A.N. Yes, I know it's been forever. I am sorry it took so long. Junior year was exceptionally hard on me. I really do appreciate everyone who reads this story. But aren't you glad I haven't given up?
… Does anybody actually remember what's going on? -sigh- I'm doing the best I can.
Important Note: The Mysterious Character from Chapter 10 returns this chapter (it was the one of the pov's that nobody could really tell who it was)
Opinions please? Should I keep the second genre as Adventure or change it back to General… What do people expect in Adventure?
A thanks goes out to Sakura A. Moon for being my beta reader!
Enjoy!
Chapter 14
The Tiger Lily
Hermione and Draco stepped onto the 6th, floor gazing down the two hallways. Hermione glanced at the yellow sticky note on her card.
"628," she remarked. Draco pulled his card out.
"Same here." They stared down rather mournfully at their cards.
"So I guess that means we're roomies." Their shoulders sagged and they let out a long sigh.
"Great," they mumbled simultaneously. Hermione and Draco glanced at each other, eyebrows raised slightly, before heading down the right hallway.
"622, 624, 626," Hermione counted, "628. Here it is." Draco watched as she slid the card into a gold colored contraption on top of the door handle, tensing as he remembered Marie's last comment to him. He had been fairly sure she was just joking, but what if she had only given them one-
Hermione swiftly removed the card, throwing the door open. Draco's eyes widened for a moment before he relaxed in relief, spotting the two beds. Hermione and Draco walked forward, entering the soft crème colored room. Draco absentmindedly traced his fingers over the room's deep blue trim lining the walls as Hermione brushed quietly pass him, going over to the wide window centered on the back wall. Pulling back the long, light blue curtain, she gazed outside.
"You can see most of the town from over here," she said, mostly to herself. Hermione sighed, turning away from the window and instead glancing at the two beds on either side of her. They were both positioned next to each other with only a small dark, nightstand between them. Identical light blue blankets lay on the beds with piles of fluffy pillows, their colors matching the curtains and wall trim. A small sea-green pillow with the words, The Tiger Lily, stitched on them was centered in the pile.
"Do you care which bed you have?" she asked, looking over at Draco. He shrugged, still looking out the small window on the right side of the room, before instead opening the door next to it, which turned out to be a closet. Hermione laid her bag down, lying on the bed farthest from him, near the door on the other side of the room, which she assumed to be the bathroom. She took a long deep breath, snuggling into pillows on top of the covers. Hermione closed her eyes, not believing how tired she suddenly felt. Well I did get up rather early this morning. She yawed, drifting off almost instantly.
Draco closed the closet door, setting his bag down on the dresser beside it, under the windows. He glanced at the front door, spotting a large TV stationed beside it. He shook his head; he had enough of Muggles and their TV for now. Maybe later… Draco turned around, seeing Hermione laying on one of the beds. Draco sat on the other one and glanced at the clock next to the small lamp on the nightstand.
"What are we going to do now?" Draco asked, glancing up at Hermione. She was on her side, her back towards him.
"Granger?" Draco paused, hearing no response except her steady breaths. He sighed, slipping off his shoes and removing his jacket. Lying down on the bed, he gazed across at Hermione, her body rising and falling slightly with each breath. She let out a sleepy sigh, clutching her pillow tighter to her. Draco continued to watch her back for a few moments before shaking his head slightly and turning over away from her. I guess we're going to 'sleep' now. Draco yawned, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Draco's eyes blinked open and he found himself staring up at the crème ceiling. He frowned slightly. Crème? Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. The inn. Of course. He stared up at the ceiling momentarily before lazily turning over and looking across the room. Granger was still fast asleep on the bed a few feet from him. She must have turned over while she was asleep because her back was no longer facing him. Her long, wavy hair had broken free of its ponytail and was now wildly strewn across her pillows. Draco smirked, gazing at the chaotic tangle. Now that's typical Granger. Though messy, her hair seemed almost to flow around her, framing her face softly. Her cheeks were flushed lightly, with her lips ever so slightly parted as she took small, even breaths. Draco found himself just staring at her, from the mess of hair that seemed to fit just her so perfectly, to exploring every inch of her sleeping face; her blushing cheeks, her delicate nose, her parted lips, her softly closed eyes. She looked so peaceful, just lying there.
She never looks like that.
Draco realized that in the past couple months, even perhaps most of the school year, he had rarely seen her look so calm, so serene. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Everything with the war, especially with her being so close to the 'Boy-Who-Lived-To-Die', her friends, her muggle family, and now finding out about half her life being a lie. And with Granger always having to 'care' about everything…
Draco bit his lip slightly.
… and everyone…
Draco continued to gaze, taking in the moment. No, he hadn't seen her this peaceful in a long time.
Light streamed in slightly through the window above them, casting shadows over the now dim room. As it came across the beds the light seemed to accent each part of her, almost making her seem to glow. Draco found his face fading into a small smile as he stared. He knew he had been looking for too long, but for some reason, he didn't find the need to look away.
She's- Hermione gave a small yawn, twisting around in her bed a bit before snuggling back down to sleep. Draco blinked, ceasing to finish his thought. Sitting up, he glanced out the window. They must have been sleeping awhile because it looked like it was almost dark outside. The lights on all the shops near the inn were lit and Draco could see people walking around outside. Standing, Draco stretched a bit, looking around the room again. Glancing at the door that led to the bathroom, he decided to take a shower considering he really had nothing better to do. Grabbing some clothes out of his backpack Draco went over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him without a single glance spared over to Hermione.
