A/N- I'm really sorry this took so long. I had some deadful writers block and was very busy
at school. I could've uploaded this sooner too though, but I wanted it to be longer. Yes,
this is huge compared to my others. So be warned.
Caution- Light GoF spoilers.
Where I Find You, Part Five
~A Jaded September~
Ron sat on his bed at the horrid hotel, the musty damp sheets bringing the
repulsive smell of mold to his senses.
And, ironically, he would rather be thinking about the fungus spreading into his lungs
than think about what he was thinking about now.
Hermione.
Why he was thinking about her now, he didn't know. He had told himself when they
left school that being an Auror was important. Too important to ignore his work for a beautiful
woman.
Mad-Eye Moody had proven that. He had been the best Auror in his day, and he didn't
have a so-called 'better-half.'
But, then again, Moody was pretty far down the road to Nutsville.
Ron flopped down onto the bed, making the moldy smell fill the air. He wrinkled his
nose at the foul odor.
This all led back to one person, he thought as bitterness and hate swelled up in his
heart. A permanent hate so strong Ron had even endangered possibly the person he loved
the most.
This was all Malfoy's fault.
*
She was pressing harder and harder down on his hand, but he could barely feel it
anymore.
He was looking into her eyes, so brown and large, he was captivated. He knew
what she wanted. The emotions swirling in the chocolate brown left no secrets. Unlike his
eyes, which had been trained and taught not to betray him. But sometimes, sometimes he just
wished that......
Malfoy suddenly realized how close they were. And the in-between space, was rapidly
becoming less and less far apart.
*
Hermione lifted up her other hand to his face, slowly guiding his face to hers.
She could feel he was hesitant, and could think of many reasons why, but wasn't sure his
exact reason.
But though he was hesitant, it wasn't enough to stop the kiss, as their lips nearly
touched....
Suddenly he looked down. She had been wrong.
"Oh, look," Draco breathed quietly, "hand's all fixed up..." He jerked back away from her.
"Yeah" Hermione agreed, looking at his hand, still held in hers. And, as Malfoy
shifted away, Hermione could've sworn she saw relief in his eyes, which surprised her, seeing
as Malfoy was known for his indifference.
"I think...that should be enough...for now" Malfoy said slowly, either staring at his
hand, or not daring to look Hermione in the eyes, perhaps even both. Hermione noticed a scar
grooved into his hand now, a long curved and jagged line that seemed to be deeper around the
middle. It was definitely from Hermione's badly aimed spell.
"Oh! Your hand!" Hermione gasped.
"No problem." Malfoy half-heatedly smiled at her, getting up to leave.
"So....I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah," but suddenly she stopped, not wanting to see him go yet, plus something
Annoyed at her just now.....
"Draco, you had called me Hermione, instead of 'Granger'...."
"And you just called me Draco" He turned and gave her a mischievous grin.
"So are we on a first name basis now?"
"If you want to be." Draco replied, as he turned to leave yet again.
"Draco wait!" Hermione called, getting up and rushing towards him.
"Yeah?" Draco said slowly, turning around towards her.
"Our offices are close to each other....Do you want to walk together?" She asked,
wondering why her heart was beating so fast. Amusement flickered in those silver-blue eyes
of his. "I mean, Peeves is probably around, looking for trouble, and I wouldn't want to run
into the Bloody Baron at this hour..."
"If it means that much to you, 'Professor'" he grinned stressing the word
'Professor,' probably to remind her that they weren't students anymore.
You're right, Draco, we aren't students anymore, you are no longer a Slytherin. I,
am no longer Gryffindor. The things we said and did, years ago, mean nothing.
She thought, as she walked out the door.
With Draco.
