Iron and Magic

CHAPTER TEN

Page count: 28

"Wow! Attractive," Tony remarked, looking up from the tablet that was propped up on the surface of the dining table whilst he sipped from his no doubt highly expensive blend of coffee.

Hermione scowled at him and reached up to brush her hair back from her face, her other hand covering her mouth as she yawned.

"What? You're my roommate, not my partner or boyfriend. I've no reason to impress you or attempt to catfish you by putting on my makeup first thing in the morning before you see me. You have full, unobstructed access to my disastrous bed hair, morning displeasure and bad breath."

Tony snorted and lifted his coffee in a toast. "Amen. It's so much easier not having to put lipstick on in the morning before someone sees me."

"Idiot," she rolled her eyes, tiredly slumping into the seat across from him, once more stifling a yawn.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Rubbish," she grumbled.

He looked to her concerned. "You had that asshole playing on your mind?"

"No," she shook her head, slouching forward, folding her arms on the table and pressing her face into the crook it created. "Unfortunately, being with them brings back unpleasant memories of the past."

"And those would be?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Something truly horrific and traumatising."

"You went to a posh, private boarding school," he pointed out.

"But that doesn't mean my experience was a good one. Far, far from it. During my school years, I was forced to face some life-threatening and life-altering decisions and situations, and no, I won't explain further, I try to avoid talking about my past as much as possible."

Tony eyed her curiously, his gaze darting between her and his tablet.

"You say you attended this school between eleven and eighteen, right?"

"Hmmm, your point?"

"So that means your friends did, too."

"And?" She questioned, slowly lifting her face from her arms and looking to him suspiciously.

"Nothing, just trying to get the facts in order," he responded innocently. "I ordered for you, tea and crumpets."

"What did I say about stereotyping me?" She scowled. "I don't even like crumpets."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Just trying to make you feel more at home."

"I'm in London, you pillock. I was born and raised here."

"Fair point," he nodded. "That's why I also ordered one of everything on the breakfast menu, just to cover my bases."

"Of course you did," she said unsurprised, standing from the table and crossing to the kitchen that was fitted with counters, cupboards and a fully stocked wine rack.

After pouring herself a cup of tea and selecting herself a portion of fresh fruit, she returned to the table, immediately noting that Tony eyed her chosen meal disapprovingly.

"I'm not that hungry," she offered with a shrug. He pursed his lips unhappily. "And have you eaten this morning?" She fired back knowingly. "Exactly, don't be a hypocrite."

Scowling, he stood from the table, headed for the kitchen and returned moments later with a number of food items sat on a plate and a knife and fork in hand.

"Happy?"

"Not really, I shouldn't have to remind you to eat. You preach self-care but don't practice what you preach."