The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge, Chapter 2
Title: The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge
Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye, little_dollface and mazvn for the beta and robs55 for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 5,456
* * *
It was almost dark by the time Draco let himself into the cabin. It wasn't often that Hermione got this riled at him, but when she did, it was best to let her cool off before attempting to smooth things over well enough for them to move on. Who would have known that her love life was such a hot button issue with her?
He'd gone back into the village and had found a pub. He disliked it when he had to go to Muggle pubs on his own to talk to the locals, because even though he'd occasionally had to mingle with Muggles these past few years, he wasn't completely confident that he would understand everything they said and wouldn't accidentally say or do something completely off to them.
Hermione was much better at the whole Muggle experience than he was. In fact, often she'd gone alone to the pubs and would come home late with more information than he could usually gather in a week...
He froze mid-movement. Wow. His mind had just never... gone there. He would never ever have pegged Hermione as the type to do that. But then again, maybe she hadn't. No, she probably hadn't. She'd been bluffing. Damn her and her love of mind-games. Of course she hadn't been seducing people for information.
Still, tonight he had gone alone, and even though he'd hardly seduced anyone for information either, he'd heard enough to realise that the thing up in the forest probably wasn't Muggle kids partying. At least they weren't any Muggle kids known to the people at the pub.
'I hope you're only back to get your things!' Hermione called from the living area. Apparently she hadn't completely cooled down yet.
'Nope,' he said, 'but I have food.' He went in and dumped it in her lap. She was lying on the sofa, reading, ever the consummate bookworm. This was the image he had of her-not someone who would go out and sleep with strangers for whatever reasons she had.
She wrinkled her nose and shoved the bag away. 'I ate.'
'All we have here is cereal.'
'So?'
'You can't live off cereal just to spite me.'
'That's where you're wrong. I can do whatever I want.' She began reading again, to dismiss him. She was actually pouting too. He loved how childishly he could make her behave.
'Fine,' he said with an exaggerated sigh. 'But then you won't get any of this.' He held up a second bag, the bottles clinking together.
Her book slowly lowered. 'No. No, no, no! You know what Harry said the last time we got drunk on the job. We're already in hot water!'
'That case was about catching a very dangerous murderer. This one is about the faint possibility of someone using a bit of magic or shifting in the woods on a full moon whilst selling off minor magical artefacts to the local antique shop.'
'Oh, did you visit that shop?' She suddenly looked interested. Well, at least she wasn't going to sulk in a manner that would botch the case. Potter might never fire her, but it would still have reflected poorly on both of them.
But then again, Hermione had never walked out on a case, no matter how annoyed she'd been with Draco. She'd walked out on him and had nursed her resentment for a while, and then they'd continued. He could hardly complain since he pushed all her buttons on purpose, and if he didn't want her to respond to it, he could stop. It was just such a fun thing to do.
At one point, she'd even seen through him and had refused to give him the response he wanted, but that had been even more fun. He'd loved to see her swallow her temper time and again, and when she'd finally blown up, it had been spectacular. Now she didn't bother not getting mad at him any more, and everyone got what they wanted. It wasn't like he didn't actually try to get on her good side afterwards. And, usually, he tried to behave when the case was serious. Some cases just... weren't that pressing. Petty thievery and the like wasn't something Draco was prepared to work around the clock for with no fun whatsoever. Murder, however, got his undivided attention. At least as undivided as it could get without him going bonkers.
'It's only open on Thursdays,' he replied. He sat down and pulled out a few of the different liquor bottles for Hermione to see. He might like sweets more than any grown man should, but she liked her booze more than any real lady should. It didn't matter much to her whether it was the Muggle or the wizarding variety.
'Harry is going to love what you spent all that Muggle money on,' Hermione muttered, seemingly having a hard time taking her eyes off the bottles.
'He's the one who wants us to get along, isn't he?' Draco reasonably said. 'We never do seem to have the same quality of conversation when we're sober.' If by "quality" you meant "cringeworthiness". He really didn't like it when Hermione decided to be frank, which usually happened whenever she became tipsy. But, still, alcohol was the easy way to get her to forgive him.
Hermione slowly sat up, putting away her book. 'You know, you're right about that. In a way, he actually ordered this!'
'Eat your food first,' he said, snatching the bottles out of her reach. 'I've seen you drink on an empty stomach and that is not pretty.'
She scowled at him, but for once did as she was told.
* * *
Hermione was staring down at her Jägermeister, one of her top ten favourite drinks. Maybe even top five. She loved the colour, she loved the taste, she loved the smell, she loved the slightly burning sensation as it slid down her throat...
'I'm fairly sure you're supposed to drink it from a smaller glass or with something non-alcoholic mixed in,' Malfoy was saying.
She glowered at him. 'I'll drink it any way I damn well please!' she announced and took a healthy swig. Hooooo-wheeee! Yep, now he was bearable to be around again.
She must have made a funny face, because he actually laughed at her and then leant back in his chair. 'You're such a boozer, Granger.'
'I am not!' she objected. 'I don't drink that often, and I always know when to stop.'
'What, when you pass out?'
'Exactly.' She took another swig. Like she'd ever passed out. Well, ok, she had, but not from overindulging in alcohol. Usually it was from a curse, and there was that one time from heat, but so far never from alcohol.
'All right, but don't pass out on me just yet. We need to come up with some way to appease Potter.'
'I thought we needed to get along.'
'Please. We've been working together, what? Seven years? Ever since I finished the training. I don't think we can get along.'
Seven years? She did the math in her head. She'd been doing this job for a little more than ten years-ever since she'd finished her NEWTs at Hogwarts. She had accepted the offer extended to everyone who'd fought on the right side of the war to become an Auror without any additional training. Ron, Harry and Neville had gone the same route, but they'd done it straight after the war without finishing their NEWTs and Neville had since left to become an Herbology professor at Hogwarts. Ron had also talked about leaving to work with George at his shop, but so far that was just talk. There really wasn't much to do for the Aurors these days; they'd had to temporarily stop the training programme because they couldn't keep the young ones busy, and they currently encroached on the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol's and the Hit Wizards' territories to keep active. Hence this slow and rather irrelevant case.
Also, for the first time, she was actively wondering what Draco had done in the year after the war, before he'd started his own three year training programme. He never really spoke about it much.
'No, you're wrong,' she replied to the matter at hand with a shake of her head. 'It's you, who can't. You're driving poor Ron bonkers as well whenever you're paired off with him.'
