Disclaimer: We obviously do not own the Harry Potter World, as much as we wish we did. That genius comes from the one and only J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 3: The Affects of Ice Cream

The next evening, Granger and I were pouring over books in her flat. She was still furious at me, so we were perched in opposite corners of the room.

Granger had already completed the pile of books she gave me to read. After I read the last chapter of the book she gave me almost 5 days ago, I picked up another book from the stop of the stack.

A few pages into Muggles: A History of Wizard and Muggle Relations, Vol. 1 the black lettering was smeared in large splotches littered across the page. They obscured the print so much that I couldn't read the page. I closed my eyes and saw a disheveled girl with messy brown hair sobbing over an old, ratted book.

The image pained me enough that when I opened my eyes, they started to water lightly. When had she been crying and why?

The when part was easy enough to figure out. Seventh year, Flitwick taught us how to date certain stains and spills. With a nonverbal incantation and a slight flick of my wand, I learned that they were nearly 3 weeks old. It couldn't have been because of me, at least. We reunited just over a week ago.

I put the book aside and grabbed another from the stack because I couldn't stop thinking about Hermione curled up with it, crying her eyes out.

The next book was tear-stained as well, and the next, and the next. I tried to be discrete about all of the book switching, so luckily Hermione didn't notice my discovery of her pain.

The stains on the pages varied in size and quantity. The oldest dating back to over a year ago.

"Merlin's beard," she shouted, startling me out of my seat. "Don't you find this assignment to be a little too easy?"

"I don't know, muggles are—"

"What?" she cut me off. "Inferior? They're still human beings just as you and I are. Well, just as I am, anyway."

"No, Granger. Honestly, they intimidate me more than anything." I replied.

"Intimidate you? How? Aren't you a member of the great-and-powerful-pureblood Malfoy family? How could someone as powerless as a muggle scare you?" She asked mockingly.

"Bloody hell, Granger. It's not about power. Not anymore. It's just… they're so different from me. I don't understand them." I glanced down at the floor to avoid her gaze. I was not the same person I had been seven years ago, but she seemed resolved to keep me that cruel, stone-hearted boy.

She was speechless for a second, and then she collected herself. "Well, then you really need this project, don't you?" She asked rhetorically.

"Yes, we've done so much research but how do we start the practical part?" I asked walking over to her.

"With you taking a seat," her eyes were shining. She was joking around with me, that's a start…

"Why, of course, Miss Granger," I said as I dramatically bowed.

After I sat down beside her, she began listing off all of her ideas. As much as I loved how wicked smart she was, I couldn't pay attention. We were sitting close enough that though we weren't touching, I could feel her body heat radiating off of her skin. I wanted to lean in closer to her. I wanted to brush her strawberry-scented hair behind her ear, I wanted to…

"Malfoy!" She snapped. I stood up immediately. "Are you even listening?"

"Uh, no. Not really." I muttered, embarrassed. My hand was ruffling the back of my head.

"Please try to listen. We only have a week to successfully cook a muggle dinner AND write a ten page essay analyzing the event."

"Can't we just invite your parents over for dinner and call it a day?" I asked.

"That would be cheating. Plus, my parents already know about the Wizarding World, and one of the requirements is keeping the whole 'I can do magic' topic a secret."

"I still can't believe that we actually have to cook a three course meal without magic." I grumbled.

"Yes, because putting a casserole in the oven using your hands is SO hard." She rolled her eyes at me.

"You're lucky," I looked her in the eyes. "You've lived on the outside. You know what it's like to be one of them." I looked down.

"Malfoy, I'm astonished," she said in mock humor, "you say that like it's a good thing!"

"Maybe it is," I replied, walking over to the window.

Outside, the people were the size of ants, going about their day. All of them, well most of them, never had to deal with the pressures to become evil just because they were "purebloods." Goodness, it made me seem like I was some sort of dog with a fancy pedigree. The ironic thing was pureblooded canines were less healthy than the others. Pureblood wizards typically were less healthy mentally speaking. Yet, why did we esteem them- us- more? It sickened me.

"What has gotten into him?" she asked herself, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I turned away from the window and glanced at her.

"We might as well start now!" I said, grabbing my raincoat and umbrella. "How do muggles make friends?"

"Muggles seem to have this magical ability referred to as talking." She replied, rolling her eyes. "A muggle in its natural habitat exhibits this odd behavior frequently. A common place that muggles spend time is called a 'mall.' Let's go there."

