The Bachelor Chapter 11
Hermione stared up at Parvati glumly. Parvati was putting on an absolute magnificent shade of eye shadow—a shimmer, glimmer, glamorous mix between lavender and a breezy peach. Parvati stepped away from the mirror and grumbling inwardly, Hermione admitted that the girl did look nothing short of fabulous, fantastic, ferociously beautiful. It was really rather depressing.
Parvati smiled at Hermione and said, "Don't I look wonderful, Hermione, darling? Won't Draco just adore me in this oh-so-wonderful-beautiful-amazing-gorgeous thing that I have on? I am a goddess!"
Hermione agreed. Parvati was a goddess. She looked smashing. Draco suddenly came into the room and gave Parvati a huge smile. "You look fabulous, fantastic, ferociously beautiful," he said reaching over to kiss her in that nice, mushy kind of kiss that Hermione would never admit to wanting. The kind of kiss you just sighed and melted into. Who would want a stupid, romantic thing like that? But this Hermione was jealous as hell…
Hermione woke up feeling hot and sweaty. She groaned and looked over at her alarm clock, which had conspired against her during the night and conveniently hadn't gone off. Damn thing. It was already 10:00 a.m.! Making a face, Hermione dragged herself out of the bed, plodding quite ungracefully towards the bathroom. Only then did her dream hit her. Yech, had she really just dreamt about being insecure, jealous, and… ugly? Stupid subconscious was wrong! She was not jealous in the least, especially not of Parvati! Parvati who could mix peach and lavender eye shadow and come out with a shade straight from heaven? Jealous? Never!
Belching inwardly at the dream, she cleaned up and hurriedly got dressed, then belted out the doorway and raced to the living room, where the other two girls were eagerly awaiting Parvati's arrival.
"I'm excited," Blaise declared. "I want to know how he is in the sack. All this speculating, and never finding out! I can't wait!"
"Oooh, Blaise," Hannah responded with a small chuck—eh, more like a giggle, these girls couldn't quite laugh any other way—"He had to go visit Parv's parents! You honestly don't think they can find a safe place to have a go when her parents are around!"
Hermione sniffed to announce her welcome. And then sniffed again, just a wee bit louder. When neither of these times worked, Hermione decided both of them were quite deaf and barged right on into the conversation (something she would normally have considered rather rude). "I agree with Hannah," she said acidly. "It is horrid to think of them… er, consummating… while her parents are just downstairs discussing politics over a cup of nice herbal tea."
Blaise looked at Hermione with a small frown. "You did not just say 'consummate'," she finally stated.
Hermione was unnerved. "What is wrong with 'consummating'?"
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Am I going to have to tell you about the birds and the bees, too?" Blaise said with a wicked grin.
Hermione, ever the scholar, was terribly confused. "Blaise… if I said 'consummating', which I still think is an acceptable…er, way to, um, state the act, then obviously I already know about the birds and the bees. And in all accuracy, what the birds and bees do to flowers is absolutely nothing compared to… the, eh, intimate…thing…that happens between humans. In fact, it is belie—"
"Hermione. You're boring," said Hannah with a small grin.
"Yeah, seriously Miss Consummate, it's just a saying… no need to go into it, okay? We're all clear here; especially me… bet you don't know what to do with a can of yellow spray paint in bed, do you?" Blaise said, looking utterly and completely bored.
Hermione did not even want to imagine what one could do with a can of yellow spray paint while consummating. And what was wrong with that bloody word anyway? "You never told me what was wrong with 'consummate'," she said crossly, glaring at Blaise.
"Uh, except for the fact that we're talking acts of intimacy and not breeding of lab rats?" Blaise said, wiggling an eyebrow delicately.
Hermione was taken aback. She didn't think Blaise would know that many scientists, such as herself, used lab rats. Interesting. "When I refer to my lab rats, as you call them," Hermione replied haughtily, "I merely say 'breeding'. Thus I have belied your argument… in other words, Blaise… you got served."
