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.
Chapter 06 Getting to Know You
Hermione and Draco had been laughing for two solid hours, swapping their most comical stories about their experiences when their Wizarding lives collided with their Muggle lives. They'd been through two pitchers of Newcastle and one vegetarian pizza, and Draco was just considering ordering a third pitcher when Hermione happened to look down at her wristwatch.
"Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed. "It's nearly 10:30, and I have practice in the morning!"
"Practice for what?" Draco asked. Hermione hadn't mentioned anything, all day, about what she did for a living, or even how she'd ended up here in Little Whinging as a Muggle, and he realized only now that he'd never bothered to ask. 'Wow, way to go. You've found one person to talk to in three months and you don't even ask her what she does for a living?' he rolled his eyes inwardly. 'Nice to see, deep down inside you're still a complete tool, Malfoy.'
"Oh, it's nothing really, it's just a music thing I do with some people I met at a local church. But I'm the only violin player so I really do have to be there, and I really still need to practice tonight." Hermione was collecting her borrowed jacket and waving to the waitress to get the bill as Draco frowned.
"You play the violin?" he asked. "I didn't know you played any musical instrument."
"Oh? Yes, well I guess I've been playing since I was seven, but music wasn't a big study program at Hogwarts so I never brought my violin with me. It's really just for my own fun, I don't really play classically. I've always leaned towards American bluegrass, it's just so much more fun to play and bounce around and sing and dance… And I just made myself sound like an idiot, didn't I?" Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Really, it's just for fun, but since I joined a group I am trying to take it somewhat seriously. Especially since I don't have a job yet, what else am I going to do in my abundant free time?"
Draco was completely nonplussed. She liked to bounce and dance and sing while playing American bluegrass on the violin?
What the hell was American bluegrass?
Draco repeated his last question out loud.
"Well," Hermione said as she was putting on her jacket and hopping down from her barstool. "I guess it's a combination of American Country music with equal parts of gospel and folk. It's a lot of old traditional stuff mostly, but the group I've joined is trying to bring more of the contemporary bluegrass over to a larger audience. I read on the web the other day that one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek, is coming to town in a couple months." She looked at Draco expectantly. "Was that a big garbled mess to you, Lord Malfoy?"
"Oh, most definitely yes, Ms. Granger. I haven't got a clue what you just said. Except the web thing. I've figured that out from the Library. The Muggles use those plastic computer boxes to read information posted on electronic bulletin boards from all over the world." Draco looked over the bill as he reached for his wallet.
"I can split that with you, I actually have cash on me today, miracle of miracles." Hermione made to grab at the tab, but Draco held it up over his head so she couldn't reach it.
"Ms. Granger, you have to be kidding. You've saved me months of agonizing heartache and misery by teaching me how to use my household appliances, with the bonus of joining me for the most decent meal I've had in three months. This one is on me, my dear." Draco used his most prim and aristocratic voice possible as he opened his wallet to fish out a few pound notes.
"I had a really good time too, I haven't laughed that much in ages – holy cow, Draco you can't do that!" Hermione clapped her hand over his wallet, which he'd had splayed wide open, flashing hundreds in pounds for the entire restaurant to see.
"What?" Draco flinched and looked up at her.
"Draco, you look like a very wealthy, very foolish tourist sitting there with your wallet wide open and that much money hanging out."
"Well its bloody dark in here and it's hard to read the tiny writing on these notes. Can you tell which is which? I left my reading glasses at home."
Hermione chuckled as she directed him towards a couple of twenty pound notes. "Honestly, you might as well paint a target..." A light bulb went off in Hermione's head. "Hey… when you were mugged, did your wallet get stolen?"
"No, I still have my wallet… well, yes, my cash was gone wasn't it? Hmmph, that was damned rude." Draco hadn't really thought of it, in light of his head wound and fancy new haircut.
"Well, Draco, I think I just solved a mystery for you. Being as you haven't done anything overtly odd or attention-grabbing since we left your flat, I am going to deduce that the individuals that popped you in the head with a beer bottle and left you lying unconscious in the street had probably been sitting near you in the pub and saw you, um, struggle, with the contents of your wallet. Really, that's got to be it! You got mugged for your money. It happens a lot, which is why you shouldn't carry so much cash or show it off around a lot of people. That's one reason why I usually use by bank card. Don't you have one? They're quite handy, and much safer than carrying cash." Hermione shrugged. "At least you didn't get shot, or stabbed, or –"
"I got hit in the head for my money?" Draco's gaping fish face was back. "I could have died! I could have been permanently brain damaged! The Surgeon who stitched my head told me I was half an inch from permanent injury! He said I was lucky to only have a concussion, that I could have… Merlin's beard, Hermione, I've been thinking this whole time I was attacked by people who KNEW me, or knew what I was, and I've been bloody terrified to go out on my own."
