Disclaimer: See first Chapter
Author's Note: Tara - Thanks, that's just what I was hoping to hear!
"I'd tell it to your face
But you lost or face along the way
And I'd say it on the phone
If I thought you were alone
Why do things have to change?"
-"Hopeless"
Train
As soon as Hermione stumbled through the door (the hall bulb was still broken), her owl Cytheria greeted her with a reply from Harry.
Dear Hermione,
Nice to hear from you again! All is well in England. I went to Dean's wedding last weekend. It was...nice. Strange to think it was just years ago he was blowing up goblets trying to make rum, eh? Say, anyone new in your life?
The strangest thing happened to me a few days ago. You'll never guess who I received an owl from - Draco Malfoy. You remember him, right? Hard not to I suppose. Anyways, it was a pretty simple letter, mighta just been bullshit. Hard to tell with him. It was an apology letter, about the earlier years of our life. He said he wanted to make amends for the things he said. Didn't give an explanation, nor did he blame anyone or anything.
Strange, huh? I'm off to Bulgaria for the next week or so - a tournament so I might be busy.
When will I see you again?
Yours,
Harry
Hermione allowed a small giggle. Harry always ended his letters that way - "When can I see you again?" Hermione knew very well he had gaggles of women swarming around him. He told her even Cho Chang had gone to see one of his games recently. Hermione supposed he missed her companionship, and hey, sometimes she missed it, too.
Hermione placed the letter in a drawer with all the others, and made herself some dinner. With a flick of her wand, her salad was mixed and in a bowl, and her CD player turned on. It wasn't until later that Hermione remembered the slip of paper in her ourse. She was sitting on her bed, staring into the mirror above her bureau. Hermione was fantasizing about Draco's eyes, and the new smile she seen gracing his face for the first time. Not that she would admit it. She admitted she was curious. The new information about his letter to Harry only complicated matters. Hermione was both suspicious and intrigued. What would she loose by calling him?
It was 10:37, according to her clock next to the bed. It's red numbers flashed annoyingly. 'Not too late to call,' she thought. 'What the hell?' She slowly dialed the seven numbers, as if expecting them to lead to a porno video shop.
"Holiday Inn, who can I connect you to?"
"Uh, room 108, please." Hermione stuttered. The phone clicked, paused, than began to ring again.
"Hermione?" A masculine voice answered. Hermione decided she liked the voice. It was deep, but not too deep. It had the ability to be playful, and deathly serious.
"How'd you know?" she asked curiously.
You're the only one I gave the number to, of course."
"What are you doing here anyway? And can you speak up? I can barely hear you."
"Sorry, Ella's asleep next to me. Wait while I move her?" Hermione agreed, and she heard some shuffling until Draco's voice returned.
"Thank's for calling me, by the way. There's a lot I'd like to talk about." Draco continued.
"Me too."
"What am I doing here? Ella wanted to come. She got tired of winter in England."
"Are you staying?"
"No...I've got appointments. Ella has school. We found a wonderful tutor for her so she doesn't have to deal with school."
"She's learning magic?"
"Yes, of course. Her mother was a fantastic witch. Went to Bauxbautons."
"Is she back in England?"
"She's dead." There was a long pause in conversation.
"Hey, want me to call you back?" Draco asked. "I don't want to rack up your phone bill too much." Hermione agreed, and gave him her number without hesitating. When they were connected again, Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Do you mind talking about her?"
"Yes. Usually."
"Okay. I heard you sent a letter to Harry not long ago."
"Ah, so you're still in touch with him at least. I heard you severed ties with Weasley. What happened?" Hermione did not reply. "Okay, we won't go there. Yes, I wanted to at least try and make up for how I treated him. Come to think of it, all the Gryffindors."
"Why, have a change of heart?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "I'm still having a hard time believing I'm here, talking civilly with Malfoy, the former Slytherin King."
Hermione heard a chuckle on the other end. "Bastard I was. Do you have any interest in my side of the story? Truthfully?"
"Of course, or else I wouldn't be here now."
"Good point. It wasn't easy, growing up a Malfoy. That much is obvious. My farther hated me. I was just another recruit for Voldemort. My mother was like a glass figurine. So beautiful, so tragically fragile. She didn't really care much about what happened to me. As long as it didn't tarnish the Malfoy name and her reputation. It was always about the name. But 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'". Draco surprised Hermione by quoting Shakespeare. "It was fun for awhile, being able to torture who I pleased, get away with murder for the most part. I fell into the roll of Mudblood Hater, Heir of Voldemort. It wasn't until I grew up a little that I started to have morals of my own. I looked at the world around me, and became bitter. The unfairness of it all hit me; how could I have been chosen to live the life of a Malfoy?"
Hermione had been silent as a mouse. Draco was getting emotional, she could tell by the rise and fall of his voice. He stopped not to capture his breath.
"It wasn't until I held Ella in my arms the first time that I began to feel repentant for my actions. I wanted to go back and apologize, try to take some of it back. Parenthood does amazing things to you. I hope you can experience that feeling someday, Hermione."
Hermione found her voice. "So do I."
Hermione and Draco called each other back many times that night. Discussing old memories from Hogwarts, talking about their lives now, and hopes they still held for the future. It was 3 AM when Hermione finally yawned, and they both agreed to call it a night.
"Are you busy tomorrow?" Draco asked, almost hesitantly.
"Tomorrow is my day off."
"Can we see you?" Hermione liked how he said 'we', never forgetting small Ella.
"I can pick you up at eight."
Next Chapter: A long one coming soon. A day at the beach, time with the Malfoys. Plus what happened to Draco's wife.
