Hermione stared, mouth agape, at the two boys slumbering upright at Narcissa's bedside. They were leaning as far away from one another as their chairs would allow, and they both looked horribly uncomfortable. Neither stirred as she approached though, and her mind spun in circles wondering how they'd ended up like this.
Neville's expression was peaceful, his mouth slightly ajar. Draco however, looked somehow more miserable in slumber than he did while awake. His forehead was creased, his eyebrows pinched in a straight, silver line. His cheeks were taut, his jaw clenched, making the angles of his chin even more prominent. She knew he could wake at any moment and find her staring, but his distressed features left her perplexed. He was a statue of personified anger, sculpted and chiseled from marble and pain.
What had she been carved from?
Draco shifted in his seat under her scrutinized watch, causing Hermione to nearly drop the drinks she'd forgotten in her hands. She'd stopped at a local coffee shop on the way in and had grabbed extras just in case. She'd also been especially sure to ask for creamer in all three, remembering the disgusted look Draco had failed to hide the previous morning.
Call it a witch's intuition.
Hermione debated just setting their coffees down and leaving the boys to rest, but she presumed neither wanted to be found in the company of the other. So she steadied herself and cleared her throat.
"Neville," she whispered. "Malfoy."
Neither boy stirred.
"Ahem," she repeated, louder this time. One of Draco's eyes reluctantly opened. It took a moment for him to adjust before his gaze locked on hers. His features softened minutely, but Hermione chalked it up to a trick of the light.
"Sorry," she breathed. "I didn't want to wake you. But I figured maybe you'd want to be woken." His cold eyes simply stared, assessing her. Hermione hoped her embarrassment wasn't obvious.
"Coffee?" she asked, extending a drink in his direction. Draco merely leered at her hands. "I promise these are better than yesterdays. I made sure they added creamer." Draco raised a surprised eyebrow at her before hesitantly reaching an arm across the boy they'd both momentarily forgotten. In that instant, Neville snorted loudly awake, making both of them jump.
"Morning, Neville," Hermione said softly, her arm still outstretched. Draco finally took the coffee from her, and she reached back to hand one to Neville.
"Thanks, Mione," Neville yawned, oblivious to her and Malfoy's strained interaction. "What time is it?"
"Nearly nine," she answered, eyeing the clock. "You boys look like you had a long night." Draco didn't move his eyes from his mother, and Neville's eyes remained locked on the coffee in his hands.
"Everything alright?" she asked.
"Fucking brilliant," Draco spat, the first words he'd said all morning, before raising the coffee to his lips. Neville peered up at Hermione, offering nothing but a small shrug, and a pained expression that said don't ask.
"Right," she mumbled, taking an awkward sip from her own cup.
---------------------------------------------
The rest of the day proved to be just as wearying. A healer slipped into the ward soon after Hermione's arrival, promptly shooing her and Neville out. She shot her friend a questioning glance as they left, but he offered only the word "Narcissa" before heading off on his own. Hermione sighed, wanting to pry more answers from him, but thinking better of it.
Instead, she forced herself to keep busy, helping any and every overwhelmed nurse she could find. The school year started in just a few days, and Hermione wanted to aid the hospital as much as she could before then. She knew she'd done more than necessary, but it still felt insufficient. Or maybe she just felt insufficient. Whatever the case, she bustled throughout the hospital hours into the afternoon. Her stomach growled painfully around dinnertime, and she sighed, knowing there wasn't much else she could do for the day anyways.
She made to leave, but caught herself, thinking of the blonde upstairs. She hesitated and spun on her heel. She hadn't seen him leave, but she could have just missed him. It's not like she'd expected him to say goodbye on his way out. She felt silly checking to see if he was still here. Surely he would have left by now.
Hermione stilled in the doorway, catching sight of the striking blonde figure hunched in his chair. His elbows rested on his knees, his face in his hands. He looked so small then, like a flower bud in a vase full of blooms. He had such a dominating presence in a room, but there was none of that now as he sat there curled in on himself.
Hermione hesitated.
"What do you want, Granger?" he demanded, his voice muffled in his palms. Hermione stood silent, caught off by his sixth sense and the dead tone of his voice. His head shot up and turned to meet her eyes when she didn't respond. His gray eyes were stone cold, his emotions tightly locked away behind his harsh expression.
Hermione fumbled to string together her words.
"You eaten?" was all she managed to say.
"What?" he sneered. Hermione cleared her throat.
"Have you eaten?" she repeated.
"Are you offering to bring me dinner now too?" Draco laughed humorlessly. Hermione straightened her spine.
"No, actually. I was just on my way out and figured you might be hungry. I honestly didn't expect I'd still find you here." Draco raised a perfect eyebrow at her.
"What has the world come to where Hermione bloody Granger asks if I want to get food with her," he smirked, shaking his head. Hermione's fists clenched at her sides.
