CHAPTER NINETEEN

'He's not your typical prince, more like a square peg in a round hole, kind of like me. He's the sort of guy who wouldn't mind reading side by side on a date.'
~Jodi Picoult, Between the Lines~

Hermione was rapidly beginning to realise there was no way she was getting out of the camping trip. Her mum had started packing and buying the camping the supplies they'd been lacking. Everyday she came home with new shopping bags and started pulling backpacks down from storage. Hermione drilled holes with her eyes into the growing pile in the living room with all their stuff.

She did not want to go camping.

She tried appealing to her mum's sense, but apparently she didn't have any left. She didn't seem to remember the utter catastrophe that was the last Granger camping trip and why they hadn't done it again in years. Forever, if Hermione had anything to say about it. Why couldn't they just rent a lake house for the weekend instead? Why did it have to be camping? Did her mum somehow forget that there were no showers? No indoor plumbing? No BEDS?

There were plenty of mosquitos. And rocks. The wilderness wasn't lacking those. But did her mum seem to care? Not at all. She was humming, dusting off the flashlights and beginning a search for batteries. Hermione shovelled oatmeal into her mouth, staring daggers at all the camping gear.

Before heading to work, Hermione had to stop and vote. She did, offhandedly wonder if their debate had managed to help some people making their decisions, and then Apparated to Diagon Alley. She had gotten used to walking through the nearly empty streets, waving at shopkeepers as they opened their stores. She felt like she had joined a secret, elite club.

She paused, nearly dropping her half eaten banana. George was standing a few feet away. There was no way she could avoid this confrontation- he was looking right at her. She took a deep breath and resumed walking. If George was mad at her, fine. They'd get over it eventually. If he wasn't, then she had no reason to freak out.

He met her halfway, his hands stuck in his pockets. It was too hot for that, so she figured he was as nervous as she was. His eyes were squinting against the sun as he looked down at her, "Hey, 'Mione."

'Mione, she thought in relief. This was starting off right. If he was angry at her, he wouldn't have used her nickname. She attempted a smile back, "Hey,"

"How are you?"

It could have been going worse. "Okay. Um... are you guys mad at me?"

George's eyebrows scrunched together. He looked perplexed as he asked, "What?"

"For breaking up with Ron," She clarified, wondering if it was possible he didn't know. Maybe that was why he was still talking to her, he didn't know. He'd blow up now for sure. She braced herself, but nothing came.

"Oh, that." He waved her off, "Why would I be mad about that?"

"Because, because," She sputtered, at a loss for words. "I hurt him!"

"And he hurt you."

"You're his brother."

"You're my friend," George shot back. "I'm not just gonna stop being your friend because you don't want to snog my brother anymore. Can't blame you anyway- I'm much more charming."

She rolled her eyes as he fixed his imaginary tie. George looked pleased with himself, but then said, "I know I was a git when you went to that dinner thing with Malfoy. I'm sorry about that. I don't know why I thought you'd cheat on my brother. Anyway, you can't force yourself to be with Ron if you don't want to. You'll just make both of yourselves miserable."

"Do the rest of you feel this way?"

"'Mione, it is common knowledge Mum is in love with you. She's probably mad at Ron for letting you get away." George joked, nudging her shoulder. He didn't stop there, he wrapped his arm around her, escorting her to work. She felt safe, secured under his arm and pulled against his side. George didn't care. He wasn't mad. She took a deep breath, feeling better than she had in awhile.

"Thanks, George." She murmured.

George rolled his eyes, "I didn't do anything."

"You're right," She said, softly, "you didn't."

Hermione found herself in the usual chair she usually sat in at the Malfoy's study. She had brought a new book she'd gotten at a muggle bookstore with her and was comfortable curled up in the cavernous room. There were goosebumps on her legs from the intense cooling charm, but she didn't mind. She hardly noticed since she was engrossed in the pages of her book. She couldn't remember the last time she'd found a story that sucked her in this much, but it felt good to return to that world.

It wasn't the type of feeling that could be described to anyone. It was the type of thing you had to experience for yourself. Hermione hoped that everyone found a book that stirred something deep within them. When she found a good book, it was all she thought about it. She spent days obsessing over the characters and replaying favourite scenes in her head.

Lucius Malfoy was sitting across from her. She knew if he had any freedom, he'd be miles away from his home when she was around. But the Ministry- and Narcissa- made sure he stuck around. They hadn't succeeded in making him be overly friendly to her, but he'd managed simple pleasantries.

Draco was next to her, in his usual chair, reading a book. He'd been reading a history book the last time she saw him, but this book looked new and she hadn't gotten a good look at it. Besides Draco seemed as into his book as she was, so she hadn't bothered him. The three of them were just sitting there, in silence, and she knew the Ministry wasn't going to be pleased with how boring they were.

Marty stepped in, handing them all scripts. "What the hell is this?" Draco asked, viciously snatching the pages out of his hands.

Hermione flipped through the packet, disgusted at what they were expecting her to do. Did reality tv mean nothing to anyone?

