The Wolf and the Sheep
The days went by fairly quickly, at least for Harry, who simply spent what was left of his vacation lazing around or enjoying pleasant outings with Fleur. Outings that both of them stubbornly refused to admit were dates until the other admitted it first.
Because that would mean admitting they had fallen for each other.
And, of course, both of them were far too proud to admit that, even though it was obvious to anyone with eyes, and the older members of the family seemed thoroughly entertained by it. They had even picked up Selene's habit of keeping popcorn ready whenever the show started.
For Hermione, on the other hand, the days seemed to crawl by more and more slowly as she went to Harry's or Daphne's house almost every day, trying to distract herself from the fact that the disciplinary hearing was getting closer and closer.
It wasn't until Daphne could no longer stand Hermione asking the exact same questions over and over again.
"What if they rule against us?"
"What if they expel us and snap my wand in half?"
"What if they send me to prison?"
It was a question that always seemed to appear during her weakest moments.
One that, naturally, was terrifying.
It wasn't that she distrusted the adults.
It was fear of the possibility itself.
Like Murphy's Law.
Whenever those thoughts crossed her mind, Hermione would get up from the sofa—or wherever she happened to be sitting—and start pacing back and forth in front of Daphne while describing just how horrible and brutal life in Azkaban would be if that ended up being their punishment.
Eventually, Daphne couldn't take it anymore and dragged Hermione all the way to Malfoy Manor before practically throwing her in front of Draco.
That way, the two friends could think about all those dark things...
Or anything else...
Together.
And stop bothering everyone else.
Of course, it wasn't that Daphne was being cold.
It was simply that she knew Hermione was tormenting herself with impossible scenarios that would never happen, because their families would never allow it, even if they had to destroy the Ministry of Magic to stop it—which, as Harry had said, they could do without much trouble.
So actually trying to punish Draco and Hermione would probably be the very last thing the Ministry would dare to do.
That was the level of confidence she had.
Hermione blinked a couple of times after Daphne shoved her through the fireplace at Greengrass Manor, only to end up in yet another family estate.
Malfoy Manor.
The drawing room was spacious and elegant, illuminated by the sunlight pouring through tall windows. Leather and velvet sofas were arranged around a massive marble fireplace, while bookshelves packed with books and ancient magical artifacts decorated the walls alongside portraits of the Malfoy ancestors.
Everything was impeccably arranged, giving off an air of luxury, tradition... and a certain intimidating presence.
Draco was seated in one of the leather armchairs, quietly reading a book. He was dressed comfortably—a black shirt and a pair of relaxed dress trousers—with one leg crossed over the other. Beside him stood a small tea table holding a steaming cup and several pastries.
He looked up at Hermione, who was still standing there with the confused expression of someone who had just been launched into the manor by Daphne.
The portraits surrounding the room, all belonging to past members of the Malfoy family, frowned the instant they saw Hermione.
But all it took was one flat look from Draco.
Immediately, they all went back to looking like nothing more than decorative paintings.
Or they could risk saying something...
And end up as garbage.
Just like the portrait that had once hung above the main fireplace mantel, which now sat completely empty. Years ago it had displayed the great Abraxas Malfoy, the former patriarch, who had dared to insult the friends of the Malfoy heir.
"It's unusual for you to come here," Draco said calmly as he looked at Hermione.
After all, he could understand why she avoided this house, where even the walls seemed to despise anyone who wasn't pure-blood.
Unfortunately, it wasn't as though Draco could simply tear the entire manor down and build it again. Too many enchantments and ancient magical protections prevented something like that.
Just like Potter Manor.
Though not quite to the same ridiculous extent.
Otherwise, he would have renovated it a long time ago.
Just like Hogwarts.
"Ah... well... Daphne..." Hermione said awkwardly, since she had shown up at Draco's house without any warning, which was rather rude.
Draco didn't need to hear anything else to understand.
After all, he had known both of them for so long that piecing together what had happened was easy.
