"Oh, they've left?" Hermione said haltingly, looking around the room.
"Yes, we're finally alone at last." Draco said blandly, eyes never leaving the book he was reading.
"I was going to ask why you're still here."
The boy stayed silent, feigning his engagement with the book he'd been reading earlier that day. He had only come back after dinner for the chance of seeing her before he retired for the night. Her presence was soothing and he found his worries melting away whenever she was around.
"Well, then, it looks like you'd much rather be alone." She made to leave but in an instant, the book was forgotten on the window still and Draco had gotten up from his lazy sprawl across the daybed.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, walking toward a white chiselled table lined carefully with snacks. It was no bigger than a footstool and held cheese and cold cuts in a spiral, with crackers, grapes, and berries strategically placed by the house elves.
Hermione immediately stopped in her tracks, recognising his white flag and walking toward the table. "Now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind something... like a sandwich?" She said hopefully.
"Your wish is Kevie's command," Draco said charmingly, "He's the house elf who has assigned himself to us. Very sweet guy who almost threw himself out the window when I gave him a sickle so please don't try to set him free."
Hermione swallowed her words along with the sandwich in her mouth and watched as some bread, lettuce, olives, and tomatoes materialised.
Draco took a slice of bread and constructed a sandwich with deft motions before whipping out his wand.
"Wingardium leviosa."
"Literally, I'm two steps away from you," Hermione said with a wry smile as she grabbed the sandwich out of the air. "Who would have thought, Draco Malfoy, sandwich maker."
"Had to learn how to make my own sandwiches after Potter lost my house elf, hadn't I?" He put together another sandwich for himself and sighed blissfully.
"You know, you don't really talk about home much. It's usually me doing all the talking."
"I like listening." He replied simply.
"I'd like to listen for a change." She said.
"What's there to hear? All the stories are true. Pure blood family dating back centuries, dirty Galleons from a dirty vocation and an affinity for the elusive, which is how we... fell in with the Dark Lord."
"I want to hear about baby Draco and stories of Malfoy Manor – surely you must have some fond memories."
He seemed to struggle for a bit, but he managed to cough up one which wasn't much of a story anyway, "When I was younger, I heard my father talk about the dark times as though they were glorious. But when I came to school, I discovered that there was no glory to our name. I believed I would have everything I wanted, but I was wrong. I was received with the same prejudices that I came with. Muggleborns are worthless, Malfoys are filth. What's the difference, really?"
"We both know that isn't true – now – and that's got to count for something." She said with a small smile, a peace offering.
"Yes, but it doesn't change the fact that we are chained on opposite sides of the fence."
"Everyone has the power to make their own choices."
"Do we? It's easy for you to say because your family is not a part of this world and you can make your choices freely. What do you think will happen if I choose Harry's side over my family's?"
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
