It was a perfectly justifiable question.
What had just happened?
Silence.
Draco opened his mouth several times in the few minutes following their brief lip-lock, as if to say something; but it seemed that even he was lost for words. And if the whole antecedent incident didn't convey enough astonishment, Draco's inability to comment certainly put the icing on the cake.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Wh- what....." She stopped, massaged her temples and started her sentence again. "How....." In despair, she exhaled deeply.
It was no use. The words just refused to come out. Either that or she didn't know what to say. Hermione desperately tried to convince herself that her inability to speak was due to the former, but after a moment's careful consideration, and as much as she hated finding herself in a position where she didn't know something, she concluded that it was definitely due to the latter.
Their eyes met; Draco's insecurity of his present circumstances immediately visible to Hermione. She wondered if he could tell how she was feeling in the same way that she could him.
Draco broke their eye contact, and looked at the ground. He suddenly became aware that he was still backed against the wall. He pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder. He sighed. As far as Draco was concerned, any distraction from this post-kiss silence would be a heaven-send. At this moment in time he felt as though he would be grateful for anything to occur, even if it involved something as eventful as being kidnapped and then mauled by a Chinese Fireball. His gaze shifted from the ground to the sky, a strange new hope reflected in his eyes, almost as if he actually expected a dragon to suddenly dive down to earth.
No sign of that dragon.
Draco sighed again, and started distractedly punching the wall.
"You shouldn't do that." Hermione commented, softly.
Draco looked at her, his left eyebrow raised.
"Just something my mum told me once." A slight smile played around the corners of Hermione's lips. She mimicked what could only have been her mother's voice. "Don't even think about touching any wall in London, 'Mione. You don't know which tramps have peed on them." She paused, and then smiled softly. "I'm sorry. It wasn't really relevant, I just....." Her voice trailed off as she sought for words.
".....Didn't know what else to say?" Draco asked, his voice soft and unusually quiet.
Hermione quickly changed the subject, skipping over Draco's implications, trying to pretend that nothing at all had happened, and..... failed miserably. Her voice was higher, and somewhat more strained than normal.
"So, where were we? Oh yeah, going home. The station, about a mile that way wasn't it? Ok then, lets go....." She started to walk off.
"Oh no you don't." Draco grabbed her wrist, his words infused with a tinge of amusement, and pulled her back to face him. He swallowed, and blinked. "We really should talk about this; no, we are going to talk about this." He eased his grip on Hermione's arm.
"What do we need to talk about?" Hermione asked, somewhat pathetically. "What could we possibly need to talk about....." She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. "Why would I....." She tried to blink them back - it didn't work. Her hand flew to her eyes, and she turned away from Draco, ashamed of her tears.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, looking quite anxious.
Hermione laughed bitterly through her tears, wiped her eyes and looked Draco square in the eye.
"This is wrong!" She exclaimed.
"This?"
Hermione made a noise in the back of her throat, which greatly resembled an exasperated growl.
"What. Just. Happened."
"What? You bursting into tears on me for no apparent reason, or....."
"What do you think?" Hermione spat. "You kissed me!"
"Funnily enough I was fully aware of that." Draco's eyebrow was raised again.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't even think you can weave your way out of this by being a smart arse!"
"I wasn't planning on it." Draco was now making no effort to hide his irritation.
"Planning on what? Kissing me or being a smart arse?" The bitterness had evaporated.
"Well, neither really....." Draco admitted.
Hermione's defensive shields went up. "Then why did you do it? What suddenly gave you the urge to invade my personal space?"
"You mean your lips?" Draco fought to conceal a smirk.
"Well I'D call them mine!" Hermione sounded so outraged that Draco had to laugh. "STOP LAUGHING!" She shouted. "This is not funny! Why did you do it?"
Draco stopped laughing. His cheeks coloured slightly.
"So, you were saying about walking to the station. I should really be getting home now. My dad....."
