A/N: I'm so sorry for making you wait nearly a month for this. I had writer's block with this chapter and school just started, so I'm pretty busy…but I'll do my best to get these up faster! Thank you for reviewing! You guys give me something to look forward to!
Chapter 3 – Stretch shorts and Orange Pulp
During the second week of the summer between sixth and seventh year, Draco did something he wouldn't even had considered a few days beforehand.
He came back to Hermione Granger and asked for her help.
And on that day, she did something that left him humiliated and angry but little surprised.
She refused.
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"Granger."
Hermione didn't answer, but continued flipping through what looked suspiciously like a charms textbook.
"Grangerrrr…"
Hermione took a loud sip out of her iced tea and adjusted her hat.
"Granger!"
"What do you want now, Malfoy?" she sighed, still immersed in the textbook.
"Granger, I've come to offer you a proposition."
"If it has anything to do with my helping you out or giving you a grand tour of London, then you might as well forget it."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco drawled. "I've come to make a deal with you."
"A deal?" Hermione sputtered, choking on her iced tea. "Do I really look that thick, Malfoy? You don't use compromises, you use tricks and manipulation!"
"Why Granger, you don't have to be so judgemental," Draco said, feigning hurt. "Now listen to me. Due to some unexpected obstacles, my Muggle Studies research has been going rather slowly."
"So I heard," Hermione grumbled. "Look, Malfoy, I already said no. You got yourself into this, and you'll have to get yourself out of it."
"Come on, Granger! It won't be that hard…and once we're through, I'll pay you with this." Draco emptied a small pouch of Galleons into her lap.
Hermione rolled her eyes and scooped up the coins. "You – are – positively- vile," she seethed. "What do you take me for, your personal employee? There are three reasons why I won't help you, Malfoy, so listen up."
Draco cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "I'm ready when you are," he replied idly.
"Firstly, you foolishly refused my help twice. Secondly, you didn't ask for my help yesterday, you demanded it. Thirdly, you tried to bribe me! I can't believe you!" She shoved her charms textbook under her arm and stood up from the lawn chair. "Goodbye, Malfoy, and have a great summer."
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That night, Draco lay in bed with a stubborn bout of insomnia.
It'd been uncharacteristic for him to go back to the little Mudblood for help (he shuddered at the thought) but there really hadn't been anything else he could do.
There was just no more denying it. It'd been nearly two weeks since his father had sent him here, and during that time span, he accomplished next to nothing. Somehow, he doubted Lucius would be content with the observation "Muggles are freaks."
What troubled Draco the most, however, was not the fact that he'd practically admitted defeat to Granger, but that Lucius had practically suggested he do so in the first place. After all, wasn't it Lucius who arranged that he live next to Granger? Why would Lucius, who was a pureblooded supremist if Draco ever saw one, purposely set up his son with a Muggle-born witch?
This could only mean one thing. Draco would use Hermione Granger as a tool, and once the summer was over, he'd be rid of her. Granger was intelligent, economical, and resourceful, which Draco could use to his advantage. The best thing about her, however, was that she was, well, kind-hearted.
So maybe she hadn't been that nice to him for the last few days, but he knew he'd break her eventually. Merlin, she was Hermione Granger, house-elf rights advocate and one-third of Dumbledore's fighting frenzy. She befriended people like Longbottom and Weasley. She warmed up to werewolves and half-giants. Hell, it was enough that she'd volunteered to help him in the first place!
He'd break her if it took him all next month.
Still unable to sleep, Draco slid out of bed and headed to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Grumbling to himself about sleeping draughts, he shuffled toward the refrigerator (which he'd only learned was there four days ago) and threw it open, bathing the kitchen in warm orange light and frosty mist.
With the lights still turned off, he took a large gulp of water and seated himself on the couch.
"You shouldn't leave the refrigerator open, you know," a female voice said in the darkness.
