Perfect Storm

Chapter 11

 The following morning, as was usual, Hermione woke before Draco. Deciding to be a little nosy, she crept out of bed and into Draco's en suite bathroom. It was the last bit of his flat she hadn't seen and was unsurprised to find it as bare as the other rooms.

Draco's style wasn't exactly minimalist, but for a man that could afford anything he desired, a person would never know it by simply glancing around his home. There weren't any pieces of art on the wall or lavish knick-knacks and appliances. The most personal items one could find was his collection of books. There was one bookcase in the sitting room lined with everything from Greek literature to Alchemy handbooks. When she had peeked into his second bedroom, the week before, she found boxes upon boxes filled with more tomes. Hermione couldn't help but admit that she was a tiny bit jealous of his personal library.

His en suite was the same. Bare, eggshell-colored walls with a basic sink and toilet. A closer look in the shower revealed that Draco was used to a few of the finer amenities. The shampoo and soap weren't a brand you would find browsing the aisles of the local chemist, and when Hermione ran her hand over his towels, the softness could have rivaled that of a newborn kitten. Instead of a normal showerhead, there was an overhead, rainfall shower.

Hermione bit her lip as she eyed up the shower. Hot water cascading over her body was a heavenly thought at that moment. She reached out and slowly turned the handle. The water flowed and took only seconds to heat up. Back in New York, she had to let the shower run for at least three minutes for it to gain any sense of warmth. When she stepped in and the flow hit her body, she contemplated the possibility of trading her magic for the water pressure at home to match what she was feeling right then.

As she lathered Draco's shampoo into her hair, Hermione let her mind wander back to the events of the previous evening. She immediately felt guilty for how she treated Ron. The poor sod was only trying to help and make sure she got to the right destination. He had been right- she was being unreasonably bitchy. Giving a sigh of defeat, she made a mental note to add a stop on her travels back to Harry and Ginny's.

Wrapped in the fluffiest towel her body had ever felt, Hermione stood in front of the oversized, oval mirror. She swiped her hand over the layer of condensation that had gathered and inspected the damage Draco had done to her neck. One by one, she placed a Glamour spell on each bite mark and tried not to dwell on the acts that put them there, for fear of jumping back in bed and letting him undo all her spellwork.

It was with great disappointment that she parted ways with her towel and slipped back into her dress. When she reentered the bedroom she found it empty. The sound of cabinets opening and closing were coming from the kitchen, so she made her way there, stopping momentarily to retrieve her purse from the hall floor. In the kitchen, she found Draco just sitting down at the table. Two bowls of cereal and two glasses of orange juice were set between him and an empty chair.

"What's this?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"You said you like breakfast in the morning, so I made breakfast," Draco answered, nodding to the bowls.

"You mean you poured cereal and juice?"

"I could unpour it if you'd prefer," he retorted with a scowl.

Hermione let out a heavy sigh and ran her hands through her damp curls. "No, I'm sorry. Thank you," she said, sitting down in the empty chair. She poured milk over the cereal and took a sip of juice, under Draco's scrutinous gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Just reflecting on how well you have yourself closed off," Draco commented, taking a bite of his cereal.

"What's that supposed to mean?"