Draco came out of the bathroom muttering grumpily. He was still getting used to his new hair. Every time he would glance at himself in the mirror he had to stop and take it in. It was nice, he would admit, but still… Doing his hair was another ordeal. Usually Draco went through many products to keep his hair at utmost perfection. Here however, at this so-called inn, he had been forced to use mediocre shampoos that came in unbelievably small plastic bottles. Then once he had finally finished that, it was his normal routine to towel dry his hair, then air dry it for a small while, and then do a drying charm with his wand.
The first two steps went relatively okay, but obviously, he ran into a slight problem when it came to the last one. That was when he had been forced to consider the large white contraption hanging on the side of the wall. It had the phrase 'HairDryer' in red letters on it, but Draco had his doubts. Tentatively, he had removed it from the wall and found the button labeled 'power'. Remembering the remote at Granger's house, Draco pushed the button. As a loud roaring over took the bathroom, he jumped back in surprise, almost dropping the Muggle device. However, feeling the hot air blowing out of it first with his hand, he then cautiously proceeded to dry his hair. And now, as he was walking out of the bathroom, Draco grudgingly had to admit, that even with the mediocre shampoos, lack of appropriate extra conditioners and lotions, and forced use of a Muggle device, his hair came out exactly the same as it had the past 16 years of his life.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Draco ran his hand through his hair once more, looking around. And what to do now? Draco glanced back at the still sleeping Hermione. Sighing, he pulled his pillow into his lap, resting his elbows upon it. He was not about to sit here while Granger slept her life away. It also could be that he didn't want to catch himself staring at her again, not that he'd ever admit it. Glancing back at the fluffy pillow in his lap, a slow smirk spread over his face. Picking it up in one hand, he lifted it up in the air, took careful aim, and threw it straight at Hermione's peacefully sleeping head.
Hermione gave a loud shout, shooting straight up in her bed. Draco began to laugh loudly, holding his sides as she looked around wildly. Hermione turned towards him in confusion before her eyes widened slightly in recognition. Giving an indignant shriek, she grabbed the pillow from beside her and whipped it at Draco's head. Draco stopped in mid laugh, his mouth hanging open slightly, a look of pure shock on his face. His previously so perfect hair was mussed slightly, its dark strands cascading down the front of his face. Hermione covered her mouth with one hand, giggling madly at his expression. Draco blinked, snapping out of it. Narrowing his eyes at her, he stood, grabbing the thrown pillow and threw it straight at her. Sitting back down, he smirked smugly at Hermione's reddening face. Hermione glared at him before giving a small smirk of her own, nodding slightly. Draco's own smirk faded as a slight cold dread filled the pit of his stomach.
"Oh that is it," Hermione whispered menacingly before standing, pillow in hand and advancing toward Draco. Draco's eyes widened before he scrambled backward over the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow as he went. Hermione scampered over the bed quickly, only to receive another thwack from Draco. Hermione got in a hit of her own before Draco ran around the bed to the other side of the room. Voicing shrieks of laughter and outrage, jumping over beds, and simply running around room, the pillow fight continued for several minutes, causing the poor old couple below them to worry a bit.
Both Hermione and Draco were becoming considerably out of breath by this point and Hermione, who was taking a small rest from beside the TV, suddenly decided to make a run for it, jumping on her own bed then leaping to Draco's bed, sending her pillow crashing down on the unsuspecting boy in the middle. Hermione laughed again sticking out her tongue before Draco smirked almost playfully back and hit his pillow across her knees, causing her to fall back down upon the bed. Quickly, Hermione rolled herself off the bed onto the floor, before Draco could strike again. Hiding under the bed, laughing and panting slightly, Hermione waited cautiously as Draco jumped on the bed. Scrunching up tightly next to her pillow Hermione simply smiled at Draco, who was peering down at her. Thinking she had won a rest, Hermione relaxed a bit, but then let out a shrill shriek when she felt something… tickling her feet?! Hermione continued to laugh, becoming more hysterical by the moment and finally scooting out from under the bed. Draco hopped off the bed, tackling her back down to floor as she tried to stand.
"You didn't think you could hide from me, did you Granger?" he asked, tilting his head sideways, a grin on his face. Draco leaned closer to Hermione who was still laughing quietly. "Who's the king of pillow fighting now?" He tilted his ear near her mouth. "Say it." Hermione shook her head. "Granger…" Draco sing-songed. He leaned even closer.
"Never," Hermione whispered. He could feel her warm breath ghost over his ear, sending a slow shiver down his spine. Still, he would not be deterred. He lifted his head a bit, looking at her. She was still panting ever so slightly, a wide smile on her face and little bursts of laughter coming out every so often. Her eyes were half lidded with mirth, her cheeks bright and rosy, and her hair flowed around her chaotically, yet perfectly. Draco leaned even closer once more, barely catching himself before their noses touched.
"Say it Granger," he whispered. "Or else."
"Or else what?" Hermione questioned just as softly, opening her eyes a bit more. Draco stared at her. He could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest. He swore he could almost hear it. They were so close. If he just leaned down a bit more they could actually-
Draco stopped mid-thought. What was he doing? What was he thinking? This was 'know-it-all-bushy-haired-best-friends-with-Potter' Granger. They should be fighting and throwing insults by now, not rolling around on the floor laughing. Draco looked again at the girl lying beneath him. She was struggling slightly, but he had her pinned with almost no effort. He racked his brain for something to say to her, something to break this impossible scene he was in, but as she cocked her head to the side, looking up at him, Draco found that staring into those pools of melted chocolate, he didn't want to insult her anymore, didn't have to. Draco shook his head slowly, still staring at her. Hermione had stilled and was now just calmly resting underneath him. It was too surreal. Draco realized that somewhere along the way Granger had changed from 'know-it-all-bushy-haired-best-friends-with-Potter' Granger to 'know-it-all-bushy-haired-huge-part-of-Draco's-life' Granger. His current situation was impossible, yes, wrong even, but nothing seemed to matter so much in that exact moment. He felt almost relaxed, like this was how things were supposed to be and for once he was just going to let go and just…
Draco breath caught at his thought and he pulled himself out of Hermione's eyes. He stopped his thoughts, not wanting to continue.
