The Bachelor Chapter 14

A/N: For everyone who asked if Hermione was going to remain a blonde, I say, no, she changed herself back shortly after Hannah did the deed. If you read closely you will see that it says that. Well, anyway, on to the next chapter!

"Hermione! Ron, shut up, I'm trying to talk to her—"

"Harry please, hey Hermione, I can't believe you're stuck there with that—"

"—Ron, I'm talking to her, hey, we can't believe you're actually still there with that sodding—"

"—snot ragged—"

"—horrendous, blubbering, womanizing prat—"

"—No fair, Harry, I wanted to say that—"

Hermione smiled as she listened to the voices emitting from her WizMobile (a very hi-tech new mobile that wizards in the Muggle Artifacts department of the Ministry of Magic had come up with; so far it had been incredibly successful and as a result the Weasleys had benefited greatly). It was her first time talking to the boys since she'd been here, and apparently they had been following the show. Er, obsessed with was more like it.

"Boys," she finally said, after they had gone through three minutes more of Draco bashing, "he's really not that bad."

"Awful, smelly, prick—wait, what?! Harry, did you hear that?!" Ron gasped from the other line.

"Hermione," Harry's voice came through, sounding anxious. "Not that bad? But, but you should see him on TV! When they do those little interviews and stuff, he says the meanest things about the girls!"

"Really?" Hermione's mouth turned down into a frown and her heart clenched with the knowledge. What did he dare say about them? "Like what?" she asked.

"Like that girl in the beginning, the really hot one, what was her name? Something with an A, Amber, Ally…oh, Albany, thanks Harry, yeah, he called her a nipple-clamp girl! A nipple-clamp! They had to edit that out on TV, sodding idiot doesn't know you've got to keep it clean for prime time WizTV… by the way did you know this show has one of the highest ratings? Right up there with Harry Potter Adventures and Extreme Quidditch!"

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, well, what he said was true… you remember that bikini she was wearing? Hardly covered a thing! Most indecent!"

Harry agreed. "It was, it was, but still… he could have been a little nicer. And as for Millicent, he didn't like her at all, admitted right on TV that he thought she was a bit… too strong, he said, but he was terrified of her, you could tell… oh but the real reason we wanted to talk to you…"

Her heart beat quickened. "Well, what is it?" she questioned calmly, never letting any of her anxiety drip into her voice.

"He," Ron began in indignation, "is using you for advice?"

She sighed. "Well… you know when I first got there, we were most, ah, opposed to the situation, but as time went on, you know… boys, I think he's a pretty okay guy once you get to know him."

She could practically see Harry rolling his eyes. "Hermione, this is Malfoy we're talking about! Malfoy!" one of them sputtered.

"I know. I know! But you aren't here with him. He's nice, and he's quite smart, actually. He knows more magical botany than I do! Almost as much as Neville, I'd think… and… well, he doesn't seem too shallow, although I know he uses the girls for a quick snog every now and then…oh, hey," she said, getting worried, "does he shag them too?"

There was silence. Then after a moment, Ron finally spoke. "You know what, mate," he said to Harry, "I reckon she fancies him."

Hermione nearly choked on her air. To put it out in the open like that! "I do not!" she protested fiercely, although she knew it was no use.

"You do too," Harry said slowly. "Of course you do! Your actions show it on the show, too! You're always very polite but distant when they ask you about him! OH MY GOSH! You like him! Ron, Ron, he has to pick her… I'm going to beat that bastard to a bloody pulp if he doesn't pick her…"

"Of course he'll pick her, what is he, an idiot? Well, yes, but… still the other one's a total bimbo, just yesterday she told us her great plan to get Hermione!"

Hermione held her breath. "What was it?" she finally asked. "Oh, don't tell me, she's going to put water in my hair gel so my hair will frizz," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, how'd you know?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Hermione laughed. "It was just a guess. But thanks for the warning; I'll be sure to spell my hair instead of using that gel. So… um, guys," she stumbled, wanting to ask a very important question, "what does Draco say about me?"

"Ah, there it comes," Ron commented. "I knew it was coming. Knew it."

