Sour Grapes

Chapter 3 - Focus on the Wines

Draco walked toward the cottage, Granger trailing along behind him. He was rather enjoying this sudden turn of events, and marveling at the fact that mere moments before she had appeared he had been thinking of her.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't so miraculous, he'd often found himself thinking of her. Of her face at the trial, resolute and determined. Of the way she had heatedly pled the Wizengamot for his release, almost as if she'd cared for him. That familiar yet faint sense of hope and yearning began to pool in the pit of his stomach and he shook himself, remembering that he had once stood by and allowed her torture at the hands of his Aunt.

He'd never wanted any of it. As a stupid schoolboy fantasy, it had looked appealing to serve the dark lord. When the man himself took up residence in his house, however, a crashing reality had set in. He had been exposed to a hitherto unimaginable level cruelty towards himself and his family.

He often replayed the events of the night when the trio was captured, trying to work out what he could possibly have done differently to affect the outcome. He had had to smother his relief when Potter and his friends escaped just before the dark lord had returned. It took every imaginable effort on his part to close his mind and employ the occlumency that Severus had taught him.

He'd always had the sense that Severus was teaching him occlumency for more than just every day death eater's work. His suspicion in hindsight was that his mother had asked for the lessons because she knew that he was less affected by darkness and more prone toward empathy. His Mother was always cleverer than anyone gave her credit for, and she could see right through his hatred and jealousy of Potter, Weasley and Granger's friendship from the word go. From the amount that he had complained about them, she'd known he'd coveted their level of connection and spirit of adventure. She'd foreseen the day when he would have to decide which side he was truly on. She'd known he would falter, the clever woman.

And so, she had had him prepared, and prepared he was. The dark lord returned just in time to see Potter and friends disappearing into the ether, wielding a level of rage and torment not previously seen inside the walls of Malfoy Manor. Draco had played his part well, forcing himself to shut out any sense of fear or worry for the fate of his schoolmates and apparent enemies. Shut them inside a little box in his mind, safe from the prying eyes of the dark lord.

These days, without the imminent threat of an all-powerful legilimens, he was able to peruse and examine all of these thoughts to his heart's content.

The fact that one of the subjects of these previously hidden thought boxes was now trailing behind him in a haze, seemed surreal to say the least.

He turned to look at her. She seemed to be hesitating, perhaps considering turning around and running. Given their history, he wouldn't fault her for it. However, he wasn't ready to see her leave yet.

"Keep up, Granger! If I didn't know better I'd assume you were stalling so as to bait me into scooping you up and carrying you over the threshold of this cottage."

He grinned, knowing it had worked, as her eyes widened and her brow furrowed simultaneously. Gods, he loved winding her up. It felt like old times. He might have been walking with Crabbe and Goyle to Hogsmeade on a sunny Saturday, calling taunts back at her and her friends for sport.

But he should probably stand down a bit, she had seemed utterly rattled to stumble upon him here and contrary to popular belief, he had no interest in causing her true distress. Had she really just been looking for a wine sampling?

At first, he'd wondered if she had been coming to find him "accidentally on purpose," as they say. He'd had a dream like that once not too long ago, and so her appearance caused a strange out of body experience where the most delicious dream he'd ever imagined seemed to actually be coming true. He'd had to rely on verbal jousting to distract himself from being far too familiar with her... as he had been in that dream. She certainly didn't need to know how often she'd been invading his mind these past three years.