Inside his room and away from her bloody concern, he slid down the door and dropped his face into his sweaty palms. This was definitely a new low; sympathised by her. And things had been different today, there had been a glitch in the routine that he and her had accidentally stumbled into. The walls dragged a little closer again.
He didn't even bother getting up to place a mark on the headboard. As far as he could tell, neither had won that argument.
He stayed in that defeated position for an hour or four, listening to Granger's movements and inhaling her unavoidable scent. He heard the main door close, presumably with her exit, and he shakily rose to his feet, suddenly aware of how lethargic his muscles were performing. He went back to the main area and something else filled the air.
Food. And it smelled bloody glorious.
He eyed the steaming pot of stew on the counter warily. She had blatantly left it for him and his pride was trying to quash the rumbles in his stomach. But Merlin, it smelled amazing, and the temptation was too strong.
There was enough for three people and he ate the whole thing. It was perfect.
And then he felt disorientated. There had been too many changes today and it had thrown him for seven. They hadn't screamed mindlessly at each other like they normally did, and then with the whole food thing...
She's screwing with your head.
And there was nothing left to count! Shit, shit, shit!
He needed to keep distracting himself or he would fall. His eyes shifted to her books and decided it was his only option. Hell, he'd eaten food that a Mudblood had prepared, how much more infected could he get if he read one of her books?
Selecting a simple-looking text on Potions that he had probably read before, Draco began to read.
.
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"Good, Miss Granger!" McGonagall praised, firing another hex towards the younger witch. "Keep up the shield!"
Hermione could feel the sweat breaking out on her forehead and slithering down her spine. The bicep of her wand arm was aching like torture, but she held her defensive position. This was definitely the longest she had ever held a shield charm and it was beginning to waver, much to her frustration.
Just a little more...
The headmistress shot out another spell, and it penetrated her protection. It scolded her arm and she smacked to the floor with a disappointed grunt. She took only a moment to catch her breath before she was jumping up to her feet. "Again," she panted, crouching back into position.
"That's enough for today," Minerva told her, lowering her wand. "It's getting late-
"It's a Saturday tomorrow," she disputed. "Come on, just one more-
"You must learn to quit while you're ahead, Miss Granger," the greying woman advised. "Anyway, I have some questions I would like to ask you."
"About what?"
"Mr Malfoy," she answered, as though it was obvious. "I thought you'd have a lot to say about him, but you haven't mentioned him once. Is everything okay? I had expected you to ask me to remove him by now."
"I think I'm handling it better than I thought I would," Hermione explained with a tired shrug. "I guess six years of putting up with his mouth has prepared me rather well."
"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me," the professor offered her a rare fond smile. "So he has behaved?"
Hermione couldn't stop her snort. "I think that's going a little far," she said. "But I barely see him between my studies and my training with you. We fight a lot, but it's nothing I haven't heard before and I can handle it."
The older woman considered her for a second. "And has the fighting ever tuned violent?"
"He's tried to grab me a few times," she remembered with narrowed eyes. "But I have my wand so I can deal with it."
"Good," the older witch nodded, extending a hand. "Pass me your wand, Miss Granger. I thought of a spell that might help. It's sort of a Muggle-repelling charm to burn the hand of anyone who tries to touch it."
"But Malfoy's not a Muggle?"
"I'm aware of that," McGonagall frowned as she performed the silent spell, and Hermione watched her wand glow green for a moment. "But he doesn't have his wand so it will work just as well. I'll have to renew the spell every nine or ten days."
"Thanks," she mumbled as her wand was returned to her.
"And what about Mr Malfoy's behaviour?" the headmistress continued. "Is he having any odd turns?"
Hermione's damp brow rippled with thought. "I...I don't really know," she mumbled finally. "As I said, I don't really-
"Well, I would like you to pay a little more attention to him from now on," the professor told her student with her familiar clinical voice.
The brunette blanched. "Why would I-
"That boy was imprisoned in a shack for the better part of five months," McGonagall explained slowly. "And now he has been forced to stay in your small room. Confinement can do damaging things to the mind, Miss Granger, and I imagine he has been rather...troubled as it is-
"Well, that's his own problem-
"I doubt dealing with an unstable Draco Malfoy will be beneficial for you," the witch stated wisely, gesturing for Hermione to follow her to the door. "And it might do you well to remember that he was forced into his mission when you are dealing with him."
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