Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.

A/N: And, here's the next chapter. I'm so sorry for telling all of you that I'll post the next chapter of PiD! I still haven't written the next chapter, would you believe that? These past few days were so, so busy.

Anyway, just read this.

Chapter Two: Secret Errand


10. I want to have tree house.

"So, what's the deal between you and tree houses?" Draco asked, feet propped up on Hermione's coffee table. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in between them and placed it inside his mouth. They had just finished watching the DVDs that Draco had brought to watch.

Hermione eyed him disgustingly and shook her head. "Well, what's the deal between you and Quidditch?" she asked. Draco rolled his eyes at her and the brunette sighed. "Well, when I was a little kid, I persuaded my father to build me my own tree house in the backyard. And my reason? I was so envious of the fact that our neighbor had one and I didn't. Being the one and only girl, my father agreed."

"Sometimes, I watched him build it. But father was one busy dentist so, when I went to Hogwarts when I was eleven-years-old, the tree house still wasn't finished… it was never completed. I planned to do it magically though, but I always really wanted to have a tree house that was Muggle made. It just makes me feel extra special when a person builds it for me with all his effort. And I don't just mean waving their magical stick around," she answered him honestly. "My supposed tree house is still standing in my old back garden. I'll let you see it, someday."

"Right," he said, eyes looking faraway. The gears in his mind were working double-time. He had succeeded in helping Hermione complete her first goal. Now, he had to think… and bloody fast in order to help Hermione. Actually, he already had a plan. He knew that the brunette wanted a Muggle-made tree house and so, he would hire more than thirty carpenters to build one for her in his own backyard. And with a bit of wandless magic, they were arriving at his house. He expected that they would call soon to determine the details of what had to be done. He had his cell phone in his pocket, ready… yes, Hermione had influenced him with Muggle technology; his new car was a proof.

"You know," the brunette softly said. There was something in her tone that made Draco's head snap immediately towards her. "I… I asked my best friends to build me one in the Burrow." And the blond knew perfectly well that she was talking about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Just like Ginny Weasley, talking about the two of them was still a touchy subject for the brunette, even after six years. "They agreed, Draco, but they never had the chance and time to do it. There was a war impeding… we were always on adventures so, how can they build me my tree house? And I bet they forgot about it a few days after I said it."

The brunette sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I have this stupid belief, you know. I believe that if someone made me a tree house, it would mean that they cared a lot about me."

Draco stared at her, eyes calculating. He jumped an inch or two when his cell phone suddenly rang, its shrill beeping snapping him back to reality. He cursed inaudibly, pulling the offending object from his pocket. He pushed the answer button and placed the cell phone against his ear. "Yes, hello?" he asked.

Hermione watched him as he talked to his cell phone.

"Cancel it," the blond said, his tone haughty. He paused and the brunette looked amused when a scowl appeared on his face. "I said cancel it, damn it! I don't care if they're ready. Just cancel it." And then, with a quick jab of a button, he ended the conversation.

"What was that?" Hermione asked. "You look kind of pissed."

The blond rolled his eyes, a good lie starting to formulate in his mind. "I cancelled my order of two boxes of pizzas," he explained. "Let's just say he didn't like it since they were prepared already."

"Oh," the brunette said, frowning. "Well" – she looked at her watch – "time for my bed. I'll just see you tomorrow, Ferret."

"I can't, Granger," the blond said, surprising Hermione. Draco always said 'yes' every time she invites him to her apartment. "I've got work to do."

"When did the great Malfoy heir start working diligently?" the brunette teased.

The blond shrugged. "I'm a Healer, Hermione, and my Father owns the business. He threatened to sack me if I didn't show up tomorrow."

The brunette laughed. "All right, all right."

"Goodbye, Beaver," he said, kissing Hermione's forehead. "Sleep tight."

She grinned sleepily. "Don't let the bed bugs bite," she continued before Draco apparated back to his own house.

"Draco Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed. She had just apparated to his house, hands full of new DVDs she bought from a store. "Ferret?! Where are you?!"

The brunette glanced around his house. She had been in the Malfoy Manor mostly when Lucius Malfoy, King of Jerks, was away) a few times before, specially if Narcissa invited her for tea and chatting, but if she had to choose between the Malfoy Manor or Draco's own house, she would choose his house every time. Hands down. Goodness, the Malfoy Manor was so gloomy; a person might think there was a funeral inside. But in Draco's house, it was the complete opposite. It was bright… too bright actually. Everything was warm… welcoming… inviting. That was why Hermione treated his home as her second home. It was just so… so Draco-ish. The brunette couldn't imagine how he survived living in the dreary Manor for all of those years.