Hermione basked in the wonderful silence that followed her little slang-moment. Oh yeah, she thought happily, it would certainly get her point across marvelously. Cracking a smirk at Blaise, she soon burst into laughter. Hannah joined in and eventually the mildly good-natured sex-fiendish Blaise joined in as well.
"That was a really good one, Hermione," Hannah said warmly. "You're the bomb, dudette!"
Hermione sincerely wished she was studying languages. Oh what a wonderful thing it would be to delve into the world of slang, something she tended not to use… hmm, the bomb. Now who had come up with that? And dudette! It was such an interesting compliment! Wishing she had a pad to jot down notes she turned towards Hannah to say something but was cut off by the slamming of a door.
Parvati marched in, a frown set on her pretty face. Hermione wondered what had gone wrong—Parvati had always liked Draco, and … lately, Hermione had been paying extra attention to Draco, and she knew that Draco had no problem with Parvati.
Nobody needed to ask Parvati, because the girl started her tirade the second she dropped her bag on the floor. "Oh, it was absolutely awful!" she cried unhappily. Blaise and Hannah and a reluctant (only because Hermione always felt awkward with this comforting-crying-people business) Hermione rushed towards her and patted her.
"What went wrong?" Hannah murmured soothingly. "I'm sure it was fine!"
"It was so not fine," Parvati mumbled, and sank down on the closest couch. "He spent the whole time talking to my mum and dad and Padma!"
Hermione was flabbergasted. "He obviously likes your family, Parvati," she said wearily, "why in the world would you be upset?"
"Because he spent more time with them than he did with me!" Parvati snapped viciously. "Especially horrid old Padma. It was Padma-what-do-you-study and Padma-are-you-married and Padma-do-you-like-cats and Padma-how -was-Ravenclaw! Nothing but questions for Padma and compliments for my mum and political debates with my dad! Nothing for me! Nothing at all! The only thing he said was "Parvati's a really nice girl with an interesting fashion sense!" That is IT!"
Hermione reckoned now was a pretty damn good time to leave. Parvati was obviously just a couple of tantrums short of epileptic fit, and Blaise and Hannah seemed to realize this as well. "Why don't you go have a rest," Blaise comforted. "You'll feel loads better."
Parvati nodded, picked up her bag, and marched up the stairs. "Oh, and Hermione," she called down, "he talked about you, too! He hates me!" she sobbed melodramatically and disappeared into the bedroom.
Hermione could not have felt madder at Parvati than she did at that moment. How could she just leave without explaining what Draco had said! Of course Hermione's mind couldn't help but contemplate what he might have said. Parvati had not even mentioned if the comment was flattering or not. Perhaps he'd said, "Parvati's fashion sense is so much more interesting than some of the girls… like Hermione."
Now that was derogatory.
But maybe he'd said something like, "Hermione Granger—was in Parvati's class, I think, wasn't she?—is also a scientist, Padma! She's made loads of money in the field and I think she enjoys it quite thoroughly."
That would have been brilliant. But Hermione had an awful tendency to be pessimistic as hell and thus could not help but think he must've compared something or the other in which Hermione got the short end of the stick. Bugger!
Blaise looked forlornly at the empty space where Parvati had been a few seconds ago. "Well, I'll be darned… no nooky?"
"Blaise!" Hermione erupted. "You may be Queen-of-Copulation-With-Handcuffs-And-Strawberry-Shortcake but I am tired of hearing this conversation with only one topic! No more talk about… this… stuff!" Hermione turned a bit red in spite of herself. Why was it that she always had so much trouble talking about the … er, forces of nature?
Hermione expected Blaise to be slightly offended, at least, but Blaise just laughed. "Sure, Hermione. You know you enjoy it; because deep down inside, you are dirty. Scratch that, you're just filthy! You animal!" she joked.
"Me! Animal! I'm the only one here that hasn't got some animalistic lust for our bachelor!" she huffed. Couldn't Blaise understand that Hermione was itching for a nice, organized, big-worded fight here? None of this… Blaise-joking-Hermione-yelling business. That just didn't cut it.
