Title: Un Océan Entre Nous [An Ocean Between Us
Author: moi, mypaperwrists
Rating: M for later chapters
Synopsis: After Draco's parents are killed, he's forced to move to a new - muggle - home. More specifically, the Granger's home. DracoHermione M Year 4
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters all belong to J.K. Rowling. I do not claim to own them, nor am I making any profit. Also, the titleAn Ocean Between Us belongs to As I Lay Dying.
A/N: This came from the hairy mind of Rabite'Rin. I had asked her what kind of fanfiction she wanted to see, so she gave me this idea and told me she wanted smut. Well...that's what you'll get, but you're going to have to wait a few chapters. P It's been quite a while since I've written anything Harry Potter, and it's also been quite a while since I've written anything more than PWP. So, I'm trying this. And, I'm going to try to finish it. Oh, and...the title and chapter titles will be the only times you're subjected to my poor French translations. The title comes from the title of an As I Lay Dying song and album title, and really has nothing to do whatsoever with the story. It's just simply a good song. And, that may also give you an idea of my writing music.
Dedication: To Rabite'Rin, since this is pretty much yours entirely anyway. Plus, you're somewhat helping my block, so yay:D
Leave a review! Give me your opinions! I appreciate and enjoy them, and promise a reply to every single one. And, also a chapter dedication. wink
Un Océan Entre Nous - Chapitre Un
"Guess what, Hermione? You're getting a new brother tomorrow!"
Hermione's eyes grew a little, and left her plate to look at her mother's relatively flat stomach. "Ugh...Mum?"
"Oh. No, no, no. Well...obviously not," her mother mumbled, running her thin hand over her belly. Hermione watched as she moved her hand up to her moth and began biting on her thumbnail. "Maybe I should have worded that better. You see...well, you do remember that explosion last week outside of London?"
Hermione's shoulders immediately tensed and her eyes narrowed. She did remember hearing about that explosion on the muggle news...as well as reading about it in the Daily Prophet. Ten or so Death Eaters were supposed to have had a run-in with the Ministry, and the battle had ended in a bloody mess that the Ministry had barely been able to cover up. And, if her memory served her right, there had been a few familiar names on the list of casualties...
"This poor young man's parents - both of them! - died in that horrid fire. And, your father and I have decided to let him stay here for the remainder of the summer." She was wringing her hand, looking at Hermione anxiously, as if for approval...
And, Hermione gulped down the bit of muffin she had left in her mouth, looking off to the side of her mother, concentrating on a bird perched on the branches of a Hollyhock bush outside their window. Should she even bother to ask? "Oh? And, what is this young man's name?"
"Oh! Uhm...I believe your father said it was...Draco?..."
I knew it. What luck you have Hermione Granger! She could feel the blood beginning to heat and simmer under her skin, and her hand unconsciously formed a fist on the table where it was resting. She could just imagine it now: Draco Malfoy, the pureblood muggle-hater, there in her house. With her muggle parents and "Mudblood" self. She couldn't imagine the first day - no, the first minute - passing without a full-blown argument ensuing. Or worse, a wizard duel. He would be all too close to her defenseless parents. Why, he could...
"No!" she burst, slamming her fist down onto the table, feeling it rattle in protest. "Mum, he's...vile. You can't--"
"Oh? You know him?"
"Yes. But, that's not the point!" Hermione was now biting her lip, trying her best to imagine and excuse that could convince her mother to change her mind without putting her in too much of a panic. "He...he comes from a wealthy family. I'm sure there's someone. A butler or something...and he'll be fifteen soon! He's nearly old enough to--"
"Hermione Granger!" Her mother's sudden interference caused her mouth to shut quickly. She watched as her mother walked across to the kitchen, shaking her head on the way. "I don't know what has gotten into you, but this is going to happen whether you approve or not. This boy has no one in the entire world left to care for him. I had hoped that you would be able to be a...friend at least. Plus, you already seem to know him from school..."
"So, you know he's a wizard then?" She watched her mother with big eyes, and when she saw the slight hint of a nod, she took a deep breath. "Then you should think about how dangerous he could be. You know that not all wizards are good. And, Mum, hehates--"
"That is enough, Hermione! Now, please finish your breakfast. I'd like to have the dishes done before work."
Crestfallen, and completely clueless as to how to stop tomorrow from coming, Hermione finished her breakfast in tortured silence.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I still don't get why I can't just stay here."
The blonde boy folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the number of houselves piling the remainder of his possessions into a large trunk. He was talking to himself more than anything, and it was really just meaningless moaning. He knew exactly why he couldn't stay. He knew he actually couldn't move back into the Malfoy mansion on his own until he was seventeen. What he really didn't get was why he had to live with a family of filthy muggles. Or, why it was Dumbledore's decision to put him there. He was almost a man, after all. He should have been able to decide that for himself.
Pushing himself up from the cushiony chair he was sitting in, Draco began making his way back to his bedroom. As strange as it seemed to most people, he was relatively...fine, considering everything. He supposed that he could be mourning the loss of his parents, but it wasn't as if they had been the loving type, exactly. His father was a tyrant, to say the least, and his mother had been as equally emotionally unavailable. He hadn't really spent too much time with them at all. He had formed as little a bond as possible, if any. So why should he feel love and remorse now?
He pushed open the large wooden door to his room and immediately went for the bed, flopping himself down on the velvety sheets and staring up at the ceiling. A rather old poster depicting the Weird Sisters, looking as hairy and ragged as ever, was staring back at him. "You know," he half-whispered, sneering to himself. "I think you may be the only thing I'll miss about this stupid old room. Too bad I have to leave you behind, really." He laughed a bit before picking up a pillow and throwing it toward the ceiling, laughing even harder when he saw the Weird Sisters flinch and then scowl down at him. He caught the pillow between his arms and hugged it to his chest, breathing in the musky scent and sighing.
Maybe he would miss a good few more things than his poster.