November 14, 1995
Draco slammed the book down on the dark mahogany table in front of me, his hand tense and stark veins popping out. "This book is stupid," he hissed, sinking down beside me on the emerald velvet couch.
I had been coming here almost everyday after dinner these past two weeks, a decision strongly encouraged by Pansy and Theo, along with quiet support of Blaise.
And I listened.
I needed this. With them, everything just... disappeared. If only for a while. The responsibilities. The relentless and impossible expectations. The pressure. With them, I was just me. Hermione.
Harry and Ron had stopped asking where I was going after the first two nights, which I had answered with "That's irrelevant".
I think they know. Ron barely speaks to me, and when Harry does it's with a carefulness that wasn't there before.
This is good for me, space from Harry and Ron. I love them, nothing will change that. I just need time away for a while. To figure out what I want. What's not working.
I looked up from my parchment and glanced sideways at Draco. His face was scrunched up in frustration, searching for an answer to a question he had not yet voiced. My knees were bent and brought up to my chest. My parchment with my Arithmancy homework was rolled out on my knees, and the tip of my quill was between my teeth. "Why is that?"
He groaned and grabbed the muddy green book from the table, waving it in my face. "This guy Tom Robinson. He is so obviously innocent. The beatings on the girl are on the right, so you would need to hit her with your left, obviously. And he—he doesn't even have a left hand! W—why are they even entertaining the alternative? T—taking it to court?" He was stumbling over his words in exasperation, lips tripping across each other.
I successfully suppressed my smile and merely replied, "You'll see. Keep reading."
"They're acting completely ridiculous." Draco continued anyways, shaking his head. His hair fell across his eyes, and he blew air up out of his mouth to try to fix it, but to no avail. Much to his dismay, because his expression grew even more frustrated.
A small giggle escaped my throat. "Just keep reading, Malfoy."
"What are we talking about?" Pansy's voice echoed, and I traced the voice to find Pansy collapsing onto the chaise across from us, laying back and kicking her legs out and setting them on the cushions.
Draco shook his head and sat back against the pillows. He grumbled, "Some book Granger is making me read. It's bollocks."
"It's not bollocks," I protested, sending a disapproving look at Draco. "It's a rich text full of truth."
"Clearly not 'full of truth'. Like I said, he's obviously innocent—"
"Snoozeville," Theo whined, coming up and shoving Pansy's legs off the couch to sit next to her. She huffed in annoyance. He ignored her and shut his eyes in faked exhaustion, pleading, "Why don't we talk about something we all understand, nerds?"
"Like what?" Draco asked, eyes on Theo but fingers near mine. An inch closer and they would touch again.
I wonder if he still burns.
Theo's eyes rolled up in thought. "Like..." His eyes straightened, and I could almost see a physical lightbulb spring on in his eyes. "Cookies."
My eyebrows crept up my forehead. "Cookies?"
Theo instantly beamed. "I make killer snickerdoodle cookies. We should sneak into the kitchen so I can make them."
"How the hell do you know how to make snickerdoodles?" Blaise piped in, sinking into his usual armchair, a black goblet in his right hand.
For a moment, a shadow passed over Theo's face, but he blinked and it was nowhere to be seen. But his eyes were slightly duller and his voice was distant when he said, "My mum used to make them when I was a kid. She made them the Muggle way. Said it was more rewarding to take that first bite after spending so much time making them."
"Okay, but we can't go right now," Pansy informed, staring up at the wrought iron clock above the mantle.
Blaise traced Pansy's line of sight and asked, "Why not?"
Her head turned to him, and her expression was a familiar one. It was the are you serious? face that I have used with Ron and Harry countless times. "The house elves don't finish up until 8," she explained, looking for a moment of realization in Blaise's face.
The right corner of Blaise's lip twitched in what I had learned to be amusement. "How do you know that? Keeping tabs on the elves?"
"How else do you think I get so many snacks for us?" Pansy snapped, gesturing to the coffee table wildly. Indeed, everytime I came here the table had been piled with a multitude of fruits and chocolates.
Theo's hand, which held a ball of chocolate on a path to his lips, stopped in front of his lips. His eyes bulged at Pansy and he exclaimed, "You get these?"
"Yes! I even got strawberries for Draco! I told you guys this!" Pansy scolded, her mouth open and rolling her eyes in disbelief.
