************************************************************************
Day 2, December 24th
************************************************************************
The room was quite small in length and width, but the ceiling reached really high. All around the room were shelves, covered in food. All kinds of food. Some were cooked, some raw, some salty, some sugary, some spiced. Fruits and vegetables of all colors, red, blue, yellow, orange. Too many to actually try and count them all, even to pass time.
In the middle of this havoc, were two cushions, about 2 meters away from each other, on which were sited the two most unlikely persons to be found in the same room since their 1st year at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
"Your turn," the blond man said in boring tone.
It had been 3 hours, 5 minutes and 36 seconds – they had both been counting – that they were trapped in here.
******************************FLASHBACK******************************
"JUDE!" yelled a clearly upset Hermione, hammering the door with her closed fists, "Open the frigging door immediately! And give us back our wands!!"
She grabbed the door handle and shook it vigorously. It didn't even budge.
She groaned loudly and slid to the ground, head bend in resignation.
"I give up"
He chuckled a bit, "About time, I thought you were just about to start throwing yourself at the door to try and open it".
She shot her head up and glared at him.
"How can you be so calm?" she sighed in frustration, "We are locked, without our wands in a place..." she stopped herself in mid-sentence, looking around. "What is this place anyways?"
"It's a Room of Requirement,» he simply stated.
Hermione's eyes widened at that statement.
"Really? I thought there only was one in Hogwarts. I guess it's packed with food because I was dead hungry when passing next to it, and you were too, right?" she asked.
He nodded.
"He had all of this figured out, didn't he? Nasty little brat. He is too smart for his own good. We have created a monster," she sighed.
Resting her head against the dark gray wall behind her, she looked at the ceiling, her glare so violent she could have managed to pierce a hole through the wooden foundations showing.
**************************END OF FLASHBACK**************************
She closed her eyes for a second, hoping it had all been a bad dream. Opening her shadowy eyelashes, Hermione groaned. All was too real be a nightmare.
"My turn, hey... So... Have you ever had a real relationship with anyone, Draco Malfoy?" she must have sounded like some old granny asking a kid if he wanted another cookie. "More than a week's time, I mean" she clarified after a short pause of thinking.
He raised an eyebrow at the question, still undisturbed as ever, his face still.
"No"
She choked on the piece of chocolate she had been swallowing.
"At least that's straight forward," she coughed, trying to get that little chocolate square out of her throat, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
He leaned his back a little more against the cold, stony wall behind him, stretching his legs in front of him. His arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her, amused at her clumsiness.
"You never said I was supposed to be subtle in answering your questions. But, what about you, Mrs. Granger?" he retorted, using a rather annoyed tone that showed his hate for 20 questions. Unfortunately, they hadn't find anything else to pass there time in the food-stuffed room.
She scowled at him for a couple of seconds before sighing in exasperation.
"I dated Fred a while ago, but it didn't work out. We remained good friends though..." she said simply, blushing a little.
Malfoy snorted at this revelation.
"The Weasley twin? Come on... You're not even kidding, are you? ... What about... Potter?" he spat the name.
She dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.
"Nah, I could never date Harry, he is like my older brother. Though he is Jude's father figure..." she let her words sink in.
A flash of anger passed through Draco's already cloudy gray eyes. He grunted
"Good Merlin, I have one son and he idolizes Harry bloody Potter. Great, just wonderful," he drawled.
She smirked widely.
"Harry is my best friend. Plus he is really good with kids. I don't think anyone could have done better at raising him than..."
"I could have," he interrupted, glaring at her.
"I was still 17 when he was born! What was I supposed to do, come over to you and say: 'by the way, here is your son, we'll have to bring him up together. Care to show me my room?' " she replied sarcastically.
He opened his mouth to reply something, but soon found out he couldn't think of anything to throw back at her. His brows frowning, he humphed, sounding much like a pampered kid.
"Maybe we should try the door again," he proposed, helping himself up. He couldn't help but feel her smirking at the back of his head.
During the first hour, they had tried every five minutes to open the door. The second one, they hadn't even bothered. That is to explain the hope Draco Malfoy had when trying to open the door.
As his fingers pushed the handle, expecting it to stay locked, he stumbled forward, barely acknowledging the fact that he was indeed free.
************************************************************************
"It wasn't my fault!" the boy raised his hands in a protective gesture in front of him, as if blocking the blame he was accused of.
"Jude!" Hermione exclaimed.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously at her son. They were all sitting at the dinning table in the living room, Draco and Hermione both facing Jude, a barely contained anger at their offspring.