".....can wait!" Hermione stepped in front of Draco, a new menacing expression pasted across her face. She backed him against the wall again. "Now," Hermione's tone was smooth and undeniably dangerous - Draco was on thin ice; he would have to watch what he said. "Please enlighten me as to why you felt it necessary to stick your tongue down my throat."
"Firstly," Draco's tone matched Hermione's, "I don't want tramp urine on my jacket. Would you mind....." He gestured Hermione out of his way. Reluctantly, she obliged, beaten by the logic of her own anecdote. "Thank you." He moved away from the wall and readjusted the collar of his jacket. "Secondly, I really think we should make a move towards the station." Hermione opened her mouth to object. Before she could do so, Draco raised his hands. "But I do owe you an explanation." His eyes slightly narrowed. "You're lucky you're getting one - Malfoys don't apologise."
Hermione rolled her eyes - another bloody Malfoy family rule. However, not to be outdone, she almost automatically responded, "but Malfoys don't kiss mudbloods either, do they?"
Draco was feeling uncomfortable again. She seemed able to constantly outwit him.
"You seem to be forgetting, Miss Granger, that you kissed me back."
Hermione happily skipped over this subject, and smiling sweetly said, "That doesn't count as an explanation."
Now it was Draco's turn to growl in exasperation.
"I just..... I just felt like it." He shrugged. "That's all. No particular reason. Thought it would shut you up."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.
There was a horrible silence.
"Oh really?" Hermione broke it.
Draco nodded, expressionless, avoiding eye contact with Hermione.
"Liar."
"Excuse me?" Draco's eyes opened so wide that they almost popped out. "I have never been so deadly serious in my life." He took a deep breath, desperately hoping his false confidence would be convincing enough to fool Hermione. He injected his familiar cold sarcasm into his voice. "You were throwing a fit at me in public, I wanted to shut you up. That would mean stopping words from coming out of your mouth, and seeing as I can't hex you here, how better to do it than....."
"You lying toad, Draco Malfoy!"
"Why do you think I did it, Granger?" Draco spat. "Did you think that I liked you or something?" He pretended to search her face for the answer, although he was really looking right through her. He put on a tone of false mockery. "Oh, you did..... How sweet." He laughed nastily. "Whatever possessed you to think that I would ever consider liking you..... You're just a lowly mudblood!"
Hermione laughed, just as nastily. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you. Do you want to know what I think? Actually, don't answer, because I am going to tell you EXACTLY what I think! You're scared." Draco scoffed aloud. Hermione ran her hands through her hair in irritation. "You can't even look at me in the face!" For the second time that day, she grabbed Draco's chin and forced him to look at her directly. "Say it again then," she hissed. "Say it to me as opposed to through me. Tell me that I'm not good enough for you! Tell me that you felt nothing when you kissed me. Tell me that....." Her eyes filled up again, but this time she forced the tears back, showing only her desperation for the truth. "Tell me that you, not even for a brief moment, thought that....." She sighed. "Forget it. Whether you admit it or not, you're a liar."
"For the twentieth time, Granger, I - I'm not....."
"Of course not." The sarcasm slid off Hermione's tongue. "I just can't understand why you're making such an effort to justify to yourself that I mean nothing to you. That's what you're doing Draco, I can see right through you. Why bother? Are you really that much of a coward that you can't admit your own feelings?" A thoughtful yet troubled expression settled on her face briefly, before it dissolved into an empty smile. "Anyway, I- I think I'll be going home now." She turned on her heel and began to walk away, turning round to face Draco as she reached the end of the road, only a few metres away. "So, I'll see you in January on the Hogwarts Express I expect..... If you ever find your way home." She added the last part in an undertone.
Draco watched her walk away, and turn back onto the main road. What had he done? He had hardly handled that in the best possible way. And now he was back to square one, stranded with no idea of how to get home.
