Chapter 5
The next morning, Draco woke up in sheer panic, his lungs burning as if he were being suffocated. Something warm and heavy was pressing against his face, smothering him. He jolted, gasping for air—only to choke on what could only be described as fur.
Spluttering, he frantically wiped at his mouth, his vision still blurry from sleep. And that was when he saw it.
An ugly, menacing beast sprawled in his chest, staring at him with utter disdain.
Before he could even process the horror of his predicament, the creature—apparently offended by his sudden movement—let out a furious hiss and punched him in the face with its filthy claws.
Draco made a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and an undignified squawk. Fantastic . Very charming.
“Good, you’re awake,” came a voice from another room.
Draco groaned, still trying to expel the remnants of cat fur from his mouth. Just as he managed to sit up, Granger strode into the room. And to his abysmal misfortune, she was already dressed for the day. Properly dressed. Not a single button out of place or hair askew—completely ruining his fantasies of a lazy morning spent tangled in sheets and limbs. No languid good morning shag, no pulling her back into bed for another round. Just the cold, harsh reality of daylight and an overly aggressive feline.
His luck had well and truly run out.
“I can’t say I woke up by my own choice—some beast tried to smother me while I was asleep,” He grumbled, rubbing his face, still annoyed he’d inhaled a hairball.
“Hey!” Granger shot back, lowering her voice to a scandalised whisper, as if the beast might understand and take offence. “Crooks is not a beast! He has very delicate feelings, I’ll have you know. And, more importantly, he’s an excellent judge of character. I always consider his opinion when inviting someone into my home.”
He stared at her, incredulous. “That —” he pointed accusingly at the hellspawn, who was currently perched on a chair, looking smug as sin, “—is your character judge? You’re trusting your love life to a glorified, overweight dust mop with a vendetta?”
Crookshanks, as if sensing the insult, flicked his tail and turned his back on Draco.
Granger crossed her arms, tilting her head with a knowing smirk. “Don’t be ridiculous. Not my love life—just who I deem worthy of a second shag. And he’s never wrong.”
Draco scowled, raking a hand through his hair. “Right. Brilliant. I’ll be sure to bring him a bribe next time,” he muttered. “Maybe a whole bloody roast chicken. Or a small sacrifice.”
Granger cleared her throat. “I don’t want to be rude, but I really need to go,” she said sheepishly, already glancing at the clock. “I have to be in Cambridge in the next five minutes.”
“Cambridge?" He asked.
She didn’t elaborate and grabbed her bag. “Make yourself at home—there’s instant coffee in the upper left cabinet, milk in the fridge. Oh, and feel free to use the shower if you like!”
Draco scoffed. “Instant coffee? Salazar, Granger, what kind of barbarian do you take me for?”
She rolled her eyes, already halfway out the room.
“Wait! Granger!” Draco called, scrambling out of bed as she rushed towards the Floo. “When am I going to see you again?”
“I’ll text you later!” she said over her shoulder, clearly in a hurry.
“Text me? What in Merlin’s name is that?”
She sighed, barely pausing to glance at him before checking her watch again. “I’ll owl you! Now, I really need to go—see you, bye!!”
And with a whoosh of green flames, she was gone, leaving Draco standing in the middle of her flat, utterly baffled and, to his great irritation, with no idea when he was going to see Granger again.
The moment he turned around to make his way to the kitchen, the ugly beast was there again, perched on the arm of the sofa like a gargoyle of doom. Draco swore it narrowed its eyes at him, its face set in a look of pure judgment, as if personally offended by his entire existence.
He glared back. “Listen here, you beast, I really like her, so you’ll just have to deal with me.”
Crookshanks let out a slow, unimpressed blink before, with the utmost disdain, turning around and presenting Draco with his rear.
"Oh, real mature,” he muttered.
Crookshanks didn’t so much as flick an ear in response, leaving Draco standing there, scowling at the cat’s retreating fluff.
