Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I play with them as I like, but alas, they are not mine. Neither these characters nor this world in general belongs to me, or anyone not named J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: As always, let's take a moment to thank our talented and wonderful betas. My talented beta, of course, was VelvetMouse!

She couldn't tell if she should get up or not. It was technically morning, but it still looked mid-day, just as it had when she had gone to bed. She had apparently missed the hour of darkness in the night. Now she knew why the thick, dark curtains were hung; she would be sure to draw them closed tonight.

Swinging her legs off the side of the mattress, her feet touched the stone floor, causing her to recoil. Looking around, she noticed the fuzz of her slippers just peeking out from under the nightstand. She scrambled for them.

She had hoped with all she had that when she woke up she would be back at Grimmauld Place, probably catching Harry sneaking into her and Ginny's room in the night. It was not to be. The freezing stone told the sad tale.

Coffee was the only fix she needed; nothing could warm her up quicker. So, after donning a warm bathrobe (pink, clearly Mrs. Weasley wanted to remind her she was supposed to be a girl), she slowly made her way into the kitchen. Her muscles protested against the morning chill, begging for the warmth of her sheets once more.

Draco was already enjoying breakfast. She couldn't imagine him making it himself, but didn't see a house-elf in sight.

"Where did you get breakfast?" she asked, eyeing the sausage link still steaming.

He ignored her, definitely not a morning person.

Fed up, she made her way to the refrigerator. She passed the sink on the way, seeing the dishes dirty; clearly no house-elves were involved in this meal. She was at least pleased to see the fridge well-stocked.

Choosing cold cereal, fortunately with fresh milk, Hermione sat at the table opposite Draco, attempting the silent treatment as best she could.

'This can't seriously go on,' she thought, knowing very well that it could. Breaking, after an astonishing minute and a half, she said, "Do we have any plans for being here, or are we just hanging around, waiting?"

He gave her a long suffering look, as if that was the absolute dumbest question ever asked. Then, finally, he said, "Did they not speak with you at all? Can you seriously say you don't know why you're here?"

"Well, obviously they spoke to me. I didn't look surprised to be leaving the country with you, did I?" She had to bite her tongue not to say anymore, but then continued more calmly saying, "Look, I don't want to be here, either. But aside from telling me I was coming here with you, under false reasons, they didn't tell me what to do with my time."

"Do what you always do, Granger: eat, sleep, read. There's a library at the end of the hallway. Clearly, Dumbledore didn't want you bored." With that, he went back to his breakfast, apparently hoping she would be gone soon.

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She had left Malfoy well enough alone after that. As if the prospect of a library wasn't enough to get her moving, getting away from a sour Malfoy certainly was.

The library wasn't anywhere near Hogwarts' standards, but it would fill her time. She looked around at the high shelves, mentally trying to figure out if she could read them all in the next few months.

A quick look around told her there was sufficient variety amongst the shelves, with a heavy emphasis on Defense Against the Dark Arts and Healing. That was practical, of course; this was still war.

Settling down under the lone window with her selection, she was instantly lost to the pages.

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The initial sound didn't register with Hermione, nor did the second or third. By the time she was aware of the intruder, he was already behind her. She whipped around, wand drawn, only to see Malfoy choosing his own book from the shelves.

"Jumpy, Granger?" he asked, smirk firmly in place.

Without a single word, she sheathed her wand back up her sleeve. She still looked wary, but her heart was beginning to calm down. She settled down again, retrieving her book from the floor.

She noticed Draco sitting in the other chair in the room. With a sidelong glance at him, she could just make out the title of the book he was reading: Wandless Magic: More than just Tall Tales. 'What's he wanting to learn wandless magic for?' Hermione thought, trying to find the page she was on before.

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The rest of the morning was spent in silence, both of them reading their respective books. Hermione was pleased with this. With Harry or Ron, they were always trying to get her to go out and watch them play Quidditch or playing a very animated game of Exploding Snap right next to her. It was always annoying. But Draco seemed content just reading. With no terse remarks flying from his lips, she could actually imagine that a pleasant person was sitting there.

