The Fallout by EveryThursday (reposted)

Twenty-Three

Day: 1445; Hour: 16

Harold leaves at dusk, his cheeks stained with Lavender's kisses and a note to Harry crinkling in his palm.

Day: 1446; Hour: 8

"Did you ask him to come back?" Draco asks this like it's painful letting curiosity rule his tongue.

"Harold?"

"Yes, the one who obviously knows he is to come back." Dry sarcasm -- it's possibly his favorite.

Hermione has to think about it for a moment because she's eating a croissant that could never taste like her gran's, but still reminds her of the woman anyway. And home, and spring mornings, and the smell of baking that lingered in the kitchen even after they had all went to bed.

"I told Harry what we were doing. I told him I didn't ask because I wanted him to heal properly."

"An apology letter--"

"No. I didn't say I was sorry."

Draco pauses in chewing, but doesn't take his eyes off the television. She knows he's not paying attention to what's on the screen anyway--he doesn't understand cartoons, and he has been staring at the yellow sponge on the screen with an incredulous look for the past five minutes.

"Would you care?" Because her tongue has always been ruled by curiosity.

"It's not of my concern if you feel the need to apologize to Potter."

"I meant if I had asked him to come back with Harold."

His jaw clenches, and he looks down to place his toast on the side table, no longer hungry from the apple that preceded it or from their conversation. "It's your mission, Granger."

He is being careful with the conversation and Hermione finds it odd, and annoying because he never is, not with her. He looks annoyed, probably with himself for bringing it up, and Hermione realizes that he's probably quite done arguing about Harry with her.

"I just didn't know how badly you might hate him."

"I don't hate Potter. I simply don't care about him or anything he does."

"He thinks you hate him."

And this is really the only reason she kept going. She has been trying to find a way to bring up Lucius, and how Draco felt about the whole thing without being obvious that she wanted to pry into his feelings. It was just that she thinks he might need her to talk about something like that, and she knows he would never bring it up on his own. She doesn't know if she can be the sort of person that can listen to anything about Lucius Malfoy from a son who might have loved him, but she would like to try... for him.

Draco can see through her though, like he always does, but she only has herself to blame for letting him know her so well. He gives her that warning look, his face pulled tight, lips thinned, his jaw clenching. It had taken her several harsh, long blown-out fights before she recognized the look for what it was. She used to just take the intensity in his eyes as meaning she had his full attention. She learned quickly enough.

She lets the silence weigh them down, even after he turns his attention back to the tv. They are both dressed in robes, as well as Lavender and Justin who had retired to their room a floor above them. Justin had found it hilarious as they all lounged about the room eating strawberries for breakfast and waiting for the hotel laundry service to be finished with their clothes. Lavender found it more hilarious when Justin remembered the small bag of Portkeys he had left in his pocket and went flying downstairs and through the hotel lobby dressed in only his robe, yelling after the maid to give him back his pants.