BOOK 1, CHAPTER 10: THE NEW WORLD
Draco Malfoy practically broke all the fingers on Hermione Granger's left hand by the time the British Airways jet landed on the runway at Logan Airport. He had only turned white on takeoff, but by the time they bounced around in a turbulent holding pattern over the Atlantic, he was a light shade of green. The two friends had little trouble getting through Customs or gathering up their trunks and other belongings. Hermione had kept her beaded bag with her as carryon departing Heathrow by having Harry hold it while she went through security, then using Accio to get it. In Boston, she simply hid it on the plane, then went to a secluded part of the airport and used Accio again.
When they got outside, Draco summoned a taxi and gave the driver 350 Third Street in Cambridge for an address. Draco couldn't believe how hard it was to get out of the airport. "Maybe we should have just unpacked the brooms," he said with a frown. Then he was totally freaked out when the cabbie shot through the tunnels under Boston Harbor.
Hermione gasped as they pulled up to a beautiful and modern looking white stone high rise. "Look at the size of those windows," she exclaimed. "Best address in Cambridge," said the cabbie. "Draco, we surely can't afford this!" she said. "You let me worry about the apartment. It's already paid for. I told you I'm not living in the slums," Malfoy said.
"Look. This place is perfect," Draco said, helping the driver set out their baggage and paying him. "MIT is only two blocks away, an easy walk for you if you want, or we'll buy you a bike, or better yet, you'll find a place on campus where you can apparate to without being seen. It's also only two blocks to one of those main transit "T" stations that Ginny mentioned, and there's direct transportation from there to Harvard. Unlike you, however, I expect I'll apparate most days."
"No doubt," she said with a smirk. "I'm sure that will further your muggle education no end."
"I think you'll like our place," Draco said. "It's on the 23rd Floor, the very top. It's a corner unit, and according to the floor plan, each of the two bedrooms has its own walk in bathroom. What I think we'll both like the best is that the bedrooms are at opposite ends of the penthouse, separated by a common room, so we'll have privacy when we want to get away from each other.
"It's all pre-wired up for that Internet thing you've been teaching me to use, and for muggle TV and telephone. And lest you think I'm paying for everything, all the utilities, as they call them here, are in your name, my dear. You will be paying those bills, and contributing to the food supply, and any other expenses. So don't feel you are a kept woman," he said with a big wink.
They entered the lobby, and both were literally stopped in their tracks. There was marble everywhere. A fountain bubbled. Off to one side was a huge common room called The Club, according to a sign. "Draco, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Hermione. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied. "All of the units here are owned. We are sub-letting from a Harvard history professor who is going on a one-year overseas sabbatical to Italy. Our place is fully furnished and decorated, and I have seen pictures. I think you'll find it's quite a change from Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, but I think you'll love it," he said as they stopped by the desk to check in.
"I purposely avoided anything that reminded me of Malfoy Manor, London row houses, or anything Victorian. If we're going to live in the New World, it should feel like the New World.
"The building comes with 24-hour concierge service, and twice a week maid service which you, my dear Hermione, are paying for. It will be just like having house elves, except we'll be paying for it and doing our own cooking. I'm sure you can handle that part, too, because I can't cook at all." A look of horror crossed her face. "But I'm willing to try to learn some basic cooking ideas," he added quickly.
"I've already got the keys," Draco told the woman at the desk, showing her the contract. She had them both sign a couple of additional documents, gave them security codes they would need for the elevator ("What the hell are 'elevators'?" Draco whispered to Hermione.) ("Shush!" she said. "Later.") and asked them about parking. "We won't be needing any," Hermione said. "We're used to public transportation; we'll mostly be using the 'T'," she added.
Hermione dragged Draco over to the elevator bank. "These are lifts, Draco," she said. "You've probably only seen them before at the Ministry of Magic, and there, they have operators to make them move up and down. These are self-service, so you push the arrow here in the direction you want to go, and that summons a car." A pair of white marble doors slid open. "Inside we go," she said. "Next, you have to push a button for the floor you want. You said 23rd floor?" she said, pushing the button to show him.
