The Bodyguard
(Rated PG-13 for coarse language, sexual references and mature themes)
Disclaimer: While I have no proper one, I'll give it a shot ... The characters Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and all other people, things, etc affiliated with the world of Harry Potter do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling. I am making no profits from this story. Shows like Hack and other mentioned ones do not belong to me either, but to their creators, etc. Do not sue me. I own nothing (except for Tammy Harding - she's mine).
Summary: She was the successful, intelligent and influential Ministry official. He was the trust-funded, but un-employed, handsome playboy. But when Draco Malfoy is hired as Hermione Granger's bodyguard, it's amazing that two people so different (with the hatred of each other to prove it) could fit together so perfectly in the jigsaw puzzle of life.
THE BODYGUARD
Chapter 6 – Weekend Rendezvous
The minutes steadily ticked by on the red letters displayed on Hermione Granger's alarm clock. But for the first time in five days, when the clock reached 06.30, it didn't start shooting different types of verbal abuse at Hermione. Instead, it ticked on.
It was the weekend.
The two days in any working person's week in which every hour was happy hour. It was a time to go crazy on the vodka, to talk superficial things with girlfriends or watching football and cheering with the guys.
Hermione rolled over in bed, groaned, and continued sleeping.
For Hermione Granger, it was a time where she could another book to her rather shocking 'Books read in lifetime' list without feeling guilty. Or it was a time where she could pop down to Diagon Alley to buy more books to read. Come to think of it, Hermione's weekends were usually just as academic and as much as a learning process as the rest of the week. Most of the other women her age would have dumped the books for gyration on the dance floor at any given moment on the weekends, but Hermione preferred reading on her couch with a cup of hot chocolate.
Draco rolled over on the couch, teetered and then fell off with a loud THUD. He came up clutching his head and groaning irritably.
For Draco Malfoy, the weekend didn't hold any more significance than the rest of the week. Before, in his 'happier' days when he wasn't 'working', Draco spent every day of every week partying with his rich-but-not-as-rich Hogwarts friends in trendy nightclubs in wizard London. Every night was with different music, different jokes and different women. And if by some miraculous chance Draco wasn't in a club, he would have been outside smoking (a filthy habit which he had quit because he realised that he only attracted 40-something, wrinkly, peroxide blondes when he smelt like tobacco) or following yet another female back to her house for some 'coffee'. Draco cared not for education when could have been gyrated against in a dark nightclub with a gorgeous woman.
"You should know the reason why I left, Hermione," the red head said with a tinge of sorrow in his voice.
"I do." Hermione replied.
"And what would it be?" Ron asked.
"Because I broke up with you," Hermione answered, slightly self-conscious with the fact that her theory of him leaving had something to do with her inflicting the main blow.
"That's kind of it." Ron said evasively. He looked her squarely in the eyes, a serious look crossing his freckled face. "Do you want to know the entire reason why I left?"
"Yes," Hermione said breathlessly. "Tell me why you left, Ron."
The figure of Ron opened his mouth and started speaking, but the words that came out of his mouth did not fit it.
"What?" Hermione asked, but Ron didn't stop talking. "Can you repeat that Ron?" Again, she was ignored. "Ron! Tell me why you left! Why can't you come back? RON!"
"You smell, Grangie." A voice that obviously did not belong to Ron said. "Stinky! Smelly! Odorous! That's why I left you! Because you're smelly, and nobody wants to be with a smelly person."
The image of Ron slowly started slipping away. Hermione, confused, reached out her arm.
"Don't go, Ron! That's not the real reason you left, is it?"
And before he could explain, Ron disappeared.
"RON!" Hermione sat up in bed quickly, breathing hard and then knocking foreheads with somebody else. "OUCH!" she brought a palm up to her forehead in a feeble attempt to make it less painful.
"Having an identity crisis for me then, Granger?" the-foreign-voice-that-did-not-belong-to-Ron said.
"You!" Hermione said aggressively.
"Yes; me," Draco said, shaking his head slightly. "After all, it is always about me."
"What are you doing in my bedroom?" Hermione rounded on him, shoving aside his obviously arrogant remark.
"Well it seemed that you were having a rather important and enlightening dream about our favourite carrot head," Draco explained. "So obviously, I had to interrupt it."
"You jerk!" Hermione yelled. She was about to pounce on him and strangle him to death.
