When We Were Beasts

Labour

When Hermione woke, there was three unopened bottles of FireWhiskey, two boxes of cigarettes, a new toothbrush, expensive bottle of shampoo, and a glass bottle of what looked like body oil on the kitchen counter.

Malfoy was eyeing it all with a cheeky grin.

"What's going on?" Hermione said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"I took your advice and asked the room for some goodies," Malfoy replied pleasantly. "And it looks like Fate answered my prayers."

"FireWhiskey, Malfoy?" Hermione grumbled as she stood and straightened her clothes. She refused to sleep in pajamas, in case she needed to flee on short notice, even keeping her trainers on. "You could ask for anything and you ask for alcohol and smokes?"

"Are you going to command me to get rid of them?" His eyes turned sharp with challenge.

Hermione sighed as she pulled the carton of eggs out of the icebox.

"No, I'm not. In fact, I'm rather interested in seeing someone like you finally lose a little bit of control when you have one too many glasses of that FireWhiskey. Just please keep the cigarettes by the fireplace, please."

"'Someone like me?'"

"Yes, you're so..." Hermione thought about what word would work best. "Controlled."

"Is that what you think?" Malfoy moved to stand beside the open fire before he struck a match and brought the cigarette to his mouth, breathing in deep. He kept his eyes on Hermione as the smoke rolled out of his nostrils. He looked very much like the dragon that represented his family crest. Cold and cunning with an armor that was near impenetrable.

Hermione titled her head as she continued her routine of making breakfast, this time doubling everything.

"Yes, it's what I think, after spending so much time with you. Though I do want to finally know what would make you lose that control."

Malfoy was silent. Hermione took that to mean he had a few ideas of what drove him to act rash or chaotic, but that it was a weakness he tried not to exploit. Hermione knew she could ask him, and he'd be compelled to tell her. But it felt not necessary, at least...for now.

"How do you take your tea?" Hermione asked as she readied two mugs. One cracked and chipped, the other sparkling- brand new.

"No sugar, just the barest splash of milk."

Hermione hummed in understanding, letting the silence wrap around them.

It almost felt as it had before. It made her almost sick.

When Hermione finished making a simple breakfast, (eggs, toast, and tea) she used her wand and floated the plates and cups on a tray towards the area by the fireplace.

Malfoy tried to hide his surprise, but his raised brows and tapping finger against the worn rug gave him away.

"What?" She asked, tucking her feet underneath her as she slid the tray between them.

"It's just...thank you." Malfoy muttered, eyes on the food and cup of tea. He took a breath, and then asked, "Why are you doing this for me? You hate me. I know you want to kill me. You shouldn't have healed me, and you certainly shouldn't be making me food."

Hermione sighed. She knew he'd be suspicious of her sudden 'kindness'.

"Look, Malfoy, it kills me to say this, but I need your help."

He stopped chewing.

"Hermione Granger needs Draco Malfoy?" He said after swallowing his bite and patting his mouth.