A Lie For You, A Lie For Me.
folder
Harry Potter AU/AR › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,888
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter AU/AR › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,888
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or the characters, simply the idea in which the story revolves around!
Recovery's a Bitch.
The next morning, Hermione had nearly forgotten about her visitor. As she woke up, and wiped the sleep from her eyes, she could hear the television in the next room. Her eyebrows furrowed together, and she slipped out of bed, pulling her mess of hair into a messy pony tail. She was wearing a black silk nightgown, that barely came down to her knees. Hermione wasn't the girly type like Ginny, or Lavender, but she found she rather liked the way the silk felt, especially while she was trying to sleep. She slipped on a pair of slippers, and slipped out of her room to see the cause of the noise.
It all came rushing back to her like a tidal wave when she saw the blond there, sprawled out on the bed, with the remote in his hand. He was flipping through channels, he'd obviously figured out how to work the remote.
"What are you doing?" she asked him flatly, causing him to jump, with caused him to wince and drop the remote, and turn to glare at her. She folded her arms over her chest when she realized she wasn't wearing a bra, and she watched as his eyebrows shot up.
"I'm watching the picture box." he answered her, just as flatly. She couldn't help it, she laughed.
"Picture box? What are you, eighty years old?" she asked him, snickering.
"Well, what do you call it?" he asked defensively. How was he supposed to know what the damned muggle contraption was called?!
"It's a television, Malfoy. Or TV, for short." she told him, shaking her head.
"Right, well I'm watching the 'T.V.'" he said, making air quotes as he said it. "And what are you doing, in that little nighty, huh?" he asked her, quirking his eyebrows, which made her roll her eyes.
"I was wondering why my TV was on, and then I remembered I had a ferret sleeping on my couch." she said, turning to head back to her room.
"Hey, you brought me here." he said with a shrug, turning back to the screen.
Hermione shut her door behind her. "Prat," she muttered to herself as she pulled her dresser drawer open, letting a yawn escape as she gazed down through glazed eyes at her clothes. She was never one for dressing up, it felt nice, once in a while, at say, a ball. But, she preferred something comfortable, while not looking like a grandma.
She pulled out a pair of fitting jeans, and a T-shirt, and headed into the bathroom. She needed to take a shower if she was going to deal with him. Hopefully she could get him home by the end of the day.
---
After a refreshing shower, and a fresh pair of clothes, she came out of her room to find Draco in exactly the same place she'd left him. Lounging on the bed, and watching TV in his boxers. Typical man. "Aren't you going to get up?" she asked him.
He turned to look at her, shrugging. "No clothes, I could use something to eat though. Starving." he said, running a hand through his slightly greasy blond hair. After sleeping, and nearly dying, he needed a shower. Her nose wrinkled slightly, and she turned and walked back to her room. She pulled open her top drawer, and pulled out a pair of jeans, and a brown shirt Ron had left behind last time he'd spent the night, and returned to the living room with them.
"Why don't you take a shower and put these on?" she suggested. "Oh, but before you do that.." she said, pulling a vial she'd stuck into her pocket out, and handing it to him. He took it, looking at it curiously. "For the pain, should work wonders, so you can stand to shower and all that." she told him, nodding.
"You sure you're not trying to poison me?" he asked her, but at the same time, pulled the little cork out, and downed the potion.
"Yeah, I slaved over your unconscious body trying to mend you just so I could poison you the next morning." she said sarcastically, shaking her head.
"I knew it." he said with a smirk, grabbing the stack of clothes, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Most of his color had returned, but she could see an angry red color peeking out from under the large bandage on his side. No doubt the wound was healing, but also probably very tender and stiff.
"Don't move too much, you might reopen the wound." she said, nodding in the direction of his side.
"Since when do you know so much about healing, Granger?" he asked as he got to his feet.