Strawberries for Draco. For when he skipped dinner.
Theo popped the chocolate into his mouth and chewed for a moment, then replied with brown teeth, "Forgive me if I don't listen to every word you say."
"Shut up, you two. We will just go at 8:30." Blaise said smoothly, and Pansy and Theo immediately closed their mouths. I grinned. They were like two children always bickering, and Blaise was their impromptu parental figure that had to keep them in order. Blaise turned to me, face as composed as ever, and asked, "You in, Granger?"
I don't know why, but Ron's voice began to echo through my mind, and my grin faded off my face promptly. How many times has he called you Mudblood? How many times has he tormented us, him and his possey of arses? I shifted in my seat, placing my homework to the side. "Oh, um..."
A small spark. I didn't have to look down to know it was Draco's hand. Just a finger again, resting beside mine, only touching infinitesimally. So warm, exactly how I remembered. Burning.
"What's wrong?" he implored softly, with surprising gentleness.
I took my eyes away from Blaise and found Draco's grey irises, clear and delicate. "What do you mean?"
"You look like your puppy died," Pansy's voice cut in, and I turned to her.
"Oh no. Do you have a puppy at home? Did it actually die?" I could hear the clear despair in Theo's words, and his shoulders sagged. He looked absolutely heartbroken.
"Idiot," Pansy muttered.
"No. No, I'm fine, guys," I assured them, pasting on a small fake smile I have mastered over time.
"You're clearly not," Draco countered lowly, and that deep voice sent a spark running up our tiny point of contact and up my spine. So, so warm. Flaming.
"You can tell us what's going on," Theo added, albeit hesitantly after pausing for a moment. "Who am I gonna tell? The only blokes I talk to are these three, and I don't even like them," he added as an afterthought, and that earned an actual smile from me.
Pansy snorted, "Shut the hell up for once, Theo—"
"No you shut up," Theo shot back, and he turned back to me, his expression apologetic. "Granger, you have the floor."
Dozens of past scenarios flashed across my vision.
Doing my homework, then staying up all night to do Harry's and Ron's as well.
Not getting anything more than a thank you after writing entire essays for them.
My gut wrenching with disappointment when they never offered to help me with anything.
You'll figure it out, you always do!, they always said. My role in the dynamic of things. The problem-solver.
I parroted Ron and Harry when I responded, "Thanks. But I'll figure it out. I always do."
"No, you damn well will not."
I whirled to Draco, and he was rubbing his neck, looking down and shaking his head slowly.
"What?"
He raised his eyes to mine, and they were dark. Unyielding. Cold hard steel. His mouth was set in a firm line. "Come on, Granger. Don't do that."
"Do what?"
Fire. The one point of contact between our fingers. My body was on fire.
Draco shook his head, biting his lower lip and looking up to the ceiling briefly, like he was in pain. His voice was shaking ever so slightly when he said, "Don't... keep everything to yourself. You always look like that, like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."
It does feel like that a lot of times. And he noticed.
"You know you can talk to us, right?" Blaise said, and when I looked at him his face was softer than I've ever seen.
"Well, can we blame her for being hesitant?" Pansy's expression was pained, and she continued, "We used to bully her. A lot."
And there it was. The elephant in the room. The only sound was the faint crackle of the fire.
What do I say to that? I don't think Yeah, that really sucked is an appropriate answer. So I decided to do what I usually do with Ron and Harry: lie. "No, it's not that."
It was Theo who spoke first. When he met my eyes, his face was miserable. His voice came out cracked. "I think I speak for all of us here when I say that I'm sorry. For all of that. For how mean I was. How mean we were." He cringed inwardly. "I was a stupid, idiot kid."
Pansy muttered, "You're still a stupid idiot kid."
"Pans, I swear to God—"
"I'm just saying—"
"Can we be serious for one second—"
"What he's trying to say," Blaise projected over them, shooting them death glares that silenced them, "is that we're sorry. All of us. Right, guys?" Blaise raised his brows at his friends.
Pansy shrugged. "You're pretty cool. For a Muggleborn, I mean." She winked at me.
Theo put his face in his hands. "Pans, God damn—"
"Jesus Christ, it was a joke—"
"But no more jokes. Right?" Blaise urged, widening his eyes at them.