Lucius scowled and Hermione wondered if he was even going to accept the script. Apparently the threat of going to Azkaban was still enough to make him comply with Marty's demands.

"I'm not saying this bullshit." Draco declared, tossing the pages on the floor. He looked down at his book, like that would end everything.

Hermione glanced at Draco. He did what he wanted and she wondered if his brashness with everyone was his way of fighting back since he could never say no to his father. Maybe she was reading too much into things. Either way, his refusal to read lines so he could keep reading was... sexy. Gosh, she was turning into Ginny.

"You signed a contract." Marty said, looking a tad insecure. "If you break it, your father will go to Azkaban."

"So take him." Draco muttered.

Hermione gasped, wondering if he really meant it or he was just being difficult. The image of the Malfoys crying and hugging after the battle at Hogwarts came back to her and she knew he was just being nasty on purpose. There was love there. Somewhere.

She didn't want to chastise him- which was weird since she spent her whole life chasing after Harry and Ron. She glanced over at Lucius and saw him glaring at his son. He opened his mouth, "Show some respect."

"I would if you showed her some respect." Draco nodded his head in Hermione's direction, his voice tight and controlled.

Her eyes widened and she felt herself flushing. Draco kept going, not realising that what he was saying was way better than anything the Ministry's script writers could have come up with. "Or, if you just showed anyone an ounce of respect."

Lucius looked like his head was going to explode. Or a vein was going to pop. Either way, he did not look good and Hermione wasn't looking forward to being around when he finally snapped. "Watch your mouth, Draco."

She thought he'd have more to say, but it shocked her when he stopped there. Hermione studied him, confused. Where was the man that snuck Ginny Weasley Tom Riddle's diary? The Death Eater extraordinaire? He just looked like an old, tired man that had lost his family.

Draco laughed, but it sound dark and broken. "Or you'll what? Threaten me? Beat me? We both know those don't work anymore."

Lucius glanced at the cameras before standing up and walking away. When they were alone- minus the cameras that stayed- Draco started breathing normally. Hermione wondered what his childhood had been like. Threaten, beat, she replayed. He'd said the words so cavalier. Like they didn't mean anything because he'd been subjected to them too much for them to have any fear left in them.

She knew she liked silence and her usual strategy for situations like this was to be silent company, but it seemed like Draco had had enough silence for a lifetime. "Do you usually fight like this?"

"No." He said, glaring at the chair his father had left. She wasn't going to push him to say anything else, but thankfully, he went on after a few moments, "Usually he pulls out his wand."

She bit her lip, stopping herself from gasping. He still wasn't looking at her and she didn't know how to help him. Instead, she reached for the book he'd been reading. This time she couldn't hold her gasp in- it came, breaking his trance. He was reading 'The Catcher in the Rye.' She'd mentioned it during their ill-fated dinner, but more than that, it was by a muggle author.

She handed him the book, figuring that was the only thing that would cheer him up. After all, she'd read fairy tales after her break-up. He took it, their fingers brushing. She couldn't look away from him and it felt like she was giving him more than just a paperback book.

"Nasty book, you were right." He said, clearing his throat. "Complains much too much. His life isn't that bad."

She replayed everything she'd ever known about Draco Malfoy. He'd had it drilled into his head since birth to hate everyone that wasn't a pure-blood. His father was a vile person that hexed his own son. He'd been enlisted to kill his headmaster. He had no friends. Holden Caulfield had nothing on Draco Malfoy.

She nodded, looking back at her own book. She wanted to touch him again. Ginny would have a field day if she knew. She couldn't focus on her book anymore. It didn't have the same magnetic effect it once possessed. She found herself rereading the same lines over and over again and not understanding whole passages. There was one person taking up her thoughts, invading her senses.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on the chair next to her. There were several feet separating them, but it felt like he was holding her the way George had earlier that day. This was ridiculous.

Her phone rang, distracting her from everything. It was her mum, she saw, pulling the ruddy thing from her purse. "Hello?"

As the conversation went on, she felt Draco looking at her, but she didn't dare glance at him to confirm her suspicions. What would she do if he was? "No!" She told her mum, nearly passing out at the suggestion. She saw Draco's eyebrows shoot up from the corner of her eye. That eavesdropping little git.

She shook her head in protest, but it was useless since her mum couldn't see. Her voice was high pitched and she felt like the world was spinning too fast. Or maybe it was just the room. She knew she was losing a pointless battle. "I am not taking Draco Malfoy camping with us."

"Why not?" Draco asked from his spot next to her.

She ignored him, sure that he had no idea what camping was. Plus, Draco was too much of a pretty boy to survive a few nights out in the wilderness with no personal space or hot water.

"No!" She shrieked, but realised her mum had already hung up. She groaned, tossing the phone into her bag. She didn't want to go camping in the first place and this wasn't making anything any better.

"Here I was Granger thinking we were mates." Draco said, pretending she had broken his heart. "You cut me deep."

She rolled her eyes, "You don't even know what camping is."

