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PAPERS WERE SCATTERED ALL OVER THE KITCHEN TABLE. A mug of cold coffee sat dangerously close to the edge. And Jane was trying her best with Draco to figure out a plan of action.
"They rotate sites every time someones escapes," Draco said. "Pick up everything and move just in case they manage to get someone to believe them. It's like clockwork."
"But they have at least fifty people tied up. How do they move so easily?" Jane asked.
Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "House elves. They have different magic than we do. House elves take half of the prisoners to the new site, and the other half are taken by any members through disillusionment charms and apparation."
"Still, there has to be something else. That's not at all efficient. There must be a reason that no one's caught onto any of this yet, and it has to be because there's a sensible mode of transportation."
Draco stared at Jane as she wracked her brain for an answer. In the short time that they had spent together, he quickly took to the ambition that practically dripped from her. It was fierce determination and an undeniable sense of good that guided her. He wondered how she could have possibly ended up in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor.
"You're staring," she pointed out, bringing him out of his thoughts and back to her. Jane had stopped her ministrations to look at Draco who seemed out of touch.
"Yeah, I guess I'm just tired," he said. The words slipped out before he could think of anything better. There was something about getting caught watching her that left him flustered for the first time in a long time.
Jane nodded. "You should go rest. You're not all healed yet," she said softly to him. She placed a hand on his almost instinctively as if it were something so simple and easy for her. Draco envied it just as much as he hated it. He withdrew his hand from hers, and she immediately took notice to it. "Sorry. Force of habit. I didn't mean to – "
"No worries."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Draco pushed his seat back, quickly walking away towards the spare bedroom he had been staying in. Closing the door behind him, he laid down on top of the bed. Thoughts clouded his mind as he stared up at the ceiling.
The War had been six years ago, but there was never a day where he didn't remember Voldemort's slender arms wrapping around him in a hug. Out of everything that he had been through, that was the one thing that failed to leave him. Physical touch was overbearing before Voldemort, but afterwards it had been traumatizing.
Draco knew that Jane wouldn't hurt him, that she wouldn't put him in an uncomfortable situation. He had seen that she was kindhearted and mindful. But there was caution that lived in his mind, warning him that any touch was bad touch. And even though the feeling of her hand on his was comforting for a fleeting moment, it left a bitterness coursing through his body.
Some things would only get better with time, and time hadn't passed enough to help Draco yet.
Jane felt terrible. For her, touch was normal. It was something that always came easy to her especially with four siblings. Since Matilda and Evan passed to ghosts, Jane had only become more touch starved. But she knew this wasn't the case, and she had been trying to keep it in mind around Draco, yet she had still made a mistake.
After hours of wondering if he was alright and hoping he would be, Jane decided to check on Draco. She knocked lightly against his door, and moments later she heard him shifting around before saying to come in.
"I'm sorry," she said first. "I didn't mean to scare you earlier. It was an honest mistake, and I'm sorry." Jane looked hesitantly at Draco who nodded as if to say he understood and accepted her apology.
He cleared his throat awkwardly after seeing her fall silent and stand by the doorway. "You can come in and sit."
Jane nodded and sat at the chair by the bed. "Feeling better?"
"Feeling as I usually do."
"Oh."
Immediately, Draco bit the side of his cheek, feeling bad for his bitter words. Almost without thinking, wanting to fill the almost painful awkward silence, he spoke.
"How are your siblings?" He asked. It was the first thing that came to the mind.
Jane seemed surprised by the sudden and random question, but answered anyways. "They're fine. William's studying dragons in Romania. Lydia's in Korea working as a diplomat. And Bennet and Charlotte are at Hogwarts."
"That's good."
And once more, silence ensued. As Draco racked his brain to find something to say, it was Jane this time who had spoke again.
"I never got to say thank you properly." Jane didn't have to say for what because Draco immediately knew what she was talking about. "You didn't have to, but you stepped in. And I've always held that memory in my mind because I was so grateful for you."
Draco didn't like the way his cheeks darkened a slight shade, dusting his cheeks in blush. He didn't like the way his heart felt weird when he saw Jane's wistful smile.
"Don't worry about it," he managed out. "It's not something worth commending."
Jane let out a light laugh that filled the room because he didn't seem to understand that for her, it was her life on the line. "I heard about everything that happened that year, but I never hated you for it," she confessed.
"You should."
"I don't."
Draco shook his head. "You really should hate me. You should be disgusted by me, and you should have cursed me out the moment you saw me lying on your floor. You should have never volunteered for the trip, and you should – "
"But I don't."
Jane's words were soft but firm, and Draco's words melted on his tongue. He met her eyes, and he saw the genuine concern she had for him. It boiled his blood and made his chest tighten for all the wrong reasons.
