Feels Good to Get Away, a tale from the charming but illogical mind of M.T.Froste
Thankyou all for the fan-bloody-tastic turn out in reviews. On ya guys! It's taken me a while to write this chapter because I knew where I wanted it to go but just not where to start it. I strained my mind long and hard and this is what I've finally come up with, I do hope it's up to the standards you guys are looking for. A word to the wise: I have a strange obsession with Gilderoy Lockhart, but fear not this is just a cameo appearance and he will not return ever again in the story, (unless I need a character to be hit by a bus (actually that's not a half bad idea, takes note)) but I just needed some one to shove into that particular scene and his personally seemed to fit perfectly with the effect I was looking for. I've also gone into as much detail in describing Fortescue's as was humanly possible, I hope it's how you all picture it, if not, scrap my description and let your imagination run wild and build one for yourself, because I think you'd do a far better job than what I've come up with. So feel free. Desriptions aren't really my forte.
So I hope you all enjoy and happy Easter. – Madley
-CHAPTER FOUR-
Malfoy Antiquity comes to an End
One of the most prominent families of the few surviving heritage families of the past hundred years has been forced to endure a rude awakening as to where they stand in society after their soul heir walked out on the family heritage and all that it stands for.
The Malfoy family, known throughout the country for their purity in society and wealth, dating back to the early 1700's, and considered to be one of the most esteemed and highly thought of families in the country's history, had their linage cut short after heir to the family's renowned heritage and fortune, Draco Malfoy (17), left the family's Hillshire manor late yesterday afternoon, and vowed never to return. The family had been one of the most distinguished in its linage and it was thought the tradition would be upheld for numerous generations to come, any thoughts of this have now been cut short.
Earlier this morning Lucius Malfoy told reporters the family will not be perturbed by the minor setback. The family heritage will reign on, as their son will return. "My son has merely reached an age of true understanding of what being in this family means and is simply overwhelmed by all that he must uphold in the years to come. It is something he must go through in order to grasp the meaning of what the family stands for. Upon understanding he will return."
Despite the composed faces put on for the cameras both parents appeared anxious for their son to return home.
Those associated with the family seem not as optimistic as the Malfoys about the young heir's return. Nor about the fact that anyone who would willingly walk out on such a prestigious title should be allowed so easily back into the family fold. When asked about the matter, one commented, "I respect Lucius's judgment and trust in his son, but if this had happened say a century ago, something like this wouldn't have been taken to with such ease. Once an heir left they were disowned, but in the case of the more respected families it wasn't seen fit to have a disownment written against the family name, in these cases the heir was merely cast aside and classed as a disgrace to the family name. Times and traditions have changed, I admit, but in my eyes 'once a disgraced heir, always one'."
The whereabouts of Draco Malfoy is not yet know…
"Who writes this shit?" muttered Draco.
The man standing next to him glanced over at the paper he was reading, frowned at the picture captioned 'Disgraced heir, Draco Malfoy', looked up at the boy holding the paper and then back to the picture.
Draco raised an eyebrow to the man's confused look, any minute now, he thought, it can't take that long to make the connection.
The man's puzzled frown increased as he looked at Draco for a third time and finally opened his mouth, gesturing at the photo in the paper the boy held, "Is that you?"
"No," said Draco flatly, looking away from the paper and out through the train's window at the countryside flashing past.
"Amazing that, the resemblance is uncanny," said the man gazing at the photo again.
Just for the fun of it, Draco brought the paper closer to his eyes and squinted at the photo of himself, "Yeah, now that you point it out I can really see the likeness."
"But having a closer look the nose is completely different to start with, not to mention you have higher cheek bones," the man pointed out.
Draco rolled his eyes at the man's denial of the blatantly obvious, but gave him a quick smile, liking the way he had so easily accepted the lie.
"You've got more character than this one looks like he could ever have," said the man nodding at Draco and returning the smile with a tooth-filled grin of his own. He held out a hand, "Gilderoy Lockhart."
Draco took the out stretched hand, but was struck with the problem of introducing himself after plainly denying being the young man in the photo. Instead he smiled and shook the hand, "Nice to meet you, sir."
It seemed to be enough for Lockhart. "Going away, I see," said Lockhart beaming and nodding at Draco's case. "Holiday is it?"
"Yep, been planning this one for a while," Draco lied, well half of it was true.