"Okay, it was wrong of me, and I should have never done it. Happy?" he said meekly.
"Quite, now tell us WHAT you were THINKING when concocted that stupid plan of yours, if you were even thinking at all!" she shot a death glare in those innocent – yeah right – gray eyes, stood up and stomped towards the door, "I'll be in the shower".
A couple of seconds later, the sound of a door slamming made both males wince a little.
Draco cleared his throat, attempting to make it sound reproachful. It didn't work, though, Jude only smiled.
Inwardly, Malfoy was cursing at himself. 'I don't know anything at bloody fatherhood, and the brat is too well aware of that' he thought. What was he supposed to do now? His own father would have already hexed him into oblivion, but he was not about to do that to his son. Though he had to punish him of some sort, didn't he? Draco had hated being punished when he was a kid – like all kids – but he even more. Albeit the fact that it was necessary when he thought about it – at times.
"Once a man starts to suspect his father maybe was right, it's generally because his own son is starting to give him wrong," he murmured, although loudly enough for his son to hear.
"André Birabeau"
Draco's gaze had been fixed on his joint hands on the table. He suddenly looked up, bending his head to the side in astonishment at his son.
"What, isn't it him who said that?"
All Jude's Potion's teacher could do was give a slight nod.
"I guess he is right. Was, I should say, he died in 1974, if I remember correctly. You have a right to punish me. Of course by this I am not advising you to do so as it is clearly unfair to take advantage of a poor defenseless 11 years-old and..."
"I'll have you clean the dungeons, without your wand, I believe," Draco smirked as he uttered that.
He watched his son's face twist in terror at the situation he had just put himself in. He had only tried to be a smart ass so he wouldn't get punished. He groaned.
"This is so unfair"
His father raised an eyebrow at him.
"Next time you feel like playing matchmaker, think before you act. I don't know how I can that through you thick head, but Granger and I are never going to fall madly in love together," he detached the syllables of 'together', as if talking to a monkey.
It was true. Malfoys and Muggleborns are just not meant to be together. It was already a living miracle that Jude was alive, but the chances of him and Granger married happily ever after were below zero.
"You guys fight like an old married couple 24/7 and you are trying to make me believe that there is nothing going on? I might be a kid, but I'm not stupid, you know," Jude said, looking hurt.
He had tried, but he didn't want to admit to himself that he had failed. Why should his friends be so happy with both parents, and he could only have one at a time? He knew he was being selfish but... He felt as if his parents had divorced, though without them being happily together first. It just didn't fit.
Sighing deeply, Jude lifted himself lazily off his chair.
"I need to finish sending my Christmas card to everyone"
He parted, leaving a thoughtful Draco Malfoy behind him.
************************************************************************
That night, in the cold and lonely place the man was using as a room, he did not know how to find sleep. He was out of Dreamless potion and too lazy to make some at midnight anyways. Plus, insomnia was a good time to start think about things, and put them in order.
Jude.
That something to think about. He had bought him a new racing broom for Christmas, he hoped he'd like it. On and all, things were going better than he had ever expected with his son. The initial shock had been to hate him – Jude only reminded him of one night he had spent with Granger. Though he had grown afterwards to like the kid pretty much, close to love him, it should take some more time.
He had never loved anyone in his life, which explained the hard time he had to feel anything for anyone. His books clearly showed that, with explanations of feelings like pain, death, misery, but never friendship or love. You write what you know, right?
Granger.
How had it happened again? He could still remember receiving a letter during his summer before 7th year, a letter telling him that all students were to report back to Hogwarts, for safety, as the War had just began a couple of weeks earlier. He had apparated to Hogsmeade as fast as he could, his father did not need to know about this.
That was in July, the beginning of it. Classes started normally in September. Some time in November, during Prefect duty, he had run into Hermione, who was out for the same purpose. He could not clearly recall how they had ended up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, making violent passionate love to each other.
The War had ended on December the 8th, with Harry Potter scarcely defeating Voldemort at Hogwarts' gates. After that, all were sent home on early vacation and 7th year students were exempted from NEWTS and 5th years from OWLS.
Now that he thought about it, Granger hadn't come back after their month- long holiday, because of her pregnancy, he assumed. Afterwards, Viktor Krum had died in May the year after, he remembered from the newspapers, on a mission chasing resisting Death Eaters, and Jude was born the following month.
