A/N- Hello again! Sorry I didn't update sooner, real life is a bitch sometimes. So here's the next chapter. Thanks to those who reviewed/faved/followed. I'd really appreciate a couple reviews. Not that I'm asking or anything... *whistles nonchalantly*
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, a certain blonde would be hooked up with a certain brunette... ;)
Chapter Four
There was the faint sound of the telephone ringing when Draco awoke the next morning. He shot up out of bed, his hand searching for the muggle device on his nightstand. It was there, he knew it. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes his hand closed around the slick plastic, turning it on so he could talk.
"Hello?" Draco asked, stifling a yawn behind his hand. Dammit all, why weren't there more hours in the night?
"Hello, Mr. McDermitt," Mr. Linney was on the other side, his tone too chipper for the early morning light, "How are you?"
"Er… Fine?" The blonde propped his head up on a stack of pillows, not wanting to get out of bed, "How're you?"
There was the faint sound of laughter coming from the telephone in Draco's hand. It was not natural for someone to be that happy, "Good, good. Listen, my son is getting married next Tuesday and I forgot to tell you yesterday that I will be closing the office until Thursday, in which normal working hours will resume,"
Sighing in relief, the blonde settled back into his sheets, "Ah, well, tell him congratulations for me, yeah?"
Mr. Linney promised he would and signed off. Draco pressed the 'end' button, his eyelids growing heavy. He was going to fall back asleep, and he didn't have a care in the world because it was Saturday…
It was Saturday.
"Shit!" He cried, throwing the covers back sharply, "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiit,"
Bounding across the room he reached the oak dresser, yanking open drawers. Locating socks, jeans, a white-cotton t-shirt, and his leather wristwatch, Draco used the bathroom, got dressed, and brushed his teeth in record speed. He looked at the digital clock on the bathroom counter; it was nearly nine o'clock. He was going to be late!
Draco raced down the stairs as he attempted to put on his shoes while yanking his car keys out of the small bowl on the small table by the door. He didn't have time for breakfast; there simply wasn't enough time.
Starting up the car, Draco cursed again, this time more colorfully. All of these damned muggle contraptions! And, sod it all, there were so many buttons! Why did it need so many buttons?
Roaring down the dusty road, the blonde was immensely grateful when he reached the familiar crossroads. Making a sharp left, he pressed his foot against the pedal again and the pickup lurched forwards before settling back. It was not a pleasant feeling, but Draco had reached his destination. He slammed on the brakes and pulled the key out of the ignition. There were other cars in the long, sloping driveway. The old sign that was in serious need of a repaint hung off the front of the wrap-around front porch. It was large enough, however, that any able-sighted person could've read; 'Madam Quincie's Boarding House'. Draco smiled at the Victorian mixed with American back-roads style of the building in front of him. There was the peaked roof but there were also robin's-egg-blue shutters next to the windows. There was the third-story window peak, but the swing on the porch contradicted it.
Shaking himself out of it, Draco raced up the front lawn, rapping loudly on the door. There was a moment of complete and utter silence, no movement at all. And then, however, the door was flung open from the inside. But there was no one there. So where the bloody hell…?
Draco's eyes shifted down to meet a rather exuberant girl with long black hair staring up at him. She blinked her eyes before smiling widely and calling behind her, "Someone's here!" With a childish giggle she turned and scampered away.
"Adeline, I have told you before that you shouldn't yell- oh. Hello Evan,"
Draco smirked and grabbed the older woman's wrinkly hand, pressing a friendly kiss to it, "Madam Quincie, lovely as always,"
Madam Quincie blushed and playfully smacked his arm away, "Always the flirt, Evan, always the flirt… But you're late!"
"Sorry ma'am, my alarm didn't ring," Draco adapted a 'Texas Tone' (as Mr. Linney liked to describe it) and pretended to tip a nonexistent hat, "It won't happen again,"
"Right, well, I need you to paint the sign,"
Finally. The paint had been peeling for years.
"Do you have any specific colors...?"
"No," Madam Quincie sighed, "Though there should be some paint in the shed. I do believe the blue will do nicely for the words, as for the rest… I don't particularly care,"
Draco nodded and started to walk away, his mind set on his job.
"Evan?" Draco turned to look at the elder woman leaning against the doorframe, her jeans worn but a fresh smile on her face.
"Yes?"
Holding a silver object out in front of her, Madam Quincie laughed, "You'll need the key,"
"Oh," The blonde replied, embarrassed, "Right,"
X
Draco rubbed his paint smeared arm against his brow, not caring if the blue substance got in his hair. He was sweaty and gross, and the sign he was supposed to paint was barely half done.
I must be quite a sight, Draco mused, out here painting away at this old bat's sign while the rest of the world moves ahead in time, without me. Oh dammit Draco, stop getting psychological.
Chuckling lightly, he was almost startled off the ladder he was standing on when Madam Quincie came out of the house, car keys in hand.
"I'm just going to run out, Evan dear. There's a new boarder and I need to pick her up from the hotel. If you need anything ask Jasmine," Evan nodded in affirmation before resuming his work. Jasmine was Madam Quincie's daughter and she visited every weekend to catch up with those living in the house. She was not a conversationalist in the slightest but she had a 'good heart', as her mother had once described. If nothing else, she did seem to care for the people that resided in her childhood home.
