Disclaimer: This is a forgery, this is a forgery, every single word is
plagerized. Copied twice and thrice inscribed, this is a forgery.
(Dashboard confessional)
Last time on LGG:
"Come on; free your spirit," she suggested, reaching a hand to wiggle one of his chains as she made a pass through. Draco shook his head.
"It doesn't seem wise to free anything that's been caged up for so long; think of the mayhem... the tragedy and disaster." Hermione laughed; a good pure laugh, as she stuck a leg out straight and leaned back, letting her hair loose from her shoulders.
"Think of the mayhem, tragedy, and disaster it's causing in that cage you've locked it in." Draco shook his head at her, watching her ebony hair flutter in the light breeze, combined with her motion.
"But Mya, if I retrieve my spirit from eternal darkness... my soul will be lonely," he said and Hermione grinned, slowing her swing enough to make at least a bit of eye contact.
"Or restless."
~*~
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: Daddy's Little Punkin
Draco rolled his eyes and twisted his arms around the swing chains, but his feet remained rooted to the ground. Hermione watched him expectantly for a good minute before she became fed up with his un-childishness.
"Well? Don't make me push you," she threatened, and Draco laughed.
"Shouldn't I be pushing you?"
"If you were romantic, and gentlemanly," Hermione said, granting him that. "But I've got it under control."
"You look like you're doing enough spiritual cleansing for the both of us," he said, again denying her request, and Hermione made a semi-growling noise as she planted her feet, skidding to a stop with a cloud of dust in her wake.
"Come on, Draco, don't be so drab. There's no one here to see you except me, what are you afraid of?"
"Afraid? Nothing," Draco insisted, straightening and snobbishly pointing his nose to the sky. Hermione smirked.
"Oh, really? So why no swingy-swingy?"
"I don't feel like it," Draco concluded and Hermione shook her head, then started pumping her legs again. As she grew higher, her boyfriend watched her carefully. The light sprinkle of red dust from the friction between rusty chains was beginning to worry him slightly. "Hermione, are you sure these are safe?"
"Of course they are; like I said, I come here all the time. Haven't broken on me yet. Is THAT what you're afraid of?" Draco's worried expression became a little hard, and a lot less concerned.
"I told you, I'm not afraid. I just don't want to."
"Now who sounds underage? Alright, I'm giving you to the count of ten, and then I'm going to do something you'll regret me doing," Hermione said, not slowing her swing in the slightest. Draco smirked.
"As if you could or would do anything to hurt me," he said, and Hermione smirked, closing her eyes and leaning back.
"I never said I was going to hurt you. 1... 2..." Draco sighed as she continued, rolling his eyes. He wasn't afraid of Hermione... "5... 6... 7..."
"Hermione..." he said quietly, but she didn't sway in her counting.
"9... 10. Well, you asked for it," she said, again slowing her swing a bit and opening her eyes. Draco watched her with a bemused expression, until Hermione pointed five slim fingers in his direction; one of which was dressed in an elegant black and silver string, free of stricture. His eyes turned to her, widening slightly, but Hermione only smirked as she swung past. "Warned you," she reminded him before flicking her wrist and sending his swing into uncontrollable movement. It started out slow, then grew a bit higher, and faster... and soon Draco was swinging almost parallel to the supporting bar. Hermione laughed as she watched him hold on for dear life.
"Stop me!"
"Why? You said you weren't scared," Hermione said, slowing her swing almost to a stop, just so she could watch him. "You'll fly cross-country on a broom... but you won't swing ten feet of the ground? Oh, right... can't trust the muggles."
"Hermione, no... you don't...ah!" Draco started shakily, trying to explain, but he was cut off when the rusty hinges gave way, sending him flying backward across the small backyard and into the iron fence located about ten feet behind them. Hermione gasped as she watched, her smile immediately gone.
"Draco!" she called, vacating her swing and running to his side, falling directly to her knees. Draco was a bit winded, and Hermione's crooning didn't help... although he appreciated her guilt. "Oh, Draco... I'm sorry; are you hurt? Please say you're okay," she asked, trying hard to hold in giggles and touching his face and chest as if feeling for wounds... or blood. Draco shook his head, breath coming back to him.
"Nope; I'm pretty sure you just immobilized me for life," he said, and Hermione smiled, but shook her head.
"That's not funny; don't say that unless you mean it," she scolded, brushing his hair back so to better see his eyes. Draco gave a crooked smile.
"I'm fine, love. It wasn't your fault," he said, taking a deep breath before starting to get up, but Hermione pushed him back down.
"Maybe you shouldn't move for a while... just in case," she suggested, still running her fingers over his face and upper body. "God, I'm so sorry..." Hermione repeated, giving up on searching for wounds long enough to hug him. Draco laughed.
"I thought you said it was safe?" Hermione couldn't help but smirk at that.
"I don't swing on that side," she admitted, chuckling softly into his chest. "And never that high." Draco opened his mouth to again say something no-doubt witty, but another voice interrupted them.
"Who is that? Harmony, dear, is that you making that racket?" called a withered and cranky voice from inside the apartment and both teens looked through the window to see that a hunched figure was slowly coming toward the door. Hermione bit her lip and turned back to Draco.
"On second thought, maybe you better move," she said, sounding a bit scared, and Draco nodded, unsettled by the unknown, and started to get to his feet. Hermione saw the slight wince on his face and immediately went to his aid, standing and giving Draco a shoulder to lean on.
"Really, I'm fine," he insisted, not using much of her help, and again standing. Hermione watched him curiously, but Draco quickly placed a hand on her back and led her to the stairs. "Let me go first," he said, eye on the slowly progressing figure, "and I can help you down." Before Hermione could disagree, Draco quickly climbed up the steps and jumped over the other side, expertly stealthily. Hermione bit her lip and started up, but she was too late.