"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry. I can't imagine how different all of this is for you. But you have to understand, most people walk around with less than 50 pounds in their wallets, and a lot of people haven't got much more than that in their bank accounts. There are a lot of under-employed and unemployed people out there who would look at a person like you that doesn't seem to mind flashing their bulging wallets as a bit of a sitting duck. An easy target. Especially if you were alone."
"But that's barbaric! I could have been killed!"
"That's life, Draco. There are a lot of people in the world, and not all of them have good intentions. Best thing we can do is keep our guard up and live responsibly so we don't leave ourselves open to attack. Constant Vigilance, as Moody would say."
"We're not at war anymore, Hermione." Draco muttered.
"No, but there are still enemies among us. The enemy has just changed up a bit. At least they can't use magic!" Hermione waggled her fingers spookily at him.
"I would most assuredly be dead by now if they could." Draco dejectedly rubbed his face with his hands, and then raked his hands through his close-cropped hair. He could feel the itchy scar, a jagged x-mark that disappeared into his hairline above his left ear. Hermione noticed his action and pulled his head close to her own so she could inspect the spot he was rubbing.
"Wow, you really are lucky you don't have any permanent damage. Of course," she smiled at him, "your hair may grow funny around the scar. It might stick straight out!"
Draco groaned. "Cut it out, Granger. Now you're scaring AND depressing the shite out of me."
Hermione laughed again and grabbed his hand to pull him towards the exit. "Come on, you can walk me home and we'll fetch you a cab from there."
"Are you sure it's safe? I am not interested in getting mugged again, nor am I excited to bring barbarians chasing after you just for being around me. You're a bit on the small and twitchy side."
Draco smirked down at her as they walked out of the restaurant. She really was only about six or eight inches shorter than his 6'2" frame. Maybe it was all that hair….but no, her Muggle-tastic hair wasn't that much of an issue anymore either. Maybe it was just being this close to another person, and a female at that, that was making him feel so much larger than he usually did.
Or maybe it was the way her hand seemed so much smaller than his, wrapped around his own, once again. He motioned to her hand clasped around his.
"And you don't seem capable of walking down the street without holding someone's hand."
"Hey, don't go calling me twitchy, or I won't invite you to come with me tomorrow to my practice. And I am capable of walking down the street without holding hands, like I said earlier, it's just a habit. An old, bad, habit." Hermione tried to pull her hand back, but Draco wouldn't let go.
"It's all right Little Girl, terrified or not, barbarians or not, I'll get you home safe." Draco smiled at her, and Hermione smiled back.
"So," he said. "You're really inviting me to go with you to your Muggle American grass violin dance practice?"
Hermione burst into giggles. "American grass violin dance? It's a contemporary bluegrass band, and I won't be dancing. I only do that when I'm listening to music, not playing music."
Draco waved his hand in the air. "Semantics. So, do I get to go?"
"Do you want to?"
Draco shrugged his shoulders casually. "I don't work on the weekends, and tomorrow happens to be Saturday, which means I don't have anything to do except clean my flat and read another book. And honestly, Little Girl, I am tired of my flat, and," here Draco looked around covertly and then bent down to whisper in her ear, "after three months, I am just about sick of books. But don't tell Granger I said that, she'd punch me in the nose."
Hermione laughed and whacked his arm playfully. "Okay, Lord Malfoy, I take pity on your lack of weekend frivolities and permit you to accompany me to my band practice. Meet me right here, tomorrow morning at 9:45. But don't you knock books again, or I'll punch you in your ferrety nose."
"Oh, no. You didn't." Draco dropped her hand and turned to face her with a shocked look on his face.
"I did!" Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth to cover her giggles.
Draco rolled his eyes. She was far too funny, and fun to be around, for his own good. She poked fun at him, piqued his curiosity in the world around him, and more than anything Hermione seemed like a true kindred spirit. Another lonely soul out in this strange world.
But she fit in it so much better, and maybe, with her to guide him along, he would fit in too. 'At least well enough to not get myself bloody murdered,' he thought cynically.