He shrugged. 'I guess. But I've only been off with him a handful of times in total, so I don't worry about that.'
Hermione didn't quite know how to make Draco understand that he should worry about it, because he didn't get along with anyone and not only wasn't it healthy, but he couldn't rely on partnering with her forever. She frowned, trying to compose that response, but then something occurred to her and she giggled. 'Maybe Ron didn't appreciate sharing a bed with someone he once thought was gay.'
Draco looked like he was close to getting a twitch. 'I never shared a bed with Weasley, actually,' he said.
'Oh? You were lucky enough to get two bedrooms?'
'No... we just didn't.'
Hermione snorted. 'Of course not. I forgot! Other men's man parts are dangerous, so sleeping together... what was I thinking? You might wake up liking each other's man parts!' She laughed, thoroughly amused by herself. She was possibly more inebriated than she'd thought. Oh, well, that was one way to punish Malfoy for being such a git, always getting off on pissing her off.
She took another sip of her drink.
Draco snorted. 'I've woken up next to you plenty of times without ever caring for your girl parts, so I doubt this was ever a fear in my mind. Weasley just seems to be a more private person than you are.'
Hermione frowned and bit her lip, the alcohol fogging her mind enough that it took her a second to latch onto what he'd said. 'Yeah, he's private. Hey, how come you never cared for my girl parts?'
'What?'
'I mean, don't get me wrong, my first instinct isn't exactly to jump your bones either, but most men just want a hole and a couple of squishy toys.' She made grabby motions with her hands and laughed. Ok, maybe she was pushing it now, but the sight of his face was priceless.
Draco's eyes widened slightly and he looked like she'd suddenly sprouted extra limbs. 'Granger! Don't be so crude!'
'Name!' So what if she wasn't exactly consistent on the name thing herself? Didn't mean that he shouldn't be!
He scowled. 'Fine: Hermione! Don't be so crude!'
She nodded her approval, but ignored his admonition. 'And add to that the sheer length of times we're sometimes off together... I can't really decide whether you're just so put off me that putting a bag over my head wouldn't even help or whether you're a prude.'
Draco spent a few seconds gaping and then he began spluttering. 'I... just... I never thought about it and, frankly, this is inappropriate. We work together, for crying out loud!' Were those pink splotches on his cheeks?
Aww. How cute. He was a prude. She'd always suspected as much from the way he rarely liked to talk about carnal matters unless he was absolutely pissed. Hell, even when he was pissed, it was hardly a common occurrence.
Hermione sniggered and took yet another swig. 'Tell that to Hendricks. When I was out with him a couple of months ago, he was very eager to get in my knickers.'
Draco's mouth compressed to a thin line and his eyes narrowed. 'Hendricks is married!'
Hermione nodded, a tad more serious now. 'I know. That's why he didn't succeed. But this is what happens to most men out on missions. The stress makes them seek the easy release.'
'Seems to me like maybe it happens to you too.'
'Hey!' Hermione snapped. 'I have self-control; I don't act inappropriately!'
'And yet you find it hard to believe that I can control myself?' he shot back.
'No,' she shook her head. 'Only slightly odd that it's always been so consistent. But, of course, I don't know what would happen if you took that well-turned young Robins out on a case.' There was a thought. It could be a you're-not-my-type-at-all kind of thing. Hermione could respect that. She didn't particularly want to be Draco's type-she'd met a couple of his girlfriends. In fact, come to think of it, she was quite flattered that he didn't find her to be that type.
'"Well-turned"?' He frowned as if it were strange she should know the attributes of another witch. She wasn't blind, for crying out loud! 'I did take her out on a rather lengthy case when she first became an Auror and, again, nothing happened. Do you really think I need to give Potter any excuses to get rid of me?'
'You're afraid of Harry? Don't be. You've been there too long for him to easily get rid of. I'm not even into women and I might sleep with Robins if I had the chance...'
'Your mind is mightily focused on sex tonight,' he said, wearily rubbing his face. Hermione realized he hadn't drunk nearly enough to appreciate her single-mindedness. Well, too bad! This would get him back for what had happened today and that one time he'd drunkenly lamented in great detail about his then-girlfriend wanting him to tie her up and use paddles and other things he didn't understand on her.
She supposed he'd always been a prude.
'Well, yes!' she replied. 'I had a shot at it earlier and then you ruined it for me...' She pouted as she remembered. That shop assistant had had the most gorgeous blue eyes she'd ever seen. And nice strong hands, too!
'Then you'll be pleased to know I went back and told him I'd only been teasing you. He asked for your number, but I always get a little confused what numbers they mean, so I said you'd be down to see him soon.'
'Really?' she asked, eagerly leaning forwards.
'Really,' he confirmed. 'But you're not doing anything in our only bed. Find somewhere else.'
Hermione uttered a rather unladylike squeal. 'Thank you! I'm sure it'll help our case a lot!'
He rolled his eyes. 'Our case. Right. Always your number one priority. I wonder how Weasley feels when the two of you are out and you chat someone else up.'
'Oh, I don't do that.'
'Well, that's always something.'
'When Ron and I are out, I do him!' She allowed that statement a second to sink in, before adding, 'Anyway, if I'm supposed to go down to the village tomorrow, I'd better get some sleep.' She drained her glass, got up, and went to bed, hiding her smirk. The prude would have a hard time processing the new info, she just knew it.
* * *
After much sampling, Draco decided he liked the clear vodka best. He might like his sweets, but sweet alcohol-like that Jägermeister Hermione had been so thrilled about-just tasted like something that had gone off to him. The chocolatey liquor, Baileys, was even worse and made him almost nauseous. Straight whisky was ok, but it just made him want firewhisky instead, so vodka it was!
He really needed to get drunk after the visuals Hermione had planted in his head tonight.
Why was she suddenly so obsessed with sex, anyway? Sure, the subject had occasionally come up before, but she'd never been so... single-minded and explicit
He'd really not needed to know about her and Weasley still being... fuck buddies. If they indeed were. Knowing Ron Weasley, Draco wasn't all that sure. Weasley was the sort that blushed at naughty words and was looking for steady relationships, not casual things with his ex.
Much like Draco had thought Hermione was, but those constant comments of hers were beginning to make him doubt what he thought he knew, and he very much disliked that.
Hendricks was married. Not to mention that he was the extremely dependable sort. He wouldn't throw his marriage to the wind just to get in Hermione's knickers; it was insane!
No. Hermione was pulling his leg. Wasn't she?