"No, Hermione, you don't have animalistic lust," cut in Hannah, "but I think you have a little literary lust going here, don't you?"
Oh, damn Hannah and her observant ways, Hermione fumed. Damn them all! "No, Hannah," she said coldly. "Just because I think that Draco is an excellent source of botanical knowledge, not to mention an avid reader, not to mention intelligent, does not mean I am head-over-heels-in-literary-lust with the kid." But even as she said it, she knew the feeling extended just a wee bit past lust. Bugger! Stupid pheromones in her brain, telling her who to like and who not to! And why in demon jewels did Draco have to read!
He'd look really rather sexy with a nice pair of specs.
Clamping her hand over her mouth, even though she was positive she hadn't said it out loud, Hermione mumbled something about having to pack and raced up the stairs. By the time she got up the winding path, not only was she out of breath, but she realized that if she kept reacting like that every time her traitorous mind (ooh, it was absolutely awful!) decided to go and say something a bit inappropriate about Draco Malfoy she was going to go berserk. She'd have to be calm and cool about it. Calm, and cool.
Not to mention he had a nice arse.
Ignoring the bleeping noises her mind was now issuing, Hermione decided that because she was up here anyway she might as well pack. She grabbed her suitcase, threw in some clothes all higgledy-piggledy and shut it with a snap. Checking her watch she soon realized she only had half-an-hour before she was scheduled to meet Draco and visit her darling old mum and dad. It was going to be torture—she knew it.
Against her will (well, maybe not so much) Hermione settled down to spend the last half-hour reading the damnable yet horribly interesting romance novel that Parvati had recommended—The Enemies Tryst. Oddly fitting, the palpable thing that it was—Blaise probably enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Before she knew it, time was up, and she threw the novel under her bed (just to make sure nobody caught her reading it again!). Grabbing her suitcase, she lugged it down the stairs and out the front door, calling quick byes to the other three, who wished her… er, interesting aspects… in Blaise's case, involving that can of yellow spray paint.
Draco was waiting for her, looking handsome as ever (she had not just thought that! It was the heat!). "Got quite a load for one night," he commented lightly as she struggled with the stupid bag.
"Well, um…" Hermione said intelligently. Was she being a hypocrite when she said that all the girls only cared about clothes and make-up? Wasn't her bag filled quite heavily with clothing? "Want to help me?" she finally mumbled.
"Now maybe want isn't the best word," he teased her lightly, and deftly took the suitcase from her grasp and swung it into the car, next to his tiny duffel bag. "But I will help you."
"Why thank you for your generosity," Hermione bit back, inwardly slapping herself. Now why did she always have to be sarcastic? Maybe Draco didn't want her to be sarcastic. She slapped herself again. Since when did she care what others thought? She was going to be herself, no matter how much her murderous heart protested.
"Anytime," he replied easily, and soon they were in the car, traveling down to London, which was actually only an hour's drive away from the mansion. Hermione leaned forward and told the driver, who looked rather amused at the situation, where to go, then turned back towards Draco.
"So," she began. "Read anything lately?"
He nodded. "I read this book with a fantastic approach to the Venus fly trap. Did you know it originated as a wizard plant but throughout years of abuse was degraded to become some sort of exotic thing for muggles?"
Hermione was, needless to say, instantly captivated. "Really?" she breathed. "Tell me about it."
And so he did, and Hermione found herself loving every millisecond of the wonderful, intellectual conversation, a real relief from what she'd been hearing (the 'dudettes' and the 'nookies'), and not to mention, it was making her heart beat faster and faster.
The ride felt like five minutes and Hermione felt a familiar sense of nostalgia as her parents' house became larger as they drove up to it. "Well, here it is," she said, feeling a bit silly. " 'Course it's probably as big as your pool house, but this is what we have."
He smiled. "I never was one for big houses, but that might be because I accidentally wandered into the dungeons when I was three years old. Bit unpleasant."