He shook his head. He didn't care about getting home though. All he could even think about was his conversation with Hermione. Draco couldn't remember ever having been so harsh to anybody and as a result actually feeling guilty for it. It was a horrible feeling, burning through his insides..... He had to find Hermione.
He raced off in the same direction she had gone, reaching the end of the side-road they had been on. He remembered the old man's directions to the station, and as quickly as possible on such a congested street, began to weave his way up the main road.
---
Out of breath and exhausted, Draco reached the station. "Tottenham Court Road" - that was the place.
However, it wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped to find Hermione. There were people everywhere: queuing up to press buttons on the walls, talking to attendants dressed in bright blue and orange uniforms and inserting small cards into slots which then opened small gates..... But there was no sign of the dark-haired witch.
Draco's hopes began to fade.
"So you're not entirely useless." A familiar voice rang out.
Draco spun around to see Hermione looking up at him, her head cocked to one side. She almost looked, but could she possibly be, amused. Draco decided it would be safer if he assumed that she wasn't.
"I'm almost impressed. Seems like you do pay some attention when it suits you. Look, I would have come and found you anyway... Well, I might have considered it at the least."
"Hermione..."
"Look, you don't have to start being nice to be just because you need to find your way home, I already said... One moment," Hermione paused, "Did you just call me 'Hermione'?"
"That's your name, isn't it?" Draco asked, defensively.
"Yes, but you never..." She stopped. "Never mind. Anyway, what did you want to say?"
"You're right."
"I'm always right." Hermione's response was short and comical. "But what about?"
Draco laughed at her dry humour. "I'm a liar."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She quickly came to her senses and closed it, swallowing hard. "About which part?"
Naively having not been expecting an interrogation, and least of all having not been expecting to have to answer this question, Draco's confidence dissolved almost immediately. His voice trailed off as he answered, "you know which part I'm talking about..."
Hermione stared at him, no trace of amusement on her face now. "I want to hear you say it."
Draco blushed bright red, and dragged his eyes away from his feet, forcing himself to look into Hermione's eyes. "I like you. Satisfied?"
Hermione grinned. "Very!"
She grabbed Draco around the neck and planted her lips upon his. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her for the second time that day. When they finally broke apart, Hermione kissed Draco on the cheek.
"Diagon Alley, here we come."
---
Draco was not entirely impressed with the London Underground, to say the least. Hermione did try to explain that it didn't always smell of vomit, and that there weren't always mashed-up remains of take-away meals strewn over the floor, but there was no talking Draco out of his threats to never use London Transport ever again.
"So," Draco gazed up at the Underground map, as their train bulleted towards Charing Cross, "How will you get home from Diagon Alley? Your house isn't on the Floo Network."
"True, true." Hermione played with Draco's fingers, which had been intertwined with her own since dodging past the guards checking for tickets at Tottenham Court Road. "But that's no problem, I'll just get back on a train. There's a station right near my house. Same line as well..."
"Speaking of which, where do you live?"
Hermione reclaimed her fingers, and stood up. The carriage was surprisingly empty, and she knelt on the seat opposite Draco, pointing to a blob on the map above the seat. "Here. I live about five minutes from East Finchley station."
"Maybe I'll visit you some time, if you're lucky."
"I thought you said you were never using the tube again."
"I'm not."
"Then how exactly do you propose to..."
"Oh shut up!" Draco pecked Hermione softly on the lips before she had the chance to comment. He pulled away enough to smile at her.
Suddenly something dawned on him, and he pulled away from Hermione to ask her something.
"Hermione."
"Yes."
"Was that message you received on your phone whilst we were fighting from Lisa?"
Hermione looked confused for a second. "Yeah, why?"
Draco grinned. "What DID she ask Father Christmas for?"