"Whose the king of pillow fighting?" he whispered once more. Hermione smiled slightly, an almost mischievous look in her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders.
"You are."
"Excellent," Draco responded. He leaned down a bit and for the briefest of moments their breaths mingled, its soft warmth caressing their cheeks before he lifted himself up and rolled over, lying next to her. They lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
Hermione was the first to move, slowly rising and leaning against the bed, a faint blush gracing her cheeks. "Well, I guess," Hermione started, avoiding Draco's eyes slightly, "I'll go take a shower and then we'll do something…" she trailed off, fully standing up. Draco remained lying on the floor, looking up at her. He nodded. Hermione rifled through her bag, pulling out some clothes and retreated to the bathroom. Draco sighed.
"Don't take all day, Granger," he yelled as the door closed behind her. Draco rolled his eyes before frowning slightly, realizing he was still on the floor. Hadn't he already established that Malfoys didn't belong on floors? Draco stood, lying back on his now rumpled bed. What was it about situations involving Granger that had him always ending up on the floor?
Draco sighed for what seemed to be like the millionth time, as he stared up at the ceiling. He was completely and utterly bored and Granger was taking forever.
…okay it had barely been five minutes, but still, he wanted to do something. Perhaps he could go downstairs and look around and just wait for Granger there, maybe find Marie and ask her about food or something. Draco sat up quickly. Yeah, that was it. He stood to yell out to Granger about his plan before stopping, frowning slightly. He remembered downstairs quite well... and all the strange things he saw down there… things he had never seen before. Like that thing Marie was looking at before she gave them the keys. He had seen several other contraptions, some he remembered catching a glimpse at in Granger's house. Muggle things. Draco sat back down on his bed as his stomach clenched with the realization that he was in an entirely unknown element here. He was a Malfoy, he was used to being superior in everything. But now... he knew nothing.
Draco glanced own at his clammy palms before clasping them together, his face hard. Malfoys do not fear. Yet Draco felt it in the depths of his stomach, slowly casting its cold tendrils though his body, piercing his heart. Suddenly, he had a flashback of little eleven-year-old Potter and himself before he had even known who Potter was. Draco had stood in all his snobbery in Madam Malkin's looking down at the boy who had never heard of Quidditch. Quidditch of all things, the most common, well-known fact in his life. He remembered thinking the boy was a complete fool, maybe involved in some memory freak accident, or perhaps even mentally ill.
Draco shuddered to think what they would think of him, not even knowing the most basic of things, that they too perhaps would think as he had thought of Potter. At least then Draco knew of muggleborns, he knew that some people had no clue about the wizarding world. But muggles knew no such thing; this was the world, and everyone had always lived in it. Draco lowered his head slightly, closing his eyes as more memories continued to barrage his mind.
Objects, people, sports, phrases, that he had never heard of. Draco snapped his head up as the bathroom door opened and Hermione stepped out.
How would he survive?
Hermione glanced over at Draco as she came out of the bathroom. She saw the oddest expression on his face before it disappeared, leaving him staring nonchalantly at nothing in particular. Hermione shook her head, dismissing it. She sat down on her bed across from Draco and glared at him slightly. "You used all the shampoo, you know." Draco snorted dismissively.
"So? I doubt their poor excuses for shampoo could have tackled that mass anyway." Hermione huffed indignantly.
"Whatever, Malfoy, you should just be glad I remembered to pack some of my own shampoo or else I would have really been in there forever." Hermione stood. "So let's go. I'm starving." Draco glanced away.
"And what if I don't want to go," he said, a hint of an edge in his voice. Hermione looked at him, surprised that she found herself surprised at his change in attitude. But something was off. Hermione had two best friends as guys, who as many guys do, would not just come out and tell her what was actually bothering them. Hermione had an intuition about these types of things and she had learned that patience was the major key in dealing with their 'manly' problems. Draco Malfoy was no different. Hermione sat back down.
"So," she began, "what do you want to do then?" Draco shrugged slightly while simultaneously his stomach gave a loud growl. Draco resisted the immense urge to glare down at his stomach. Traitorous tummy. Hermione grinned. No way he can get out of it now. "So you are hungry. Come on let's go. Draco crossed his arms.
"No." Hermione could almost see the small beginning of a childlike pout. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Boys. You're so stubborn." Hermione lay on her bed. "You remind me of Ron for goodness sakes," she mumbled. Hermione stifled a grin, seeing the absolutely horror-stricken look come upon Draco's face.
"That's disgusting, Granger. Please, don't ever, ever compare me to your obnoxious boyfriend". Hermione frowned.
"He's not my boyfriend." She gave a small huff, turning her gaze to the ceiling. Draco raised an eyebrow at her reaction.
"Trouble in trio paradise?" Hermione scowled slightly.
"No," she paused. "I'm just tired of everyone assuming he's my boyfriend that's all. I don't even know if I still-" Hermione stopped short, her cheeks turning slightly pinkish.