When they reached the top floor, they found the elevator opened directly across from Unit 10, which Draco said was theirs. He used the key. The door swung open, and Hermione nearly swooned on the spot. "Oh, Merlin's beard! My god, Draco, we're going to live here?" she exclaimed in delight, looking around at all the marble. Chrome and glass had been used extensively in decorating, but all the seating was well-padded and extremely soft and comfortable leather. A couple of the walls were lined with bookcases, and Hermione immediately found several interesting technical books on the shelves. The view from the common room was straight out over the Charles River, looking on downtown Boston, and it was breathtaking.
"Each of the bedrooms has a big picture window as well," Draco said. "You check them both out, and then take your choice, milady," he added with a smile. She walked into both by turns, also looking into the bathrooms. Finding that both had tubs, she told him she would take the one with the view of the bridge, if he didn't mind. "That is really a very pretty bridge," she added.
"One thing, Draco," she said with a question in her eyes, "there's no linens on the beds or in the bathrooms."
"Hermione, you worry about the most practical details," he said with a chuckle. "Guess what. There's no food in the fridge or pantry, either. But it will be here shortly. I made an initial order, and scheduled it all for delivery in, oh, let's see," he said looking at his muggle watch, "about ten minutes from now. So just go get unpacked and don't worry about a thing. Mister Malfoy has everything under control," said the blond boy with another wink.
The next week was filled with settling in, checking in with their schools, buying their books, and the other shopping they needed to complete to set up their housekeeping. They learned the bus and subway routes, explored Boston and the surrounding towns, and paid a visit to the Salem School of Witching and Wizarding because Professor McGonagall had asked them to. They got their school schedules, and together, explored one another's campus. They found a few hours each night to explore some of the local nightlife. Draco discovered that the building had a fitness club.
When school started, they found themselves buried in class work and homework. Draco, in particular, had a lot of catching up to do since he was so generally unfamiliar with the non-magical world. His class work was largely in the JFK School of Government, but he needed a great deal of history background in order to progress at a satisfactory rate. Luckily, their apartment was the property of a history professor, so most of the books were on their shelves.
Hermione had less problems adjusting to her course work. As a lifetime bookworm, she already had a strong background in both non-magic and magic physics and mathematics. Most of her course work revolved around catching up with latest advances and theories in muggle physics.
"I've always thought that our world and their world are much more closely connected than we would like to think," Hermione explained to Draco over dinner one night. "In fact, I think one of the biggest problems that the Death Eaters had as a group was the failure to understand how closely connected both worlds are. You know, those who have promoted the idea of wizards having a right to rule have often claimed that muggle borns and half bloods have stolen their powers from pure blood wizards and witches. Umbridge actually held an inquisition based on that idea. They ignore the fact that species evolve, and that those born with magical powers are a product of evolution.
"My theory is that most magic is based on physics. It's just that we have discovered different ways to apply physics to perform tasks, just as the muggles have also applied physics in ways we don't always understand or use. The basis of our power, however, is some form of mental control of physical forces. We are somehow able to tune into matter at an elemental level and control it. For example, when Harry was 10 years old, long before he knew he was a wizard, he managed to make the glass in a zoo exhibit disappear. He allowed a snake to escape, and actually spoke parcel tongue to it without even knowing he had done it. And when his cousin Dudley fell into the exhibit, Harry rematerialized the glass.
"Some other examples are how we can use brooms to fly, or how we manage apparition. The most modern muggle physics accounts for the makeup of the universe by both matter that they can see and control, and other forms of counter-balancing matter they call dark matter, or sometimes 'foam'. I think what we do when we fly or apparate is find a way to get traction from the foam…the stuff that holds the more visible types of matter together. I think we use our mental focus to 'grab hold' of the foam like the tires on a muggle car grab the road.
"I think that the main purpose of our wands is to allow us to focus our mental control and what we want to accomplish with a spell. Now, this is where I want to focus my own research, because there's a lot that goes on with wands, including the fact that wands choose their masters. There seems to be some sort of physical adjustment between the user and the tool that I can't explain yet." Hermione said.
"So how would you explain potion making, for example?" asked Draco, whose curiosity had truly been spurred by this conversation.
"Potion making is really pretty elementary," Hermione said. "It's just chemistry, really. The difference is that the magical world has learned to use a lot of different ingredients that the muggles either don't know about, haven't tried, or have lost the knowledge of the past. It's just a combination of elements, many of which are very complex molecules. Do you know what a molecule is, Draco?" she asked him.