"I was just trying to be nice," she muttered.
"You know, Granger, you don't have to fucking be nice," he spat.
"And you don't have to be so bloody irritable," she narrowed her eyes at him. They glared at each other for a few heartbeats before he huffed in annoyance and turned away.
"I know the hospital can be a little... confining," she continued, her fingers pulling at the bottom of her sweater. He simply ignored her.
"Forget it," she said, and turned on her heel, not allowing herself to look back. Her feet didn't stop moving until she was out on the street. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the sky, finally releasing the breath she'd been holding. Her eyes remained closed even as she felt a warm presence materialize behind her.
"Daydreaming, Granger?" his voice teased behind her ear. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to face him.
"Just waiting for you to catch up," she taunted.
"Yeah, well, don't read too much into this. I'm only here because the hospital food is fucking awful. I don't exactly prefer your company."
"What makes you so sure I'm thrilled by yours," she jabbed.
"Fair enough," Draco chuckled. "But I'd like to point out that you did ask me."
"And I'm already regretting it," she chirped.
Draco smirked. "Good."
Hermione groaned, and started off down the street, not caring to check if he was following her. She led them to a nearly empty pub, craving a quiet atmosphere. A bell above the door chimed as they walked through, but no one inside turned to spare them a glance. A few elderly men sat at the bar, nursing their drinks. Hermione picked the nearest booth and slid into it. Draco seemed skeptical about following her actions, but, against his better judgement, he took the seat across from her.
The dim light of the pub highlighted the sharp contours of his face, his square jaw prominent against the shadows of his neck. He wore a casual black sweater, the material snug against his torso. A silver signet ring graced his long fingers, and a loose wisp of his nearly white hair swept across his forehead. He looked almost ethereal, and Hermione wondered how someone so infuriating could also be so visually pleasing.
Neither of them spoke until a young, blonde waitress breezed by, a grin too big for her face plastered on her lips.
"Drinks, dears?" her high voice rang, the smile never faltering.
"Just a water for me," Hermione answered, returning a half smile.
"Water is fine," Draco echoed, not once looking up at the cheery woman before them.
The waitress flitted off, her blonde curls bouncing unnaturally with every step.
"This place is a dump," Draco muttered, his fingers picking at the edges of his menu. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.
"Sorry it isn't up to your standards," she gritted. "But we're here now. Deal with it." She picked up her own menu and held it up in front of her face, purposefully cutting her out of Draco's line of sight. She glanced over it absentmindedly, not reading a single word it said.
"Did you invite me here to hide behind a bloody menu all night?" he chided.
"I'm not hiding," she said, not moving an inch. His fingers pulled her menu down at the top, his eyes meeting hers.
"Could have fooled me," he raised an eyebrow.
Hermione sighed, lowering her menu slightly. "Did you want to talk instead?"
"Not particularly."
"That's what I thought," she said, and her menu flew back up. Draco let out a frustrated breath.
"Granger," he started.
"Malfoy," she quipped, not missing a beat.
"Granger, put the damn menu down," he ordered. Hermione clenched her jaw and begrudgingly flattened the menu on the table before her.
"Anything else your highness?"
Draco shrugged.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but the waitress reappeared and placed two glasses of water in front of them.
"What we eatin' tonight?" she hummed, pulling the pen from behind her ear and a pad of paper from her apron.
"Oh, um," Hermione's eyes flicked back over the menu, and she picked the first thing she saw. "The shepherd's pie would be lovely."
"And for you, doll?" the waitress turned to Draco.
"Make it two," he said curtly.
"Two pies comin' right up," she said as she slipped the menus from them and strode off. Hermione ran a finger distractedly around the lip of her glass, keeping her eyes on the slowly sinking ice cubes. She could feel Draco's steady gaze on her.
"I thought it was impolite to stare," she said, meeting his eyes. He gave her a quizzical look, as if he were trying to figure something out.
"What?" she huffed impatiently.
"Nothing," he said after a moment.
"Well, it obviously isn't nothing. So go on with it."
"Why did you invite me here?"
"What?"
"I said, why did you invite me here?"
"No, no, I heard you. Why are you asking me that? I told you, I thought you might be hungry."
"Yeah, but why do you care? We're not exactly friends."
Hermione shrugged and took a quick sip of her water.
"Do we have to be?"
That answer made Draco pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her.
"It'd look a tad depressing if I came here by myself," Hermione continued, gesturing at the lonely men at the bar.
"You have actual friends you could have invited," Draco sneered. Hermione dropped her eyes to the table, drawing invisible pictures into the wood with her finger. Draco immediately sensed her aversion to his gaze.
"Oh what, trouble in paradise?" he smirked.
"No," she answered a little too quickly.
"Well then, where's the famous Boy Who Lived," Draco asked mockingly.
"Harry spends most of his time with Ginny at the Burrow. I've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. It's an easier apparition, and I'm not in the way. The house is already full as it is."
