Muggle World

Chapter Three:

BOWLING!

Hermione stood in front of a full-length mirror in her room. It was 12:00 p.m. and she was already getting dressed for meeting up with Draco again. Sure her ride wouldn't be there till another hour and a half, but she couldn't help fretting over her appearance. Was she wearing too much makeup? Was too much cleavage exposed? What would Draco thing? —Okay, yeah, now she really was over reacting: She was worried about a Malfoy's opinion! Why was she acting so weird? Still, she couldn't help it. So she continued to stare at her reflection. With little facial makeup on, hair put into a messy-bun while her bangs hung loose, Hermione looked even better than yesterday when she had first tried the dress on.

Spinning around once more, Hermione went to sit on her bed and try to relax—only to get straight back up and check her image once more. While she fixed a strand of her hair, she frowned; why was she obsessing over how she looked for Draco? She shouldn't care—she shouldn't even be hanging out with him in the first place. But now that she was, Hermione found it hard to get him off her mind. Why, why, WHY? It just didn't make any sense! They were mortal enemies, for crying out loud! A single tear formed at the corner of her eye and Hermione turned away from the mirror again. It was too complicated: she couldn't get her emotions strait.

Going over to her closet, she opened it and bent down, rummaging through a pile of miss-match shoes that she never got around to organizing; usually she just wore a pair of worn-out, comfortable tennis shoes. But wearing those, with this dress—no, even Hermione wasn't that fashion blind. Finding a plain black-heeled flip-flop, she dug through the pile till she found the other. She slipped them on and then stood up, immediately noticing the half-an-inch height difference. Swearing this was the last time she looked, Hermione turned back to the mirror. They matched nicely with her out fit—but doesn't black go with everything? —nodded her own approval, and then opened her bedroom door. She swiftly exited and went down the steps and into the living room. There she slumped down into the couch and took a novel off the coffee table; she'd get her mind off everything by reading until Emily came to pick her up.

"Honk! Hoooonk!"

Hermione was startled back to reality from the book she was reading by the sound of a car's horn. Glad that she was the only one there (her mother had a thing about people who 'didn't even have the respect to get out of their stupid car and knock'), Hermione bolted up from the couch and opened the front door. Parked on the curb sat a beaten up, huge blue van, girls' and boys' heads poking out from the top. Hermione frowned: was the car roof missing or something? She walked down the steps and went across the driveway to the van where a side door swung over, revealing Cecil's grinning face right in front of her; others were behind her who also wore the same expression.

"God, Herm!" Cecil said. "Don't you look hot! Drake is so lucky to have you!"

"Drake?" she asked. "Do you mean Draco? Besides, we aren't together. You know that." Hermione climbed in to the back, the others moving aside to make room. There were still the same girls—Emily sitting in front with a boy—but she didn't recognize the three extra guys who were there as well. She gabbed her finger at one. "Who are they?"

All the girls giggled and Emily explained. "This is Raymond, my boyfriend." She placed a hand on the driver's arm, who turned around and smiled at her in acknowledgment; he was pretty handsome, with his long, dark brown hair. "This is Tyler, Mary's boy," she continued, pointing to the one closest to her and the girl Mary hugged him cutely; they made an adorible pair. "And then this is Brook's boy, George." Lastly she motioned to the very back where Brook sat in a guy's lap. "Oh, and everybody: This is Herm, our private school best friend!" The guys said their hellos, and then went back to chatting with there girlfriends. Hermione couldn't help but feel envious.

She took a seat in the middle by Cecil and Sarah, who also didn't have a boy to coo over. At least she wasn't alone. Looking up, Hermione noted that there really wasn't a roof over their heads; the London sun flowed freely in through the top, lighting up the inside brightly. She was about to ask about it when Cecil spoke up. "Since you have Drake to hang out with and all, Mary kinda got jealous so she decided to invite her own boyfriend," she said out of nowhere. "Well, there wasn't room inside Emily's car for an extra person so she invited her boy for his van. Then, since there was room, Brook invited her boyfriend. But now even the van is over crowded with you here now. And me and Sarah are left out of the whole dating process; not the first choice of ours, ya know."

