it soak in before she could say anything else.
For some reason Hermione could feel herself wanting to cry. It was odd because she wasn't sad or angry. If anything, she had missed moments like this. Moments where Malfoy surprised her with his kindness in dark rooms while everyone slept.
She realised that this had slowly started to become her safe haven. Midnight confessions and desperate measures, replaced locked doors and sleep. Malfoy had become the rock in which she lent on, but she wasn't his.
That thought alone allowed one single tear to run down her cheek.
Malfoy must have seen it pour. He reached out and wiped it with his thumb. It wasn't what she wanted from him at that moment.
"Why did you stop coming to see me, Malfoy?" Hermione whispered. "Did I do something wrong?"
His head bowed when he pulled his hand away from her face. "You did nothing wrong."
"So why is it that you can barely look me in the eye anymore?"
"Because-" He backed away from their close proximity. "Because you shouldn't have forgiven me for choking you."
There was more to it, and they both knew it. "That was my decision to make," she said harshly. "You didn't do it because you wanted to hurt me, you did it because I happened to be the first person to ask you about Pansy after she died. I slapped George after he asked me about Ron when we first got here. I forgave you because I understand you."
Malfoy gripped the back of a chair and pushed his body weight onto it. "Granger, I am no different to Theo for what he did to you."
"Yes you are." She walked to close the gap between them. "You are. I'm telling you now that you are different. Theo deserved everything he got, and I am so grateful for what you did for both me and those other girls he's hurt. But you don't deserve to punish yourself as well."
His eyes switched between looking at her left and her right, then lingered on the scar above her eyebrow.
Hermione went to reach for his face but the memory of Ophelia's hand on his bicep, and his back, and his thigh told her not to.
"I spent a whole night in your bed without knowing that he'd hurt you." He gritted through his teeth. "I slept peacefully thinking my return down here had gone well, all while you were on the edge of being blind. Do you know what it's like to wake up to that?"
That confession made her flinch.
She vigorously tucked her hair behind her ears. "Do you know what it's like to wake up next to you, have this big saviour gesture, and then never have you speak to me again? That hurt more than anything Theo did to my eye, Malfoy. In fact, it fucking sucked!"
That confession made him cringe.
They were whisper arguing and the volume was getting a little too loud.
"When I saw your eye, it woke me up in more ways than one. That's why I didn't come back! My open wounds are not an excuse for you to tolerate that type of behaviour. But I'll spend as long as you'll let me, making it up to you."
He hung his head and pinched his brow while still leaning on the chair.
Hermione could feel herself getting angier by the second, so she backed away and returned to the fridge. She pulled out her old bowl of soup and warmed it back up with her wand, then sat at her usual seat and ate it passive aggressively.
Maybe if she had some food in her system she wouldn't be so short tempered.
Malfoy blew out a heavy breath and joined her in his own seat. He covered his mouth with his hand and watched her devour her soup.
"I figured out how you trick everyone into thinking you eat with them," he said calmly. "How you make everyone believe you're more okay than you actually are."
She placed her spoon down and laced her fingers together. "Oh really? Do tell."
"You cut your food up while you're talking. A lot. Then you bring your fork up to your tongue but ask a question before you actually put it in there. That quick mouth of yours can be very distracting when it wants to be. When we're done your plate is so messed up that no one can tell you haven't had a single bite."
He was right. They'd been sitting next to one another for almost a month now and it would have been nearly impossible for him not to notice. Everyone else simply thought of her as a messy eater, but Malfoy pays more attention than she realised.
Going back to eating her soup, Hermione blew on it and said, "You got me."
Malfoy waited for her to go for a second scooping before he dragged the entire bowl out of her hands. She protested using only noises as the liquid was heavy to swallow.
"Hey, I'm not finished."
"I don't care. That night, the one when your leg was bouncing under the table. Was that the night you went to the manor?"
She licked her lips and wiped the corners of her mouth. "Yes."
"Were you there, in front of the gates when I was?"
