Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 6- Sunday
By Marmalade Fever
When Hermione walked into her kitchen that morning and found Malfoy sitting at her table once more, she managed to resist the urge to scream and only jumped about 3 inches or so off the ground. "You've got to stop doing that!"
"Oh, good morning, Sunshine," Malfoy said, checking his watch. "You're up a bit earlier this time."
"Didn't we agree that I'd come to your house, not vice versa?" Hermione asked, sidling over to the refrigerator and pouring herself a glass of juice.
"Well, there wasn't much going on over there, so I figured I'd find out what color pajamas you're wearing today. Blue huh?"
Hermione mumbled something under her breath. "They change color every week," she added aloud, with a bit of a groan. "So, now you know what my P.J.'s look like, you mind going home?"
Malfoy put on a face of mock hurt. "You know, I don't think I want to marry you. You're mean."
"Well, that makes two of us..."
This caused Malfoy to grin. "You want some breakfast?"
Hermione snorted. "Excuse me? I'm not letting you anywhere near my stove. You're liable to burn the house down."
Malfoy put on the same look of mock hurt. "Actually, Miss Know-it-all, I brought this." He reached down and lifted a picnic basket up off the floor.
"YOU made me breakfast?" Hermione asked, eyes the size of galleons.
"Well, no, my house-elf did. It's the thought that counts though, right?"
"You really amaze me sometimes..."
"So you do want some, eh?" Malfoy asked, eyes sparkling. He opened the basket and lifted out half a dozen scones, Devonshire cream, lemon curd, kippers, toast, and a stack of waffles.
Hermione's mouth started watering. "When you try and impress a girl, you really go all out, don't you?"
Malfoy shrugged as Hermione got out plates and utensils. Two scones, a waffle, and three kippers later, she was stuffed. "If I'm going to live with you, I'm going to have to start exercising or something." She glanced over at the wall. It was a quarter to noon. "I'm visiting my parents at half past twelve. I'll come over for the hair thing after that."
"You know, I'd kind of like to meet your parents. Have you told them about me yet?"
A look of horror came onto Hermione's face. "I don't think that's such a good idea, and no... I haven't told them yet."
"Oh, come on. I won't turn yer mum into a toad, promise."
"Malfoy..."
"I'll be a perfect gentleman. You don't even have to mention the whole marriage and death thing if you don't want to." He batted his eyelids. "Please?"
"Oh... fine! But remember, they're muggles. If you misbehave around them I might just drop that anvil on your head myself, got it?"
"No problem."
"And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go take a shower. I want you to wait outside, capeesh?"
"Whatever you say, Dearest..." Malfoy said, snickering. Hermione went to take her shower and Malfoy went outside and waited on the front steps. He'd been out there a couple of minutes when he spotted an owl swooping down. It looked as if it were planning to fly through the open window. Malfoy caught its attention and, with a struggle, managed to get the bird to surrender the letter to him. The bird pecked him a few times before flying off. "Dear Hermione, blah blah blah... Love Harry? Hmm... Better read this... Or should I?" Draco debated the dilemma with himself for a moment. Granger was in the shower and probably would be for another ten to twenty minutes. How would she ever know? He began to read:
Dear Hermione,
What in the world is going on? What do you mean you have to marry Malfoy? I mean, it's Malfoy! We hate him, or don't you remember? If that stupid, bloody git is threatening you, just say the word and I'll knock his lights out! Why would he want to marry you, anyway? No offense, but you aren't exactly his type. Wait a minute... you aren't a pureblood, are you? Nah... And what was that about you both being in danger of death?
Draco stopped reading. The letter went on for another foot of parchment. It was really rather boring to him. He might as well just leave it on the table for Granger to read later. Near the bottom though, he caught the name "Penelope."
...I can't believe we let him anywhere near Penelope. A muggle married to me and pregnant should, under no circumstances, be let near that horrid beast you call a fiancé. I really think you should get help, Hermione. Go to Dumbledore or something. He'd probably let you stay at the school and you'd be perfectly safe there. Anyway, Pen sends her love. See you later.
Love,
Harry
Draco whipped out his wand and changed the sentences about going to Dumbledore. It wouldn't do to let Granger get any smart ideas. He then carefully slipped back inside and put the letter on the table.