"You don't know if you still what, Granger? If you're still hopelessly head over heels for your red-haired weasel?" Hermione glared at the wall beside her, avoiding Draco's mischievous stare. "Hmm… Perhaps another has caught your eye? Perhaps a certain famous scarhead that we both know?"
"No." Hermione said vehemently, looking at Draco. He smirked. Hermione let out another huff, rolling her eyes. "What is it with people? If it's not Ron, then it's always Harry. I don't understand why people can't leave our friendship alone. I'm tired of everyone always whispering about us and making up rumors. I'm tired of them always-"
"-expecting things." Draco cut in, raising an eyebrow. Hermione frowned slightly.
"Yeah." She sighed. "I mean- I always thought Ron and I- certain things I used to find so-" Hermione gave another frustrated sigh. "But now it just seems so-" Hermione rolled her eyes, irritated. "He's just so immature all the time, and he says things and does thing and I just can't believe I ever-" Draco sat back on his bed, pulling his feet up, watching Hermione in her oblivious rant.
"Maybe you never did Granger." Hermione looked at him slightly confused. "Maybe you never did like Weasley anyway." Hermione opened her mouth to respond. Draco gave her a pointed look. "I know a few things about expectations, Granger. And unlike you, I'm not specifically involved somehow in this situation, so let me tell you how it is," Draco drawled.
"You are best friends with the entire Wizarding world's savior, their golden boy. By mere association this makes you, as well as Weasley unfortunately, in a word: famous. Meaning now the entire Wizarding public has the right to dictate your entire life, until of course they get tired of you or you're no longer famous. Correct?" Hermione gave a wary half nod.
"Good. Now because the entire world has a right to shape your life how they want it, everything must be perfect. But sadly, there is a slight problem. You see, you Granger are what some people might refer to as a girl. Now let's see, 'a girl is best friends with two guys only platonically'. Not going to work. But you turn out to be 'one of the smartest witches of you generation', so they very well can't get rid of you, you might be important later on in helping their savior defeat You-Know-Who. So they go for the next best thing: the so-called 'platonic relationship'. But now the public comes to another crossroads; a topic where they are sadly still going back and forth on by the way. Should they pick their one and only Boy-Who-Just-Couldn't-Die, or his haplessly foolish and loyal, dirt poor friend? Well a general consensus was made that it would be the latter. Why? Well because Potter's story is so tragic and depressing that people seem to like having their hero in constant angst. So now they have their perfect image. The great boy wonder standing alone, front and center, ready to save them all once again, with his faithful sidekicks behind him, joined in hopelessly pure love."
Hermione rolled his eyes and shifted her position, now leaning against her headboard. "The entire world is not a conspiracy." Draco smirked.
"Au contraire, Granger, au contraire. 'Conspiracy' might be a bit strong, but trust me it's there. Probably even before you were old enough to know what romance was- The little whispers of how cute you two looked together- and all those arguments, well that just fueled the fire. They evolved from adorably idiotic bickering to full on romantic 'love spats', to just plain ol' 'sexual tension'." There was a pause as Hermione stared at Draco with slightly widened eyes as he stared blankly back. Hermione cleared her throat.
"Well I never thought you to be one to have such an imagination, Malfoy," she said, trying to sound confident, but only managing uncertainty and slight confusion.
"Okay Granger, think whatever you want," he said, using a rather amused tone. "But come on, think back and tell me when you first actually, truly, knew you liked Weasel. You know," he began in a mocking voice, "that whole, can't eat, can't sleep, the sweating palms and racing heart whenever you're near him. Your thoughts always about him, your entire soul lost in a whirlwind of emotions." Draco smirked. "And I'm not just talking about those tornados of anger you have Granger." Draco continued smirking as he watched Hermione turn slightly away from him, pulling her knees up against her. "Don't even worry about it Granger." He gave a contented sigh. "Personally I think it's a very good thing. I mean I get chills just imagining your kids: tons of little bushy-haired, redheaded, hot-tempered geniuses. Oh the horror." Draco glanced over at Hermione who looked as though she hadn't even heard him.
Hermione stared off into space as uneasiness settled in her stomach. So maybe Malfoy was slightly right about the whole Ron thing. But that wasn't even bothering her that much, she could have figured that one out on her own. But the whole, 'can't eat, can't sleep thing, the sweaty palms and racing heart'. Now that was something. I don't think I've ever felt that way about anyone.
"Aww, poor Granger." Hermione looked over at Draco, startled. She hadn't realized she had said it aloud. Hermione began to blush slightly. She glared at Draco.
"Oh, and like you have Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes at him, before turning away once more, thinking. Draco's smirk faded a bit and he turned away also. As he glanced around the room, the television once again caught his eye, reminding him of 'the Muggle problem'. Draco glanced over at Hermione. Perhaps while she was preoccupied...
Draco hated sounding stupid, but he also hated not knowing something. He resisted the urge to bite his lip as he glanced over at Granger, who was still deep in thought. If he asked now, maybe she wouldn't notice...
"Hey Granger," he said in a casual tone.
"Yeah," she replied, sounding slightly distracted.
"What was that- that thing Marie was on? That she was looking at before she gave us our keys." Hermione glanced at him.
"Oh you mean the computer?" Draco nodded, relieved. No sarcastic comments or raised eyebrows.
"Yeah, the computer," he said, rolling the word around his tongue, tasting it. "The computer," he mumbled to himself. Hermione paused in her thoughts.
Wait, did Draco Malfoy just say the word 'computer'?
Hermione looked over at Draco who was sitting on his bed, a very pleased and relived look on his face. She gave a small gasp. That was it! Hermione rolled her eyes, jumping off her bed.
