DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I also don't own Full House or any of its characters. Heck, I don't own anything except for the clothes I'm wearing, so I'm begging you, please don't sue me.
A/N: Yes, I finished this quickly so as not to keep you hanging. I'm not getting a lot of reviews but hell! I'm writing for the fun of it. By the time this story is finished, they'll realize what they've missed. Heh heh.
Chapter 4: The Agreement
And there she goes.
Draco watched behind the curtains of the living room as Hermione and her cat set off, looking like the homeless rejects that they are. He couldn't believe that he's actually feeling sorry for the girl. Well, it wasn't her fault that she lost her house. But she's supposed to be smart, so why didn't she find a way to make it hers again? If insulting Draco and annoying him to no end was the only tactic she could think of, Hermione Granger's losing her touch.
Sighing, he walked towards the kitchen. Now that Hermione was out of his hair, he actually remembered that he had been hungry and as of this moment deeply craved for some pasta. He opened the fridge to see if he had any. His eyes spotted the left-overs of the fruits Hermione had eaten. He picked up an orange peel and he couldn't help but smile. He wasn't aware that Hermione could eat that much; but of course, the girl would've been starving. He gathered all the rinds in the refrigerator and dumped them in the bin. He opened the cabinet containing the cook books and found them perfectly arranged. He glanced at the dishwasher and was satisfied to see that the plates and bowls were neatly stacked inside.
Granger is good at cleaning, he thought, with a stab of guilt.
He closed the cabinet, went back to the living room and sat on the armchair littered with strands of Crookshanks' fur. His hunger had suddenly gone when he thought of Hermione. She had probably boarded a bus already, heading for God knows where. Or she had probably owled Potter to come pick her up. Or she'd already met a nice, charming guy offering her a ride.
Or she's sitting at a bus stop, and as of this moment, is crying her heart out over the loss of her house.
Draco felt another stab of guilt. He buried his face in his hands.
For Merlin's sake, Draco, suck it up, he told himself. Nothing's going to happen to Granger, and if something will, it's not your fault.
He told himself that he wasn't really concerned about the girl. That he couldn't care less. But something told him otherwise. Not that he'd gotten soft over the years, but Draco happened to know Hermione Granger; not that personally of course, unless you consider teasing and name-calling bonding time. And it's been years, they're not kids anymore; their grudge had taken too long. Besides, Hermione was probably telling the truth, that she didn't have anywhere to go. It would be hard for a bushy-haired bookworm like her to make a thousand friends. Draco wouldn't be surprised if her cat was the closest thing she had for company.
Draco bit his lip. He knew what he had to do next. He just hoped he won't regret it.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Lightning struck. The wind blew fiercely on the tree tops and the sky darkened. It was going to rain.
Hermione wasn't paying much attention to the weather, however. She was busy thinking about where she was going to live. She was sitting under the waiting shed of the bus stop, bags on the cement and Crookshanks in her arms, crying from desperation. Hermione, Hogwarts' famous know-it-all, was out of ideas. It took her only a few minutes to realize that. She had no money and no house. The only thing that she could probably do was go into welfare, like a homeless beggar. But she vehemently refused to be a dependent. She thought higher of herself than that. Thoughts of Harry and Ron began to fill her mind. She wondered if they were happy, wondered what they were up to at that very moment and sincerely hoped that they were not going through the same ordeal as her. For a second, she considered returning to Wizarding London and asking for their help, but Hermione had sworn that after the War, she would have nothing to do with them ever again. Her choice to distance herself was not merely caused by her parents' tragic deaths, but by the feeling of tiredness she always felt when she remembered her life as a Witch. To her, the troubles and the heartaches there seemed like a vicious, never ending cycle, and if she wanted to get out of it, she had to forget. That was why she left. Just after attending her two best friends' weddings, she packed her bags, sent a few short letters of thanks and goodbye, and went home to Muggle London. There were times that she felt that pang of losing her friends, and every time, she forced herself to not dwell on it and used the same line of thinking she had with regards to her parents; she pretended that Harry and Ron were also on vacation, living in some far away land with no post, no computers for email and no telephones. Pretending barely comforted her, but there was no other way.
So now, she had no options left. She had to stick it out, come what may.
"This is it, Crookshanks, say goodbye to the neighborhood,"
At that moment, a bus stopped right in front of Hermione and a couple of people got out. The red-headed conductor emerged from the door.
"Ain't you boardin', miss?" he said to Hermione.
Hermione had gathered her bags from the ground and had already walked toward the bus, but stopped. Her mind wanted her to get into the vehicle but her feet were planted on the ground.
"We ain't got awl day, miss," the conductor added, scratching his nose.
