Bus Stop—Parts 3 and 4

By Marmalade Fever

Part 3

It was raining, but what else was new? Hermione drudged along the sidewalk, umbrella-less again. She was not exactly surprised to see Malfoy, waiting at the bus stop, as per usual. He turned, nodded at her, and adjusted his umbrella to give her some room beneath it.

"Morning," he greeted casually. He eyed the bags she was carrying. "What's all this?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "I've just been shopping, that's all."

"Shopping?" he asked, sounding somewhat surprised. "Really? You?"

She gave him a look. "What's that supposed to mean? Everyone shops."

"And I suppose you're included in the ranks of everyone, Granger?" he asked, staring a hole into one of her bags. "What've you got, there?"

Hermione coughed into her hand. "What? You want to know what I bought?"

He shrugged. "It's not as if I have anything better to do, you know," he explained. "Well, come out with it," he added, gesturing to her.

Hermione raised a brown eyebrow at him, but she shrugged. She opened one of her bags and removed a casual burgundy sweater. Malfoy snatched it from her and held it up for closer inspection. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said at first. "It's just that it seems a little too nice for someone who's usually so fashion-challenged."

Hermione tutted. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"What else have you got?" he asked. He reached into the bag and pulled out a salmon-colored knit top. "Ooh, now this I like," he praised.

"Well, I'm not going to let you borrow it," she warned, moving to take it back from him.

Malfoy held up a hand. "Not so fast. Did you pick this out?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, now give it back."

"No one else shopping with you?" he asked.

Hermione paused. "No, my aunt came with me," she said.

He half-frowned. "Hmm… tell your aunt that she has excellent taste." He handed the article back to her and reached into another bag to produce a slinky purple dress.

"Malfoy," she intoned, as he continued to stare at the gown.

"Hold on, I'm thinking," he said.

"Ha!" she laughed. "You? Thinking?"

He smirked at her. "I was just imagining what you'd look like wearing this thing," he said.

Hermione blushed. "And?"

"Not bad," he said, sending her a wink. She blushed more furiously.

"Okay, now that's really enough." She grabbed the dress from him and stuffed it frantically back into her bag.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said, twisting the umbrella in his hand.

"Who's embarrassed?" she said hotly.

"Why you, of course," he informed. He smirked at her as she glared at him.

"You do remember that I'm muggleborn, don't you?" she asked.

"So? Doesn't change how you look, now does it?"

She frowned. "You're really rather degrading to womankind, you know?"

He laughed. "All that from a compliment. Good grief, Granger, relax."

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms, staring out across the street. "Isn't the bus here, yet?" she asked impatiently. "I'm very ready to be rid of you."

Malfoy smirked. "Why? Do I bother you that much?"

Hermione turned and raised her eyebrow at him. "I'm not dignifying that question with a response."

His smirk widened. "It looks like some things do change." Hermione smiled slightly at this. Malfoy reached his hand into his coat pocket and removed a small bag. "Want one?" he asked.

Hermione looked at the jelly beans in his hand and shook her head no. "I don't have much luck with Bertie Bott's."

Malfoy rifled through the bag and removed a pink one. "Try this," he said, placing it in her hand.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, sniffed the bean, and threw it over her shoulder. "No thanks," she said.

He stared open mouthed at her. "That was strawberry," he stated.

"And why should I believe you?" she asked huffily.

Malfoy frowned at her, but then he shrugged with a smirk in place. "No reason, I suppose."

"Exactly. I have no reason for trusting you at all," Hermione agreed.

"Although…" Malfoy continued, "I do think I'm being rather dashing by allowing you to share my umbrella. I could very easily, I don't know, kick you perhaps, and send you sprawling into a mudpuddle. And we both know how much you love mud. It's in your blood," he added as an afterthought, chuckling.

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. "You wouldn't dare!"

He shrugged. "Then I guess you'll just have to trust your instincts, eh?" He reached into his bag and removed a bright yellow bean. "Lemon?"

Hermione laughed. "I've seen that color before, you know."

Malfoy's debonair expression faltered. "Oh. Darn."

Hermione sighed, yanked the bag of beans from his hand, searched through it, withdrew a pink one, and inserted it into her mouth. "It was strawberry after all," she mused.

Malfoy smirked. "I guess you really do have to just trust your instincts where I'm concerned, eh?"

Hermione nodded. "There's the old number fifty-two," she remarked, pointing down the street to the oncoming bus. With a sigh, it stopped before them.

"Ladies first," Malfoy declared, giving her a mock bow.

