A/N - Ohhhh my gosh, it's chapter 50. That's INSANE! This story totally got away from me, and I'm alright with that. This was originally a really really really long chapter, but I split it in two, because it got TOO long. I love writing Hermione and Draco together.
"Granger, you look ill."
"Uhhh... I sort of feel ill." The world was spinning, and her hands were dirty. "It's been a while since I've traveled like that."
"Maybe you need to sit down."
She looked down at her clothes; they were covered in soot. "Yeah, I think Mum will have my hide if I ruin her couch."
"That was a pretty graceless tumble." Malfoy sucked on his bottom lip to keep from laughing.
So much for someone catching her if she fell.
"Whatever," she muttered. "Mum? Dad?" There was no response. Her brow furrowed. "Mum? Dad?" She wandered into the kitchen; it was empty. "Guess they've decided to run errands," she said, walking back to where she'd left Draco. "Unless they left for some reason, but I would think they'd call me if they went on holiday..."
"Do you have any way of getting in touch with them?" asked Draco.
Her eyes lit up. "Yes, as a matter of fact! Mum and Dad just got mobile phones for work. Hang on," she said, and she disappeared into the kitchen.
Draco took stock of his surroundings, unsure of what to do. The room didn't look particularly strange; he'd expected to see weird Muggle things strewn about the room. "Where's your television?" he asked Hermione when she'd appeared once more.
"I have a small one in my room," she said, "but Mum and Dad don't really watch telly." She watched him look around the house, and tried to see it through his eyes. It was smaller than Grimmauld Place, but newer. It had to be the first Muggle house he'd been in, she realized. "Do you want a tour?" she offered.
His face lit up and then a mask of controlled boredom appeared just as quickly. "Yeah, I guess."
She rolled her eyes. He was so transparent. "Well I don't want to twist your arm," she said sarcastically. He shrugged, sheepish. "Whatever. This is the living room." He nodded. "So. Yeah. Um, you've obviously seen the fireplace, and there's books, and... that's about it." She suddenly felt nervous being in her house alone with him. Ron had never visited her parents' house, and she realized this was the first boy she'd ever brought home. And he was a Slytherin. She gave an involuntary shudder. Well, too late to turn back now.
"Um, we can go upstairs, if you'd like?" He shrugged again.
"Oookay," she muttered, but he followed her up the stairs. She stopped at the first door on the right. "This is my room." He walked past her into the bedroom and slowly made his way around the small space, his hand lightly touching upon her bookshelf, her school trunk, and several framed photographs of her family.
"I'm sure you're used to larger quarters," she ventured.
"Been at Grimmauld for a while now; got used to it," he muttered. She watched him studying her pictures. "When was this taken?" he asked, picking up one of the frames.
She moved closer to him and inspected the picture. "That was over the summer holiday, after second year. Mum and Dad took me to France."
"You look happy," Draco said.
"I was."
Her eyes followed him as he moved about the room, kneeling down to read the spines of her books. She shifted from one foot to the other and stopped herself when she realized she'd been biting her nails. "You can borrow a book, if you want." He didn't look up, just kept running a finger across the titles, occasionally pulling out a book to flip through. "Well, I should probably find something to change into, I suppose." She looked down at her filthy clothes. Draco didn't seem to register a thing she said. She made her way to her dresser and sort through the drawers; something to change into, and a few things to bring back to Grimmauld. When she'd picked out several outfits, she saw that he was now seated on her bedroom floor, flipping through what looked to be her Intro to Humanities textbook. "Uh, make yourself at home," she said, "I'll go change in the bathroom." He nodded, but kept his eyes on the book.
Once in the bathroom, she changed into a different pair of denims and a hooded sweatshirt. She caught her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Did she really look that dowdy in this pull-over? Not that it mattered... She rifled through the rest of her tops and settled on a teal blouse her mother had picked out for her during a recent shopping trip. Helen had told her that it brought out the gold in her eyes and hair, and it was surprisingly comfortable, for something not made of cotton. She slipped the piece of silk over her head and cinched the tie at her waist. She ran her fingers through her hair (which thankfully had not taken the brunt of the soot) and reached into a nearby drawer for a bit of lipgloss. It wasn't anything obvious or showy; Astoria would ask what the point was, really, if she were there to see it. Nevermind, it was something. She wondered why she even bothered, but then slicked the light pink color onto her lips and studied her reflection. Better.