"Harmony! It IS you!" said a strong-looking old lady in her late seventies, sitting on a portable scooter, who had just come through the door. Hermione stopped her fleeing, but remained perched on the shortest box, aware that Draco must be going out of his mind trying to figure out where she was.
"Hello Mrs. Grindle," she said softly, smiling as if she had done absolutely nothing wrong. The old woman smiled widely, wrinkling her already creased face.
"Whatever are you doing here, love, aren't you supposed to be away at finishing school?"
"Yes, Mrs. Grindle, but I was in town for the day and I thought I'd come for a visit, but I'm afraid I missed you."
"Oh, I'm sorry dear. Boots needed litter for his kitty box," she said and, at the sound of the name, six black cats came up from behind, perching themselves in various places on her vehicle. "Won't you stay for tea?"
"Oh, I'm very sorry, Mrs. Grindle, but I have to go; train to catch in less than an hour." Grindle frowned.
"Oh... alright then. You will promise to come and visit me next time you're in town," she stated rather than asked and Hermione smiled.
"Of course, Mrs. Grindle," she said, and started again to climb the stairs. Grindle's cart moved a foot or so closer.
"Wait... what was that awful noise a moment ago?" Hermione stopped again at the concerned sound of Grindle's voice and pointed to the swing set.
"I was swinging, and it gave way on me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Grindle. I shall replace it at my first possible convenience," Hermione promised, but the old woman shook her head.
"Oh, that's quite alright, Harmony... are you hurt?"
"No... no, Mrs. Grindle, it's just a scratch. My fault, really; I was going much too high," Hermione insisted and Grindle chuckled softly.
"Always a daredevil, you were," she said dreamily, as if remembering something from long, long ago. Hermione waited a moment before she broke into Grindle's daze.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Grindle, but I really must be going. I shall visit soon; I promise," she said and Grindle nodded, still looking in a stupor. Hermione took the opportunity to make a quick escape, scampering up the boxes and peeking over the ledge to see Draco pacing like an expectant father on the other side of the brick wall. Because he looked up every five seconds, he soon noticed her, and his tenseness lessened.
"Oh, thank god," he said, stepping up to the wall, and Hermione gave him a cheery grin. Draco looked up at her as if he hadn't seen her in years, arms open and beckoning. She quickly turned around and started over the wall, using cracks and crevices as footholds. Hermione felt a pair of warm hands against her skin as soon as her ankles came into his reach, and she smiled to herself. Once he could touch her waist, Draco pulled her the rest of the way; off the wall and directly into his arms. Hermione turned around, still smiling, but Draco didn't see, as he enclosed her small frame in his arms, holding and rocking her as if she were the one who needed reassurance. "You bloody scared me half to death," he whispered, and Hermione laughed softly, closing her eyes.
"Why?" Draco's embrace grew tighter for a fleeting moment, but then he released her, holding her lovingly at arms length.
"Why? Why do you think? Where were you?" he demanded, then added under his breath, "Making me worry like that... honestly." Hermione smiled and kissed him softly.
"I'm sorry, Drakey. I got caught by Grindle... had to talk my way out of it," she explained, and Draco searched her face for a moment, as if trying to see if she'd left something out. Then, he pulled her back into his embrace, causing Hermione to laugh at the sudden lurch.
"Honestly, I'm such an idiot... let me go first... leave you to fend for yourself against god knows what..." he sighed. "I'm sorry... if anything had happened to you..." Hermione laughed again, this time for good reason.
"Draco, Mrs. Grindle is about six months away from 80, she can't walk on her own, and she loves me to death. Plus, I AM a witch... and I have both my wand and my ring... perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Draco laughed, but didn't let go.
"Well, how was I supposed to know all that?" Hermione smiled and pulled back, only to have Draco claim her lips. Her grin grew, and she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her, although they were already touching. The effect of this was that Hermione was slammed into the wall, with Draco pressing against her. The kiss continued, and as things got a little more heated, Draco slowly crouched down, causing Hermione to slide down the wall and seat herself in front of him, legs spread to allow his closeness. Draco smirked as he broke free from her lips and started in on her neck, moving a hand to her calf. As said hand traveled toward her thigh, over her knee, however, both the smirk and the kisses ceased. Hermione's smile also dropped a bit, and she opened her eyes.
"What?" she asked softly and Draco turned his eyes up to her, holding out his hand.
"Hermione, you're bleeding," he said softly, as if it were horrible news he was trying to break in the best possible way, and Hermione crumpled her eyebrows, moving her leg out straight, so that she could see a hole in the knee of her jeans, stained red.
"So that's what that sticky red stuff is..." she said dreamily, as if it really was a realization, but Draco ignored her sarcastic comment, hurriedly rolling up her pant leg to view the exact damage done. "Wait, Draco, don't..." But Hermione's warnings came to late, as Draco's eyes landed upon three irregularly large bumps along her calf.
"Hermione..."
"Just don't touch them, they itch like hell," she said, dismissing it quickly, and continuing Draco's abandoned task of rolling up her pant leg. "See? Just a scrape... probably from landing on my knees after you fell... well, flew." She explained. "There's not even that much blood." But Draco wasn't listening; he was gently letting his fingers roam an inch from her skin over the bumps.
"Bee..." Draco said so softly it was almost indistinguishable, and Hermione held in a giggle at his dazed stupor.
"Exactly. Just infected bee stings; I'll go to Madam Pomfrey the second we get back to school, I promise, okay? Calm down." Draco shook his head and got to his feet.
"I don't want you to wait that long," he said, an amazingly complex sentence compared to his previous. "No... We're going home right now. Mum can help," he said, taking her hands and pulling her up as well.
"Right now? Draco, we don't need to leave that soon... what's gotten into you?" Hermione asked, studying his face carefully. Draco sighed.
"I don't know... I'm just... working on impulse. I may be paranoid, but at least it's safe that way," he said, smirking. "And we are leaving right now," Draco repeated and Hermione shrugged.
"Alright, if it's that important to you..." she agreed and took a step to walk past him, but Draco scooped her into his arms. "Ah! What are you doing?"
