He knew it was a stupid thing to do, but his bloody heart wouldn't listen to him. Now, Theo found himself inside the Muggle coffee shop Luna frequented. Her eyes immediately settled onto him, and he knew there was no turning back anymore.
It gave him some relief that it wasn't only him who wasn't sleeping properly these past few days. Luna's eyes were unnaturally glassy with dark bags underneath. She seemed oblivious of the paint streaks on her chin, and Theo was tempted to reach out and wipe them away. But he held his hand back, afraid that she would run away from him again.
"I... well... I didn't think you'd agree to meet me," he awkwardly greeted, lowering himself down on the chair opposite her.
He had never seen her so restless before. Theo always believed nothing would fluster Luna Lovegood, because she was always the one who made others feel that way, what with her eccentric thoughts and blunt words. And to see her like that because of him... Theo had no idea what to make of it.
"I didn't either," she replied in a whisper, her eyes now firmly glued on the table top. "But I'm here."
Theo swallowed, remembering how close he was to kissing her, and his heart gave another terrible ache. "Why did you run away?" he suddenly blurted out, unable to contain his curiosity anymore.
He believed he had been open enough about his intentions, and it had somehow hurt his pride when she left just like that. He had given Draco an earful for ruining his chance, threatening to blast him off from his life if things didn't work out between him and Luna. Of course, his best friend made it up to him by treating him to the Leaky. Theo had drunken himself to oblivion, praying to the gods above that Luna would at least leave his thoughts during his inebriated state, but all he thought about and dreamt was her.
It had honestly terrified him shitless.
"I was scared."
His eyes widened at the sincerity in her words. Her freckled cheeks were splattered with red, but her eyes held misery and Theo wanted to reach out once again, if only he could dispel that distress in her eyes.
"Why?"
Her blue eyes finally connected with his brown ones. "I don't know," she confessed, thickly swallowing as she tucked a stray strand behind her ear. "I..." Her hand crept to her heart and she lightly clenched it, her eyes turning terrified. "I... I've never felt this way before."
Theo wanted to laugh, in relief or happiness or something else, because damn it all, he bloody felt the same.
"Me too," he said, thickly swallowing to keep his emotions at bay. "Damn it, Lovegood, me too."
She quirked a small, shy smile and continued, "I don't plan on returning to the Wizarding World, Theo."
It was scary to think how that didn't bother him, for he was vigorously nodding his head. "I know," he assured. "I don't expect you to."
"I don't think you understand the magnitude of what I'm saying," she expounded, but her smile had widened and was blinding. "I... I might not use magic anymore."
Theo closed his eyes, heart thrumming with emotions he could not decipher.
A world without magic seemed daunting for him as a young Pureblood, but after the War... He was so tired, of the Wizarding World, of his family name, of... of being a wizard. Unbidden thoughts of a quaint house, in a Muggle neighborhood, conjured themselves in his mind. He imagined a nice hearth, with him perched on the couch, changing the channels on the telly to seek for his favorite show. And then, there was Luna, happily sitting beside him, holding tightly onto his hand, as she absentmindedly painted on her small sketchbook.
Everything felt peaceful and comforting. It was... it was home and Theo was afraid he'd frighten Luna away once more if she discovered what his thoughts were all about.
Funny how the peace and quiet he had always coveted might be offered by none other than Luna Lovegood.
But Theo couldn't completely turn his back away from the Wizarding World. His best friend was here and he had come to care for Granger and Rose, too. His bloody stepmother might have been a pain in the arse, but she still cared for him while his late father consorted with the Dark Lord.
Despite the peace and quiet the Muggle world offered, his heart still ached terribly at the thought of all the loved ones he would leave behind.
"I don't think you can completely separate yourself from the Wizarding World," he finally pointed out. When she questioningly looked at him, he continued, "You have friends that care about you deeply. Merlin, you exchange letters with Granger! And Rose... she'd be devastated if you couldn't see you anymore."
Her eyes watered, but the lovely smile on her face was unmistakable. "I... I might run away again," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.
