onesandzcros

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  As a general rule, Draco didn’t talk about what lead to his arrival at the school in Oslo and his living arrangements with Theodore and Penelope. Only Justin knew a little about it; the other three just seemed to think it was cool that he didn’t live with his parents at his age and was taken seriously by his roommates, both of whom went to college. To everyone outside of his friends group, Draco assumed he was invisible. If he wasn’t, the assumption should be that he moved here with his parents in the summer. Astoria knew better now, though, and Draco didn’t think he minded that. “Paris,” he said when asked where he went. “I knew some people there. I could live with them as long as I helped them out with the odd job here and there. It was a nice time.” It was a very conflicting time for him too. He’d dedicated his time to causes he believed in, school was out of the way as an obstacle and his parents were a nuisance at best. “My parents are very progressive. So much so that it was getting in the way of much else, including parenting. They didn’t want children, so I guess that makes sense.” The words were matter-of-fact. To Draco, the situation was too, but he knew it was different to an outsider listening.      He didn’t expect Astoria to share in return (she didn’t have to, but she could if she wanted to) but that didn’t mean he minded it. If anything, he was happy that she felt comfortable enough to say anything at all. It was nice to be able to talk. “That doesn’t sound nice,” he offered. “Parents shouldn’t have other priorities. But they do, all the time. I’m sorry yours does too.” He looked aside at her and offered a small smile. Much like in his situation, he imagined people only saw the advantages of her living arrangements with hers too. “It’s not fun when people can’t give you what you need from them,” he added with another look aside and a light shrug of his shoulders. They could relate to each other, it seemed. “It’s not fair to kick someone when they’re already down. You had the guts to reach out. I really respect that.” It was hard to reach out in Draco’s experience, and he thought she was doing it again when she asked about his experiences. “It was mandatory for me, but I do think it helps to work through things. Understanding other point of views when they’re so different from yours is hard. Did you think it helped?” 

   When Astoria heard the word Paris, it clicked together with another detail that she’d noticed on entering the therapist’s waiting room like two puzzle pieces. “That...explains the book you were reading earlier,” she said, studying him. “But if that’s the case, I stand by what I first said. Brave.” There was something lonely about what Draco described, something that stirred recognition. “What made you come here, instead?” If Paris had treated Draco well, she could only assume that something�� had changed in the interim. As he proceeded to describe his parents being progressive but having never wanted children, Astoria bit back the response that that didn’t sound so very progressive to her. Progressive was taking care of your children instead of neglecting them, but Draco turned out extraordinary all on his own. Instead, she looked at him. “So you pretty much parented yourself. Seems like you did better than they did on that front.” It put a lot in perspective for Astoria. “Did you ever talk to them again, once you left?” She at least still got a phone call when her father remembered, which wasn’t often. He got regular emails from her. Dear Dad. The therapist had fastened onto that admission, of course.

   I’m sorry yours does too. That might be the first time anyone had told her they were sorry something hurt her, and meant it. Astoria tried very hard not to stare at him too long for that. “It happens. I guess it’s my responsibility to work on myself now, instead of hiding from it,” she said, and that was too much honesty, enough to make her physically itch. She wasn’t used to this, and instead, she watched Draco, took in his features and the comfort offered of that small smile. She’d take what she could get of comfort right now. “I think it’s formative,” she said after a moment. “When you’re denied something at a deep level, it stays with you. It affects the other connections you try to form, your ability to trust.” She hesitated then, looked at him. “but today makes me want to trust you, after you got me here.” And that was a dangerous thing, or would have been, if it hadn’t been Draco. Once he stated that the therapy was mandatory, Astoria tilted her head at him. “How did it end up being mandatory for you?” she asked, because the element of choice had been important to her. “It helped me, if only because the therapist told me that it’s actually very normal to not understand emotional interactions when you never had anything like that. But also that I can learn.” She wasn’t lacking the intelligence necessary, but she knew it wouldn’t be an easy way through. “Thank you,” she told him softly.

[onesandzcros]

Draco:

  When Draco exited his therapist’s office at seven thirty, he wasn’t sure whether to expect anyone there at all in the waiting room. He’d brought a book to be sure.  While he stood by calling Astoria out in front of her friends (who, frankly, could probably use the lesson too given the way they strotted around the school), he also intended to stand by whatever aftermath it caused. He certainly didn’t calculate in Astoria asking him about seeing a therapist, but all that meant was that she’d actually listened. So he held up his part of the deal and didn’t reschedule his appointment. Once in the waiting room, he concluded that Astoria was actually there. He smiled at her briefly. “I’ll wait around,” was all he said as he pulled the book out of his bag, Les Liaisons dangereuses. Seconds later the therapist came to get her and he flashed another hopefully encouraging smile at her before settling in for foreseeable time period.       After Astoria exited the office after her appointment, Draco walked with her through the building and onto the street, where it turned out they both had to go in the same direction. He looked aside at her briefly. “It takes one to know one, you know,” he said then. “You can’t recognize behaviours if you don’t know them.” He let that hang between them for a couple of seconds as they crossed the street and passed by two people on the pavement. Then he spoke again. “I’m a junior in high school living with two college students because my parents are so far removed from reality that I fled the country to get away from them. Needless to say, the authorities weren’t pleased that I missed multiple months of school.” The argument that he could have taken his French end of school exam then and there and passed with flying colours had apparently not been helpful. “People don’t usually have your back, I learned. But I decided to have yours in this. It’s hardly of any use to continue the theme when you want to see it changed.” Be the change you want to see. Cliche? Yes. True? Nevertheless true too.

   It had taken Astoria time to wrap her head around both of the conversations with Draco. It was less about the fact that he’d called her out, and more about the fact that she did know beneath the surface that several of her own coping mechanisms were far from healthy. Showing up proved that it hadn’t been a lie, and when she saw Draco emerge from the office in confirmation, the relief had punctured her quick and sharp. I’ll wait around. As expected, what followed wasn’t easy. Unexpectedly, she felt as though she'd chosen right this time. Finding Draco still there shouldn’t have felt like a surprise, because apparently, he did what he said he would. As they walked together, out of the corner of her eye, she kept catching the flash of pale blond hair, drawn to glance in his direction frequently. What is it about you? On hearing that it took one to know one, Astoria tilted her head and listened. “You were brave to leave, not knowing what might be next. I don’t know that I’ve met anyone like you before,” she said. “Where did you go, when you ran? How did you end up here?” They weren’t questions with the intention to be intrusive. She clarified that. “You don’t have to answer, but you make me wonder about you, and what your life has been like. What it means when you say your parents were removed from reality.” That wasn’t common, but it was the gaps between the words that Astoria was seeing, what wasn’t said just as important.

   Once school was mentioned, Astoria exhaled a sigh. “People always focus on academics, don’t they? As though that’s the measure of whether someone is doing well otherwise,” she said, hands in the pockets of the jacket she wore. “My father doesn’t really care; his version of reality is one where work is his life. He moved to London and I didn’t want to go. He gave up on me before that anyway. Left me with the house, a monthly allowance, told me not to screw up too badly and keep my grades high.” It sounded like the dream, and it came with a lot of advantages, which she recognised enough to understand no one would want to hear her complain about the other side of it. It also wasn’t a set of facts she’d ever shared before for that reason. Even some of the people who knew her best and were privy to the information didn’t actually know the entire story. But in therapy, she’d talked about it, and now Draco was declaring that he’d have her back on this. “I learned that too, in a different way,” she said, meeting his eyes then. “Thank you for having mine. And for not actually making fun of me when I took you at your word.” She hesitated then, a rare thing for Astoria, more reflective in this moment. “Has it helped you? Going to therapy and talking to someone, I mean.” For her, she felt raw, as though she’d peeled back layers she was accustomed to keeping firmly in place.

