---------------------------------------------HAPPENINGS DURING THE NIGHT--------------------------------------------
Hermione grabbed a fistful of Floo powder in her hand and threw it into Professor McGonagall's fireplace. Green heatless flames rose from the powder and Hermione walked straight into it. She turned around so that she was facing the wide office. Her small bag was next to her, and she had Crookshanks cradled in her other arm. She looked at Malfoy who was standing stiffly upright, his bag by his feet. He looked calmly at her, and she noticed that there was something different about him. She couldn't figure out what it was though...
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, cueing Hermione's departure. "Thirteen Lea Bridge Road!" she yelled hoarsely, keeping her elbows tucked into her sides. She held her breath instinctively, and watched as Malfoy and Professor McGonagall disappeared before her eyes. The last thing she saw was the professor pouring Floo powder into Malfoy's hand.
Seconds later, she toppled out of the fireplace, hitting the carpet. When she got up, brushing the soot from her clothes, she discovered that the room was full of other people. Hermione felt her eyes widen. This was not what she had been expecting. They were staring at her and her luggage, then at the fireplace, wondering where on earth she had come from.
A haggard-looking man emerged from the crowd and walked slowly forward. "Her-Hermione," the man said. He looked around him quickly, and then back at Hermione. His face was streaked with tears but he managed to say, "I see you found your luggage on the roof. Don't know how it got there myself." Hermione remained silent, not even hearing what her father was saying. She could only focus on how old and haggard he looked. He turned to the man closest to him. "My daughter likes to use the chimney instead of the ladder..."
Crookshanks leaped out of Hermione's arms, and hurried outside. Hermione left her luggage and walked across the room to her father. She gathered the man in her arms and held his frail body close to her. He wept silently, and Hermione could feel his tears dribble down her neck. His tears evoked the grief in her that she had tried to bury since the morning. Her tears soon flowed, and she cried silently with him.
The bystanders muttered amongst themselves quietly. Hermione could hear whispers of "...shame..." and "...poor girl..." and "...only child...". She ignored them.
Not even a minute later she heard a sound behind her. She didn't want to turn around, but when a few of the people around her gasped, she let go of her father and turned around.
How was it possible that Malfoy had not fallen onto the carpet like she had? She glanced quickly around her, and then said quietly to her father, but loud enough for others to hear, "Dad, this is Draco Malfoy. He helped me to retrieve my luggage from the roof." She knew her father had not heard her; he was too lost in his own grief. She turned to Malfoy and said, "Thank you so much, Mal-Draco, for retrieving the rest of my luggage."
Draco had a half-confused look in his eyes, but he didn't say anything. He nodded once, trying to smile politely. The smiling part didn't work out too well. Hermione held out her hand to take the bag – his bag – from him, and Malfoy hesitantly held it out to her.
"If you would like to stay for some tea and biscuits, please do so," she told him fake-politely.
He nodded again, his eyes narrowing in confusion, and turned and left the room.
Muttering amongst the people erupted again, and Hermione turned back to her father. "Dad, I'll have to explain later, okay?" she whispered in an undertone, looking deep into his swollen eyes. Were her eyes as red as his? He nodded weakly, and she placed an arm around his shoulders and led him out the room. She took him to what used to be her parents' bedroom, and when she opened the door, she started to cry. The memories that rushed forth drowned her, but she battled to come back up to the surface.
After she had placed her puppet-like father on the bed and tucked him in – despite it only being midday – she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing deeply. She hadn't realized that there'd be this many memories. Things she had long forgotten now chose to resurface.
She went back downstairs, and informed the visitors that her father was not feeling well, and had retired to bed. The visitors took their leave at this, and Hermione was grateful for the silence. She sat on one of the couches, pulling her legs up against her, with her chin resting on her knees.
She had forgotten all about Malfoy until he entered the room again. She looked up, briefly startled, and then resumed her former position. He sat on the couch next to her.
"What was all that about before?" he asked, looking at her.
