The Missing Pureblood -Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter world. Anything wrote is a figment of my imagination, with the help of good prompts. -Crimson Cloak
Five Years after the War:
Hermione took in the sights that greeted her when she apparated to a safe place outside the lovely Paris, France. She had never been here before and was excited at the adventures that awaited her. After graduating top of her class at Hogwarts and accepting a position in the Ministry as a coordinator for the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare, she decided to use some of the gold that was piling up in her vault at Gringotts Bank and travel a little. First on her list was Paris, then Ireland, and wherever else her heart led her. Staring at the marvelous Eiffel Tower in the distance, she strolled along the cobblestone sidewalk to the lavish wizarding hotel where she had booked an elite suite for the next five days. Five whole days, she thought. Five days without Shacklebolt breathing down her neck, five days without Ron haunting her after the bad break-up that had fractured their once close friendship, and five days without having to keep up false appearances. Since the end of the War, she had difficulty sleeping and got 4 hours on a good night, at best, before her torture at Malfoy Manor caused her to shoot up in her bed, drenched with sweat. No amount of sleeping draught potions or calming potions could bring her back to a sense of normalcy, so she had just learned to live with it.
She reached the lavish hotel aptly named Noble Willow Resort and entered into the lobby. She quietly gasped as she took in the lavishness of it. Merlin! she thought. A row of polished wooden counters flanked the back wall, situated under a beautiful skylight. Luscious floral arrangements gracefully adorned either end of the counter row, their delicate aromas giving off a pleasant scent. To the left was a well-kept waterfall, with Koi fish swimming in the small pond at the bottom. To her immediate right was a bank of shiny golden elevators that reflected her slightly disheveled look, an effect of having apparated several times that day. I knew I should have taken a long-distance Portkey. Next time I'll learn, she mentally scolded herself. Located across from the elevators was a comfy, but lavish seating area dotted with white couches and rich blue armchairs, paired together with shiny mahogany coffee and end tables, all arranged akin to a massive roaring fireplace. The entire lobby was pulled together by gorgeous marble flooring and rich wooden paneling, a shade lighter than the coffee and end tables. Hermione let out a heavy sigh and proceeded to the counter where a smiling witch greeted her.
"Welcome to the Noble Willow! My name is Matilda. How may I help you today?" "Hello," Hermione smiled back. "I have a suite reserved under the name Granger." "Ah yes, madam. If you'll sign in here our bellhop will take your bags to your suite!" Hermione quickly signed the book and handed the concierge the galleons to cover the cost of the room. "I won't need a bellhop; I only brought one small bag." "Very well then madam. You are located on our 19th floor, room number 1908." The woman handed Hermione the key and directed her to the elevators. Hermione pressed the button to call for an elevator and waited impatiently for it to arrive.
Once it did and the doors dinged open, she jumped inside and proceeded to mash the button to close the doors, but not before another person could join her. She glanced at the person who was intruding on her privacy she hoped to have while riding up to her suite and smirked appreciatively. A tall, lanky, but well-muscled man stood on the other side of the car, not speaking. Hermione did a double-take, realizing at once that it was none other than Draco Malfoy. "Wonderful," she muttered, not realizing she had said it out loud. "Pardon?" the handsome blond drawled in his sexy accent. He looked up and his eyes widened. "Granger! What are you doing here? I didn't know you could afford such a place as this," he sneered. Hermione huffed and replied: "For your information, Malfoy, as it so happens, I was given a tidy sum by the Ministry for my efforts in saving the wizarding world. Something you can't say that you helped with." she sneered back just as coldly at him as he did her. How wrong she was, he thought. He started to open his mouth again, but thankfully the ding of the elevator spared Hermione from listening to him anymore. She shoved past him and off the elevator, with him hot on her heels. She wheeled around and gave him a withering stare. "Where do you think you're going?" "It just so happens Granger, that my suite is also on the 19th floor. Problem?" He smirked, and she almost went weak in the knees. What is wrong with me? It's Malfoy for Merlin's sake! She merely huffed and continued down the corridor until she arrived at Room 1908.