Feeling thoroughly annoyed that this should bother him so much, he finally got up and marched into their shared bedroom where he without warning turned on the light.
Hermione hadn't had enough to drink not to immediately wake up and object at the light glaring her in the eyes. 'You prick,' she groaned. 'Turn that off!'
'No,' he said, squatting by her side and ignoring her attempts to block him and the lights out. 'Why were you telling me those things?'
'What things?' Her voice was muffled by the duvet over her head.
'The things about Weasley and Hendricks. They're obviously not true.'
She lowered the duvet. 'You still on about that?' she asked, sounding incredibly annoyed for someone barely awake. 'It's true, all right? God, I never knew just how big a prude you were. Let it go.' She turned her back to him and pulled up her duvet far enough to shield from the light.
He tugged at her duvet so it slid down and her face was bathed in light again. 'You expect me to believe that Weasley would be all right with nothing more than the occasional bed shuffle with the woman he once intended to marry?'
'I don't care what you believe,' she growled and reclaimed the duvet.
'Tell me you're lying!' he demanded.
'I'm lying,' she muttered.
'You're lying right now, aren't you?'
She turned back to him and gave him an exhausted but slightly more awake look. 'I have no idea why this would matter so much to you. It has nothing to do with you.'
'But it does! For years I've reassured my girlfriends when I go off with you that you aren't that kind of witch.'
'And what kind would that be?' she asked, half-sitting up and narrowing her eyes at him.
'The kind that would throw professionalism to the wind for a quickie.'
'I'm not.'
'And yet you are. You apparently sleep with anything as long as it's not married.'
'No. I never compromise the situation for sex. I'm sorry that you can't handle that I don't pretend to be waiting around for some mythical True Love, I really am, but either you let me sleep now, or I will hex off your bits and tell your girlfriend that you tried to force yourself on me.'
He snorted and got up. 'I'd like to keep my bits, but there'll be no need to lie to anyone this time. She didn't trust me.' He turned off the light more forcefully than strictly necessary and then went out to consume some more vodka.
* * *
Hermione was busy scribbling down notes and making plans by the time Draco woke up. It was fairly useless, but it was something to do, to keep herself occupied. This case was the most boring one she'd been on in at least five years. Harry had probably known this when sending them here, and she could only assume that it was punishment for annoying him.
'Urgh, what time is it?' Draco asked, slowly and carefully trying to sit up from the sofa where he'd apparently passed out last night after doing his best to finish off the alcohol.
'Well past noon,' she primly informed him, 'and you call me a boozer!'
'I couldn't help it,' he murmured, his words muffled by his hands as he rubbed his face. 'I needed to forget that excess of information you threw at me.'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Whatever. Today is Wednesday, so we should go to the antique shop tomorrow.'
'Right. Been to the grocery shop yet?' he asked, flexing his jaw and grimacing as he got up. 'I'm just going to go brush my teeth...'
'Notice how I didn't play any loud Muggle music!' she called after him. 'And it wasn't because it wasn't tempting. This place has a CD-player and heavy rock albums... You'd have loved that.'
Hermione had to wait until he was done brushing his teeth, before he came back out and said, 'That does show uncharacteristic restraint. Why is that?'
She turned up her nose at him. 'I'm getting along!'
He walked over and patronisingly patted her head, saying, 'Very good!'
She smacked away his hand. 'That is not getting along!'
'Wanting credit for not doing something bad isn't exactly top notch either, Granger,' he said, before walking over and carefully lying down on the sofa again. 'If you haven't been to the grocer's yet, could you perhaps get some food from town? I'm neither in the mood to cook nor to eat your cooking, but anything hot and greasy will do.'
Hermione hesitated. She actually hadn't been sure whether she wanted to go, after all. It was one thing to go and get information the fun way when everything was normal, but to have Malfoy knowing about it and judging her in that way that wizards did best... it just turned her off the whole idea. Still, not going would send him the message that she was ashamed of her behaviour. She wasn't. She just didn't like being called names. Who was he to judge her anyway?
'I just need to get changed first,' she muttered and got up.
* * *
Draco closed his eyes. Ugh, his head! Getting drunk always seemed like such a good idea, and then the hangover arrived. Fortunately, he wasn't very prone to vomiting, but that didn't stop the world from spinning and his stomach from heaving.
Hermione was taking her sweet time getting ready to go down to the village-either that or she was just trying to annoy Draco by being slow. That wasn't going to work today. Once she was out of the cabin, he planned on sleeping some more and then, hopefully, when he woke up, she would have food for him. Food that she hadn't actually cooked. Hermione's cooking was something that nobody willingly suffered through more than once or twice. She always seemed to honestly try, but it just turned out awful every single time.
He heard her coming back into the room. 'What do you think?' she asked.
Draco slowly opened his eyes again and then spent some time debating what to say. 'A bit cold for that, isn't it?' was what he finally ended with. It was October last he checked, and that was generally not the time for short tartan skirts and low-cut tops. She even topped it off with pig-tails and a challenging look. He honestly didn't have anything else to add, though. At most, he wondered why she'd had that outfit packed, but he figured that was something he didn't want to know.
She seemed to realise that he wasn't going to make any comments and said, 'Ah, but I can't remember the last time I had a case in Scotland, and soon I'll be too old to wear this skirt-and don't you dare comment on that!' She scowled at him and he had a very hard time fighting a laugh. She noticed and scowled at him harder.
Giving up the fight, Draco grinned. Hermione had already had the dubious pleasure of celebrating her thirtieth birthday, and she wasn't above feeling self-conscious about it from time to time-something he wasn't above mocking her for. 'Don't worry, love,' he said slightly sarcastically, closing his eyes again. 'Nobody would ever accuse you of acting your age.' Ow, his head.
She ignored his comment. 'I don't know if they have curries down there, but I'll find something,' she said whilst-as far as he could tell from sound only-putting on a coat.
'That's fine,' he muttered.
'Do you need anything else?' she asked, not sounding particularly concerned, but, hey, at least she asked. That was an improvement. Usually she just made a lot of noise and offered him runny eggs when he'd had too much to drink. She claimed not to be obliged to pity him when it was his own bloody fault.
Of course, when she had been the one to over-indulge, she sang quite a different tune.
Ugh... runny eggs...
'Those little white pills they have?' he suggested. 'Unless, of course, you'll take mercy on me and let me have a potion.' He was feeling hopeful that she just might. One potion and he could be right as rain. Damn this stupid ban on using magic-and unfortunately potions too-whilst near Muggles.
