𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

☾ Chapter 25

☾

She was still asleep when he emerged from his bedroom wearing merely sweatpants, blonde locks messy from tossing and turning in the night.

He was running low on his own pills.

But he didn't want to leave her alone, so he convinced himself he would fetch them later.

A knock rang on the front door forcing Hermione's eyes to blink open, groaning and burying herself back into the pillow beneath her head.

"Morning, Granger," he mumbled, opening the door to find nobody there, all but a large cardboard box sitting on the front porch.

Her eyes peeped up from the pillow in surprise; she hadn't seen him shirtless before.

"Here's your shit," he grumbled, slitting the tape open with a pocketknife before placing the box on the coffee table.

She sat up with a sigh, wandering hands rummaging through the package's contents.

She pulled out the pair of slippers first— baby blue, soft, to keep her feet warm.

There were socks, extra shirts, a gray sweater; but inside there was not a single pair of pants.

"Skirts?"

Draco rolled his eyes, looking at the skimpy piece of clothing, "I'll get you actual bottoms, Granger. Only skirts come in the package because—"

"—Easy access. I get it..." She finished his sentence with a scoff, "And I don't get underwear, or even a bra? Is this some sort of joke?"

He sat down besides her, twiddling the pocketknife between his fingers.

"I saved your life, Granger. You could be a little grateful— besides, it's not like you're going anywhere, let alone the fact that I'm not using you for that."

A long silence rang through the small house, the only sound being the soft crackling of his fire.

"I have some things I have to tend to, Granger," he stood from his spot on the sofa, grabbing a white t-shirt from his bed, "I'll be back tonight. There are scones in the fridge, feel free to make a cup of tea, so long as you don't burn my house down."

She nodded as he strode for the door, hooking the studded mask back over his nose, cloak covering his broad shoulders.

"The dandelion honey is in the cabinet," he muttered, twisting the door handle, "Don't use all of it up so quickly. The shit's bloody expensive."

And he was gone.

She spent the day exploring the little cabin, wandering as far as the chain would take her.

She could barely reach the fridge, stomach rumbling as the smell of peach scone, fresh from the oven, filled her nostrils.

She made a cup of green tea, watered his plants, tended to the fire; anything to keep her away from the finality of inevitable boredom.

The chain would not allow her to reach his bedroom. Hurt filled her heart as she stared longingly at the little bookshelf which sat inside, a mere five feet from her grasp.

Her eyes narrowed at the bottom shelf. She recognized them as books she had been read to as a child, read to by her Mother.

She skimmed the spines from afar; Animal Farm, Lord of the Rings, To Kill a Mockingbird, A Separate Peace, The Great Gatsby, Hamlet...

Draco Malfoy has muggle literature...?

"Merlin, you're so confusing," she whispered to herself, trying to knock the books from the shelf with the stick she used to pry at the fire, but she was too far.