Chapter 3

Place Venôme

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything - sigh...

A/N: Errr...not much to say this time...but I really like how it's going, don't you? Can't wait to really get started with the plot, have some really cool idea's coming up, if you do happen to have a few suggestions, please do tell me! Well, byeee! x R&R!

Malfoy side-stepped Hermione just in time to avoid a collision and continued smooth talking his way out of his tardiness. The stewardess, who looked torn between scolding him and flirting with him was trying her best to chastise him for his sluggishness but stopped immediately when he flashed the trademark Malfoy smirk. Blushing deeply, she gave him a flirty smile and waved for him to sit down. As soon as he was seated, Draco leaned over to Hermione, a roguish smile playing on his lips.

"Worried about me Granger?" He drawled in a tone that made it clear he knew exactly what she had been doing. Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly turned away to hide her own blush.

"You wish—I was just going to ask about takeoff," she replied curtly, reaching for her carry on bag which had rolled over and was dangerously close to spilling all of it's contents on the floor below. Rather than being put out at her obvious distaste however, Draco chucked to himself, throwing a sideways glance towards Hermione.

"You're a crappy liar," he said flatly, turning towards the window and staring out at the runway as if that was the end of the conversation. Hermione sighed resignedly to herself, fighting the urge to pummel the boy beside her. If this was an indication as to how the next three weeks would be, Hermione was ready to resign immediately. It was bad enough having to put up with him when he was around—it didn't help any that she felt so responsible for him.

Honestly, Hermione reasoned to herself, it isn't as if I'm his mother. I shouldn't have to keep watch on him at all hours of the day! Even as the thought crossed her mind though, she knew she wouldn't be able to comply with her head's choice to let him flop on his own. The Muggle world was going to be a really big change for him—almost as much as the wizarding world had been for her—and despite their history, Hermione felt it her duty to make sure he managed.

"Granger!"

Hermione shot up at the voice in her ear, pausing for a minute to orient herself before turning to Draco who was smirking next to her.

"What's wrong?" She demanded immediately, glancing around for any signs of trouble. She hadn't really meant to doze off, and knew that if Draco had gotten into any mischief while she was asleep it would be her responsibility to explain things.

"Time to wake up," Draco responded casually, grinning at her exasperated expression. Hermione groaned. Things had been going so well—until of course, she woke up.

"Thanks," Hermione drawled sarcastically, rubbing the last bit of sleep from her eyes. As long as she was awake, Hermione saw no reason to try and go back to sleep. She would no doubt be woken up again shortly anyway, either for the landing or for Malfoy's amusement.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" Draco demanded, turning to Hermione with the inquisition of a five year old whose temper was running thin.

"Figure it out yourself," Hermione snapped, wishing for the comfort of sleep again. She had been caught up in a dream in which she and Ron had been paired up and were going to New York where she most certainly would not have to learn a whole new language.

"Fine," Draco snapped back petulantly, reaching for the bag McGonagall had given them before their departure. Reaching in, Draco produced a piece of paper which he quickly scoured with squinted eyes. "It says our apartment is in Place Vendôme," he said, mangling the last part with his neophyte accent. Hermione thought she recognized the name though and quickly sat up.

"Oh, I know that—it's where the Ritz is," she surmised brightly, realizing she just may have a clue where they were going. Malfoy looked puzzled.

"The what?"

"The Ritz," Hermione repeated.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's one of the best, most expensive hotels in the world," Hermione recalled dreamily, remembering the holiday she had taken with her parents as a child. They had taken up residence at the Ritz and the part Hermione remembered most vividly was the sheer beauty and elegance of the hotel. She had barely wanted to leave at all.

"How do you know about something like that?" Draco demanded with a critical laugh. Hermione groaned tiredly, cursing McGonagall for setting her up with such a useless partner.

"I just know these things," she said after a moment, wishing Draco would go back to ignoring her. At least that left her with some peace. Fortune however was no on her side as Draco opened his mouth to ask another question.

