Chapter Eight

Draco didn't know what to do for Hermione. Granted, he had known her since they were eleven, but he never really knew her. He knew her as well as any bully knew their prey. Yet, he wasn't a bully anymore and he fully intended to make it up to her, because despite the short amount of time they spent together, he felt himself falling in love with her.

It should have felt crazy, but it felt... Sane. Logical. How could he not? Hermione was beyond the brightest witch of their age, she was fun and kind. It was impossible not to love her. Suddenly, he realized that perhaps Potter and Weasley hadn't been hanging around her for the sake of their poor marks, but because they actually did care for her.

Draco wasn't pleased about the separate accommodations in the hotel, but he was grateful then. It was easier to sneak out without Hermione knowing. Through a hotel service, he sent up a spa gift package. Hermione would nurse her wounds in a mud bath while he took care of things.

It was easy enough to get to the Granger's. All he had to do was tell the clerks to hail him a cab, and there it was, waiting for him. He did everything as Hermione had done the day before. It was easy, but it wasn't enjoyable. He thought it was the particular cab they took yesterday but it seemed that every cab smelled of spoiled food and cheap cleaners. Twenty long minutes passed in silence and the cab pulled up to the house.

He padded his pockets for the muggle money he sometimes kept on him. Okay, it was a recent development since the war ended. He couldn't go anywhere without dirty stares in the Wizarding World and so he found himself in muggle places. The pubs were nice, people yelled at moving boxes, and no one bothered him much.

Draco handed the driver a few wrinkled bills. By his exclamation, Draco assumed it was sufficient.

He approached the door and took a deep breath. The Granger's would have no idea who he was but he still intended on giving a good first impression. He knocked heavily on the door.

A man in a brand new blue house robe answered (the sales tag sticking out from the collar). He was far from happy, but Draco could see Hermione in his eyes and the thin lines of his mouth, and his hair, too, was quite unruly and brown. Draco couldn't help but smile. All those stories that he heard of her parents he thought of then. He had desperatly wanted to meet them, to prove his old prejudices had died, but Hermione called him silly. Even so, he was glad to be meeting the ordinary muggle man who had lifted her on his shoulders to put a star on the tree, and tangled her up in twinkling lights.

"What do you want? Do you know what time it is? Me and my wife are having dinner."

"Hello, sir. I'm sorry for the inconvenience of the hour." Draco worked hard to keep his voice calm and polite. It was a great struggle because the man's visage made Draco want to spat at him. "My name is Draco Malfoy."

"I'll ask you again, son, what do you want? Whatever it is, we're not interested in buying it."

Draco took out his wand from under his shirt under his back jean pocket and pointed his wand at the man's forehead. "I'm sorry for this, Mr. Granger, but your daughter needs you."


A/N: I am so sorry that I am now only posting this chapter! While I am adding this note, I will say that I no longer read the reviews. It's for a myriad of reasons. Again, I apologize for the lateness! Love to you all!