"This just really isn't fair, Professor! I know its 'universal tolerance' day but…him? Really?" – Hermione Granger.
A/N – I am not used to writing third person omnipresent. Bear with me.
These Games We Play – Chapter one.
The T.V. was beginning to grate on his nerves. He didn't usually concern himself with what went on downstairs but on that particular occasion he was irritated. He wanted to yell, and scream, and snap. But he knew better than that. So instead he stayed up stairs like an obedient child, completely quite, scribbling on the paper called 'The Daily Prophet.' Childishly he was drawing a mustache on the face of the person honored the front page, more out of boredom than resentment, not the he didn't hate him. He did. But right now his father was holding a 'meeting' downstairs and he was told to be quiet, which meant he couldn't listen to music, or destroy things like he typically enjoyed doing.
Just a few more months until he could use magic outside of school. He hated having to hide everything, not that his father didn't have enough pull with the Ministry to get him out of trouble if he 'accidently' cast the occasional spell. He gave up on his artistic attempts and tossed his pencil at the wall, irritated. He pulled open his window and climbed outside, being careful not to slip on the tilted roof. He allowed himself to slide down to the drain pipe and carefully lowered himself onto the ivy below. He attempted not to slip as he climbed down the tightly woven ivy and jumped down to the well manicured grass below.
He let out a sigh. "Finally." He mumbled, dashing off towards the front gate. He wondered how long it would take his parents to realize he was gone. Or if they would even care when they did realize. He frowned. What did he care if they cared or not? He didn't. He pushed his way through the wrought iron gate in front of the sprawling mansion and stepped onto the pavement below. It was as if the world had come to life before him. Suddenly he was on a crowded street sprawling with cars. Not far away was a shopping center and then a neighborhood of cookie cutter houses. The mansion behind him couldn't be viewed by typical muggle eyes all they saw was a forest and anyone unlucky enough to attempt to venture into the woods would have their memories automatically whipped.
He began walking down the street as if he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. His shoes were leather and making an irritating squeaking noise against the hot London pavement. He glanced around wondering what the best way to waste time in muggle London would be. Typically, he hated muggles with a passion and would head straight for Diagon Alley but today he felt like running away and that's just what he was going to do. He would be less conspicuous in the shopping center so he bee lined toward it.
It was a crowded center with two shoe stores, one restaurant and countless department stores with clothing hanging in the glass windows, and finally on the far end of the complex sat an old lonely pub. He dipped into the bar and took a seat on the end in a corner booth. The woman wandering around taking orders stopped at his table and gave him a wide, charming smile. "Ello' sweetheart" She said in thick accent. He tried to ignore her cleavage pouring out of her black shirt. "Can I get you something? An ale? Or our famous Killigan tea?" He frowned at her. He liked to think he looked older than he was but truthfully to any observant person it would be easy to tell he wasn't of drinking age. Was she testing him?
"No thanks" He waved it off "Just a Coke." He said. His own accent wasn't half as thick and wild as hers. She winked at him, scribbled his order, and wandered off. She must have been new. While he waited he tapped his pale fingers on the wood table before him observing the people around him. They were all vastly different but none looked half as suspicious as some of the fellows he ran into in Diagon Alley on a good day so he didn't take them into much account.
Until his eyes lay upon a pair in the opposite corner from him. He could hardly recognize them through the fog of cigarette smoke in the place but the sandy blonde hair and stark black hair was nearly impossible to miss. He clenched his fist and prayed for the first time in his life that he could just disappear. It just had to be them. Of all the people at the elite school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, known as Hogwarts, it HAD to be the two people he despised the most sitting opposite in the bar.
A fleeting thought of making a run for it hit him, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. The waitress sat his Coke before him, ignoring his tense expression, and wandered off. He strained his ears to hear what they were discussing but with the obnoxiously loud merry men around him it was impossible. He needed to get closer. In an attempt to be discreet he followed a rather large man towards the door, plopping into a booth behind the pair without being discovered and leaving his Coke abandoned. He didn't want it anyway.
From the table before him he could hear light giggles. "Yeah, he really was angry about it. I've had to hear his complaints nearly all summer! I don't know what he expects me to say to him. I mean, Ginny is her own person after all, if she wants to snog you, I can't stop her." There was a deeper laugh then.
