Author: Brandi Vincent
Disclaimer: Yes, I made up the idea for Harry Potter when I was five, you see, and I wanted Barbie to be in it but it just didn't work out. Since, after all, J.K. Rowling, my old buddy, ditched me to go on a plane back to Britain and began writing my ideas on cocktail napkins! So NOW it belongs to her! J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Summary: Muhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah. Damn, I'm tired...anyway, um, they FINALLY GET TO LONDON! I say yay, nay. Don't go there, girl friend. Die Scott! I've been watching I little too much Austin Powers...and listening to a little too much Green Day...whoa, dude, just read. I can't believe I missed the new South Park AND That 70's Show. Damn it...
+Chapter Six: London at Last+
Draco and Hermione slowly turned around to confront the armed man and to save their lives. The rifle moved from Draco's back to his chest as they turned around, and Jack just stared lazy eyed like usual.
"What are ya doin' on my property?" A tan man with blonde curls poking out of a beige, leather cowboy hat asked, wearing tight, white pants, black cowboy boots, and a ruffled beige shirt. Hermione found him handsome, Draco would love to differ.
"We were sent by what's-his-name," Draco told him, hands up and raised to his head carelessly.
"By John, at the other ranch. He lent us this horse to ride over here through that hell portal," Hermione exhaled, jabbing a thumb at the wretched forest. He followed the direction and looked back at them, pulling the rifle down at his side once more. "Then you must be Jake."
"Indeed, John sent you, then?" Jake asked reluctantly, then gave a full, rich laugh. "Was afraid you two were some yellow belly teenagers up to no good. Of course, you two are Draco and Hermione, right?"
"Indeedy, mac and cheesy," Draco said sarcastically, pushing past the obvious 'American'.
"Sorry for the misunderstanding. Got word six people were comin' to pick up some car here since it can't go through The Creepers at night, unless you want it totaled. Where's the other four?" Jake asked with sparkling blue eyes.
"Back in there, is my guess. I think something was about to-"
Four piercing screams lifted into the cold breeze, cutting Hermione off short. The three whirled around to stare up at The Creepers, as two horses came galloping out, Professor Flitwick looking green and about to faint. Hermione sighed and felt like she was about to faint as well.
They galloped all of the way down the steep hill to the ranch, still screaming like lunatics. Draco stared at them in a funny way until they pulled up next to the three of them.
Then they stopped screaming.
Something behind them came hurtling out of the forest as well, a long slimy tongue flapping at the side of it's mouth. It was a huge, black scrubby wolf howling that same howl Draco and Hermione had heard. Jake bent down and opened his arms for the wolf to leap into. It did and began a frenzy of licking his golden face.
Terry stared at it in astonishment, rolled his eyes to the night, and fell off of the beautiful horse Q-bee with a faint. Susan stared down at him, then back at the wolf as Buck just gave a sigh of relief and hoisted himself off of the horse.
"Aye, come on boy, thy must," Buck advised Terry, patting his pale cheek with the back of his rough hand. "Eh, you must be Jake," he added, turning to the smiling cowboy.
"Sure am, and this here's Merlin. Probably wanted to say hi, since he's always hanging about in The Creepers. He knows he can handle 'imself," Jake said, patting Merlin's scruffy head.
"Goodness he gave us a fright!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, scrambling off of the horse in a hurry. "I say, we were afraid he might tackle us!"
"Might've," Jake shrugged as Merlin waddled by Draco and sniffed him, howling.
"What's his problem?" Draco snapped, backing away from the wolf.
"He recognizes ya," Jake replied as Merlin began waddling over by Hermione and sniffing her as well. "He was probably tryin' to pick up your scent back in there."
"Well that explains that," Hermione mumbled as Merlin scampered over to Terry and began licking his face with a smelly tongue. Terry shrieked and threw himself off of the ground, pulling out a moist towel at scrubbing his face continuously. Susan hoisted herself off of the horse and patted Merlin's scratchy head.
"Wait," Draco snapped, turning to the other four, "Where's my cat?" They all looked around at each other for a moment, then back at Draco. "WHERE'S MY CAT?" He repeated, balling his fists so tightly until they trembled.
