Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 11-Out of the Shop
By Marmalade Fever
Draco ignored the stares of passersby as he marched into Flourish and Blotts. The place was downright packed, and it could scarcely be five after eight. He wriggled through the crowd, paying no heed to the flashes going off and the quick-quotes quills scratching away around him. Where was she? She'd probably done the smart thing and escaped to one of the employee-only areas. He marched primly towards the back room and stopped. He could hear voices. One of them was clearly Granger's. The other belonged to the Weasel-King.
A moment later, the tall, gangly figure of Weasley came through the door. He gave Draco a meaningful look and continued on through the store. Draco watched as the red-head disappeared from view. He then slipped through the door.
"Here too, eh?" he asked, referring to the mob of reporters outside. She turned her head, and he caught his breath. She looked about ready to break out into tears again... Oh brother, what had he done this time?
"I think I'll take that hug now," she said. Draco's mind flashed back to the day before. Well, if she wanted a hug, he wasn't going to deny it to her! Draco opened his arms for her and, to his amazement, watched as she slipped into them and immediately began sobbing onto his shoulder. What could possibly have brought on this sudden change? It must have been Weasley. In that case, it seemed he owed him a debt of gratitude. Granger was still sobbing onto his shoulder. The top of her head was just brushing against his cheek. Her hair had an odd sort of spring to it. At the same time, it felt crunchy, but in a good way. It was almost as if her hair served as a sort of cushion. Further down, the other end of her hair was brushing against his hands. It tickled slightly. Draco breathed in softly. She had a sweet shampoo scent about her. It had a calming effect on him. By far, this was the best hug he'd ever had. It was a relatively simple joy, but it felt so empowering to have someone give him this sort of... trust. And so he simply stood there and soaked in his present position until he felt her pull away.
"Sorry about that," she said, running a palm over her face. Suddenly it seemed like it would be horribly romantic if he were to hold her head and brush a tear off with his thumb. Too late though, no tears in sight.
"No problem," he replied. "Listen, I don't think you should work today. Is there anyone you can get to come in?"
She thought for a moment. "I suppose I could floo Lulu... Come on, there's a fireplace in the office." He followed her out through the door, ignoring the ever-present reporters, and into a shabby-looking office. She took a pinch of dust, ducked her head in, and was out again in no time. "She'll be here in ten minutes."
"Good," Draco said, nodding. "There are things that need planning. We need to get together sometime and decide on the details of the wedding."
She nodded, though slowly.
"You also need to meet with my mother. She's throwing you a shower in a couple months. Have to go over the guest-list, I suppose."
"Alright... anything else?"
"Well, there was one more thing..." Draco said, looking serious.
"And what would that be?" Granger asked, squinting at him.
"Well... now don't go jumping to conclusions, but my travel agent's been hounding me... Where do you want to go for our honey-moon?" Just as he'd expected, the color drained from her face. "Come on, it's a relatively simple question. Just pick a country, any country."
"Er..." she said, seemingly having just relocated her tongue, "surprise me?"
Draco sighed with relief. "Fine," he said, "one surprise, coming up." True enough, his travel agent had sent him what must have been seven owls since the word had gone out yesterday. What was worse, those owls had been trained to scratch. Now he was free to decide by himself... without suffering any wounds. Granger had sat down on a chair in the corner and was staring down at her watch. Whoever this Lulu was had another eight minutes in which to get there.
"Well," he said, "what do you want to do today?"
Granger didn't reply immediately. "I don't know," she said at last.
"How does planning sound to you?" Draco asked, though personally it was about the last thing he felt like doing today.
Granger shrugged. "I usually hang out with Ginny on Monday nights. Guess we have a few hours to go until then, though."
"Well, whatever we decide to do, let's make it somewhere a little less public," Draco said, gesturing toward the door where a hundred echoing voices were resonating.
"Or at least where no one would care that we're engaged," she said, hopelessly. "Like muggle-London or something, but I can't imagine you out there," she added.
"Come now, I went with you to your parents' house only last week!"
"Yeah, but they know about witches and wizards, don't they?" Granger said, almost snobbily.
"You've got to stop insulting me like this," Draco said, with a wink. "If you want to go to muggle-London, then we're going to muggle-London," he said, firmly.
A moment later, a plump witch with oval-shaped glasses Apparated into the room. "Lulu, I'm so glad you could come on such short notice," Granger said.