"Yeah, I think so. A combination of atoms isn't it?" Malfoy said.
"Right, held together by attractions at an even more elemental level…sometimes all the way down to the particle level." Hermione said. "Particles are the things at the sub-atomic level that, among other things, make up atoms and foam."
"Well, if it's just chemistry, why don't potions work if you don't put the ingredients together in just the right order, or stir them a certain number of times clockwise or counter-clockwise?" he asked, a bit of a smug challenge in his voice.
"Again, I think most of that has to do with how we focus our mental energy when we are making the potion," she said with a smile. "The reason you and I can make a potion and a muggle can't is because we have not only learned to combine ingredients, but to control the way they combine at an elemental level. But we don't really know that's what we're doing, any more than we know we are controlling light and energy when we use our wands to control matter. It's subconscious for us, and we're born with the ability. That's the talent that separates a potential student at Hogwarts from another person. What we learn at school is ways to control the talent we're born with, but it's still just another way to control the physical world."
"You know, you really are the most brilliant witch ever!" exclaimed Malfoy. Hermione's face turned bright red. "In just two hours, you've managed to get my head spinning with ideas I've never thought about before. And here's another idea. If wizards really understood what you're talking about, imagine how much more powerful we could become, because we would make more effort to learn to control even more."
"Careful, Draco dear," Hermione said. "When you talk like that, you start to sound more like a typical Malfoy than someone who has turned from the dark side. If you think about it, I believe you'll find that's exactly what your father and Riddle and his followers were playing around with. That's a really dangerous way to think. We shouldn't really be thinking about more ways to become powerful. Evolution is taking care of that. Our talents give us a survival advantage. What we need to be thinking about is finding ways to integrate magic and physics for the good of all people.
"I really hope that's the central point in your own studies," she continued. "You learn to work more closely with muggles, and I'll learn to give you knowledge that will be worth something to them.
"Now, I don't know about you, but my head is spinning from this conversation! I say we give the books and studying a break for tonight. Let's go dancing!" she said.
As a matter of fact, dancing was one of the interests Hermione and Draco truly shared. They had both developed a love of muggle pop music over the past couple of years, and there certainly was no shortage of clubs in the Boston area. At least once, and usually twice a week, they took much needed breaks from the books, and found places with up and coming local bands. One popular place was The Jukebox, and they also liked TT The Bears because it was closer.
While they both danced really well together, both of them also liked dancing with other people. Practically the first night out on the town, Malfoy had learned he would need to control any feelings of jealousy, because Hermione had grown into a very attractive young woman, and she seemed to exude sexuality on the dance floor. The first night at The Jukebox, a muscular guy had come up to him and asked Draco if he minded if he danced with his date. "She's a free agent," Draco said, and that was the last he saw of her that night. He controlled his envy by ending up in the arms of a very attractive redhead.
He soon got used to her being hit on almost everywhere they went, and to her penchant for experimentation. "I told you when we made these plans that we grew up with way too many rules, and I'm here to break as many of them as I can before I have to grow up," she said. Most evenings, he settled for the fact that at the end of the night, she would go home with him. But there were nights when she disappeared, and he supposed she had gone off to spend the night with someone she had met at the club. His instinct to protect her kicked in, and it wasn't long before he started complaining that she should at least come and tell him she was leaving, and where she planned to go. Of course, the fact that he often did the same thing didn't cross his mind.
"You are not my jailer!" she retorted one morning after she had come in really late. "I just don't want you wandering off with one of these strangers, and finding out later that he hurt you," Draco said defensively. "You have nothing to worry about," she said. "A wand is a wonderful defensive tool."
"And have you had to use it in your defense?" he accused. "Actually, yes. I've laid out a couple of these blokes, but you should know I've gone to bed with a couple of them too," she said. "Look, here's the main point. One of these days, Ronald is going to ask me to marry him. You know that as well as I do. When that moment comes, I want to know that he really is the only one for me. And I think I can only find that out by being with some other guys to see how they measure up to Ron."