"Um," Susan scratched her head, "We don't know, last we saw her was in the forest."
"You lost Milady?!" He hissed, venom fizzing in his eyes. "Where is she?!"
"Calm down, Mr. Malfoy, she'll show up by the morning," Professor Flitwick advised with a small chuckle.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Draco shouted, stalking over to Professor Flitwick. Hermione grabbed his collar before he could go any farther towards him. He looked ready to kill.
"I'm afraid you don't have 'til then. The car's already here," Jake said, pointing over to a long, black limousine down the dirt road.
"MY CAT!" Draco shrieked, "I WANT MY CAT! You ALL will pay if you don't find her!" Buck, Professor Flitwick, Susan, and Terry looked around at each other again, feeling guilty. After a minute, Draco calmed down a little, but still refusing to be nice. "I am NOT leaving this land of shit until she shows up."
"Then we'll just have to leave with out you, Draco," Terry informed, walking towards the black limousine.
"Fine, go ahead," Draco hissed as Susan stared at the two and followed Terry.
"We're sorry, Mr. Malfoy, we have a dead line to make," Professor Flitwick frowned, following the others. Buck sighed and looked back up at him regretfully.
"I'll stay with ya, lad, if you're that determined," Buck offered. Draco just glared down at the dirt.
"No, go ahead with the others, this is my cat. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you people with her," Draco mumbled, folding his arms across his chest. Buck shrugged and walked after the others, letting him do what he wanted to. He picked up most of the luggage as the others did.
But Hermione wouldn't give in that easily. "I like Milady too, so I'm not going anywhere until I see she's safe," she told Draco, staring up at him as he refused to look up.
"I don't need your pity, Granger," he spat, glancing up at her quickly, then back down to the dirt.
"I'm not giving you any of my pity. I'm already giving enough to Milady," she confessed as Jake stared at the two in confusion.
"Here," Jake offered, "I'll help. Have any scent or fur of her whatsoever?" Draco looked down at his sleeve and pricked a piece of fur off of it, then handed it to him. Jake took it carefully and pointed it out in front of Merlin's nose. "Hopefully that'll do. Follow the scent, Merlin!"
The black wolf sniffed it for a minute or two, then howled up into the air, scampering off back into The Creepers. Jake turned back to the two shivering teenagers, "He'll take a while. You two can sleep on my couch in the living room, I don't really have a guest room. The house is nice, but it's still sort of small."
"Thanks," Hermione smiled, then pulled at Draco's stiff arm. Draco pulled away, then looked back up at her.
"Are they really going to leave?" He asked smugly, staring back at the other four who were loading into the limousine silently.
"Probably," Hermione sighed, turning to Jake, "I just want to wait out here tonight."
"Same here," Draco muttered, stalking towards the porch of the house. It was a small, cozy white house a few yards away from the horse stables. On the large porch was a red bench and a swinging chair hung from the over lay. He walked over to it slowly, taking about a minute to do so, and sat down at the swinging chair, furrowing his brows. Hermione had never seen a Malfoy act like that, like half of his heart had been ripped out. Milady seemed to be his only faithful companion, and it didn't seem like he wanted to lose that anytime soon.
She walked over to the porch as well and sat down next to him, swinging in the breeze. They scarcely talked and when they did it was about Professor Flitwick and the rest of them pulling away. Could they do that? Just leave them there? Maybe they would send another limousine in the morning or some old pick up truck, but whatever it was they didn't care. A soldier never leaves a man behind. Or, in this case: a cat.
~~~~~~
The moon light beamed down on them as the swinging chair creaked forward and back again, Draco and Hermione leaning against each other in the cold of the night. It had already been around three a.m. when Draco finally fell asleep from worrying about his faithful cat. He wouldn't give up on her.
He looked up at his surroundings from writing another entry into his summer log and relaxed as the wind combed the wild-grass of the field, speckled with evergreen trees every so yard. Milady hopped up from eating a grasshopper, the green insect still twitching in her mouth. She carried it over to Draco as a present and chopped off half of it for herself. He stared down at the long grass and found it lying there, as Milady pounced off into the meadow. Weird cat.
