"Draco, dear, how many times must I tell you not to do that?" Narcissa chastised, picking up her small cup of tea from the tray on the coffee table and taking a small polite sip.
Draco, who had just finished at least half of his bottle of Firewhiskey in one large gulp and placed the bottle less-than-gently back on the small table beside him, simply grunted in response and rubbed his throat as an slightly-uncomfortable burn made its way down it. Hermione was watching him, a slight expression of shock on her face – she'd never seen him like this before, nor had she seen someone drink so much Firewhiskey at once without yelling about the pain – as she took a sip of the glass of water in her hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but Draco cut her off.
"Don't say a bloody word, Granger," he warned in a low voice.
"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Watch your language!"
"It's alright, Narcissa," Hermione said, sending her a smile before looking back to Draco with a disapproving expression. "Something the matter, Malfoy?" she asked, her tone implying that there most definitely shouldn't be, and that he shouldn't say anything.
"Yes," he replied, his voice sounding dangerously close to that of a stubborn child.
"Well, please, do enlighten us, dear," Narcissa said, sounding as if that was the last thing she wanted him to do. She set down her teacup and stared at him expectantly.
"She's yet to apologise for her little… defensive retaliation," Draco said, nodding at Hermione.
Narcissa sent Draco a scowl, folding her hands tightly in her lap as if to stop her reaching over and strangling him. "Honestly, Draco, is that all?"
Hermione tried hard to hide a smile and turned to him. "Well, if that is what's troubling you, Draco,then I'm very sorry for my outburst. I was mistaken."
Draco smirked – he was well aware that she wasn't in the least bit sorry, much like he expected – but he said nothing about it for the rest of the evening.
"So has she changed her mind about the paper?" Hermione asked, eyeing Draco warily.
"I'm sorry dear; she won't change anything now that it's printed. She says she doesn't have that kind of authority, and 'after all, a story is a story'. There's nothing I can do."
Hermione groaned and gracelessly slouched back into the couch. "I should have left her as a bug… I never should have let her out of that bloody jar."
Draco sniggered, taking another sip of his Firewhiskey. He recalled in their fourth year when Hermione had shown her friends, Ron and Harry, Rita Skeeter contained in a small glass jar as a beetle; she was an unregistered Animagus and had been sneaking around the castle during the Triwizard tournament collecting information from him and his Slytherin associates about Hagrid, the castle's gamekeeper, and Harry Potter, the youngest competitor of four in the tournament.
"Yes, well, I'm afraid we'll just have to wait until they find something else to entertain them," Narcissa began, beginning to feel uncomfortable at the mention of her friend as a beetle. "Maybe they'll find something interesting at the Ministry to take their minds off the three of you… or perhaps at the school."
"You know nothing's happened since they rebuilt the place, Mother… or at least nothing that the reporters have caught word of. I'm surprised that Skeeter has been relatively quiet lately, actually; she must be working on something big with all those meetings she's been having." Draco piped up, setting down his now-empty bottle. He conjured a second and was half done by the time Narcissa finished speaking, much to her disappointment.
"Well it's none of our business anyhow," said Narcissa, sending Draco a withering glare. She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Rita is welcome to do what she wants in her spare time; if she finds a story worth printing in her paper, she will-"
"Make sure to ruin as many people's lives in the process, or else create rumours and scandals people will want to hear more about. That blasted woman was a Slytherin if I ever saw one," he growled, his voice beginning to slur slightly as he rubbed his burning throat.
"Wasn't she in Ravenclaw?" Hermione questioned.
"I was told she was a Gryffindor," Narcissa replied.
"My house could never house such a- a-"
"-slimy, worthless, no good bitch?" Draco offered, grinning lopsidedly.
"Language, Draco! Honestly, this is not how I raised you," his mother admonished.
"No, this is how the-"
"Draco! I'll not have you speak back to me like that."
"I'm not twelve, Mother."
