CHAPTER 10
September 1st 2001
Hermione Granger was careful not to step on any cracks as she walked along the London city pavement. The childhood phrase, warning her she could break her mother's back if she did, still echoed in her subconscious. Sun rays beamed down on the Autumn day, reminding the people of England that Summer was leaving them sooner than they'd like. The curly haired witch wore a short sleeved blue dress to embrace the final days that she could.
Saying goodbye to her parents after a light lunch, Hermione window shopped in hope to find a gown for her upcoming birthday and engagement celebration. She didn't typically participate in big events, but the Daily Prophet had suggested that a combined party would be great publicity for the Ministry. Giving people a sight into the lives of the wizarding world heroes seemed to be the only thing that gave them trust in the government that wronged them.
Ron didn't care for the politics of it all, he just enjoyed the world doting on him and feeling like he didn't grow up as the outcast of his family. Hermione understood why he took pleasure in all the attention, but it was not a life she ever dreamt for herself.
Giving up on her original mission, she decided that she would shop with her future sister in law, Ginny, tomorrow. But as she was exiting the final boutique, a girl with brown hair and a pointy nose caught her eye walking down the street. Pansy Parkinson. Normally she would have run for it at the sight of someone you used to tease her constantly, but curiosity dragged her feet over to the former schoolmate.
"Pansy." Hermione greeted, a polite smile pasted on as she stopped in front of her.
"Hello Granger." Pansy returned, "I should have expected to run into you within the muggle world."
Of course she did. What else could Hermione be associated with other than the fact she came from muggles.
"It is strange to see a familiar face in these streets. I would never pick you to shop outside of Diagon Alley." The Gryffindor commented, curious as to why she was here.
"Admittedly, the muggle word does have its perks. Fashion being one of them."
"Congratulations on your engagement by the way, it is lovely to see you and Theodore together."
"Thank you, and also to you with the Weasel." The Slytherin smirked.
"Yes, I hear from Malfoy that I should avoid stepping on your toes in regards to any planning of our respective weddings. Be sure to owl me with your blueprints so I can avoid such a catastrophe." She teased in return.
"That is quite alright, Granger. I doubt your taste has half the class or style of my own."
"Touche."
The two would have made fine friends if they were not divided by houses. Hermione thought back to the days that Pansy would set the ends of her hair on fire in the middle of class, embarrassing her in front of all the other girls. Funny how times change.
Taking advantage of running into the woman, Hermione decided to ask her for a favour.
"I think I may need your help on something, Pansy." She baited.
"Merlin, I never thought I'd see the day that Hermione Granger asks somebody else for help. Is it advice on how to dump your fiance? I would gladly assist in bringing that red-head to his demise."
Hermione scoffed at the accusation.
"I seemed to have missed Malfoy's birthday in June while he was with his father. Do you have a sense of what type of gift he would appreciate?"
"Don't tell me you're having an affair with that prat, Granger."
"Oh no, no. But I have a compulsive need to be the best at everything, and what kind of superior work acquaintance would I be if I didn't get him a present for his birthday?"
Pansy chuckled, and Hermione thought it was the only time she's ever seen the witch laugh with her and not at her.
"Draco is an avid vinyl collector. The obsession started when he was a teenager, that is a direction you could head in." The Slytherin informed her.
"I never would have picked him to be a music lover." The Gyffindor replied.
"I have a feeling there is a lot you don't know about Draco."
Her former bully had a point. As much as Hermione thought she knew Malfoy, she actually didn't know him at all. He really was a prat of a friend.
"Working with him is exhausting. How you dated that man I will never know."
"We never dated, Granger." Pansy corrected.
"Oh, I just assumed. You were always so affectionate to one another in school."
"Draco and I have an understanding that we will only ever be able to tolerate one another in the bedroom. Outside of that, I do not care to pick up his broken pieces."
Hermione furrowed her brow. Was Pansy implying that they were still sleeping with each other? Even though she was engaged?
