Baton Rouge

- 9 -

Day 1 - Monday

Hermione opened her eyes with a sigh and it took her a few seconds to realize where she was. Then the memories flooded back and she froze, for she was actually lying on Draco Malfoy's sofa in Draco Malfoy's apartment. Fuck.

Panting, she sat up and felt something heavy and soft slide off her shoulders. Again, it took a moment before she finally identified it as a blanket, and she wondered, confused, how it got there.

All she could remember was stealing some milk from the kitchen and then curling up on the gray sofa, exhausted from the impressions of the previous evening. Then she must have fallen asleep. And the blanket under which she had apparently slept peacefully could only mean one thing: Malfoy had returned in the middle of the night and hadn't woken her up or done any other mean things, instead just cared for her being not cold. Except, that didn't make any sense when referring to Draco Malfoy. It seemed ridiculous to her and she looked around uncertainly, as if she expected him to jump out of a corner at any moment and laugh at her.

But Malfoy wasn't here. Either he had already left the apartment or he was still in his own bed. Hermione fervently hoped for the former, because then she could at least move freely, although she wasn't allowed to touch anything. She also felt the urge to take a long, hot shower, and apart from that, she could easily do without Malfoy's presence for a few more hours.

By now she was almost certain he was just bluffing to annoy her. He had never seriously considered forcing her to have sex with him. Knowing him, he probably didn't think she was up to his level anyway. Still, she didn't feel the need to see him or even talk to him.

Hermione got up slowly, straightened her sleeping clothes, and padded around the coffee table. For the first time she consciously perceived the apartment and looked at the simple, dark wooden furniture, the equally dark parquet floor and the large windows. It was a beautiful apartment, though not as large and ornate as she might have expected from the Malfoy heir.

What also immediately caught her eye was the fact that the apartment had no personality. Hermione found no memorabilia, no decorations, no plants or other furnishings that would make it feel comfy. Instead, everything was very functional and cold, as the head of the house himself. There wasn't even a carpet, Hermione realized when her toes got icy.

She shifted, shuddering, from one foot to the other and glanced outside. The weather was just as dreary as her mood and the autumnal chill was slowly making its way into the apartment. If only she had her wand to light a fire in the small fireplace set into one of the walls.

Hermione let her gaze wander and stilled longingly when her attention was drawn to another piece of furniture near the fireplace. The very well filled and large bookshelf unmistakably invited to browse and slowly she walked towards it. She immediately felt a strong urge to stroke the spines of the books, pull out one after the other, skim through them and breathe in the specific smell of old pages. She hadn't had that pleasure for far too long. All she was left with was Hogwarts, A History, and that wasn't satisfying in the long run, at least not for someone like Hermione.

She raised her hand, but it seemed as if she was being held back by invisible threads, and Hermione snorted in frustration. That damn spell. As if he would ever know that she had touched one of his books. Not to mention that she would, of course, treat any book with the utmost care, even if it belonged to Malfoy. She just wanted to open one of them very briefly. Just to glance inside and then put it straight back.

"Would you like to read them?"

She spun around as his voice caught her ear and saw him in a frame of a door that was definitely closed before. She shuddered at not hearing his footsteps or the door, and took a deep breath before she was able to answer him. But she couldn't think of anything suitable in reply. His sober tone and the way he watched her were so confusing that she almost forgot the books.