"Sure I do." He proclaimed, but at her dubious look he relented. "Fine, so I don't. Its some muggle thing. What's the big deal? I'd do it for you."

He didn't know what he was saying, she knew. There was no reason for her heart to pound traitorously. And there was no way she was going to let him see her shower in a lake or see her parents stomping around in their giant camping boots or their disgustingly bright hats.

"Uh, no."

He didn't look discouraged. "Why can't I come?"

"Because I don't even want to go." She said, trying to focus on her book.

Draco wasn't letting her off the hook. "Why not?"

She sighed, "Look, you wouldn't last a day in the woods. You wear trousers and silk shirts, your hair is always perfect. You have no idea what it'd be like to shower in a freezing, murky lake. Eat fish from a campfire or sleep on the floor."

"There's this thing called magic, Granger." Draco grinned, like he thought he'd stumped her.

"And that's your problem," She said, "you use magic for everything."

"Wizard." He pointed to himself, like she had forgotten that very important fact. When she didn't smile, he wiped his grin off his face and studied her. She looked troublesome, her eyes set on the closed book in her lap. "What's wrong with using magic all the time?"

"Nothing," She said, confusing him even more.

"Yeah, because that wasn't strange and contradicting." He muttered.

"I can't explain it because I was raised for eleven years thinking magic was just in stories. I set the table, made my bed, walked to school... you were raised with house elves cooking your meals and food appearing on the table. We're just different, and that's not a bad thing." She tried to explain, but wasn't sure how well she was managing it.

"So," Draco looked thoughtful, his eyebrows knit together like he was trying to understand, "if I got up to put my book back and get another one..." He said slowly, "it would make you happy?"

She had to admit, he got it quicker than she thought he would. The 'make you happy' part made her blush and she nodded, not daring to look at him. Why did he keep saying stuff like that? And why did her stomach keep twisting whenever he'd say something or look at her?

She expected him to laugh and say, "That's stupid." It was what he would have done if they were back at school. But he didn't say anything and finally all the quiet was getting to her, so she looked over, hoping he wouldn't be looking at her. He was and when their eyes met she sucked in a breath. It felt like everything else was slipping away and she didn't even remember the cameras in the room.

He leaned forward, like he was going to touch her cheek, but dropped his hand. She looked away, opening her book. Draco did the same and they both attempted to read like nothing had happened. But something had happened and Hermione was practically drafting the letter to Ginny in her head.

Her book may as well have been written in a different language for all she understood of it. She shut it, standing up and grabbing her bag. "I have to go," She declared, wanting to get out of there as fast as she could.

Draco stood up, tossing the book on the chair he'd just vacated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but looked as bashful as she felt. It was probably the first time she'd ever seen him look anything but confident or angry. He rubbed his neck and she felt glued to the spot, looking up at him.

"Okay," He finally uttered. She didn't know what she was expecting him to say. She thought he'd have at least have more to say than Ron when things got a little awkward.

"I know we haven't done a lot of 'pure-blood stuff'," he said, using air quotes, his resuming its usual confidant tone. "That's because our lives are exceptionally boring, but there's this ball thing being thrown by some family in Italy. Mum was thinking we should make a weekend out of it and so some sightseeing. Did you... want to go?"

"I already went to a 'ball thing.'" She said, trying to remain calm. But he was asking her to Italy.

He looked down, his feet apparently more interesting than her. "I know," he dug his toe into the shiny floor, "but this is pretty much all pure-bloods do. And I just thought... well.., it's fine, you don't want to go."

"No!" She said loudly. She flinched, but Draco didn't seem to mind the noise level since he perked up and looked at her. She cleared her throat, "I mean... when is it?"

"Next week."

Camping was the week after. "I can't afford a new dress."

"Wear the one you wore last time. It was stunning." He said eagerly, not missing a beat.

Boys. She rolled her eyes, "I can't wear the same dress again."

"Why not? No one from here is going. They won't know." He looked like he was begging. "Or we'll buy you a new dress."

It was so easy for them to throw their money around. She blushed, shaking her head. "I'll figure it out."

"That's a yes, right?" He smiled and again her heart did that awful thing where it would pound in her chest rapidly. She was certain he could hear it. How could anyone not hear it?

She nodded. It felt like he'd just asked her on a date.

"Right," Draco rubbed his hands together, "Now that that's sorted, how about that camping trip?"

"No."

A/N: Hi! I hope you liked it! Lots of Draco and Hermione here and lots more to come! :D What do you think? Good? Awful? Do they make you giddy or do you wanna throttle them? ALSO, I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: Does anyone watch Once Upon a Time? Because Killian Jones aka Captain Hook is so fucking hot. I just can't handle it! That's all.

I know. I know. This chapter has set up the greatest plot point of them all: Will Draco Malfoy go camping? No need to thank me. I know. I'm a genius. hehe

Thanks to my lovely reviewers: alannalove1990, ILoveSiriusBlack4, Taylor F, feelingcowgirlish (what an interesting name!), jigglyjelly28, edwardsoneandonlylove, Loveable Leo, Guest, asyouwish76, and Reipersecutoria.