"I can see your brain trying to analyse what I just said," the Slytherin groaned, "I don't need your saint-like lecture."
"So you are sleeping with him." Hermione accused.
Pansy didn't deny her claim, but reapplying lipstick and ignoring her spoke a thousand words.
"I must go, Granger. This little catch up has been… unreasonably long."
"Alright, well, thank you for the gift idea."
"Goodluck with your wedding, Granger. Don't mess it up." Pany called as she walked away down the street.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Shaking her head and heading around a corner or two, Hermione arrived at the only music store she was most familiar with. This was the record shop that her Dad used to take her to as a child, they would spend hours looking for tapes and vinyls of the classics together.
Stepping through the front door, nostalgia hit Hermione like a broom to the back of the head. The dimly lit room smelt of saw dust and vanilla; like her childhood. The elder man behind the counter had a salt and pepper coloured beard that ran down to his chest, and hair that matched tied in a ponytail. He smiled at her kindly.
Hermione ran her fingers along the thick paperback of records filed by genre and alphabetical order. She missed the simplicity of the muggle world, it was so peaceful walking into a store without being stared at. Being a war hero has some lows in spite of the highs. Soft rock music played in the background as she flicked through different artists. None seemed to be calling out to her.
It wasn't until she got the Jazz genre that she had some luck. Thinking back to the Sunday mornings before Hermione knew she was a witch, she and her father would dance in the living room together to blues music. He would pick her up and let her stand on his toes, as they swayed to the rhythm of the song together. Pulling out a Ray Charles record, she decided that this would be the type of music she would like to introduce to Malfoy. A little Soul could do him some good.
Walking out of the store with her gift in hand, Hermione pulled out the thank you note she had stashed in her hand bag. On the back had Malfoy's address written on it. The lane was only a few streets away, so she decided to push her luck and pay him a visit. What harm could that bring?
Turning around the corner of Vipera Lane, Hermione scanned the building units to find his number. Of course he lived on a street named after a snake. Bloody conceited twit. He wasn't far down on the strip, so she swung the gate open and knocked on the black door firmly.
"Who is it?" She heard him call from inside,
"The woman you loath most in this world!" Hermione called back.
Hearing his heavy footsteps come down the stairs, and the lock chains being loosen, Malfoy slowly peered through the gap between the door and the frame. His silver eyes were piercing in the sunlight. Hermione pursued her lips and grinned, she liked being invasive in his personal life. It made him feel inferior.
Pulling the door wide open, Malfoy frowned at her presence. His fringe hung across his eyes from lack of product. He wore black dress pants and a white shirt tucked into the belt. She was not used to seeing him in such casual clothes. Although, one would not typically categorise that as casual attire.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He said, taken back.
"You really shouldn't have given me your address." She laughed.
"I am beginning to regret it."
Malfoy stuck his head out of the entrance to see if there was anyone else hiding at her side. Satisfied with her coming alone, he stepped aside to let her walk in.
Inside the floor tiles were black and white like a chess board, and the walls were painted emerald green. Gold framed paintings hung along the hallway walls that lead into the kitchen. It felt like royals lived here.
"This is not how I envisioned your home to look, Malfoy. It does not feel broody enough here for you to sleep well at night." She joked,
"You're probably just not used to a home with style and class. Not enough gnomes running around in the garden perhaps?" He snickered, closing the front door.
"Pansy Parkinson said something very similar to me today. Anyone would think the two of you are friends."
"You ran into Pansy Parkinson today?"
"I did, if you put the kettle on I can debrief you on the encounter."
Malfoy stepped past her and walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Hermione decided to take the time to look at the paintings that were scattered around the entryway. They were all beautifully painted landscapes, mostly of rivers and hills, but a rather largely framed canvas of the Hogwarts castle hung at the centre of the wall. It was just how she remembered it to be, breathtakingly captivating.
"Where did you get these pictures on the wall?" Hermione called out.