On September 19, Draco took Hermione into Boston for her birthday dinner. They had New England Clam Chowder and lobsters, then he took her to the hottest dance club in Boston, and succeeded in keeping her to himself all night. He gave her a gold and diamond charm for the bracelet he had given her the preceding Christmas, one he had crafted himself with several Boston memories kept within. When they got home, she surprised him by spinning into his arms and kissing him softly. "Thank you for being my friend," was all she said.
Several weeks later, they met a young man named Michael Donner at TT's. Hermione, Draco and Donner seemed to hit it off right away, but it turned out that Michael had a problem. He was AWOL from the Army, and essentially homeless. "I'm not proud of myself, but I've been finding places to stay mostly by picking up girls in bars," he said with refreshing candidness. "The US wants to send me back to Bosnia for the third time, and I just don't think it's fair." A few dances, a few muggle beers, and Michael was invited back to their place to sleep on the couch.
A couple of days stretched into a couple of weeks, and one afternoon, Draco returned early from class to find Donner and Hermione in her room. "You could have bothered to close the damn door," Malfoy said with and evil smirk. A couple of red faces and naked torsos peeked out from beneath the covers. "Has this been going on long? I thought we had an agreement not to bring this part of our lives home," he said with annoyance.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, Hermione said, "I really like him Malfoy, not that it's any of your business."
"Right," he said. "It's not, but it's almost Christmas. What do you suppose Ron is going to say about this arrangement when he comes over to visit?"
"Ronald does not own me any more than you do!" she said. "And I don't need you to protect me from any of my boyfriends," she added.
Hermione would never know about the knot in Draco's stomach every time he saw her with another man. There were times it was so intense, he wanted to vomit. There were times he could not study, he could not eat. There were times when his only recourse was to go down to the fitness center and work off his frustration. He felt it was unfair that she could not see, could not feel the way about him that he felt about her. He had told her a year ago, and told her it was nothing new. But it was clear she didn't believe him, or that she wanted something else. So, he suffered in silence, convinced that the best way to love her was to let her have whatever she wanted, whether it was good for her or not. But not this time. Anyone could see that Donner had mental problems and legal problems, and that he was only going to hurt her or drag her down.
The next day, Malfoy did some research, and picked up the telephone to make a couple of calls.
The day after that, when Donner headed out to do some shopping, he found two members of the Military Police sitting in an olive drab sedan outside the apartment building. Above, Draco watched from a window as they handcuffed him and put him in the back of the car. And when Hermione got home from class, he had the awful duty of telling her that her boyfriend had been arrested, and hauled away in handcuffs; the painful duty of holding her and letting her cry on his shoulder.
By now, it was mid-December. Ron sent a letter letting them know he would have two weeks off for the Christmas and New Years league break, and that he was flying to Boston to stay with them. School broke for the holidays a week later, and the roommates took a cab out to Logan Airport to meet the redhead. Malfoy was not delighted, but by now, he had learned how to put on the appropriate show around them. In fact, Christmas was actually very pleasant, although the fact that Ron was sleeping in Hermione's room, and not on the couch, had Malfoy gritting his teeth at bedtime. Some nights, he compensated by picking up a girl at a bar or calling one of the muggle girls he had already bedded, and bringing them back to the apartment to make the point.
They spent most of the time shopping and decorating, or taking Ron around to the local clubs and tourist sights in Boston. One night, they went to Boston Garden to see the Celtics host the Wizards, not exactly knowing what to expect. What they saw was a form of Quidditch played on a small hardwood court with only one ring at each end. There was only a quaffle, and no snitch or bludgers, but the game was exciting in its own way.
"Do you suppose they use any magic?" Ron asked.
"I don't think so," Hermione said, although some of them certainly can throw that ball through the goal from a long way out!" Draco couldn't get over how big some of the players were.
"Almost don't need brooms to fly," he exclaimed.
They put up a tree, and used magic to decorate it so they would have a sense of home. On Christmas Eve, they roasted a standing rib, made Yorkshire pudding and Plum Cake with Hard Sauce. Malfoy had found a special bottle of 12-year-old French wine in a local shop. Malfoy had also invited one of his girl friends, a lithe blond from California named Lindsay, to spend the evening with them. Needless to say, she was enchanted by the magical fairies and stars decorating the apartment, and wanted to know how they worked. When they told her they boys were wizards, and Hermione was a witch, she got a big laugh. They didn't even need to use a memory charm the next morning.