"I love you," he murmured as he pressed his lips to her collarbone.
"Draco... you're sort of scaring me," Hermione admitted, but Draco paid no mind, adjusting her as comfortably as possible without being of harm to the fragile body, then started off toward the street. Hermione kept quiet, keeping her arm around his neck and her head on his shoulder... if Draco was going to have sudden overprotective mood swings, she wasn't going to object... it could be worse... he could be having sudden overly violent and hateful mood swings.
~*~*~*~
"Draco, PLEASE put me down; I think I'm capable of walking from the sidewalk to my house," Hermione pleaded as Draco turned into her yard, but he seemed adamant about his plan. Hermione sighed and let him carry her all the way from the path up the steps and across the porch, then finally inside. "Alright, I definitely think I'm okay now. I'll sit on the floor if you want me to, just, please... put me down!" Draco smiled crookedly and was about to agree when he was interrupted.
"Unhand my daughter," said another voice from the stairway and both teens turned sharply to see a short, portly man with autumn red hair and beard, fuming in the doorway.
"Daddy?" Hermione asked, surprised and a little scared. "Draco, put me down," she instructed quietly to her boyfriend, who this time obeyed, keeping his eyes on Mr. Granger, but at the same time gently placing Hermione on her feet. The moment she was settled, Hermione's father took several steps toward her. "Daddy..." Hermione said, a bit warningly as she took an equal amount of steps backward. Draco looked on helplessly, unsure of what he could and should do. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here... but I could ask the same of you," Mr. Granger said, looming over Hermione threateningly. He didn't stop his advance until he was standing in front of Draco. The older man then turned to the blonde, looking at him as if he were the lowliest scum on earth. "Who's your friend, punkin?" Hermione cringed, followed by discreet trembles. Draco, however, seemed as cool as ever. He smiled and gave a slight nod.
"Draco Malfoy, sir. I am a classmate of Hermione's," he said, holding out a hand in greeting. Hermione, surprised at his inadequate terminology for their relationship, gave a sigh of relief. If he'd even said 'friend', her father might have gone postal.
"A classmate, ay? Didn't look too classmate-y when I walked in," he said, glaring alternately at Draco's hand, which he refused to take, and his daughter. At this, Hermione stepped up.
"Draco was just being gentlemanly, Daddy... I tripped as we were walking and skinned my knee," she explained expertly, rolling up her pant leg to show him. Somewhat like Draco, but with much less concern, Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow, eyes on the swells of her calves.
"What are those other bumps, punkin?" Again, Hermione cringed, but turned her eyes down to her leg and shrugged.
"I was stung by a bee last week at a Quidditch game... I think they might be infected, but I haven't gotten a chance to see the nurse yet," she said smoothly, and her father seemed to buy it. Furthermore, he looked between them.
"Which reminds me... why are you here, punkin? Shouldn't you be at school?" Hermione hid her grimace at his nickname and smiled sweetly, looking to Draco, who seemed extremely hopeful that she might have a plan.
"It's the weekend, Daddy... I have permission from Dumbledore to return home and retrieve something I've forgotten, and Draco has come as my escort, because he is my designated prefect partner," Hermione said as if she'd explained it a thousand times, and Draco felt a small flutter of relief. That was the most believable lie he'd ever heard. Mr. Granger, however, narrowed his eyes.
"Prefect partner?" Hermione nodded eagerly.
"You weren't home yet before I left for school, or I would have told you; I made prefect this year, Daddy. Draco is the Slytherin prefect, and was chosen by Dumbledore to be my partner." She shrugged. "All that means is we do hall patrol at the same time." Mr. Granger looked between them again, and Hermione kept her smile. Draco had a feeling she'd had experience in lying to her father before.
"You don't share rooms or anything... do you?" Mr. Granger asked, and Draco quickly shook his head, but Hermione nodded. Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow. "Yes or no?"
"We share a common room with the other two prefects, Daddy, and a bathroom... but my bedchamber is next to Mandy Brocklehursts', the Ravenclaw prefect. We've become good friends, actually. Draco rooms with Morag MacDougal from Hufflepuff on the floor below ours, don't you, Draco?" Immediately, Draco nodded.
"Yes, indeed."
"Hm..." Mr. Granger hummed, obviously thinking. Hermione was feeling quite confident, but Draco was pretty much lost. "You're not dating this git, are you, punkin? You know the rules."
"Of course not, Daddy," she said and regarded Draco with a convincing, but fake, look of disgust. "Ew..."
"Good. But, if you recall, my dear, the rule states no fraternizing with the opposite sex until you are old enough to be married. I believe this is a violation."
"But Daddy... I have to, for school! They'll take away my prefect badge if I refuse to work with boys! That's insane!" Hermione complained childishly, stamping her foot. "I don't even like him, it's not my fault, Daddy!" Mr. Granger sighed.
"Alright, alright... I'll allow you to go back to school with this... thing... but after that, I want no more speaking, walking, or doing anything else together. I don't even want you two on a first name basis. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Draco spoke up, shaken at the sudden increase in Mr. Granger's otherwise monotone voice as he asked for agreement.
"Yes, Daddy," Hermione added hastily.
"Alright," Mr. Granger approved, keeping his eyes glued to Draco. "I assume you shall be leaving immediately?"
"Yes Daddy, as soon as I get Harriett's birthday present from upstairs." A sick smile crossed Mr. Granger's face.
"How are Harriett and Rolanda?"
"Very well, Daddy." As quickly as it had appeared, Mr. Granger's smile disappeared.
"That's good, punkin. Now, why don't I entertain your... partner... while you go get your present, and then I'll see you off, hm?"
"Yes Daddy," Hermione agreed, not having another choice, and started for the stairs, giving Draco a sympathetic look behind her father's back. He swallowed as she disappeared up the stairs. As soon as her feet touched the landing, Mr. Granger's sneer returned.