Brilliant. He’d barely made it out of the bed, and he was already locked in a silent war with Granger’s bloody cat. This cat was going to be a problem.
Deciding against further interactions with the beast—and absolutely unwilling to subject himself to the barbarism of instant coffee—Draco got dressed, smoothing out his suit with practiced precision. He made Granger’s bed, a small act of order in the chaos of his morning, and then hesitated. Should he leave a note?
Instead, with a flick of his wand, he conjured a Narcissus—his favourite flower. Not just because of his mother, but also for what it symbolised: new beginnings and hope. It felt like a quiet, meaningful gesture.
I really like you, Granger.
He traced the words with his wand, embedding them delicately into one of the petals before setting the flower on her pillow.
Satisfied, he took one last glance around the flat, then turned on his heel and stepped into the Floo. Draco arrived at the Manor shrugging off his coat as he made his way to the Tea room.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” he said dryly, eyeing Theo, who was already halfway through a plate of full English breakfast, looking far too smug for this early in the morning.
Theo leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Ohhh ho ho! Imagine my delight when I arrived and Tippy informed me that you hadn’t been home all night.” He waggled his eyebrows. “So… did you get lucky? Did it work? Come on, mate, don’t leave me hanging—I need all the details.”
Draco poured himself a cup of coffee, deliberately taking his time before replying. “Define lucky ,” he said coolly, taking a sip.
Pointing his fork at Draco like he was conducting a criminal interrogation. “Alright, spill. How far did you get? A little heated snogging? Or did you—”
Draco calmly took another sip of his coffee, cutting him off with a sharp look. “That’s for me to know, and you to stay endlessly frustrated over.”
“You absolute tosser, you can’t dangle something this monumental in front of me and expect me not to pry! This is Granger we’re talking about. The Hermione Granger. The witch you’ve been sneaking glances at for years. The witch you used to pretend to hate but secretly wanted to—”
Draco slammed his coffee cup down a little too forcefully, sending a small ripple through the surface of the dark liquid.
Sensing victory, Theo grinned. “Oh, this is brilliant. You’re smitten, aren’t you? Merlin, I never thought I’d live to see the day. You, Draco Malfoy, completely and utterly fucked—”
Draco rolled his eyes, settling into his seat at the table and grabbing a plate of toast and eggs.
“I knew that potion would work. You just needed a little push.” Theo cackled. “When are you going to see her again?”
Remembering how Granger had casually mentioned that she’d owl him, Draco froze. He didn’t want to seem clingy—waiting for her to make contact was the perfectly reasonable thing to do. Surely, she wouldn’t take too long… right?
“She was in a rush this morning, she said she’s going to owl me.”
“Oh no. Shit!” Theo huffed, slumping back in his chair. “That was exactly what Luna said to me—and she’s still ghosting me! Fuck! That witch is driving me insane. I couldn’t even get a bloody word in at Pansy’s housewarming party!”
Draco recalled his conversation with Lovegood, but something told him it was best not to interfere. If Luna believed Theo needed time, there was probably some bizarre, unfathomable reasoning behind it. And honestly? He wasn’t about to question Lovegood’s methods. So, with great restraint, he decided against telling Theo about their chat.
His friend, on the other hand, continued his rambling. “I don’t understand! The shag we had was amazing—spectacular, even. I thought we had great chemistry! She came four times in less than an hour! That’s good, right?”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting having this conversation with Theo. “Merlin’s bloody beard, Theo, do you ever filter what comes out of your mouth?”
Gesturing dramatically with his fork, Theo ignored him entirely. “I mean, four times. Less than an hour! That’s not just good, that’s record-breaking! And yet—poof! Gone! Like a bloody Niffler with my dignity.”
Unimpressed, Draco took a slow sip of his coffee. “Maybe she just wasn’t as impressed with your… performance as you were.”
Clutching his chest as if he had been personally wounded, Theo gasped. “How dare you! I am a generous lover!”
