Chapter 9

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A month had passed since Draco and Hermione moved in together. The days after Blaise's visit had gone by uneventfully, that is if you ignore Hermione banging at Draco's door every morning and evening, trying to force him out of his room and give him his treatment potions. Eventually she'd given up on that. She decided to leave the tray with the bottle of potions in front of Draco's door, without knocking or saying anything.

Draco, on the other hand, found it very annoying when she kept pestering him with the banging and yelling at his door. He was therefore very glad of the change in Hermione's behavior. Every day he waited for the right hour to open his door. After making sure she was gone, he would grab the tray, pull it inside his room and snapped the door closed quickly.

Hermione believed he was acting like a spoiled brat, but decided it was good enough he took his treatment. Therefore, she decided not to press the matter further. After all, she wasn't very keen on interacting with him much either. The rest of the time, they mostly kept to their own rooms, conjuring food whenever they were hungry.

Draco never got out of the flat. Not because Hermione or someone else forced him not to, but because he never felt the urge to do so. He felt safe inside, protected from the world and the people out there. That way he wouldn't have to deal with their whispering, pointing fingers at him or worse even, their look of disgust whenever they would turn their eyes at him.

Meanwhile Hermione, who had decided to take some time off from her work at St. Mungo's, was trying to keep a schedule, much like she'd always done even before she became Draco's sober companion. Every Friday evening, she would go out for two hours. She always left the flat and came back at the same hours, every Friday, without fail. She never told Draco where she was going, but he always heard her leaving.

That Friday though, something unexpected happened.

Hermione had left at the same hour she always did, leaving Draco alone. The sound of her Apparating away from the flat made him let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He wasn't sure whether it was because he was relieved to be alone again or because of something else, but the fact remained that suddenly, he felt lighter in the chest. He decided to step out of his room and walk around the house for a little while, maybe even go out on the balcony and enjoy a bit of fresh air.

Unfortunately, outside was raining pretty badly and the open balcony was now out of the question. With a frustrated huff, Draco looked around the kitchen, checking it more thoroughly than he did the day he moved. Opening the cupboards one by one, he discovered everything one needed for brewing potions. He made a mental note to do just that next time Hermione left him alone. After finishing in the kitchen, he realized there wasn't anything interesting he could do, so he returned to his room.

Nothing very interesting waited for him there either.

After he spent an hour pacing around the room, picking up things and putting them back down, without realizing what he was doing, he finally worked himself tired. He threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes, laying there breathing slowly.

Even though his form looked peaceful, inside he was feeling a storm of emotions. Draco felt like a caged animal: annoyed, weak and powerless. All those days being cooped up in the flat were starting to take their toll on his psych. He was starting to feel suffocated.

Is this how the dragons from Gringotts felt? Poor creatures...

The thought came to his mind so suddenly that his eyes snapped open and his body almost jerked upward. Bad slump he was finding himself in if he was starting to pity creatures he'd never even given a thought to before. But now, the image of a big, white, half-blind and cowering dragon gave him a bunch of emotions he was finding hard to keep at bay.

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