"Since I started training to be a healer." she answered him, and turned, heading into the kitchen to make them breakfast. Or, lunch would probably be more appropriate, seeing as how it was nearly noon. She nodded to herself as she pulled open the muggle refrigerator. "Yeah, lunch.." she muttered under her breath.
---
By the time she had lunch finished, Draco had emerged from her room, tugging at his shirt. The couch had been returned to normal in his absence, and the smell of chicken wafted from the kitchen, and made his stomach react with an angry growl. He walked into the kitchen to see her seasoning the nearly finished chicken while it cooked, and a bowl of salad tossing itself, while ingredients such as tomatoes, cucumbers, and croutons tossed themselves into the mix. She noticed him before he got the chance to creep up on her and scare her.
"There, now don't you feel better now that you've had a shower and a clean pair of clothes?" she asked him, looking over her shoulder.
He rolled his eyes in response. "Yes mother," he said sarcastically, causing her to chuckle, turning back to the food. "Whose clothes are these, anyways? They wouldn't be Weaselbee's, would they?" he asked her.
"You means Ron's? Yes, yes they are." she told him. He made a noise of disgust, but she didn't acknowledge him. Not until she heard him sliding a drawer open. "Oh, good idea, you can set the table." she suggested.
He slammed the drawer shut again. "No thanks, wouldn't want to strain myself." he said, leaning against the counter and watching as she placed the chicken on a plate, and the bowl of salad floated into her hand.
"Right, wouldn't want that." she said, narrowing her eyes at him. The arrogant prat. She carried the chicken and salad out, and set it on the table, before returning to get plates, cups, forks, and napkins, all while he watched. If he weren't injured, she would have slapped him. She sat down at the table, pouring herself some pumpkin juice, while he made himself a plate. She poured him a drink as well, before making her own plate.
"So, you're free to go, you know, whenever you feel like it." she hinted, ready to be rid of him. He was eye candy, but he was a total bother. Not worth it all. She took a bite of her chicken, but kept her eyes on him as he shook his head.
"No, I don't think I'm up to apparating, or side-alonging. Maybe tomorrow.." he said, not bothering to ask, but rather telling her that he didn't intend to leave just yet.
As he said it, he looked casual, but on the inside he was smirking. He was going to take advantage of this, it would be a fun game indeed, and maybe ease his pain and suffering from the blow that, he remembered, would have hit her if he hadn't been pushed in the way.
It all came rushing back to her like a tidal wave when she saw the blond there, sprawled out on the bed, with the remote in his hand. He was flipping through channels, he'd obviously figured out how to work the remote.
"What are you doing?" she asked him flatly, causing him to jump, with caused him to wince and drop the remote, and turn to glare at her. She folded her arms over her chest when she realized she wasn't wearing a bra, and she watched as his eyebrows shot up.
"I'm watching the picture box." he answered her, just as flatly. She couldn't help it, she laughed.
"Picture box? What are you, eighty years old?" she asked him, snickering.
"Well, what do you call it?" he asked defensively. How was he supposed to know what the damned muggle contraption was called?!
"It's a television, Malfoy. Or TV, for short." she told him, shaking her head.
"Right, well I'm watching the 'T.V.'" he said, making air quotes as he said it. "And what are you doing, in that little nighty, huh?" he asked her, quirking his eyebrows, which made her roll her eyes.
"I was wondering why my TV was on, and then I remembered I had a ferret sleeping on my couch." she said, turning to head back to her room.
"Hey, you brought me here." he said with a shrug, turning back to the screen.
Hermione shut her door behind her. "Prat," she muttered to herself as she pulled her dresser drawer open, letting a yawn escape as she gazed down through glazed eyes at her clothes. She was never one for dressing up, it felt nice, once in a while, at say, a ball. But, she preferred something comfortable, while not looking like a grandma.
She pulled out a pair of fitting jeans, and a T-shirt, and headed into the bathroom. She needed to take a shower if she was going to deal with him. Hopefully she could get him home by the end of the day.