'No potions,' she said. 'I'll see what pills they have for hangovers.'
And then she was gone. Blessed peace.
He fell asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Hermione half-ran the last bit up to the cabin and then hurriedly and very clumsily let herself in. Holy cauldron, it was cold outside. As soon as she opened the door, the warmth of the cabin hit her like a very big, very warm blanket.
A very dark one at that; not a single light was on, and dusk had long since arrived.
She quickly closed the door behind herself and turned on some lights so she could see. Ok, so maybe wearing a short skirt in autumn hadn't been her best idea ever, but she'd been annoyed and, besides, it had paid off.
She shuddered, put down the bag she'd brought, and began removing her coat, convinced that she would get warmer quicker without it. The coat was big, heavy, and soaked with the cold. As she finally got rid of it, she rubbed her arms, and looked down to see if her knees were blue. No... not quite.
'That you, Hermione?' came Draco's hoarse voice from the living area. 'You finally bring me some food?'
Way to be grateful! She took the food to him, and then went into the bedroom, wrapped the duvet around herself, and padded back into the living area. Warmth would come soon, she was sure.
Draco was investigating the contents of her bag with a sceptical look, but then carefully tried a bite of some chicken, before saying, 'I'm touched that you miss me so much that you plan on joining me in sleeping in here but, really, I was planning on moving back to the bedroom tonight.'
Hermione snorted. 'I just need to thaw. The wind around here is merciless! I swear, my bones are frozen!'
'Then your shop boy mustn't have been that good.' He again poked suspiciously at the food, before venturing another bite.
'It's not poisoned,' Hermione irritably said. 'And he was fine, but nothing would have kept me warm all the way back.'
'He couldn't have given you some kind of ride?' Draco asked, poking some more at the food, making Hermione develop a tic.
'If I'd asked for that, he would have expected an invite in,' Hermione dismissively said.
Draco looked up. 'Why? Didn't you already...?'
No. 'That is none of your business!'
'Huh,' he just said, taking another bite of his food.
Hermione fought very hard not to pick something up and throw it at his head. 'I learnt that a few weeks ago some bloke came to town and tried to sell some things he called heirlooms to the antique shop. The owner of the shop called Muggle police, but they had no record of anything with that description going missing, and so he bought them. I guess that was how we got flagged. I also learnt that the forest isn't a usual party spot because they believe there are wild animals up here. There's been sightings of what may be wild dogs.'
Draco was staring at her. 'Your method is effective.'
'Of course it is,' she snapped. 'I propose we find someone who knows something about tracking animals to see what animals there actually are up there.'
'Maybe you can find a tracker the same way you find information...'
Hermione stood. She'd been extremely nice to his sorry, hungover arse all day, even going out of her way to get him food and medicine, and this was the thanks she got? 'This conversation is over. I'm going to bed. I'd advise you to stay out here!'
Then she did a flounce, which would have been much more dignified if she hadn't still had the duvet tightly wrapped around herself.
* * *
Oops. Draco considered the possibility that maybe he'd crossed a line with that remark. But, really, since sex seemed to be her solution to everything else, why wouldn't he have made that remark?
'What about my pills?' he called after her.
The response he got was extremely colourful and made his eyes widen.
'I, um, will choose not to do that. Thanks all the same!' he replied.
Women.
At least he was feeling better now. He'd had some sleep and some food and... now he was sort of bored. He could probably sleep more, but he'd rather do so in the bed. The problem was that reclaiming the bed probably involved apologising, if not downright grovelling.
He didn't want to do that.
Get along.
Ugh. He supposed she had brought him food. And let him sleep. And got a lot of work done. All he'd done was lie about, nursing his hangover all day.
Sighing, he got up and went over to softly knock at the door.
Something smashed against it on the other side.
'Oi, don't wreck the place,' he said a little irritably.
'I'm not,' she smugly said from the other side. 'That was yours.'
Draco's mouth dropped open, and then he pushed the door open to see his picture frame lying shattered. 'Oh, very mature!' he scoffed, carefully getting the picture from the mess.
'I don't even know who that is,' Hermione said, 'or why you bring it everywhere.'
Draco looked down at his much younger smiling and winking self and the girl he was with. 'She was killed,' he simply said. 'Shortly after the war. They never knew who did it.' It had been his initial reason to become an Auror. Not that it had done an awful lot of good, but as far as motivations went, it had been a fairly strong one.
'Ah,' Hermione said, nodding. 'That explains a lot. Now, get out.'
Draco went over to his holdall, rummaged for a book, and then carefully placed the picture inside. 'You shouldn't be so careless with other people's possessions,' he coldly said. 'Especially when they're here to apologise.'
'You're not sorry. You just want to sleep in the bed.'
'Trust me, the bed is by far my biggest reason to apologise. I just happen to also realise that I went too far.'
'Was she your girlfriend?' Hermione asked.
'What?'
'Was she your girlfriend?' She motioned towards his holdall.
'I don't think that's any of your business.'
'Too late. You already stuck your nose in my business!'
They had a glaring contest. After a couple of minutes, Draco realised he wasn't going to win this one. 'Yes,' he bit out, without volunteering anything else.
'What happened?'
'One day she was gone.'
'Gone, disappeared, or gone, already dead?' Hermione was being very persistent.
He smiled wryly. 'As it turns out, both.'
'I'm sorry.'
'It's been a decade, Granger.' Really. You'd think she knew about losing people a decade ago.
'But you still keep her picture.'
'So? Don't you remember the people you lost?'
'Keeping a picture of your dead girlfriend with you sends a... signal.'
'I know. I've had enough fights over it to know how competitive witches can be with someone who's already gone.' He wasn't going to give it up for anyone, though. He'd promised not to forget her, to find her killer. He'd finally given up on finding who did it years later, realising it was consuming his life in a bad way and that he couldn't go on like that, but he could at least manage to remember her.
'Glorifying the dead and hanging onto them isn't healthy.'
'It's just a picture!' His aggravation with being put on the spot like this made him raise his voice.
'Obviously not,' she calmly responded, 'or you wouldn't carry it around like a security blanket.'
'I think we've discussed this enough!' He was not comfortable talking about Asteria with anyone under normal circumstances and this was just too much. 'I'm going to sleep in the bed tonight, and I'm not above throwing you out and locking the doors.'
Hermione snorted and then announced, 'I don't care!' and laid down, turning her back on him.
For a moment, Draco just gaped, but then he smacked his forehead.