She heaved a thankful sigh and inserted the key into the lock and allowed the door to swing open. She strolled inside, her shoulders immediately relaxing. A grand suite awaited her behind the door. Plush carpeting accented by pale green walls gave off a calming vibe. A cherry wood king-sized bed flanked the eastern wall, made up with crisp white linens, mounds of pillows and a beautiful golden duvet. Two wing-back chairs accented by golden throw pillows sat at the other end of the room on either side of French-style doors leading to a private balcony that gave a peek of the gorgeous flower gardens below, with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. A few potted plants accented the room, drawing it together perfectly. A matching chest of drawers sat against the wall across from the bed, a nice television placed on top. She noticed the closed door behind the other wingback chair and ventured over to it. Opening it, she let out an unladylike squeal. A luxurious bathroom! Marble fixtures, white walls with polished wooden floors. she was slightly overwhelmed. She stepped in and took in the sights. A walk-in closet flanked the wall on the right side, near the door. Past the door, a marble sink sat in a polished counter with a tray of assorted toiletries and complimentary items arranged on one side. Black fixtures adorned it, with matching mirrors and sconces hung above it. Past the sink, a walk-in glass shower was nestled in the corner, twice the size of the one in her flat in London. Merlin, she breathed. I could get used to this. The toilet was separated from everything else encased in a smaller room with a door that locked, for privacy. Finally, her eyes lighted on a gorgeous marble tub, the size of a small hot tub. Black iron fixtures, like to those on the sink, flanked one end, with numerous smaller golden taps on either side. She strode over to the tub and hesitantly turned one of the golden taps. A stream of shimmery pink liquid flowed out, a delicate
scent of flowers following. Bubble bath, she mused. Turning off the tap, she straightened up and exited the room, turning the lights off with a flick of her wand.
Hermione sat her ever-faithful beaded bag on the chest of drawers and opened it. Reaching in, she extracted everything she needed for the week and placed the items carefully in the drawers, making necessary trips to the bathroom to place items there. Satisfied, she wandered to the bed and flopped down on it, stretching out. Sighing contentedly, she was soon interrupted by a sharp knock on her door. She groaned and got up, going over to answer the door, only to find the lanky but handsome Draco Malfoy standing there, a slightly bored look on his face. A scowl replaced the relaxed smile on her face. "What do you want, Malfoy? I am trying to have a peaceful holiday, but your presence is effectively ruining that." He merely smirked and replied: "Why, Granger, can't I come to say hello and see that you got settled in?" The brunette scoffed. "You, wanting to make sure I had gotten settled in?" She laughed dryly. "Granger, I'm hurt!" Draco pouted, which was completely out of character for him, eliciting a quiet snicker from Hermione. "I'm sorry Malfoy, but it is highly uncharacteristic of you to check on someone else's well-being besides your own." Another huff came, but this time it left the mouth of the blond who towered well above her. "Merlin Granger, you won't even let me get a full sentence out!" he protested. "Fine, fine. What do you want, Malfoy?" Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy, the realization that she had apparated several times today, all of them long distances. A yawn escaped before she could stifle it. "I'm sorry Malfoy. I've had a long day. I apparated several times, long distances too, and I am utterly exhausted." The blond uttered not a word, but instead scooped her up and carried her back inside her suite. Hermione was so tired that she didn't even protest but allowed him to carry her, falling asleep in his arms. She's light as a feather, he thought. Before laying her down, he hugged her to him, then gently placed her down on the bed, after drawing the duvet and sheet back. He carefully removed her shoes and placed them neatly by the bed. He withdrew his wand from his inner jacket pocket and uttered a quick Multicorfors, changing the sleeping witch's clothing into pajamas, which happened to be his old Quidditch jersey and a pair of grey shorts. His eyes widened, and he blushed. How in Merlin did she get my Quidditch jersey? I've not had it in years… It then occurred to him. One night during their time at Hogwarts, seventh year to be exact, some Gryffindor girls snuck into the Slytherin dormitory on a dare from some of the Gryffindor boys, namely Fred and George Weasley. That's when it went missing. But Granger? She hates me. Why would she of all people steal my Quidditch jersey? He banished the thought and set to work dimming lights and drawing curtains closed after covering her with the sheet and duvet. Finished with his tasks, he quietly exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