[onesandzcros]

Franklyn​:

  The last thing that Franklyn expected during a Tuesday night out, was a call from his youngest sister letting him know that she was at his apartment. She didn’t exactly live close by. Franklyn had left the town that he grew up in behind years ago after a tumultuous senior year that changed his entire outlook on his life. He wasn’t going to college close by to study theology and follow in his father’s footsteps. He certainly hadn’t done that in any way whatsoever. He was quick to drive home to go see Astoria, who told him that she’d assumed that this time their parents might respond better to one of their children not being straight. They hadn’t. That brought her to his doorstep, just enough money for a plane ticket and a very small bag with stuff to get her through the night. They shared his bed that night, Astoria fast asleep once her head hit Franklyn’s spare pillow, Franklyn up for hours to come as he messaged with Daphne and Alfred both. He was thankful to be in between jobs at the moment so when the morning came he could take Astoria home. Home was empty, however, suspiciously empty, and it made both of them uneasy. Astoria proceeded to drag him along to the community centre and was kind enough to warn him exactly who she was looking for before walking in. Terence Higgs, apparently.    They found Terence in an office where he seemed to be busily at work. The conversation that followed between Terence and Astoria was short and lead to Astoria agreeing to pack her stuff so she didn’t have to be at home. It hurt Franklyn to see. The parallel was obvious, and he was thankful that Terence was yet again happy to help in a situation where help was to necessary. He’d asked Alfred if Astoria could stay there, but Astoria insisted that she’d rather stay with Terence while she figured out something more permanent. If he’d been her, he would have preferred the option of Terence as well, he thought. When Astoria left to pack her stuff, the house only two streets away from the centre, and asked if he was coming, Franklyn told her he’d go and find her soon. She gave him a knowing look before leaving and leaving Franklyn with Terence. It’d been years, years of Franklyn drowning out missing Terence, but being faced with the other man meant he remembered it all too well. “Thank you so much for letting her stay,” he said. “I wish I could do more, but I don’t have a place here and she has to go to school. I’d be happy to pay for any expenses, though.” He didn’t think Terence would take the money, truth be told, much like his parents had refused anything other than a genuine thank you when Franklyn lived with them years prior. He ran a hand through his hair habitually. “I feel horrible for her. But I’m glad that she sees you as a safe place, though. She told me a bit about the work you’ve been doing. It’s amazing.” Nothing like what Franklyn was spending his life doing so far. “How have you been?”

   Terence hadn’t been expecting it when he’d been paid a visit by Astoria Greengrass the first time, clearly struggling with her sexuality and needing someone to talk to. That he’d been able to let her have a space where she was listened to, her thoughts and feelings valued, was incredibly important, and the reason that the community centre’s LGBTQ+ safe space existed in the first place. What he wasn’t prepared for her was the next time that she appeared, looking as though she hadn’t slept enough for a couple of days, and with her older brother right there with her. Of course she’d go to Franklyn. “I told my parents,” she informed him, seemingly finding it difficult to get the words out. “My mother flipped. I didn’t know what to do.” The helplessness in her voice, not characteristic for Astoria at all, led Terence to immediate comprehension and a decision. “If you want them, there’s a room at my house and a set of house keys that are all yours,” he told her softly. “If you need to be away that environment, you’re welcome to come stay as long as you need to.” This was far too close to home, both for himself and for the man standing there with them, and reminded him of a freezing winter night and a carful of possessions and his parents’ house. 

   It wasn’t until Astoria had gone to collect her stuff that Terence allowed himself a few seconds to look at Franklyn. Older, yes, but more handsome rather than less, still enough to make his heart skip a bit like he was still seventeen. Franklyn looked like the person he’d missed and who no one else had ever lived up to. “You don’t need to be paying anything, I’ve got it,” he reassured Franklyn immediately, conscious that his voice was deeper but still recognisably him since they last saw each other. The slight hint of stubble at his jawline was a similar indicator of other changes. “I’ll make sure she gets the necessities. You did everything for her by just being there when she needed you.” The old habit of watching Franklyn run a hand back through his hair, something that had never gone away, hit with a distinct pang. “I’m glad Astoria knew she could come here,” he said more softly. “Thank you. I’ve been alright, back here a couple years, and been trying to make some positive changes. How about you? How are you holding up with everything?” It felt like small talk, surprisingly less awkward than Terence had expected, but part of it was concern; this had to be pressing buttons for Franklyn in some way. He smiled then, warm and obvious, and gave some indication of what he really thought. “You look good, Franklyn. I wish it was different circumstances, but I’m glad to see you again. It’s been too long.” Way too long, in Terence’s opinion; life got in the way, and what had been more constant messaging and pain over the distance had become texts on significant occasions only instead. That had been the extent of their contact for a long time now.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  They had never quite had new actors come to the show in the way they did now. They’d had new additions to the show whenever new characters beyond the core group were needed, but never quite an entire group of new people, most with hardly any experience, to work with. The group looked ready for hard work, eager to put their best foot forward and Draco actually rather enjoyed working ith them so far. The issue wasn’t their lack of experience; it was the way Eric went about scheduling the show now, constantly changing things last-minute, and them not being bothered by it because it was just one season for them. It made Draco the odd one out and the only one complaining at all. “Eric knows this. He just likes to push it,” was Draco’s simple reply. “He seems to be waiting until my voice actually doesn’t hold up anymore, but I’d rather not that we get there.” Once they did, they were in bigger trouble, after all. “We don’t know who is leaking and I don’t they’re all too eager to step forward now. Apparently breaking the NDA was worth it.” In a way, Draco found it hard to blame whatever crew member did it, considering the money they made. He’d get over it. So would Eric.   Nothing about Hollywood and LA was fair or nice, words that Hermione seemed to be thinking of as she spoke about how she felt about the matter. “They have magazines that need filling,” Draco pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders. “Not the first time. Won’t be the last time. The show might seem to have lost most of its popularity, but with season six approaching his publicist had noted that the interest in both the show and him was slowly coming back. People didn’t seem to have forgotten. He smiled briefly at her words. “Of course you do. I’m just your co-worker. There’s no stakes involved between you and me.” She got a job that included working with him and that was that. The crew got to see the worse side of him too, during long days of shooting where they kept his scenes to the last so most others could go home, where take after take the technicals were wrong and he had to be patient even though he wasn’t. He wasn’t always nice to work with. He knew that much. But neither was anyone, though. Hermione hadn’t disappointed so far, though, and that lead Draco to ask a question he generally didn’t. “Since we’re friends and since you live nearby anyway,” that was a nice understatement, “would you like to have dinner after work sometime? You’ve been baking, so I can cook.” 

   Hermione knew that one season on a show didn’t even begin to compare to six, and if this was a frequent habit for Eric, or one that had worsened, it didn’t altogether surprise her that sometimes, Draco was over it. “He can’t push you to that or he won’t have a lead,” she said simply. Not to mention that if Draco’s voice took permanent damage as a result of Eric’s indecision. Things could escalate very quickly in that kind of situation. “So long as you’re taking care of your voice and doing what’s right for you, Eric’s just going to have to deal. He doesn’t have a show if you’re not there. None of the rest of us are big enough names to carry it.” glee had been a phenomenon because it did introduce a lot of newer actors, and still did, but six seasons in and Draco was one of the major reasons that people still tuned in to watch the show. That whoever broke the NDA was likely to stay quiet after seeing Draco’s mood as a result of it was hardly surprising, but they’d actively chosen to affect someone else’s life, potentially their mental health and their career as a direct consequence of their decision. That was the part of it that Hermione didn’t like.

   Not the first time. Won’t be the last time. That was the difference between someone new to the scene and someone who had been in LA for years, Hermione supposed, and was a big enough name to draw that kind of attention. That there was no stakes between them was true too, and Hermione not liking the fact that this had happened to him didn’t change the fact that it had. She sighed a little, but then studied Draco. “As co-workers go, you’ve been the best,” she assured him firmly, not feeling the need to mitigate the words with something more casual at all. “If I’m ever asked, that response isn’t going to change.” Nobody was perfect, but Draco always tried, and it was that effort that she’d always observed; even if it mainly seemed to switch on in front of the cameras, it extended to his interactions with everyone else too, even if after six seasons it was all old hat to him. She was greeted with the surprise of an invite to dinner right after that, and Hermione smiled at him. “I’d love to. Good company and food? How could I possibly say no to that? Thank you for asking me.”