"What do I jerk?" Draco asked in an ignorant voice. He leaned over to Hermione. "Do you want me to give you a hint to where I jerk?" He extended his arm slowly.
"No, thank you very much." Hermione threw aside the covers and stepped out of bed. "Don't you have a kitchen to mess up?"
"Yes, actually," Draco smiled somewhat pleasantly. But his tone was actually worthy of sprouting two devil horns. "But right now, I need to use the bathroom." And with that, he beat Hermione on the way to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it.
"Alohomora!" Hermione tried restlessly at the lock. The door didn't budge; Draco obviously didn't use an Alohomara-ble spell. Hermione uttered yet another frustrated sigh and then sat down on her bed.
Hermione felt like a shrew. All because this jerk-ass had pushed all of her buttons so much that she would have probably needed to display a 'GAME OVER' sign on her. She wanted to punch him. No; she wanted to do more than punch him. But of course, her way would involve a series of rather frightening curses and a whole lot of mess, so she decided against it.
"Hey, what's this?" Draco's voice wafted from the bathroom. "'A special formula used for straightening super stubborn strands for exclusive social gatherings.' Why, Granger! I never knew that you were so image conscious."
'Oh, crap. He's gotten into the medicine cabinet.' Hermione thought to herself.
"Ooh, lipstick, eh?" Draco's tone was mocking. "'Pure Paradise; for the gorgeous woman inside to indulge in.'"
'And the lipstick from Paris.' Hermione rested her head into her hands. She needed an aspirin.
"Why, I didn't know that you were a lipstick person …" Draco said casually.
'Well at least he got something right.' Hermione thought.
It was true; she wasn't a beauty or hair care person. The money that she earned from her job either went to savings account at Gringotts, towards groceries, books or sometimes clothes. She wasn't really ever interested in make-up or hair products. The only reason that she had 'Pure Paradise' lipstick was because Tammy had bought it for her at an outrageous price as a birthday present when she had gone over to Paris for a holiday. The only reason that she had the specially formulated straightening lotion was because the brand had been specifically endorsed by Gilderoy Lockhart. And whilst she may have put on a 'what-on-earth-are-you-talking-about' look on her face whenever somebody mentioned Hermione's infatuation (or obsession) with Lockhart, on the inside Hermione was still captivated by Lockhart and his brave attitude and doings. Perhaps it was still silly liking Lockhart considering all the lives that he ruined with those memory charms and false glory, but Hermione didn't really care that much. She spent so much time being straight-laced that she didn't see why she couldn't indulge in any little fantasies.
"And what on earth are these contraptions?" Draco asked to nobody in particular. Hermione heard him fumbling around with something. "These little white things with a string coming out of one end. It looks like some sort of rocket with a string on it."
'Oh God,' Hermione's head immediately jerked up. He had gotten into the toiletries section.
"What are these used for?" Draco asked ignorantly. Hermione heard some plastic rustling.
'Oh God,'
"Do you use them for nose bleeds? Stick them up your nose, do you?" Draco asked.
'You stick them somewhere.' Hermione thought.
There was a loud rumbling from outside and Hermione looked out of the window. It was raining.
"Perfect to match my mood right now." She whispered absently to herself.
"What did you say there?" Draco asked. There was silence for a few seconds. "What time is it?"
"12 noon." Hermione said, even though she knew perfectly well that her alarm clock was marked 08.00.
"12 noon?" Hermione could hear some things falling off the bathroom bench. "I have to go!"
"And where are you going?" Draco Malfoy had pissed her off and woken her up early on a Saturday; he deserved to struggle a little bit.
"None of your business," Draco replied evasively.
"Well it is if you're using my bathroom." Hermione said. The bathroom door swung open.
"Issue over." Draco said, walking swiftly out of the bathroom.
"You've still got to tell me." Hermione pressed on.
"I'm out of your bathroom." Draco said, walking towards the kitchen.
"If you're living here then you've got to tell me." Hermione followed Draco to the kitchen.
"If you're trying to get me out of your modest dwelling with this blatant invasion of privacy, then I can tell you that I would gladly do so."
"So why don't you go?"
"Because I …" Draco gulped. "Work. For you,"
"Ooh, that sounded nice. Say that again." Hermione smirked.
And so the tables hard turned.
"No." Draco opened the fridge and attempted looking quite interested in the milk bottle writing. He wasn't used to being the vulnerable one in situations like this, unless it was around his father. But he must not think about his father.
