A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments), The QLFC, and THC.
House (THC & HSWW): Hufflepuff
Team (QLFC): Wimbourne Wasps
Assignment #3 (HSWW)
Task 4: Textiles and Clothing: Write about a Wizard trying to blend in wearing muggle clothing
Category: Short Story (THC)
Prompt: Wet Towel [Object]
Round 7 (QLFC)
Prompt: Write about two witches or wizards going undercover in a Muggle town and having to learn to live like Muggles.
Word Count: 2,895
The halls of the Ministry were crowded with workers coming in and out from meetings and lunch breaks. It was presumably simple for Kingsley Shacklebolt to slip through the grasp of the blonde that was hounding him. Unfortunately for Kingsley, this particular blond was Draco Malfoy, and he was not a man who could be shaken off easily. It was something Kingsley had needed to learn constantly since he had invited Malfoy to become an Auror. Despite his past, Malfoy had proven himself worthy of an Auror position after his defection to the DA during the final battle, along with some harsh training during the required course.
Not everyone liked Malfoy, with good reason, and the feelings were mutual; however, that didn't make him any less of a quality employee. So when Kingsley assigned him and a partner to go undercover for some suspicious magical activity in Plymouth, he had thought it would be a good opportunity for Malfoy to really prove that he was a changed man.
There were some things that never changed.
"I demand that I am given a new partner this very second!" Malfoy shouted through the crowd behind Kingsley. "This is unacceptable!" If Malfoy could get away with Stupefying him and not get fired, he was sure he would already be stunned at the blond's feet.
"It's not as bad as it seems," Kingsley said, when Malfoy managed to catch up to him. He eyed the blond man sternly. "You two are my top aurors and perfect for the job. With no magic being able to be used on this assignment, Herm—"
"Don't you dare utter her name right now." Malfoy rubbed his temples. Kingsley had nowhere left to run because they had arrived at his office. Malfoy folded his arms and looked at the man expectantly. "We don't exactly see eye to eye, and you know it."
"It wouldn't be that way if you stopped picking on one another when your paths cross."
"I didn't start this!"
A scoff could be heard from the door. "Are you serious? You started this the minute we conversed in Hogwarts!"
Malfoy whipped his head to the door and scowled. "See? You woke up the banshee."
"How dare you?" Hermione's voice rose as she walked closer to the smirking blond in front of Kingsley's desk.
"I dare humorously—"
"Enough. Both of you!" Kingsley thundered as he slammed his fists on his desk; his voice resonated through the room, causing anyone who was passing by to stop and look. Kingsley slumped into his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Now that I have your attention," he began pointing at Malfoy "you are going to be going to Plymouth with Hermione. End of discussion."
Draco muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but he didn't argue. Kingsley turned his finger in Hermione's direction. "Now what were you coming in to say?"
Glaring at Malfoy, Hermione cleared her throat and turned to the head Auror. "I was coming to discuss the details of the assignment," she said. "Seeing as the partnership is non-negotiable, I have no choice but to accept and continue from here."
A snort could be heard from said partner, making Hermione elbow him in the ribs. Malfoy snapped his head towards her with narrowed eyes; he rubbed his side and mumbled under his breath again. Kingsley shook his head before he reached for files on his desk and handed two folders to them both.
"You'll be staying together in one of the homes in the neighborhood of the suspicious activity. It's been well stocked for a week or two, but that means you'll be going out on your own to purchase and gather other things as actual Muggles." Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair. "Any questions so far?"
Malfoy raised his hand. "I won't ask the obvious of you being completely mad," he said while shaking his head. "But staying in the Muggle neighborhood wouldn't conceal our magic so…"
"We're not using magic in this assignment, are we, Mr. Shacklebolt?" Hermione interjected. Malfoy frowned at her question before his expression turned to appalled when Kingsley nodded.
"Is that why you think I need her?" Malfoy demanded.
"You wouldn't last in the Muggle world without me," Hermione stated with a smug grin. Malfoy was prepared to say something insulting before Kingsley interrupted him by clearing his throat.
"Yes, that is part of the reason," Shacklebolt continued to explain, "and I know there's no one better for this assignment than the two of you."
"We won't let you down, sir," Hermione told the head Auror. Malfoy mimicked Hermione's voice and a dramatic version of her facial expression; Hermione didn't take the bait.
"There will be a Muggle form of transportation there waiting for you, but you'll be arriving by Portkey, the only magic that you'll have before going undercover. It will take you there, but it will not bring you back." Kingsley slid a file to the middle of the desk, but neither Hermione nor Malfoy touched it yet.
"How will we be in contact?" Malfoy questioned.
"The same way that Muggles communicate."
"You mean fexting on those blasted mobiles they use?" Malfoy asked incredulously.
Hermione cleared her throat to cover her laughter. "It's called texting, Malfoy," she corrected. "How will you receive the messages here?"