   That Draco seemed to have unwound just a little while they were sitting there together too helped matters, because it told her that making the effort to check in on him was worthwhile. He deserved to have people who had his back. That was the thought that stayed firmly in Hermione’s head right up until everyone was once again called back to set.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  It was somewhat surprising that Hermione showed up for him and by all appearances was on his side in this slightly petty and childish temper tantrum. It shouldn’t be, though, because they did get along well, he quite liked her in fact and he supposed she liked him too. He did think that Eric was being particularly unreasonable, but the timing of it with the magazine article about him was particularly horrible. “It counts,” he offered as he sat down at the table. Before he did, he pulled a chair out for Hermione as well and smiled at her briefly, a quick come-and-go thing. It had already disappeared at the mention of Eric, which made him frown again. He leaned back against the chair, arms folding over one another. “It’s not this song specifically. It’s been six seasons of his constant changes. He can’t make up his mind, but I also can’t pre-record whatever songs he’s considering because he needs it in the right mood.” At least at Broadway there were breaks of days and understudies to do shows too. The days at glee were longer than the evenings at Broadway and Eric only made them longer with demands like that.   Despite his foul mood, he smiled briefly when Hermione declared she didn’t at all understand where the article came from and neither did those that she apparently talked to about the matter. He did appreciate her saying that. It had sort of become the elephant on set for that day and now it was gone, at least. “I’m kind to all of you,” he said. “You’ve never done anything not to deserve kindness. I respect Eric loads and he knows this. He respects me too. That’s why we can have the more difficult discussions between us. But it’s supposed to stay between us and it seems that it hasn’t.” That didn’t mean Eric leaked anything to the press, because Draco knew he wouldn’t. But Draco wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone leaking information somewhere among the cast and crew and he knew both Eric and him would think twice before saying another word now. That wasn’t a good environment to work in. He did tell Hermione, though. “This sort of thing is horrible for my reputation, though. I do want to have another job after this and it won’t look good that this comes up when any future producer tries to find me on the internet.” He sighed briefly at that and shook his head. “They’re filling magazines, that’s for sure. I’d honestly rather that it’s me than anyone else on set.” 

   The confirmation that it did count that she’d showed up and the brief but there smile cemented for Hermione that she hadn’t invaded, necessarily. Having a chair pulled out for her only confirmed that too, because if he hadn’t wanted her there at all, he wouldn’t have done that or even let her past the door. As Draco explained that it had been six seasons of these kind of changes, Hermione let out a quiet whistle, not a usual reaction for her to make. “That being the case, no wonder you’re sick of it. Anyone’s voice can only take so much, even with vocal rest days.” Vocal rest days were necessary for people in their profession to keep their voices healthy, and glee pushed that to its limits for the bigger stars, Draco especially. “Have you talked to him about this before? It sounds as though maybe you have.” For the most part, Eric seemed to take on board what Draco had to say, from how he’d described it, but as a producer he had a show that he wanted made to his vision. Sometimes, a reality check on his actors’ limits was probably needed.

   The reappearance of his smile, if again briefly, showed that maybe he had needed to hear that people didn’t think he was a bad person. It made Hermione positively want to set fire to the publication in question for saying something unnecessarily cruel to sell copies. As Draco described the situation and indicated that there was a potential leak amongst cast and crew, Hermione’s brow furrowed. “But it would need to be someone who is around both of you all the time and would be around to overhear those discussions. Has anything like this happened before?” Anyone around Eric and Draco needed to be trustworthy to be there at all, or so Hermione imagined. It made the environment tense at best, and what more Draco had to say about it made her even more bothered. “I really don’t like that one magazine article is able to influence your reputation like that. Anyone who has worked with you this season so far would easily say you’re a pleasure to work with, but I bet even that would get twisted.” The indignation was showing more plainly by now. Hearing the phrasing of I’d honestly rather it’s me than anyone else on set made her shake her head, speak far more gently. “And everyone else on set would rather it wasn’t you, ever. You don’t deserve this and you did nothing to earn it.” If anything, it felt like he was being attacked, and adding the pressure from set, it was no wonder he snapped. “All I see is someone who is insanely good at their job and always shows up.” Then she paused, corrected herself. “And somebody who got me out of a bad situation and has become a friend. How many times has this happened to you before?” It clearly wasn’t Draco’s first rodeo with the press by a long shot, but this one had worsened his mood considerably and she didn’t like seeing it.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  After a week of things tentatively looking up at set, Draco was optimistic. The new additions to the cast were very talented and fast learners. The crew knew by now not to comment on his bad habits and let him do whatever he liked as long as he showed up on time and did his work, which was exactly what he did. When he quickly had to record a song the day previous, Dorcas even remarked that he sounded better than she’d expected with the hours she knew he’d been working. The next day, however, he woke up to a call of his publicist who was about ready to sue some unimportant magazine for spreading false rumours about him. Apparently he was a diva, unfriendly to the new actors, getting increasingly harder to work with and had insane demands that others were forced to stick to. Draco couldn’t care less, told his publicist as much and appeared on set in a horrible mood regardless. Either someone had been leaking information directly from Eric (the only one he was difficult to, in his opinion, but well within his rights) or made up an entire story once he got wind of how things were looking on set. He didn’t mention it, but could tell that others could tell it wasn’t safe to approach.   A dream sequence dance number was the planning of the day. After doing it twice, Draco could inevitably conclude that it wasn’t well-rehearsed enough. Remus’ face expression told the tale of that too, easy to read after five years of working with him. While it got on his nerves, Draco didn’t let it show and silently obliged to Remus’ suggestions for the number, following the steps and attending the impromptu rehearsal. They were barely through the fourth take of it when Eric approached with the news that they changed the song for tomorrow’s scene again and that he should go past Dorcas after shooting to get it done. That was too much.  “Why can’t you just make up your mind about your song choices and your dialogue?” he snapped at Eric. “I can’t keep recording whatever you want at a minute’s notice. My voice isn’t going to hold up. It’ll be gone before the season it out and it’s not even a full season! Make up your mind and stop bothering me with your indecision!” He decided that was the perfect time for a break as he stormed off to his trailer.     It took a couple of minutes before someone inevitably knocked on the door of his trailer. Draco opened the door slowly, expecting Eric, only to be met with Hermione. He frowned at the sight of her. “Did they send you because they thought you might not be subjected to the wrath of my bad mood, since I sort of like you?” he questioned as he let her in. “I’m not picky when I’m in a bad mood.” It was a promise based on nothing, though, and he knew himself well enough to know he would not to take out his bad mood on Hermione. “I assume everyone by now heard?” he asked as he sat back down and gestured for Hermione to do the same. About the magazine publication, indeed. 

   Hermione could only conclude that if there was ever a day for people not to mess with Draco, it was today, because his mood was like a stormcloud that anyone paying attention could spot from a mile off. It meant that he was being given a certain amount of space on the set, but Hermione’s immediate emotion wasn’t one of avoidance, but of concern. Once she caught that a magazine story about diva behaviour and Draco being hard to work with, though, she was annoyed on his behalf. Other people seemed to agree it was nonsense, but weren’t exactly lining up to go and tell Draco as much and that he was valued. She felt that needed fixing, and that he deserved to know that people were in his corner. If anything, Draco had been a completely positive influence, the complete opposite of what had been said. What kind of negative influence learned the favourite snacks of the new cast, after all, and got them for them, or encouraged them when a routine was especially challenging? The portrayal of him as some kind of l’enfant terrible didn’t fit the narrative that had been true since she arrived on set.

   That was what was on her mind until Draco finally seemed to snap, and Eric was ultimately the cause. It was another song change, another strain on Draco’s voice from having to hit huge notes on the regular, and when he finally lost patience, Hermione could only watch as he exited to go to his trailer. Everyone exchanged wide-eyed glances and uh-oh was the entire mood tangible in the air after that, because Draco and Eric butting heads didn’t bode well for the remainder of the rehearsal for the dream sequence. There was a short, awkward silence before Remus told everyone to take five, and everyone started to wander off, but Hermione didn’t do the same. Instead, she went for where the trailers were at, identified Draco’s, and knocked. That he let her in was a good sign, but the question of whether others thought she’d avoid the wrath because he sort of liked her, Hermione offered him a soft smile. “No, I sent myself in case you could use someone to vent to about people being idiots until you feel a bit better. Does that count?” A little presumptuous, maybe, but someone who snapped like that didn’t only have one thing on their mind; it was just that moment happened to be the final straw. “I noticed that you very much weren’t okay with things out there. How many times has Eric changed that song now?” It might not be the most relevant source of frustration, but it had certainly contributed and Draco deserved someone to listen to his side of things.