Author's Note: Tara - Thanks, that's just what I was hoping to hear!
"I'd tell it to your face
But you lost or face along the way
And I'd say it on the phone
If I thought you were alone
Why do things have to change?"
-"Hopeless"
Train
As soon as Hermione stumbled through the door (the hall bulb was still broken), her owl Cytheria greeted her with a reply from Harry.
Dear Hermione,
Nice to hear from you again! All is well in England. I went to Dean's wedding last weekend. It was...nice. Strange to think it was just years ago he was blowing up goblets trying to make rum, eh? Say, anyone new in your life?
The strangest thing happened to me a few days ago. You'll never guess who I received an owl from - Draco Malfoy. You remember him, right? Hard not to I suppose. Anyways, it was a pretty simple letter, mighta just been bullshit. Hard to tell with him. It was an apology letter, about the earlier years of our life. He said he wanted to make amends for the things he said. Didn't give an explanation, nor did he blame anyone or anything.
Strange, huh? I'm off to Bulgaria for the next week or so - a tournament so I might be busy.
When will I see you again?
Yours,
Harry
Hermione allowed a small giggle. Harry always ended his letters that way - "When can I see you again?" Hermione knew very well he had gaggles of women swarming around him. He told her even Cho Chang had gone to see one of his games recently. Hermione supposed he missed her companionship, and hey, sometimes she missed it, too.
Hermione placed the letter in a drawer with all the others, and made herself some dinner. With a flick of her wand, her salad was mixed and in a bowl, and her CD player turned on. It wasn't until later that Hermione remembered the slip of paper in her ourse. She was sitting on her bed, staring into the mirror above her bureau. Hermione was fantasizing about Draco's eyes, and the new smile she seen gracing his face for the first time. Not that she would admit it. She admitted she was curious. The new information about his letter to Harry only complicated matters. Hermione was both suspicious and intrigued. What would she loose by calling him?
It was 10:37, according to her clock next to the bed. It's red numbers flashed annoyingly. 'Not too late to call,' she thought. 'What the hell?' She slowly dialed the seven numbers, as if expecting them to lead to a porno video shop.
"Holiday Inn, who can I connect you to?"
"Uh, room 108, please." Hermione stuttered. The phone clicked, paused, than began to ring again.
"Hermione?" A masculine voice answered. Hermione decided she liked the voice. It was deep, but not too deep. It had the ability to be playful, and deathly serious.
"How'd you know?" she asked curiously.
You're the only one I gave the number to, of course."
"What are you doing here anyway? And can you speak up? I can barely hear you."
"Sorry, Ella's asleep next to me. Wait while I move her?" Hermione agreed, and she heard some shuffling until Draco's voice returned.
"Thank's for calling me, by the way. There's a lot I'd like to talk about." Draco continued.
"Me too."
"What am I doing here? Ella wanted to come. She got tired of winter in England."
"Are you staying?"
"No...I've got appointments. Ella has school. We found a wonderful tutor for her so she doesn't have to deal with school."
"She's learning magic?"
"Yes, of course. Her mother was a fantastic witch. Went to Bauxbautons."
"Is she back in England?"
"She's dead." There was a long pause in conversation.
"Hey, want me to call you back?" Draco asked. "I don't want to rack up your phone bill too much." Hermione agreed, and gave him her number without hesitating. When they were connected again, Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Do you mind talking about her?"
"Yes. Usually."
"Okay. I heard you sent a letter to Harry not long ago."
"Ah, so you're still in touch with him at least. I heard you severed ties with Weasley. What happened?" Hermione did not reply. "Okay, we won't go there. Yes, I wanted to at least try and make up for how I treated him. Come to think of it, all the Gryffindors."
"Why, have a change of heart?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "I'm still having a hard time believing I'm here, talking civilly with Malfoy, the former Slytherin King."
Hermione heard a chuckle on the other end. "Bastard I was. Do you have any interest in my side of the story? Truthfully?"
"Of course, or else I wouldn't be here now."
"Good point. It wasn't easy, growing up a Malfoy. That much is obvious. My farther hated me. I was just another recruit for Voldemort. My mother was like a glass figurine. So beautiful, so tragically fragile. She didn't really care much about what happened to me. As long as it didn't tarnish the Malfoy name and her reputation. It was always about the name. But 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'". Draco surprised Hermione by quoting Shakespeare. "It was fun for awhile, being able to torture who I pleased, get away with murder for the most part. I fell into the roll of Mudblood Hater, Heir of Voldemort. It wasn't until I grew up a little that I started to have morals of my own. I looked at the world around me, and became bitter. The unfairness of it all hit me; how could I have been chosen to live the life of a Malfoy?"
Hermione had been silent as a mouse. Draco was getting emotional, she could tell by the rise and fall of his voice. He stopped not to capture his breath.
"It wasn't until I held Ella in my arms the first time that I began to feel repentant for my actions. I wanted to go back and apologize, try to take some of it back. Parenthood does amazing things to you. I hope you can experience that feeling someday, Hermione."
Hermione found her voice. "So do I."
Hermione and Draco called each other back many times that night. Discussing old memories from Hogwarts, talking about their lives now, and hopes they still held for the future. It was 3 AM when Hermione finally yawned, and they both agreed to call it a night.
"Are you busy tomorrow?" Draco asked, almost hesitantly.
"Tomorrow is my day off."
"Can we see you?" Hermione liked how he said 'we', never forgetting small Ella.
"I can pick you up at eight."
Next Chapter: A long one coming soon. A day at the beach, time with the Malfoys. Plus what happened to Draco's wife.