She felt and heard her stomach rumbling. Looking around to see if Draco had heard it too, she saw that he was gone. He had left the book he was reading on the cushion of the chair on his way out, apparently intending to return to it soon.

She assumed he had gone to the kitchen to eat lunch, and not wanting another episode with him, she decided to wait for him to return before she too ate.

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She couldn't wait any longer. She had just about finished her book and was decidedly beyond hungry. She was to the point that she was checking the door more often than reading her book.

Putting a bookmark in place, Hermione left the cozy library in search of food. But when she reached the kitchen, it was empty. She hadn't passed Draco on her way there, so assumed he must be in the living room or his bedroom. The bathroom door had been open when she passed, and she definitely hadn't seen him in it.

Making herself a cucumber sandwich a few minutes later, had Hermione thinking of her mother. Her mother always took afternoon tea; cucumber sandwiches were her favourite accompaniment to that tea. Hermione never actually took tea herself when she wasn't home, but still enjoyed cucumber sandwiches as a reminder. She suddenly missed her family.

She was glad they were safe, and that they would enjoy their 'vacation,' but still wished she could at least go and visit them. They also had Crookshanks with them, since traveling was never easy with a pet cat. She missed him as well. She thought of the way he used to curl up in her lap as she read and decided to get back into the library to finish her book.

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Hermione detoured through the living room on her way, still not seeing Draco. The bathroom door was still open, and he wasn't there, either. Finally making it to the library, she opened the door. Not seeing the blonde head sticking above the chair's back, she went back down the hall to the bedrooms.

His door was directly across from hers and was the only door not open. Knocking, she called, "Malfoy, are you in there?"

She normally wouldn't bother him, but she didn't want him to be alone up here if he was sick. He was probably just sulking, though.

He didn't answer, and after her third attempt at knocking, she tried the door knob. It was locked, but a simple Alohomora worked wonders.

His bedroom looked very much like hers. A simple double bed sat in the middle; he had actually made his this morning. There were two nightstands flanking the bed, and a wardrobe in the corner. A small writing desk was on the wall opposite the lone window. And also like hers, it was empty.

She couldn't imagine him leaving the cottage without telling her, but he definitely wasn't in the house. She walked to the front door to see if maybe he was simply sitting on the porch.

It was chilly when she stepped outside, and she almost turned back around to grab a jacket, but spotted Draco first. He was sitting on a bench a few meters from the house; his back was facing away from her. She closed the door behind her, but didn't move, afraid to approach him, knowing he probably didn't want her company.

When she couldn't take it any longer, she pushed off from the door, walking slowly, quietly. Her feet crunched on the ground lightly, but it still didn't seem to disturb him. He hadn't moved since she first saw him.

"Draco?" she called, using his first name for reasons unknown to her. It seemed more intimate this way, too intimate.

He started slightly at the sound of her voice, but didn't move beyond a simple jerk. He also didn't look at her.

She was confused; normally that would have at least gotten one snide comment, maybe even a 'What, Mudblood?' But now, nothing.

She sat down as far away from him as possible; she wanted to help him, not incur his wrath. He didn't even seem to notice. He was just looking off, clearly not seeing anything around him.

"You can talk to me if you want. I have no one up here to tell anyway," she said. She didn't know if she really wanted to help the ferret, but he seemed so small right now.

He looked at her for a long moment. It was the first time he had looked at her at all. He seemed to register her presence, but still looked lost.

She saw the first spark of life, and it was quickly followed by a much colder look.

"Look, Granger, this 'save the world' bit doesn't work with house-elves, and it won't work with me. I don't need a keeper, nor do I want one." With that, he got up, strode swiftly into the cottage and slammed the door in his wake.

She sat there for a very long time, looking out the same way he had. She didn't know what to do and was really confused that she wanted to do anything at all.