   On the declaration that he wasn’t picky when he was in a bad mood, Hermione could only conclude that Draco wasn’t likely to do anything about it or lash out at her. He never had before, and that was enough for her to trust that he wouldn’t. “The article has been mentioned and people are aware, but anyone who’s mentioned it doesn’t understand where it came from. You’ve been nice to everyone. You got us snacks on some ridiculously hard set days and you helped us when we needed it without ever saying a word of criticism. It’s such revolting nonsense that someone would even send such a thing to print.” The disgust in her voice must have shown, and she shook her head. “You’re a wonderful human being from what I know of you. You’ve always been kind. I can’t even comprehend why someone would do this. To me, it reads like a ‘mysterious source’ was made up to stir things.” Tabloids were known to do that, apparently, another fact that had been made clear.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  Dealing with co-stars was always a tricky business from Draco’s experience. He’d seen a lot of people come and go on the glee set during the last five years. Some he got along with well, others not so much. Some of them even made the idiotic decision to date each other, impacting the entire atmosphere and bringing problems to the table when it inevitably went wrong.  “You have to get a bit lucky with your co-stars, I think,” Draco said. “Pansy and I hit it off since the first audition round. Our chemistry was so good that the directors soon realized they had both their lead roles filled.” Working on chemistry was in their case utterly unnecessarily. It had been easy for Eric to cast Pansy as a result, since that didn’t go away at all. “But not everyone is as nice, I think. So it’s nice to have a producer that actually listens to you when you have concerns.” He briefly glanced in Eric’s direction then. Draco was well-aware that the general opinion about Eric was that he was scary, especially when focused, but that was only the outside exterior.    It seemed that glee was Hermione’s intro to stardom. As much as Draco didn’t want to think of himself as some Hollywood star he’d certainly become one and she may be too. “The moment you show your face on tv, whatever you do is everyone’s business,“ he told her candidly. “It may not be in the contracts, but it’s what you’ve signed up for.“ The new cast was all so new to this part of the entertainment world, so it was going to be a ride. One they got to take together, at least. “Savory,“ he easily decided in reply to the question about snacks and was fast to move on from it. “You do know how to bake a lot of stuff, from the sound of it. I’m pretty sure people will love them, honestly. Way to make friends with everyone too.“ He smirked briefly at that, already imagining how much the crew would love her for putting in so much effort. “Maybe you could bribe Eric in being a little more chill with some chocolade cupcakes,“ he added, eyeing the producer speculatively, then chuckling. 

   Hearing that co-stars were sometimes about luck left Hermione to nod. “I know a little about that. If you don’t get along with people, everyone knows it because everyone practically lives in each other’s pockets on tour. Set really doesn’t seem that much different in that respect.” In theatre, they had to be able to pull together quickly at each new venue and adjust to any changes to the new space without drama getting in the way. That hadn’t changed much. “That sounds amazing though, for your chemistry to click so well with someone right away. It’s not surprising the two of you caught attention given that. Do you think you’ll work together again in the future?” Chemistry could be acted and worked on, but having the real thing between two people was a special sort of magic on its own when it came to playing it on stage. When there was a glance in Eric’s direction once Draco described a producer who listened, Hermione had to conclude that there was a very different relationship between someone with a lead role and the producer, and someone in a minor role. “Must be nice to know you have the option. Less good if you’ve ever had to, though. People should behave professionally when they’re working.” And definitely not drag their personal feelings or prejudices into it. She’d been there on a couple of occasions and didn’t relish the memory, because how she felt had been swept under the carpet.

   The moment you show your face on TV, whatever you do is everyone’s business. That was something that Hermione hadn’t really applied to herself before, simply because she wasn’t a big name. Now, she took into account just how many people actually watched glee. “I guess I’ll see what people say once they’ve seen my acting, then, just like everyone else,” she said, considering it. “I’m hoping they’ll focus on the character rather than my complete lack of a personal life. Do people just hunt for scandal or something?” She hardly dated, and her only ex-boyfriend of note was still one of her friends. There really was nothing to find. Once Draco smirked at her again and confirmed that savoury was the way to go for him, Hermione smiled a little. “I’ll figure something different out for you, in that case,” she promised him. The smirk and the reminder that baking was a way to make friends was enough to make her decide then and there to actually do it. “I just need to get a headcount on the crew so everyone gets some. I need to include the camera guys and sound techs too.” Hearing that maybe she could bribe Eric into relaxing, Hermione nearly choked on the rest of her peanut butter bar, chuckled afterwards herself. “I think maybe we’ll see if chocolate works miracles, in that case, because that man is focused and it’s as inspiring as it is terrifying,” she declared, grinning in Draco’s direction. “You seem like you know him well by now. Does he ever really switch off, or is it constant?” There was a bit of amusement there still, mainly over Draco implying that he needed to chill in the first place.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  Draco completely understood the need for sugar on days like these. Every take had to be like the first take. Not just in terms of steps or lip-syncing, but also in the amount of energy that showed. They set their own standard, so if someone overdid it on the first take they had an interesting day ahead of themselves. It was a lesson he learned relatively early on and the new cast would have to get used to. “Well, whatever works, right?” he said. “I really do prefer Broadway in that respect. We had meals together before shows a lot of the time. Helpful, really, because if Pansy ate something that required mints so did I, so neither of us would keel over coming nearby the other.” Grinning, he explained: “Pansy played my love interest. Or I played hers, depending on context. There was making out involved.” That truly wasn’t the full extent of it, but the point was food and making out. At least the current glee scripts had no making out in them yet. Draco wondered what Eric intended to do about that, since according to the main producer of the show a high school drama needed romance. “Not always,” he said lightly to the question about the carrots. “I was in the mood for carrots.”    In a way, he missed living with Justin. He certainly missed having the other around on set. Justin was one of a kind for sure. This was an entirely different set of people, though, almost as if he was on a completely different show now. “We didn’t really entertain the news of us living together,” he replied. “People had crazy ideas about us dating for years without that knowledge.” That may have something to do with their characters too, Draco reckoned. During the Spring Awakening period there’d been the assumption he was dating Pansy and during early seasons glee there’d been Justin. He was straight, though, and Pansy certainly wasn’t. Asked about his favourite snack, he grinned briefly. “I don’t have one,” he said as he chewed on another carrot. “I am open for suggestions on the matter. Do you just bake the -” He paused as he thought about how to put it, grey eyes studying Hermione, Draco frowning. “The cupcakes were amazing. What other stuff do you bake? I might brag to the others and they’ll come knocking on your door begging them for.” He smirked briefly. “Not to say you have to, though. It just seems like something you enjoy. It might be nice to share with more people.”

   When Draco mentioned that he preferred Broadway over set in terms of handling meals, Hermione listened, interested in the snippet of experience that he could provide on this one. Being able to eat dinner with your immediate co-star was of a certainty a bonus, but the comment about keeling over made her frown briefly in confusion, clearing the minute that Draco explained. “Ah, then it would make no difference if both of you ate what you liked on that so long as there were mints after. Garlic would not be welcome onstage,” she registered, grinning right after. “Bet it’s hell on earth when someone doesn’t bother.” She made a disgusted face at that. “I’ve heard stories where it didn’t go quite so nicely as it did between you and Pansy. I guess that’s the advantage of working with someone you like.” When Draco lightly declared that he was in the mood for carrots, Hermione nodded and let the matter go. Maybe that’s just how he prefers to snack, on whatever the mood strikes with. Something about it would nag at the back of her mind later, though, a mystery without an answer.

