Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.
Hermione sat beside Draco as he ate in comfortable silence, the sound of the ocean to her right and Draco eating to her left. When he finished his steak and kidney pie, Draco set down the container on the table and sat with Hermione. After a while, Hermione reached across Draco and picked up the book he had been reading. She read the title and smiled.
"So how was it?" she asked him. He pondered for a minute as if collecting his thoughts.
"It was really good," he told her, "it made me think."
"A good book always does."
"Have you ever been to America?" he asked her.
"No."
"I think I'd like New York City. It sounds interesting. Lots of things to do."
"I've seen pictures of Central Park in the winter. It looks really pretty all covered with snow."
"Were there ducks at the pond?" She thought for a minute.
"I can't remember," she told him. "You know," she said, "I can see why you liked 'Catcher in the Rye' so much."
"Why is that, Granger?"
"To a certain level you can identify with Holden." She didn't go into further detail but Draco seemed to understand where she was coming from.
"So how're your parents?" he asked her.
"Fine," she answered. "I, er, told them, about everything."
"Yeah, I figured."
"How?" she asked.
"You told me your mum sent you home with dinner for me. How else would she have known to send me dinner?"
"Oh, yeah. I suppose so," she said. "I stopped by your flat," she added. Before he could ask she told him that the place was spotless, no signs of Death Eaters whatsoever.
"That's good I suppose."
"I packed some of your things for you. There's bags upstairs in your room. Clothes and whatnot. And I stopped by my flat too, so you'll see Crookshanks running around."
"That mangey beast is still alive? Wasn't he like a thousand when you first got him?"
"You leave Crookshanks alone!" she said, playfully hitting him on the arm. They were quiet again for a while.
"Granger, you were a little girl once," he said.
"And?"
"Well, my mother used to say that all little girls ever wanted was a 'happily ever after'. Was that true for you as well?" he asked, turning to her.
"Why do you ask?" she wondered.
"No reason," he said leaning back, "just thinking out loud." Hermione leaned back with him.
"Little girls hear tales of faraway lands, evil queens, and princes in disguise coming to their rescue, and they dream of living happily ever after. But as you get older you learn."
"What did you learn, Granger?" he asked her. She sighed.
"When happily ever after falls apart, you pick yourself up and you keep on going, even if it hurts like hell." He nodded, absorbing her words. "Though, I'll admit," she said as she brought her knees to her chest, "I used to imagine my Prince Charming coming and sweeping me off my feet. Dancing together in the woods with the birds and the–"
"Birds?" he asked her. She quickly turned her reddened face away from him.
"You've never seen 'Sleeping Beauty', you'd understand!"
"Of course," he said. Hermione could tell he was trying to hold his laughter so as not to completely embarrass her.
"What about you?" she asked him. "What was your happily ever after like?"
"I never thought about it. I just did what was expected of me. I never considered a happy ending, really."
"Well, what about now? You have a second chance," she told him.
"Granger, I'm alive. There's my happily ever after. Believe-it-or-not, I'm grateful to just be here."
"Well, good," she said.
"So," he said with a slightly wicked smirk, "tell me about this Sleeping Beauty." Hermione shook her head and laughed.
"There's a book of fairy tales around here somewhere."
"I'd much rather you tell me now," he said. She sighed dramatically.
"A long time ago, in a land far, far away, lived a beautiful princess."
"Was her name Hermione?" he asked cheekily.
"No, Draco! Her name was not Hermione!"
"Then what was it?"
"Aurora," Hermione stated.
"Like Aurora Borealis?" he asked her. Hermione started laughing and shook her head. "What? It's a perfectly legitimate question!"
"You would relate it back to the sky wouldn't you? Well, in any case, she was named after the Roman goddess of dawn because she filled her parents' lives with sunshine or something like that. And there were fairies who gave her gifts, you see."
"Like what?"
"She was given the gift of beauty."
"How superficial," he said.
"Yes, well, she was also given the gift of song."
"What!"
"The gift of song," she repeated, thinking he didn't hear her.
"I know what you said, Granger. I just think that's stupid."
"Why?"
"The gift of song sucks. There were a million things better that fairy could have come up with. What's so special about song?"
"It's what led the prince, her true love, to her! She was singing in the woods, dancing–"
"With the birds?" he interrupted.
"Yes, Draco, with the birds. And as she sang and danced her voice carried out and led Prince Philip to her."
"And they lived happily ever after?"
"Well, no," Hermione explained. "You see, she left and then she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel and fell asleep and so did the whole kingdom. And the curse was only lifted when her true love, Prince Philip, found her in the top most tower of the castle and kissed her. The curse was removed and they danced together at the end, and they..."