Bolting upward, Draco flipped on a light switch to find Hermione Granger seated on the easy chair beside him. "Granger!" he yelped, nearly dropping his glass. "How the hell did you get in here?"
Hermione flicked her wand upward and tucked back into her jeans pocket. "Alohomora," she replied silkily. "It's so convenient being of age. And you really should close the refrigerator door."
"You're intruding on personal property," Draco growled, standing up and slamming the door shut. "It's past midnight, so get out of here."
Hermione snorted derisively. "Excuse me? Personal property? This isn't even your home!"
"You know what I mean," Draco sat back down and stared pointedly at her. "How long have you been waiting here?"
"It's been nearly half an hour," Hermione said, glancing at her watch. "And if you hadn't come down just now, I would've woken you up."
"Craving some action, Granger?" Draco drawled, now fully recovered from the surprise of seeing her in his living room. "You could've just asked, you know, but then again I would've refused…"
"Shove it, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "Tomorrow morning, you and I, right here and ready to go – "
"Why Granger!" Draco cackled delightedly. "I knew y-"
"I thought I told you to shove your dirty mind, Malfoy!" Hermione continued. "From tomorrow until you leave, you'll let me teach you how to live the Muggle life. You got that?"
"Wait – you've changed your mind?" Draco asked skeptically.
"Suffering doesn't favor you," Hermione replied. "I'll meet you here tomorrow with a list of goals and a projected agenda for the summer. Just be awake, cooperative, and ready to learn."
"Whatever you say, Granger," Draco said, leaning back into the couch. "Now go – I've got to get some sleep."
But she was already gone.
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"Rise and shine!"
Draco groaned and pulled the covers over his head as he heard the curtains being thrown open. "Granger," he whined. "It's too early for this."
"It's never to early to learn," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "Now get up! We have a lot to do today."
"Come back in two hours, Granger," Draco muttered, pulling the covers farther over his head. "I need my sleep."
He'd nearly dozed off again when the covers suddenly flew off him, revealing….
"EEK!"
"I told you to sod off, Granger!" Draco yelped, grabbing a pillow to shield his nearly-bare bottom. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"You asked for it," Hermione growled, blushing furiously. "Now – now put on some clothes and meet me downstairs."
"Fine, fine, fine," Draco said perterbedly, rising from the queen-sizer and running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.
He squinted slightly against the sun before glaring at Hermione, who stood watching him at the end of the bed. "Excuse me," he said firmly, grasping the tan and white striped coversheet around his waist and sweeping past her. "My privacy, Granger."
"Ten minutes, Malfoy," Hermione replied, still blushing slightly as she edged past him and stepped out the door. "I'll be waiting."
Twenty minutes later, Hermione sat alone in the living room tapping her foot impatiently.
Honestly, what was taking him so long? Guys never spent that long primping themselves (or by the look of Harry and Ron most mornings, guys didn't primp themselves at all.) But then again, Malfoy was an exception. He was a spoiled, egotistical little brat who wore nothing but little black stretch shorts to sleep.
Black stretch shorts. Hermione could just imagine how the girls in Hogwarts would react if they'd laid eyes on what she'd unfortunately seen that morning. They weren't styled like exercise shorts either – they were shorter than boxers, ending about five inches below his groin….
Hermione shuddered and ventured to the kitchen, where she inspected the refrigerator and food cabinets. All were nearly devoid of fresh food – Malfoy and the Carters sure managed to clean up well. She extracted a neatly folded list from her jeans pocket, crossed off a few items, and added a couple more.
Hermione checked her watch again. Had Malfoy died or something? What did he do, slip on the soap and lapse into a coma? She stormed down the hallway and pounded on the door. "Malfoy!" she yelled above the sound of the shower running. "Are you nearly done?"
"Nearly done?" came Draco's voice from the other side of the door. "Granger, I've just begun conditioning my hair!"
"COINDITIONING YOUR HAIR?" Hermione screeched. "Does the word 'metrosexual' mean anything to you, Malfoy? Not even I take this long to wash myself!"
