"You might find it more comfortable in one of my guest chairs, Granger." Hermione turned her glazed stare to Malfoy, who had relocated and was casually lounging behind his desk.
She realized she must have been standing dazedly in front of his office door for the last few moments. She could hardly believe it to be true: she was stuck in the office of Draco Malfoy for a...well, for an indeterminable amount of time.
The fact most alarming to Hermione-the number one reason why she was apprehensive about her sudden quarantine with the Slytherin-was not because she disliked him. Oh, no-quite the opposite. It was because her opinion of Draco Malfoy had nearly done a complete one-eighty in the last month, and she was damned close to total and utter infatuation.
The truth of it took her quite by surprise, but, the moment she realized she was stuck, she flushed and her pulse started racing. The normally unflappable Hermione Granger was aflutter at the thought of being confined in a room with Draco Malfoy.
Hermione contemplated the patterns on the carpet beneath her feet as she concentrated on taking deep breaths. She certainly wasn't going to let the situation get the better of her. She needed her wits about her when dealing with Malfoy...the silver tongued snake.
Calmed by the reappearance of her sanity, she walked slowly to a guest chair and sank gratefully into its plushness. The light throbbing at the soles of her feet an indication of just how long she had been standing motionless at his door.
"I wonder..," Malfoy mused. She glanced up at him but his gaze was thoughtful as he perused his surroundings. Her eyes narrowed warily as she waited. Something in the back of her mind whispered to her to be at the ready.
Tentatively, Hermione stepped into what seemed to be a very obvious verbal trap. "Dare I ask what is it that has you wondering...?"
In an instant, the grey eyes refocused on her staring straight at her with an unflinching gaze. "I am wondering whether it is the assumed threat of a Code Red lockdown that has you panicked or the thought of being clustered in this office with me." There was a pinching at the corners of his mouth that implied some unknown emotion hovering just below the surface he kept in check. He continued on. "From what I do know of you Gryffindors, I'm going to safely conclude that the threat of this lockdown has little to do with your alarmed look moments ago. If anything, I'm surprised you haven't charged out of the office to bravely save the day," his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hermione didn't like where this was going. He saw far more than what she was comfortable with. The question was did he realize why she was apprehensive?
When his brow furrowed and his eyes moved to stare at a point somewhere beyond her left shoulder, she realized that he was actually upset. This wasn't outrage or any emotion close to anger-he was genuinely bothered by something. This did not seem to fit with the Malfoy she had come to know this past month.
"So, we're back to this, are we?" At her perplexed look, he motioned impatiently with his hands. "This! You hate the idea of being stuck here with me-I mean, you looked like a frightened rabbit about to bolt, for Merlin's sake!"
It was then that she knew he was upset that Hermione could possibly still hate him. She softened with a slight smile, the tension leaving her body. The day had come that Hermione Granger was witnessing vulnerability from Draco Malfoy and it was because of her.
At her quiet laugh, his eyes narrowed. "Malfoy, you give yourself too much credit in assuming that you inspire any emotion as strong as 'hate' within me." She smiled sweetly.
He emitted a surprised snort and the corner of his mouth tilted in amusement. "Ah, so then it must be that you've lost your Gryffindor spirit," he smirked.
Hermione heaved a mental sigh of relief-she much preferred him this way even if he was occasionally irritating. She had discovered that she rather enjoyed their verbal back-and-forths. To actually spar with someone that seemed to possess an equal amount of wits was exhilarating. She found herself looking forward to each meeting more and more as the weeks progressed.
She broke their minute of companionable silence, "So, how long does a 'Code Red lockdown' usually last? Are there different levels of lockdowns? Different colors? Green? Yellow?...Purple?" He quirked his brow at the last.
Amused, "Typical Granger asking tons of questions, so that she can learn everything. For the record, there won't be a test over this." She shot him a dirty look and his smirk widened. "They usually manage it straight away, but I do think this is the first red level, so who knows how long it could be before we're free."
Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "This does kind of impede productivity! I have several tasks needing to be done today!" Her notion of responsibility had cleared its way through the infatuated muddle of her thoughts.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Today? Right. Knowing you, I'm sure all of the actual deadlines are sometime next week. You've brought me the proposals I needed and that's all that matters-forget the rest and relax." Hermione hid her smile. The pompous ass was definitely back to normal.
She relaxed in her chair. "Believe it or not, you're not the only person I have a responsibility to. In fact, I usually put you last!"
"Oh, I don't assume you have me as Number One on your list of priorities. You stroll into my office after lunch-I don't even rate above food with you!" With a dramatic sigh, he slouched against the back of his chair and propped his well-shod feet on the corner of his desk.
Hermione basked in the warm glow of her contentment as they sat across from one another not needing to say anything, but merely enjoying each other's company. To think, a month ago, she hesitated as though entering the den of a dragon. And now? She pranced in merrily for her daily dose of cutting remarks. Though, she was loathe to admit it-even now-her visits to Malfoy were the bright spots of her week. His ego would double in size if ever got wind of that. As it was now, he possessed the ego of 10 men put together!
Hermione smiled to herself as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve not understanding how she could possibly like that about him, but, at the same time, not minding in the slightest. She glanced up through her lashes to inspect her cellmate. Luckily, Malfoy busied himself by twirling a quill and her perusal remained unnoticed.
She looked on, briefly hypnotized, as he dexterously maneuvered the quill between one finger and the next. She noticed he had rolled his sleeves to mid-forearm. He had, also, unbuttoned the topmost button of his collar and it lay open against upper chest. She felt heat rush to her face. Her thoughts strayed to the moment earlier when Malfoy had kissed her hand. To be exact, it wasn't a kiss, per se-more like a brushing of the lips. With just that slight contact, she had felt her entire body thrum. Attraction was a strange thing, indeed!