Hermione frowned at him, but entered the bus and made a beeline toward a seat where a nice looking old man was snoozing. She sat down, and Malfoy, his face furled into a frown, sat down in the seat directly behind her, beside a woman who was fastidiously reading a book about apricots. Just as the bus began rumbling down the street, Hermione gave a small shout as Malfoy poked her shoulder blade. She sheepishly turned to him. "May I help you?"

Malfoy grinned winningly. "You know, there was a fully empty seat right over there." He pointed.

"I know," she answered aloofly.

Malfoy pouted. "Come on, Granger! Don't tell me you're afraid of my cooties, or whatever that nonsense is? I can assure you, I'm in perfect health. Unlike you. You coughed earlier."

Hermione groaned. "And since when have you ever wanted to sit next to me?"

"Yesterday," he answered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Before that."

He pretended to think. "I do remember wanting to sit next to you during certain exams…" he said, trailing off. He winked at her.

Hermione clucked her tongue. "For Heaven's sake! Just leave me alone, will you?"

Malfoy pretended to think for a moment. "No," he said. "I'd rather not."

Hermione groaned. "Of all the bus stops in all of London…"

"Funny how fate works," Malfoy said impishly.

Hermione turned her head toward the front, but Malfoy poked her shoulder again. Her head whipped around, lightning-fast. "Yes?"

"Jelly bean?" He held another pink bean out to her.

"No, thank you," she answered.

"Suit yourself." He popped it into his mouth, and no sooner had his lips closed than he opened them again to spit it out. "Ew!"

"What?" she asked.

"Cotton candy… I hate the stuff."

"You're utterly hopeless," Hermione said, waving him off and turning back to the front. Malfoy kicked the back of her seat. Hermione turned to give him the evil eye, grew tired of it quickly, and moved to the empty seat Malfoy had pointed out previously. He moved over to sit beside her.

"Now who's hopeless?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and waited for the bus to reach her stop. "You know you're bloody annoying?" she asked.

Malfoy laughed. "It's my specialty."

Part 4

The little old lady bustled much more quickly around her flat than Hermione would have thought possible. The woman was eighty-seven years old, arthritic, and appeared quite feeble. "Well," Hermione announced, after watching her great-aunt Hattie shoot a worn-out sponge into the bin just as well as any chaser, "I think I had better get going now."

Her aunt smiled. "That's nice dear. Off you go." There was a funny little smile on her face that Hermione didn't quite know how to interpret. She was even more confused when her aunt giggled slightly under her breath.

"Is there something funny that I'm missing?" Hermione asked, looking curiously at her grizzled little aunt.

For a moment her aunt seemed to consider her options. After a while she said in a strangely innocent way, "That nice gentleman you've been waiting for the bus with... he's rather good looking, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione was flabbergasted and, indeed, stood sputtering for a good three seconds. "Well, um..." She preferred not to answer.

"Of course you do have eyes dear, so I can't imagine you not noticing," Hattie said, just as innocently as a little lamb.

"How do you..." Hermione trailed off, completely puzzled.

"Oh, that's easy. I've been watching you from my window. He is a rather tall gentleman, isn't he?" Something about her aunt's attitude gave Hermione the impression that she was still hiding something from her.

"Yes, he's tall," Hermione acquiesced.

"And that hair," her aunt continued. "I haven't seen hair as perfectly platinum since my dear Harold was still alive... Anyway, off you go!" With much gusto, the little woman started pushing Hermione toward the exit.

"Wait a minute," Hermione objected.

"Yes?" her aunt asked, still looking so perfectly innocent that she was made to look guilty.

"You hadn't seen him before I started coming to visit you in the mornings, had you?"

Hattie didn't answer directly. "He's a very nice-looking man. And he must be a gentleman, offering you his umbrella like that. And I've always believed that a woman of a certain age should be settled down."

Hermione, for the life of her, didn't know what to respond to that, so she simply went out the door, still shell-shocked. If she wasn't mistaken, her aunt was setting her up with Malfoy. What was wrong with the world?

With uncertain steps she walked through the light drizzle all the way to the curb, where, sure enough, Malfoy was waiting with umbrella in hand.

"And how are you this fine summer day?" he asked, stepping aside to give her some room beneath his umbrella.

Hermione didn't answer at first. "Fine," she said at last.

"Ookay," he said, smirking at her. "Now it's your turn to ask me how I am. Surely someone has taught you some manners. You seem to pick up on everything else without much pause."

"How are you?" Hermione asked forcedly.

"I couldn't be better!" he answered. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Now you ask me why."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why?"

"Because I just succeeded in getting you to ask how I am!" he said, grinning.

Hermione just stood there speechless for a moment. "And how's your mental health? Any blackouts? Dizziness? Do you see people who aren't there?"