"He's generally the same way you are. He's distant and polite. He really won't tell us who he fancies more, you or Hannah… actually I don't know if he fancies eith—I mean, I'm sure he fancies you, Hermione, although he won't let on."

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Harry was going to say that he wasn't sure Draco liked either of them… but he'd broken it off in an effort not to hurt her feelings. "Look," she found herself saying, "I have to go, Hannah's probably vandalizing my hair dryer, you know, gotta catch her… and I have to pack, I'm leaving tomorrow to go visit his house… enjoy the show, boys."

"Oh, we will. Good luck!"

"—what do you mean, good luck? Of course she'll get him! And if she doesn't, he won't be around to be available anyway, I'm aching to hurt that ferret…"

Hermione heard the click of the receiver and sighed to herself. It had been good to talk to Harry and Ron, good to hear their opinions (albeit slightly biased opinions), good to see how life was back home.

And in a week, she'd be back home. Either with Draco, or without.

With new resolve, she packed her suitcase and charmed it, just to make sure Hannah didn't go and replace her robes with sizes much too big or some other act like that. Just then, the girl in question walked into the room with a frown on her face.

"Hermione," she began, "you didn't take my face cream, did you? I can't find it anywhere and I'm leaving in five minutes to go meet Draco's parents."

"No, Hannah," Hermione replied, genuinely surprised, "I've been on the phone the whole morning. I've no idea where it is."

"I don't believe you," Hannah growled. "I simply don't believe you."

"Then don't," came Hermione's cross retort. "What would I do with your smelly bat guano face cream anyway?"

"Excuse me! It cost thirty two galleons! And it's from the caves of east Calgary, so it's the best guano available. I'm sure you couldn't afford it."

"And I'm sure that's because my complexion is clear enough without it," Hermione said dangerously. "Now get out, if you're going to be rude. Seriously, Hannah," she appealed, deciding to make one last try before she gave up, "let's not play these games. They're so silly. I mean, fighting over a boy that might not necessarily like either of us? Honestly!"

Hannah stopped abruptly. "What do you mean, not necessarily like either of us?" she asked in a tight voice. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I'm serious," Hermione answered resignedly. "That's what he said on TV, according to Ron and Harry, and they've been following the show. It's Live, and a very popular show on the telly, so I'd really believe them."

"But he told me he likes me!" came Hannah's strangled reply. "Oh, gosh, Hermione, what are we going to do? He has to like at least one of us! I mean of course I want it to be me, but… but he can't just like nobody! Oh my gosh! He's… he's one of those… planty things! He's asexual!"

Hermione stifled a giggle. "Just because he might not be interested in you or me, doesn't mean he's not interested in anyone, Hannah," she explained. "Anyway, go pack, because he'll be here in like, a minute, and you want to be ready, don't you?"

Hannah gasped and bounded out of the room. "Thanks for the warning, Hermione!" she called over her shoulder. "Laters!"

With a last look at Hannah's bobbing blonde head, Hermione turned to something she'd neglected for a while: reading. Unfortunately reading The Enemies Tryst had sparked some sort of awakening in Hermione.

She was hopelessly addicted to trashy romance novels.

A secret she was going to keep very, very quiet. It wouldn't do to have the scientific world know that Hermione was stuffing novels with titles such as Summer Sensuality and Flirting with Devils and Under the Blanket in her attic.

Hermione spent the day reading and at night had a quick dinner alone. Just as she was finishing up, who else but a woman that Hermione utterly disliked entered the room. Kathy M. Silver herself.

"Hermione, dear!" she exclaimed in an oily voice.

"Kathy," Hermione acknowledged as formally as possible.

"How are you?" Kathy asked, conjuring up a chair and sitting down next to Hermione. Hermione smiled faintly. She wasn't really in the mood for small talk, especially with a manipulative woman like Ms. Silver right here in front of her.

"Absolutely divine," Hermione answered politely. "And you?"

"Just marvelous, dearie! Are you excited about visiting Draco's family?" Kathy asked. Hermione knew she had to be careful with her response. After all, Kathy was related somehow to the Malfoys.

"Yes," she replied, "I look forward to seeing the Manor."

