RP: Possession is 9/10s of the law.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger (with Crookshanks, Osiris, Lucifer, Fleck, and Cookoo all kibbitzing.)
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete
( I'm thinking 'bout moving in//Commit myself to you, forget where I've been )
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete
( I'm thinking 'bout moving in//Commit myself to you, forget where I've been )
He'd only made it through half his cigarette and he gave up on it, fairly certain that if he took too long, she'd come out and take them all away from him for the rest of the day. Draco crushed it out in the ashtray and rolled off the sofa, clambering to his feet with muttered complaints. Cookoo met him at the study door with a cup of coffee and a nasty look, and he stuck his tongue out at her back before lounging oh-so-casually against the doorframe. "I'm not allowed to help you put things away," he informed Hermione. "You slapped my hand for touching your things. Look, it's all bruised." He displayed a perfectly pale hand and pointed to a tiny, teensy mark on the back of one knuckle. He'd got it tripping over Crookshanks and Osiris that morning, but he wasn't confessing to that when he could earn some sympathy.
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"I slapped your hand for touching my instruments. They're very delicate and a few are dangerous. I gave you something to do." It wasn't very exciting setting up parchment and ink but it was a job that needed doing. "You don't have to help me, you know. I am quite capable of doing it all myse...OW! Dammit!" Hermione shook out her hand. That had bloody well hurt. She'd turned her head when he said she'd bruised him just in case he wasn't joking. Hermione lost her concentration on the instrument she was setting up and it burned her fingers. Tears sprung up in her eyes. "Ow," she whinged this time.
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Despite his scolding, he was examining her hand with care, cautious not to touch the burn. It wasn't severe, didn't look like anything that would require him to haul her to hospital, but he looked her over just to make sure. Ap Hywel's voice ran through his head as he went down a mental checklist, but it wasn't necessary. When the patient was his own girlfriend, he was six or seven times as vigilant about her care.
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It hurt but it wouldn't kill her, she'd burned herself on the thing before. "It will be fine, Malfoy. Do you have any burn creme in your lab?" She looked at him and noted his concentration, "Or whatever you think would be best. You're the future healer, after all." She had enough Galleons in her vault to buy proper equipment now and she could get rid of this second-hand one that overheated all the time.
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"I'll fetch that paste for you. Got just the thing, burn myself all the time on my cauldrons. You won't even notice it in ten minutes." Draco released her and wove his way out of the room, getting past cats and boxes and house-elf to return a couple of minutes later with a squat jar of burn paste and a small vial of pain potion, just in case.
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Crookshanks had made his way over and was rubbing against her leg by the time Draco returned. Hermione held out her hand for treatment. "Would you like for me to take a break with you when you're finished putting this on me?" She probably needed to let it absorb anyway.
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He glanced up at her through his lashes as he worked. "We don't have to. I was just yanking your chain earlier. I know you want to get this done. I'll work a little harder if you would like me to stop fuc--messing around."
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"I want to finish but I don't have much more to go. The books with sort themselves. Or at least they should since my charm worked on the books we brought over Tuesday night." He finished putting on the paste and she smiled. "Thank you, Healer Malfoy."
"What would you like to do, Malfoy?" She liked making him happy, too. As long as she finished by Sunday evening, she would be prepared for work next week.
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He recapped the jar and pushed it aside, still holding her hand and pretending to rub the paste into her skin with his thumb. "Honestly, Granger, I want to get you moved in. Then I want to celebrate with a drink or two. Next step on our lives together, yeah?"
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"Well then, I suggest you get on the parchment and ink. It isn't going to sort itself. Parchment in the right-hand desk drawer, please." She reminded him of what she'd said before. Hermione looked out the windows onto the terrace. "Malfoy, I was thinking about something earlier when you want to get coffee. What do you think about getting a lounger, a wide one, for out on the terrace so we could relax out there when the weather is nice? It would be much more comfortable for reclining together than chairs or the bench." She felt her fingertips and it seemed like everything had absorbed properly, so she went back to her instruments. There were only two left.
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"Sounds like a good idea." He glanced out the window, mentally arranging furniture. "I was thinking of putting up some sort of canopy, sunshade sort of thing. I'll be spending more time out there, especially as the summer comes on." He'd already purchased a larger ashtray for outdoor use, heavier so the wind didn't blow it off the roof and scatter ash and ends over the street. "Also talked to Mum a few months ago about getting a little rooftop garden going out there for you. You know me, though, I've no idea what grows best on roofs, so I was willing to take whatever suggestions she had. Does that sound like something you'd like? Flowers, canopy, great big lounger?"
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Hermione had her next instrument together and moved on to the last one. "Oh! My glass pen you gave me for Christmas is in my trunk with my stationery. I always kept those on the little writing desk at the end of my bed instead of in my work area. I want to use them in here now that I have a proper study all to myself." Hermione had her family photo album and her letters and things in her trunk too, all of which she planned to move into the study too, but they could wait. She didn't need those to work. She used her glass pen quite often though.
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He paused to suck down some coffee. "Want me to get it for you? Or do you have anything secret all tucked away in there that I shouldn't know about? Horrible Dark artifacts, or ... or I dunno, pictures of pink unicorns and love letters to Lockhart?"
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"I locked those in my vault on Thursday," Hermione grumbled. The goblin who controlled the cart she rode in had gone out of his way to make it unpleasant for her. She tried not to blush over the Lockhart comment. While she hadn't written her professor love letters, she did have a get well card as a memento of her silly school girl fancy. "I do have some things in there that are a little ridiculous, but I don't think there's anything incriminating, unless the picture of me in the bath when I was three or the photo of my naked baby bottom count."
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Still chuckling, he went to her trunk and crouched beside it to go through the contents. A couple of items made him smile, including a stack of letters with a very familiar handwriting, wrapped in a silver ribbon. Familiar, because it was his. He settled those back in the trunk with care not to disturb them, and with a glance towards the bedroom and a box tucked away under the bed with his own collection of letters. Still smiling, he sauntered back to Hermione's side, with the pen in its case in one hand, and a photo album in the other. "Do you mind if I look at this?" he asked, holding it out.
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He returned with her glass pen and her photo album. "I don't mind if you've finished setting up my parchment and ink. If not, I think you should finish that first. I'm done here." She'd put up the last of the books using her charm while he was digging around in her trunk.
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