Just a Kiss

Chapter 24

   "What are you doing in here, Malfoy?" Hermione growls, not really expecting an answer. His eyes roll around until they land on her, the grey orbs screaming their indignation. She's half tempted to leave him like this, but the ground is cold, and she isn't so cruel. "Finite Incantatum," she sighs and pockets her wand. 

Draco sits up with a groan and shakes out his limbs before standing fully. "There was no need to be so rough," he grumbles, walking past her and further into the room. Without asking, he drops into her chair that is sat in front of the fire and stretches out so his feet are warming. 

It's really only then that Hermione remembers her own uncovered feet and wordlessly casts a warming charm on them. They ache, which isn't entirely unexpected, given her carelessness when she left the house. With deft hands, she pulls off her soaked soaks and tosses them by the door, where they land with a wet slap. Rubbing each foot until the pinpricks die away, she whispers a healing charm to heal the damaged skin and walks on tender feet towards Draco. 

"What are you doing here?" She repeats, more firm but calmer. 

He looks up at her and smirks. "You run faster than I would have thought. It's difficult keeping up with you, especially in the snow. I'm just glad I managed to snag my shoes by the back door." Draco casts a cursory look down at her feet. "Merlin knows how you did it," he says with a sympathetic wince. "You didn't even stop once. Your feet must be like iron."

"Answer the question, Malfoy," she snaps, losing her patience. 

"And that magic you performed on this place? It's fantastic," he praises. "I wouldn't have ever bothered with searching the place if I hadn't been there to see first hand the revealing charm you used." He taps his chin idly in thought, eyes going distant. 

Hermione is more than ready to petrify him again. She doesn't reach for her wand, though, and pats herself on the back for the willpower.

Meanwhile, Draco is making himself comfortable in the chair, looking like he very much plans to fall asleep. It's really only the thought that murder is illegal that keeps her from reaching for her wand now. 

"Draco," Hermione snarls, "how did you even get out of the house to get here?" She stalks towards him, arms crossed. 

He cracks open an eye and regards her with a bored look, certainly not comfortable with an angry witch glaring at him, but doing a good job at masking the discomfort. Sighing like he's been put-upon, Draco says, "I'm here because I refuse to be left alone for an undetermined amount of time, which will result in another argument with you. Frankly, I'm tired of arguing, so I followed you." His words stun her, but he's going on before she can respond. "Getting out of the house was fairly easy. I managed to slip out of the door before it closed behind you, which avoided the electric shock, and did the same to this building because I assume it has the same warding." He closes his eyes, deciding the conversation over, and sinks into the cushions. 

Hermione chooses to ignore his second peace offering of the day, for the time being at least, Hermione sighs and turns to the desk where the letter is still waiting. "If I asked you to leave, what are my chances that you'll actually listen for once?" she asks. 

He hums in consideration. "Not very high, I'd say. I like it here," he answers, then stretches and crosses his arms behind his head like a pillow. A content smile replaces his smirk. 

Groaning, Hermione stomps to the adjacent room and places her hand on the knob. Here, she hesitates. 

This room, her private library, is the one secret she's managed to keep quiet for so many years. Not even Harry or George know what she turned the room in to. She doesn't want to share it with anyone, but she desperately needs to be alone and have him out of her way. He refuses to go back to the house, and this is the one place that will give her time alone.