"I painted them. It used to be a hobby of mine." He hollered back.
"Of bloody course." She mumbled under her breath.
Malfoy leant on the door frame of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. He looked rather attractive in this setting. His arms bulged at the tighter fight shirt, and he looked more relaxed with no product in his hair. No wonder Pansy was sleeping with him, Hermione observed.
Merlin, what the hell was she thinking?
"The Hogwarts one is my favourite." She complimented.
"Me too." He agreed, "Come into the living room, the tea is almost ready."
Looking into the kitchen, Hermione was not surprised by the tidiness, but she was shocked at the sight of a fridge in the corner. Living without a house elf would probably cause one to invest in such an item, she thought. That was why she had one.
Continuing into the lounged area, the black and white tiles followed through as well. Two sets of leather couches sat in the centre of the room facing one another in front of a large emptied floor space. It reminded Hermione of a disco. On one side of the room was a large bookcase filled with novels top to bottom, and on the other was a second set of shelves stacked with his vinyl collection and record player. The atmosphere of the house was very pleasing to the eye.
Taking a seat on one of the leather couches, she put her handbag down near her feet. Malfoy walked in with a levitating tray of tea not a minute later.
"I am worried to ask why you are here, Granger. This won't mean you're planning on dropping in unannounced on a regular basis correct?" He said, dropping the last few words to a grumble.
"Do not flatter yourself. This is a one time visit." She replied confidently.
Malfoy took a seat on the leather couch opposite to her. The tray levitated over to her so she could grab her cup and put it on the table beside her. He mirrored the actions.
"So tell me what happened with Pansy…" He drew.
"Well… we actually bumped into each other outside of a boutique." She started, "We exchanged congratulations and that was pretty much it."
"That was it? No cat fight? Nothing?" He asked, almost disappointed in their harmony.
"That was it. Although she did inform me of some gossip that I'm sure you'd want to know about."
"Do not keep a man waiting, Granger."
"She is having an affair… with you."
Malfoy choked on the tea in his mouth, and began having a coughing fit. Hermione had a sinister smile that spread across her cheeks. Pansy hadn't confirmed her accusation, but he just did.
"She told you that?" He asked through coughs,
"Not entirely, but you just proved my theory correct."
Malfoy ran hand through his hair as he regained breathing control. She wondered if this would test his promise to start sharing more of his personal life with her.
"It is not what you think it is." He insisted.
"So you're not in love with an engaged woman?" She teased.
Malfoy froze in his seat with a face that lay flat as he looked at her from across the room. The air suddenly fell thick. He looked like his deepest secret had just been exposed. Hermione started to panic over her joke, thinking she hit a sensitive spot. Was he in love with Pansy Parkinson?
Draco Malfoy sat on his living room couch, heart beating a million miles an hour. He felt on edge having his work friend sitting across from him in his own home. Having her show up unannounced mixed with a question he had never even asked himself made him feel vulnerable and unmasked. He saw panic welling in her eyes after he had failed to answer.
"I-uh-I didn't-I'm sorry if I-" She stuttered.
"I'm not in love with Pansy." He interrupted firmly.
He knew that much was true. Pansy Parkinson was far from the love of his life. Taking a brick down from his wall, Draco decided to tell the truth for once.
"I have been sleeping with Parkinson since sixth grade. Sometimes it is frequent, and sometimes we go a year without one another."
"Why did you keep seeing one another even though she is with Theo?" Hermione interrogated.
"The times that I have dated, I have not gone to see Pansy. I feel no tether or pull towards her, but when I have been by myself she is handy to have around to feel less alone."
Granger pouted her lips and nodded like she understood. The golden girl had probably never felt loneliness in her life, she had two puppies following her around since the day she stepped into Hogwarts.
"Theodore Nott got into a pretty horrific accident at work a couple of years ago. Parkinson and he were dating for over a year at this point, she was quite traumatised sitting next to his bed at St Mungos for months at a time. I do not know the entire story, but he was left without a lot of function in his lower body. Pansy loves Theo, she just gets lonely too."