"Oh, it's no problem dear. I was beginning to get bored with my cross-word puzzle anyway... The clues always seem to have something to do with the Weird Sisters... Anyway, you just go ahead and do whatever you can to get away from the media, and--" she suddenly noticed Draco's presence "-great Scott! It's really him, isn't it? Mr. Malfoy, I am a HUGE fan!"
Fan? What sort of fans did he have? "It's very nice to meet you... Tell me, what exactly is it that you're a fan of?"
"I read your book, 'Life of the Rich, but Misunderstood.' It changed my life!"
Granger had put on a sudden look of utmost amusement. Draco groaned silently. Would that stupid book ever stop haunting him? True, it had brought him up in popularity by 25 , but any well-read reader saw it for just what it was, over-sentimental drivel. He hadn't even done the actual writing himself. He had meant to read it through first before allowing it to go to the publishers, but he'd been particularly prone to procrastination at the time. Granger, apparently, had not been fooled at all. Lulu on the other hand... "Well, it's always great to meet a fan. We need to get going now, though. Thank you for filling in for Gr-Hermione." He latched his hand onto her shoulder and steered her out of the office. "Don't say it," he muttered.
"I wasn't going to say anything," she said, smiling innocently as they made a bee-line for the door.
"They're leaving!" a tall reporter with a brown bowler said, pointing at them and causing a sudden scramble towards the door. People were shouting questions at them like crazy.
"No comment!" Draco shouted as he wrenched the door open and pushed himself and Granger out. "Come on!" he said, leading her down the street and into the back alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. They hastily made their way through the pub and out into Muggle-London. Almost immediately, muggles began giving them strange looks. It wasn't much of a surprise, since both of them were still wearing robes. Draco looked around uncertainly. He'd very seldom gone into Muggle-inhabited areas. Granger, on the other hand, was marching smartly down the sidewalk, and he had to run to catch up.
"So, where should we go?" he asked, as they went around a corner.
"Oh, you'll see," she said, smiling once more. They walked down a few more blocks and straight into a train station. She placed a few coins into a machine, pressed a few buttons, and two tickets popped out. A moment later they were crammed inside a crowded car without seats.
"Where are we going?" Draco repeated his question, as the doors closed and the train began to move.
"You'll see," she said, simply.
"Hmm," Draco said, holding onto a pole as the train lurched slightly. She brushed against him as she attempted to maintain her balance. He put his hand firmly on her shoulder to keep her steady and noticed a blush go through her cheeks. Well, she obviously wasn't mad at him anymore or at least not very. The train stopped a few minutes later, and they got off. They walked out onto the street and down a few more blocks.
"Here we are," she said, gesturing to a large building in front of them.
"You have got to be kidding me," Draco said, staring up at a sign, reading, "Hugh's Bowlerama."
"Come on," she said, leading the way inside.
"Shoe sizes?" a woman behind a desk asked, as Draco looked around with concern. Muggle entertainment, he'd never get it. Why anyone would want to throw a ball down a strip of wood floor just to knock over some odd white puns, or whatever they were called, was beyond him.
"Size seven and, er Draco? What size do you wear?" Granger asked, looking over at him.
"I'm not sure," he replied, never having worn muggle clothing before.
The woman behind the desk groaned and pointed out a shoe-sizing chart on the floor. He pulled off his shoe and lined his foot up with one of the neon-colored feet on the mat. "Twelve," he said, with uncertainty.
The woman shook her head and came around the desk and peered down at the feet. "Ten and a half, dear," she said. Draco noticed that the woman reeked of cigarette smoke, yet another thing he'd never understand about muggles. The woman returned to the desk and pulled out two pairs of shoes. Granger paid, and they made their way to their lane.
"Put your shoes on," Granger instructed.
"Yeah, I got that part," Draco said back, haughtily.
"Then we need to choose balls," she said, unperturbed. Behind them was a shelf full of bowling balls. "It needs to have the right size finger holes and be heavy, but not too heavy."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Draco said, though he was secretly hitting himself for not realizing that the odd holes in the balls were for fingers. He selected a dark blue ball and watched as Granger entered their initials into some sort of machine. D.M. and H.G. appeared on a screen above them. "Just think, not long from now you'll be H.M. instead."