He asked this with urgency. He was afraid of something, afraid that maybe she had heard him talking to himself.
She wanted to lie. She really badly wanted to lie. But they didn't lie to each other, it was damn near impossible.
"I was," she confessed. "I did not intend on you being out there. There was a meeting scheduled and I needed to get past the wards to get there on time. I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary."
He gave her a look that suggested she was an idiot for apologising. "We both know that there aren't many boundaries between us anymore, Granger."
There was, though. There was a very big boundary in red ink marked in the space between them. It had faded to a soft pink the night that they shared the same bed, but that blinding crimson came back the next morning.
She blinked a few times, then swirled her dinner with her spoon, "Right."
An array of questions were just begging Hermione to be asked. She wanted to know how he was finding life outside of the attic, what he said to Theo when he punched him, and where exactly he stood with Ophelia's arrival.
However, she had got the sense that Malfoy didn't wait up for tonight so that they could continue their light night traditions, but rather only wanted answers to his own questions. She was surprised her skin wasn't tinted blue by how disappointed she'd become as of late.
They sat in silence until Hermione finished her bowl. One serving wasn't enough though so she went to the pantry and pulled out extra food to fulfil the need. Malfoy stayed in his seat with thoughts that consumed him. His brow deepend and his vision lost focus long ago.
Around the time that she'd finished her fourth ginger biscuit, she couldn't take the uncomfortable quiet any longer.
Pinching herself under the table for courage, she asked, "Confession?"
Malfoy broke his daze and nodded.
"When we were in third year, McGonagall gave me a time turner so that I could attend every class that was offered. I know that bad things happen to people who meddle with time and I don't have the turner anymore, but these past few weeks all I've wanted to do was go back to that night with Theo. Maybe if I hadn't gone out for that glass of wine and just stayed to play cards—you wouldn't have left me all alone."
Elbows resting on the table, he pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. "I thought that was what you would've wanted."
"If you had asked me, I would have told you that the last thing I wanted was for you to leave me. All these other people kept coming into my room who wanted to make me laugh, or make me feel pretty, but I just kept staring at the door waiting for you to come. You never did and I started to think that I'd done something to ruin whatever it is that we've built here."
"If I asked you now what you wanted, will you tell me?"
Without a beat she said, "Yes."
He took his hands away from his face and looked her dead in the eye, same as he had in the living room earlier that evening. The silver was more staggering at night. "Okay. Granger, what do you want from me?"
That red inked line flashed like a traffic light. Off and on, off and on. Stop. Don't do it. Ophelia. Ophelia Jane.
"I want-" she steadied herself in her seat. "I want you back. Whatever you can give me, I want it. I know that sounds desperate, but I can't lie to you and say that I don't need you. However, if I'm stepping on toes, tell me, I can take the hit."
Malfoy looked as if she had slapped him again. He slowly ran his hand down his face and held the curl of his fingers over his upper lip, like he was about to be sick.
"You shouldn't have given me that letter," he said into a muffled palm. "You shouldn't have burnt down my house. You shouldn't have done all these fucking nice things for me. I'll never be able to make it up to you, Granger. You've set me up for failure."
"I didn't do them to be nice."
"Why did you do them?"
She snapped a biscuit in half. "I don't know, Malfoy. I did them because I wanted to. Because I wanted to repay you for when you picked glass out of my hand, or when you punched a bloke for me, or for all the nights that you've sat with me while I eat my weight in cucumber sandwiches."
"Yes, but I needed these nights twice as much as you needed them."
"Did you? You were the one that stopped them."
They were getting frustrated with each other now for the exact reason why they needed one another. Both were admitting it, and yet somehow they still weren't accepting it.
"Okay, fine," she forcefully pulled a packet of crackers her way. "So it's settled. We need one another."
Malfoy folded his arms across his chest. "Fine."
"Fine."
And there it was. Two people torn apart, sewn back together again. Even if it was just until the night became day, Hermione was alright with that.