"I'm sure Hannah is having a lovely time there, don't you think?" Kathy asked, boring her eyes into Hermione.

That was when Hermione finally noticed the cameras. Ah, another thing for the however million viewers who were currently watching this and laughing at her. And rooting for Hannah (Ron had informed her that Hannah did seem to have a very sweet disposition on camera). "I'm sure she is," Hermione agreed. "Hannah deserves it. She's a very nice girl."

Take that. You don't fight fire with fire, you fight fire with water, and Hermione knew that "w-a-r-r" wasn't going to work. She just wouldn't participate. So what if Hannah disposed of some of Hermione's beauty products? She could live with petty things like that!

Having taken care of the battle between the two, Hermione excused herself from Kathy and The Cameras and went upstairs to finish off Under the Blanket, and wait for the next day to come.

The next morning dawned clear and at nine Hannah came home looking pleased. "I think I impressed Lucius, but I don't know. Narcissa didn't say much. She's the quiet type," she said quickly. "The house is so gorge. If I live there I know just how I'm going to do up all the rooms! It's going to be beautiful!"

In the afternoon Draco came by and Hermione nervously opened up the door for him. "Hey," she began.

"Hello," he smiled faintly. "Got your things? We'll just apparate into a nearby village—there are anti-apparation charms all over the house, and from there we can just ride some brooms, my dad owns this fantastic broom shop."

Hermione's stomach swooped. "Ride? Brooms?" she echoed. "I don't…well, what I mean to say is that, I can't…well, I don't…" she trailed off suddenly very anxious and miserable.

He grinned. "Don't ride, I take it?"

She grimaced. "Well, no, not really…can't we just, I dunno, walk there?"

"Walk?" He laughed. "Wait till you get there. You won't be walking, Hermione, because the manor is absolutely huge."

She half-scowled and half-sighed, then followed his apparating directions and soon they were in the "village". "Village my foot!" she gasped. "It's like a city."

"Yeah, I told you," he teased. "Come on, there's the shop!"

She followed him nervously into the expensive broom shop. "Mr. Malfoy!" the man behind the desk exclaimed. "Two brooms, I expect?"

"Yes. Make them, hmmm… any particular one you want to ride, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione wondered if he was genuinely interested in the kind of broom she would want to ride (hah! Like she would know!) or whether he was just being polite and cordial. Oh, she had never felt so nervous around a member of the male species!

"Um… you know, the last broom I ever really kept track of was the Firebolt…so, um, I'm guessing that's a bit out of date, right?"

The shopkeeper grinned. "I'm sorry ma'am, we really don't keep older brooms, unless they're classics like the Cleansweep series. The oldest one we've got is a Lightningbolt 360, and even those are pretty rare. Well then, Mr. Malfoy, it seems the lady doesn't know, what will it be?"

Draco gave Hermione a sly smile and turned to the shopkeeper. "Two Speedtwisters, please."

"Fastest broom there ever was," the shopkeeper remarked as he pulled out two very polished and posh looking brooms.

Hermione was sure she turned slightly green.

Draco led them out of the shop and quickly mounted his broom. He took off and Hermione stared at him, helpless. A few seconds later he turned around and looked at her pointedly. "Come on! I didn't know you weren't following me!"

"Look, Draco," she began awkwardly, and then decided to just say it. "The truth is, I don't know how to ride a broom. I just don't."

He gaped at her incredulously. "But… you're joking! You're best friends with Potter and Weasley… I mean, they love Quidditch, don't they? And riding a broom… everyone knows how…"

Hermione glared at him.

"Hey, no problem," he said quickly, glancing at her expression with amusement, "I'll teach you. It's very easy."

He flew down smoothly to the ground, dismounted his broom and made his way over to her. "Okay," he said, first you have to command it. You have to show off your control." His voice was low. Hermione trembled with anticipation, and then cursed herself for caring. How did it matter if his voice was low and sensual and alluring and… stop it, she instructed herself firmly. Just stop it.

