Chapter 8 - A Humourous Introduction
Disclaimer – I don't own any of the recognisable characters in this story.
Last Chapter - So, in exhaustion, Hermione sighed and collapsed back on the bed. Her thoughts kept her up for many hours, and as each minute passed, the more exhausted she became. But finally, she drifted off to sleep. I would like to say that her sleep was peaceful – she was definitely one to deserve that after all she had been through over the past seventy-two hours – but her thoughts mingled with her subconscious mind, sending her dream after horrible dream. But the nightmares would be the least of her worries when she looked back on this moment in a few days time.
(A/N - Sorry for the quite boring, non-cliffie ending and very slow moving last chapter! I promise this one will be MUCH better!)
Hermione awoke with a throbbing headache and a scream the following morning when she found a large pair of round eyes boggling up at her. The shrill cry alerted the creature and the green, two-foot high thing fell from the edge of her bed, a shriek escaping its lips. Hermione held a hand to her heart and - breathing heavily - leant over the side of her bed to examine what woke her up. She sighed in relief to find that it was only a House Elf and her heart rate began to regulate.
"Oh goodness, I am so sorry!" Hermione apologised, quickly getting out of bed to help the House Elf off the floor. The House Elf rejected Hermione's helping hand and hastily got off the floor itself.
"Do not bother to apologize to Mitty, Mistress. It was Mitty's fault," the House Elf Mitty said in a shrill feminine voice, bowing her head so low her long nose brushed the ground.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, sitting back on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry for causing you to fall, you just startled me."
"Mitty is sorry, Mistress, but Mitty was sent by Master to deliver you a message," Mitty said, standing up straight in an important manner.
"A message?" asked Hermione, taken aback for a minute. "From Draco Malfoy?" Mitty nodded her head vigorously.
"Yes, Mistress."
"And what's this message?" Hermione enquired, listening carefully for Mitty's response.
"Master would like for you to dress and have Mitty take you to the study to meet him," said Mitty.
"Well you can tell Master that if he wants to see me, he can come here," Hermione said, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Master said Mistress would say that." Hermione was again taken aback. "Master also said to say that if Mistress will not meet him, Mistress can meet his father instead." An angry look crossed Hermione's face, but she forced her fury down and took a deep breath before replying.
"Fine," Hermione said, getting up off her bed and heading over to her wardrobe in a huff. "I'll go then." The anger in her tone was so prominent that Mitty took a few steps back towards the door.
"M-Mitty will wait outside then," Mitty said in a shaky voice before backing away slowing out the door, closing it hastily behind her. Hermione took a few short breaths, shaking her head angrily.
"Order me around ... "I'll show him."
Hermione opened the wardrobe door that had last night crashed shut just seconds after she and Draco had broken apart...
"Oh..." Hermione breathed suddenly, as she recollected the memories of last night.
Her parents dead.
Her real parents alive. Pureblooded parents.
Hermione mentally scolded herself for forgetting about it all for the whole time she had been up this morning. It wasn't very respectful of her parents' memories.
Parents.
Hermione no longer knew the meaning of that word.
Who were your parents? Were they the people who brought you up, cared, and loved you? Or the parents who conceived you; the mother who birthed you. These thoughts spiraled around Hermione's head as she flicked through the clothes hanging up in her wardrobe.
Black. Black. Black.
The occasional item of clothing was white or similar neutral colours, and Hermione even spotted a very revealing green blouse, but she didn't dare choose it; Hermione would never wear something that revealing unless someone held a gun to her head.
She kept flicking through the many clothes that hung in her wardrobe until she finally found something she thought to be suitable. She decided on a black tank top; it was the only thing in there that didn't show off her cleavage. She also found a pair of quite casual and very comfortable pair of pants, which she immediately swapped, for her green dress.
Hermione was rather amazed to find that all the clothes fitted her perfectly, wondering when anyone would have had the time – and money - to go out and buy her a whole new wardrobe full of clothes; and why.