She laughed her hyena-horse-giggle-laugh, the one she'd resigned would come out if she was in near vicinity of Draco (horrid, embarrassing thing that it was). "I suppose it would be," she replied and rang the doorbell of the quaint home. Hermione hadn't been back here in two years, and it was really nice to see it again, although the circumstances were downright awkward.
Her mum threw open the door and greeted her daughter with not a "Dear!" not a "Lovely!" not a "Hello!" but a tight hug which caused Hermione to trip back on her suitcase, which Draco had placed on the porch, and fall right into Draco himself.
He staggered under her weight for a second but caught her and righted both of their footing. "Wow, there, Hermione, how much have you been eating?" he asked. Hermione smacked his left arm and turned towards her mother.
"Thanks, mum," she said sarcastically, but she couldn't stay mad at the woman for long. "It's been forever, hasn't it?"
Her mother nodded. "I agree. I'm soo happy you went on this show, Hermione! You know what I'm looking forward to!"
Hermione was mortified. Surely her mother was not planning on bringing up the "Grandbabies or I'm stabbing you with my dinner fork!" routine. Oh, please no. For the moment Hermione successfully avoided it by introducing Draco. "Oh, mum," she said, "this is well, the bachelor of the show…Draco Malfoy."
Her mother's smile faded a few notches and she looked at her daughter, then to Draco, then back at her daughter. "Do come in," she finally said, and the two stepped inside the well-lit house. Her mother smiled warmly at Draco but when she turned away Hermione noticed the puzzled expression on her face.
"You both are a tad late," she told them, "so let's get dinner started right away, shall we?"
Draco told her that would be lovely (and Hermione nearly melted at the manners! Manners! Wonderful!) and said he would be right back; he had to go wash up. Hermione smiled to herself. He was awfully conceited about his good looks; that was certain.
As soon as Draco had disappeared her mother turned to her. "Hermione, darling, wasn't Draco Malfoy the boy you absolutely despised while you were at your magic school?"
Hermione turned beet red and shrugged. "Heh, heh, I had him pegged all wrong. He's really all right—I've had to get used to him for these last five weeks, and he's a … nice boy."
Her mum grinned happily. "Nice enough to marry?" she asked excitedly.
Hermione swatted at her mother's arm gently and walked into the kitchen. "Don't talk like that," she warned, "I don't think he reciprocates the way I feel about him."
"You like him then?" her mother squealed. "Oh, Ted, come in here! Hermione likes a boy! Hermione likes a boy!"
Hermione wondered if a pot of cold water would make her melt, because right now being dead seemed a better option than carrying out with this dinner. Gods, if this was her mother, then what was dear old daddy going to be like?
Speaking of the man, he sauntered into the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. "Omelet! It's wonderful to see you again! Come here, you, give your old man a hug!" Hermione smiled and complied; it was great to see dad again…although she hoped she'd heard him wrong with that stupid pet name from her early, early, early years.
Of course, the gods were out to get her, because her father did it again. "So, Omelet, where's the boy? I need to beat the pulp out of any boy who's going to take away my daughter!"
"Dad," Hermione said very patiently, although she felt like she was walking in tar, "He is not going to take me away. He might not even pick me. I just think he's a nice, literary boy, okay? So none of this business tonight!"
Her father laughed but before he could reply, Draco walked back into the kitchen. Her mother ushered them all into the dining room and Hermione sat down across from Draco, who unfortunately was sitting right next to Hermione's father. Well. So much for pleasant dinner conversation.
Hermione's mother came and sat down next to Hermione and the dinner—which Hermione had accurately predicted as roast beef and mashed potatoes, with some greens on the side—began. Draco complimented her mum's cooking and thus began the… er, interesting conversations that were soon to follow.
"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, for letting me eat dinner with you tonight," Draco said politely. Hermione noticed he ate very… cleanly. Such a relief from Harry and Ron! Maybe it was because Draco had been brought up in such an environment. Whatever it was it was beautiful to look at.