Annoyed that they didn't know his name and thought they were going out, Hermione said, "It's not Drake—it's Draco. And we aren't together; I've told you this a million times." The two girls sighed and rolled their eyes, saying that it was quite obvious he liked her. Hermione ignored the gestures and said, "So, do you guys know what we're doing today? Like another shopping spree or something?"

They both shrugged. "Nope, we have no idea," Sarah answered, cocking her head lazily upward to stare at the sky. "I guess we're just hoping that your Draco will have something in mind…Hey, do you know why his name is 'Draco'? I mean, I've never heard that name used before. It sounds—I don't know—kinda dark and devilish." The rest of the ride to the shopping street was cozy, the talk separated into four groups: The three girls chatting about how a name was originated (Hermione, of course, knew all about it) and the others flirting with one another.

About another twenty minutes later they arrived in the parking lot. And, being the cheap-o-s they are, the city charged them a four-dollar fee to have a space; the large group scrambled out of the stuffy van, glad for the fresh, summer air that rushed through their lungs. They all walked the short distance to the busy street market and pushed and shoved their way to Rue21. The group of nine squeezed in through the automatic doors and Hermione spotted the handsome blonde right away; he was talking to the same guy from yesterday, their faces grim. She tensely walked over to them. "Hey," she said in a quiet, high-pitched voice, even more nervous - their bad vibes were stronger now.

Both the boys turned towards her, the boy quickly looking away as though burned by the sight of her. Draco nodded and started walking towards the entrance. Stumbling after him, Hermione quickly fell in step. She blinked up at him questioningly. "What was all that about?"

"All what?" he asked vacantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Back there, with that cashier. What were you guys talking about?" Draco didn't even spare her a glance as they came to the waiting teenagers. Hermione introduced them all and when the retarded boys went, "Sup, Drake. Nice ta meetcha," she was about to correct them when Draco just shrugged and replied politely, remembering each name.

"So," Tyler spoke up, "what're we gonna do?" Everyone was quiet and, for some reason, all eyes were on Draco. He shuffled his feet once and caught Hermione's eye, his look pleading. Then it hit her: Of course! He didn't know what muggles did for entertainment, growing up in the Wizarding World and all. Coming to his silent demand, she started listing off possible things, counting off on her fingers as though thinking out loud:

"There's movies, arcade, pizza, karaoke, bowling…"

"BOWLING!" everyone cheered in union, knocking Hermione and Draco back a step in surprise. Laughing, they all pushed their way outside once again and headed towards the lot where the van was parked—a waist of four dollars, if you asked Hermione.

When they reached it, Draco stopped dead in his tracks, causing the others to do the same and face him, wondering what was up. "You're riding in that?" he spat with disgust and Hermione winced. Could he be any more blunt?

Looking offended, Raymond said, "It's the only thing that can hold us all. Nothing can get any bigger."

Draco snorted. "Well, I'm taking my car then. I'll follow your lead." With that he started walking in a different direction, the turned back around. "Hey, Herm—wanna come? You could see my new wheels." She hesitated, not liking the idea of being in the same car with a Malfoy. But, remembering the cramp, stuffy van, she decided against it and trotted after him, waving her friends goodbye and gave an apologetic glance at Raymond who did not seem fazed anymore.

They walked in silence, Hermione following, until Draco said, "Vola!" and stopped in front of a green convertible mustang, silver snakes painted on the sides. Hermione gasped; it was a beautiful car, not to mention it matched him well, showing off his house's creature.

"Pretty nice, huh?" Draco grinned. "Might have cost a bit, but nothing us Malfoy's can't afford, right?" He chuckled and went around to the driver's door and jumped in, landing neatly in the seat. Motioning for Hermione to do the same, he started up the mustang and she scrambled into the passenger's seat, closing the door with a soft click.

Reversing out of the space, they saw the beaten up van with heads peering out the top at them. Draco flicked a lazy hand, telling to keep going. The heads bobbed back down and the vehicle slowly started puttering out ever so slowly. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, the impatient Slytherin sighed and trail after them, the meter only saying 2 MPH. "Hope the go faster than this on the highway," he muttered.

