New Beginnings

Bad Form

Draco heard Hermione slam out of the house a short while later. He unpacked his trunk, and made his bed with green and silver sheets.

Gathering up his books, mugs, and few remaining groceries, he left the room. Dropping them onto the kitchen counter, he cast the strongest wards he could on his bedroom. No-one could enter it except him.

Draco went to put his books on the shelf next to Hermione's door. They tumbled out of his arms as he yelped, zapped by the wards she had cast over her room. He shook the numbness out of his arm, cursing her.

*****

After another exhausting day at work, Draco stopped at the nearby grocery store to stock up. He had passed as competent in dicing, and was now onto crushing endless amounts of aconite roots.

Pushing the truck along the aisles, he frowned at the muggle cooking instructions.

'Need some help, dearie?' An old woman smiled at him as he examined pizza box.

'Er, I'm, well I've never cooked a pizza before...'

'First time away from home?' Her voice was kind. 'It's easy enough, see the instructions are on the back. Remove all the packaging, put it on the shelf in the oven and turn it to the temperature it says. Once the time has gone, it should be cooked.'

'Th-thank you,' he stammered, shoving the box into his truck.

He got flustered again at the till, unsure which notes he needed to pay with. The cashier was patient and slowly explained the American currency to him.

Hermione hadn't returned to the apartment yet, so Draco was free to experiment without her interfering. It took a lot of swearing and kicking, but he finally switched the oven on. He shoved the pizza inside, then dashed off for a shower.

When he came out, the kitchen smelled disgusting. He opened the windows with a flick of his wand and dragged the oven door open. Black smoke billowed out.

The pizza was burnt, with foam packaging dripping through the slats into the bottom of the oven.

'Shit!' He reached in to grab the pizza, burning his hand. 'Aaaargh! Fuck!'

Draco sat on the floor, with tears streaming down his face. His wand shook as he clumsily tried to heal his hand. The pain eased but some pink blisters remained on his palm.

'Fuck this, I need a drink,' he growled, magically cleaning up the mess of pizza and foam.

*****

Draco stumbled back into the apartment in the early hours of the morning. He tripped over a stool and swore as it crashed to the floor.

Hammering on his bedroom door, he hollered to be let in. Unable to get past his own wards, Draco flopped onto the sofa. He was soon snoring loudly, face down into the cushions.

Drowsily, Hermione cast silencing spells on her bedroom walls and fell back asleep.

*****

The next morning Hermione found Draco in a tangle of cushions and blankets on the living room floor.

Rolling her eyes in disgust, she stepped over him. With a malicious smile, she slammed cupboard doors open and shut, clattering pans as she made breakfast.

'Whur'm I?' Draco groaned, clutching his head.

'Good morning!' Hermione trilled, opening the curtains with a flourish.

Draco blinked blearily at her, his blonde hair tousled and eyes bloodshot. He staggered across the room and grunted as he bounced off the protective shields on his door. He sighed heavily, peering around for his wand.

'Here it is!' Hermione sang, fishing the wand out of the fruit bowl. Draco lunged for it but she danced out of reach. 'Say pleaaaase!'

'And they say I'm evil,' he muttered. 'Give me my wand back,' he glared at her, teeth gritted. 'Please.'

Draco snatched the wand out of her hand and slammed into his room. Hermione listened for the shower running, then turned the kitchen taps on full. She smirked as she heard him squeal.

Hermione was washing the dishes, humming a muggle song, when Draco came out of his room, wearing only a towel.

'I know your game, Granger,' he hissed, stalking towards her. 'And you won't win. Do you know why?'

Hermione looked around frantically for her wand as he trapped her against the sink. Placing his hands either side of her, Draco leaned in close. She shook her head, clutching a soapy dishcloth to her chest. He was so close she could see water trickling from his damp hair, and the flecks of blue in his grey eyes.

'Because I'm a Slytherin and you, little Gryffindor, are way...out..of...your...depth.'

As he walked back to his room, Hermione grabbed her wand and shot a silent spell at his back. It bounced off a shield he cast wordlessly, knocking a pile of books onto the floor.

'Soooo predictable,' he drawled in a bored tone. 'Bad form to hex someone when their back is turned. Tsk, tsk. I thought you do-gooders were better than that.' Draco smirked at her over his shoulder from his doorway. 'Besides, if you wanted me to drop the towel, you should have just asked.'

There was a thump as the towel hit the floor. Hermione wrenched the fridge door open, cooling her burning face as she grabbed at food unseeingly. The sight of his pale, tight buttocks was seared into her mind.