WARNING: You're in for a looonng chapter. Please refrain from cursing me until the end of the chapter. Thank you, and enjoy! ^_^
Official Chapter Dedication: Moonlitechild91 for being the most recent person to add me as a Favorite Author! THANK YOU!
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Dynamite In Our Souls
"It may please you to know, Hermione, that Draco will be in Shanghai for the day to deal with some business."
Hermione glanced sharply at Blaise while rearranging some files on her desk. "Does this mean he'll be back tomorrow?" It was difficult to keep the loathing out of her voice.
Blaise nodded with a rueful smile. "Well, I'd assume so, unless he meets with a horrible Flooing accident that causes various parts of his body to be scattered out into the universe."
Her eyes glinted at the beautiful thought. She thought she could hear a chorus of angels harmonizing in the background. "Yes, that would be most...unfortunate."
Blaise grimaced as he sat down to face her. "You know, Hermione, I don't mean any harm, but don't you think life would be a lot simpler if maybe you and Draco just got along?"
She laughed an unnaturally high-pitched laugh, one that was tinged with borderline hysteria. "Oh, Blaise, you poor thing! Is that the best argument you've come up with? Let me guess: you've already tried that spiel on Malfoy, but it failed to have any effect, so now you've turned to me! Really, where were you when Voldemort was around? You could have merely sat down with him and Harry and said in that diplomatic way of yours, 'Come now, Voldy, don't you think life would be a lot simpler if you and Harry just got along?'"
He scowled at her as she continued to laugh. "Snigger all you'd like, but I speak the truth!"
"He speaks the truth, ladies and gentlemen," Hermione announced theatrically to the walls as she solemnly placed a hand over her heart. "Blaise Zabini speaks nothing but the truth."
"Cut it out!"
She dropped her hand, and with it, her comedic facade. Her tone became abruptly icy. "You should understand, Blaise, that the hatred is the only thing Malfoy and I have in common. It is our sole mutual interest, and we are bound together by nothing more than a simmering blood-lust."
He frowned at her words and began drumming his fingers on her desk. "But if you just gave him a chance..."
"He has had too many chances!" Hermione exclaimed angrily. "That night in the club, seeing him again after all those years...I was prepared to give him a chance, to offer him an opportunity for forgiveness. And the minute he opened his mouth, what happened?" Her voice fell to a harsh whisper as she glared down at the innocent papers in her hands. "The same bloody nonsense, just like before! Don't you see, Blaise? The man never grew up! He never learned to let go, to live and let live. Even now, he is the same smarmy, pretentious, shallow git that he was back in Hogwarts. Forget about me befriending him, I don't know how you can even tolerate him!"
This fiery rant was met with silence, and Blaise watched her as she slammed the papers down, her cheeks red and her eyes blazing. Some hair had managed to escape from her bun and now hung in sorry disarray. He sighed, stood up, and walked over to where she was still standing with her hands curled into fists.
"Look, I know it's difficult," he began.
"You're damn right it's difficult," she interjected hotly. "You have no idea."
He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as she steadied her composure by taking deep breaths. "I do, really. I understand how easy it is to hate someone like Draco. He's belligerent, hot-headed, fiercely competitive, proud, and often oblivious to a fault. But I suppose," he added as an afterthought, "that that's what makes him so much like you."
Say WHAT?
Hermione struggled to contain her hurt as Blaise regarded her with a kind smile. "How can you...how can you say such a cruel thing?" she cried.
"You misunderstand," he explained patiently. "Those are the things that make Draco the dynamic, explosive person he is. Of course, all of those traits can be counted as vices, but if you see them from another angle, you'll realize how useful it can be to have such a personality. When I say you and he are alike, I mean that you both have dynamite in your souls! It is meant as a compliment, not as an insult."
"Merlin, you have an awful way of putting things sometimes," she muttered churlishly.
"Once upon a time, I tried to be tactful. Things went wrong, so I gave up. The end."
One side of Hermione's mouth quickly rose up into a smile, but it fell almost immediately. "You must genuinely like him to defend him like this."
He nodded very seriously and crossed his arms over his chest. "There are days when I want to kill him. Then there are days when he does something so out-of-character, I hardly know what to do with myself. Those are the days you should keep an eye out for, Hermione, because I promise that those days will forever change what you think of him."
Yeah, no bias in that statement whatsoever, right, Zabini?
She shrugged, unconvinced, and scribbled something down on a notepad before looking up and asking, "Oh, you said you had something to ask about the photo shoot from yesterday?"
"Ah, right. I wanted to know if you'd like to stick around tomorrow afternoon and review the photos before we blow them up this weekend for circulation. We'll be having both moving and stationary versions, and I thought you might want to help choose some good ones."
Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ha! No, thanks. You can count me out."
"So you won't come?"
"I may be many things, Zabini, but 'clinically insane' isn't one of them."
"So you won't?"
"It's not even a question of 'won't,' it's that I can't!" she snapped.
"Why?"
Hermione fished around for an excuse until she realized that she already had a perfectly plausible reason in her arsenal. "I, er...I have a date!"
Blaise raised his eyebrows in what seemed to be half skepticism and half surprise. "A date? A date with whom?"
"A man, as you may be shocked to hear."
"This is exactly what I meant about you and Draco being alike," Blaise grumbled quietly.
"What was that?"
"Er, nothing. So, seriously, who is this date of yours? I'm extremely curious."
Hermione waved a hand dismissively as she zeroed in on a stack of folders in front of her. "Probably not someone you'd know."
Hopefully he doesn't remember the name of the man who clobbered the living daylights out of Malfoy...
"Try me."
"Fine. His name is Eric Crawford. Happy?"
Blaise sprang up from his chair and gaped at her with eyes the size of Fanged Frisbees. "Eric Crawford? The man we, er, met at that nightclub? Son of Nicholas Crawford, the foremost pioneer of Magitecture? You're going out with him?"
"Yes, I am going out with Eric. Tomorrow, in fact. That's why I won't be here to review the photos."
He shook his head in disbelief and slowly made his way to the door. "Eric Crawford..." he murmured.
"Well, is that all right?" she called from behind him.
Blaise continued to appear troubled as he stepped out into the corridor. "Yes, yes, that's fine," he said distractedly with his brow furrowed. "You go on ahead with your date. We'll manage."
Hermione watched him as he strode off with his head bent and his hands in his pockets. Clearly he was deep in thought.
What on earth is he so riled up for?
THE NEXT DAY:
Hermione returned to her apartment in a jittery mood, anxious about her date that evening. Her working hours had passed uneventfully as she had not encountered that albino snake a single time, allowing her to peacefully file documents throughout the day. She now opened the door, yearning for some down-time, only to find that Andi had stormed in and already begun preparations for the big night. The bathwater was running, the day-old pile of dirty dishes had been cleared, and a red outfit that looked rather scandalous even from twenty feet away lay on her bed. A merry laugh spilled into her ears as Andi grabbed her by the waist and tugged her into the small hallway. Without even a moment to protest the blatant violation of privacy, Hermione was stripped down and shoved into the bathroom holding a matching pair of undergarments and a fluffy pink towel.
You would think she'd have some sense of personal space now that she's a grown woman.
Right. As if.
With a little sigh of contentment, Hermione stepped into her sweet-smelling bathtub and sank into the hot water, relishing the sudden tranquility that had enveloped her. She had hardly enjoyed herself for more than ten minutes when Andi began banging away on the door, yelling for Hermione to hurry up (but in slightly fouler language).
Groaning, Hermione drained the water, dried herself off, and put on the undergarments before walking into her bedroom where a certain force of nature was hard at work extracting fossilized makeup items from the depths of a mahogany dresser.
"Stop sulking!" Andi scolded as she reached into a drawer and tried to feel around for something worthwhile. "All right!" she exclaimed triumphantly as she pulled out an eyeshadow kit. "Hermione, babe, you've got all these treasures lying around. Didn't it ever occur to you to actually use them?"
Hermione morosely examined the spread of heinous colors and contraptions lying on her bed and shook her head. "No, Andi, I can honestly say it never has."
Andi planted her hands on her hips and glowered at Hermione who fought the urge to flee. "Now you listen to me, woman. I will not allow you to prevent me from dressing you up exactly as I like. If I hear one peep come out of your mouth, I will make sure to entertain Eric with stories of how you reacted when you found out what an 'orgy' was!"
OH MY HIPPOGRIFF, ANYTHING BUT THAT!
Hermione visibly blanched at the horrifying threat and bleated, "But you know I'm not comfortable with too much makeup and daring dresses..."
"Tough luck," the blonde said as she lifted the red dress up and held it out to the other girl. "Now shut up and put this on."
Helplessly, Hermione took the dress, slipped it on, and stared at her reflection.
Merlin, have mercy.
The dress flared open at her shoulders and the neckline dipped down to reveal what Hermione considered a disgraceful hint of cleavage. The satin fabric clung to her body and ended right below her knees, with (alas!) a slit up the back. In a way, the outfit was very "Muggle-from-the-1950's," but the neckline completely negated any sense of propriety she might have felt otherwise.
"Um, I feel like this small detail might have been overlooked, but Eric distinctly mentioned a date at a bookshop," Hermione said.
