Spellbound
Chapter Two
With a pop, Hermione and Rose appeared in their living room. Ron greeted his wife with a kiss on the lips and gave Rose a quick kiss on the forehead.
"What took you guys so long? I figured you'd be back an hour ago."
"Rosie was a good girl, so we got ice cream. And found Hugo a present since he didn't go. And we ran into Malfoy and his son at the ice cream parlor."
"Oh, really? How'd that turn out?" Ron laughed a little.
"He was... Well, he was Malfoy. Only, not as rude. And technically, he asked about you."
"What do you mean, technically?"
Hermione smiled at her husband and winked. "So, is everyone still coming for dinner?" she asked, unloading food and two tiny toy brooksticks for her children.
"Yes, ma'am. They'll be here after they get off work. Hugo's taking a nap. And apparently," he glanced over at the couch, "so is Rose."
"I got you something."
Ron looked around. There was nothing left for Hermione to take out of her bags. "Well, what is it, then?"
With a flick of her wand, Hermione opened the door and something flew inside and skidded to a halt in front of Ron. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"That's a Firebolt 8500. Are you sure it's for me?"
"I know it's not the newest model, and I know I really don't know much about brooms, but according to the saleswitch it's a very satisfactory broom."
"It's more than satisfactory, 'Mione. It's magnificent." He said, feeling the handle and looking the broomstick up and down.
"Besides, someone had to teach the kids to fly. And it sure as hell isn't going to be me. You know how well I handle it."
"You would let me teach our 2 and 4 year olds how to fly?"
"Of course."
Ron's smile was priceless. "You are one hell of a woman, Hermione. You know that? You're perfect. And beautiful. And you can cook. I couldn't ask for anything more. I really couldn't." He sat the broom down and embraced Hermione and kissed her.
"Oh, Ronald." Hermione laughed.
"What? I'm not lying."
"You're pretty great yourself." She laughed again. Ron took her by the hand and began dragging her upstairs to their bedroom. "Ron, I can't! I have to start cooking!" She giggled and tried tugging away from him.
"You're a witch, aren't you? You can speed it up if you need to." Ron smiled as he watched the light dance in her eyes.
"Yeah, I can speed something up."
"I meant the food!" Ron laughed as Hermione turned and began pulling him up the stairs instead. "Yes!"
"Oh, shut up, Ronald!" And with that, she latched their bedroom door shut and pushed him onto the bed.
x x x
Draco sat in his study, quill to parchment, not knowing where to start. He needed to talk to someone but didn't know who to ask. Well, one person came to mind, but he wasn't sure she'd even say yes. He looked up as he heard the door open and saw a little blonde head peek in.
"Daddy? Can we write 'Mione a letter? I wanna tell her about Mummy's jewelry box."
"Sure, we can. Come sit on my lap and tell me what you wanna say." Scorpius climbed up and went to grab for the quill in Draco's hand. He stuck it in the ink well and hesitated.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, son?"
"How do you spell 'Mione?"
Draco chuckled. "How do you think you spell it?"
Scorpius thought for a minute and began writing "Dear Miney...". When he was finished, he hopped off of Draco's lap looking very proud of himself.
"Go find our owl and I'll get this all sealed up and we can send it, okay?"
Scorpius ran out of the room and Draco pulled out another piece of parchment and wrote a quick note to Hermione. If he really needed someone to talk to, this was his only chance to do it or he'd lose his nerve to ask. By the time Scorpius made it back with their owl, he had the letters all sealed up in an envelope. He attached the envelope to the owls leg and told it where to go. Wishing it luck as it flew out the window, since he had no utter idea where Hermione actually lived.
"Do you think she'll like my letter, Daddy?"
"I think she'll love it." Draco said with a smile, hoping she wasn't too shocked by his.
x x x
A great big tawny owl rapped at the window in the kitched just as the Weasley's, Potter's, and Teddy Lupin sat down to eat. When Ron opened the window, the owl flew past him and landed right in front of Hermione, pecking at anyone besides her that tried touching it. She took the envelope off of its leg and it took off, pecking Ron on the head as he flew past and back out the window.
"Who's that from, 'Mione?"
When she opened the envelope up and saw the scribbles of a 5 year old, she smiled. "Malfoy's son. Apparently, I'm his new best friend. He's a cute little kid. Nothing at all like Malfoy." And then she unfolded Draco's letter and she furrowed her brow.
"What is it?" Ron asked, worried.
"He says that it was nice seeing me today and that he has a question for me. He wants me to meet him at The Leaky Cauldron tomorrow around noon. He says he's having marriage troubles, among other things, and needs some advice and can't turn to anyone in his family and hopes I'll go chat with him." Everyone in the room was speechless. "Can I go?" She asked, slowly and skeptically.
"Are you asking permission?" Ron asked.
"Well, I guess so... I mean, I know he isn't exactly a friend, but he is reaching out. And maybe I can help him."
