Hermione tiredly stepped out of the shower and dried her hair with her wand. Slipping on comfortable pajamas that she conjured and putting on a stray blue robe that she found in the bathroom, she shuffled out and saw Draco curled up on his side, sleeping like a baby on their bed. Their bed. Hermione felt a deep feeling of apprehension as she realized that this was happening, they were really married.

She glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty. A stiff grey armchair sat in the corner, and Hermione decided to sleep there instead of next to Draco. She padded over on bare feet and struggled to get a comfortable position in it to sleep. Eventually, she used a charm to make it bigger and was able to stretch out her legs.

Draco's eyes were dark curved lines as they slept, and his arms were tucked close to his body protectively. His blond hair stuck out everywhere over his eyes and ears and his face was smushed against the pillow. He looked like a sleeping angel. Hermione looked over at him and resisted the urge to pull the covers up to his chin and kiss him good-night. He was so adorable.

Then, she rolled her eyes as she realized what she was thinking and settled in for an uncomfortable night's sleep.

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Hermione woke up with a start, flinching at the streaming sunlight and cold morning air. She groaned louder than she thought and sniffed her nose. She stretched her limbs and back and looked at the still naked Draco. He was still sleeping.

The clock announced it was eight in the morning. Hmm… Hermione thought. He's been sleeping for a full nine hours. Outside, it was sunny and bright, the world was already awake. Hermione paced around the room, not knowing what to do. She put her hair up in a ponytail and washed her face. She considered waking up Draco, but she didn't want to touch his bare skin or see his eyes. Biting her lip, she hugged her abdomen tight to silence the grumbles of hunger from her empty stomach. She groaned again in annoyance.

Deciding she could not take it any longer, she gathered up her courage and walked out of the room in a pair of warm slippers. She would look for someone in the house and ask how to get to the kitchen. She prayed to God that it wouldn't be Narcissa Malfoy. She walked down the hall and found the stairs leading downstairs to the ground floor.

She wandered around some halls and rooms but got no where. Finally, a room seemed a bit familiar to her, and she recognized it as the garden parlor. She cringed at the bad memories that occurred here but at the same time felt relieved that she found a place she remembered.

She traced her steps back to the kitchen where Draco had brought her and finally found the door to it. She could practically taste the delicious and buttery smells that wafted out throughout the air. Now dizzy with hunger, the young witch pushed open the door and saw a bustling room filled with busy elves and cooking machines.

The scents of food nearly overwhelmed her as she spotted a tray of freshly baked breakfast biscuits on the counter. Her needy fingers floated towards it unconsciously, and soon Hermione had a rich, flaky baked good in her hands. She took a bite, and another, her senses filled with the delicious tastes of it.

Some elves stared at her strangely but let her eat. One elf even offered her tea. She accepted, and soon her belly was satisfied.

Then she remembered Malfoy sleeping upstairs and thought he may be hungry as well. She contemplated bringing one biscuit for him also. How would he think of me? Would he take it? Would he appreciate it?

Hermione convinced herself that she didn't care about what Malfoy thought. She wrapped one in a piece of white cotton and rhythmically swung it around as she made it slowly up to her room. It felt hot through the cloth so she switched hands periodically.

When she opened the door to her room cautiously, she found that her husband was half awake and sitting up in the bed. Immediately her hands hid the biscuit behind her back. He squinted at her and studied her for a second, then yawned widely while stretching his arms. The blanket fell off of him; thankfully he was now wearing a pair of pajama bottoms.

His grey eyes fully opened to look at her. One eyebrow arched. "You're wearing my robe? And my slippers?"

She shrugged and answered back, "And you left them on the floor? And didn't get me any clothes?"

He rolled his eyes and relaxed his bare shoulders as he looked out the window. "What are you hiding behind your back?"

Hermione silently cursed to herself and composed her face. "What do you mean?" The butter and oil started to seep through the cloth.

"You're hiding something behind your back." He turned back to her with an annoyed and exasperated expression.

She frowned at him, defeated, and looked down. "It's a biscuit." She blushed slightly. "For you."

He smirked and swung his legs off the bed. He advanced upon her slowly, making her nervous. Finally he was inches from her, his head right above her face, and she cowered. He smiled, amused at her reaction, and reached behind her to take the roll of bread from her bent, clammy fingers. "I'll take that, thank you very much."

He unwrapped it and looked in slight surprise at the crumbled and misshapen roll. He set it on a bedside table as he shot his wand at the bed and the blankets began to make themselves. Hermione wondered aloud, "Where are you going?"

He replied flatly, "To the bathroom." He strolled in and closed the door behind him. After a couple seconds, Hermione heard the water run. She sighed heavily and conjured another set of clothes for herself to put on. She struggled not to cry.

Finally, she decided to do something other than to cry and mope all day. She was going to explore the manor. For the second time that morning, she stepped out of the room into the unknown parts of the mansion.