Andi whipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled impishly. "Oh, didn't I tell you? He sent another owl a while ago saying he wanted to change the location to a fancy downtown restaurant called 'Silver Cascades.'"
"What? Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
"I didn't think I had to. Now sit down, Herms, and let me see what we've got going on here."
When Hermione did not immediately comply, her friend shrieked, "Sit your bloody ass down!" This tactic worked very effectively, needless to say.
Who exactly is going out on the date here anyways?
An hour later, Hermione was standing in front of the majestic restaurant which was complete with bubbling fountains, impeccably dressed valets, and a jazzy ambiance. She could feel the butterflies flitting around like mad in her stomach, and for a few delusional seconds, she actually contemplated running away and staying at a hotel for the night instead.
Really, I mean, what's the worst that would happen? Eric would have an epiphany and realize that I am nothing more than a human manifestation of an awkward turtle, and Andi would find new reason to slaughter me in my sleep. And of course, if she murders me, I'll never have to see that dratted ferret's face ever again, so honestly, it's a win-win situation!
She had practically turned on her heel to begin the fleeing part when a shiny red sports car pulled up right next to her. Eric smoothly stepped out from behind the steering wheel, tossed his keys to a valet while making a joke, and then walked up to one very flustered Hermione Granger.
"Hello there, Hermione," he greeted her cheerfully as he took her hand and kissed it. "You look lovely."
Hermione felt incapable of doing anything apart from smiling bashfully at him, so grin like an idiot she did. And Merlin, but if he didn't clean up well... He was wearing crisp black dress pants and a white dress shirt that he'd left opened at the collar again, thus leaving Hermione to ogle that tanned expanse of his skin again…
Ah, grow up, dammit!
"Thank you," she replied, her voice on the verge of cracking. "You look pretty fine yourself."
Eric stared at her as her own words echoed through her ears. Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth and gawked at him, mortified. "Oh – oh my god, Eric, I did NOT mean to say that, oh my god…"
I must have just sounded like the cheapest whore in all of London! Dear Merlin, what is wrong with me?
He blinked at her once before bursting into hearty laughter. "Hermione, oh, Hermione," he chuckled as he placed his hand at the small of her back and gently nudged her towards the restaurant entrance. "That was possibly the best compliment I've ever received in my life. You don't have to apologize!"
"B-but I-"
Her words were cut short by a wink from him which just happened to stop her heart all over again. He grinned at her, showing off those dreamy dimples again, and led her inside where stood a pleasant-faced young woman carrying a pair of menus.
"Table for two under 'Crawford,' if you please," Eric said.
She bowed her head once in welcome before sweeping out an arm and saying, "If you would please follow me, sir and madam, I shall lead you to your table."
Eric nodded before turning to Hermione (who was still beet-red from her gaffe) and warmly smiling down at her. "Hey. Hey, look at me."
She refused to lift her eyes and kept her gaze trained on a nearby potted plant.
"Hermione, look at me."
Reluctantly, she twisted her head in his direction but still maintained her downward gaze. She gasped when his fingers suddenly appeared under her chin and tilted her face up towards him, the warmth of his hand doing delightful things to her skin.
His mellow hazel eyes seemed to speak in volumes even though his voice was soft. "Hermione, please don't be so embarrassed. I know you're probably tearing yourself up right now, thinking that I must be disgusted with you. In all honesty, I'm nervous as hell myself, and I believe it's only a matter of time before I make a complete fool of myself in front of you. So please…don't beat yourself up. The night's still young, and we have so much time left to mortify ourselves even more – why waste that time here in a restaurant's reception area?"
This managed to lure a shy smile out of Hermione, and Eric moved his hand from under her chin to a curl dangling by her cheek. "That one always seems to find its way out," he murmured as he tucked it behind her ear.
With flaming cheeks, Hermione took a step back and addressed his black leather shoes. "Er, we should probably go to our table now. I feel like the waitress has been waiting for an hour."
Sure enough, the waitress stood a little ways off with a patient smile, her arm still locked in that outstretched gesture.
Ouch, that must hurt a bit.
"May I lead you to your table now, sir?" the woman asked decorously.
"Yes, please," Eric said as he followed the waitress with Hermione at his side. "I'm absolutely starving for some food. Do you have any recommendations for the night?"
"Well," the woman said as the pair took their seats at a circular table lit by candlelight. "Every Friday, the chef introduces a new dish to the menu. As it is, today our special is a dessert called 'Lover's Kiss' which consists of an airy chocolate mousse drizzled with hot fudge and caramel, topped by a dash of whipped cream."
"Excellent!" Eric exclaimed. "I'm sure we'd love to try this…Lover's Kiss." He shot Hermione a devilish grin as he said this, and she nearly fell out of her chair from surprise.
