HERMIONE POV
I can't believe it. I just. Can't. Believe it. A mansion? Really? Is this karma, finally catching up with me? I mean, I didn't think my shower singing was THIS bad! First Ron-
I froze, halfway out of the car. Ron. I had almost forgotten all about him. Tears welled up in my eyes; I blinked quickly a couple times. Of all people, I was not going to let DRACO MALFOY of all people see me cry twice, no siree. But Ron. I am a generally level-headed person, and for me to…to react like that…well, it just proves how much I cared about him. And how bad he had trampled over my heart. I think I had known, though, that something was going on…The day that he came back from that Ski trip…
"Granger!" Malfoy called from the bottom of the steps.
I started. "Hermione!" I said, correcting him. I climbed out of the car, hesitating.
What're you doing, Hermione? This is the boy that despises you! That thinks he's better than you! That bullied you mercilessly all throughout school! And now you're going to LIVE with him?
There were seven steps that led to the front door.
Remember 10th grade? When he switched out your Vanilla pudding for mayonnaise?
One step.
And what about when you fell asleep in class, and he cut half of your hair shorter than the other?
Another step.
When he kept putting chewed gum in your hair during 1st period?
4 steps left.
He 'accidentally' squirted ketchup and mustard all over your new white t-shirt…remember?
More than halfway there.
In sophomore year of college, he told everyone nasty stories about you, didn't he?
5 steps. Another step, another memory.
And every year, on your birthday, he would make up another insult, just for you.
Almost there…
In High School, when you weren't looking, he'd doodle on your paper, getting you into trouble, wouldn't he?
The last step…
You hate him, Hermione. You always have. Haven't you?
The giant doors stood before me. I hesitated once more. Should I go in?
I took a deep breath, a few steps, and the doors swung shut eerily behind me.
Inside, it was, well, heaven. The soft glow of the lamps showed bookcases lining the walls, a fireplace, couches, tables, carpets, shining wood floors, and doors leading to other rooms. I was staring at the books, wondering if I'd have a chance to read all of them.
"Hey, uh, Hermione?" A soft voice muttered
I spun around. Malfoy stood, illuminated by the soft fire that must've started while I had my back turned.
"I'm…I'm really sorry…Normally I'm not spacey, I swear." I murmured, looking down.
"No," he said, taking a step closer, "You have a reason to be spacey. How about I show you to your room, then?"
I swallowed. "Thanks."
He tuned on his heel, and opened one of the doors. Through it was a long hallway, no doors or portraits. Few lights were lit, making it slightly difficult to see. At the end of the hallway, we took a flight of stairs up. He stopped at a set of double doors at the top of the stairs.
He paused. "Excuse me for a moment." And he disappeared. I looked around. This hallway was better lit, with a window at either end, though the curtains were currently drawn. Some paintings hung in between the many doors that lined the walls. Before I had the chance to look at them, Malfoy re-appeared, holding a pile of neatly folded somethings in his hands. He extended them to me.
"What-? I asked, curious.
"Spare clothes. You know, to sleep in? They're all I have. Sorry." He replied, smoothly slipping past me and down the hallway. We stopped three doors down from his.
"Here," He said, opening the door, "This is your bedroom, the closet is on the left, the bathroom is the door to the right. You'll find everything you need in there, feel free to call one of the servants with the telephone if you need, that's what they're there for." He paused, then, "Goodnight…Hermione." And he closed the door. I heard a silence, then a set of footsteps that disappeared down the hall.
"Goodnight…Draco."
I am a girl. That means that yes, I have girly tendencies. After we said our goodnights, I didn't even look at the bed. No. I went into the bathroom, locked the door, stripped, and took a hot shower. And then I cried. I cried for Trish, my best-friend-turned-enemy. I cried for Ron, who decided to cheat on me with aforementioned enemy. I cried for myself, mainly. Yes, I was selfish for the thirty minutes that I was soaking up the warmth. My boyfriend had cheated on me with my best friend, and I was now living with the one person on the planet who I have ever truly hated? Yeah, looks to me like I had a pretty good reason to cry.
After the sob-fest was over, I crawled into the bed. The ridiculously soft, warm, and comfy bed, mind you. And I thought about Ron.
"Hey honey!" I called out as Ron pulled up the drive. He got out, gave a half wave in my direction, and called back, "Hey, can you help me with some of this stuff?" He didn't wait for an answer. Frowning slightly, as I had been expecting a little more enthusiastic greeting, I went to go help him carry in his stuff. "How was the trip?" I asked him, grabbing his ski bag.
"Good."
"Have fun?"
"Yeah."
"…Is something wrong?"
"No."
I went downstairs, worried. He talks more than this. Why didn't he seem happy? It's like he seemed reluctant to talk to me…
I went back upstairs to get another bag.
That night, as I cuddled up closer to him in bed, he turned over, away from me. Turned to sleep on his left side, specifically. I think it was then that I knew something was really wrong. Ron never slept on his left side. Ever.
It was downhill from there. He talked less to me, stayed up late on the phone and computer, avoided my eye. I…I think I knew that we were about to…to break up, but I guess I was just in denial. I should've seen it coming, I suppose. But I didn't, and here I am. Sleeping in the house of Draco Malfoy.