She sped past him and up the hatch of stairs, a determined look on her face.
"I don't like to be ordered around Granger." He called after her, trying to get her attention.
Hermione didn't turn around, instead she started pulling books from the shelves.
"What is this?"
"Research." She snapped, "here." She shoved a few books in his direction.
"Ouch Granger."
Hermione turned around, frustrated, "Look, I am tired of this" she gestured between them, "so we need to work out what our options are, ok?" She snapped, turning her attention to the books before her.
She crouched down, crossing her legs and started to read.
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"Anything." She sighed, her frustration growing, "accounts of bindings, side effects, the mind-reading, hows, whys, whats."
"Hows, whys, whats." Malfoy mimicked.
"This is not a joke Malfoy." Hermione retorted, feeling teary again.
"Right, right, because I'm just having the best time." He clapped his hands, imitating an over-excited girl before the Yule Ball.
She set her chin, challenging him with a gaze. Draco felt that familiar swell of something unknown when she looked at him and maybe a pang of guilt.
"I could just use your help." Hermione mumbled, reaching for another book, and tossing aside another to the 'useless' pile.
"Well, it's about time you recognised my superior intellect."
She sniffed, flashing a tentative smile. Malfoy felt better this way – them quipping at the other, the more serious stuff felt like dangerous territory. He felt rusty, even more so around her, who was becoming more confusing to him the more time they spent together.
They sat for what felt like hours, both immersed in their work. Hermione thought about how she'd never really seen him study. She noted his careful handling of the books, the way his hands turned pages with a feline grace and how his expression remained neutral. Every so often he would run his hand through his hair, smoothing the strands away from his forehead.
He sensed her gaze, looking up for a moment and raising his eyebrows. "Anything?" he asked.
Hermione's stomach lurched, but she tried to sound normal, "nothing yet, just the usual information on other magical rituals, like weddings, deaths, and so on."
He grunted in response. She felt relief when he was no longer looking at her and wondered if he knew how intense he appeared – nothing about him felt casual, it was all or nothing. She could tell when he was retreating behind his mask, but sometimes, he would look at her, really look, as if he was trying to penetrate her mind. He was just so different to what she expected.
Hermione had hoped she'd be able to find something to contradict what she'd read earlier, but she knew she had to tell him. She winced, "there is one thing…"
Draco paused, looking at her expectantly.
"I read something last night and I wanted to corroborate it before I shared it with you." She babbled, pacing nervously. "Just- promise you won't get mad."
"I think we both know that's unrealistic."
She bit her lip, wavering. "Ok, wait here."
She scurried down the hatch, chancing one last glance before she dipped out of view.
Draco felt uneasy, being reminded once more that it was just him and Granger, alone in this chalet.
She returned flustered, avoiding looking at him directly. Hermione shoved it at him, the page open. She walked away to the edge of the room.
He read it quickly, turned the page over, then read it again.
"Is this it?" He felt panic rising.
"Looks like it." She tied her hair up. "But we should keep looking, that's an old volume, so there must be something more recent or, I don't know, other primary accounts of the rituals themselves."
Malfoy pinched the top of his nose.
"Plus, we don't even know if any of that's true. I haven't even heard of the author, and it looks like one of those books Hogwarts maybe used like fifty years ago. It's probably hyperbole. And the illustration is just a bit much, I mean it didn't even look like that."
"Granger."
"I just think if we've chose to bind, then we can choose to un-bind. It's all very logical."
"Granger, stop."
Hermione bit her lip.
"Are you not getting this? You could be bound to me forever." Draco growled. He saw Hermione about to retort and cut her off. "Me, Granger, a Death Eater." She flinched and he continued, "Christmases, birthdays."
"I think I can handle that."
"What happens if you want to be alone with someone? How are you going to explain me lurking in the shadows? Oh, don't mind him, he's just a parasite I shared my magic with."
"Ok Malfoy, I get it."
"No, you don't. We've done something incredibly stupid here." He hissed.
"You were going to die."
Malfoy stilled.
"So, I'm sorry if that makes me stupid", she moved towards him, "but I couldn't just watch that happen."
The emotion was palpable in her eyes that flashed almost orange in the morning light.
"You should've", he closed his eyes.
"But I didn't", she smiled sadly, "and I don't think you wanted me to die either."
He turned away from her, walking over to the window. It was snowing again, which meant no going outside and after overhearing Granger's conversation with Potter, he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't be turned to ash by stepping outside this place.
"Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a monster." He smirked, again trying to lighten the mood.
"No, you're not." She sighed, "alright, I think we should come up with a schedule."