"I'll leave you to peruse the menu then, sir."
"Yes, thank you."
Relax, Hermione, relax. You're at a top-notch restaurant with an angelic man flirting with you. This is just about you and him. No one else. Nothing is going to happen. Just keep calm and carry on.
"So, Hermione, see anything you like?"
Hermione set her menu aside and let a sultry smile play on her scarlet lips as she boldly gazed directly at him over the candles. "Why, yes, Eric, I do."
I am woman, hear me roar.
…
Draco wearily laid his head back against his chair and closed his eyes to think. The business meeting in Shanghai had gone well enough, but now there was a hitch: the head honcho of the main syndicate had taken a great liking to Draco, insisting that his own daughter would love to have dinner with the "exquisite young man." Draco had attempted to smoothly turn down the man's request, but had merely found himself saddled with taking the daughter out for dinner somewhere in London. It wasn't that the girl was ugly or an utter imbecile; he just wasn't interested. It had been a while since he'd gotten some peace and quiet, but he supposed that chaos was nothing more than a side effect of being remarkably handsome and successful in a world full of sex-crazed females.
He had just stood up to Floo back to his manor when Blaise materialized in the fireplace. The man hurried out from under the mantle, not bothering to dust off the ashes from his shoulders, and thrust a piece of paper at Draco, saying, "All right, listen. You're going to a restaurant called 'Silver Cascades' in downtown London. It's a fancy place that Theodore recommended to me a while ago, and a friend there owes me a favor anyway, so just go there."
Draco read the address of the restaurant on the slip in his hand. "But I've already told Mei Lin that we'll be meeting somewhere else."
Blaise shook his head quickly. "No, don't worry, that's already been taken care of. Just go get dressed for dinner and then get to the restaurant within twenty minutes. Mei Lin knows to meet you there, so you don't have to worry about picking her up or anything."
Draco frowned suspiciously. Something was not right about the way his friend was acting. "Hey, Zabini, are you all right? You seem a little out of it."
"I'm fine. Just go get ready."
Draco continued to frown, but stepped past Blaise into the fireplace and Flooed to the manor. Twenty minutes later, he was idly waiting at the restaurant's front doors for his date. He had impatiently flicked his sleeve back to check his watch when there was the sound of someone Apparating next to him. He looked aside to see Mei Lin gracefully approach him with a demure expression on her porcelain face. She was wearing a long, flowing gray gown with a slit going high up her thigh, and her wrists and earlobes were adorned with pearls.
Draco slowly raked his eyes along her pale skin, hoping she would be properly scandalized and abandon him, allowing him to go home and enjoy a bit of overdue solitude. Despite his blatant lack of manners, the girl merely tittered at the attention and grabbed hold of his arm, tugging him inside the restaurant.
A cheerful waiter greeted them and showed them to their seats. Draco, already extremely bored, opted to rip his side of the tablecloth to shreds for the next two hours after placing their orders, but his date had an unfortunate penchant for making conversation.
"So, Mr. Malfoy," she said in an annoyingly dainty voice. "Have you lived here in England all your life?"
"Yes."
"It's a lovely country, I must say. It's exactly the way the media portrays it."
"Mm."
"I don't travel outside of China much. I often tell my father that I wish to see the world, but he claims that a woman such as me cannot handle so much." She paused after she said this, expectantly waiting for Draco to say something charming or witty. He decided to disappoint her.
"Perhaps your father is right."
Her winsome expression fell a bit, but she valiantly continued to blabber on. "It bothers me how my father can be so narrow-minded sometimes. It is as if he does not realize it is the twenty-first century. I tell him that women nowadays are achieving such great things, but he remains deaf to my words."
And for good reason, you parrot. I get the feeling you'd keep talking even if I walked away right now.
"I mean, look at all the things modern women have accomplished. Countless advancements in potions, witchcraft, and magical theory. And let's not forget, the most vicious dark army of our time was vanquished in part by Hermione Granger, the epitome of a successful woman."
Draco lifted his head up to stare incredulously at Mei Lin, conveniently ignoring the reproachful glares of the waiter who'd seen him shredding the tablecloth. "Excuse me, but did you just say 'Granger?'"
She nodded eagerly at him and cried, "Oh, but I forgot! You went to school with her, didn't you?"
"Ah, yes, we were…er, dear friends."
Liar, liar, balls on fire…
"You are so lucky to be connected to her. I remember reading about her in the newspaper all the time, how she managed to do so much under such savage circumstances. She was and still is one of my biggest heroes."
Unless you want to be covered in projectile vomit, I suggest you close your mouth.