She could feel his intense gaze on her, but didn't look at him. She knew he was referring to her treatment of him when he had come out of her fireplace. "I had to," she said simply.
"I gathered that," Malfoy said, a tinge of impatience in his voice. "But why did you do that?"
"How would it have looked like to a bunch of Muggles, Malfoy, if two teenagers randomly toppled out of the fireplace with luggage strapped to their sides?" Hermione asked sensibly, staring at the floor.
"I didn't topple out of the fireplace, though," Malfoy said unnecessarily.
Hermione felt her lips twitch but she couldn't completely smile.
It was late evening now. He hadn't seen Mr Granger yet – properly, that is. The man hadn't come out of his room once since Granger had taken him up that day.
Draco was pacing up and down the guest room, deliberating. Should he, or shouldn't he? The whole day, he hadn't really needed his bag – it only had his clothes in it. But now that he needed to shower, and therefore change, he did need it.
He opened his door and walked across a hallway. He came to her door and knocked twice on it. He heard footsteps, and the door opened. Draco had to blink twice. The girl was clad in just a ... a nightdress. It was deep red in colour, and not exactly long. Draco blinked again, trying to regain his composure.
He was a man after all, and that red ... what with her red lips that she so kindly pointed out, and her black shiny hair ... it just threw him off a little. Her eyes were swollen, but their redness had disappeared.
That colour red was coming up a lot.
"Granger, what are you wearing?" he asked quietly, unable to stop himself. He had no shame in his words. He really wanted to know the answer.
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Malfoy?" she asked, looking down at herself.
Draco tried to look casual. He leaned against her doorframe, and crossed his arms. "Because what you're wearing, it's ... Do you usually where items like this?"
The girl's eyes – were they usually that brown? – widened. Because her hair was pulled up into a high pony, Draco could see her ears and how red they were turning. Was she embarrassed? "I wear this kind of clothing on a nightly basis, Malfoy," she said, obviously trying to remain calm.
Draco merely nodded, wondering why he had never noticed it before.
Granger stood there, waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, she arched an eyebrow. "Well, what did you want?"
"I need my bag," Draco said. He pushed the door open, and not waiting for her to say yes or no, waltzed straight into her room. He was expecting bright pink walls, and fluffy cushions, but was greeted by a different sight. The room bordered on a maroon and cream colour theme. It looked very ... mature.
"Have you never heard of the term 'invasion of privacy', Malfoy?" she grumbled, crossing her arms, facing his back.
"Nope," he said, looking around her room. She had framed pictures all over her cream-coloured walls. The pictures were mainly of Potter and the Weasel, but there were others as well that had the faces of other Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Draco felt a bit put out that there weren't any Slytherins, but after a moment or two he got over it. "Granger, none of these pictures move, yet they're all of wizards and witches," he commented.
He heard a sigh from behind him, and turned around. She pointed her wand at the frames and flicked it. When Draco turned back to look at the pictures, they were moving. "What did you do?" he asked softly, staring at one.
"Seeing that this is a Muggle house, there are likely to be Muggle visitors who might come into my room. I had to put a Freezing Charm on the photographs," she said quietly, also looking around at the many photographs. They spent a moment or two in silence, each analyzing her pictures.
Draco heard a sound coming from outside. He turned to look at Granger. "Did you hear that?" he asked.
"Hear what?" she asked, still walking around her room, looking at the pictures.
Draco heard the sound again. "There it is again!"
Granger turned around and looked at him.
Draco peeped through her curtains to look outside. He could see a tall hooded figure stooping about in the yard. "Granger," he whispered slowly, still looking outside. "Come here."
She did. She stood beside him and looked out of her window. "What are we looking at, Malfoy?" she asked, her voice sounding immensely tired.
Draco squinted. Where had the figure disappeared to? He couldn't see it anywhere. He ducked his head, as if that would improve his eyesight. Still nothing. "I could've sworn I saw something," he muttered.