When she pulled her mind back to the present, Hermione found that she had been caught out. Malfoy stared back with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. To save herself, she hastily directed the subject to something innocuous. "So, how did you first get a job at the Ministry?"
He smirked, clearly aware of the diversion, but relented. He turned to gaze at the ceiling in thought. "Well, I'm sure you're aware of whom my father is, right?" Forever sarcastic. Malfoy adjusted himself in his chair to squarely face Hermione. "I spent some summers here during my teenage years doing the odd job here and there. Nothing terribly interesting. When I graduated, the director of the department contacted me. Turns out, one summer, I had done a little project for him and he was impressed. With the prejudice running rampant after the war, he took a chance and hired me on." He spread his arms wide with a "Ta-Da!".
Albeit amused, Hermione wasn't satisfied with his answer. She wanted to know more about him, she realized. "Did you face very much prejudice? Was it difficult for you?" She knew she was heading into more personal territory, but she was curious how much he would be willing to share.
Malfoy stood and moved slowly about the room stopping to inspect a painting on the wall or an object on a shelf. She thought maybe she had gone too far. "It wasn't easy. No, it definitely wasn't that." He began. "People whispering about you and openly staring at you with hate in their eyes... that doesn't make for a pleasant workday." He gave a short laugh. "I like to think it was my comeuppance, of sorts. All those times that I behaved similarly or worse to...certain individuals that I attended Hogwarts with..." Her eyes widened. Maybe it was best to switch topics...
"Malfoy..," she began, but he stopped her with a quick wave of his hand.
"Now, now, Granger, it's rude to interrupt." He glanced at her. The intensity of his eyes startled her before he looked away. "Want to hear a story?" Apparently, the question was rhetorical because he didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Now, the main character of this story is a young man. This young man was a very arrogant individual. His entire childhood he learned of prejudice and was taught to hate. He was a very good pupil; he spread his hate at every opportunity. He belittled and scorned all those he was taught to hate. He felt like a king amongst his peers until the day came where his world was shaken to its foundation. Everything he thought he knew was called into question. He felt lost in this new world and he was forced to take a long look at how he had led his life. All those that he had stepped on now looked at him with judging eyes and it was his turn to be scorned at every turn. He was sullen and resentful over his new lot in life. Alcohol became his crutch. It didn't matter that he was watched daily by eyes filled with hate-he would go home and drink 'til comatose and it all seemed bearable enough. He was miserable, but too drunk to care."
Hermione was frozen in a state of shock, hands covering her face in disbelief. And still, he went on.
"The poor sod worked every day with these people that hated him, who judged him-he couldn't escape. But, he didn't have a choice. He wanted to find his new place, so he kept coming back day after day. As cowardly as he was, he wasn't willing to give up. Then a girl from his past enters the picture. Now, out of everyone around him, she would be the person with the most reasons to hate him. And-this is where the story gets interesting-she's nice to him! This drunk bastard didn't know what to make it! He tried searching for an ulterior motive, but couldn't find one. Maybe it was pitty, who knows! Here she was holding doors open for him and bidding him 'Good Morning', and she seemed absolutely oblivious to the watchful eyes around her. She didn't realize that every single kind gesture toward He-Who-Was-Hated was observed by others. She certainly didn't notice the proverbial change of tides." He had been pacing throughout most of his story, but took a moment to plop in the second guest chair adjacent to Hermione. She couldn't look away. His every word and facial expression compelling her.
"You must be wondering what I mean by the 'change of tides'... It was all very gradual, but, after a few months, one or two others began to exchange pleasantries with him. After another few months, he would actually receive friendly acknowledgements from a handful more. His coworkers began to treat him normally. Never had this young guy felt so happy to be 'normal'! Normal, of all things... Phrases like 'good job' and 'have a nice day' were like music to his ears as starved as he was for genuine human kindness. And, not long after this, he received a promotion." He paused for a moment to observe Hermione's reaction, but she still had the lower portion of her face covered with her hands. He raised a brow.
"Well, to finish up my pathetic little story, our boy was at peace, his new life was taking shape and things were looking up. And the girl, the catalyst to the whole series of events, did not go unnoticed by him. It wasn't like he wanted to become her best friend-he still had some pride left, after all-but, just like those that hated him, his misconceptions and prejudices, also, slowly melted away and life began anew... Now, I bet you never expected that from me, Granger. It was a story that was all flowers and rainbows." His tone was light, but his stare was observant as he waited on a reaction from Hermione.
There was one thing Hermione had never been: obtuse. She knew that the girl from the story was her-why else would he tell her this story and then anxiously await her reaction? She smoothed her expression into a composed facade and lowered her hands to her lap because, beneath the surface, her thoughts were churning with questions and new discoveries, but she wasn't ready to delve into any of that.
"You're right, Malfoy, you've never come off as flowers and rainbows. Maybe dragons and volcanoes?" Her voice squeaked at the end belying her calmness. She briefly cleared her throat. Her objective was to keep the topic light. "Well, for one thing, I hope that idiot stopped drinking." Hermione attempted a bright smile, but even she could tell it was lackluster.
Malfoy sighed. "Granger-," he began, but was interrupted by second alarm. "LOCKDOWN HAS BEEN LIFTED-THIS IS A CODE GREEN. REPEAT, ALL CLEAR."
The announcement brought Hermione to her senses. She didn't waste any time; she jumped to her feet hastily. Nervously, "Wow, that is such a relief-it looks like I'll be able to finish those other projects today, especially if I hurry!" Hermione stumbled slightly in her agitation on the way to the door. With a quick half-smile to Malfoy in farewell, she bolted out of the office. The last thing she heard, as she moved along the corridor, was Malfoy shout at her: "Coward!".