Author's Note: I own no person, no place, no thing – except the plot. If you recognize it, it probably belongs to Ms. Rowling or some other awesome super-human.
I've been waiting ages to post this. This is the first chapter I wrote of this story. It was much harder to get the first three set up right to make this meeting between our heroes as natural and timely as possible. So, without further ado…
Chapter 04 Second Sight
Draco caught a glimpse of the brown-haired woman from the corner of his eye as he shelved the last book that had been stacked in his arms. Crazy Muggles and the crazy shit they read. This Left Behind series was especially popular right now as the authors had just released the latest book, and the Library's main telephone had been ringing constantly with requests to hold and reserve most of the books in the series by one batty old patron or another. There had been a lot of complaints about the lack of availability in the Library, and when Draco had looked up the inventory and whereabouts of the books, he'd found that the bulk of the Library's copies of the series where checked out by only a handful of patrons. He'd spent his lunch break yesterday afternoon on the phone with thirteen particular Library patrons, and with a generous application of his signature Malfoy charm, he'd managed to score forty-seven of the Library's copies of the series books. Forty-seven! Draco was quite pleased with himself as he shimmied down the ladder and grabbed his cart to push back to the front of the Library's Check/Information counter.
'Another victory for Draco Malfoy, Muggle Librarian Du Jour', he thought to himself sarcastically. He pushed his reading glasses up off his nose and onto the top of his head as he walked to the end of the aisle.
Looking back to his left, he saw the brown-haired woman angle towards a grouping of squashy chairs, comfortable couches and end-tables that sat under the large, high set windows. The windows faced west, and the afternoon sunlight was ideal for reading.
She had walked past his aisle rather slowly, head down to read the open book she held in front of her. It was oddly familiar, seeing the woman like that in his peripheral vision. As Draco turned towards the information desk, something caught in the back of his mind. He turned back again and saw the afternoon sun catch on the woman's long, wavy hair. It burned gold and bright, every wave and curl shining and so… familiar.
Draco's mouth popped open. What the fuck? He'd seen hair like that before in his other life, all curling golden-brown madness, rippling and crackling with an intensity that matched the gold fire in its owner's eyes.
Her eyes.
Her…Mione.
Draco stumbled forward on disbelieving feet. "Granger?"
/…../
Hermione had just settled herself on the green corduroy chair, shrugging her bag to the floor and tucking her leg under her as she turned the next page. The Song of the Dodo by David Quammen was her first introduction to the theory of island biogeography, and she was completely hooked. She was eager to find out about the demise of the thylacine, better known as the Tasmanian Tiger-
"Granger?"
Someone had gasped her name. Someone was standing on the other side of the orange and brown striped couch, staring down at her with his mouth hanging open. Someone slightly familiar, yet slightly not… Hermione's heart thumped in her chest.
Close-cropped blond hair, dark gray, almost black eyes, large black, Buddy Holly style glasses pushed up on his forehead. He'd rolled up the sleeves on his white oxford, his navy blue argyle sweater vest fit loosely over his rapidly heaving chest, and his pale hands gripped the back of the couch as if he were hanging on – what, to keep from falling over?
"Holy shit, Malfoy?"
"What the Hell are you doing here?"
They both spoke at the same time, both too shocked to remember to be quiet.
"Shhh!" A middle-aged man at seated at a table nearby glared at them.
Hermione leapt up as Draco clambered over the couch and stopped within a foot of her. He looked so different! Draco had always been so pale and silvery looking, even his skin had seemed to glow silver, and his eyes… they were slate gray now. And practically bugging out of his head!
"Malfoy, stop gaping at me, you look like a bloody fish," she said quietly. She'd never seen such an un-Malfoy-like look on his face before. Arrogant, snarky, angry, smug, all these things were to be expected. But in this most unexpected of places, her local Library, he looked…. gobsmacked, honestly.
Draco's teeth clicked together as his mouth closed, and he blinked a couple of times.
"Granger? Are you… where did you…. How did you know I was here?" He looked back and forth a couple times, even looking back over his shoulder to the Library entrance.
"Why are you here?" he asked. Then his face lit up. "Has something changed? Am I being released early?"
"Ssshhhhh!" the man at the table was staring daggers at them. Hermione waved an apology, and he narrowed his eyes and frowned at her.
"Malfoy, I don't really know what you're going on about. Why are YOU out here? Why aren't you in the Wi… the other… world? I thought you'd gone to Europe?"