Hermione sighed, and her warm breath misted the window. She stared at the spot until it disappeared. Malfoy was losing it. It was official. She had so much on her mind – she still hadn't properly felt the death of her mother yet, and now he was talking about hearing and seeing things? She shook her head, and turned to face him. Only thing was, they were not even a foot apart. In line of her vision was his chest, and Hermione had never realized that his chest was actually muscled. She raised her eyebrows in wonder, and raised her eyes to his face. Malfoy was still trying to look out of the window, for what, she didn't know.
His hair looked different though. What was different about it? He must have sensed her staring because he turned to look at her. When she saw his eyes, hope filled her. His eyes were now pure silver. What had happened in his life that had changed him for the better? she wondered. She realized that she was still staring at him, so she cleared her throat and in her mind she yelled, Accio Malfoy's bag!
His bag zoomed from the corner of her room, and knocked right into him. "Sorry about that," she murmured, still looking at him. He had bent down to catch his bag.
When he straightened, he asked bluntly, "Granger, why are you staring?"
Hermione blinked. "I was just wondering what happened to you to make you look better," she stated. Once the words were out, she realized how that must have sounded.
Something flashed in his eyes briefly, and he took a step backwards. And then another. "I'll be going then," he said quickly, and hurriedly left the room.
Hermione stared after him. She knew her words would have been misconstrued. Now he thought that she found him attractive.
Merlin help her.
Back in his room, Draco was breathing heavily. Once he had shut Granger's door behind him, he had hightailed it to his room. Then he had shut this door. He threw his bag to a corner of the room, and he sat down heavily on the bed.
He mentally backtracked.
The Granger girl thought that he looked better. This, from any other female would have been highly appreciated. But it just happened to be this female. So now more effects of the story were taking place. The girl was developing a little crush on him. He couldn't allow for that to happen. He just couldn't. He shuddered.
He grabbed the first thing he found in his bag, and hurried to the bathroom. Once he was showering, he let the hot water ease the tension away from his body. After about ten minutes of being under the pulsating water of the shower, he had seemed to calm down.
Who cared if the girl fell for him? What did it really mean to him? Before the War, he had many girls who pined after him, but he hadn't returned all of their affections. That would have been ridiculous. So let the girl have a crush on him. He wasn't obligated to return it – he wouldn't return it. She was bound to get over him soon, when she figured that she couldn't hold a bubble in her hands forever.
He smiled to himself. Yes, there was a solution to everything. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Once he'd finished towelling himself, he glanced at the mirror, and grinned.
A genuine grin he wasn't even aware of.
He looked good. He flexed his arm muscles, and twisted this way and that to analyze his stomach muscles. He shook his head in wonder and pulled up his boxers. He whistled a low tune and walked out of the bathroom.
Sighing, he plopped himself on the bed, and crossed his hands behind his head.
He heard a rustle outside, a sound alike to the ones he had heard in Granger's room. He pointed his wand at the light switch on the wall, and it flicked to the off position. His room was thrust into darkness, and he quickly jumped up. He raced to his window, and slowly pulled the curtain to the side.
The person – he was assuming it was a person – had come back and was now walking hurriedly across the Granger's yard to one of the windows of the house. Draco cocked his head, and he squinted. He wished he could call Granger to witness what he was seeing, but he was afraid that by the time he did that, the person would be gone.
It was a good thing he could see well in poor lighting. If not, he wouldn't have seen what happened next.
The person took out a stick from his pocket and waved it about in the air. Two seconds later, a plate appeared on his outstretched hand.
Draco gasped. The person was a wizard! What was a wizard doing in a Muggle area? More importantly, what was a wizard doing at the Granger residence?
The person reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. Draco narrowed his eyes to see better. The packet appeared to be filled with biscuits! Biscuits? The person emptied the packet of biscuits onto the plate. Once he finished doing that, he waved his wand, and the plate with the biscuits disappeared. Where had it disappeared to?