"Listen to me you... freak... if you EVER, and I mean EVER lay a finger on my daughter, I swear I will snap in half every. Wand. You. Have. Do you understand me, boy?" More than a bit intimidated without his wand, which was in his bag, Draco made a peep of fear and nodded speedily. "Good. As long as we understand each other. I know she's a pretty little bitch, and she'll grow up to be a whore just like her mother, but I don't want a fucking bastard on my hands until she's out of this house for good. You wouldn't happen to know of anyone else who might have... been... I don't know... studying with Hermione, do you?" Draco, nervous and not as good at lying as Hermione, shifted slightly.
"N-No, sir. Every time I see Granger she's either with Brocklehurst or some of her Gryffindor friends."
"Friends...?"
"Girls, sir. In fact, she avoids males so much I wouldn't have argued had someone told me she preferred women," Draco said, trying to exaggerate the point to which Hermione did not associate with men, but could have smacked himself at the job he did. Mr. Granger, however, seemed pleased.
"That's good... why don't you spread that around, boy? Tell them she's a dyke... that should keep the hotdogs away," he mused and Draco nodded.
"Of course, sir." Just then, Hermione flew down the stairs.
"I'm ready," she announced, carrying only a small gift-wrapped package, which she placed in her pocket.
"Alright then," Mr. Granger said, smiling as if nothing had conspired between them, and Hermione stepped back up beside Draco, standing a professional distance away. "How are you getting back to school, then?"
"Flying, Daddy. On a broom." He raised an eyebrow.
"What flying broom? I've never bought you a flying broom," he stated and Hermione nodded.
"I know Daddy; it's Malfoy's broom. Dumbledore made him take it." Mr. Granger nodded.
"Alright then, get to it," he said, looking between them again, and Hermione smiled sweetly, turning her eyes to Draco, who cluelessly patted his pockets. His broom was in his bag... shrunken, but in his bag...
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, digging in her pocket. "I forgot you gave it to me. Honestly, Malfoy, can't you find cloaks with pockets? Here..." she said, extracting the gum-stick sized Nimbus from her pocket. From another, she produced her wand, and flicked it once, allowing the broom to grow to a regular size. She handed it to Draco, who took it slowly. Mr. Granger glared at him, allowing Hermione to mouth 'Just get on,' without being seen. Draco followed her instructions and set the broom level in the air, getting on as close to the tip as he could manage without losing control and tipping. Hermione started toward the broom, but her father grabbed her wrist and wrenched her back, causing a gasp. Although inside Draco was screaming, he remained still and looking straight ahead, like a mechanical chauffeur.
"Remember, punkin," Mr. Granger warned, and Hermione nodded, a little more fear apparent at this distance. Satisfied with the rise in her, Mr. Granger, much to Draco's disgust, drew the hand not holding her wrist up Hermione's side, running off course to savagely grope her left breast. Pain was apparent in her eyes, but Hermione didn't make a sound, she simply waited for his exploration to finish. "Shall I see you for Christmas, punkin?"
"Of course, Daddy," Hermione said, sounding as fine as if he were giving her a loving hug. Mr. Granger smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione wouldn't allow him entrance to her mouth, although she'd received many a punishment because of it, and her father seemed to accept that, and satisfied himself with a simple elementary kiss. When he broke away, he let go of her completely and Hermione turned to Draco, who had obviously seen, due to the look on his face, but was staring straight ahead as if it were his one goal in life. Hermione seated herself on the back of the broom, sidesaddle, holding the shaft a good eight inches from Draco's rear. It was a good thing he owned a long broom. Without so much as another look at her father, Hermione lifted her wand and swished it twice, bathing them with invisibility. Mr. Granger looked a bit frightened, but he said nothing of it. The moment they were completely covered, Draco felt Hermione's arms snake around his waist and squeeze tight, followed by the feeling of her breasts pressed against his back, and a few light and silent kisses on the back of his neck. "Daddy, could you open the door for us?"
Mr. Granger, although not happily, opened the door for them, and Draco didn't wait for a command before he shot out of that house like a bat out of hell, one hand over Hermione's, which were clamped at his abdomen. He only flew for a few minutes, until he spotted what looked like an abandoned barn in the middle of a field. It seemed a good enough place, considering he didn't know how long they'd be staying. Rubbing her hands for comforting purposes, Draco shot toward the barn and skidded to a stop, landing on some old hay. Hermione sighed as she felt her feet touch the ground, and lifted the invisibility charm from them. Draco turned to her, but she turned away, unable to look him in the eye. Otherwise, she seemed entirely unbothered, simply standing with arms crossed, looking around at her new surroundings.
"Hermione..." Draco tried, needing to make sure that she really was all right, and Hermione turned to him as if startled.
"What?" she asked calmly, not a bit of venom in her voice. Draco shook his head.
"Nothing, just forget I said anything," he said sourly, plucking his broom from the air and walking to one of the higher stacks of hay. After carefully placing his flying machine in a place it wouldn't be lost, Draco slumped himself in the soft bed, sighing as he relaxed after such a traumatic experience. He really wasn't upset with Hermione... he had absolutely no reason to be... he was trying to trick her. The tiny bit of bite in his voice was supposed to make her feel guilty... coax her into talking. And it seemed to work. Hermione watched him seat himself with a frown, her eyes almost pleading for him not to be angry. Draco held his ground, keeping his eyes closed as if preparing for a nap, and Hermione simply stood in her spot and watched him.
There was only a brief period of complete silence before Hermione dropped her arms and made a small whine in her throat, hoping to get his attention, but Draco just shifted a little. Giving up, she approached him and sat down, wrapping her arms around his chest and burying her face in his shirt. Draco smirked to himself; it worked. He had a feeling it would. To complete his plan, he returned her embrace, comforting her although she cried no tears.
A/N: Guacamole. I realized how completely pointless the last chapter was, and because of it, there will be no PRF's. Great chapter, Oh, sex is good!, and I like swingsets. Was all I got. That's it. So I see no point. Until the next chapter!