He had not heard of her for the next 10 years, and there she was, back into her life. Of course, he wasn't about to say he hated her, he wasn't a teenager anymore, but strongly disliked her was close to it. She was just so annoying, the way she always had an answer to everything, how she could never keep her mouth shut. She was apart from the other women in many ways. As some females differentiated themselves from other by looks, she did by her opinionated mouth.
She was indeed really annoying.
Then how come he couldn't keep himself from thinking about her?
Draco rolled over on the other side, trying for the hundredth time to get some sleep. But he still couldn't help erase that picture of Hermione (since when had she become Hermione? Damn her) in his mind.
'I'm acting like a hormonal pimply teenager,' he thought to himself.
'This is the End, beautiful friend, you've fallen into the enemy's hands' was hammering in his thoughts, by the part of his brain that was called his conscience.
Although she wasn't his enemy anymore. His conscience couldn't be wrong, or else it wouldn't be called one. Was the enemy the feelings he had never experienced nor was given before?
************************************************************************
A/N: *wipes sweat from forehead* I spent a lot of time on this chappie, and it is quite long, so I hope quality will match quantity!!! Sorry if it took me longer to update, I was quite busy with school, plus I was sick so it took me twice as much effort to concentrate as I couldn't even swallow properly and my nose kept running... *sob* Poor me...! *twitch*
ANYHOW, there were lost of references in this chappie, because I felt like it... *cough* Yes, I am crazy.
---Once a man starts to suspect his father maybe was right, it's generally because his own son is starting to give him wrong--- That was translated from French: « Lorsqu'un homme commence à soupçonner que son père avait peut-être raison, c'est généralement que son propre fils commence lui donner tort. » Andre Birabeau (1890 - 1974) said that, he was a French dramatist and humorist.
--- making violent passionate love--- Took that line form 'Emma' by Jane Austen, except it had a completely different meaning in her book, but thought it would fit here... Dunno why.
--- December the 8th--- That is the date of John Lennon's death. He was shot 5 times at 10:50 in Manhattan on that day, by Mark David Chapman. As a Beatles' fan, December 8th is international mourning day, and I thought it would contrast with the feeling of freedom from Voldemort's death to make him fall on that particular day.
---This is the End, beautiful friend--- From the song 'The End' by The Doors. Am madly in love with Jim Morrison, so please excuse me. Just thought it would be a cool thing to have that in there, dunno why.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!!
Day 2, December 24th
************************************************************************
The room was quite small in length and width, but the ceiling reached really high. All around the room were shelves, covered in food. All kinds of food. Some were cooked, some raw, some salty, some sugary, some spiced. Fruits and vegetables of all colors, red, blue, yellow, orange. Too many to actually try and count them all, even to pass time.
In the middle of this havoc, were two cushions, about 2 meters away from each other, on which were sited the two most unlikely persons to be found in the same room since their 1st year at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
"Your turn," the blond man said in boring tone.
It had been 3 hours, 5 minutes and 36 seconds – they had both been counting – that they were trapped in here.
******************************FLASHBACK******************************
"JUDE!" yelled a clearly upset Hermione, hammering the door with her closed fists, "Open the frigging door immediately! And give us back our wands!!"
She grabbed the door handle and shook it vigorously. It didn't even budge.
She groaned loudly and slid to the ground, head bend in resignation.
"I give up"
He chuckled a bit, "About time, I thought you were just about to start throwing yourself at the door to try and open it".
She shot her head up and glared at him.
"How can you be so calm?" she sighed in frustration, "We are locked, without our wands in a place..." she stopped herself in mid-sentence, looking around. "What is this place anyways?"
"It's a Room of Requirement,» he simply stated.
Hermione's eyes widened at that statement.
"Really? I thought there only was one in Hogwarts. I guess it's packed with food because I was dead hungry when passing next to it, and you were too, right?" she asked.
He nodded.
"He had all of this figured out, didn't he? Nasty little brat. He is too smart for his own good. We have created a monster," she sighed.
Resting her head against the dark gray wall behind her, she looked at the ceiling, her glare so violent she could have managed to pierce a hole through the wooden foundations showing.
**************************END OF FLASHBACK**************************
She closed her eyes for a second, hoping it had all been a bad dream. Opening her shadowy eyelashes, Hermione groaned. All was too real be a nightmare.
"My turn, hey... So... Have you ever had a real relationship with anyone, Draco Malfoy?" she must have sounded like some old granny asking a kid if he wanted another cookie. "More than a week's time, I mean" she clarified after a short pause of thinking.
He raised an eyebrow at the question, still undisturbed as ever, his face still.
