Begin Again - Dramione

Late Nights

"Oh, good. I was going to ask you about it anyways."

"What's going on? Mother didn't say anything," I asked, curiously. I'd asked Mother but she had deftly changed the subject. I was more surprised by the way she had talked about Hermione so casually, as if they were friends.

She stopped writing altogether and sat up, looking at me from under her lashes. "Ummm.. Actually.." She stalled, fingering the stack of papers before her. I raised a brow at her.

"What?"

"I.."

"Speak up, will you?" I said, impatiently.

"Well..I-I just wanted to look at the Pureblood Family Register. You know.. I figured, if I want to know more about everyone involved in the war, I need to know about their families.. And I asked your mom, and she promised she'd help me." She bit her lip, her eyes downcast.

"Mother agreed to send you the Register?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, apparently," she told me, sounding just as surprised. I shook my head.

"Some witch you are Granger, how did you even get her to agree to it? Let alone send it all the way over here. It's a very confidential document," I said.

She tried not to smirk, but her eyes were dancing with pride as she replied, "I'm not called the brightest witch of my age for no reason Mr. Malfoy, as you've heard before."

"Oh, of course. How can I ever forget?" I smirked back. But it probably was the wrong thing to say, as in an instant, I watched Hermione practically deflate before my eyes. She lowered her gaze back to the parchment and heaved a tired sigh.

She began scribbling on the parchment, occasionally glancing at the various books cluttering the table, ignoring me again. I heaved a tired sigh.

It was quiet for a long time as we both worked our way through the many stacks of parchment. Writing a book was so damn difficult, I couldn't fathom how people did it. Who the fuck even had the time?

Us apparently, or so thought the Minister of Magic.

"Hermione.." I finally called out after contemplating in my head for what felt like ages but were merely a few minutes. She stopped staring at the book yet again, though she hadn't really been paying attention to it all that much. I'd noticed her zone out again.

"Yes?" She asked, exhausted. Instead of saying anything, I extended my hand to her.

She looked from my hand to my eyes, "What?"

"Come here,"

She took her time, staring at me for a good minute, thinking perhaps, before closing the book and standing up. She came around the table and settled down next to me on the carpeted floor silently, taking my hand in hers and intertwining our fingers. Her warm touch sent a pleasant jolt through me.

"What's going on in your head?" I inquired, looking at her sideways.

"Nothing," She replied with a shrug.

"Besides that?" I gave her a pointed look.

"It's nothing.." She sighed yet again, fidgeting. I turned to look into her face properly, raising  our intertwined hands before us.

"I know what She-Weasel said that night is still bothering you," I stated, gently tilting our hands so that hers was on top. She parted her lips to protest but I cut in, "Don't even try to deny it, I've been observing you for the last week."