*
Harry stared for a moment, his eyes unfocused and not even seeing the whole room. Ron
was definitely going after Malfoy. Ron hated Malfoy. Malfoy hated Ron, which didn't help at
all. Harry had the sick feeling he would have to go find one of them. Or they could do some
serious harm. Malfoy had definite expertise in the Dark Arts, but Malfoy probably had never
become a Death Eater. And if he had, he had done an outstanding job covering it up. Harry's
job as a Auror had him deal with many once Slytherins. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson's older
brother Brayden, Marcus Flint, quite a few of the Bulstrode boys [Millicent's parents, who
were quite as repulsive as their offspring seemed to think large families were the way to
go. Harry thought this should be made illegal] Adrian Pucey, and many others. But, less than
half of them, were actual Death Eaters. Sort of like the Death Eaters of the Death Eaters,
Harry thought with a smile.
Quietly, he left the empty office, and walked to his own.
And Hermione? Did she have a part in this? Harry had written her letters for the first
few years after they had left Hogwarts, but they seemed to drift, their lives becoming completely
different.
But would Ron use her to get to Malfoy? No, Malfoy was smarter than that, right? He hated
Hermione, and wouldn't fall into a trap, would he? Or perhaps he wasn't as smart as he appeared
to be, and would end up screwing himself over? Or maybe he would pretend not to know, while
knowing and make a spiteful way to get back at Ron?
It was just as Harry started to get a dreadful headache, that he realized figuring out
the thinking patterns of Draco Malfoy were like squeezing water out of a stone.
*
Oh God.
What had she done? Correction, what had she almost done? Not that that helped at all. It
didn't make it any less wrong.
But still, the pull, the electricity of him....He was so intense. So unbelievable, and
magnetic, for the moment, all she could think of was him.
Stop. It was over. He didn't want to kiss her. Although, this sounded vaguely familiar.
"Allot has changed here..." He said softly. ' Good one,' he thought sourly.
"Well, it doesn't seem like it, when you've been here the whole time."
"You've been teaching since we left?" This wasn't really a question though.
"Oh? And you've been doing something better?"
"Hey, I wasn't even in England, except on holidays, of course..."
"Naturally, I'm sure your manor misses you...." she said, scathingly, without even
realizing it. "I mean.....I'm sorry....I didn't mean it!"
"Of course you didn't" He replied with a slight frosty edge.
His face, now set and stony, didn't remind her that much of Lucius. His eyes were still
that icy blue, but his eyelashes were very dark, but not thick or long in a effeminate way,
creating very contrasting look.
That's probably why he looks so intense, she thought.
His hands are in his pockets again, she grinned. His robes flowed around him, hiding
his true shape. Either that, or he had gained allot of weight, he was thinner than Harry and
Ron when they were little.
And his skin wasn't deathly pale anymore. He, more than likely, Hermione thought,
had taken a circulation potion. It was still pale, but held a hint of light brown. And his
hair was different too. He had cut it a bit shorter and it varied in colour from Medium-
Goldish Blonde to a Silver White color. His eyebrows, usually the only facial features he used
to display expression, were slightly furrowed.
His mouth was twisted in a careless smirk, as if he knew she was thinking about him.
His lips were regular for a man, but fuller than she had remembered. His jaw line was smooth,
blending neatly into his neck beneath and his temples above. His skin, giving not even a hint of
extra skin, was smooth and absorbing.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he said suddenly, jerking her from her thoughts. " I have never known
Hermione Granger to be so quiet. When we were in class, as students, you always had something
to say. Although it usually was just the answer to a question," he added thoughtfully. "So, tell
me, do you still remember the sixth sentence of the ninth paragraph on page three hundred
fourteen in Magical Theory?"
"By Adalbert Waffling?" Hermione asked.
"Sure," Draco shrugged. " I wasn't quite sure if it was even a book. I never really
paid that much attention...."
"Which added to my surprise in you becoming a teacher...." Hermione grinned.
"Who knows? Perhaps I'm just talented..."Hermione looked up at him, and smirked, decidedly
not rising to the bait. Then she frowned.
"I er, actually don't know the answer to your question..."
"Hmmmn, you continue to surprise me." He laughed. Hermione looked at him, confused.
"Yes, well people change..."she said, after a bit.
" And sometimes they don't"
Hermione remembered something she had read once.
"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."
Draco looked at her.
