Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 4- Visitors
By Marmalade Fever
Hermione had a headache. Marry Draco Malfoy or die... Confronted with this choice she was afraid she'd have to choose marriage... even if he was a slimy git. He had been exceptionally nice to her since he had come to her about the dilemma. That, though, was probably only due to the fact that he didn't want to die either. She sighed and watched as the last few stragglers at the party began shifting over to the door.
"Miss Granger?" It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy. She turned and gave him a forced look of calm. "Before Draco escorts you home, I wish to stress my seriousness in this matter. Either you allow him to court you for the remaining eleven months and allow the marriage to take place or else I will not hesitate to use an unforgivable curse on you. Is that clear?"
"Dreadfully."
"Also, the family would like to spend more time with you."
"Meaning?"
"You'll be moving in on Sunday."
Hermione was outraged. "What do you mean I'm moving in?"
"Oh, don't worry. You'll be living with Narcissa and myself. Draco will visit often, of course. You'll be given full range of the grounds, but you won't be permitted to leave without Draco's accompaniment."
"But why, pray tell? What would the point be?"
"Isn't it obvious? We can't very well let you wander off and get killed. Nor can we permit you to escape. Yes, Miss Granger, you'll be best off here."
"But I've got a job, a family, friends..."
"You can still see them, so long as you're with your fiancé. Speaking of whom, here he is now." Malfoy appeared, seeming to have at last finished his inspection of his mountainous pile of gifts. He led her out onto the grounds again and back onto his flying carpet.
"Your father is an absolute troll," Hermione puffed as she sat down.
"And your father is--oh wait. We aren't playing that game, are we?" Malfoy's eyes sparkled strangely. "Okay, let's go." They took off and were back on Hermione's stoop again in no time. "See you Sunday, then... darling," Malfoy laughed as he made to get back on his carpet.
"You better behave yourself or I might take the route of death and leave you to wallow in pain under a giant anvil."
The smirk on Malfoy's face was replaced by a flash of horror. "Alright, alright... Hug good-night dear?"
Hermione gave him a pained look. "You're sick, you know that?"
"I'm pushing my limits, aren't I?"
"You think?"
"Fine. My lady," he picked up her hand and kissed it. "Good-night." With a smirk, he settled himself and took off.
...
Hermione happened to have Saturday off, and it was a good thing too. Staying up'til two in the morning seemed to damage her performance at work. She got out of bed around noon and found her way into the kitchen, at which point she screamed. Malfoy was sitting at her table looking at a health book.
"What're you doing here?" was all she could find to say.
"Apparated in. Thought we could grab a bite to eat."
"A bite to eat?" She suddenly became aware of the fact that she was wearing her pajamas.
"Yeah, thought we could use some alone time before you move in with my parents." He was staring at her pajamas. "Bright pink? I'd have never thought it was in you."
"Yeah, well, if we're getting married then I guess there's still a lot for you to learn."
"So we are getting married? That's good. I kept having nightmares last night about anvils falling on my head. So how about lunch?"
"Oh, fine! Just wait here while I change, and don't touch anything!"
"Wouldn't dream of it." And then, in an undertone, "Wouldn't want to anyway."
Hermione had just started to pull on her right sock when she heard the front door open. "Oh, good, maybe he's leaving," she muttered to herself.
"Hermione, where--? MALFOY? What're you doing here!" came the voice of none other than Harry Potter from her kitchen. Hermione grabbed her left sock and her shoes and ran into the kitchen, right sock only halfway on her foot. She clutched at a stitch in her side as she surveyed the scene. Harry and Malfoy were standing, wands out, and poised for attack.
"Stop!" Hermione yelled. The two men stayed in position, though they both turned their eyes on her. "Harry, it's all right!"
"Yeah, Potter, everything's koo koo kachoo," Malfoy said, twiddling his wand and sitting down.
"Excuse me?" Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Hermione, what's going on? Why's Malfoy in your kitchen, of all places?"
