Author's Note: Hermione might be putting the pieces together slowly, but there's still so much she needs to absorb before she understands Draco's motives. As always, JKR is the Master of the Elder Wand.

Dawn had come and gone a long time ago when Draco finally woke up again. Even though the curtains were pulled mostly closed it was still fairly bright in the room. He blinked a few times and took stock of his injuries. His belly had healed nicely while he slept, and he was only getting the occasionally twinge there. His head was much clearer with no dizziness or pain. And he wasn't as drained. The only problem was a scorching dryness in his mouth. Peering to one side he saw a tall, glistening glass of water perched on the edge of the dresser. Sighing with relief he leaned over and grabbed it, draining it in a few gulps. It hit the dresser again with a clunk.

Draco groaned and went to sit up. It was only then that he remembered what had happened the previous evening. He had fallen in bed with Granger, and she had agreed to let him stay – no, she had insisted – because he was so tired. He glanced nervously next to him.

She wasn't there. The bed was empty, and was cold to touch, which meant she hadn't been there for a while. Given that Granger couldn't walk properly, that probably meant Tilly had helped her.

With a wince, Draco remembered some of what had happened the evening before. A small part of his mind foggily remembered calling her by her first name.

Goodnight Hermione…

When he thought about that, he shuddered. How could saying someone's first name seem so intimate? He imagined her calling him Draco, and it caused his stomach to flutter. Then he recalled something else. Wrapping one of her curls around his finger. Watching as it sprung back…

Oh fucking hell, he cursed himself. What a complete idiot. He may as well just hang a sign around his neck that said "I'm Obsessed With You". He could only hope that she would dismiss it as the dazed actions of someone who was out of their mind. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and stretched. It was amazing how much better he felt, but when he looked at the clock on the wall he realised he had been asleep for almost ten hours. No wonder he'd had time to fully heal.

Draco awkwardly pulled on a clean shirt – opting for a steely grey colour instead of his more typical black. He stiffly manoeuvred it over his head and the bandage that Tilly had wrapped around his waist. With another deep breath and a silent pep talk to himself, he exited the bedroom.

Granger wasn't in the living room, but he heard her voice coming softly through from the kitchen. As he moved towards the entrance, he paused to listen. She was chatting to Tilly, and he could also hear the muffled crackling of bacon on the stove. It made his stomach clench in hunger as the smell wafted towards him.

"…know where this is ?" he caught the second half of Granger's question.

"We are somewhere in the north, Miss, but Tilly cannot say more."

"So it's warded to stop you saying where it is?"

"Yes Miss."

"When did he buy it?"

Draco could tell they were talking about the cottage.

"After he is returning from Hogwarts. Master is wanting to escape and so he bough an untraceable home."

"Why untraceable? I mean…aside from the wards."

Draco swallowed, knowing he should interrupt, but interested to hear what was making Granger so curious.

"He bought it from the muggle people."

Granger made a noise of surprise.

"Really? You mean he voluntarily interacted with them?"

"Yes, lots of times, Miss."

"Well that's a surprise."

"Is it? Why is Miss surprised?"

He heard Granger snort, and he leaned closer towards the doorway, his heart beat quickening.

"Because he's Draco Malfoy. He hates muggles and muggle-borns..." she trailed off and he could hear Tilly dishing up food from the clinking of china plates. After a short pause, the elf replied.

"But Miss, you is muggle-born, and Master Draco says that you-"

Draco felt his gut leap in the air and he quickly stepped forward into the kitchen.

"Tilly," he said sharply, his eyes warning her not to continue that sentence. Granger spun around in surprise at his entrance, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at him. She was sitting in a chair near the bench in the centre of the kitchen, on a towering pile of cushions. She was slumped forward on the counter lop-sided, and her voice was still quite hoarse, but she appeared more alert than before.

"How is Master feeling?" Tilly asked quickly, her eyes wide and apologetic. He hoped she didn't get it into her head to punish herself later. He'd have to remember to order her not to do anything to herself.

"Much better…" his eyes moved over to Granger and his gaze softened instinctively, "…thank you."

She grimaced and looked down.

"I didn't do anything, you just sort of…collapsed," she murmured, her cheeks flushing. Draco snorted softly.

"Yes, but you let me. And you didn't have to."