"The more things change, the more they are the same. Alphose Karr. Very nice."
"How'd you know that?"
Draco grinned.
"Let's just say, I have a very reliable source related to me."
"That's labeling society a bit though. People change all the time."
"Not really." Draco said, giving her his patented I-Know-Something-You-Don't-Know Smirk.
"What?" Hermione asked. Draco sighed.
"Well, people may seem to change, but they never really do. There may be a period
of time when they act differently, but they're either acting, or they want to be someone or
something that they aren't. Maybe, sometimes they're bored with their lives, and want some
variety. But deep down, who you are is who you are. So, in the end, they always go back to
who or what they were in the beginning. The problem is, of course, finding out where the
beginning is. Although, sometimes people really do change."
"Coming from anyone else, I'd think they were serious."
"Pardon?" Draco asked, taken aback.
"Oh, come on. Even that's a little deep, for you..."
"So, you're saying I'm not smart enough to have ideas?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow
lazily.
"That's not..." Hermione felt her cheeks go red.
"Excuse me if we don't all bow down to your greatness, Hermione Granger."
"But I..."
"You know, there are many ways to be intelligent, and many many more ways to show it."
Draco told her, grinning at her lack of cunning replies.
" What do you..."
" And, although as much fun it is to hear you splutter incoherently, but we are now
standing outside my office." He said, stopping and fully facing her.
" Draco...I....I'm sorry....I didn't mean you weren't intelligent....I...er" she stopped
as he bit his lip, apparently trying to suppress his laughter.
" What's so funny?"
" Doesn't it strike you as odd, that after all these years, being as civil as I am right
now, I can still make you turn bright red and lose your legendary brilliance?"
" You know, a simple, apology accepted would do just fine!" Hermione said indignantly.
" Ah, but apology not accepted. For they are a sad and unoriginal way to get one's self
out of a less than appealing situation."
" So what do you suggest I do?"
" Make up for it."
" What? Grovel on my hands and knees until you decide to enlighten me with more of
your stupid theories? You never apologize, ever?"
" Well I do. But if I'm not sorry I don't. I just make up for it."
" Like?"
Draco grinned. " Like I'm not sorry for not kissing you in that classroom but there,
but I will make it up to you..."
Hermione opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but she never got the words out, for she
found out a second later.
*
Neville walked slowly down the hall, laminating over his lack of love
and that, more than likely, Malfoy was going to taunt him for the full year.
Not that Snape was much better, of course. He had never let Neville forget how bad
he had been at Potions, and would tell the students as often as possible.
And Malfoy? He'd been at Hogwarts less than a week, and had already embarrassed Neville, twice.
You started it, both times, his conscience reasoned.
Oh, and what about all the times he started it. Am I just supposed to forget? Pretend?
Like Hermione?
She has a reason though.
Yeah, Ron.
Oh, gee, trouble in the land of the beautiful people. What is an ugly boy to
do?
He was surprised how scornful this voice sounded.
Come off it. Ignore it, even if you can't forget....
As he turned the corner, he met a sight he would definitely not soon forget.
*
His arm, seemed to have effortlessly found the delicate curve of her back, clutching
loosely at her flowing robes.
And her fingers, curling into his soft weightless hair, had reached up, almost
instinctively, when she had melted into him.
His lips were fire and ice, a dangerous combination of the two. Caressing and needy, they
moved over hers with an experienced skill. The kiss was deep and sent venomous tremors down
her spine.
It got more and more passionate, as Hermione eagerly kissed him back, until any
logical though either of them might have had was drowned away.
Then out of no where,
"Hermione....?!"
*
It was dark here.
Various paintings hidden and shown by the curious moonlight. Priceless reminders
of a comfortable life. Yet so uncomfortable, the way the floor had been scrubbed and
Shone to a high-nosed perfection. The way dust was a foreign word here sent shivers up her
spine. Moonlight glinted knowingly through the double windows, lighting the rich green walls.
The corridors were long and winding, but she had made a point to memorize them. No one
had been suspicious, of course, after all this was her home.