Hermione sighed and looked back at the neighborhood. She felt like she couldn't leave it.
"I-I think I'll just wait for another...another bus," she said feebly, ashamed at making the bus wait.
The conductor shook his head. "Suit yerself."
And with that, the doors automatically closed and with a hiss, the bus took off.
Hermione let go of her bags and went back to moping. She looked at her shoes (strappy yellow stilettos) and saw that it was nearly destroyed.
"Oh no! My favorite shoes!"
"I didn't know you wore stilettos,"
The voice made Hermione snap her head up so fast she almost broke her neck. In front of her was Draco, inside a beautiful silver car, window down and handsome face grinning at her. Hermione's eyes narrowed instantly.
"Malfoy?"
"The one and only,"
"What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like?"
Hermione blinked. His intention was beyond her.
"I don't know."
Draco laughed. "Boy, you're getting slower everyday."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, "If you have nothing better to do than insult me, get out of my sight,"
"No need for such cruelty, Granger. I'm here to save the day."
"What did you say?"
Draco beckoned to her. "Hop in,"
Hermione was flabbergasted. "Are you offering me a ride?"
"Yes,"
"And why would you do that?"
Draco sighed. "Quit the questions, Granger. Get in,"
Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "I am not getting into a vehicle with you,"
"Please, Granger. I'm not interested in you,"
"Excuse me?" said Hermione, her cheeks burning, "You are the rudest, most arrogant person I have ever met!"
Draco exhaled. "Just get in, Granger. I know you want to. Your arms are tired, your feet are sore and your shoes are about to give out,"
"What do you care?"
"Well yes, I don't, but I'm going to give you an offer you can't refuse,"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going?"
"You ask a lot of question, don't you? We're going back to our house--- I mean my house," replied Draco. He looked Hermione straight in the eye. "I'm giving you ten seconds to get into this car, Granger,"
Hermione bit her lip. She didn't trust Draco and probably never will but she had to admit that she was curious. She found no reason to make Draco set a trap on her; he had everything and she had nothing. In short, there was nothing for her to lose. Hermione looked down at Crookshanks, who was sitting at her feet and giving her a glare that said "Stop thinking and get in; I'm hungry!"
"Five seconds, Granger," reminded Draco, revving up the engine.
Hermione rolled her eyes and bent down to get her bags. "Aren't you going to help me?"
Draco took one look at the heavy bags and the bedraggled Hermione and said, "Nah,"
With gritted teeth, she got her things to the back of the car, and had just lifted up Crookshanks when Draco spoke again.
"Couldn't you leave the cat?" he asked, with a little too much desperation.
Crookshanks hissed at him.
"Nope," Hermione answered simply as she walked to the other side of the car. "Wherever I go, my cat goes with me,"
"But the whole house is carpeted!"
Hermione opened the door and got in. "Shut up and drive,"
And they were off.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Inside the car, Hermione carefully watched Draco.
"What?" he asked, probably annoyed at what Hermione was doing.
"I didn't know you could drive," she observed.
"Yeah well, there are many things I could do that you don't know about," Draco said smugly. Hermione decided not to dwell on his statement and spoke once more.
"I mean, you're a Malfoy and I know for a fact that you and your father just hate Muggles. And now I see you living in a Muggle neighborhood driving a Muggle car. What's up with that?"
"We merged with a Muggle company and I was asked by my father to manage it for him," replied Draco, as they turned a corner. "That's why I'm here. Enough explanation for you?"
"For now,"
But even after that, Hermione kept staring at Draco and this time, she had a nasty smile on her face.
"What are you smiling for?"
"Oh nothing," Hermione answered sweetly.
Draco looked at her. "I already told you you're a bad liar, so spit it out,"
"You think you could fool me, didn't you?"
"What?"
Hermione leaned closer. "You really don't know how to drive, don't you?"
Draco fought hard not to blush. "Of course I do, what are you talking about?" But his voice shook a little when he said it.
"Well, first of all, you don't use the gearshift,"
Draco wanted to blurt out "What's that?" but that would blow his cover. Instead he said, "Yes I do,"
"Oh really? Then go on, shift gears,"
Draco gritted his teeth. He had no clue as to what Hermione wanted him to do. He looked at the steering wheel, saw a little button on the side and pressed it without even thinking. Two thin rods began to move back and forth in front of him.
"What the--"
Hermione was laughing beside him, clutching at a stitch on her side.
"Shut up, Granger," admonished Draco, a pink tint coloring his cheeks.
Hermione tried to speak in between the laughs. "Th-those a-are wipers!"
"Wipers? What are they for?"