Hermione then approached his kitchen, the blond's favorite place. She still couldn't understand what the deal with food and boys was. She had seen a lot of people who had a huge appetite. And honestly, Draco had the biggest, most humongous appetite she had ever encountered in her whole life. What she couldn't understand, though, was how he could still look perfectly fit and healthy even if he gorged on chocolate frogs at any and every opportunity. Merlin, he had a bigger appetite than Ron…and that was saying something!

She made an abrupt halt, jaw hanging open. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Hermione, there you go again," she said, rubbing her right eye. She was surprised to notice it was slightly wet.

The brunette shook her head. Well, that was her reaction every time she reminisced about her deceased best friends.

With a sigh, Hermione continued her small, but none the less difficult, quest of finding Draco. She walked up the stairs and approached his bedroom. Truth be told, his bedroom was Hermione's most favorite place in the whole house. Who knew that Draco's most favorite color was really red? The major color of his room was a good proof. He could even rival with her! And she liked his bed. She had slept on it at times (LITERALLY!) and it was… just right. Like how Goldilocks found Baby Bear's bed. And my God, he had a huge bookshelf with all of her favorite books on it. Apparently, his bedroom was Hermione's dream bedroom.

But hey, Hermione was just an average person while her blond best friend was filthy rich. She'd bet that his bedroom cost as much as her kitchen and dining room, maybe the bathroom as well.

Draco was nowhere to be seen in his bedroom. 'Weird,' she told herself. 'I guess he's working right now.' Hermione chuckled to herself and shook her head. 'I can't believe that prick is working diligently these days. I wonder what Lucius did to make him work harder.'

Hermione approached his bed and sat down on it. She grabbed the beaver (representing her, of course) she gave Draco on Christmas Day and hugged it close to herself. She caught a faint whiff of Draco's cologne and sighed. So many things had changed after the second war ended. Just look at her and Draco Malfoy. Hermione never imagined in her whole life that she would like his company above all people. They were practically inseparable, as what Narcissa told them once. Everywhere Hermione went, Draco had to be there. Everywhere Draco went, Hermione had to be there. It was a must… a law. They had vowed to do that.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

The brunette looked at his doorway. Lo and behold, Draco Malfoy stood, disheveled, sweaty and looked liked he would pass out soon because of tiredness. Standing up, Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. "I was just looking for you," she said, slowly approaching him. The stuffed toy was still close against Hermione's chest. "Draco, you look like hell," she told him, eyes squinting slightly as she surveyed him from head to toe. "What happened to you?"

Draco snatched his beloved stuffed toy away from Hermione and placed it on his bed. He quickly grabbed her arm and apparated them back to her apartment.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, taking a minute to get over a sudden feeling of dizziness.

The blond plopped down on her couch with a tired sigh. He leaned his head against it and placed his feet on top of the coffee table. "I'm just" – he released a huge yawn – "so bloody tired." He placed a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath.

Hermione frowned. She had never seen him so tired before. She sat herself down on the couch beside him and removed his hand from his eyes. "What did you do?" she asked him.

"Healed people, Beaver. I'm a Healer, for your information," he muttered, eyes drooping slightly.

"You're lying," she stated, eyes narrowing instantly. "Healers don't get as tired as you so obviously are right now."

Draco gave her a sleepy smile. "You really can read me easily, can't you?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course, you're my best friend after all," she reminded him.

The blond sighed and stood up. "I can't talk to you right now, Hermione. I still have to do my errand," he said, preparing to apparate.

"Whoa, wait!" she exclaimed. "You're still going to work? Merlin, Draco! Look at yourself. You look like hell… no, you look worse than hell! If this bloody errand of yours is doing that to you, then I suggest you quit doing it right now!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't. She'll be disappointed with me."

"Who?"

He gave her a smirk. "No one, Granger," he said. "Got to go now, though. Ciao!"

"Fine, be that way!" the brunette spat, utterly upset. The DVDs she bought now sat ignored on her coffee table. "You'll find yourself ignored by me, Ferret! You hear me?!"

"Loud and clear." And with that, he apparated back to his own house, leaving a gaping Hermione.

Unbelievable!

The brunette slouched down on the couch again and crossed her arms over her chest. She was starting to think that this secret errand of his was way more important to him than she was.