On most days, Hermione would be rather ecstatic to receive a free wardrobe full of clothes. Not that she was one to really follow the fashion, but new clothes are new clothes. Unfortunately, not only would she never wear the majority of those clothes outside her room where she could be seen, but they had also been purchased for her by whom she presumed to be a Malfoy – or at least someone under his orders. And Hermione had no respect for any Malfoy; such a family made her skin crawl. Speaking of Malfoy, Hermione had a meeting with him right about now. Preferably with the younger one, though she detested him with quite a passion.
She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was still relatively straight, but was beginning to frizz in places where she had rolled over onto during her restless night. Finding a rather expensive looking brush with jewels embedded in the handle, she gently ran it through her hair. Finally the frizz was gone with just a few strokes. She wiped the mascara out from the corner of her eyes and after quickly putting on a pair of the flattest shoes she could find, she walked outside the room where Mitty was patiently waiting for her.
"Is Mistress ready to go with Mitty now?" asked the House Elf. Hermione just nodded and followed Mitty as she began to trod up the hallway. After about five minutes, a staircase and various left and right turns here and there, they stopped outside a door. Mitty knocked on it three times with her small, green fist.
"Enter," came Draco Malfoy's smooth voice from inside. With a flick of her wrist, as she couldn't reach the brass knob, Mitty opened the door. The obedient House Elf held the door open for Hermione before walking in, an important look on her face. Hermione smiled and nodded at Mitty in appreciation, before walking inside the elegant-styled room. Her eyes followed the rich burgundy carpet until they finally fell on a emerald leather couch, where Draco sat, watching her intently. An uneasy feeling washed over her under his stare and she quickly dropped his gaze.
Yet she could still feel his eyes on her.
The loud banging of the door as it closed shut threw Hermione back into reality and she felt she had jumped ten feet in the air at the sharp noise. A crimson tinge crept up on her cheeks as her head whipped around to see Mitty by the recently closed door.
"I see you met my House Elf," Draco said, causing Hermione's head to spin back around to face him. "Quite new and rather a nuisance at times, but I'm sure she'll eventually learn how to serve her master." Hermione threw him a dirty look.
"You're lucky she's working for you at all!" Hermione spat, as Mitty shuffled on the spot uncomfortably.
"If she's not happy working here then she can leave any time she wants. There are many more where she came from," Draco said casually, leaning back on the very comfortable-looking leather lounge-suite. Hermione looked away from him in disgust, but decided not to press the matter. She had been trying to convince people for years that House Elf slavery is wrong, but unfortunately, S.P.E.W didn't catch the attention of many.
"What did you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, flicking her eyes momentarily up to his before again looking away; she couldn't stand his intent stare for very long.
"Sit down, relax first," Draco said, motioning for her to sit down on the couch beside him. "Would you like some biscuits?" Before Hermione could reply, Draco clicked his fingers together and Mitty was at his feet in a matter of seconds.
"Could you send a message to the other House Elves to make us some biscuits?" Draco asked Mitty, and she quickly headed towards the door with a nod. "And hurry up." A few seconds later, the door slammed behind her.
"I didn't want biscuits," Hermione said to Draco, looking him directly in the eye this time, resisting the urge to tear her gaze away.
"I know," Draco said simply. Hermione cocked an eyebrow, but before she could say anything Draco gave her a rather pointed look. "I'm hungry."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Sit down," Draco said again, more of a demand rather than a request this time.
"I'd prefer to stand," Hermione replied coldly, her eyes flicking towards the spot he was motioning to.
"Suit yourself," Draco said shrugging, "but I'm not going to help you get off the floor after you fall over. I've got some news for you." Hermione glared at him with unsure indignation. Before looking him over uncertainly a few times, Hermione's eyes narrowed in angry defeat.
"Fine," Hermione said and perched on the edge of the couch furthest away from Draco. Then without looking at him, she again asked, "Now what did you want?" Even without her eyes on him, Hermione could feel him smirk. Whether it was because of her discomfort or what he was about to say or both, she was unsure of. Most likely the latter, she thought, as he was the most arrogant pig she had ever had the misfortune of meeting.
However, Draco didn't seem to be talking. Hermione closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. As she let that breath go, she opened her eyes and turned to Draco pointedly, an obvious impatience in her eyes.
