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Chapter 3 –
Hermione Granger was having fun. She was having fun with Draco Malfoy. Would wonders never cease?
Here they were, at Ron and Pansy's reception, and she was enjoying herself. She thought it would be pure torture to be here, but instead, it was enjoyable.
As they stepped around the large back garden, she would steal glances his way. He was walking with his hands behind his back. Her hands were in front of her body. They certainly were a study of contrast.
She looked at him once more and he inquired, "Do I have something on my nose?"
She stopped walking and looked at his nose intently. "I don't see anything, why?"
"You keep looking at me," he said.
"Sorry," she said, taking a deep breath, she resumed her walk.
He caught up to her and said, "Tell me what you were thinking."
"We are just so different, and I think it's strange that I'm having a nice time here with you," she admitted.
"We aren't that different," he said, pointing out. "We're both people. We both have heads. We both need air to breathe."
She knitted her brows together and said, "We both have heads? Is that really something you would say we have in common? Heads?"
"We do both have heads," he said with a laugh.
"Fine, I'll give you that one," she said.
They stopped by a large tree and she leaned against the trunk. "I was thinking more along the lines like, I'm a Muggle-born, you're a pureblood, and how much we hated each other in school. You know, things like that."
"Oh," he said, standing in front of her, "I understand. It's like, you're good, I'm evil, you're smart, I'm dumb, you're poor, I'm rich. That sort of thing."
She looked at him for a moment with a funny smile on her face. "I'm not poor," was all she said, unable to debunk his other statements. Hermione laughed and he joined in. He leaned one arm on the large trunk, right next to her head.
"But the other things are true, right?" he said, dangerously close.
"You might not be evil. I don't know you well enough to judge," she said.
He leaned even closer, winked at her, and said, "I'm evil as the day is long." He pushed off the tree and started walking once again. She stayed by the tree for a moment longer, and then ran to catch up to him.
"Why aren't you married, Malfoy?" she suddenly laughed.
He turned to look at her inquisitive face and said, "Are you proposing?"
"Not today," she smiled. After waiting for his answer, and realizing none was forthcoming, she asked another question. "Didn't you date Pansy for a while?"
"Just in school," he confirmed. They were slowly heading back toward the crowd. He said, "The line for food is shorter now, we could probably venture back."
"I am starving. I didn't eat breakfast this morning, because I was so nauseated," she said.
"The thought of the happy couple on their wedding night make you want to vomit, Granger?" he asked.
"That must have been it," she joked. She stopped walking and bent down to pick up a wildflower. He turned to watch her. "This is pretty." It was a simple statement. She walked up to him and put the flower in his buttonhole, to make him a boutonniere.
He looked down at the small purple flower. He said, "Is it as pretty as me?"
"Almost," she said, grinning. She went to remove the flower and he grabbed her wrist. She removed her wrist from his hand so fast that it shocked him.
"Leave it, I like it," he said. He was suddenly embarrassed, and he wasn't sure why. He looked at the ground as they walked back to the buffet table. She took a plate, and then handed him one.
After filling their plates, they found a different table in which to sit. It was a quiet, small table, near the back. He said, "Shall I get us some wine, or perhaps champagne?"
"No, food is enough for me right now, thanks," she said.
He felt awkward around her for the first time this afternoon, and he was not sure why. He thought it had something to do with how quickly she removed her wrist from his hand. He didn't intend to offend her. Was he too rough? Why did she act as if she was upset that he touched her?
He suddenly wasn't very hungry. He pushed his plate back and said, "I just don't get it."
She looked up from her plate and said, "What don't you get?"
"You and Weasel," he said.
"What do you mean? There is no more me and Weasel," she said.
"But there once was. Why, Granger? Good heavens, why?" He shook his head in disbelief. She could not help but laugh again.
"Temporary insanity?" she asked.
"I hope so," he said. He asked, "When did you stop dating?"
"When I found out he was dating Pansy," she said.
What? Juicy gossip and Malfoy was not privy to it. "Explain, please!" he said.
"We dated five years, he never once gave me a ring, and just when I was about ready to give up on him and the relationship, you know, move on or move out, he told me he found another woman. He said he was in love with another, and that he was sorry. That was nine months ago. No big deal, really," she said, although he thought she looked like it was a big deal.
"Did you two live together?" he asked.
"No," she said.
"Then you must have known about year two or three that it wasn't going to work. Five years? Really, Granger, and I thought you were smart," he joked. He was hungry again. He started eating. Now she wasn't hungry. She pushed her plate aside, and rested her head in her hand.
"Malfoy, do you think there's something wrong with me?" she abruptly asked.
"Probably," he said, stealing her piece of roast beef.
"That's what I thought," she said. She excused herself and headed into the house. What did he say? She asked a question, and he was trying to be honest. He finished eating, certain that she would return outside any moment. After ten minutes, he went inside to look for her.
He had never been in the Weasley's house before. He was afraid to touch anything. He looked downstairs for her. He saw a few people, but no Granger. He walked upstairs and knocked on a door he assumed was the bathroom.
She opened the door.
"May I join you?" he joked.
She pulled him inside. He was not expecting that.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes, just looking at something," she said. She went back up to the mirror. She looked at her reflection. He came up and stood behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. His breath was on her neck.
He asked, "And at what are we looking?"
"I was trying to see what was wrong with me," she answered.
Was that her problem? "I didn't mean there was anything wrong with you physically when I answered your question. You are actually quite good looking, in a Muggle-born sort of way." Her reflection gave his a nasty glare, until he smiled, to show he was joking.
"What did you mean, then?" she asked.
"Just that you are mourning over something that never would have worked out anyway and you stuck it out all those years with him, even though you must have known it would lead nowhere. That's what's wrong with you. You're afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid of failure, and afraid of what other people think," he deduced.
She turned and looked at his face. He looked down at her. He was quite tall, she suddenly realized.
"Is that what you really think?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered.
She turned back around toward the mirror again, and looked at her own face. "That's what I think, as well," she admitted.
Hermione turned back around. He was only centimeters from her. They were even touching. In fact, his hand came up to the sleeve of her dress, pulled at it slightly, rolled the fabric between his thumb and index finger, before he rested his hand on her shoulder. He put his other hand on her other shoulder and for the briefest of moments, she thought he was going to kiss her, and that wouldn't be so bad. Instead, he turned her back toward the mirror.
"Do you want to know what I really see, Granger?" he asked. She looked at his eyes in the mirror. "I see a smart woman who has finally wised up. You won't make the same mistake again."
"I hope so, Malfoy," she said. She looked down at the sink.
He stepped away from her and said, "Now get out. I might as well use the facilities while I'm in here."
"Go on, I don't care," she said with a lopsided grin. He stepped up to the commode and started to unzip and she squealed, "I was joking!" She ran out of the room and waited by the bathroom door. She could hear him laughing from inside.
When he came out, she said, "Did you wash your hands? I didn't hear the water running."
"Are you my mum?" he cracked, adding, "And yes, I washed my hands."
She grinned again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He sat down on the floor in the hallway. She walked up to him and sat down beside him. He pushed his shoulder into hers and said, "So, what game can we play now?"
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