Silver Chains

Chapter Eight

Hermione

Theo mentioned that the family would be away tonight, but Malfoy would be staying behind at the penthouse to finish some work things. I took that to mean Malfoy would be grumpy that he had to babysit me, so I decided to stay locked in my room with a book through the afternoon, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. Daphne and I had become what some might call friends over the past couple weeks, though it was increasingly hard to dodge her attempts to show me the torture chamber she dubbed the den. Or maybe Blaise named it. I'm not entirely sure.

The lights of the city send beautiful colors reflecting through the room as I lay on the bed, reading another book I found in the living room. This one is a copy on potions, one I'd never seen before. I'm about a quarter of the way through when a soft knock lands on the door, making me jump. Before I can resituate myself to sitting position, Malfoy opens the door and enters, his gaze roving up my body. Since I'm on my stomach, he has an unhindered view of my ass. Great.

"Everything okay?" I ask, rolling to look at him.

His silver eyes snap to mine, a slight flush spread across his cheeks. He's dressed casually in black jeans and a grey sweater that's tight in all the right places. I notice this, of course, because I'm observant, not because I'm actually looking at those places or anything.

"I wanted to see if you'd like to come eat dinner," he says quietly. I've never heard him sound trepidatious and I raise a brow.

"Did you order out or something?"

He clears his throat, looking towards the windows, "I cooked."

This has me sitting up, trying to catch his eye as I close the book and throw it behind me on the bed, "The almighty Draco Malfoy knows how to cook?"

I swear I see his chest still as he slowly drags his gaze back to me, and an apology is on the tip of my tongue, fearing I've made him mad.

"What did you say?" he whispers, his brows drawing together.

"I was being an ass," I mumble, unsure what he's about to do.

"No... you said my name."

I stutter, "Uh, yeah I say Malfoy all the time?" My stomach flutters as I inwardly berate myself for calling him Draco outloud. Why would I do that?

He shakes his head, a small smile curving at the corner of his lips as he turns and exits the room, calling out for me to follow. Still reprimanding myself, I hop from the bed and try to smooth my hair down with my fingers. Why am I feeling butterflies towards the idea I'm in the house with crazy ass Draco Malfoy, who bullied me all through school and is now some sort of crime boss or criminal?

I don't get to study the answers to that particular question because when I enter the living room, he's standing in front of a massive pine tree at the opposite side of the room with an embarrassed look on his face. The kitchen to my right smells divine and idly notice the dining room table is set for two. The plates aren't in our normal spots, but rather across from each other in the middle.

"What's all this?"

"Theo's idea," he bites out, avoiding my gaze. "He thought you might want to decorate."

"Did he now?" I say quietly, striding towards him. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, which sends a pang of something into my heart. I'm not quite sure I want to explore that feeling just yet.

"If you don't want to, it's okay-"

I don't think he's used to being interrupted, but I do it anyways as I come to a stop in front of him, craning my neck to look up at him, "It's perfect. Will you help me?"