On Christmas morning, they exchanged gifts as per custom, and Hermione received 'A Short History Of The Universe' from Draco. She got Ron a braided copper bracelet with knobs on each end, telling him that according to muggle physics, it would give him more energy and help his injuries heal faster.
Ron asked Hermione to sit with him under the tree. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small ring box. "Like Harry and Ginny, I don't suppose we are ready to get married just yet," he said, "but I do love you more than anything, and I want you for my wife. Will you wear my ring?"
Hermione smiled, and tears trickled from both eyes. She had been afraid Ron would take the opportunity, and now the time had come. "Ron, this is a bit of a surprise," she lied. "I didn't expect I'd have to think about this until school was over and we were more settled in our lives. I'm so honored, but can you give me until New Year's Eve to think about it?"
"Uh, well sure, Hermione," he said awkwardly. "No pressure, no problem," he added, clearly having not expected any reluctance on her part.
The week passed far too quickly for Hermione, and far too slowly for Ron. On December 30, she slipped into Draco's room. "Can I talk to you awhile," she asked. "Sure," the blond boy replied.
"I just don't know what to tell Ronald right now," she said. "I always knew this was going to happen. I think that maybe I knew it when I was 12 years old. But the trouble is that he and I went through so much together with Harry, and it took me a very long time to realize consciously how I always felt subconsciously. In the meantime, he's become sort of like an old rubber overshoe, always around and always protective, and I know I can count on him.
"But Draco, sometimes there's just no passion, except when we argue, and we do that too much I sometimes think. Don't get me wrong…sex is good with Ron. But I don't think I feel the love in the act that he feels. It worries me. I can't see myself as a little country housewife like Molly Weasley, raising a house full of kids. There has to be more in my life than that," she said.
"Hermione, I can't tell you what to feel," Malfoy said. "I especially can't and won't tell you what to do, and you know why. I'm too selfish. All I want for you is that you are happy, and that you somehow continue to include me in your life. But I'm also not stupid. Between me and Weasley, there is no question where you will have the more stable and predictable life.
"Frankly, I doubt that it matters in my life whether you choose him, or some other bloke, because I don't think you can see yourself with me under any circumstance. So, what can it hurt to wear his ring? Send him home happy. For Harry and Ginny, this step was an unbreakable promise and commitment, but it doesn't have to be for you. You can always change your mind if you want," Draco said.
She put her arms around him. "You have become an amazing guy, Draco Malfoy. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being my sounding board. Thank you for taking such good care of me. Sometimes I wish we could go back in time and take a different road, don't you?" she said.
"Yes, Hermione, I do that, with all my heart," he said, "but the muggles have a saying about the path not taken, and the time in your life you can waste thinking about it. In our world, we still have to live with the choices we make. That's what Dumbledore was trying to teach us. I didn't get it, but you and Harry and Ron all did. Your road leads a different place than mine, I'm afraid."
The next night, they took Ron to The Jukebox to welcome in the 21st Century, one of the major milestones in both the muggle and magic worlds. "You know, if we were in London, we would be amazed at seeing the celebration live," Ron said as they watched various celebrations from around the world on television. "Don't sell Boston short," said Lindsay Oliver, Draco's California girl. In fact, the fireworks display across the Charles was worthy of the Weasley joke shop.
"Let's start the Millennium off right," Hermione whispered in Ron's ear as they danced in the first hour. He had been too concerned to press her, but smiled a big smile, lifted her off the floor, twirled her around when she told him she had decided she would wear the ring. He didn't notice that she carefully avoided saying she would marry him. They went back to their table, and he slipped it on her finger while their friends, including Malfoy, gave them a standing ovation.
The night would have been perfect for Ron, except he had a bit too much to drink. So, when another boy from a different group asked Hermione to dance, and she accepted, he was not pleased. And when the boy let his hands stray down her back to her butt, Ron whipped out his wand and fired off a full body curse that dropped the poor unsuspecting kid like a stone, dragging Hermione along with him to the floor. In the ensuing turmoil, Draco and Hermione had to fire off memory charms left and right just to get their group out the door.