When finally in the safety of the corridor, he exhaled hard. He shook himself and went back to his suite, which happened to be 1909, located across the corridor from Hermione's suite. His suite was identical to hers, except his was laid out the opposite way. He sat on the edge of the bed, mind reeling. Could I ever redeem myself with her? She's too good for me. I really messed up in Hogwarts with the bullying and blood prejudice. His rumbling stomach interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to summon an elf to order a light dinner. No sooner had he summoned the elf, when a tiny thing with ears almost as big as an elephant's, appeared in his room. "Yes, Master Malfoy? How can Tipsy serve Master?" the little elf bowed so low her nose touched her feet. "Can you please bring me a sandwich with pickle slices, crisps and one of those fizzy things—a sodi?" "Master must mean a soda," the elf replied. "Yes, that's it." "Tipsy will return shortly with master's food." The little elf disappeared with a quiet pop. Did I just say please to an elf? Merlin. I've been around Granger barely an hour and she's already softening me up. But in truth, the blond didn't mind acknowledging that. He could use some softening up. He was jolted out of his thoughts with the reappearance of Tipsy, bearing a covered silver tray. "Tipsy has brought Master Draco's food. The little elf snapped her fingers, the coffee table transfiguring into a round table, large enough to dine at, and deposited the tray on it. "Thank you Tipsy. That will be all," Draco acknowledged. He stood up and sauntered over to the table, seating himself in one of the plush armchairs. He lifted the cover and set it aside, tucking into the sandwich and crisps, occasionally munching on the dill pickle slices. His mind drifted once more to the thoughts that had been plaguing him ever since he left Malfoy Manor earlier that day. He hated that house, but per the will left by his father, he had to remain in it until he married, and only then could he sell it or demolish it. With his mother in St. Mungo's after a mental break-down, and his father in Azkaban for crimes committed against the Wizarding World, there was no-one else in the house except himself and a few house elves that insisted on staying to take care of their Master Draco. He sipped his soda, enjoying the tickle the carbonated bubbles created in his nose. He finished his meal in no time flat and left the tray for the elf to retrieve later. He stood up and went into the bathroom, closing the door. Quickly shedding his clothing, flexing his muscles, he stepped into the glass shower and turned on the taps, waiting for the water to heat up. He lathered up with soap, then rinsed off. He pondered many things, specifically that gorgeous brunette witch that seemed to have taken up space in his mind and his heart. Unable to help himself, he absentmindedly trailed his fingers down his muscular body, stroked himself over and over under the spray of the hot water, craving the release that quickly came, moaning her name unabashedly. Rinsing off again, he turned the taps off and exited the shower but was still unsatisfied. He needed her. In more ways than one. Toweling off, his hardness still evident when his fingers grazed it, a groan elicited from his mouth. He put on a pair of black silk boxers and padded back to his bedroom. Turning down the sheets, he climbed into the bed, spent from his little escapade in the shower. He uttered Nox and his room was plunged into darkness, sleep following quickly.
In the room across the corridor, Hermione thrashed in the bed, knotting the sheets. Before she knew it, she was on the floor, wide awake and drenched in sweat. She felt for her wand and turned on a bedside lamp with a flick of it. Looking at the time on the magical clock, it read 2:24 A.M. Groaning, she hoisted herself back onto the bed, knees shaky. She sighed and glanced down at her pajamas. How did I get changed into these?! A look of mortification marred her face briefly but then she recalled a disjointed memory of Malfoy carrying her to bed. She relaxed and slid off the bed and padded to the bathroom. Flicking the lights on with her wand, she went over to the sink. She turned the tap on and splashed cold water on her face, trying to cool off. She reached for a towel and patted her face dry, then looked into the mirror. A pale face stared back at her, bloodshot eyes adding to the look. She stifled a yawn and hung the towel up, leaving the bathroom after flicking the lights off with her wand. When she came back into the suite, she noticed how disheveled the bedding was. She made the bed back up without magic to ease her mind and make her focus on the task at hand. Smoothing the sheets, she climbed back into bed and settled amongst the mountain of pillows, picking up a novel she had brought along with her from the bedside table. She opened to the marked page and began reading, eyes growing heavy once more. Succumbing to sleep again, she dreamed of a handsome blond man with stormy grey eyes.