Chapter 7- Explanations and Weather
"Good," Malfoy said, sounding surprised but relieved. Hermione looked into his eyes again and almost gasped in shock. They were once again swirling grey clouds; none of the emotions she had just seen were present. She tilted her head slightly and allowed herself to stare some more.
His eyes were grey, no doubt. But there were flecks of light grey and dark grey mixed in. Hermione marveled over the almost charcoal colored flecks when she remembered whose eyes she was looking at.
Malfoy said, "Good," again and dropped his hands. Hermione shivered a tiny bit; his hands had been surprisingly warm on her arms.
"Right. I will have Raldy transfer your items to a different room," Draco stated. He saw the questioning look Hermione was giving him and sniggered. "Well, Granger, I would like to be back in my own bed. You know how it is."
Wait, does he mean I know what his bed is like? Or that I know what it feels like to come back to my own bed? Why do I always get so confused around him?
Draco was still talking, oblivious to the fact that Hermione was not paying attention. However the next thing he said brought her concentration back to him. "How much?" she asked in amazement.
"One hundred and twenty galleons a week," he responded, glaring at her. "No more, Granger. I could get someone to do this work for me for much less, but I am paying you for your loyalty and secrecy."
"One hundred and twenty galleons?" Hermione asked again, feeling a little faint.
"Yes, Granger. Do you want me to repeat it again?" Malfoy asked, annoyed.
"No… I just... Right, one hundred and twenty galleons a week," Hermione confirmed. One hundred and twenty galleons a week! That is more than I make in three weeks back at the Ministry! Why can't the Ministry pay as much as Malfoy… I wish…
"You can begin tomorrow," Malfoy said. "I will have Raldy escort you to your room when the guests leave. Now I must go back to the Hall. See you there." With this, Malfoy turned around and left Hermione shocked in the den for the second time within two days.
Hermione reacted the same way and leaned up against the desk. I can't believe I agreed to help Malfoy… Guests… Oh no! I am going to have to explain this to Ron and Harry! Ginny will be calm enough… She has always been more understanding than the boys… Really… Oh dear, how am I going to explain this? I guess just straight out tell them… Ron will probably turn bright red, threaten to kill Malfoy and have to be held down by Ginny… Harry will go very quiet and mutter under his breath assuming we can't hear… Then he will stand up abruptly and go for a walk to get his anger under control… He was always better at handling situations than Ron…
Hermione stood back up, straightening her dress and threw her shoulders back. She marched out of the den, promptly got lost, and had to ask a passing house elf to show her back to the banquet.
* * * * *
"Well, where did you go?" Ron asked Hermione, as soon as she sat back down at the Gryffindor table. Hermione ignored him, picked up her fork, and continued to eat the pasta she had previously abandoned.
"Mione?" Ron questioned. "Where did you go?"
Hermione continued to disregard him and took a long sip from her drink.
"Mione! Tell me where the hell you were!" Ron yelled, letting his anger get the better of him.
"Ron, calm down. I was…" Hermione finally acknowledged him and started to explain the situation. She stopped, however, trying to think of an excuse Ron would believe for staying at the Malfoy Manor. Perhaps I could tell him I am going on holiday… No, he knows my money situation… I could tell him I am interested in learning about owls… No, that is just stupid… Actually, this is just stupid… If he can't understand my reasons for staying here then that is his problem…
"Mione, you can tell us," Ginny broke in, watching her friend's face.
"I know. Actually I was talking to Malfoy about the rest of my time off from work. He is going to employ me here… I am going to work at the Manor and help him sort out belongings," Hermione said softly. She turned to Ron and saw that her prediction was correct.
"You're what?" he shouted. "You are going to work for… Malfoy?"
"Yes, Ron," Hermione answered.
"Alright," said Harry calmly. He took a sip of his drink and continued. "I expect he is paying you well…"
"Yes, very well," Hermione responded, amazed that Harry was taking the news so well.
"You're working for Malfoy?" Ron asked again. His face was the telltale crimson.
"Yes, Ron," Hermione replied, exasperated. "Should I say it again?"
"Why the hell do you want to work for that son of a-"
"Because, Ron, he is paying me very well for my services, I have nothing else to do, and… And he needs my help," Hermione finished.