So he simply let out a faint amused smile.
"Something sweet?" Draco asked calmly, gesturing toward the tea table, where several colorful macarons, cream-filled muffins, and even little pastries were neatly arranged.
Hermione, who was still a little flustered and embarrassed, couldn't help glancing at the snacks.
They looked incredibly tempting.
Then she looked back at Draco.
"I thought you didn't like sweets," she said.
"I don't. But knowing you, and knowing you can't go bother Harry because he's far too busy trying not to look hopelessly in love with his veela, that only leaves Daphne. Or maybe Astoria and Luna. Which would eventually lead to one of them throwing you over here," Draco said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, completely unaware that he had just predicted the future with frightening accuracy.
Hermione didn't say much in response.
After all, she was already used to things like this.
There was a reason Draco and Harry were best friends.
Both of them could be absurdly intelligent when it came to reading people's actions, almost as if they could actually read minds.
...Or maybe she was simply too predictable.
Without even realizing it, those thoughts were slowly pulling Hermione away from the fears that had been tormenting her these past few days.
She walked over and sat down on one of the nearby sofas with practiced familiarity.
After all, it wasn't as though she had never spent time alone with Draco before without Harry or Daphne around.
"Ahem... where's Aunt Narcissa?" she asked, trying to shake off the faint discomfort lingering in her chest.
"Busy. She should be back later," Draco answered calmly.
But somehow, that calmness only made the uncomfortable feeling in Hermione's chest grow a little stronger.
"So... we're alone?" she asked, trying to sound composed, though her voice cracked slightly.
"Dobby is here," a squeaky voice suddenly said right beside Hermione as he held out a cup of tea.
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Dobby's voice, though it also snapped her out of her nervousness.
"Dobby, don't do that," she said, placing a hand over her chest.
The house-elf looked at her in confusion.
Draco, meanwhile, couldn't help smiling, hiding part of it behind the fist resting lightly against his lips.
"W-what are you laughing at?" she complained, looking at Draco.
But for a moment, as she looked at him, she fell silent.
Watching that smile...
With those comfortable clothes that somehow made him look even more attractive than usual, simply because it was so rare to see him wearing anything other than elegant robes or perfectly tailored clothes.
Even his hair, normally immaculate, was slightly messy, and golden streaks seemed to shimmer every time he moved.
Perhaps they were a result of his unique magic.
Draco's gray eyes met Hermione's, still carrying that faintly amused look.
Hermione couldn't help looking away almost immediately.
"You should relax a little more. It's not like this is the first time we've been alone together," Draco said calmly. "Or... do you feel uncomfortable for some reason?" he asked naturally, resting his chin on his fist with a gentle smile.
Plenty of women, young and old alike, would melt seeing him like that.
Unfortunately for them, he usually only showed expressions like those to his family and friends.
"What? Of course not. Why would I feel uncomfortable? You're just Draco Malfoy," Hermione replied, lifting her chin and trying to sound more confident.
Though the faint blush on her face betrayed her just a little.
"Then you can wait here and read whichever books you want. It's not the Potter library, but there should still be a few interesting things," Draco said calmly, not offended in the slightest by her words, as he gestured toward the bookshelves behind him.
"That's exactly what I'll do," Hermione declared, acting strangely confident and proud for some reason.
Which only made Draco smile a little wider.
Completely unaware that Hermione's thoughts were becoming rather interesting.
He's not supposed to smile like that all the time. Doesn't he realize?... Idiot.
Those were Hermione's thoughts.
She had already started thinking some time ago that Draco was dangerous.
Almost on Harry's level.
...Or maybe even more dangerous.
Because Draco acted like this completely naturally.
Or...
Did he actually realize what he was doing and merely pretend to be a harmless sheep...
When, in reality, he was a fierce wolf?
Hermione quickly shook that silly thought out of her head before grabbing a random book and settling down to read, spending the afternoon quietly enjoying tea and sweets inside Malfoy Manor.