Home? She almost laughed bitterly at the thought. This wasn't her home. It never was.
This was just a filthy big mansion, where she was wedded to a man she hated. Her father
had just shipped her off. You'll like it there, he's a good man, and all that rubbish. And then?
Not even a backward glance.
But she knew where home was, she smiled in a horrifyingly serene way. It was with him.
The only one she's ever loved. Although she hadn't seen him in five years, she knew in what we'll
pretend is a heart, that he would welcome her back with open arms.
If she could think straight, she would've realized she never loved him. It was just
prolonged infatuation. She wanted something she could never have. And even if she did love him,
he most certainly did not love her.
Her boyfriend in school. She had never had him as far as she wanted to have him. And she,
being an impatient teenager, had looked for other game. But that wasn't all. She had to hurt
him more. It was a thrill. She was the bad girl. And he was a normal boy, just pretending.
And she did something much much worse. Unforgivable.
She remembered the pained way he had tried to fake indifference. He spoke, measured,
telling her it was over. She had done something unthinkable. Good-bye, have a nice life and all
that. There was no 'it wasn't you, it was me' or 'Can't we be friends?'
Just Good-bye.
And she had cried. He had never seen through his feigned ignorance. Regret couldn't turn
back time. Nothing could.
But now, everything would get better. She had no ties to her husband. She had given no
heir. She would get nothing out of his death.
Except everything.
And soon, she would start over.
She pulled the knife out of its sheath. It was beautiful, not quite glittering in the
darkness. A shining silver with a gold hilt, adorned with tiny precious jewels.
Fit for a king.
She smirked as she slowly opened the door to the master bedroom. Windows shut and
shapeless furniture watching her. The kind of appliances that stayed mint-conditioned, absorbing
no memories and no love.
She could hear soft breathing as she muttered a silencer charm. No one outside the room
would hear anything. Swiftly she crossed the room to the bed. She regarded him quietly,
his black hair, thinly shaped nose and shiny forehead gave him an almost evil disposition.
When opened, his eyes were brown and darting, she would never miss them. He was really
quite ugly, not like him.
She lifted up the knife. Now it would be her turn to say the words. And then they'd be
together.
"Good bye." she smiled.
*
They both had jerked away quickly, still a bit dazed.
"Neville?" Hermione gasped.
"Er, well goodnight then, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow...." Draco said quickly,
then disappeared into his office.
"Hermione....!"Neville said again, still gaping at her.
"Oh God, Neville, I definitely got too close...."
"Yeah, you did."
*
"Oh dear." he gasped, leaning backward against the closer door. He felt sick. This was
the last thing he needed. What would Dumbledore say when he found out? And his head hurt. Why
did his head hurt?
"You're certainly late. What were you doing?" asked an impatient male voice. It didn't
sound human. Like something else, pretending.
"Teaching." Draco sighed.
"It rather looks like it." The owner of the now sarcastic voice, was hidden in the
shadows. Draco didn't seem to notice, or care.
"Oh, be quiet." Draco snapped and stomped off to bed.
As he slowly undid his robes, he looked at himself in the mirror. His ears were
red, like they always were when he was angry or, more uncommonly, embarrassed. His hair was
extremely messy. He grinned, remembering Hermione's hand in his hair, and the way she had
eagerly kissed him back. Then he frowned. He was here to teach. That was all. He didn't need
the whole school whispering about him.
He had already been there once, and didn't need it again. Never again, he remembered
with a bitter pang. He stared, eyes unfocused for a moment. The mirror reflecting his
now bare chest. He had always been too thin. And his shoulders weren't quite as broad as
any other typical man. And his chest was about as muscular as it would get.
But even so, it was pretty impressive. His pectoral muscles were toned, but not body builder
like, sloping down to smooth stomach muscles. Slight hints at washboard abs. His
hips were still narrow, covered by his still-on underwear.
Quickly, he slipped into his pajama bottoms and flopped onto the bed. He sighed,
running his hand through his platinum hair. No, defiantly not.
He wouldn't sleep much tonight.