The trees in the yard shook violently as a strong breeze swept through the garden. The person's hood blew off his head, and Draco suppressed another gasp. It was a woman! She looked around her quickly, bringing the hood back up to cover her hair. Her eyes rested on Draco's window, and he ducked out of sight. Had she seen him?
Draco counted to ten, and slowly peeked out of the window. He ducked again. She was still there! She must have seen him then.
He didn't dare to look again. He crawled to his door quickly. He reached up for the handle and twisted it. The door opened, and he crawled out. He glanced both left and right down the dark hallway, and reached behind him to close the door. He stood up, still glancing left and right, and took out his wand. Lumos, he thought, and the hallway was filled with wandlight.
He rushed to Granger's room, acting on instinct, and without bothering to knock, he opened it and shut it immediately.
He glanced around her room. The girl was fast asleep, and thankfully, her duvet was covering her whole body. He couldn't afford to be distracted. He tiptoed around her room, holding his wand up high. He glanced at her table, which was surprisingly neat.
But what he was looking for wasn't there.
His brow furrowed. Where could it be then? His mind was spinning as thoughts swirled around. He had a theory. It was far-fetched, but so far, most of his theories had been correct.
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Gah!" he gasped, whirling around. His heart was beating loudly, but he held his wand up high, a curse on his lips. When he saw who it was, he sighed, but his heart was still beating wildly. "Oh, thank Merlin. I thought you were someone else," he said in a whisper.
"Malfoy! What are you doing in here?" she whisper-screamed. Aided by his wand's light, he could see how her eyes were flashing angrily.
"Calm down, Granger," he said quietly. He looked at her intently, "I think you need to hear this."
"Hear what?" she bit out crossly, folding her arms over her chest.
Draco tried to focus on her eyes alone, but he couldn't help looking her up and down. He couldn't help it. Bloody fairytale. He waved his wand, and a white gown appeared out of thin air. He caught it, and thrust it at her. "Wear this," he commanded in a low whisper.
Granger looked at the garment in confusion. "Why?"
"Because it's cold, and my story is long. Wear it," he repeated. She obliged, although reluctantly. Once she tied the waistband, Draco mentally breathed a sigh of relief. The gown fully covered her arms and legs.
"I feel hot though, Malfoy."
"You're going to get cold. Trust me," he assured her.
"Then why aren't you wearing anything?" she whispered, looking down at him. He noticed her gaze lingering a bit longer on some parts. He had totally forgotten that he was clad in just boxers.
He shrugged. "I'm a man. We don't feel the cold easily," he said convincingly.
She shrugged. She walked to her bed and sat on it. "Fine. Now tell me."
Draco rubbed his hands together, and sat on the bed a good few inches away from her. No need to give her ideas.
Once he got comfortable, he let his story rush out in a whisper. Her eyes widened at some parts. Towards the end of his 'story' it looked as though she wanted to interrupt him. He flashed her a look of irritation, but that didn't deter her.
"Did you just say 'biscuits'?" she asked in a whisper. Her eyes were wide.
Draco nodded impatiently. "Yes, but please don't interrupt me." He continued, and then she butted in again.
"Did you just say that the plate with biscuits disappeared?" she asked, shocked.
Draco took in a deep breath. "Are you deaf? Did you not hear me just saying that?" he asked, irritation thick in his voice.
The girl nodded, either unaffected by his irritation or completely oblivious to it. "I know. I just cannot believe it." She paused. "Where did it disappear to?"
"I don't know now, do I?" Draco said through his teeth. "As I was saying, I think she saw me."
Granger let out a yelp. Draco shh-ed her. "Shut it! What if your father hears you?"
She ignored his words. "But Malfoy, what if she's evil or something? She saw you!" she yelled in a whisper.
He gritted his teeth. "I said 'I think she saw me'. It's not definite."
She buried her head in her hands, and Draco saw her hair cascade around her. It looked so soft and silky. Another theory of his. He didn't feel like proving it though. Just to be safe, he edged a bit farther from her.
