Crossing Paths in Purple Paris
"Draco, a word please?" Dumbledore asked kindly as breakfast finished up. There were only nine students staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, including Hannah Abbott, Harry, Ron and Ginny Weasley. Thankfully, Blaise, Pansy or any of the sixth and seventh year Slytherins did not stay. They had definitely not allowed Draco's life to go smooth sailing since the Pansy incident; something that they'd reminded him of everyday.
Draco dragged his feet over to where the staff table was, looking thoroughly miserable.
"Let me guess," Draco began, cynically. "Madam Rosmerta has just discovered that she has a severe disease, and because of its harmful contagiousness she is unable to return to work until after the Christmas holidays when I'm back in school."
Dumbledore surveyed Draco, silently protesting his rude tone but once again keeping silent. "Far from it, Mr Malfoy. It appears that it was only a minor bite from one of the creatures living under the bar that caused Madam Rosmerta to fall ill. A Healer at St. Mungo's determined this and managed to revive her to full health. If you wish to go to Paris, you are more than welcome to do so."
Draco's face lit up. "Brilliant!"
Dumbledore handed Draco a slip of paper. "This is the hotel that Miss Granger is staying in if you wish to see her. I suggest you borrow a Thestral-"
Draco shook his head. "I'm going to Apparate. It's much quicker."
"I highly recommend that you do not travel in that method, Mr Malfoy. You are not old enough to travel the long distance, and you are not quite skilled enough to be able to bring luggage with you-"
"Screw luggage!" Draco cried. Then, blushing sheepishly, he mumbled, "Sorry. But I don't need it. Really, I'll be fine. Good bye, Professor." He turned to leave, preparing to walk the journey to outside of Hogwarts boundaries.
"Draco?" Dumbledore called after him.
Draco turned around, expecting to hear him babble about safety or something stupid like that.
"Good luck." Dumbledore said, smiling with that infamous twinkle in his eye.
Draco gave a small grin and turned to leave once more, ecstatic about finally seeing Hermione and yet worried about the greeting that he would receive once he got there.
………………………….
"Yo, Hermione!" Will cried from his bedroom.
Ignoring him, Hermione continued watching a soap opera, The Young and the Restless, thinking about how much her seventh year seemed to be just like a soap opera. Pathetic.
"Hermione?" Will repeated, emerging into the living room. "Seriously, are you planning on watching stupid soaps all day?"
"How do you know what a soap is?" Hermione asked, slightly interested.
"My mum is a muggle. She watched them all the time when I was growing up. This one in particular. She always loved that Victor Newman." Will said, observing the old man on the television. "She always wanted me to be just like him."
"Rich and powerful?" Hermione asked, doubtingly. "You? You need wits for that, buddy."
"I'm not the one doing shitty in school." Will retorted, raising his eyebrow and awaiting a response.
"Fuck you." Hermione replied, clicking off the television. "What do you want to do today?"
Will stood there, stunned. "What? You want to do something with me?"
"Well believe it or not, it is slightly better than sitting around here all day. If you don't want to do anything, just say the word and I'll find my own fun." Hermione said.
"But I thought you wanted me to stay out of your hair when we're not working." Will teased.
"Okay, fine then. You don't want to go. Later Will." Hermione said, throwing on a bulbous, pink hat.
"No!" Will cried. Embarrassed at his sudden outburst, he said, "I mean, I'm sure you just changed your mind. That's cool. Let's go."
Hermione stood up and walked towards the door, passing Will on the way. He threw his arm around her shoulder, grinning and feeling proud. Hermione reached up and pried his hand away, leaving Will looking a bit disappointed before regaining his cheesy grin and following her out the door.
…………………………….
CRACK!
Draco suddenly appeared out of thin air in a bar in Paris. This bar was much like London's Leaky Cauldron; it was well known with wizards and not very distinguishable with muggles. Only a couple of people turned their heads to see what the loud bang was about, but several completely disregarded it. Draco glanced around as though hoping to see Hermione there. But no, Hermione wouldn't be in a dark, dingy bar. Sighing, Draco pushed the door open and exited the bar. Where to go first?
But what am I supposed to say when I see her? Draco asked himself for the first time. She hates me. She can't stand me. She thinks that everything that Blaise said is true… but I didn't deny sleeping with her. I am partially to blame. Shit.
A large, plum-colored building suddenly caught Draco's eye. It looked like a French café, and as eager as Draco was to see Hermione, he needed a beer really badly. So, he shoved his way through the crowd of people and entered the café, looking around for Hermione before taking a seat in a vibrant red stool at the bar, praying to god that she would hear him out before slamming the door in his face.
…………………………….
"Shit, Hermione!" Will whined as he and Hermione emerged from another clothing shop, Hermione weighed down with shopping bags and Will carrying a few boxes for her. "Come on! We've been to every store in the city!"
