Accidental Affection

22 - An Unusual Flashback

It's early morning when Draco swings his legs over the side of the bed. He had fallen asleep after Hermione had gotten him something to eat the day before and had just woken up.  He felt restless and needed to get up to do something, telling himself if he laid in bed a moment longer, he'd surely lose his mind.

He glanced over at a sleeping Hermione curled up uncomfortably on the oversized chair in the corner.  Grabbing a throw from the foot of the bed, his bare feet padded softly across the wooden floor, draping the soft material across Hermione. He gazed a moment into her sleeping face, fighting the urge to bend over and kiss her head, instead he reached down, pulling a curl that had fallen over the bridge of her nose, pushing it back.

Grabbing his socks and shoes, he pulled them on in a hurry, not bothering to take the time to tie his shoes, instead, he had shoved the laces inside, before making his way down, cringing at the protesting squeals the floorboards made with every step. In the dead quietness, they seemed amplified and was sure it would awaken everyone within a mile radius.

Stepping out into the cool morning air, the sky tinged pink as the sun peeked out, sending a crown of orange rays into the midnight blue void. Dew that painted the foliage now clung tightly to his untied shoes. Draco closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of the freshness. He had never felt his free, this peaceful. He wanted nothing more than to take off his shoes and run barefoot through the grass, maybe even jump into the small pond. He chuckled at himself, at the silliness of these thoughts.

Instead, he opted for a slow stroll, stuffing his hands into his pockets and his pace set on saunter, he set out to explore the burrow's surroundings. Making it to the top of a hill nearby he sits upon a fallen tree, lavishly decorated with oyster mushrooms, looking down at the burrow, as the sun rose beyond it, casting a pastel glowing halo around it.

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Hermione groaned as her arms stretched upward before opening her eyes. She had expected to see Draco, his usual smug expression plastered upon his face, instead, she found the bed empty. Pulling the blanket off her body she draped it across the chair before standing at the window. Her eyes adjust to the brightness that streamed in, warming her slightly. A smile tugs at her lips as her eyes fall upon Draco, sitting upon the hill. She watched as he stood, stretching, before making his way down the hill.

Sounds begin to flutter about the burrow as it comes alive as the Weasley's wake up and begin their morning routine. With a quick glance back out the window, she makes her way down to greet everyone.

~~~~~ * ~~~~~ * ~~~~~ * ~~~~~ * ~~~~~~

As Draco nears the burrow, the sound of chatter begins to fill the air. A smile plays on his lips as his ears pick up the distinct sound of Hermione's chipper "Good morning" greetings. He felt it would be odd to just barge into the burrow, after all, he didn't feel he belonged there, so instead he found himself nearing the pond, glancing down at the shimmering white sparkling reflection of the sun upon the soft bluish-green waves.

"Oi! Malfoy!"

Draco turns at the sound of his name. Groaning at the sight of the redhead now jogging toward him, no doubt to threaten his life and to remind him that he was lower than the scum that floated on the top of the pond. Draco took a deep breath, trying to remind himself to keep a level head.

Ron stops, awkwardly in front of Draco, rubbing the back of his neck. Draco stands, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Look, Harry told me what Hermione had explained about what happened beings I, you know, stormed off. I just wanted..." he squirmed slightly. Although Draco kept his face neutral, he was fully enjoying watching Weasley squirm. "Just wanted to tell you... thanks, I guess. I didn't believe you at first, but now, I can see you've changed."

Draco was thrown back at the sincerity in Ron's voice. "It's something I should have done earlier." He replied simply.

"Better late than never." Ron turned back toward the house, Draco turned as well, once again facing the pond. "OH!" Ron spun back around, "If you hurt her, I'll personally hurt you."

"What?"

"You heard me. She's a good woman, Hermione. She deserves the best."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Draco understood completely, however he distorted his face trying to look confused.

"I think you do," Ron insisted. "I've seen the way you've looked at her since the first night you were here. I've also seen the way she looks at you. Hurt her and I'll find you."

Draco gives a short nod, turning quickly. Were his feelings for Hermione that obvious, he mentally kicked himself? How ignorant can he be? His stroll came to a sudden stop, shooting a glance back at Weasley who was now entering the burrow. Had he just said he has seen the way Hermione looks at him? Or maybe it was just his imagination. No. He was sure Weasley had said that he spun back around, a smile upon his lips and a spring to his step, a new sensation fluttered in his chest. He felt giddy and childish, but he didn't care.

Draco lost in his own thoughts began to wander around the pond his eyes gazing downward, watching his feet sink gently into the soft mud before something caught his eye. 

A small moss-covered stone, nothing extravagant, but it was the shape of the stone that demanded his attention. Stooping over, he plucked the cube-shaped stone from the ground, no bigger than an inch and a half on each side. He twirled it between his fingers before it came to a rest in the palm of his hand. The green was a deep rich shade, like that of the color theme of the manor.

Tossing it up, it fell effortlessly into his hand once again, causing a vivid flashback, one so intense that he almost stumbled backward at the memory of it. Was this what they were waiting for? Was this little tidbit of memory that he had just pushed back in the back of his mind a very useful and valuable piece of information?

Gripping the stone tightly in the palm of his hand, feeling the corners dig slightly into his flesh at the pressure of his grip, but he didn't care, instead, he spun, racing back to the burrow, his feet pounding with the same beat of his heart.