Hermione grinned back, and withdrew her phone from her pocket. She pressed a few buttons, and found the message. She handed the phone to Draco with strict instructions that he was NOT to touch any buttons; the last thing she needed was her SIM card being blocked by a technology-ignorant wizard. Draco looked at her in confusion, but took the phone anyway, reading the small black letters displayed on the tiny, illuminated-green screen:
"I WISH THAT A CERTAIN TWO PEOPLE STANDING IN-LINE BEHIND ME WILL GET THEIR ACTS TOGETHER - PERHAPS A LITTLE CUNNINGLY-POSITIONED MISTLETOE MIGHT DO THE TRICK!"
Draco laughed. "Are you going to bother telling her that she won't need to invest in any of that over-rated dead tree?"
Hermione laughed at his cynicism, and put her phone away.
"She'll be the first person I call when I walk in the door."
"And be sure to write a thank-you letter to Santa as well." Draco sarcastically threw in.
SMACK!
Hermione slapped him gently on the shoulder. "Shut up!"
The train began to slow down, pulling into Charing Cross station. A mechanical voice suddenly spoke over the loudspeaker:
"This is Charing Cross station. Change here for main line suburban rail services, British Rail and..."
Hermione turned to Draco. "...Diagon Alley. This is your stop." She stood up. "I'll walk you to the station exit. You can see the Leaky Cauldron from there."
Draco nodded.
---
Standing at the exit of the station, Hermione turned to face Draco. "You're ok from here, aren't you? Are you positive you don't need walking to the Leaky Cauldron?"
"Hermione, I don't even need to cross any roads! Will you please stop acting like a neurotic grandmother!"
"Sorry. I just don't want you to leave."
"I'll send you an owl before the end of the holidays. Maybe, if my dad doesn't kill me, we can meet up in Diagon Alley before we go back to school." Draco's stomach was feeling quite weak at the thought that in a few moments he would be seeing his father, and possibly having to handle a great deal of his wrath to make matters all the more worse.
Hermione nodded.
Draco leant forward to kiss Hermione goodbye. He pulled her closer than ever, as she stood on tiptoes to reach entirely round the back of his neck.
Draco was first to pull away, kissing Hermione affectionately on the forehead. She released him from her grasp, and smoothed his t-shirt out. He rolled his eyes in amusement.
"Neurotic grandmother. Enough said?" Hermione burst into a fit of giggles at Draco's accurate comparison.
Their hands separated, and Draco began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron, turning to wave at Hermione as he reached the door. Once she saw he was safely inside, she turned and made her way back down to the train platforms.
---
Back in familiar territory, Draco stopped a moment to breathe in his surroundings - he could almost taste the magic in the air. Across the room, two middle-aged wizards were arguing about the bar tab. Their wands were drawn, and then were throwing hexes at each other. Because the men were slightly tipsy, their aim was, to say the least, highly imprecise, and coloured sparks were darting around the room and landing on innocent customers. A couple of waiters were desperately trying to restrain the men, as more and more customers left, some with leeks freshly sprouted from their ears, and one highly-strung witch threatening to have the place shut down due to being unable to control its regulars - she was heatedly telling an extremely stressed-looking waiter that this was the third time she had left the pub in the last two weeks having been hexed, only she had never been as outraged as she was now. Her fury was understandable, Draco thought. She had turned bright green from head-to-toe, and had developed purple whiskers which protruded unattractively from her temples, chin and beneath her nose.
Dodging jagged embers of multi-coloured light, Draco approached the bartender on duty. He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out one gold galleon.
"Any chance of using your Floo terminal?"
The bartender's eyes fell onto the gleaming piece of gold in Draco's hand, and widened.
"But of course, sir."
Draco smiled smugly to himself, ecstatic to be back on wizard soil. He handed over his galleon to the bartender, and reached into the pot he held out in return. Pulling out a handful of glittering green powder, Draco threw it into the blazing fireplace.
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, Draco spoke clearly into the green flames, which arose around him. "Malfoy Manner."
He stepped into the fireplace, and bit his lip as the magical vortex carried him home.
He would be sure to savour his few moments of silence in the gyrating green realm of limbo. A nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that perhaps things would not be so calm and undisturbed when he landed at the other end...