Last time on LGG:
"Come on; free your spirit," she suggested, reaching a hand to wiggle one of his chains as she made a pass through. Draco shook his head.
"It doesn't seem wise to free anything that's been caged up for so long; think of the mayhem... the tragedy and disaster." Hermione laughed; a good pure laugh, as she stuck a leg out straight and leaned back, letting her hair loose from her shoulders.
"Think of the mayhem, tragedy, and disaster it's causing in that cage you've locked it in." Draco shook his head at her, watching her ebony hair flutter in the light breeze, combined with her motion.
"But Mya, if I retrieve my spirit from eternal darkness... my soul will be lonely," he said and Hermione grinned, slowing her swing enough to make at least a bit of eye contact.
"Or restless."
~*~
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: Daddy's Little Punkin
Draco rolled his eyes and twisted his arms around the swing chains, but his feet remained rooted to the ground. Hermione watched him expectantly for a good minute before she became fed up with his un-childishness.
"Well? Don't make me push you," she threatened, and Draco laughed.
"Shouldn't I be pushing you?"
"If you were romantic, and gentlemanly," Hermione said, granting him that. "But I've got it under control."
"You look like you're doing enough spiritual cleansing for the both of us," he said, again denying her request, and Hermione made a semi-growling noise as she planted her feet, skidding to a stop with a cloud of dust in her wake.
"Come on, Draco, don't be so drab. There's no one here to see you except me, what are you afraid of?"
"Afraid? Nothing," Draco insisted, straightening and snobbishly pointing his nose to the sky. Hermione smirked.
"Oh, really? So why no swingy-swingy?"
"I don't feel like it," Draco concluded and Hermione shook her head, then started pumping her legs again. As she grew higher, her boyfriend watched her carefully. The light sprinkle of red dust from the friction between rusty chains was beginning to worry him slightly. "Hermione, are you sure these are safe?"
"Of course they are; like I said, I come here all the time. Haven't broken on me yet. Is THAT what you're afraid of?" Draco's worried expression became a little hard, and a lot less concerned.
"I told you, I'm not afraid. I just don't want to."
"Now who sounds underage? Alright, I'm giving you to the count of ten, and then I'm going to do something you'll regret me doing," Hermione said, not slowing her swing in the slightest. Draco smirked.
"As if you could or would do anything to hurt me," he said, and Hermione smirked, closing her eyes and leaning back.
"I never said I was going to hurt you. 1... 2..." Draco sighed as she continued, rolling his eyes. He wasn't afraid of Hermione... "5... 6... 7..."
"Hermione..." he said quietly, but she didn't sway in her counting.
"9... 10. Well, you asked for it," she said, again slowing her swing a bit and opening her eyes. Draco watched her with a bemused expression, until Hermione pointed five slim fingers in his direction; one of which was dressed in an elegant black and silver string, free of stricture. His eyes turned to her, widening slightly, but Hermione only smirked as she swung past. "Warned you," she reminded him before flicking her wrist and sending his swing into uncontrollable movement. It started out slow, then grew a bit higher, and faster... and soon Draco was swinging almost parallel to the supporting bar. Hermione laughed as she watched him hold on for dear life.
"Stop me!"
"Why? You said you weren't scared," Hermione said, slowing her swing almost to a stop, just so she could watch him. "You'll fly cross-country on a broom... but you won't swing ten feet of the ground? Oh, right... can't trust the muggles."
"Hermione, no... you don't...ah!" Draco started shakily, trying to explain, but he was cut off when the rusty hinges gave way, sending him flying backward across the small backyard and into the iron fence located about ten feet behind them. Hermione gasped as she watched, her smile immediately gone.
"Draco!" she called, vacating her swing and running to his side, falling directly to her knees. Draco was a bit winded, and Hermione's crooning didn't help... although he appreciated her guilt. "Oh, Draco... I'm sorry; are you hurt? Please say you're okay," she asked, trying hard to hold in giggles and touching his face and chest as if feeling for wounds... or blood. Draco shook his head, breath coming back to him.
"Nope; I'm pretty sure you just immobilized me for life," he said, and Hermione smiled, but shook her head.
"That's not funny; don't say that unless you mean it," she scolded, brushing his hair back so to better see his eyes. Draco gave a crooked smile.
"I'm fine, love. It wasn't your fault," he said, taking a deep breath before starting to get up, but Hermione pushed him back down.
"Maybe you shouldn't move for a while... just in case," she suggested, still running her fingers over his face and upper body. "God, I'm so sorry..." Hermione repeated, giving up on searching for wounds long enough to hug him. Draco laughed.
"I thought you said it was safe?" Hermione couldn't help but smirk at that.
"I don't swing on that side," she admitted, chuckling softly into his chest. "And never that high." Draco opened his mouth to again say something no-doubt witty, but another voice interrupted them.
"Who is that? Harmony, dear, is that you making that racket?" called a withered and cranky voice from inside the apartment and both teens looked through the window to see that a hunched figure was slowly coming toward the door. Hermione bit her lip and turned back to Draco.
"On second thought, maybe you better move," she said, sounding a bit scared, and Draco nodded, unsettled by the unknown, and started to get to his feet. Hermione saw the slight wince on his face and immediately went to his aid, standing and giving Draco a shoulder to lean on.
"Really, I'm fine," he insisted, not using much of her help, and again standing. Hermione watched him curiously, but Draco quickly placed a hand on her back and led her to the stairs. "Let me go first," he said, eye on the slowly progressing figure, "and I can help you down." Before Hermione could disagree, Draco quickly climbed up the steps and jumped over the other side, expertly stealthily. Hermione bit her lip and started up, but she was too late.
"Harmony! It IS you!" said a strong-looking old lady in her late seventies, sitting on a portable scooter, who had just come through the door. Hermione stopped her fleeing, but remained perched on the shortest box, aware that Draco must be going out of his mind trying to figure out where she was.
