Chapter One: You!
Thunder boomed loudly, sounding very much like a thousand drums were beating outside the house. The wind howled against the window panes, making them rattle and shake, creating a spooky disturbance. Hermione shuddered and continued fixing dinner. Her parents had gone away to the mountains again, but Hermione had decided to stay home. As she had said before, skiing wasn't really her thing.
Hermione strode over to the counter and turned on the radio, fiddling with the knob for a few moments before finally tuning in to a station. The music helped to soothe her. She wasn't afraid of storms, but did not exactly welcome them, either.
She pulled a pot out of a cabinet and filled it with water, humming along to the song that the station was currently playing. She banged the pot on the stove and switched on the gas. Next she pressed a tiny knob which ignited the gas, creating a slow, steady flame. Hermione checked her watch and saw that it was half past seven. The spaghetti would take a good ten minutes to boil. She decided that she would be able to risk a few pages. Striding out into the hallway, she hurried upstairs to get her book.
...Their eyes locked in a fiery, intense gaze. Shafts of soft light shone on his blond hair, painting it golden. He moved nearer to her, and finally, their lips met in the kiss they had yearned for since the moment they met. He slid a hand through her wavy hair. The complete bliss she felt sent shivers running down her spine; and she at long last whispered the three beautiful words he had been waiting to hear. "I love you."
Hermione sighed and closed her book. A small wistful smile was playing on her lips. Everyone thought that she only cared about her books, her studies. Of course, that was what everyone expected from Miss-Perfect-Hermione. Nobody knew that, she, like everybody else, needed someone. Someone to love her, someone to comfort her when she was down. Unfortunately,Hermione had still not found that special person. How could she? With her boringbrown hair, studious attitude, and absolutely zero knowledge of current fashions. Hermione was not at all like Lavendar or Parvati, who could charm boys with a simple toss of their hair (a wink was optional). Even Percy had managed to find a girlfriend! So she had taken to reading fat romance novels during the summer. Seriously, she had hormones too!
Still sighing, Hermione checked her watch. Oh, crap! It was already seven forty-five! She scrambled down the steps so hurriedly that she tripped and landed ungracefully on the landing.
"Ow..." Hermione rubbed her sore back gingerly, and continued to lie there for a while longer, until she finally remembered the overcooked noodles still boiling in the kitchen. Hermione stood up immediately and dragged herself across the hall to the kitchen.
Brring! Brrring! Brrrring!
Oh of all the - ! After the stove had been switched off, and the sauce heated up, Hermione had gone upstairs to pursue the final chapter. She had been enjoying her meal heartily when the blasted doorbell had rang. She stumbled down the stairs, her hair in disarray from lying on her pillow. Hermione ran a hand half-heartedly through her hair, in a futile attempt to neaten it. By the time she had gotten onto the first floor, the ringing had stopped.
When Hermione finally had the door open, she noticed at once what she thought was a big bundle of grey robes on the front porch. At first she thought that WizEx had been around. But then, suddenly,therobes stirred and she heard a feeble moan issue from it. Startled, she jumped back.
Heart beating abnormally fast, Hermione inched a fraction closer to the...thing. Shuddering, she leaned over and prodded it with her finger. In reply, the bundle gave a jerk and the robes fell off, revealing a platinum blond head.
"Malfoy!" Hermione was puzzled and shocked. Why had he come here? She knew that Malfoy lived a large manor, complete with personal house-elf service. So why leave all those riches and venture into the Muggle world? Didn't Malfoy detest Muggles?
Malfoy seemed equally surprised and disgusted to see Hermione. Nevertheless, he croaked out a feeble greeting.
"Granger...escape...Father...not safe...Wizarding...I hate you."
With that said, he closed his eyes and blacked out.