Boys and their stupid pride, can't they just ask for help when they need it?
She shook her head, forcibly grabbing Draco's arm. Hermione looked at the look of shock and confusion on his face.
No, I suppose they can't.
Hermione managed to get inside the elevator before Draco finally thought to rip his arm out of her grasp. Hermione just stared calmly ahead as Draco continued to look at her in bewilderment.
"What in the world is your problem Granger?!" Draco scowled, seeming to finally realize that they were headed downstairs. "I told you I don't want to go anywhere." He began to contemplate the rows of numbered buttons on the wall. Now which one...
Hermione stood in front of the buttons.
"Oh just stop being so stubborn Malfoy. Use your common sense for once. I know you're worried about not knowing things in the Muggle World. But like it or not we're going to be here for who knows how long. And I'm the only one you can ask about things without sounding like a complete imbecile." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm not going to expect you to actually know what a computer or any other Muggle thing is, in fact, I'd be kind of worried if you did." She sighed as the elevator doors opened. "You can't hide in the room forever, Malfoy," she said lowering her voice slightly as she stepped out into the lobby. She turned and looked at Draco, who was staring out at her expressionless, still in the elevator.
"Come on," she whispered to him, motioning with her head toward the lobby. She turned and walked away from him. And as she heard the soft sound of steps meet up with hers, she released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.
Hermione and Draco approached the front desk. A new girl was standing behind the counter.
"Um, excuse me-" Hermione started. The girl gave an irritated sigh and looked up from her magazine, stopping in mid-turn.
"What?" she said, giving a rather loud pop with her pink bubble gum. Hermione gave the girl a slight glare.
"Would you happen to know where Marie is?" The girl stared at her blankly before popping her gum one more time.
"Oh, you must be the new people she was talking about." Hermione nodded. "Yeah, well she said to go down to Joe's. It's this diner cafe thing down the street. Just turn right outta here and you'll see it soon enough. Everything'll be put on the inn's tab. They'll be expecting you." She gave a flip of her long, perfectly straight brown hair and turned to go back to her magazine. Pausing as she stared down at the magazine, she dropped the page she had been holding. Slightly wide-eyed, she slowly looked back up, staring at Draco, who was leaning against the counter looking bored. She smiled brightly, closing her magazine and leaning slightly forward.
"Uh, hi," she said, breathlessly. "Can I, um, help you?" She flipped her hair again and lowered her eyelashes flirtatiously. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Excuse me, but I still had a question-"
"Excuse me," the girl snapped, sneering at Hermione slightly, "but I believe I am talking to him." She raised one manicured finger, pointing at Draco. She turned back toward Draco once again smiling prettily. "Now what can I do for you?"
Hermione gave a huff before glaring at the girl and pushing off the counter. She turned swiftly, moving closer to Draco.
"He," Hermione started, locking her eyes with the girl's, "is with me." She placed one hand on Draco's shoulder, lifting herself up slightly, so her mouth was almost brushing against his ear. She whispered something, holding the other girl's stare the entire time, before letting go and striding out the door. Draco tried to ignore the cool feeling left on his neck where Granger's warm breath had ghosted over. He raised an eyebrow, watching her as she disappeared outside.
Hermione leaned against the brick wall outside of the Tiger Lily, tapping her fingers impatiently. Getting off the wall she walked over to Draco as he came out of the doors. He held out a pack of note cards and a pen. Hermione began to take them, but Draco held on. He smirked.
"So what was that all about?" He leaned forward. "Jealous were we?" Hermione gave him a fierce glare, wrenching the cards out of his hand. Draco let go calmly.
"No," she spat. They began to walk past the inn's lawns. Hermione shrugged. "I just don't like being ignored that's all." Hermione gave another angry sigh, getting worked up again. "First she had that rude attitude and then she just wanted to pretend like I wasn't standing right in front of her?! The nerve! I'm mean really, what a hateful, air-headed magazine-reading, gum-chewing, hair-twirling-" Hermione let out a strangled cry. Draco rolled his eyes at her antics.
"Oh yeah Granger, you don't sound jealous at all." Hermione let out a sigh, calming herself down.
"She's a total bimbo." Draco stifled a snort.
"Bimbo, Granger? Oh come on don't you think that's a bit harsh? What solid proof do you actually have that she's a 'bimbo'?"
"Well anyone interested in you must be an idiot." Draco frowned, his eyes darkening. He stopped walking, turning to look at Granger. How dare she- Draco paused, seeing the slight benevolent twinkle in her eye. With a start, he realized that she was teasing him. Draco closed his mouth, stopping his angry retort as his frown turned into a look of confusion. When-
"This is it," Hermione said. "Joe's" Draco glanced at the window behind him and realized that they had indeed stopped in front of the restaurant. Hermione opened the door. "Let's go."
The two walked through the door, greeted by the loud hustle and bustle of the restaurant. There was a large circular bar in the middle of the wide room, with several people lounging around it. Others sat at the tall wooden tables, at the high stools that were around the room or at the booths near the windows. Music was playing overhead, but it was practically unintelligent over the loud conversation and bursts of laughter coming from the occupants. On the left side of the restaurant was obviously the kitchen, where various servers were coming in and out of. On the other end there were some low lying tables and couches, along with the pool table and oddly enough a chess board and several bookshelves. The pair made their way through the crowd and sat at an empty table in the corner. They relaxed for a moment in the chairs, taking in the atmosphere. It almost reminded them of the Three Broomsticks.
