Just You

Breakfast (12)

Hermione wondered how she had possibly gotten into this position in the first place. Ten minutes ago, she was in the great hall looking to eat, and now she was in her dorm with none other than Blaise Zabini.
"So," Blaise said as he adjusted on the sofa across from Hermione. "Should I ask questions first, or will you tell me how long this has been going on first?"
Hermione drew back.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me." He looked at her pointedly. "Don't think you can be searching the Slytherin table up and down like your life depends on it without anyone noticing. And unless you've taken a liking to Theo, which I think rather impossible, than there's only one person you could be looking for."
Hermione felt flushed. She couldn't deny that he had quickly and correctly evaluated her behavior. She sat up straighter.
"Listen, even if me and Draco did have something going on, why would you have the right to know?" She heard him scoff.
"Because I bloody care about him, thats why." He suddenly looked annoyed with her. "I get that you might think Draco is cold to most people and downright mean to everyone when he wants to be, but some, like me, have managed to wriggle inside his defenses. I am his friend. His best friend."
"Oh. I'm sorry if I've insulted you." Hermione felt horrible for just a second. She knew Draco had close friends, but she thought that he was basically the boss around Slytherin who got everyone else to do things for him. She was stupid to think that it was the same as when he was twelve.
But then she remembered, Blaise had also just insulted her. He thought she really didn't know him at all. And while she was just beginning to peel back his layers, she thought of herself as at least a friend. And Hermione protected her friends. She guessed her and Blaise had that in common.
"Lets get one thing straight. It's rude of you to assume that I would start something with Draco if I barely knew him. It's not fair of you to think you know what happens behind this door. I know I have also made assumptions today, so if we can both put this behind us, that would be just great." Hermione was now a little worked up, a tiny fire in her eyes. Since when had she become so worked up about Draco?
Departing from her thoughts, she found Blaise's smug expression.
"I like you, Granger."
"Thanks?"
"Trust me, I mean it. I only came to make sure you weren't playing him for fool and had at least and ounce of care in you. I can see that you do."
Hermione's eyes widened. It was too late to deny anything between her and Draco wasn't real now. She did still have one concern, though. Blaise made to leave, and she stood to meet him.
"One more thing. Do you think Draco would want to tell you himself?" He looked puzzled by her statement. "I just mean that, he might want you to know from him first, instead of an outside source, or on accident. Like what just happened." His eyes shown with understanding as he walked closer to the door.
"I won't mention it, Granger." Before he left, he turned to look at her one last time. "I think this is a good thing."
"What is?" Hermione tilted her head. "Me and Draco, us conversing?"
"Yes."
And he shut the door.
+++
Draco felt amazing.
He had been flying himself exhausted for at least an hour, and he still felt exhilarated.
He had gotten up early that morning to start his quidditch training. He was a little late to start training before practice officially started, but he knew it was now or never.
He would take Hermione's advice and start picking up the pieces of his life he had so conveniently tried to destroy over this past month. Honestly, he was just plain stupid to not be training for quidditch. It was a good distraction, and it made him actually feel happy. Unlike his other methods for forgetting the world around him, this one seemed to have a positive effect.
Draco was so astutely thankful for the Wizingamot to still let him play. When he went to his trial, one of the main thoughts was that he wouldn't be able to fly again, at least for another year. But fate had been in his good graces, and he was allowed to fly as long as it was on the Hogwarts field.
He was hovering high, seeing over the tops of the stadium to see the breathtaking view of the morning. This was Draco's favorite time to practice. He loved seeing the light come through to all the trees, hills and valleys he often thought of as home.
His true home. Not some one filled with gray, but light and warmth.
He looked down to see some other players coming on to the pitch. That must mean breakfast was nearly over. He had completely forgotten. He probably should have at least said hi to Granger this morning.
Draco was going to try to get close to her. As scary as it was, it seemed nice. To have someone know you. But everytime she pressed a topic that was sensitive, if Draco wasn't drunk, he would avoid the question, and end up insulting her in the process.
Sometimes that would be funny, but one time she had thrown a book at him, and his shoulder had been sore for days.
He supposed he could steal some leftovers from the kitchen, and maybe even get something for Hermione.
He flew down to the changing rooms, took a quick shower, and walked back to the castle. It sucked that he couldn't even fly from the pitch to the castle. Not that the walk was terribly long, just inconvenient. But rules were rules.
After he had stolen some food he had taken some elves for, he set off for him and Hermione's common room.