"Is that so?" he responded snobbishly. "I didn't realize people kept up with her like that."
"Are you joking?" Mei Lin asked with raised eyebrows. "She is nothing short of a celebrity, at least for the wizarding community in China. Our culture is grounded in honor, commitment, and solidarity, and Hermione Granger has upheld those tenets despite whatever trials she has faced. We admire her and are indebted to her for both warding off evil and being such a paragon of virtue."
Let's see, if I take my fork and slit my wrists horizontally, I'll eventually die of blood loss. But I heard that you die faster if you cut vertically, so…
A wicked thought crept into his head. "Actually, you know, I have the…privilege of seeing Granger regularly."
"Really?" she gasped.
Fan-bloody-tastic, Draco. You take a girl out on a date and regale her with stories about Granger. You really are the life and soul of the fucking party.
"Yes, indeed. She's actually a-"
Mei Lin suddenly shot up and stared off somewhere behind Draco. She began breathing very hard, and scrabbled around on the table to grab her handbag. "Oh…oh my…"
"Mei Lin?"
She glanced at him apologetically before hurrying to push in her chair. "I'm so sorry. I hate to leave you like this, but I…I just saw…"
And without further ado, she ran off, leaving Draco glowering at the candles in front of him. Part of him wanted to sit right there and eat all the damn food and save her the bill, but the other half of him wanted to go find out what the big deal was. Grumbling furiously to himself, he tossed his napkin aside and stormed away from his table to where Mei Lin was animatedly chatting with a brown-haired woman.
Wait. Brown hair.
This is your chance, Draco! Slit your wrists now and save yourself the trouble for later!
"Mr. Malfoy!" Mei Lin called, her face glowing with excitement. "Come over here, and see who I've found!"
At her words, the brunette whirled around in her seat and met his defeated gaze with one of unmasked consternation. "Malfoy?" she hissed in disbelief, as if hoping he was just a figment of her imagination.
He smirked at her, half-expecting her to take the knife by her hand and drive it into his jugular. "The one and only."
Then, a man Draco had not yet noticed got to his feet and said, "Malfoy?"
"I thought we'd established that already, Mister…" That was when Draco actually looked at the man and recognized that tanned bugger from the nightclub. "Well, well, well," he said scornfully. "If it isn't Lord Overprotective himself. Fancy meeting you here."
Mei Lin, not seeming to register the tension in the air, gaily explained, "Miss Granger has graciously asked us to come and sit with her, Mr. Malfoy."
"I did not realize Mr. Malfoy was your date, Mei Lin," Granger said in a rather choked way.
"Yes, you see, my father insisted I spend some time in England with Mr. Malfoy to get a feel for some Western life. And in fact, I was just telling Mr. Malfoy about how much I admire you when I noticed you sitting here!"
Granger weakly smiled at her ardent fan. "It really is amazing that you think of me so highly. I don't know that I deserve all your praise."
Exactly my thoughts. Bravo, Granger. Who'd have thought you'd excel at Legilimency?
The orange-looking creature next to Granger made an odd coughing noise before saying, "Ah, well. I suppose we ought to make some room for you two." He swiftly cleared enough space for two seats to squeeze in. "Have a seat."
Draco soon found himself wedged in between Mei Lin and Granger, much to his displeasure. Of course, if it were up to him, he wouldn't even bother sitting with this bunch in the first place, but he was not to royally piss off the daughter of a business tycoon.
"Mr. Malfoy was just telling me about how good friends you two were in Hogwarts!" Mei Lin chattered, failing to notice the subtly alarmed looks Draco was shooting her.
Yup. Screwed to the bone.
Granger violently gripped her fork and shot daggers at Draco. "Is that so?" she asked sweetly, her tone a full contradiction of her composure.
"Well, Granger, you can't deny we've had some pretty wild times, eh?"
Crawford coughed into his napkin as Granger stabbed a piece of meat with her fork. "No," she agreed in that fearsome, saccharine way. "I certainly cannot."
Mei Lin dropped her spoon with a clatter and eagerly leaned in towards Granger. "Oh, please, Miss Granger! Tell me about some of your school days with Mr. Malfoy!"
Granger sighed and replied with a low laugh, "Hm, perhaps I should. What do you think, Malfoy? Should I entertain these two with some Hogwarts memories?"
Crawford sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I'd definitely like to hear this."
Granger smiled at him before gazing inquiringly at Draco again. "So?"
"Do as you'd like, Granger," Draco growled. "Just remember that I'm sitting right next to you in case you feel the urge to slander me in front of my lovely date." With that, he smoothly took Mei Lin's hand and kissed her knuckles, making sure to exaggerate the gesture in front of Granger and her dim-witted boyfriend. Mei Lin responded with yet another girlish giggle.