"No"
She choked on the piece of chocolate she had been swallowing.
"At least that's straight forward," she coughed, trying to get that little chocolate square out of her throat, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
He leaned his back a little more against the cold, stony wall behind him, stretching his legs in front of him. His arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her, amused at her clumsiness.
"You never said I was supposed to be subtle in answering your questions. But, what about you, Mrs. Granger?" he retorted, using a rather annoyed tone that showed his hate for 20 questions. Unfortunately, they hadn't find anything else to pass there time in the food-stuffed room.
She scowled at him for a couple of seconds before sighing in exasperation.
"I dated Fred a while ago, but it didn't work out. We remained good friends though..." she said simply, blushing a little.
Malfoy snorted at this revelation.
"The Weasley twin? Come on... You're not even kidding, are you? ... What about... Potter?" he spat the name.
She dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.
"Nah, I could never date Harry, he is like my older brother. Though he is Jude's father figure..." she let her words sink in.
A flash of anger passed through Draco's already cloudy gray eyes. He grunted
"Good Merlin, I have one son and he idolizes Harry bloody Potter. Great, just wonderful," he drawled.
She smirked widely.
"Harry is my best friend. Plus he is really good with kids. I don't think anyone could have done better at raising him than..."
"I could have," he interrupted, glaring at her.
"I was still 17 when he was born! What was I supposed to do, come over to you and say: 'by the way, here is your son, we'll have to bring him up together. Care to show me my room?' " she replied sarcastically.
He opened his mouth to reply something, but soon found out he couldn't think of anything to throw back at her. His brows frowning, he humphed, sounding much like a pampered kid.
"Maybe we should try the door again," he proposed, helping himself up. He couldn't help but feel her smirking at the back of his head.
During the first hour, they had tried every five minutes to open the door. The second one, they hadn't even bothered. That is to explain the hope Draco Malfoy had when trying to open the door.
As his fingers pushed the handle, expecting it to stay locked, he stumbled forward, barely acknowledging the fact that he was indeed free.
************************************************************************
"It wasn't my fault!" the boy raised his hands in a protective gesture in front of him, as if blocking the blame he was accused of.
"Jude!" Hermione exclaimed.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously at her son. They were all sitting at the dinning table in the living room, Draco and Hermione both facing Jude, a barely contained anger at their offspring.
"Okay, it was wrong of me, and I should have never done it. Happy?" he said meekly.
"Quite, now tell us WHAT you were THINKING when concocted that stupid plan of yours, if you were even thinking at all!" she shot a death glare in those innocent – yeah right – gray eyes, stood up and stomped towards the door, "I'll be in the shower".
A couple of seconds later, the sound of a door slamming made both males wince a little.
Draco cleared his throat, attempting to make it sound reproachful. It didn't work, though, Jude only smiled.
Inwardly, Malfoy was cursing at himself. 'I don't know anything at bloody fatherhood, and the brat is too well aware of that' he thought. What was he supposed to do now? His own father would have already hexed him into oblivion, but he was not about to do that to his son. Though he had to punish him of some sort, didn't he? Draco had hated being punished when he was a kid – like all kids – but he even more. Albeit the fact that it was necessary when he thought about it – at times.
"Once a man starts to suspect his father maybe was right, it's generally because his own son is starting to give him wrong," he murmured, although loudly enough for his son to hear.
"André Birabeau"
Draco's gaze had been fixed on his joint hands on the table. He suddenly looked up, bending his head to the side in astonishment at his son.
"What, isn't it him who said that?"
All Jude's Potion's teacher could do was give a slight nod.
"I guess he is right. Was, I should say, he died in 1974, if I remember correctly. You have a right to punish me. Of course by this I am not advising you to do so as it is clearly unfair to take advantage of a poor defenseless 11 years-old and..."
"I'll have you clean the dungeons, without your wand, I believe," Draco smirked as he uttered that.
He watched his son's face twist in terror at the situation he had just put himself in. He had only tried to be a smart ass so he wouldn't get punished. He groaned.
"This is so unfair"
His father raised an eyebrow at him.
"Next time you feel like playing matchmaker, think before you act. I don't know how I can that through you thick head, but Granger and I are never going to fall madly in love together," he detached the syllables of 'together', as if talking to a monkey.
It was true. Malfoys and Muggleborns are just not meant to be together. It was already a living miracle that Jude was alive, but the chances of him and Granger married happily ever after were below zero.
"You guys fight like an old married couple 24/7 and you are trying to make me believe that there is nothing going on? I might be a kid, but I'm not stupid, you know," Jude said, looking hurt.
