Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
A/N: Thanks to those who have bothered to review. My other stories, "Imitation" and "Playmate" are still going. Just wanted a little break.
The next morning was cold and damp, and Draco found himself hoping the weather wouldn't affect Granger's mood. Granted, she wasn't exactly a ball of sunshine currently. He noted to himself that Weasel had seemed pleased with yesterday's progress, so he squared his shoulders and knocked on Hermione's door.
She bade him enter, and he found her perched on the sofa, examining the meal delivered by the house elves. He took a seat and quirked a brow at his dining companion.
"Does it bother you to use house elves to make your breakfast? Isn't that a violation against Spew?"
She glared then shrugged. "That's S.P.E.W. No one ever gets that. I always make sure to tip the elves."
"And how do they respond to that?" She could see he was fighting a smirk.
She raised a brow back at her antagonist and huffed. "Which would you prefer, eggs or porridge? Kippers?"
He noticed movement in his peripheral vision, and turned his head slightly to see Weasley standing in the corner, frantically gesturing for the snarky blond to stop taking the piss out of Granger about elves. Judging by the fire in her eyes and the way she was holding a knife, Draco concurred.
"I'll take option d: all of the above."
Granger shook her head lightly, and loaded up Malfoy's plate. He waited for her to assemble her choices before tucking into his meal.
As before, they didn't talk much, but both noted that the silence had become less awkward.
When he rose to leave, she wordlessly handed him a green apple from the tray. He was surprised to see a small smile gracing her lips.
"Care to share what's so amusing about fruit, Granger?"
"Eve handed the apple to Adam in the Bible. It appears I've cut out the middleman, and bestowed it directly upon the snake."
"The Bible?"
"Muggle holy book."
"Huh. Same time tomorrow? You can explain it to me then." They both knew that the Muggleborn witch was incapable of passing up an opportunity to educate. Malfoy thought it would be nice to return her gesture, so he reached onto the fruit platter, and presented Hermione with the first object he grasped: a banana. He didn't dare look around for Weasel's reaction.
"Erm..."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Malfoy."
He could hear her chuckling at his faux pas as soon as she closed the door. Oddly enough for once he didn't mind. The witch had a truly pretty laugh, and at least he didn't hand her a cucumber.
_DMHG_
Draco was pleased to have a relatively peaceful day in the classroom. Only two minor explosions, and one Fifth Year who turned himself blue from head to toe. Weasley didn't manifest until after supper that night.
"A BANANA? Are you kidding me? Very smooth, Malfoy! You should've seen your face when you realized what you'd done!" The ginger menace was howling with laughter.
"What? I panicked. It was the first thing I grabbed off the tray."
Ron sobered slightly. "You should make that kind of blunder more often. She was smiling on and off all day."
"Duly noted. Occasionally behave in a gormless manner. I'll have to take care not to approach your level of oafishness, though. She'll think I've been Longbottomed. Tell me - was your boorishness a learned behavior or a natural talent?"
"Bite me, you albino numpty."
"Sorry, couldn't if I wanted to - my teeth would go right through you."
The ghost rolled his eyes at the reminder of his incorporeal state, and he edged closer to the fire in Draco's quarters. Malfoy sensed the quick shift in mood, and wondered what fucked-up thing was coming next, and how quickly it could be made to stop.
The redhead finally met Malfoy's eyes. "Hades summoned me earlier today."
"Everything all right?" Even the Pureblood couldn't miss the note of concern in his query.
"Yeah, yeah...he told me the damnedest thing, though. He said you'd asked if Hermione could see me at some point, so she could say goodbye."
"I did, after he reassured me that there's no way to bring you back. He said he didn't care if I showed up with a musical instrument - guess that was a reference to Orpheus. Just as well; the only thing I ever learned to play was the piano. Can you imagine me trying to lug a baby grand into the Underworld and back?"
Ron smirked. "Give me a minute, I'm trying. Right now I'm torn between seeing it drop on you from a cliff, or roll back over you as you tried to push it uphill."
"Oh, very mature, Weasley. I've been decent to Granger lately, and you're still picturing ways to murder me."
"You're right; you've been decent. But in my heart, she's still mine. I never said this was going to be easy to see, so let me have my fun where I can, okay?"
Malfoy shrugged. "What else did Hades say? Did he tell you when Granger might be able to see you?"
"Nah. He gave me some rubbish how immortal time is different from how we mark it. He did tell me one thing that's cool about the Underworld, though."
"Do tell. What is it, daily all-you-can-eat contests?"
"Nope. He said that pretty much all of the past Quidditch players are there. If I get this right, he'll send me to the Quidditch-themed afterlife as a reward."
The blond pursed his lips as he considered this. "Sounds pretty wicked. You better hope I never make it there, though."
"Why not?"
"Because the first thing I'll do is teach everybody to sing 'Weasley is Our King.' If I have long enough before I die, perhaps I could even write some new verses."
"Sod off, Malferret."
"You sod off - this is my room, remember? Now don't be grumpy about the song. It will immortalize you. Who doesn't want that?"
"I swear to Circe, you sing that once and I'll tie you to something and swat bludgers at you for years." The two exchanged wry grins.
"So you're having breakfast with her again tomorrow. Any plans?"
"I thought I'd take the latest copy of Witch Weekly, and we can mock it while we eat. I get the distinct impression her smart-arse abilities have suffered greatly since your demise."
Ron snorted softly. "Make sure you turn it to the "Who Wore It Better?" section if you want a response. She HATES it."
"Will do. Weaselbee?"
"Ferret?"
"When do you think I should bring you up in conversation?"
"Never. Let her do it when she's ready."