Hey all! This chapter is a Dramione one, so I hope you enjoy their moment ;)
"Bloody stupid ferret! The nerve the git has!" Harry was cursing a few hours later.
He was eating dinner with Ginny and had just told her about the conversation he had with Malfoy earlier that day.
"Oh, don't be so hard on him, Harry." Ginny said calmly. "I know we never liked him all that much and that he used to be a stupid prat, but what if he deserves a second chance?"
"After what he did to Hermione how can you say that, Ginny?" Harry said despairingly.
"He was trying to help. In his own strange way he helped all of you back then, didn't he?" Ginny said with an intense stare and Harry knew what she was referring to. He sighed in defeat.
"I just don't want to see her getting hurt."
"She's strong enough to handle herself, Harry." Ginny smiled reassuringly, gently placing a hand over her husband's. "It's been hard on all of us when she got hurt, but she's fine now. She's stronger than you think." She let out a chuckle. "Don't know what to say about Malfoy, though. Poor bloke."
Harry stared at his wife in confusion, not knowing what exactly she was talking about. Seeing his look, Ginny told him what had happened the night she stayed at Hermione's place.
"You should have seen him, Harry. Oh, the look on his face was priceless." Ginny giggled hard.
Harry had to admit that he found the situation slightly hilarious, though imagining Draco Malfoy being flustered or overprotective was a bit impossible to him.
***
Hermione was just wrapping up in the kitchen when she heard a knock on the door.
"Yes?" she said, opening the door with a wave of her wand. "Mr. Malfoy, you're just on time. Please come in." She said with a bright smile at the sight of Draco waiting in front of her flat.
"Thank you. I thought I'd knock this time around." Draco joked, taking a step inside. "And I brought wine. I heard this goes well with pasta." He said, raising a bottle of red wine.
"Indeed it does." She approved with a nod. "Please take a sit. It will only be one moment."
Draco sat on the couch, feeling slightly awkward and out of place. Hermione smiled to herself then turned around, busing herself with the plates, levitating them on the table. Just as she was finishing, she heard noises from where Draco was sitting.
"Ouch!" Draco yelped. "You bloody beast!" he growled.
Crookshanks had jumped on his lap and was pawing at his hands, evidently unhappy about something.
"Crookshanks. Please behave!" Hermione admonished the cat. "I'm sorry." She looked at Draco apologetically. "That is his seat and he's very stubborn and possessive. I can't make him stay anywhere else."
"Hm, I see." Draco said quietly, eyeing the cat suspiciously. He somehow had a feeling it was more to it than that, but as he didn't have a way of proving, he just had to accept that reason.
He moved slightly from that spot and Crookshanks leaped into it as soon as it was free. He curled up into a ball and sighed satisfied. Then, gazed without blinking at Draco, his yellow eyes never once leaving Draco's face.
That proves it I guess. Cats are pretty possessive about what's theirs. I kind of relate to that. Draco mused silently, reaching his hand and slowly rubbing Crookshanks's back. That made the cat purr, closing his eyes in contentment.
"How come I haven't saw him at my place lately?" Draco suddenly asked Hermione, slowly taking his eyes away from Crookshanks.
"Oh, I placed some charms on the door and windows to make sure he doesn't escape again." Hermione said with her back turned to Draco.
"I see. That explains it." He said quietly, then added in a louder voice. "You know, I kind of feel bad about taking away his chance at adventure. If you want, you can leave him be, I don't mind having him around." Draco finished, still brushing Crookshanks's fur.
Hermione turned around, clearly about to reply when she saw the scene between Draco and Crookshanks.
"You know, he doesn't really like people in general." She said, slightly amazed. "He almost scalped Ron when I first got him in my third year and he almost ate Peter Pettigrew a few times."
"That makes him my hero." Draco said with a smirk, thinking about Ron being attacked by Crookshanks.
Hermione didn't seem to have heard him, though. She was deep in thought.
"I guess being half-Kneazle makes him dislike certain people. Kneazles can detect suspicious and distrustful people and are very protective of their homes. That sometimes makes them aggressive and very misunderstood, but I think they are wonderful." She finished fondly.