The light in Draco's eyes faded as he took in her face. It was so different! No more high-voltage curls, no more golden hazel eyes. Holy Merlin! Her eyes… they weren't gold, they were GREEN.
A light, sea-green. Somewhat calm, somewhat confused, and definitely, definitely not golden anymore.
She was different like he was different. Draco grabbed her arms and pulled her even closer as he examined her face.
"You're a Muggle! Holy Merlin, you're a fucking Muggle!" he stared in horror.
"Hey, cut it out Malfoy!" she hissed at him, jerking her arms out of his grip before he could start shaking her.
"SSSHHHHHH!" the man at the table was red faced now, and looked ready to come over and tell them off.
Hermione clapped her hand over Draco's mouth just as he was about to speak FAR TOO LOUDLY again.
"Malfoy… Draco, please calm down and shut the hell up, for goodness sake. We're in a Library." She needed to get him out of here before he started screaming or hyperventilating or something.
Draco scowled, blinked, and a muffled 'mmph hmmph' came from under her hand, so she pulled it away from his face.
"I know that, you idiot, I work here," he snapped. "But how the Hell did you get here? Why are you a Muggle too? Where are you going?" Draco frowned as she bent over and grabbed her day-bag from the floor and stuffed her book inside.
Hermione straightened back up and gazed at him. "We can't talk in here. Can we go somewhere else? Wait... what? You… work here? Really? Wait… you're a Muggle too… Malfoy, you're a Muggle?"
She took in his squared-off jaw and chin, his dark eyes, his very un-Malfoy-like haircut. Holy Merlin indeed. How in the world had that happened? Hermione grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the front door.
"Well obviously I am, thanks to the fucking Wizengamot. Hey, wait a second Granger. Wait, I can't just leave," he protested, trying to pull his hand away from her. Gods, she had a strong grip!
Hermione gave him a pleading look and tugged harder.
"Come on Malfoy. You know we can't talk in here."
"Look, I'm supposed to get off in an hour or so," he untangled his hand from hers and pushed his glasses up higher from his forehead before they fell off entirely. His brain was spinning in confusion and shock, and his hand burned where she'd touched him, but it was so damn good to see a familiar face he couldn't bear to let her walk away right now. "Hold on, just wait a minute. Just let me go ask Wanda if I can go now," he pointed at the matron standing behind the information counter.
Hermione grabbed his hand again and started dragging him over to the counter. "Okay, I'll go with you." There was so much she wanted to find out! Why was he here? Did the Ministry know? And how did he just HAPPEN to WORK in her local Library?
Draco stumbled after her to the Information counter. Wanda, Draco's supervisor, looked up to see her assistant, pink cheeked, frowning and stumbling, holding hands with a brown haired girl roughly his own age.
'Well now,' she thought, 'I suppose young Draco doesn't need a matchmaker after all'. For the past three months since he'd started working at the Library, she'd seen him solemn, hesitant, calm, and collected, but never… Astounded. Shocked, maybe. Embarrassed too, judging by the pink flushing his face as he met her eyes. It was the girl who spoke to Wanda, though.
"Good afternoon, Wanda, is it? I'm Hermione, an old school friend of Draco's. I actually just moved to town here, and lo and behold, I bump into my old classmate at my new local Library! I haven't seen him in ages, would it be possible for him to leave his shift a little early? I'm dying for a coffee and the shop next door smelled absolutely delicious." Hermione smiled brightly and hugged Draco's arm affectionately for good measure.
Draco's arm tingled at the increased contact, and his cheeks darkened further as he looked from Wanda to the girl smiling and prattling next to him. What the Devil was she going on about? School friend? Merlin, if 'school friend' meant life-long arch-rival turned War-ally turned casual acquaintance before exile had landed him here in Little Whinging, well then, 'school friend' he was then.
Draco barely recognized that Wanda was handing him his house keys from their hook under the counter, and hardly noticed that Hermione was leading him out the front door by his free hand.
/…../
"So, Granger, what the Devil are you doing here?" Draco found himself seated at a small table in the front window of the coffee shop next to the library, with a cup of coffee in his hands, staring at the Muggle-born witch who'd just dropped back into his life, looking all Muggle-tastic, just like him. "Did Mafalda send you?"
