Author's Note: Hey, everybody! Here's a new chappy fer ya! Tell me whatcha think about it, okay?

Muggle World

Chapter 4:

He's Escaped

Draco lay on one of the queen-sized bed in the Holiday Inn suite. It was 11 o'clock a.m. but he was still dead asleep; not a big surprise, seeing as he was up till three that night, fantasizing about Hermione and their heated moment. The hotel room door opened and Draco groaned at the slam of it shutting, flipping over so the sheets tangled around his body.

The annoying tapping of heels against marble ground began to drag him out of slumber. Then a sad voice was whispering next to him, calling his name to wake up. Draco groaned again, burying his face under the comforter; he wasn't ready to leave his peaceful sleep for reality. "Go away, Mother—lemme rest for another hour..."

"No, Draco!" Narcissa whimpered. "Son, look, damn it! Just look at the stupid paper, please!" The covers were ripped off his body and the blonde roared in anger, cool air rushed over him, replacing the body warmth--dark as replaced with blinding light from the sliding screen door. He blinked several times, letting his vision clear from sleep's have. The 17-year-old boy sat up on the bed and glowered down at the woman kneeling at the front, clutching a newspaper in her hands. "He's escaped." She thrust the paper into his arms and starred at his through anxious eyes. Draco frowned and looked down at the paper.

First thing he noticed was it was the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding newspaper—and the second was his father had made the front cover: A black and white picture of Lucius Malfoy, looking grim in a prison uniform, was moving at the bottom right hand corner, a title about it reading, "Death Eater Malfoy escapes." Draco hurried on to read the article below:

Around 12 o'clock midnight (June 21, 06), Lucius Malfoy, one of many Death Eaters caught, escaped Azkaban Prison with two allies from his cell, 277. One auror was killed in the process, another injured, ending with third degree burns on his arm and side. He is currently being cared for in St. Mungo's Hospital; he is most defiantly going to live and be back on the job in just a few weeks.

Rumor has it that a small band of Dementors, three suspected, were involved with this departure, helping with opening the cell along with receiving back their wands. All Dementors are being held tight for now, not being allowed to guard Azkaban until everything has been settled (maybe not even then).

The Ministry of Magic has been on the case since the first second it happened and is on the trail right this moment, going the whole distance on any slither of a hint on Malfoy's rout. When asked for a report, none of the members would comment; only former auror Alastor Moody replied, "No comment—except that the bastard wont get away. He's too much of a resource of You-Know-Who and we don't plan to give up easily. We're giving this our whole body and mind." No information on the ordeal with Malfoy, but at least it gives us the confidence that the Ministry has a loyal workforce. Hope is strong in our light and dark.

No contact has made with Lucius's family, Death Eater Narcissa, his wife, and then his 7th year student at Hogwarts son, Draco. Owls have been dispatched to their manor, but no responses reported. When aurors were sent after then, the place was deserted; only a house elf was found and it would not answer to questioning. It is possible that Lucius has already reached them and they had fled. Or the two had already abandoned the house for shelter with You-Know-Who. There are a million guesses, but no one knows for sure. Still we are trying to find them.

Lucius Malfoy could be anywhere out there—either in our Wizarding world or the Muggles. So therefore we are giving out a warning—this man is dangerous; stay indoors at most times with doors and windows securely locked. If you cannot stay in, be on your guard! Hopefully he will be caught soon, but there's no reason to risk anyone's life.

--Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet publisher

"Shit!" Draco sprang out of the bed, only a pair of black boxers clothing him, and began pacing around the room, his feet tingling with cold from marble against bare skin. So his father has escaped, causing a huge uproar in the Wizarding World…Was he really searching for them? And what would he do if he figured out they were in the Muggling World, on their own free will? Draco absently reached up and stroked a thin, long scar running along his left shoulder. He had received this mark a couple years back, when Lucius had came back to the Malfoy Manor after a meeting with the Dark Lord. Obviously it didn't go so well, for he was drinker than Hell and angrier than a starved serpent.

