Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love

Chapter 32: A Paedagogical Exchange

At the Manor, a briskly snapping fire awaited them in the smallest salon. The curtains had been drawn against the darkening sky. Henriette laid out a small goûter of cheese squares, tapenade, and tiny quiches lorraines.

They divested themselves of their winter things. Draco installed himself in an armchair in shirtsleeves and braces. Granger flung herself onto one of the sofas, folded her hands upon her chest, and smiled at the ceiling.

Her elation was catching. Draco, too, felt a deep gladness – for the wizarding world at large, but also for her, for having achieved something so meaningful after so much effort. The months had been long, the dangers had been many, the occasions for giving up, innumerable.

And she hadn't given up. She had pushed through. She had gone forth and conquered.

He brimmed with admiration.

To communicate this powerful emotion, Draco floated a cube of cheese above Granger's face.

"Can I help you?" said Granger to the cheese.

"You haven't eaten. Henriette will be vexed."

Now he tried to float the cheese into her mouth. It bumped her nose and chin. Granger swatted away the cheese. Draco wished to indicate that he was better at aiming for mouths with other things.

Granger sat up and summoned a few crackers towards herself. It was the first time they'd eaten together in a long time. Draco watched her partake in one of the quiches lorraines in small bites.

"What?" asked Granger.

"You eat like a pygmy puff."

Granger looked provoked. Then she sniffed. "I should like to compare you to some creature or other – but I must be fair. Poor table manners don't number amongst your many flaws."

Draco was simultaneously flattered and offended. "My many flaws?"

Now Granger looked prim.

"What did I do?" asked Draco. "What didn't I do?"

"Just another broken promise," said Granger, lightly, as one would, if one's trust in men had been obliterated, yet again, by Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, we're doing this again, are we?"

"Yes."

"Which promise?"

"You never taught me Caeli Praesidium."

Draco was piqued. "You never taught me the things you were meant to, either."

Granger was holding back a smile. "I suppose we've both been a bit busy."

"A bit."

"Are you busy tonight?" asked Granger.

"You're meant to be doing nothing."

"I know."

"Learning my most complex ward is not nothing."

"Permit me this extravagance."

"Fine. But you're going to teach me the runic command."

Granger hopped to her feet and looked eager. "All right."

She had managed to do nothing for all of ten minutes.

"Let's go to my study," said Draco. "I shall have to draw some things out. It gets a bit – theoretical."

"Ooh," said Granger, following him out of the salon. "I like theory."

Draco opened the door to his study and stepped aside to let her in. She looked about, taking in the furnishings, the heavy curtains, the candles floating in glowing clusters. The fire sputtered and purred.