Women.
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Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye, little_dollface and mazvn for the beta and robs55 for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 5,456
* * *
It was almost dark by the time Draco let himself into the cabin. It wasn't often that Hermione got this riled at him, but when she did, it was best to let her cool off before attempting to smooth things over well enough for them to move on. Who would have known that her love life was such a hot button issue with her?
He'd gone back into the village and had found a pub. He disliked it when he had to go to Muggle pubs on his own to talk to the locals, because even though he'd occasionally had to mingle with Muggles these past few years, he wasn't completely confident that he would understand everything they said and wouldn't accidentally say or do something completely off to them.
Hermione was much better at the whole Muggle experience than he was. In fact, often she'd gone alone to the pubs and would come home late with more information than he could usually gather in a week...
He froze mid-movement. Wow. His mind had just never... gone there. He would never ever have pegged Hermione as the type to do that. But then again, maybe she hadn't. No, she probably hadn't. She'd been bluffing. Damn her and her love of mind-games. Of course she hadn't been seducing people for information.
Still, tonight he had gone alone, and even though he'd hardly seduced anyone for information either, he'd heard enough to realise that the thing up in the forest probably wasn't Muggle kids partying. At least they weren't any Muggle kids known to the people at the pub.
'I hope you're only back to get your things!' Hermione called from the living area. Apparently she hadn't completely cooled down yet.
'Nope,' he said, 'but I have food.' He went in and dumped it in her lap. She was lying on the sofa, reading, ever the consummate bookworm. This was the image he had of her-not someone who would go out and sleep with strangers for whatever reasons she had.
She wrinkled her nose and shoved the bag away. 'I ate.'
'All we have here is cereal.'
'So?'
'You can't live off cereal just to spite me.'
'That's where you're wrong. I can do whatever I want.' She began reading again, to dismiss him. She was actually pouting too. He loved how childishly he could make her behave.
'Fine,' he said with an exaggerated sigh. 'But then you won't get any of this.' He held up a second bag, the bottles clinking together.
Her book slowly lowered. 'No. No, no, no! You know what Harry said the last time we got drunk on the job. We're already in hot water!'
'That case was about catching a very dangerous murderer. This one is about the faint possibility of someone using a bit of magic or shifting in the woods on a full moon whilst selling off minor magical artefacts to the local antique shop.'
'Oh, did you visit that shop?' She suddenly looked interested. Well, at least she wasn't going to sulk in a manner that would botch the case. Potter might never fire her, but it would still have reflected poorly on both of them.
But then again, Hermione had never walked out on a case, no matter how annoyed she'd been with Draco. She'd walked out on him and had nursed her resentment for a while, and then they'd continued. He could hardly complain since he pushed all her buttons on purpose, and if he didn't want her to respond to it, he could stop. It was just such a fun thing to do.
At one point, she'd even seen through him and had refused to give him the response he wanted, but that had been even more fun. He'd loved to see her swallow her temper time and again, and when she'd finally blown up, it had been spectacular. Now she didn't bother not getting mad at him any more, and everyone got what they wanted. It wasn't like he didn't actually try to get on her good side afterwards. And, usually, he tried to behave when the case was serious. Some cases just... weren't that pressing. Petty thievery and the like wasn't something Draco was prepared to work around the clock for with no fun whatsoever. Murder, however, got his undivided attention. At least as undivided as it could get without him going bonkers.
'It's only open on Thursdays,' he replied. He sat down and pulled out a few of the different liquor bottles for Hermione to see. He might like sweets more than any grown man should, but she liked her booze more than any real lady should. It didn't matter much to her whether it was the Muggle or the wizarding variety.
'Harry is going to love what you spent all that Muggle money on,' Hermione muttered, seemingly having a hard time taking her eyes off the bottles.
'He's the one who wants us to get along, isn't he?' Draco reasonably said. 'We never do seem to have the same quality of conversation when we're sober.' If by "quality" you meant "cringeworthiness". He really didn't like it when Hermione decided to be frank, which usually happened whenever she became tipsy. But, still, alcohol was the easy way to get her to forgive him.
Hermione slowly sat up, putting away her book. 'You know, you're right about that. In a way, he actually ordered this!'
'Eat your food first,' he said, snatching the bottles out of her reach. 'I've seen you drink on an empty stomach and that is not pretty.'
She scowled at him, but for once did as she was told.
* * *
Hermione was staring down at her Jägermeister, one of her top ten favourite drinks. Maybe even top five. She loved the colour, she loved the taste, she loved the smell, she loved the slightly burning sensation as it slid down her throat...
'I'm fairly sure you're supposed to drink it from a smaller glass or with something non-alcoholic mixed in,' Malfoy was saying.
She glowered at him. 'I'll drink it any way I damn well please!' she announced and took a healthy swig. Hooooo-wheeee! Yep, now he was bearable to be around again.
She must have made a funny face, because he actually laughed at her and then leant back in his chair. 'You're such a boozer, Granger.'
'I am not!' she objected. 'I don't drink that often, and I always know when to stop.'
'What, when you pass out?'
'Exactly.' She took another swig. Like she'd ever passed out. Well, ok, she had, but not from overindulging in alcohol. Usually it was from a curse, and there was that one time from heat, but so far never from alcohol.
'All right, but don't pass out on me just yet. We need to come up with some way to appease Potter.'
'I thought we needed to get along.'
'Please. We've been working together, what? Seven years? Ever since I finished the training. I don't think we can get along.'
Seven years? She did the math in her head. She'd been doing this job for a little more than ten years-ever since she'd finished her NEWTs at Hogwarts. She had accepted the offer extended to everyone who'd fought on the right side of the war to become an Auror without any additional training. Ron, Harry and Neville had gone the same route, but they'd done it straight after the war without finishing their NEWTs and Neville had since left to become an Herbology professor at Hogwarts. Ron had also talked about leaving to work with George at his shop, but so far that was just talk. There really wasn't much to do for the Aurors these days; they'd had to temporarily stop the training programme because they couldn't keep the young ones busy, and they currently encroached on the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol's and the Hit Wizards' territories to keep active. Hence this slow and rather irrelevant case.
Also, for the first time, she was actively wondering what Draco had done in the year after the war, before he'd started his own three year training programme. He never really spoke about it much.
'No, you're wrong,' she replied to the matter at hand with a shake of her head. 'It's you, who can't. You're driving poor Ron bonkers as well whenever you're paired off with him.'