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. She promised herself that she wouldn't talk to him for a whole week.

Hermione didn't want to change her mind, but in the end she only lasted three days. On the fourth day, she found herself back in Draco's living room.

She scowled at his couch, the couch where they used to sit and talk about something, anything, and everything. All right, fine, she couldn't avoid him for a whole bloody week. She just couldn't. Just like what Narcissa told them they were inseparable. And those three days were plain miserable for Hermione. She couldn't survive a day without at least seeing his way-too-perfect face and hearing his annoying drawl.

Her scowl widened. Hermione couldn't believe she would be so attached to Draco Malfoy.

"Jinky!" she called the blond's personal house-elf. Draco had instructed his house-elf to see Hermione as her mistress, much to Hermione's annoyance. She didn't like a house-elf following her orders. She once bribed Draco to sack Jinky and do all the chores to himself (apparently, it failed). Even though Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare a.k.a. S.P.E.W. was already way dead, Hermione still couldn't help but feel that house-elves should have rights.

And so, Hermione made herself promise that she would only call Jinky if it was an emergency. And knowing what Draco was up to was considered as one.

A soft pop was heard and Jinky appeared in front of the brunette. "Mistress Hermione," she said, bowing politely, "Jinky is summoned. What does Mistress Hermione want Jinky to do?"

Hermione frowned. This was really against her wishes. "Do you know what your Master Draco does every day?" she asked.

Unfortunately, Jinky shook her head. "Master Draco forbids Jinky to come to the backyard. Master Draco said he'll sack Jinky if I disobeyed Master's orders."

The brunette's frown deepened. "So, he's in the backyard right now?" she asked.

Draco's personal house-elf nodded. "Jinky is starting to get worried for Master Draco, Mistress Hermione. Jinky sometimes sees Master Draco sleeping on the couch, too tired to go up to his bedroom. Please, Mistress Hermione, tell Master Draco to stop working so hard. Jinky's worrying." Jinky started to get a little teary-eyed.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, what is he doing to himself?" she asked, hand wringing her wrist. "All right, Jinky. Thank you. You may now go back to what you were doing before I called you."

Jinky bowed down again politely. "It's a pleasure serving Mistress Hermione. Please call Jinky if Mistress needs something from Jinky again."

"Yes, yes, I will," the brunette said, already distracted. She hadn't heard Jinky's apparation because she had dashed towards Draco's backyard.

Hermione never really had been in his back garden. She hadn't bothered to look at it, honestly. And to her knowledge, Draco also didn't go to his backyard often. So, when Jinky revealed to her that Draco spent most of his time there, doing his damnable secret errand, Hermione knew that there was something going on in the ex-Slytherin Prince's mind.

And she had to find out.

The brunette opened the sliding door separating and stepped out.

What she saw in front of her made her jaw drop. Her eyes widened as she looked at the almost-finished tree house in front of her. All it lacked a door. Draco was there, underneath the tree huge tree that supported it. He was cutting wood, in the brunette's opinion. She could already see tiredness written all over his face. He was sweating profusely. The brunette could also see some wounds on Draco's arms.

Her eyes started to water and her bottom lip started to quiver. So, this was his 'secret errand', huh?

Draco had spotted her and his eyes instantly grew larger. He started to become panicky and anxious, seeing a silently crying brunette watching him, arms crossed against her chest.

"What are you doing here, Granger?!" he exclaimed, abandoning his work. "You shouldn't be here!" Draco looked back at the tree house and cursed loudly. "Damn it, did Jinky tell you where I am? You weren't supposed to know about this until tomorrow!" He then looked back at Hermione and frowned. "Granger, why are you crying?"

And the next thing he knew, he was enveloped tightly between Hermione Granger's arms. She didn't care if he really sweaty and was partly covered in blood. She just had to hug him. "So this is your bloody secret errand, eh?" she sobbed, face pressed against his shoulder. "Why the hell did you hide this from me?"

"Hermione, it was a secret, hello?" he said, rolling his eyes as he pulled her away from him. "So, now, pray tell, why are you crying?"

"I don't know," she wailed, covering her eyes with her hands. Draco let out a snort of laughter and shook his head.

"Women and their bloody tears," he said, picking up the saw again. Now, please move a little away from me. I still need to finish the door for your tree house."

"You actually made this all by yourself?" she asked, looking at her new tree house with awe and pride.

Draco nodded. "Without magic, I tell you," he grunted "I'll just finish your door and then we'll talk."