She stood at the door to her room and watched Malfoy, who was still absorbed in her school book. "Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the rest of the house. "Yeah, just a minute," he muttered, not looking up. "You can bring that with you, if you'd like." He held a finger to his place in the book and glanced up at her, his eyes widening as he took in her altered appearance. "Uh, no, I'm good," he said, and dropped the book to the side. "Lead on."
They wandered downstairs and through the living room. "And in here is the kitchen." He followed her into the next room and stopped. "Oh wow, you've got a microwiz too! It's bigger than ours," he said, frowning.
"It's a microwave, Malfoy. How many times do people have to correct you?"
"I prefer microwiz," he said defensively. "It sounds better. And anyway, it's sort of Muggle magic, isn't it? Electricity, I mean."
"It's not magic. There are waves of..."
He scoffed. "I do know some things, Granger. Still, it's like their own brand of magic. And sometimes it's nice to just be amazed at something instead of having to know exactly how it works."
"But that's silly," she said, "Isn't it better to actually know? I mean, it's logical. There's a reason it works. There are natural laws in place that can be understood."
He shook his head. "'When I heard the learn'd astronomer.'"
"Excuse me?"
"Whitman. It's one of his poems. I read it in one of your books back at Grimmauld. 'When I heard the learn'd astronomer; when the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; when I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; when I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, how soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; till rising and gliding out, I wander'd off by myself, in the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.'"
Hermione stared at him in silence.
Seriously?
"What?" he asked self-consciously.
"Nothing," she said quickly. Then, "It's just that you quoted Walt Whitman. By heart."
"I told you I read your books."
"But you memorized it."
"I had a lot of time. And I like that poem a lot. Actually, I like Muggle poetry in general. Much better than the rubbish they made us read at Hogwarts. Seriously, who writes poetry about trolls?"
"You like poetry." She couldn't wrap her head around it. She thought she had him almost figured out and then he threw something ridiculous like this at her.
"It's not that big of a deal. I mean, there were a lot of men who wrote poetry. Shakespeare, Whitman, Eliot, Neruda. It's not like it's weird to enjoy reading it."
"No, it's not," she agreed. "But it's weird that you like it."
"Gods, how shocking! The Death Eater like Muggle books!"
"That's not what I meant at all! It's just... ugh! Nevermind."
"They're interesting, Muggles," he said, his voice calmer. "I can read the books and watch the television shows, but it's still alien to me. With everything I've read, I could have a degree in theoretical Muggle studies. But it's not like I have any hands-on experience or anything."
She smirked. "So you're looking for hands-on experience, then?" she said, her voiced laced with suggestion. "How very progressive of you."
"Stop right there, Granger." He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"What's wrong, Draco?" She moved closer to him. "I thought you were a fan of the innuendo?" She felt a thrill of power as she carefully watched his expression change from uneasy to something more intense. His silver-gray eyes turned dark and he clenched his jaw. Ah, so she could affect him, then. All those times he'd set her off balance with his knowing looks and pointed words... this felt a lot like revenge.
"You know, I grew up as a Muggle. I know an awful lot about them." She stepped closer to him, not yet touching. He moved backwards until he bumped up against the sink. "In fact, I've lived like one for the past couple years. Some would say I'm very experienced, indeed."
"I'm serious Granger. Stop before things get nasty." He looked trapped, his eyes turning wild as he gripped the countertop behind him. His knuckles turned an even paler shade of white. She felt a thrill run up her spine.
She leaned towards him and whispered in his ear, "Promises, promises."
He let out a low, guttural growl and suddenly everything felt a bit too real. She casually removed herself from his personal space and batted her eyelashes, trying her best to look like the picture of innocence. "Not as fun when you're on the other end, now is it?"
A subtle blushed crept up his cheeks. Okay, so maybe he deserved that. He'd been goading her for days and days, and she'd thought she'd try her hand at it. That's all it was. "Message received," he hissed.
She stuck out her hand and he reached to shake it.
"No more teasing?" she asked. He nodded.
"And no more suggestive looks?" He shrugged. He couldn't promise that. Some things just happened naturally.
She sighed. "Fine. So sex is off the table?"
