Manhattan
Chapter Ten
Hermione is awoken abruptly by the ringing of her mobile phone.
Hermione pats around blindly on her bedside table until she finds the aforementioned mobile and flicks it open, pressing it to her ear.
"Hullo?" Hermione grumbles, half of her face still smushed against her pillow.
"Ron was definitely here," the voice of her best friend, Harry Potter, states quickly from the other end of the call.
Hermione bolts upright, brushing her unruly curls out of her face. Her heart begins to hammer against her ribcage.
"How do you know?" Hermione asks, squinting her eyes to see the clock on the wall across the room from her. 8:15 a.m.
"Your parents' neighbors remember seeing him. The red hair stuck out. Your parents are fine, though. The Aurors probably scared Ron off."
Hermione worries her bottom lip, shoving her comforter off of her body and standing from her bed. She begins to pace her bedroom.
"Is he still there?' Hermione asks, cracking the knuckles on her free hand in frustration.
"No, not that I can tell. He seems to have moved on, but that doesn't mean that he has left the country. He might think you're still here."
Hermione feels simultaneously grateful and frightened. On one hand, her parents are safe. But on the other hand, Ron found them. He could always go back and use them as a way to force Hermione out of hiding. Hermione would like to think that the Ronald Weasley that she knows would never do such a thing, but the fact is that she doesn't know Ronald Weasley anymore.
Harry ends the call by reminding Hermione to be safe and telling her to update Malfoy when she sees him next.
Hermione isn't exactly sure when Malfoy leaves for work in the mornings, as she is not usually awake yet, but she assumes that he's already left, so she decides to tell him when he arrives home this evening. She doesn't think this news is important enough to bother him at work– nor does she particularly want to see him any earlier than she has to, anyway.
Hermione spends the vast majority of the day picking at her cuticles and worrying about her parents. She tries to focus on reading for a while, but when that proves to be too difficult a feat for her distracted brain, she decides to take Malfoy up on his offer to use his bathtub.
Hermione wanders into Malfoy's bedroom and if being in his flat feels wrong, then being in his bedroom feels even worse.
The first thing Hermione sees when she enters his room is his massive four-poster bed. Her bed– the one in his guest room– is luxurious. His bed is opulent– self-indulgent, even. The frame of the bed is dark wood with ornate carvings and the bedding is cream with silver embroidery. Hermione thinks that it would be quite lovely if it didn't belong to Draco sodding Malfoy.
Hermione decides against investigating Malfoy's bedroom any further– knowing what his bed looks like is probably enough to fuel her nightmares for weeks.
The door to the en suite is open, so Hermione beelines in that direction.
The bathtub is situated on the far right side of the room, and it's massive– deep and long. A smile tugs at the corners of Hermione's lips. This will help her to relax.
Hermione steps forward, up to the edge of the bathtub and turns the knobs, testing the water until it's warm. Once the temperature feels right, she allows the water to fill the bathtub. She picks up the soap that she brought in her beaded bag and squirts in a generous blob so that she will have some bubbles for her bath.
While the water fills, Hermione undresses. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her sleep shorts and drags them, along with her underwear, down her legs, leaving them to pool on the floor. Next, she tears her shirt up over her head and drops that down to the floor as well.
Once the water is filled enough, she turns the knobs off and sinks down into the bath.
Hermione closes her eyes and tips her head back against the rim of the tub, determined to relax.
Hermione, while trying to relax, cannot help the way her mind drifts.
First, her thoughts mostly surround Ron. She isn't sure that Ron would be able to track her from Australia to New York, but even still, he had found where she had been. It bothers her more than she would prefer.
Next, her mind shifts to Harry. Hermione knows that Harry is an Auror and that he is more than capable of defending himself. It upsets her to think that he might have to, however. Ron has been Harry's best friend since first year, and Hermione knows that Harry took her side in the break-up, but that doesn't mean that she would want Harry to have to oppose Ron in a duel. She would hate for it to even have to come to that.