Draco wasn't able to stop himself. Hermione laughed harder. Draco was irritated; he gave a reason for Hermione to make fun of him. He wouldn't hear the end of this.
He kept his eyes straight on the road and remained quiet. Hermione's laughs had by then subsided. But the flush on Hermione's cheeks told him she was still pretty amused.
"Hey," she called out to him, "Hey, Malfoy! Are you pissed off already?"
"No,"
"Don't be; you're just too funny. Acting like a big bad driver and all that: 'Hey lookie girls, I know how to drive a Porsche!'" Hermione started sniggering again.
"Shut up, Granger or I'll kick you out of the car,"
Hermione suppressed her glee. "Okay, okay. Hey, do you want to know what wipers are for?"
Draco didn't speak, but Hermione continued.
"Wipers wipe. That's why they're called wipers. When it's raining, they keep the water from blurring the driver's line of sight," she explained, evidently glad that she knew something Draco didn't. "And the gearshift is this little rod here," she continued, pointing at the gear lever on the floor between them. "You use it to make the car go faster, slower or backwards. And the steering wheel, that round thing you're holding, you use to steer the car, you know turn from left to right---"
"I know that, Granger," Draco said finally. "I'm not that stupid,"
"Of course you're not,"
"Stop mocking me. Remember, I call the shots here. I have what you need, and you're not going to get anything good from me if you don't behave."
They had reached the house and both of them got out of the car.
"What exactly did you mean by that?" asked Hermione, as she started to haul her things out from Draco's car. Draco merely watched her, leaning casually on his vehicle.
"You said you had nowhere to go, right?" said Draco, "And the only thing you have in this world, aside from that disgusting cat, is this house. Am I right?"
"Yes,"
Draco checked his nails. "Well then, as you know, I've never been the philanthropist, in fact, I'm really quite the opposite and I don't do good deeds not unless I can get something from them,"
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Your point is?"
"My point is, I'm letting you live in this house... on one condition,"
Hermione's heart jumped. Malfoys were known for cutting deals that seem okay at first but you end up regretting later. But as she looked up at her house, she knew that she was ready to do anything Malfoy says just to keep living in it.
She fixed Draco a cautious gaze. He was staring at her with a triumphant one. She had to admit that things didn't look good for her, but the way things were, things could probably not get any worse.
"C'mon, Granger, I'm offering you free food and lodging here... well, not exactly free..." Draco gave her a mischievous grin.
"What's the condition?" asked Hermione, dreading the answer.
Draco was smiling widely now, and his eyes casually went over Hermione from head to toe.
"I just need your body."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"I HATE YOU MALFOY!" Hermione yelled.
It was very early the next morning and Hermione Granger was in the middle of the posh living room, with a wet rag on one hand and a vacuum on the other. The entire living room was a mess; bags of chips littered the table, together with empty beer cans. Crumbs of bread and God-knows-what-else were sticking on the expensive carpet. One armchair was stained with red wine; and the windows looked like eggs were thrown at them. Hermione very much wanted to throw a full blown tantrum.
She and Draco had already agreed on how she would "repay" Draco for her stay in the house; though saying "I just need you body" wasn't exactly clear for Hermione. Draco elaborated further, telling her that the condition was to become his maid: clean the whole house, keep the yard, cook his food, the works. Hermione had already assented, knowing that it was going to be easy for her since she was a neat freak. But it turns out that there was still a catch: Draco prohibited Hermione from using magic when doing her chores. She was to do it manually. Hermione could not get out of it, of course, since her "yes" binded the agreement. Now, she was thoroughly convinced that Draco intended on killing her. He ordered her to wake up at five o'clock everyday and keep working until seven o'clock at night. If she had other things to do, she was to let Draco know about them and she should make sure that she would finish all the chores without fail. He also reiterated that Hermione's wasn't allowed to use magic when she's working and assured her that he will know if she did. And if he caught her, he would kick her out of the house. If that wasn't enough, Draco, with the use of magic, made the bed on her room disappear; he also took the lamps, the dresser, the carpet and the paintings; leaving only the closet and a lot of bare space. He said that Hermione should buy those things on her own and forced her to sleep on a spare mattress he kindly gave her. She had wanted to strangle Draco the moment she saw the almost-empty room, but she thought that it was way better than lying on cold, hard gravel. So she slept on it; not comfortably, of course.
As for Crookshanks, Draco ordered for him to remain in Hermione's room. He was not allowed to wander in the halls, in the living room and any place with carpeting. If he wanted to poop, Hermione should take him out to another yard. If Draco found even a little bit of dung on his yard, he threatened to pull out all of Crookshanks' fur with his bare hands. He so hated the cat that at first, he said that Crookshanks should not be fed with cat food but with grass. Hermione argued vehemently of course, saying that she'd rather be homeless than starve her cat. In the end, Draco relented, but not without revenge.