"Ronald, I've half a mind to give you back this ring already," Hermione railed at him. But Draco and Lindsay were laughing, and she was going on and on about how they really must be wizards. "All I can say is that it's a damn good thing we're not in England after all, or the next stop would be the Ministry of Magic courtroom," Malfoy said, barely managing to get it out between horselaughs. "Actually, Hermione, I've wanted to do the same thing several times this past year," he whispered to her so their friends couldn't hear. Her eyes flew open, and she blushed.
On Monday, they took Ron to the airport. He was due to report to the Canons at midweek. Promises were made, hugs and kisses and handshakes were exchanged. But as they watched the silver bird rise into the sky, it was Draco and Hermione who were gently holding hands.
"Do you remember the at the beginning of term when we were talking about the path not taken?" Draco asked Hermione one night as they sat together in the common room, doing homework.
"Humm, yes, sort of," she said.
"Hermione, do you think time travel is possible?" he asked. "I mean does it fit in with your concepts of physics and magic?"
"That's a really good question," she said. She was silent for quite a long time, mulling over her answer. "I don't really think so, Draco. First of all, I am certain you can't go forward, like to the future. I don't think in our universe there is a future beyond where we are in time until we experience it. Think of it like this…if time was like a beam of light, we are on the very front edge of the light wave. My best evidence for this is that if the future already existed, and time travel was possible, then we would have been visited by time travelers."
"Maybe we have been, and we just don't know it because they choose not to make themselves known," he said.
"No," she replied. "I don't think that argument holds up given human nature. For example, if you went far enough out in the future that either muggles or wizards had learned how to travel back through time, then it seems certain to me there would be bad people who wouldn't care about changing the past, or whether we knew about them or not. No, I think the fact that we don't know of any time travelers from the future is proof positive that either there is no existing future, or that there is no time travel, or both.
"Now, I think we can eliminate the idea that time travel to and from the future is possible, but going back in time is really a different question then, isn't it? We know there is a past," she said. "Again, if we envision time as a beam of light, which is really how astronomers see it presently, then it is more like a continuous stream backwards from where we are on the front edge of time. We know light has physical properties; that it is made up of energy and particles.
"Theoretically, we wizards could use light for traction to travel, just like we use dark matter now. If time is made up the same way, then there is no reason we couldn't use it the same way too," she said. "It would just be a matter of learning how to get traction. We know there were time-turners. I used one myself third year to take a double class load. But I think they only worked over short periods of time; you know, just several hours, not days or weeks, and certainly not years. A time-turner is more like setting back a clock. They're all destroyed now, anyway.
"I also know the Department of Mysteries continues to work on time travel. But again, here's the thing: They've been working on it for centuries! I am pretty sure they have done some remarkable things in that Department. That's why I want to work there. I think they may have even opened some connections between universes. I think that's why we can contact people who have died. But I don't think they've found any way to move between universes, or to travel in time.
"Also, I think that would be a very dangerous thing to learn, and I don't think anyone has learned to do it yet. Think about the way you started this conversation. You asked, 'Do you think time travel is possible?' I don't know why you asked, but I suspect there are things you would change if you could go back, right?"
"Well, yeah, no question," Draco said.
"See, I think that's the problem with going backwards. As we talked about that one day, there are always a lot of possible paths at any point in time, and you choose which ones to follow. If you go back too far and pick a different path, it is highly likely you change not only that path, but also all the roads that followed from the first choice. Seems to me that could only lead to disaster eventually, because once again, some people with less than honorable motives would go back and change something that would destroy the world, or at least the world as everyone else senses it.
"I mean, here's the worst case scenario. Suppose someone travels back in time and changes the very paths that lead to the discovery of how to travel back in time. What happens then, even to the time traveler? But if that's what happens to him, how did he get to the spot in the future where he began his trip? See, this creates what some scientists call a paradox, a question that essentially cannot be resolved," she said.
"And anyway, while it's a good question for you and me to sit around and talk about, it's really moot. Even if it's possible, you and I don't know how, so we're not going anywhere, are we?" she said with a big grin and a pat on Draco's knee.
The rest of the winter passed uneventfully. The routine of classes, studying, housekeeping and the occasional night out kept both Draco and Hermione extremely busy. Or, as Draco remarked one night, "It's no fun being smart!"