Pansy looked at me and nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, no more."
"Because we like you," Theo stated matter-of-factly.
"We do. Truly." Blaise rumbled. He smiled at me, and I returned it genuinely.
Out of the corner of my eye I focused on Draco, but he said nothing. His head was bent, his blonde hair covering his face, his gaze fixed on the floor. Out of everyone, he owed me the biggest apology, and yet he sat there in silence.
"Ooh! It's 8:30! Time for cookies," Theo announced cheerfully, shooting up out of his seat. Blaise was already stalking towards the far wall. Pansy stood and beckoned for me to follow them as she and Theo trailed after Blaise. Draco was still, not moving a muscle.
But he still seared my skin with his. Hot. So hot.
I stood, not looking at him, wrenching my hand away and walking away.
__
We took a passage hidden behind a bookcase, and it led to the corner of the large kitchen underground. I hadn't looked back to see if Draco had followed.
The kitchen was all steel and wood. Dozens of steel pots and pans hung overhead and on the walls, and all the countertops were aged and faded wood. There were five large ovens on the far wall stacked on top of one another, stretching ten feet up into the air.
Theo's eyes were shining, and he rubbed his palms together. "Time to work my magic. Would you all so kindly wait right outside the kitchen? There should be a table."
Shuffling feet as they exited out the left door. I purposefully didn't look, because I couldn't bear to see him right now.
Theo immediately began to work, pulling out a large steel baking tray from the far right cabinet and aluminum foil from the third drawer. How he knew where everything was, I have no idea.
I needed to ask him. He said the most, back there. So he will know.
"Theo?"
He looked up at me and jumped a little, startled at my presence. His face broke into a smile. "What's up, princess?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," he answered, looking down as he started to spread the tin foil across the tray.
"I..." I paused. "What changed? Between me and you guys?"
Both his face and his hands froze, hovering over the tray. His molton brown eyes flickered when he finally looked at me. "Please try to understand. Growing up like we did, being taught what we were taught, being fed lie after lie after lie..." He glanced down and cursed under his breath, placing his hands on the counter. His shoulders were visibly tensed. "It's hard. To get past all of it. But..." Theo brought his eyes to mine, and they were full of a quiet despair. "We're trying. We all are."
I nodded once, because I know. Things you were taught all your life are not things you can get rid of easily. Being raised thinking magic isn't real, then being thrown into a whole nother world... That was tough. It took a lot of effort to adjust to. "Thank you, Theo," I said quietly. "I don't know what else to say."
He blinked rapidly, clearing his mind. Then he puckered his lips and answered, "How about, 'What can I do to help? I want to taste your cookies'?"
I laughed, grateful for the shift to a lighter mood. "Alright. What can I do to help? I want to taste your cookies!"
"Grab the cinnamon and mix it with sugar in a bowl, they're on the bottom shelf," Theo ordered, suddenly very serious. "Two cups of sugar and half a cup of cinnamon." He waved his hand to show me the far right corner, where there was a tall and skinny door with a sloppy label: Pantry.
I gave him a thumbs up and went in. The room was a decent size, a tad smaller than the Gryffindor common room. In the center of the room was a small round wooden table with various colorful stains on it. The shelves lined all three walls and were packed to the brim with containers and jars. I bent down and skimmed my fingers over the ingredients, until I finally found a jar of cinnamon next to a jar of sugar. Right next to them was a medium sized white bowl, and inside were two measuring cups, for one cup and half a cup. I laughed a little to myself, knowing Theo put all of these right here.
I gathered the materials into my arms and stood up straight, turning to leave. And Draco stood in the doorway, looking slightly taken aback. His hand was braced on the doorframe, his eyes clouded.
I cleared my throat. "Oh... what are you doing?"
Draco blinked, and his body jolted a little. He straightened up, at full height now, and said stiffly, "Theo told me to mix cinnamon with sugar..."
He trailed off when he noticed the ingredients in my hands, and his jaw tensed.
I shrugged awkwardly, the equipment clinking against each other. "He told me that too. Does that really need two people to—"
"Yes, it needs two people!" Came Theo's holler from the main kitchen. "It cannot be messed up. Make the measurements precisely. PRECISELY."