As a tear ran down from her eyes, Theo couldn't help himself anymore. He leaned and brushed the tear away, his heart beating wildly inside his chest when he heard Luna gasp in surprise. He let his hand linger, waiting for her to pull away again. But then, she closed her eyes and leaned against his touch, and Theo knew this was the person he would like to spend his future with.
"Don't worry," he whispered with a charming smile. Luna opened her eyes and looked at him with so much trust and an emotion that was still too foreign for him to understand. "I can run fast enough to catch you."
__________
"Where are you going, Draco?" Rose suddenly asked, prompting him to flinch in surprise. He let the floo powder trickle back down on the pouch as he turned around and saw the inquisitive girl. Her mother was also behind her, mirroring the same expression on Rose's face.
"I didn't know you'd be back so soon," he said, wrapping the scarf tighter around his neck.
Hermione sighed. "Ginny had to cancel," she explained. "The Holyhead Harpies suddenly scheduled a practice for the whole day for an upcoming match."
"Smart," Draco said, quirking an eyebrow. "Since they'll be fighting against the Tornados for their next match."
The brunette rolled her eyes, absentmindedly clutching onto Rose's hand to keep her beside herself. "You should have seen the look on Ginny's face when she discovered her 'adorable niece' would root for the other team," she said, lightly pinching Rose on her chubby cheek. Her daughter pulled away and stuck out her tongue at her mother.
"She should have known," Draco said with a scoff. "Because Tornados are the best."
"Tornados are the best!" Rose echoed. A small smirk grew on Draco's face when Hermione merely sighed and shook her head.
"Anyway, are you going somewhere?" Hermione asked.
Draco nodded. "I'm going to visit my mother in the Malfoy Manor," he explained. "I haven't had the chance to drop by ever since..." His eyes flickered on the child beside Hermione, and he knew she understood the implication of his words.
"You're going back to the Manor?" Rose asked in excitement, pulling herself away from her mother and pattering closer to Draco. "Can I come too? I miss Cissa. And Lucius!"
Hermione's eyes had widened with her daughter's request and that was when Draco remembered he hadn't even told her he brought Rose to the Manor once. It didn't help that Rose sounded quite close with his father, who had been atrocious to a Muggle-born like her when he was still alive.
"Sweetheart, you've been to Draco's house?" she asked, deceptively calm, but her eyes were wild with bewilderment and panic.
"Yes, Mama!" she exclaimed, craning her neck to smile up to her mother. "It was big! Like this." She stretched out her arms as far away from each other as possible. "And it was pretty, too. There are a lot of paintings and statues, and Draco has this funny lights hanging on the ceiling."
Draco thickly swallowed when Hermione's eyes settled on his once more. "Look, Granger, I can expla-"
"Mama!" Rose gasped, her eyes lighting up. "Why don't you come with us? You can see Cissa again and meet Lucius!"
Hermione had considerably paled at her daughter's suggestion and Draco knew it was time to step in. "Rose," he called, drawing the girl's attention to him. "I don't think that's a very good idea."
She pouted, obviously disappointed and confused. "Why not?" she demanded.
Draco nervously ran a hand through his hair. How could he possibly explain to this girl that her mother was once tortured in the drawing room of his own home? How could he possibly explain to her how her mother still had some nightmares about it, remembering all those nights they camped away for their missions?
He glanced at her covered scar, once again remembering her screams that had haunted his dreams. He couldn't, for the life of him, allow her to step foot in a place that had scarred her forever.
"Just... just no," he finally lamely replied, unable to come up with a plausible explanation. "Don't be such a menace and just stay here with your mother, Rose."
Draco scowled when Rose exhibited the telltale signs of an impending tantrum. Her eyes watered and her bottom lip quivered and Draco guessed it would be a nasty one. "If you are going to throw a fit, I swear-"
"Draco," Hermione said, cutting him off. His grey eyes flew onto her pale face once more, but there was a determined glint in her eyes. "It's okay. I can come with you."
As his eyes widened in shock, all the signs of a tantrum disappeared from Rose's face.
"Really, Mama?" she squealed in excitement.
"Granger," he growled, brows knitting together in worry. "You don't have to do this."
