Chapter 12 - Encounters

Draco stepped into The Three Broomsticks. It was overcrowding and thus, extremely noisy. Draco grimaced. This could damage my ears, he thought, annoyed.

"Malfoy! Over here!"

Potter.

Draco headed over and plastered a huge smirk on his face. "Not alone are you, Potter?"

Harry returned his smirk. "Speak for yourself," he answered, gulping down a Butterbeer.

"You are wearing black," Draco noted.

Harry rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "Excellent observation," he said dully.

"I must say, it doesn't suit you." Draco paused. "So, what gives?"

Harry sighed and Draco thought he saw a tear in his eyes. "Ron is dead. I'm going to his funeral afterwards," Harry muttered. "Worse still, no one knows where his body is. How can he die peacefully?"

Draco's heart stopped for a second. "Then how do you know for sure?" he questioned.

Harry's head met the table top. "Ron's arrow broke," he said, his voice muffled. As if that explains anything.

Draco arched his eyebrows. "You are not making sense, Potter," he drawled and hit him on the head.

He grunted, then sighed exasperatedly. "The Weasleys have a special clock with seven arrows - one for each child. Each arrow shows where they are at the moment. For example if Ginny is going to lunch with me - "

"I get the picture," Draco cut in. He suddenly felt surprisingly suffocated.

"I asked everyone. Nobody has a clue where Hermione is," Harry continued bitterly, frowning. "She seems to have disappeared. Come to think of it, it has almost been a year since I've seen her. You would think she would attend her best friend's funeral."

"Maybe..." Draco chose his words carefully. "Maybe she doesn't know."

Harry peered at him from behind his arms. "Do you, by any chance, know where she is?"

Warning bells rang in Draco's head. "How should I know?" he snapped. "I better get to Christmas shopping. Be seeing you you," he said abruptly and left, though he might as well had fled.

Harry stared after him. "He does sound suspicious..." he mumbled to himself.

"W-who are you?" Hermione asked, trembling with fright.

"I should be asking you that!" she claimed. "What are you doing in my son's room? He's too young to h-have..." she sputtered.

Hermione blinked at her. "We weren't doing anything. I'm Hermione Granger. You probably don't remember me. You must be Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa eyed her with suspicion, then finally shrugged. "You're Draco's girlfriend," she said, ingeniously making it sound like a statement instead of a question.

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "I have a fiancé."

Narcissa's eyes shot up in surprise. "Well then, what are you doing here in Draco's bedroom?" Her eyes suddenly turned into slits. "You better not break his heart..."

Hermione offered her a small smile. "I think you should ask Draco's father why I'm here. I got to, uh, wash up. Excuse me," she mumbled, hurrying to the bathroom.

Azura was sitting on the sink, her knees in her arms. "Spill," she demanded.

"Mrs. Malfoy. Outside," she managed, catching her breath.

Azura's eyes turned round and bright. "Really? I have never seen her before! I thought she was dead," she said excitedly.

Hermione frowned at her - or tried to, anyway - as she splashed her face with water. "Apparently not. I better get out of here in case she suspects anything. You coming?" she called over her shoulder.

The faerie cast her a gloomy look. "Young Master Malfoy forbids me to go out."

Hermione raised her right eyebrow and paused for a while, then left. She received quite a shock outside. Draco's bedroom was sparkling bright. And guess who was wiping the desk?

"Mrs. Malfoy!" Hermione called, half-walking, half-running to the desk where her poetry lay unprotected. "Why don't you just leave this to the house elves?"

Narcissa looked shocked. "I would never dream of giving them more work. In fact, I would feel better if we pay them. I would, if Luce allowed me to."

Luce? Hermione thought, laughing inwardly. She nodded furiously. "I'm all about giving the house elves freedom."

Narcissa beamed. "My child, it looks like we have something in common after all."

"Sir! Sir, please stop and look at this. It will only take a second," an old beggar promised from behind him. Draco sighed and glanced at the clock that hung on one of the shops. He ought to be getting home but he stopped anyway for he pitied the old beggar that has been following him for the past half hour. Hermione's rubbing on me, he thought wryly.

The beggar gave him a toothy grin and Draco could see, in disgust, at least twelve teeth missing. The beggar held out a ring. It was perfect. Just like Hermione, Draco thought, taking the ring from the beggar to inspect.

The ring was a simple gold band with tiny red gems around it. It suited Hermione in every way. Simple but a definite classic.

Draco looked up from the ring to the beggar. He made up his mind to get it for Hermione. Draco looked around in vain. It seemed that the beggar had disappeared.

He entered the silent house. Where is everybody? he wondered. He opened the door to his bedroom, hoping against hope that Hermione was still asleep so that he could avoid having her question him about his whereabouts.

Draco's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He rubbed his eyes, hard, to make sure he was not hallucinating.

Hermione was sitting in front of the vanity table, gazing into the mirror as if indirectly looking at somebody. Which happens to be my mother, Draco thought, amazed.

Narcissa stood behind Hermione, holding a comb, obviously intending to comb Hermione's hair. They were chatting excitedly like old friends and every few seconds, they would giggle non-stop.

Maybe they are gossiping, Draco mused, slamming the door to announce his arrival.

Both of them looked over, startled. Hermione jumped an inch on the chair while Narcissa simply blushed, looking guilty.

"Mother, I told you not to come in," he said calmly. To his annoyance, Narcissa whispered something to Hermione and Hermione widened her eyes and nodded several times. To add, they erupted into giggles again.

"Draco," Hermione said sweetly. "You shouldn't have came in. You interrupted our girl talk."

Narcissa nodded in agreement and her eyes twinkled. Draco had to admit it was his first time seeing his mother so cheerful ever since they left St. Mungo.

Narcissa cocked her ear to one side. "I think Luce is calling me. We'll talk later," Narcissa promised, mostly to Hermione. As she passed by Draco, she whispered to him. "She's priceless. Don't let her go."

That night, Hermione finally allowed Draco to sleep on the bed with her ("Keep your pants on," Hermione ordered.) for she pitied him for sleeping on the couch. Draco charmed the ceiling to look like the night sky. They gazed at the silvery moon and twinkling stars in comfortable silence, each thinking thoughtfully.

"What did you say to my Mother to make her smile like that?" Draco asked softly

Hermione let out a small giggle. "We-ell... we were talking about... you know..."

"I don't"

"Well, men," Hermione said, as if it was obvious.

Draco turned his head so that he faced Hermione. "Men?" he repeated with that this-is-dumb look on his face.

Hermione, too, turned to him. "Yes, men. Don't you talk about your 'conquests'?" she said, making invisible quotation marks in the air with her hands.

He gave her another look, only this time he looked confused. "Why would I do that?" he asked, and paused. "Maybe when I get my first."

Hermione shot him a surprised look. "You're a virgin?" she asked incredulously.

"What's wrong with that?" he wanted to know, for he was feeling insulted.

'Kind of a shock since you're a sex mag - " Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth.

Draco smirked at her. "You think I'm sexy?"

"I was describing Tom Felton," she muttered in vain.

What the heck, Draco thought and his hands reached out and cupped her face. His lips gently brushed against her lips. Hermione responded by hesitantly placing her arms around his neck.

They kissed.