"That… That… That…" Ron could not seem to think of a word strong enough to describe Malfoy. "Where is he?"
"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, knowing very well what the answer would be.
"Yes. I am going to make that lousy, low-life scumbag regret the day he was born," Ron raged, standing up and looking around the room with narrowed eyes. "The nerve of him to ask you, of all people. I'll show him… It's high time I had a little chat with Malfoy to let him know just how I feel about him and his family."
"Ron," scolded Ginny, who had been quiet until this moment. "Don't you dare."
Ron looked at his younger sister, who was staring up at him with dark eyes. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked, sounding very childish indeed.
"I have one word for you, Ron. Mum," Ginny answered, smirking.
Ron's face went even redder than it had been. "Well then… Hermione, you cannot work for him. I will not allow it."
"And just who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do!" Hermione shot back, standing up so that she wouldn't have to look so far up to yell at Ron. "I am a fully grown witch, Ron. I will not let you tell me what to do!"
"Fine. Embarrass yourself and do what Malfoy wants," Ron spat. "I'm not going to stand around and watch you do it." With that, Ron turned on his heel and marched out of the Hall.
"Well," Hermione said, sitting back down in her seat. She looked at Harry and Ginny. "That went really well."
"Mione, don't worry about Ron," Ginny declared. "He is a Weasley male. All Weasley males have horrid temperaments."
"Hey! I heard that!" George leaned over, looking at his sister with mock hurt written on his face. "And I do not have a bad temper! Right, Val?"
Hermione watched Val, who she hadn't noticed before, put her arm around George's back and wink at the group. "Of course not, George!" She said this in a very serious tone that fooled no one.
George turned to face Val and kissed her quickly on the lips. Val blushed and looked back to her food. "Thank you, Val, for supporting me in this undoubtedly unfair accusation," George declared. He slipped his hand around her waist, squeezed lightly, and turned back to his food. They really like each other… Wonder if George is going to be the next one to walk down the aisle… I would have never imagined George to act like that in public… Quite cute really… Val can certainly blush like any Weasley…
"Well, Ron, at least, has a bad temper," Harry said, looking up from his dinner. "Give him time and he'll get used to it. I'm sure he will apologize by the time we go back to the Burrow."
"Actually, I am going to be living here while I am working," Hermione told him.
"Oh," was Harry's brilliant answer.
"Mione, are you sure you are doing the right thing?" asked Ginny. Somehow, this question did not offend Hermione coming from Ginny. If Ron had asked it, though, Hermione would have undoubtedly been angered.
"Yes," she answered quietly. "I know that you don't agree with me, but he really needs my help. I need to help him on this."
"Alright," said Harry and Ginny together. They looked at each other and laughed. Lately they seemed to be able to finish each other's sentences. It was getting kind of scary.
Well… I am glad that is over… I was right about Ron's reaction… Get red and threaten… Harry was surprising though… He seems to almost… Accept Malfoy I guess… Ginny is a doll though… I need to treat her to dinner with my salary when I am done here… Hermione joined back into the lively discussion Harry and Ginny were having and argued pleasantly about the proper shelf life of mulled mead.
* * * * *
Hermione sat down in a forest green chair with a groan and closed her eyes. She sat for a moment, enjoying the feeling of relaxation. The Weasleys and Harry had left; Ron had apologized (Rather weakly… I bet Ginny made him…), and she was waiting for Raldy to show her to her room. She was exhausted.
"Hello, Hermione."
Hermione jumped and looked around quickly, scared for a moment. Her eyes rested on Remus Lupin, who had walked in without Hermione noticing. She smiled at him and returned the greeting, "Hello, Professor Lupin."
Lupin walked over to a chair near Hermione's and groaned slightly as he sat down. He picked up the silver pillow. It immediately turned red and gold. He held the pillow up to his nose and breathed in to enjoy the scent.
"Hermione, you are no longer my student, you don't have to call me Professor," he said with a small grin.
"I'm sorry, but I'll probably always think of you as my professor. I just can't help it," she told him with a laugh. "You always were my favorite DADA professor."