"If you kindly do not mention the F-word ever, ever, ever again, I will not only accompany you in the morning, I will bring you coffee." Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched Hermione consider his offer.
"Oh, you so have a deal Mr. Malfoy. Something you should know about me, the fastest way into my heart is with coffee and music." Hermione sighed dramatically and leaned up against the brick building they'd paused at only one block from the Italian place they'd had dinner in. She opened her day-bag and dug through to the bottom, seeking her keys.
Draco's eyebrow lifted even higher. Coffee and music, indeed? Not books? She was full of surprises, his new friend.
"I've got you now, you little bugger!" She struggled, and the large notebook and small journal fell out, but she came up triumphantly with a small keychain with an assortment of multi-colored keys attached. Draco bent down and picked up her books as she threw her day-bag back over her shoulder and fit her key into the locked door. He handed the books to her when she turned back to him, propping the door open with her foot.
"Draco, I had a really good time today. I've got to say, it's completely amazing and oddly comforting to find you, of all people, out here with me in the regular world. Thanks for giving me a chance to help you out with all of your household questions."
Hermione smiled up at him. Her green eyes glittered in the streetlight. Her borrowed coat swallowed her up, and she'd had to push it up her arms to keep it from drowning her hands.
Draco thought she looked absolutely adorable.
'What?' he thought to himself. Then, with a 'what the hell' attitude, he held his hand out to her, and caught her hand. He flipped the back of it up, and pulled it to his mouth to kiss it.
"Ms. Granger, thank you so much for dragging me out for coffee, for answering all of my household questions, and for introducing me to the regular world. I will see you, right here, at 9:45 tomorrow morning." He smirked at her as he released her hand. "Goodnight, Hermione."
With that, he walked back towards the restaurant they'd eaten at, to find a cab to take him back home.
"Goodnight, Draco!" he heard her call behind him, then he heard a door slam, and then she was up her stairs and inside her flat.
/…/
Hermione's heart was pounding faster than her feet as she ran up the two flights of stairs to her fortress of a flat. The first floor was home to a hair salon that wasn't open past 6pm, even on the weekends, and her own front door was behind a locked staircase that adjoined their employee entrance. There was acres of open space around her, with plenty of privacy for her to practice her violin and singing without disturbing anyone. Her living room windows overlooked the street that housed the front of the salon, so she didn't open them much because of the smell. But her back studio windows, where she had her practice area, overlooked an open courtyard that was encircled by an eclectic assortment of businesses and shops, including an alley that opened next to the restaurant that she and Draco had dined at.
Draco.
Of all the people to bump into in her new, quiet life, he was a complete surprise. He was a contemporary, and they had so much history in so many different emotional ranges, that she couldn't help but reach out to him at every chance she could today. She knew that his changed features and his uncharacteristic bewilderment and helplessness now was making him more appealing to her than he ever could have back at Hogwarts or anywhere in the Wizarding world. There, the Malfoy's were masters of their universe, and Draco was nothing if not a Malfoy. He'd always been so arrogant, so formal, so collected. To stumble across him in the public Library – where he WORKED – of all places, and to have him lay his woes at her feet was endearing, at the least, and… despite her more sensible intentions, downright sexy, at best. It was as if God hand-delivered her someone to care for, someone who actually needed her and could use her insight, and would appreciate her presence. Draco was as lonely as she was, that much was obvious. And he was surprisingly funny, and smart, and his curiosity appealed to her sense of adventure. If he'd consent to being a companion, they could try all sorts of new things together!
When Hermione, Harry and Ron had been together in the world, they'd mostly been on the run, or devoted to the task of finding and destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes. There were no vacations or opportunities to explore the history of the countryside around them. They'd also barely been adults, and Hermione was only just getting used to the idea that she could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. And thanks to Harry's estate, she really could go wherever she wanted. She'd spent the last month imagining herself exploring the world alone, or maybe even in casual ways with her friend Sue and her family, but after today, well, as of today maybe her future wouldn't be quite so lonesome.
When her friend Sue mentioned her husband's bluegrass band was looking for a violinist, Hermione had been thrilled to get the chance to be a part of a group again. She'd always loved playing her violin, and was actually quite proficient at it, thanks to her parents, who besides being dentists, were also accomplished living-room musicians. Her mother had played the piano and the violin, and her father had played the mandolin, banjo, and guitar really well, and the bagpipes very poorly. But they had spent so much time laughing, and the music kept them close throughout the years.
