Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 21- Valentine's Day

By Marmalade Fever

Disclaimer: The Princess Bride belongs to William Goldman, Rob Reiner, and several other wonderful, wonderful people who should know that I hold them in the highest regards.

February 14th fell on a Sunday. Hermione had decided to spend the day as she usually did, which entailed watching a romantic movie while eating junk food. This year she wasn't quite as mopey as usual, though. Since Antoine's confirmation that Draco was, indeed, in denial, Hermione had found herself extremely optimistic. She was near positive that this time next year she would be married. It was very nice to think about. And so, she was spending today as her last bachelorette Valentine's Day.

She had rented a few movies. The titles at the video store hadn't been in as bad of shape as they normally were. In fact, she had actually managed to get some good one's for once. She bent over the small stack in her living room, set aside An Affair to Remember for later, and grabbed at the next one. She popped it into her DVD player and watched happily as she was sucked into the country of Florin, watched sadly as Buttercup received news of her beloved's death, and smiled sweetly as Buttercup was rescued, and/or kidnapped, by the Man in Black.

"He was a farmboy-poor. With eyes like the sea after a storm..." Hermione sighed and stopped the movie. Draco had eyes like that... She wasn't sure why she had stopped the movie. She suddenly felt overcome with lonesomeness.

Marmalade had curled up in her lap. She had gotten bigger but was still fairly small. She scratched under her chin and she started to purr. She really did feel very lonely.

...

Draco had started the day off with a sudden urge to write. Why? How should he know! He had noticed the ink well and quill that Hermione had given him on his desk and just sort of felt compelled. He sat with quill poised over parchment for a good three minutes, waiting for inspiration.

"Chapter 1," he wrote. "I was born Draco Ludwig Malfoy to Lucius Christoph and Narcissa Alexandria Black Malfoy on November..." He pause and scratched it out, before starting again. "Chapter 1. My life can be divided into three basic areas. First there were my pre-Hogwarts days. Then there were my Hogwarts days. Lastly there's my post-Hogwarts days, of course." Draco wrinkled his nose with disgust and scratched that part out as well. "Chapter 1. Look, I don't know you, or in the very least, I probably don't know you. You may think you know me, but you're wrong. No one does. The life of a rich pureblood brat might, to some, be a rather accurate title for this. But no. I'm a complex human being with emotions! Can't you understand that? So what if I'm rich? Money can't buy me love." Draco stopped again. Had he seriously just quoted that muggle band? Sappy beginning anyway. He was just about to cross the whole thing out and start anew when he realized that his father's head was in his fireplace.

"Yes, Father?" Draco asked, shielding his parchment.

"You do realize that it's Valentine's Day, Draco?" his father asked, as if something were wrong.

"Yeah, so?"

"You haven't made any reservations!" his father barked.

"Oh bother," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Do I have to take her out?"

"Yes! It's very important to keep up appearances. It's highly unbelievable for a couple, separated for two years and about to be wed, to stay home on Valentine's Day! For pity's sake Draco!"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"I've gotten you a table at Basil Garden at seven o'clock tonight. You are to escort Antoine and at least try to look as if you were enjoying yourself. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Draco said, sighing. His father's head disappeared from view and Draco didn't resume his writing.

...

Grudgingly, Draco led Antoine into the restaurant that he had gone to to meet Hermione only a few months previously. The place was decorated with red roses and white lilacs. "Malfoy, party of two," Draco said dully to the host.

"This way sir," the man said and led them to a small table in the center of the room. It was very busy tonight, it seemed. At nearly every table sat a couple looking either awkward or else sappy.

"So," Antoine said, as they looked over their menus, "you must be feeling a bit depressed and lonesome right now."

Draco gave her a cold stare. "You'll be quiet if you know what's best for you."

"Oh yes... I nearly forgot our little charade." She raised her voice, "Oh Draco, darling, what fabulously straight teeth you have!"