He shrugged. 'I guess. But I've only been off with him a handful of times in total, so I don't worry about that.'
Hermione didn't quite know how to make Draco understand that he should worry about it, because he didn't get along with anyone and not only wasn't it healthy, but he couldn't rely on partnering with her forever. She frowned, trying to compose that response, but then something occurred to her and she giggled. 'Maybe Ron didn't appreciate sharing a bed with someone he once thought was gay.'
Draco looked like he was close to getting a twitch. 'I never shared a bed with Weasley, actually,' he said.
'Oh? You were lucky enough to get two bedrooms?'
'No... we just didn't.'
Hermione snorted. 'Of course not. I forgot! Other men's man parts are dangerous, so sleeping together... what was I thinking? You might wake up liking each other's man parts!' She laughed, thoroughly amused by herself. She was possibly more inebriated than she'd thought. Oh, well, that was one way to punish Malfoy for being such a git, always getting off on pissing her off.
She took another sip of her drink.
Draco snorted. 'I've woken up next to you plenty of times without ever caring for your girl parts, so I doubt this was ever a fear in my mind. Weasley just seems to be a more private person than you are.'
Hermione frowned and bit her lip, the alcohol fogging her mind enough that it took her a second to latch onto what he'd said. 'Yeah, he's private. Hey, how come you never cared for my girl parts?'
'What?'
'I mean, don't get me wrong, my first instinct isn't exactly to jump your bones either, but most men just want a hole and a couple of squishy toys.' She made grabby motions with her hands and laughed. Ok, maybe she was pushing it now, but the sight of his face was priceless.
Draco's eyes widened slightly and he looked like she'd suddenly sprouted extra limbs. 'Granger! Don't be so crude!'
'Name!' So what if she wasn't exactly consistent on the name thing herself? Didn't mean that he shouldn't be!
He scowled. 'Fine: Hermione! Don't be so crude!'
She nodded her approval, but ignored his admonition. 'And add to that the sheer length of times we're sometimes off together... I can't really decide whether you're just so put off me that putting a bag over my head wouldn't even help or whether you're a prude.'
Draco spent a few seconds gaping and then he began spluttering. 'I... just... I never thought about it and, frankly, this is inappropriate. We work together, for crying out loud!' Were those pink splotches on his cheeks?
Aww. How cute. He was a prude. She'd always suspected as much from the way he rarely liked to talk about carnal matters unless he was absolutely pissed. Hell, even when he was pissed, it was hardly a common occurrence.
Hermione sniggered and took yet another swig. 'Tell that to Hendricks. When I was out with him a couple of months ago, he was very eager to get in my knickers.'
Draco's mouth compressed to a thin line and his eyes narrowed. 'Hendricks is married!'
Hermione nodded, a tad more serious now. 'I know. That's why he didn't succeed. But this is what happens to most men out on missions. The stress makes them seek the easy release.'
'Seems to me like maybe it happens to you too.'
'Hey!' Hermione snapped. 'I have self-control; I don't act inappropriately!'
'And yet you find it hard to believe that I can control myself?' he shot back.
'No,' she shook her head. 'Only slightly odd that it's always been so consistent. But, of course, I don't know what would happen if you took that well-turned young Robins out on a case.' There was a thought. It could be a you're-not-my-type-at-all kind of thing. Hermione could respect that. She didn't particularly want to be Draco's type-she'd met a couple of his girlfriends. In fact, come to think of it, she was quite flattered that he didn't find her to be that type.
'"Well-turned"?' He frowned as if it were strange she should know the attributes of another witch. She wasn't blind, for crying out loud! 'I did take her out on a rather lengthy case when she first became an Auror and, again, nothing happened. Do you really think I need to give Potter any excuses to get rid of me?'
'You're afraid of Harry? Don't be. You've been there too long for him to easily get rid of. I'm not even into women and I might sleep with Robins if I had the chance...'
'Your mind is mightily focused on sex tonight,' he said, wearily rubbing his face. Hermione realized he hadn't drunk nearly enough to appreciate her single-mindedness. Well, too bad! This would get him back for what had happened today and that one time he'd drunkenly lamented in great detail about his then-girlfriend wanting him to tie her up and use paddles and other things he didn't understand on her.
She supposed he'd always been a prude.
'Well, yes!' she replied. 'I had a shot at it earlier and then you ruined it for me...' She pouted as she remembered. That shop assistant had had the most gorgeous blue eyes she'd ever seen. And nice strong hands, too!
'Then you'll be pleased to know I went back and told him I'd only been teasing you. He asked for your number, but I always get a little confused what numbers they mean, so I said you'd be down to see him soon.'
'Really?' she asked, eagerly leaning forwards.
'Really,' he confirmed. 'But you're not doing anything in our only bed. Find somewhere else.'
Hermione uttered a rather unladylike squeal. 'Thank you! I'm sure it'll help our case a lot!'
He rolled his eyes. 'Our case. Right. Always your number one priority. I wonder how Weasley feels when the two of you are out and you chat someone else up.'
'Oh, I don't do that.'
'Well, that's always something.'
'When Ron and I are out, I do him!' She allowed that statement a second to sink in, before adding, 'Anyway, if I'm supposed to go down to the village tomorrow, I'd better get some sleep.' She drained her glass, got up, and went to bed, hiding her smirk. The prude would have a hard time processing the new info, she just knew it.
* * *
After much sampling, Draco decided he liked the clear vodka best. He might like his sweets, but sweet alcohol-like that Jägermeister Hermione had been so thrilled about-just tasted like something that had gone off to him. The chocolatey liquor, Baileys, was even worse and made him almost nauseous. Straight whisky was ok, but it just made him want firewhisky instead, so vodka it was!
He really needed to get drunk after the visuals Hermione had planted in his head tonight.
Why was she suddenly so obsessed with sex, anyway? Sure, the subject had occasionally come up before, but she'd never been so... single-minded and explicit
He'd really not needed to know about her and Weasley still being... fuck buddies. If they indeed were. Knowing Ron Weasley, Draco wasn't all that sure. Weasley was the sort that blushed at naughty words and was looking for steady relationships, not casual things with his ex.
Much like Draco had thought Hermione was, but those constant comments of hers were beginning to make him doubt what he thought he knew, and he very much disliked that.
Hendricks was married. Not to mention that he was the extremely dependable sort. He wouldn't throw his marriage to the wind just to get in Hermione's knickers; it was insane!
No. Hermione was pulling his leg. Wasn't she?
