About a Boy and a Girl
Chapter Five
The doorbell rang. Hermione left Erin to her father for the meantime while she went to fetch her visitor from the building's main entrance. Draco was leaning on a wall when she opened the door. She motioned for him to follow her inside.
Hermione's couldn't help but watch Draco's reaction when he entered the apartment complex. It was typical of him to find something worth criticizing in a place below what he established as standard. All the time, though, he was looking at the floor as they took the path to Hermione's flat. Apparently, he was in deep thought. So deep, in fact, he almost didn't notice when Hermione stopped in front of a door and opened it.
"Over here," she said, snapping him back to the present and gesturing inside. "Make yourself comfortable." He took off his coat and hung it on the rack beside the door. That was when Hermione recognized a handkerchief wrapped around his hand that had rep spots on it.
He followed Hermione to the living room. "Good afternoon, sir," he greeted Mr. Granger formally.
"Dad, Draco. Draco, Dad," Hermione said, sitting down on the couch.
Mr. Granger acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Have a seat, boy." He took the seat beside Hermione who was now watching Erin go from one corner of the room to another. Hermione's father was fixed on a football game on the television, only tearing his eyes away for a few seconds to check on what Erin was up to.
He stared at the television, not really seeing the images drifting in front of him. His mind was all tangled from the meeting he had just come from. He sighed deeply, loud enough for everyone in the room to turn and look at him. Hermione did not dismiss it immediately. He looked back into her brown eyes. The look she gave him was a mixture of concern, confusion and curiosity.
She was just about to open her mouth when Mrs. Granger emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and announced, "Lunch is ready." Hermione got up and had a quick word with her mother.
The two women talked for a short moment, her mother casting swift glances on Draco. The conversation ended with a nod.
Erin and Mr. Granger were already seated on the dinner table but Draco still remained on the couch. Hermione took his arm and pulled him up. "You're staying for lunch. We're having roast beef." The two of them joined the others at the table.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Granger," he greeted with the same robotic tone. She flashed him a motherly smile.
"I'm glad you could join us," she told him.
"It's my honor," he answered politely.
They said their grace then helped themselves to the roast beef and stir fried broccoli and baby corn. While everybody else filled their plates, Hermione noticed that Draco hadn't even picked up his knife and fork. Wanting to be a good host, she picked up his plate and got him the largest slice of roast beef and a heaping serving of vegetables. Draco could only look as she returned the plate, now full of delicious smelling food, back in front of him.
"Eat," she said as she started slicing a piece of her roast beef. "We'll talk later," she continued but this time in a quieter tone." Draco picked up his knife and fork and began devouring his meal.
"So, Draco," Mrs. Granger begun. He looked up at her. Erin was sitting on her lap as she fed him smaller pieces of broccoli. "Where do you go to school?"
He swallowed down the food in his mouth and answered, "At Hogwarts. Same as Hermione."
Mrs. Granger looked at Hermione and said. "You never told us that."
"Well…" She did not know what to say but it didn't matter anymore. Her mother resumed interviewing Draco.
"Are you also in Gryffindor?" she asked, wiping Erin face with a napkin. Draco almost swallowed his broccoli whole at this question. Hermione stopped chewing.
"No. Actually, I'm in…" He hesitated. "Slytherin."
Draco did not expect her reaction. "That's swell, isn't it? I heard Gryffindor and Slytherin were always up against each other. It's a good thing you two were able to rise above the animosity and become friends," she said happily. "Everyone else should follow after you two. Right, Harold?" she said, elbowing Mr. Granger's arm. All Draco could do was nod. Hermione drank some water to hide the onset of a smile.
All the while, Mr. Granger kept silent as the exchange continued before him. But he kept a close eye on Draco, stealing suspicious glances when he had the chance. Not friends. Hmph. We'll see something about that. He's her boyfriend. Just look at the way they look at each other. He glared with disgust. He turned his gaze down on his food at once when the lad's eyes lingered on him for some time. He just smiled mechanically when his wife asked him something.
Dinner ended after hours, it seemed for Draco, of interrogation. He felt as though she knew almost everything about him after one sitting. But he liked her. She was a nice and sweet woman, exactly the opposite of his own mother.
Hermione's mother started collecting the empty plates when Hermione suddenly shot up from her chair, stopping her from grabbing her plate. "Why don't you let us do the cleaning up?" she said, taking the short stack of plates and giving them to Draco. "And then you, Dad and Erin should go watch the news or something," she continued, ushering everyone, except Draco, out of the room. Mr. Granger surreptitiously looked at Draco distrustfully.
Once everyone had gone, she told Draco, "Okay. Let's wash some dishes," and began collecting the remainder of the dishes and utensils from the table. They stepped over to the sink. Hermione asked, turning on the faucet, "Have you ever done this before?"
