Overture {Dramione}

Reprise

And you, always beside me,
To hold me and to hide me.

Hermione giggled as she watch Draco struggle with the new textures and flavors of his meal.

After returning to her flat the night before, she had practically inhaled the contents of her fridge: heating up leftovers as she scarfed down a haphazardly made sandwich.

The next morning, with a stomach that felt like a rock, she made it a point to pack herself a small meal to hold her over for the day.

The only thing left in her pantry was a few individual cups of prepackaged, freeze dried noodles. It wasn't much in terms of sustenance, but it would be enough. She quickly tossed it into her bag and, as a last thought, grabbed an extra one for Malfoy.

When evening rolled around, after several hours of work, Hermione had pulled out her own cup as Malfoy eyed it suspiciously.

"Do you have a kettle up her?"

He furrowed his brows and lazily gestured to a counter in the far corner. "You'd like some tea?"

"No, no. I need to boil water for this," she shook the cup gently, the loose contents of the package rolling around.

"What is it?" he grabbed it from her outstretched hand and lifted the closed lid to his nose, sniffing it suspiciously.

"Pot noodle," she picked it out of his hands and waved her wand to start the kettle. "Would you like to try? I brought an extra just in case."

He looked surprised for a moment, as if he hadn't expected her to consider him when packing her food. It seemed to influence his decision greatly as he nodded almost immediately. Hermione smirked.

"Chicken and mushroom or beef and tomato?"

She could tell he was impressed by the raise of his eyebrow and the poking out of his bottom lip after his first forkful. But just as quickly, he schooled his features into something much more suitable for a Malfoy eating processed food.

He twisted his face into a dramatic grimace and Hermione, who would have once found this display insulting, laughed.

"It's not going to kill you, Malfoy. I lived off this stuff when I was little."

He rolled the broth around in his mouth as if he was considering it. "Probably why you're so tiny then," he reached out his hand to shackle around her wrist, his hand encasing it tightly. Hermione's heart leapt into her throat at the contact, but then he pulled away. "There's absolutely no caloric value in this at all. If you're hungry, I could--"

The lift bell dinged loudly, announcing the arrival of someone, which caused Draco to crane his next around to see who.

Blaise waltzed in, his smock coat slung over one forearm. Hermione checked the dialog clock on Draco's wall. How was it around 6:30? It didn't feel like she'd been here for that long.

In fact, she found herself almost... disappointed to see Blaise now. Which didn't sit quite right; if he was He then she should feel... something, right? Some anticipation to finally meet with him.

When she turned to Draco, he was assessing the man carefully with narrowed eyes. Not all unfriendly, but more cold than she had seen him since their first run-in.

"Blaise? Is everything alright in the lab?"

He turned his attention from Hermione to Draco, straightening his spine. "Of course it is. I've come to collect Granger here, actually."

Hermione winced at his choice of wording. Ron had often referenced "collecting" her for dates, as if she was a child being picked up from primary.