Hermione answered, "How else do you think we got here?" With a small laugh, she added, "We were going so fast I thought the thing would fall completely apart!" Silence took over as they turned on to the roads, next the highway. Wind whooshed into the convertible, causing their hair to fly—Hermione had to push her bangs behind her ears. A minute passed by, then two, which seemed like forever with the uncomfortable quiet. Hermione starred at her hands folded in her lap; maybe the crude ride in that van would have been better than this awkwardness.

Another moment passed like this and finally Draco reached out to the radio and turned a knob: hard metal rock blared out from the hidden back seat speakers. Seeing the Gryffindor cringing in disgust, he inwardly smirked and turned down the volume. Still, she looked distressed and he asked, "What? You don't like rock or something?" 'Well,' he thought, 'I guess it makes sense: heavy rock doesn't seem to go well with her.'

Bluntly, the brown head started, "No." A pause. "The only music I hate is this type and rap. They just…don't seem to go well with me." Draco blinked. She'd just read his exact thoughts! And before he realized it, Hermione had reached over and flipped the station. Now some sappy, soft-rock love song played. Giving her a nasty glare, Draco flipped it back—only for Hermione to reach again and change it back to hers. But this time she didn't take away her hand. The two Hogwarts students glared at each other. Draco, one hand still firmly on the wheel, inched the other closer and closer to Hermione's that clung to the radio knob, getting ready to pounce.

"Let go," he warned, his voice threatening yet mocking at the same time.

Hermione grinned devilishly, a look Draco had never seen her use before. In the same tone he had, she replied, "Over my dead body."

Draco raised a thin blonde eyebrow. "I wouldn't put that in such terms, my dear Hermione: they might actually come true one day." Swift as a cat, Draco grabbed her hand and started trying to pry her fingers off. But Hermione clung to it with amazing power—not to mention that she was using her other hand to help at scratching Draco's. That went on for a while, their breathing a bit uneven and faces screwed up in frustration. Finally, after about two minutes of the War Over the Station, Draco had to grab the wheel with both hands again, for the mustang was veering off course and into the middle lane. Because of the twisting and turning of the knob, country music blared out of the speakers. Neither made a move to change it, even though they both hated country with a passion. (A/N: I am a country music fan, so don't get mad at me! Lol)

The Gryffindor sighed heavily and leaned back on the leather seat, closing her eyes. That wassomething, fighting over music with Draco Malfoy. What would Harry and Ron think when she told them? Then it hit her: she couldn't tell her two best friends about this—none of it for that matter. Oh, yeah, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, would totally understand her hanging out with his archenemy! It would so be cool going up to them and saying, 'Hey, guys! How was your summer? Mine was fine, hanging out with Draco and all. Yeah, Draco Malfoy—we started calling each other by our first names because of my muggle friends; they would have thought it weird, you know? So now we're friends! Isn't it wonderful!' The thought made her inwardly groan. What was she even doing there, in the presence of a Malfoy? 'I mean, his father is a Death Eater for God's sake! This isn't right!'

Her thoughts were interrupted by a chuckle to her left. Being the curious type, Hermione glanced over at Draco from the corner of her eyes. The idiot was laughing! A huge grin spread from ear to ear, his body relaxed easily and laughing widely now. He turned his head towards her and Hermione couldn't help it—she smiled despite herself. Then she was laughing too, head turned up and laughter tumbling off her lips freely. Suddenly she was humming along to the music, Draco hitting the dashboard in time. When the song ended and commercials took over, Hermione started giggling so uncontrollably that she ended up snorting loudly. Covering her mouth and nose, she dared an embarrassed look at the man beside her.

He was grinning. "Did you just snort? Oh, my god, that's hilarious!" They were back to the laughing fit once more. "Okay, okay," Draco managed out once they gained a bit of control, "better calm down now—this is the third time that I've gone off course now. I really don't want a ticket." So it was back to the silence, only this time it was welcoming and Hermione couldn't take the silly smile off her face. Draco broke the quiet with, "Now then, could you fill me in?" She looked over at him, his beautiful blonde hair flying in the wind. "What's 'bowling'?"

Again she laughed—he seemed to be good at making her do that…maybe too much for the likes of evil and good. "Bowling is a game that we muggles do—"

"Well, I know that."