"Hermione, your flattery won't help you get an A+ anymore! I can't give you any grades at all!" he joked. "DADA? Too lazy to say the full name?"
"Yes, I guess so. Professor, why haven't you left yet? We must be the only ones here…"
Lupin looked as calm and composed as usual and replied, "Well, I was just going to ask you the same question. Why did you not leave with Ron and Harry? I saw them leave a few minutes ago."
"Actually, Professor, I am staying here for a while," Hermione said, "helping Draco."
"That is very brave of you, Hermione. I have no doubt that one of your friends might have had something to say about that topic," he laughed. "I do remember one friend of yours, in particular, having quite a hard time suppressing his anger."
"Yes, Ron was not happy, that's for sure," Hermione agreed, eyes narrowing slightly. Then she remembered that Ron was gone and Lupin was there. "How are you Professor? Are you enjoying your new position at Hogwarts?"
"Ah yes, thank you for asking. Just last week I was letting a group of third years take on their first boggart. It reminded me of when you took your exam. If I am correct, your boggart told you that you failed all your classes. Anyway, Mr. Filch found one in an old shoe someone had left behind in a dungeon. Quite a foul shoe, I don't know how it was not discovered until recently."
Hermione laughed for a moment. He is obviously enjoying his new job… Protection Against Dark Animals… PADA… Honestly, they choose the worst names for the classes… I wish he had started to teach again while I was still there… I bet it is a fascinating class… Almost exactly like our Defense Against the Dark Arts class… I can see why he wouldn't want to teach that position again…
"Sometimes very obvious things escape from our view, Professor," Hermione said, matter-of-factly.
"Very true. Well, Hermione, I must be going. I just saw you sitting here and thought it would be lovely to talk to you again," Lupin said, rising from his chair. He set the pillow back down and it immediately turned back to its original silver color. "And I was correct; it was lovely to talk to you. Please come and visit me soon at Hogwarts. You are always welcome."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione stood too, and hugged Lupin on an impulse. She was surprised about how thin he felt. She stepped back and realized, with a sudden jolt, that he looked quite old and grey. "And if you ever want to have a day at the Ministry, don't hesitate," she added, concerned for his health.
Lupin smiled, walked over to fireplace, threw in some powder, and disappeared with a flash of flames.
"Well, wasn't that a heart-warming show," came a drawling voice from behind Hermione.
She closed her eyes briefly. Alright Hermione… You can do this… Damn right I can… It is time I get over this Malfoy fear… He is just a horrible person… Nothing that happens is your fault… She turned around and smiled, mostly to appear confident rather than show her friendliness.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said, smile glued in place. "Did you bring Raldy to show me to my room?"
"Actually, Granger, I will show it to you. Follow me," he declared as he walked out of the room.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this," Hermione muttered as she followed Draco from the room.
"Did you say something?" he asked, turning around to glare at her. "I can't hear what you are saying when you mumble like that."
"What? Oh no, I didn't say anything," Hermione replied, blushing slightly.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes and continued down the hallway.
Hermione followed, still repeating her mantra, but more quietly. She kept her eyes focused on Malfoy's feet. Or really, his shoes. He has nice shoes… Ginny always says that shoes are important… She says…
"Hot shoes means a hot guy…" Hermione said aloud without thinking. She promptly clamped her hand over her mouth, horrified. Please let me have said that quietly… Please let me have just imagined that I said it… Please just let me have not said that…
Malfoy paused for a moment. Oh no… he heard me… But he did not appear to have heard Hermione; he turned to his right and opened a door. He turned back to Hermione and gestured for her to enter the room. She did and her mouth fell open.
The room was just as, if not more, beautiful than Draco's own.
Hermione took a step forward and looked around incredulously. It was a square room, with three large windows that gave the room a view of the countryside. They almost covered an entire wall, but the draperies kept the focus of the room inside rather than outside. Where Draco's had been a cooler room, this one was warm and welcoming. The green and silver of the master suite had created a perfectly lovely room, but it was cold and impersonal. This room, Hermione's room, was gold and beige.