"Well you're acting like it. No," Narcissa raised a hand, pushing herself gracefully to her feet, stopping Draco from arguing. "I've had enough. You've had too much to drink. I'm going down to the kitchens… I'll be having dinner in my own room tonight. I trust you can show Hermione to her room." She turned to face Hermione then and changed her expression from a scowl to a charming smile. Hermione wondered slightly if this was a talent all Slytherin's had. "Hermione, dear, I'm sorry to cut our chat short, but I'm going to head out now. Please, do excuse Draco, he's… been less-than-charming lately. I'll see you tomorrow – maybe for lunch in the gardens?"
Hermione nodded, returning her smile. "I'd love that."
"I shall see you then, then," and with one last reproachful glare at her son, Narcissa left the parlour. Hermione waited until the sounds of her clicking heels faded before she looked over at Draco. He had opened his own mouth to speak, but she interrupted quickly.
"Honestly, you're despicable," she said, standing up. "Treating your own mother like that in front of a guest." She crossed her arms with a huff and glared at him.
"I'd hardly called you a guest, Granger. You're more like a… bushy-haired squatter."
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Oh, right, you're a bushy-haired, know-it-all squatter. That's right."
Hermione simply groaned.
"What, there's more?" Draco looked astonished. He set down his bottle of Firewhiskey and gestured towards her, as if to say 'Please, continue.'
"You invited me here, you Tosspot! You said, as I recall, 'Come live with me' and you were quite enthusiastic about it too."
"Was not…" he mumbled.
"Ugh, you're positively…" Hermione's face scrunched up as she attempted to think of a worthwhile insult, but she was unable to think of something good enough, so she settled on "… ghastly."
"Ah, well, that's an improvement, I suppose, from a foul, loathsome slap in the face," Draco snarled, suddenly on his feet. Hermione took a step back as he stepped towards her.
Hermione, taken aback, stopped. "You remember that?"
"Hard to forget being slapped in the face, Granger; you always remember your first time, don't you?"
"I was the first person to-" Her eyes widened and she smirked. "I should have hit you harder; made it more memorable, so to speak."
"Oh, it was memorable already. No slap compared, honest," Draco said, his voiced heavily laced with sarcasm. "Not even Pansy slaps as good as you do, and she's done it for years."
Hermione rolled her eyes, clenching her fists as an urge to slap him again filled her. Stupid bouncing ferret prat… I can't believe I'm going to live with him!
Draco shook his head. "If you're wondering, I'm not drunk."
Hermione stared. "Wha-?"
"Wanted to get my mother out of the room before she started showing you my bloody baby pictures," he shrugged. "I'd need about seven bottles of Ogden's Finest before I even got tipsy; I've got so much of that hangover potion in me right now it'll keep me close to sober for days. Taking it every day does that."
"You're a dick, Malfoy. Honestly, you could have just asked her to leave."
"Me? Ask my mother to leave while there was another woman in the room? I don't think so Granger. She's known me long enough to know that I have less-than-noble intentions when that happens. And," he cut her off as she opened her mouth. "No, it doesn't matter that it's you in the room with me, my mother has been led to believe that nothing matters to me when it comes to things like that, not even past encounters with the women I meet. I'm sure you heard of my rather flattering title back in school?"
Hermione made a face – once again shocked as he guessed her train of thought – and nodded. It was a well-spread rumour, started by none other than Pansy Parkinson, that Draco Malfoy was the one and only Slytherin Sex God. The rumour went so far as to say he had himself a basilisk in his Chamber of Secrets. She shuddered at the thought, but a slow blush crept up her cheeks as her mind wandered. Draco smirked.
"Well, I hate to disappoint, Granger, but I don't have any intention to revisit my school activities tonight, so… I'm going to go to dinner." Without another word, Draco made his way to the door that his mother had exited from just before.
Hermione nodded distractedly. Dinner… with Harry and Ginny and Fred and George… I don't know if I should go by myself… and Lissy isn't much of a companion anyway. I wonder if I- "Will you come to dinner with me?" she blurted, turning to face him, a new blush forming on her face. Hermione had no idea why she'd just asked him. It's because he's the only person who doesn't hate- no… he's just the only person who's talking to you at the moment.
