Metamorphosis: A Story of Maturing
Chapter 4: WHO Has Lingerie?
Draco was very pleased the next morning to find that he had not yet been severely pranked by the Weasley twins. He was also just as pleased to find the other occupant of the room, Ron, snoring link an earthquake, meaning he was still asleep. He quickly got dressed and slipped out of the room before Ron could awaken and throw more barbed insults his way.
He found the kitchen easily, having been there for the incredibly awkward dinner the night before. Before he could enter, however, he heard voices from inside the kitchen. He pressed his ears against the door, listening silently.
"So they'll all be arriving soon, then, I gather. Thank goodness we have enough beds for them all. Everyone's coming, right?" He heard the voice of Molly Weasley.
"No. Not that Lovegood girl. Luna, I think, was her name. She'll be going on a trip with her father, something about finding a Snorkak or what. I can't quite remember." Draco positively jumped upon hearing the voice of his third year Defense professor. "On the other hand, Hermione will be arriving sometime today, and Neville Longbottom—you remember him—will be arriving by floo at 6.47 tonight."
"I'm just glad we have enough room for them. I'll need to be leaving for some groceries in a minute for them all, though. We're rather low on eggs, and makings for soup, considering how Professor Dumbledore likes to drop in and have a bit. We had that for dinner last night, actually."
"How was dinner, by the way? I'm sorry I missed it, but it seems there was some complicated spell work that Madam Pomfrey needed an additional hand with on our dear friend Severus. Seems he got into a spot of trouble on the train, though he wouldn't say what had happened."
"Dinner was…uncomfortable. Ron was stabbing at his food with a vengeance, and Ginny didn't speak much. Draco didn't say anything at all."
"That's probably good. He'd just insult everything." There was a snap of a towel, and Molly Weasley's voice raised a few decibels.
"Listen, Remus Lupin, I'm certainly not overjoyed to have a Malfoy in this house either. But just because his father is a Death Eater doesn't mean he's scum too. And didn't Dumbledore say he had defected?"
"Molly, that's not the point. I am very aware that he isn't a legitimate threat, but he and the other children have a rivalry somewhat akin to what Sirius and Severus had." Remus' voice broke slightly, but he continued, "But just because you've got a heart big enough to forgive even Belatrix Lestrange doesn't mean we all do. And what about when Harry gets here; I'm worried about how this will affect his grief. And I don't doubt there will be some tension with the others, either, once they've arrived."
Sirius and Severus? What? Did they mean Sirius Black? Severus Snape? And what was with the past tense? Did that mean they were friends now? Draco could hardly believe something like that. Why, Professor Snape had told them all about how he had known Black would go to Azkaban when he first met him at Hogwarts.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Yes, Remus I suppose. But we'll conquer that hurdle when we get there, eh?" Remus must have nodded or something, because Molly continued. "I'll be going then, dear. I'll be back before anyone else is awake so I can make breakfast. Ron no doubt will be starving."
Mrs. Weasley apparated away, and Draco listened closely for any sound of life from within the room. A few moments later, he hears the telltale sounds of an owl being let in and out of a window, and parchment unrolling.
He had had enough of this waiting around, and was just about to push open the swinging door, when there was an angry slam and an even more irritated exclamation of "BULLOCKS!" The kitchen door swung open, hitting Draco in the face, and he caught a glimpse of Remus Lupin storming upstairs in a panic.
Hermione was in a foul mood when she awoke, and it was not improved by the impenetrable response Dumbledore had sent her.
Dear Ms. Granger,
I apologize that I cannot enlighten you further on the nature of Mr. Potter's distress. It is most likely the result of more than grief, but I can assure you that he will share it with you when he is ready. I fear that further violating his trust in me at this time would be at best unwise.
On a different note, you parents have informed me that they will be sending you to headquarters again this summer. Enclosed, please find a knut which I have enchanted to act as your portkey. It will activate upon saying, "Please pass the frozen dynamite".
Again, I apologize for any irritation this may cause you. I hope your stay at HQ will be pleasant.
Sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
Very irritated indeed, Hermione tipped the envelope into her hand and glared at the knut in her hand. Scowling, she put it on her desk with the fully unhelpful note and returned to packing.
Several sets of Muggle jeans were tossed in her trunk, along with a handful of tops and the majority of her socks-and-underthings drawer. Her few items of makeup were added, toothbrush, a pair of sandals, and she snapped the trunk closed, with perhaps a bir more vigor than necessary.
That should do it, she thought, as her stomach growled. I'm turning into Ron, Merlin save me. She rolled her eyes and went downstairs, tucking the charmed knut into her pocket. Maybe her mother would have bacon.
Remus had been sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of think black coffee when Molly had left. He actually rather loathed the taste of the nasty American beverage, but it was the only thing that kept him awake in the days approaching the full moon.
Grimacing at the bitter flavor, he looked up through the window to see Hedwig, Harry's owl, tapping on the glass with a letter in her beak. Harry can't be in trouble this soon, He thought, annoyed.
He retrieved the letter from Hedwig, gave her a piece of toast and ushered her on her way. His eyes widened as he read the note. Slamming it down on the table and swearing, he stood and dashed out of the kitchen, not noticing the dazed blond teenager he knocked to the ground.
