Author's Note: Since this chapter overlaps slightly with the preceding one, I decided that I should probably post them close together. So here's the next chapter!

Chapter 41

Sometimes I wish I could stop thinking and just do. Harry and Ron seem to do just fine without thinking everything out millions of times over. Why do I think so much?

But it's just in my nature to think before I act. I can't change. Not as much as I'd like to, at least.

So here I am, taking advantage of Blaise's distraction, trying to think my way out of my problem: do I or do I not confront Malfoy about his—potential—feelings?

He seems perfectly content with the way things are, and asking him would probably—scratch that, definitely—shake up the unsteady ground that we currently stand on, and I'm not sure if that's what I want to do.

But there's too much. Too much has happened for me to simply ignore it all. He can't just go from loathing my dirty blood to saving my life and caring for me in such a short period of time. But if Blaise was telling the truth, that means Malfoy has been feeling this way for a long time, and seeing me again has forced those feelings to the surface.

The idea is ridiculous to me. I know what people said about me. It's downright laughable to think that desirable, flawless—in appearance, at least—irresistible Draco Malfoy would be interested in bossy, controlling, bushy-haired, bucktoothed Hermione Granger. Well, I suppose I'm not bucktoothed anymore. But still, the disparity between us is great.

Logically, then, it shouldn't bother me if he denies that those feelings ever existed. It's what's to be expected. But somehow, I just know that I'll feel disappointed when he does. If he admits that what Blaise said is true, I think I'll be in shock.

I'd have to reject him, wouldn't I?

Harry and Ron both can't stand him. He's Malfoy. I'm surprised that my first instinct wasn't to reject the notion of being with him right away. I suppose it could be because everything is purely theoretical right now—when it's really happening… I'll probably act reflexively and say that it's impossible.

Then the door opens, and he's standing in the doorway.

God, what am I going to do?

I manage a weak smile.

"You're back," I say.

His eyes study me, and he looks uncertain. "Yes, but only for a moment," he replies. "I have to go."

I feel my smile fading. I should probably feel relieved that he'll be gone, because I'll have some time to avoid asking him that question, but instead, I'm disappointed that he'll be gone.

Oh, no. Doesn't that answer my own question for me? Now I don't even know if I could reject him…

If he really does like me, that is.

"Already?" I ask.

"There are some things that I have to do."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Are you leaving now?"

He nods.

Why so soon, I want to ask. But it could very well be something that he has to do for Voldemort.

I shift my gaze upward to get a good look at his grey eyes.

"Then, take care of yourself, Malfoy."

His expression is unreadable, and yet again I find myself wishing that I had access to his thoughts. If only he weren't such a powerful Occlumens.

"I will," he says. "Bye, Granger."

I blink once, and he's gone.

There's an odd hollowness in my chest as I stare at the space where he stood a few seconds ago. Wow… I didn't even realize how much I didn't want him to go.

I decide that it's only because I don't want to be alone—I couldn't possibly miss Malfoy that much. I just don't like being left alone in an empty house. I don't really want to feel his arms around me. I'm just reluctant to be alone here.

Ugh, I can't even convince myself. How pathetic.

A few minutes later, the door swings open, startling me. My eyes drop to see a house elf standing in the doorway hesitantly.

"Hello, Miss Granger," he says. "Naree is here to serve you."

I frown. "Where did you come from?"

"Master gave orders. Naree is to wait until Miss Granger finishes her meal before answering her questions."

Naree the house elf snaps his fingers, and a large tray laden with plates of food floats into the room. My mouth immediately begins to water—with all the thoughts in my head, I'd hardly noticed that I was hungry. I save my questions for later and focus on the food that's been prepared for me.

About twenty minutes later, I finish eating, and Naree levitates the tray back out of the room. Then he bows respectfully.

"Miss Granger may ask her questions now. Naree is prepared to answer."

"Can you just call me Hermione?" I ask.

"Naree does not wish to be disrespectful of someone Master holds in such high regard."

"Explain how he holds me in 'high regard'."

"Today is the first time Naree has ever seen Master's home," the house elf says. "Naree only has the privilege because Miss Granger is here."

More and more evidence points to the possibility that he cares for me.

"Do you work for all of the Malfoys?" I ask. "Or do you only serve one master?"

"Naree must take orders from all of Master Draco's family. But Master's orders take precedence over all the others."

"And what are your orders right now?"

"Naree is to take orders from Miss Granger until Master returns."