"You're honestly asking me if I've washed dishes before? Come on, Hermione. You're smarter than that," he remarked. It seems some of her mother's overflowing positive energy had managed to find its way into his system. Minor improvement but good all the same.
"Yep. That is right. So I'll do the dishes and questions while you do the talking and explaining. Alright? So let's begin," she said, picking up a plate. "What has you all upset?"
"I think you mean who and what."
"Okay… Who and What made you upset today?"
His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Just Pansy, the Parkinsons and my genius parents." He paused to lean back on the counter beside the sink. "Do you know who my girlfriend is?"
"My guess is Pansy Parkinson," she answered uncertainly, not really knowing where everything was heading.
"Wrong," he said matter-of-factly. He continued in the same manner, "Because I don't have a girlfriend. All I have is a bloody fiancée!" His voice had grown loud that it worried Hermione a bit that he might have been heard by the others. But the silence in the hallway assured her otherwise.
That revelation was something you wouldn't normally hear from an average seventeen-year-old. But in the wizarding world, pureblood marriages are still in order to preserve the ancient lineage of those at the high end of society, or as they consider themselves to be. Pureblooded wizards rarely married for love. It was more for (a) blood heritage, (b) reputation, (c) power, (d) wealth or (e) all of the above.
"Arranged marriage?" she asked. She actually sounded so let down by this news but she wasn't really sure she should be feeling that way.
Draco's anger was stemming from the recollections of that meeting. "No, it wasn't!" he exclaimed, turning around and slamming his fist on the hard surface of the counter. "It was a forced marriage," he added in a voice that was barely audible.
There was a long and awkward silence as Hermione stopped her questions and proceeded to finish the dishes. She was giving him some time to cool off. She turned off the faucet and got two mugs and placed them on the counter. She put the kettle on the stove. "Tea?" she offered Draco. She did not wait for a response as she poured two cups of tea. She brought them to the island in the middle of the kitchen and pulled out two stools. Draco took one of them.
The hot tea coursed through his body and a welcome calming effect washed over him. Hermione could see the tea lighten his features. She figured it was better to hold a conversation that way – calm and relaxed, opinions and thoughts fueled by clear thought and not raging emotions.
The silence was only temporary. "Are you ready to talk now?" she said slowly.
"Just ask away if you think I am," he replied. Hermione looked inside his mug and discovered he had gulped everything down.
She did not wait long to ask her next question. "Tell me. What happened?"
"I went to the Parkinsons today. I was going to ask them to reconsider calling off the wedding. What I didn't know is that my parents would be there," he started.
Draco was met by his mother and father at the Parkinsons' enormous receiving room. They had been discussing something in hushed tones when they saw him coming through the door.
Narcissa approached him with widespread arms and gave him a hug which he had no intention to return. "Draco, darling." She cupped his face between her hands. "How have you been? And Erin? How is he?"
He gave her a piercing look. He wasn't about to buy all this crap from her. "Don't feign concern, Mother. No one is watching," he admonished, stepping back to get away from his mother's reach. This remark offended her as shown by the scowl she was giving her son.
Lucius stepped between them and looked at Draco reprovingly with those cold gray eyes. He drawled, "Aren't you being disrespectful, Draco. That is no way of talking to your mother."
Draco kept looking ahead, past his parents' critical stares. "What are you doing here?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Someone was kind enough to alarm us about your visit that was probably up to no good. We thought it best to intercept before you go and ruin everything for the family."
He scoffed. "Haven't you done enough of that already, Father?" His voice was filled with so much contempt for this man.
His mother stepped around her husband and slapped Draco hard. He could feel his left cheek stinging after the hand's contact. But his expression went unchanged. Pain was nothing when his mind was set on one thing: getting his own future back.
Narcissa Malfoy had never lifted a hand on any of her children. But extreme commitment to her beloved husband clouded over her thoughts. The action almost came out of nowhere. Her breathing was fast and labored, her heart pumping blood really fast.
She grabbed Draco's face and forced him to look at her. "Now you listen! The Parkinsons were more than willing to agree to this bargain. We owe them a lot for that. It's only right that you show some gratitude."
Draco yanked off his mother's hand and he felt her long nails scratch his flawless skin. "I should be thankful for this? You mean to say that I should actually be grateful that I am having my life ruined?"
Narcissa was holding something back. Lucius took over the explanation.
"Little did I know, we were broke. Father blew out all our money during the war – rewards, bribes, and other vain Death Eater activities. By the end, with the Dark Lord's demise, our wealth went down with him. And I never even knew any of this until today.