Finally, she thinks about Malfoy. She thinks about how he brought her to stay with him in the name of safety. She thinks about the fact that he cooks. She thinks about the way that her heart jumped into her throat when she saw his bloodied face when he came home with a broken nose. It had scared her more than she would care to admit. Fortunately, she's seen few injuries of the like since the end of the War. Healing isn't a skill that she ever wanted to have to hone, but hone it, she did.
She also thinks about how she is nearly positive that she saw his eyes wandering while she healed him. This has been a point of confusion for her since that night. She knows that realistically, Malfoy could find her attractive. She supposes that someone of his beliefs could be objective, although the aforementioned wizard has never made any indication that he noticed anything about her other than her blood-status.
Then again, Hermione also feels that she would know if Malfoy still believed in blood purity. She would know by the way that he speaks to her or by the way he treats her– but he never treats her with anything other than civility.
Hermione sighs. It's one thing to have to live with her childhood-bully-turned-actual-Death-Eater, but it's another thing entirely to have noticed the aforementioned ex-Death Eater eyeing her breasts. That had been a less than ideal way of realizing that she had not been wearing a bra.
Hermione drags her wet hands down her face, hoping that the water can clear things up for her.
"Shit, sorry!"
Hermione's eyes snap open. In the doorway to the bathroom stands a shell-shocked Malfoy. His shirt is bunched around his wrists as if he'd been in the end-stages of removing it when he realized that his bathroom was otherwise occupied.
Malfoy spins, turning his back to Hermione, who realizes rather belatedly that she is naked and that her bubbles have dissipated quite a bit since she began her bath.
"No, no, don't be! I lost track of time, I just… don't look. I should get out anyway."
Hermione scrubs her hands down her face again, and tries to not watch Malfoy's back muscles ripple as he replaces his shirt onto his torso properly. Hermione catches a glimpse of a long, raised, silvery scar which seems to begin up by his ribs on his right side and curves inward toward his stomach. She can't see where it ends, but it hits Hermione with a start that she believes that she knows exactly how Malfoy got that scar.
Hermione stands, pulling the plug from the bottom of the tub to drain the water, then reaches for a towel on a shelf beside the tub and wraps it firmly around herself. She steps out of the tub and picks up her clothes from the floor, holding them to her chest as another layer of visual barrier.
"Okay, you can turn around," Hermione says, almost without realizing it. She realizes after she speaks that she could've just snuck past Malfoy and hurried into her room, but alas.
The blonde wizard turns, still pulling his shirt down over his very defined abs– not that Hermione is looking, of course. Hermione forces her gaze away from the small patch of pale skin that she can still see where his shirt has caught on his belt and attempts to look him in the eye.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize the time. I– I just needed to relax," Hermione states, biting her lip in embarrassment.
Malfoy shoves his hands into his trouser pockets.
"No, don't apologize. I should've checked before just walking in," Malfoy responds, sounding equally as uncomfortable as Hermione feels.
Hermione exhales a shaky laugh.
"No, it's your bathroom– your flat. I just– I'll–" Hermione doesn't finish her sentence, she just steps forward, attempting to flee the room.
"Wait," Malfoy says. Hermione pauses, looking up at the wizard in front of her. "You said you needed to relax. Did something happen? New news?"
Hermione frowns, nodding and adjusting her towel when it starts to loosen.
"Harry called this morning. He says that Ron was definitely in Australia– in my parents' town. Their neighbors recognized a photo of him."
Malfoy seems to ponder that for a moment.
"Did Potter locate Weasley?" Malfoy asks, removing his hands from his trousers to cross his arms over his chest.
Hermione shakes her head.
"No. Harry thinks he's moved on, but isn't positive that he's left Australia."
Hermione bites her lower lip, resisting the urge to run her fingers through her hair. Moving her hand would result in the loss of her towel and the last thing she needs is to give Malfoy even more of a show than he's already gotten.
Malfoy seems to keep his gaze trained fully on Hermione's face. The blonde wizard nods once.
"Is there any sort of trail that Weasley could pick up on and follow you to the States?"