"So why did you come here?" she asked through her hands.
"I think that she's up to something," he said quietly. "I thought that that plate of biscuits had disappeared to here. I think that those biscuits are poisoned."
His statement hung in the air. She didn't respond for a while, and then she said, "What?"
"Shh! You heard what I said," he said. He was looking out of the window.
"And why do you think that?" she said, lowering her tone.
"A theory," he stated shortly. He hoped she could tell he didn't want to let on.
After a few moments she sighed. "So did you find anything?"
"No."
She sighed again. "So now what?" she asked.
Draco looked over at her. How had she come so close to him? Hadn't he moved away from her? He edged sideways away from her. "I first thought that the biscuits were intended for you – don't ask why," he added, when he saw her open her mouth to question him. "But now, I think they're for your father."
"My father," she stated, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded.
"And you aren't going to tell me why you think that, are you?" she asked.
She caught on quickly, he thought. That makes things easier. "No," he said simply, looking at her.
She nodded, her head turning away from him. Her lips twitched as she thought of something.
"Let me go check then," she said getting up.
Draco reached out and grabbed her hand. It was an instinctive reaction. Her eyes widened and she looked down at his hand on her wrist. He let go immediately, and stood up. "You can't go," he said quietly.
She cocked her head. "And why not? Oh wait," she said before he could say anything. "Is this another one of your theories?"
"Yes, it is actually," he said.
"Good to know," she said, nodding. She walked to her door and opened it.
"Where are you going!" he whisper-yelled.
She ignored him and walked out. He shook his head in annoyance, and rushed after her.
She looked at him beside her. "Why are you coming?"
"Because between the two of us, I'm the only one with the wand," he whispered, hoping that that would convince her. He wouldn't ever tell her that there was a possibility that the stranger could be lying in wait for them.
It wasn't that he wanted to protect her. She didn't need protection, he knew that. It was just an instinctive reaction that he couldn't explain.
She nodded, and carried on walking. When they both arrived at her parents' door, they noticed light under the door. They looked at each other, and he mouthed, Stay here. He reached to turn the knob, but she touched his hand gently, and shook her head. His hand shrunk back from the contact, and she mistook his reaction for a go-ahead.
She turned the knob slowly, and Draco held up his wand, prepared. The door creaked open, and they stepped into the room. Neither was prepared for what they saw.
Draco saw an old-looking man sitting upright in his bed, reading by lamp-light and munching on some biscuits. Draco felt his insides go cold. He heard Granger gulp.
"Daddy?" she asked softly.
The man looked up from his book, and smiled. "Hermione, dear," he said warmly. His gaze turned on Draco and he asked, "And who is this young man?"
"He's from school, Daddy. Professor McGonagall asked him to escort me home," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She shot a glance out the un-curtained windows, and then glanced quickly at Draco. Draco nodded, and flicked his wand. The curtains drew themselves closed, and they could no longer see the window,
"Aha," Mr Granger said. Whether it was in response to what Granger had just told him or to what Draco had just said, Draco didn't know.
Granger stepped forward towards her father. Draco followed her movements with his eyes. He remained stationary. "Daddy, where did you get those biscuits from?" she asked. A linger of despair coloured her voice, and Draco looked at her sympathetically.
The man looked at his daughter, and smiled. "Why, when I woke up, I just found them lying on my pedestal. I thought you left them there, dear."
Granger shook her head mutely. Draco could tell she wanted to scream, wanted to say something, but she couldn't. "And why did you get up, Daddy?" Her voice still sounded so patient, but Draco could see she was battling for control.
Mr Granger shrugged. "Don't know, actually. Do you know what time it is?" He looked enquiringly at her.
"It's one in the morning, Daddy," Granger said, her patience slowly leaving her voice. Draco sensed that she was bordering on a scream.