"Have ya'll been helped yet?" A woman had appeared next to their table. Hermione shook her head. "Okay then," the woman replied. "My name's Sandra, and I'll be your server today. What can I get you guys for drinks?"
"Pepsi please," Hermione said, shooting a glare over at Draco, who was opening his mouth to speak. "For the both of us," she added, looking back at Sandra.
"Got it," Sandra said, giving another beaming smile. "I'll be right back with those." She walked back into the crowd. Hermione turned her attention back to Draco.
"You know food and drinks here can be different too sometimes. You won't find pumpkin juice here, or butterbeer, or even, heaven forbid you were thinking it, firewhiskey." Draco gave a stiff nod, still looking rather tense. Hermione shook here head slightly. "Don't worry about it, trust me, this'll be fine. Slip-ups like that are easily explained simply by us being foreign. Here take a menu." She pulled two menus out of the small holder on the table. Draco took the small menu and began reading over it. His shoulders relaxed a bit as he saw quite a few things he recognized. He glanced over at Granger, who was staring at the menu intently, mumbling to herself. Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Okay there Granger?" She looked up.
"Yeah. Here, give me your menu." Draco frowned.
"Why? I don't know what I'm ordering yet."
"Uh no, I think I'll order." Draco looked at her warily.
"I don't think so Granger…" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It won't kill you Malfoy," she said, reaching across the table for his menu. Draco yanked it back out of her reach. He smirked dangling it in the air. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, leaning even further over the table. Draco scooted back, giving a small laugh.
"Come on Granger," he taunted, "is that the best you can do?" Hermione narrowed her eyes, growling ever so slightly. Draco's eyes widened incredulously. "Did you just growl Granger?" Hermione ignored him, suddenly lunging across the table. Draco gave an almost girlish shriek, backing up as far as he could before his chair hit the wall behind him. Hermione was still reaching over the table.
"Give it to me!"
"I- don't- think so!" Draco said, waving the menu around wildly, trying to avoid Hermione's hands.
"Give!"
"No!"
"Give!"
"No!"
"Ahem." The pair froze, turning their heads slightly to see Sandra, waiting, drinks in hand. An amused smile was on her face as she looked down at the two.
"Oh, I'm so, er-" Hermione stammered, as she slid herself off the table and sat in her chair completely, her face blushing a fierce red. Draco quietly moved his chair back, avoiding the waitress' eyes. Sandra gave a small chuckle, setting the drinks down in front of them. "We are so sorry," Hermione started, still bright red. "I don't know- what-"
"Oh, it's okay. I totally understand," she said, a knowing look on her face. Draco slid further into his chair.
"Um, can we just have cheeseburgers and fries," Hermione said sheepishly.
"Sure thing," Sandra said, the knowing look still on her face. "I'll be back with your meal in a few." She looked at them one more time, before giving them a big wink and walking away. There was a paused as the two avoided looking at each other.
"Well that was interesting…" Hermione started, trailing off. Draco made a small noise before sitting back up in his chair.
"Okay, so what were the note cards for?" Hermione brightened.
"Right, the note cards. Well, Mal- er, Aidan," Hermione shook her head slightly, "I figured now was a good a time as any to start your," she lowered her voice a fraction, "Muggle training." Draco frowned slightly.
"Okay…"
"Good," Hermione replied, handing over some cards and a pen. "That's a pen, by the way, you write with it. Just think of it like a 21st century quill. The ink's inside so you don't need to dip the tip in a jar. Nobody uses quills anymore here. Oh, and there's also pencils, which are usually wooden instead of plastic. And they write with graphite and have erasers on the other end. There's no erasable spell here so with pens you can use white out- not very neat or effective- or an erasable pen, but they're not always the best-"
"Granger, you're rambling." Hermione stopped, giving a sheepish grin.
"Right, sorry, there's just so much to go over. Anyway, I figured we'd start with the basis for all things Muggle: electricity. Basically anything in the Muggle world that would seem to need magic to work, is run by electricity. It powers things." Hermione paused looking around. "Things like that," she said, pointing to a blender sitting behind the bar counters, "and that, and that," she continued to point to various objects. "Let's go back to the blender. By the way, it blends things. Fruits, vegetables, you can use it to make different drinks etcetera. Do you see the long rope-like thing coming out of it? Well that's an electrical cord; it plugs into the outlet behind it. Got it so far?" Hermione questioned. Draco nodded.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I should warn you, never stick your finger or anything metal, except a plug of course, into an outlet." Draco raised an eyebrow.
"And just why not?" Hermione looked at him blankly.
"Well… it could kill you…" Draco gave a start.
"What?" he said incredulously. "And they just have these kinds of things lying around?!"
"Well they're basically just outlets for power. Just don't do anything stupid," Hermione said. "It's the same basic concept as lightning. You've heard of conductors right? Well, it's the same reason you don't want to be hit by lightning or stand in a huge puddle when there's a thunderstorm." Draco groaned, scribbling down more notes.
"What else is there?" Hermione smirked.
"Oh don't tell me you're tired of learning already Aidan, we've still got to go over so many things. Computers, the internet, your basic kitchen appliances, electronics, foods, history, music, not to mention the things that are solely in the Magical world and then the things that only differ slightly." Hermione picked up the pen off the table. "Come on Aidan, start writing." Draco scowled, taking the pen.
"And stop calling me that ridiculous name." Hermione shrugged.
"We've got to get used to them, so we might as well practice so we don't slip up." Draco sighed. "Oh come on. It's the first two names I could think of, get over it, it's done now." Draco gave another scowl. Hermione grinned. "Good. About the internet…"
"So, dinner wasn't so bad, was it?" Hermione said to Draco as they walked down the street towards the inn.