"Take your hand out and say 'up'… here, like this." He placed his hand over hers, and Hermione completely forgot about anything surrounding a broom. She inhaled a sharp breath and instead concentrated on the feel of smooth long fingers against her own shorter ones. Just when she had delved into innumerable fantasies pulled right out of those romance novels, a hard shaft popped into her hand. Oh, the broom. It had worked, unfortunately.

"Now what?" she asked softly.

"Now mount it. Get on the broom… there you go, that's right," came the reassurance from his sexy voice.

"I think I'm going to fall off," she whispered with a giggle. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can… oh, look here," he mounted the broom and motioned for her to sit behind him. "Now hold on to me… not too tight, yeah that's fine right there, and just feel this feeling. It's amazing."

And it certainly was. Although Hermione was fairly sure he was referring to the feeling of whooshing through the air, she rather enjoyed the whole put-your-arms-around-me bit. His body was warm against the cool air and it was really, really hard to not have indecent thoughts about a certain blond haired beautiful man in front of her, especially after reading detailed accounts of such instances in romance novels.

Fortunately or unfortunately, she couldn't tell, they soon reached Malfoy Manor. Even though Hannah had mentioned the sheer size of the mansion, Hermione hadn't prepared herself enough. It was massive. No, not massive, horrendously massive. "Wow," she said to herself, but Draco overheard.

"Yeah, it's pretty big. That's why I'm not moving out on my own; I'll just get my own wing or two."

Hermione laughed. "You know, you really don't seem the type of guy that lives with his parents."

"Oh please," he replied, looking hurt, "I do not live with them. I barely see them. They only occupy the east wing of this place, and my father is giving me ownership of the mansion for my birthday."

"More of the my-father-gets-me-what-I-want-routine," Hermione commented lightly. "Always, Draco… daddy's little boy, huh? Always gotten what you wanted?"

He looked angry for a moment. "No," he finally said, tight-lipped. "Not always."

He led her into the mansion, through elaborate gardens, a huge sprawling pool, sauna, and hot tub, and a gazebo (for small parties, Draco informed her). Waiting for them was Narcissa Malfoy. "Hello," she greeted them warmly. "You must be Hermione."

Hermione smiled and graciously took the woman's regal hand. "Yes. Thank you for letting me visit today."

"Oh, it's no problem… we're…well, I'm so excited that Draco's finally listened to me and looked for a proper girlfriend, maybe even use of the big M word, right Draco?"

Draco seemed to ignore his mother. She went on anyway. "So it was just lovely to have you two girls visit; Draco's final two! He must really like you."

Hermione smiled and looked over at Draco who mumbled something about this being rather awkward and escaped to the bathroom.

"Well, come on in," Narcissa continued her fresh chatter and led Hermione into one of the drawing rooms. "Lucius should be down any second… pardon him if he's a bit… impolite, being under house arrest really does not suit one of his personality."

Hermione nodded. Lucius Malfoy had been placed on house-arrest back when the Death Eater trials had been going on quite a few years ago. "So tell me," Narcissa began excitedly. "Do you really fancy my son?"

Hermione knew she had to word her answer carefully. No mother wanted anything bad said about her son; at the same time, she didn't want to sound desperate or anything. "That's why I'm here, isn't it," she finally joked. "No, but seriously, he's a very learned man."

Narcissa nodded. "He always did love school. Very bright. A bit jealous, however, of a certain girl who always got ahead of him in his schoolwork, and if I recall correctly, that would be you?"

Of course this had to come up. "Well, er, I hadn't been aware that he was second in the class at that time… if so I'd probably have arranged a study group with him (who was she kidding? As if! Harry and Ron wouldn't have let her near him!)."

"Oh, well isn't that lovely," Narcissa schmoozed. "Oh, here's Lucius!"

Lucius walked regally into the study and sat down. "The other one?" he asked Narcissa, who nodded. "So you must be Hermione Granger. I remember you."

Hermione couldn't help but feel terrified of this man. He was awfully dangerous, and… and he had a thing against people of muggle descent… and what if he killed her or something and they couldn't find her body and then…then she remembered that she was indeed on a television show, the cameras were right here, taping away, and he wasn't going to be able to do anything because he was under house-arrest for the rest of his life. "Er, yes," she at last said. "You're looking well," she finally began uncomfortably.