He laughed. "Oh, Granger. Play nice." He clapped a hand on her shoulder, and Hermione felt an unbidden chill sweep over her. Malfoy removed his hand after what felt to Hermione like a prolonged amount of time. "So, doing anything interesting today?" he asked.

Hermione sighed, glad to have at least a small sense of normality returned to her. "No, nothing interesting. I'm just going to do some chores and go to work."

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with some good, honest labor."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite sure you aren't mentally ill?"

Malfoy snorted rather unbecomingly. "Quite sure. Thank you for asking." He paused. "Any plans for the weekend?"

Hermione's eyebrows screwed together. "No… why?"

"Just curious," he answered. Hermione let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "What? You didn't think I was going to suggest we do something together, did you?" Rather than scowling the way Hermione would have thought, he continued smirking in a rather friendly, if teasing, manner.

"No, no. Of course not," she answered. In a rush to change subjects, Hermione blurted out the first thought that came to her mind. "What's your favorite poem?"

Now he did scowl. "I don't really like poetry." He paused. "You know, we could…"

"My favorite is Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelly. It takes a couple of reads, but it's very…"

"Don't interrupt me, Granger. It's rude," Malfoy said. He was attempting to look upset, but instead he came off looking like he had to sneeze.

Now Hermione paused. "What were you going to say?"

He crossed his arms, one hand still holding the umbrella handle, and lifted his nose into the air. "I don't think I'm going to tell you now."

Hermione pretended to pout. "Then don't interrupt me, will you?"

He rolled his lips beneath his nose. "Fine. What were you saying about this Ozy-whoozits?"

"Ozymandias. It's about a statue among ruins." She waited for him to respond.

"And?" he asked.

"The statue is of Ozymandias. He was an ancient vainglorious ruler who gloated over what he'd built in his life. But everything…"

"Was ruined, you said that," Malfoy answered. "Is there supposed to be a moral in your telling me this?"

Hermione looked guilty. "Erm, no. No, not exactly. I was just…"

"Telling me about your favorite poem?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. I hate moralistic drivel."

Hermione laughed. "I can imagine you would."

"Don't even start with me, Granger," he said. "And don't try sitting where I can't sit next to you, either."

"Ever?" Hermione asked facetiously.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you absolutely certain you were the smartest witch in our year?" One of the muggles in the queue frowned at them.

Hermione smiled. "Quite certain."

Looking off down the road, Malfoy grinned. "Ah, fifty-two."

"And soon enough I'll be rid of you," Hermione singsonged.

"Doubtful," he muttered. Hermione sighed in agreement.

"So," he said, as they boarded the bus and sat down toward the back, "how's the aunt? Still ill?" The mention of her aunt, especially by him, suddenly gave her pulse a jumpstart. "Um, Granger? Yoo-whoo?" He waved a hand in front of her face.

"Good. She's good," she answered, with no undue amount of fidgeting. Malfoy, however, didn't drop the scent.

"What?" He was smirking like the devil he was. "There's something you're dying to tell me, I'm sure. Or the opposite. Either one, really."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no. It's nothing."

"It?" he asked. "There's an 'it?' Even better!" He was positively beaming with unfounded joy.

"NO," she ground out.

"If you don't tell," he began, "I'll tickle you!" Hermione didn't doubt he would.

"I'll move seats," she said, beginning to stand up. He pulled her down again. To her horror, he kept his hand firmly around her wrist. "Fine," she spat. She sighed. "I think my aunt might be setting us up."

"Setting us up?" Obviously he didn't understand. "But she's muggle! What could she possibly do?"

Hermione looked heavenward. "Not that way, you great idiot. I meant… romantically."

It took a moment for him to digest this news. Then he started laughing like a maniac. She could honestly not remember a time in school that he had laughed quite so much as he had over the last four days. People were beginning to stare. His hand was still latched firmly on her wrist. "She…" he gasped, "how?"

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "She probably saw you through her window at the bus stop."

He continued laughing hard, hitting his free hand against his leg in enthusiasm. "That's rich," he said, finally regaining control of his lungs. He finally released her wrist, only to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She blushed brilliant red. "Ah, Granger. My little girlfriend."

It was at that exact moment that the bus came to a rolling stop. Hermione hopped up and out of the bus without so much as a backwards glance.

A.N.: For those who were wondering Fräulein means Miss and auf Wiedersehen means good-bye in German. (So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good-bye!) It took me awhile to finish writing this. These chapters are about twice the length I'm used to. Additional A.N. from waaay into the future: To any German readers who feel concerned by Draco's use of Fräulein, please remember that he would likely not be aware that it is no longer in use. Thank you. :)