First he'd barked at Narcissa to bring out a bottle of their strongest wine then started on Draco. He doesn't remember what he said or did for it, but it pissed him off ever further and the next thing he knows Lucius had taken out his wand and yelled a spell directly at him. Thankfully because of all the drinking, his father's words were slurred and jumbled, causing the curse's effect to weaken. Still, it left a huge, bloody gash trailing down his shoulder, digging deep to the bone. That night Draco had run away, leaving to treat his wounds alone and giving time for Lucius to calm down.

The scar, even though faded, reminded him all the time on what his father could do to them. Fear weld into him: he couldn't let that jerk do that again; he wasn't going to let that bastard hurt his mother emotionally and him physically again. But what could he, a mere teenager, do about it? Nothing. Draco's shoulders sagged and he dropped into a near by chair, burying his face in his hands. "What are we gonna do?" he moaned.

Narcissa still stood there, but she spoke, her voice squeaking with fear. "We've got to find him, Draco—we have to take him back under our wings and go back to life—"

"I don't want to go back to that damn life!" the Slytherin burst, shooting his mother a glare. "God damn it, I was tiered of him and I know you were too! You might not admit it, but with him gone, we had a chance to be free; you and me both wanted that more than anything else, even though we were both raised on the Dark Side. Give it up, Mother, you were glade for a break. But the thing is…" Draco looked away. "I don't think I'm ready to go back to that fucking war. I'm just now getting my feeling straight, understanding the world around me—the whole world. And I'm not done exploring yet."

Sniffing, the woman rubbed her nose and said, "I know… But we can't, son, and you know it. He'd find us no matter what…" Yeah, even as much as he wanted to disagree, Draco knew she was right: the man wouldn't stop till he won. "So I guess this is the deal right here: We did not have this conversation, okay? We were not talking about your father like this; we were rejoicing about his freedom and couldn't wait to see him again. And that's why we're leaving today, going back to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he's there with him, telling any gossip he got in the prison…" She continued to gabber on like that and walked to the closet, pulling out four large suitcases. Draco watched as she started taking clothes off hangers and folding them into the bags, then started on the drawers next to the queen-sized beds. He couldn't believe it—were they actually leaving just to go back to that Hellhole, just to be beaten for their "retarded stupidity"?

And then Hermione popped in his head. A strong yet unfamiliar emotion stirred in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to leave her—not like this! The kiss last night… As much as he wanted to throw it away, Draco couldn't help but think about it: how sweet and innocent it was, how free and willing. It wasn't like Pansy or any of the other Slytherin sluts. This was full of something he couldn't explain…

For some reason it made him want to cry.

Standing up, Draco grabbed some cloths and his wallet, put them on and then cleared his throat to get his mother's attention. Narcissa looked up from packing her son's shorts, starring at his in question. "Mum, you've met some people around here, haven't you?" She slowly nodded her head. "Well…so have I. And I can't just leave without saying goodbye because…that wouldn't be fair when I see them at Hogwarts in the fall and treat them like shit again.

Narcissa gasped. "Are you telling me you've befriended an enemy? Who is it, a Ravenclaw—no, a Gryffindor! Please say that's a lie, Draco!" He didn't answer, only looked at the floor. A thought grabbed the woman's mind: "It isn't that Potter boy who lives around here?"

"For God's sake, no!" Draco bellowed, shocked that she'd even think that. "I'd never befriend the 'One-Who-Lived'! I would never even like the bitch who has caused the Dark Side so much trouble!" Then Hermione popped back in his head. Wasn't she Potter's best friend? Shit, that was no better than he himself. Draco heaved a heavy sigh then started walking towards the door. "What I'm trying to say, Mother, is that we should both say our good-byes to everyone; it only seems respectful, right?" He opened the door a crack and looked at his mother one more time. "I think Father can last for a couple more hours. We'll meet up back here, okay? Then we'll leave." Draco nodded at Narcissa and exited the suite. He groaned loudly and ran his hand through his blonde hair. What was he going to say to Hermione…?

The Slytherin shuffled his way down to the first floor and found a pay phone in the lobby. Reaching into his back pocket, Draco brought out a piece of paper with Hermione's number scribbled on it; last night he'd spent around ten minutes writing the phone number down and stuffing it in every pants pocket he owned. Yeah, some might think he was some kind of a stocker—but it wasn't that, he was just afraid of loosing it. Draco studied the phone for a moment, trying to understand how to use it without completely looking like an idiot. Once he finally thought he understood, Draco punched in the numbers and awkwardly put the receiver to his ear.

