a/n: im back : chapter 3 is still in the works, i'll update soon.
Disclaimer: i dont own hp.
Chapter 2: 'Good Going Draco'
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"What? I don't have it yet." Hermione replied, nervously, biting on her bottom lip. He merely looked at her, raising an eyebrow—as if he was expecting an answer for a question he hasn't asked yet.
"Then, what are you doing here?" He asked.
"I live here."
"Right. As if I haven't heard that a million times." He replied cockily. "I expect to see my iPod tomorrow." He entered his flat then slammed the door before her. Leaving Hermione looking and feeling pathetic—hair all ruffled, jaw dropped, cellphone on her right hand—it's dial tone was getting louder and louder—her bag messily draped over her left arm, a bag of dinner she had bought for herself clutched by her left hand, and in complete in utter shock that she had the misfortune of having Harry Potter, an egotistical, arrogant, belittling, insufferable, cocky bastard of an actor he is, as her neighbor and boss.
She sighed heavily and fumbled with the keys in her bag, making everything she clutched in her hand—cellphone, dinner, her bag—drop to the floor, making loud noises in the hallway. But then, there were only two flats consuming this floor so the only person she'd be bothering was Harry Potter—and she'd be happy to do so.
She bent down cautiously to pick her things up, cussing under her breath.
"Clumsy little fella, aren't you, Casey?" said a voice coming from across the hall, Hermione almost didn't answer him—but she remembered that he knew her as 'Casey Barrett'. She turned her head around to see Harry Potter, standing behind her, his arms crossed and his muscular upper body leaning against his doorframe.
"Sod off." She replied angrily, picking up the bits of paper that had scattered all over the floor, sighing heavily when the side of her eye still saw his feet rooted to the ground. She was responded to by only silence, and slight chuckling from the man behind her.
"Is that the way to talk to your boss?" He asked. Crouching beside her. Hermione took in his scent—he smelled good it had a musky, peppermint feel to it—and the faint smell of coffee. She loved the smell of coffee, or mocha. It was relaxing. She felt a blush creep up to her cheeks, but then—she loathed him. And she kept telling herself that, but her body proved otherwise, making her turn a light shade of pink.
"It's not working hours. And I don't care if you fire me. I could go home and get—ugh, nevermind." The thought of marriage ran through her mind, letting her shudder—looking deeply into his emerald eyes.
"Get what? Get thinner, perhaps?" He smirked. There was an empty silence that lingered above him, engulfing him into an aura of anger which was radiating off her.
Hermione glared at him and rolled her eyes. "No, maybe get boxing lessons and punch the living daylights out of—"
"That's one warning, Barrett. Acquire 3 more and you're out of the building." He warned, standing up again. Hermione heard him groan, and felt another blush creep up her cheeks. He was handsome, and his voice was pleasant—but his attitude discouraged her from those thoughts.
"You're only nice in television." She retorted angrily, finally picking her things up and slamming the door angrily behind her, feeling her prim and proper mannerisms deteriorating by the second, she felt like she needed to relax. And she did, and for once she let her feet on the coffee table. Harry seemed to ruin her life—which was already ruined years ago by her own carelessness. She wanted it to stop.
When inside, she set out her things on the table, plopping down tiredly into the couch, turning on the tv to the news channel, checking if there was anything about her—or her friends—on the news. She increased the volume, letting it echo throughout the flat as she walked to her room and changed her clothes. She smiled happily to herself as she was no longer in that tight business suit and heels. Her first day only proved that she could wear something more casual. She sat quietly on her couch, eyeing the telephone closely, since she moved here, the annoying little voice in her head told her to call home. It was her mother's birthday.