*
Hermione fumbled loosely for the key to the door. After asking repeatedly if Hermione
was okay, Neville had left. And even these few moments her pulse was still racing and the taste
of him still savouringly sweet on her lips. She had defiantly never kissed anyone like that.
Ever.
Well....she had come close.....
Draco was unbelievable! How dare he kiss her like that! He had been so rude moments
before...
He infuriated her. In the classroom he had acted hardly at all like himself. All shy
and tolerable.
Maybe it was because she had insulted him?
I'm sure your manor misses you.
Tsk tsk tsk, I have never known Hermione Granger to be so quiet.
Oh, come on, even that's a bit deep, for you.
Although as much fun it is to hear you splutter incoherently, but we are now
standing outside my office.
What? Grovel on my hands and knees until you decide to enlighten me with more of
your stupid theories?
Doesn't it strike you as odd, that after all these years, being as civil as I am right
now, I can still make you turn bright red and lose your legendary brilliance?
No, because she had insulted him in the classroom. Er, well almost.
Why would you feel insulted Malfoy? You're the one that gets to
look at me.
She walked into her office and opened the door to her room and entered it. She sat
tiredly on her bed, the mattress sagging lightly under her weight.
She rested her head in her hands.
Draco Malfoy was such a jerk. He had pretended. Made her think her job would be easy.
Maybe he was just trying to be nice. His stupid subconscious way of ruining everything.
How dare he kiss her. How dare he make her pulse quicken like that. How dare he make
her spine tingle with his lightest touch.
Especially since she was still in love with Ron.
*
Harry suddenly grinned. He walked briskly over to a large, polished, wooden cabinet. He
fitted a key into the second from top drawer, and pulled out a yellowed and tattered piece of
parchment.
" I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Like thin, narrow rivers, lines grew quickly from
the end of Harry's wand. The parchment whitened and was tattered no more.
With a pang of remembrance, Harry scanned the Hogwarts layouts.
He watched intently for a moment. A tiny dot labeled Hermione Granger was alone
in Flitwick's old office. Harry scanned again.
In Snape's old office, the dot that represented Draco Malfoy was quite alone.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Now all he needed to do was find Ron.
*
" I knew this would happen, Albus! I told you!" McGonagall cried.
" He is best qualified for the job, Minerva. Now tell me, are you judging him on
his name, father, looks or the child you taught years ago?"
McGonagall gaped at him.
" The child I taught? I hardly could teach him a thing back then! And he's
the same person! What? You think he's changed because he's spoken more than four sentences to
you? Because he's a good teacher? Because he's stopped pretending to be an idiot? He's a Malfoy,
Albus, of course he was pretending! He's pretending now! He's still as shrewd, sarcastic
and...and utterly horrible as he always was!"
"Minerva, I thought you went out of your way not to speak ill of your colleagues?"
"He is not my colleague! He is a rich, stuck up prat that wouldn't last a day
without his namesake. When you hired Severus I kept my mouth shut because I knew he had
changed, when you hired Sybil I said nothing because I knew true seers were nearly impossible
to find and that they hate teaching their craft. When you made Gilderoy a teacher I turned
my head, because he was the only one available. And Remus, with his monthly abnormalities I
ignored, because he was such a good person.
"And then you hired Alastor, and I thought maybe he's not quite as crazy as he was
thought out to be, that turned out deadly. And the year after that was Eralies, that Iranian
witch who had an obsession with dark wizards. I didn't even say a word when you hired
Neville and Hermione! But Draco Malfoy is where I draw the line! I will not have him
corrupting the students." Minerva breathed, absolutely livid from her rant.
" Corrupt?" Dumbledore echoed, sounding amused. " Nevermind, Minerva, I'm not going
to argue with you. Draco is obviously the best for the job. He was always brilliant."
" Well he has a funny way of showing it." McGonagall sneered.
" Of course. He is his father's son."
" Which surprises me a whole lot. Why is he even here? Why isn't he out murdering
muggleborns and such like his father and his crowd?"
" You're forgetting, Minerva, he is also his mother's son."