Spring came early, however, and the two were glad to be able to spend more time outdoors, often taking long walks around Cambridge, watching rowing on the Charles, and other students walking hand in hand. Hermione had decided she never really owned any true summer clothes, so she snuck off to do some shopping in the trendy shops aimed at the student population. She returned with a dozen bags, and then pretty much took Draco's breath away with some short tops and shorter shorts. After Ron had left, she had decided she was getting fat, not that Draco could see it, and started working out with him in the fitness club. As her training rate improved, he started pushing her harder towards his own pace.
With spring, they started running outside, and she discovered there was a big difference between indoor and outdoor exercise. In early April, he pushed her past her normal limit on a long run, and when they returned to the apartment at dusk, she could barely move. Her feet were in agony, her muscles tight and sore.
"Ok, my little witch," Draco said with a smirk. "I guess it's time for Coach Malfoy to help you out again. First thing, go run as hot a tub as you can stand, and go steep in it for a while. When you get out, don't get dressed. Just wrap yourself up in a towel and come into your bedroom, where I'll be waiting for you."
When Hermione got out of the bath and entered the bedroom, she gasped in surprise. Draco had covered her bed with an immense towel, and lighted magical candles all around the room. "Lie down please, face down," he commanded. Keeping towel around herself, she shyly complied. "One of the things you don't know about me is that I became an excellent masseur when I captained the Quidditch team," he said. "Now, what I have here are several bowls of warmed oils. Some of them are fragrant, some are invigorating, and some are decadently relaxing. When I am done with you, you will be massaged within an inch of your life," he added with a trace a braggadocio in his voice.
He started with her sore feet. Using some of the oil, he gently rubbed and squeezed, lightly tickling the soles, then massaging out the tension. He used a special oil on the couple of angry red spots where her trainers had rubbed the wrong way. He continued up her ankles and calves, rubbing the tightness out of the muscles and joints. Before working higher, he decided to work on her back. "Take off that damn towel," he commanded.
He climbed up on the bed, placing one knee on either side of her butt. Switching to one of the fragrant oils, he began with the back of her neck and worked his way down. Hermione began to moan with the pleasure of his touch as he worked his way over her shoulder blades and down to the light down in the place where her spine met her cheeks. He slid his hands around on her sides, and up her rib cage, then began to work on each of her arms in turn, wrapping his hands around them, and stroking them.
Sliding a little lower, he chose one of the mildly analgesic oils for the back of her thighs and buttocks. Knowing these were the tightest muscles, he spent a great deal of time kneading and sliding his long sensitive fingers over the smooth slick skin. By now, Hermione was practically purring, and she gasped with anticipation when he slipped his hands to the insides of her legs. He was now sweating from the work, so he slipped off his shirt. "Roll over," he directed.
She didn't even think twice. "See, you really can trust me," he said, gazing down on her naked body. He thought to himself that he had never seen anything more beautiful, and he was not inexperienced. Choosing another fragrance, he started at her shoulders and worked his way down over her breasts, making them as slippery as possible. Hermione was groaning in pleasure, and he could feel her starting to try to lift her hips off the bed as he circled his oily fingers over her.
Suddenly, she reached up off the bed and grabbed him around the neck. Opening her mouth, she drew him down into a passionate kiss, getting oil all over his own upper torso while she was at it. Holding the kiss, they slipped seductively against each other, and now they both were panting and moaning. "Take off your shorts," she ordered. "You're not the only one who gives orders here tonight!"
It only took him a couple of moments to be just as naked on the bed as she was. She looked him over with lust in her eyes, seeing the beautifully sculpted athletic body and chiseled face. He loomed over her again, and now used more oil for the smooth taught skin of her stomach. Reactively, she began to open for him, and he let his oiled fingers trail over her. "Come into me," she gasped. "Finish me, please," she begged.
He took a finger and place it on the two little scars below her lip, and stroked them lightly. "Hush now," he said. She rubbed her hands over her own breasts, picking up some of the oil on her palms, and then reached down to capture him. He gasped in surprise and pleasure. "Now Draco," she said, and this time he knew there was no delaying. She guided him, and he pressed into her, and the lubrication let him sink to the hilt. He felt her tighten around him.
