Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. Want to know how I know?
... I would never have written that epilogue. (I would never have been able to write that amazing book either, but that's a different story)
Chapter 11 / The Visit
"No way."
"I swear to Merlin and all his house elves I'm telling the truth."
She looked at him in amazement before shaking her head, having a hard time disguising her disbelieving smile.
"She honestly cornered me in the store demanding to know when our next date was."
As she tried not to gloat too much, she ended up snorting with held-back laughter, hunching over the casserole standing between them on the table. They hadn't bothered pulling out the plates. It turned out he was rather lazy when it came to dishes, and it seemed easier to just stick two forks in the caserolle, and voila. It was charmingly disordered.
"We had every nosy pair of middle-aged eyes on us by the time she was done telling me off... Hey, stop laughing. It was dreadful!"
"See, this is why I don't date," she exclaimed, pointing her fork at him with a slightly amused glint in her eyes. "It's just a whole lot of misunderstandings and expectations not being met. And not to mention the embarrassment."
He rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad. Plus all the bad dates are forgotten once you really connect with someone. If you don't try and fail, you will never know what it's like to succeed."
She watched him with raised eyebrows as he chewed meticulously.
"Since when did you turn into the never-wavering optimist?"
"I believe it was around the time you turned into a grumpy, old prude."
"I am certainly not a grumpy, old prude," she called indignantly, reaching into the casserole for another taste.
"Come on," he laughed, one of those rare occasions where his strangely perfect teeth showed. "You don't give any guy a chance. You've condemned dating without ever going on a real one, and you haven't had any fun in ages."
"How do you know how much fun I've had?"
"Oh yeah, when's the last time you got some?"
She gaped at him as his shoulders shook with amusement.
"I... That is... You... hmpf!"
She glared at him in indignation as he smirked smugly, enjoying his sweet victory.
"It's not like I'd run from my trainwreck of a relationship and straight into some...some... booty call."
Her glare grew fiercer when he guffawed at her comment.
"Stop laughing at my, you buffoon."
"You said booty call," he chuckled, shaking his head repeatedly. "I never thought the day would come... the glorious day when I would hear Head Girl Virgin Extraordinair say booty call."
"Well guess what," she snapped, putting her lips into an unintentional pout. "Not so virgin anymore!"
"Shame." He grinned, digging into the casserole again.
She watched him bend forwards, a lock of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he reached down. He pursed his lips together and rubbed them slightly against each other in a contemplating look as he studied the food they had managed to whip together somehow.
"Are you planning to return to London?" she asked curiously before licking her fork clean.
"No," he answered simply, still bowed forward, preventing her from seeing his face.
"No? Seriously?"
"Quite."
"But it's London," she protested. "Practically everyone from Hogwarts lives or works in the near vicinity. It's where we spent years of our life fighting for our world."
"Exactly."
She fixed him an annoyed look.
"How can you be so careless about not returning?"
"I don't have any friends there, my family has been gone for a long time. There's nothing there for me to return to," he told her, looking up to meet her gaze.
He shrugged indifferently, but she was certain she saw a flash of something in his large eyes.
"I still can't comprehend how you can say you'll never return. It's just...beyond me," she said, shaking her head. "Hey, you're hogging my part of the food. Get onto your own side!"
"I never said I would never return, I said it wasn't in my plans. But as we both know, plans can change," he commented. "And this isn't divided fairly. Your part is fuller."
"But certainly you would know if it's even likely that you will return. My part is fuller cause you've eaten as much as a bloody Hippogriff, you nitwit."
"I can never say never, Granger. I used to do that a lot, and I've already contradicted half those nevers. For one I'm sitting here having dinner with you, acting like a civilized human being. Secondly, I betrayed my family, something I swore I would never, ever do. And thirdly, you've had just as much as me, if not even more!"
"I suppose I've contradicted some of my nevers too. Like falling for your slick charm and exchanging spit with you. And are you even hungry, or are you just complaining for the fun of it?"