"Hello Mrs. Grindle," she said softly, smiling as if she had done absolutely nothing wrong. The old woman smiled widely, wrinkling her already creased face.
"Whatever are you doing here, love, aren't you supposed to be away at finishing school?"
"Yes, Mrs. Grindle, but I was in town for the day and I thought I'd come for a visit, but I'm afraid I missed you."
"Oh, I'm sorry dear. Boots needed litter for his kitty box," she said and, at the sound of the name, six black cats came up from behind, perching themselves in various places on her vehicle. "Won't you stay for tea?"
"Oh, I'm very sorry, Mrs. Grindle, but I have to go; train to catch in less than an hour." Grindle frowned.
"Oh... alright then. You will promise to come and visit me next time you're in town," she stated rather than asked and Hermione smiled.
"Of course, Mrs. Grindle," she said, and started again to climb the stairs. Grindle's cart moved a foot or so closer.
"Wait... what was that awful noise a moment ago?" Hermione stopped again at the concerned sound of Grindle's voice and pointed to the swing set.
"I was swinging, and it gave way on me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Grindle. I shall replace it at my first possible convenience," Hermione promised, but the old woman shook her head.
"Oh, that's quite alright, Harmony... are you hurt?"
"No... no, Mrs. Grindle, it's just a scratch. My fault, really; I was going much too high," Hermione insisted and Grindle chuckled softly.
"Always a daredevil, you were," she said dreamily, as if remembering something from long, long ago. Hermione waited a moment before she broke into Grindle's daze.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Grindle, but I really must be going. I shall visit soon; I promise," she said and Grindle nodded, still looking in a stupor. Hermione took the opportunity to make a quick escape, scampering up the boxes and peeking over the ledge to see Draco pacing like an expectant father on the other side of the brick wall. Because he looked up every five seconds, he soon noticed her, and his tenseness lessened.
"Oh, thank god," he said, stepping up to the wall, and Hermione gave him a cheery grin. Draco looked up at her as if he hadn't seen her in years, arms open and beckoning. She quickly turned around and started over the wall, using cracks and crevices as footholds. Hermione felt a pair of warm hands against her skin as soon as her ankles came into his reach, and she smiled to herself. Once he could touch her waist, Draco pulled her the rest of the way; off the wall and directly into his arms. Hermione turned around, still smiling, but Draco didn't see, as he enclosed her small frame in his arms, holding and rocking her as if she were the one who needed reassurance. "You bloody scared me half to death," he whispered, and Hermione laughed softly, closing her eyes.
"Why?" Draco's embrace grew tighter for a fleeting moment, but then he released her, holding her lovingly at arms length.
"Why? Why do you think? Where were you?" he demanded, then added under his breath, "Making me worry like that... honestly." Hermione smiled and kissed him softly.
"I'm sorry, Drakey. I got caught by Grindle... had to talk my way out of it," she explained, and Draco searched her face for a moment, as if trying to see if she'd left something out. Then, he pulled her back into his embrace, causing Hermione to laugh at the sudden lurch.
"Honestly, I'm such an idiot... let me go first... leave you to fend for yourself against god knows what..." he sighed. "I'm sorry... if anything had happened to you..." Hermione laughed again, this time for good reason.
"Draco, Mrs. Grindle is about six months away from 80, she can't walk on her own, and she loves me to death. Plus, I AM a witch... and I have both my wand and my ring... perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Draco laughed, but didn't let go.
"Well, how was I supposed to know all that?" Hermione smiled and pulled back, only to have Draco claim her lips. Her grin grew, and she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her, although they were already touching. The effect of this was that Hermione was slammed into the wall, with Draco pressing against her. The kiss continued, and as things got a little more heated, Draco slowly crouched down, causing Hermione to slide down the wall and seat herself in front of him, legs spread to allow his closeness. Draco smirked as he broke free from her lips and started in on her neck, moving a hand to her calf. As said hand traveled toward her thigh, over her knee, however, both the smirk and the kisses ceased. Hermione's smile also dropped a bit, and she opened her eyes.
"What?" she asked softly and Draco turned his eyes up to her, holding out his hand.
"Hermione, you're bleeding," he said softly, as if it were horrible news he was trying to break in the best possible way, and Hermione crumpled her eyebrows, moving her leg out straight, so that she could see a hole in the knee of her jeans, stained red.
"So that's what that sticky red stuff is..." she said dreamily, as if it really was a realization, but Draco ignored her sarcastic comment, hurriedly rolling up her pant leg to view the exact damage done. "Wait, Draco, don't..." But Hermione's warnings came to late, as Draco's eyes landed upon three irregularly large bumps along her calf.
"Hermione..."
"Just don't touch them, they itch like hell," she said, dismissing it quickly, and continuing Draco's abandoned task of rolling up her pant leg. "See? Just a scrape... probably from landing on my knees after you fell... well, flew." She explained. "There's not even that much blood." But Draco wasn't listening; he was gently letting his fingers roam an inch from her skin over the bumps.
"Bee..." Draco said so softly it was almost indistinguishable, and Hermione held in a giggle at his dazed stupor.
"Exactly. Just infected bee stings; I'll go to Madam Pomfrey the second we get back to school, I promise, okay? Calm down." Draco shook his head and got to his feet.
"I don't want you to wait that long," he said, an amazingly complex sentence compared to his previous. "No... We're going home right now. Mum can help," he said, taking her hands and pulling her up as well.
"Right now? Draco, we don't need to leave that soon... what's gotten into you?" Hermione asked, studying his face carefully. Draco sighed.
"I don't know... I'm just... working on impulse. I may be paranoid, but at least it's safe that way," he said, smirking. "And we are leaving right now," Draco repeated and Hermione shrugged.
"Alright, if it's that important to you..." she agreed and took a step to walk past him, but Draco scooped her into his arms. "Ah! What are you doing?"