On the wall opposing the windows stood a gold four-poster bed. The linens were all beige and, Hermione discovered later, made of silk protected by an anti-mess charm. Next to the giant bed was a night table, the perfect size for a book and a glass of water. There was a small gold lamp on the table that cast a golden glow around the room.
In one corner of the room was a desk. Sitting on the desk was a very fine, luxurious white quill and a bottle of deep brown ink. There were a few rolls of parchment for taking notes. This room had obviously been redecorated for Hermione. In addition to the desk, there were two giant bookshelves filled with ancient books. She walked over to the bookshelves and ran her finger over the spine of the books. She felt a shiver run down her own spine as she could practically feel the old age knowledge of the books seeping out of their pages. In front of the bookshelves was a chair and ottoman. These two pieces of furniture looked very comfortable and were also made of the same white silk fabric of the bed. There was a tiny table next to the chair.
Hermione turned around to face the door, a smile on her face. She wanted to express her gratitude for being able to sleep in such a gorgeous room.
"Malfoy, thank y-"
But Malfoy was already gone. Hermione ran out into the hallway and saw Malfoy's retreating back.
"Malfoy!"
He turned around slowly, a look of suspicion on his face. "What is it, Granger?"
"Um, good night," she said softly, sure that he wouldn't be able to hear her and just walk away.
He stared at her for a moment. Brown met grey. "Good night, Granger." He continued to walk down the hallway and turned to the right, disappearing into the Manor.
* * * * *
Hermione stood outside the kitchen nervously. Am I supposed to just go in there? Is Malfoy going to be in there? This is my first day at… Work, I guess… Should I have dressed differently? More work-appropriately? Hermione looked down at her clothes, suddenly sure that she should have worn different clothes. All she had at the Manor were the outfits that Ginny Weasley had lent her, the Muggle clothes. She was wearing a pair of dark blue boot cut jeans, black boots, a black belt, and a lightweight sea green blouse. As usual, her diamond pendent adorned her neck.
"Miss Granger? What are you doing here?" asked a voice about waist level. "Why are you not eating in the dining room with Master Malfoy?"
"Um," she answered the house elf intelligently.
"Follow me, Miss. I will lead you there."
Hermione followed the elf, amazed at the number of house elves there were in the Manor. There were at least five; she had seen glimpses of them scurrying around the Manor and they were always willing to point her in the right direction.
She was led to a door with the Malfoy crest on it. The dragon was sleeping with furrows of smoke issuing from its nose with every exhale. She took a deep breath and entered the room.
It was a long room with a long dark table. Malfoy was sitting at one end of the table. At least, I suppose it's Malfoy… He's hidden behind that Daily Prophet… He must read it often… Well, it is good to keep up with your knowledge of the wizarding world… Hermione smiled. Harry and Ginny would kill me if they knew I just thought that…
She entered the room and got ready to sit down next to Malfoy, as it was the only other seat with silverware. She was just about to pull the chair out when it slid out by itself. Cool charm… I should ask for it and charm my own chairs at home…
She sat down and adjusted her chair to the table. Malfoy still did not acknowledge her presence.
"Morning, Malfoy," Hermione ventured, feeling brave. She'd had a lovely shower and felt ready to take on the world
No answer.
"Malfoy?"
No answer.
"Malfoy!"
"Good morning, Granger. There is no need to shout; I heard you the first time," came Malfoy's voice from behind the Prophet.
Hermione glared at the back of the paper. The weather page was moving around. A warm front was going to come in the next few days. "Well then, why didn't you answer me the first time?" she asked, feeling her good mood starting to crumble away.
Malfoy's voice answered, "No reason."
Hermione glowered at the paper. It was very sunny in Dublin. Hermione looked at the food in front of her and grabbed a piece of toast. She reached for the butter and marmalade and spread them on generously. Need my strength to deal with this idiot for today…
"So…" said Hermione. A rolling red line moved across the page. There was going to be a thunderstorm that night.
"Yes, Granger?" Malfoy asked, still behind his paper.
It was 15 degrees Celsius in London.
"Dammit, Malfoy, are you going to put down that paper and talk to me like a civilized person or ignore me like a toad?" she exploded.
For a moment, there was no movement. The barometric pressure would be high in the coming days.