He had tried, but he didn't want to admit to himself that he had failed. Why should his friends be so happy with both parents, and he could only have one at a time? He knew he was being selfish but... He felt as if his parents had divorced, though without them being happily together first. It just didn't fit.
Sighing deeply, Jude lifted himself lazily off his chair.
"I need to finish sending my Christmas card to everyone"
He parted, leaving a thoughtful Draco Malfoy behind him.
************************************************************************
That night, in the cold and lonely place the man was using as a room, he did not know how to find sleep. He was out of Dreamless potion and too lazy to make some at midnight anyways. Plus, insomnia was a good time to start think about things, and put them in order.
Jude.
That something to think about. He had bought him a new racing broom for Christmas, he hoped he'd like it. On and all, things were going better than he had ever expected with his son. The initial shock had been to hate him – Jude only reminded him of one night he had spent with Granger. Though he had grown afterwards to like the kid pretty much, close to love him, it should take some more time.
He had never loved anyone in his life, which explained the hard time he had to feel anything for anyone. His books clearly showed that, with explanations of feelings like pain, death, misery, but never friendship or love. You write what you know, right?
Granger.
How had it happened again? He could still remember receiving a letter during his summer before 7th year, a letter telling him that all students were to report back to Hogwarts, for safety, as the War had just began a couple of weeks earlier. He had apparated to Hogsmeade as fast as he could, his father did not need to know about this.
That was in July, the beginning of it. Classes started normally in September. Some time in November, during Prefect duty, he had run into Hermione, who was out for the same purpose. He could not clearly recall how they had ended up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, making violent passionate love to each other.
The War had ended on December the 8th, with Harry Potter scarcely defeating Voldemort at Hogwarts' gates. After that, all were sent home on early vacation and 7th year students were exempted from NEWTS and 5th years from OWLS.
Now that he thought about it, Granger hadn't come back after their month- long holiday, because of her pregnancy, he assumed. Afterwards, Viktor Krum had died in May the year after, he remembered from the newspapers, on a mission chasing resisting Death Eaters, and Jude was born the following month.
He had not heard of her for the next 10 years, and there she was, back into her life. Of course, he wasn't about to say he hated her, he wasn't a teenager anymore, but strongly disliked her was close to it. She was just so annoying, the way she always had an answer to everything, how she could never keep her mouth shut. She was apart from the other women in many ways. As some females differentiated themselves from other by looks, she did by her opinionated mouth.
She was indeed really annoying.
Then how come he couldn't keep himself from thinking about her?
Draco rolled over on the other side, trying for the hundredth time to get some sleep. But he still couldn't help erase that picture of Hermione (since when had she become Hermione? Damn her) in his mind.
'I'm acting like a hormonal pimply teenager,' he thought to himself.
'This is the End, beautiful friend, you've fallen into the enemy's hands' was hammering in his thoughts, by the part of his brain that was called his conscience.
Although she wasn't his enemy anymore. His conscience couldn't be wrong, or else it wouldn't be called one. Was the enemy the feelings he had never experienced nor was given before?
************************************************************************
A/N: *wipes sweat from forehead* I spent a lot of time on this chappie, and it is quite long, so I hope quality will match quantity!!! Sorry if it took me longer to update, I was quite busy with school, plus I was sick so it took me twice as much effort to concentrate as I couldn't even swallow properly and my nose kept running... *sob* Poor me...! *twitch*
ANYHOW, there were lost of references in this chappie, because I felt like it... *cough* Yes, I am crazy.
---Once a man starts to suspect his father maybe was right, it's generally because his own son is starting to give him wrong--- That was translated from French: « Lorsqu'un homme commence à soupçonner que son père avait peut-être raison, c'est généralement que son propre fils commence lui donner tort. » Andre Birabeau (1890 - 1974) said that, he was a French dramatist and humorist.
--- making violent passionate love--- Took that line form 'Emma' by Jane Austen, except it had a completely different meaning in her book, but thought it would fit here... Dunno why.
--- December the 8th--- That is the date of John Lennon's death. He was shot 5 times at 10:50 in Manhattan on that day, by Mark David Chapman. As a Beatles' fan, December 8th is international mourning day, and I thought it would contrast with the feeling of freedom from Voldemort's death to make him fall on that particular day.
---This is the End, beautiful friend--- From the song 'The End' by The Doors. Am madly in love with Jim Morrison, so please excuse me. Just thought it would be a cool thing to have that in there, dunno why.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!!