"What is a 'mall?'?" I questioned.

"It's a building that contains several different stores of all kinds and sometimes a cinema, but that's a whole other explanation." She replied in her typical know-it-all voice.

When we left her flat, we waited under a strange glass overhang with a few benches. A couple minutes passed by, and more muggles started to gather. Confused about what was going on, I turned to Hermione.

"What are we doing?" I asked her.

"Waiting."

"For what?!" I asked exasperated.

My question was answered by a large muggle bus that pulled up. We piled on with the rest of the lot that was waiting.

Disgruntled about my surroundings, I hastily took the last empty seat. Hermione was still left standing. I looked around, and then speedily stood up and awkwardly ushered her into the seat I had just vacated.

"Malfoy, you need to—"before she could finish her sentence the inertia of the moving bus sent me flying backwards.

"Stupid muggle death traps," I muttered under my breath, sitting up.

Hermione was laughing her head off. "You need to hold on to the rail." She tried to say between fits of laughter.

"Thank you, Professor Trelawney…" I joked, grabbing hold of the rail.

The bus drove and let off a plethora of people before finally stopping in front of a large building.

"This is us." Hermione said.

Inside, the mall was overly crowded. People were running this way and that, each with various colored plastic bags in their hands. Within five minutes of being there I was probably bumped into at least thirty billion times. The first time it happened I was knocked to the ground. Furious, I yelled at the retreating figure, "My Father Will Hear About This!" After yelling that I realized I don't even talk to me father anymore. I frowned and stood up.

Hermione led me towards a store containing mostly clothes. It was so crowded in the common area that I got lost behind in the sea of people a few times. Hermione had to keep back tracking to find me. Once we finally made it to the store, together, we looked around at the clothes. Hermione bought a pink blouse from the clearance rack.

Then she suggested that we go get ice cream. As we were reentering the busy part of the mall, Hermione slipped her hand into mine and whispered into my ear, "I don't want to lose you again."

I blushed. And my heart sped up a little. Hermione's fingers were intertwined with mine. For some reason everything felt right. We were in a strange place, surrounded by muggles, but walking hand in hand with Hermione was somehow perfect.

There was a place in the mall called a "food court;" it had so many small booths to buy food at. Most of it looked very strange.

Hermione walked straight up to the cash register of the ice cream booth, still holding my hand. It occurred to me we must've looked like we were together, which certainly wasn't the case! While she placed her order I let go of her hand. I quickly added on my order as well so that they would bill us together. As I pulled out my bill to pay for our ice cream she looked at me very skeptically.

"I can pay for my own ice cream, Malfoy!" She fought, as I handed over the notes.

"I know. And I can pay for it too. Relax, Granger, it's not the end of the world, nor is it some romantic gesture. It's a friendly, civil thing."

"Well we aren't exactly civil, are we, Malfoy?" She snapped.

I laughed to myself, remembering when she grabbed my hand several minutes before. Right, not civil at all.

We were handed our ice cream, and I spun around to exit the line. I winced as my ice cream somehow wound up all over the blouse of a short, red-haired muggle girl.

"What the bloody hell did you just do, git?!" Her large, muscular companion asked.

My face flared and I was ready to snap back at him when Hermione pressed her hand against my back, reminding me to be kind. I wanted to apologize, but this bloody git was making me angry.

"Maybe you should just watch where the hell you're going!" I snapped.

"Watch where we're going? You're the one who spun around like a maniac and ran into my wife!"

"Well, the ice cream does suit your wife, her being muggle trash and all," I sneered, wincing as I saw Hermione giving me the evil eye.

"TRASH?! You're the one who's trash, low life!" He yelled before punching me in the gut. I had never been in a muggle fist fight before, but testosterone driven instinct crept in. After he punched me, I hit his nose, hard, and blood gushed from the point where his nose cracked.

The blood seemed to infuriate him even more; he looked ready to kill. Before I knew it, he was kneeling on top of me, his knees piercing my sides. His fists pummeled my face, and I was barely aware of the crowd circling around us, egging us on.

Behind the guy I could see Hermione and his wife next to each other each with fear in their eyes. Hermione's fear was what got me. I relaxed and did not attempt to fight back, and the bloke's rage slowly stopped to ebb. He was not, however off of me by the time the security guards came, and all four of us (well, the girls followed) were kicked out of the mall.