What had just happened?
Silence.
Draco opened his mouth several times in the few minutes following their brief lip-lock, as if to say something; but it seemed that even he was lost for words. And if the whole antecedent incident didn't convey enough astonishment, Draco's inability to comment certainly put the icing on the cake.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Wh- what....." She stopped, massaged her temples and started her sentence again. "How....." In despair, she exhaled deeply.
It was no use. The words just refused to come out. Either that or she didn't know what to say. Hermione desperately tried to convince herself that her inability to speak was due to the former, but after a moment's careful consideration, and as much as she hated finding herself in a position where she didn't know something, she concluded that it was definitely due to the latter.
Their eyes met; Draco's insecurity of his present circumstances immediately visible to Hermione. She wondered if he could tell how she was feeling in the same way that she could him.
Draco broke their eye contact, and looked at the ground. He suddenly became aware that he was still backed against the wall. He pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder. He sighed. As far as Draco was concerned, any distraction from this post-kiss silence would be a heaven-send. At this moment in time he felt as though he would be grateful for anything to occur, even if it involved something as eventful as being kidnapped and then mauled by a Chinese Fireball. His gaze shifted from the ground to the sky, a strange new hope reflected in his eyes, almost as if he actually expected a dragon to suddenly dive down to earth.
No sign of that dragon.
Draco sighed again, and started distractedly punching the wall.
"You shouldn't do that." Hermione commented, softly.
Draco looked at her, his left eyebrow raised.
"Just something my mum told me once." A slight smile played around the corners of Hermione's lips. She mimicked what could only have been her mother's voice. "Don't even think about touching any wall in London, 'Mione. You don't know which tramps have peed on them." She paused, and then smiled softly. "I'm sorry. It wasn't really relevant, I just....." Her voice trailed off as she sought for words.
".....Didn't know what else to say?" Draco asked, his voice soft and unusually quiet.
Hermione quickly changed the subject, skipping over Draco's implications, trying to pretend that nothing at all had happened, and..... failed miserably. Her voice was higher, and somewhat more strained than normal.
"So, where were we? Oh yeah, going home. The station, about a mile that way wasn't it? Ok then, lets go....." She started to walk off.
"Oh no you don't." Draco grabbed her wrist, his words infused with a tinge of amusement, and pulled her back to face him. He swallowed, and blinked. "We really should talk about this; no, we are going to talk about this." He eased his grip on Hermione's arm.
"What do we need to talk about?" Hermione asked, somewhat pathetically. "What could we possibly need to talk about....." She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. "Why would I....." She tried to blink them back - it didn't work. Her hand flew to her eyes, and she turned away from Draco, ashamed of her tears.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, looking quite anxious.
Hermione laughed bitterly through her tears, wiped her eyes and looked Draco square in the eye.
"This is wrong!" She exclaimed.
"This?"
Hermione made a noise in the back of her throat, which greatly resembled an exasperated growl.
"What. Just. Happened."
"What? You bursting into tears on me for no apparent reason, or....."
"What do you think?" Hermione spat. "You kissed me!"
"Funnily enough I was fully aware of that." Draco's eyebrow was raised again.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't even think you can weave your way out of this by being a smart arse!"
"I wasn't planning on it." Draco was now making no effort to hide his irritation.
"Planning on what? Kissing me or being a smart arse?" The bitterness had evaporated.
"Well, neither really....." Draco admitted.
Hermione's defensive shields went up. "Then why did you do it? What suddenly gave you the urge to invade my personal space?"
"You mean your lips?" Draco fought to conceal a smirk.
"Well I'D call them mine!" Hermione sounded so outraged that Draco had to laugh. "STOP LAUGHING!" She shouted. "This is not funny! Why did you do it?"
Draco stopped laughing. His cheeks coloured slightly.
"So, you were saying about walking to the station. I should really be getting home now. My dad....."
