Chapter Eleven
Hermione Granger woke groggily the next morning. Well, that is to say, the next afternoon. It was half-past noon when she was finally able to pull herself from her fitful sleep. Unlike in the stories she had heard, there was no split second of peaceful bliss before reality flooded over her. Reality had followed her to sleep, leaving her to dream of Ron dumping her over and over again in increasingly humiliating settings. It wasn't until she had dreamed of him leaving her for Umbridge, saying that at least Dolores wouldn't lie to him, that she was able to pull herself from her dream state. As she did, fresh tears flooded her eyes, and the thought almost tempted her back to sleep. Almost.
It took her nearly another hour before Hermione was able to drag herself away from the comfort of her covers. The sun shining through the crack of her curtains seemed to insist on some movement. Thus, she threw off her covers and tore open the curtains shading her. The light seemed to burn too brightly in her eyes, eating at her already sour mood.
Rising from her bed, Hermione began the trudge down to breakfast. Winding slowly between armchairs and study tables, she made her way towards the portrait hall.
"Erm- Hello."
The gruff greeting gave Hermione such a start, that she nearly stepped on Crookshanks who had been trailing behind her. Clutching her chest, she watched as the end of an orange tail disappeared under a chair. Looking around for the culprit of her fright, she spotted white-blonde hair peeking out from behind an armchair. Underneath the irritatingly styled hair were sheepish eyes. At the look on Hermione's face, Draco quickly swiveled around in his seat, clearly not wanting to aggravate her more.
"What are you doing in here Malfoy?" Hermione was so angry that she could almost feel the steam streaming from her ears.
In response, Draco jumped from the chair as if caught in a terrible act, but his eyes shone with innocence. "I- erm- Don't you remember what the Headmistress said? About me staying here while-"
"Yes yes I know the renovations!" lied Hermione. "But why are you hanging about the Common Room as if you own the space?" She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What are you up to Malfoy?" With each question she took a step closer to him. He fidgeted like a nervous ferret, trying very hard not to look at her. "You aren't planning to spy on me are you? You weren't planning to cozy up to me during holidays, were you? Not planning on pretending to be my friend so you can get information on Harry Potter or what we did last year? Are you hoping to worm secrets out of me to make you seem cooler in you slithering friend's eyes? Or are you trying to get information to spill to your murdering father?" By the time the question had finished leaving her lips, Hermione had regretted it.
Instantly, rage swelled up behind Draco's eyes, and heat seemed to jump off of him like a fire. The lack of proximity left Hermione feeling almost fearful. She expected him to yell at her, but his voice came out soft and restrained.
"Don't pretend you know anything about me Granger. You don't know about me or my friends. And you certainly don't know anything about my family." She could almost see the air coming out of his nostrils like dragon's fire. "Clearly, you are not yourself, so I'll let your comments go. But if you ever accuse me again-" Draco allowed his sentence to trail off, his threat hanging openly in the air between them.
Hermione gulped, unable to take the step-back necessary to take a proper breath. The angry heat had shifted into something similar to what she had felt months before. She watched as Draco's eyes searched her own, flickers of his fiery anger still visible behind them. For a moment, she even thought she saw him glance down at her lips.
A large growl erupted from Hermione's stomach making Draco jump slightly. She took the opportunity to take several steps backwards towards the portrait hole.
"I'm sorry" she whispered, barely audible over the crackle of the fireplace. "You're right. I'm not myself right now. You must't take anything I say to heart." Draco nodded his head once in understanding. Feeling the conversation close, Hermione turned to head to breakfast.
"Lunch ended hours ago. You'll have to go down to the kitchens to get food."
Hermione blinked once, "What time is it?"
"Almost 2 O' Clock."
She bit her lip in her habitual nervous manner. "I'd hate to disturb the house elves at this time."
"Why? That's the whole reason they're here. To serve us."
Hermione felt anger burn up in her again, but the genuine confusion on Draco's face gave her pause.
"Just because they choose to serve does not mean I should treat them like my slave. They work hard, and I must admit they enjoy it, but they ought to be treated with much more respect than they are. For years I have seen the terrible treatment that these elves must suffer. Many die in service to their masters. I hate it."
It was Draco's turn to blink in confusion. For the first time in a long time, he thought about Dobby, the house elf his family had owned for many years. It was Harry Potter who had granted him his freedom, and Harry Potter who he had died for. With a twinge of jealousy, Draco wondered what it would be like to be served due to loyalty instead of obligation. He shook his head clearing it.
"Fine, I'll go ask for you."
"No Draco! Don't you get it? They are not at our beck and call and I refuse to treat them as if they are." Hermione's eyes blazed, her arms crossed in defiance. Draco smiled, happy to see her looking more like her usual self. And, he admitted to himself, she sure does look cute when she's angry.
"Fine," he said, throwing up his hands in mock frustration, trying to hold down the smile from his lips, "Leanne left me a couple of treats. She said they were strictly for eating when I became utterly and inconsolably bored, but I suppose what she doesn't know can't hurt her."
The rest of the pair's day was spent almost exclusively curled up in armchairs by the common room fire. While Hermione did not particularly feel up to company, she felt obligated to at least sit in Draco's presence after he had so graciously shared his food with her. At one point, Headmistress McGonagall had stopped in to check on them. She had been slightly concerned at Hermione's absence during the first two meals, but was calmed by her promise to attend dinner.
