A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

61. Presents

Draco woke three days after his birthday to over thirty get well cards, flowers and presents. He stayed for four days after that to assure the Healers that he was not about to drop dead.

He felt like elf shit the entire time he was conscious, hence why he spent most of his waking hours trying to bribe some poor sap into giving him more potions. The feeling wore off as the days passed, and soon enough he was allowed to leave.

On the way out his parents caught up to him, Blaise and Pansy, and insisted they come to the manor. Draco had only agreed because he knew his mother would pamper him with all his favourite foods, which was something he had never quite outgrown.

After Draco had wiped off the many lipstick stains left on his cheek by his mother, he pulled his father aside and told him as much of what had happened twelve days ago that he could remember. It was not something he wanted to relive and through some parts he struggled to go on with, but he kept going because he thought it was something his father should know, that he should know who was responsible and why his mind was tampered with.

It was when he got to the part of Hermione getting stabbed did he finally decide that that was enough, and suddenly the overwhelming urge to see her made the waiting on his favourite meals less worth it.

Though he did not eat much, it was still late by the time Blaise had taken him back home. He Apparated them so that they were in the hall, but because all the halls looked alike it was a few floors down too many.

He explained on the way up flights of stairs that he didn’t want to arrive inside the flat in the off chance the sound would frightened Granger. Scares weren’t ideal for the stiches above her hip, should she pull them. It made her sound uncharacteristically weak, and an unsettling feeling kindled inside him.

Blaise gave Granger a smile when she opened the door to them, more so cautious than usual. She looked terrible. Her eyes seemed duller, dark circles beneath them; her skin pale, freckles near invisible; her mouth was turned down at the sides; her hair was flat.

But when she noticed Blaise was not alone, she changed. She stood taller, and her expression lifted, like a balloon that was getting blown up. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment. And then she moved and hugged him. A gentle sort of hug, the type he imagined mothers without house elves gave their children when they tripped and scrapped their knees.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, and when they pulled apart again to go into the flat, Draco looked back and found Blaise was already gone.

“Have you had dinner?” she questioned as he closed the door behind him. “Showered? When are you supposed to take your potions, or did they give you healing creams?”

“Granger,” he began firmly, “I’m a big boy. I can look after myself.”

She stopped talking, and an awkward silence followed. Neither one knew what to say, if they should talk about everything that had happened or leave it. There was much to say; yet it was unclear how to say it.

“I did something for you,” she said suddenly, moving into the kitchen. Draco followed slowly, watching as she rummaged through the fridge.

“I told you, I can feed myself,” he told her, less annoyed than the first time because the way she was bent into the refrigerator gave him a spectacular view of her arse. But then she turned back again too quickly, and he hastily started explaining why his gaze was down there when, as his eyes lifted, he saw what it was she had been bending over to retrieve in the first place. 

A circular cake with sliced pieces of apple planted neatly all around the top, cinnamon sprinkled all over with several candles. It wasn’t the neatest cake he had ever seen, some slices of apple were thicker than others; it looked a little too brown on one side and he was sure it would crumble everywhere once it was cut. But strangely enough, it was these imperfect details that made the cake perfect.