Chapter Twenty | What's in a Name

1.3K 32 0
                                    

Hermione stepped out of the floo into her flat, heading straight for the kitchen. With resolve, she wedged the ridiculously large box of Honeydukes' finest she'd been carrying into her chocolate drawer, then slammed it shut with a satisfied smile. That had been easy, much easier than she'd thought. Still, her feet wouldn't allow her to return to the living room. Hermione stared at the drawer, sighed heavily, reopened it, and dug into the box like a niffler searching for gold.

As the rich chocolate melted on her tongue, Hermione cursed Draco Malfoy. He had insisted that she take it that morning, claiming he'd accidentally ordered two for his mother and that he wasn't a fan of chocolate. When Hermione had eyed him skeptically, Malfoy told her it was better off with her than the bin. She'd taken the box, scowling furiously at herself and giving Malfoy a half-hearted thanks. If it had been a one-off gesture, Hermione would have been more gracious, but it wasn't. In the few weeks following Narcissa Malfoy's less-than fruitful interrogation, things had been—strange—between them. Malfoy was acting strange.

He was up to something, Hermione was sure of it, but she hadn't had a moment to breathe and consider his behavior. Even though there had been no attacks, no Dark Marks floating in the sky, and no missing person reports filed since the incident at Diagon Alley, the DMLE was the busiest Hermione had ever experienced. Instead of a calm before the storm, it felt more like frenzied prepping. Everyone was on edge, especially Harry, and he seemed suspicious at Hermione's request for medical exemption from field work, but as her boss, he couldn't ask specifics, not yet at least. Theo had happily signed the paperwork the first time she and Malfoy met with him for a wellness check in while they waited for her appointment date with the muggle healers.

And that was her problem, really. Malfoy seemed intent on following her around like a big, brooding blond bodyguard. Worse, when he wasn't brooding, he was being kind to her, excessively kind—uncharacteristically kind. Draco was a self-proclaimed 'selfish bastard,' yet he seemed to be rather selfless lately when it came to Hermione. He kept forcing her to take things from him—odd little trinkets, candy, flowers, and he had tea and toast prepared lovingly by the Malfoy elves waiting for her in her office every morning. When she politely explained that she normally ate breakfast at home, he told her to stop because he wouldn't.

Further, each day around lunch, Hermione would find him lurking outside her office, pretending to talk with Daphne, or on one truly bizarre occasion he claimed he was dusting, as if he knew what dusting even entailed. Then, he would act as though he was surprised to run into her and insist on escorting her to lunch, always either in his office if he'd had something prepared for them or in the Ministry's canteen.

Still, Malfoy always found time to walk her to her office from the lifts and back up to the floos each evening, and once he claimed to find a gold tennis bracelet that would "suit her perfectly," in his words, and demanded that she keep it. He complimented her, asked for her opinion on the most random topics, smiled at her when he thought she wasn't looking. It was unsettling, but Hermione—while she'd never admit this to anyone—rather enjoyed it.

His behavior was likely a side-effect of the bond. They had discussed it briefly and were meant to meet to do some research about it soon, but Hermione kept putting it off. She wasn't exactly sure why, and she wasn't interested in exploring that any further.

When her floo chimed, Hermione had just finished her third piece of chocolate and sprawled out onto her sofa—feet up and grumpy half-kneazle in her lap. At the noise, Crookshanks ceased his thunderous purring and jumped down, scurrying down the corridor towards his favorite spot under her bed.

A decidedly unhappy Ginny came through the floo, red hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, holding a squirming James. "Oh, thank Merlin you're home, Hermione. I've been trying to come through all day!"

The Best MistakeWhere stories live. Discover now