Hermione found the gate between Muggle London and one of its magical enclaves. It was a simple wrought-iron pedestrian gate on a side street, opening into a small park. The gate was locked but the latch clicked when she said the password, "patefacio." She entered the park, closing the gate behind her. She hadn't gone more than a few steps before she saw Draco Malfoy sitting on a bench, wearing the Muggle clothing he presumably wore when using Platform 9 3/4. Unlike many wizarding folk, he didn't look like he'd put on someone else's clothing in the dark, though he could use a few pointers.
Draco saw her. He closed the book he was reading, letting her see the cover. She smiled. It was Conflict Resolution for Your Pre-Teen. That brought back memories.
It was late June. They were both twelve years old. Just yesterday they had stepped off the Hogwarts Express in London to begin their summer holidays.
He stood. "Hi," he whispered. "Let's get out of here. No talking."
She nodded. He slouched to the gate, hands in pockets. She followed. He straightened up after a couple of blocks. She said, "We're going the wrong way."
"Good. You can take the lead now. No backtracking."
They arrived at the hotel a few minutes later. As they entered the lobby, Hermione asked, "Any last requests?"
Draco smiled. "Breakfast would be nice."
"We'll feed you after you meet my parents."
"What have you told them, Granger?"
"Not much. You're the kind of shock that can't be softened."
"Harsh. You're getting better at this all the time."
"Thank you." They reached the lift. Hermione gestured to the call button and said, "This is a lift."
"And over there we have a potted plant. Are we playing the 'name something in the room' game?"
"Sorry."
"I've used both lifts and escalators, I'll have you know. One of each. We went to a department store to buy these stylish clothes."
"Your first shopping trip in Muggle London?" asked Hermione as she stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the third floor.
"Yes. It was fun. Though Mother refused to let me throw handfuls of change at the locals or make them kneel before me."
"Poor Malfoy." They reached their floor and stepped into the hallway. She added, "Just behave, all right?"
Draco said, "I'll follow your lead. When you spit on the floor, I spit on the floor."
"Eww! You're the worst person ever."
"You're the worst person ever. That night you lost fifty points, I only lost twenty. You're thirty points worse than me."
"At least I don't— Oh. Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad."
They'd practically barged into Hermione's parents in the hallway. Both her parents were trying not to laugh. Hermione could feel herself blushing.
Draco recovered first. In his most insufferable drawl, he said, "Mum, Dad, I'd like you to meet my friend, Hermione Granger."
"Malfoy!" said Hermione.
Her father said, "We've met."
Hermione sighed and said, "Allow me to introduce Draco Malfoy." She glared at Draco. "You know, the … person I've been talking about."
Her father shook Draco's hand. "Wendell Granger."
Her mother shook Draco's hand and said, "Monica. Shall we go down to breakfast?"
Draco looked at Hermione, letting her take the lead. She tried to glare at him again but they smiled at each other instead. She said, "Yes, let's."
The restaurant was almost empty, so they could talk freely. Draco set down his menu without looking at it and whispered to Hermione, "You're ordering for both of us."
Hermione whispered, "Malfoy! We've never eaten a meal together! I don't know what you like!" She looked anxiously through the menu for something he was sure to love—or hate.
Her father asked Draco, "Are you friends with Harry Potter?"
Draco shook his head. "None of Granger's friends can stand me."
Her mother asked Hermione, "That can't be true, can it, dear?"
"It's true," said Hermione glumly. She set down her menu and told Draco, "Belgian waffles."
The waitress arrived and took their orders. When they were alone again, Draco said told Hermione's parents, "I'm on the wrong sides of two rivalries. One is between Slytherin House and Gryffindor House. The other is between my father and Ronald Weasley's father. So it's an uphill battle."
"That was very good!" said Hermione.
"Thank you."
Her mother asked, "Do your friends give you a hard time for liking Draco?"
"They don't know. It's a secret."
"For how long?"
"Almost the whole school year."