And so it came in the form of the chaotic living room. Hermione had awoken early that morning only to find that Draco wanted her hands to get blistered on the first day. Hence, the reason for Hermione's loud retaliation.
Hermione continued to vacuum the carpet as best she could. In fact, she took out the more stubborn bits by hand and threw them in the bin. She had been cleaning for nearly two hours already and her back was aching. Her knees were rubbed and raw from kneeling, and her hair (though pulled from her face by a bandana) was knottier than ever. Her stomach grumbled for she had not eaten breakfast. She had already prepared Draco's breakfast, though, and because she cooked it a good one hour ago, it had probably turned cold, giving her another reason to hate him for sleeping in late.
"I hate you Malfoy!" she shouted again, for lack of a better way to vent out her anger.
She heard the sound of footsteps and moments later, the object of her ire came down to the living room, looking dashing in a blue pinstriped suit and black tie. Hermione, on the other hand, was wearing running shorts and an old West Ham football shirt that Dean gave her.
Draco looked at her, smiling, "No shouting in the morning, Granger. I see you're busy with work; that's good,"
"Screw you, Malfoy," spat Hermione. Draco merely smirked at her.
"Yes, good morning to you, too. Have a nice day!"
He made his way to the sliding doors and pushed them aside.
"Wait!" called Hermione. "You're leaving?"
"Why, missing me already?"
"B-but aren't you eating breakfast?"
Draco pretended to think about it. "Erm... No."
Hermione was outraged. "But I already prepared your breakfast!"
"Too bad, then. Maybe you could eat it; you look like you need it,"
And with a small wave, he was out and the sliding doors closed behind him. Lucky for him, the candleholder Hermione threw at him came a second late.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Draco! How delightful to see you!" Pansy Parkinson exclaimed as Draco entered her boutique in Wizarding London.
The boutique looked elegant and very haute couture. The walls were painted shimmering white and the floors were of white marble. Designer robes that Pansy made were everywhere. Pansy herself, wearing a flowy aquamarine robe with an intricately designed bodice underneath, was entertaining a customer. But when Draco entered the room, she left the customer with no second thoughts.
"How have you been?" asked Pansy, pulling Draco into a hug.
"Great, great. You look beautiful, Pansy,"
Pansy smiled. "Always the flatterer, aren't you, Draco,"
"I do my best," said Draco, smiling back.
"So, how is the house? Come, sit," she motioned Draco to take a seat on a high-backed purple armchair, and then sitting on another one after Draco had sat. "I do hope you find the place suitable. Living with Muggles is uncomfortable, I presume?'
"No, no, everything's fine-- except for the presence of Hermione Granger---"
Pansy gasped. "Hermione Granger? The Hermione Granger from Hogwarts?"
"Yes, her."
"Why I haven't seen that girl for years! Is she living in the same neighborhood as yours?"
Draco nodded. "Much more than that; it seems that I bought her house,"
"You what?"
"The house that I bought was hers, she said, and was sold without her permission---"
Pansy furrowed her brow. "How could that happen?"
"Apparently, her new Muggle friends are a tad more idiotic than Potter and Weasley,"
"And you're going to have to move out again, I suppose,"
"No," said Draco, shaking his head, "We've already reached an…. agreement,"
"I see," said Pansy, smoothing the creases of her robe. "And what kind of agreement was that?"
Draco shrugged. "Oh, nothing important. Besides, I didn't go here to talk about Hermione Granger,"
"Really?" Pansy smiled. "Then what is the real purpose of your visit?"
"I was wondering if you were... available. Tonight. I'd like to... take you out for dinner," said Draco, slightly bowing his head and looking everywhere except at Pansy's face.
Noticing Draco's hesitation, Pansy laughed. "Draco, there is no need to be uneasy. You act like we're not friends. Of course, I accept your invitation. Tonight is perfect,"
Draco smiled. "Great. Really great. I'll pick you up then, about seven?"
"Yes, please. I'll be waiting for you, then."
"Oh yeah, by the way, I wanted to give you something,"
Draco handed her the paper bag he was carrying. She took it eagerly and extracted a box from it. The front of the box read "Motorola Razr".
"What is it?" asked Pansy, opening the box and lifting the gadget inside it.
"It's a cellular phone," explained Draco. "It's a Muggle communication device, their version of owl post and floo..."
