Lines of Communication
Chapter 1
May 2003
Hermione Granger, 23, cracked her knuckles and opened her laptop. She glanced at the clock. 10:16. Granted, it was a bit late, but she finished her research for work and wanted to say "hi" to her on-line friends before her working trip to France the next day. She worked for the Ministry in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and enjoyed the work immensely. There was never a dull moment. Her years with Harry and Ron prepared her well for the job.
She glanced at her picture of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's wedding day last year and smiled. Her friends were expecting their first child in three months. The picture next to it was of Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown on their wedding day, two years prior. They had no plans for kids any time soon. There was no picture of Hermione with a husband...yet. It wasn't from lack of trying, and Hermione was no quitter.
She wasn't about to just settle for anyone. Too many of her Hogwarts classmates had settled and her heart ached for them. No spark, no passion, just two people who said words in a ceremony and lived the rest of their lives with what amounted to having a roommate. She used her own parents' marriage as an example. After 25 years of marriage, they were still totally in love with each other. Just last week, Hermione dropped by unannounced and walked in on the two shagging in the den.
I hope I'm that spry and flexible at 44!
The past five years, she lost count of the number of dates she went on. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of first dates when either she or the bloke realized that they would be better off just friends. She was sure she held the record for the number of male friends a woman could have. What also irked her to no end was that she was sure that she was the only 23 year old virgin in England-no, scratch that- the planet! Her ancient cat Crookshanks, dozing on the sofa, probably got more action that she did.
The only two souls who knew of this fact were Minerva McGonagall, at present the Headmistress of Hogwarts, who admired Hermione for her "fortitude in the face of overwhelming odds" and Ginny, who often suggested that she just "visit a gigolo and get it over with." As appealing as the gigolo idea was, she truly wanted that special moment with the man she would pledge her life, heart and body to.
Just where the hell is he?
She opened her email to check for any new messages then opened the site for the chat room she usually visited. She looked at the roster of people currently in the room and took note of the ones she knew.
Rooster72; trackmaster; emeraldeyes; hangman; uni78
Emeraldeyes was Harry. There were only three people from the Wizarding world she knew of to have computers, they being Harry, Luna Lovegood and Arthur Weasley. Neither Luna or Arthur were online, so she typed her moniker bookworm and entered the chat.
emeraldeyes: Shouldn't you be in bed?
bookworm: Shouldn't you?
emeraldeyes: late night food run
Ah, Ginny must be having those odd food urges!
Rooster72: Hope you have fun in France!
emeraldeyes: Yeah, bring me a souvenir
A new name popped into the chat, Storm.
bookworm: Hello Storm! Everyone, welcome Storm to our little corner of the world!
Storm: so bookworm, what's in France?
bookworm: work thing
emerald-eyes: gtg bookworm, duty calls
bookworm: take care, give my love
Storm: you two know each other?
bookworm: yes, bff
Storm: bff?
bookworm: best friends forever
Storm: corny
bookworm: why thank you
Storm: You're welcome. What part of France do you hail from?
bookworm: I don't live in France, just going for work for a few days
Storm: So, where do you hail from?
bookworm: Britain
Storm: same here, whereabouts?
bookworm: see my profile
Storm: how do I do that? New to this
bookworm: click once on my name on the list of users, help button at top right hand corner is handy as well
Storm: London?
bookworm: correct; hate to cut this short, but I must go, early day tomorrow
Hermione exited the chat room, closed the laptop and prepared for bed and her trip to France the next day.
In his bedroom at Malfoy Manor, Draco yawned and closed his laptop. He slipped into bed and looked at the laptop. He never thought he would become so enamored of a Muggle device, but after having it for just three days, he was hooked. He was introduced to it by his best friend, Blaise Zabini, the last time he visited him in Italy. Blaise had discovered that computers were a great help in his search to expand his wine collection, his travels, and the numerous hours of cheap entertainment porn sites offered. Draco didn't care for the phony, impersonal approach to sex, but did become interested in chat rooms, on-line shopping and the wealth of financial information and business opportunities. It took him hours to come up with the 'Storm' nickname. He hoped it didn't sound too dumb.
On this particular night, he entered some search terms and came to a chat room where someone named 'bookworm' was going to France. It wasn't a particularly exciting chat, but it was late on a Tuesday night and this 'bookworm' did help him out. He often wondered about the personas behind the nicknames. He realized that was the great thing about computers: no one knew he was Draco Malfoy, son of one of the most reviled wizards to have ever lived in Britain. Now dead, Draco was free to dote on his mother, who had suffered for entirely too long thanks to his father. He was also to free to pursue whatever life he wanted for himself.
Ever since his turn to the "Side of Light" to help defeat Voldemort, there was no shortage of women to be with. The problem with this was that his mother was hinting quite a bit lately about him settling down with a nice witch and presenting her with grandchildren to spoil. How many times had he heard "I'm not getting any younger, and neither are you!"
He wasn't going to just settle; his mother did, and look where it got her! If he, Draco Malfoy, were going to have a mate for life, to share his life and fortune with- not to mention the happy chore of producing the next generation of Malfoy babies, it had better well be the perfect witch!