Apartment 23 & 24 (Dramione)

Chapter 23: Coffee in London

Song: Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift

"If you haven't noticed already, I'm pretty hard to get rid of." Said Draco, looking up at Hermione.

Hermione scoffed at Draco's comment, "I've noticed."

"I think it's the hair, it really stands out in a crowd," Smiled Draco, he ran his fingers through his now messed up hair.

"You know Draco I actually..." Hermione stopped herself before she could say something she might regret.

"You actually, what?" Questioned Draco, he sat back further in his chair. He was interested in what she had to say.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

Draco smirked at her, "Come on, Hermione. Now I'm curious."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione was enjoying this, she could tell it was bothering him.

"Ah, come on... pleaaase tell me." Pleaded Draco.

Hermione looked over at him and laughed to herself. What's the worst that can happen if I tell him? Thought Hermione, He'll kill me?... I really shouldn't tell him. "I was going to say that I actually am starting to get kinda hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast."

Draco was disappointed by Hermione's answer, but he figured it couldn't be that easy. He turned around in his rolling chair and got a two granola bars out of the top drawer of his desk. Hermione caught one when he tossed it to her, "Bon appetite."

"Thank you." In a matter of seconds Hermione had torn into the granola bar.

"No problem," muttered Draco, as he slowly opened his dinner.

Hermione jumped up on the table across from Draco and sat down. Her legs dangled off the sides like a pendulum on a clock, Draco couldn't help but watch, hypnotized.

"So," started Hermione, "what are we going to do about the antidote? It's not like we can easily get blood from a corpse."

"I already have it covered." Mentioned Draco casually.

"What? How?" Asked Hermione. She was generally curious to where he got the cure.

"Well, you see I don't exactly have it yet. There's a morgue here at St. Mungo's, we can get it there." Said Draco.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, skeptical of the proposal, "We're going to steal a dead persons blood?"

"Not exactly, we're just taking without permission." Compromised Draco.

"I don't think that's a good idea. It just doesn't feel right."

"What are we going to do then? We can't wake the dead and ask them, 'Mione." Draco stood up from his chair and started to pace the room, nervously, "Professor McGonagall wants an antidote as soon as possible."

"Okay I get it, Draco, no need to get hostile." Said Hermione, she couldn't believe she was agreeing to this, "Let's go steal blood from a morgue. Never thought I'd ever say that in my life."

* * * * *

"This is all unbelievably morbid." Said Hermione with a shutter. "Why is it so cold in here anyways?"

"Keeps the bodies fresh." Replied Draco smoothly, studying the individual drawers.

"Who are these people?" Asked Hermione, crossing her arms because of the cold.

"Down here, the people don't get names, they get numbers." Draco grabbed the metal handle to the drawer closet to him. "Meet seventeen."

Hermione gasped as a man wrapped from the waist down in a thin white sheet was pulled out of the wall. He was so pale he was blue.