"I see," said Pansy, thoroughly intrigued by the thing. "It looks very... mechanical,"
"Well, yes, I suppose it does. I have another one just like that. I gave it to you so you could call me anytime; so we could stay connected even though I'm in Muggle London,"
"Oh how sweet of you, Draco," crooned Pansy, giving Draco a peck on the cheek. "But I'm afraid I don't know how to use it,"
"Well, you should read the manual first," said Draco, pointing at the small book enclosed in the box. "It will teach you how to use it,"
"Oh yes. Thank you, Draco. It's a wonderful gift!"
"No problem. So... I'll see later?"
"Of course. I'm already looking forward to it."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
A few minutes later, inside the Nibelung Jewelry shop, Draco was busily looking at the rings on the display counter. A man with extremely poufy hair was waiting on him.
"How about that one?" said Draco, pointing at a ring.
The man took it out eagerly. "Good choice, sir. Princess-cut pink diamond, very rare; polished white gold band, very elegant,"
Draco grimaced. "How about that other one,"
"This one sir, has an oval amethyst at the center, surrounded by eight round diamonds, nice thin gold band..."
"No no... I want something simple, but exquisite,"
"Ah! I assume you are looking for an engagement ring---"
"Are you stupid? I've been standing here for fifteen minutes and only now you realize I'm looking for an engagement ring?" said Draco, his agitation becoming anger.
"Sorry, sir," the man mumbled.
"Give me something made of platinum,"
"Right away, sir," replied the man and at once, busied himself in finding a ring that Draco might want.
Waiting was harder for Draco's nerves. He was not entirely sure of what he was actually getting himself into. He had no idea on how to do things like choosing a ring and planning an engagement proposal. He would very much have wanted it if someone did it for him. Unfortunately, there was no one. And if he didn't get this over with that night, his father was going to ruin it for him. He wasn't going to let his father interfere with his personal life. He'd rather propose to Pansy alone than if front of a hundred people.
The man faced him again, looking as though he had discovered a treasure chest.
"Here it is, sir." He presented the ring to Draco and he looked at it.
It was indeed a simple ring. It had a heart-shaped diamond at the center and two smaller round ones at each side, set in a shiny platinum band. After some minutes, Draco decided to buy it. When he emerged from the shop, the ring was safely inside his pocket.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
He told them he wanted candles. Lots of them; tall ones and short ones, floating ones and those on holders. He wanted privacy, so they closed down the restaurant and the entire place was only for both of them. He said he wanted the ring to be hidden in the dessert. In the middle of the black forest parfait glass.
They granted his every wish, and so the place, Le Maison de L'Amour, was set by six thirty. A little more than thirty minutes later, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, their only customers for the evening, arrived. The maitre d' took them to their table at the very center of the restaurant.
Pansy had quickly noticed the emptiness of the place and voiced this out to Draco.
"Draco, why aren't there other people?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps they're eating at another place for tonight,"
"And there is an awful lot of candles..."
"To create ambiance, probably,"
They reached the table and were seated. The maitre d' handed them the menus.
"Oh, I'd love some pecan pie for dessert---"
"No," Draco said quickly. "I, uh, I heard that their black forest parfait tastes better and it has, uh, less calories,"
Pansy nodded. "I see. Yes, I think I'd like to try that for a change,"
"The first course will be served after ten minutes, sir," said the maitre d' and bowed out, leaving Draco and Pansy to talk alone.
Or so they think.
Someone was peeping behind the wine bar. After watching the couple converse for a few minutes, she ran to the back room, where five other people, including the maitre d', were gossiping noisily.
"So? Is she pretty?" said one girl with a crooked nose.
"Oh Merlin, she is gorgeous!" squealed the pony-tailed girl who hid behind the bar. All of them laughed.
"I cannot believe that Draco Malfoy is proposing," said another girl, "I fancied him for such a long time!"
"Well, I say the two make a beautiful couple," interjected the maitre d', "A match made in heaven!"
"Where's the ring?" asked the girl with the ponytail.
"Here it is!"
All the girls shrieked as loudly as they could without being heard outside.
"It's so beautiful!"
"I bet it's very expensive--"
"Of course it is! He's a Malfoy; he's not going to buy a cheap engagement ring--"
"I wonder how much this cost,"
"Ooh! Let's take a picture!" said the guy wearing an apron (the cook) and he brought out a camera. The girl with the ponytail eagerly wore the ring and posed for her friends as the cook snapped away.
The din they were making did not reach Draco and Pansy's ears, however, and what was happening in there was unbeknownst to them. They continued talking and laughing.
"So what's the occasion, Draco?" asked Pansy.
Draco smiled. "No occasion. I just wanted to treat you,"
"Really? How thoughtful of you,"
"And I... I also want to tell you something..."