When Granger was ready, they apparated onto her parents' front lawn. She marched up to the front door and didn't even bother to knock.
"Mom, Dad!" she called.
"In here!" Mr. Granger called from the living room. "Oh, you brought someone?" he asked, as they entered. The man was sitting on the couch with a newspaper.
"Er," Granger said, "Dad, this is Draco Malfoy."
"Very nice to meet you," Mr. Granger said, standing up and offering his hand. Draco shook it, though a little apprehensively. "Mom's in the kitchen Hermione, why don't you go and say hello?" Granger left and Draco found himself alone with her father. He had a slightly receding hairline and wore a pair of glasses. "So," the man said, looking at Draco appraisingly, "how do you know Hermione?"
"We went to school together," Draco said.
"Oh, a Hogwarts man, eh? I doubt you've ever even heard of the school I went to."
"Er, probably not..." This was much more uncomfortable than he'd have thought. Why did he bug Granger to let him come, anyway?
"So, are you two friends, or...?" Mr. Granger asked, cleaning his glasses.
"Well," Draco wasn't sure how to answer this question. They weren't exactly friends. They weren't exactly enemies. They barely even liked eachother. He couldn't possibly answer by saying they were engaged. "We're, er, dating..." This seemed the closest thing to the truth he could think of.
"I figured as much. Granted, she was friends with those two other boys and that was the extent of it. I always did think it was odd for a young girl to be best friends with two boys and have absolutely nothing come of it."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." He'd always figured that she'd end up with either Weasley or Potter. Himself though, that he'd never have guessed.
"So, how long have you two been seeing each other?"
"Less than a week."
"And she's introducing you to us already? Golly, she must be really serious about you two. The last boyfriend she had, she didn't even tell us about him for eight months. Said she didn't think it would last and didn't bother."
"Oh?" This information startled Draco slightly. True, he had forced his invitation, but still... Granger and her mother entered the room. Draco stood accordingly.
"Mum, this is Draco Malfoy," Granger said, putting on what Malfoy knew to be a fake smile.
"Oh, dear, he's lovely!" Mrs. Granger whispered to her daughter, though Draco heard every word. He saw Granger's face blush. "Don't you think?" She gave only the slightest of nods.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Granger," Draco said, pretending to not have noticed.
"Oh, please. That makes me feel so old. Call me Margery."
"Okay... Margery," Draco said, slowly.
"And call me Ted," Mr. Granger said.
...
Two hours later they waved goodbye to the Grangers and apparated over to Draco's house.
"Your parents are not quite what I expected," Draco admitted as he led the way to the bathroom.
"And what exactly did you expect?" Granger asked.
"I'm not sure, really..." Truth be told, they hadn't been quite as stupid as he would have supposed that muggles would be. They just seemed like regular, run-of-the-mill parents who happened to not use magic. "Here we are. Sit down."
Granger sat and Draco squirted some gel onto his palm. "Some" was a bit of an understatement. Granger had a lot of hair, and therefore needed a lot of gel. He then grabbed a comb and began pasting her hair flat onto her head. "So what exactly did you want to do with my hair?" she asked as she watched the process in the mirror.
"Nothing in particular. My hair's so thin that it isn't much of a challenge. Yours though..."
"You're really rather weird, you know that?"
"Got a problem with it?"
"No. It's rather nice to see this side of your personality, actually." Draco gelled her hair back and rolled the rest of it into a bun on the back of her head.
"Well, you don't look like me, anyway," he said, washing the stuff off his hands.
"It's not bad," Granger admitted. "How long until it's hard as rock?"
"Not too long at all."
She touched her head, gingerly. "It's hard already!"
"Told ya," Draco said, helping her to her feet. He looked at her and was surprised to feel his stomach squirm. She was pretty, she really was. There was no more use denying it to himself. She might be a mudblood, but at least she's my mudblood, he found himself thinking.
"Well, I'm going to go home now," she said, still touching her hair.
"Alright..." he said, still watching her.
"Everything okay?"
"Hmm?"
"You're staring at me," Granger said, lifting an eyebrow.
"Just, just wondering how you'd look as a blonde, that's... that's all."
"Okay..." Hermione said, disbelievingly. "See you then."
"Yeah, see you." Draco felt like an idiot.