"Oh c'mon," Hermione said, making herself a cup of tea.
"Shut up." Draco said, grabbing the milk and placing it on the kitchen table.
"Well, something's definitely stuck up your ass this morning." Hermione muttered, sitting down on the kitchen bench and sipping her tea.
"There isn't actually, but I can always stick something up your ass every morning." Draco replied smoothly, now just pulling out anything edible in the fridge.
"Does everything have to be about sex around you?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"What? Do you actually want to do it instead of talking about it all day, then?" Draco asked, closing the fridge door.
"No, thank you." Hermione said crisply. "But it would be nice to be reminded that you work for me."
"Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" Draco asked, pulling the wrapper off a muesli bar. "This is precisely why I'm not going to say anything. And I advise that you don't either, unless you want me to shut you up for you."
"And what are you going to do? I'm your boss. I can fire you and send you back home at any time that I feel like." Hermione reminded him. He had pissed her off enough; she felt like abusing her power. Well, not really. In her mind, actually, but it was fun making empty threats at Draco, purely for the sake of pissing him off. After all, he had done it to Hermione heaps of times; so wasn't she entitled to do some dirty work?
"Sure, you really have that confidence." Draco snorted, throwing the now empty muesli wrapper onto the table.
"Excuse me?" Hermione got up off of the table. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me. Now shut up; I'm hungry." Draco sat down and started on a bowl of cereal that he had prepared.
"No!" Hermione slammed the cup down in the sink. "I will not be told to shut up in my own house!"
"Cave dwelling." Draco added between bites of cereal. "Now shut up."
"Apologise!" Hermione turned on the tap to fill her cup and then turned it off. "It is 8 fucking am, Malfoy, and I am in no mood to argue with you like I have no responsibilities."
"8am?" Draco looked confused. "You said it was 12 noon."
"It doesn't matter what time it is!"
"Yes it does, actually." Draco bit back. "I just happen to have a very important meeting later on in the day."
'Ahh, the date with Tammy,' Hermione thought, in surprised bitterness.
"Important meeting? You are my bodyguard! You don't go for important meetings anywhere." Hermione sniffed. Watching him lie was fun … especially when she knew the real meaning behind the 'important meeting'.
"And since when did you think that you were in charge of my life?" Draco asked, pouring himself another bowl of cereal. "Now shut up, I want to eat my breakfast in quiet."
"How many times have you told me to shut up today?" Hermione asked irritably. "Has the thought ever occurred to you that you might the one who needs shutting up?"
"And has the thought ever occurred to you that you are the one who should shut up?" Draco asked. "So I'll say it one more time. Shut. Up." Mediocre fighting. The best way to start of a weekend.
"I told you; I will not shut up! This is my house and if you eating my food, sleeping on my furniture, living in my house and using my things, I suggest that you –"
Hermione would have said more. She would have said anything, really, if she had not been silenced.
"I told you to shut up." Draco pressed his lips against hers. "And since you didn't, I'm shutting you up yourself."
'OH. HOLY. JESUS.' Hermione thought to herself as Draco started moving his mouth around on hers.
He was undeniably a good kisser (goodness knows that he had the experience), and Hermione couldn't help but notice that. Which was why she was mentally slapping herself. It would have been at least a little romantic …if Hermione hadn't tasted muesli bar.
'Thank God, some silence …' Draco thought to himself, as if he was doing nothing but putting a hand over her mouth.
"Now, are you going to shut up?" Draco asked. Hermione didn't do anything.
'OH. DEAR. GOD.' She thought.
"Well, since you're not replying …" Draco prised his lips off of hers. "I'll take that as a no. So unless you do say something, I guess I'm just going to have to kiss you until you do so." He leaned forward again and started kissing her again.
"GET OFF OF ME!" And all at once, the situation came crashing onto Hermione like a tonne of bludgers. She was standing in her kitchen snogging (or being snogged by) Draco Malfoy after they nearly just ripped each others heads off and when they both knew that Draco had a date with Tammy later on.
"Oh, Granger, you know that you loved it." Draco winked at her roguishly.
Hermione couldn't speak. She was speechless. It was as if Draco Malfoy kissing her was enough to silence her completely. And so after a few seconds of her looking horrified, confused and disgusted with Draco looking at her with a mischievous and scoundrel-like look on his face, Hermione finally found her voice.