His jaw clenched again and she could have sworn she saw his Adam's apple bob. He looked her straight in the eyes and then she saw the almost imperceptible glance behind her. She followed his gaze to where it fell on the kitchen table and felt her arms covered with gooseflesh. She shivered. He took a step towards her.
"Hermione!" She heard the front door open and she sprang away from him, busying herself with a piece of mail that had been left on the counter. Helen Granger bounded into the room and stopped when she saw they had a guest.
Hermione just realized she had forgotten to mention Malfoy's presence when she had talked to her parents.
"Hello," Helen said and reached out her hand. "Helen Granger."
Draco took it and smiled stiffly. "Yes, Mrs. Granger, we met a few weeks back. Draco Malfoy."
A wary look of recognition crossed her face, and then a smile covered it. "Of course! I am so sorry Draco, it's very nice to see you again, and under better circumstances, I hope?" She looked at Hermione, her eyes questioning.
"I'm fine, Mum, I just missed you." Hermione pulled her mother into a tight embrace. "Sorry to just drop by like this, I should have called first."
Helen stroked Hermione's hair and then pulled back to look at her daughter. "Nonsense, Bookworm. This is your house, you come and go as you please, understand? Your father and I are always happy to see you." She sneaked a glance at Draco, and Hermione could see the concern in her eyes.
"I wanted to come home, and Draco volunteered to accompany me, because of my condition. He's been very helpful, actually."
Helen smiled, a bit confused, but relieved to see her daughter safe and sound. "Well it's lovely to have company. Draco, can I get you something to drink?"
"Oh, I'm fine Mrs. Granger. Please don't worry about me." Draco shifted his weight from one foot to another, not knowing what to say. It was obvious once more that the Grangers had heard his name before, and not in a great connotation.
"Where's Dad?" asked Hermione.
"Oh, just getting some things out of the car. He decided we needed a new grill this summer, can you believe that?"
"Uh, yes, I can," Hermione laughed. "That old grill was ancient! Half the meat was still frozen while the other half burned."
Helen sighed. "Well, with what we paid for this one, it better cook evenly. It's got all these gadgets on it, I don't know. I barely paid attention, he was so excited it made me a little nauseated. I haven't seen him that giddy since we got the new lawnmower."
"Ohhh, he wouldn't shut up about that stupid thing!" said Hermione.
"I know." The two women shared a conspiratorial look.
"Uh, do you think he needs help?" asked Draco casually. "With the grill-thing? I mean, I assume grills are heavy. Metal, and all." He was trying to appear aloof, Hermione could tell, but she had seen the glint in his eye. It was the same look he had when he's seen their top-of-the-line microwave.
"That'd be lovely, thank you, Draco," Helen answered.
He quickly walked out the front door and Hermione burst into laughter. "This is the first Muggle house he's ever been in; I think he's a little excited."
Helen raised an eyebrow. "He's something. What exactly did I walk in on, by the way?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "How do you mean?"
"Good try, Bookworm. Is there something going on between the two of you?"
She felt the warmth paint her face, but she shook her head. "Don't be silly."
"Mmmhmm. So this Draco, he's been helping you, then?"
Hermione nodded. "Astoria's at school during the day, and Harry and Ron are at work, so Malfoy's been the one to do almost all of therapy."
"You didn't really mention that when we've talked on the phone." Helen raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't I? Hmm. Well. Yeah, he's been helping me. I haven't had any breakthrough magic, so apparently it has been working. No panic attacks either."
"I'm so glad to hear that, sweetheart. I was really worried about you; both your father and I were, in fact."
"I know, Mum. But I'm okay." Hermione reached in the cabinet for a glass and rifled through the refrigerator, settling on mango nectar. She poured a large glassful and drank deeply. "Mmmm, I've missed this."
"Yeah, it's amazing how long a gallon can last when you're out of the house," Helen teased.
"You missed me. Go on and admit it."
"That I did, Bookworm. Now. What's the plan for the day? Do you think you could stay for dinner? Draco's invited, of course."
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I thought we could pick up some Chinese. Malfoy sort of needs to keep an eye on me because of the whole magic thing, so he'll stick around."
"Do you need me to get him? If he needs to watch you..." Helen was already half-way out the door by the time Hermione called after her, "No, Mum, I'm fine."