"My charms are irresistible to any human female, regardless of age and supposed morals. And why do you care if I'm hungry or not? It's a matter of principle, woman."
"Oh my, aren't I just lucky to be blessed with your sacred presence. I don't see any of these women nearby."
She craned her neck and pretended to be searching for the invisible hoard of women.
"I've already shagged them all."
"Git," she laughed, throwing a pea at him which he elegantly dodged.
He just smirked in reply, continuing to munch on the now slightly cold food. Eventually, Hermione cleared the casserole off the table, cleaned it with a very well rehearsed spell and summoned the ice cream, all within a frighteningly small amount of time. She turned towards the couch in his living room, where he had parked himself firmly in the far corner. A loud whistle caught his attention, and when he looked up the ice cream was heading towards him at an alarming speed. Hermione laughed loudly as he barely caught it with the tip of his fingers and swore furiously.
"I thought you were a seeker," she remarked lightly, smiling good naturely as she sat down next to him.
"Yeah, seeker, not keeper," he answered, taking the spoon from her hand.
They ate in silence for a long while, each keeping to their own thoughts, though neither's mind strayed far from the person sitting next to them.
"So, when are you leaving?" he asked then, stabbing his spoon into the slowly melting ice cream.
"When it feels right."
She licked her spoon clean, savoring the delicious taste on her tongue.
"How very vague of you."
She glared at him, swallowing her latest bite. "I just want to make sure I don't scream at Ron the second I see him."
"What's so wrong with screaming? Maybe you need to react a bit. It doesn't sound like you actually have yet."
"I don't do those kind of things. It's not me. I don't scream, or yell, or even speak impolitely to most people."
His eyebrow rose higher as she spoke. "I take it I'm the exception?"
Hermione shot him a sheepish grin, pulling the box in his grip closer. "Suppose you are. Don't you feel special?"
"If I'm the only one who can make you act human, then yes I do feel special."
"I bed your pardon," she exclaimed, forgetting the ice cream she was trying to dig up. "I act like a human being around everyone."
"Never arguing or yelling or forgetting your manners is not human, Granger," he spoke, his voice a deep rumble forcing her to suppress small shivers. "Manners are a mask, and a quite necessary one at that, but they are also made to come off at some point."
"I just think people deserve my respect," she defended, her shoulders falling slightly.
"No, people deserve to see you, not some boring clone where you've hidden the most interesting parts of yourself in fright of offending the public."
He scraped the bottom of the box clean with his spoon and threw it aside as his comment sunk in. Were anyone even interested in anything beyond the professional business woman, the cordial neighbour and the one they small talked with in the elevator? She frowned as she fixed her gaze on him, slightly shaken by the sudden realisation that he really was interested in knowing her, on a level going deeper than anyone else had ever bothered to dig. There was something about the fact that the most unlikely person in this world, both wizard and muggle, wanted to know her good sides and bad, her passion and her mind; it excited her to a point she had never reached before.
He must have felt her gaze on his, as he soon stopped guiding the spoon towards his mouth and looked up to meet her slightly amazed stare. Perhaps he misinterpreted her expression, or perhaps not. Either way, he grinned mischievously before changing the direction of the spoon, raising his eyebrow challengingly at her in the process. Her mind went comfortably numb as she kept her eyes locked with his, but a sudden roaring of flames made her jump in alarm.
"Hey, mate, you're late," someone called, but it seemed they were only calling through the fire, not actually bothering to stick their head in it.
"Oh shit," he exclaimed, shooting her an apologetic look. "I'll be right there."
She gave him a reassuring smile as she got off the couch, following in his tracks as he found his shoes and headed towards the door.
"See, these are the occasions where you're allowed to be mad," he told her, smiling sideways at her as he held the door open.
"Why would I be? You obviously had a plan with someone that you forgot. Should I throw a tantrum because I'm not the only person in the world, would that make you happy?"
He shook his head. "You really are very different from any girl I've ever met, Granger."