Draco rolled his eyes but refrained from insulting her.
"Research in the morning, spells in the afternoon."
"Seems simple enough."
"Perfect. Shall we get some breakfast?"
Malfoy was taken aback by the invitation, "um sure."
"We have to eat." Hermione laughed, "come on, I'll make us something. Do you like pancakes?"
He nodded, still disturbed by the level of intimacy between them.
"I'm not going to poison you." She popped her hands on her hips, "after all, that wouldn't work out so well for me."
Malfoy snorted and followed her down. The house was quiet, insulated by the soft snow. The fireplace downstairs still roared on its own, charmed to keep them warm. He liked how light it was after being in the manor for so long.
Hermione found the kitchen, opening a couple of the cupboards to find the right ingredients.
"Aha!" She cried, pulling out a packet of flour, coughing as a cloud puffed in her face.
"Aren't you going to use magic?"
She was engrossed in counting out eggs. "Mm?"
"Magic, Granger. Did you forget you're a witch?" He chuckled, finding a seat at the island.
Hermione stopped what she was doing for a moment, before carrying on. "I like doing it the muggle way", she said quietly.
Draco realised the significance of what he'd said. "I didn't mean-"
"It's ok Malfoy, I know what you think of people like me."
He watched her whisk ingredients and test for the right consistency. She seemed to know what she was doing. She poured four puddles of mixture onto a pan, and they started to sizzle.
She flipped them over.
"I don't" he started, making her jump, "I don't think like that."
Hermione frowned, "like what exactly?"
"You deserve your magic just as much as I do. Probably more after some of the things I've done." He picked at a groove in the wood.
She grabbed some plates and served up the pancakes, summoning some syrup, plus lemon and sugar for her. Draco took the syrup as she suspected.
"I'm not sure anyone deserves magic Malfoy, it's just there, like DNA."
"DNA?"
"Oh, a muggle thing. I just mean that it's a part of you, in the same way that you're born with a certain eye colour. If you're not born magical, it doesn't make you less of a person."
Draco cut a piece of his pancake, mulling over what she was saying. "Why do you suppose some people are not born with magic, if not by blood?"
"That I don't know, but then, I didn't know about magic until I was eleven and I don't believe we understand everything in this world."
"True, although you must admit that magic gives us a certain advantage over others, and I wonder why that is the case."
"Yes, but I don't think that means we are superior, and just because we have an advantage, that we should wield it over others."
"Right, although, given we do have this advantage, we will surely outlive and outperform those that don't."
"Yes." Hermione grew more impassioned, "but then we have a duty to look after non-magical beings, not wipe them out of existence." She placed her cutlery down, challenging him to disagree.
Draco thought about it for a moment, and he wasn't sure he disagreed. Still, he would be lying if he didn't understand what it felt like to exert power and the satisfaction that brought. But… he saw the cowardice in it. After all, it wasn't a fair fight.
"I agree with you Granger. I mean, I can't say I feel all that much compassion towards mud-muggles, but I don't think they deserve to be killed for who they are."
She looked at him, assessing for truth and nodded, "thank you."
Malfoy shrugged, finishing his pancakes. Truthfully, he was intrigued. He'd never really had these kinds of conversations with his friends before. Is that what they were, friends?
"I need a minute," she interjected, "I'll be in my room if anything happens."
Hermione moved to go upstairs, incredibly drained by the day so far.
"Granger, wait. I don't know how long we can go without that infernal pain again."
"Right, I forgot." She stopped in her tracks. "Um, I won't be long, give me an hour? If it starts, I'll come down."
"Sure." He cracked his knuckles.
Hermione practically ran up the stairs into her room. When the door closed, she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at her clock on her mantel piece, it was only 10am.
She passed the remanence of Malfoy's bed and went to sit by the fireplace. The magic fizzed beneath her veins. She pictured the DNA helix shape, except one colour represented Malfoy and the other was her, intwined, possibly forever. Hermione took another deep breath. The other thing that confused her was that the more time she spent with him, the less disagreeable he became. She thought back to the morning and groaned. What was she thinking? He wasn't actually flirting; it was all the binding magic. But there was a moment, no, two moments, where it felt real.
She stood up, attempting to get a clear mind. "Just don't be an idiot Hermione." She whispered to herself.
And their conversation just now… he was compelling, and he corrected himself. Plus, he even agreed with her. Small breadcrumbs of decency, Hermione, not declarations. Was she even thinking as herself anymore, or was the binding confusing her thoughts?
She knew the answer to that one, whether she liked to admit it or not.