".....can wait!" Hermione stepped in front of Draco, a new menacing expression pasted across her face. She backed him against the wall again. "Now," Hermione's tone was smooth and undeniably dangerous - Draco was on thin ice; he would have to watch what he said. "Please enlighten me as to why you felt it necessary to stick your tongue down my throat."
"Firstly," Draco's tone matched Hermione's, "I don't want tramp urine on my jacket. Would you mind....." He gestured Hermione out of his way. Reluctantly, she obliged, beaten by the logic of her own anecdote. "Thank you." He moved away from the wall and readjusted the collar of his jacket. "Secondly, I really think we should make a move towards the station." Hermione opened her mouth to object. Before she could do so, Draco raised his hands. "But I do owe you an explanation." His eyes slightly narrowed. "You're lucky you're getting one - Malfoys don't apologise."
Hermione rolled her eyes - another bloody Malfoy family rule. However, not to be outdone, she almost automatically responded, "but Malfoys don't kiss mudbloods either, do they?"
Draco was feeling uncomfortable again. She seemed able to constantly outwit him.
"You seem to be forgetting, Miss Granger, that you kissed me back."
Hermione happily skipped over this subject, and smiling sweetly said, "That doesn't count as an explanation."
Now it was Draco's turn to growl in exasperation.
"I just..... I just felt like it." He shrugged. "That's all. No particular reason. Thought it would shut you up."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.
There was a horrible silence.
"Oh really?" Hermione broke it.
Draco nodded, expressionless, avoiding eye contact with Hermione.
"Liar."
"Excuse me?" Draco's eyes opened so wide that they almost popped out. "I have never been so deadly serious in my life." He took a deep breath, desperately hoping his false confidence would be convincing enough to fool Hermione. He injected his familiar cold sarcasm into his voice. "You were throwing a fit at me in public, I wanted to shut you up. That would mean stopping words from coming out of your mouth, and seeing as I can't hex you here, how better to do it than....."
"You lying toad, Draco Malfoy!"
"Why do you think I did it, Granger?" Draco spat. "Did you think that I liked you or something?" He pretended to search her face for the answer, although he was really looking right through her. He put on a tone of false mockery. "Oh, you did..... How sweet." He laughed nastily. "Whatever possessed you to think that I would ever consider liking you..... You're just a lowly mudblood!"
Hermione laughed, just as nastily. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you. Do you want to know what I think? Actually, don't answer, because I am going to tell you EXACTLY what I think! You're scared." Draco scoffed aloud. Hermione ran her hands through her hair in irritation. "You can't even look at me in the face!" For the second time that day, she grabbed Draco's chin and forced him to look at her directly. "Say it again then," she hissed. "Say it to me as opposed to through me. Tell me that I'm not good enough for you! Tell me that you felt nothing when you kissed me. Tell me that....." Her eyes filled up again, but this time she forced the tears back, showing only her desperation for the truth. "Tell me that you, not even for a brief moment, thought that....." She sighed. "Forget it. Whether you admit it or not, you're a liar."
"For the twentieth time, Granger, I - I'm not....."
"Of course not." The sarcasm slid off Hermione's tongue. "I just can't understand why you're making such an effort to justify to yourself that I mean nothing to you. That's what you're doing Draco, I can see right through you. Why bother? Are you really that much of a coward that you can't admit your own feelings?" A thoughtful yet troubled expression settled on her face briefly, before it dissolved into an empty smile. "Anyway, I- I think I'll be going home now." She turned on her heel and began to walk away, turning round to face Draco as she reached the end of the road, only a few metres away. "So, I'll see you in January on the Hogwarts Express I expect..... If you ever find your way home." She added the last part in an undertone.
Draco watched her walk away, and turn back onto the main road. What had he done? He had hardly handled that in the best possible way. And now he was back to square one, stranded with no idea of how to get home.
He shook his head. He didn't care about getting home though. All he could even think about was his conversation with Hermione. Draco couldn't remember ever having been so harsh to anybody and as a result actually feeling guilty for it. It was a horrible feeling, burning through his insides..... He had to find Hermione.