"I love you," he murmured as he pressed his lips to her collarbone.
"Draco... you're sort of scaring me," Hermione admitted, but Draco paid no mind, adjusting her as comfortably as possible without being of harm to the fragile body, then started off toward the street. Hermione kept quiet, keeping her arm around his neck and her head on his shoulder... if Draco was going to have sudden overprotective mood swings, she wasn't going to object... it could be worse... he could be having sudden overly violent and hateful mood swings.
~*~*~*~
"Draco, PLEASE put me down; I think I'm capable of walking from the sidewalk to my house," Hermione pleaded as Draco turned into her yard, but he seemed adamant about his plan. Hermione sighed and let him carry her all the way from the path up the steps and across the porch, then finally inside. "Alright, I definitely think I'm okay now. I'll sit on the floor if you want me to, just, please... put me down!" Draco smiled crookedly and was about to agree when he was interrupted.
"Unhand my daughter," said another voice from the stairway and both teens turned sharply to see a short, portly man with autumn red hair and beard, fuming in the doorway.
"Daddy?" Hermione asked, surprised and a little scared. "Draco, put me down," she instructed quietly to her boyfriend, who this time obeyed, keeping his eyes on Mr. Granger, but at the same time gently placing Hermione on her feet. The moment she was settled, Hermione's father took several steps toward her. "Daddy..." Hermione said, a bit warningly as she took an equal amount of steps backward. Draco looked on helplessly, unsure of what he could and should do. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here... but I could ask the same of you," Mr. Granger said, looming over Hermione threateningly. He didn't stop his advance until he was standing in front of Draco. The older man then turned to the blonde, looking at him as if he were the lowliest scum on earth. "Who's your friend, punkin?" Hermione cringed, followed by discreet trembles. Draco, however, seemed as cool as ever. He smiled and gave a slight nod.
"Draco Malfoy, sir. I am a classmate of Hermione's," he said, holding out a hand in greeting. Hermione, surprised at his inadequate terminology for their relationship, gave a sigh of relief. If he'd even said 'friend', her father might have gone postal.
"A classmate, ay? Didn't look too classmate-y when I walked in," he said, glaring alternately at Draco's hand, which he refused to take, and his daughter. At this, Hermione stepped up.
"Draco was just being gentlemanly, Daddy... I tripped as we were walking and skinned my knee," she explained expertly, rolling up her pant leg to show him. Somewhat like Draco, but with much less concern, Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow, eyes on the swells of her calves.
"What are those other bumps, punkin?" Again, Hermione cringed, but turned her eyes down to her leg and shrugged.
"I was stung by a bee last week at a Quidditch game... I think they might be infected, but I haven't gotten a chance to see the nurse yet," she said smoothly, and her father seemed to buy it. Furthermore, he looked between them.
"Which reminds me... why are you here, punkin? Shouldn't you be at school?" Hermione hid her grimace at his nickname and smiled sweetly, looking to Draco, who seemed extremely hopeful that she might have a plan.
"It's the weekend, Daddy... I have permission from Dumbledore to return home and retrieve something I've forgotten, and Draco has come as my escort, because he is my designated prefect partner," Hermione said as if she'd explained it a thousand times, and Draco felt a small flutter of relief. That was the most believable lie he'd ever heard. Mr. Granger, however, narrowed his eyes.
"Prefect partner?" Hermione nodded eagerly.
"You weren't home yet before I left for school, or I would have told you; I made prefect this year, Daddy. Draco is the Slytherin prefect, and was chosen by Dumbledore to be my partner." She shrugged. "All that means is we do hall patrol at the same time." Mr. Granger looked between them again, and Hermione kept her smile. Draco had a feeling she'd had experience in lying to her father before.
"You don't share rooms or anything... do you?" Mr. Granger asked, and Draco quickly shook his head, but Hermione nodded. Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow. "Yes or no?"
"We share a common room with the other two prefects, Daddy, and a bathroom... but my bedchamber is next to Mandy Brocklehursts', the Ravenclaw prefect. We've become good friends, actually. Draco rooms with Morag MacDougal from Hufflepuff on the floor below ours, don't you, Draco?" Immediately, Draco nodded.
"Yes, indeed."
"Hm..." Mr. Granger hummed, obviously thinking. Hermione was feeling quite confident, but Draco was pretty much lost. "You're not dating this git, are you, punkin? You know the rules."
"Of course not, Daddy," she said and regarded Draco with a convincing, but fake, look of disgust. "Ew..."
"Good. But, if you recall, my dear, the rule states no fraternizing with the opposite sex until you are old enough to be married. I believe this is a violation."
"But Daddy... I have to, for school! They'll take away my prefect badge if I refuse to work with boys! That's insane!" Hermione complained childishly, stamping her foot. "I don't even like him, it's not my fault, Daddy!" Mr. Granger sighed.
"Alright, alright... I'll allow you to go back to school with this... thing... but after that, I want no more speaking, walking, or doing anything else together. I don't even want you two on a first name basis. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Draco spoke up, shaken at the sudden increase in Mr. Granger's otherwise monotone voice as he asked for agreement.
"Yes, Daddy," Hermione added hastily.
"Alright," Mr. Granger approved, keeping his eyes glued to Draco. "I assume you shall be leaving immediately?"
"Yes Daddy, as soon as I get Harriett's birthday present from upstairs." A sick smile crossed Mr. Granger's face.
"How are Harriett and Rolanda?"
"Very well, Daddy." As quickly as it had appeared, Mr. Granger's smile disappeared.
"That's good, punkin. Now, why don't I entertain your... partner... while you go get your present, and then I'll see you off, hm?"
"Yes Daddy," Hermione agreed, not having another choice, and started for the stairs, giving Draco a sympathetic look behind her father's back. He swallowed as she disappeared up the stairs. As soon as her feet touched the landing, Mr. Granger's sneer returned.