*
It was morning. Hermione looked blearily around from her usual spot between Vector and Neville. They hadn't bothered to keep the original seating order of the teacher's of Hermione's Hogwarts years. McGonagall was still next to Dumbledore, with Sinistra taking Snape's old space. On Sinistra's other side was an empty space between her and Vector. This space was supposed to contain one blonde haired, blue eyed potions' teacher.
" Where's Malfoy?" Hermione asked Neville. She figured it best not to tell Neville
she and Draco were on a first name basis. He was still a tad upset.
" Probably in his room sulking because I showed up and prevented him from
seducing you-"
" Nevermind." Hermione snapped and turned to Vector. " Hey, d'you know where
Malfoy is?" Vector looked at her slightly sympathetically.
" Hermione, he hasn't shown up for breakfast since he got here."
" Oh, right."
" Dear," the dumpy arithmacy witch said slowly, " I know that teaching at Hogwarts
doesn't leave much room for one's social life, and I know Draco is handsome, charming
and built with mouth-watering perfection. I think we've all had out-landish fantasies
about that sort of man, but acting on them is a no-no."
Hermione had the strong feeling of being talked to by a teacher that believed her
students were stupider than dirt.
" But, I-" she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
" It may seem tough now, Hermione, but in the end, it will be for the best..."
" Now, Bonita," said a sudden, joyful voice, " don't you think you're exaggerating
a bit?" It was Draco, eyes bright and glittering, but still unable to hide heavy bags, probably
from lack of sleep. Yet, he still looked good. He was Draco Malfoy after all.
He sat down next to Vector, elbows on the table, chin resting on his knuckles.
" Mouth watering perfection? Yes, I must admit these thighs are amazing, but have you
seen my arms?" He shook his head lightly. Hermione couldn't help chuckling. Vector's ears
were as red as hers had been.
" Now, Severus Snape, *there* was a Potions teacher with nice arms...." Draco grinned
biting the end of his fork. Vector gaped at him. He grinned wider, turned and started talking
to Sinistra about the position of the stars last night.
Hermione narrowed her eyes suddenly and turned to Neville.
" Did you tell her? Did you tell everyone?"
" No! I didn't breathe a word of it to another living soul!"
" Well then how do they know? How do they know I kissed him?" She hissed.
Neville babbled incoherently. " I don't know, I don't see how..."
Hermione waved her hand impatiently, thinking hard. Another living soul?
She looked at Neville.
"Peeves," they both said.
*
Advanced Potions. Year six. Slytherins and Gryffindors. Fun. Fun. Fun.
Draco hadn't slept much last night, and was feeling rather snappy. He was waiting
for the calming potion he had taken to start working. There was an unusually loud buzz of chatteras the students filled in. The chatter died down as he began to do roll call. Still,
everytime he looked up, the students were hiding giggling faces.
The class went extremely slow. With the usual subtraction and addition of house
points and the eager input of the children. Finally, near the end of the class, a tentative
hand rose.
It was Clorence Melburgn, Gryffindor Quidditch Chaser and over all good student.
" Yes, Clorence?" he asked slowly. The brunette girl blushed. That seems to happen a lot
around here, Draco thought.
" Er, yes, Professor Malfoy, I was wondering, was Peeves lying or did you really kiss
Professor Granger?"
" What's it to you?" yelled a Slytherin. Shouts of agreement from others in the House
rang out.
Draco held up a hand, silencing them. " I'm afraid Peeves was not lying. I did kiss
Professor Granger. But, I believe, it is time for you to be dismissed."
*
Meanwhile, not too far away, Hermione was also 'teaching'.
" So was Peeves right? You kissed Professor Malfoy?" asked a usually notably
quiet Ravenclaw girl. Hermione blushed.
" I did, actually..."
" Really?" asked another, eyes going wide, " are you two dating now, or what?"
Hermione fumbled again. Most of the girls were listening raptly. The boys on the
other hand, had disturbingly glazed expressions and, were all feeling rather envious of
Professor Malfoy.