Her mother blinked. "You don't worship each other from afar, do you?"
Draco opened his mouth, probably to say, "Not far enough," but Hermione glared at him and he closed his mouth again.
Hermione said, "Mostly we study together in a quiet corner of the library. Nobody goes there."
Their food arrived and conversation lagged for a while. Draco enjoyed his Belgian waffles. When their plates were cleared away, Hermione's mother asked, "What would you two like to do today?"
Draco looked enquiringly at Hermione, who said, "I'd like to take Malfoy shopping."
Her father asked, "Why do you call each other by your last names?"
"So people won't know we're friends," said Hermione. "That's why all the insults, too." She felt herself blushing.
"It's adorable," said her mother.
Draco became serious and said, "We're careful. My parents don't know, either. We're one of those ancient pure-blood families. I'm not supposed to associate with Muggle-borns, especially girls."
Hermione's father raised his eyebrows, but it was her mother who asked him, "And what do you think, dear?"
Draco said, "Hermione is an exception. Possibly the first one ever."
Hermione said, "That's excellent!"
"I knew you'd like it."
Her father agreed. "Clever. It sidesteps a long-running debate and goes straight for the answer you want."
Her mother said, "But some arguments against Muggle-borns are cultural. Maybe we should hint that someone was mentoring Hermione at home." She turned to Draco, "Did she have trouble adjusting to Hogwarts?"
Draco said "Not really, except her horrible taste in friends."
Hermione said, "You're not that bad."
"I meant Potter and Weasley. But other than that, you did fine. You won a lot of points for your house and got terrific exam scores."
"You did those things, too."
"Then we're both well-adjusted. Especially me."
Her father said, smiling, "You two can keep this up all day, can't you?"
"I can," said Draco. "She's useless."
"What?" asked Hermione incredulously. Her father held up a hand and she subsided.
Draco took the opportunity to tell him, "You seem to know a lot about the wizarding world."
Her father replied, "We read everything the outreach department of the Ministry of Magic had to offer, of course, before term started. Then we did some serious research. And we subscribe to the Daily Prophet."
Draco told Hermione, "They take after you, don't they?"
Ignoring this, Hermione asked her father, "Do you have an owl I don't know about?"
"There's a mail-drop system that uses the Royal Mail to deliver wizard mail to ordinary street addresses. It works in the other direction too, though not as well."
"I've never heard of it," said Hermione.
"It's not as well-known as it should be. I'll show you two how to use it."
Her mother cut in, "But all that aside, yes, we've heard how much trouble a pure-blood son can be in for having a Muggle-born girlfriend. (I hope that's the right term.) What can we do to help you, Draco?"
Draco's expression had softened. Hermione's parents had acknowledged that she was his girlfriend! He wasn't prepared for this much acceptance. That's probably why he'd been playing the "lovable rascal" card so relentlessly. Now he was off-balance. Her parents would have him in tears if they weren't careful.
Hermione said, "Maybe we should go upstairs now." Hermione took Draco to her room for a few minutes of privacy. As soon as the door was closed, she put her arms around him, but he did not respond.
"Draco, wake up!"
He sighed and pulled her in closer. "Why are they being so nice to me, Hermione? It doesn't make sense. They shouldn't be doing this. I smell a rat."
Hermione rolled her eyes, pulled away from his embrace, and picked a folded sheet of parchment off the table. "Read this."
From the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger—
I recommend Hogwarts student Draco Malfoy to you and most earnestly request that you give him every assistance.
Yours most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Draco read it through twice and asked, "What do you think it means?"
She said, "My parents see two messages. First, welcome you with open arms." She put her arms around him by way of illustration. "Second, something bad will happen soon and you need friends. That's the 'every assistance' part. Third, maybe, it's time for you to learn to pass as a Muggle."
After a moment Draco said, "That seems right. Hermione, is Dumbledore setting me against my father?"