"Yes, that," Kingsley responded with a chuckle. "There will be an unknown middleman who will receive the texts and report them back magically to me."
It was easy to assume the middleman to be Tonks or Harry, so the pair didn't ask for further details. Pleased with the silence and his explanation, Kingsley gave Hermione and Malfoy a nod.
"Off you go. I wish you both the best of luck and hope for a fast return." Shacklebolt clapped his hands together. "One last thing! You'll be impersonating a dating couple!"
Malfoy and Hermione narrowed their eyes at each other as they reached for the file Portkey before suddenly snapping their heads to Shacklebolt as his last statement. "What?" they shouted simultaneously. Not a second later, the pair were pulled uncomfortably through space to the home in Plymouth.
...oo0oo...
After catching his breath, Draco looked around the small house, nodding to himself. "A bit small for my taste, but I'm sure you'll do just fine."
Hermione, who had a hand on her stomach, gave Draco a sideways glance before placing her bag down and searching around the house. She assessed the stocked kitchen and utility closet as Shacklebolt promised before hearing a cheer from the other room. Hermione went to investigate and found Draco standing in the middle of the hallway with the doors open.
"Shacklebolt has proven he does mildly care for his workers, the bloody oaf," Draco said with a smirk. He left for the living room, leaving Hermione with a questioning look. She looked between the two doors and found that there were two identical bedrooms. As much as Hermione liked the thought of not sharing a bed with the arsehole, she did not like that he was constantly commenting on their partnership; plus, Hermione needed to have her point acrossed.
"Don't think that I accept this more than you," Hermione snapped as she poked his chest with her finger.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I was cheering like a bloody schoolgirl when I found out."
Hermione glared at him. "I don't care if we have to impersonate a couple. If you so much as touch me, tease me, or try me in any inappropriate way, I will castrate you in more ways than you'll be able to repair."
Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hold your fire, Granger," he said, "You're killing the fun atmosphere."
She snorted in response.
"Very ladylike."
"You don't deserve to receive manners from me."
"You're insinuating you have them?"
Hermione shook her fists frustratingly and stormed down the narrow hallway, muttering curses and how much she loathed Draco Malfoy along the way. She opened the door to the spare room, entered, and slammed the door shut.
Draco had remained in his spot the entire time, watching her from the distance of the living room. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it with a sly grin; this was not the assignment he hoped for, but at the very least, teasing Granger would have its perks.
Heading for the bathroom, Draco sighed; he would have to figure out a few of the devices on his own. His pride would not allow him to ask Hermione for help. He opened the door and observed the simplicity of the room; at the very least, Draco would handle using the bathroom.
...oo0oo…
Hermione opened her door at the sound of running water. A relieved smile was on her face; she could roam the kitchen as she pleased. Hermione crept out of her room, closing the door quietly. She then walked slowly down the hall to the kitchen. With thoughts consumed by the idea of food, Hermione hadn't heard the running water had ceased. Nor had she heard the quiet footsteps of her partner.
At the feeling of something stinging her back, Hermione turned around with a shocked look on her face. She was met with a smug Draco rolling up a wet towel.
"Did you just… did you just whip me?" Hermione demanded, holding the spot on her back that was hit.
"Were you trying to sneak somewhere without me?" Draco asked with a brow raised.
"No!"
"Then I didn't whip you."
Hermione balled her hands into fists before swinging one fist at Draco. Draco's reflexes were quicker as he stepped back from her punch.
"You've tried that once, Granger."
"And succeeded."
"Never again."
Hermione huffed, folding her arms. "Do you want something for dinner, Malfoy?"
Draco blinked incredulously. "Did I just win an argument?"
"I'll take that as a no." Hermione turned on her heel, grateful that the stinging sensation was subsiding.
He snarled before rolling his eyes. "Granger, wait. Of course I want dinner," he muttered.
Hermione sighed, knowing that it would be the best that she was going to get out of Draco at this point. "I'll have something ready within the hour."
Draco smirked. "Good. Don't keep me waiting." He whipped out the towel again, causing Hermione to instinctively flinch and back off. Her cheeks flamed as he laughed at her and walked back to the other room. It was then that Hermione realized that Draco was only wearing a towel around his waist; her face reddened once more.
...oo0oo...
He was lured in the kitchen by the smell of spices. That's where Draco found Hermione setting up the small table. In the middle was a large piece of meat with vegetables set on a platter.
"What is that?" he asked.
"It's a roast," Hermione answered as she placed the silverware down.
Draco eyed it suspiciously, reaching out to poke it with his finger.
Hermione slapped his hand. "Where are your manners?"
"Sitting in Shacklebolt's office."
"I actually believe that."
"I'd be more insulted by a House Elf."
"You're insufferable!"
"And you're infuriating!"
"Just sit down and eat."