Slowly, Malfoy set down his paper, looking pointedly at Hermione. He folded the paper, took a drink from his cup, and stared at her. He was obviously trying to make her feel uncomfortable.
Unfortunately, it was working. She squirmed under his stare and looked out the window across the room from her. It was sunny outside. Those damn weather people never know what they are talking about…
"So, Malfoy…" Why did I make him put down his paper? We were doing just fine without talking? Stupid idea…
Blink, blink.
"Um, how are your friends from Hogwarts?" Hermione tried, rather lamely.
He stared at her.
"Crabbe?" she asked, feeling very stupid indeed.
"Dead," Malfoy said in a cool voice.
Dammit! I knew that! Stupid, Hermione… Think!
"What about Goyle?" she questioned, before she could stop herself. She cringed, already knowing the coming answer.
"Dead."
"What about… Weren't you friends with Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione asked, sinking to an all-time low. Of all the people that I definitely do not care about… Pansy is probably the worst… I hate her… She made fun of me all throughout school… But if asking about her will relieve this tension…
"Prison," Malfoy answered. He was still staring at her. He broke his gaze for a moment, to take another swig of his drink. He put the cup back down and stared at her, smirking slightly.
"Well, I guess I'll just tell you about my friends then, shall I?" Hermione said.
She saw Draco raise an eyebrow and look at her skeptically. She ignored the look. "Well, Ginny, Ginny Weasley you know, she is working in Diagon Alley, at a clothing shop. She just loves working with fashion! I swear, that girl knows more about clothes than any other person alive! Harry is playing Quidditch for the Cannons. He's really helped them improve. They changed their motto, you know! Back to 'We shall conquer.' And Ron is going to be the DADA professor next year."
Malfoy looked at her, curiously this time. It was a startling change from the usual bored expression he wore on his face. "Dada?" he asked her.
"Well, I guess you could call it that…" Hermione answered, a little confused because no one called it Dada. It was always Defense Against the Dark Arts or DADA, pronouncing every letter, not just the sounds.
"I did not know that a Weasley would be interested in art," Draco said, slowly bring a piece of bacon to his mouth.
"Art?" inquired Hermione. Where the hell did he get art out of DADA?
"Art. The dada was a European artistic and literary movement that flouted conventional aesthetic and cultural values by producing works marked by nonsense, travesty, and incongruity. 1916 to 1923. Dada, it means hobbyhorse in French," Malfoy stated as though he were saying that two plus two equaled four. "I didn't know that a Weasley could be so… No, I don't think cultured is the right word… He is a Wea-"
"No, Ron is being a DADA professor at Hogwarts. As in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione interrupted him, not wanting him to finish the sentence.
"Oh," Draco said, adopting the bored expression on his face again.
"Didn't you know it was called DADA?" Hermione asked, surprised that he hadn't known what she was talking about.
Malfoy inspected her closely, his grey eyes analyzing her face. "No," he said simply.
Hermione was silent for a while. She ate the rest of her piece of toast and reached for another.
Malfoy picked up his paper again.
"How did you know about that dada art movement?" The question burst out of Hermione before she could stop herself from asking.
Malfoy slowly lowered the paper so that he could see her face. "I like art." He moved the paper back up and continued to read the daily headlines.
Hermione sat still. There was going to be a complete change in weather in the coming weeks.
* * * * *
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Author's Notes:
Short ANs for today. Just to let you all know, this is a transition chapter. The transition between Hermione's old life and her new job. Transition chapters are notoriously hard to write.
I have heard writing being compared to jogging. The first quarter of the jog is easy. The second is hell. The third is better and the fourth is the easiest. I have officially entered the second stage of jogging.
Since you all LOVE to review, I am going to make it easy on you. You can just cut and paste the following and fill in the blanks! Yay!
My favorite part was:
My favorite line was:
My least favorite part was:
I think this should happen:
One thing I would change is:
I love Molly because:
Ha ha ha, I am just kidding about the last one! Big thanks go out to Julie, who beta-ed this chapter for me! Also, to answer the question I posted in the last chapter- I am Val. I had to add another part about George and Val in this chapter, just for kicks. So yay, review please, and I hope that you enjoyed it!
Love,
MOLLY