"Nobody thinks you're a pawn to be sacrificed, Draco. Not me, not your father, not Dumbledore. Especially not during the opening moves. You're endgame material. Everyone knows it." Just last week she had played in a life-or-death game of wizard chess, so this was more than a metaphor to her. But what she said felt right.
It must have felt right to Draco, too, for he relaxed with a sigh, the tension leaving his body. He pulled her in closer and whispered, "That helped. I love you, Hermione."
She gasped. "You said it!" She began to cry.
He murmured, "Shh, everything's all right. Sometimes it's not hard to say." In the same tone he continued, "So go ahead and get yourself all red-eyed and tear-stained for your parents and then everything will be perfect."
She smiled through her tears. "You really are the worst, Draco. I love you, too." She dried her tears. Then, taking his hand, they rejoined her parents, where they planned out the rest of the day.
Hermione brandished some lists that she and her parents had drawn up the previous evening, but didn't she didn't want him to read them. "We want to surprise you," she said.
They started with their list of a complete Muggle wardrobe, including caps and sunglasses to make him less identifiable and a student backpack and a gym bag to pack it all into.
Hermione expected Draco to remain on his best behavior (for him). This illusion was soon shattered in the boy's section of the department store. Hermione was almost desperate to select his clothing for him. She hadn't grasped that he wanted to look the same age as her. This wasn't easy: Hermione was almost a year older and Draco was small for his age. She kept offering him items that would make him look like her cute little brother. Soon they were bickering in frustrated confusion. Fortunately, her parents were nowhere in sight.
When Hermione argued with Ron or Harry, the confrontation soon ended with one of them stomping off or lapsing into stubborn silence. With Draco, an argument could last forever. Hermione found herself close to tears. Finally she said, "Malfoy?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sad."
He looked startled, then said behind his hand, "You know, there's a tiny chance we're doing this wrong."
"I'm doing the best I can."
"Well, stop it! Pick out something hideous and I'll tell you why I love it."
They started laughing again almost at once. Draco picked out items he hated on the grounds that they'd made him look like Hermione's little brother—or sister—and she quickly understood. Soon they'd polished off most of the list. "What's left?" he asked.
She look at the list. "Underwear and pajamas," she said, looking at him nervously.
"Lead on."
The startling lack of variety in the boy's underwear and pajamas made these selections less contentious (and less interesting) than she expected.
He made a couple of jokes about selecting "negligibles" for her, but made no move towards the girl's section. She whispered to him that she needed to do so soon, since her proportions had altered in recent months. He surprised her by whispering back that puberty looked good on her. His eyes smiled as he said it, and his eyes didn't know how to lie. It left her feeling odd, but in a good way.
They found Hermione's parents and they all left the store in high spirits.
A stationery store provided Draco with supplies, including ballpoint and rollerball pens and stationery suitable for the Owl post/Royal Mail system. Hermione loved office supplies and would have bought him more than he could carry if she hadn't been restrained by her parents.
They returned to the hotel with their purchases. After lunch they pulled out yet another list and taught Draco to use a telephone, including pay phones. This involved a quick lesson in British currency. He was also told how to reverse the charges.
List number four involved a roundabout trip by bus and the London Underground to familiarize him with that part of the transportation system.
Before they knew it, it was time for Draco to go. Draco went to Hermione's room to pack his new possessions, and they held each other for a long time. Then she walked him to the gate. Someone might be watching, so they parted casually, as if it didn't hurt at all.
She walked back to the hotel alone. The sun was still up on this long summer day, but her parents would be ready for dinner.
She was surprised by how happy she was. She was certain something bad would happen soon; maybe to Draco, maybe to Hogwarts. But they would be ready, and they had the best friends in the world, including Professor Dumbledore himself. Nothing too disastrous could happen while he was at Hogwarts.
The next morning Hermione met Draco in the little park just as before. He had his backpack with him. When they were a couple of blocks from the gate, he pulled out a cap and sunglasses and put them on.
She asked, "Can you still spend the whole day with us?"