He raced off in the same direction she had gone, reaching the end of the side-road they had been on. He remembered the old man's directions to the station, and as quickly as possible on such a congested street, began to weave his way up the main road.
---
Out of breath and exhausted, Draco reached the station. "Tottenham Court Road" - that was the place.
However, it wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped to find Hermione. There were people everywhere: queuing up to press buttons on the walls, talking to attendants dressed in bright blue and orange uniforms and inserting small cards into slots which then opened small gates..... But there was no sign of the dark-haired witch.
Draco's hopes began to fade.
"So you're not entirely useless." A familiar voice rang out.
Draco spun around to see Hermione looking up at him, her head cocked to one side. She almost looked, but could she possibly be, amused. Draco decided it would be safer if he assumed that she wasn't.
"I'm almost impressed. Seems like you do pay some attention when it suits you. Look, I would have come and found you anyway... Well, I might have considered it at the least."
"Hermione..."
"Look, you don't have to start being nice to be just because you need to find your way home, I already said... One moment," Hermione paused, "Did you just call me 'Hermione'?"
"That's your name, isn't it?" Draco asked, defensively.
"Yes, but you never..." She stopped. "Never mind. Anyway, what did you want to say?"
"You're right."
"I'm always right." Hermione's response was short and comical. "But what about?"
Draco laughed at her dry humour. "I'm a liar."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She quickly came to her senses and closed it, swallowing hard. "About which part?"
Naively having not been expecting an interrogation, and least of all having not been expecting to have to answer this question, Draco's confidence dissolved almost immediately. His voice trailed off as he answered, "you know which part I'm talking about..."
Hermione stared at him, no trace of amusement on her face now. "I want to hear you say it."
Draco blushed bright red, and dragged his eyes away from his feet, forcing himself to look into Hermione's eyes. "I like you. Satisfied?"
Hermione grinned. "Very!"
She grabbed Draco around the neck and planted her lips upon his. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her for the second time that day. When they finally broke apart, Hermione kissed Draco on the cheek.
"Diagon Alley, here we come."
---
Draco was not entirely impressed with the London Underground, to say the least. Hermione did try to explain that it didn't always smell of vomit, and that there weren't always mashed-up remains of take-away meals strewn over the floor, but there was no talking Draco out of his threats to never use London Transport ever again.
"So," Draco gazed up at the Underground map, as their train bulleted towards Charing Cross, "How will you get home from Diagon Alley? Your house isn't on the Floo Network."
"True, true." Hermione played with Draco's fingers, which had been intertwined with her own since dodging past the guards checking for tickets at Tottenham Court Road. "But that's no problem, I'll just get back on a train. There's a station right near my house. Same line as well..."
"Speaking of which, where do you live?"
Hermione reclaimed her fingers, and stood up. The carriage was surprisingly empty, and she knelt on the seat opposite Draco, pointing to a blob on the map above the seat. "Here. I live about five minutes from East Finchley station."
"Maybe I'll visit you some time, if you're lucky."
"I thought you said you were never using the tube again."
"I'm not."
"Then how exactly do you propose to..."
"Oh shut up!" Draco pecked Hermione softly on the lips before she had the chance to comment. He pulled away enough to smile at her.
Suddenly something dawned on him, and he pulled away from Hermione to ask her something.
"Hermione."
"Yes."
"Was that message you received on your phone whilst we were fighting from Lisa?"
Hermione looked confused for a second. "Yeah, why?"
Draco grinned. "What DID she ask Father Christmas for?"