"Likewise, Malfoy," Granger retorted as she neatly slid over to Crawford and rested her head on his shoulder. The bugger seemed slightly flustered but wasn't able to hide his happiness about this new development.
What a sucker.
"So tell me, Miss Granger. Was Mr. Malfoy really a courageous, brilliant young boy? People say he was, but I want to hear your take on it!"
"I don't know if I'd call him courageous," Granger answered with a smirk. "If I recall correctly, Malfoy nearly wet his pants when a troll entered our school during our first year."
Both Mei Lin and Crawford chortled behind their napkins as Draco acerbically asked, "Staring at me that hard, were you?"
"Please, don't be so full of yourself. You just happened to stand out because of your greasy hair and snow-white skin."
Draco angrily opened his mouth to retaliate, but the bitch cut across, exclaiming, "Oh, and then third year was when I achieved a momentous personal victory!"
Don't. You. Dare.
"I was outside with Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter when Malfoy and his pair of goons came along. Malfoy said some foul things and I...I got so furious, I completely let loose and punched him in the face!"
Mei Lin and Crawford shared a second of shocked silence before dissolving into gales of laughter. Granger joined in during the uproar for a while before raising her glass in Draco's direction for a mock-toast. "To bruised egos," she declared scathingly.
He smirked and raised his glass accordingly. "And to bruised knees as well."
Her eyes widened in confusion. "What do you-"
Maintaining that trademark smirk, Draco swiftly launched his foot under the table and kicked her in the shin. He watched gleefully as she winced in pain and struggled to keep her glass upright.
Whoops. Clumsy me.
"Hey, now, what's this, Hermione?" Crawford asked as he very determinedly ignored Draco. "Toasting without us?"
"Ooh, I'll make the toast!" Mei Lin offered with unnecessary enthusiasm. "A toast," she said solemnly as she stood, "to unbreakable friends! May we all enjoy as true a camaraderie as you two." She moved forward to clink her glass against a dumbfounded Granger's and an exasperated Draco's. Even Crawford appeared to be at a loss for words at such a travesty of the truth.
By Salazar, she's really an idiot, isn't she?
"But I do have a question," Mei Lin added once she had sat down. "Miss Granger, why do you and Mr. Malfoy address each other by your last names?"
Granger grinned and said in an impressive show of bullshittery, "It's just one of our personal habits, Mei Lin. After all, every unbreakable friendship has some odd quality that sets it apart, don't you think, Malfoy?"
Her words were accompanied by a well-placed blow to Draco's knee that nearly brought tears to his eyes. Draco feigned a short coughing fit to hide his wheezes of agony and seriously considered smashing his plate of pasta into her infuriatingly smug face. After what felt like hours, he managed to nod curtly before rising and saying, "Excuse me, Mei Lin, but would you mind if I borrowed Granger for a bit? We'll be right back."
He saw Crawford turn anxiously to Granger with a worried look, but Granger patted the Neanderthal on the back and said, "Don't worry, Eric. Malfoy knows better than to mess with me."
Yes, I do. Why mess with you when I can just kill you and be done with it?
Draco grabbed Granger by the wrist and tugged her off into a narrow hallway at the back of the restaurant. He glanced around to check if anyone was around before roughly dragging her into the farthest room and shutting the door behind him. Too late, he realized that the room was entirely pitch-black and futilely searched for a light switch.
"I don't suppose," a familiar voice snarled by his ear, "that you could possibly reopen that door, could you?"
Draco turned and jiggled the door knob, even pounding against the door a few times to loosen it with his shoulder, but it was to no avail.
"It's locked," he croaked.
A humorless laugh echoed behind him. "Might I suggest you use your wand? I didn't think it necessary to bring mine."
He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand. "I don't have it."
"Damn it!" she shrieked. "I will not rot in some supply closet with you during my date, Malfoy! There's a limit to the amount of bullshit you can take from one person!"
"You think I want to be stuck in here with you, Granger?" he roared. "I'd rather lie in a coma than have to breathe the same air as you!"
The sound of cracking knuckles filled the air. "That can be arranged," she said ominously.
Draco felt a mild wave of panic hit him as he realized that he had no clue where Granger was standing. "Okay, shut up for a second, all right? We need to think. First we have to see if anyone can hear us."
Granger immediately flew forward and began slapping her hands against the door, screaming and shouting for help. Draco yelled alongside her for the next three minutes until he could feel his throat prickling from overexertion.
With a sigh of resignation, Draco slumped to the floor with his back against the wall. "Give it up, Granger. We're going to be here for a while until one of those two idiots notices we've been gone too long."
