Wanderer

Violent Delights

Chapter Ten- Violent Delights

He knew the exact moment she entered the Room of Requirement. If the way the door slammed to a close wasn't enough, then it might have been the clicking of her shoes, or the soft chuntering that grew louder the closer she got, but Draco thought the most telling sign was the way the air changed, almost like it did before a storm.

He raised his eyebrows, slid a bit of spare paper to keep his page, and looked up in time to see Hermione Granger bursting over to him. She stomped closer, fell onto the settee opposite, and huffed.

"Happy as ever, Granger," he commented.

She glared at him and pushed her frazzled curls away from her face. "Don't. I am not in the mood, Malfoy."

She'd been calling him by his first time for a few weeks now, and his surname rolling from her tongue reminded him of normalcy, of a time Before. He wasn't sure he really preferred it. She must be vexed for her to revert back.

Still, Draco almost smirked. His cheeks were hollow, the crescents under his eyes black, and he felt his ribs dig into his flesh every time he shifted, but the smirk on his lips settled like a blanket around his shoulders, like an old skin. Granger's hair was sparking. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Talk about my knickers one more time and I'll hex you so hard you'll end up in Hogsmeade," she rummaged through her bag and hauled out a heavy book and a few scrolls of parchment.

Without another word, she started working. The Room had procured some sort of study: there were two black leather settees in the centre of the space, a coffee table reclined between them and a carpet stretched under their feet; a fire crackled contently in the hearth and bookshelves stood tall and stacked, like a forest around them. He didn't remember there being this many bookshelves when he walked in. Bloody Granger.

Speaking of, Draco watched her. He drummed his fingers on the cover of the book he had been reading, but found that he'd lost interest entirely. "Why are you annoyed?"

Granger's shoulders tensed. She mumbled (and he only just caught her through that mass of hair), "I'm not."

He scoffed. "Spare me."

Her head shot up and she glared at him and snapped, "Mind your own business."

Draco clicked his tongue, flicking his eyes away. "And here, I thought we were becoming friends."

He knew that would get to her and had to fight the smirk that was slinking its way back along his lips. In the corner of his eye, he caught her hair whip her face as she looked at him. Granger cleared her throat. She shuffled in her seat.

"Harry and Ron are working over Halloween," she said haltingly. "They said they'd try to visit but it doesn't sound like they have the time anymore. Something about a massive workload and a looming deadline. They've probably had all summer to do it and just procrastinated."

"Massive workload," Draco murmured. "Sounds like overcompensating."

She snorted. He looked at her in surprise and his lips quirked in a smile. "Something like that," she agreed. Granger looked up at him. Her eyes fell on the book. "What are you reading?"

"I'm surprised it took you so long to ask," he remarked drolly.

She scowled.

He picked the book up and flipped her the front cover so she could see for herself. An eyebrow rose.

"How... Muggle."

Draco swallowed. He felt a slight niggle at the tone of her voice. "What's wrong with that?"