A/N: I don't own HP.
This is my fave chapter so far. I hope you all like it! Shout out to the 90s kids, let me know in the comments if you recognize Draco's house elf's name!
Hermione jumped as she felt a familiar presence sit delicately on the stool next to hers.
"Malfoy! When did you get here?" She realized she had placed her hand stereotypically over her heart and removed it hurriedly, turning her attention to the blonde who was now shrugging his cloak off.
"About five minutes ago. I didn't want to intrude, so I lingered by the door until you finished your conversation with Ms. Abbott." He said, nodding his head in Hannah's direction.
"Eavesdropping while you were at it." She noted, eyes narrowing.
He smirked that classic smirk and nodded. "All of my politeness was used up by not intruding, so of course I had to eavesdrop. Keeping my ration of good and evil balanced, and all that." He joked, smiling warmly at her. "Now, are you really hungry? I can arrange for you get something to eat, if you would like?"
She was caught off guard and had to gather her thoughts before replying. Was he offering to take her out to eat? Could she do that? Well, of course she could do that, but should she? Would it be betraying Ron?
The thoughts rushed through her head in quick succession and she found herself simply replying with, "Yes, I am quite hungry but it's fine. I can just finish this drink and be on my way."
"Nonsense, Granger. No need to leave simply because there is nothing here to eat." He smirked at her again before snapping his fingers. "Muzzy!" he called out.
With a loud crack that made half the pub jump, a house elf had appeared in front of Draco.
"Yes, Master Draco, what can Muzzy do for yous?" the elf squeaked and dipped so low to the ground that his nose nearly brushed the floor. Hermione noted with a smile that the elf was wearing a tiny three piece suit, complete with tails. Leave it to Malfoy to have an impeccably dressed house elf.
"That's enough, Muzzy, stand up please." Draco commanded, albeit gently.
The elf stood up and waited for his orders.
"Fetch Miss Granger here some shepherd's pie, Muzzy. And bring a tray of fudge along, too."
The elf nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, Master Draco. Right away Master Draco. Muzzy will return in a flash!" And with a crack, the elf disappeared.
Hermione shot Draco an inquiring look.
"What?" he asked, humor dancing in his eyes. "I freed all of the Malfoy elves after my parent's deaths... Muzzy allowed me to free him, but refused to actually leave. When I purchased my townhome, he followed." Draco shrugged and glanced around the pub. A few people were still glaring at him for the fright Muzzy had given them. "He buys suits with his pay. He has a wide variety, his closet is probably more vast than my own, truth be told."
Hermione laughed at the thought of a tiny elf-sized closet jam-packed with suit after suit in varying colors and styles. It was such a ludicrous image, but it made sense. Elves tended to latch on to one item to obsess over. Dobby had his socks, Winky had her alcohol and Muzzy: his suits.
Just then Muzzy cracked back into the pub, a plate of food in his tiny hands. He held the plate out to Hermione and bowed deeply when she took it from him with a gracious thanks. He then took the small tin from under his arm and handed it to Draco. Hermione could only assume that was the fudge Draco had requested. Draco thanked Muzzy and dismissed him. With another crack the elf was gone.
"Well," Draco said, nudging Hermione's arm, "don't just look as it. Eat, Granger. I know you're hungry."
"Right, thanks. You really didn't need to do this." Hermione smiled in thanks before tucking into the meal. She had to restrain herself from moaning as she took a bite of the shepherd's pie.
Draco watched her with an amused look on his face. She felt his gaze and side eyes him and as she took another bite.
"What?" she huffed out between bites. "I haven't had shepards pie since Hogwarts. This is good."
Draco grinned in response and opened the tin to reveal chocolate mint fudge. He extended the tin to her and gave her an inquiring look. She took the last bite of pie and then reached in to nick a piece of fudge.
Before trying the fudge, she reached into her bag for a cup, which she filled with water from her wand. She took a few gulps and then nibbled on some of the fudge. This time she did moan. It was delicious! Rich and minty and the perfect consistency. After polishing off the rest of her piece of fudge, she turned to Draco.
"Thanks. For this." She said, gesturing to her now empty plate. "You didn't have to do this, I could have just eaten at home. But I appreciate it."
"You deserve to know that someone cares for you, Granger. I get the feeling you don't get told that enough."