Draco took the reins now. He stepped forward. "Mr Granger, do you feel any different after eating those biscuits?"
The man shook his head slowly, looking at Draco. "Should I? I feel lighter though. Almost... liberated."
"Liberated," Granger repeated.
"Yes, liberated," he replied, still looking at Draco.
"Hermione dear, is he your ... partner?"
Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, and suppressed a laugh. He looked away, and focused his attention on Granger's reaction. This ought to be interesting.
Her hair was covering her ears, so he couldn't tell if they were red or not, but he could bet they were. Her mouth dropped open, but she closed it quickly. "Partner in what, Daddy?" she asked, playing innocent.
Draco shook his head, a small smile on his lips. She knew perfectly well what her father was talking about.
"Are you two together?" her father asked, gazing at Granger.
"Of course not, Daddy, that would be ridiculous."
Draco felt something clench in his stomach. It was probably the way in which she said what she had just said. It was the tone, not the content of her words that caused him to react negatively. Just the tone. He shrugged it off.
"Because I wouldn't mind, you know," Granger's father said. "He looks like quite a charming young fellow," he said, appraising Draco.
Draco remained standing still, but he inclined his head. "Thank you, Sir, but I can assure you, Gran – I mean, Hermione and I are no more than colleagues."
"Pity," Mr Granger said, closing his book, munching on another biscuit. "It's about time you find someone else now, Hermione. After what that Weasley boy did to you..." Curiosity flickered in Draco, and he looked at Granger.
She was looking at her father, biting her lip. "Daddy, are you sure you're okay?" she asked. She knelt on the floor beside the bed.
He patted her head. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you. In fact, I've never felt better."
Granger's eyes widened. She stared at her father incredulously. "Sorry, could you please repeat that?"
Draco couldn't blame her. Even he felt a bit shocked. The man's wife had just died, for Merlin's sake.
"I said that I've never felt better." He picked up another biscuit, and bit into it. Draco stared at the biscuit thoughtfully.
Granger shook her head slowly. "But Daddy, Mum just ... she just died. How can you say that?"
He looked at her sadly. "I know, honey. And I need to move on now. I need to –"
Granger stood up quickly. "You need to WHAT?" she screeched, her hands flying up.
"It's time I move on," her father said simply.
"It's only been a day!" she yelled, stalking forward.
Draco felt another theory coming on. "Granger, come away—"
"Stay out of this, Malfoy!" she shouted at him. "Daddy, what are you saying?"
"Have you heard of the woman Gladys Winter?" her father asked by way of answering.
"No, I HAVEN'T!" Granger yelled.
"Well, I think I'm going to marry her," Granger's father said calmly.
"WHAT?"
It all made sense now. Draco was surprised Granger couldn't see it yet. He walked slowly towards her.
"These biscuits are quite tasty, you know. Do we have any more of them?" Mr Granger asked, staring at his empty plate.
"NO, WE DON'T!"
Draco held his breath, and gripped Granger's shoulders gently. He pulled her back slightly. "Granger, calm down," he whispered into her ear from behind her. "It's not him that's speaking."
"OF COURSE IT'S HIM THAT'S SPEAKING! LET GO OF ME!" she yelled, trying to break loose from his grip. He pulled her back a bit more. He found it quite difficult to control her by holding her shoulders, so he dropped his hands, and held her wrist, pulling her towards the door.
He ignored her screams. "Goodnight, Mr Granger," he called out. He shut the door behind him, and dragged Granger behind him to her room. Once he got there, he let go of her hand. He wiped his hand on his boxers.
The girl was sobbing. She sat down on her bed, weak.
He really did feel sorry for her.
"Granger, let me explain," he said softly.
--------------------------------------------------------to be continued--------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Longest chapter by far hope you guys liked it. It was kinda fun writing it. Thank you all so much for your reviews. Also, I'm sure you've noticed by now that I only update during the weekend. I really don't have time during the week. So I try to get a chapter every weekend. So, hope this one was worth the wait