"Please," Hermione insisted, her tone turning pleading. "It's all right. Rose wants to go and I..." She faltered as her breath hitched, but then she gave him a shaky smile. "I will be, alright."
His eyes never left hers when he addressed her daughter. "Rose," he called, "why don't you go upstairs and prepare for this field trip."
"Okay!" she exclaimed, then proceeded to go up the stairs two at a time.
Once she was gone, Draco darkly glared at Hermione. "This isn't the time to be a bloody Gryffindor, Granger," he snarled, noticing how her hand had started to quiver, too. "It's fucking clear how you're still terrified of my house. I can owl Longbottom and suggest a playdate with his son to distract Rose so she won't to insist to come anymore."
He turned around and was about to seek for a spare parchment, but Hermione held onto his hand, quite tightly actually, and halted him in his steps.
"Draco, it's okay," she reassured with a smile, despite how her hand terribly shook while holding his. "You're visiting your mother. The last time was..." She faltered, eyes now shining in concern. For him. "Maybe it isn't wise to let you go there alone."
Draco scowled, both at the witch for being stubborn and for his bloody heart for feeling things at the look in her eyes. "What isn't wise is for you going back to the Manor when you're obviously not fucking ready," he spat back, slightly regretting his tone when Hermione flinched with his words.
"Seriously?" she asked, quirking a disbelieving smile. "We are even fighting about this?"
"There is nothing to fight about," he snarled, "because both of us know that you stepping foot in that bloody Manor is not good for you."
Hermione blew an exasperated sigh and pulled his arm in retaliation. "Why are you being so difficult about this?" she murmured, now frowning at how his eyes flashed in annoyance.
"No, you're the one being difficult about this."
She wasn't given the chance to retort when Rose came bounding down the stairs. Glaring darkly at Draco, she turned to Rose and sweetly smiled at her obviously excited daughter. "Are you looking forward to this field trip, sweetheart?" she asked, throwing a smirk at Draco when her daughter eagerly bobbed her head. "It will make you really sad if Draco doesn't want you to go, right?"
Utter devastation crossed Rose face as she looked at Draco. "We're not coming with you?" she asked, her bottom lip quivering once more.
Draco darkly glared at Hermione, who wore a triumphant smirk on her face. "Ugh, fine, you're coming with me," he said, more to Hermione than Rose. "But we can't floo there because I haven't lifted the wards yet to let you inside."
Sighing, he offered each of his arm to the witches. Rose instantly latched onto him with a wide smile on her face. Hermione, however, was questioningly looking at him.
"I'll side-along Apparate you both," he said with an exasperated eye roll. "The Manor is still Unplottable. Although you've been there before, you have no idea where it is."
Nodding her head in understanding, Hermione finally slid her hand onto his arm. Draco ignored how pleasantly warm her hand was, still quite infuriated at the brunette for manipulating him to agree.
Then, with a resounding pop, they disappeared from Hermione's flat.
__________
Admittedly, the Malfoy lawn was fantastic. But of course, consumed with terror of returning to the house that had haunted her dreams, Hermione couldn't really appreciate the beauty that greeted her.
She was still rather sore at Draco for not telling her Rose had stepped foot in this house before. Of course, it was stupid for her to think that Rose would be harmed in this house. Seeing her daughter right now, playfully chasing the albino peacocks while Draco lightly scolded her, it was plain to see that Rose had loved her visit here before.
'The War has ended,' she told herself, again and again. 'The War has ended. You are safe.'
The scar Bellatrix gave her was uncomfortably itchy all throughout their journey. It took all of her willpower not to scratch it senselessly until the discomfort disappeared. Try as she might, she had researched endlessly to seek for anything that would remove the 'Mudblood' scar. But the deranged Death Eater had used a cursed blade, therefore cursing Hermione to forever bear her blood status on her forearm.
With a sudden jolt, Draco had enclosed one of his warm hand around her forearm, the one that bore her scar. Wide eyed, she looked at him but Draco was still distracted with Rose, also clutching tightly onto her to keep her overly eager daughter from bounding away.