“Clearly not generous enough, if she’s vanished into thin air.” Draco rolled his eyes.
Slumping further in his chair. “I need answers. I need closure.” Theo sighed.
“What you need, mate, is to stop sounding like a tragic love ballad and accept that Lovegood operates on a plane of existence none of us can comprehend.”
He let out an exaggerated groan. “Oh, piss off, Draco. Go on, mock me, but let’s not forget— you don’t even know when Granger is going to owl you.”
“It’s fine,” Draco said, feigning nonchalance as he casually picked at his toast. “She’s going to owl soon, I’m sure of it.”
“Uh-huh. And if she doesn’t?” Theo raised an eyebrow.
Masking the flicker of doubt creeping in, Draco took another sip of his coffee. “She will.” At least, he bloody hoped so.
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Theo grunted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with witches these days! All they want is a shag and no strings attached! Fuck, I never thought I’d be the one getting ghosted! Excuse me , but I am always the one doing the ghosting, thank you very much!”
He huffed dramatically, stabbing a piece of sausage with unnecessary aggression while Draco smirked over the rim of his coffee cup.
“If you’re so bothered by it, why don’t you just use the Felix Felicis potion? Maybe you’ll have some luck with Lovegood,” Draco drawled.
Waving a dismissive hand, Theo scoffed. “Oh, please. That’s absolute nonsense. I’m not that desperate.”
Draco arched a sceptical eyebrow. “Aren’t you, though?”
“Now, now, enough about me,” Theo said. “Let’s focus on you and Granger. You need to see her soon—otherwise, she’ll get buried under that ridiculous workload of hers and forget all about you.”
"What do you consider soon?” He asked, masking his concern.
Clearly enjoying this far too much, Theo smirked. “Oh, I don’t know… If it were any other witch, I’d say tomorrow. But it’s Granger , so definitely no more than a week—before she convinces herself she was just curious and buries the whole thing under a mountain of paperwork.” He leaned forward, wagging a finger at Draco. “You, my friend, need to strike while the iron’s hot.”
Surely a week was manageable—she’d probably owl him before then. And with Pansy and Potter constantly hosting soirées at their new home, he’d have plenty of opportunities to see her again soon.
Yes, that was it. Draco just needed to wait. He’d probably see her in less than a week—he was sure of it.
****
Draco was wrong—so, so wrong. A full week had passed, and there had been no word from Granger. Not an owl, not a note— nothing . He had even made a few casual detours past her floor at the Ministry, but fate—or Granger’s ridiculous work ethic—had conspired against him. Not a single glimpse of her.
Now, he was on his way to Pansy and Potter’s place once again, hoping— expecting —to see her there. And if that meant being extra meticulous with his hair routine tonight, well… just to make sure he would seduce the witch.
He stepped gracefully out of Pansy’s Floo, only to be met with Potter’s infuriatingly smug grin. Without missing a beat, Potter steered him toward the living room and pressed a tumbler of firewhisky into his hand.
“Malfoy! I see you’ve outdone yourself tonight—your hair’s practically glowing. Tell me, how many painstaking hours did you spend perfecting that shine?” Potter teased, arms crossed, eyes twinkling with far too much amusement.
Bushing off imaginary dust from his coat, Draco deadpanned. “Jealous, Potter? Not everyone is blessed with hair as immaculate as mine, but lucky for you, Pansy seems to love you despite that tragic mop on your head.”
Potter snorted. “Ah, so that’s a yes. Took you what, two? Three hours?”
Before he could dignify Potter with an answer, Pansy snarled, “You’re fucking late.”
“What happened to dear Draco or darling? You’re being nastier than usual, Pans,” Draco complained.
She let out a sigh. “I’m not in the mood, Draco. Kreacher and Cherry caught the flu on their honeymoon cruise, and now I’m the one stuck sorting everything out. Again.”