"Father told me that the money we've been living on for the past year belonged to the Parkinsons. Father and Mr. Parkinson go back a long time and are very close acquaintances. When Father approached him about this financial turmoil we are in, he never hesitated to help." He breathed deeply. "But that's only because Father did not hesitate about agreeing to a deal Mr. Parkinson had arranged."
"You traded me for money," he whispered grudgingly. "You've truly become a greedy and selfish man. What kind of a father are you? You're soulless. It will be you who will bring about this family's downfall."
"Do you not understand, Draco? This was for the family. Have you no gratitude at all, son." Lucius sounded very arrogant.
"Why would they want their only daughter to marry somebody penniless like me?" he asked sharply.
"She wants you. They only want their daughter's happiness," his father said.
"Good for her. Her parents want her to be happy, my parents want me otherwise." He wanted to pummel his father into the ground and punch him until he breathed his last breath.
Lucius raised his voice. "What do you want to do? Marry a Mudblood and have filthy little half-breeds?"
A knot was forming in Draco's throat. His hand was clenching into such a tight fist that his knuckles were turning white. He stepped past Lucius and stared at the large mirror behind him. His father's back was reflected upon it. With a deep breath and his anger flaring, he threw a powerful punch at it. Glass flew everywhere. Draco looked at his hand. Shards of glass sliced through his skin making it bleed and creating some deep gashes.
As Narcissa stared disbelievingly at what her son had done, Lucius remained indifferent. He had witnessed many times Draco's uncanny displays of rage. To him, this was no different.
"Draco!" a high-pitched voice screamed from above. It was loud enough for Pansy to hear it from the upstairs and she was now scrambling to get to the injured Draco. Sensing this, Draco knew he had to flee. He doesn't need any of this. Perhaps he'll come back some other time when conditions were better.
As he was leaving, he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. A show of concern? He shrugged it off and hurried off to the door to escape his parents and Pansy. The door closed behind him with a thud and left Pansy staring after him through the opacity of the barrier between them.
He Apparated to Diagon Alley and stayed at a dark alley. His hand was still bleeding and he went to do something about it. He used his wand to remove the glass shards and wrapped his white handkerchief around it to stop the flow of blood. It would have to do for the moment.
He rested his head on the wall of the alley. Then he fumbled inside his pocket and took out his cellphone.
His story ended there. Hermione's brows were furrowed as she listened. She didn't say anything immediately. Instead, she took his injured hand and took off the handkerchief that was, as she now knew, covered with blood. It was not a pleasant sight.
"Why didn't you heal it with a spell?" she asked, still looking at the wounds.
"I want to remember what I did today," he answered, looking at Hermione as she examined his hand.
"You should've at least cleaned it." She left him in the kitchen and returned a bit later carrying a first-aid kit. She started cleaning the cuts. She stole a quick glance at his face and noticed he doesn't even wince once. He just watched her as she dabbed disinfectant on the wounds. As she continued, she decided to ask, "So what are you planning to do now?"
He sounded sure. "I'm going to ask Professor Dumbledore for a scholarship. I want to continue my studies without owing any more debts to the Parkinsons." Draco wasn't the type of person who would ask for help unless he was really desperate. And for him, this was a desperate situation. "I'll give back to the school after I graduate."
"That's a great idea," she said, really meaning it. "But what about the other things like food and shelter?"
"I don't need to worry about those things. The house is still ours and so are the house elves. We just have to live more frugally and I think I need to find a job," Draco said seriously. This was a drastic lifestyle change. He continued, "And I don't think I can pay you 30 Galleons for babysitting Erin. I don't have that anymore." He sounded ashamed.
"You know, I don't mind at all. You shouldn't even be paying me. I presented myself to babysit for Erin so it's more of a volunteer thing." Hermione was now bandaging his hand. "And mom told me Mr. Kennedy from the bookshop downtown called. I got the afternoon shift. So it's all great. And I can still look after Erin during the mornings."
Draco took his hand and examined Hermione's work. He started flexing it. "Can you help me find a job?"
"Of course, I can!" she replied enthusiastically. Then she continued, her tone uncertain, "There's just the matter of if anyone will accept you."
"Convince them," he said. "Please."
"I'll do what I can."
Draco and Erin ended up staying for supper after Mrs. Granger's insistence. They left at eight in the evening and Erin was getting really sleepy by that time.
Hermione went with them outside the building. She was just about to say goodbye when she was taken aback by Draco. Draco hugged her despite Erin being between the two of them. He felt Hermione's body suddenly go rigid and he couldn't help but smile at this. "Thank you," he whispered. When he let go of her, he laughed at Hermione's expression. Her face was blank, as if she had just been Petrified. She was still speechless. He laughed. "You're welcome?" Still no response. "Bye."
Hermione nodded.
I know it took some time to put this up but here it is. Tell me what you think.