---
After a refreshing shower, and a fresh pair of clothes, she came out of her room to find Draco in exactly the same place she'd left him. Lounging on the bed, and watching TV in his boxers. Typical man. "Aren't you going to get up?" she asked him.
He turned to look at her, shrugging. "No clothes, I could use something to eat though. Starving." he said, running a hand through his slightly greasy blond hair. After sleeping, and nearly dying, he needed a shower. Her nose wrinkled slightly, and she turned and walked back to her room. She pulled open her top drawer, and pulled out a pair of jeans, and a brown shirt Ron had left behind last time he'd spent the night, and returned to the living room with them.
"Why don't you take a shower and put these on?" she suggested. "Oh, but before you do that.." she said, pulling a vial she'd stuck into her pocket out, and handing it to him. He took it, looking at it curiously. "For the pain, should work wonders, so you can stand to shower and all that." she told him, nodding.
"You sure you're not trying to poison me?" he asked her, but at the same time, pulled the little cork out, and downed the potion.
"Yeah, I slaved over your unconscious body trying to mend you just so I could poison you the next morning." she said sarcastically, shaking her head.
"I knew it." he said with a smirk, grabbing the stack of clothes, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Most of his color had returned, but she could see an angry red color peeking out from under the large bandage on his side. No doubt the wound was healing, but also probably very tender and stiff.
"Don't move too much, you might reopen the wound." she said, nodding in the direction of his side.
"Since when do you know so much about healing, Granger?" he asked as he got to his feet.
"Since I started training to be a healer." she answered him, and turned, heading into the kitchen to make them breakfast. Or, lunch would probably be more appropriate, seeing as how it was nearly noon. She nodded to herself as she pulled open the muggle refrigerator. "Yeah, lunch.." she muttered under her breath.
---
By the time she had lunch finished, Draco had emerged from her room, tugging at his shirt. The couch had been returned to normal in his absence, and the smell of chicken wafted from the kitchen, and made his stomach react with an angry growl. He walked into the kitchen to see her seasoning the nearly finished chicken while it cooked, and a bowl of salad tossing itself, while ingredients such as tomatoes, cucumbers, and croutons tossed themselves into the mix. She noticed him before he got the chance to creep up on her and scare her.
"There, now don't you feel better now that you've had a shower and a clean pair of clothes?" she asked him, looking over her shoulder.
He rolled his eyes in response. "Yes mother," he said sarcastically, causing her to chuckle, turning back to the food. "Whose clothes are these, anyways? They wouldn't be Weaselbee's, would they?" he asked her.
"You means Ron's? Yes, yes they are." she told him. He made a noise of disgust, but she didn't acknowledge him. Not until she heard him sliding a drawer open. "Oh, good idea, you can set the table." she suggested.
He slammed the drawer shut again. "No thanks, wouldn't want to strain myself." he said, leaning against the counter and watching as she placed the chicken on a plate, and the bowl of salad floated into her hand.
"Right, wouldn't want that." she said, narrowing her eyes at him. The arrogant prat. She carried the chicken and salad out, and set it on the table, before returning to get plates, cups, forks, and napkins, all while he watched. If he weren't injured, she would have slapped him. She sat down at the table, pouring herself some pumpkin juice, while he made himself a plate. She poured him a drink as well, before making her own plate.
"So, you're free to go, you know, whenever you feel like it." she hinted, ready to be rid of him. He was eye candy, but he was a total bother. Not worth it all. She took a bite of her chicken, but kept her eyes on him as he shook his head.
"No, I don't think I'm up to apparating, or side-alonging. Maybe tomorrow.." he said, not bothering to ask, but rather telling her that he didn't intend to leave just yet.
As he said it, he looked casual, but on the inside he was smirking. He was going to take advantage of this, it would be a fun game indeed, and maybe ease his pain and suffering from the blow that, he remembered, would have hit her if he hadn't been pushed in the way.