Pansy's eyes widened. "Tell me!"
"Erm... maybe later; during dessert..."
"No! Tell me now!"
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "I really think we should wait till dessert,"
Pansy pouted, pretending to be angry. "You play with me, Draco... come on, you know I can't wait till dessert..."
"Now you have to," replied Draco with a smile.
The first course of the meal arrived shortly and Draco was able to divert the topic to something more trivial. Pansy went along but had that glint in her eye that told him she still remembered. They were almost finished with the meat course, just before dessert when Pansy brought up the topic again.
"You made me wait long enough, Draco. Now, tell me what you have to tell me," she urged.
Draco shook his head and kept slicing his steak. "It's not yet dessert,"
"But why does it have to be dessert? Why can't you tell me now? What is it about anyway?"
"You'll find out later,"
Pansy sighed. "Fine." She put down her knife and fork, reached out for her purse and opened it. "What time is it?"
Draco looked up from his plate. "I don't know. Is something the matter?"
"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Pansy, looking at her pocket watch. "It's nearly nine o'clock!"
"So?"
"I have to meet Blaise,"
Draco's utensils fell from his hands from surprise. "What? Why?"
"He went by the shop right after you left, and he asked me to meet him--"
"But you already agreed to meet me!"
"Yes, but I didn't think it would take so long," explained Pansy hurriedly. "I also committed to him, Draco, and I must not break it,"
The sound of the word 'committed' brought color to Draco's cheeks.
"No, wait, don't go--"
"I'm sorry, Draco, but I have to," said Pansy, already halfway up from her chair.
Draco reached out for her hand, pleading. "Please just... just stay until dessert and then you can go. It'll be quick, I promise--"
"I'm sorry, Draco," Pansy repeated. "Maybe next time."
And then getting her coat from the back of the chair, she stood up and left. Twenty seconds later, dessert was served. Draco stared at the black forest parfait and then bolted from his chair and ran after Pansy. it was a good thing that Pansy wasn't a fast walker and Draco was able to catch up with her a few paces from the door of the restaurant.
"Pansy!" Draco called, grabbing her arm violently.
Pansy was startled by the force with which Draco pulled her to him. "Draco, what--"
"Don't go to him," said Draco fiercely.
"What? Let me go, Draco--"
"No. You're going back to the restaurant and you will sit there and talk to me until I tell you to leave!"
The look in Draco's eyes frightened Pansy and she struggled to free her arm.
"I said let me go, Draco! You're hurting me!"
Draco held her for another minute and let her go. He looked so angry.
Draco was indeed angry. Blaise was not going to ruin this night for him; Pansy was his and he would not get her from him without a fight. He pulled at his tie to loosen it. The anger he felt made it hard for him to breathe.
He tried to coax Pansy again.
"Pansy, don't go to him,"
"Draco, you are being unreasonable--"
"No! He's unreasonable!" shouted Draco. "You're with me and he couldn't understand that!"
Pansy's temper was also rising. "What are you talking about, Draco? Stop acting like a child!"
"Me? Look who's running to Blaise without thinking about---"
"About what, Draco?"
Draco gritted his teeth. "Tell me, do you like him? Do you like him, Pansy?"
"Yes, I like him!" yelled Pansy. "And if he needs me, I will be there for him no matter what!"
Draco felt like his heart had stopped beating. He was speechless. All he could do was look into Pansy's eyes and see the truth in her words.
"Draco, please," Pansy spoke again, reaching out to touch Draco's arm. "Let me go to him. We could--- we could do this again another time---"
Draco knew he had been beaten. It would be useless to keep Pansy for himself. She was too strong a woman; whatever she wanted to do, she did. He can never stop her. Draco pulled away from her touch.
"Yeah. Sure. Next time." he said, more to himself than to Pansy.
Pansy kept staring at him guiltily. "Don't be angry, Draco, please. We could dine out again, right? Right? Maybe then you could tell me what you wanted to tell me,"
Draco gave short laugh. "Yeah, right."
"I'll just keep in touch... I'll call you on the bell phone--"
"Cell phone," corrected Draco.
"Yes, that's it." Pansy smiled. "But now, I have to go. He's... he's waiting for me,"
Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah, he probably is..."
"I'm really sorry. I enjoyed the dinner, though. Call me when you get home, okay? Thanks again, Draco."
After a quick wave and a smile, Pansy disapparated, along with the hope in Draco's heart, leaving him standing alone on the dark street outside Le Maison de L'Amour.
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"Foul...stupid...arrogant...ferret!" muttered Hermione as she scrubbed the book shelves vigorously with a wet rag.