After the first ring, there was a click then a voice barked, "Hello!"

He was taken aback. "H—Hermione?"

--

"Draco!" she breathed, sighing in relief. "God, I thought maybe…" Actually, she did know what she thought might have happened. When she'd first woke up at seven o'clock a.m. and read the Daily Prophet that was delivered, she had freaked and waited by the phone in the kitchen ever since, praying that the Slytherin would call. "I'm, well, just glad you called; that article in the paper freaked me out a bit."

A sad chuckle came from the other end. "Yeah, I'm still alive. But…" An uncomfortable silence. "Do you think that I could come pick you up? I need to…say good bye."

Hermione choked down a cry. So he was leaving! And they'd only began to understand each other for a day. "Um, yeah, sure…I'll be ready. Remember where I live?"

"How could I forget," she heard him mumble under his breath and her heart flipped. "Yeah, I'll be right there. See ya soon."

"See you soon," she whispered back. Then there was a click and the line went dead. Hermione hung up as well and banged her head against the kitchen counter numerous times. "No, no, no!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "How could this be happening—and right after last night!" The Gryffindor abruptly stood up, knocking the stool she had sat in toppling down. She didn't even bother picking it up and ran to her room where she quickly changed out of her pajamas and into the closest thing she found—a pair of light jeans that were ripped at the knees and a baggy T-shirt with the logan "Hoot" on it; she usually wore it as a night shirt, but there wasn't enough time to worry about looks! She just needed to know what was going on with Draco and his father. Running a hairbrush roughly through her hair and slipping on some plain blue sandals, she rushed downstairs and then out to the front where she flopped down on the porch. Tapping her foot nervously and looking anxiously down the street, waiting for Draco to pull up and explain everything!

About fifteen minutes later the green convertible mustang stopped at the curb of her house and Hermione bounded down the steps and entered the car, slamming the door with more force than she expected. Then they were staring at each other, gray-blue eyes on chocolate brown. "Hermione…" Draco murmured and looked back at the steering wheel. "No, no it's Granger again, isn't it?" He sighed and started the car back up again. Hermione's heart sank. "Let's go somewhere we can talk…where we can work this all out to a reasonable place."

The ride seemed to go on forever in a dead, uncomfortable silence; Hermione had no clue where they were heading and didn't care. All she wanted was to rewind time back to last night and freeze it right there to live in that precious moment the rest of her life. But that wasn't going to happen; no, this was going to be their last time together where they don't kill one another with their insults. They would have to go back to hating each other…but could she do that, after those few brief 'dates'? It was pure Heaven she had to admit. And God, would it be hard for her to just get up and forget!

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when Draco stopped in a parking lot and turned off the engine. "Come on," he said and exited the car, the Gryffindor doing the same. Closing the door, she noticed that they were right by a Denny's restaurant. Draco started striding its way and so she followed like a lost puppy. They entered and were immediately seated in a booth at the back. They were given two menus and then left alone to pick their choosing. Hermione started flipping through the little booklet, but Draco only starred at her, making her feel uncomfortable and finally look up at him. "So," he spoke, "this is the end, I guess."

"Wow," the Gryffindor snapped, "nice way to put it." Hurt and anger filled her eyes, like a captured animal. "Is that all you wanted to say, Malfoy? That all we had was a fling and that now that you got the filthy mudblood to kiss you you're ready to move on with your life and go back to your damned Death Eater pals? Well, fine then. Just leave. There was really no need to come out here and tell me this—"

"Damn it, Hermione, that's not what I meant!" Draco cried in anguish. "I mean, yeah it is, but only half! Believe it or not, I'm not that much of a bastard as you think." The girl on the opposite side of the booth didn't say a word, only looked absently down at the menus, her arms resting on her lap. With her hair hanging limply over her shoulders the way she usually wore it and the baggy T-shirt covering up her beautiful form, Draco couldn't help but think she looked hotter than yesterday, probably because this was their last time…

Sniffing, she nodded and looked up into his one-of-a-kind eyes that now set her off. "Alright…please continue. And I'm sorry."

