Chapter 5: A Strange Juxtaposition
Malfoy's cottage was a strange juxtaposition of old and new - it was like what she'd expected but at the same time very much not.
The furniture was obviously expensive, but old. Antique but from the last century. There was lots of dark wood pieces that should have looked out of place in the small space but just made it look… academic. Regal even, in a really country kind of way.
The second thing that surprised her was there were a lot of books. Every wall held a built-in bookcase and the shelves of some of them were positively heaving with the amount of literature on them. She hadn't realised Malfoy had liked to read but then again, he had only been a couple of points behind her in all of their classes together so she felt silly for not putting two and two together.
She felt a little more human after a shower, curled up on Malfoys expensive leather couch wrapped in the softest blanket she'd ever felt. She'd found a plain black t-shirt and some sweat pants right where he'd said they'd be, in the bottom drawer of his bedroom and it helped that she wasn't wearing that awful dress anymore. With a bareface, she felt more like herself than she had all day. She felt like she could think clearly again.
She couldn't stay here, obviously. She would have to go home at some point, but she wanted to talk to Malfoy first. She wanted to thank him for being so damn decent in the face of what she could only describe as a psychotic break. After that she was going to find an inn to stay at for the night.
She'd sent her patronus to Ron after she'd made herself a jam sandwich, and it had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. For almost an hour she'd spoken words to her little otter only to immediate erase them. She did that so many times her Otter actually looked like it was fed up with her. It was then that she decided to just send it. Nothing she could say would make anything ok and the longer she drew it out the worse the migraine behind her eyes was getting.
That migraine only got worse when she received his little Jack Russell with the reply.
"Don't be sorry, Hermione. I…I love you too, ok? Always." The little dog had looked so forlorn that she wished she could scoop it into her arms and hug it.
Instead, as it disappeared into a burst of stars, she put her head on the arm of the chair and closed her eyes.
She was utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically and it wasn't until the sound of a key in a lock roused her that she even knew she'd fallen asleep. She clutched both the blanket and her wand tightly as Malfoy walked through the door, slipping off his shoes before looking up.
"I thought you might have left." He said, flicking the lightswitch. The room filled with warm light and she blinked against it, the pain behind her eyes making her hiss. He winced and turned them off again. "Sorry." He said quietly, running a hand through his hair.
"Not yet." She shook her head, words barely a whisper. "I… wanted to apologise and thank you." She drew her knees to her chest and circled her arms, as if it would hold her together. "I'm… I'm sorry I was so horrible out there on the street. I… I didn't mean it. Not really. It's just…"
She didn't know how to continue. Didn't know how to explain that what he'd said right before he'd left for his date had stuck with her
The war had changed everyone. Everyone she knew had changed in one way or another, so why would he be any different? She'd even testified for his innocence, had thought many times through their lives that he had been a victim of his parents, his upbringing and his blood. He hadn't asked to have the parents he did; and she certainly knew he hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore.
There'd been good in him, there had to have been and she'd once rationalised that he got it from his mother. Narcissa had lied directly to the Dark Lord's face when she'd proclaimed Harry dead. She'd been key in their defeating him, she'd changed her heart so they could; so why couldn't Malfoy potentially change?
"What could you possibly have to apologise for, Granger?" Malfoy asked with a sigh as he sank into a plush armchair by the empty fireplace.
"Vomiting on your shoes? Ruining your date?" She said hesitantly, looking at her hands. Ginny had made her get her nails done; French white, almond shaped. They made her hands look different. Neater and cleaner somehow. Although that could have been because she'd been made to scrub all the ink stains off her fingers too…
"Shoes can be replaced and Poppy wasn't exactly a date. She's nice enough but she's…"
"She was very pretty."
"Exactly." He sighed. Hermione watched him curiously for a moment, one brow rising.
"It wasn't a date because she's pretty?" She asked before she could stop herself.
Malfoy sighed and ran a hand over his face.
"It's complicated, I suppose. She lives a village over, Tim said she was interested so I asked her for drinks. I didn't really feel a connection so I – "
"A connection?"
"Yes, Granger, a connection." He drawled and she almost laughed at how very Malfoy-Like that had been. He was still there a little and honestly that small amount of normal was welcome at that moment. "Regardless, you didn't ruin anything and shoes can be replaced."
Her brow furrowed.
"Why don't you clean them up with your wand?"
"Because I don't use it anymore." He replied as simply as that. Her brow furrowed further.
"You don't?" But even as she asked she realised that she hadn't seem him use it. Other than apparating them to his kitchen he'd turned lights on at the switch, had used a key to get in and out of the cottage and had boiled a kettle on the stove.
"No." he said the word with such finality that she couldn't figure out how to respond. He continued before she could ask more. "Have you heard from anyone since you've been here?"