"And what about your bloody boyfriend?" Draco pressed. Hermione's back straightened.
"For your information, Malfoy, Ron is not my boyfriend." she hissed.
"Ah, trouble in the sack. Figures Weasley can't keep it up."
"You're disgusting," Hermione spat.
"Well, what is it then?"
"I fail to see how that's any of your bloody business."
"I'm making it my business," his stare was icy, threatening Hermione to argue.
"If I answer that, you have to answer a question of mine." Draco's glare never faltered.
"Fine."
Hermione chewed her bottom lip, organizing her thoughts.
"Harry is too cheerful to be around lately. He thinks we can all just return to normal and go on living everyday like three months ago didn't happen. Like we didn't all lose a piece of ourselves. Some days it feels like I'm suffocating. Like I can't breathe. And I didn't even get the worst of it. Ron lost a brother, and he thinks nursing the bottle every night will fill the void. It's nauseating, and depressing, and I just... I can't look them in the eyes every day and not ignore what it's done to us. I can't ignore what we lost."
"What did you lose, Granger?" Draco asked. Hermione absentmindedly rubbed the sleeve of her forearm.
"Too much," was all she offered as an answer. Draco caught her movement but seemed to think better of pressing further.
"Alright, what's your question then," he asked, leaning back in his seat. Hermione was thankful for the subject change.
"What happened last night? I wasn't aware you and Neville were friendly."
"We aren't."
"Right."
"He was just there when I needed him. That's all."
"He's good at that," Hermione remarked.
"He's not that bad, I guess."
"Was that a compliment, Malfoy?"
"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "Longbottom is still a bloody airhead. The idiot thinks everyone will forget his recent accomplishments if he tells them about his dad."
"He said that?"
"You didn't know?"
"He doesn't really confide in me all that much," Hermione admitted.
"Cut the kid some slack. He just wants everyone to think he's capable."
"But I know he's capable!"
"Then you should bloody well tell him that!" Draco yelled.
Hermione pondered on his words for a moment, trying to remember the last time she'd praised Neville for anything.
"Alright," she said.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"I guess there is one more thing."
"Might as well get it over with now."
"Where have you been all summer? None of us have seen you."
"Because we saw so much of each other before," Draco mocked.
"Answer the question," Hermione demanded. He shot her a bitter look.
"Mother and I were staying at her sisters for a while. Andromeda's. Father wasn't around much, obviously. And the ministry seized the manor. Mother wanted her and I to leave for a while, start somewhere new." Draco looked down at his hands. "Plans clearly changed."
"So that's where you're staying now? Andromeda's?"
"I haven't gone back since mother's been in the hospital. Andromeda doesn't really like me much, and she has enough on her plate, raising Teddy by herself."
"Where have you been sleeping then?"
"I thought that was pretty fucking obvious."
"You've been sleeping at the hospital??"
"How observant of you, Granger."
"Why didn't you say something? I could have at least set a bed up for you!"
"I'm not a bloody charity case. I don't need a bed. The chairs are just fine."
"You're a horrible liar."
"So what? Anything's better than you doting on me like you care."
"Is it really so bad to accept other people's help?"
"From you? Yes."
"You're awful."
"So you've said."
They glared at each other in silence until their food finally appeared. They both mumbled a sour thanks to the waitress before she hurried off again. Hermione pushed the food around on her plate, her appetite lost.
"You know, just because I don't necessarily care about you, doesn't mean I want to see you suffer," Hermione finally said.
"You should," Draco said, not even touching his plate.
"Well I don't." She forced herself to take a bite, the flavor lost on her tongue. Draco rolled his eyes, but eventually picked up his fork and did the same.
"Are you coming back to Hogwarts then?"
Draco sneered.
"Why would I?"
"Well, it's a place to go for a start. And it's not far from your mother. All of the seventh years are being welcomed back."
"I don't think that welcome wagon has room for me. No one wants me back there."
"I think you'd be wrong," Hermione shrugged.
"And what makes you so fucking sure?" he said, his grip tightening around his fork until his knuckles turned white.
"Well, I don't think Neville minds you so much. And I surely don't, even though you are still a prat."
"Thanks, Granger," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "But I doubt you and Longbottom speak for the rest of the school."
"As if you've ever cared what the school thought of you," she chided, stabbing her food.
"There's no help for me there."
"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Dumbledore's words fell out of her mouth without thought, and she watched Draco's mask slip for a moment. He quickly collected himself but didn't say anything further. Hermione turned back to her plate, and continued eating, not sparing him another glance until she was finished.
Draco pushed his unfinished plate aside, and the waitress returned quickly with a bill. They both threw some money on the table, and Draco silently followed her out. She meant to leave him on the sidewalk without a word, but a warm hand caught her arm. Before she could react, he whispered "I'll think about it" against her temple and left her standing dumbfounded in the street.