"Well?" Hermione said, motioning with her hands for him to continue.
With a rather arrogant smirk, he finally spoke.
"Your parents want to meet you," Draco said, and before Hermione – whose lips had parted in surprise – could say anything, he added, "today."
"Today?" Hermione repeated, looking at him, an almost unsure look on her face. To Hermione, it felt as though this wasn't really happening.
"Yes. They're arriving in ten minutes."
Hermione eyes widened.
"Ten minutes!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" Draco shrugged.
"I forgot."
"Forgot!" Hermione repeated angrily.
"Don't worry, Maria will fix you up in a minute," Draco assured her, arising from his place on the couch. He looked at her expectantly.
"Well, are you just going to sit there? Surely you don't want to meet your parents looking like you just got out of bed?" Draco said.
"I did just get out of bed," Hermione reminded him, but after a moment she, too stood up and followed Draco out of the room. He held the door open for her, and after hesitating, she walked through before him. Such a courteous gesture made Hermione a little flustered and uncomfortable, and she tried to hide her rosy cheeks. Unfortunately, such a task is impossible to do inconspicuously. Instead she made sure her gaze was set straight ahead as they walked side-by-side down the corridor in silence.
"So what's with all the clothes?" Hermione finally asked the question that had been bugging her earlier this morning.
"What clothes?" Draco asked.
"The ones in my room, in the wardrobe," Hermione told him. Realisation dawned over Draco.
"Oh, those ones. Well, as you're going to be here a while, I sent out one of our servants to buy you some clothes," Draco replied simply. Hermione turned her head and faced him for the first time since they left the sitting room.
"How long exactly am I supposed to be staying here for?" Hermione asked.
"Long enough," Draco answered shortly. "I like that top, by the way." Hermione whipped her head away from his, disgusted at the smirk on his face. Always count on Draco Malfoy to notice such things.
"Pig," Hermione mumbled under her breath, folding her arms over her chest. It was only now that Hermione realised that she was cold. She guessed she had been too worked up earlier to notice anything about the temperature. Though it was kind of obvious that a stone manor in winter was going to be cold. Hermione shivered and rubbed her arms, finally realising the goosebumps that had been there since she left her room that morning.
"Cold, Granger?" Draco smirked.
"Two things: One, yes I am because you didn't have anything that remotely covered me in that wardrobe, let alone actually give warmth! And two, you can't call me that, Malfoy, and you know it," Hermione reminded nastily.
"Well then I'll make it my pet name for you," Draco said, his smirk more prominent than ever. Hermione actually stopped in her tracks, the epitome of disgust across her features.
"Come on, Granger," Draco said patronizingly, "we're on a schedule here." She glared at him and refused to move until he abruptly jerked on her arm and began pulling her up the corridor. Hermione eventually – after much resisting – began walking like a normal human being. Still, Draco did not release her wrist. He just walked up his elaborate decorated hallway – with, again, more and more antique furniture – as though this was completely normal. Hermione coughed slightly, to get his attention.
"That's mine, you know?" Hermione asked. Draco turned his head around, looking at her in confusion. Hermione's eyes flicked down to her wrist, Draco's gaze following hers. After the realisation kicked in, he released her wrist in an instant.
"Haven't got any plans to escape, have you Granger? Because I really don't feel like running," Draco complained, obviously feeling the need to so abruptly change the subject. Hermione rolled her eyes, both at his obvious misuse of her name and at his typical Malfoy-ness.
"Hmm…" Hermione began, pretending to actually consider it, "What if I do?"
"Then I suppose you would miss out on meeting your parents," Draco said simply, but with an air of knowing it was something that would get to her. Unfortunately – for Draco – he was rather wrong.
"I've survived without them all of my life, I think I'll live if I miss out today," Hermione said, mimicking one of Draco's smirks. Draco glared at her.
"It's annoying, isn't it?" Hermione said, speaking of the smirk that was still very much spread across her face.