Hermione wrapped her hands around her own coffee and looked at her former rival. "You look so different, Malfoy. I am going to assume that you had your magic Suppressed. And since you mentioned Mafalda, I am going to assume that she is responsible for our meeting up like this. Yes, Mafalda Hopkirk did recommend that I settle here. She actually gave me several recommendations for Muggle cities that had small populations of squibs and other like-minded former witches and wizards, but I chose Little Whinging because of Harry. I didn't know that you would be here. Actually I'm very surprised. I never would have thought of you as someone who'd walk away from the Wizarding World."
"What?" Draco's mouth dropped open and his face got very, very red. "I didn't walk away from the Wizarding World! I didn't have my magic Suppressed! I had my magic taken from me and got chucked out on my arse! This was my punishment for my crimes against the Wizarding Community, Granger. Forget the fact that I risked my life every day for two years getting information to the Order, and forget that I had to fight against my own family! The Wizengamot decided to make an example of me, and here I am. For five years! I can't go back for five bloody years!"
Hermione frowned as she watched Draco fuming across the table. "I thought you left England, honestly. That's what was in the Prophet, that after your trial you moved to Europe to go to school and take care of your family's business there."
"What?! NO! I'm in some kind of forced hellacious Muggle-immersion, rehab program for purebloods. It's better than Azkaban, but Gods, Muggle life sucks, Granger!" Draco pushed his sliding glasses back up on his forehead, then thought better of it and grabbed them, shaking them in her face.
"I'm far-sighted!" he snapped. "I'm allergic to cats and strawberries, and I'm lactose intolerant! I've been in hospital three times because I keep forgetting that shit that comes out of the oven is fucking hot and I have to wear these bloody giant mittens to protect my skin! I don't have fingerprints on my right hand anymore!" He opened his palms and laid them on the table in front of her. Sure enough, the swirls and whorls that should have been on his right hand were all smooth and rather shiny.
"I've been out here for three fucking months and I swear it's amazing I'm still alive, Granger." He sighed and made to pull his hands back in to himself, but Hermione grabbed them.
"Malfoy…. Draco… wait a second, you mean you just got dumped out here with no preparation or instruction? That's inhumane! God knows what a shock that must have been!"
Hermione looked down at his hands while she had them trapped. The burn scars were obviously healed, but he also had cuts from what looked like a four-bladed razor across his index finger on his left hand, and the base of his thumb was covered in scratches like he'd fallen down and caught himself- she looked up at his face again, and saw more scratches on the bottom of his chin. He must have fallen down and caught his chin and palm, possibly on concrete. There were also the edges of two pink scar lines snaking their way out of his hair just above his left ear.
"No, I didn't totally just get dumped. Mafalda brought me out here, helped me find a place to live and get furniture and get the power turned on, and she stayed for a couple of days to help me find a job and taught me how to use the oven and make tea and coffee. After that I've been on my own. It's been… Hell it's been a misery from the start. I can make tea but it tastes like shite, I really hate frozen dinners but don't know how to cook anything else, and I'm scared to ask for help anymore because people look at me like I'm crazy. The last time I was in hospital the Surgeon asked me if I'd been taking illegal drugs and refused to let me leave without pissing in a plastic up so they could do research on it. On piss! That's bloody disgusting!" He jerked his hands back away from her inspection and tucked his reading glasses into the front pocket of his shirt.
"On top of all that, it's fucking lonely out here. Everyone's a stranger, people are NOT friendly, no one recognizes my name – which lately I guess really is a good thing – and I feel like I'm losing my mind, day by day. It's too quiet in my flat, I don't go out because I'm scared I'll get mugged again – oh yeh, that was another fun night in hospital – and I swear to Salazar Himself I'm getting uglier every day! I'm covered in scars now! Why the Hell are you laughing?"
Draco's whining rant was interrupted by Hermione's giggles. She set her coffee down and clapped her hands over her mouth.
"Oh Malfoy, I'm sorry! It's not funny, but it's just so… okay it's funny! I'm so sorry I'm not laughing at you specifically, it's just… You've got to feel like an alien on a different planet or something! It's never been a big deal for me to switch back and forth between the magical and Muggle worlds, but for YOU… No… I feel so bad for you!" She tried to push some compassion into her voice so he wouldn't think she was making fun of him. Honestly, the poor guy was obviously having a rough go of it. She'd never seen Malfoy so chatty and expressive before. He was so blatantly lost and lonely that her heart hurt for him. Once compassion came to the forefront of her thoughts, she came up with a plan.
