Whoo! New chapter! If chapters are a day or so behind, it's because I have a ton going on. Entering my first Dramione writing contest (Yay) and working on publishing an ebook! Well, enjoy the story!
Hermione and Malfoy apparated to the manor, allowing Malfoy to pack clothes to come to Hermione's childhood home. Hermione stood frozen in place, realizing what room she was in but not recognizing it at all. She stood feet away from where she was tortured, watched by the person she's allowing to disrupt her life. Hermione shook her head. She can't think of her client this way, regardless of their history together.
Malfoy appeared a few minutes later carrying a briefcase and wearing what he thought was casual Muggle clothing. He looked more like he was headed to a dinner party, not like he's on his way to his imprisonment.
"You're packing a bit light, what if this lasts for a few months?"
Malfoy looked down at the briefcase in his hand.
"Oh no, this is work. The house elves will be over shortly with my wardrobe." Malfoy walked over to the fireplace, ready to floo to her parents house.
"House elves?!" Malfoy was startled at her high pitched yell. He raised one eyebrow at her protest.
"Is there a problem Granger?" Hermione couldn't believe his audacity.
"Yes there's a problem! I will not have house elves in my house Malfoy! You are going to pack your things yourself and carry them through the floo like a normal, functioning adult!"
Malfoy stood with the look of confusion on his face.
"You want me to do my own packing? What do I look like, a muggle? What's the point of being a wizard if I can't use resources available to me because of my status?"
"The average wizard can function without house elves, you'll be just fine." Standing in the same spot in front of the fireplace, Malfoy looked as if he wanted to argue but decided against it. Living without house elves can't be worse than going back to Azkaban.
Hermione paced the drawing room, waiting for Malfoy to come back downstairs. It couldn't possibly take anyone this long to pack, even someone with as much as she assumed Malfoy had. Slowly going up the stair, Hermione stopped on the second floor, unsure of where to go. There were so many rooms on this floor alone.
"Is Miss needing something. Clary can gets whatever Miss needs."
A house elf appeared behind her, twisting her hands nervously as she looked up the stairs.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy was supposed to be packing but he seems to need a bit of help. He's been taking quite a long time."
"Oh, well Master Malfoy is down this hall." Clary led the way, quickly getting Hermione away from the staircase. She took one glance up the stairs, wondering what was up there the house elf clearly didn't want her to see.
As they approached the door at the end of the hall, Hermione heard Malfoy's voice.
"Damn Granger, who does she bloody think she is? How do muggles do this? Pack things myself.."
"Miss Granger, Master Malfoy." Clary bowed and left the two of them alone. Face flushed, Malfoy was clearly trying to shove an obscene amount of clothes into a suitcase not nearly large enough.
"I will be finished in a minute Granger, you did not need to invite yourself into my bedroom."
Malfoy turned around to continue to force the lid down.
"Inviting myself into your bedroom wasn't on my list of things to do today, but it seemed as if you needed a bit of help."
With a flick of her wand, all of his clothes folded themselves and fit nicely into the suitcase.
"There, almost like magic." Malfoy glared at her, but again decided to hold his tongue. Grabbing his suitcase, which Hermione charmed to make light as a feather, he led her back downstairs to the floo. It was a world of difference, stepping out of Malfoy Manor and into Hermione's home.
"Let me show you around so you can get settled in." The two story, three bedroom home seemed well to do compared to some of the flats in London, but looked like a hut compared to his manor. Hermione isn't embarrassed by it, her childhood helped shape her into the woman she is today.
"So you'll have a bathroom to yourself, right here next to the guest room. Now I'm at the very end of the hall in case you need anything. Now we're going to keep the floo connection between here and the manor in case you'd like to see your family. Obviously they can't come here, you're not allowed any company until we've proved your innocence."
Malfoy nodded, the look of disgust clear on his face.
"I'll let you get yourself settled, I'm going to make some breakfast. I'm sure you're starving." Malfoy nodded again, turning towards the guest room and closing the door behind him. Hermione hoped Harry solved the case soon, otherwise this will be torture.
Although he looks as if he'd rather lock himself in the guest room, Malfoy made his way down to the dining room as Hermione was setting the plates on the table.
"Now, this won't be an everyday thing. I won't be slaving away cooking and waiting on you hand and foot. But you are a guest and this is your first night in a strange house, so here's brunch." Hermione didn't plan on making a large breakfast and hope it didn't look like she tried too hard. She originally planned on just eggs and toast, but realized she had no idea what he liked. So when he sat down, he had a full English before him.
"Thank you." If she wasn't paying attention, his quiet whisper would have gone unnoticed. Hermione gave him the first genuine smile she's ever given him in their lives.
"You're welcome. I hope you like it."
"What the bloody hell is that?" Malfoy yelled when his silence was interrupted by people talking.
"It's the telly, and it won't kill you. It's a muggle form of entertainment. Like books come to life." Malfoy stared at the people on the screen for a minute.
"Can they hear us?" He whispered, hand reaching as if he wanted his wand. Hermione laughed.