"We have not." Hermione stated, shifting her bags so that they weighed evenly in both hands. "I want to hit a few more stores."
"When you said that you wanted to go out, I didn't know that this was what you meant." Will complained. "My legs are killing me. My back is aching. I want to sit down!"
"For someone who claims to be twenty, you sure do act like a five-year-old." Hermione observed, surveying the street for another shop to tear through.
"Even men hate shopping, believe it or not." Will said, resisting the urge to throw Hermione's boxes in a nearby garbage can. "It's just too tiring. Now, if we could just do something that I want to do-"
"And what do you want to do?" Hermione sighed, putting her bags down and glaring at Will expectantly.
"I'll give you a clue. Its long, its fun, its sweaty, and its even more tiring than shopping." Will grinned, waiting anxiously for a response.
"Unbelievable!" Hermione cried, picking up her bags and continuing to walk down the street. "Completely unbelievable! It is illegal. Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"So that means that you would do it if it wasn't illegal?" Will asked, hopefully.
"No!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperatedly. She spotted a fairly large French café across the street, shining a bright purple and very attractive on the eye. Cute, she thought as she began to cross the deserted street with Will in tow.
"We need to work on this communication between us. It's really bad. Like, really." Will pointed out.
"I wonder why." Hermione retorted sarcastically. She pushed open the red, swinging doors and drew in a breath at how cute this little café actually was. There was a bar to the right with cushy, red stools, and tables with multicolored chairs were scattered around the marble floor. It was more like a restaurant, not a café. It was packed with people all jabbering away in French, except for the lonely looking people at the bar who were just having drinks by themselves. Before Hermione could have a really good look around, Will slid his arm around her waist and led her in the direction of a private little table near a window.
"Touch me again and die." Hermione said simply, once again prying his hand away before seating herself in a chair with her back to the rest of the restaurant. Draco would have hated this, she said to herself, smiling inside. Too colorful. Too bouncy. And yet he still would have come, just for me. Too bad it was all a fucking charade.
"A drink?" Will asked. "Beer? Margarita? Daiquiri? You're pick."
"I don't drink." Hermione shot at him in a cold tone that said he should have known this already.
"Oh, of course. Underage in the muggle world, huh? Another year, Hermione. One more year and you'll have all the freedom in the world." Will laughed. "Okay then, just a pop?"
"Sure." Hermione sighed. "Whatever."
……………………………
"Somethin' gettin' ya down, hun?" The bartender asked, smiling kindly. She was a younger woman with curly black shoulder-length hair, wearing a 70's style uniform. She did not sound French, but she definitely had some sort of accent.
Draco looked up at her, thoroughly depressed. He was on his third beer since he got there, and for some reason he seemed to be stalling his trip to the hotel that Hermione was staying in. Perhaps it was nerves. Well, a few more beers would take care of that in a jiffy.
"Nothing." Draco answered shortly. "I'll have another beer."
The bartender looked unsure about delivering Draco another drink, but seeing as he was the customer, she was in no position to protest.
"Comin' right up." She said, taking off to the back of the bar.
Though his head was dropped in his arms, Draco could still here a person pulling up a stool next to him and taking a seat.
"Hold on a sec." The guy said to the bartender. "I'll get a beer and a pop, please."
The bartender smiled flirtatiously at the guy before turning to retrieve the drinks.
Hermione likes pop, Draco laughed to himself. Or maybe she liked the alcohol. I never asked.
"Down in the gutter, eh?" The guy next to Draco asked.
Curious, Draco lifted his head to look at the speaker. The man beside him had wavy brown hair and a clean-shaven face; he looked like he was in his early twenties and the huge grin on his face told the world that he was going to get lucky tonight.
"A bit." Draco answered, taking a swig of the beer that the bartender had just brought him.
"I can lend an open ear." The guy pressed, grinning. "I'm Will, by the way." Will caught sight of Draco's wand hanging out of his pocket. "Hey, you're a wizard?"
Draco looked down at his exposed wand and hastily covered it up, nodding to Will to indicate that yes, he was a wizard.
"I am, too!" Will exclaimed, completely excited. "I don't usually see witches and wizards around here except for the ones that go to Belle Strait, and I've never seen you around there. What's your name?"
Draco thought for a moment, then answered, "Bob Smith. I'm a tourist."
"Sounds very muggle. Are your parents muggles?" Will asked.
The thought of Draco being half-blood or even muggleborn revolted him, but he nodded anyways. "Half-blood." He answered through gritted teeth. Draco didn't much feel like Will making a big fuss once he heard that this was actually Draco Malfoy that he was talking to. Of course, Harry Potter was much more impressive, but what could you do?
"You said you go to Belle Strait?" Draco asked, perking up a little bit.
"Yup." Will said, puffing out his chest proudly.
