A/N: Hello people! I'm baaaaaack with an entirely new story!
Pair is Draco and Hermione!
Rated M.
BETA'd by my lovely best friend Mariam!
On another note the story is being translated into French. Check out my profile for the link. I hope you'll enjoy it!
So, read and review people! ;)
Enjoy...
Rennervate!
Chapter 1:
"I still don't understand why you are doing it?"
"Because I need a job, mum. They are going to pay me much more than any other family," said Hermione, as she pulled on her jeans.
Her mum was helping her to get her bags ready, as Hermione was going to leave for her new job.
"I mean, do you even know his child? What kind of family they have? I still remember that you never were good friends at school."
That part was true. She and her new employee were never friends, but considering the fact that so many years later after the war, Hermione still wasn't settled down with family and such, was surprising, to say the least. She was, after all, one of the members of the infamous Golden-Trio, the Gryffindor Princess and bookworm, the brightest witch of the generation and she was un-employed...till now.
A week ago, she had seen an ad in the Daily Prophet. At first she was shocked to see such an announcement from HIS family, but it was there, and they were going to pay real nicely, and she was un-employed. So, now she was going to work as a tutor and a nanny for the most famous wizarding family.
"Mum, I know that we weren't that close to each other, but I'm doing this, because I need a job...and the money, of course."
"Why not work for the Ministry? You are brilliant," her mum told her sincerely.
Hermione beamed at her, but then frowned and said, "I just...I could've worked, for them, but I-It'll be hard," she sighed and sat on her bed in her bedroom. "It'll be hard, to see Ron every day, not after that horrible day and our break-up."
Hermione and Ron went out with each other for five years, three years ago. They were the couple of the year, for Witch Weekly, every single week. Now, three years ago, they broke-up, but more specifically, Hermione broke-up with him, because he wanted to get married, have lots of children and not to work. He wanted the duplicate of his mother.
Hermione was not ready for such a thing. That's why she ended up with him back then, now he was happily married to Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, and they already had two children, a three year old boy and one year old girl.
She sighed and shook her head, and looked at her mum again, "And besides, I will work for them for couple of years, till he'll go to Hogwarts."
"I still don't know how to feel all about this, Hermione." Mrs. Granger said, biting her lip in thought.
"Just tell me, 'Hermione, dear, I'm happy that you have found a suitable work for you.' See? It isn't that bad, eh?"
"Oh, honey..." Mrs. Granger walked towards Hermione, sat beside her and gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm just worried. I don't even know how many times I'm going to see you."
"I'll write to you as soon as I can, ok? I think I'm going to, at least, get my weekends off and I'll come to visit you or write you as much as I can," said Hermione, returning the hug. Her mum grinned at her, then nodded. "Good, now that's settled, what am I going to wear?"
After an hour or so, Hermione settled with wearing a black button-down shirt, blue denim jeans and black flat shoes. She tamed her hair into curls and looked at herself in her full-length mirror. She looked descent and at the same time business-like. Good. She put her leather jacket on, grabbed her bags from her bed and started out of the bedroom door.
Hermione bounded down the stairs, dropped her bags at the foot of it and walked into the kitchen, where her mother was already making a tea for them, on the table were already her mum's homemade muffins, which Hermione adored much. She smiled slightly, sat at the table and grabbed a muffin, then munched on it happily. Even in her 'old' age, Hermione still loved muffins and/or pancakes. Her mum joined her at the table, she gave Hermione her tea.
"Thanks."
Mrs. Granger only nodded. "So, when are you leaving?"
Hermione checked her watch and said. "It's 09:00, I have to be there at least at 12:30."
"Where are you going? I mean, where's their house? Surely it's not in London."
"No, it's not. It's in Wiltshire," Hermione gulped down the rest of her tea, and stood up from her chair. "And I really must go, already."
They hugged briefly, before Hermione deposited her bags at the back of her Land Rover car.
"I'm going to miss you," her mum whispered to Hermione, as they hugged ones again.
"I'm going to miss you too, mum. Give dad my regards, when you go and visit him in hospital, ok?"