She thought that perhaps he merely absentmindedly clutched onto her. However, when his thumb started to rub comforting circles on her covered forearm, Hermione could feel her throat clogging up with emotions. Blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay, she secretly thanked Merlin that at least he was here with her.
They finally arrived in front of the vast doors. Even before they could knock, the huge doors swung open, revealing a house-elf older than Tippy. Hermione was trying her very hardest not to smile at the cute, bright yellow tie hanging around the house-elf's neck, seeing how serious the house-elf was.
"Hi, Morty!" Rose greeted, enthusiastically waving her hand. Hermione this time allowed herself to smile at how the house-elf's eyes softened upon seeing her daughter.
"Master Draco," the old house-elf greeted, bowing low until the tips of his ears touched the floor. "Little Miss Rose." His beady eyes swept on Hermione in question, and Hermione wasn't quite sure why she flustered under the gaze of the dignified house-elf.
"I'm Hermione."
The house-elf looked mildly surprised, most probably recognizing her as the Golden Girl of the Wizarding World, but did not comment further. Instead, he looked back at Draco. "The Mistress Malfoy is in the East Wing Gardens, Master Draco," he said.
"Thank you, Morty," he replied. "Send some tea and pumpkin juice to the gardens."
"May I have scones?" Rose asked, hopefully looking up at her mother for permission.
Hermione smiled. "If that isn't too much of a bother," she supplemented, ignoring how Draco made a huge show of rolling her eyes. "But thank you, Morty. You're a good house-elf."
Morty puffed out his chest, preening at Hermione's compliment. With another bow, he snapped his fingers and disappeared with a pop.
"Seriously," Draco commented, ushering them both inside. "Do you make it a point to tell all the house-elves they're 'good'?"
Hermione huffed at the jest in his eyes. "If I cannot free them all," she reasoned out, "the least I can do is tell them they're doing wonderfully in their jobs."
"Of course they are," he retorted. "They're made to be wonderful in their jobs."
She merely rolled her eyes, knowing arguing with him would go nowhere. Draco grinned and took her silence as a message that he won, and happily lifted Rose into his arms.
Hermione realized he still was clutching her arm, and strangely she didn't want him to let go.
Draco finally brought them into the East Wing Gardens. Hermione couldn't stop a gasp from escaping her mouth, eyes taking in the beautiful garden. There were at least a hundred of rose bushes around; she deduced that a rose was Narcissa's most favorite flower. The said Lady Malfoy was lounging on one of the chairs in the garden, eyes staring nowhere.
Draco placed Rose back onto his feet and let go of Hermione's arm. She ignored how her arm felt strangely cold and merely stared as Draco rushed towards his mother.
"Mother, it is cold," he scolded, removing the scarf around his neck and wounding it around Narcissa's neck. His mother didn't take notice of him at all, or how Draco fussed on her to make her comfortable.
Hermione sadly looked at the obvious worry on Draco's face, sympathizing with him because, after all, both of her parents still had no idea she existed.
"Cissa!" Rose called out, and it was too late for Hermione to hold onto her daughter. The child already bounded towards the mute witch, climbing onto her lap and started yammering about her day. Draco didn't seem to notice Rose's sudden intrusion as he continued to make his mother comfortable.
Both of them were too distracted to see Narcissa lightly blinking and looking down at her daughter, a ghost of a smile on her face. But Hermione noticed, prompting her to smile. Maybe it was really a good idea to bring Rose to meet Narcissa after all.
"Draco," she called. The blond looked at her distractedly. "I need to use the restroom."
He nodded his head, fluffing out a pillow and placing it against Narcissa's back. "It's on the left side, at the farthest door," he said.
Hermione nodded her head and quietly left the gardens, quirking a smile when Draco scolded her daughter once more over something she didn't hear.
As she strolled through the corridors of the vast Malfoy Manor, Hermione was starting to think that journeying alone was a bad idea. All the portraits were sneering down at her as her 'Mudblood' scar uncomfortably itched once more. It seemed like they all knew she was of dirty blood and didn't deserve to be in this manor.
Quickening her pace, Hermione bowed her head and refused to look into their disgusted gazes.