"I would've known that by the looks of your hair," Draco drawled, dropping a bar of soap. "Oops, clumsy me…."
"You'd better be out of there in five minutes or you can just forget about my helping you!" Hermione threatened, stalking back out the hall. It was already past ten – they were wasting time, precious time….
She waited in the living room for a few minutes but found that she couldn't stand it any longer. "Malfoy!" she bellowed again, "are you nearly done?"
"Relax, Granger," Draco called back leisurely. "I'm just rinsing o- "
Hermione didn't hear him finish. She made her way to the second bathroom, and without bothering to turn on the light, placed her finger over the toilet flusher and gave him a final warning. "All right Malfoy, you asked for it!" she yelled, and shoved down the handle as hard as she could.
Hermione smiled deviously to herself at the sound of the toilet flushing embroiled with Draco's sharp yelping and swearing. "WHAT THE CRAP, GRANGER!"
"It's ironic that you should use that terminology," Hermione chirped. "Now get your arse down here or you'll be left with much bigger problems than what I've already given you!"
Hermione heard the door unlock and watched as Draco Malfoy emerged from the bathroom amidst a thick cloud of steam. He glared pointedly at her before breaking into his trademark smirk. "I know you like me to stand here and let you stare, Granger, but I really must get dressed."
"Shut up and get some pants on," Hermione snapped, blushing once again.
She waited only ten minutes before Draco arrived in the living room, fresh and clean and smelling vaguely of Irish Spring. "Well?" he said, sitting down across from her.
"Now that you've finally decided to show up, I'll show you our agenda for today," Hermione said briskly, whipping out the folded piece of paper and smoothing it out in front of him. "Today, we will learn the bare necessities of living. You'll learn the basics of a Muggle home, such as cooking, communication, and plumbing. These things will allow you to live as comfortably as if you were retired."
"Retired. Right," Draco repeated after her. "So, when do I eat? I'm starved."
"Lesson One," Hermione said dutifully, rising from the couch. "Making breakfast." She led him into the kitchen by the hook of his arm. "This is the kitchen."
"Obviously," Draco muttered, yanking his arm from hers. "Now hurry up, Granger, my stomach can't wait that long."
"And this, as you probably already know, is a toaster," she continued. "After you master using this thing, I'll introduce you to the electric stove."
"I already know how to use a toaster!" Draco protested. "I've used it dozens of times!"
"And produced charcoal," Hermione said dryly. "C'mon, I'm gonna show you how to really make a meal." She opened her backpack and took out a small loaf of sliced bread. "Now listen and learn."
Draco scowled but remained silent as he watched her push two pieces of white bread into the vents and adjust the timer accordingly. "While that's going, we're going to make something to drink," she said, extracting a three oranges from her knapsack. "While manufactured juice is tasty, affordable, and readily available, I find home-squeezed juice more healthy and practical," Hermione said, plugging in a little white contraption. "This is an electric juicer."
"Is everything here powered by electricity?" Draco asked out of the blue. So that was what the holes in the wall were for.
"More or less," Hermione replied. "It's really quite ingenious. Electricity works by – "
"I know how it works," Draco interrupted her. "Now move it, Granger, I'm a very busy man."
"Ask me a question, and expect a thorough answer," Hermione remarked coldly, slicing the orange in half. "Now hold this upside down and place it firmly on the juicer."
Draco squeezed down as hard as he could while Hermione flicked on the switch. "Here you go," she said shortly, handing him a glass of pulpy orange liquid.
Draco took a large swig of the juice and licked his lips. "Not bad, Granger. Not bad at all."
A/N: I'm sorry that you waited so long for this chapter and it turned out to be so short and uneventful. I just needed to get the major event here out of the way till I could really get going. I already have big plans for the future chapters! Next time: Draco Malfoy….master of household appliances? More D/Hr interaction!
The next one will be up much sooner, I promise!