"What is your problem?" Hermione asked, wiping her mouth wildly.
"You asked me that question yesterday." Draco said, skipping around the subject.
"Where do you get off like that; going around and snogging me when I won't be quiet when I'm told to by a very unwelcome person in my own household?"
"I warned you before." Draco shrugged, returning to his breakfast.
"That's it?" Hermione obviously had a different perspective of what Draco's answer would have been.
"Yes. Now be quiet, unless you want me to do it again." Hermione couldn't believe it. It was like some form of mutiny. And the stupid thing was that Hermione had actually listened to the git, and was being quiet. It wasn't that Hermione didn't want to be kissed again by Malfoy (he was a pretty good kisser, but she'd rather be burnt at the stake before admitting that), but the guilt of betraying Tammy like that was overwhelming already.
"Fine," Hermione said standoffishly.
And off she went to her bedroom, slamming the door. She was pretty sure that cracks would soon appear on the walls after all that door slamming.
Hermione sat down on her bed.
Draco Malfoy; evil in human form, bastard beyond belief and nemesis for lifetime had just snogged her. Even thinking about that possibility generated a whole lot of different emotions and feelings – sickness and disgust being the two main ones.
Yet here Hermione was, sitting on her bed and staring at the wall right after that had just happened. It was freaky. It was scary. It had just happened. And she felt like she was going to be sick.
'I can't believe that he kissed you, dear,' the first voice in Hermione's head said.
'I can,' the second said.
'What do you mean?' the first voice asked suspiciously.
'Well it's simple, really. She kept on talking when he told her to shut up. And he also said that if she didn't shut up then he'd have to do it for her.' The second voice explained calmly.
'You're just repeating what he said.' The first voice retaliated.
'You're point being?' the second voice asked.
'That's hardly an argument.' The first voice said.
'And who asked you? You're probably only saying that because you're losing the argument.'
'Losing the argument? Are you crazy?' the first voice's … voice rose.
'Why are you two always arguing?' Hermione thought.
'Because you're always getting into stupid situations,' The second voice taunted.
'It's not my fault that Malfoy's an ass-hole.' Hermione thought defensively.
'Exactly; now go and sit in the corner.' The first voice directed the second.
"Will you two please be quiet?" Hermione yelled.
'Well!' the first voice seemed appalled.
'Indeed!' the second voice agreed.
"Talking to yourself is a sign of madness, you know!" Draco yelled. Of course, kissing Hermione Granger might not have been the best experience in the world, but pissing somebody off on a Saturday morning was always a fun thing to do. Especially to one (or preferably all three) of the Golden Trio; which was why it was too bad Ron had disappeared off into oblivion.
"Yeah and kissing you is always the first." Hermione said to herself, running to the bathroom to brush her teeth and tongue thoroughly.
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The rest of the morning was spent without any remarks. Hermione and Draco had obviously mutually ignored each other in verbal contexts, but Draco kept on shooting Hermione mocking glances and raising his eyebrows suggestively at her. Hermione had the mature approach and either ignored him or rolled her eyes at him.
Both of them had made it a special priority to sit as far away from each other for the rest of the morning. Hermione had only done it because she wanted to stay away from Draco for the rest of her life and Draco had only done it because he knew that if he kept on moving closer to her she'd probably start another argument. And he hated women nagging.
And so Hermione and Draco sat at opposite ends of the living room throwing each other sarcastic (and evocative in Draco's case) looks at each other whilst Hermione tried reading Pride and Prejudice and Draco subtly transfigured some of the many small trinkets belonging to Hermione into things like fur balls and buttons.
Tick, tock.
'I wish he would stop giving me those stupid looks. It was his fault in the first place.' Hermione thought as she turned the page.
'I think I'll change the pincushion into ... a roll of sticky tape. She deserves this after all those glares that she gave me.' Draco thought, as he swished his wand a little bit. In a blink of an eye, the pincushion turned into the intended roll of sticky tape.
Tick, tock.
'Why does he have such an attitude problem?' Hermione kept on reading. 'Why can't he be more like a Mr. Darcy?'
'Photo frame into shell,' Draco thought lazily. 'Does she always look this stupid when she's reading?'
Tick, tock.
'Why couldn't I get a decent bodyguard? Somebody who can at least throw himself in front of me in the line of fire; not get knocked out at the first sign of danger,' Hermione turned another page.