'The farthest room,' she chanted mentally. 'Focus, Hermione.'
A brief flashback of the Second Wizarding War came into her mind and she paled. She remembered being dragged around here against her own volition, Fenrir Greyback's atrocious breath washing over her dirtied, tearful face. Panic overwhelmed her being as she broke into a small run, wanting to return back to the lovely garden as soon as possible.
"That sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it?"
Hermione gasped, pure terror on her face, as images of the Bellatrix' crazed face swam into vision.
"Did you and your friends take it from my vault?"
Terrified tears streamed down from her face and she swiveled around. The tears had clouded her vision as she blindly meandered through the manor without any clear direction in mind. It was only when she was staring widely at the vast door in front of her, recognizing the intricate design that had still haunted her in her sleep, when she realized her legs had unknowingly brought her to the drawing room.
Hermione shakily took a few steps back, Bellatrix' cackle deafening her ears. "No," she sobbed. "Please."
She gasped, feeling a solid figure behind her back, and she whipped around, wand poised ready to hurtle a spell. But upon seeing Draco's horror at the tears streaming down her face, she shakily let her arm fall back to her side. The relief of seeing him had overwhelmed her immensely as she threw her arms around his neck and held on tightly.
"I-I thought I had moved on," she sputtered out, burying her wet face against his neck. "I-I thought I was okay."
Draco wordlessly led her away from the room of her horrible nightmares. She half-expected him to bring her back to the East Wing Gardens, but was surprised to see he lead her in the huge Malfoy library. If she hadn't been distraught with her worst memory, she would have appreciated this library that greatly rivaled the library in Hogwarts.
"I figured you didn't want Rose to see you like that," he explained upon feeling her questioning gaze. Sighing, he fished out his handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Hermione.
"Thanks," she whispered back, accepting it with her shaking hands. She haphazardly wiped her tears, steadily growing embarrassed at being caught in the middle of a panic attack.
"I'm sorry."
She looked at him questioningly once more and noticed his tensed jaw and hardened eyes. His hands were balled into fists, too, and Hermione couldn't understand why he looked so angry.
"Why are you apologizing?" she asked.
Draco still refused to look at her when he answered. "It was stupid of me to let you roam around alone," he said through gritted teeth. "I... I got distracted with my mother and momentarily forgot that you..." He scowled and stared her down. "I told you it was a bad idea to bring you here. Damn it, why are you so stubborn, Granger?"
She realized that he was angry with himself more than he was angry at her. Looking past through his glare, she could see that he was terrified. For her.
Wordlessly, she held both of his fists, her thumb running circles at the dorsum of his hand. She waited until he had considerably calmed down before smiling weakly at him. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she murmured, cheeks coloring in shame.
It was minutes before Draco finally replied. "The drawing room..." He faltered when Hermione flinched, but she resolutely looked into his eyes, waiting for him to continue. "It was renovated so there isn't any trace of..." He thickly swallowed and looked away. "I... I haven't really apologized for that day, have I?"
Hermione blinked, slowly furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "For what?" she asked.
"For not saving you!" Draco suddenly exclaimed. His eyes were blazing with anger and distress, a haunted look shadowing his face, recalling the events that had happened years before. "Not even when we became partners during the War... I-" His breath hitched, pure agony on his face, as he now openly stared at her. "Sometimes, when I sleep at night, I still see you on that floor." He tightly closed his eyes and hung his head. "It was one of the reasons why I cannot live in this blasted place anymore."
Her heart swelled as she reached out and touched his cheeks. His eyes flew open in surprise, but Hermione merely smiled at him. "You saved our lives, even back then," she reassured, her thumb lightly brushing against his cheek. "You refused to outright sell us out."
"I still didn't do anything," he harshly bit back, his eyes dangerously flashing once more.
"It is more than enough."
His eyes widened at her words, before filling up with emotions that brought a lump into her throat. After all these years, she could see that that fateful night still tormented him, and it was more than enough for Hermione.
"You are an idiot if you think I blame you for what had happened to me," she admonished. The way his eyes flashed, however, made her believe that he still did, and Hermione was having none of it.