" Er, well, not..uh"
" Is he a good kisser? He certainly looks it," interrupted someone else. Nods and
words of agreement filled the room as Hermione blushed harder and smoothed her hair behind
her ears.
" Well, this is pretty fun, but I'm afraid I need a word-" that cheerful voice
Hermione had come to know so well sounded by the door.
And there he was, lithe and tall, blonde and blue eyed, arms crossed, leaning
and handsome.
Hermione cursed herself for that thought. " Class dismissed." The students
left, giggling excitedly and shooting expected glimpses at Draco.
Draco smiled and shut the door as the last of them were out. They were now quite alone.
He looked slowly at Hermione. A few uncomfortable seconds passed. Then he started
walking towards her, so she walked to him.
" I suppose Peeves still hasn't learnt to keep his mouth shut." Draco muttered slowly,
but without zounding upset. Hermione laughed and looked up at him. " He's been singing all day-
Drakie Wakie,
Gives Kissie-wissies,
To Miss Granger
And other Missies.
Not his most brilliant piece, it's rather sad."
" Yes, well I suppose bad news travels fast." Hermione reasoned. Draco grinned but then
suddenly looked at Hermione very seriously.
" Hermione," he spoke slowly, reaching down, grasping her hands from her sides and
holding them up between them. Hermione stared at his hands in hers. This was quite a romantic
gesture, but the way he was holding himself seemed to pointedly friendly. "We have to talk
about last night." Hermione broke her gaze and looked up at him. " Look, I'm sorry I left
last night, I should've stayed and worked this out then-"
" You're actually sorry?" Hermione grinned through her stupor.
" Yes, I am actually," he smirked, " and while we're on the subject of apologizes, I
have a few more," he paused and looked up away from her.
" all right," Draco breathed deeply, " I'm sorry I've been a jerk, I'm sorry I was
rude to Longbottom, I'm sorry I was dreadful throughout school, I'm sorry I didn't get to
know you better then, and I'm sorry I kissed you. I was out of line."
Hermione stared at him for a moment.
"You should cherish that moment. It was a once in a life time occurrence." he laughed.
" So this means-"
" I want to be friends. Just friends." Hermione stood for a second, this new information
processing slowly. Draco tensed, indifference on his face but dread spoken on his body. Suddenly,
Hermione grinned, took her hands from his, and hugged him. Draco stood frozen for a minute, then
lifted his arms and embraced her as well.
Hermione grinned into his bony but strong shoulder. She held him a second longer then
they both pulled away.
" Draco? I forgot to thank you this morning."
" For what?"
" For being a prick to Vector..."
" Oh yes, well she wasn't being very nice either, and she always hated me in Arithmacy."
" You took Arithmacy?"
" Naturally. That or Divination, the choice wasn't very hard."
" But I never saw you there-"
" Yes, because you took the class with the Ravenclaws, I'm guessing. And I, as you
may remember, was a Slytherin and was with the Hufflepuffs."
" Oh, right. Well, thank you anyway."
" You're welcome." Draco replied, looking down at his wrist. " Oh, I'm afraid I
have a class to teach. I shall see you later?" Hermione nodded as Draco turned to leave.
" Say, Draco, since you're sorry, does this mean you'll change?" Hermione grinned.
" I am sorry, but I will never change." Draco smirked. Hermione stared, wondering whether
he meant that he was still sorry about the things he had said before, or that he was sorry
he wouldn't change. He turned to leave again.
And this time, she let him go.
*
Harry squinted slightly at the glowing orange sign. I suppose this is it, He thought.
He looked over at the hotel. A hundred rooms, maybe, no more, Off-white coloured paint
peeling from the sides of the building. Harry couldn't help thinking how cliché the place was.
The kind of cheesy establishment that cheep teenage one night stands occurred most often at,
and women escaping from abusive spouses hid in.
He walked slowly in to the hotel, the person at the front desk grinning toothily. He
was a greasy man, hair showing sad signs of balding and face grubby from stubble. He was
wearing a tank top that looked as though it hadn't been washed since the Bubonic Plague
spread its wrath. His pants weren't any better, faded, tight and letting his grotesque
stomach hang out.