Once I was "safe" again, Hermione immediately began to scold me for getting into a fight. But at least I wasn't the only one suffering a girl's annoying lecture. The other bloke was cowering under his petite wife's disapproving reprimands.

At one point Hermione and the redhead yelled the same thing at the same time, and looked at each other. They smiled and I shuddered as I watched the two girls forming a bond. For one, I hate redheads, and that bloke of hers was just plain intimidating, not to mention the fact that he just sent me to hell and back.

"Hey, after the boys calm down," the redhead began, "do you want to go out for lunch?"

Hermione glanced at me, half excited, half surprised.

"How about that, Malfoy?" Hermione asked mockingly. "Would you be willing to suck up your pride and make up with him?"

"I will if he does." I pouted like a child.

Then the redhead smiled. "I'm Julianne Blenn, and this is my husband, Derek."

"I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Draco Malfoy."

Julianne looked from Hermione to me and arched one of her eyebrows.

"We aren't dating it that's what you're thinking!" I blurted out without thinking.

"All I'm saying is that I saw you two holding hands and Draco paying…" Julianne said smartly as I began to turn red.

"No, Malfoy would never date me," Hermione joked. "He's interested in nothing but blonde Barbie dolls."

"For the last time, Granger, I am not interested in plastic children's toys!" I snapped, pleased with the muggle knowledge I had recently acquired.

I was surprised when the three of them just looked at each other and started laughing. What was so funny? A Barbie WAS a plastic children's toy, right?

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About an hour later, I found myself in a crowded booth with Hermione's newfound friends. I couldn't say I liked them much, but Julianne wasn't all that bad.

It was Derek I had a problem with. As I politely took small bites of my chicken salad, he glared at me. He looked ready to kill, again. So, I hadn't exactly apologized for bad-mouthing his wife yet or anything, but SHE was fine with me. Besides, he hadn't apologized for beating me into a pulp yet either. It took me a while to clean up without magic and I had to buy a new shirt as well.

"So," Julianne began, "how long have you guys known each other?"

"We met when we were eleven." I said my first time speaking since we arrived.

"Eleven?" Julianne asked, "Wow…"

"We met on a train that took us to our boarding school. The first words he ever spoke to me were rude and degrading." Hermione explained.

"I can believe that…" Derek murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

"I saw you before then," I told Hermione. "Talking to your parents. You seemed like a happy family. Different from mine, but happy."

Hermione looked puzzled, "You did?"

I nodded in reply.

"How about you?" Hermione asked, turning to Julianne. "How did you two meet?"

"Three years ago, I was mountain climbing with a group of me friends," Julianne explained, "and we ran into Derek and his friends while on the trail. We all were flirting and got to know each other when we had the bright idea to race each other to the top of the mountain. The boys beat us, of course. Just as I reached the top however, I slipped and nearly feel down the ravine. Derek saved my life, and I've loved him ever since." She sighed. "I'm such a clumsy fool."

"But you're my clumsy fool." He whispered, leaning in. I nearly gagged when he kissed her passionately on the mouth.

The lunch continued relatively the same. Hermione and Julianne did most of the talking. Derek just stared at his wife the whole time, obviously not paying too much attention to the words coming out of the lips he was staring so greedily at. It was completely, horrifically, nauseating.

I was beyond happy when we finally finished eating and were about to leave. Hermione and Julianne swapped "cell phone numbers." Apparently those are little devices you can use to talk to someone even if they aren't in the same place as you. They seemed rather useful, but I think I'd prefer to just stick to owls and floo. Much simpler.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it, Malfoy?" Hermione asked me a little too cheerily.

"No."

She ignored me. "I think they'd be perfect to serve dinner to and write our project essay about."

"What makes you think I ever want to see that bloke's face again?!" I retorted.

"To pass Muggle Relations."

"Touché," I replied.

Hermione glanced at her watch, "I have to be somewhere soon. We can meet up tomorrow to start planning the next step."

"Yeah, sure," I said.

And then with a soft "pop," she was gone.

Thanks for reading! So happy to finally get this chapter up! as of this point everything that M and I have written is here. so now begins the part where the timeline of chapters appearing here depends on how often we get the time to write. so I'm apologizing now if you dislike the time lapses. Please stick with the story and review! Shout out to Lorelei Lovegood for being the first, and currently only, person to have written a review for our story.

-K&M