"Eh," Draco made a non-committal noise. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Uh huh, sure Malfoy, you know you liked it. Come on, you downed like five different sodas. If I hadn't have stopped you who knows what kind of permanent damage that kind of sugar rush could have done to you." Draco gave a small smirk, shrugging his shoulders.
"What can I say Granger, the concept of sugar and carbonated bubbles is a fascinating concept." Hermione gave a mock gasp.
"Did you just compliment something muggle?"
"I really do think you're the one with the sugar rush Gwen, because what in Merlin's name is a muggle?" Draco smirked, casting a sideways glance at Hermione. Hermione shrugged calmly.
"I don't know Aidan, just a word I made up I suppose. But just why exactly may I ask are you talking about 'Merlin"? That's a bit odd don't you think?" Hermione gave him a smirk of her own. Draco let out a small groan.
"I think this is going to be harder than we thought." Hermione gave a soft laugh, nodding.
"Definitely." The two turned onto the lighted walkway towards the inn, past the darkened rows of hedges. Hermione sighed.
"Great. Just when I'm finally getting that horrid girl out of my system, it's time for encounter number two. Draco smirked.
"Aww, still jealous Gwen?" Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco swung an arm around her shoulder. "Whatever Gwen, you know you so want me," he whispered mockingly in her ear. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide and adoring.
"Oh dear, you've caught me Aidan darling. I've secretly wanted you this whole time," she said breathily. They stopped walking, Draco leaning even closer into Hermione.
"Really Gwen? Really?" he gushed, adding into the theatrics. Hermione stepped it up a notch, clutching desperately onto the front of his shirt.
"Oh yes Aidan, more than anything," she whispered, leaning even closer. The pair paused, realizing their position. Hermione slowly loosened her grip on Draco's shirt and stepped away as he lifted his hands off her shoulders and stepped back also. They avoided each other's eyes. Hermione gave a small cough, shifting from one foot to the other.
"That was… awkward." Draco looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah." They walked the few feet to front door, Draco opening it.
"Let's not-" Hermione started, walking into the inn, "Let's not do or mention that ever again." Draco nodded.
"Definitely not," he said, letting the door close behind them.
I was not lurking.
I was merely… observing… near the hedges… hidden in the shadows… with people passing me by completely oblivious to my presence… See, I was only…
…lurking. What can I say it's something I've always done well.
I arrived just a few hours ago and then found out all of their information pretty quickly. News travels quick around here: They were found sometime this morning. Staying at the Tiger Lily. Hadn't been seen for hours, most likely asleep. Maria, the owner, supposedly was going to go to tell them to Joe's, some diner down the street.
After that they were bound to come back here. They were new, it was night; I don't think there would be much exploring going on yet. So I waited. And waited. Watched countless people stroll by me, immersed in their own little happy world, completely unaware that there was a little devil in the shadows that could blast them to pieces with a wave of his-
And then I heard it. Her laugh. Even after all these years, somehow it still sounded exactly the same. I felt it quiver inside me. Bringing up lost memories…
I was just nine when I got my first 'very important' mission. My time to prove myself to the family. To make sacrifices for it. We lived in Italy. My family was your typical filthy-rich, muggle-hating, pureblood family, with all our filthy-rich, muggle-hating, pureblood family friends… no 'friends' was too strong, more like… connections. Connections were very important in our world. The only important thing. You needed connections everywhere in order to survive. The Delavontá's were one of our international connections in France. We weren't exactly on equal footing (the Delavontá's were higher up in the social food chain than us) but still we were high enough to be on good terms with. And when the scandal struck… we were the first ones to know… the only ones to know. Not about the Azkaban sentence or the baby girl, no everybody who was anybody knew about that. But we knew a bit extra, we knew who the girl was.
Hermione Granger living with her muggle family in England.
Now the Delavontás wanted someone to keep an eye on her. They had their ways for awhile. But now that she was getting older, they wanted someone… closer. That is of course where I came in. The Grangers started sending Hermione to a slightly posh muggle summer camp in England. My family informed me of the entire Delavontá-Granger situation and told me I was supposed to get to know her. It was an odd situation. I wasn't necessarily supposed to become friends with her per say, just look over her. I wasn't there to protect her either (none of the people who had worked with the Delavontás before were to either). I wasn't really even to get involved. I just needed to know her, her habits, her routine. Now that I look back on it, I wonder if the Delavontás were just normal grandparents, dying for a small insight into their unreachable granddaughter's life.
…but then of course that would mean they would actually have to have hearts. And everyone knows purebloods have their hearts removed at birth and keep them hidden away in a jar somewhere.
I was supposed to alarm them if I saw any suspicious (a.k.a. magical) characters around, but that never happened. The arrangement was of the utmost secrecy and the Delavontás were very good at what they did.
So that summer I was sent to Clearwaters Camp armed only with a huge suitcase, a slight glamour spell, no wand, and my charming nine year-old personality. Oh, and a loose bond. That's where the sacrifice came in.
Bonds are very tricky, dangerous spells. Dangerous, but useful if you don't let some rather unnecessary thoughts of morality get in the way. That's why most of them are illegal. They should only be performed by an experienced witch or wizard on another magically mature witch or wizard. Let me inform you, incase you didn't know… nine year-old wizards, no matter how pure their blood is, are not magically mature.