Someone knocked on her door which snapped her out of her thoughts once again. She furrowed her eyebrows in worry—dreading that it was her 'friendly' neighbor on her doorstep. She opened it quite reluctantly, as Draco hadn't acquired a door with an eyehole. She tried to rid herself of that dread that seemed to rush through her veins, thinking of insults that she can throw to that prat—
"Princess, please come back." Said the man who was standing in front of her in a black suit, his hair was white and the wrinkles in his face were starting to show as he spoke, his face etched with worry. She then realized who he was, he was her butler, Francis. She felt her eyes burn with hot, fresh, tears which she blinked away immediately. His voice was horse, his hair was messy, and his hands were clasped together in front of his chest, those large, faded blue colored eyes staring back at her.
"Hush, Francis, hush!" She warned, "Please, not here. And no, Francis, please—go home."
"But my master and his mistress ordered me to not return home until I've found you. They've gotten news that you reside somewhere in this area." He said quietly, and sadly. Looking down.
"And when was that, Francis?"
"A month ago..."
"A month!" Hermione exclaimed lifting her hands in the air. "Mother and father haven't been kind to you! Are you okay? Where do you stay? Are you fed well?"
"Your highness, they have been kind to me through all my years in the Granger family" He paused, as he saw Hermione put her forefinger to her mouth, signaling that he lower his voice. "but—I am pleased that you care for me this much but please, your highness, young master Ronald doesn't want to be kept waiting, he has returned from his business trip of 2 years from Italy and he wants to—"
"Francis, shush. Not here!" Hermione warned once again, opening her door wider, revealing her flat. Her hands gestured towards the inside of her flat, inviting him in.
"No, your highness, I am fine out here on the corridor, I do not wish to—"
"Please, Francis, I am no longer a princess! I have refused to marry him and it's over!"
"But it is you, he wants. It is you, my highness, please. Let me bring you home and I will make you your favorite cup of tea." He said cheerfully, smiling at her.
"No, Francis, please go home. I do not wish to stay with them. Please respect my decision. Go home Francis, I am okay here. Don't worry about me." Hermione replied sadly, it was a tempting offer, she had missed her favorite cup of tea for ages...
"As you wish, Madam." He bowed slightly and headed towards the elevator.
Hermione closed the door behind her and sunk down to the floor, how had her parent's been cruel to such an innocent man? She only worried about him—Francis was her best friend when she was young, and his unexpected visit had only brought back fond memories of her home which she did not wish to return to. She then found herself eating dinner, munching silently on her salad. She looked up at her clock. Which was already 11. At twelve, she would leave. And not be home for at least 4 hours. Afraid that Draco brought home a girl... She shuddered at the thought. She wouldn't want to be next door as she heard them... "Ugh." She said, dropping her fork into her plate—making the clanking sound echo throughout the flat, she had never been used to the eerie silence of being alone.
She then furrowed her brows in worry, had her next-door neighbor heard her conversation? He wouldn't be that daft, would he? She cleared out the mess on the dinner table, she put the utensils into the dishwasher after. She sighed heavily. Wondering whether she dye her hair back to brown—Ginny said it was a horrendous color on her. She picked up her cellphone and dialed Draco's number.
"Hello—"
"Hey ferret, I was just wondering, are you gonna bring her home? Cause I would want to stay here tonight and watch the tonight show, I've only seen an episode at work this morning and I've fallen in love with it—so, are you going to bring her home? And how long do you think those things happen?" She said, giggling slightly at the silence of her best friend over the line.
"Casey?"
"Draco?"
"I'm not Draco."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Harry."
"Are you gay? What are you doing with Draco?" She asked, her fits of laughter suddenly replaced with utter dread and horror.
"I'm not with him! You earned yourself another warning, Casey."
"Oh, sorry then, wrong number." She replied sheepishly. Turns out that she accidentally pressed a few numbers.
Much to her delight, Draco said that he'd be home, without the woman. So she finally felt at ease—at least tried to, except for the unsettling feeling that she got herself fired within a day's work. She turned on the television, watching her favorite movie—Notting Hill. She turned up the volume, watching in closely as...
There was a loud banging on the door. Hermione quickly turned around to open it. And it was none other than Harry Potter, in an undershirt and shorts, in his expensive, high-quality silk bathrobe, breathing heavily. Oh how she would love to take a picture of this, even if it was expensive, it was still a bathrobe—which made her giggle inwardly.
