Chapter 4

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When Hermione wakes up, there's a warm fire going beside her, she's underneath layers of fur, and Draco is nowhere to be found. She sits up and looks around the room, noting that the lights are still dim, but the door to outside is slightly cracked open. She's just about to call out his name, to stand up and go to the door, when it pushes open and he walks inside. He's once again wearing the leather leggings and shirt, but no cloak or boots.In his hand he has meat, although it's too frozen to be fresh. He must have either retrieved it from the sled outside or from a cache nearby.

"You're awake," he says gruffly.

She nods and runs a hand into her hair, noting as she does so that it's not as tangled as it had been. Normally, her hair would be a complete mess after sleeping with it out of a braid or a wrap. How strange.

"I woke up and you were not here," she answers without thought, watching as he freezes in his motion to close the door.

The way he turns and looks at her... it had been a simple statement. She had woken up from her sleep. He was not there. Simple statements. Simple facts. Simple truths.

And yet, the way he turns and looks at her now, the way he stares at her from across the room... It clearly means so much more to him than just simple facts.

"I did not know what meat you prefer," he says as he resumes shutting the door. "I have brought d'visti."

She doesn't really care one way or another for the meat - every piece, she makes as small as she can, and tries to add a bit of spice to it. She enjoys the pink tuber roots the most, and prefers fish over meat, but she tries to not be picky. She will not complain about this.

"Thank you," she answers.

"Which do you prefer?" he asks, sitting to thaw the meat.

"I prefer to not be hungry," she answers diplomatically. She knows he is a hunter, and that fishing takes time. She would not want to insult him.

"But what do you prefer?" he asks again.

She presses her lips together, watching as the meat begins to thaw. She doesn't even know if they have any spices... she might have to simply eat the meat raw, or slightly seared. She's not looking forward to it.

"I prefer fish," she answers carefully. "With a bit of salt on it. I know that salt is rare, and that fishing takes time, but-"

"I shall bring you salt back from my next hunting trip," he says, cutting her off. "And fishing can take time, but you can join me. We can do it together, if you like."

She does like. She likes that very much.

"What kind of meat do you like?" she asks, finding it to be a suitable question for getting to know him.

"Snow cat," he answers without thought. "It is good eating, and the fur..."

He stares at her suddenly, as though he has lost his thought, and she stares back at him, waiting for him to catch it. What could he possibly be thinking about so hard?

"What about the fur?" she presses, wanting the answer.

His eyes suddenly drift over her body, and she blushes. The way he looks at her is not... It is dangerous. It makes the khui in her chest start to hum louder, the resonance becoming demanding the more they get to know one another.

"I shall hunt snow cats once we have returned," he says slowly. "One for our bed. One for our wall. One for me to wrap you in."

Her cheeks practically burn in reaction, and she has to look away from him as she giggles, her eyes studying the fire.

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