"Fine."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
Frustrated, Draco took a seat at the table and stared at his carved piece of roast and vegetables on his plate before tentatively picking a piece on his fork and placing it in his mouth. As he chewed, Draco could taste the richness of the spices and juiciness of the meat. He could admit that Hermione had put effort into it, but he would not admit it out loud.
"Not bad, Granger. I've had better."
Hermione looked across the table at him. It was as good of a compliment as she would get, and she wasn't wanting to argue with so many weapons around that could potentially be the cause of his death. So she gave him nod of acknowledgement and returned to her own meal.
After dinner, Hermione was standing in front of the sink, washing the dirty dishes. Draco was sitting in the living room with one leg crossed over the other as he looked over the case file.
"I reckon that we should meet the neighbors tomorrow," he said, "since that's part of the reason we're here."
"I have no objections to that," Hermione replied from the kitchen as she wiped her hands with a rag once she finished using the sink.
"Isn't it nice just to agree with me?" Draco asked with a lopsided grin.
Hermione scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. "Isn't it nice just to act like a civil being?"
Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Make sure you're presentable tomorrow," he told her as he closed the file and stood up. "I'm going to bed." He looked at her briefly before shaking his head, sauntering down the hall to the room he had claimed.
She took a deep breath and exhaled, annoyed at his behavior. Deciding she was ready for long hot shower, she retreated to her own bedroom for the night.
...oo0oo…
The next day had arrived and Hermione and Draco were preparing for their act.
Draco waltzed out of the bathroom wearing a white, long-sleeved fitted shirt with a v-neck and dark denim jeans. He twisted his body and looked himself over. "Muggles know what they're doing when it comes to flattering a man's physique," he mused before heading to the living room.
Sitting on the sofa, he waited for Hermione to finish changing by putting on his socks and shoes. Half an hour later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom donning faded jeans and an off shoulder, coral colored sweater shirt. Draco tilted his head back to examine her.
"Took you long enough," Draco drawled, "but you might need more time to fix that nest on top of your head."
"I am in no mood to succumb to your ignorance today," Hermione replied as she folded her arms. "I'm going to get my flats and I'll be ready."
"Get a move on, then," he said, shooing her away. Hermione scowled before marching off to her room for her shoes.
When they were both ready, the pair left the house talk to their neighbors. With a hand grabbing Hermione's elbow firmly, Draco leaned toward her ear, attempting to look endearing.
"Remember to smile because you're hopelessly in love with me," he whispered.
Hermione looked at him in disgust. "That's going to be a challenge."
"A challenge, but not impossible," Draco said with a finger raised and a smirk. She shook her head and reached to knock on the door of their first neighbor. When it opened, Draco pulled Hermione close to him, causing her to squeak but place a forced smile on her face. The actions had become routine as they moved about to each house. Hermione's face was starting to ache. After the final door was closed, Hermione rubbed her jaw as they walked away.
"Could you be any more unprofessional?" Draco asked her with a shake of his head.
Hermione blinked at him incredulously. "I'm unprofessional?" she repeated loudly. "I'm not the one who was constantly bragging about the neckline of my shirt like a designer!"
At the mention of the shirt, Draco tugged at its sleeves. "At least I was actually speaking like a normal person," Draco retorted, "because you were as talkative as a broom."
"Perhaps it was because I was standing in close proximity to a snake."
"I would resent that but it's true."
She groaned before opening the door to their living space. Draco followed in step behind her with a chuckle. His stomach rumbled and he placed his hand on it. "So what's for breakfast?"
Hermione pursed her lips, biting back the insult at the tip of her tongue; it would be no use fighting with him when she was hungry herself. "I need to use the bathroom, so turn the stove top on to preheat if you don't mind."
"Asking a man to do a woman's job, how typical," Draco said with an eye roll.
"I'm not asking," Hermione replied as she went inside the bathroom, "I'm telling you to." She shut the door.
Draco's nose flared up before he took a deep breath and went to the stove in the kitchen. He was mumbling to himself about Muggle-borns and outrageous demands as he looked at the different knobs on the stove. He furrowed his brows as he realized that he didn't know how to turn it on.
He grabbed the knob and twisted it, but it wouldn't budge. Draco snarled and tried to twist it another way. It turned slightly but did not move any farther. He cursed under his breath and yelled, "Granger! How the bloody hell do I turn this thing on?"
Hermione entered the kitchen and raised a brow at Draco. She walked over to the knobs on the stove and pushed one of them in before turning it; once she did, it began to redden to signify that it was turned on. Hermione turned to Draco with a smug look.
"Not. A. Word," he told her before stalking out of the kitchen to his room. As he left, Hermione giggled to herself at Draco's ignorance of Muggle appliances. It was going to be absolutely aggravating to work in close proximity with him, but having knowledge of Muggle customs that he didn't possess would have its perks.