"Lower the volume down there! Someone's trying to sleep!" he complained, running his hair through his raven colored locks.
"Okay. Sorry." Hermione replied, and tried closing the door, but it didn't. His strong arms had stopped it from closing.
"So, Draco's coming home with a lady?" he asked.
"No."
"Ferret?"
"Uhm, yeah. It's complicated, actually, you know. He got that name in school. Good night." She said and closed the door quickly, afraid that he would force himself in—she'd already have enough of him.
The night had passed uneventfully, she fell asleep on the couch and Draco came home much later than that. She had another dreamless sleep and was grateful that tomorrow was a holiday.
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"What the hell is she doing there?" Asked a vaguely familiar voice. It was distant, and cruel. Which made her jolt up from her makeshift bed.
"Huh?" She asked, as she looked at the scene before her, scratching her eyes and flattening out her pajamas. Draco was cooking breakfast as a raven haired man in his work clothes sitting on the couch across her, taking a sip of coffee.
"Sleep well, princess?" Harry asked. Hermione stiffened as he said that. He couldn't possibly... "Cause you don't sleep like one. I've heard ogre's snore weaker than you."
Hermione relaxed after realizing that it was a joke. She smelled the wonderful aroma of coffee and french toast that lingered in the sitting room, making her mouth water slightly. She stretched her arms high into the air, smiling sheepishly to herself—then Harry raised an eyebrow at her, grumbling a highly audible "What the hell is she happy about?" But she didn't mind him as she walked up to her bestfriend. And kissed him on the cheek—they were accustomed to that since they were children. "Good morning, ferret."
"How many girls are you sleeping with? God, you disgust me." Harry mocked at the two, taking another sip. Raising an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Hermione only glared at him.
"Oh no, she's like my sister." He explained.
"Which is even worse..." Harry started, and making an adorable ew-you-disgust-me look. Hermione wasn't blind, he was good-looking. Too bad that he was such a jackarse.
"Shut up, Potter."
"Do you guys, know each other?" Hermione asked, suddenly confused on how he ended up on her flat, gesturing towards the two men.
"That was smart." Snorted Harry who merely looked into the newspaper, "Hey! I'm on the entertainment section again."
"Erm, Harry's my bestfriend, Her—Casey." Draco told her, ignoring his incredibly cocky—(in Hermione's opinion)—'bestfriend'
"Oh, alright. Better get going then..." Hermione started, walking towards the shower. "I think I'll pay Ginny a visit."
"But you can't—she's at—" Draco warned, his spatula pointed at her, turning a shade of bright crimson red.
"Hey guys. Good Morning." Ginny emerged from Draco's bedroom, in Draco's 'Yankee's shirt and ruffled hair. She yawned loudly, stretching her arms, smiling sheepishly at the two. She took a mug of coffee and sat down beside Harry. She giggled at Hermione, who had her jaw dropped and her bewildered expression made her look... funny.
"Ginny?!" Hermione screamed, "What in God's sake happened here?! Don't tell me, I slept through that!" Hermione gestured towards Draco and Ginny, who were looking at her in disbelief...and shock. Yeah, mostly shock.
"Bingo, she finally gets something right this time." Snapped Harry, who looked like he enjoyed the spur of the moment, smiling childishly to everyone.
"Will you please shut your—"
"Want another warning, Casey?" Harry asked, his finger in the air, waving it side-to-side. Hermione huffed down on the couch angrily. "Didn't think so." He added, he seemed to enjoy her agony.
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Harry went to his flat after a few minutes of silence, leaving the 3 bestfriends alone. There was a thick air hovering above them. Hermione tensed up as she recounted what happened last night. She didn't like the awkwardness of the moment, seeing as she had to witness all that, in front of Harry Potter. She put her head in her hands,
massaging her temples. "Francis visited last night..." she started.
"What?!" Bellowed the two.