"Granger, that's not even in league with mine," Draco said, flashing her a true Malfoy smirk. Suddenly, Hermione scooped up a vase from a small wooden table beside her and threw it at him. Draco ducked just in time to avoid being beheaded, and felt the force of the vase ruffle his hair. A second later it shattered on the ground, the shards scattering across the carpet. Draco took a few wary steps backwards, staring at Hermione as though she had gone completely mad – which Draco thought she had.
"Woah, Granger, settle d-"
Draco didn't get time to finish his sentence as he was forced to throw himself back against the wall to dodge another item Hermione had found – and eventually thrown at him – that had been sitting on the table. Draco – as the thing went whizzing passed him – thought that it was a miniature plate of some sort, but didn't take too long to stare before lunging out of the way. It, like the vase, shattered on the stone floor.
"Are you trying to kill me!" Draco exclaimed, looking wildly at Hermione in shock. Anger flashed in Hermione's eyes.
"I asked you one simple thing and still Draco Malfoy manages to do the exact opposite," Hermione declared.
"And what would that be, Granger?" Draco asked with a smirk. Hermione didn't hesitate as she grabbed the next thing from the table, which just so happened to be a very elegant crystal wine glass. As she threw it directly at him, Draco dug his hand into his pocket and drew out his wand.
"Accio wine glass!" Draco exclaimed, just before the crystal class impacted with his nose. He breathed a sigh of relief as the glass flew into his left hand. He then turned an angry gaze at Hermione.
"Do you know how expensive priceless wine glasses are?" Draco asked.
"I told you not to call me that name!" Hermione exclaimed.
"What name?"
Hermione stared at him pointedly.
"Oh, you mean Granger?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed in anger.
"I suppose that's a yes then?"
A fixed glare was the only response he got.
"Hmm.." Draco murmured, as if thinking about the matter. "Well, I've already told you the circumstances with the name. It is now my pet name for you and that's final." He paused for a moment, as Hermione's mouth opened in protest. "Granger," he added teasingly.
Hermione snapped and reached back to grab something else from the table but found that she had thrown all the contents at Draco already.
"Violence is never the answer, Granger," Draco began patronizingly.
"If the wise person who said that ever met you, Malfoy, I'm sure he would make an exception," Hermione retorted nastily. Draco pretended to look offended.
"It looks like I've touched a nerve! You're rather defensive today, Granger," Draco smirked.
"How much longer is it going to take until we get to wherever Maria is?" Hermione asked impatiently. Draco stopped the smirk and look like he was genuinely puzzled.
"Come to think of it, Granger, I've got no idea."
Hermione groaned.
"Urgh! Then where are we going!" Hermione asked.
"To meet your parents."
"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "But I look like I just got out of bed!"
"You did just get out of bed," Draco reminded her, mocking her earlier statement. Hermione glared at him for a moment in silence. After a moment, she again spoke.
"Give me your wand," Hermione said simply, her arm extended.
Draco laughed, "No."
"If you just let me fix myself up, I'll give it straight back, I swear. And I'll be co-operative today. Please?" Hermione pleaded. "I don't want to meet my parents looking like I just got out of bed." As Draco opened his mouth to tell her that she did, Hermione quickly interjected, "I know!"
Draco closed his mouth and shrugged.
"Well, I'm sure your parents don't really want to meet you looking like that either," Draco said, a rather large smirk on his face.
"Please, Malfoy?" Hermione asked.
"What will I get out of it?" Draco asked, a teasing tone in his voice.
"Draco-"
"On first-name terms now, are we, Hermione?" Draco asked patronizingly.
"Don't start, Malfoy," Hermione said, a warning look in her eyes.
"How's this for an idea, Granger?" Draco began. "You want to look like you haven't just gotten about of bed, and I don't want you to use my wand, right?"
"Right," Hermione answered, uncertainty in her tone, not sure where Draco was going with this.
"Well, how about I try and help you with it," Draco suggested.
"You're not going anywhere near my face with that wand, Malfoy," Hermione quickly exclaimed, taking a few cautious steps backwards.
"Why? Don't you think I'm smart enough to do a quick charm?" Draco asked, mock offended.