He heard her slam against the door one more time out of pure frustration before distancing herself from him. "Merlin knows how they'll find us," she complained. "You dragged me into the most remote place possible. I doubt the restaurant even uses this room anymore!"
"They'll have to check here eventually. Someone must have seen us come this way."
"There was also a back exit right next to this room, you moron! They'll just think we left on our own accord when they check down here."
"Well, I refuse to destroy my voice by screaming bloody murder any longer," he said staunchly. "If you want to pop a blood vessel somewhere after shrieking like a banshee, be my guest."
"Ugh! This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" he cried indignantly. "If you hadn't been spouting off with your bloody school stories, none of this would have happened!"
"And if you hadn't let your freaking girlfriend wander around, this whole damn situation could have been avoided!"
"Oh please, if you weren't such a bitch, I wouldn't always want to hurl Unforgivables at you!"
"Well, if you hadn't been born, my life wouldn't have been such a fucking hell!"
Draco felt his insides wither away at this final blow. As the fiery words reverberated inside the room, he found himself being taken back to a day of his life as a five year-old.
FLASHBACK:
A broken wand. Sounds of weeping. A pair of gnarled hands. The flutter of soft robes.
"See what your son has done, Narcissa!" The man sounded like thunder unleashed.
"He didn't mean to, Lucius! He's only a child!"
"Only a child? I don't care how old he is! No son of mine could be such a degenerate to snap his own father's wand in half!"
The weeping continued. "He was only playing around, dear. We can get you a new one, Lucius. It will serve you the same."
"It will never be the same, you stupid whore. The wand chooses the wizard for a lifetime, not for simply a few decades!"
Footsteps growing louder. Shadows looming overhead. A shriek piercing his eardrums as he is wrenched aside.
"No, Lucius! Don't hurt him, your own child!"
"He is no son of mine."
"Lucius, it was just an accident. Just an accident..."
"Shut up! You defend him blindly, Narcissa! I tell you, this boy will bring us nothing but shame and dishonor. We should have abandoned him when we had the chance!"
"How can you say such a thing about your own son? If he hadn't been born, our lives would have had no purpose!"
The sound of a slap. A cry of pain. Hands drawing him close against a heaving chest. Arms forming a makeshift shield. Whimpering. Silence.
The words struck him like he was being whipped. "If he hadn't been born, Narcissa, our lives would not be the hell they are now."
Sobs. Sounds of footsteps. Door hinges squeaking.
"And the Dark Lord is our purpose, Narcissa. Do not let me hear you say otherwise again lest I teach your darling son some new tricks. Then the next thing he breaks will be your neck."
Tears soaking his shirt. A sound of disgust. A woman wailing. A door slamming shut.
Darkness.
END FLASHBACK
"Malfoy? Malfoy, hello?"
Draco shook himself to clear his head. He must have dozed off somehow.
"Malfoy, say something!"
He was surprised to hear the hint of panic in her voice. "I'm right here."
There was a hesitant pause. "Are...are you all right?"
"What? What do you mean?"
Can she sense something?
"You just sound...different. Hold on."
There was the sound of fabric moving against the hard floor.
"Malfoy! Don't stop talking."
"What?"
"Keep talking."
"About what?"
"Anything. Just keep talking so that I can find you. Tell me about Mei Lin."
"Erm, well, she's the daughter of a Chinese business tycoon. I was supposed to meet up with her in order to get into the family's good graces. It'll supposedly be instrumental in securing-"
Draco froze. She had reached out with a hand and attempted to feel around for him. Now her fingers grazed his cheek, and the sensation caused goosebumps to erupt across his skin.
"Ah, there you are," she sighed in relief as she settled down next to him. He could feel her hip lightly touching his. "Now tell me. What's wrong?"
"Why the sudden interest, Granger? Afraid I'll murder you in the dark if you say something out of line?"
She laughed out loud. "Forgive me, Malfoy, but I do not think you have what it takes to kill me with your bare hands. Bore me to death with your arrogant stories, perhaps. But take my life? I doubt it."
"Don't tempt me. I might secretly be a psychotic criminal on the loose with a taste for frizzy-haired captives."
She elbowed him in the ribs. "It's not frizzy. It's wavy with some ridiculously annoying curls. There's a difference."
"Are we actually having a conversation right now, Granger?"
He felt her lift her body to face him. "Good lord," she said with honest disbelief. "I do believe we are. But, Malfoy?"
"Hm?"
"Did you fall asleep for a while back there? I was calling you and you didn't respond. I thought you'd collapsed like before."
He thought about the memory in his dream. "Yes, I'd just slipped off a bit. I'm not hurting anywhere."