"Lived happily ever after?"
"Precisely."
"Well," he said, "not a bad story as far as fairy tales go." He shook his head, "but I still think the gift of song sucks."
"What do you mean the gift of song sucks?" she asked him. "You play the piano!"
"So? It was no gift, Granger. I spent years and years practicing. It was dedication for me, not a gift some chubby little fairy granted."
"Oh, there's no point in arguing over this. The gift of song is what brought her love to her. The end," Hermione explained somewhat frustrated.
"That's not the end. If it was true love, like you say, they would have been brought together eventually, regardless of her voice," he emphasized.
"Draco," she sighed, "you are reading far too much into this. It is a children's fairy tale."
"I understand that, Granger," he told her. She thought the subject was dropped after a moments worth of silence. "All I'm saying is, I don't see how that fairy could have thought the gift of song was such a great idea." At this point Hermione pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it. "Fine, the subject is now dropped."
"Thank you," she said placing the pillow back in its place. "You're exhausting sometimes, do you know that?"
"Ah, one of my many perks," he said smiling. "Come on, time to get you to bed, Granger. You're starting to get a little cranky," he joked. Draco got up from the couch and offered his hand to Hermione which she gladly took. She did have Healer training the next day. Draco started to lead her out of the library, though he didn't let go of her hand, not that Hermione minded, or even noticed, for that matter.
The next morning Hermione woke early, showered, dressed, kicked Crookshanks off the bed so she could make it, and then went downstairs to find Draco already in the kitchen reading a Muggle newspaper.
"Morning, Granger. Sleep well? Coffee's made."
"Good morning, yes, and thank you," she answered all at once as she poured a large cup of coffee. She took a sip and savored it. She had to admit it, he knew how to make a damn good cup of coffee.
"You hungry?" he asked her looking up from his paper.
"No," she declined, "I can't really eat heavy early in the mornings. I usually have something around my morning break at the hospital," she explained, "some Marmite on toast. Where'd you get a Muggle paper from?"
"I passed by a news stand on my way back," he told her, folding up the paper and handing it to her.
"Back from where?" she said taking the paper and skimming the front page.
"I went running this morning." Hermione found this a little hard to believe, seeing as how it was just past seven and Draco was fully dressed.
"So you woke up at what, five this morning?"
"Four-thirty, Granger. I never really did sleep much. If I get too much sleep then I'm groggy the whole day. As long as I've five solid hours of rest a night I'm good to go."
"So what else did you do this morning?"
"Well let's see. I woke up, put the rest of my clothes away, thank you for bring my things over by the way,"
"You're welcome," she said.
"Stretched," he continued.
"Of course, cause with out properly stretching you could hurt yourself during your run."
"Precisely. Went running for an hour, got a paper, came back here, showered, dressed, made my bed,"
"You made your own bed?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes Granger, I did. I never had to do it growing up but after, everything," he said, "I realized that no one was going to do it for me. It's something that needs to be done everyday and I do it first thing in the morning when I get back from my run. That way," he explained, "the bed airs out, you see. And then I came down here, put on the coffee and just finished reading the newspaper."
"Very impressive," Hermione said. "You get more done before seven than most people. So what are you going to do today?"
"I'll probably read this book I picked up last night," he said as he pulled a book out of his back pocket, "'Murder on the Orient Express'. It looks potentially not boring and thought it would be nice to sit outside and read."
"Oh, that's a good one," Hermione told him as she flipped through the newspaper. "The movie is really good too. Sometimes books make more sense after you've seen them."
"Really?"
"Yeah, we could watch it one day if you like. There's a lot of old movie stars in it."
"Like who?" he asked with interest.
"Um, Michael York, Sean Connery," she said.
"The guy who played James Bond?" he interrupted.
"Yes. Ingrid Bergman,"
"Who's she?" Draco asked.
"She was in 'Casablanca', one of the most romantic movies ever, ever made. And Richard Widmark is in it too."
"Casablanca?"
"No, 'Murder on the Orient Express'," she said as she shook her head.
"The guy from that 'I Love Lucy Episode'!" he asked excitedly.
"Yup," she told him. He poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back across from Hermione.
"What about you, Granger? What's your normal weekday like?"
"Well, I'll be at the hospital all morning, have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Harry and Ron, more Healer training, then back here."
"And what time shall I expect you?"
"I get off work at five so a little after that," she told him checking her watch.
"Want anything special for dinner?"