"No, muggles capture a moving picture on a thing called film. It saves it so muggles can watch it over and over whenever they want. This film is pretty old, we were small children when it was made. I love it, my dad and I used to watch it whenever my mother was out of the house. My mother didn't think it was age appropriate with the language. She also doesn't like American movies." The two were silent as they watched Kevin Bacon dancing on the screen.
"Do you miss them? Your parents?"
"Where are your parents Malfoy?"
Malfoy chuckled. "Deflecting my question with an even more uncomfortable question. Fine Granger. Let's just watch this...film."
The rest of the night was peaceful. If Hermione closed her eyes, it almost felt as if she was having a movie night in with Ron. Hermione snapped her eyes open. That's not possible, not the way she was thinking. She wouldn't be able to snuggle into his chest as he played in her hair. How he'd entwined their fingers and rub his thumb across the back of her hand. Hermione shook her head. That was over, and for good reason.
"Everything alright Granger?"
"Perfect. I'm just going to get something to drink."
Hermione hoped he wouldn't notice she already had a drink in there, but it was the first excuse that came to mind. She began to shake as she held back tears, she refused to cry over this breakup. Everything will be fine in the end. They'll still be friends and neither would ruin their friendship because of a miserable marriage to each other. It's still not enough to mask the hurt.
Calming herself, Hermione walked back to the living room.
"I'm going to head to bed, going to work with Harry tomorrow to see what we can uncover. You remember how to turn everything off, right?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes Granger. I hit the red button on all of these little things." Malfoy said as he pointed to the remotes in front of him.
Hermione nodded. "Goodnight Malfoy."
"Goodnight." He didn't bother tearing his eyes away from the screen, pausing to glance down at the other titles Hermione placed on the coffee table. Good, she thought. She didn't really want to talk about her breakup to begin with, Malfoy being the last person she'd bring it up to. Grabbing one of the books on her night stand, Hermione fell into the world of the only stable thing she had, books.
Hermione woke to a tapping noise at her window. Hermione recognizes the snowy white owl, the spitting image of Hedwig. When Harry saw her, he couldn't pass her up. The owl nipped her gently as she took the letter and ruffled her feathers before taking off.
News broke about Malfoy this morning so your flat is probably surrounded. They know he's with you.
Also, so does Ron. He wants to know where you are. I value our friendship so I lied.
-Harry
Whoever this is leaking the stories are really testing her patience. Mostly because the circumstantial evidence makes them both look bad.
Setting Harry's letter on her desk she turned towards her closet so she could rush to the shower. She's interrupted a few seconds later by more tapping at the window. She turned to find Ron's owl on the ledge. The owl quickly turned and left as soon as Hermione took the letter. Not much for sentiment that one.
Mione, where are you? I've already been to your flat and some of your things are gone. Just let me know you're okay. I've talked to Harry and he said he didn't know where you are, but Harry's a rotten liar.
I know he's with you. If you ever feel threatened, let me know. I'll straighten out the ferret for you.
Please let me know,
Ron
Ron did have a point, Harry is a horrible liar. It probably won't be long until he gives into Ron, so Hermione decided to be the one to tell Ron.
I'm perfectly fine. I didn't fancy sharing a room with Malfoy so we're at my parents house. I'm not sure how the story broke, but glad I'm not at home. I'm also sure I can take on Malfoy if he makes me feel threatened in any way, but if I'm feeling overwhelmed I'll be sure to let you know.
-Hermione
Hermione went downstairs to the fireplace. Reciting Ron's address and throwing the floo powder right after it, she sent the letter through the floo. After all of these years she really should get an owl, but this was much faster for anyone who she's acquainted to.
"Damn it to hell, why won't it work?"
Hermione heard the frustrated growl coming from her kitchen. Terrified of having the spoiled pureblood in her kitchen, Hermione ran through the door. What she saw brought on laughter she hasn't heard in months. Standing in her kitchen was Malfoy pointing a remote control at the toaster.
"Why isn't this working Granger? They all worked last night!"
"Each one goes to a specific thing. There isn't one for the toaster. Here, I'll make it and you watch." Malfoy watched as Hermione put the slices of bread into the toaster and pressed the lever. She swore he jumped with they were finished, but she doubted he would ever admit to it.
"Now, you're all set. This time you try it for yourself." Hermione grabbed both pieces of toast and spread butter on them as Malfoy stared at her wide eyed. Hermione smiled and walked to her parent's office. This was a weird feeling smiling at Malfoy, even if it was to get under his skin. After all the years of bullying at Hogwarts, it was nice to have the upper hand for once.
Malfoy's home confinement forces her to work from home until this case is solved, or at least until Malfoy is proven innocent. Not that her boss would mind, a client like Malfoy would be willing to pay a lot more, especially with the amount of work required. Halfway through the letter to her boss, she heard yelling. Grabbing her wand, she quickly made her way to the kitchen. She finds a red faced Ron yelling inches away from Malfoy who seemed ready to shove Ron out of his face. When he did, Ron landed a punch to Malfoy's jaw. Hermione blasted the two men apart, preventing a fight in her kitchen. Boys.
