Blinding State of Affairs

Chapter Twenty-Two

The week was full of ups and downs. Hermione was complimented several times on her hard work by several different people. She had tons of paperwork that she diligently started filing the proper places and still managed her usual duties for Draco. She worked hard and long hours. If it weren't for calls from Draco on the phone for reminders to take lunches and breaks, she wouldn't have.

His excuse was mild at best. He didn't want to walk with his cane, so she had to escort him to lunch or outside for some air. It allowed them to spend time together that they weren't experiencing now that they were at the office. Hermione was growing thankful for these moments as the days improved toward the end of the week. She didn't realize how much she missed their banter and their conversations between work.

Hermione had set up his office to be entirely accessible to him and his lack of sight. The printer was braille. The phone had her number on speed dial followed by Regulus and Zabini. Even his computer was simplified as she set up the software and hardware for him to at least access his emails. Draco didn't understand just how beautiful it would be to be so independent in his office until he was.

Soon their working relationship was a steady flow of emails, phone conversations, and her appearance when things needed his approval. It was almost normal, and Draco was relieved to feel less handicapped and more self-sufficient by the week's end.

Draco had just finished up his final reports for the day, his computer repeating what he was writing in a monotone fashion. He did happen to miss her voice, but it was livable. Sending it off, he flexed his shoulders and sighed. He was looking forward to his session with Flint after work; he was stiff.

"Malfoy, are you finished up?" Hermione's voice entered the room.

"Yes, just did. Ready to go to my place? I hope you are packed," he declared, and she exhaled.

"Draco, don't you think it is silly. We are both going to the party tomorrow. Shouldn't I stay home tonight?" she said, and he could hear the discomfort in her voice.

"No, don't be silly. We can go together instead of running to come get me," he replied and stood up.

She was shuffling her feet, a new sign of hers; she was feeling anxious. "Alright."

"Just this weekend, Hermione. If you don't enjoy yourself I will not ask you again," he reminded her, and she huffed a deep breath.

He felt her arm coil around his as she assisted him. "Okay, Draco," she breathed, and his lips curled.

"You know, for a Gryphem you are quite afraid of actually enjoying yourself," he teased, causing her to snort.

"I enjoy myself plenty when I want to," she reminded him.

He chuckled as he heard the elevator doors open. "I remember very well. I remember that entire night with vivid detail."

She was silent again as the elevator shifted under them. It was always a curiosity of his to know what she thought when her mouth stayed quiet. Was she thinking about what had happened? Was she dreading this weekend because she came to her senses? He wasn't genuinely sure because he could not see her reactions.

"The next day was nice," she sighed, and he internally wiped sweat from his brow.

"Yes, but you were still running through a roller coaster of emotions. I wasn't about to take advantage of that," Draco admitted, and her hand tightened on his arm.

"That isn't very Anguis of you," she snickered as the elevator dinged and the doors sounded.

"If you weren't important to my wellbeing I would have," his voice was low.