"I just hope he doesn't stay mad." Was the answer her comment received. The one talking didn't seem very positive. They must have been speaking of the youngest Weasly boy. He shuddered in annoyance. If there were three people on this earth he hated most it was Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasly.
"He's been angry at you before and it didn't last too long. Just give him some time and he will come around" She answered.
"I hope your right. Let's get out of here, it's getting crowded." The pair stood up to leave and he panicked. He had never been one to hide before but he found himself ducking under the table in an attempt to not be spotted. It must have worked because they went passed him and exited the pub. He stood, determined suddenly, to follow them.
He kept a wide distance between himself and the pair, one boy and one girl, one black haired and one blonde. Whenever they would turn towards each other he would busy himself at looking somewhere either to the left or right of himself and pretending he didn't know they existed. Maybe he could do the dark lord a favor and kill Harry Potter right there on the streets of London? He fingered the wand in his pocket, tempted, but made no further move. If he made the wrong move he had no interest in being reprimanded for it later. So instead he tailed them, keeping low until they entered a house not too far away from the shopping complex.
It was a cookie cutter house with a mailbox with the name 'Granger' engraved in the side. A small compact car sat in the driveway and a picket fence separated it from the street. It was a middle class house and had no traces of magic around it. Surly the bookworm girl would have some type of defense? But he found none. He hopped over the gate and snuck around to the back of the house. The fence that enclosed the backyard wasn't locked and he gained easy access.
Wild vegetation enclosed the yard and hid it from the neighbors. Nearly four prim, bright gardens lined the edges of the fence and the glass screen door leading into the house was left unlocked. Against his better judgment, he pulled the door open as quietly as possible, and stepped inside. The house was cute and colorful, well kept and clean, much different from the musky dark mansion he was used to staying in. The place felt kind and comfortable, a feeling that made him uneasy. He could hear voices wafting from the upstairs. He headed up silently in hopes that they would spill some vital information he could offer to the Dark Lord.
He never once thought about what he was doing. It wasn't hard to find the girls door. It was wooden with a poster of Matilda Hawthorne on the front. She was a popular wizard chemist and writer, beautiful to boot. The picture didn't do her justice. The door was thin and he didn't even need to lean in to be able to hear what they were saying.
"No, my parents don't get home until five." The girl said. Her voice was slightly strained, as if she were frustrated.
"Well maybe we could play a game of chess" The boy joked. "It seems like a stupid idea to discuss anything important…though rather here than my house."
"Yeah, I don't know how much more of your cousin I can take." She giggled again. The sound rang like bells.
"It's not my fault he thinks you're the most amazing and beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. Besides his mother." They both roared laughing. He frowned. He couldn't bear listening to this. He wasn't even sure it was typical behavior considering he had never had a 'friend' he gave a rat's ass about. Just people he used and controlled with fear like Crab and Goyle. Technically, he hated those buffoons. But they were a necessity so he kept them around. Maybe if he hadn't grown up in a home with a famous Death Eater he would know what friendship entailed, but considering he had and he didn't he found their conversation nauseating.
Once the laughing had subsided they changed subjects "I hear that Tonks and Lupin are going to have a child. Are you excited?" He frowned. Tonks the shape shifter woman was his cousin and as estranged as his family was from hers there was a black mark on the family name when it came to her marriage with Remus Lupin the werewolf.
"I'm going to be its godfather."
"Harry…I" But there was nothing she could have said. And so the conversation died. He stood up to leave, bored. But the minute he reached the edge of the stairs the front door swung open and a woman stepped in. She bore a striking resemblance to Hermione and her emerald eyes landed on him for the faintest second.
And then she screamed.
He opened his mouth to protest without thinking that he should have made a run for it but it was too late. The bedroom door behind him swung open and upon laying eyes upon the stranger in her house Hermione ripped out her wand, directed it towards him and yelled "Stupefy."
"Malfoy?" His enemy questioned just before the attack hit him.
His world went black.
A bout of nausea hit him as the effects of the stupefy charm wore off. He expected to wake up in jail be it wizard or muggle for breaking and entering but instead he was on a worn sofa covered in orange flowers. He groaned. Where was he? The same clean, comfortable feeling enveloped him. He must have still been in Grangers house.
He sat up, his head spinning with the room, and glanced around. From what he could tell there wasn't anyone in the room with him but the voices weren't far off. "No, sir. I promise you she was just startled. I actually invited the boy over for a cup of tea. It won't happen again." It was a woman's voice. One he didn't recognize.