"How far away is it from the—airport?" He asked, staring out the window again. Hermione was surprised he remembered the word for it. Then again, he was rather smart. However annoying or stupid he may have seemed, Hermione knew that he was actually pretty intelligent. Not that she liked to admit it, but they had been running in close competition since the end of fifth year when his essay for potions ran only a hair below hers. Since then, they had been engaged in an ongoing battle for the highest grades and all of the bragging rights that went along with them.

"Well," Hermione began, trying to mentally calculate the distance. "Probably quite a long time considering the city traffic can get quite horrific."

"Are we going to take a taxi?" Malfoy wondered aloud, the word taxi sounding foreign and unsure coming from his mouth. Hermione thought for a second.

"I haven't decided—it may be quicker to take the Metro." She considered thoughtfully.

"The what?"

"Metro."

"I still don't know what that is," Draco snapped with an air of annoyance and for the first time Hermione felt a pang of pity for him. She knew how hard it was to enter into a life where you didn't know anything, and knew how awkward it must be for him to have to admit that he didn't have a clue. Then again, he certainly hadn't been too receiving when she had come into the wizarding world, so Hermione didn't feel too badly.

"It's a train thing," she muttered vaguely. She didn't offer details because other things were pressing into her mind. She was trying to think of how they would get to their apartment and what they would do for food and what about their jobs? Monday was only a day away and obviously they would be expected to start right away, but what about times? And where was she supposed to go? Hermione groaned as Draco launched into another question regarding the status of people on the "Metro."

She hated having all the responsibility.

As soon as they stepped off the airplane, Hermione made a beeline for the luggage hall. She wanted to get fresh air as soon as possible, which wasn't so easy with Malfoy walking following her every step. As much as she was annoyed by his sudden shadow-like tendencies though, she supposed it was weird for him too. Having to be in such a big place with all sorts of people around him, and having only herself for support must have been slightly unnerving. Feeling the slightest bit sorry for him, Hermione continued to walk towards the hall.

"Go to sign number eight," Hermione instructed, pointing towards the large number eight hanging from the ceiling. "There will be a conveyor belt with your trunk on it. Grab it when you see it and come back here."

"What about you? Where are you going?" Malfoy asked somewhat nervously.

"I'm going to get a trolley," Hermione said simply, and, before he could complain anymore she had hurried away towards where several trolleys were parked. It had been a long time since she had been at an airport alone and had some difficulty getting one for a bit until she got the hang of it again. When she had secured one though, she spotted Malfoy eagerly awaiting her return. He didn't even look out of place. He acted as if he knew what he was doing, although, Hermione could see in his eyes, he didn't have the faintest idea. She realized then, that she had a huge advantage over him.

"Put it here," she instructed, patting the trolley. In her eagerness for a trolley she hadn't even noticed that Malfoy had taken the liberty of retrieving her trunk as well and hoisted it onto the cart with ease alongside his own.

"Thanks," Hermione said dully but Malfoy was already perusing through one of the airport shops. "Malfoy we can do that later, there are loads of shops in Paris, but we need to find our home first," Hermione scolded lightly, eager to be away from the chaos of the airport. She looked at Malfoy, who was staring around in awe at everything, but when he saw Hermione looking, he tried to look bored and dissatisfied but Hermione knew he was stunned at how interesting the Muggle world really was. Hermione smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad for him after all.

"Une taxi si-vous-plait,"

Hermione said, doing her best not to mangle the language. The man looked at her strangely, muttering under his breath about tourists. Hermione felt a blush creep to her face and quickly turned away, spotting another cab.

"Hey! Over here!" She yelled triumphantly, pointing towards an approaching taxi. Malfoy gave her a sideways look, his eyebrows cocked questioningly. "What?" She demanded, hauling her stuff over to the taxi that had slowed to the curb.

"Nothing," Malfoy murmured, looking away. Honestly though, he was amazed at how easily she had reverted back to the Muggle way of things with such confidence and ease. And for the first time, he was glad that he was stuck with Hermione.

At least she knew what she was doing.

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