He dropped his ink pen down on his brown, leather journal and lay back, breathing in the summer air. Once you've been bossed around by your father all day and whipped slaves into shape all afternoon, it takes a lot of energy out of you. The only close thing he ever had in his life was his mother and Milady. He loved his father, but lately the man has become obsessed with his work.
The sky was of a baby blue as fluffy white clouds began to form in the rich sky. The air smelt of misty springs. Sure, the smell of blood was ever so intoxicating, but lately Draco liked being alone to think.
As he thought, the forming clouds in the sky darkened, as well as the baby blue sky began shading into a metalic black. Draco sat back up to see what was causing this, and there he saw, walking miles away, a woman draped in black rags, walking over to him slowly. Ever other second she would pop up another yard forward, then another, until it began freaking Draco out. It was like a fuzzy film projector with its film scratched at ever other photo.
At a mile away, she suddenly popped up right in front of Draco, making him squirm back with an edgy gasp. Around her face was a shadowed cloak, making it almost impossible to tell whether she was friendly or not. He was going to go with the second one, you know, with the lightning bolts ripping across the black sky and all.
"You, Draco Malfoy, are Death Eater. Hates and takes and breaks," the woman said with a middle aged diligent voice. Who was this woman?
"Who are you?" Draco demanded, appointing to show bravery even though his feet felt like that half of a cricket at his journal.
"I am merely but a messenger. I warn you, Draco, that if you do not change your ways, it will lead to the fate of mankind streaking across your chest and tearing you and it apart. You hold fate, and for that, you will die at an early age. Most likely at the stage where you fall in love, which I'd laugh to see that day. You either stop this nonsense and turn against your father, or your closest friend dies," she pointed a pale finger over at Milady, who was cocking her head and pouncing over to them, then getting distracted by a fluttering butterfly.
Draco followed her meant direction and dropped his jaw for a moment, then flashed back into his normal state. "I'm not afraid of you," he muttered, glaring at her maliciously. His hair was ruffled a bit and he supported himself with his hand spread out, touching the ground behind him.
Only her dry, faint pink lips could be seen under the cloak. They curled up into a small grin and she cackled lightly, enough to make your teeth itch. "Oh, dear Mr. Malfoy, you will be. Your cat is supposed not only to be your good friend, but you seem to be inferior without her, ever since the day you found her. Silly boy, you let her grow attached! But I know a secret about you, a deep, dark secret that you would not believe if I told you it. By the end of this year, you will have experienced jealousy, hatred, a groaning pit in your stomach that wouldn't be cured by medicine. Funny, really, but I'll leave you to your thoughts. Do you want to be happy, or do you want to die at an early age; learn how some loves and friendships, like your cat here, never last?" She disappeared then with a last heart wrenching cackle, and did indeed leave Draco to his thoughts.
The sky cleared up but the clouds did not change back to their fluffy white as usual. It began to thunder a soft, booming background effect and drizzle on the plains. What was that all about? Draco thought with headache. He looked over to Milady who was cocking her wet head and running over to him, hiding from the thunder under his strong arm.
Stop worrying, she's just a crazy old hag, he thought with nervous chuckle, patting Milady's head.
Draco woke up, sweating a little. He always did that; have a nerve wrecking dream and then wake up shaking or sweating. He hated it; he always thought of himself to spread terror, not his dreams. He looked down and saw Hermione resting her innocent cheek on his shoulder. They were both shivering, since it was still raining. Oh yea, he had forgotten. His favorite type of weather: rain. It was so peaceful.
Then again Hermione was peaceful, except she could bruise an arm. He didn't like to show it, but sometimes when she would hit him, it sort of hurt. All the same, he looked up at the dirt road, which did not have a limousine parked anywhere on it. Traitors, how could they leave without them?
"Bastards," he mumbled, holding onto himself tightly. Shit, the weather did have somewhat of an effect on him, except the fact that he was freezing his numb ass off. He looked down and groaned, looking back up to the porch light. Was it so cold he had to get hard?
Then again that made Draco horny. He wanted to fuck someone just for the hell of it, but the only person that was around was sweet and guilty to admit sexy Hermione.
Bleeding fires of hell, man, can't you keep your mind on OTHER things? He thought, mentally slapping himself. Why had everyone been warning him lately? But he remembered that day so clearly he could almost see the baby blue skies again.