"Oh, please call me Jane," Hermione's mother gushed. Her father told Draco to call him Ted, but seemed a bit reluctant about it.
"So," her father began, "Tell me a little about yourself… oh, dear, I've forgotten your name!"
"It's Draco, sir, Draco Malfoy."
Hermione and her mother both froze. Neither had alerted Mr. Granger about this insane possibility that Hermione oddly fancied the one boy she'd rather hated. Sure enough Mr. Granger reacted with some surprise. "Draco Malfoy?" he echoed softly. "I think I've heard some unpleasant stories about you, young man."
Hermione marveled at Draco's ability to not turn red. He handled it very calmly, actually. "Well, Ted, Hermione and I were, needless to say, not the best of friends during our years at Hogwarts. Just the ritual boy-girl teasing that goes on, I assure you, unless Hermione was too sensitive about it?"
Damn him. Forget anything she'd ever said about his… looks, or his derriere, or his…books; he was not going to blame this on her sensitivity. "Not at all, mum, Draco really did have a razor tongue in those days," she said, glaring at him.
"I did not. And if I recall, Hermione was none too pleasant either," he retorted.
Hermione's mother sensed some sort of yelling-each-other's-heads-off that might follow and quickly changed the topic. "Well, no matter, Ted, it seems they're nice friends now!"
Luckily for her, Hermione's father got the hint. "All right then, Draco, I'm sorry… I just hadn't expected Hermione to turn right around and fancy the boy she once hated!"
Hermione looked down at her potatoes like they were the most fascinating book in the entire world. The whole table laughed politely at the joke but Hermione, still sour, did not. "Oh, I'm not so sure she quite fancies me," Draco said amiably, "We have a different sort of relationship, beyond all of that silly stuff."
Well, at least he said the "I'm keeping her for advice" in a very nice way.
For a while, conversation was nice, neutral, and normal—politics and magic and dinner and other stuff that Hermione could handle—but when they got to dessert (treacle tart) the awkwardness intensified.
"So, Omelet, you think you're ready to settle down?" her father asked.
"You know how I feel about grandchildren," her mother added passionately.
Hermione felt sick. "Er, I'm a free-spirited person, mum and dad. When I'm ready to settle I'll let you know."
Draco was smirking from the other end of the table. "Oh, Omelet, I don't know… I think you should give marriage a chance," he said.
Hermione faced him, anger bubbling like soda pop in her veins, but she decided she should just let it go, take it easy, ignore this mortification from the other three people she was dining with. "Actually…yes, you're right. If someone I really, really fancied… loved, I guess… were to propose to me, I most certainly would get married."
She hoped he understood the hint. Then again, she didn't love him. She merely fancied him. A whole lot.
The rest of the time with her parents went by nicely, as Hermione controlled any reaction she might have to some of the things said. As the evening drew to a close, her father stood up and said, "Well let me take you two to your rooms; Hermione, you'll just have your room and Draco can have the guest bedroom next to it."
Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was dressed for bed and ready to sleep, when she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and in front of her stood Draco, wearing just boxer shorts. She firmly told herself that salivating was for dogs and gave him a weak smile. "Yes?" she asked.
"I wanted to talk," he said. "I really liked your parents… I never thought I'd like a Muggle!"
Hermione shrugged. "Well they do know a lot about magic…I tell them stuff."
"Yeah, well, it's nice," he said, and plopped himself down on her bed. Fudge crackers, she thought to herself, what if her mum and dad found out he was sitting on her bed? What would they assume? What would she tell Blaise? Gingerly she sat down next to him and stared at her carpet.
"So what did you think of Parvati's house?" she found herself asking.
"It was awfully nice," he said, "but I don't know… I don't think Parvati and I could get along that well, if we, you know, got married."
"Your mum is probably thrilled though, that you actually utter the word."