"Yes I am truly sorry. He just took me by surprise and I…panicked." Hermione defended her underage use of magic.
"Fine." Someone snorted. "But if this happens two more times, you know what the consequences will be" the voice was deep, gruff and angry.
"Yes of course." She said. Then the older woman's voice bid the man goodbye and he heard the door close. If he felt like he could have stood up without losing the contents of his stomach he would have taken off but he could hardly sit up. 'That girl packs one hell of a defense spell' He noted. Inevitable the three people poured into the living room, all looking oddly confused, and staring him down.
"I see your awake" The woman said, obviously Hermione's mother. He didn't say anything. He had been caught and he was in SO much trouble. His father would probably have him killed for this. And no, that's not a joke.
"What were you doing in my house Draco?" Hermione spat, venom playing in her green eyes. He was a little taken aback by her hostility. He thought she was a pushover but she was proving him different.
"Spying" Harry answered for him, standing protectively close to Hermione.
"Why?" She asked glancing at Harry and cutting Draco completely out of the conversation. "It's not like he was being entirely stealthy about it." She added. "You could have given my mother a heart attack!" She said suddenly, turning back to face him. His platinum hair hung in his face. They were being oddly calm. If he were anyone else he probably would have apologized but never, ever would he apologize to Granger the Mudblood. Ever.
He puffed his chest out defensively "You know why!" He snapped his voice sharp "Because you-know-who commanded me too. Why didn't you just kill me?" It was a stupid question "Or turned me over to the authorities." Why did they allow him to rest in their living room, the one he had broken into, and then covered for him with the Ministry?
"You have no reason to be defensive, Malfoy. You're the one breaking into people's houses. How did you even get in here?" Hermione asked. Her face was almost impassive.
"The door was unlocked." He said, realizing that if he told the truth they may just let him leave without any trouble.
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances then said 'whoops' in unison. The mother looked at them, clearly angry. "Sorry mom. I guess we forgot to lock it when we came in…" Hermione trailed off.
Draco blinked, confused. Were they all mad? He had BROKEN INTO THEIR HOUSE for god's sake! Why weren't they calling the authorities, yelling at him, something! This was no time for them to argue amongst themselves. "Well, if that's all settled then I will just be going" He said, standing up. He took one step forward and hit the ground again; his knees felt more like jelly than anything.
"God" Hermione snapped "Help me get him back on the couch. And for your information, Draco, this is why we didn't turn you in. I hit you with a little more power than I meant too." She said as Harry grabbed him roughly under the arms and dropped him back onto the couch.
"Damnit Potter" He growled as his world began swimming again. "So what are you going to do to me?" He asked. He expected disembowelment, torture, or at least a nice slap across the face. Maybe they were just waiting for her father to get home so he could issue Draco's punishment? Whatever it was the waiting was going to drive him insane. His fate felt very uncertain.
"I think you got all you had coming to you" The mother intervened before Harry had time to give Draco a verbal ass kicking. "You didn't hear anything that you couldn't find in the next issue of 'Teen scene magazine' did you?" She gave him a questioning look. He just stared at her because he had no idea what she was talking about. "I didn't think so" She said with a smirk.
"But I suggest you don't try that again. Where did you even find this place? Did you follow us from the pub?" Hermione opened a torrent of questions.
"Yes" He answered, flatly. There was no use making things up. If he wasn't more afraid of his father than he was of these two he would have used his magic to get him out of this mess. But he was, so he didn't. He just sat on the couch with a flabbergasted expression plastered to his stark white face staring into the eyes of two of his enemies.
Her frown deepened. Harry was just regarding him with a guarded expression, shaking his head. "You were lying when you said the dark lord sent you, weren't you?" She asked suddenly, her expression shifting from irritation to slight fear.
"Yes." He stated again. He wouldn't explain his own warped motives to her. It would have been pointless anyway.
"As soon as you can stand properly, I think you should go." She said.
"With pleasure." It took all the strength he could muster but he fought the urge to throw up and pass out and instead made his way towards the front door. He walked in between Harry and Hermione.
On his way out Harry mumbled "see you at school" which sounded more like a threat than anything and like a whipped dog, Malfoy slunk into the shadows and headed home, humiliated, defeated and feeling oddly…grateful.
For what though, he wasn't quite sure.