"Granger..." he whispered, one of his hand creeping up to hold onto her wrist.
Her heart hummed at his hold as a small smile spread on her face. "I'm stubborn, remember?" she asked.
Draco released a huge sigh, but the corner of his lips twitched into a small smile. "Probably the most stubborn person I've ever known," he shot back.
"Even more stubborn than Rose?" It had then dawned on her that Rose wasn't with him. A soft gasp tore away from her mouth as she frantically looked around. "Where's Rose?" she suddenly asked, paling.
"Don't worry," he assured, "she's with Morty."
Hermione marginally calmed down, but felt a little uneasy at the thought of leaving her daughter alone in this horrible Manor. "We should go back," she said, completely removing any remnants of her panic attack a while ago. Draco nodded his head in agreement and helped her onto her feet.
Whilst their travel, Hermione concentrated on the feel of Draco's hand pressed against her lower back, if only to distract herself from the stares of the portraits. As soon as they arrived in the East Wing Gardens, they realized that Rose was nowhere to be found. And so was Narcissa.
Hermione panicked once more, a million of scenarios running through her mind. She was about to bound away, but Draco's secure grasp on her wrist forced her to stay put.
"Wait," he said with a scowl. "I think I know where they are."
She allowed him to drag her throughout the corridors of the manor once more, curious as to why Draco was suddenly in a bad mood. She tried to ask him, but the look on his eyes had clamped her mouth shut. She knew she had no choice but wait.
Hermione perked up when she suddenly heard her daughter's voice, but the smile on her face turned into that of dread when she heard the unmistakable voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"... brought Cissa because she's sad," Rose chattered when both she and Draco finally arrived on the scene. Rose seemed oblivious at the sudden tension in the hallway, but Hermione could see how pale as a ghost Draco's mother was. The painting version of Lucius' portrait was also stunned to silence, and Hermione deduced that the couple hadn't seen each other for such a long time.
"I really, really, really think Cissa needs a friend, Lucius," her daughter continued, grabbing onto Narcissa's hand and pulling her closer. "And I thought of you!"
Hermione heard Draco gasp beside her. She looked at him, surprised to see that his face was as pale as Narcissa's. She tugged onto his hand to get his attention, prompting him to shakily look down at her. "What's wrong?" she whispered in concern.
"Healer Matthews once said that it would be best if my mother doesn't see father's portrait," he replied, slowly looking at his parents again. "H-he said... my mother reacted badly every time my father is brought up and..." A look of panic crossed his face when Narcissa moved closer to his father's portrait.
"Okay, calm down," she soothed. "I'll go get Rose and you get your mother, and then we -"
Her words died down when Narcissa's face crumpled, sobs tearing out from her mouth, as she finally reached Lucius' portrait. Draco swore under his breath, but Hermione kept him in place.
"Draco, wait," she whispered, watching as Narcissa shakily lifted her thin, frail hand and placed it on top of Lucius' hand. The portrait took a sharp intake of breath and Hermione couldn't help but gape as a tear slid down from Lucius' painted cheek.
"My love," Narcissa whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "How I've missed you."
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears at the raw emotion on Lucius face. She might have known him as an atrocious man, but the love in his eyes was unmistakable. Perhaps, Draco's father had only been blinded by Voldemort's power, but he still loved his wife deeply.
She shot a glance at Draco and saw that he was also in tears, eyes wide and round, shocked in seeing his parents interacting once more.
"Mama," Rose suddenly whispered, tugging onto her thick sweater. Her daughter looked upset, eyes sweeping at all of the adults in the corridor. "Why are you all crying?"
Hermione chuckled despite her tears and fondly ran her hand through Rose's curly tresses. "Oh sweetheart," she replied. "These are all happy tears. See?" She pointed at Narcissa and Lucius, both smiling widely at each other.
"And Draco?" she asked, worriedly peering up at the silent blond beside her mother.
Draco quickly turned his head away and discreetly wiped his tears. Hermione's heart swelled at how his cheeks darkened in embarrassment at being caught crying.