Draco shifted on his feet and shut the door, then came over and took everything out of my hands. I just stood and watched as he walked past me and placed them on the table. "I'll measure out the cinnamon?" He proposed, offering me a tense smile.
I pursed my lips and nodded, going over to stand next to him shoulder to shoulder. "Sure. I'll do the sugar."
I reached across from him and grabbed the jar of sugar and the measuring cup, popping open the jar, and Draco did the same with the cinnamon. I refused to look at him as I plunged the cup into the jar, gathering the sugar. I dug the cup deep, deep, deep, and soon the cup was scraping the bottom and making a loud crackling noise. I hope this sound makes you want to tear your hair out, Malfoy.
Draco's hot fingers closed around my wrist, and the noise immediately stopped. I snapped my gaze to him, and his eyes were hard.
His throat bobbed. "Granger..."
What more could he want from me? I clenched my teeth. "What?"
The silver in his eyes swirled, and his tongue flicked out and across his lips. "I'm sorry."
I said nothing, just continued to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide and dilated, and they were darting across mine, scanning.
He gulped and started again. "I owe you a personal apology. Not just part of a group one. I'm... really sorry."
Oh.
He wanted to do it privately. For me.
"It's okay, Malfoy," I uttered meagerly. But I looked deep into his eyes, so he knew. That I meant it.
Draco got the message, because relief flashed across his features and his shoulders instantly relaxed. "Okay."
The door slammed open and Theo barged in. There was flour covering his robes. Draco and I jumped apart, his burning fingers leaving my skin. But Theo wasn't even looking at us, he was looking at the bowl between us, and the absence of ingredients in it. His eyes shifted to Draco's right hand, which was holding a measuring cup currently overflowing with cinnamon spice.
Theo threw his hands up. "Guys, I said precisely. God damn, do I have to do everything myself? Get out of my kitchen."
__
"And... my masterpieces are complete."
We were sitting around a small round table, just a few feet away from the entrance to the kitchen. The fireplace blazed weakly, casting a dim glow over the room as Theo set down the hot tray of snickerdoodle cookies, fresh out of the oven. While they were baking, Theo had come out and given each of us a golden goblet filled with milk.
"About damn time," Pansy sighed as Theo sat next to her. "It's been two hours."
"You can't rush perfection, sweetheart," Theo purred into Pansy's face, and she scrunched up her nose in reply. He faced the table and declared, "Dig in ladies, Pansy."
Blaise, who was in the middle of a sip of milk, choked and set his goblet down abruptly. "Did you just call me a lady—"
Draco piped in, "And me—"
Pansy complained, "And implied that I'm not one—"
"It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Theo chuckled, pushing the tray forward with a fingertip.
I grabbed the nearest one, tearing a piece off of the fresh dessert and placing it in my mouth. The flavor burst forward, engulfing my mouth in a wave of warmth and cinnamon. My eyes bulged in surprise, and a low moan left my throat. I looked around the table and saw similar reactions. Pansy's entire cookie was already gone, and her face was glowing with delight. Blaise was dunking his in milk, taking another large bite. Draco was studying the cookie carefully, turning it over, like he couldn't believe what he just ate. And Theo was sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, with the smuggest look on his face that I have ever seen.
Draco looked up at Theo. "This is actually like... not awful."
"It's really good!" I praised, clapping a bit in the palm of my hand. Theo did a mock bow with his hands, grinning.
Pansy swallowed a gulp of milk and let out a satisfied sigh, her lashes closed and resting on her cheeks. "Not bad. I wouldn't mind another one."
"Mind one? Give me more." Blaise reached forward and grabbed two more, instantly dunking one in milk and closing his teeth around it.
Theo wiggled his eyebrows in an I told you so manner. "Told you. I'm quite skilled in the kitchen."
Draco grunted. "Please. You literally know one recipe."
"One killer recipe," Theo quipped, and Draco stopped to think, then shrugged and nodded in agreement.
"And what does the recipe kill, exactly?" I giggled, tearing off another piece and devouring it.
"Hungry stomachs, darling. This is the solution for world hunger," Theo answered silkily. Blaise began to cackle, then I was, then we all were.
There at that old round table, four Slytherins and one Gryffindor sat at 11 PM on a school night, laughing about a cookie recipe. On the outside, it was just five friends.