It was another day of cleaning at the Full House. She had just finished vacuuming the carpeted floors, wiping the windows and dusting the vases and little sculptures when a scowling Draco came downstairs and demanded his breakfast. Hermione, who had learned her lesson from the previous day, did not cook any, expecting that Draco would get his breakfast somewhere else. So now that he demanded his food, Hermione could not give him any. Hence, another fight ensued.
"I should throw you out, you good-for-nothing bushy-haired know-it-all!" yelled Draco.
"Oh really? So now it's my fault that you're such a forgetful, arrogant ferret? Well, I say you deserve to starve to death!" yelled Hermione.
"Mudblood!"
"Death-eater!"
And so on and so forth. Their verbal swordfight went on until Draco threw a vase at her direction and ordered her to cook at that moment or her cat will get it. Hermione, who had fortunately ducked, was forced to obey. But the fight did not end there. Draco had insulted Hermione's cooking, too.
"What is this muck?" he said, spooning his soup.
"It's crab and corn, Mr. Almighty!" snapped Hermione.
"This looks like watery snake venom!"
"I wish it were so you would be poisoned to death!"
"Are you trying to kill me?" yelled Draco. "I'm not going to eat this!" And then he dumped the contents of the bowl over the dining table. "Cook something else!"
Hermione was enraged and her fingers itched to grab Draco's neck and squeeze until he turns blue. "How dare you insult my cooking? You don't even know the difference between a gourd and a radish and you act like it's so easy to do it!"
"Of course I know the difference between a gourd and a radish!"
"Oh yeah, like you know the difference between headlights and side mirrors!"
"Shut up and stop changing the topic! If I say cook, COOK!"
Once again, Hermione was forced to cook something else: porridge. The moment she had ladled some into a bowl and banged it down on the table in front of Draco, she left the kitchen and resumed her cleaning. She thought Draco had liked it because he didn't say anything when she left. But after he finished eating, he went to the living room, wand out and before Hermione could react, made cobwebs appear all over the place, even the ceiling. After a word ("Clean!"), he went into the back yard, sat on the wooden swing and began to read a magazine.
Hermione was left to do everything all over again. And so the line:
"Foul...stupid...arrogant...ferret!"
Hermione had just finished scrubbing the highest shelf when she glanced at the huge glass windows and saw an owl swoop towards their direction. She looked at Draco; but he seemed engrossed at what he was reading and did not notice the bird. The owl had by then entered an open window and landed on the coat hanger near the stairs. Hermione hurriedly approached it. The bird had a letter tied to its leg. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, wondering if it was from Harry or Ron.
I wonder what it's about, she thought, as she started untying the cord that bound the letter to the owl's foot. As soon as she finished, the owl flew away, not even giving Hermione time to give it a pat of thanks.
Hermione looked at the envelope on her hands. It was made of smooth blue paper. She brought it to her nose and found that it was also scented. Flipping the envelope over, she read the words Malfoy Magical Banquet. There was a date and time. Turning it over again, she opened the envelope and pulled out a rectangular piece of white silken paper. It read:
You are invited by Monsieur Lucius Malfoy and Monsieur Draco Malfoy
to the
Malfoy Magical Banquet!
A Night of Wonderful Celebration
Where: Malfoy Manor
When: 20th of August
Attire: Formal Wizarding Wear
We are expecting your presence!
Hermione sighed and without even reconsidering, chucked it down the bin and continued cleaning, once in a while, glancing at the trash can. She didn't retrieve the letter from it, however, not until she had finished taking away all the cobwebs from the furniture and only the webs on the ceiling remained. Wiping her brow, she reached into the bin and pulled the letter out. While cleaning, she had conceived an idea. She thought that the banquet would not entirely be pointless and (though the invitation was probably not for her) it would do her good to attend. Not because she was breaking her sworn promise to return to living as a Witch, but she thought that since the Malfoys were the ones hosting the party, the guests would most probably be the leaders of the business industry; and like what the Malfoys did, have merged with some Muggle companies. Then it was very possible that they were associated with Muggle publishing companies. Thus, her connections would prove to be most fruitful. Her works would finally be published and that would enable her to pay back Draco sooner; she honestly believes that the two of them cannot live under the same roof in peace, even for just a week. With her mind settled, she was about to approach Draco and ask for his permission to go when she spotted a small brown box in the bin. Hesitantly, she bent down and got hold of it.
"What could this be?" she muttered, and chancing a quick glance at Draco to make sure he wasn't watching her, she opened the box and gasped. Inside was a beautiful platinum ring with a heart-shaped diamond at the center and two round diamonds at the side.