"What's a strapping young lad like yourself doing travelling alone? No lady friend, I see," said Lockhart glancing around the crowded carriage, "Or are we meeting up with her there. Oh yes, that'll be it, isn't it?" He didn't wait for the response, "You know this takes me back to my days when I was your age, went travelling myself, marvellous it was…"
Draco found himself steadily losing interest in the conversation and started to get irritated when Lockhart didn't take the obvious hints that he couldn't careless about the month the man had spent in Berlin and was relived to get away as the train pulled into the next station. "This's my stop. It was nice meeting you." He quickly escaped through the crowded carriage and out onto the quiet platform.
He threw the paper into the bin as he exited the station, wondering why he'd even bothered to buy it. 'Despite the composed faces put on for the cameras both parents appeared anxious for their son to return home.' Jesus, he had never read such bullshit in his life. The day Lucius Malfoy put on a brave face for the cameras to try and hide the fact he was distraught from the loss of his beloved son, would be the day Draco would run naked through his new home's town centre. Likelihood of that: a big whopping zero, well perhaps a point five percentage chance- you can never tell these days when the urge to streak through town will become too much for one to handle.
Draco turned and looked up the main road and noticed the store he'd been in the other day. Carrying his case he headed towards it realising he'd need to get some food before he headed for his house, otherwise he'd have to walk all the way back after dropping off his case.
He entered the store and picked up a basket, dumping his case just inside the door. He wandered up and down the isles wondering what to get; he'd never had this kind of freedom in what he'd eaten. It had always been whatever the cook had prepared which had always been something he'd liked. There was also the fact that he was probably the first Malfoy to set foot inside a shop like this with the intention to buy something from it in about a hundred years.
He couldn't help but smile as he thought of this and then thought about how much his life was going to be changing in the years to come, hopefully for the better.
"Jesus, I don't even know how to cook," he suddenly realised as he stared at a packet of dried pasta.
"And no one can live on takeaway all their life," said a voice from behind him.
He spun round and came face to face with the girl he had met the other day.
He laughed, "So very true. It seems I'm going to have to learn."
"Ah cooking," she said shaking her head and staring at the packet of pasta in his hands, "A skill I'm still yet to master." She sighed and shook her head one last time before looking back at him and holding out a hand, smiling kindly. "I'm Hermione Granger."
Draco took the hand and smiled back at her, "Draco Malfoy."
She frowned and opened her mouth but Draco cut her off before she could say anything, "Yeah," he said with a grim look on his face.
She looked him up and down taking in his rain soaked hair that had now dried but was sticking out at odd angles, his still damp coat, the expensive branded shoes that were now sodden and encrusted with dirt and finally the pained look in his eyes to not let her judge him because of who he was.
Draco was shocked as she smiled sympathetically at him. No one had ever done that before, people had always looked at him, seen everything he and his family stood for and hated him for it, their eyes had always been filled with jealousy or just plain fear, no one ever knew how to react around him or what to say, but perhaps Hermione standing here now still smiling genuinely was a sign for what was to come.
"So Draco," she said looking away from him and gazing at the shelves around them, "What do you propose we get you for your first cooking lesson?" She turned back and beamed at him and Draco couldn't help but beam back.
An hour later the two new friends stood outside Fortescue's heavily ladenned with shopping bags. Draco lifted the catch on the gate and they stepped into the garden. Hermione had always been amazed at how well kept the garden had always looked considering no one looked after it. The wall was just above the height of a grown man and was so much covered in vines and ivy that the only part of the original wall visible was at the base where the ivy was yet to reach. The gate itself was made of blackened iron and was also entwined with the vine aswell as a pink flowered creeper. It was a metre and a half in height and the bars were a hand's width apart so you were able to look through it into the garden and see through to the cottage. Past the gate was a partially hidden cobblestone path leading to the front door. It seemed to wind its way through the lush green foliage of the sunny yellow lilies with their open trumpet shaped flowers, past the scattered bushes of the regal looking flowers coloured in shades of red, orange and pink with their ruffled petals and around the delicate icy white leaved bushes of the winter irises. In the corner of the garden stood a magnificent flame tree, surrounded by all the flowers, which Harry and Hermione had always longed to climb. Its branches grew higher then any other tree in the village and were covered in the beautiful golden leaves and blossoms, some of the branches had tangled their way into those of the oak that stood next to it giving off a wonderful contrast between the soft greens and honeyed reds and oranges.
The two of them stopped where they were standing on the path up to their knees in blossom, taking in the beauty of it.
"Wow," Hermione breathed. After spending half their life fantasising about the house neither she nor Harry had ever set foot inside it, let alone the garden. "You can't even see the lawn," she exclaimed. And it was true, not one patch of grass was visible under the shrubs and blossoms, it was like the whole of the ground had lifted a few feet in the air and began where the top of the plants were seen. The whole thing was now covered in a wash of colour and greenery.