"Listen to me you... freak... if you EVER, and I mean EVER lay a finger on my daughter, I swear I will snap in half every. Wand. You. Have. Do you understand me, boy?" More than a bit intimidated without his wand, which was in his bag, Draco made a peep of fear and nodded speedily. "Good. As long as we understand each other. I know she's a pretty little bitch, and she'll grow up to be a whore just like her mother, but I don't want a fucking bastard on my hands until she's out of this house for good. You wouldn't happen to know of anyone else who might have... been... I don't know... studying with Hermione, do you?" Draco, nervous and not as good at lying as Hermione, shifted slightly.
"N-No, sir. Every time I see Granger she's either with Brocklehurst or some of her Gryffindor friends."
"Friends...?"
"Girls, sir. In fact, she avoids males so much I wouldn't have argued had someone told me she preferred women," Draco said, trying to exaggerate the point to which Hermione did not associate with men, but could have smacked himself at the job he did. Mr. Granger, however, seemed pleased.
"That's good... why don't you spread that around, boy? Tell them she's a dyke... that should keep the hotdogs away," he mused and Draco nodded.
"Of course, sir." Just then, Hermione flew down the stairs.
"I'm ready," she announced, carrying only a small gift-wrapped package, which she placed in her pocket.
"Alright then," Mr. Granger said, smiling as if nothing had conspired between them, and Hermione stepped back up beside Draco, standing a professional distance away. "How are you getting back to school, then?"
"Flying, Daddy. On a broom." He raised an eyebrow.
"What flying broom? I've never bought you a flying broom," he stated and Hermione nodded.
"I know Daddy; it's Malfoy's broom. Dumbledore made him take it." Mr. Granger nodded.
"Alright then, get to it," he said, looking between them again, and Hermione smiled sweetly, turning her eyes to Draco, who cluelessly patted his pockets. His broom was in his bag... shrunken, but in his bag...
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, digging in her pocket. "I forgot you gave it to me. Honestly, Malfoy, can't you find cloaks with pockets? Here..." she said, extracting the gum-stick sized Nimbus from her pocket. From another, she produced her wand, and flicked it once, allowing the broom to grow to a regular size. She handed it to Draco, who took it slowly. Mr. Granger glared at him, allowing Hermione to mouth 'Just get on,' without being seen. Draco followed her instructions and set the broom level in the air, getting on as close to the tip as he could manage without losing control and tipping. Hermione started toward the broom, but her father grabbed her wrist and wrenched her back, causing a gasp. Although inside Draco was screaming, he remained still and looking straight ahead, like a mechanical chauffeur.
"Remember, punkin," Mr. Granger warned, and Hermione nodded, a little more fear apparent at this distance. Satisfied with the rise in her, Mr. Granger, much to Draco's disgust, drew the hand not holding her wrist up Hermione's side, running off course to savagely grope her left breast. Pain was apparent in her eyes, but Hermione didn't make a sound, she simply waited for his exploration to finish. "Shall I see you for Christmas, punkin?"
"Of course, Daddy," Hermione said, sounding as fine as if he were giving her a loving hug. Mr. Granger smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione wouldn't allow him entrance to her mouth, although she'd received many a punishment because of it, and her father seemed to accept that, and satisfied himself with a simple elementary kiss. When he broke away, he let go of her completely and Hermione turned to Draco, who had obviously seen, due to the look on his face, but was staring straight ahead as if it were his one goal in life. Hermione seated herself on the back of the broom, sidesaddle, holding the shaft a good eight inches from Draco's rear. It was a good thing he owned a long broom. Without so much as another look at her father, Hermione lifted her wand and swished it twice, bathing them with invisibility. Mr. Granger looked a bit frightened, but he said nothing of it. The moment they were completely covered, Draco felt Hermione's arms snake around his waist and squeeze tight, followed by the feeling of her breasts pressed against his back, and a few light and silent kisses on the back of his neck. "Daddy, could you open the door for us?"
Mr. Granger, although not happily, opened the door for them, and Draco didn't wait for a command before he shot out of that house like a bat out of hell, one hand over Hermione's, which were clamped at his abdomen. He only flew for a few minutes, until he spotted what looked like an abandoned barn in the middle of a field. It seemed a good enough place, considering he didn't know how long they'd be staying. Rubbing her hands for comforting purposes, Draco shot toward the barn and skidded to a stop, landing on some old hay. Hermione sighed as she felt her feet touch the ground, and lifted the invisibility charm from them. Draco turned to her, but she turned away, unable to look him in the eye. Otherwise, she seemed entirely unbothered, simply standing with arms crossed, looking around at her new surroundings.
"Hermione..." Draco tried, needing to make sure that she really was all right, and Hermione turned to him as if startled.
"What?" she asked calmly, not a bit of venom in her voice. Draco shook his head.
"Nothing, just forget I said anything," he said sourly, plucking his broom from the air and walking to one of the higher stacks of hay. After carefully placing his flying machine in a place it wouldn't be lost, Draco slumped himself in the soft bed, sighing as he relaxed after such a traumatic experience. He really wasn't upset with Hermione... he had absolutely no reason to be... he was trying to trick her. The tiny bit of bite in his voice was supposed to make her feel guilty... coax her into talking. And it seemed to work. Hermione watched him seat himself with a frown, her eyes almost pleading for him not to be angry. Draco held his ground, keeping his eyes closed as if preparing for a nap, and Hermione simply stood in her spot and watched him.
There was only a brief period of complete silence before Hermione dropped her arms and made a small whine in her throat, hoping to get his attention, but Draco just shifted a little. Giving up, she approached him and sat down, wrapping her arms around his chest and burying her face in his shirt. Draco smirked to himself; it worked. He had a feeling it would. To complete his plan, he returned her embrace, comforting her although she cried no tears.
A/N: Guacamole. I realized how completely pointless the last chapter was, and because of it, there will be no PRF's. Great chapter, Oh, sex is good!, and I like swingsets. Was all I got. That's it. So I see no point. Until the next chapter!