Draco's face fell. Will looked too old to know Hermione. Too bad.
"Well, I'd better get back to my date." Will said, jerking a thumb at a girl sitting at a corner table and grinning an enormous grin. Draco could only see a large, pink hat covering bushels of brown hair; her hair looked like Hermione's. Draco sighed. He should get going to see her.
"Yeah, I'd better get going to. See you." Draco said, getting ready to leave.
"Hold on." Will said. "You still look a bit down. If you want I could show you around Paris sometime. We could go for a beer or whatever."
Draco's lips curved into a small, almost hidden smile. "Depending on how things work out with what I've got to do. But otherwise, sure. I could use a buddy to go for a beer with."
"Wicked." Will grinned. "I'll send an owl."
"Cool. See you, Will." Draco said, waving and leaving the bar.
Grinning, Will grabbed the drinks and rushed over to Hermione.
"It's about time." Hermione said, irritably. "How long does it take to get a couple of drinks?"
"I just met someone. Really nice guy. Bob Smith. We're gonna go out for beers sometime." Will explained.
"Good." Hermione nodded. "It gets you out of my hair for awhile. Now hurry up and drink before I decided to dine and dash and leave you to foot the bill."
……………………………
Draco hailed a taxicab outside and tried his best to explain to the French driver where he wanted to go. Draco was not used to this; this kind of transportation was too public. He should have just Apparated to the hotel.
Once they finally arrived, Draco paid the driver with money that he had exchanged a few weeks back during a Hogsmeade visit and hopped out of the car, racing up to the hotel. He did not thank the doorman who held the door open for him, nor did he pay any attention to the workers in the building who smiled at him and said hello. He came to a sudden halt in front of the large, golden counter in the center of the vast lobby.
"Hello, how may I help-"
"I need to know which room Hermione Granger is staying in." Draco interrupted, impatiently.
"I'm sorry sir, that is personal information." The receptionist said, smiling kindly. She did not seem to notice his urgency.
"I don't give two shits about personal information." Draco said in a deathly calm voice. "I just want to know which room Miss Granger is staying in. It's not too difficult. Just check in that little box of yours."
"The computer?" The receptionist asked.
"Sure. Whatever. Which room is she in?" Draco persisted.
"I can't tell you sir, I'm sorry." The receptionist answered, still smiling like some sort of idiot.
"What is that right there?" Draco asked, pointing to the royal blue curtains behind the golden counter. They made up a tiny room that could only be accessible by the workers.
"It's our office." The receptionist answered, a bit taken aback by his swift change of subject.
"Do you mind if we step in there for a moment?" Draco asked, opening his eyes a bit wider than normal. He looked more adorable then he usually did, and that was saying a lot. It was probably this that made the female receptionist agree; she allowed Draco behind the counter and followed him into the curtained room.
"Look, I really need to know which room Miss Granger is in." Draco repeated. "I'm willing to do anything. Anything."
Now it was the receptionist's turn to be wide-eyed. She giggled and looked deep into Draco's eyes. "That's bribery, you know."
"I know." Draco answered, smirking his infamous smirk. Perhaps it was because he had been drinking, but he really was willing to do anything just to get the damn room number that Hermione was staying in.
He leaned over and pressed his lips against the receptionists; her lips were not as warm and soft as Hermione's, nor did they give him that tingling sense that sent pleasure right through his body just like when he kissed Hermione. He said he'd do anything, though…
Ten minutes later, Draco and the receptionist emerged from the closed curtains. Surprisingly, they had not been disturbed. The receptionist's hair was a fright and Draco had lipstick smeared all over his mouth; but no, they did not do it! Just a heavy make out session, that's all. But it was worth it.
"Room 714." The receptionist told Draco, giggly and frivolous because she had gotten away with making out with a customer right under the nose of her boss and coworkers. "Hope you get what you're looking for. If you need a room, just come and see me."
Draco winked at her before turning and heading towards the elevator. He had never taken an elevator before. It was so fun! He could feel the machine start and stop in the pit of his stomach. Totally awesome!
Once the doors opened on the seventh floor, Draco rushed out and sprinted towards the room that the receptionist had told him. 714…714…714… "714!" Draco exclaimed, finally coming to an abrupt stop outside of his desired location.
Here goes nothing, Draco thought to himself, breathing in a sharp intake of air before knocking three times on the door. No answer. Okay, four knocks. Still no answer. Impatiently, Draco banged the door with his fist, causing several other people to open their doors and poke their heads out to see what all of the commotion was about. And still, Hermione did not answer the door. Perhaps she was out. Yes, that must have been it. Sighing, Draco pulled up a patch on the floor across from Hermione's door, determined to wait there until she got back. She'll be so surprised at seeing me that she'll have to take me back, Draco thought, grinning to himself. Yup, it's only a matter of time… she will be mine again.