Hermione fell silent as she let his words sink in. He kept doing this-saying things that were straight forward-and it just seemed so out of character for a man who practically bled green and silver.
She couldn't take it anymore and she just had to ask. "Why do you say things like that? Just spilling out whatever you think or feel about me. Where's that Slytherin cunning and secretiveness?"
He smiled at her, but she noted that it didn't reach his smoky grey eyes. "It's a bit of a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Well," she said, uncrossing and recrossing her legs to make herself comfortable, "I don't have any plans for the rest of the evening. If you're offering the story, then I'm here for it."
He gave a short nod and began, "As I'm sure you know, my parents both passed away a few years ago. My father passed on first, and not long after, my mother passed as well. My father had been cleaning out the Manor and came across an ancient cursed book. It must have been hidden away for years, because he had no idea what it was. The curse acted quickly and Saint Mungo's could do nothing for him."
At that, Hermione felt a pang of sympathy. She had been there before. Spell damage that St Mungo's could not fix. She reached out and placed her hand over Draco's without even thinking. His eyes widened at the sudden physical contact but he said nothing and did not remove his hand.
He continued. "My mother was heart broken, of course. She passed on suddenly in her sleep not three months after my father. It's still a mystery. No one at St Mungo's could tell me what caused her passing." He paused to take a sip of water with his free hand.
As he began again, his eyes landed, unfocused, on Hermione's hand resting on top of his own. Without seeming to think about it, he turned his hand so that instead of resting on the back of his, her hand now rested in the palm of his. One small movement by either of them and they would be holding hands. But he kept his hand flat. Her eyes widened a bit at what he seemed to be trying to accomplish, but she said nothing and didn't remove her hand. She didn't twine their fingers together either, but the continued contact seemed enough for Draco.
"When I was cleaning out the Manor months later, figuring out what to keep, donate, and so on, I came across my parents' journals. It's Malfoy tradition for the patriarch of the family to keep a journal; the library at the manor was full of them. I don't know what I expected to read in their journals, but I was stunned by what I found."
Hermione was absently stroking Draco's palm. She was listening intently to his story, but the circles she was drawing on his palm made him shiver. She looked up at him and met his eyes, her expression unreadable. "My parents had an arranged marriage. I knew that they respected each other, but I never thought that they loved each other. It wasn't something that they really talked about. My father loved to tell me that emotions made a man weak."
Draco laughed humourlessly.
"And my mother would say that emotions were best kept close to one's heart to avoid being vulnerable. As I read my father's journal I noticed something. He, like me, did not think my mother loved him. But he loved her deeply, almost reverently. He talked about how he would give anything to keep her safe, how he would not be the same man without her. I was shocked. And I was even more shocked to read my mother's diary." His palm twitched beneath hers and Hermione's fingers stilled.
"In her diary she wrote of feeling as though my father resented her. She was convinced that it was Bellatrix that my father had loved and that she would never be what he desired. And it broke her heart because she loved my father deeply, and had for years before they had even been wed."
The weight of Draco's words sunk in and Hermione entwined their fingers without much thought as she gasped. "So they both were madly in love with the other but they never told each other?" she whispered, voice thick with wonder.
"Exactly. My parents died with neither of them knowing how much the other loved them. It was a bit of an eye-opener for me. To be honest, it really messed me up. My parents were absolutely crazy about each other and no one knew. It was after reading their journals that I decided that I was done living in the land of pretending. I vowed to myself to be as authentic with the people in my life as possible. Especially the important ones." With that he gave her hand a light squeeze.
She found herself laying her other hand on top of their joined hands and leaning in closer to him. Alarms were sounding in the back of her head, but the alcohol she had consumed on top of the look in Draco's eyes made it unimportant. Draco made to lean in towards her as well, before his eyes went wide. He gave his head a slight shake and pulled back, just a bit.
That movement, the way he leaned back away from her made something in her mind click and she pulled her hands away from his and looked away quickly, feeling her face grow hot. She shoved a curl behind her ear and fidgeted with her shirt seam, trying with all her might to look anywhere but at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take a swig of his drink. She chanced a glance at him and saw his eyes roaming all over the room. He was looking everywhere, it seemed, but at her.
Her mind was racing. What would have happened had he not pulled back? Would she have actually kissed Draco Malfoy? In public? In front of a barkeep that knows both her sister-in-law and, oh yes, also her husband.