"After growing up at the manor you become quite sick of the sight of perfectly mowed lawn everyday of your life," said Draco as he waded through the flowers up to the cottage door.
The cottage was two stories but only because of the small loft that stuck out of the brown roof swarming with purple wisteria. The walls were white but two thirds of them were covered in ivy and a creeper with peach blossom. Most of the windows had creepers growing through their decorative fine bars and looking at the door it seemed it was going to be a bit of work to unravel the ivy from the handle. All the windows where equip with open green wooden shutters going along with the motif of the green wooden leadlight front door.
Draco placed his case and the few shopping bags he was carrying at his feet and pulled the key from his pocket, placing it in the lock and turned it. He pried the ivy away from the handle saying, "God, that stuff grows quickly I've gotten it off the handle the past three times I've been here."
He turned the handle and pushed open the door as Hermione stood watching with bated breath thinking, Harry's going to be livid when he finds out I've been inside.
They shuffled inside and Draco closed the door behind them and hung his coat on the hook in the entrance hall. He shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, he was finally here, he'd done it.
Hermione was shocked to find the house already full of furniture. Draco noticed this and smiled. "I've been moving it all in slowly over the past two weeks."
She nodded and walked into the room next to the entrance hall, which turned out to be the lounge. In the corner of the room stood an antique looking desk and chair next to a beautiful bookcase filled with novels and encyclopedias. Hermione resisted the urge to rush over and grab the closest one and settle down on the green velvety looking couch and begin to read. Next to the couch were two black high backed chairs and despite their appearances turned out to be extremely comfortable when Draco offered her a seat as he went to put the shopping in the kitchen and his case in his room. In the centre off the chairs was a small wooden coffee table and against one wall was a cosy looking fireplace. Hermione couldn't help but notice how bare the mantle looked with only one framed picture on it of a small blonde boy looking fondly at a small ball of white fur he was cradling in his arms. Not one picture of any of his family or friends. I suppose that makes sense, she told herself but she felt something twinge painfully in her heart as she thought about it.
"I'm going to find some friends to sit with you on this mantle," she told the small boy in the photo.
Draco came back into the room closely followed by a beautiful looking cat with pure white fur and ice blue eyes. "This is Beatrix," he said as Hermione eyed the cat. "Poor thing's been stuck here the past week. I had to drop her off with a large supply of cat food which she seems to have managed to have gotten through extremely quickly seen as there was more than enough for at least two weeks," he frowned at the slim cat who turned and looked almost guiltily at him. "I didn't know how long I'd be," he explained. "So I left more than was needed." He squatted down in front of the cat and began whispering to it. Hermione, only picking up a few snippets of 'you'll get fat if you do that again' and 'you've done a good job looking after the place I must say', smiled at the boy and was reminded strongly of Harry.
"So," said Draco standing up, "How about that cooking lesson?"
Hermione laughed as they headed towards the kitchen, "I'm warning you now I'm probably the worst person to teach you."
"You can't be that bad," said Draco reasonably. "At least you know how to cook."
"I suppose," she said helping him unload the shopping bags onto the bench. "But some would say differently."
"Really?" Draco turned from putting the fruit in a bowlon the dining room table and raised an eyebrow. "You're that bad?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
---
After entering the kitchen to find black smoke billowing from the oven they had given up on the rest of the cooking lesson. The attempted vanilla cake had turned into a charred mess far beyond any efforts of resurrection.
Despite the failure they had had fun. There was the point when Hermione had started swearing at the mixture for not sticking together and Draco had pointed out, with a slight smirk playing on his lips, that she had forgotten to put the eggs in. The shade of red she had turned had been priceless and Draco's smirk had turned into a fit of laughter, which resulted in him finding a smashed egg dripping down his face.
"Oh you're dead," he had stated glaring at her, wiping egg from his hair and picking up a handful of mixture. Hermione had sprinted from the room after seeing the glint of revenge in eyes and the newly replaced smirk on his lips but wasn't able to get out quick enough and was hit in the back of the head.
"I knew I should've called Harry to help," said Hermione sitting on the couch, "But that would've meant admitting he was right and I can't cook."
"But you can't," said Draco from his chair, stroking the cat in his lap and dodging the pillow thrown at him. "C'mon Hermione, isn't the state of my oven enough to prove that?"
"Bloody hell, not you too," she said frustrated.
Draco laughed, "Why don't you just admit defeat?"