"Yes, but tomorrow we're going to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. Too bad. I was hoping for a third day with you."
"Me, too."
Once more the day went by far too quickly. Hermione and Draco learned how to use the mail drop in both directions and Draco was given a lesson in sending ordinary Muggle letters as well. Her parents supplied him with stamps and lists of addresses, plus a surprising amount of cash in all denominations.
Alone for a few minutes, Draco told her that he gave her parents high marks, but he wanted to keep them out of the line of fire. "If I ever go into hiding," he said, "it won't be at your house."
Hermione agreed at once. Her parents had many talents, but surviving a wizard's feud on their doorstep was not among them.
After lunch, they went to the British Museum. As Hermione had expected, Draco had never been there before and wanted to see everything at once. He plunged excitedly into one section after another, stopping here and there when he became fascinated by an exhibit, sometimes just for a moment but once for nearly an hour. They followed him tolerantly.
Then they had an early dinner, went back to the hotel, and suddenly it was time for Draco to leave. Hermione managed not to cry when they said good-bye in her room, then she walked him to the gate as before.
When Hermione returned to the hotel, her mother knocked on her door and Hermione let her in. Her mother hugged her and Hermione broke down and wept.
"I don't know why I'm crying," she sobbed. "I've never been so happy."
Her mother said, "He tries so hard to hide it, but he's a sad and lonely boy. And then his face lights up when he thinks of you. I'm glad you love him, Hermione. Someone has to. And not many people would be up to it."
"Aren't you afraid?" asked Hermione. "Terrible things happened at Hogwarts just last week!"
"Well, that's true. But what do you think would have happened if you hadn't received that letter and you had gone to an ordinary school?"
Hermione tried to remember. "Oh. I'd be at the top of my class but I'd be bored and miserable because the subjects were too easy. I'd have no friends at all. And my magic would be stronger. Dreadful things would happen around me more and more. None of us would know why."
"There's fear for you! Your father and I were never so relieved as when you got the invitation to Hogwarts. Suddenly it made a little sense; there was a way forward. And yes, there was real danger at Hogwarts. But, Hermione, did you have any dreams that haven't come true?"
"Oh! I hadn't noticed."
"You were busy."
Hermione's bedroom at home seemed familiar and strange at the same time. She put away the contents of her trunk and the new purchases from London, opened the window to let in some fresh air, then stretched out on the bed wondering what to do next. Before she could make up her mind, an owl delivered a letter.
To: Hermione Granger
From: Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
Date: June 17, 1992
Dear Granger,
And now the game begins.
Father was just notified that he's appointed to the governing board of Hogwarts. There are twelve governors, you know, and he's just one of the twelve. Father never accepts appointments to be just one of anything. He's the top man or he doesn't join. Not this time!
He told me that it's part of his plan. I asked, "What plan?" but he wouldn't tell me.
He said some nasty things about Dumbledore again, including the one about him being the worst headmaster in Hogwarts history. (I find this hard to believe. Didn't one of them spent his whole time as headmaster in a straitjacket?)
Does this mean that Father will be in and out of Hogwarts all year? I hope not. I don't remember seeing any visitors at Hogwarts, do you?
I detest you, Granger. I miss talking to you already. And I'm in low spirits: of course I am. I may just call you on the telephone. Remind me, do you have an answering machine? I'm not sure I understand what those are about. Don't laugh too hard if I try to leave a message.
Your one and only
Malfoy
P.S. Father asked what happened to Quirrell. I told him the rumors that were going around, which amounted to, "Harry Potter killed him, or maybe Dumbledore killed him when he was busy killing Harry Potter." I left your name, Weasley's, and Longbottom's out of it, though I don't suppose the three of you got all those points for nothing. I'm glad now that you haven't told me what really happened, since that made it easier for me to seem ignorant. It's probably safe to tell me now.
P.P.S. Father asked me if I knew anything about Weasley's little sister, who might be a first-year in September. Weasley has a little sister? But why would Father care?