"It's not that I don't think you have the intelligence, Malfoy. It's the whole trust issue I have with you," Hermione explained as though talking to a two year old. It seemed she did this a lot with Draco.
"Trust issue? We have a lot of trust! You can trust me, Granger."
"Last time I trusted you, Malfoy, you put Veritaserum in my dessert," Hermione stated.
Draco just brushed this comment away, "It's a thing of the past, Granger. Move on. Now, onto this makeup thing," Draco said, raising his wand. Hermione jumped backwards.
"Malfoy, don't come near me!" Hermione shrieked. Draco took a few steps forward, which Hermione made up the distance for by moving backwards.
"It won't hurt, Granger! Come on, I've done this before!"
Hermione's eyebrow shot up into her hairline.
"When would you have ever done this before!" Hermione asked. Draco hesitated.
"Erm… Charms," Draco said quickly. "Now come on, Granger!" He stepped forward. Hermione stepped backwards.
"No."
"Okay, Granger," Draco said with a sigh. "I'll make a deal with you, you just chose which option you would like to take.
"Either you let me try to fix your just-got-out-of-bed look, or I'll hex you," Draco said simply. "You choose."
"Prat!" Hermione spat, taking another few steps backwards.
"One or the other, Granger. It's a pretty fair deal."
"Fair!"
Draco raised his wand.
"Okay, okay!" Hermione exclaimed. "Do it! Just don't scar me for life."
"It might help…"
"Malfoy-"
"Just having some fun. Okay, now, stand still." Draco rolled up the sleeves of his robe. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as Draco pointed his wand at her and muttered something under his breath. Hermione felt an icy cool breeze wash over her face and she shivered involuntarily. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Draco, hoping to God he hadn't messed up as usual.
"Is it okay?" Hermione asked, almost wanting to close her eyes, dreading the answer.
"Ahh…" Draco trailed off, scratching the side of his neck as though wondering what to do.
"Malfoy," Hermione began, her voice deadly. "What did you do?"
"You might want to see for yourself," Draco said, pointing to the mirror on the wall behind her. Hermione slowly turned around and faced her reflection. Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
It was as though she were looking at a completely different person. Hermione definitely would not wear anything on her face like this. No one in their right mind would!
She had eyeliner lined vertical and horizontal over each eye, some bright red substance on her nose and the same colour lipstick on her lips – and about an inch or so around them; she looked like a clown!
"Draco Malfoy, I am going to kill you!" Hermione screamed and lunged at Draco, throwing them both into a wall cabinet on the opposing wall. The drawers shook and a few things fell off the top of it. Both Hermione and Draco fell to the floor, Hermione on top of Draco.
"Oh come on, Granger! It doesn't look too bad. In fact, I quite like it," Draco laughed, and instantly his cheek met Hermione's palm.
"I look like a clown!" Hermione exclaimed.
"That was the intention."
"Why you little-"
"Hem hem," someone cleared their throat. Both Hermione and Draco looked up – Draco with some difficulty – to see a man and a woman in long coats standing next to Lucius at the nearest door. All shared the same puzzled and questioning expression on their faces. Their gaze took in everything from Hermione's clown-made up face to the fact that she was basically astride Draco on the floor.
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Guinevere… this is your daughter, Hermione," Lucius introduced, an angry yet forced look on his face. The Guinevere's looked the situation up and down, astonished and almost ashamed. Hermione took a deep breath. She had a lot of explaining to do.
A/N – Finally my eighth chapter is out! Sorry about the wait, it's been about a month since I've updated last. School and the load homework they find necessary to give out has caught up with me. But I made this one extra long to make up for it. This is the longest chapter in this story so far!
This installment of Corruptive is a little more humourous than usual, hopefully to make up for all the despair, angst and gloom I put in all my other chapters! But don't worry, what's coming next is hardly humourous!
Again, I would like to thank you all for your wonderful feedback and constructive critisism and to one reviewer in particular who pointed out a mistake I made with the names. I'll fix that up as soon as I can. Thank you all.
I'll try and update as soon as I can! The next chapter should be a good one! Hopefully a few surprises and awkward confrontations with the Guinevere's!
Please review!
Marauders Gal