Hermione thinks for a moment.
"I don't think so. When Harry moved me here, I took a Muggle airplane. I used a fake name. I was careful."
Malfoy nods again and seems to consider her statement before responding.
"Alright," Malfoy drops his arms from across his chest, casually tucking one back into his trouser pocket as he leans back against the bathroom door frame. "Get dressed. I'll start dinner."
Hermione decidedly does not dwell too much on the fact that she does exactly as Malfoy instructs without argument.
Hermione spends the remainder of the evening after dinner in the library– with Malfoy. Hermione still thinks that that is disconcerting if she thinks about it too hard.
Hermione scans the shelves on the left side of the library for something to read. On the second-to-highest shelf, she sees an unexpected copy of Pride & Prejudice. She reaches up to take it down to read, blowing a stray curl out of her face in frustration when she realizes that she definitely isn't tall enough to take it off of the shelf.
Hermione looks around to see if Malfoy has a step-stool because of course she forgot her wand on the bedside table in the guest room.
Hermione blames Malfoy. Having him walk half-naked in on her in the bath this afternoon has practically fried her brain. Between seeing a glimpse of his Sectumsempra scars as well as his clearly defined muscles, which up until today, had been hidden beneath layers of Auror robes, Hermione's brain has been a bit preoccupied. She hates herself for having noticed that a shirtless Malfoy isn't exactly bad to look at, but she supposes that objectively– if she removes his entire personality from the equation– she could consider him to be an attractive wizard. Especially with the horrified expression he'd made when he'd realized the state that he'd walked in on Hermione in– at least that part was funny.
Hermione stands up on her toes. Damnit. Still no dice.
"Need a hand?" Malfoy asks, and even without turning, Hermione knows that he's smirking.
Hermione rolls her eyes and spins, crossing her arms over her chest.
"If you wouldn't mind," she huffs, speaking through slightly gritted teeth.
Malfoy at least has the decency to hide his amusement with a cough into his fist as he stands and walks over so he is standing beside Hermione.
"Which book?"
Hermione points to the copy of Pride & Prejudice. Malfoy plucks it off of the shelf with hardly even a stretch.
Hermione accepts the book from Malfoy's hand, unable to repress the smile that tugs at her lips. This book has been one of her favorites since the first time she read it.
Hermione opens the book and begins to read, still standing beside the bookshelf. She's distracted, but not so distracted that she misses Malfoy conjuring a small, wooden step-ladder. Malfoy himself is plenty tall enough to reach even the top shelves, so she knows that the step-ladder is just for her– and she's not sure how she feels about Malfoy adding furniture to his home with the sole purpose of making her more comfortable.
Hello friends! Happy Tuesday, and Happy New Year! (: I hope you've all had a wonderful start to 2024! (:
I have to say, this is one of my favorite chapters in this fic. (:
Let's start with the bathtub scene. I'm sorry. I just had to make Draco uncomfortable again- and I can just see how awkward that scene must've been, so naturally, I'm obsessed. :P Yes, you will get to see Draco's thoughts on this matter in the next chapter, I promise. HOWEVER. As funny as that scene is, I also enjoyed writing it for Hermione's introspection as well. Perhaps someone is softening a bit? PERHAPS.
And then I love the library scene, even though its really short. I think we're making progress here, my friends! (:
OH. ALSO. As I stated in the beginning of this fic, there is an element of Beauty and the Beast vibes in this fic. That said, throughout the writing of this fic, there were a few times where I was singing 'Tale as Old as Time' in my head and thinking of the line, "Barely even friends, and then somebody bends, unexpectedly." in relation to Draco and Hermione. I think they've both "bent unexpectedly" so far in this fic, but the library scene, too, was one of those moments where I thought of that line when Draco conjured the ladder. (I also thought of this song when Hermione told Draco about her parents in Chapter 8.)
ANYWAY. All of that said, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and thank you so much for spending some of your time here with me this week! (:
Please, if you feel so inclined, review- let me know what you thought of this chapter or what you noticed about it. I love seeing your thoughts. (: