Blood Boundary [A DRAMIONE fanfiction]

17 | Hermione's Birthday Part 2

Boys and girls, I'd go grab a box of tissue before reading this if I were you. Word of warning as well: you're going to see a curse word in there somewhere. Just trying to inform ya'll.

17 | Hermione's Birthday Part 2

"Because I want to share it with you."

The words ricocheted off the walls and into his heart.

Draco's gaze snapped back up at her puffy eyes, wondering if she had really said that, or whether it was just a product of his imagination. Her misty brown eyes locked with his for only a second too long, but she averted her gaze before he could take a mental picture of it.

He received the plate from her, and he watched as she took her fork to take a bite until—

"You forgot your wish," he interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"Your wish. You didn't blow the candle yet."

"Oh," she chuckled. She got her wand from her pocket and aimed it at the wick of the candle. "Incendio."

She looked at him expectantly, and he gave her a nod. She closed her eyes, her lips pursed the whole time. She stayed like that for a minute, the flames from the fireplace lighting up her face. Draco badly wanted to be closer to her, but he can't afford to. She can never know.

When she opened her eyes, she blew the candle and took it out of the muffin.

"That was an awfully long wish," he muttered. "What was it?"

"Won't come true if I tell you."

He watched her take her first bite from the corner of his eye. For a moment, she seemed like a craving child, and it seemed even more childish for her to believe in superstitions like that. Normally, he'd roll his eyes at people like that, but that wasn't the case for her. Somewhere in there, he could see the child coming out of her, and it was the best comfort for him; to know that even after everything, her innocence didn't shrivel up; that in this very chaotic world, she was pure, and she was unblemished, and she was forgiving.

"Good Godric," she exclaimed under her breath.

"What?"

Her gaze leveled once again with his. "Did you really make this?" She asked. "Or did you just ask Zabini to buy a muffin for me?"

"What, you think I'd lie about that?" He asked her a little too harshly.

She shifted her eyes down her plate, pursing her lips.

Merlin, you just had to lose it again, huh, Draco?

"I really did bake it," he said, clearing his throat. "I—"

He stopped himself. He wasn't going to tell her how many batches of muffins he'd baked just to get the perfect one. That would be very un-Malfoy of him.

The two of them ate in silence, not knowing what to talk about. He was never the one to strike up the conversation whenever they spend time with each other. It was always her who started it, and it wasn't like it was an actual conversation. Occasionally, she'd tell him a witty remark or scold him, almost like a mother would, and he'd reply with a one-liner or an eye roll.

Even so, Draco though that this silence was the best kind yet. It wasn't awkward or agonizing, nor was it deafening or eerie. It was comforting, and their silence did more to warm him up than the fire.