Granger looked uncomfortable but nodded anyway. At that moment Tilly hovered two plates over to rest gently on the counter. One placed itself in front of Granger, and the other came to rest in front of the empty chair next to her. Draco shot her a cautious look, but when she didn't respond, he took that as passive permission to sit. He moved over and slowly sat down, keeping his eyes on the delicious food Tilly had prepared. He heard Granger take a deep breath, smelling the bacon and scrambled eggs.

"Mmm… thank you Ti-" when she looked up at the house elf, her voice cut off and she made a sound of surprise instead. Draco looked up as well and saw that Tilly had in fact disappeared completely from the kitchen.

He shook his head wryly. The damn elf had done it on purpose to leave him alone with Granger.

"Tilly is…an unusual elf," he commented lightly, picking up his fork and starting to dig into the food. He was famished. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Granger turn to stare at him.

"Well, she seems quite fond of you. So yeh, that is pretty unusual."

Draco nearly choked on his food. He coughed a little bit, reaching over to grab the coffee that was sitting nearby and taking a big sip. He turned his head to meet her eye. She looked half amused and half judgmental. It was a strange mix of emotions, but somehow she pulled it off.

"Wow, princess," he retorted with a smug little half-smirk, "the claws are out this morning."

Her expression deepened into a scowl.

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Princess."

His smirk widened.

"Why not?"

"Because it's condescending. And it makes me uncomfortable."

Draco chuckled and returned to eating his food.

"And here I thought it was a term of endearment."

Granger picked up her fork with a little bit too much violence, and Draco kept one eye on that hand warily. He wouldn't put it past her to stab him in the eye if he threatened her precious honour.

"Just shut up and eat your breakfast," she spat sulkily, digging into her own eggs. He did as she asked, smiling into his plate as he hungrily ate. Occasionally he glanced across at her. He wondered if it was weird how sexy he thought she was when she was being bossy. Even though she was clearly nervous and self-conscious sitting here is his kitchen, Granger still appeared so natural. She just sort of blended into her surroundings, as if they'd just woken up together and were sitting having breakfast as lovers would. He couldn't help but allow the silly flutter of joy in his stomach at the domestic little scene his mind painted.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he eventually asked once enough time had passed in silence.

Granger turned to him, chewing on her bacon thoughtfully. She grimaced a little and, instead of answering his question, asked one of her own.

"Where is my wand?"

Draco swallowed a mouthful and sighed. He had been expecting this question, but still wasn't quite prepared to answer it. He owed it to her, though.

"Well…" he started, but paused to watch her face anxiously. Her expression clearly pressed him to keep talking, "Bellatrix snapped it after you left," he said slowly.

Hermione looked struck by pain for a second, and she blinked a couple of times.

"Oh."

He leaned in slightly closer towards her.

"I'm sorry, Granger. If I could have salvaged it without risk of being discovered…"

"What? You would have saved it? I doubt that." She looked at him a little accusingly then, her mouth set in a firm pout of anger.

"You don't believe me?"

"Why should I?" she spat back, pushing her plate away. He frowned and waited for her to keep speaking. She was clearly upset from the news about her wand. Not to mention she had a chip on her shoulder the size of Wales, and he knew that when she wanted to speak her mind she usually did no matter the opposition. Her teeth were biting into her lip now in determination. "According to you I stole that wand in the first place, so why would you ever help get it back for me?"

Draco blinked in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.

"Why would I think that?" he asked, confused.

"That's what you and your friends have been accusing us of."

With a breath of understanding, Draco realised she was referring to that horrid Muggleborn Registration Committee. His father had boasted to him about how ingenious it had been. He remembered that at the time he had thought it was completely idiotic and no one would ever believe it in a million years. It seemed he had been wrong.

"Granger-"

"I mean, for all I know you're just pretending to heal me and be nice to me, but it could all just be another plan to get information from me."

He balked at that comment. He thought they'd made better progress than that in the last couple of days. It left him with a sick feeling to his stomach.

"Woah, slow down, Granger-"

"If you're going to torture me more, then just do it already."

"I don't want to bloody torture you," he yelled, slapping his hand down on the counter. Granger stared at him, her eyes challenging him. She wasn't backing down.

"You hate people like me. You're a Death Eater, Malfoy…" she said slowly with deliberate emphasis on each word.

"Well yes, but that doesn't mean that I want to be."

"Then why did you just stand there?" she said with a hoarse edge to her voice. She still couldn't speak too loudly and it was clearly giving her pain to do so.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"While your own family tortured me you just stood there watching. I begged you to do something! I begged! So forgive me if I don't believe your little story."