   Draco explaining that people had had crazy ideas about him dating Justin made Hermione examine him. “It figures,” she said with a sigh. “Honestly, that just sounds like a complete pain. Why is it anyone’s business who you’re together with or not, male or female, unless you choose to say so? It baffles me.” As Draco grinned and proceeded to state that he didn’t have a favourite snack, Hermione eyed him speculatively. “This just makes me want to get you to try different snacks with me each breaktime so you can find one you love,” she said, a light chuckle following. “Do you prefer a savoury or sweet snack?” That at least ought to narrow it down a little bit, maybe. Then she was being studied, and as had been the case before, having the full level of Draco Malfoy’s eyes on her wasn’t without effect. “I bake other things as well. There’s some stuff that’s a signature from home, like bread pudding, but I can also make a fancier cakes, doughnuts and things like that when I’m in the mood. Cinnamon rolls, too.” That was when she paused, realising it sounded like she lived on sugar alone. “I do also make stuff that’s not dessert. I’m just pleased you liked the cupcakes, honestly. Any flavour requests?” That was when she was smirked at, and she laughed. “I’ll make a batch and see if anyone takes to them. They might not, you know. It might just be you stuck with my baking.” Her eyes danced then, amused as she regarded him, and it was in that moment that she was reminded to actually eat the unwrapped snack in her hand, almost forgotten in her enjoyment of talking to him.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  The season opener episode ended with a big group number that included all the new characters. Eric wasted no time in the script to establish Joel’s failure, torture him with the consequences and get him a new job as glee club director, where he immediately had his hands full with a new and ambitious core group of students in the club. Only human seemed only fitting as a group number and thankfully, Draco’s voice was only featured up until the first chorus, as though Joel was leading the group to show them how it was done and the others following his perfectly set example.  It was a long song with multiple flashbacks and flashes to new characters in the montage, so they had to perform the entire thing including the stand-out moments from every character and do them the same over and over. It made for a very long day on set. The least Draco could do during a break was to get everyone their favoured snacks.   How he knew which they were was a bit of a running joke by now. He accidentally guessed right what Hermione’s favourite snack was (he’d been standing by the snack station with his phone and handed her something without thinking, which turned out to be right) and continued that lucky streak with a few others. When he returned from the snack station and distributed the snacks by person, he was met with a volley of appreciation and thanks. Rather than disappear to his trailer, which he usually did during his breaks, he invited himself to sit next to Hermione and handed her the favoured peanut butter granola bar. “And one for you,” he said dryly as he opened his small bag of baby carrots and chewed on the first one for a couple of seconds. My old roommate Justin used to go crazy for the salads. He had on every day without fail for months. We we’re at the point where no one had to ask what he wanted. When he did as much as look hungry they’d go and get it for him. He was about the nicest person imaginable on the set, though.” He’d also often share his salad with Draco when they came across each other. “Hannah, on the other hand, eats anything that has chocolate in it.” He mock-shuddered, well aware Hermione would meet Hannah soon.  “I do know this: if you distributed your cupcakes on set, no one would even eye the snack station. Did you ever bake for your co-workers at your other job?” 

   Filming Only Human was proving to be a full on, sixteen hour day kind of process, because of all the standout solo shots and different angles. Everyone was getting used to having to repeat things, but this was an extreme case of it just because the song was so long and Eric was being so exacting about getting it right. It meant that Draco was officially everyone’s favourite person when he showed up with snacks, and Hermione smiled a private but tired smile to herself. It only grew when instead of going back to his trailer, understandable given how much noise and activity was around set, Draco proceeded to sit himself next to her and pass her favourite snack over. “Thank you, you’re wonderful,” she said, taking the bar with gratitude and beginning to open it. “I know these aren’t the best for me as a constant habit, but they do keep me on my feet. I eat small meals but protein heavy on dance rehearsal and performance days. Do you normally snack on vegetables?” She’d learned from being in an ensemble nightly; because the ensemble typically did more dancing than the main cast, it was eat correctly to fuel her body or keel over on show days.

   She caught sight of the carrots and while she didn’t judge the choice, she did wonder if they wouldn’t be better with a dip of some kind. It didn’t seem enough to her, but everyone’s appetite was different. Still, it lingered, only distracted by the way that Draco talked about Justin. Justin Finch-Fletchley, she realised belatedly, who had played the head cheerleader turned Yale student on the show. “I never knew that was your roommate. Must have been nice to have someone around who understood all the crazy around here, right? Sounds like a sweetheart.” The words were delivered with a smile. “I guess all three of you like very different things, in that case. What is your favourite snack? You somehow have the superpower of knowing everyone’s.” That Draco knew all of theirs and they didn’t know his seemed unfair to him somehow. When he mentioned her cupcakes, though, Hermione grinned a little. “I did when we stayed somewhere with a proper kitchen on the Mamma Mia tour. It was harder on tour in general because sometimes it was a hotel covered by the tour management, so no kitchen, other times it was an apartment and we were left to sort it out ourselves.” Expression turning contemplative, she asked, “Do you think I should make a few batches and bring them in?” She liked her co-workers, and thanks to Draco, this job came with the luxury of a proper kitchen.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  Draco didn’t think he was the only person in the cast, or even in the vicinity, that had the bad habit of overthinking, but admitting it aloud was something else entirely. Maybe admitting the problem aloud meant it was easier to deal with. Hermione was dealing with it, clearly, since she’d found her favoured way to wind down. “Well, I’m happy here is better than with your nightmare roommates,” he said easily. In order to focus on her work she needed to be able to wind down and her focus would probably make his job easier too. He wasn’t sure if that made him nice, but she seemed happy and comfortable in that assessment. When asked about the earplugs he shook his head slowly, a tentative thing. “No,” he said. “Eric’s assistant sent me a bunch of audio files. Whenever they’re considering a number of songs, they tend to let me know so I can get acquainted with them. Sometimes that works out.” Eric was someone that almost everyone was intimidated with and realistically only Draco was on equal footing with him. He was the one to be afraid of during the casting process and everyone was warned about as much, so seeing him on set wasn’t easy. Draco had struggled with it at first too.   Louisiana certainly was something else to Los Angeles, Draco thought when Hermione mentioned it. He gathered that she was from the South, but the mention of Louisiana really narrowed that down. It was a state that Draco thought of when he watched old movies that took place there. “I’m from Massachusetts myself. We lived nearby Boston.” That was as Northern East Coast as it could be, he felt. It was also conveniently nearby New York City. When asked about Broadway, he smiled briefly. “It was the dream,” he admitted then. “I was fresh out of high school and eager to take a chance and I got my shot. Hard work isn’t hard when the people around you make it so easy.” He’d met Pansy there, of course, his non-romantic soulmate, and his career got kick-started from there onwards. “It was nice to be in an environment where the thing we all had in common was our shared love for theatre. Most of us truly were still kids wanting to perform.” And that they did. “National tours sound pretty great too, though. People don’t have to travel to come and see you that way. What shows did you do?” When asked if he would go back to New York, he frowned as he thought about it. “I’m not sure if there’s anything left for me,” he said. “Home sounds more appealing. Boston, maybe. But I’ll be here for a while longer first.”  

      Hermione could only conclude that this conversation felt surprisingly comfortable. Not surprising to her, but maybe surprising from the point of view of someone looking at them. They were very different in that Draco’s talent and success were both long-established facts in the entertainment industry. The only place most people probably thought they would talk was the set, but Draco was a lot more than any kind of reputation could possibly suggest. When Draco shook his head and proceeded to confirm that he’d been listening to music for work, Hermione studied him. Personally, she’d found Eric terrifying during the audition process, because it was fact that the man had a second to none poker face (putting it nicely). Draco was the only one who really challenged him, but realistically, without Draco there wouldn’t have been a show. “So more work,” she concluded, offering a sympathetic smile. “I hope in that case that there’s songs amongst the choices that you like.” Really, she thought the person doing the majority of the showstopping numbers with big notes would get to call what was best for his voice, but she supposed that was the theatre mindset still lingering.

   Once Draco said that he was from nearby Boston, Hermione smiled. “It’s nice, that area. Must have been a good place to grow up.” And only a few hours out of New York, whereas for her it was much further. Seeing him smile when he talked about Broadway confirmed for her that it had been a good part of his life. “Sounds like you really loved it, or at least had the right people there with you to make it that way,” she said, trying not to make judgements as such, but unable to draw any other conclusion. “I was one of those kids too, if without the huge Broadway debut.” She let slip with an appreciative grin at that, knowing that Draco deserved the success he’d worked for. “I do love that national tours make theatre more accessible to a wider range of people,” she agreed. “Not everyone can afford the trip. I did three. I started on the national tour for Mamma Mia, just in the ensemble. After that, I was in the ensembles for Evita and Wicked on the tours as well.” That she’d done two musicals with very popular, modern music out of the three didn’t escape her, but those were just the ones that she’d had the luck of the draw on. When Draco declared his intention to maybe head home, that made Hermione examine him too. She understood wanting to go home, more than she wanted to admit. Homesickness was an ache she was getting used to. “Sometimes there’s no place like home. For now, these cupcakes are as close as I’m getting to Louisiana for probably a long while, so please feel free to come eat as many as you want.” It was an easy welcome to give, because he was easy to talk to.