Draco gave her a look of utmost exhaustion. If he'd been able to, he would have liked to strangle her with his bare hands. "Thank you," he replied in a forced voice. If memory served him correctly, weren't Hermione's parents dentists? He shoved the thought aside and looked with strained intent at the menu. "Well, I'm ready to order. If you are, I'll flag down that waitress..."

Antoine's attention, however, had drifted from her menu and across to a table on the other side of the room. She squinted and suddenly grasped his arm. "Do you know who that is?" she asked in a very excited voice.

Draco squinted and turned in his seat. At the table sat two figures. One was a man of his own age, stockily built, the other was an elderly woman with an odd hat. Something in his brain clicked. "Cor, it's Longbottom!" Then Draco looked to Antoine, who nearly seemed to be salivating.

"So you do know him! Oh please, please, introduce me to him, won't you?"

Draco snorted. He couldn't help himself. Just his luck! The girl his father had so graciously forced on him had an infatuation with Neville Longbottom! Wonderful, just wonderful... "How do you even know who he is?"

"Book jacket..." Antoine muttered, staring intently.

"Book? What book?"

"Herbology books! I read a couple of them before the accident. I never dreamed that I could actually meet him..."

"Longbottom has written books?" Draco murmured, thinking back to what he'd been writing that morning.

"Professor Longbottom," Antoine corrected.

"Professor!"

"Youngest one at Hogwarts... Although, I think he might just be a substitute. He's surefire for a replacement for when the current professor retires, though."

A young woman selling long-stemmed red roses approached their table. "Would the lady like a rose?" she asked.

Draco let out an indignant sniff. "No."

Antoine rolled her eyes as the woman walked away. "And if Hermione were here instead of me?"

"Oh come on! You've never even met her!"

Antoine rolled her eyes again. "Would you introduce me to him?" she repeated.

"If he's still here when we're finished eating."

"If you introduce me now, I'll fake a stomach ache and we can leave."

"Deal," Draco said. This place had one too many couples in it for his taste. He stood and walked with what he hoped was his usual pompous stride over to Longbottom's table and put on his best smirk. It took a moment for either occupant of the table to notice him. At last, Longbottom turned his head and practically jumped from his skin.

"M-M-Malfoy!" he stuttered, pointing a finger.

"Exactly," Draco replied, and stepped aside for Antoine to get a better view. To his great embarrassment, she clapped a hand to her mouth and squeaked.

"Professor Longbottom," she said, removing her hand and holding it out to shake hands. Longbottom gave Draco a nervous side-ways glance before shaking. "I can't tell you how much I've wanted to meet you!"

"You... have?" he asked, looking bewildered. Draco chose to pretend to be deeply interested in a painting on the wall.

"Oh, yes! I love your work! The way you described the growth of the African Crepe Vine was pure genius!"

"Why... thank you," Longbottom said, looking both frightened and amazed.

"And what's your name, deary?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, smiling at Antoine.

"I'm Antoine Bellover."

Longbottom's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! How's your research on the fruamcoluar coming?"

Antoine's face fell. "It's being back-burnered for a while."

"Oh! I know who you are! I read about you in the Prophet," Mrs. Longbottom said. "I'm glad to hear that the two of you are being reunited, but I still feel just awful about that Granger girl. Neville had such a huge crush on her as a boy."

Longbottom's face turned pink and he tried to hide it by taking a swig of water. "You're, er, marrying Malfoy then, are you?"

"Until further notice," Antoine said, looking at Longbottom in a way that made Draco want to vomit. Something in his memory had clicked. A long time ago he had heard that Longbottom had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball. It had turned out that she had turned him down to go with Viktor Krum. A feeling of intense dislike suddenly coursed through him. Jealousy, rage, the works. He tried telling himself that he was being silly. It was Antoine's crush that was bothering him, not... not Hermione. His desire to vomit was steadily increasing. He couldn't lie to himself any further. He couldn't stand the thought of another man with Hermione. He was snapped out of his reverie. "...I said, 'are you okay?'" It was Antoine. She placed her hand on his arm, and he threw it off.

"We're going!" he barked, and he led the way to the door.

End Notes:

(laughing) I love Antoine...