Feeling thoroughly annoyed that this should bother him so much, he finally got up and marched into their shared bedroom where he without warning turned on the light.
Hermione hadn't had enough to drink not to immediately wake up and object at the light glaring her in the eyes. 'You prick,' she groaned. 'Turn that off!'
'No,' he said, squatting by her side and ignoring her attempts to block him and the lights out. 'Why were you telling me those things?'
'What things?' Her voice was muffled by the duvet over her head.
'The things about Weasley and Hendricks. They're obviously not true.'
She lowered the duvet. 'You still on about that?' she asked, sounding incredibly annoyed for someone barely awake. 'It's true, all right? God, I never knew just how big a prude you were. Let it go.' She turned her back to him and pulled up her duvet far enough to shield from the light.
He tugged at her duvet so it slid down and her face was bathed in light again. 'You expect me to believe that Weasley would be all right with nothing more than the occasional bed shuffle with the woman he once intended to marry?'
'I don't care what you believe,' she growled and reclaimed the duvet.
'Tell me you're lying!' he demanded.
'I'm lying,' she muttered.
'You're lying right now, aren't you?'
She turned back to him and gave him an exhausted but slightly more awake look. 'I have no idea why this would matter so much to you. It has nothing to do with you.'
'But it does! For years I've reassured my girlfriends when I go off with you that you aren't that kind of witch.'
'And what kind would that be?' she asked, half-sitting up and narrowing her eyes at him.
'The kind that would throw professionalism to the wind for a quickie.'
'I'm not.'
'And yet you are. You apparently sleep with anything as long as it's not married.'
'No. I never compromise the situation for sex. I'm sorry that you can't handle that I don't pretend to be waiting around for some mythical True Love, I really am, but either you let me sleep now, or I will hex off your bits and tell your girlfriend that you tried to force yourself on me.'
He snorted and got up. 'I'd like to keep my bits, but there'll be no need to lie to anyone this time. She didn't trust me.' He turned off the light more forcefully than strictly necessary and then went out to consume some more vodka.
* * *
Hermione was busy scribbling down notes and making plans by the time Draco woke up. It was fairly useless, but it was something to do, to keep herself occupied. This case was the most boring one she'd been on in at least five years. Harry had probably known this when sending them here, and she could only assume that it was punishment for annoying him.
'Urgh, what time is it?' Draco asked, slowly and carefully trying to sit up from the sofa where he'd apparently passed out last night after doing his best to finish off the alcohol.
'Well past noon,' she primly informed him, 'and you call me a boozer!'
'I couldn't help it,' he murmured, his words muffled by his hands as he rubbed his face. 'I needed to forget that excess of information you threw at me.'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Whatever. Today is Wednesday, so we should go to the antique shop tomorrow.'
'Right. Been to the grocery shop yet?' he asked, flexing his jaw and grimacing as he got up. 'I'm just going to go brush my teeth...'
'Notice how I didn't play any loud Muggle music!' she called after him. 'And it wasn't because it wasn't tempting. This place has a CD-player and heavy rock albums... You'd have loved that.'
Hermione had to wait until he was done brushing his teeth, before he came back out and said, 'That does show uncharacteristic restraint. Why is that?'
She turned up her nose at him. 'I'm getting along!'
He walked over and patronisingly patted her head, saying, 'Very good!'
She smacked away his hand. 'That is not getting along!'
'Wanting credit for not doing something bad isn't exactly top notch either, Granger,' he said, before walking over and carefully lying down on the sofa again. 'If you haven't been to the grocer's yet, could you perhaps get some food from town? I'm neither in the mood to cook nor to eat your cooking, but anything hot and greasy will do.'
Hermione hesitated. She actually hadn't been sure whether she wanted to go, after all. It was one thing to go and get information the fun way when everything was normal, but to have Malfoy knowing about it and judging her in that way that wizards did best... it just turned her off the whole idea. Still, not going would send him the message that she was ashamed of her behaviour. She wasn't. She just didn't like being called names. Who was he to judge her anyway?
'I just need to get changed first,' she muttered and got up.
* * *
Draco closed his eyes. Ugh, his head! Getting drunk always seemed like such a good idea, and then the hangover arrived. Fortunately, he wasn't very prone to vomiting, but that didn't stop the world from spinning and his stomach from heaving.
Hermione was taking her sweet time getting ready to go down to the village-either that or she was just trying to annoy Draco by being slow. That wasn't going to work today. Once she was out of the cabin, he planned on sleeping some more and then, hopefully, when he woke up, she would have food for him. Food that she hadn't actually cooked. Hermione's cooking was something that nobody willingly suffered through more than once or twice. She always seemed to honestly try, but it just turned out awful every single time.
He heard her coming back into the room. 'What do you think?' she asked.
Draco slowly opened his eyes again and then spent some time debating what to say. 'A bit cold for that, isn't it?' was what he finally ended with. It was October last he checked, and that was generally not the time for short tartan skirts and low-cut tops. She even topped it off with pig-tails and a challenging look. He honestly didn't have anything else to add, though. At most, he wondered why she'd had that outfit packed, but he figured that was something he didn't want to know.
She seemed to realise that he wasn't going to make any comments and said, 'Ah, but I can't remember the last time I had a case in Scotland, and soon I'll be too old to wear this skirt-and don't you dare comment on that!' She scowled at him and he had a very hard time fighting a laugh. She noticed and scowled at him harder.
Giving up the fight, Draco grinned. Hermione had already had the dubious pleasure of celebrating her thirtieth birthday, and she wasn't above feeling self-conscious about it from time to time-something he wasn't above mocking her for. 'Don't worry, love,' he said slightly sarcastically, closing his eyes again. 'Nobody would ever accuse you of acting your age.' Ow, his head.
She ignored his comment. 'I don't know if they have curries down there, but I'll find something,' she said whilst-as far as he could tell from sound only-putting on a coat.
'That's fine,' he muttered.
'Do you need anything else?' she asked, not sounding particularly concerned, but, hey, at least she asked. That was an improvement. Usually she just made a lot of noise and offered him runny eggs when he'd had too much to drink. She claimed not to be obliged to pity him when it was his own bloody fault.
Of course, when she had been the one to over-indulge, she sang quite a different tune.
Ugh... runny eggs...
'Those little white pills they have?' he suggested. 'Unless, of course, you'll take mercy on me and let me have a potion.' He was feeling hopeful that she just might. One potion and he could be right as rain. Damn this stupid ban on using magic-and unfortunately potions too-whilst near Muggles.