When he entered, he again thought of the word chosen for it. And how things had changed behind this door. He didn't see Hermione at first, so he immediately went to the library. What a surprise.
"Hermione Granger!" He called, startling her. "I can't believe you would be studying on such a lovely day. The expression she wore was at first annoyance, but it soon softened when the humor of his words hit her.
"Don't pretend to be shocked. Nothing you say is going to make me change my ways," She said as she looked back down at her work. It was so neat.
Every paper, in perfect alignment with the others, the books at the perfect angle for reading and writing simultaneously. Her quill beautifully flowing in her hand, with two spares acutely lined up at the edge of the table.
"I know that there is some unmistakeable rule to never interrupt Granger during a study session, but I did go all the way to the kitchens to steal some food for you." he sat down then, unsure what to do with his full hands. "I even ran into some ungrateful hufflepuffs. Can you believe they-"
Hermione's face was suddenly alight, like some mix of anger and shock had rolled through her.
"Did you say you stole from the kitchens? From the elves?"
"Well no." Draco was confused as to why she really cared. "I asked them if they had any left overs from breakfast, which they then gladly handed over. I even tried to give them something like a tip, but they refused." He heard her long, drawn out sigh.
"Good. I have no idea why, but I had a worry that you would just sneak in there and steal anything you could before running away."
At that, Draco laughed a little.
"That's because it's exactly what I used to do. But not anymore."
"Good. Because I'm afraid I would have to gravely injure your other shoulder if you had."
"Granger, am I mistaken, or do you really care for the creatures who work in the kitchen?" Hermione looked offended at his comment, but calmly replied.
"Yes. I do. Greatly. Don't you remember the organization I tried to start in fifth year?" Draco's eyes widened as his might caught up with him.
"Holy hell. I had totally forgotten about S.P.E.M. until this moment!"
"It's S.P.E.W., actually. I really loved doing that. Although, all the elves hated me that year." Hermione, clearly too distracted to study, cleared a space for the food on the table in between them. She was on his right. As he set the food down, he looked at her, shocked.
"It seems with how you speak about them, they would like you most."
Hermione gave a little laugh, although it was a little pained.
"That's what I thought as well. I thought that by giving them clothing to clean, they could be free to choose their life. I started laying random clothing around the Gryffindor common room so they would have to clean it up. But most of them wished to stay here, and refused to clean it after a while."
Her eyes turned sad as she recalled the memory. The maple brown that Draco studied brimmed with tears. He didn't know what brought the tears, but he wanted to wish them away. Even in sadness, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. At least Draco thought so.
"Then, poor Dobby was in there every night, utterly exhausted, cleaning the whole common room by himself. He was the only free elf in the castle. Willing to help."
Draco remembered his old house elf.. He now regretted how he had treated him. The elf was always so kind to him as a child, and was there when his father often wasn't. Hermione gave a little, sad, giggle, and Draco's attention was suddenly all on her. He inched closer.
"You should have seen him the night me, Harry, and Ron found him." Her face was scrunched with a mix of happiness, longing, and grief. "He had a tower of hats atop his head, had socks even on his ears." She sniffed, trying to keep a good composure.
"But he never complained. He even thanked me." She looked in Draco's eyes now. Her golden-brown consumed his gray. "Can you believe it? He thanked me. Thanked me for getting to clean a whole common room by himself. Eventually, we helped. He would always protest, but Harry wouldn't hear of it."
Draco studied Hermione. He was utterly entranced by the raw feeling on her face, and how she told a story. The look in her eyes was far away.
"We were all so tired, and so I stopped. But he still thanked me nonetheless. He loved the clothing I set out for him. The socks especially. He would always wear them around." She was starting to cry now.
Draco watched as a singular tear fell from her face. Draco was often uncomfortable with emotion. But he too was reminded of the beautiful spirit his old house elf had. If he let himself think about it too much, crying didn't sound that bad.
He then got drawn from his brain when he heard Hermione try and stifle a sob.
"Hey," he said, reaching for her hand. She let him take it. "It's ok. Well, it's not, but.." He was really getting this right.
He pulled Hermione in closer and put one of his hands against her cheek. "I'm here for you, Hermione."
She collapsed against him. She sobbed against his shoulder, and he held her tightly. His hand covered the back of her head while the other held her waist, as if he never wanted her to leave. He grasped her like he knew her pain. Because he did.
Draco closed his eyes. What a shame it was such a beautiful day for a conversation so awful.
But then again, there was something beautiful about it, too.