Just a Kiss

Chapter 25

They're back in Hermione's safe house, reading in her library, when Draco breaks the calm air they've settled into. "What do you say to a game?" 

Hermione lifts her head, pulling herself from the other world her book had dragged her into. She blinks for a moment, shedding the plot of the book to focus on reality. "What kind of game? I don't want to play something ridiculous or embarrassing, so don't bother suggesting anything like that," she responds in an offhanded sort of way, wanting to return to her book. 

"I wasn't going to suggest any game like that," Draco snorts derisively. "What I meant was an intelligence game." He sets his book aside, marking the page before closing it completely. Hermione responds to his offer in the way he knew she would.

 Her head, which had been slowly drifting back down to peer at her book, shoots back up and her eyes go wide. A small smile stretches across her lips. The novel that had been in her lap slides to the side as she leans forward to sit on the edge of her seat. 

"An intelligence game?" Hermione echoes. She almost believes that she misheard him. Her doubts are soothed, though, when he nods his head in affirmation. "I'd love to play. Whatever sort of game it is, I'll participate." 

Draco chuckles and stretches his leg out across the space between them to poke her with his foot. "Someone's eager," he teases, not unkindly. 

Hermione flushes and ducks her head. "Oh hush, you," she mutters. 

"No matter. I can only assume it's because you don't often get to play these sorts of games, correct? It must be all quidditch with those...friends of yours," he says, hesitating a little over the word friends. 

Surprised that he guessed it so quickly, Hermione peeks up at him through her lashes. "It's not their fault that quidditch isn't something I'm very good at." 

"Well this is something we're both good at," Draco promises.  

"You still have yet to actually explain the game," Hermione points out, raising her head all the way now that her blush has faded away. Draco laughs again and shakes his head, making his long hair fall in front of his face. He huffs and shoves it back. "Remind me to take you to get your hair cut, as well. I much prefer it shorter, like in sixth year," she says with a quiet hum of consideration. 

Draco stills, brow shooting up. "So you admit to thinking I look nice?" 

There's that blush again. "No!" She all but screams. When he just smirks, Hermione rushes to say, "all I meant was that your hair looked nice in sixth year. Now it's long and you look-" 

"Like my father. That's what you're thinking, right?" 

Hermione winces, realizing that the way she is speaking about his appearance could easily be interpreted that way. 

"It's alright, you can say it," Draco says. "I thought the same." A beat of silence passes in which Hermione strains to find something to say that can fix the mood. "Never mind it, though. I'll remind you about the haircut." 

Clearing her throat, Hermione reminds, "the game, then?" 

"Right, of course," he replies, picking up where they had left off. "All that's needed is your brain. The point is to think of the most interesting fact and share with the other player. The one with the best will win the game." 

She nods along, already thinking of a few facts she'd like to use. "Is there a prize? It'd be dull if there wasn't. Just two people spouting off information to each other," Hermione says, scrunching her nose up at the idea.

"Isn't that just a normal day for us?" Draco jokes. 

Hermione shrugs. " All the more reason for us to need a prize."