He wanted to kick that woman's ass.
But maybe she was right, or was it all coincidental? Milady was gone and it was his entire fault. But hadn't he done what she had asked? Turn against his narrow-minded father and taken the beating of a lifetime?
He hated EVERYTHING!
Draco leaned Hermione on the other side of the wet swinging chair to stand up and kick something. Sounded like a good idea at the time. He hated everything about everything! He shot up from the chair and kicked the porch post, then went on down the porch and kicked around some dirt and then a tree, aiming for something that would make some sort of reaction.
"SCREW THE WORLD! Bloody, fucking life! Why won't it just END?!" He yelled up into the damp air, waiting for no similar reaction. "Look at me now, I'm throwing a hissy fit," he laughed like he belonged in the insane ward and knelt down to the dirt, staring down at it blankly.
"Draco?" Hermione groaned, tired eyes peeling open as she yawned on the swinging chair, shivering and trembling. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Draco replied after a moment or so, standing back up, "Just wondering why me, that's all. I need liquor, do you have liquor? Wait, of course you don't. I need a drink. So then I can smash the cheap bottle and stab myself in the chest. That's sounds fun, quite frankly, don't you think?"
"Are you feeling okay?" Hermione asked again, cocking one eyebrow.
"Of course I'm not okay! My life is a bloody hell and it keeps spinning around in this crap hole of a tornado and every so often a cow pie smacks me in the face. Funny story, actually, I'll tell you some time," Draco said in this nervous rush, walking up the porch steps a little sloppily. "You know what, I want to go now. Let's go now, I can wire into that crackpot's pick-up truck."
"Draco, no!" Hermione insisted, standing up off of the swinging chair. "Have you gone completely insane? And what about Milady?"
"I've decided that obsessing over something is unhealthy. Like wiring into your neighbor's car. I mean at first I got electrocuted and when I got in I smashed into my old tree house, but I've gotten the hang of it. The wizards are going to London!" Draco sloshed, grabbing her numb arm and pulling her towards Jake's midnight blue pick-up truck.
Hermione cringed at the thought of stealing a truck, but when Draco gets an idea you cannot avoid it, no matter how hard you punch him it'll still be in there. It printed into his mind and was unable to erase. She hesitated as she reached for the car door, then turned back to Draco who was already under the wheel. Smart, Jake, leaving your doors unlocked, very smart.
"Can't we just ask him to take us there?" She insisted, watching as Draco popped open the wiring system.
"Can't. Not much time. Have to make up for everything," Draco mumbled to her. Grrreat. Now he was getting delirious on her. She swung open the car door and hopped inside, on the look out for Jake in case he came out to see what was happening outside in the early morning.
"Ever wonder how we're going to get there or find our way?" She asked, staring down at him as he sat up from under the wheel, looking at her with his slicked back hair flipping up a little.
"Tons, but doesn't mean I have an answer," he replied, shrugging as he pressed down on the peddle a little to hear its purr. He turned to her and gave a 'here we go' smile and wink, as he put it in drive and slammed down on the peddle. They slammed back against the black plethora seat as Draco's smile grew wider, almost knocking over a garbage can and Jake's mailbox.
"I should've thought of this earlier!" Draco shouted over the adrenaline rush, speeding up the steep hill. Hermione looked over her shoulder and out of the back tinted window to check if Jake had run about by now. To her surprise, he hadn't. Dimwitted Americans...
Then again, dimwitted Draco. "You could get a ticket! We're only sixteen!" She yelled at him as he sped down the dirt road, which soon turned to concrete as they turned a sharp corner.
"Seventeen," he corrected her, getting back on track to a sane route of driving.
"Whatever," she said, "You still don't have a driver's license."
"I could improvise if pulled over," he shrugged, pulling out a leather wallet with a pot leaf in the middle of it. She looked up at him oddly. "Um, friend gave this to me," he covered up; she couldn't define whether he was lying or telling the full truth. "Anyway, I could flash my wallet at them, like an FBI agent. See, boo-yah!" Draco flipped it open and snapped it shut again, stuffing it back into his jean pocket.