Draco nodded too, mumbling a, "No problem." Clearing his throat, he started again. "Narcissa and I, we came here because…well, just because we could. I guess we were looking for something new, something that we'd never think about with Father there to tell us no." Once more their eyes meet, Draco quickly looking away. "You've read the Daily Prophet, right? The article about my father escaping Azkaban? Well, that's why I can't stay here anymore, Hermione—Narcissa and I need to get back to the Wizarding World before he comes here and finds us; it'd be Hell if Lucius found out we were here just because."

The girl shifted restlessly in her seat. "So, you're telling me that you don't want to go back to him?"

"Yeah. You don't know what it's like living with him, being forced to join the Dark Lord…" Hermione literately started cracking up, a booming laugh out of nowhere; Draco's eyes widened in alarm. "Are—are you there, Herm? What's so funny!"

Hermione finally calmed down enough to where it was just small burst of giggles slipping off her lips. "I'm sorry, Draco—but it sounded like you said you were forced to join the Dark Side! I mean come on, it's your will, your choice! No fucking father can make you join a side on war."

Draco frowned, the corner of his mouth twitching in frustration. "Actually," he growled, causing Hermione to instantly stop giggling, "I didn't have a choice. My father is one of the most powerful Death Eaters the Dark Lord has—do you really think that I could stand up to him? Would you? No! Because you wouldn't survive if you opposed him. I didn't have a chance against him, all right? And you know it." Tears were beginning to fill the corners of Draco's eyes but he quickly batted them away, blinking several times. "Both my mum and me were so happy to have him in jail—we were finally free. It was Heaven…but now we have to go back to Hell. The last thing I suspected was for Lucius to escape from Azkaban. But then again, I guess it doesn't surprise me, seeing as the Dementors are followers of the Dark Lord…"

An uncomfortable silence fell about them for the millionth time. Clearing her throat, Hermione finally squeaked, "You're right." Draco blinked at her. What? "You're right, this is the end. And as well should be. This isn't right—this is too weird to actually be true."

"Hermione, what are you talking about—?"

"It's not Hermione anymore, remember?" she spat, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm Granger, and you are Malfoy." A sick laugh rolled off her lips. "How stupid I was, to think that I could possibly like a Malfoy! A Malfoy, for God's sake! And you—what were you even thinking! Sure, I can understand me acting in such away; my love life sucks, and I guess I was just looking for some entertainment. But you, I just don't get it! A pureblood with girls hanging off him and money over flowing his wallet decides he wants to mysteriously start hang out with a filthy mudblood who's known to be the ugly bookworm and is indeed his arch enemy's best friend."

"Okay, now wait a minute!" Draco's voice raised a notch, causing the hair on Hermione's arms to rise. "So you still think I'm a jack ass, huh? Well…damn…I don't know!" He banged his head on the table, causing the salt- and peppershakers to bounce once and topple on their sides, spilling some of their contents. Out of natural reflex, Hermione stood the shakers up again and swept the mess off the ground with her hand and let it drop to the floor. "Sorry," he mumbled, head still on the table, his sexy blonde hair the only thing visible to Hermione. "It's just that I…damn it…I don't know…"

"It's okay, it's fine," the Gryffindor said quickly, before he could go and do that little charade once more. "Listen, I'm not really in the mood for this, urm, Malfoy. I understand, okay? We don't have to explain anything; we can just for get everything, right! I mean, tomorrow I'll probably just wake up like usual and think it was a bad dream!" She intended it as a joke, but Draco frowned. "Look, let's just forget it. Can you take me home now then? I'd kinda like to rest a little bit, get this whole nasty thing off my back and all—"

"Is that what you think of it?" Draco asked, somewhat between hurt and amused. "Nasty and a bad dream?" He was about to say that he didn't think it either one, but quickly caught her eye. Oh, the boy thought, now understanding, she's already starting to go back to normal… Even though the Slytherin was cringing inside, he nodded. "You know what, you're right. Okay, I'll bring ya home. Sure you don't want to eat something first? I've got some money on me."