   When they eventually parted ways, Hermione found that she didn’t regret knocking on the door of the nearby house at all. Draco might be a star on a scale she couldn’t fathom, but he was also human, and the more glimpses of that she got, the better she liked him.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  How did Draco become of course the first person Hermione thought of when she baked cupcakes? That should be a bigger mystery than it really was, since Draco reckoned it was convenience. He was nearby. Literally just one house away from her. “Well, you’re rather good at it,” he confirmed his earlier conclusion after another small bite of the cupcake, which he chewed on thoughtfully. “It’s good that you have a hobby that clearly helps you wind down.” He could really use one of those, he thought. Singing and dancing used to do it, but now that turned into his job. Now those were the things he needed to wind down from. He wasn’t a baked goods person, though, so he suggested nothing. “Your old roommates truly are missing out. If they treated you better they might have gotten homemade cupcakes.” Now she should share them with the cast and crew, Draco really thought. He was only going to have one.    He remembered how overwhelming LA could be. Draco had been immensely glad for the hotel room, that he could close, turn off his phone and laptop alike and do whatever he wanted without any distractions, either the noise or people needing something from him. He lived with Pansy in New York City, but New York was something entirely different. “Where are you from originally?” he queried. “I’m from a smaller town myself too. I moved to New York for Spring Awakening on Broadway. That’s where the glee producers found me and asked me to audition as the show’s run ended.” The rest, as people said, was history. Three auditions and five seasons later and they were here. “New York is much kinder in my experience. Less selfish. In New York it’s a lot easier to make friends than here.”

   Nearby though Draco may be, he was also the person who had actually been nice to Hermione without there being anything involved in return. She wouldn’t even have been able to afford the rent of one room in a place like she had now if it hadn’t been for Draco, and she didn’t forget that in a hurry. It wasn’t about owing, but it was about recognising a good person when she ran into one. It was something she liked to see, that he was enjoying it, and not just to be polite. “It does. It also forces me to concentrate on what I’m doing and only on what I’m doing, instead of overthinking.” It was a blessing in disguise after days at the set, because it felt like the ideal way to shut down her thoughts for a while. Hearing that her old roommates were missing out made her chuckle. “I’m not missing them, though, so they can continue missing out. You’re much nicer.” That was when she paused in realisation, registered the earplugs that Draco had removed. She’d interrupted relaxation time (or so she hoped, given he was home). It was too late to time it better now, so instead, she asked, “Were you enjoying what you were listening to?”

   When Draco asked where she was from, Hermione smiled a little. “Shreveport, Louisiana,” she said, and the lingering trace of Southern accent came out more vividly as she spoke the words, always present but more prevalent when talking about home was involved or she was around other people with the same accent. “How about you?” When Draco proceeded to state that he’d done work on Broadway, Hermione’s eyes widened a little. “See, I’ve never done a Broadway show yet,” she admitted frankly. “I did a few national tours with musicals in the ensemble and as an understudy for the lead on the most recent one. Then I did a couple small TV jobs." Examining Draco interestedly, she asked, “What was it like, being on Broadway?” For a lot of people, it was the dream, but Hermione was also willing to bet it was seriously hard work. Since Glee happened, she had to wonder how often anyone asked him that any more. Hearing that New York was kinder made her expression soften a little. “It sounds like a great place. It also sounds like you prefer it over LA. Would you go back there someday, if you got the chance?” Could she blame him for that, really? She didn’t hate LA, but it definitely didn’t match her personality, outgoing and focused though she could be.

[onesandzcros]

Draco·:

  Draco knew that he’d given the keys of his guest house to one of his co-stars. He’d realized what was going on and he’d offered her an out of a situation that didn’t sound to be benefiting her at all. That was also the extent of it, because they didn’t see each other unless they were at work, which was where they would see each other anyway. It didn’t make a change in the slighest to his life, but he knew it had been significant for hers. There were worse things than to be kind, Draco thought. Set life and therefore life continued as usual, with Eric making last-minute changes that had Draco sigh to himself and roll his eyes when the producer wasn’t looking, but he made the best of it and rested his voice as much as he could knowing what was still to come in the recording booth.   He was listening through songs on his phone through earplugs. Earlier that day, when he was still on set, a producer’s assistent e-mailed him an audio file with songs they were considering for future episodes. Knowing how much changed in the process, though, Draco had genuinely wondered if it made any sense at all to put effort in it at all. He decided to listen through them once and that was exactly what he was doing when someone (Hermione, he was aware) knocked on his back door. When he opened, he was met with a slightly messy version of Hermione Granger, notably flour on one of her arms, holding out a tin with cupcakes. He stared at her. “Hi,” he said slowly. “You made cupcakes and are looking to share them.” She said she would. He knew that. He just didn’t think she actually would. He personally had energy for nothing after days on set. Rather than invite her in, he stepped outside and paused the music on his earplugs before he pulled them out. “Things are fine,” he said absent-mindedly as he eyed the tin and pressed his lips together briefly as he thought before he picked a vanllia cupcake. He took a bite immediately and frowned at it. “You’re good at baking,” he concluded. “Or at least at baking these cupcakes. This one is really good.” It made him take another bite immediately before he replied. “Are you adjusting better to LA life now that you have a home that suits you better? I moved from New York to here and it took me forever to adjust despite coming from another busy city,” he recalled.

   Hermione couldn’t tell if Draco was surprised that she followed through on the comment that she’d made to him before she moved in (and she did remember it), or if he was just unused to having things made for him in general that were homemade. Either way, she was glad that she’d come over to see him, because surprised or not, it did give her some insight that she hadn’t had before. Plus, there really was no use in making cupcakes only for herself, there was much more joy in sharing good things. It was something that her upbringing had left her with. “I did,” she confirmed with a grin. “And of course, the first person I thought of was you. I find baking therapeutic.” It was true enough, because it reminded her of her parents’ small kitchen and home. “If you like other things too, though, feel free to mention. I’ll try my hand at almost anything.”

   Draco seemed to pause before taking a cupcake, but not quite long enough for Hermione to read what it meant. When he took a vanilla one and bit into it, she waited and smiled when he seemed to enjoy it. “Glad you like it. I used to make a lot of stuff back home, so I couldn’t resist when you let me have such a nice kitchen to work in.” When the question followed about LA, Hermione considered it. “Having such a wonderfully safe and quiet space to come home to helps a lot when everything feels noisy and overwhelming. You gave me a gift the day you handed me my key,” she admitted without hesitation. “I’m still adjusting so I think it’s going to take me longer too, albeit I come from somewhere smaller and I don’t get much time to call home at the moment. How did you end up here from New York originally, if you don’t mind me asking?” Hermione had only been once, but it left a big impression, because it was the kind of city that moved a hundred miles per hour and always seemed alive.

[onesandzcros]

   Hermione had been in her house for a couple of weeks, and her relaxation levels had improved in immediate correlation. She was sleeping better, she was eating better, and having a soft, comfortable place to crash into that had no scent apart from freshly washed bedsheets was heaven. Thank everything that existed for the generous nature of Draco Malfoy, a thought which had lingered with her, for the simple fact that she hadn’t actually seen much of him at all given how close together they were. Draco’s house wasn’t far from the guesthouse, necessarily, just not close enough for noise to easily transfer. They left at different times each day, both typically the first on set still, but now for much better reasons than needing to escape home on Hermione’s part. It meant that she got to observe Draco a lot more, and take in that while physically he was always present, whether at home or at work, mentally engaged was something that seemed reserved for key moments only, energy that he didn’t spend on everything.