'China doll into Bicorn powder,' another flick of the wand. 'Wish I could transfigure her into a dung beetle.'
Tick, tock.
'I could have gotten a nice, reasonable bodyguard. But no, I had to end up with the un-charming and terribly un-sexy contemporary Wickham.' Hermione sighed with frustration.
'That gives me an idea. Candle into dead dung beetle,' Flick. 'What time is it?' Draco looked up at the clock. He got up.
"I have to go. My important meeting is on now." He went for the door. Hermione kept on reading and ignored him.
Slam.
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Draco didn't usually go on dates during the afternoon. Actually, he didn't usually go on dates full stop. He preferred going to clubs, meeting women and then sneaking back home the next morning. It wasn't as if he couldn't hold down a steady girlfriend (he could if he wanted to), he just didn't choose to. It might have been a bit unfair for the girls, but he didn't care. After all, he was a Malfoy. And a Malfoy's wants and needs always came before anybody else's.
He agreed to meet Tammy at The Three Broomsticks at Hogsmeade that afternoon at 12.30pm. He walked into the bar to find Tammy sitting alone at a booth with a revealing top and lips slicked with lipgloss.
"Hello there." Draco said in his most charming voice as he slid into the booth.
"Hi, Draco," Tammy smiled coyly. "Would you like a drink?"
"I thought that it was customary for the men to order the drink." Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, well, welcome to the 21st century." Tammy winked at Draco and went off to the bar.
Draco looked out of the window. Whilst every other woman that Draco chased looked, acted and thought like Tammy more of less, Draco really didn't seem to tire of his choice in women. Of course, he usually didn't get to know them for more than a night, but he obviously didn't have that option with Tammy. Tammy was best girlfriend to Granger herself, and if he cracked her or got to 'know her really well', then obviously Granger would get the shits with it and then she'd kick him out of her apartment or something. So of course Draco did what every other Malfoy would have done in the same position.
He decided to string her along.
Draco was bored after 'working' so hard (it mostly consisted of him flirting shamelessly with Tammy and sprouting random bits of French which Tammy never understood), and decided that he wanted some play time. He wanted to see how long he could continue this without Tammy getting pissed.
But there was another issue with dating Tammy. After all –
"Hey," Tammy sat down and handed Draco a pitcher of butterbeer. "Fresh out of the tap," Tammy smiled and then clinked glasses with him.
Draco took a sip. "Mm, nice." He winked at Tammy and he watched her blush. "So what do you want to today?"
"I don't know," Tammy took another sip of her butterbeer. "How about we have some lunch after this and then just walk around the shops in Diagon Alley?"
"Je souhaite que vous vous mouriez vache ennuyante," Draco sprouted with a seductive smile on his face. Tammy giggled.
"What does that mean?" she asked, tilting her head before taking another sip of butterbeer.
"It means 'I would love that, beautiful woman'." Draco lied smoothly as he swallowed more of his drink. Tammy seemed to gobble up all that French gibberish.
"Well I would love to as well." Tammy smiled shyly and then drained her pitcher. "Ready to go?"
Draco took a final gulp of his drink and then nodded. He went up to Rosmerta and paid for the drinks (much to the objections of Tammy) and then exited the bar, Tammy clinging onto his arm. They walked down the main strip of Hogsmeade.
"I thought that we were going to Diagon Alley." Draco said, looking at shop windows, but not really seeing anything.
"I don't see why we can't look around Hogsmeade first." Tammy said as they both passed The Shrieking Shack.
"Of course not," Draco agreed, glaring at a few annoying children in front of a Quidditch shop. They quickly scampered away and Draco looked into the window.
"I wonder what scared those children away." Tammy said absent-mindedly.
"Ils fonctionnaient loin de votre visage laid," Draco muttered. Tammy giggled and then snuggled into Draco's arm.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"'They ran away to tell the world of your radiance'." Draco lied again. He didn't really have any qualms about lying to Tammy – it was terribly easy and fun at the same time. Tammy blushed again. "Oh, you have some butterbeer froth on your lip."
"Really?" Tammy asked. "Where?" She wiped her bottom lip.
"Here; I'll get it." Draco wiped his finger slowly over the top of her higher lip. By now, if Tammy turned any redder she would have turned into the colour of Weasley's hair.
"Thanks." She said in a whisper of a voice. Draco cleared his throat.