"No, no. I'm fine, thank you. I'll just have an ego when I get home." She smiled a nervous smile and stood up, Draco doing the same. "Well then, how about on the way back to drop me off, we go over the rules on what we'll do if we see each other with our friends around." The 17-year-old boy agreed.

When they were passing by the counter, the woman who sat everyone made an awkward coughing sound, making the two turn around towards her. "Urm, sorry, but have you guys already eaten yet? I don't remember ever remember receiving an order for you…"

Draco grinned and reached into his back pocket where he pulled out his wallet. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that—I thought we were gonna have breakfast while talking but I guess that turned around, huh?" He chuckled softly and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Again, sorry that we took up space here—I hope that can make up for it."

The cashier looked shock and nodded her head vigorously, clutching the money tightly in her hand. "Y—yes, sir. Thank you very much and have a wonderful day, the both of you."

"Thanks, ma'am, and same to you." He flashed a heart-melting smile—one that Hermione would miss dearly—and exited the Denny's restaurant, Hermione right behind him. They got into the mustang once more, Draco starting it up and pulling out of the parking lot and in to the highway. After a few moments of quiet, Draco said, "Are you gonna start about these "rules" or what, Granger? We don't have much time 'cause I've got to get back to my hotel and leave soon.

"Um, sure," Hermione squeaked. "So, uh, we should probably try to avoid each other as best we can," she countered.

"Well, duh! Kinda figured that out on my own, thanks, Captain Obvious."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this; for some reason she was beginning to love the rude sense of humor that she'd hated only a month ago. "But now we've got to figure out what we'll do if we're caught up with each other again, if your group and mine start a fight or something like that."

Draco snorted. "Here's an idea: we just totally don't let this get in the way. Like you said, we'll wake up and think it's a bad nightmare. End of story, okay? There's no reason we should be acting like it's some sort of crime we're covering up."

Blinking, the brown head asked, "Will you be able to do that?"

"Do what?" he said, oblivious to the question.

"You know, forget that this whole ordeal happened." Truthfully she wasn't sure if she'd be able to. That kiss…she couldn't get it out of her head! "Would you be able to do that?"

A pause filled the car for a second, Hermione hoping against hope that he'd say no. Then his answer came out dry: "Yes."

"Oh." She felt her jaw go lower than before, if that was possible, but then just as quickly brought it up. "Okay, then I think I can too. So we'll totally just forget about this, right? Then there's no problem and our friends don't have to suspicious or anything. "Well then…I thought we'd put up more boundaries, but your simple one rule seems to cover it all, doesn't it?"

He flashed her a smirk. "I can be pretty brilliant when I want to be." There was once more silence in the car (A/N: dude, have you realized that it's always an awkward silence in the car, nowhere else? Lol) and that's how it went on till they reached her house. The two sat there, not knowing what to do next.

"So…" Hermione broke the quiet, clearing her throat. "Well, I guess this is the end, isn't it."

"Yeah." Then she felt a cool, soft hand cup her cheek; turning around, Hermione locked eyes with Draco. "See ya later, then," he muttered, and his lips captured hers in a passionate, sweet kiss. It wasn't like the one from last night, but gentle and loving, heart-warming. All too soon it was over, and they stayed close to one another, catching their breath.

The Gryffindor gave a small chuckle and said, "Hey, Draco?" A grunt. Next thing he knows her hand comes smacking across his face, stinking his right side.

"WHAT THE BLOODLY HELL WAS THAT!" he growled angrily, clutching his cheek that was quickly blotching red from the impact.

Still Hermione only giggled and opened the door. Stepping out, she whispered barely automobile, "That's what ya get, Ferret. Don't even think about doing that again." And then she was off, shutting the door behind her and bounding up the stairs to her house, never looking back.

When she entered the house and closed the front door behind her, Draco leaned back in his seat, grinning despite the pain. She had spunk to her that he found hard to resist. He rested like that for a moment or two, not wanting to go back to the suite. But he knew he had to so he started back up towards it, bracing himself to enter Hell once again.

Author's Note: So! What do you think! Yeah, I know that I suck for spliting them up Don'tcha just hate me! lol! But do you really think that they're really gonna stay like that? I mean, it's a romance story! What would I be to leave it alone like that! God, am I really that bad! lol.

I love y'alls!Please review!Muah!

Peasant