In the end, Harry went home, leaving Hermione to sink or swim the rest of the night on her own.
He did manage to give her a tour of the house before he left, though. Other than the sitting room and a quaint open kitchen, there was a study with two desks facing opposite walls and a long window opening to the back garden, an immense library that seemed bigger than it should have been, a master bedroom with even more bookshelves and an adjoining bathroom, a smaller bathroom off to the side of the hall, and a smaller bedroom with a twin bed made up with a light purple quilt.
Now, she stood in front if a fireplace she hadn't noticed before, watching her oldest friend disappear into the green flames.
She took a deep breath when he had gone, fumes from the floo filling the air. She backed away and looked around the big sitting room. Her arms wrapped around herself.
The room was nice. It would be very possible for her to be comfortable here...if only it did not feel so foreign. Her eyes trailed to the blanket and, for a moment, she wanted to bury herself in it and apparate back to her old flat.
But it wouldn't be there. Well, it would, just not like she had left it. Chances were someone else owned it now. All her belongings were here, spread out among the house and peppered with his things or things that she had been told belonged to them together.
She pursed her lips and moved on.
Without realizing it, her feet led into the back garden. She walked along a stone pathway, enjoying how the flowers lit up in the setting sun. A light breeze carried earthy scents and blew her hair back from her face. She smiled, the first in what felt like a long time.
Behind her, Draco cleared his throat. She turned to find him lingering on the patio, the double glass doors framing him.
"Dinner is ready...if you care to join me."
She did not answer right away. She didn't even look at him directly. Instead, her eyes traveled over the whole house.
In the twilight, it seemed to sleep. The only lights from within came from the little kitchen off to Draco's left and the small dining room behind him. It made him stand out even more. His features were softened by the effect. His light button up shown with the yellow candle light. His hair glowed, masking his facial features in a bit of a shadow.
That made it easier. She couldn't see what he thought, couldn't see his hopeful expression.
She nodded.
~*~*~*~
Hermione found herself seated at an oval oak table with a layout of food before her. Aside from the roast, Draco had made salted potatoes, steamed carrots, and yorkshire pudding. A pitcher of lemonade stood nearby, waiting to be poured into her decorative glass.
Seeing all this, Hermione said the first thing that came to mind.
"It's not Sunday."
Draco looked up from where he was carving the meat. He blinked, almost as if he hadn't heard her.
Then a smile lifted a corner of his mouth. He went back to carving.
"Well, no, it isn't. But I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate your first night back."
His words hung in the air.
This did not feel like a celebration. It felt like a forced distraction. In fact, she was absolutely certain that was his intention.
Sneaky Slytherin.
Hermione startled at the thought. It had passed through her mind unbidding and out of nowhere.
She cut her eyes to him as if he had heard. Of course, he hadn't. He went right along fixing her plate, passing it to her (she accepted a bit mechanically), and fixing his own before sitting down.
Before she could so much as lift a fork, Draco waved his wand over the table. The candle lights dimmed to a relaxing hue, the food levitated to a long serving table next to the kitchen, and the pitcher poured them both a glass.
Hermione reached for her own as soon as it was filled. Her throat felt like sandpaper. She actually couldn't remember the last time she had drank or ate anything. Surely, it had been at the hospital. Of all the things to forget, among everything else. It was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.
They went about eating in silence for ten minutes or so. Hermione kept her eyes directly on her plate.
"Harry told me you liked the library," Draco started suddenly, as if reaching for something safe to discuss.
Seeing as it was unavoidable (they were the only two in the house), Hermione looked up.
"Yes, it was nice."
Draco nodded. She watched him take a bite of beef, chewing over a thought as he did.
"You designed it yourself, you know."
Her eyebrows came together in confusion. It seemed possible. The spell couldn't have been all that difficult. And an endless room for her collection did appeal to her inner bookworm. But no memories came forward of the plan or motions that went along with it.
"No," she said, a little crisp. "I did not know that."
Draco went back to his plate but not before she noted the aggravation streak across his face.
Good, let him get mad. She thought. At least that much hasn't changed.
She took another swallow of drink and nibbled on her carrots.
"The study was your's, too."
She looked up. He met her eyes from across the table, a challenge clearly shining in the smokey pupils.
"You said you like the light to shine in on you as you work. Reminded you of Hogwarts."
He gave a little shrug.
"I liked the idea too, for the opposite reason. So, you decided to make it a 'his and her' study, so we could work with one another."
He stabbed a carrot.
"Though most of my work is in the kitchen. It's become my own little laboratory, a word I coined from you after all your constant picking."
He took a bite, smiling in satisfaction at what she knew was an astonished look on her face.
She couldn't believe what he was insinuating. That after all the years of insults, badgering, and name-calling, she -his favorite person to ridicule- would resort to behavior of the same sort.
She opened her mouth to resort, but thought better of it and closed it with a slight huff. She shoved a potato in to keep her tongue from lashing out.
Arrogant prick!
He gave her a moment of peace. They continued eating.
After a bit, Hermione took a breath and tried to ignore her anger.
This was helped by the apple pie that levitated to the table after their dishes had cleared. A tray of tea followed a few small plates.
Hermione took in a deep breath, the scent of cooked apples and cinnamon making her mouth water.
Draco cut each of them a slice and handed her a porcelain teacup as well. Lavender and earl grey filled her senses. She wrapped both hands around the cup and took a sip.
"Mmmm," she breathed.
Draco smiled. "Seeped for four minutes with a pinch of lavender and one cube of sugar, just the way you like it."
Hermione took another sip.
"Heavenly," she murmured. She reached for the pie, her fork oozing through the filling after crunching into the crisp shell. She closed her eyes and enjoyed.
When she opened then, she found the most curious look on his face.
"It is odd, you know." He began, biting into his own dessert.
"What is?"
"Watching you rediscover old favorites." He held his fork to the side. "Honestly, you've eaten that pie more times than I could count, especially when I first learned the recipe."
He gave a laugh. "I remember, you actually begged me to try something different. So we did."
"That was our first holiday here, in the new house." His happy expression clouded over at her blank look and he forced himself to drink his tea.
Hermione thought for a moment, willing the memories to come. But nothing changed.
She sighed.
"Why do you try?"
He glanced up, worry lines marking his mouth.
"To help, of course...What else am I supposed to do?"
Hermione ran her hands over her hair, pulling the fluff from her face.
"I don't know. Give up. Move on." She dropped her hand to the table and began twirling her fork into the middle of her pie. "I mean, we don't even like one another!"
His face seemed to puff up in anger.
"I like you just fine, you frizzy haired-" He cut off at her raised eyebrows and grabbed up his cup.
"Playful banter is kind of our thing," he mumbled into it.
Confusion, fear, uncertainty all pooled into her belly. She dropped the fork to her plate with a slight clatter.
"We have a thing?"
Draco looked up, not bothering to hide the pain that shone through.
"We used to..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note:Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series. Those rights belong to JK Rowling. I am only borrowing her beautiful creations.
Hi, guys! Happy New Year! I finished this bit a little later than I intended, but here it is. I hope ya'll enjoy!