"No problem." He smirked. "Come on, why don't we get to Diagon Alley now?"
"Alright," Tammy smiled. "I'll meet you inside the Leaky Cauldron, ok?"
"OK." And with a pop! Tammy disappeared.
"Who ever knew that French could prove to be so fun?" Draco asked himself before Apparating to the Leaky Cauldron himself.
The Leaky Cauldron's environment was that of a buzzing and pleasant one with a hint of weirdness. Witches, wizards, hags and many other different magical folk were sitting down having a drink with each other (or by themselves in the case of the hags) and laughing merrily to anything. Tom, the wizened bar-keeper was polishing some glasses behind the counter. Draco found Tammy immediately.
"Hi." He said, softly touching her arm.
"Hello." She said, giving him a toothy smile. "Come on, let's go and eat." She started for the wall connecting to Diagon Alley.
"Great. Where are we going?" Draco suddenly remembered that all he had had that morning was two bowls of cereal and a muesli bar before snogging –
"Oh, this new place that opened up in the Alley. I think it's called Flying Sparks or something." Tammy said. Draco paled further than usual.
"Sparks Will Fly," Draco corrected. He wouldn't be forgetting that name anytime soon. "How about we steer away from that restaurant today?"
"Why? I've been meaning to check it out for a little while." Tammy asked as she stopped walking.
"Well we can look at it next time we go out." Draco said. Tammy beamed. "But for now how about we just stay here and eat? It's nice and cosy and secretive."
"Secretive?" Tammy asked, raising her eyebrows.
"In the sense that if we did something then nobody would see us," Draco whispered. "And nobody seeing would mean nobody telling."
"Right," Tammy winked. "But this time I insist on paying."
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By the time that Draco came home that night Hermione had finished reading Pride and Prejudice and was preparing dinner, even though the both of them knew that she had horrible culinary skills.
Hermione was chopping up some carrots when Draco leant against the kitchen doorway.
"Why isn't there any vodka in this house?" Hermione asked herself as her carrots went into weird shapes.
"Because drunken heads of headquarters aren't really fantastically attractive," Draco answered. "Not that you were attractive in the first place."
Hermione's knife swerved at a dangerous angle from being startled.
"ARGH!" There was a clang of steel on steel and Hermione clutched her left index finger.
"Don't tell me that you've severed your finger, Granger." Draco said, rolling his eyes as he approached Hermione. "I'm hungry enough to eat your cooking and I'm in no mood for you to be chopping off your own body parts."
"Oh trust me; if you stay here, it's not any of my body parts I'll be chopping off." Hermione said through clenched teeth. "Ouch!"
"For goodness' sake ... what did you do?" Draco asked in a bored tone. Hermione made a pained face and showed Draco her deeply cut finger.
Draco groaned and then turned on the tap. Cold water poured through the tap and Draco gently grabbed Hermione's injured finger before running it under the tap.
"Ow!" Hermione grumbled. "Stop squeezing it!"
"You have to put pressure onto it." Draco explained, squeezing her finger harder on purpose.
"MALFOY!" Hermione yelled.
"That would have sounded better over there," Draco jerked his head in the direction of Hermione's bedroom.
"So you're still an asshole when I'm injured." Hermione said.
"Happy to be of service," Draco winked and Hermione gave him a sarcastic look. "Now, let's look at the finger." He pulled Hermione's finger out from underneath the tap. It was still bleeding a little.
"Well, Doctor Malfoy, is it better?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Doctor, eh?" Draco blinked. He liked the sound of that; it gave him a sense of authority. He pulled out his wand. "Curus!" In a flash, the cut disappeared and left Hermione's finger looking flawless. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you." Hermione said begrudgingly.
"Damn, I was hoping if I could kiss it and make it better." Draco said in his usual scoundrel-like demeanour.
"This is the nicest I'm going to get, Malfoy, so you better cherish it." Hermione said, waving her wand at the mess of vegetables on the sink. The vegetables started packing themselves together and then flew onto a plate. Another wave of Hermione's wand and the fridge opened and the plate settled itself onto one of its racks.
"So I can't really do anything to make you any nicer?" Draco asked, throwing Hermione a puppy dog look.
"Nope; not unless you drop dead, anyway," Hermione suggested.
"Not even a good snogging can help you?" Draco asked, snaking his arm around Hermione's waist.
