Shades of Grey

Chapter 11

She was expecting avoidance after Friday night's blunder so when Hermione heard a knock at the door the next day, she truly thought it was the takeaway she'd ordered... again.

Upon seeing a stoic Malfoy instead however, she was starting to wonder if he was confunding the delivery men from her favorite Thai place.

"Do you have it?" she asked, raising a brow.

The impassive façade slipped slightly as he looked at her confused.

"My Pad Thai?" she clarified, feigning boredom.

"What -"

Hermione dramatically sighed with a hand on her hip. If he was confunding the poor bloke, Malfoy should at least grab the food.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" she said in her swottiest tone.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Are you drunk or stupid?"

She glared, silently considering the large bottle of wine she'd just finished... not stupid then?

He blinked a few times, his annoyance noticeably starting to dissipate. "You're pissed."

"Are you here for an appointment?" she asked, glancing at her watch. "If I'm snogging my clients now, I might as well say 'fuck all' to my ethical code and see you right now."

"Granger -"

"Do you come in," she said airly, widening the door. "Or not, I really don't care."

Okay, she cared a little but he didn't need to know.

Malfoy frowned, but eventually moved past her into the living room, eyeing the empty wine bottle and biscuit sleeves.

"Have you eaten anything aside from biscuits today?" he asked, vanishing the empty sleeves and crumbs.

"I was going to have my Pad Thai," she muttered to which he rolled his eyes.

"Sit, Granger," he said, pointing to the couch, his tone brokering no room for arguments.

Hermione huffed and dramatically fell onto her couch.

She thought she heard him snort as he left in the direction of her kitchenette. Her flat wasn't large but it was odd how confident he seemed in her home.

Faster than she predicted, he returned with a large glass of water and a blanket. How'd he know the fluffy purple one was her favorite?

Hermione clicked her tongue. "I know for a fact this was in my bedroom next to some naughty knickers."

Malfoy's eyes drifted to the ceiling, perhaps searching for patience or nargles. "Drink your water."

"Pushy," she mumbled, doing as he asked.

He made a move to sit next to her on the couch but she waved her finger impatiently. "Clients sit in the squashy orange chair, Mr. Malfoy. We're having an appointment, aren't we?"

Malfoy seemed resigned, though his eyes were amused. "Apologies, Mind Healer Granger."

She waved a hand dismissively, taking another drink of water. When he sat down, she attempted to straighten in her seat. "What would you like to talk about today?"

"I would like to have the conversation I wanted to have yesterday but that would involve a pepper-up potion."

Hermione feigned disbelief. "And waste the hardwork from my cheap bottle of wine? I think not, Slytherin sir."

He pinched the bridge of his nose but she was indifferent to his current plight.

"Should we dive into the trauma and horrors of our past?" she mused, raising a brow. "Argue more about the pureblood superiority complex?"