"Are you positive?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you seriously think he's babysitting me night and day? It's not like we have to sleep in the same room or anything."
"Good to know." Helen quirked an eyebrow, and Hermione groaned. "Hey, I'm just saying he's a good-looking young man. And he's obviously changed if you can stand to be in his presence for more than a minute. I remember you coming home from school and crying about how mean he was to you."
"He's... better. He's changed a lot; more than I give him credit for, I think." She thought about it for a long minute. "I mean, he's still sort of a git, but he's not so bad. There are worse people I could be forced to spend my time around."
"Ahh, Granger, you flatter me." Draco walked back into the room, followed by Patrick Granger, who swooped Hermione up into his arms. He twirled her around as if she was a little girl and set her down with a "Ufff!"
"Draco here has been telling me that you've become quite the accomplished slug bug, laying around all day in your pajamas."
"I'm not exactly sure that's what I said, Mr. Granger." Draco looked worried.
"Ah, I'm just kidding around." Patrick slapped Draco's shoulder and grinned at Helen. Hermione had never brought a boy home, and even if this one was just a friend, well, it sure felt good to torture him.
"Alright, Draco, what's the verdict?" asked Patrick with a smile.
"Oh my gods, I don't think I'll ever eat again," Draco said.
"That good?" Hermione grinned.
"Absolutely delicious. Thank you so much Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger. I feel like I could sleep for a week."
"Ahh, the food coma," Hermione teased. "Happens to the least glutenous of us, especially when Chinese food is involved. A mocha will help that."
"Ah yes, tummy ache plus caffeine, always a winning combination," noted Helen wryly.
"So this mocha thing, it's just chocolate and coffee? Because that doesn't sound all that special. I mean, we have both of those at home. Grimmauld, I mean." Merlin, it was bad enough that he thought of Grimmauld Place as home, but he'd just insinuated that it was Hermione's home too. And in front of her parents, no less.
"It's chocolate and coffee with a ridiculous price tag. Don't believe the hype, Draco," Patrick warned.
"It's so much more than that," said Hermione. "Especially a white chocolate mocha. It's heaven. Add a bit of Irish Cream syrup and it's the best dessert you can eat in a car. Less messy than a banana split, at least."
"A banana what?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Ohhh, there are so many Muggle things to show you! But first, I want to stop by the bookstore. Do you mind if we make a detour?" She looked at her watch. "I know it's getting late, but I'd really like to see my friends. We'll pick up the coffee on the way; I won't be long, I promise."
She looked so damn cute; she was giving her best puppy dog eyes, and he knew she was trying to manipulate him. It was working. And he honestly didn't care. "Yeah, let's go for it. We can Apparate from there."
"How did you two get here, by the way?" asked Helen. "Did you take public trans?"
Hermione shook her head. "Floo network; the house is still connected."
"You used magic? Oh honey, I'm so proud of you!"
"Come on, Mum, it's not a big deal. It was just once. I don't think I'll make a habit of it. I just wanted to see you both."
Helen beamed. "Well I'm still going to count it as a step in the right direction. You can't hide your magic forever, Bookworm. It's a part of you. You need it, and it needs you."
"Says you and everyone else. I'm not too bothered by it." She did her best to sound flippant; truth was, she'd been wondering if everyone was right. She felt loads better today than she had yesterday. Maybe her magic wasn't all that evil after all. "Anyway, we should run; the store closes in a little over an hour and a half." She stood up and walked around the kitchen table to give her parents a goodbye kiss. "I love you, and I'll try to be home soon."
"You come home when you're good and ready, love," Patrick said, "and not a minute before, understand?"
"I will, Dad."
Patrick Granger stood up and shook Draco's hand, then pulled him in and clapped his back. "It's good to see you again, Draco. Thanks for the help this afternoon with the grill. You'll have to come over sometime and see it in action; we'll grill steak like manly men." He grunted and Hermione shook her head.
"It was lovely to talk to you, Draco." Helen placed a kiss on his cheek, and Hermione swore she saw the Slytherin's face redden.
"You too, Mrs. Granger."
They headed out the front door and Hermione heard her father call out, "So long, and thanks for all the fish!" She laughed and ignored Malfoy's confused look.
The more I get into Draco and Hermione's burgeoning relationship, the faster I write (and the faster I update). I don't think any of you mind... do you? :-)