"They're going to want to look at it, Draco, not see you flash a Nutter-butter coupon in their face," Hermione rolled her eyes, dropping back in her seat uncomfortably. The truck was everything but uncomfortable, but the way things were looking felt so.
"It's not for a Nutter-butter, it's for a box of twelve of Twinkies," Draco frowned, staring down at his wallet as he swerved a little. Didn't matter anyway; the road was deserted with only a tumbleweed rolling across it every so often.
"Tell me, Gandalf the White, how do you plan on finding our way to London?" She asked again, crossing her arms over her T-shirt. Which reminded her, hopefully the others grabbed their bags, because they sure didn't.
"I'll take a swig or two and guess," Draco replied, cocking his head over to her. She gave him the evil eye, which burned through him like acid. "I'm kidding, I know the route to the damn place. Maybe not from this point and area, but I know what I'm doing. Or so I'd like to think..."
"Uh-huh. So, Einstein, what exact location are we going to in London? They never told us what apartment or address you big lout!" Hermione exclaimed, feeling lost.
"Aha, but that's where you're wrong," he kept one firm hand on the wheel as he reached into his jeans pocket once more, only to pull out a crumpled up piece of parchment, and threw it at Hermione's frizzy hair. "Jotted down the address when Professor Shitdick and that other uneducated idiot were talking as I came back with my back pack. I wrote it down right away, before, eh-hem, you exposed a little too much skin for your nature," he replied, coughing into his balled up hand.
"Fuck off," Hermione snapped, unfolding the piece of parchment and reading the address. "123 Fake Street?" She asked cocking an eyebrow at him oddly.
"Oh yea...," He thought aloud, rubbing his scratchy chin. He sort of had a morning shadow, considering he hasn't shaved in three days. "I think I was bored when I wrote that down. Check the back."
Hermione did, and examined the address carefully, "C991, The West Gables apartment?"
"Yep, which means small apartment, which means I have to share a room with Mr. Clean," Draco muttered, focusing on the road a little more clearly now. Hermione sighed and lay back in her seat once more, nodding off to sleep time from time. She tried keeping her mind awake, just in case Draco tried anything funny, but couldn't. Then she had a sudden, disturbing thought.
Professor Snape and Draco fucking in the ass.
At first it completely revolted her until she twisted her face into a sour cringe, then she thought of them holding hands in an intimate fashion. This time it made her laugh out loud. She kept sniggering until Draco looked over to her and gave her a weird look.
"What's so funny?" He asked in a contrary way.
"You don't want to know," Hermione stifled another laugh, until it snorted out of her nose.
"I do want to know," he snapped sheepishly, looking at Hermione stubbornly in a pathetic manner.
"You're just going to get mad," she said matter-of-factly, looking out of the tinted window and amid the vast plains.
"I won't, I promise, just tell me!" Draco demanded, looking over to Hermione.
"I was picturing you and Snape holding hands and having a candle lit dinner," she said in a huge rush, ending with a tickling laughter, which could not be contained. He stared at her blankly, then back on the road. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again.
"That was THE most vile thought I have ever endured," he spat, looking over at Hermione, who was smiling.
"I have a better thought, now," she replied, smirking. He stared at her again blankly, no expression valid.
"I take it you're horny?" He asked curiously, smirking.
She kicked his shin hastily, causing him to slap a hand on it in pain and caress it roughly. "Damn, Granger, it was just a question." After another five minutes of silence, he spoke up once more. "What were you thinking about?"
"None of your business!" She snapped, crossing her arms towards the window and staring up at the emotionless black sky.
"Was it of...me?" Draco asked intentionally, looking over at her with pitiful, baby eyes. She glared right through him and kicked his knee again. He cursed silently and rubbed it painfully, then looked back up at her. "You still didn't answer my question."
Hermione knew the answer: it was he. His perfect body, his perfect everything. His arrogant and smug expression and child's play of confusing her in an uncomfortable situation. But hell was she to tell him that anytime soon.
"Was I holding you?" He asked softly, loving the game of messing with her mind. He creased two fingers up her arm, and she pulled away instantly. As if his fingertips were piercing, hot blades burning into her skin. "Were we...having fun?" He continued asking away in his most sexy tone, rolling his hands up to her chin. She kept her chin still, frozen in time, as he caressed her cheek with his thumb teasingly.