"Of course, love."
Hermione's dad was in hospital. He had a heart-attack a week ago. The doctors said that they had to have a surgery soon, but there was no much time for him.
"Ok, I'm going. Take care," she sat in her car and turned on the engine.
Her mum waved her till she was no longer seeing her on their street. Hermione from far side of the street beeped two times in farewell. Her mum only sighed and trudged back into the house, closing the door softly.
On highway, Hermione was thinking how her meeting with him will end-up, and if the kid was nice enough boy or if he as the same as his father was in his childhood. She shook her head and focused on her long road.
Far away from the Granger house and Hermione's car on the highway, in a black and haunted looking House a frantic house-elf was running about in the kitchen, preparing a meal for their guest. Her master told her to cook the most delicious meal she could ever think of. She was frantically looking at the cook book which was on the floor, when the door to the kitchen opened and a small six years old, with shockingly almost white-blond-ish hair boy, with grey eyes, walked in. He sat at the high bar chair and watched, in mild amusement, at the frantic house-elf.
"Binky," said the child, and chuckled in amusement, when Binky the house-elf stopped dead in her movements. She slowly turned around and looked at her second master the boy was so much alike his father; the same eyes, the same blond hair and the same aristocratic features, but the child had warmth in it, his father never had at his age. "You work too hard you know?" continued the child. "Why are you all over the kitchen?"
"Binky have to work hard. Master is expecting a guest. Binky is honored to serve the house of"
"Oh, come on Binky," the child said impatiently, cutting her off in mid-runt. "Stop talking about this house, you know father will have your head if you will ever talk about this house with such an awe in your voice….we both know his temper…" he mumbled under his breath. Binky looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "Anyway, she'll be here in an hour or so."
The childe plopped down from his chair and walked out of the kitchen, not before he heard the elf's frantic squeals. He smiled to himself as he walked down the corridors of his big house. The pictures at the walls were amusing. They always bowed low to him whenever he walked in front of them. They treated his father the same way, so he didn't have much to thought about their odd behavior.
After a while of wandering aimlessly in the house he stood in front of his father's office door. He took a deep breath, knocked the door, and then regretted it. His father could be so harsh sometimes, that it scared the shit out of him.
That's why he is hiring a nanny for me, so I won't be much on his way, he thought bitterly while waiting for the door to open.
Long at last, the door clicked open and the child pushed the door with shaking hands and peaked inside. His father was leaning down on some papers and was scribbling away madly. The boy gulped down his nervousness and shuffled inside. He knew that his father didn't like to be disturbed whenever he worked.
"Father?" he asked in a small voice.
His father's hand stopped in mid-sentence. He snapped his head up and locked eyes with his son's, who was biting his lower lip.
Draco Malfoy never liked to be interrupted whenever he worked. In fact, he never liked to be disturbed, even if he was just sitting and looking out the window, these days.Maybe this is why Astoria is always away on some stupid work vacation. Maybe she is bored of me. These thoughts haunted him greatly, but he never showed anyone that he was suffering inside, let alone shows something to his son. He patiently waited for his son to speak, who seemed like he was about to bit his lip off.
"Scorpius, you know that I don't have the time of the world to just sit here and look at you and not to do these papers here," he indicated the pile of work-sheets to his right. "So, speak now or you know where the door is."
Scorpius gulped again and started to stutter. Stutter? Really Scorpius! "I-I only wa-wanted to tell you, that m-my nanny will be here s-soon and you said that I h-have to wear f-formal clothes"
"Stop stuttering and make your point. I'm losing time here," Draco snapped at him, and with a pang of something foreign in his chest, saw his son take a step back.
Scorpius took a deep breath, released it and tried to talk to his father without a stutter, "I don't want to wear formal clothes, they make me feel uncomfortable." When he saw his father's eyes turn colder, he added quickly, "But if you want me to wear them, then I will. Sorry that I disturbed you…father" and he bolted out of the office as fast as he could.
Draco stared blankly at the spot where his son was a minute ago, then without changing his expression he returned to his work where he left off almost five minutes ago.