"Mal… Draco, where do you live?" Hermione asked. "Could we walk there from here?"
"Why?" he asked, glowering at her obvious humor at his expense.
"Because, you poor thing, I haven't got anything going on for the rest of the day, and I can help you out. You could call this Advanced Muggle Studies. Ask me anything Muggle related, and I'll give you a hand." Hermione stood up as though the matter were settled and reached for his hand again.
Draco's face lit up. This had possibilities! He wouldn't have to keep any secrets, he could ask her anything! Maybe she could show him how to use the vacuum sucker thing, his carpets were starting to scare him. And the temperature controller thingy, the washing machine and dryer, the stovetop…
"Do you swear you're not making fun of me?" Draco looked at her carefully. "Because I have a lot of fucking questions."
Hermione smiled at him, a real, honest-to-goodness smile. Like a co-conspirator, someone who shared the same secret as him. She continued to hold out her hand, trying to reach him. "Come on, Draco Malfoy, and I'll show you how the other half lives."
"Brilliant! Can you cook? Can you teach me how? Do you know how to pick out food at the grocer? Would you go shopping with me?" Draco gulped the last of his coffee and stood up.
"Yes, yes, yes, and yes, Draco. Now come on, it looks like it's about to start raining and I didn't bring a jacket." Hermione finally got his hand in hers, but Draco looked at her oddly.
"Granger, I'm not a baby. Why do you keep trying to hold my hand?"
Hermione blushed and let go. "Sorry. Habit." She shuffled her feet.
"Isn't it only a Muggle thing for couples though? And mum's and babies crossing the street?" he asked, frowning at her blush. What, was she trying to stake a claim on him or something?
Oh Gods, did she have a crush on him?
"Yes, you're right. Couples and mum's and babies. Like I said, habit. Sorry."
"But we're not a couple. And you're not my Mum."
"No! No, we're not a couple. For goodness sake Draco, like I said, it's just a habit."
"Who've you been holding hands with so much that's got you trying to hold my hand? Is there some Muggle bloke out here somewhere that's going to try to kick my arse?"
"No! Draco, don't worry about it. I said I was sorry."
"Then who…" Draco's eyebrow quirked up as he watched her stutter and shuffle.
"My Dad. And Harry. Like I said, sorry. I've probably been alone too long." Hermione's face reddened even more as she said that last bit. "Look I'm not making a pass at you or anything, my Dad always used to hold my hand. Everywhere we went, we'd hold hands, and it's something I just sort of kept up with Harry, especially when we were off looking for the Horcruxes and everything. You know, I guess for comfort and to make sure we wouldn't lose each other, in case we needed to disapparate quickly."
Hermione's words rushed out of her, as she looked up at him, seeing this person that she barely knew for so many years, who looked so familiar and so different. She knew the reason she kept touching him was because she trusted him. He'd saved her life during the War more than once, and she'd saved his too. They'd barely been friends the last time she saw him, but now, after all those months of chaos and then this last month of almost complete silence in her new life, she knew she was desperate for someone who knew her, that she could hold on to.
Draco looked down at a brown-haired, green-eyed girl who looked just like - and nothing like - a girl he used to loathe, then grudgingly admire in school, and then fought shoulder-to-shoulder with in the War. Here was the girl who he'd just been wondering about – was it only last night? Standing before him was the only person who willingly visited him in his family's home during his house arrest, who spoke for him during his trial, and who apparently thought he'd gone galavanting off to Europe months ago. She looked more than a little lonely. And sad.
Well, he knew how that felt. Looking more closely he could see the dark smudges under her eyes, and he realized that not only had her skin lost its golden glow, she looked kind of pale. Sickly, even. He definitely knew how that felt. All these months of strange frozen mystery foods and not enough time outdoors or in the company of other people had done strange sad things to his physique and his psyche. He sighed, empathy over-ruling his sense of propriety, and held out his hand.
"Come on, Little Girl, I'll hold your hand so you don't get lost. But I'm not carrying you on my shoulders, no matter how much you whine." He smirked down at her.
Now she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. "Did you just use humor, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco pushed up on her chin to close her mouth, just as she had done to him at the Library. "Yes, of course. I am a very witty individual, Ms. Granger. Now come with me. It's only four blocks to my flat, but I'll protect you from all the wild Muggle barbarians we encounter along the way."
With that, he tucked her small hand into his much larger one, and pulled her out the door.
To Be Continued