Except for this small pain in my chest. Because you see, it hurts to remember.
"Was it a nightmare?"
"What? Er...no."
Without warning, she reached out and touched his cheek. Then she raised her hand to his forehead and left it there for a while before moving down his face to take his pulse. He had no choice but to sit still despite the supreme discomfort he had begun to feel.
"Your heart rate's elevated," she announced after a minute. "And you've been perspiring a bit. Either you're ill again or you've just had a bad dream. Considering you haven't fallen yet, I don't think you're in for another bout of the sickness, but I do think that there is something wrong." Her voice became very soft and she seemed to edge in closer. "Tell me."
"Why does it matter, Granger? We're not friends. We're not anything except for enemies and unlucky coworkers. Maybe you should just mind your own business."
He heard her sharp intake of breath as she moved away from him. "You're right," she replied crossly. "We don't mean anything to each other. I shouldn't force you to talk to me. I apologize for thinking we could be normal with each other for once in our lives."
Her irritation was practically tangible. Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair once, wondering what he was about to get himself into. He didn't know why he felt like he had to humor her, but for some reason, he didn't have the strength of mind to antagonize her anymore in one night.
"I, er...I did have a bad dream."
This was met by silence. He took it as a sign to continue.
"I remembered something awful from my childhood."
"What brought it on? What made you think of it?" she asked curiously.
He sighed again and questioned his level of sanity. "It was...something you said, I think."
That's right, Draco. Way to sound like a fucking sensitive prick from a two-pence melodrama. Why don't you just offer to bathe her in your waterfall of tears already?
She scooted closer to him. "What? Something I said?"
This was a really bad idea.
"Er, yeah. You know what, let's just forget I said anything. I don't want to have to sit here and listen to you yell at me for the next thirty minutes if I say anything wrong, which is very likely." His voice sounded odd, even to his own ears.
He could feel her back at his side. "No, you have to tell me," she demanded. "I need to know." When he didn't reply, he heard her exhale slowly and imagined the cogs in her brain whirring in action. "Oh no," she said finally. "Was it the thing I said about you being born and making my life hell?"
Oh yeah, go ahead and say it again in the exact same order so that I can relive the awesome experience of being told that my existence spells disaster.
He made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, mentally begging for someone to find them at that instant.
"Malfoy..."
Draco felt a warm hand cover his own and almost flinched. What was it with this woman and physical contact? What disturbed him the most, however, was that he didn't exactly dislike the feeling at all.
Yup, Draco, my boy, you need to get laid. And this is no time to be choosy – just pick anything with estrogen coursing through its body and have at it. We must have you back in a sensible state of mind at any cost before you wreak more havoc.
"Malfoy, I...I didn't mean that. It was just something I said out of childish anger. I shouldn't have said that."
Still entirely too aware of her hand, he asked in bewilderment, "Are you actually apologizing? To me?"
Her hand shifted slightly, but for any number of unexplainable reasons, she did not remove it. "I know, I know, I'm shocked as well. But I guess for the first time, you deserve an apology from me. Malice has its limits, and I paid no heed to the lines that I crossed when I said that to you. I guess...I guess I just didn't think you had regular feelings like the rest of us." She sounded almost ashamed as she said it.
He stared blindly at the ground in front of him, wishing for a light so that he could see her face as she fought to humble herself in front of him, her most hated foe.
But I don't owe her any kindness.
"Yeah, I'm human just like everybody else, Granger. It's a stupefying concept, isn't it?" he remarked harshly.
Her fingers curled around his hand as she softly said, "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I should know better. I'm supposed to be a mature adult, a role model for our generation. Yet here I am, firing insults at a man who, for all I know, has changed in some small way."
How did we get to this? How did Granger end up saying sorry to me? Am I actually hallucinating?
"Why are you doing this, Granger? Why are you being so..." He could find no adequate word to fill in the blank.
She sighed so close to his ear, he felt a few locks of his hair sway against his temple. He waited for her to answer him, but she sat there quietly, either unwilling or unable to offer him a response. At long last, after a span of hundreds of heartbeats, she spoke.
"I'm doing this because I think you deserve a second chance, Malfoy. I'm doing this because...maybe there's more to you than I thought. Maybe you're not the man I thought you were."
...
Hi, everyone! Sorry if the long chapter annoyed you, but I kind of felt like spewing it all out today, so this is the result of my musings. As always, please, please, PLEASE leave me reviews so that I can get your invaluable feedback! I really appreciate it when people take the time to give me a piece of their minds, and I welcome all criticism and praise (the latter slightly more so, hehe!) Again, love to all my dedicated readers who intend on sticking through with this story. You guys keep the dynamite in my soul alive. ;)
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