'No potions,' she said. 'I'll see what pills they have for hangovers.'
And then she was gone. Blessed peace.
He fell asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Hermione half-ran the last bit up to the cabin and then hurriedly and very clumsily let herself in. Holy cauldron, it was cold outside. As soon as she opened the door, the warmth of the cabin hit her like a very big, very warm blanket.
A very dark one at that; not a single light was on, and dusk had long since arrived.
She quickly closed the door behind herself and turned on some lights so she could see. Ok, so maybe wearing a short skirt in autumn hadn't been her best idea ever, but she'd been annoyed and, besides, it had paid off.
She shuddered, put down the bag she'd brought, and began removing her coat, convinced that she would get warmer quicker without it. The coat was big, heavy, and soaked with the cold. As she finally got rid of it, she rubbed her arms, and looked down to see if her knees were blue. No... not quite.
'That you, Hermione?' came Draco's hoarse voice from the living area. 'You finally bring me some food?'
Way to be grateful! She took the food to him, and then went into the bedroom, wrapped the duvet around herself, and padded back into the living area. Warmth would come soon, she was sure.
Draco was investigating the contents of her bag with a sceptical look, but then carefully tried a bite of some chicken, before saying, 'I'm touched that you miss me so much that you plan on joining me in sleeping in here but, really, I was planning on moving back to the bedroom tonight.'
Hermione snorted. 'I just need to thaw. The wind around here is merciless! I swear, my bones are frozen!'
'Then your shop boy mustn't have been that good.' He again poked suspiciously at the food, before venturing another bite.
'It's not poisoned,' Hermione irritably said. 'And he was fine, but nothing would have kept me warm all the way back.'
'He couldn't have given you some kind of ride?' Draco asked, poking some more at the food, making Hermione develop a tic.
'If I'd asked for that, he would have expected an invite in,' Hermione dismissively said.
Draco looked up. 'Why? Didn't you already...?'
No. 'That is none of your business!'
'Huh,' he just said, taking another bite of his food.
Hermione fought very hard not to pick something up and throw it at his head. 'I learnt that a few weeks ago some bloke came to town and tried to sell some things he called heirlooms to the antique shop. The owner of the shop called Muggle police, but they had no record of anything with that description going missing, and so he bought them. I guess that was how we got flagged. I also learnt that the forest isn't a usual party spot because they believe there are wild animals up here. There's been sightings of what may be wild dogs.'
Draco was staring at her. 'Your method is effective.'
'Of course it is,' she snapped. 'I propose we find someone who knows something about tracking animals to see what animals there actually are up there.'
'Maybe you can find a tracker the same way you find information...'
Hermione stood. She'd been extremely nice to his sorry, hungover arse all day, even going out of her way to get him food and medicine, and this was the thanks she got? 'This conversation is over. I'm going to bed. I'd advise you to stay out here!'
Then she did a flounce, which would have been much more dignified if she hadn't still had the duvet tightly wrapped around herself.
* * *
Oops. Draco considered the possibility that maybe he'd crossed a line with that remark. But, really, since sex seemed to be her solution to everything else, why wouldn't he have made that remark?
'What about my pills?' he called after her.
The response he got was extremely colourful and made his eyes widen.
'I, um, will choose not to do that. Thanks all the same!' he replied.
Women.
At least he was feeling better now. He'd had some sleep and some food and... now he was sort of bored. He could probably sleep more, but he'd rather do so in the bed. The problem was that reclaiming the bed probably involved apologising, if not downright grovelling.
He didn't want to do that.
Get along.
Ugh. He supposed she had brought him food. And let him sleep. And got a lot of work done. All he'd done was lie about, nursing his hangover all day.
Sighing, he got up and went over to softly knock at the door.
Something smashed against it on the other side.
'Oi, don't wreck the place,' he said a little irritably.
'I'm not,' she smugly said from the other side. 'That was yours.'
Draco's mouth dropped open, and then he pushed the door open to see his picture frame lying shattered. 'Oh, very mature!' he scoffed, carefully getting the picture from the mess.
'I don't even know who that is,' Hermione said, 'or why you bring it everywhere.'
Draco looked down at his much younger smiling and winking self and the girl he was with. 'She was killed,' he simply said. 'Shortly after the war. They never knew who did it.' It had been his initial reason to become an Auror. Not that it had done an awful lot of good, but as far as motivations went, it had been a fairly strong one.
'Ah,' Hermione said, nodding. 'That explains a lot. Now, get out.'
Draco went over to his holdall, rummaged for a book, and then carefully placed the picture inside. 'You shouldn't be so careless with other people's possessions,' he coldly said. 'Especially when they're here to apologise.'
'You're not sorry. You just want to sleep in the bed.'
'Trust me, the bed is by far my biggest reason to apologise. I just happen to also realise that I went too far.'
'Was she your girlfriend?' Hermione asked.
'What?'
'Was she your girlfriend?' She motioned towards his holdall.
'I don't think that's any of your business.'
'Too late. You already stuck your nose in my business!'
They had a glaring contest. After a couple of minutes, Draco realised he wasn't going to win this one. 'Yes,' he bit out, without volunteering anything else.
'What happened?'
'One day she was gone.'
'Gone, disappeared, or gone, already dead?' Hermione was being very persistent.
He smiled wryly. 'As it turns out, both.'
'I'm sorry.'
'It's been a decade, Granger.' Really. You'd think she knew about losing people a decade ago.
'But you still keep her picture.'
'So? Don't you remember the people you lost?'
'Keeping a picture of your dead girlfriend with you sends a... signal.'
'I know. I've had enough fights over it to know how competitive witches can be with someone who's already gone.' He wasn't going to give it up for anyone, though. He'd promised not to forget her, to find her killer. He'd finally given up on finding who did it years later, realising it was consuming his life in a bad way and that he couldn't go on like that, but he could at least manage to remember her.
'Glorifying the dead and hanging onto them isn't healthy.'
'It's just a picture!' His aggravation with being put on the spot like this made him raise his voice.
'Obviously not,' she calmly responded, 'or you wouldn't carry it around like a security blanket.'
'I think we've discussed this enough!' He was not comfortable talking about Asteria with anyone under normal circumstances and this was just too much. 'I'm going to sleep in the bed tonight, and I'm not above throwing you out and locking the doors.'
Hermione snorted and then announced, 'I don't care!' and laid down, turning her back on him.
For a moment, Draco just gaped, but then he smacked his forehead.
Women.
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