"We should... we should go back. I think we should leave them for now," he started, and Hermione merely wordlessly nodded her head. She noticed that his eyes were still shining and red, but allowed him when he lifted Rose into his arms and strode away. Her heart almost burst through her chest when Draco bestowed the lightest of kisses on Rose's head, prompting the little girl to giggle and hold onto his neck tighter.
'Yes,' she had thought, trailing behind the two. 'It was a good idea to bring Rose after all.'
__________
"I thought no cookies past bedtime?"
Draco smirked when Hermione flinched and craned her neck, a sheepish grin on her face.
"I can't sleep," she confessed.
He softly laughed and sat down beside her, snagging a cookie from her plate and pointedly ignoring the glare she sent his way.
"Why can't you sleep?" he asked, followed a huge yawn he didn't bother to hide.
Hermione eyed him in amusement and munched onto her second cookie. "Go to sleep, Draco," she said with a smile. "There's no need to accompany me tonight."
He merely shrugged and pulled out his wand. Then, with a wave, he summoned a glass and the carton of milk to pour himself some. "I can hear you munching loudly from the living room, so I got hungry," he teased, smirking at the affront on her face.
"I don't munch loudly!"
"Mmhmm, okay," he muttered, his smirk widening when she scoffed.
Silence settled between the two, save from their quiet munching and clinking of glasses.
"How was your mother?" she slowly asked, carefully looking into his eyes for some reaction.
Draco blushed, remembering how he broke down in front of her, again, because of what had transpired in the Malfoy Manor this morning. His emotions had just overwhelmed him so much, seeing his parents like that. His father might had been cold to him when he was alive, but he knew that he still loved them both very much. Draco could not truly hate him.
When Hermione was still looking at him expectantly, he realized he hadn't answer her earlier question. "Surprisingly," he started, "she is well. Healer Matthews dropped by when we left to check on my mother and told me that it might actually be good for my mother's health if she kept on conversing with my father's portrait."
She smiled and nodded her head. "That's good to hear," she replied.
Glancing beside her, Draco tried to observe the brunette. She was surprisingly well too, considering she was terrified when he found her standing in front of the drawing room. Thickly swallowing, his eyes landed on his glass of milk instead, trying to drown her screams that had haunted him for years.
"Are you... are you okay?" he whispered, refusing to look at her, afraid of what he'd see in her eyes. He still wanted to blame her for insisting that they should come with him earlier, but after how everything concluded, Draco did not have the heart to berate her further for being a stubborn witch.
"I am."
He frowned, finally lifting his eyes to connect with hers again. To his surprise, she was smiling at him. The panic and fear that had mingled in her gaze a while ago were completely gone. Eyes widening, he realized that she meant it.
"Maybe... well." She paused, a soft chuckle escaped from her lips. His eyes followed her fingers as they tucked an aberrant curl behind her ear. "I don't think it is a good idea to return to your manor soon, though."
"That is wise, yes," he said, nodding his head and smirking, remembering their conversation earlier.
Both finally finished their cookies and stood up from their stools. Hermione magicked the plate and glasses clean before turning back to him, a shy smile on her face.
"Well, good night, Draco."
He had a suddenly crazy thought of inviting her over to sleep with him on the couch – his couch. But he bit his tongue, still not quite sure if showing his feelings to her would be the wisest decision right now. Instead, he settled on reaching out and tucking the same stray curl that had bothered her earlier behind her ear.
Draco swallowed down his nerves when Hermione prettily blushed up at him. He had let his fingers linger a little too long, before completely pulling them back to his side.
"Good night, Hermione," he whispered in reply.
Her eyes lit up when he used her first name, and Draco silently swore he would start using it more often, if only it could make her very happy.
"I should... I should sleep now," he murmured, his traitorous eyes landing briefly on her tantalizing lips.
"Yes," she whispered breathlessly, her eyes also magnetizing down onto his lips.
Her eyes were slowly closing and bloody hell, she was so near, so close, and Draco could hear his heart beating wildly.
Her lips brushed lightly against him, but Draco swore he saw stars behind his eyes.
"Good night, Draco," she sighed once more, her lips barely brushing against his.
Before he could snap off his stupor, she was already back in her bedroom.