"—where you take a ball made of polished marble or something like that and throw it down a lane, aiming at 10 bowling pins at the very end. You want to knock down as many as you can. Oh, and you don't want your ball to roll into the gutters; that's another reason why you want to keep it even and in the middle."

Draco rolled his eyes and, with his cruel honesty, said, "Wow, now doesn't that sound like fun! So you guys think that throwing a ball in a strait line if intertaining? I knew you guys were boring, but still…"

Hermione glared at him. "It's more than 'throwing a ball in a strait line' as you say. We hang out and eat and chill and all those sorts of things. We barely even pay attention to the game!" The stubborn young man rolled his eyes yet again and Hermione sighed. "Look, you'll see my point when we get there. You'll have a great time, everybody always does. I mean kids don't even go there to bowl most of the time, just go to chat with friends."

"Fine, but if I become bored the slightest bit, I swear that I'll leave without a second thought. Okay?"

"Whatever." She turned to the window and watched as the lines of the highway street speed past, trying to keep up with the beat. Her thoughts wandered and the incident at Rue21 with the boy came to mind. "Hey, Draco?" A grunt. "What was up with you and that guy back at the store, really?"

He didn't look at her, didn't answer her question right away. Then: "I don't want to say; you'd laugh at me and start saying I'm turning soft. And, woman, I am not turning soft. That's impossible for a Malfoy." Hermione continued starring at him util he flicked her an angry glare. "What? I'm not going to tell ya, okay? Give it up."

"If you haven't realized from these past six years, Malfoy, I'm not the kind to loose out on anything—either work or gossip. It'd be much easier for both of us if you just spilled instead of me dragging the information out of you. So what is it? Is he one of your Death Eater friends and you're making a plan to destroy the whole muggling world? I'm guess that's why you're here in the first place…"

The Slytherin sharply turned on her, causing Hermione to lean against the doorway. "You have no clue what's been going on in my life," he spat, cold silver eyes drilling into innocent brown ones. "And I don't plan on letting you butt in, Granger. Do you really what to know why I was talking to that fag? Fine. I was telling him to lay off you; that if he even set his eyes on you one more time, he'd never see anything from them again. Happy now? You just ruined my reputation. Congratulations." He faced the font again, concentrating intently on the road with a grim face.

Hermione just sat there, mouth agape, starring at Draco's frustrated form. Did he really just say that? Does that mean that he cares? But wait, that's impossible. He's got to be lying! Her mind was so jumbled she didn't even realize they had arrived at the bowling center. They exited without a word and met up with the others at the entrance. Exchanging quick hellos, the group scrambled in, greeted by the sound of pins being knocked down and alternative music. The air was filled with the smell of polish and nacho cheese.

They all rented out shoes, giving off different sizes—Hermione was surprised to see that Draco was only a size and a half bigger than her. According to everyone's opinions, that was pretty small considering that she was only a seven. She didn't comment on this, only shoved on the "special bowling shoes" and skittered over to the two lanes that they'd taken: four and five. All the boys punched their names into one of the computers while the girls did the other. It was tradition, girls against girls and boys against boys. They never played one another. Don't ask why—Hermione didn't know herself.

And the games started; taunts and cheers were thrown at those up. Hermione, being rusty from not playing in over a year, first got a gutter, but managed to get three down on her second chance. The girls squealed in delight and hugged her—they were defiantly not pros—and she laughed, looking over at the guys' lane. Draco was up, ball in hand and looking sternly down the lane as though measuring everything up. Hermoine bit her lip as he swung back his hand, then forward, and let go: the ball went perfectly down the middle, directly towards the top pin. And then there was the hit—Ca-rack! It was a clean strike. "Dude! Drake! That was freakin' awesome!" all the guys jeered, going over to him and hitting him on the back. "Congrats!" The boys all crowded around him and started shooting comment and comment towards him.

Hermoine walk over to him and grabbed his hand as in to get his attention. He immediately looked down at her, as though expecting her all along. She smiled warmly at him. "I didn't know you could do that, Draco—are you, like, some secret pro bowler or something?"