Draco, who had just reached the door, slowly removed his hand from the doorknob and turned to face her. "I was under the impression you were already coming to dinner with me, what with you living in my house and all."
"N-no, I mean, Harry invited me over for dinner tonight with Ginny and her brothers and-"
"You don't want to go alone because you haven't seen them for years, and Lissy isn't much of a dinner companion because she's a toddler?"
Oh my god… How the hell did he do that? "I- Look, never mind, I'll just take Lissy. She'll be a good enough distraction. Forget I even asked."
Draco shrugged. "If you say so, Granger... you can go find Lissy and I'll change the wards so you can come and go as you please. Your room will be up the stairs just outside this door-" he gestured to the one behind him. "-to the left and the… third door on the right; there's a bathroom and everything in there, so you've got nothing to worry about on that front and… my room is the one across the hall, if you need anything… or you can just call out for a house elf. I'll let them know you're a temporary family member so they actually listen to you. They already listen to Lissy so..."
Hermione nodded and Draco turned back to the door again, but just before he walked out, Hermione took a step forward and called out to him, reaching up slowly to take the flower from behind her ear.
"Malfoy?" she asked, twirling the rose gently as she stared at it.
He turned back to look at her, but she didn't meet his gaze. "Yes, Granger?" he asked.
"Thanks… for- for looking after Lissy and-and letting me stay here. I- Thanks." Hermione couldn't seem to put it into words how much she wanted to thank him. He hadn't mocked her for crying, nor laughed at her misfortune, and she was grateful for that.
"Right…" he nodded once and turned around again.
"Oh, and Draco?" she called out once more.
This time, he didn't turn back. Just let me fucking leave! "Yes?"
"Thanks for the rose."
He nodded one last time and left the room, sighing as he closed the door behind him.
Hermione stared after him, and when the door closed, she looked around the empty room. "Uh… Ziggy?" she called quietly. "Ziggy can I talk to you for a moment?"
After a second, the house elf she'd seen out the front of the manor appeared, still wearing the wig and the glasses, and looked up at her. "Miss is a friend of Master Draco's, yes?"
Hermione nodded. "How can Ziggy be of service to Miss?"
"Uh… Ziggy, I-I was wondering if you could show me where Lissy is."
"Young Mistress? Oh! Young Mistress is in Master Draco's room. Shall Ziggy fetch Young Mistress for Miss?"
"Y-Yes, please. Could you take her to our room? It's the… one across the hall from Draco's. I'll be there soon."
"Ziggy will meet Miss with Young Mistress in Miss's room, Miss!" and with that, the house-elf disappeared, and Hermione made her way up to her room, ignoring the strange looks the portraits gave her on the way there. One of them, however – a portrait of a young blonde-haired girl with bright blue eyes that was just outside the door to her new room – smiled at her, and just as she opened the door, she whispered words that stuck in Hermione's mind for a long time, even if she didn't understand them for a while.
"He always was a rebellious boy."
A/n: WELL. I like that portrait. Draco is an itty bit of a rude boy once again... and he LIKES FIREWHISKEY. Anyway... quick update, cause I loves y'all...
OPINIONATAYS, PLAYSE.
R&R&L my loves.
Oh, and to answer some reviews...
Roosa: That'll be revealed later on, I promise. I SWEAR IT ON MERLIN'S MAGIC.
CGinny: That'll also be revealed later on... I promise. But I swear on Dumbledore's grave that Lissy's father is neither Ron (thank MERLIN), nor Draco (sadly).
KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun: I definitely, most completely, agree. They have SO. MUCH. CHEMISTRY. IT'S BRILLIANT. But I'm glad you think so, because it's a credit to my writing that I'm able to portray that... Thankyou for the indirect compliment, my dear!
lol. Hope that helps, lovies!
~Originalitys