"Goody-goody gumdrops," Granger said sarcastically. "Okay, so it's my turn first. Watch me closely." She walked out onto the wooden floor, brought her arm out, swung it backwards, crouched over, walked forward, and swung. Her ball went racing down the lane and knocked over the two right puns. "Now, my ball is going to come back up and I'm going to try and knock over the rest of the pins." Pins, Draco thought to himself, pins, not puns. Her ball came rolling out of another machine and she went through the strange gestures again, knocking the rest of the pins over. She pointed up to the screen. "See that slash? It means my score was a spare. That's when I knock over all the pins in two tries."
"Good job," Draco said, picking up his own ball and walking out onto the polished floor. He crouched over, swung his arm back, and sent the ball soaring. It went straight into the gutter.
"Don't worry, you get two chances," Granger said cheerily. Draco groaned and waited for his ball to come back. He tried again... it went into the gutter even earlier. An ominous zero appeared on the screen. "Better luck on your next turn, trust me," Granger said, smiling a little too kindly and picking up her own ball. She sent it sailing down the lane and knocked all the pins down. She pointed up to the screen. "See that X? It's called a strike. It's your turn again."
Draco picked up his ball and marched out onto the floor. This was getting embarrassing. She could hardly even fly, yet he was the one that was looking like a loser. He gritted his teeth and tried again. The ball stayed in the center of the lane, swerved, and landed in the gutter two feet before it would have knocked down a pin. He waited, his back to Granger, and picked up his ball. It was now or never; he needed a spare. He stepped forward, bent over, swung his wrist back, and threw the ball down the lane. It bounced. Granger's ball hadn't bounced. It skidded and came to a halt in the center of the lane. Come on, he couldn't have done that badly! Someone behind him was snickering. He turned. There, next to Granger, stood Potter and his bride. Potter was stuffing something into his pocket.
"Hello Draco, it's nice to see you again," the almost too friendly Penelope Potter said.
Draco didn't say anything, instead staring icily at her husband. "You better go get that," Potter said, pointing down the lane at Draco's ball. Draco began to withdraw his wand. "Not so fast, there are muggles here," he hissed.
"Why don't you get it then?" Draco asked.
"I don't have my shoes on," Potter said, shrugging.
"How about if I get it?" Granger said, sounding torn.
"No," the two men said in unison.
"Well for heaven's sake, why not?" she asked, resting her hands on her hips.
"You could slip," Potter said automatically.
Granger groaned, picked up her own ball, and sent it down the lane after Draco's, knocking it into the gutter and still managing to knock over two pins. D.M.'s score now read 0/2. Both men stared at her in surprise. "Did I mention I'm good at pool as well?" she asked.
"Hermione, you're good at everything!" Potter said, smiling at her. Draco didn't like the way he was smiling at her. He glanced over at Penelope. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing? No, she was smiling too.
Draco put his arm around Granger's shoulders. "She sure is," he said, giving Potter a look. Potter frowned and so did Granger.
"Well," she said, ducking out from under his arm, "do you two want to join us?"
"No thanks, we're just picking up Pen's nephew from a birthday party," Potter said, sounding like his normal self. "There he is now," he said, pointing towards a six-year-old boy amid a jumble of other kids and adults.
"No school today?" Granger asked with interest.
"Yeah, three-day weekend," Penelope said, nodding and waving her nephew over.
"Uncle Harry!" the little boy cried and started running over. His lips were stained red from punch. "Aunt Penny! Are you taking me home? Cool! I like it at your guy's house."
"Hey Nathan! You remember Aunt Hermione?" Penelope asked.
"Yeah, you're the one who makes the really good cake!" Nathan said, smiling up at Granger. "I don't want any right now though; I'm stuffed." He noticed Draco. "Hi! Who're you?"
"This is Mr. Malfoy, Nathan. He and Hermione are getting married," Penelope informed him.
"REALLY? Cool! If you have kids, can they come over to my house and play? Amy can come too," he said, gesturing to Penelope's stomach.
"We'll see," Draco said, feeling uncomfortable. Granger and Potter seemed to be having similar reactions. Penelope, however, just smiled.
"Hey Nathan, how about we go get in the car? We've got a new video game you can try out," Potter said.
"Alright!" Nathan cried. The three of them left.
"Want to finish playing?" Granger asked, cautiously.
"Not really," Draco replied, glancing up dismally at the score board.
"Yeah, me neither. Let's go."
End Notes:
Nathan is based on a little boy who, when I was about seventeen, asked me if he could play with my kids. I told him I might not have any for ten years, but he didn't seem to believe me... Also, shoe sizes are UK compatible.
