the art of french toast

2.

BEAUTIFUL art done by @elyonblackstar.art on instagram!! Thank you for capturing him beautifully. Read until the end to see :)

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January 20th, 2001

Neither of them spoke of the peace offering, but after that morning Hermione had stopped being so defensive, and Draco had mostly kept to himself.

What she hadn't expected was breakfast being ready for her every morning. How he knew she loved French toast, she didn't know, but it was on the table every morning, waiting for Hermione's growling stomach. It was delicious too, something she definitely wasn't expecting. Draco was surprising her, and she didn't know how she felt about it yet.

The only time the two saw each other was at meals, otherwise Draco remained in his room.

She tried not to laugh when he came out wearing Ron's old clothes that were way too small for him, but with each time it was becoming harder. She conceded to going out and buying him some clothes using the account Kingsley gave her for Malfoy expenses.

When she left the bags in front of his door before bed and went to sleep, he was wearing them the next morning; again, neither spoke a word of it, but there was French toast waiting for her on the table with a thank you note.

It was only a week after he moved in that he plopped down beside her on her couch. She had previously been watching the telly, some romantic comedy that was cheesy but entertaining nonetheless. She had just put popcorn in her mouth when he leaned back and got comfortable. She had put a telly in his room, so why was he sitting with her?

"Uh, Malfoy?" she questioned. He was wearing a white t-shirt she had picked out for him. She had needed to guess on the sizes, but it seemed to hug his torso nicely. She couldn't stop herself from letting her eyes drag over his appearance. He looked significantly less pompous, no hair gel or expensive suits. He had scruff on his chin, his long fingers often lifting to scratch it. He was so tall, taller than even Ron, so the pants she bought him stopped a little above his ankles. He looked good; he always looked so damn good, why was he like this?

"Like what you see, Granger?" Draco was smirking over at her. Hermione's face burst into flames. Merlin how long had she been staring? She feigned innocence and rolled her eyes.

"Please, you wish. Did you need something?" His smirk didn't drop, but he finally looked away from her.

"Can't I enjoy a quiet night with you, staring at a little box with pictures on it?"

"One, it's a television. Two, seeing as you've never graced me with your presence before I was confused. You can stay if you'd like, I'm just watching a movie." Draco shrugged and turned his attention to the telly.

"Why is he singing to her in front of everyone?" Draco asks with his nose wrinkled.

"It's romantic." Draco scoffed.

"It is not!"

"Yes, it is, Malfoy."

"How could a man's horrid singing result in anything but someone's ears bleeding?"

"It's a gesture, Malfoy. He screwed up their relationship, so he's doing everything he can to win her back. Even embarrassing himself in front of all of their friends." Draco stares at her.

"Is that what you would want, Granger?"

"I don't know...maybe? It would have been nice." Hermione thought back to her failed relationship; how he hadn't brought her flowers, let alone plan a big romantic gesture.

"Would have? Are you talking about Weasel?"

"Seeing as that's the only relationship I've had, yes Malfoy I'm talking about Ronald." Draco raised his hands in a defensive manner, his eyebrows shooting up.