Silver Dawn

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy didn't say a word. Not when he showed her the room she could stay in, not when he saw her struggle to get the heavy duffel on the four-poster bed and not when he left her a couple of minutes and half a nod later. Hermione sighed in exhaustion and went to close the door of her bedroom before crashing down on the large twin bed that dominated the room. The room was nicer than she'd anticipated. This entire house positively surprised her. Maybe she'd expected everything to be as dark as the hearts of the owners. But she could see now that it had been naive to assume such a thing. The wallpaper was grey embroidered with silver flower patterns and the furniture was made from expensive wood in a darker shade of grey. White and silver decorations gave the room a classy and stylish vibe. There was not a single dark green decorative item to be seen. When she let her eyes drift through the room she couldn't even spot a snake. She appreciated it, even though it might not have been a conscious decision on Malfoy's part. He always liked to show off Slytherin's house colours when she and her friends were around so the furnishing of this room was probably not his doing.

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a resigned sigh. Draco Malfoy. All things considered their first meeting hadn't been so bad. He'd made fun of her, which had not been a surprise at all, and she'd been able to put him in his place. It would be ridiculous to assume the provoking and pestering would be over now, but she'd shown that she was not about to give in to him just because she stayed at his place. The worst thing about this entire experience was that she wouldn't have anyone to talk to while she was here. She already missed her best friends and the longing for them would only increase every time she felt like talking. It had been established years ago that she and Malfoy were never going to get along and she wasn't about to make conversation with his abhorrent parents either. They were disgusting people. Hermione snorted. She remembered the day she'd first met Mr. Malfoy at Flourish and Blotts like it was yesterday. It really wasn't a surprise that the son had turned out the way he did.

Hermione stayed in her room for as long as possible. She took her time unpacking her bags and when there was nothing left to put in the closet, she went to the bay window and made herself comfortable between the pillows. Her gaze fell on the heavy rain outside. The weather mimicked her mood perfectly.

She had been sitting there for what felt like an hour when she was suddenly startled by a knock on the door. She shot upright and went to stand by her bed.

"Yes?", she replied.

The door opened and the housekeeper she had met earlier appeared in the doorway.

"Mr. Malfoy expects you in the dining room in half an hour for dinner."

She nodded.

"Alright."

The housekeeper wrinkled her nose as if Hermione had just said something offensive. She was halfway to closing the door when she leant her head back in.

"I suggest you make yourself somewhat more presentable for a dinner in the young master's company. There's really no need to live up to the prejudices we already have about your kind."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but otherwise kept her mouth shut. When the door closed she swore under her breath. Somehow the woman had offended her more than Malfoy had done only an hour before. Maybe because she had expected adults to have more sense and manners, maybe because she had hoped at least someone would be on her side.

When she went inside the bathroom that came with her bedroom, she realised she did look like some kind of vagabond. Her wet hair had dried and was now a huge cobweb of frizzy, tangled brown rags and her boots and jeans were still covered in a brown sludge that had once been snow. For a moment she considered not showering and not changing her appearance, but she decided she shouldn't be actively looking for fights. So she took a shower, towel dried her hair and picked out some fresh clothes. Nothing fancy, just a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and a bordeaux wine colored cardigan. She braided her damp hair for the single purpose of not having it stick in her face the entire time and chose slippers over shoes. No one had said she couldn't make herself at home, right?