"I saved you!" he shouted.

"You call this saving me?" Right in front of his eyes, Granger ripped the bandage off her arm, exposing the hateful word that had been carved into her.

Mudblood.

Draco stared at it in horror for a few moments. It had started to heal, but was still a deep, violent red. The word would never fade from her skin. He wanted to back away, to run, but he was paralysed with repulsion. Not from her, but from the sickening thought that he really had stood by and let his aunt deform her forever. She had every right to be angry. His image of the domestic little kitchen scene vanished in an instant. His only thought was that he had to make amends somehow. It would never be enough, but he could at least try.

"Granger, listen to me. Please." When she didn't keep yelling at him, he took that as a good sign, and waited for her to calm down a little and return his gaze evenly.

"You bought your wand from Ollivander's when you were eleven," she seemed surprised at what he was saying, but he pushed on quickly, "You tried a few different ones until you found the right one. You didn't choose it, it chose you." He paused for a brief second until Granger nodded curtly, "You don't always understand the traditions and behaviours of the wizarding world, but you understand magic. You feel it in you when you cast spells, and it feels right, like one of your limbs, it's a part of you," he took a deep breath and waited for her to react somehow. She was staring at him with steely eyes, but after a few long, painful seconds that felt like minutes, her face softened.

"It's not going to go away, is it?" she finally murmured quietly, her voice croaky from overuse as her eyes flickered down to the grotesque figures on her arm.

"No," he replied, letting his body relax just a bit, "I'm sorry, I tried everything I could to heal it, but…"

"I know," she interrupted softly.

He gave her a few moments to collect herself. After a few deep breaths she lifted her doe-like eyes to him and asked,

"So you don't think I stole my magic?"

Draco snorted.

"Hardly. Only an imbecile would believe that complete load of shit. You've been besting me in every subject since we were eleven. I get it. You're a bloody pain in the ass, but you're definitely a witch."

Granger sniffed a little, her expression still a little cross. Her lips were pursed in a small pout of stubbornness.

"Then why did you hate me so much? Why were you so horrible?"

Draco shrugged and awkwardly picked at some bacon on his plate. He bit off a few crunchy pieces while she waited patiently.

"Jealous, I suppose. How could I face my father every holiday and admit that someone like you had beaten me? Someone I'd been told since I was born was beneath me."

Granger considered that for a few tense moments.

"So what changed?"

He shifted awkwardly in his seat as his brain worked furiously to think of something to say that wouldn't give away his pathetic secret.

"I guess nothing changed. I just grew up. And found out that I actually didn't have much in common with my father after all." Granger was still looking at him with extreme cynicism, and he sighed with regret. She would probably never completely believe him. "Look, it's not important what I think. The important thing is that you're safe here. I'm not going to hand you back over."

Granger nodded eventually, although a little distrustfully.

"I suppose that will have to do for now," she finally said with a sniff of distaste, before she pulled her plate closer once again and tucked into her food.

Draco stared at her for a moment in disbelief. She had just returned to her breakfast as if nothing was wrong.

Stubborn Gryffindor pride… he thought with a sneer and he began to eat in earnest again himself. After a while he built up the courage to turn and speak to her again.

"I thought after breakfast we could read through some of my books on curse wounds and figure out what to do about your arm." Granger raised one eyebrow and studied him curiously; "I can even get some of the more gruesome dark arts tomes from the Manor library and see if we can find a way to reduce the damage…" he trailed off self-consciously as she stared at him. After what seemed like an age, she spoke,

"Fine," her voice was curt and she turned back to her food quickly, but not soon enough for him to miss the look of pleased surprise on her face. After a short pause she added in a much more amiable voice, spoken down to her nearly empty plate, "Thank you."

Draco smirked.

"No problem, Princess."

He could feel her shudder angrily next to him, and his smile widened, tugging one side of his lips up in a wry, satisfied grin.

Somehow he had survived this round.

...

Later that evening they were sitting side by side on the couch, each with their head buried in a text. Draco had been reading steadily for a few hours, but as it got later he had become more and more distracted. By Granger, of course. He kept glancing up at her and watching her read. It felt like he was back in the library at Hogwarts, obsessing over the Gryffindor doing her homework. So far, they had managed to find a few spells to help with her nerve pain, but nothing yet on the type of dagger or spell that Bellatrix had used on her arm. But Granger was still determined. She was frowning in concentration at the text on her lap as she read, her lower lip red and swollen from being bitten. She was curled up across the end of the couch, wiggling her toes back and forth to help the blood flow.