It meant that when Hermione got done baking the one day that they were done with filming at a reasonable time, she glanced down at the kitchen mess and concluded that she’d gone very overboard. Subconsciously, she’d been thinking of the person who had given her this safe space when she made them, and that meant the only logical thing to do was share.  The decision Hermione outside with a tin full of the cupcakes, lid on, and that left her with a free hand to knock the door (and a missed streak of flour on one of her arms, unnoticed). When it was answered, Hermione smiled and held up the tin. “Hey,” she greeted him. “I know LA doesn’t really do the neighbourly thing, but I was baking, so I figured I’d try anyway. There’s chocolate and vanilla cupcakes in here. The chocolate has caramel in the middle and the vanilla has strawberry.” That was when she offered the tin outwards in Draco’s direction, a gesture he was welcome to refuse if they weren’t to his taste. “How have things been with you?” She liked Draco, he was kind, therefore he got cake. It was logical math in Hermione’s head.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  Draco just wanted to get home and hit the shower, truth be told. The insane amount of dancing for the show meant he had to keep in shape during the part of the year when they didn’t shoot so he was in decent shape still, but he still didn’t remotely enjoy having to get into his car and drive home while smelling like sweat and effort. He did enjoy the dancing, though, so that made up for it a bit. Now he had a conversation to get through first, that he initiated himself no less. Hermione deserved better. Apparently he was better. “It’s not obvious. Not in the slightest,” he was quick to reassure her. “I’m known for being the one that’s on set the most. But now you’re always around, so that stands out.” The reason was having nowhere else pleasant to go, Draco reasoned out. The others wouldn’t have noticed since they weren’t around either. “You shouldn’t have to be around those people. Now you don’t have to be.” It sounded simple. To him, it was. He showed as much by getting a set of keys from his bag and taking a key from the keychain to hand over to her. “There. The key to your new home. I’ll text you the address. You can move in today if you like.”    He was sure that Hermione didn’t need anything much from a house. By the sound of it she lived in a house or apartment with roommates, plural, that were ruining the shared spaces for her. The guest house may be smaller than a regular LA house, but it did its job very nicely. Pansy had lived there too when they were shooting for season two with her character’s inevitable return. By now she had her own house in LA. “Well, you have your own kitchen and bathroom and a swimming pool to use if you want to, so you may have to indulge a bit,” he replied playfully. “Someone should use it, honestly.” He was hardly home himself and of course never spent any time in the guest house. He shook his head on her question about bad roommates. “No, but I lived out of a hotel the first month here and then shared a place with another cast member. After the first season I got the place I live in now.” He smiled briefly at her words about not hearing anything of her. “It would be strange if I did, considering the space between the house and the guest house,” he said. “Don’t be afraid to knock on the back door if you need anything, though.”

   That Draco was kinder to her than anyone had been since she left home didn’t escape Hermione. It wasn’t that others hadn’t been kind, but they hadn’t offered a hand out to help when she needed it. They hadn’t noticed. The reassurance that followed helped a little, to know that she wasn’t completely wearing it on her sleeve how uncomfortable her living situation was. No, it just made it clearer that Draco was nothing if not very observant. “You’re on the set the most because you work the hardest, though,” she observed quietly. Draco and his character were the centre of the show, and there was no one who could say otherwise, nor should they. Hearing that she had the choice not to be around her poor excuse for roommates any longer was enough to make Hermione exhale in a way she hadn’t felt able to for weeks. Being handed a key was like a physical manifestation of the relief she felt, and after a moment’s hesitation only, she took it and grinned brightly. “I might just take you up on that.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “But, maybe after I shower first. Remus and his assistant definitely don’t go easy, it reminded me of being back in dance class, actually. Or back in theatre. Are the group numbers always like that?” Strenuous and boisterous and fun, but exhausting, was her thought on them.

   Draco’s tone turned playful, and Hermione had to conclude that she liked that on him. It was a nice sound to hear. As he proceeded to list off that the house had its own kitchen, bathroom and pool, however, her eyes briefly went wide. “That is definitely not what I’m used to. You weren’t kidding when you said guest house. That’s insane. And amazing.” No, Hermione was not at all used to houses with pools. “Honestly, I might be most excited about the kitchen where my food will stay unstolen. Unless you need something, in which case, knock the door and I’ll happily give you milk or sugar or whatever it is neighbours do. Is that a thing in LA?” It was very much a small town thing, but LA seemed a bit more selfish in that respect. As Draco described his early years, Hermione nodded briefly on the statement of having lived out of a hotel for a bit. She felt like a lot of people who first arrived in LA did that until they managed to secure an apartment or until their apartments were ready, so it made sense. “Would you choose LA to live in, if you didn’t work here?” she asked, a little curious. His previous remarks on the matter had made her wonder, but she wasn’t sure if it crossed the line. She did want to know to try and figure out if LA was somewhere that she could handle long-term, and Draco’s opinion had gently nudged its way into mattering to her. The kind offer to knock on his door if she needed anything only cemented that this was a person she should value, and Hermione smiled. “I will. Same to you, though. If you like anything baked, cake or cookies or whatnot, I’m usually making something. You’re more than welcome to any supply of those things you like, honestly. This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Help, when she was in a difficult situation, not to be underestimated.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  By the time the first choreography session of the season came around, Draco’s mind wasn’t on dancing at all. Their main choreographer, Remus, asked him to come in early so they could go over some standard eight-step dance moves. According to Remus if he made sure he got the standard dance moves right, he could skip a lot on choreography since the new actors had to learn everything from the start. They were in the middle of a reminder session, with Remus doing it once then Draco copying, when the rest came in and worked with Remus’ assistent at the other half of the studio first to warm them up. It was at that point that Draco glanced aside at Hermione and contemplated yet again if he should say something. Her questions about LA upon their first meeting seemed to be the least of her problems in regard to her living situation if the hours she kept at set were anything to go by. She might be at set more than him, which was saying something considering the hours he usually had to pull. Eric declared it professional interest, but Draco sincerely doubted it started and ended at just that.   Remus had to keep him sharp more than usual, something that earned him a few side-along glances and a question where his head was at, but Draco easily blamed the hours kept on set, as one did. Soon enough the track of their recording sounded through the studio and Draco joined the others for the official choreography of the first group number. It was of course a slower process than usual with everyone else getting to know Remus, his teaching style and the speed of the steps. When the session came to an end Draco was more than eager to drag himself to his car and go home, but as he exited the studio he just caught a remark that Hermione made to another one of their co-stars about hanging out in the city afterwards. That did it. He’d been new to LA too and had literally the rest of the cast to help him out. He needed to be that person for her, too. That meant he approached and asked to talk. As the others passed by and left, leaving them alone in the corridor, he spoke. “I have a guest house,” he said softly. “It’s been completely renovated three years ago, has about every luxury you can imagine and it’s empty. It’s a shame that it’s empty. I know you have a place, but -” That was where he paused and briefly took her in, unsure how to put it. “You don’t seem happy in that place. We work long hours, so when we finally go home we should be happy to go home. You don’t have to take it. It’s just an offer in case you want or need it.”

   Going out, noise and rude people was how Draco Malfoy had summarised LA for Hermione, and so far, (dis)courtesy of her roommates, the last one had proven to be particularly true. She’d bitten her tongue and said nothing, but she’d compensated for it by her continual absences from the apartment (and making sure there was a sturdy lock on her bedroom door). It was a nightmare situation that she drowned out with the dream and hard work that was being on the Glee set. That was a place that she loved to be for as long as she could, because there, she could get some peace in between the work. The first group choreography number was something that required concentration for Hermione to get the moves right, but it was an amazing experience, just like everything else on set had been. That she looked tired was a remark that one of her castmates made, and she shrugged it off and made a remark about heading into the city after work.

   She still lingered in the hallway as they exited, in the habit of it by now, but what she hadn’t expected was to be met with Draco asking to talk. What he asked left her floored, simply because he’d noticed the hallmarks that no one else did enough to ask that question. “That’s incredibly kind. Thank you, Draco,” she said softly in return, eyes on his face, thinking that her first assessment of him had been right. He was genuinely nice, and even if it wasn’t noticed that he was doing it, he looked out for people. The surprise must have shown, and she lowered her voice even further. “I’d be silly to refuse an offer like that, I’m just shocked that somebody picked up on it. Is it insanely obvious?” She made a face then. “My roommates aren’t very nice, honestly. It’s like living with children who haven’t learned personal hygiene yet and live in a cloud of weed smoke and bad music. Getting home after work to find all my food eaten because someone got the munchies isn’t the best either. Being here is better.” That felt too much like complaining when she had the privilege to be on set, though. That was when she smiled at him outright, the relief in it probably obvious. “I don’t need much by way of luxury, but honestly, I’m unbelievably grateful for the offer, and gladly accept.” That was when she studied him, gaze warm. “Did you ever have bad roommates, back in day? I promise you won’t hear anything out of me being nearby.” She couldn’t have issues with other people making huge amounts of noise and not be courteous towards the person who just offered her an out, after all.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  It had almost been a month since the Battle by Riverrun. The wounds had healed and everything had returned to its usual pace. Draco knew realistically that he was hiding out in his uncle’s stronghold and probably couldn’t stay forever, but venturing outside seemed to be a bad course of action was well. He was wanted in the South. He was wanted in the North. The only safe place, perhaps other than Castle Black, was Riverrun and Riverrun was easily the more appealing option. When a raven arrived Draco assumed it to be for Astoria, since she was writing with some guy that she met at Castle Black, but when he had the common sense to check the name it was addressed to himself. He was alone in their chambers, Astoria out to help Rodolphus with something and Percy as ever entertaining himself with books, and Draco figured there was no harm done in reading a letter he was sent. He could not have been more wrong.   When Astoria returned a little later, Draco didn’t respond to her greeting or anything that followed. He was sat on an armchair near the fireplace staring in front of himself, hardly seeing anything, and in an ultimate attempt to communicate gestured towards the table, where the letter was laying still. It may have been addressed to Draco Malfoy, but the letter had been to someone not quite him: Harry Potter’s husband.   Husband dearest,   It’s been too long. Now I know where you are. There is something to be said about seeking the shelter of a pack of wolves. For me the challenge is to kill them all so I can get you alone. I don’t like sharing what’s mine, Draco. You know this. I will come for you. All the way to Riverrun, if I have to. I’ll bring my hounds, I’ll bring my men and I’ll take Riverrun, if I have to. And when I do, I’ll kill them all. Your family members. Your allies. And you’ll get to watch. And then, in the end, I’ll take you home, I’ll do with you whatever I want to, and when I’m done with you too, my hounds will get to have you. They’ll be hungry by that time. Very hungry. As am I.    Unless, of course, you handed yourself in and I won’t have to lay a hand on anyone else that you care about. I got to Theo, after all. You have no power here. I can do whatever I want. Because I care about you, I am giving you the choice. Come to me now or watch everyone you still care about die. Let me know. I miss you so.   Lord of Winterfell, Harry Potter    Ron Weasley was child’s play in comparison to Harry Potter and Draco would know. Ron’s cruelty was impulsive, often based on what he wanted and formerly didn’t get. Harry’s cruelty was calculated and specifically aimed. Draco turned his head just enough to see Astoria read and sighed to himself. “I think we should move,” he said. “He clearly knows we’re here.”