Lucius looked grim. "I see you are interested in wedding my son?" he finally asked.

Hermione paled. "Well," she started diplomatically, "Marriage is a big step. This show is a little over six weeks long, and in the occasion that Draco does, er, pick me, I would insist on a long engagement just so we could know if we're truly suited to each other, because I believe that there is no way to assess complete compatibility on a television show."

It was silent for a moment, and then came Lucius' grim voice. "Well said, Miss Granger. Well said. Narcissa, have the cooks fixed up dinner?"

His comment effectively lightened the mood. "Oh, yes, I'll have them serve it right away. Jean Claude!" she called and hurried off to the kitchen.

Although Hermione was fairly sure she'd at least gotten the grudging respect of Lucius, she didn't exactly want to be left alone with him. Luckily, at that instant that Hermione was about to ask for the restroom, Draco walked into the room. "Father," he greeted Lucius. "I see you've met Hermione."

"Yes," came Lucius' derisive reply. "Now I believe your mother is waiting for us in the dining hall. Shall we?"

Hermione traipsed after Draco and his father into the dining hall, which was spectacularly decorated. "It's beautiful," she breathed. "Who thought of the idea of having Shakespeare's works magically swirl round the ceiling?"

Narcissa smiled softly. "I designed most of the decorations in this place," she said modestly.

"They're absolutely exquisite," Hermione praised sincerely. "Beautiful. If I were ever to move in here, I wouldn't change a thing!"

Narcissa laughed. "After yesterday's guest… Hannah… I'd thought my designs were truly outdated. She seemed eager to change them, didn't she, Lucius?"

Lucius agreed with his wife. "She did."

Although Hermione was interested to know what the Malfoys thought of Hannah, Lucius seemed keen on keeping silent throughout the meal. Narcissa, however, nattered away and asked Hermione many questions about growing up in a muggle home.

"You know," she happily stated, "I always wanted to know what it was like in a muggle home. We've heard so many rumors… but the truth is, Lucius and I have never seen a muggle house!"

"It's quite different," Hermione conceded, "Things don't just move… everything's very stationary. But then we also have some things that wizarding homes don't… like electricity."

"I've heard of that," Lucius looked up, surprised. "It's supposed to be very ingenious."

The rest of the dinner conversation revolved around muggle technology, and although Lucius looked awfully skeptical and tried to keep putting on a bored face, Hermione was pretty sure he was generally interested. Narcissa of course wanted to know how muggle homes looked. Hermione was sure the woman would make an excellent interior decorator, if she were ever given the chance to work.

Draco remained silent throughout dinner, only speaking when directly spoken to. After dinner, they sipped some dessert wine and then Draco claimed that he was exhausted and he was going to bed. "Come on," he said to Hermione, "I'll show you your room."

Hermione followed him out through spiraling staircases and long corridors before they finally reached a large guest room. "Well, here you are. If you need anything, my room's just down this corridor."

"Thanks," she replied. "Hey… thanks for dinner and everything. Your parents… aren't what I expected."

He cracked a smile. "Yeah. Dad's changed a lot since he's been under house-arrest. A lot calmer about things. He's always reading and stuff too; I guess he wants to keep up appearances about being very intelligent."

Hermione decided now was a time for compliments. "Well, he's succeeding," she gushed.

"Hey… I guess I should've told you earlier, but you look really pretty tonight."

She melted. She hated when he did this, well, hated it and loved it too, but it spun her out of control and all she ever wanted was control. She knew that in a relationship with this man, she could forget about having control… but… "Thank you."

And then he kissed her, and it was exactly like last time. Brilliant and unimaginably wonderful. They tumbled onto the bed and somewhere Hermione was protesting but pheromones raged and she couldn't help but notice his slender hands, his pale neck, his aristocratic nose.

A good snog session later, Hermione was pushing him off. She'd battled and battled and decided she wasn't about to shag him; it might make her look tawdry because she wasn't even sure if he was going to pick her. In fact, she was quite worried he wouldn't. "Enough," she stated firmly. "I don't want to go any further."