"So, what are you asking to go for? If that's what you want to do, who am I to stop you?"
"The only men I've ever been alone with, besides collegues, are family. I don't know what the protocol for non-family males is..." Hermione was confused. Why was she jumping at the chance to go help someone who was never anything but a menace to her all through school? Someone who never did anything to help anyone else, just himself?
"Then, go. I can't stop you." Ron's voice had an edge to it.
"You are my husband, you know. You're allowed to have a say. Why do you think I asked? I could have just said I was going and screw what you want, but I didn't." Hermione shot back. She didn't understand why he was getting so angry. And at the same time, she did.
Ron didn't understand why she wanted to go and visit with Malfoy. After all the hell he put her through in school and after all the names he called her, it just didn't make sense. But there was a lot that Ron didn't understand these days. Hermione always seemed like her mind was somewhere else. Some days, she seemed distant and a tad bit cold. And then, other days, like today, she was warm and friendly and even up for a midday roll in the hay. But she wouldn't talk. Not to him or Harry, or Ginny even. And definitely not Mrs. Weasley. No matter how hard they all tried, she would clam up and change the sunbject or start talking to somebody else. He was happy enough, so he didn't understand why she didn't seem to be.
After everyone had left and the kids had gone to bed, Ron and Hermione were cleaning up the kitchen. He hated when she decided to clean the muggle way, but at the same time, it was a quirk of hers, and God only knows how much he loved her quirks.
"Say, 'Mione, after you get done tomorrow, lets have Mum watch the kids and go out to eat. We can go to that one Indian muggle place you love so much."
"Well, my mum wants me to stop by over there after I get done, but if it's not too late when I get back, we can go." There she went again. Distant. She didn't even look at him as she spoke.
Ron gave up on conversation and finished doing what he was doing. When he got done he headed quietly upstairs and went to bed. A couple hours later, when Hermione finally came to bed, Ron put his arm around her and buried his face in her neck and hair. Hermione found his hand with hers and gave it a squeeze and Ron knew she was sorry for the way she had acted. With that, he fell asleep, content with himself and his wife. But lying next to him was another story. Hermione had trouble sleeping that night. Her mind was racing about what the next day had in store and wondering why she was so anxious. Holding Ron's hand while he was asleep was comforting, but only so much. It didn't help the way it used to. Finally, after hours of her mind buzzing, it became so tired that it seemed like it just shut off and she drifted off into a sleep racked with weird dreams and confusing thoughts.
x x x
Draco sat at a table in The Leaky Cauldron, fingering at the hair of a little redheaded porcelain doll. Hermione hadn't written him back saying she'd be there, so he knew it was a long shot, but he was waiting anyways. He had picked up the doll as a... Well, he wasn't exactly sure why he'd bought the doll for Rose, but he had seen it in a shop window and couldn't resist. And he thought he had remembered a birth announcement a couple years ago about a little boy, so while he was buying the doll, he picked up a tiny scale model Quidditch field with tiny flying players. He wasn't sure what to get a 2 year old boy, but he thought it'd be okay. Noon came and went and Draco's hopes that she would show up were deminishing, when suddenly he saw her. Her brunette hair was slicked back in a low bun and she was wearing a jade sweater that didn't do her justice. She looked stunning. And as she walked to his table, he realized his palms were sweating.
"Her-hermione. I didn't think you'd show." He said, standing up and pulling out a chair for her.
"Why wouldn't I?" She said, sitting down and smiling. "You asked."
"I-i know... I don't know why I thought you would... Or wouldn't."
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked as Draco sat back down. "You seem nervous."
"Sorry... I don't know what's the matter. Uhm, " he picked up the doll. "I got this for Rose. And you have a little boy, don't you?"
Hermione took the doll and smiled. "Yes, Hugo. He's two."
"I'm not exactly sure what two year olds like. I wasn't even good at picking out things for my own. But I thought he'd like this some day." And he handed her the tiny Quidditch field.
"Oh, he'll love this now. He'll think the players are funny."
"Oh, good. Good..."
"So, what did you want to talk about? I might not have any advice, but I'm told I'm a good listener."
Draco glanced around at all the people in the pub. "Let's go somewhere else. There's too many ears around." He didn't want to air all his problems around people who already knew half of them anyways.
"Alright. Where to?"
"I think I know the perfect place." Draco took Hermione's hand, with a nod of approval first and they disapparated from the pub and reappeared in an alleyway with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.
"Paris?" Hermione was confused.
"I figured there's no eavesdroppers this far away. And if they do, they really won't care what we have to say."
"This is my favorite place in the world. How did you know?"
"I didn't. But I guess I chose okay, then." Draco smiled. "Let's walk?"
"Yes, let's." Hermione returned his smile, but couldn't shake the tingling feeling where Draco's hand had been wrapped around hers for that brief moment in time.
X X X