"I sent a patronus to Ron and he returned one. He wants me to go home but I… I can't tonight." She shook her head as her throat thickened. "Do you know if there's an inn in the village? Or where the closest one is?"
"There's one at the Silver Otter but it's late and Tim will be closing up…" He shook his hand and shrugged a shoulder. "Just stay here, Granger. There's a spare room and I'm assuming you have no muggle money on you since you didn't pay for your drinks at the pub."
She gasped. She'd completely forgotten to settle her tab. Her face flooded with heat and she made to get up.
"Holy fuck, I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Malfoy waved his hand, amusement playing out on his features. "I paid. It's settled." He paused. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear more than I have today."
"I'll pay you back." She insisted, ignoring his jab at her propriety.
"Don't worry about it." He said again and rose from the arm chair. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"Then go to bed, Granger. You look like you could do with some sleep." He gave her a tight smile as he passed through on the way to the kitchen.
"Is that your way of telling me I look like shit."
He paused in the doorway, his features darkened by shadow but she was sure he was smiling a little.
"The nice way, sure."
Hermione rose from the couch and watched him warily.
"I didn't realise you knew what the word nice meant." She deadpanned. It earned her a slight chuckle, his shoulders shaking from it.
"Stranger things have happened, Granger."
And if she didn't know any better, she would have sworn she saw him wink before he disappeared.
As sunlight streamed through the window - the one that was on the exact wrong side of the room- it took a Hermione a few disorientating moments to remember where she was and what had happened for her to end up there. Her head still pounded as she sat up in the luxuriously soft sheets and she squinted at the pale blue curtains for a moment until the memories clicked into place.
Her wedding day.
Running away.
Drinking to almost oblivion and then hurling on Draco Malfoy's shoes.
It could have been a fever dream save for the fact that her wedding dress was slung over the back of a chair in the corner and the view outside the window was of rolling green hills instead of a city street.
She groaned and flopped back into the cloud-like pillows, pulling the duvet over her heard until she was enclosed in darkness.
She didn't want to face the day. She knew she had to go home, knew she had to face what she'd done to Ron and his whole family. She'd have no one after this she was sure of it. Her whole life was tied up with the Weasleys and she didn't know where to go from that point.
They owned a flat together. She had no family of her own. The Wizarding World had been waiting for their marriage for so many years… She'd ruined everything, but it was her own fault so the quicker she got herself together the sooner it would be over. For someone who always thought two or three steps ahead, she'd really cocked up this one.
The landing outside the room was silent when she opened the door. The whole cottage was silent and she wondered exactly what time it was. She ventured down stairs after using the washroom, swishing some water around her mouth to get rid of the taste of sleep. She tried to tame her hair as best she could into a bun but she knew she looked a state.
She braced herself for a scathing comment from Malfoy as she entered the kitchen but was pleasantly surprised when all he said was "Tea?"
"Yes, please." She nodded, taking stock of the kitchen when she hadn't the night before.
It was light and airy, with an old stone oven taking up almost one wall. A butchers block sat before it, following the line of the L-bench that ran along the adjacent wall. There were modern appliances, brushed in black powder-coat to make them look old fashioned and it surprised her that he'd really embraced the muggle way.
There was a table on the far side, in front of some wide windows, but it was covered with papers, books and a computer, so she chose to sit at the butchers block and watch as Malfoy pottered around a kitchen.
"Did you sleep ok?"
"Fine, thanks." Fine was a lie. She slept so well that she thought she might have died. The bed was so luxuriously soft she was almost tempted to ask where he'd gotten the mattress. And the sheets, merlins beard the sheets, were the smoothest things she'd ever felt. She'd wondered briefly what it was like to be naked under them. They'd feel like clouds against her skin.
"Good." He murmured, lifting an old fashioned kettle from the stove to pour into her tea cup. He added some milk and a sugar, exactly the way she liked it, and pushed it toward her. "Are you hungry?"
"Um, a little." She admitted, bewildered that he knew her tea and watched as he reached for some bacon and eggs from the fridge. "Wait, stop. What are you doing?" She asked and he looked at her, perplexed.
"Cooking?"
"You cook?"
"Yes Granger, I live alone. I have to cook."
Gods that drawling way of speaking still make her want to rip his eyes out; but there wasn't the same malice in the words. He was sarcastic yes, but he wasn't trying to hurt her.
"Why?"
"Because it's 10 in the morning and I'm hungry. You're also hungry so… Breakfast?" He placed the eggs on the counter as if it were obvious. She sighed. She was so ridiculously on edge and still couldn't believe he was being so nice. He turned his back to her to begin cooking and she noticed he was dressed even less formally than the previous day – simple cotton pants and a black t-shirt, similar to the one she had on. It was honestly bizarre and she knew no one would ever believe her even if she could tell someone.