Interesting. Malfoy left a house elf for me? I suppose I could take advantage of that—Naree appears to be his personal servant, so he must know quite a bit about Malfoy.

"What's your opinion of Malfoy?" I ask him. "How does he treat you?"

The house elf shuffles his feet hesitantly. "Master said not to tell you too much about him."

"Well, this isn't really about him, is it? I'm asking for your opinion, and about how you're treated," I say.

Naree looks at me suspiciously, and it seems like he doesn't trust me. But a moment later, he begins to speak.

"Naree likes to please Master. Naree is much better off than the other house elves. Master never punishes Naree."

Never? That's surprising, given Malfoy's upbringing in a home where elitism is encouraged. I remember what a horrible state Dobby was in and take a closer look at Naree. He doesn't bear any marks of abuse, and while he still wears a pillowcase, it's perfectly clean.

"Really?"

Naree nods. "Master even forgives Naree when he is forced… forced…"

I frown as Naree's eyes fill up with tears. "Who forces whom to do what?" I ask gently. "Does Malfoy force you to—"

"No, not Master!"

"Then what is it?"

"When the Dark Lord is angry, he punishes Master by forcing Naree to punish him."

That doesn't make sense. "But… if Malfoy is your master, then how can Voldemort give you the command to punish him?"

"Master gives the order. Naree cannot disobey."

Then the house elf bursts into tears.

"Oh, Naree feels awful!"

"Please, Naree, please stop crying," I say soothingly. I wish I could at least pat him on the back to comfort him, but I can't get off the bed, and he's still standing a few feet away. "You said it yourself that he doesn't blame you."

"But Naree blames himself!" he says, wiping away at his tears. "Naree hates the Dark Lord," he sniffles.

I'm surprised by how much Malfoy's servant cares for him. Surely, that's a reflection of how well Malfoy treats Naree, especially in comparison to how the other house elves in the Malfoy Manor get treated. But what if Malfoy left Naree here with orders to make me think that he was a good person? I glance over at Naree to see that he's wiping his nose on the edge of his pillowcase. If what he said wasn't the truth, then he is a very good actor.

"Naree is very sorry," the house elf says. "He got carried away."

"It's all right," I say with a small smile. "Did Malfoy tell you when he would be back?"

Naree shakes his head, big ears flopping adorably. "Does Miss Granger want anything? Naree can get it for you."

It's been a long time since I last sat down with a book, so I decide to ask him for one. Naree nods, seemingly cheered up by the fact that I need him to get something for me, and disappears with a snap of his fingers.

Ten seconds later, he returns to the room with a big volume and presents it to me.

Hogwarts, A History.

"This is one of my favorite books," I say, taking it from him.

He smiles widely. "Naree remembers. Master mentioned it before."

"Malfoy mentioned that I liked Hogwarts, A History?" I ask, surprised.

Naree nods. "Master said it's one of the most boring books he has ever read. But he doesn't let Naree put his copy back in the library."

It takes me a moment to remember that Naree is talking about the library at the Manor—of course an estate of that size would include a private library.

"Where does he keep it, if not in the library?"

"In his bedroom, of course," Naree says matter-of-factly.

God, that's almost too obvious. If he doesn't care for that book, I can't think of any reason why he would keep it in his room other than that he wants to be reminded of the reader… Too, too obvious. I wonder if Malfoy's doing this on purpose to mess with my head. That certainly seems much more likely than the possibility that he actually likes me.

But who would go to such lengths for a practical joke? I highly doubt he would risk his life just to make me think that he likes me.

If I keep thinking about this, my head is going to explode. I should confront him, talk to him about this the next time he comes back. It's tiring, thinking around and around in circles with no new conclusions; without any input from him, there isn't a way that I can come up with a definite answer.

Ugh, Blaise is right. I'm in denial. It's so obvious.

But I still feel that I should confront him about it. There's still a slim chance that this is all just in my imagination. That's probably just me, being in denial, but I suppose I won't let go of that doubt until he gives me an unambiguous answer to my question.

I'm just going to have to grit my teeth and ask.

I look up to see that Naree has disappeared.

With a sigh, I open the book to the first page, and the musty, familiar smell of an old book wafts over me. It feels good to finally be holding a book in my hands again. With this book, I can get Malfoy out of my head, for at least a good hour or two.

Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know, you want them to just talk already. I promise it's going to happen soon. And now, it might be a few days before I post again. Thanks for sticking with the story this far!