Dirt in The Ground
By:
Penny
The Earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you
-Tom Waits "Earth Died Screaming"
A SUFFOCATING silence reigned in the elaborately decorated flat above the small antique and vintage clothing store.
The faint sounds from the hectic street down below could be heard over the repetitive 'tick tock' of the old grandfather clock perched in the corner. The sound was ominous and thundering against the silence.
The room, supposedly the sitting room judging by it's size, was cluttered with various stacks of thick books and boxes and old fashioned furniture. Colorful, silk pillows littered the couches and the polished cherry wood floors. Heavy, crimson drapes curtained the windows, casting a majestically red glow over the room.
A woman, around the age of thirty, was sitting on a claw footed, red velvet sofa, staring blankly at a large picture hanging on the beige colored wall.
It portrayed a poetically beautiful young man, with a long black mane dancing wildly in the wind, and vibrant blue eyes. His skin was pale and inhumanly flawless, like the surface of a sculptured ice statue. In his arms, with lush spirals of dark brown hair, was a girl. Her large brown eyes were glittering with content, and a wide smile lighted up her face.
In the corner, written in an elegant, calligraphic handwriting were the words:
My beautiful Griffindork and I. Love you, kiddo.
Forever yours,
Blaise Zabini
She smiled softly, as she always did when she read the inscription, and stood up. Straightening out her skirt, she ran a hand through her chin length hair as she left the living room and walked into the kitchen.
A dark blue owl, snoozing peacefully on his perch by the kitchen window, clutched a crumpled piece of parchment in his sharp talons.
Hermione, for Hermione Granger was the woman's name, shook her head with a smile and gently pried the paper from her pet's claw and immediately dropped it onto the counter, as if it suddenly burned her hand.
"Who... who..." murmured the bird quietly, cracking open one violet eye to discreetly spy on his master.
Hermione, taking out her ebony wood wand, cast a dozen spells onto the parchment before cautiously picking it up and unfolding it.
Ms. Granger,
We have a few items that may be of interest to you regarding your antique and vintage clothing shop in Diagon Alley:
A French mahogany bookshelf, perfectly preserved from the thirteenth century. 5,657 Galleons...
The list went on, filled with many old and valuable objects that, true to the letter's word, interested Hermione greatly. Her large brown eyes scanned the list quickly, smile widening with each word. As the listing came to an end, her smile began to melt away to be replaced by a thoughtful frown.
At the bottom of the parchment, in an elegant, flowing writing was a signature: Vitruvius Malfoy.
A Malfoy? It wasn't that surprising, since Hermione knew that the Malfoy family was rather large. Yet it still startled her that a member of such a powerful and proud family would consciously do business with a Muggle-born witch. Surely the Golden War hadn't affected their views that drastically.
She quickly read the letter through again, making sure she memorized the address and time at which she was to meet this Vitruvius Malfoy.
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, nine o' clock on Wednesday.
Wednesday?
Hermione, completely disoriented, glanced at the calendar hanging on her faded blue kitchen wall.
With a groan, Hermione jumped up from her seat and rushed out of her kitchen, grabbing her cloak as she ran past her clothing rack before sprinting out the front door.
She discreetly pointed her wand over her shoulder and cast a locking charm on her door as she jogged down the hallway, pulling on her cloak as she took the stairs two at a time.
She jumped down the last five steps and landed on the old, creaking wooden floor on all fours, poised like a frightened cat.
The room in which she presently was smelled strongly of vintage furniture and French perfume. It had elaborately carved and sculpted tables and bookcases and beds that looked, and were, hundreds of years old lined up against the crème colored walls, which had fading, yet still lovely, paintings and black and white photographs hung on ever square inch of it's surface.
In one corner of the room, there were racks upon racks of beautiful gowns and suits most likely from the Renaissance era, 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's clothes.
Hermione wasn't the least bit distracted by any of the splendors around her, but strode with practiced grace towards the front door, pulling on her silk gloves as she went.
As she swung open the door, she was met with a blast of noise from the busy street before her. She closed and locked the cherry wood door and looked up at the building she knew as her home.
It was a blue Victorian town house with white window shutters. An elegant, dark blue sign hung proudly on the front, baring in gold, calligraphic cursive the title: H&H's Antique and Vintage Clothing Shop. H&H's stood for Hermione & Holly's.
The sophisticated building waspoised between Flourish and Blotts Bookstore and a classy café, called Rabbit Eyes. (A/n: Rabbit Eyes café actually exists. I hope the owner won't mind me borrowing it for a while in my story. :)
Hermione sighed and glanced at her watch. 8:45. As she started striding down the crowded, cobblestone street, foxily dodging people, she quickened her pace when she saw Florean's in the distance.
As she finally, after a rather unpleasant experience with an obnoxious passerby who refused to move from her path, despite her polite cries, reached the parlor she was already three minutes late.
She combed through the tables with her large, sharp brown eyes for a platinum head, breathing slightly labored from her earlier struggle with the rude wizard.
Just when she was about to sit down at a vacant table and wait, she spotted a flash of two characteristic silver heads.
Sitting, (more like elegantly lounging) in the far corner were two unmistakable Malfoys. One, she immediately recognized by his long, shimmering mass of platinum locks and hidden eyes as Draco. The other, who had shoulder length hair of identical hue as her old Slytherin schoolmate, and exposed stormy grey eyes was most likely Vitruvius.