Hermione forgot to speak up as he continued screwing around with her head. Some where inside of her didn't want him to stop. Some where inside Draco questioned if he were really messing around with her, or was actually is touching her with his own bare hand. He was, and it almost frightened him. He pulled his hand away instantly at the thought and realized he was still driving.
"So, how's that weather?" He asked, pointing out of the window as Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
~~~~~~
"My bologna has a first name, it's D-R-A-C-O! My bologna has a second name, it's M-A-L-F-O-Y!" Draco sang cheerfully as they drove into the streets of London. They sidewalks weren't as full as they would be, since it was four a.m., but Draco tried pretending the Red Light District was standing off at a dark corner. He took a picture with them once when he was with a friend; he probably had it in his suitcase at that very moment.
"Wait, where did I leave off last with 99 Bottles of Beer on the wall?" Draco thought out loud, skimming across the street signs. He had an instinct of where The West Gables apartment building was, but not a very clear one. So he was on the look out for a long, black limousine. That didn't sound right.
"No matter, I'll start off from 99 then," he answered to himself as Hermione scrunched her face up into a bitter scowl, glaring over at him.
"Please, I beg of you, don't," she pleaded, covering her ears with her pale hands.
"Fine, I know a better song," he smirked, "I want to fuck you like an animal," he muttered to himself consciously, "I want to fuck you from the inside..."
"Please don't sing that either," she begged, removing her hands from her ears.
"You know, I would sing that song when I was seven, blissfully unaware of what it meant," he replied, strumming his fingers on the chain-linked wheel. So far so good; they hadn't been pulled over yet. Why would anyone, anyway? Draco seemed to know what he was doing surprisingly.
"How do you know so many muggle groups and food?" She asked suspiciously as he strummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"A muggle moved in next door to me about a year or so ago. At first I thought he was revolting, but then he started introducing me to new stuff. He didn't know I was of pureblood or a wizard at all, I just said I had lived in the Amazon for ten years and had no exact clue of my surroundings. So we ate Twinkies, listened to music, and mauled around London all summer. I have a bunch of snap shots of him and me mauling around. He was a complete insomniac; always ate but NEVER gained a pound. So over the summers, I've disgusted myself with the sudden muggle culture interest. Though quite frankly, it was a blast," Draco replied, glancing over at her hysteric expression.
"I thought I'd NEVER see the day you fancy a muggle, Draco Malfoy. Well, when I was little, I would probably always sing 'The Safety Dance' by Men Without Hats. My parents were either big 70's lovers, 80's freaks, or enjoyed the soothing classical music. I prefer techno, quite frankly," Hermione added, looking about out of the window at the sightings.
Draco smiled to himself at the sudden topic of music. He had never quite agreed with muggles, but music seemed to be the only good thing about them. Wizardry music was mellow, in general, and as much as he enjoyed chamber music, he also enjoyed British 80's music. Where did the times pass? Now all music was punk going pop and dopers writing about how much they love their hash pipe. But hey, he wasn't complaining about Weezer or insulting them in any way. Just everything about everything in general.
Aha! He thought, eyeing the black limousine, so here the traitors are. Thought they wouldn't see me popping around anytime soon did they?
He pulled up into the apartment's underground parking lot and parked the truck without realizing it. The outside appearance of the apartment was gorgeous; plants and rose bushes were planted outside of the tall building while a huge main entrance seemed to be of a high-class ballroom. They walked inside of it to check up on what room they were to be in and clear this whole misunderstanding.
A young man of about twenty-five sat at the counter, smiling up at them professionally. "And what can I do for you, sir?" He asked Draco in a polite manner. Hermione looked about the white and gold main entrance and gaped at the wonders. A chandelier hung form the middle with carved glass dangling from it, with a white plated floor. Everything else was quite self-explanatory: white and gold decorated all about with plants sitting at corners and an optimistic old man waiting at the elevator.