The blonde smiled back, a true smile. "No, this is really my first time—urm—bowling. I guess it runs in the Malfoy blood." Just then he realized that bringing up his family up wasn't a wise idea because Hermione frowned; he knew that'd he'd ruined the moment and mentally kicked himself. 'Damn! Why do I have to be such an ass?' More cheering was heard over next to the girls and Hermione used this as an excuse to leave, jumping up and down next to the girl Emily who just went. 'Hell.'

The game took up about an hour (because of all the gossiping between every turn). Hermione tried to avoid Draco as best she could, but once the first round was done—Draco winning seventy about all the others—the teens were whining for food. "Hey, Herm!" Marry cried, relaxed comfortably in a bar stool next to the lanes where they were all hanging out. "Since you're the only one up and all, mind if we give you some money and you run up to get us some nachos and coke?" But before she could stutter out her answer, the brunette called out, "Everybody! Herm's being our gal and ordering! Place your money on her and tell her whatcha want!" And then they were all on her, shoving money in her hands and yapping their orders.

When all the crumpled up money was clutched in her hands messily and the teens sat back down to chat, all the Gryffindor could do was stand there, her mouth gapped open in disbelief. "You're joking, right! How was I supposed to remember all that?" All she got was a sympatric look from Emily. Then Draco stood up.

"Don't worry—I heard it all. Pretty much they said seven things of nachos, six cokes, and a blueberry airhead, whatever that is. Here, I'll come with ya to help carry back." Again with his heart melting smile. 'I don't remember him actually smiling before; maybe smirking, yeah, but smiling—and at me? "Come on, let's go." They walked over to the snack bar and ordered Draco's mental list. Why they waited for them to gather everything up, he spoke. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry about—"

"It's alright," she said quickly, cutting off his apology. "I know you didn't mean anything, but…your father being a Death Eater and then rumors on you being one…"

"You don't really believe in that, do you?" he asked, almost pleading for her answer to be no.

"…" She didn't say anything for a moment, only started recounting the money still in her hands. "I…Well, I don't know…what to believe anymore." Hermione looked up at his with tears in her eyes. "Draco, we shouldn't be together like this! You shouldn't have bought me this dress and I shouldn't have taken a ride from you! For God's sake, you're my best friend's enemy!" A single tear rolled down her cheek and Draco wiped it away with is thumb, then trailed his hand slowly down her face, cupping her cheek for a brief moment and letting go.

"But am I your enemy too, Hermione? Am I?" His voice was a whisper and she shivered in emotion, wishing for the feel of his hand on her face again. It was so warm. "Please, tell me the truth. Or am I just a little bit of entertainment for the summer so you can go back in the fall and say you tricked Draco Malfoy into falling in love with you?" Now she could tell he was joking.

"Falling…in love with you…" She shook her head, getting the silly ideas out of her mind. "I'm thinking that's you're plan actually, Draco—to fool me and tell Harry and Ron so they'll hate me. It seems like something you'd do." Her voice was serious and eyes full of sorrow.

His eyes bore into hers, a twinkle of hurt within the depths. "People change, Hermione—even Malfoys do. But that's kind of out there, isn't it?" He gave a sad chuckle. "I guess I can't blame you, or change your mind. Huh." Hermione was about to argue, tell him he was wrong, when the food came and the girl asked for the money. She handed her the crumpled cash and Draco grabbed one tray, she the other. Walking in back of him, Hermione wished for the world to take back what she said, to get another chance. But knowing Draco that would most likely never happen.

When they arrived back to the group, the teenagers pretty much tackled them, reaching for their food and drink. Hermione sighed heavily when they all went back to their seats and started chatting once more, munching on chips as well. Being the friend she is, Emily motioned for her to come over, pointing at two other seats by her and George. Taking the invitation, she sat down and started joining their conversation on the movie Signs, how it was scary to the girls and 'Fucking awesome!' to the boys. Draco quickly took the space next to her, leaning over to listen with curiosity. She made a mental note to tell him about different types of movies…if he'd ever talk to her again.

About another thirty minutes passed, then all the guys demanded a rematch from Draco. Relenting, he did so—only to beat them at a higher score than before: ninty-eight. It was around four when they were finished and by then the girls were all whining to get out of there, that they needed to do some chore at home or that the bowling ally was just plainly getting boring. "Alright! Alright! We'll leave, sheesh," Raymond laughed. He turned back to Draco who was leaning against the table next to Hermione. "Hey, you know this isn't over right? We're going to have another go at this—no one's better than the master!" Now everyone laughed, making cracks on how he was anything but a pro.

