Project 137.43.M.D.

XVI. | DOLUS NON PRAESUMITUR

XVI.
DOLUS NON PRAESUMITUR
(malice is not presumed)

"Is that really necessary?"

"I suppose so."

"Don't you find that a bit strange?"

"Why? It's a great opportunity to socialize."

"Maybe I don't want to socialize?"

"Maybe as your guardian, I know what is best for you?"

"Maybe you overestimate yourself."

Hermione laughed, ending the quick exchange of words.

Malfoy grimaced as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. The shirt he had bought right after his discharge from the hospital was already too tight because he had eaten and exercised so well. So he had tried on an old shirt that had been in one of the moving boxes that had been delivered to him. Surprisingly it fit like a glove. So, apparently, he was back to pretty much the same physique he'd had when he had been sentenced ten years ago. That was reassuring. Or just the opposite, depending on which perspective you looked at it from.

Anyway, Hermione was feeling ridiculously cheerful and couldn't quite pinpoint the reason. It even made her a little cocky.

"Don't be so self-critical, Malfoy, and get a move on. You look good enough for the party."

She caught the surprised look he gave her through the mirror, but quickly spun around and left the bedroom, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Maybe that had been an overkill, but she was determined to make the best of the night, and Malfoy would be a part of it, so what? Perhaps Ginny was right. A little more self-confidence did her good and strangely enough, since their visit to the graveyard, it was easier for her to talk to Malfoy in an unbiased manner.

He followed her into the hallway and a faint rustle told Hermione that he was slipping into his jacket while she felt his gaze clearly on her back.

"All right, Granger. If it's absolutely necessary, we'll do it. I ask for something in return, though."

Hermione turned to him, cocking an eyebrow defiantly.

"You are not exactly in a position to set any conditions just because I take my task of reintroducing you to the magical community so seriously," she snapped in a playfully snotty manner, still eyeing him curiously. "That being said, I'm listening."

Once again it occurred to her that he was really good-looking; too good for someone who she had to supervise, and too bloody good for a war criminal.

Draco Malfoy was undoubtedly made to wear a suit. He was dressed all in black today. Of course, he had been dressed like that most of the time back in their Hogwarts days, but these days, without his boyish looks, he was almost illegally attractive in this attire. Then Hermione remembered that she wasn't even allowed to think such a thing, and that realization brought her back to earth in an instant.

"I want to be back in the air. If I get through this evening without dying of boredom or shame, then we'll be flying in the next few days. And you will take your task seriously once more and make sure that I don't fall off my broom a second time. Do we have a deal?"

A hint of a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and Hermione, who had expected something far worse, had to return his smile against her will.

"Fine," she finally accepted his request.

Then she opened the door.

***

It struck Draco as odd that this should be part of the legal guardianship he was under.