“If by sorting out, you mean casting a stasis spell on the outrageously overpriced, minuscule portions of food you insisted on ordering from that ridiculously expensive Muggle bistro you’re obsessed with,” Potter chuckled.
“Shut it, Potter,” Pansy said with a wicked smirk. “Unless you want to kiss goodbye to tonight’s thingy with the big thingy —and we both know how much you love the big thingy.”
Potter opened his mouth, then promptly shut it, his ears turning furiously red. He cleared his throat, visibly flustered. “Right. Noted. Carry on.”
Somewhere in the room, the Weasel let out a dramatic groan. “For fuck’s sake, you two! Every time I come here, I’m subjected to some horrifyingly graphic detail of your sex life! Can’t you keep it in your bloody bedroom?”
“Shush it, Ron,” Pansy smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not our fault you’re going through a dry spell. Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time wooing, you wouldn’t be so bitter.”
Thoroughly enjoying any opportunity to see the Weasel squirm, Draco smirked.
He let his gaze wander around the room, scanning the crowd with a practiced ease. He was looking for one particular witch—but she was nowhere to be seen. His smirk faltered slightly. Maybe she hadn’t arrived yet.
Pansy cleared her throat, “She’s not here darling.”
He snapped his head toward her, attempting to feign indifference. “I don’t know who you mean,” he said coolly, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves as if he had far more pressing concerns.
Pansy let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, come on, Draco. I can practically see your sad, lost-puppy face as you scan the room for Granger.” She smirked, tilting her head. “She’s not coming tonight.”
Fuck, she’s not coming tonight!
“Is she indisposed? Not that I was expecting her or anything. Or looking for her, obviously. Just… curious, that’s all.”
Pansy arched a brow, her smirk widening. “Oh, naturally, just a casual curiosity. No expectations whatsoever.” She drawled, rolling her eyes. “Relax, Draco. She’s off at some Muggle conference—probably drowning in stacks of research and debating the ethics of cauldron thickness. Riveting stuff, I’m sure.”
Draco scoffed. “Typical. Granger probably considers sleep an optional extracurricular.”
“Well, if you’re so concerned about her well-being—which, of course, you’re not—maybe you should do something about it.” Pansy leaned in slightly. “Or are you just going to keep brooding and hoping she miraculously appears?”
Suddenly, Theo appeared out of nowhere, grinning like the smug bastard he was. He gave Draco’s cheek two light slaps—a signature move of his whenever he was being particularly insufferable. “I’ve already told our lovesick fool here that time is ticking,” he announced dramatically. “He needs to make a move before Granger files him away under brief affair and moves on with her terribly important life.”
”I don’t see you faring any better, Theo,” Draco snarled, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh, Lovegood is making you work for it, isn’t she?” Pansy added, thoroughly amused.
Theo let out an exaggerated sigh, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Work for it? Pansy, darling, she’s got me running in circles, and questioning my own bloody existence. I’m half convinced she’s cast some kind of cosmic spell on me.”
Draco smirked. “Maybe she has. Would explain why you are the one acting like a lovesick fool.”
“Please, I am not lovesick. I am merely… intrigued. Deeply, maddeningly intrigued.” Theo scoffed.
Swirling her wine lazily, Pansy added: “Theo, darling, if anyone deserves to be ghosted at least once in their life, it’s you.”
“You are vicious, Pans”. Theo gasped in mock outrage.
Ignoring him, and turning to Draco, she added: “And you, my tragic little love-struck puppy, need to step up your game. I hate to break it to you, darling, but if you keep waiting for Granger to come to you, you’ll be waiting forever. She’s too busy solving the mysteries of the universe to realise you’re over here, batting your eyelashes and hoping she notices.”
Draco scowled. Again.
“Pansy’s right. You need to be proactive. Sweep her off her feet, Draco. Be bold.” Theo said.
Rubbing his temples, he sighed. “Right. What exactly do you suggest?”
Theo and Pansy exchanged a wicked look.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Pansy said sweetly. “We definitely have ideas.”