Harry grimaced and walked over. He, on the other hand, was wearing a loose cotton
sweater and slightly baggy jeans. He still wore Muggle clothes often, even after his success
as an Auror.
" Wot can I do for you, Meester?"
" Er, I was wondering if you have a Ron Weasley in board here?"
" Sorry, sir. Can't do nuffink like that. 'Course, If I 'ad..." the man began grinning
snidely.
" All right, all right-" Harry said quickly, digging in his pockets and handing the
man a twenty pound note.
" 'E's in room 25. O'er there." The man pointed, pocketing the money.
" Thanks." Harry said curtly. He walked briskly in the implied direction, trying
hard not to guess what exactly had caused the numerous stains along the hallway.
The number on the door was 25. Rusted and chipped, it hardly stayed attached to the door.
Harry knocked twice, and waited.
Ron hesitated for a moment. It was probably just that filthy owner.
He got up. Stupid place didn't even have a looking hole on the door. He opened it, and
there was Harry.
*
Hermione sat in her chambers, cradling a small, muggle photograph. It had been the
last ever of them taken together.
She was there, still a bit bushy-haired and pretty. Beside her, was Harry. Grown out
of his nerdy childhood appearance, now bright eyed and charming.
On the other side was him. Ron. Less freckled and lanky. Flaming red hair and large, deep blue eyes. He still looked like the eleven year old boy she had first met, but was surprisingly good looking. Or perhaps not so surprisingly. Hermione had remembered
Lavender and Parvati giggling over him in their later years.
She remembered other things as well.
She was sitting on the couch, writing, quill making audible scratching sounds.
She had gotten an amazing number of N.E.W.Ts, no one thought she could've done it.
But she did.
Ron came in, grinning madly. He hadn't done quite as well, but good enough to
pursue that mad dream of becoming an Auror. "Hermione! Guess what! Harry's been
accepted too!" Harry, Hermione thought, furrowing her eyebrows, always the noble
one. He had, of course, been accepted into a major Quidditch team, but hadn't breathed
a word of it to Ron. Only she, Hermione, knew. He had, instead, applied to be an Auror.
His friendship with Ron mattered more than his career.
Not that Hermione's love for Ron didn't corrupt her discissions either. Many a night
she had restlessly pondered the situation.
Ron flopped down beside her, taking away her quill and parchment and placing them
on the table. With one, swift motion he pressed his mouth against hers and wrapped his
arms around her.
Hermione loved the way he kissed, his tongue finding hers and
and surrounding it lovingly. He could make her forget everything. Except
one thing.
The kiss ended, but Ron moved, planting kisses along her jaw and
down her neck.
" Ron-" she started.
" Shhh..." he hushed her. But she had to tell him now.
" We have to talk. I'm- I'm not going with you and Harry."
" What?" he asked, now paying attention and looking at her with
raised eyebrows.
" I'm going to stay here- and teach Charms-"
" What! You're joking! I thought we were going to stay together?!"
" Well we can still stay together. I can visit over the summer."
" Over the summer? Is that all? I thought Harry and I
meant more to you! I thought our relationship meant more to you!"
" It does! It couldn't mean more! I just don't want to be an
Auror-"
" There are other jobs you could take, but teaching?!"
" It's what I want to do!"
" I should've known I'd always be second best to books," he
spat. " Fine then. I'll see you at Graduation tomorrow," he said
shortly and stalked off through the portrait hole.
Hermione gaped.
It had all gone downhill from there.
*
Disclaimer- all J.K. Rowlings wonderful works. The dirty man at the hotel can
own himself.
A/N- So there it was. I actually proof read it this time, so I hope it's better
than the first four chapters. Those were crap. Next time? Hermione takes a trip, Draco makes
a friend, Harry and Ron decide what to do. And perhaps Snape will have a little part. Maybe.
Anyway, Review please! I will write a big thank-you next time for anyone what has reviewed,
including the first four chapters.