Hermione tried very hard to read through her volume of Magical Fables and Their Historical Foundations. With determination she read word by word, only to realize she had not actually comprehended what she had read. Her thoughts refused to stay entranced by the pages before her. Instead, they kept floating off to Ron and his whereabouts. She wished she too could be spending her holiday at the Burrow. She thought about what it would be like this year, spending two weeks with the Weasleys. Their holidays together had looked so different during the war that she couldn't quite imagine it. Still, her mind tried.
In the end, with a sigh of defeat, Hermione closed her book and indulged her whirling mind. She gazed deeply into the fire, watching as the flames danced wildly, imagining being with the Weasleys or her parents.
Draco suddenly appeared before her, blocking her view of the fire and breaking her trance.
"Let's go for a walk."
Hermione looked at him, confusion written clearly across her face. In response, he simply rolled his eyes, digging his hands deeper into his pockets and shrugging his wide shoulders.
"We've been sitting inside all day long and you're starting to freak me out with the staring thing. A walk will do us both some good."
Nodding in agreement, Hermione tried to lift her stiff body from the armchairs. She walked awkwardly towards the portrait hole as life slowly returned to her legs.
Draco wondered if the curly haired girl walking beside him could hear the thundering thumping of his heart. That day had been one of the best days he had had in a while. Sure, they hadn't really spoken to each other for a majority of it, but the silent companionship had been just what his soul needed to be restored. And now, even with the freezing wind pushing insistently against his back, he felt absolutely content with her by his side.
Hermione was burrowed deep into her scarf, a sliver of her nose and eyes being the only thing visible to Draco. She had conjured them both a warm blue fire that she placed delicately in identical jars. This had been something Draco had seen her do many times growing up. It had been during those times that he could not help but watch her in the shadows. There she would be with Harry and Ron sitting in a circle, their backs to the blue glowing flame, talking comfortably with each other. He glanced back at her again, trying not to be obvious. She still hadn't said much to him as they strolled through the abandoned grounds of Hogwarts, but she no longer held a far-away look.
"Have I got something in my hair?" Hermione asked. Though he couldn't see them, he was sure her eyebrows were quirked behind her hat.
"Yeah- I mean no- I mean" Draco paused, unsure if he was still allowed to make invading observations. Deciding he did not care, he hurried on, "I thought you would be with your family or the Weasleys for Christmas."
She stopped in her tracks and Draco turned in time to watch her eyes turned as cold as the air around them. "Well you thought wrong." Quickening her step to outstrip him, it was clear that she had no intention of telling him why.
"Hermione! Wait up! I'm sorry if you're offended it wasn't my intention." Her silence was answer enough. "Well, I'm sure you're wondering the same about me."
"Actually," her voice was still chilled, "I wasn't."
Draco grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face him. The cold seemed to be creeping under his coat and into his heart. He could almost see the wall up behind Hermione's eyes. If only he had listened to Professor Snape when he had suggested that he learn Occlumency.
"What in Merlin's Beard is wrong with you today Granger? You're sleeping in late, you can't concentrate on your precious books, and you're acting like an absolute brat."
"It's none of your business Malfoy." She tried turning, but her wrist was still carefully captured in his grasp.
"Actually, it is my business because I'm the one that needs to deal with you for the next two weeks. If you've got a problem with me, we're dealing with it right now."
Draco could feel a fresh gust ripple through his exposed hair, and with it an urge to chatter his teeth. Hermione's nose was now rosy-red. She stood defiantly before him, and he could imagine the straight line her lips had formed underneath her scarf. Still, her eyes swam with thoughts, and he knew he would get his answer soon.
Finally, she said, "It's not about you- Well it is, but I haven't got a problem with you, so you really needn't worry about it. In exchange, I promise I will stop treating you poorly."
"Not good enough Granger."
Hermione's face glowed with anger. Ripping her scarf from her mouth, she screamed, "What do you want me to say Malfoy? You have no right to my life! We aren't even friends!"
A familiar feeling rippled over Draco at her words. Hot rage, pride, and disdain mixed together in a way that felt like coming home. He looked down at the girl he knew he loved breathing slowly in and out through his nose. His eyes glowered down at Hermione, but to her credit, she maintained the contact, fighting him with just her eyes. Slowly, much more slowly than it came on, the feeling crept away. He was left feeling hollow and cold.
Releasing her wrist from his grip, Draco turned back to the castle, trudging through the snow that begun to fall. Maybe this was a mistake, he thought. We fight all the time, and I'm not sure that two weeks in mutual isolation is going to help that. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed her to answer. Maybe-
"Draco please wait up!" He turned to see Hermione running after him. He dutifully waited, taking the time to once again observe her. How could he have been angry with her only minutes before? Now, running clumsily against the wind and through the snow, she looked almost like an angel to him.
"I'm sorry Draco. I didn't mean what I said about us not being friends. We are friends. I'm not even sure when or how it happened. So, let's not fight anymore." Hermione was now standing very close to him. She was looking down, trying, he assumed, to look somewhat ashamed. He noticed that she was using him as a human blockade against the wind, her scarf still dangling loosely from her neck. Her teeth visibly chattered, and he thought he could see the rest of her body trembling from the cold. Taking her scarf gingerly in his hands, he wrapped it tightly against her face, and he watched as her eyes flickered in surprise to his own. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her exposed ear.
"It's cold. Let's go inside Hermione." Tugging her hat down far over his eyes, Draco let out a hardy laugh. She glowered at him, though the sparkle of joy in her eyes could not be mistaken. He began to run, and laughing, Hermione followed.