He nodded. "She must be—you know I have to take the top two girls that I pick to visit my family. Won't that be fun… oh, look, here's the torture chamber, and up the stairs we have our collection of kinky looking skeletons…"
She laughed. "It won't be that bad. I'm sure the lucky two girls will love it." She wished she could see his house.
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I like Hannah; we get along fantastically. Blaise… Blaise is dirty! But it's entertaining. And Parvati is nice as well. And then of course there's you."
Hermione yearned to find out what implications were in "there's you". Was it good? Was it bad? Was it neautral? Did he fancy her? Maybe he hated her. No, he couldn't hate her; he'd kept her far too long.
"Well, I better be getting back," he said soon. "Wouldn't want your parents to get the wrong idea now, don't you think?" he asked with a laugh.
She giggled. "Yes, I shudder to see their reaction to that one."
He walked out the door, blowing her a kiss as he ambled out. She fell asleep that night dreaming of a flying kiss. What did it mean? Oh, damn him!
The next morning dawned clear and before Hermione knew it they were in the car ride back home. It was just as fascinating as the one there, for starters, and Hermione could feel some sort of chemistry between them. It was awfully nice. Hermione hadn't felt this way about any boy before and she, being naturally curious, wanted more.
For the next two days, she had plenty of time to think about romantic possibility between the two of them. It would be nice, but it would also be terrifying at the same time. What if his idea of a good time was vastly different than hers? But no, it couldn't be, she reminded herself. He liked books. He was all right.
Hannah came home from her overnight/family date overjoyed, claiming that he really liked her parents and found her little sister to be entertaining. She also said that the two of them had made out in the closet, although it wasn't for very long because he said he was tired. Blaise came home from her overnight/family date happy but a bit disappointed because she didn't get what she wanted from Draco. She blamed her family, saying that they were too inquisitive and wouldn't leave them alone for one second.
Soon the dreaded rose ceremony approached and Hermione was quite unhappy with herself, because unfortunately she was nervous. Draco hadn't said anything about needing her any longer, but now she wanted to stay more than anything. She knew that just a few days ago she had contemplated leaving… but… wouldn't it be fun to see the end? Even if he didn't pick her… she knew he wouldn't, but it would be awfully nice if he did.
Draco got up there and began the traditional speech. "All of you have wonderful family," he said, "and I thoroughly enjoyed every visit. But… I felt more of a connection, more of a closer fit, with some of you than with others."
He took a deep breath and called out the first name. "Hannah."
She smiled broadly, went up and hugged him, and accepted the rose.
He took another deep breath and called out "Parvati."
She did the exact same thing as Hannah, only she emitted a very tiny squeal before she went up.
Draco took the customary minute and a half before he called out the last name. "Hermione."
Hermione couldn't believe it, but happily she went up, and was instantly nervous. There was a customary hug that she had not yet given to Draco… and she kind of, very nearly wanted to. She took the rose in her hand and slowly turned towards him, really hoping he'd get the hint.
He didn't.
She hugged him, fast, furious, and fanatically, and then went back to her spot, looking at the floor so nobody would see the red patches on her face.
But of course sooner or later she had to look up, and when she did, he winked at her.
Damn it! Yet another thing she had to dissect and decipher. Oh well…maybe it was like a puzzle! And puzzles were fun! Inwardly groaning, Hermione sat down and began to contemplate.
A/N: This is a long (and I mean it! It's the longest I've written for this fic!) chapter to make up for the long wait. I hope you all enjoyed it; I liked writing it! I'm sorry it took me so long, but I was on holidays and you can't exactly update when you aren't in town, right? Anyway, thanks a million for your super reviews! They are so inspiring; I loved each and every one of them, and I always go back and read them.
Many of you have pointed out that Blaise is a boy. Yes, I do think he is, but for the purposes of this fic he is a girl. Just accept it, please!
Even though I've been at fanfiction for a long time, I still don't know how to put bold or italics in my bio… so if anyone knows, please tell me! Thanks! Once again, I do e-mail adds, and please review, they are all fantastic.