Looking into her eyes, he seized her mouth with his again, but they both needed air they were panting so intently. "Oh Merlin…oh god…it's never been like this before," he gasped, and for her part, Hermione just kept urging him to keep going as she rose higher and higher towards the crest. And then suddenly, they were in a place neither had ever been before, with every nerve ending alive with pleasure and release, floating together and hoping it would never end.
When they could think again, she looked up at him. "You weren't kidding about learning how to give a massage, were you?" she panted.
"How do you feel? Think you'll live?" he asked with a chuckle and a peck on the forehead.
"Oh I think maybe, but now I'm just so tired. Will you stay with me tonight? I think I'd like to go to sleep and wake up with you holding me."
The next morning was a little tense. "Believe me, I never meant to seduce you," he said. "I care way too much for you to do that."
"And believe me, that was the one single rule I never ever planned to break," Hermione said. "My life was complicated and conflicted enough without you in it in that way. Why couldn't you just go back to being the evil conceited prat I always thought you were? Then my life was simple. I thought I hated you. I thought you hated me. I thought I loved Ron and Harry, and that it was Ron I would want in the end."
"Well, I guess we've really screwed our lives up now," he said, and they both laughed at the unintended pun.
"I guess, but I'm not sorry," she said. "At some point, I guess I had to find out how it would be with you. But why did it have to be so good?"
"Maybe you love me more than you think you do," he said. "Maybe you love me the way I love you."
"Maybe so. But let's try to keep a little separation in our lives until we get back home," she said. "I've got to think a lot about this, and I don't think I can if you're in my bed. I'm not sure it's fair to the others, because you've got me to yourself right now."
"Yeah, I can see that. It is unfair competition, isn't it?" he said with a laughing smirk.
"You insufferable git!" she said to him with a laugh, and then she threw her arms around him and kissed him again.
"Besides, school is almost over, we've got to start packing up and getting ready to go home. Oh, by the way, it's your turn to handle the arrangements this time," he said with a big grin.
The next few weeks were a springtime flurry of tests, thesis defenses, and packing. The first week of June, Hermione arrived home early to find a letter from Michael Donner in the mail. It was short, and to the point.
Hey bitch:
Thanks a lot. Six years in prison.
How nice of you to let them know where I was.
Better cover your trail by the time I get out!
She was stunned. Draco had only told her that he had seen the MPs arrest Michael. He had never gone into any details, and she supposed there was no reason Malfoy would know any. Now, she suddenly had a cold and very empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she could feel a hot band of pain and anger tightening around her heart. So, he had betrayed her after all. Just like always, he wanted to pretend he was protecting her from herself, when all he really wanted was to eliminate a rival.
By the time Malfoy returned, Hermione has worked herself into an angry lather. "Want to comment on this?" she said, throwing the piece of paper at him. He glanced at it. "Not really," he said. "I guess he's crazy and needs to blame someone instead of himself."
"You turned him in!" she screamed at him.
"Proof?" he said. "Where's the proof? I didn't have anymore to do with the Army finding him than you did," he said, but he half turned away so she couldn't see the lie in his eyes. "Besides, he was the worst possible relationship for you at the time. He was bound to end up in prison, and if it had gone on much longer, it would have broken your heart when they hauled him off. If you'll remember, it was a very long night as it was."
"Over-protective as always," she shouted. "Damn it, Malfoy, it's my life, not yours. You have no right to interfere. And here we are, just at a place where it might have been really good between us, and I find I still can't trust you! Now, never! I wish I could just throw you out in the street, but thankfully, next week we're going home, and I won't have to put up with you any longer. You go get on with your life, and I'll get on with mine, and we'll just have to live without the path not taken."
The week passed in stony silence between them. They finished their exams, got their grades, packed their belongings. He slept in his room, she slept in hers. When it came time to leave for the airport, she grudgingly accepted his help as they got their belongings to the curb and checked out.
As the cab pulled away, Malfoy looked back at the building, and thought to himself that he had never been so happy as he had been there, and yet, that he had probably never really destroyed his own happiness to such a great extent before. Hermione sat far over on her side of the seat, and did not look back at all.
When they got on the plane, where she had made all the arrangements, he was not surprised to be sitting several rows behind her.