"Ferret, please take a bath after this," the brunette said, grinning at him appreciatively. "You stink."

The blond scowled. "Thanks," he sarcastically said, making her giggle a little.

"Oh, it's so beautiful," the brunette gushed as she looked around her new tree house. She glanced back at Draco (he was just finished taking a bath and was now looking as fresh as ever, though, still tired) and flashed him a huge smile. "Thank you, Draco. Really."

The blond rolled his eyes and released a wide yawn. "You have said that for the umpteenth time, Hermione. Stop it already," he grumbled under his breath as he sat down on the wooden floor, Indian Style.

Hermione sighed and walked out of her new tree house. She sat near the edge and gaze up at the night sky. She could see all the constellations that she knew and smiled. She had always liked stars and stargazing was one of her favorite hobbies. "Well, I can't help thanking you again and again, Draco," she told him.

She heard his footsteps and the next thing she knew, he was sitting beside her. "I mean, look at this tree house. Honestly, it's way better than the one father was trying to finish back home. And" – she looked at him – "look at you. You're so, so tired. I bet that this is the hardest, most tiring thing you had ever done in your whole life."

Draco nodded. "Yup," he said, rubbing his tired, right eye. "It's harder than battling in the war, I must say. I had a wand back there. I could use magic. But this tree house of yours, you have so many demands. You wanted it to be Muggle-made. I swear, I was tempted to use magic within those five days just to get your bloody tree house finished."

She looked at him, a small smile adorning her face. "Well, you could have, Draco," she told him. "If that would have made your job easier, then you should have."

He shook his head. "Then, you haven't accomplished your tenth goal," he told her.

"I didn't write on my notebook '10. I want to have a tree house, strictly Muggle-made,'" she said, making him chuckle slightly. "And besides, you're so tired now…"

"Now, don't get so guilty, Granger," he warned her. "I decided to make this tree house for you, all alone and in the Muggle way."

"You could have asked helped from some people like… I dunno, carpenters," Hermione told him, now frowning slightly.

"I had planned to, you know," he said. "Remember the phone call I received that made me a bit pissed. It was someone who was telling me that all the carpenters I hired were ready. I cancelled it after you told me about this belief of yours." He released another yawn and shook his head.

"You know, this is one of the nicest things anyone had ever done to me," she whispered, eyes closed and appreciating the cold breeze that swept against her cheek. To her surprise, Draco's head ended leaning on top of her left shoulder. Her eyes snapped open and looked at him. At first, she thought he was asleep but then, he opened his eyes slowly.

"I had to prove myself to you, Hermione," he told her softly. "I had to prove that I've changed already. I had to prove that I'm not that fucking bastard I was when we were still studying in Hogwarts. I had to prove that I do care about you, a lot, because you're my best friend now. You were my first and probably, you'll be the last."

Hermione gave him a smile and wrapped her left arm around his waist. "You really shouldn't have bothered making this, Ferret. You proved yourself to me six years ago when you're the only one who found me in that deserted classroom. I fully expected you to leave me, but you didn't, and you brought me to St. Mungo's." She inhaled deeply. "I thought after the second war ended that I was all alone. Being alone wasn't a nice feeling at all, you know." She placed a quick kiss on his head as his eyes started to close again. "You've changed, Draco Malfoy."

"Stop getting so sappy now, Beaver. I want to go to sleep," he grumbled, making her giggle.

"You were the one who was getting sappy, Ferret," she told him. Draco shifted his head against her shoulder so now, his face was pressed against the crook of her neck. Hermione summoned Draco's comforter from his bedroom (color red) and wrapped it around their shoulders.

"You owe me an ice cream," he murmured, his hot breath blowing against her neck. Hermione shivered slightly and she was sure it wasn't because of the cold breeze.

"Just shut up and go to sleep," she said. "I'm getting a little tired myself, too."

"Goodnight, Granger," he murmured again, kissing her neck goodnight. Hermione shivered again, hands curling immediately into fists. "Sleep tight."

The brunette concentrated hard to control her breathing. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on top of his. She willed all the butterflies in her stomach to stop fluttering too much.

"Hey," he said, nudging his nose against her neck. "It's your turn to say your line."

Hermione flinched slightly. "Oh, yeah, right."

"I'll do it again," he said. "Sleep tight."

She grinned slightly. "Don't let the bed bugs bite." She heard his low chuckle and her grin widened. Hermione gave him a kiss on his forehead

REVIEW PLEASE!