She had gotten close to Draco and was now leaning down, brushing her fingers through Crookshanks's soft fur. Draco looked up at her, realizing with a jolt of panic just how close she was. He could smell her perfume, mixed with spices from her cooking. Their hands briefly touched through the ginger fur, sending a shiver down Draco's spine. His body flinched and Hermione snapped her hand away, looking flustered.
"We should eat before it gets cold." She said hastily, looking away from Draco.
"Y-yes, indeed." He agreed, trying to recollect himself. He could still feel Hermione's touch on his fingers.
During dinner they chatted casually about their jobs, Draco's travels and foreign countries. Soon they started to feel more comfortable and at ease with one another. Draco even managed to bring tears of laughter in her eyes at some of the stories he told. It made his heart swell to see her so relaxed and happy in his presence. He realized how selfish he was, but it did not matter because right now he was making her happy.
After they finished with their meal, they started on the wine. Hermione cleared up the table and they both retreated, Hermione for the couch, careful not to disturb Crookshanks from his favorite spot, and Draco on the armchair.
With the wave of her wand, Hermione brought to life a set of knitting tools, that started to work on something that, in Draco's opinion, looked rather hideous.
What in Salazar's name is that ugly thing? He thought with a grimace.
His expression did not escape Hermione's eyes. She crossed her arms and frowned at him.
"You're probably wondering what that ugly thing is, don't you?" she asked coldly, staring at him with her brows furrowed.
"N-no, n-no of course not. H-How could I..." Draco stuttered, gulping silently at her expression.
After a moment, she renounced her frown with a deep sigh.
"It's alright, I guess. Ron and Harry used to say the same thing." She grumbled. "They are socks." She finally said with a huff of frustration.
Waving her wand again, she brought the knitting tools closer. They hovered lightly in the air between them, allowing Draco a better view. They were indeed socks, but not like any Draco had ever seen. They had weird patterns and were made out of a jumble of colors. Hermione looked at them as well and her expression slowly changed. Draco saw her gazing at the socks with sadness in her eyes. She brushed a hand quickly against her cheek, stopping a tear midway.
What are these things and why are they making her so emotional? Draco thought, watching Hermione carefully.
He wanted to ask her but immediately decided against it. It was better not to pressure her into telling something that was evidently making her very sad. As if reading his mind, Hermione took a deep breath before starting to talk.
"I'm making these for Dobby." she said, her voice quivering slightly.
"Dobby, the house elf?" Draco exclaimed, taken aback by her statement.
Wasn't he dead? He thought in bewilderment.
"Yes. Tomorrow is his death anniversary and I wanted to give him something. He always liked socks, therefore I am making these for him." her voice broke and another tear fell freely on her check. This time Hermione did not stop it.
"I'm sorry." Draco said quietly, not really knowing what he was apologizing for.
"You know, the saddest thing is, I don't really remember how he died." Hermione said, her voice strained. "I can't remember that day, nor what happened immediately after that. Somehow that makes it feel like an insult to his memory. Based on what Harry told me, he saved us from a horrible place, and I don't even... I don't even remember." She let out a soft sob.
Draco tensed up, clenching his fingers together. He felt his breathing catch in his throat and his face paled. She was clearly referring to the events that had taken place at the Manor, one of the memories Draco knew he whipped out for her. He wanted her to forget, to be able to leave happily without that ugly piece of her past, but apparently she was still feeling pain even without remembering.
Was it worth it then, doing all that? Was it worth making her forget if it didn't bring her peace of mind?
He felt a jab of pain in his heart seeing her cry like that and without realizing what he was doing, he got up and crossed the space between them. A second later he was kneeling in front of her, holding her hands tightly in his own, surprising both himself and Hermione by the gentleness of his touch. She let out a soft gasp at the feel of his cold hands around hers and looked at him with wide eyes. His touch felt strangely comforting and reassuring. Her brown eyes bore into his, trying to search for something there, an image, a resemblance, anything that might help her see him in her memories. But she saw nothing, except for those steel-grey eyes, looking at her with a sadness that matched her own.
Thank you all for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed the tender moments between Draco and Hermione. Stay tuned for the next chapters as well! Have a wonderful day! <3