This was Draco Malfoy after all. An almost-war criminal and Harry's schoolyard enemy. If she was outcasted for breaking off the wedding then they'd certainly never talk to her again if they found out about this.
They sat in a kind of amicable silence whilst he cooked. Her eyes went to the window and the expanse of green countryside beyond. It was peaceful and even though she was trying to plan her attack, the image put her at ease.
She couldn't go back to her home, but she needed some things. She needed to contact Harry and get him to take Ron out of the flat so she could quickly pop in, and then she needed to find a place to stay. Maybe she'd come back to the Lakes and settle into an inn for a little while. This quiet existence was actually quite lovely, maybe Malfoy was on to something here.
"How long have you lived here?" She asked out of the blue, tearing her eyes away from the windows. He turned from the stone and slid perfect eggs onto a plate piled with toast and bacon and grilled tomatoes. Her mouth watered as he slid it toward her.
"Since the war ended and the hearings were done with." He replied, taking his own seat beside her. "Once I was cleared of charges and father ended up in Azkaban, I made sure mother was taken care of and safe – and then I packed up a few things and left. I had nothing, it was the most half-cocked plan, but it was the best thing I ever did for myself."
For himself. He did this for himself because, she suspected, a lot of the things he'd done hadn't been his wants at all. He'd done what had been expected of him and she knew a little of what that was like.
"What made you choose here?" She asked, wondering how far her curiosity could push before he told her to mind her own business.
"It was quiet and peaceful. There was no one who knew my name or where I'd come from."
"They called you Derek last night." She noted, remembering how strange it had been to hear that name instead of Draco.
He smiled and nodded.
"I needed an identity in the muggle world, Granger. Derek Black is what ended up on the papers and I kind of liked it. Much less conspicuous than Draco Malfoy."
Her lips twitched and she nodded.
"Much." She agreed. There was so much more she wanted to ask him – how did he get those papers, where did his money come from – but she held back. He didn't have to tell her anything and she shouldn't want to know.
They ate in silence for a few minutes more, elbows knocking together occasionally.
"What are your plans?" Malfoy broke the silence first, pushing his now empty plate away from him.
"I need to go home and get a few things, then I'll find an inn to stay at. Somewhere in the countryside is lovely… or maybe I'll go to France. Get away completely… I've got leave from work for the next two weeks so I will have to sort my life out in that time."
"You can stay here as long as you need." He said, catching her by surprise. She turned bodily to look at him, noting the way he wouldn't look at her and the way he spoke directly into his plate. "If it's easier, I mean… It's quiet and I work most days anyway so I'll keep out of your way."
"I don't… know…"
He looked at her then, his grey eyes cautious and soft. The sincerity behind them gave her a moment to pause and she chewed on her lip, breakfast forgotten for the moment.
It was nice here and if he was working and wouldn't be around it would give her a chance to be alone. It was one less stress she'd have to deal with too because exchanging wizard coin for muggle money was a bit of a bitch to do and required her to go to Gringrotts– which required her to go to Diagon Alley where there'd be plenty of people all talking about her.
"It's up to you," he said quietly. "If it makes it easier for you."
"You wouldn't mind?"
"No Granger, I wouldn't ask if I minded." He shook his head. He looked quieter somehow, withdrawn, as if all the arrogance had been forced out of him. His fingers drummed lightly on the counter. Nerves, she realised. Something she'd never thought she'd see on Draco Malfoy. He hadn't even looked nervous at his trial.
"Do you happen to have a phoneline?" She asked, remembering suddenly that Harry had a mobile phone she could call. They'd each gotten one as a joke to show Arthur, but they'd both liked the muggle aspect of keeping in touch with each other.
"Yeah, on the wall, although it never gets used." He nodded to something behind her and she turned. A simple, white corded phone was attached to the wall beside the door to the living room. She turned back to him.
"I need to make a call before I decide anything… but thank you for the offer of a place to stay. I-I really appreciate it." She gave him a small smile before sliding off the stool.
"Why'd you do it?" He asked as she made for the phone. She paused, turning to find him also on his feet and clearing their dishes. He wasn't looking at her now which made answering easier.
"I was tired of doing things just because people expected me too." She said honestly, her throat thickening, making words difficult to bring up. "I… I love Ronald but we were the War Hero Sweethearts, the love story for the ages. I realised that I was just… doing things because it kept people happy."
Malfoy nodded slowly, an expression akin to understanding on his face.
"Good for you, Granger." He said softly as he looked up at her. "Always thought you were too good for that prat."
She scoffed, an actual laugh escaping her lips.
"I was mudblood scum to you, Malfoy. You didn't give me half a thought at all." She said as she turned to the phone and dialled Harry's number.