"I'm not a fussy eater, Draco."
"Alright," he told her.
"I've gotta be going, actually," she said as she got up from the table. "Do you need anything from Diagon Alley?" Draco told Hermione that he didn't, and that he'd lived this long without anything from Diagon Alley so why he would suddenly need anything now was beyond him, but thanks anyways, and to have a good day.
Hermione arrived back at Mariner's Cove that night to find Draco in kitchen, though it didn't appear that he spent his entire day there. In fact, he looked, darker. His skin wasn't that pale color anymore, but it glowed slightly. Was Draco Malfoy, gasp, tan? Hermione then remembered him mentioning sitting outside and reading.
"Have a productive day, Draco?"
"Actually yes. I read that book and I couldn't put it down. I just sat outside all day. My skins never seen that much sun before." She laughed.
"I was going to say you looked different. What did you make?"
"Fish and chips."
"Sounds good to me," Hermione said as she began to set the table for the two of them.
"How was Healer training today?" he asked her.
"Fine," she said, "there was this one guy who came in. Apparently, he wanted to see if you could Imperio yourself, and cast the spell on himself as he stood in front of the mirror. He was pissed and wreaked of alcohol when he was brought in."
"Someone that idiotic should be wiped from the gene pool. He didn't happen to have red hair and a last name that sounded like Weasel, did he?" She sighed.
"No, Draco, it wasn't Ron or any other Weasley for that matter."
"So how are the gruesome twosome? You said you were having lunch with them today." She sighed again.
"They're fine. Actually, Harry was–"
"Granger," he interrupted as he served her, "I asked to be polite. I don't actually care, you see. So after you say, 'they're fine' it ends."
"Fine," she said dramatically as she began to eat.
"How is it?" he asked her as he began to eat. Probably being polite again. Hermione'd let him have it.
"Fine," she said innocently.
"Oh, come on, Granger," he said.
"It's fine. I'm being polite, you see. Then it ends."
"Touché."
They were both quiet for a while until Crookshanks came into the kitchen. Hermione softened up when she saw Draco give Crookshanks a bit of fish. It seemed like they had taken a liking to one another, and Crookshanks was a very good judge of character after all. After dinner Hermione cleaned the kitchen up rather quickly with the use of a cleaning spell before she and Draco went to watch "The Godfather" together. He had mentioned to her once how much he enjoyed the book. Hermione began to get tired towards the end, but Draco let her nod off on his shoulder without saying anything; he didn't even push her off which was nice, as he did have a rather comfortable shoulder.
"What do you say, Granger?" Draco asked as he got up and offered her his hand.
"Time for bed," she said, gladly accepting. Just like the night before, he began to lead her out of the room, not letting go of her hand. Hermione decided that she didn't mind tonight. In fact, it actually felt kind of nice, not that she would ever admit that to anyone (well, maybe Crookshanks, but he knew how to keep secrets thankfully). They walked in silence towards the door until Draco stopped short, causing Hermione to bump into him.
"Did you hear something?" he whispered.
"No, it's probably Crookshanks somewhere causing mischief," she said lightly. Draco didn't move. "I think you've been reading too many mysteries, Draco. I'll find that book of fairy tales before I leave tomorrow," she told him. "Draco, what's the mat–" she started to ask.
Before Hermione could finish Draco pushed her down to the floor and covered her body with his, holding her tightly. Hermione couldn't see, as Draco had her head covered with his arm and facing the floor, but she did hear more than one set of footsteps entering the room. Hermione tried not to panic, though she would have felt better had she been able to reach her wand. She could feel Draco's heart racing on her back. How did they find them at Mariner's Cove?
Author's Note – It took me forever to figure out the last bit. I just couldn't decide how to end it (and now I'm tired so forgive any typos I may have made). A bit of humor, a bit of drama, a bit of a cliff hanger, just the way I like it. And the line's not working again, so forgive my lack of dividers (you guys are smart enough to figure it out though).
Central Park is really nice in the winter (the best was when they had "The Gates" a few years back, and if you don't know what I'm talking about Google it cause it was really pretty).
The whole "Sleeping Beauty" gift of song thing is a real discussion I had more than once. I mean, honestly, the gift of song? Please! My friend and I always thought it was really lame. We had many debates at our lunch table in high school over that issue.
Finally, I wanted to ask you guys something. Since they don't meet at the Paradise Lost anymore, should I change the title? Maybe just plain old, "Rendevous"? Let me know what you guys think. And I also think I am going to go back and actually give my chapters titles (not that it makes a big difference or anything). As always, thanks for reading.