"No." Hermione slipped out of the grip of Draco and headed for the fridge to find anything microwave friendly. She didn't want a repeat of this morning.
"You didn't really seem to think that way this morning." Draco reminded.
"And how would you know?" Hermione asked, finding a jug of pumpkin juice and a packet of microwavable pies.
"I have my ways." Draco shrugged. Hermione pulled out a plate and placed a frozen pie onto it. "Hey, what about my dinner?"
"I thought that you would have eaten on your big, important meeting ...?" Hermione blinked angelically.
"And how would you know?"
"I have my ways."
"Fine then, be a cow." Draco conjured himself a salad. He sat himself down at the dining table whilst Hermione grumbled incoherently under her breath. "I don't know why you don't conjure yourself something."
"I'd rather fire a Crucio at you instead." Hermione replied. She didn't feel like telling him that last time she tried conjuring up something as simple as a sandwich a snail appeared. And whilst she liked escargot, she found it rather unappealing as it left a silver trail on her table. Who would have thought that Hogwarts valedictorian couldn't conjure up a simple sandwich?
Ding!
Hermione's pie was ready.
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When the dishes were washed, food eaten and Hermione's teeth were brushed, Draco and Hermione both settled in for a nights sleep.
But even when Hermione had turned off her light, leaving the apartment in total darkness, she couldn't fall asleep.
It was silly of her to be kept up by something as stupid as what she was thinking of. It wasn't as if she liked Draco; heck, she didn't even think that he was human sometimes (she was probably right on that one), but for some unknown reason she found the thought of Tammy and Draco together a little bit unsettling. Not in the spooky way, but in a different way. It was like jealousy, really, and Hermione couldn't believe that she was feeling that. It was only stupid Draco with Tammy. She didn't like him.
So why was she jealous?
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A/N: Chapter 6 is finished! Yay!
Thank you to all my fantastic readers and reviews; you guys rock! Also, thank you for putting up with the delays in between the chapters. True to my word, December was as hectic as November, but now it's the school holidays, and that means that I have more time to write some more chapters.
And guess what? Apparently, I didn't flunk Science (woohoo!), my group won a Gold award for our plastic bags dresses (woohoo!), I passed the rest of my subjects (woohoo!) and I got an award for drama (Hollywood and Colin Firth, here I come)! A time for celebration ... got to love December!
Ahh, Tammy and Draco on the not-so-disastrous-but-kinda-boring-date this chapter ... Hope you guys enjoyed this kind of slow bit in the chapter, but I wrote it just to show you that Draco wasn't going to physically violent on the date with Tim Tam.
Again, thank you and huggles to all my magnificent reviewers ... Just reminding you that if you guys didn't do your job (and you do it well), then you wouldn't have reached Chapter 6 of The Bodyguard.
So you've earned your slice of ice cream birthday cake if you're: Tori, Rae, blonde-brain, Meg, SmilinStar, NitenGale, Kristen, Emerald Flame, Sophie/a, Tacroy, insanemaniac, IceCrystal, alien726, Christi-Lynn (Mind reader, you are! Kudos to you on the inadvertent suggestion of shutting somebody up by kissing them; it's exactly what Draco did this chapter!) and stargazer starluver.
Hrm, for this chapter I think reviews will earn ... a Christmas stocking filled with lollies (like candy canes – not a personal favourite, but if you guys like them, great!) and chocolates (the author of this Author's Note will not mention any names for the likelihood of them being sued).
Second lastly, for those who don't know French (or didn't use any language translators), here is the English translation to what Draco said in French:
"Je souhaite que vous vous mouriez vache ennuyante" from the bit where Draco and Tammy are sitting in The Three Broomsticks, means "I wish that you die annoying cow" or "I wish you would die you annoying cow" (which was my intended choice of phrase).
"Ils fonctionnaient loin de votre visage laid" from that bit where Draco scares away the children in Hogsmeade, means "They functioned far from your ugly face" or "They ran away because of your ugly face" (which was my intended choice of phrase).
Now I have nothing left to say, so I'll see you all next chapter!
Your devoted fanfiction writer,
--Look at moiye, ploise!—
P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!
P.P.S. YAY FOR THE SCHOOL HOLIDAYS! TIME FOR SHOPPING, SLEEPING IN AND PIGGING OUT ON JUNK FOOD!
P.P.P.S. Luv ya Sophie ;)