It felt odd confiding in someone of his secrets, but Draco liked that Granger was a good listener.
"I did not know that Theo had been in such a terrible accident." She spoke, as soft as a spring wind.
"His family paid a fair amount of money to keep it out of the papers." Draco explained.
"I see. Do you think you will continue this when they marry?"
"I don't know."
"Do you want to keep sleeping with her when she is married?"
"No."
The witch and wizard stared at each other from across the room. Brick by brick she began to see a side of him that he had not shown to anyone before. It was daunting for them both. Deep down they both understood one another more than they put out, but refused to admit.
A knock at the front door startled them both. Draco looked over to the front window paranoid.
"Did you invite someone over?" Granger asked, worrisome.
"You are the only one who knows my address." He replied just as confused.
"Could it not be Parkinson?"
"She only has access to my floo."
Standing slowly from his seat, Draco drew his wand close to his face. Granger shadowed as he walked out of the living room, through the kitchen and entered the hallway. Pressing a finger to his mouth to keep her from talking, he called out to the guest.
"Who is it?" He tried to sound casual but ended up bellowing the question.
"Mail service!" The knocker yelled in return.
Draco relaxed his shoulders and looked back at Granger, only she had not loosened up.
"Malfoy." She whispered, "There is no post on Saturdays."
Before he could process what she was saying the front door exploded out of its frame. Three wizards wearing all black robes stepped past the threshold and immediately began shooting curses in their direction.
Draco used his left arm to tuck Granger behind his body and the other to cast blocking spells. The hitmen were not holding back. Their curses rebounded off his shield and hit the roof, pieces of debris started raining down from above.
"Get back! Go!" He yelled at Granger, behind him.
She retreated from his shadow and ran into the lounge area. Draco tried to hold the men back as much as he could but the dust of the walls were blinding his sight. Withdrawing from the stand off, Draco followed Granger into the living room. He would have a better advantage there.
As he turned on the men he felt burning heat spread across his back. They were throwing fireballs and one had hit him square in the backbone. The sensation made his skin scream, and he heard himself let out a physical roar stumbling into the next room.
Granger stood on one of the leather couches, using a higher standing point as an upperhand. He followed suit and did the same. The three hitmen rushed in behind him, stunned at the image they saw before them.
Draco and Granger threw defensive spells their way, one of the men hitting the floor immediately at the barrel of the witch's weapon. Blood dripped down the his back as he fought.
The battle was now one on one for either side of the room. Both men had vengeance in their eyes. Without knowing why, Draco saw out of the corner of his eye that the man on Granger's side collapsed at the foot of the couch. His head smacked the floor and knocked him out cold.
He jumped off the couch and charged for the last standing man. Pushing full force into the hitman's torso, he fell hard. Draco crawled up to meet his face, and punched him square in the jaw. Granger took the foot of her low heel and pressed it into the intruder's neck. He gagged on the pressure.
"Why are you here?!" Draco screamed.
"Mud-mudblood, in-in-in Drac-Draco's house. Mu-must k-k-kill both." The purple faced man choked out.
Taking her foot off his throat, Granger bent down in her dress and put her wand to the hitman's temple, putting him to sleep.
"I'm going to remove their memories of me being here." She informed him.
"Okay." Draco growled.
Walking over to the other men in the room he cast an 'Obliviate' over their minds. He then picked each body up at a time and threw them over his shoulder, dumping them in the fireplace. Repeating the action with Granger's intruder. The blistered skin on his back was excruciatingly painful. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, Draco thrusted the grain onto the pile of bodies and yelled, "Knockturn Alley".
Green flames wrapped around the men and sent them on their way to the darkened backstreet. Draco sighed, turning back to face Granger. She stood near the couches with her arms crossed against her chest. How she fought so quickly, and in a dress, he would never understand how.
"Are they sent by who I think sent them?" She grumbled.
"Lucius."