"He found me and asked me to come home. Mom and dad told him to never return until he's brought me back with him. It's been a month! A month!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, her tears threatening to fall. "I don't even know if he's fed well, or if he's had any sleep—"
"Don't worry, dear. Francis can handle himself." Ginny said, leaning on the countertop, as Draco's arms slithered around her waist.
"I just miss everybody. I miss Luna, Ronald, not until recently, you." She told Ginny. "I miss you all."
"We know, honey. But... you made a choice, and your friends respect that. If you want you could give them a call, but it will be way, way, risky. Call someone you trust. But not right now, perhaps in the future. Okay?" she suggested, taking a seat beside Hermione.
"I don't get it, why couldn't Fred or George do this instead of Ronald? By the way, Ginny, how are they?"
"Fred's gone, Hermione. He's gone."
"What d-do you mean g-gone?"
"He was rushed to the hospital and—"
"No, no. NO! That can't be! Fred's always good at sports! He's healthy!" Hermione exclaimed, letting her tears fall freely from her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to say was. It was too difficult for her. "How come nobody told me?!"
"You were gone, for two years! I was surprised myself the day that Hermione Granger entered my office, asking for a job!"
"Oh Ginny, Draco. I'm so sorry." She said, engulfing the two in a giant hug, crying.
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Hermione sat behind her desk, in Ginny's office, taking calls for Harry, putting them on post-its. She wan an obsessive compulsive, so she put the important calls of red ones, not-so important calls on yellow ones, and calls that aren't important at all on green ones. He seemed to like the system and told Hermione that family goes to the green category. Which made Hermione uneasy. Cruel little prat. Since the shock she had received this morning, she devoted her holiday to working. Maybe get her mind off Fred... and Francis... and—blast it, I'm doing it again.
Work was supposed to keep her busy, instead she just found herself dozing off even more, since Harry wasn't there, there wasn't much that she could do. But wait—since when did her entire life revolve around him? She just went to work—which already revolved around him—to get rid of her problems! Perhaps she should call home.
Perhaps.
Hermione picked up the phone and dialed George's number. She shifted nervously in her seat, nibbling on her bottom lip.
"Hello?" asked a dull voice.
"George?" Hermione asked, she could feel her eyes burn with hot, fresh tears at how his voice was no longer cheerful, or bouncy.
"Yeah, who's this?"
"H-hermione..." She stuttered, unsure whether she bring down the phone or not.
"Hermione? Is it you?"
"George, please don't tell anyone about me calling you. I'm sorry. Really sorry for Fred. I've only heard now and—"
"Stop, Hermione."
"George? Please, I'm sorry. If I've heard sooner, I would've jumped on to the next plane back to you guys." She felt her tears drop from her eyes, making damp spots on her jeans.
"I—It's hard, to explain. You know."
"What's hard?"
"He died a few weeks after you left."
"How come nobody told me?"
"We couldn't find you."
"I'm sorry, George. Really, is there any way that I can make it up to you?"
"Come home, then. Ron's depressed." She heard him say, a plethora of memories of her life she had abandoned too long ago had suddenly rushed through her head, making her drop her phone. She picked it up quickly, ridding the thoughts on her mind.
"You know I can't do that!"
"Hermione, please, stop crying."
"I'm not crying!" She said, frustrated. She then realized that her words were muffled by her sobs. She grabbed her handkerchief and wiped her tears away, sniffing. "I'm not crying..." she repeated weakly.
"Please, just—come home."
"No, I can't do that. Goodbye George, I'm sorry, really, for Fred. I lost a big brother, as well. Please, don't tell anyone I called. Good day." She put the phone back to the receiver. She got up, and picked up her things. She wanted to go home. She asked Miranda to take Harry's calls and then she left.
While walking down the corridor, she heard someone calling her.
"Casey! Oy! Casey!"
"What do you want?"
"Coffee?"
"No, Harry. I'm going home. Get your own coffee."
"Is there something wrong?" Harry asked.