After recovering from his shock, Draco peeked into the room, not anxious for a confrontation with any of the Weasley's or anyone else who might be living in this place.
Finding to coast clear, Draco grabbed a ripe-looking orange from the counter and sat himself down for breakfast. His stomach protested at the measly offering, reminding him of the lavish breakfast probably being laid out now at Malfoy Manor. He shook himself; if he was really going to separate himself from his family, he needed to stop reminding himself of home. It certainly wasn't a home any longer.
Absently tossing the peel in the rubbish bin, he peeled a section off the orange and looked at the pile of papers on the table. There was a handwritten note, a copy of The Daily Prophet, two weeks old. There was a grocery list in neat handwriting, and also a note saying, meeting tonight at 7.30. All in all it was very boring. He ate a piece of his orange, and pulled out the crossword, which was half finished.
Draco smirked; he knew some of them. Let's see, 32 down, blast-ended ?(6)…oh come on. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I still have burn scars from that class. Stupid Hagrid. He closed the paper and absently leaned back in his chair.
He peeled off another section of his orange and popped it into his mouth. He picked up the first note, and was about to read it, when suddenly there was a loud crash from the foyer, followed by the familiar shrieks of Mrs. Black. The note still clutched in his hand, he leaped up and ran to see what had happened.
Upon arriving, he saw the perfect embodiment of the word 'havoc'.
Apparently, someone had arrived by portkey and had fallen into the same trouble that he had, quite literally. Unfortunately, this person also seemed to have a trunk, which was split open with its contents scattered across the floor. Draco scanned the room, unsure of what to do, and caught sight of a few rather suggestive pieces of black and red lace, among other things.
Remus bounded downstairs, and pulled the curtains over Mrs. Black's portrait, finally silencing it. Turning to the girl who had arrived, he embraced her warmly.
"Hermione," he said, "we hadn't expected you until later, or Mrs. Weasley would have stayed to greet you. So nice to see you."
Draco gaped. Those things belong to her?
Hermione pulled away from Remus and brushed herself off. "When are we going to get rid of that stupid umbrella stand? Tonks must have knocked into it a million times, and now I have too." Remus chuckled and nodded.
"I think it's time for it to go. Merlin knows how much this house needs help. What with our lovely lady over there," he nodded his head towards the moldy curtains, "and the stuff Kreacher has been pulling back from the rubbish, well, this place has been hell." He turned his head up, and finally made eye contact with Draco. He paused.
"Hermione, there's something else you might like to know. I don't know if anyone told you yet, but there's another guest staying here this summer."
"Oh? Who? Is Neville coming? Or Luna?"
"Er, yes, Neville will be here, but that's not quite who I was referring to." In response to Hermione's questioning look, Remus opened his mouth to respond, but then, snapped it shut. He then just pointed deprecatingly behind her. "I believe you've met?" he said dryly.
Hermione, like Ron, was shocked into a stunned silence, but for a completely different reason. She followed Draco's line of sight, which had not changed since he entered the room, and realized that she had most definitely packed things she hadn't meant to. How, in the name of Merlin, had her lingerie been in her suitcase?
She snapped out of her stupor and rushed forward, gathering clothes in her hand and stuffing them back in her trunk. Lupin offered to help, but she snapped at him, and in a matter of seconds everything was put back in and she slammed the lid down.
"Er…I think I'll just…er…am I in the same room as before? Yeah, I'll just be…er…going then." She stammered, her face burning. She retreated upstairs, lugging her trunk behind her as Draco watched, dumbfounded.
Granger had lingerie? What was the world coming to?
After the pair of mismatched males watched Hermione disappear up the stairs, a rather awkward silence descended. Draco could see Remus was clearly searching for something to say, and he himself felt oddly compelled to say something appreciative. This was a very foreign feeling to him, and thusly he was thrown off balance.
"Professor..."
"Mr. Malfoy…" they both began at once, and Remus returned to a pensive silence, looking at Draco with a look that he couldn't place. After a long pause, he said, "Welcome to Grimmauld Place, I suppose. Er…" Words echoing in his ears…just insult everything…
"Thanks, I suppose…" The words felt strange in mouth. Draco suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and he wanted desperately to get away from Lupin. Shifting his weight, he continued snappishly, "It's not like I had much choice coming here, is it?"
Remus just nodded once, and turned around, walking back up the stairs. He had a letter to forward.
Meanwhile, back in the foyer, Draco slipped his hands into his pockets, deep in thought. Touching the crinkly parchment with surprise, he pulled it out of his pocket and smoothed it out. Reading it, he felt the blood start to drain from his face.
He had known it wouldn't be long, but the implications of this new development were still quite harrowing.
If Azkaban was really breached, then Draco's father was on the loose. And if Draco knew anything about him, he knew one thing.
There was no way Lucius would rest until he'd brought about revenge on his apostate son.
One of my favorite things, really, the Thesaurus in Word. Gives you words like apostate, which really just means turncoat. Or absconder, traitor, runaway, fugitive, or renegade. Not that I'm just listing the options. Of course not.
Hope you like this chapter. I think I do, even if it is rather short and nothing really happens. Maybe a touch too melodramatic towards the end.
Please review. I really love it.