Left Behind 2: Illusions (A Dramione Romance)

A Late Dinner

It was late when Draco arrived back and he was exhausted. Nothing had gone smoothly. Even the smallest thing-shopping for some extra ingredients for his own list in order to make some more healing salves took longer than necessary. He found himself popping out of country just to get more. 

Everywhere he had gone he had either been met with frightened looks, dark glares or strange nods of acknowledgement.  

When he arrived back he did not feel like doing or making anything for dinner.

She hasn't eaten yet though, he thought and slogged his way to the kitchen, his feet tired. 

A plate of leftovers was waiting for him on the table.

He looked at the plate of food-it was expertly put together and the scent of it made his mouth water. He couldn't bring himself to eat this and then make something mediocre for Hermione. 

She had asked him if she would see him when he got back in a tone...a tone that had sliced him because it had given him a flicker of hope before he worked out that of course, logically she would be worried about being home alone for long hours and the hope to see him was just her...voicing the concern at being alone.

It was probably a stressful day for her, give her something nice, his mind urged.

Draco up the plate and a few extra rolls as well as a bottle of wine and he took them up to the room.

He would feed her, make sure she went to bed and then check on Fred. Given the improvement in the morning he was hoping he could use some of the "pepping powder" he had bought, which was basically smelling salts on magical steroids to wake the redhead from his comatose state.

Hermione was sitting looking out the window when he came back. She smiled when she saw him and Draco felt the warmth of her smile like a sucker punch to the gut.

"I brought dinner," he said.

"It looks like it's only enough for one," she pointed out. "Did you already eat with your family?"

"I..." he went to lie and tell her that he had eaten already and felt the words stick in his throat.

Damn this fucking promise, he mentally growled.

"I brought it up to the room so you could eat," it was the truth. She didn't need to know that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast since he had been too busy doing errands. 

She didn't need to know he had chosen to bring her his meal instead of just a roll of bread and that he was opting for what she would usually have in favor of her getting something better.

She needs it more. She has gone without too much, you can handle a day without food.

His answer seemed to satisfy her and she sat down and dug in eagerly. He watched her eyes light up as she took the first bite.

Worth it, he thought quietly and sat down opposite her at the table.

Draco had never had to go without and his body protested slightly, his stomach growling. 

Thankfully Hermione's knife scraped the plate at the same moment and she missed the sound.

 Draco poured himself a glass of wine and buttered two of the three rolls he had brought up. He began munching on them and then poured Granger a glass of wine. She looked at him sideways.

"What?" he asked.

"You drink wine?"

"Yes," he answered. "Good wine goes with good food. That's a steak, so red wine is in order."

"Oh..." said Hermione looking at her glass.

"Of course one can make the argument that it's more important to have a wine you like then one that is considered the correct or proper pairing, but since I like red wine," he took a swig and the warmth of it went straight to his mostly empty stomach. He felt it run through him and smiled. "That isn't an issue."

"I don't really drink," said Granger.

"Ever the goody two shoes," Draco gibed and he watched her shift uncomfortably.

Way to peer pressure her, he chastised himself. He hadn't intended to push her. He didn't want her to do anything she didn't want to-didn't want her too feel forced.

"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to Granger," he said trying to convince her he meant it. "I just thought you might like something nice."

He watched her face change at his words and then her eyes softened and grew warm. A flush of warmth that had nothing to do with the wine and everything to do with that look flowed through him.

"Thank you," she said and lifted her glass towards him.