   Astoria had left Draco in their room at Riverrun that day to go and help Rodolphus reorganise some areas of the fortress with a view to making them more secure. The man had a mind like a steel trap and she could do nothing but admire that fact. Learning from him was a privilege and she looked upon it as such. Nonetheless, when the time had come to return to Draco, Astoria had been pleased and ready to resume what had become her favourite part of her days in past month. Having someone to return to was something that she hadn’t had in years and now couldn’t get enough of. They typically spent dinner with the others, and then their evening was theirs, most often spent quietly together after supper. It meant that when she entered their room, she greeted him softly. “Evening,” she said, but when he barely looked up or moved, instead blindly gestured towards the table, Astoria felt something she wasn’t accustomed to admitting she felt. Fear. Fear for what had done this, left Draco staring into nothing.    She soon discovered why. As the words in the letter absorbed, it became all too clear that Draco’s second marriage had been an abusive one. It was a fact that she’d known but had never pushed for him to talk about. Even reading filled her with rage, silent, cold and deadly, and the only thought in her head for those few brief seconds was killing Harry Potter, as slowly as possible. Maybe that made her just as bad as him, but this man deserved to suffer for the look that he put on Draco’s face. Moving as Draco turned his head to look at her, Astoria didn’t stand over him. Instead, she knelt by his chair, and looked up at him, kept her hands where he could see them without touching. No matter how badly she wanted to comfort him, his boundaries came first. “Where would we go? Back to the Wall?” she asked quietly, and it was a serious question. “He may be waiting for that reaction, Draco, and that’s the point where he’ll take the chance to take you back and hurt you. Catching you while you’re scared and running suits him far better than trying to win a fight.” It went without saying that she wasn’t going to let that happen if she had anything to do with it. “He’s not going to touch you. Not now. Not ever again.”  The cruelty was breathtaking and it took everything in her not to get angry, to stay calm and steady for the man in front of her.

   Exhaling quietly, Astoria held Draco’s gaze, shook her head. “The only person who has the right to call themselves lord of Winterfell is you,” she said, and the words rung true. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it. Do you want to leave, or do you want to make a plan and fight back?” That there was unmistakable affection in her voice as she spoke must have said it all: that she’d tear the entire world apart if Draco asked her to. She wondered if he knew that by now, or if it was still something that he doubted. “You know what kind of man he is, and this letter tells me that he won’t stop until he’s dead. Do I read it correctly?” Things had been placed on pause here at Riverrun, in a position of relative safety, now shattered. People were never going to stop coming for Draco, and that meant Astoria was never going to stop fighting for him.

[onesandzcros]

Draco​:

  The laceration on Astoria’s collarbone had been Draco’s first concern. Assuming it had been a sword or a knife, it seemed to have hit right above where her protective clothes ended and the second part of it begun. It was a particularly tricky spot to tend to and Draco imagined it wasn’t easy to deal with either. It was probably for the best not to spent too much time fidgeting with it. It should be taken care of and left alone. “Of course I’m gentle. You deserve gentle. You’ve been in battle all day.” It would be a contrast, Draco imagined. He lifted the gauze to see if the wound stopped bleeding. To Draco’s delight, it did. He removed the gauze and applied three layers of bandages instead that he stuck to her skin with some tape. The discomfort of ripping that off was what Draco imagined would be minor in comparison. “We talked about you,” he said absent-mindedly. “Perce and me. Apparently I talk about you like you hang the moon from your sword. That got me thinking. Do you?” At this point that would not surprise him, because Astoria was something else indeed. He also thought the words would amuse and distract Astoria.   The laceration taken care of, Draco took a step back out of Astoria’s space to give her space to look at her ribs and let him do the same thing from a distance. “I didn’t come from battle, Astoria. I’m going to be fine,” he reminded her, the words soft. His hands would eventually stop shaking, he was sure, and until then he would have to make do. “You fought for me. Don’t think I don’t know that. You take care of me, so I take care of you. That’s our partnership. Our alliance, if you like.” They weren’t siblings, not really, and they’d never quite been friends. But Draco knew Astoria had his back and trusted her like no one else. It was an unconditional thing. Watching how she removed the shirt, Draco’s eyes were firmly on the place that she indicated her ribs hurt. “The other side seems fine,” he observed. “I don’t think cleaning the spot will do it any good. It’s below the surface. I’ll go get something cold once you’re good and resting. We’re in the North. We should have plenty of cold available.” Winter was there, after all, and snow wrapped in a cloth could be very cold. “Do you want me to check anything else? You might not feel it yet due to the adrenaline.” 

   Astoria would have probably needed a mirror and a lot of patience she didn’t currently have to be dealing with the cut at her collarbone. That it had been close-quarters didn’t do anything to ease her mind about the very literal gap in her armour, something she planned to address for the next fight. That there would inevitably be more fighting seemed matter of fact to her. Being told that she deserved gentleness, though, led her to examine Draco yet again in a startled sort of way (or maybe she just never stopped, who knew at this point). “You might be the first person to have told me that. You deserve gentleness too,” she said, but the softer tone of the words spoke volumes to how much he was getting to her. There were other parts of her that had been bruised before Draco had been around, and he’d soothed all of them without knowing it. He bound the wound and Astoria was relieved for the sticky (disgusting) sensation of dried blood to be gone. Once he remarked about her hanging the moon from her sword, though, Astoria laughed, immediately distracted, knowing what he was doing but letting him do it. “Not yet, but for you, I’ll give it a try if you’d really like to see something go comedically wrong,” she said, grinning at him, sudden and bright. “For you, anything, of course; if you named a particular star I’d have a go at fetching it for you. What got you onto that topic of conversation? Surely you and Percy have better things to talk about.”

   Hearing that Draco hadn’t gone to battle so that he’d be fine made her look away from her ribs to glance at him. “We both will be,” she said softly. “And yes, I did. I always will, I promise.” That it went two ways made her smile, then wince when she tested the soreness with the pressure of fingers. “It just feels bruised rather than anything more serious, so something cold sounds heavenly,” she admitted. “I didn’t knock my head or anything. Maybe my hands? I always forget to check them and clean them up, and they’re usually the last place I feel anything.” Maybe it was nerve damage from the amount of fights with heavy-handed opponents or the fact that there were nights she’d literally slept with a sword in her hand, but it was still relevant. “Besides, I don’t look upon you as an alliance, Draco. You mean too much for that. I don’t know what we are, but I know that.” What she did look upon them as was questionable; they weren’t siblings, friends didn’t cut it because somehow they were too close. “All I know is that I won’t leave you, and that I never could. Never again.” So anyone who got in her way during a fight was going to have to deal with that fact up close and personal.