Both, she realized somewhat uneasily, were tragically beautiful.
She, on impulse, took out her large Hepburn sunglasses and quickly put them on. It wasn't wise to have naked eyes when in the presence of two Malfoys.
She began to weave her way around the tables, shoulders back and stride purposeful. She was the very image of someone who meant business.
They both respectfully stood up from their seats at seeing her approaching figure, and patiently waited for her to near.
"Good morning, gentlemen. I apologize for my delay," she said in a formal, clipped, yet relatively friendly tone.
"It's quite alright, Ms. Granger," said what she assumed was Vitruvius Malfoy. Draco, after shaking hands with her, and sending her a subtle smile, gentlemanly pulled out her chair. Both men waited until she was comfortably seated before also following example.
Vitruvius studied her face for a few moments, face devoid of emotion, and she stared back with her expression mirroring his own.
Finally, he smiled slightly and looked down to the papers lying on the table surface.
"Right, Ms. Granger, you obviously are interested in our offer..." he began in a lilting, smooth voice. Hermione winced slightly at the ever familiar, characteristic Malfoy voice. She wondered briefly if every wealthy pureblooded male was trained to have such ridiculously seductive voice. She felt lightheaded at the mere sound.
She nodded, shrugging off her cloak and hanging it on backrest.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. A few of the items grasped my interest, but I'm a afraid I am financially limited. I have yet to discuss this with my partner," she said, folding her gloved hands on the table.
Both Malfoys smirked almost simultaneously, sharing a glance that obviously signaled for something to be done or said. This made Hermione uneasy.
"Ms. Granger... Do not be dithered by financial limits. For you see..." began Vitruvius with a secret smile.
"... It's absolutely for free," finished Draco with a grin. A few beats passed in silence, where only the faint hum of voices around them was heard. Hermione stared at them blankly for a whole minute.
The two silver haired men waited patiently for a reaction. One which came surprisingly delayed.
She stared laughing.
"Hermione," began Draco with a kind smile, but any further attempt at communicating with her would be in vain, for she wasn't showing any sign of stopping her peals of mirth.
Suddenly, she abruptly stopped laughing and her expression turned grim and serious.
"I never thought Malfoys were ones to play jokes on other people. If you thought it would be funny to drag me out here with you, then you got your laugh. I'm leaving."
"Ms. Granger, please wait!" pleaded Vitruvius as she began to stand up, but she simply ignored his plea and began to slip on her cloak.
"I don't have time for this," she snapped, making to turn around. She was stopped by a leather glove that grasped her hand.
She turned around with a fierce expression to look up at the purple glasses obscuring Draco's eyes. She could see her angry reflection dancing in them.
"This is no joke. Let us explain," he said softly. She didn't know why she agreed, but half an hour she found herself back at the table sipping from a huge tankard of ice coffee.
"My, that is a rather large glass," commented Vitruvius as her sized up her ice coffee. She sent him a glare.
"You jerks better have explained everything by the time I drink this thing. Because that's as long as I'm staying," she warned, taking a huge gulp from the tankard.
"You see, Hermione, we're getting rid of Malfoy Manor," explained Draco in that damned lilting voice of his. Her eyes bulged, and she almost choked on her coffee.
Vitruvius sighed.
"And we have no use or need for all of the tons of furniture. We've been giving it out to the remained of our family, but they already have enough things to furnish half of Enlgand," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly.
Draco looked at her earnestly.
"It would be so nice of you to relieve us of most of our furniture. We would greatly appreciate it."
All she could do was laugh.
Authors notes: Guys, I am sooooooooo sorry!! I know this is a ridiculously short chapter, and it's not even good, and there are questions left unanswered... But this is all I could write in the VERY short periods of time that I am allowed on the puter. Yes, that's right, allowed. My parents, being the annoying jerks that they are, took away my laptop claiming that, "Computers are bad for your mind. You won't be able to concentrate on your studies." It's utter jack shit, if you ask me. But this means I won't be able to write very often. Meaning: less updates. I only get half an hour each day, IF I do all of my homework. And I have at least 10 kilos of homework each day. I usually use that time to check and reply to my mail, anyway. I'll try to write whenever I can... really I will. But don't expect too much. Once again, I'm really sorry!
To the three most fabulous people in the world...
total-nirvana: Hmm... I'm not sure why it's rated R. I thought it would be more dark-ish, but it turned out to be like, PG-13 materiel. Maybe I'll lower it... Anyway, thank you for your sweet words, doll! Mwah!
Miss Piratess: ::sigh:: I wish I knew how to write funny stories. I want to weave in some humor into DitG, but I'm not sure if it'll come out right. Anyway, onto replying to your lovely review! How did I come up with it? Well, it's been floating around in my head for some time, and I finally decided to spill it onto paper one fateful History class. I'm a bit lost with it right now... Just writing with the flow. It doesn't even have a stable plot line. Basically, it's about how Draco and Hermione deal with life after the War, and try to get back into swing. But they have issues to deal with first. Anyway, thank you sooo much for your very much appreciated and treasured words of encouragement! You are such an awesome person! Mwah!
paul is dead: Yes, bobs are very sexy. I'm glad you like Mione's looks. And I'm sorry to hear that Tom Wait's lyrics discouraged you to read my story, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Cheers!
Once again, I apologize for the upcoming lack of updates. I hope you all will be patient with me. Love ya, sweets!
Penny a.k.a. xXNHXx