A/N: This is a short chapter, but the next chapter will be bigger and there will be a lot of activity. I am considering additional pairings, and if anyone would like to give me some ideas, that would be awesome.
Same Disclaimer: I own nothing, and get no money for it. Just the happiness of someone reading my fiction of fiction. thank you.
77
Hermione was all alone in the infirmary. Pansy had gone to settle into her own dorm. Technically, school wasn't starting for a few more weeks, but… well they were there, and most of them really didn't have a home to go to anymore. Of course the Malfoy's had welcomed them all to their Manor, which was kind of them, but Hermione didn't think she could go back yet. Not yet.
Oh, she knew that her torture at the hands of Bellatrix wounded Lucius and Narcissa, and she constantly saw the pain it caused Draco. It made her feel bad. Which was sort of amusing considering she was the one tortured, yet they were the ones suffering. Not that she didn't suffer. She still had nightmares, and she still felt the sting of the knife in the wound.
She still had a few hours before her biological parents would be coming to meet her. Saying yes to the meeting had made Adrian shine with happiness. Hermione found it easy to get along with the older boy. It was like their bond they'd had as children had snapped into place as soon as her heritage had been revealed. She didn't mind. Hermione found that she really enjoyed his company, and she enjoyed conversing with him.
77
Draco watched her from the doorway. He was sure she didn't know that the way she stood at the window, staring out, in only her hospital gown, made her look fragile. The rays from the afternoon sun shone in, illuminating her, and showing her silhouette through the gown. She was… exceptional.
He'd brought some books and games to keep her amused. Draco knew it was possible that she would only wish to read, and he wondered if she would mind him being there while she did so. He didn't want to scare her, so he cleared his throat to get her attention. It warmed his heart that she smiled so widely at him when she turned.
"Draco!" she was happy to see him. Hermione knew that he'd said he would come keep her entertained, but…
He returned her smile and moved forward, towards her. "I brought you some books, from the Manor actually. Mother thought you would like these." Draco set down the five books his mother had given to him just that afternoon. Why she hadn't brought them herself, he had no idea. He knew the two women got a long and enjoyed conversing on many topics. "I've also brought chess, exploding snap, and of course, where would you be without some chocolate?"
Hermione just looked at him for a moment. Draco Malfoy had brought her books, and candy… her heart sped up a bit. He stood in front of her, and looked so formal. His face, his beautiful face, was so serious. Hermione stepped closer to him. She had a feeling in the Pureblood world what she was about to do would be considered quite bold, but… "Thank you, Draco. Everything is so lovely." Then Hermione leaned in and kissed his cheek.
She paid attention. His pale face flushed, and he looked nervous. Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen Draco look nervous. Well, there was the time when he made peace with them, but…
"I promised I'd keep you occupied," he said softly. Draco didn't know what was wrong with him. He felt like he was a third year learning how to speak with girls. He'd never had a problem with that. Some little part of his mind whispered, 'those girls really didn't mean the same as Hermione does, did they?'.
"Yes, you did." Hermione noted that he was looking at her as if she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. She was wondering if she was imagining things. Or, perhaps he was interested now that her blood was 'pure'. Sorrow filled her at that thought, and she took a step back.
Draco noticed. He felt her shift in moods instantly. "Granger… Hermione… I'm sure this isn't the right time… honestly, I didn't think I'd ever have a chance at this, but when you're better; when you're out of the infirmary, I was hoping you'd do me the honor of perhaps dining out with me… by ourselves?"
He'd asked her out. What she'd been wanting finally happened and all she could think was that it was for the wrong reasons. "Are you asking… because I'm a Pucey now?" her voice was small as she asked.
He was shocked. That actually hadn't even entered his mind. "No!" he exclaimed. "I…" his voice lowered. "I've wanted to ask you out since we joined the Order, but… honestly, I didn't think you'd have me. I mean, why would you? After the way I've treated you for so long. But, seeing you after he'd hurt you… coming in and seeing you just now… I needed to ask. Perhaps I should have asked sooner." She was going to say no, he thought… no, he knew. Like he'd said, why would she ever give him, Draco Malfoy, nephew of the woman who'd tortured and scarred her, a chance.
Hermione stepped forward again and reached out, taking his hand. "I would very much like to go to dinner with you once I'm able to leave the infirmary."
Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he wasn't going to question it. He reached out and ran his hand gently down her cheek. "I'm very glad. Now, why don't we play a game, or, if you'd like you could read? If you'd like to read, I'll pull up a chair. I brought my book with me."
Her head tilted to the side. "You want to stay with me if I read?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I told you I was coming to spend time with you. I know you Hermione Granger. I know your favorite thing is learning. I know you spend quite a bit of time in the library, or outside, up against a tree, with a book in your hand. I know you spend most mealtimes reading, and trying to ignore those who are trying to seek your attention. I know you hate Quidditch, but you love the muggle game, football. I've seen you with Ginny, trying to teach her to kick the ball into the net. I know that Neville was your first friend here, with Potter being your second. I know you."
Now Hermione's heart was fluttering. All of those things… all of those things before she knew where she came from… since she was eleven years old. This boy… no, this man, had learned about her, and while some thought her boring for these traits, he'd just learned to know. She took his hand and led him back to where a small table sat next to her bed. "Why don't we start with a game of exploding snap?"