He left her with a widening smile by her own gate, her mind working at an alarming speed to analyze his parting line. It left her in such a daze she didn't even see someone standing by her front door until they gave a tiny cough. Hermione nearly jumped a mile, her hand reaching over her racing heart in an effort to calm down.
"Oh, I'm sorry," a woman somewhere in her 40s laughed. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"That's alright. I was a bit lost in my own world," Hermione reassured her, giving a polite smile.
"You're Hermione?"
She nodded wearily, and pushed her door open, trying not to stare too quizzically at the foreign woman.
"I'm Ella Lewbell," she said loudly, following Hermione inside quite uninvited, and then added rather unnecessary; "Lola's mother."
"Oh hi, pleasure to meet you."
Hermione beamed and held out her hand, but Ella eyed it in slight disdain.
"Yes...likewise," she replied unconvincingly.
"May I help you?"
Hermione found this woman's presence rather unnerving. She just stood there, her critical gaze following every inch of the small living room they resided in.
"I know that you are a personal friend of Draco Mason, who my daughter went on a highly successful date with."
Right.
"And if you would put in a good word for her, that would definitely by very much appreciated by my entire family. They are so perfect together, and such a wonderful opportunity wasted would be preposterous."
Hermione's eyebrows shot skywards. "Look, Mrs Lewbell, I don't even know your daughter. And even if I did, he's not a person who takes orders from anyone. If he wants to continue his relationship with Lola, he will, if he doesn't, there's nothing I can do about it."
"But surely, not even you can overlook this grand opportunity," the woman remarked in exasperation.
"I'm afraid I don't understand which opportunity you're referring to," Hermione replied in honest, feeling rather confused at the turn this conversation was taking.
"Draco Malfoy is the only pureblooded wizard in this town, let alone in this part of the country. I refuse to let my youngest daughter marry anything less, a thought that is nothing short of preposterous. Of course, I don't expect you to understand..."
Hermione's blood froze. "What makes you think he's a Malfoy?"
"Oh, please, Ms. Granger. I am not a moron. I have had my eyes on him for years, followed him in every article I could find. I could not believe my luck when he suddenly showed up on my doorstep!"
As Ella spoke, her face lit up, though in a slightly more manic way than Hermione appreciated. Her presence had reached beyond unnerving by this point, and the nerve of this woman was beginning to flare a certain anger in the pit of her stomach.
"I am afraid I can't help you," Hermione replied coldly, trying to keep her anger in check.
"I do not expect someone of your own heritage to understand how important it is to keep the pureblooded families just that; pureblooded. They are the only true wizards, the ones worthy of the powerful gift of magic. It is of outmost importance that our lines of pure blood merge to one and continue on."
Hermione had been standing completely still as Ella spoke in a strong voice, the anger she felt getting harder to contain by the second. Ella stood tall, waiting for her reply while staring down on the shorter woman with badly disguised disgust.
"Get out."
"Excuse me?"
"I said; Get out!", Hermione bellowed. "Get out of my home, right this moment."
"I have never!"
Ella looked severely offended, her nose now pointing towards the ceiling.
"How dare you come into my home and insult me with your patronising speeches. I have no intention of luring my friend into an arranged marriage so you can preserve your precious lineage," she added fiercely, pulling up to her full height.
"Don't you dare speak to me that way, you lowly mu—"
The rest of her voice was drowned out by the sound of the front door banging open, hitting the wall with an earth shattering bang.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
A/N: Hey everyone. Hope you've all been enjoying DH as much as I have (though in my mind the epilogue never happened. And might I just add: RECEDING HAIRLINE? I beg your pardon!). Anywho. I hope most people have finished it and is ready for more fanfiction to embark upon, even if this fic is even more AU than it was before DH came along.
Thanks everyone for the reviews, especially rid3r chick, who wrote a very thorough one that I enjoyed immensely. Also thanks to 1HarryPotterFan, amrawo, The Princess Wolf,Luvs-Zac-Efron, cmtaylor531 and carly for their contributions :D.