This was his fantasy when he bought the cottage. Well, maybe without the torture part, as she still had difficulty moving and was taking pain potions. But when he had first inspected the place with the muggle realtor, he had pictured this exact scene. Sitting on the couch with Hermione Granger and reading together. Ok, so perhaps his fantasies were a little cosier. They would more likely be cuddled up together, and Draco would be holding his book with one hand while his other toyed with her curls as she tucked her head under his chin. But this wasn't too bad considering the situation.

He didn't realise that while his mind had been wandering, Granger had looked up and caught him staring at her. Granger's brows creased together and she cocked her head to one side. Draco felt his heart skip and he cleared his throat a little, returning his gaze to his book.

Get a grip, he reminded himself sternly, pretending that nothing had happened. When some time had passed his eyes flicked back up to her and he saw with an unpleasant start that she was still watching him.

"Is everything ok?" he asked wryly, aiming for casual.

She pursed her lips and shrugged uncomfortably.

"I just…you…" she sighed and changed her tone, "I think I should go to bed now. I'm getting tired."

Draco cursed himself for making her feel awkward enough that she wanted to leave. Putting his book down with forced nonchalance, he nodded to her.

"Don't push yourself if you're not ready," he said in agreement, before turning to the room, "Tilly!"

There was a silent pause in which no house elf appeared.

"Tilly?" he called again. She still didn't respond.

Damn elf, he thought to himself. He turned back to Granger, smiling sheepishly.

"She's not the most obedient elf," he joked, but that seemed to only make Granger frown more, so he sobered quickly. "Can you walk?"

She shook her head, looking a little worried.

"I don't think so."

Draco sighed and rose to his feet, moving to stand next to her.

"I could use a levitation charm, but after those nerve charms we did earlier I'm not sure…"

Granger winced.

"The text said seven to eight hours should be left in between."

"Of course you memorised it," he teased with a roll of his eyes. That almost made her smile.

"Ok," he started, running his hand through his hair and messing it up a little as he thought this through, "I guess, just put your arm around my neck and I'll carry you there."

When he leaned closer, it took Granger forever to do as he suggested. He almost backed away, thinking she wouldn't, based on the pained look on her face, but then finally she lifted her right arm. Slowly she looped it around him and shuffled to the very edge of the couch.

Oh merlin, this is torture, he thought with an internal groan. He was sure she hadn't used her usual shampoo when Tilly helped her shower earlier, but for some insane reason she still smelled like apples and cinnamon.

Scooping his other arm under her knees, he hoisted her into his arms. Granger felt so damn soft against him; he froze for a split second. When he registered the feeling of her soft breasts pressed against him through the thin t-shirt she was wearing, he stumbled a bit and groaned out loud this time.

"I'm sorry, am I too heavy?" she asked worriedly, but he pursed his lips and shook his head curtly. Granger relaxed again, but he was petrified that, pressed against him as she was, she would feel his heart pounding. He quickly made his way into the bedroom and started to lower her down. Once she was mostly on the bed, he removed his arms slowly, feeling his skin brush against her and sending shivers down his spine. And that wasn't the only reaction he was having. Placing her on his bed bridal style was not doing his sense of longing any favours. He felt a tightening in his navel, and he hurriedly straightened up.

"Well…do you need anything else?" he asked, desperate to get out of there.

"No," she said, and he gratefully turned to leave, before she spoke again and he froze, "But, I was just wondering...is there another bedroom in the house?"

"No," he said slowly, confused by her question.

She squirmed a little on the bed, and he realised what was bothering her. Immediately he let his cockiest smile play on his face as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Why, Granger? Does being in my bed unnerve you?"

Her look of anxiety quickly turned to that bossy, cross look he loved so much.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" she spluttered.

"It's ok if it unsettles you, princess, just be honest."

She huffed out an angry breath.

"Goodnight Malfoy," she said with forceful emphasis that was clearly telling him to piss off. Draco's smile only widened as that warmth in the bottom of his gut started to burn.

"Sweet dreams," he said with a cheeky grin as he closed the door behind him.

Ok, so maybe it's not my original fantasy, he thought with a chuckle, but it's enough for now.