"What is it doing in the bin?" she wondered, taking the ring out and holding it out to the sun. After staring at it for a few minutes, she decided to let Draco know about it. With the invitation under one arm and the ring on her hand, she marched outside to where Draco was comfortably sitting.
"Hey Malfoy!"
Draco didn't move from his position and ignored Hermione's voice.
"Malfoy!" she called again. "Hey, Malfoy!"
Draco closed the book with a snap. "What?" he asked, irritated.
Hermione stood in front of him, smiling. "I found something,"
"Your brain?"
Hermione pretended to laugh. "Funny, Draco. No, I found this,"
She held out the small brown box and before Draco's eyes, opened it to reveal the ring he had thrown away.
Draco made a grab for it, but Hermione took it out of his reach. "Where'd you get that?"
"In the bin," Hermione said simply. "Is this yours?"
Draco gritted his teeth. "No. Give it here,"
Hermione walked further backwards. "You said you didn't own it, so why would I give it to you?"
"Just give it here, Granger!" demanded Draco, standing up.
"So it is yours. The design's too girly, don't you think?" she joked.
"I'm not kidding, Granger, I said give it to me!" Draco whipped out his wand.
Hermione raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Keep it easy! What is up with you today? Are you having PMS? Here,"
Hermione pretended to hand out the ring but got it out of Draco's reach at the last second.
"Can I have it?" asked Hermione, a grin on her lips.
"What? Of course not! You don't deserve a ring as expensive as that. Now hand it here!"
"No!"
"What?"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
Impatient and bad-tempered, Draco threw his wand down and lunged at Hermione and struggled to get the ring from her hand. Hermione fought back and kept her hand closed, despite Draco's strong grip. With all the strength he could muster, he pried Hermione's fingers from the ring. Hermione tried to pry Draco's hands off her hand, but Draco was stronger obviously and after much effort and screeching from Hermione, Draco was able to extract the ring from her. Without wasting another second, he flung the ring a good ways away.
Hermione shouted, "What did you do that for, you brainless git!"
Draco, breathing heavily, did not reply and sat back down the swing. She was not going to give up easily, however, and hounded Draco.
"That was an expensive ring! If you didn't want it, then you could've given it to me! You sure know how to waste money, don't you?"
"And what do you know about wasting money when you don't have any?" said Draco coolly.
He watched Hermione stomp her feet in frustration.
"Stop stomping, Granger, you're destroying your little blue envelope," he pointed out, setting his eyes on the grass where the envelope lay under Hermione's feet.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Hermione, quickly bending down to retrieve the envelope. She carelessly wiped it with her shirt.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's that? A letter from Potter?"
"No," replied Hermione, still trying to scrub the grass stains from the envelope. "It's an invitation,"
"Who in their right mind would invite you for anything, Granger?"
Hermione glared at Draco. "You want to know who? You."
Draco laughed. "Me? What are you talking about?"
"Malfoy Magical Banquet," Hermione read from the envelope. "As far as I know, there's only one Malfoy family in existence; thank God,"
Draco's brow furrowed, and then he remembered. "Oh that. That's not for you."
"Well, actually, it doesn't say to whom it is for,"
"So? It's not like the banquet concerns you,"
Hermione smiled at him. "Actually it does. I want to go,"
"You what?" said Draco incredulously. "And why would you do that?"
"So my works would get published,"
"Works?"
"I'm a writer now," explained Hermione, "and I'm looking for publishing companies to publish the stuff I've written,"
"Hermione Granger, a writer; never would've though you had it in you," said Draco sarcastically.
Hermione chose to ignore his comment. "So, can I go?"
Draco flipped open the magazine he was reading. "No,"
"What?"
"No."
"Why?"
Draco sighed. "No reason, I just want to keep you miserable,"
"Aaarrgghh!" said Hermione angrily. "You are the most stuck-up person I have ever met!"
"Insult me for as long as you like, you're still not going,"
"Yeah well, that's what you think!"
Without warning, Hermione kicked the wooden swing, causing Draco to fall from it, to the ground, face first. After making a triumphant "Hmph!" she ran back to the house before Draco could catch her.
"Granger!" Draco called out in pain, clutching his knee. "Come back here!"
But Hermione ignored him, thinking that he deserved the pain he was in. His words were not going to stop her, too. She will go to the banquet and that was it. Screw Draco.
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Next Chapter: The marriage proposal we've all been waiting for!
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A/N: So, it was a bit longer than expected, but that's good, right? I hope I get a lot of reviews for this one…Oh by the way, thanks to all my reviewers! Hugs to you all. To OrgnlAmagic, you'll find out why it's called Full House. But you have to wait a bit Ciao!