"Well, I guess I'm going home as well," Hermione said. "Who's taking me?" she asked.

Before the others could answer, Draco said, "I am." They split up once more, Hermione and Draco in his car and the other eight in the van. Starting up the mustang, he pulled out and asked, "So…where's your house?" And that's pretty much how the conversation went, Hermione telling directions and Draco asking how long to follow the road and such. When they finally reached it, the two Hogwarts students sat in silence, Draco gripping the steering wheel and Hermione looking down at her lap, not wanting to get out; she had to apologize for her stupidity. Taking a deep breath, she began—but was once again cut off by Draco.

"It's my fault, Hermione. And you're right: it is another damn rude thing I'd do for a cruel laugh. I can't blame you for that either." He turned towards her, his eyes searching hers. "And you're also right about us. We shouldn't be like this, it's too dangerous; people will talk, we'll loose our reputations. It'd be better if we left each other alone."

"But I don't want to!" she quickly cried. "You asked if I was your enemy, too. And…I decided I'm not." Hermione watched his lips turn up in a grin—then just as quickly turn back down, not wanting to show his relief. She smiled as well. "People do change, I was just too afraid I guess, too afraid of the thought of having feelings…" At the last second Hermione stopped herself from saying "for you." Blushing, she looked away, too embarrassed to look him strait in the face. "So I want to be your friend, Draco, no matter what the others think. To hell with them if they don't approve. That's their problem."

Draco touched her hand, making her look at him. "You don't mean that, Hermione, at least not all of it," he said. "Because I don't. Yeah, I want to be your friend more than anything—I don't have any true ones. But I can't loose my reputation, and you can't either. If they go to hell when we're found together, they'll drag us down as well. As much as I want to, we can't be seen with each other at school. So…we'll have to enjoy this one summer. And God, do I plan to. I—I need you in my life, Hermione. I need you."

"Draco—"But then his lips were on hers in a passionate, forceful kiss. Taken by surprise, Hermione tried to move back but his hand was on her neck, pushing her closer to him despite the seat belts. She had only kissed one other man, and that had been Krum back in her fourth year. And boy was it nothing like this. "Draco," she breathed again when they finally broke apart, the need for air urgent. "Draco, please…"

A soft moan was her only reply, his face fit perfectly in the crook of her neck. "You're so beautiful, Herm," he whispered, biting on the soft flesh. "Now go." Still he didn't make a move to let go of her at the least, only began stroking her hair lovingly and the other hand gripping her thigh. "Damnit! Leave already!" he growled, pinching the soft flesh on her leg hard enough to make her yelp a little but not break the skin.

"I…I don't want to." Hermione burrowed her head deeper into his chest, breathing in his close sent. "Don't make me get out."

"You've got to," he hissed, only this time giving her a little shove. "I might do something we'll both regret in the long run."

The authority in his voice caught Hermione off gaurd and she pushed back a bit to look him in the face. His eyes were glazed over and she bit her bottom lip. "Fine," she whispered but only held out her palm. "But first give me pen and paper--you need my number." He complied and leaned over the Gryffindor and rummaged through the glove compartment. Draco found the material and thrust in with a bit more force than need into her hands. She scribbled down her name and then her house phone number. Smiling, she handed them back to the man and they locked eyes one last time. She smiled to his stern face that held no emotion it seemed and touched his cheek breifly before exiting out of the car without another word. She jogged up the driveway and then up the stairs before opening the door, never looking back.

No one was home yet and the house was dark. Hermione shut the front door and then leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. She sighed deeply and tried to get her thoughts in order. Had that just happened? Had the famous Draco Malfoy just done that to her? It seemed impossible, yet excited her more than words.

But then she remembered their conversation and a tear ran down her face. Harry and Ron hated the Slytherin's guts...and she was suppose to as well. Sighing, Hermione stared up at the ceiling and let the tears flow freely. This summer would be the only one they would get to learn about one another and then, it was back to lustful hate.