Ten out of Ten by Morriganmercy

Day 6

- NOT MY STORY! All credit goes to @morriganmercy on a03!

Hermione was drawn from her room on the sixth day by a strange sound. Well, not strange necessarily—she was fairly certain she knew exactly what it was—but it was strange that Malfoy would be producing it.

His door was closed, but the one at the end of the hall, leading into her parent's old room was open. She wasn't nearly as bothered by the evidence that he had rummaged through everything as she would have been on the first day; clearly he was intent on investigating the entire contents of the house.

But when she rounded the corner to the attached bathroom, she was brought up short by what she saw. Because, indeed, Draco Malfoy was using an electric hair dryer... on his face?

He was clothed in his usual uniform of white shirt and black trousers, and his hair was dry. But his head was tilted back and his eyes closed in apparent rapture as he directed the air over his face. It was such an odd and somehow strangely intimate display that Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away. As she watched, he directed the air down the length of each of his arms and over his chest and stomach. He seemed so pleased by the sensation that he didn't even look angry when he caught sight of her watching in the mirror.

"Look at this!" he shouted over the noise of the fan's motor. "Like a combined drying and warming charm! But prolonged!"

Hermione nodded, feeling some foreign sensation building up in her chest. He pointed the dryer at her then, and she squinted against the sudden burst of hot air in her face. It wasn't until the giggle spilled past her lips that she recognized the sensation as laughter.

Horrified, she reached out blindly, fumbling for the off switch. The sound died immediately, and she dropped her hand quickly from where it was wrapped around Malfoy's on the handle. He gave her a look that indicated he found that reaction to be incongruous with the number on the chalkboard downstairs, but she didn't care.

"How did you know how to use this?" she asked out of genuine curiosity.

He reached over to the wall and removed the plug from the socket. "These things are attached to lots of items around the house." He tapped the metal prongs. "The light goes out of the lamps if you remove it from the wall."

Hermione was somewhat impressed. "Anything with one of these plugs runs on electricity," she explained. "It's kind of like magic, but it's channelled through the walls of the house. That's why the light switches are on the walls, too."

Malfoy nodded, looking appraisingly at the electrical socket. "Clever."

Hermione's gaze dropped to the assorted items he'd removed from the bathroom cupboard for inspection: a curling iron, a tray of assorted nail lacquers, about fifty sample toothbrushes, and a box of tampons.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at the counter.

He shrugged. "I'm learning about Muggles."

"But why?"

When she met his eye in the mirror, he smirked.

"Well, my wife was raised by Muggles, for one."

She rolled her eyes.

"And I'm currently living in a Muggle house, for another. I'd like to be comfortable here."

She glanced back up at that, and he shifted on his feet. "As much as possible anyway."

She wondered suddenly if he missed the Manor. Then she wondered why the fuck she was wondering that.

"Well, I'll, erm, leave you to it, then," she said, backing quickly out of the overheated room.

***