Losing the music with her parents was one of the harder things she faced in them losing their memory of her. Playing with this new band was very therapeutic for her, and practicing her violin was definitely helping her work out her stress and abandonment issues.
When Shaun, the lead vocalist and mandolin player, told her that the other band mates and he had all decided she would be a great fit for their band, and given her a listing of all the artists, albums, and songs they wanted her to familiarize herself with, she'd tackled it like any other project in school. Wide open. Total focus towards her goal of perfection.
'Which is why, tonight, you will be working on those two Nickel Creek instrumentals or you'll fall behind, Little Girl.' Hermione smiled to herself. Draco thought he was making fun of her the way he said Little Girl with two very obvious and mocking capital letters, but she liked the way he'd nicknamed her hand-holding habit.
He might not realize it, but something as simple as a funny nickname made her feel so much more cared for than she had felt in, well, years.
Hmm, and he was meeting her in the morning to come watch her practice.
'Right,' she thought as she picked up her violin and adjusted the tuning, 'don't want to embarrass ourselves in front of Lord Malfoy tomorrow.' Hermione opened one of her studio windows out onto the courtyard and settled her violin into the crook of her neck. She glanced at her sheet music on the stand next to her, lifted her bow, and then she was off.
/…../
Draco stood on the sidewalk at the corner where the Italian restaurant opened up next to an alley that led to a large courtyard. He was standing under the streetlight, watching the cars for a cab, when he heard the sound of a violin behind him. It wasn't sad, lonesome wailing like he was used to in Wizarding symphonies: it was sweet, fast, and lively. He'd just cocked his ear up in the direction of the music when he saw an available cab and waved to it. As he opened the door and climbed in, listing his address to the driver, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of music it was he'd be watching Hermione play tomorrow.
/…../
At 9:45 the next morning, Hermione was standing at her front windows looking down at the street. She smiled when she saw Draco turn around the corner, and bounded out her flat door and down the stairs to her exit. She'd already carried her violin in it's gig-bag and her day-bag down, all she had to do was open the door at the bottom of her stairwell, and then the entrance door she shared with the salon, and there he was, coffee in each hand, and smirking at her in his oh, so Draco way.
"Good morning, Little Girl. May in interest you in some coffee?"
"Good morning Lord Malfoy, and yes you may." Hermione reached out her hand. "Which one?"
"They're both the same, black. I have sugar and creamers in my jacket pocket." He handed her a cup, and then reached into his pocket for a couple of sugars and creamer packs.
Hermione accepted three of each and propped her backside against the building while she constructed the perfect cup of coffee. Mission accomplished, she chucked her rubbish in the nearby trash bin and then grabbed her gear and slung the straps over her shoulders.
Hermione turned to Draco, and smiled. "You are my hero, Draco. I stayed up so late last night playing, I overslept this morning and in am desperate need of this," here she held up her paper cup, "heavenly ambrosia that you have so kindly brought to me. I will never call you the F-word again."
Draco quirked his eyebrow at his companion. "Really, Hermione? That's all I had to do in order to get you to obey my will? A single cup of coffee?"
"I never said anything about obeying your will! I said I wouldn't call you the F-word anymore!"
"Oh, didn't you get my owl this morning? I edited our conversation last night, replacing 'don't call me the F-word anymore' to 'obey my will in all things'. I'm sure you appreciate how much more satisfactorily that resolves our friendship. You'll obey me and I can do and say whatever I want."
Draco glanced down at her, feigning disbelief at her half-smile, half-gape. "What? No owl? Oh that's right, I don't have an owl, or the magical means to communicate with owls or other people. Or time travel to edit conversation. Well, I guess we'll stick with the original then." Draco sipped his coffee scrunched his face up as if he were remembering an unsavory thought. "No F-word, and you get all the coffee your heart desires. Say the F-word once, and I'll cut you off!"
Hermione was giggling at this point, and playfully bumped him with her shoulder.
"I had no idea you were so skilled at playful sarcasm Lord Malfoy. If I was another girl, I'd think you were flirting with me." The words popped out her mouth. There was nothing she could do about it, they were out there. 'Whoops,' she thought, and blushed.
Draco turned to her and took her day-bag out her right hand and slung it over his left shoulder. Then he moved her coffee to her right hand, and hooked her left hand into his arm. Her violin case was slung across her back, leaving her quite free and unburdened as they walked down the sidewalk towards Hermione's band practice.
"My dear Ms. Granger, how do you know I'm not?" he asked politely.
To Be Continued