Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 5- Burgers, Hair-Gel, and a Dress
By Marmalade Fever
Draco carefully averted his eyes. A thought had just come to him. Perhaps this would work out after all. He had never thought of her as ugly, except perhaps for her hair... and her teeth. The latter were different than they once had been. It seemed to him that they had been longer when they were young. Now they were perfectly proportioned. They were downright nice now.
"So," he said, after a while. "Where's the cutlery, anyway?"
Granger started laughing again. What could be so funny about asking where the silverware was? "It's a hamburger. You eat them with your hands." Draco had heard about such things. Really though, this seemed downright barbarous. Eat with his hands? Ha! The idea was laughable. He watched as she unwrapped her burger and picked it up and took a large bite out of the side. He wrinkled his nose. She sighed. "I'm sure if you ask the man behind that counter he'll give you a knife and fork."
"I think I will." He returned a moment later holding a plastic knife and a plastic fork. They were absolutely useless. The knife didn't cut and the food wouldn't stay on the fork.
"Just try using your hands. It's not that bad!" Granger said, clearly amused by his troubles. She continued to eat her own burger as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He wouldn't give up though. He might be consenting to marry a mudblood, but he wasn't going to stoop down that low.
...
Hermione watched as Malfoy slowly ate his burger. He didn't finish until well after she did. He could be so stubborn. In a way it was actually a little cute. He hadn't touched his fries yet. If he was going to eat them with a fork, she didn't think she would ever stop laughing.
"So," she said, as she watched him, "I'd really appreciate it if you would ask your father about that. No offense, but I really don't want to live with your parents."
"That's understandable. Yeah, I think I can talk him out of it. I mean, so long as you don't move to Antarctica or something..."
Hermione smirked. "I don't think the penguins would be too happy if I did that."
"Yeah, and we'd track you down anyway," Malfoy said, almost incoherently. Hermione frowned and Malfoy quickly changed the subject. "You know, it's funny, but I've always wanted to gel your hair."
"What?" Hemione said, completely confused.
"Your hair, I've always wanted to try gelling it."
"That's got to be the strangest thing someone's said to me lately," Hermione said, looking flabbergasted.
"Stranger than my asking you to marry me?"
"I dunno, close call really." She grinned. "Can I touch your hair?"
"Er," Malfoy said, frowning slightly. "Go ahead." Hermione reached over and patted his head. His hair felt almost exactly like a helmet. "That's enough, I don't want you to mess it up." Hermione leaned back again. Her fingers were ever-so-slightly sticky now.
"Tell you what, if you can convince your father to let me stay at my house, you can gel my hair." Hermione ran this sentence through her head. Somehow it sounded like a very strange thing to tell Draco Malfoy.
"Deal," Malfoy said, smirking. "We can go ask him right now, if you want."
"The sooner the better really. He did want me moved in by tomorrow."
Malfoy stood up, his fries still uneaten. They walked to a secluded alleyway behind the restaurant. "We can apparate to my house and walk from there," he said, and they did. A moment later they were standing in his living room. It was actually a rather nice house. The furniture was exquisite and there wasn't quite so much dark arts memorabilia as she would have thought. He led her through a door and into a library. Then they went through a study and from there into a large hall. One last door led them outside. "It's a twenty minute walk to the edge of their property. My carpet's being cleaned. I could get out a couple of firebolts if you want, though."
Hermione, a little frightened at the idea, said that she'd rather walk. The trees along the road were gorgeous. Malfoy, however, seemed unimpressed by the scenery. They walked along in silence for a while. Hermione noticed several places that looked ideal for reading... She guessed that she probably would end up spending a lot of the rest of her life outside and reading. It would be a good way to get away from her future in-laws. She glanced over at Malfoy. He was staring straight ahead. He seemed so quiet now. He was much more bearable this way. They reached the edge of the Malfoy Manor's property and made their way along the extensive lawn toward the enormous front doors. The same house-elf she had seen the night before greeted them.
"Announce our arrival," Malfoy said bluntly to the elf.
"Yes, please announce our arrival. Thank you," Hermione couldn't help saying. Malfoy didn't comment. The elf returned a minute later and led them to an office several floors up.
"Sir's son and the bushy-head girl for you," the elf said and backed out of the room with his head bowed.
Lucius Malfoy, hair swaying gently, lifted his head. "What is it, Draco?"
Hermione suddenly felt weak in the knees. Could Malfoy actually convince his father? She wasn't so sure now.
"Father," Malfoy said, sounding firm, "I don't think it's necessary for Miss Granger to live here. Under the circumstances, I think it would be better to allow things to happen... naturally."
"I see," Malfoy senior said, picking up a quill and balancing it on his finger. "And this is your idea, Draco?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
"Miss Granger, would you please step out for a moment?"
Hermione, feeling very nervous all of a sudden, left the room. Outside the door, she found the same house-elf waiting patiently. He was wearing a dish-cloth around his middle. "Would Miss like to visit with Madame Malfoy?" he asked.
"Okay," Hermione said, giving the door a glance and following the house-elf. She didn't hear any yelling. She hoped that meant things were going well. They didn't go very far. Mrs. Malfoy was perched on a couch in a sitting room.
"Aw, Miss Granger," she said, standing. "Come here dear, let me get a good look at you." She stood and examined Hermione, holding her fingertips as she did so. "You know, I think it just might fit."
"What might?" Hermione asked, intrigued.
"Oh, my wedding dress. If you don't mind, I'd like you to wear it." Narcissa Malfoy didn't seem nearly as snobby alone than she did when she was with her husband. Her nose was still lifted slightly, though.
"Well," Hermione said slowly, "my own mother might want me to wear hers..." This was a bit of a lie. She knew perfectly well that her mother's dress had a large stain on the front from a mishap with some wedding cake. She didn't especially want to agree to anything until she'd seen this dress.
Mrs. Malfoy laughed. It was a very shrill, almost fake sort of laugh. "My dear, isn't your mother a muggle? I think it would be much more... appropriate for you to wear my dress."
Hermione felt her face redden, but didn't say anything. Instead she allowed Mrs. Malfoy to lead her up to her closet and show her the dress. Hermione didn't want to admit it, but she fell in love with that dress the moment she laid eyes on it. It was ivory with slender sleeves that opened at the palm and pointed down over her fingertips. It was perfectly smooth except for some rosettes that lined the waist. Besides that, it fitted perfectly. Some vain part of her admitted that she'd be willing to marry Malfoy just to be able to wear this dress.
Some time later the house-elf told her that "young Master Malfoy is waiting in the lobby." They walked back to his house and on the way he informed her that she wasn't going to be moving into his parents' house after all. He didn't want to say more, though.
"How about we schedule the hair-gelling for tomorrow?" he said, as they reached his house.
"Alright, I'll see you then," Hermione said, not wanting to upset him. She couldn't imagine that his conversation with his father had gone well.