The bonding itself was painful, I couldn't leave bed for days. I thought I was dying… now that I think about it I probably was. It was like a part of your very soul was being ripped away. She, of course, felt none of this. We simply used a vial of her blood (I don't even want to inquire as to how the Delavontás got that) along with the potion and bonded me to her. Not mutually bonded, not her to me, just me to her… forever… but then again… most bonds are. But I did it, because I had to. Choices are very limited in my family.
I got to know her, everything about her. I was perfectly in tune to her. Where she was, what she was doing, what she was feeling, everything. The bond did crazy things to me though. Mentally. Physically. I suppose its effects made me seem rather strange sometimes, though I managed to hide most of it. But perhaps it was that strangeness that seemed to draw her to me so easily. But what drew me to her… I imagined it was just another effect of the bond. But the things I thought… about her… everything I began to think about her… it wasn't normal. Not even with the bond.
It wasn't when I was nine of course, but when I was older… but I never allowed myself to get any closer than necessary. But we both were like moths to flames; drawn to each other, inexplicably. We were never quite friends, never quite more. In fact, we seemed to exist in this odd sort of realm in between everything and anything I'd ever known. The feeling of connection was always there, because of the bond. But the possessiveness, the feeling that she was mine and mine alone, no matter how far or close I ever was to her… that was something entirely different. It got worse as I got older, as she got older, yet somehow she was still so young. I never allowed myself to indulge. I was there for a job, a purpose. But I did give myself one thing. One highly forbidden thing. But one thing I simply had to take. It was the last day of my last summer at Clearwaters. I had just turned 16, she was going to be 14 in a few weeks. I took one solitary indulgence. One solitary fiery kiss. Before I walked out of her life forever, and she out of mine.
Or so I thought. Apparently not though, as I watched her come around the corner with none other than Draco Malfoy. I had heard a bit about the Malfoy family before, because of the impending marriage with Christina and all. I read up some more before I came. Pureblood. Rich. Influential. The father belonged to a group called the Death Eaters, led by some half-human
Voldemort. Apparently, the father was very high up in the ranks. The entire group was starting up a rather big stir. Not just in England though, by now it had spread out to surrounding areas. But our family is still a bit too far to have anything to do with Voldemort. A good deal believe in what he's trying to do though. Some even moved to England to join in. Idiots. I hate muggles and mudbloods as much as the next person, but even I know a mad man when I see one. Though I keep that to myself. No need making extra enemies.
After I left camp I got back to a normal life, well as normal as it could be, with the effects of my childhood still lingering. The emotional whirlwinds. The terrifying (for other people) bouts of anger. The increase in physical and magical strength. The intense fascination and exceptional ability with the dark arts. But most everyone forgot everything. Forgot what I had done each summer since I was 9. Forgot the bond that they had so painstakingly formed. With such prolonged absence from her, I forgot it too. I was able to block out that tiny feeling inside of me, the twisting, the pulling, like tiny sparks of power. Then a few days ago I was reminded that it was still there. Out of nowhere it felt like something was being wrenched away from inside of me. Then it the feeling of the bond began to grow fainter everyday. The bond was supposed to be for forever. Now something was happening to it. I had to find out why. So I left. My parents rarely paid any attention to my whereabouts now. I could go for months without contacting them.
We were no longer close contacts with the Delavontás as before, but I found out about the new Delavontá situation and the escape. I followed the bond, feeling it getting stronger as I got closer. Not an easy process apparating to different continents and countries, but being apart of my soul I could tell even the slightest change in the bond, and eventually I found her.
I watched the two enjoying a playful banter, ending up in each other's arms. A sharp pain laced through my stomach and I realized just exactly what was going on. It must have been with him, Draco Malfoy was the other bond, the stronger bond. They must have been bonded both ways too for it to be so powerful even in its beginning stages. The bond that was slowly replacing mine. One person cannot have multiple bonds, it's just too much pressure on the soul. So the most powerful one takes over. Mine was weak from not being near her for so long, but it was also old and made with strong magic. What was this new bond? How did it happen?
Would it eventually take over mine?
My hands clenched tightly into fists at the thought. I would not let that happen. I could already feel my bond being strengthened, simply by being nearer to her. If I could get even closer… Bonds don't just work by physical proximity, but also mental and emotional. Draco Malfoy may be closer to her physically now, but even I know he would never even get closer to her mentally or emotionally. He's Draco Malfoy; she was only Hermione Granger, mudblood and mostly likely enemy to him before. But I… I can get close to her… in every way. My hands unclenched as a plan began to form in my mind.
I watched as two continued through the door.
For right now I would lie low. Explore a little. See how I can work this rather interesting situation to my advantage in more ways than one. I will get closer to her once more. Closer to the girl who has basically been my life from 9 to 16.
I walked into the lesser-known inn, The Crescent Moon. Though the Tiger Lily was ideal, I didn't want myself known just yet. I needed somewhere a bit more… secluded than there. Somewhere that wasn't so… in tune with its resident's… actions.
"Hello, I'm Emily. How may I help you today sir," the girl at the counter said. She had a soft voice, her light brown hair falling into her face a bit as she looked shyly down. I leaned over the counter, catching her eye. I gave her a disarming smile. Another one of my specialty traits.
"Hello Emily, I'm Alexander," I said just as softly, though my tone held none of her shy, naivety. The sinister undertone of my whisper was enough to make her tense slightly, yet send a tingling shiver down her neck. "I was wondering if I could have room." The girl blushed prettily, fumbling with the computer keyboard.
"Of course, Mr. Alexander. May I ask how long you will be staying?" she questioned, her wide brown eyes blinking up innocently at me. Ah, how I loved the feeling of power I had over her. She could not even dream up the kinds of things I could do to her. I smirked.
"Indefinitely."