Hermione was both puzzled and annoyed by Malfoy's words. 'I hate you'. What a way to greet someone! But she couldn't just leave him there, sitting in the rain. Hermione proposed that Malfoy must have dragged himself to the nearest house he saw. Just then, lightning flashed and she gasped in horror. Malfoy had long, deep gashes etched into his face. He was bruised badly, with both his eyes an unwelcoming shade of blue.
Wincing, Hermione heaved him from then doorway and pulled him into the living room and onto the couch. Hurrying around, she wet some towels, brought out the antisepticand began to tend to his wounds. Half an hour later, with all Malfoy's injuries cleaned and nursed, Hermione collapsed, exhausted, onto the sofa next to him and drifted off into a deep sleep.
The chirping of birds in the backyard finally roused Hermione from her sleep. She glanced over to the occupant next to her and saw that Malfoy was sleeping soundly, his hair falling into his eyes. And there she had been hoping it had all been a horrible dream. She was curious as to why he was that badly injured, and why he had even been on her porch in the first place. But she decided that she would let him rest for now and bombard him with questions later.
That moment, Draco shifted in his sleep. Perhaps it was the change of position, or the way the early morning light fell across his eyes, but suddenly, Hermione felt a strange urge to brush away these long, light tendrils of hair that fell into his eyes.
Realising what she had just wanted to do,Hermione slapped herself mentally. Was she sick? Shaking her head and rubbing her bleary eyes, Hermione headed into the kitchen to start making breakfast.
Hermione had already started eating when Malfoy entered the room, apparently having recovered. The long marks on his face had faded a little and his black eyes were considerably lighter.
"I'm hungry," he stated simply. Then, true to his personality, he added, "So is your cooking that good or did you order take-out? And, by the way, what am I still doing here?"
Hermione felt angered by his remark. Didn't she so hospitably take him in last night? Heal his wounds? Let him sleep on her couch?
"Weren't so cool last night, were you?" Hermione replied placidly.
Malfoy flushed a deep shade of red and seemed unable to come up with a retort. "You know what, I really don't know what I'm doing here," Malfoy spat.
"Then leave," Hermione snapped. "As if I'd be worse off without you. I don't know what you're doing here either."
"The question wasn't directed at you, it was intended for me," Draco answered evenly. "I should just leave right now."
"Fine."
"-It's okay," Hermione said abruptly when she saw the startled look on his face at her agreement. Had he really thought that no one could resist having him around? Well...she supposed he was a little...good-looking. No, wait, he's not! Hermione thought frantically. He's a brat, and that's all there is to him. Period. But, she, in spite of herself, felt a pang of pity towards him.
"You can stay here for awhile...I guess," she said slowly and hesitantly. Another surprised expression emerged on his face. Hermione shrugged unsurely and turned away from him. "I'm human, you know. I'm not heartless..." she murmured.
She was still recovering from the shock of his sudden appearance. It wasn't every day you discovered your arch-enemy bleeding on your doorstep and having no choice but to take care of him.
"Here, sit down." She got out a plate and spooned on some bacon and eggs.
Hermione could tell that Malfoy was now completely bewildered by her behaviour, though relieved. He was clearly hungry. Hermione waited until he had finished his second helping before she hesitantly broke the silence.
"Malfoy...what are you doing here? Why aren't you at home? And, of all the houses, why did you have to pick mine?" Hermione added exasperatedly. "What kind of a coincidence is that?"
Malfoy had stiffened at her first two questions and was busy choking.He gulped a mouthful of water before answering fiercely. "I don't call that place a home," he spat. "And I didn't choose your house - why would I even want to? It was entirely bad luck - and don't ask me any more questions."
Hermione was offended, but said no more. She didn't feel that it was the best time to question him yet. Just mentioning last night's encounter got him enraged. Turning her back to him silently, she went upstairs to calm herself and settle her flurry of thought.
"You can still leave if you want to!" she said half-heartedly over her shoulder. Although she had been lonely over the summer, she hadn't exactly been wishing fervently to have her nemesis stay for the summer.