She was fully prepared to feel the disgust well up inside of her, but it never came. Instead, she felt something like regret. And not regret at almost allowing it to happen. No, she felt regret at the fact that it didn't happen.
What was wrong with her?
Hermione felt the room begin to close in on her and she realized that she had very nearly just cheated on her husband and she didn't even seem to care. She couldn't stay in the pub any longer. She didn't trust herself anymore and that scared her. She shot out of her seat, throwing some galleons on the bar as she went.
Draco's head turned at the sudden movement and their eyes met. She felt her heart flip flop and she pushed the feeling away. She couldn't do this. It wasn't her. She threw her cloak over her shoulders and mumbled out a thanks for the food at a wide eyed Malfoy who seemed rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do.
Hannah was thankfully being kept busy with customers and hadn't noticed the moment they had shared but as Hermione fled out the heavy wooden door of the pub, Hannah paused for a second. Her eyes went to Hermione's seat and she noticed Draco, still rooted to his stool with a torn expression on his face. Before she could go over and question him on what just happened, she was flagged down by a customer who asked about some of Fiona's concoctions and Hannah was quickly caught up in conversation. She didn't even notice when, a few minutes later, Malfoy had thrown his own galleons down alongside Hermione's and left the bar, an unreadable expression on his face.
Hermione didn't even manage to make it to the apparition point before she turned on the spot and found herself in the middle of her garden. The fresh air and openness of the garden made the knot that had formed in her stomach loosen and she took her first deep breath since she had rushed from the pub. Still feeling conflicted but no longer on the verge of a breakdown, Hermione let herself into the cottage. She tensed as she heard the television on. She hadn't expected Ron to be home.
"Of all the nights for him to be home at a respectable hour," she agonized to herself. There was no avoiding him, she had to walk through the living room in order to go anywhere else in the house. With a sigh she removed her cloak and set her shoes on the shoe rack by the door. Slinging her cloak over her arm she crept into the living room, hoping that Ron had fallen asleep while watching a show and that she would be spared from having to interact with him.
"Been a while since we have both been home and awake at the same time in the evening," he called out. She stiffened at his voice and then steeled herself to face him.
"You're right," she murmured, moving closer to the couch that he was lounging on, legs sprawled out in front of him, one hand behind his head as he watched some action movie. "I'm feeling a bit peaky though, I was thinking of turning in early."
He glanced at her with concern. "Are you ok? Can I get you something?"
She shook her head and gave him a tiny smile. "No, it's ok. I haven't been sleeping well, I think I just need to turn in early. See you up there though?"
He nodded, his attention already back on the telly as a car exploded into flames. "Right, right. I'll be up once this movie is over, ok? Call down if you need anything." He reached out and caught her hand as she moved to walk past him towards the stairs. It was the same hand that had been entwined with Malfoy's earlier and the thought made her heart want to both sink and sing and the conflicting feeling was enough to make her dizzy.
"You sure you're ok, Mione?" Ron asked, concern showing clearly on his face.
She forced a smile and pulled her hand from his. "I'm fine, I promise. Just ready to crash."
He nodded but still kept an eye on her as she ascended the stairs. She paced herself to avoid taking the stairs two at a time. She wasn't really feeling the least bit tired, but she knew she had to act it. She forced herself to make her way slowly to the top of the stairs. Once she reached the landing she shut herself in the bathroom.
Hermione turned the shower on full-blast and waited until the room was filled with steam before stepping in. The hot water began to loosen the knots in her shoulders and she thought of work.
She thought of Ginny and how it would be James' birthday soon. She thought of owling Rose to find out the schedule for her matches so she could be sure to attend a few of them. She thought of all of those things and stayed under the water until it went from scalding to freezing.
She turned the water off and methodically brushed her hair, dried it with a spell, and slipped into sweatpants and a Hogwarts alumni tee shirt. She laid in her bed and right before sleep took her, she finally allowed herself to remember the feel of his hand in hers. The roughness of them, the way he had upturned his hand, offering it to her but keeping the ball firmly in her court as well.
Hermione rolled over and burrowed her head into her pillow and the last thing she thought of before dreams came was his eyes and the way they made her heart skip a beat in way that it hadn't in years.