"Everything's wrong. Not like you'd care. I'm leaving. It's a holiday, anyway." She replied and got inside the elevator, ignoring the threats that were being sent to her.
---
Hermione walked to her flat. Now that she was standing in front of her door which was locked—it was weird because Draco and Ginny stayed home—and had a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob...
"Oh God." Hermione told herself, "No, no, no, no. They didn't—"
She sat on the floor, waiting for that to be over—which obviously won't for a few hours, she fiddled with her bracelet. Then took a look at the soccer ball charm that hung loosely on it. Fred. She fell into a pool of black...
Hermione dreamt of one of her most fond moments of Fred. Which made her mouth curve upwards into a grin.
"Hermione—here. Let's just say a token from a prince. Or brother-in-law." Fred said to her, nudging her on the ribs. Hermione took the charm gladly and engulfed him into a giant hug. "Happy Birthday, dear." He said quietly and received a kiss on the cheek from his future sister.
Future sister, he liked the sound of that.
"Thank you so much, Fred." She replied and looked around the hall. The Weasleys were staring at her happily, smiles were wide. And beaming back at her. Hermione smiled. This was one of her favorite memories.
"Why did you leave, Hermione? Everyone needed you." Asked Molly Weasley. All the other Weasleys stared at her and nodded in agreement. "What?" Hermione thought, "That didn't happen..."
"I... I..." she stuttered, letting a tear fall down her cheek. "FRED! Where are you going?" She called to Fred, who was walking away.
"I'm leaving you. Like what you did to me on my last days here." He smiled at her deviously, then was slowly disappearing from her sight.
"No! Fred! I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!"
"Come home..." The Weasleys told her, and along came her parents.
"NO!" Hermione screamed, getting up from her sleep. She looked up at the time. She had fallen asleep for 10 minutes.
"Casey!" Harry appeared, "What the hell are you doing out here?" He then eyed the door which was locked, and had a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob and smiled smugly to himself. "Nice."
"You are disgusting, what's so nice—ugh." She groaned as she heard something like a loud thump, by the wall, Harry only smiled to himself even wider. "Good going, Draco." He grinned at the door.
"Ew." Hermione said, standing up, turning around. "I think I'll go in."
"No!" Harry said, gasping her arm. They looked at each other for a millisecond as they felt electricity surge through their skin. Time refused to move at that point, leaving Hermione breathless, turning a bright shade of pink. Harry pretended that he didn't notice—but he did feel the electricity that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "You shouldn't. Come on, Casey, you'll just ruin the fun."
"But I just wanna go to my room and—Oh it's nothing." She whined, sinking back down to the floor. "Leave me alone, please?"
"Come on, go inside. I can't let you wait outside." He sighed heavily. Opening the door to his flat. She had never looked this troubled. There was a little voice in his head telling him that it was his fault that she was sitting on the floor, crying.
His fault, or maybe that Fred boy... He heard her shout his name throughout the hallway.
"Since when did you care?" Hermione asked, sniffing. Her face was drained of all color, the dream had frightened her—too much.
He only offered his hand to her, raising an eyebrow. She groaned, signaling that Harry had won this argument. She took his hand and stood up, trying her best to convince herself that it was static. Nothing else.
"Nice flat you have here." Hermione said, looking around at the flat which was twice as big as Draco's.
Harry took a bite of his apple, "Thanks, too expensive for you, anyway." He smirked as he saw through the corner of his eye that Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes. It is." She said sarcastically. Plopping down on the arm chair, rubbing her eyes.
"Well, don't contaminate anything. I'm off to take a shower. The interview a while ago was tiring." He said harshly and walked off to the bathroom. Hermione stayed frozen in her seat. Thinking about Fred... and the dream. Her phone was suddenly ringing, she bent to accept the call.
"Hermione, I'm sorry."
"What? George? What happened?" She asked, dropped the phone, then went outside the flat, walking towards the corridor.
Only to see 3 people in black suits charging for her.
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A/N:: tee hee hee
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Theghostchic