A Short Story Is A Love Affair

Hermione swung her legs through the window, landing with a louder bang than she would have liked. Malfoy was drinking a coffee and reading the Prophet at his table. He looked up and frowned.

“You know, you could use the door, like a normal person. Or the floo, even. You could apparate here. So many options that aren’t clambering up the fire escape like an overgrown cat.”

“Astoria checks all of those. You want our sordid affair being plastered across Witch Weekly?” She asked sarcastically, before blinking and taking the man in properly. “Are you wearing a tracksuit?” 

He looked down at himself before looking back at her. “I believe I am, yes.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of such a thing. Will it not bring you out in a rash?” 

“I’m wearing joggers on a Sunday in my own home, Granger, because I’m a real life person and not a caricature of an 18th century lord.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” She shot back. “Is your top hat at the cleaners?” 

He hid the ghost of a smile. “Did you actually want something or did you just happen to be passing and couldn’t resist shimmying up my drain pipe?” 

“How do you know when somebody’s having an affair?” She asked, plopping down in one of his heavy, oak chairs. 

“They obsessively check your floo to see if you had any other witches visit because they judge you by their own standards.” He replied immediately, folding the Prophet and tossing it further down the table. “You’ve got doubts about Wood?”

“He’s still going to training even though the season is over. Specifically makes sure I see his bag, forearm protector things hanging out of it, before he leaves for the ground.” 

“They’re called gauntlets.” Malfoy interjected. “He’s incredibly passionate about his job, you know that. It’s probably nothing. Quidditch was his first love, you were his second.” 

“I’m not completely convinced I am.” She replied. “Is that not odd, though? Why would he train so much in the off season? Are they not meant to rest?” 

“That is true. You can’t push yourself constantly, you’ll drive yourself into the ground. What about when he comes home afterwards? Does he look tired or does he look tired?” He asked. 

“You can’t tell if somebody’s had sex by looking at them, Malfoy.” 

“You can if they’ve been doing it properly.” He shot back with a grin. She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. 

“You think he’s shagging a teammate?” 

Malfoy shrugged. “I think he doesn’t know what to do with a woman that’s as intelligent as she is beautiful.”

“Was that compliment on purpose?” She asked, stealing his coffee and sipping it with a smirk. 

“You deserve better, Granger. We both know it.” He said simply. 

“I think we both might deserve better, actually.” She shot back. “Astoria doesn’t listen to half the things you say.” 

He hummed. “If only there was someone that did out there.” 

“If only.” She replied, holding his gaze.