"Because he'll never let me forget it, that's why. Besides, would you ever admit defeat?" she threw back at him.
Draco didn't even have to think about it, "OK, stupid suggestion."
Hermione looked out the window and saw the sun was starting to set, "I better get home before it gets dark. But this was really fun, we should do it again sometime."
"But next time, please, no cooking," said Draco placing Beatrix on the floor and getting up from the chair to walk Hermione to the door.
"OK, I admit I cannot cook for shit," she grinned and walked out the door, "But don't tell Harry I said that or I'll kill you."
"Oh, I'd like to see you try," sneered Draco, but the sneer quickly turned into a smile.
"I'll see you round Draco, drop by the store anytime you want and I'll introduce you to Lavender and maybe we'll be able to find Harry if he's not off in some forest somewhere 'capturing it all' as he says," she rolled her eyes and grinned. "Bye."
"Bye." Draco shut the door and slid down it onto the carpet beaming. He had never had more fun in his life; his parents would be spinning in their graves (not literally of course considering they were both unfortunately alive and well) if they knew what he'd been up to.
He leant against the door with his eyes closed for a while until a strong smell of salt wafted through the open lounge room window towards him.
He quickly jumped up, an idea hitting him and he rushed into the shower, washing all the egg and mixture from his hair, face and arms and towelled off. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a white polo shirt and walked out the door, "I'm off to the beach," he called out to Beatrix who opened one eye to acknowledge him before going back to sleep.
The sun was low in the sky as Draco walked out on the soft white sand carrying his shoes. He carefully rolled up the bottom of his pants and stepped into the shallows of the water. The water lapped around his ankles sending cool shivers through his body. He stood still admiring the view of the sunset but was rudely interrupted by some high-pitched giggling. He looked over his shoulder and saw two girls clinging onto one another and laughing madly as they ran in and out of the water squealing. They kept glancing over their shoulders at a boy who was sitting on one of the dunes clearly trying to get his attention. Draco watched as one of them pushed the other over causing her friend to scream and quickly look back to see if they'd been noticed. The boy on the dune didn't even look up; he seemed oblivious to their not so subtle attempts for his attention. Instead he seemed to be concentrating on the sketchpad leaning against his knees. Draco left the water and went to sit on the sand in a place where he could observe both the boy and the girls. Where he was sitting the squeals weren't as loud but he now found he was in range of the boy. A particularly loud squeal and cry of "Han-naah!" caught his ears followed by a frustrated sigh. Draco turned and saw the boy's face was now visible as he had looked up from his work and was now glaring at the girls. Draco's breath caught as he took in the stunning green eyes and dark windswept hair. The boy shook his head before shifting his attention back the pad. Draco kept watching him, hoping for another look at those eyes. He didn't have to wait long before the air was cut with more ear piercing laughter and the boy looked up, slamming his sketchbook shut, muttering, "for fuck's sake."
Draco couldn't help but smile at the comment. The boy put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples a few times before looking up again, this time his focus was on Draco. Draco suddenly realised he had been watching the young man for the past five minutes at least, he must've noticed. The boy stared at him for a few seconds frowning slightly before smiling. Draco's heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to stop staring stupidly as the boy started to frown at him after getting no response. Draco quickly smiled and the boy stopped frowning and smiled again before picking up his sketchbook and getting up. He looked one more time at Draco before walking up the path back towards the town.
Draco lay back in the sand, mind buzzing, grinning foolishly but not knowing why. The girls interrupted his thoughts and he decided to follow suit by getting up and walking up the same path the boy had taken.
As he reached his gate and waded through the shrubs and blossom he had decided one thing, he was going to the beach tomorrow and he hoped like hell he'd back tomorrow, there was something about that boy Draco couldn't quite place yet but whatever it was, was too intriguing to let pass by.
A/N: Yeah, I admit, not much of a first meeting, I know, appologies all round. And if i was you guys and I was reading this story i reckon i'd feel pretty ripped off, heh, yeah sorry about that. But the next chapter will hold an actual actual meeting which will involve more than smiling, perhaps even actual conversation- GASP! But I dunno that'd be asking a lot. lol. No I promise it will, they'll talk.
And I have a question for all you fanfic obsessors, when does a rating go from T to M? And where does kissing fit in under all that? I know it's probably written in the guidlines, but can anyone seriously be screwed reading them.
Also another question: should Harry's parents be dead? I'm leaning towards yes, but what do you guys think? Thanks to my annonymous reviewer- ARandomPerson, for bringing it up.
Until next time- Madley-Tassida