"Yea, I'm Draco Malfoy and this is my lady friend Hermione Granger, our friends ditched us back on some deserted ranch and lucky us, we caught up to them. Any idiots of the names Susan Bones, Terry Boot, or...umm...Flitwick check in yet?" Draco asked in a rude manner, smiling back at the raven-haired man after his insults. He looked down at his gold nametag and flicked at it, "Oh yea, and hello there, Frank."
"I'll check on the computer if they checked in," Frank forced a professional smile back at him, then looked back down at his plain computer and began typing up something in a secretary fashion.
"Nice place," Hermione whispered to Draco as he spit down on the squeaky clean floor.
"Sure," he replied reluctantly, looking up at the old man who was staring at him, then back down at the wad of spit of his clean floor.
"They're in rooms C991, they've been expecting you. Here's your keys, Mr. Malfoy, James will see you up to your room," Frank pointed over to the old man as Draco followed his directions.
"Thanks, Dr. Suess," Draco said, snatching the dangling keys out of Frank's hands and led the way to the elevator.
They walked inside the soothing crimson elevator with James and smiled up at him, then back ahead of them. Draco waved at Frank like a little retarded child as the reflecting doors closed and James pressed the numbers for their floor.
"Hi, James," Hermione greeted sheepishly, smiling at the old man politely. James had a rather big nose with loose, tan skin and bags under his eyes. He had a white and gray mustache, along with a red doorman cap and suit. He seemed quite kind and harmless.
"You don't have to call me that, they gave me that name to seem more dignified. I'm Geoffrey, but don't tell them I told you," he replied as they went up a few floors.
"Can I call you Kool Aid?" Draco asked in an anticipated tone with a sarcastic childish expression. His muggle neighbor would always call someone that if they were wearing a completely red out fit or something that looked tropical. Hence that Geoffrey had a crimson outfit on, Draco couldn't resist asking.
"You're a smart ass," Geoffrey smiled at him with a twinkle in his gray eye, "I don't like you."
"Like wise, my friend," Draco replied, nodding.
They stopped off at the correct floor and hopped off, waving good-bye to Geoffrey as he pointed which room for them to go into.
"We can count, Kool Aid!" Draco shouted, blissfully unaware that other people were still sleeping. Geoffrey gave him the middle finger and smiled as the doors closed on him. Draco gave him a menacingly glare and was about to run back after him, but Hermione warned him with her own glare. "Here we are," he sighed, looking down the rows of doors. "Life ends here was we know it."
"Yep," Hermione added, walking with him to her room. As she paced by his side and he jingled the keys at the lock, the door behind her opened and a buff hand pulled her inside, covering her mouth. She tried yelling to Draco, but her voice was muffled as the door slammed in front of her as she turned around to face the one man she hadn't seen in probably a month.
+TBC+
Chapter Seven of Thoughtless: DAMN I'm tired! Uuhh....right....so they're at this place and this things happens and yea....guess who that guy is?! I DARE you! Please, I wanna know who you think it is and see if you're remotely close! Yea, so wait like a week or so before I update cause I get lazy and tired and cranky and watch a little too much Daria...
BrAnDi's Note: WOW, FINALLY done with that chapter! Whine, now I have to do the next chapter for Damned Eyes. NO ONE reads that, but I don't care! I like it as a fanfiction. Considering on how many people read Demon Beneath My Will, I'm surprised it doesn't get as much credit. Well, anyway, what's up with you? Um, I uploaded this poem thingy called The Atheist Series. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't read it if you're not atheist! Damn, you wouldn't believe how many people who aren't atheist read it anyway and started whining after I CLEARLY warned them to NOT NOT NOT review if they're NOT an atheist or evolutionist!!! I mean, it's cool if you like your religion and all, but I've got my theory. Anyway, I'm tired. Damn, where did I leave off with Damned Eyes?! Oh yea. Damn, I'm tired...sooo tired....wanna sleep...and it's only around 10:50 p.m.! Thank Buddha tomorrow's a Friday. More time...THEY FINALLY GOT TO LONDON!!! I was thinking of them seeing a crowd of wizards, like from Damned Eyes if you read it, lol, but then thought that time zone was around December and around seven p.m. But I will have it in here sometime; just you wait! Brandi will have her vengeance! And review or whatever you people do after you read this story...who read's the author's note, anyway?