Hermione grinned back, and withdrew her phone from her pocket. She pressed a few buttons, and found the message. She handed the phone to Draco with strict instructions that he was NOT to touch any buttons; the last thing she needed was her SIM card being blocked by a technology-ignorant wizard. Draco looked at her in confusion, but took the phone anyway, reading the small black letters displayed on the tiny, illuminated-green screen:
"I WISH THAT A CERTAIN TWO PEOPLE STANDING IN-LINE BEHIND ME WILL GET THEIR ACTS TOGETHER - PERHAPS A LITTLE CUNNINGLY-POSITIONED MISTLETOE MIGHT DO THE TRICK!"
Draco laughed. "Are you going to bother telling her that she won't need to invest in any of that over-rated dead tree?"
Hermione laughed at his cynicism, and put her phone away.
"She'll be the first person I call when I walk in the door."
"And be sure to write a thank-you letter to Santa as well." Draco sarcastically threw in.
SMACK!
Hermione slapped him gently on the shoulder. "Shut up!"
The train began to slow down, pulling into Charing Cross station. A mechanical voice suddenly spoke over the loudspeaker:
"This is Charing Cross station. Change here for main line suburban rail services, British Rail and..."
Hermione turned to Draco. "...Diagon Alley. This is your stop." She stood up. "I'll walk you to the station exit. You can see the Leaky Cauldron from there."
Draco nodded.
---
Standing at the exit of the station, Hermione turned to face Draco. "You're ok from here, aren't you? Are you positive you don't need walking to the Leaky Cauldron?"
"Hermione, I don't even need to cross any roads! Will you please stop acting like a neurotic grandmother!"
"Sorry. I just don't want you to leave."
"I'll send you an owl before the end of the holidays. Maybe, if my dad doesn't kill me, we can meet up in Diagon Alley before we go back to school." Draco's stomach was feeling quite weak at the thought that in a few moments he would be seeing his father, and possibly having to handle a great deal of his wrath to make matters all the more worse.
Hermione nodded.
Draco leant forward to kiss Hermione goodbye. He pulled her closer than ever, as she stood on tiptoes to reach entirely round the back of his neck.
Draco was first to pull away, kissing Hermione affectionately on the forehead. She released him from her grasp, and smoothed his t-shirt out. He rolled his eyes in amusement.
"Neurotic grandmother. Enough said?" Hermione burst into a fit of giggles at Draco's accurate comparison.
Their hands separated, and Draco began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron, turning to wave at Hermione as he reached the door. Once she saw he was safely inside, she turned and made her way back down to the train platforms.
---
Back in familiar territory, Draco stopped a moment to breathe in his surroundings - he could almost taste the magic in the air. Across the room, two middle-aged wizards were arguing about the bar tab. Their wands were drawn, and then were throwing hexes at each other. Because the men were slightly tipsy, their aim was, to say the least, highly imprecise, and coloured sparks were darting around the room and landing on innocent customers. A couple of waiters were desperately trying to restrain the men, as more and more customers left, some with leeks freshly sprouted from their ears, and one highly-strung witch threatening to have the place shut down due to being unable to control its regulars - she was heatedly telling an extremely stressed-looking waiter that this was the third time she had left the pub in the last two weeks having been hexed, only she had never been as outraged as she was now. Her fury was understandable, Draco thought. She had turned bright green from head-to-toe, and had developed purple whiskers which protruded unattractively from her temples, chin and beneath her nose.
Dodging jagged embers of multi-coloured light, Draco approached the bartender on duty. He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out one gold galleon.
"Any chance of using your Floo terminal?"
The bartender's eyes fell onto the gleaming piece of gold in Draco's hand, and widened.
"But of course, sir."
Draco smiled smugly to himself, ecstatic to be back on wizard soil. He handed over his galleon to the bartender, and reached into the pot he held out in return. Pulling out a handful of glittering green powder, Draco threw it into the blazing fireplace.
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, Draco spoke clearly into the green flames, which arose around him. "Malfoy Manner."
He stepped into the fireplace, and bit his lip as the magical vortex carried him home.
He would be sure to savour his few moments of silence in the gyrating green realm of limbo. A nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that perhaps things would not be so calm and undisturbed when he landed at the other end...