Baton Rouge

- 12 -

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom and wrapped the white, fluffy towel even tighter around her thin body. She avoided looking at Malfoy, who was sitting on the sofa, and slowly walked over to the small travel bag that currently held all her belongings. She could have kicked herself in the ass for forgetting to take her change of clothes to the bathroom with her, thanks to her anger. As a result, she now felt the tired gaze of Malfoy on her body and bent down rather inelegantly to rummage fresh knickers and a thick sweater out of her bag.

"You have to do my laundry," she whispered softly and was shocked at how hoarse her voice sounded now. She glanced at Malfoy, who still had his arms folded behind his head and didn't seemed particularly responsive.

Hermione wondered if he might actually had had a hard business day. But what could be so hard that Draco Malfoy wasn't trying to hide his exhaustion from her? However, Hermione didn't know that Malfoy hadn't really slept since she had been in his apartment, so she just shook her head and pushed away the thoughts of the blonde Ex-Slytherin's work.

She clicked her tongue when she still hadn't gotten an answer after a few seconds, and Malfoy massaged the spot between his eyebrows, sighing.

"Why would I do that?" he finally murmured, putting on the condescending look Hermione remembered from her school days.

"Because I don't have a wand, and I'm holding my last fresh clothes in my hand," she hissed irritably and straightened up again. "If you don't clean them for me, I'll have to wash them in your bathtub by hand. Is that what you want, Malfoy?" She glared at him defiantly as a victorious grin slowly spread across Malfoy's face.

„All right, let's say I clean your clothes, then I need you to do something for me, too." Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise and crossed her arms over her chest.

What was that prat up to? If he wanted her to do something for him, he could've ordered it, after all, there was this miserable contract. But apparently Malfoy wanted to play today.

"And what would that be?" Hermione finally asked, trying to keep her voice as bored and disinterested as possible.

Malfoy lolled on the sofa for a few seconds, then slowly stood up and drew his wand. Hermione backed away and clutched the sweater to her chest tighter.

"I'll clean your stuff, and when I'm done you could give me a nice back rub." Malfoy grinned and put a hand on the back of his neck. "I could use it. I'm totally tense." His smirk turned into a grimace and Hermione wondered if he was kidding her or actually being in pain.

"Why don't you just order me to do that?" she asked confused, her mind quickly searching for a hitch. Anyway, massaging didn't sound too bad. Hermione had definitely expected something meaner, if not sex straight away.

It seemed like Malfoy would have to think about it for a moment, but then he shrugged and gave her an impenetrable look. „I don't know. It's kind of more fun when you're doing it voluntarily." With that cryptic statement, he turned away and entered the bathroom while Hermione shook her head in confusion.

What was that supposed to mean?

She quickly slipped into Malfoy's bedroom, where she dropped the towel and pulled on both the knickers and the sweater. It was long and fell loosely over her bum. It was also way too big, which Hermione noted with a frown. Was it possible that she had lost weight again? Even if she had eaten comparatively well? She turned absently in front of the mirror, not noticing Malfoy appearing in the doorway. Only when he leaned against the frame and the wood creaked slightly did she whirl around and pull the sweater as far as possible over her bottom. How long had he been standing there watching her?