His frustration washed away like a sand castle in the wake of a rising tide. He found his cheek and his palm pressed up gently against the door, and no idea how both had come to be there.
"Granger," he said very softly, as the knowledge of her presence beyond the door passed over him, the exact opposite of a chill. For one lovely moment, the pain in his shoulder was forgotten.
Whoah. Powerful stuff, this Fida Mia.
She was in there, alone. And he was standing there with nothing but a door separating them. Even better still, everyone else was someplace else.
The road ahead leads to trouble, the Rational Part of his brain advised. Possibly more than just one kind of trouble. Best to order a quick retreat back to the dungeons where Pansy and the others are probably keeping your butter beer chilled for you.I don't want butter beer, the Evil Bastard Part of his brain retorted. I want to be in the company of the girl who makes me forget about my hurts.
As it turned out, the Rational Part of his brain was about as strong willed as a rabbit loose in a vegetable patch.
Well then, if you put it that way.
"Curmudgeons," whispered Draco, and the door opened for its prescribed password. He was about to fulfil his Evil Bastard quota for the month.
Yes. It was good thing to be a prefect.
Chapter Twenty
The room was incredibly steamy. If Draco closed his eyes, it was possible to imagine that he was stepping into the middle of a warm, fragrant cloud. He was pleasantly reminded of the Turkish Bath Houses he visited while on holiday in Istanbul with his mother.
Draco waved a hand in front of him, nearly expecting the movement to cut a visible slice through the thick air. There was an astringent, healing sort of scent to the steam, which seemed fitting given his purpose there.
Oh, she's going to hate me..
He was experiencing a tightness in his chest that hadn't been there prior to entering the bathroom. It was a funny sort of feeling; too mild to be guilt and too unpleasant to be anticipation. Whatever it was, it was annoying and he wished it would go away.
She was chin deep in the water when he spotted her, probably seated on one of the lower steps that were situated on opposite ends of the tub. Her eyes were closed and she looked so completely relaxed, that he was jealous. The bath ought to have been his that afternoon. He needed a bit of time and space from the real world.
Trust Granger to be the one to thwart his plans.
A quick glance around the bathroom revealed that her clothes were neatly folded and draped over a heated towel bar. Her shoes rested just beneath. Always fastidious, he thought, rolling his eyes.
Then again, perhaps not always. She hadn't been very neat or tidy in removing her clothes at the Muggle motel room during their binge weekend. They had left at least a few buttons, ripped from their clothing in their haste, on the carpet that morning. Draco was sure of it. The zipper on his dress pants hadn't been working either. He'd spent the entire carriage ride home (not to mention the quick trip to Diagon Alley Post Office), with his fly open.
The pants had come back from the laundry at the manor with a brand new zipper, courtesy of the ever efficient Toolip. It was a blessing that he hadn't been wearing button-up trousers. They had been almost frantic after the tattooing, as if every additional second of non-contact was agony.
Buttons would have frustrated Granger. He recalled that she had had enough trouble walking a straight line, let alone negotiating a column of tiny fastenings. She was so wobbly that Draco had very nearly carried her into the motel reception.
Granger wasn't the most graceful woman when drunk, but she had been a very cheerful drunk and had smiled and laughed more in that one night that he had seen her do in her entire seven years at school.
If he ever had the misfortune of having brats of his own, he'd be sure to tell them that it never did anyone good to dabble in magic they didn't understand. He could imagine regaling the story of how he'd ended up inconveniently married to a bothersome Mudblood all because he had been foolish enough to try his hand at dodgy, old, Magick.