Lips swollen from kissing he slid off and walked away. "Okay. I respect that." And then a moment later, as he was stepping out, "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night."

She got dressed for bed, slid in, turned off the lights and dreamed of laughter in the halls of Malfoy Manor.

The next morning, she was woken by a house-elf and within the hour was back with Hannah. Hannah squealed when she saw her. "Didn't you just love it?" she prodded in anticipation.

"Yes, it was really nice," she finally said. "Look, you know that the… thing is tonight. Let's just hang out alone today."

Hannah agreed. "We should keep in touch after the show, right?"

Hermione felt pained. "Um, yeah, sure, whatever," she finally just said in a rush and went up to her room.

She spent the day working on some scientific research she hadn't touched in weeks. It was difficult work and it took her mind off of the impending ceremony, in which Draco would reject one of them and propose to the other (or so was planned; it was perfectly possible he would reject both of them).

She wouldn't see Hannah again unless she wanted to after the show; because they would both meet Draco separately and privately (except for the whole this was on prime television bit) where he would inform them of his decision. They wouldn't even know who met him first, so she'd be completely in the dark until she actually got there and spoke to him.

Finally evening approached. Nervously, Hermione donned a very pretty pair of robes, nice heels, and added a slight touch of enhancing make up to her face. She even used Sleek-easy potion on her hair, although it was rather time consuming. An hour later she found herself seated in a limousine making her way over to Draco Malfoy. She was undeniably nervous. What if he didn't pick her? He knew she liked him; she'd let him kiss her more than once, and he was always dodgy between the two of them.

It was best not to think about it. Anyway, Harry and Ron had promised to kill him if he didn't pick her.

Never mind if that sounded awfully desperate.

And before she knew it, they were there. She didn't know if Hannah had already seen him or if she was the first one to meet him that evening. She stepped out of the limo and made her way to where he was standing amid roses and candles. Very pretty, but she hardly noticed the décor; her heart was pumping much too fast.

"Hey," he said softly when he saw her.

"Hey," she responded just as softly.

"Well, I might as well get started," he lightly began. He clasped her hands within his. She tingled. "Look… when this show began…I was really pissed off that you were here."

She laughed. "The feeling was mutual, I assure you."

"And… I originally kept you because I was mad and you know, wanted to just bother you a bit and stuff… and then we had a while where we really didn't like each other. I still remember that awful thing you did to my hair!"

"And I still remember that stunt at L'Acqua," she teased.

"So I guess we're even. But… what I'm trying to say is, Hermione, my… feelings towards you have really changed. I'm…closer to you and there's a connection…and I mean, it's really nice but what I'm trying to say is—" He paused. She noted that he looked incredibly nervous.

"I think that this is going to be brill—no, I mean, okay, well… while it's been fun on the show," he suddenly said, his words coming much easier, "I just don't know if it's going to work later on, with all the, you know, history behind us. And that's why I'm going to pick Hannah. It's just going to be easier. Thank you, Hermione, for sticking on the show. I hope we can be friends when it's all blown over, because as I said, I think we get along much better now."

In the middle of the speech, Hermione thought hauntingly, he had changed his mind. She refused to let herself cry in front of him. Summoning up any strength that she had after she had been so thoroughly shattered, she spoke. "Yes. I do think so as well," she said icily. "But I don't think we can be friends. You said it yourself. There's just too much history."

And with that, she spun on her heel and walked back to the car. Not quickly. Not in pain. Head held high and back perfectly straight, she made sure she looked every bit as aristocratic as she could finally muster.

Only when she got into the car did she let the tears fall.

A/N: Ok, I've noticed that when other authors don't put Draco and Hermione together for the moment, they get tons of hate reviews and really rude comments and like, death threats and stuff… so the only thing I'm going to say is, please don't kill me!

It's not over yet, I promise. There IS more. I'm working on it. This took me a long time to write, and it was really difficult to write, so I hope that people do look at the overall thing instead of the ending and just flame me for that!

Oh, and as for why do all the chapters start with the letter A, as many people asked, I dunno why. I just felt like it, I guess.

Anyway, thanks for your brilliant reviews, as usual. Once again, leave an e-mail for an e-mail update.