Baton Rouge

- 17 -

It was, Hermione had to admit to herself, uncomfortably quiet. Normally she wouldn't have minded reading a book in peace, but right now she just wished Malfoy would break the wall of silence that prevailed in the apartment since he had kicked out Zabini.

Contrary to expectations, Malfoy had remained calm and hadn't raised his voice. Instead, he had just given Zabini an unambiguous look and walked him to the door. The black-haired wizard hadn't opposed him. He probably had known all too well what would have been in store for him in that case. After that, Malfoy had disappeared into the bedroom and hadn't reappeared yet.

Hermione sighed and nervously twisted a curl around her index finger. She wasn't much help, of course. Since the embarrassing situation in the living room and after seeing Malfoy's angry face, she no longer dared to go near him.

Everything in her wanted to follow him into the bedroom and correct what he had just heard, because of course she hadn't told Zabini the absolute truth. Malfoy had been an asshole and was certainly still self-absorbed. But it wasn't true that Hermione still felt this intense dislike for him. There might even have been a slight affection for him over the past few days, which wasn't due to the sex but more to his concern for her.

Yes, she wanted to talk to Malfoy, but for the first time in this bloody week, her big mouth failed her completely. She felt petrified, and the fact that Malfoy was punishing her with silence instead of anger didn't necessarily make things any easier.

Hermione wondered how she would feel if she were in Malfoy's place, and immediately felt guilty. Of course, her situation was strange and not exactly pleasant either, but he had never treated her badly in the last few days. She thought about how he had held her hair when she'd thrown up and how he had cooked for her. Fuck. Had she wronged him?

After pacing the living room a few times, Hermione crept over to the door Malfoy had disappeared behind and put an ear to it. It was quiet and she wondered what she had expected. Malfoy was unlikely to sit on his bed and cry. She shook her head, annoyed with herself, and then boldly tapped the dark wood.

"Malfoy?" she called softly and waited a moment before entering the room. It was a few seconds until she spotted him, then she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, sighing.

Malfoy stood in front of the window and looked out. His back was to her, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

"I'm sorry you heard that," she said, wincing when he immediately snorted loudly.

"You can't fool me, Granger." There it was again – her last name, sounding so damn derogatory coming out of his mouth.

Hermione rubbed her forehead and bit her lip nervously. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut? What did she care what Zabini thought or said?

Once again she gathered all her courage. "I only said it to satisfy him. He scared me. I... I wanted to get rid of him," she whispered, noting that it must sound like a bad excuse to him. But what else could she tell him? It was the truth that she had told Zabini exactly what he had wanted to hear so that he would leave the apartment as quickly as possible. Little had she known that Malfoy was standing behind her at that moment, listening to every word.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I am grateful for your help." That was also the truth. She didn't know what else he expected from her.

The next things happened so quickly that Hermione didn't have time to react. Incredibly agile, Malfoy turned and crossed the room in a few long strides. A second later, Hermione felt herself being pressed against the door. She gasped and looked anxiously at Malfoy's angry face hovering close in front of her own.