"Mind if I fill this one, dear?" Malfoy said, causing Hermione to wince. "You see Potter, we are, how do you say, engaged."
"He's out of his head!" Harry said, looking over at Hermione. "Herm, what's he talking about?"
"It's a long story..." Hermione said, pulling at her sock. "The gist of it is that if I don't marry him, we're both going to die."
"I'm sorry, but did you say 'marry?'" Harry asked, looking dumbstruck. Hermione didn't answer but simply looked down at her mismatched feet.
After a very pregnant pause, Malfoy chimed in, "Look Potter, neither of us want this but at the same time, neither of us want anvils falling on our heads."
"Anvils?" Harry mouthed, as the front door swung open. A young woman with long, dark hair walked in.
"Harry, what's going on?" She was about five months pregnant.
"Penelope!" Hermione gasped, coming over and giving Harry's wife a hug.
"Oh, hi Hermione! It's so good to see you... Who's this? New beau perhaps?"
Malfoy shifted in his seat. "In a manner of speaking," Hermione muttered. "Draco Malfoy, Penelope Potter."
"Nice to meet you," Penelope said, smiling. Apparently she didn't notice the tension in the room. "Draco? That's a very interesting name. Are you named after the Athenian law maker or a dragon?"
"Er, both," Malfoy muttered, giving her a scrutinizing look.
"That's very interesting. Very interesting indeed," Penelope said, still smiling. "Oh dear," she said, her smile dropping. "The baby's kicking again. Our little Amy is going to be a foot ball player, I know it!"
"Foot ball...? Wait a minute, is she--?"
"I'm a muggle, yes," Penelope said, not noticing the danger sign Harry was trying to give her.
"Er," Harry said, "Pen, I think it would be best if we came back some other day."
"Hmm? Why?"
"We were about to go out to lunch," Hermione said, very quickly. "Harry, I'll send you a letter later and explain, okay?"
"Alright," Harry said, moving over to his wife and giving Malfoy the evil eye. "Just be careful, okay?"
"Yes, yes, now go," Hermione pleaded. Malfoy was still staring at Penelope. "See you, bye!" she said, as the door closed behind Harry and Penelope. She then rounded on Malfoy. "Say whatever it is you're going to say and be done with it."
"What? I wasn't going to say anything."
"Don't give me that codswallop."
"Grange-Hermione, really. Let's just go, okay?" He had gotten to his feet.
"Don't lie to me!" Hermione rounded.
"What, you want me to insult Potter's wife? Look, I just want us to get along, 'kay?"
"Fine then, let's go!" She sat down, pulled on her other sock, and did up her laces. Five minutes later they were standing outside of a burger stand.
"It's not going to kill you to talk to me, you know," Malfoy said, as they sat down with their burgers.
"Yes, but it'll kill me to not marry you, won't it?" A couple nearby exchanged a confused glance.
"Tell you what. Let's pretend like you aren't being threatened, okay? We were doing so much better when we were at dinner the other night."
"What do you care? This way you don't have to win me over."
Malfoy sighed. "What can I say, I guess I've always just pictured being married to someone who could actually stand the sight of me." Hermione snorted. "Why's that funny?"
"I'm trying to imagine anyone being able to stand the sight of you!"
Malfoy leaned back. "Why do I even bother?" he muttered.
"Frankly, I haven't a clue!"
"Look, tell you what. How about if I get my father to consider letting you stay at your house. Would that make you a bit more flexible?"
Hermione looked up, frowning. "I suppose, but what's in it for you?"
"Let's just say I'm a hopeless romantic," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.
"What? Were you being serious about the whole winning me over thing?"
"It would just be a lot easier to get along if you didn't feel like you were being forced."
"I am being forced!"
"...And so am I."
Hermione's face faltered as she looked into his mournful gray eyes. She paused, mouth half-open. "Oh."
