Baton Rouge

- 22 -

Day 7 - Sunday morning

Hermione had stayed in bed as long as she had been able to stand it. She had slept alone. In fact, she had heard Malfoy re-enter the apartment last night, but he hadn't come into the bedroom. And since silence had returned after only a few minutes, she had assumed that he preferred his sofa as a place to sleep this time.

It wasn't really that it bothered her because Hermione had already feared that the situation would probably escalate again - one way or the other. Because even if they didn't talk further about Harry or Malfoy's strange change of heart, there was a good chance they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other again. And Hermione wanted to avoid that at all costs.

All Saturday she had caught herself thinking about what it would be like to sleep with Malfoy one more time before she had to leave his apartment for good. And since she had been alone in said apartment for quite a while, she had also had way too much time to develop those thoughts further. Eventually she had stopped herself. It was more than wrong. It was still Malfoy she was thinking about. And no matter what had happened in the last few days, even if he had helped her and not abused the Baton Rouge's spell, it didn't excuse her behavior.

Secretly, Hermione felt ashamed that she had enjoyed it so much. And she had to admit that, for the most part, it had been her own fault that the physical contact between them had taken place so often. It was a line they shouldn't have crossed. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that it was damn good that it would come to an end with today's date.

There was nothing between them, absolutely nothing, and never had been. Apart from hate, of course. And just because they had let themselves get carried away on that particular level, didn't mean Hermione would forget who Draco Malfoy really was.

With this conclusion, she swung her legs out of bed and finally got up. The sun, coming through the window, promised a golden, lukewarm autumn day, and warmed her toes on the parquet floor.

If Hermione hadn't had to keep thinking about Harry, Malfoy, or her return to the brothel, she would have almost claimed she was in a good mood. She looked out the window. The view was simply gorgeous. The trees had already exchanged their green leaves for a bright orange dress. She found herself wishing she could just leave the apartment, take a walk through autumnal London and get some fresh air. She didn't even want to do anything in particular. Just the idea of ​​being carefree and outside for a few hours made her heart beat faster.

"Good morning." Hermione winced.

He had sneaked up on her once more and she scolded herself because she had actually made up her mind that this wouldn't happen to her again.

Malfoy was standing in the doorway. He still wore the clothes from the day before and Hermione realized he must have avoided the bedroom on purpose. Maybe he felt the same way as she did - or he was just tired of her by now.

"How do you feel today?" he asked and eyed her carefully.

Hermione shrugged. In fact, she hadn't given the pills a single thought since she woke up. That seemed like a good sign to her.

"Everything all right," she said truthfully, cocking her head slightly. She looked him over briefly and considered whether she really dared to ask him another favor.

"Malfoy?" He raised an eyebrow. "Would you mind if we go for a walk?" Hermione whispered, expecting him to laugh at her.

He didn't. „If you like."

It was the only thing he said before turning and leaving the bedroom. Hermione followed him and watched him slip into his shoes and take his robes off the coat rack.