Draco moved the paint brush up and down the carved letters before dipping it into the thick blue paint and repeating the motion. He was almost done; there was just the second coat of the last 'E' and then he could do the sealant. He had repainted the background an off-white and was going to do the outline a rosy pink he had discovered in the shed. Draco began to hum softly, reaching for the sealant. He would be done in about an hour, if all went well. Then he would receive a tall glass of lemonade and a peanut butter sandwich before Madam Quincie would give him a new task. He didn't mind, though. She was a nice old lady, although definitely one hundred percent American. She even kept fireworks in her shed!
The blonde was just finishing up his second coat of sealant when the popping sound of Madam Quincie's car was heard. Draco paused his hand motions as the sound of car doors slamming ricocheted off Draco's ears. He took a deep breath and turned around, eager to see the new arrival. His eyes almost fell out of his head in shock.
Standing there, with a small suitcase in one hand and the hand of Orion in another, was Hermione Freaking Granger.
"Well shit," The blonde cursed before retrieving the bucket of pale pink paint. He cracked the lid open and cringed away from the strong fumes. Draco tried his best to ignore her but couldn't help his eyes from shifting back, though her attention was on her son. She hadn't even noticed him yet.
"Yes, well, this is my house. You'll be taking the top room, the one in the attic, I hope you don't mind. There is air conditioning, though the heating is sketchy. I will see if I can get Evan here to fix it by winter for me,"
At the sound of his 'name' Draco's hand, which had been holding the brush to stir the thick paint, froze. With the brush still in his grasp he stood, turning to look at a very confused brunette and a rather gleeful Orion.
"Hullo, I don't believe we've met," Draco said evenly, crossing the lawn to meet her. Granger's eyebrows shot up before realization settled on her features. Madam Quincie didn't need to know that Draco was the father of her child or that they knew each other at all.
"Julia Smith," Granger responded in a similar tone; friendly but not overly so, "And my son, Ronnie,"
Again with that nickname. She could at least refer to him as 'Ron', as much as I hate Weasley. Ronnie sounds ridiculous.
"Nice to meet you, Julia,"
The witch gave him a look as if to say 'really?' "Nice to meet you too, Evan,"
Draco smiled at a beaming Orion, "Hey there, Ronnie,"
"Hi!" The small child exclaimed, throwing his arms around his father's legs.
Madam Quincie laughed as Granger tried desperately to remove the boy from Draco, "It's always fun to see such a friendly child,"
Yes. What happened to the quiet boy who barely talked? Draco mused.
"Well, it's good to know that you're staying here. I used to live here, when I first came to town. I didn't have much money so I paid off my debt to Madam Quince in favors. Much to my dismay, I've come to enjoy the old hag's company," Draco winked at the older woman over Granger's shoulder, "Or maybe it's just the food,"
"You're too charming for your own good, you know that?" Madam Quincie joked lightly, locking the car with a tap of her finger on the key fob, "Now hurry up while I show our new guest around, and then we'll see about lunch,"
"Yes ma'am," Draco replied, standing up straight with his hands at his sides, splattering paint on his left leg and all over the grass. The action caused a very gleeful Orion to burst into laughter. At that, even Granger's indifferent expression could not remain stiff.
X
"Hey, it's Evan!" Came the faint call of a very friendly Mr. Xaing. Draco smiled at the chorus of 'Hi Evan' that went around the long dining table that extended through the main room and into the kitchen beyond. The blonde took a seat at the corner end of the table, smiling as Mr. Xaing passed him a jug of homemade lemonade.
So I lied to myself about socializing. This is actually quite amusing. Perhaps that is my true reason for always coming back here to help them out. It's the least I can do, after all.
Grinning now, Draco dove into his sandwich that had been provided. It had the perfect proportions of peanut butter on it and, to put it frankly, was freaking beautiful piece of food.
Oh Merlin, the paint fumes have got to me… Hey look, there's a fly!
Definitely the paint fumes then.
No, Draco was simply in a fantastic mood. Despite the fact that Granger was here, despite the fact that Orion was his son, despite the fact that his resolve against not socializing always fell to the ground as soon as he entered the premises of this house. Madam Quincie was awesome to joke around with, Mr. Xaing was friendly, and Jasmine was always an interesting person to discuss the weather. They were not his friends per se, but they were fun enough to talk to.
"So I heard you met Ms. Smith, the new boarder," Mr. Xaing mentioned as Draco took another furious bite of his sandwich. He nearly choked as it went down, opting to gulp down some lemonade to clear his esophagus.
"Right," He replied, using the paper napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth off, "Seems nice enough,"
"And her son is so sweet, even if he is rather quiet," The graying man next to him mentioned. What was his name? Mr. Davis? Mr. Davison? Mr. Davie?
"Yes, a real handsome lad indeed," Mr. Xaing added, taking an idle sip from his glass, "He's quite the little gentleman,"
A strong sense of pride flared up from deep inside the blonde. Obviously his son had inherited all the right genes from his side of the family.
"And she sure is pretty," Mr. What's-His-Name mentioned casually. Draco's eyes immediately flickered to Granger, who was sitting down the table near the entrance to the kitchen. Her long brown hair was still just as curly as ever, though it was tamer in the cool house. She was wearing a light pink long sleeved shirt that went well with her skin tone… Yes, Draco mused, she is pretty… if mudbloods were my thing, that is.
Hypocrite, a smaller voice whispered, you're hanging out with muggles right now!
"Yeah, I suppose," Draco focused back in on the two men he was speaking to, "I don't particularly like her hair, though,"
Mr. Xaing laughed, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges, "Well, you certainly are specific, aren't you?"
Draco scoffed, "Eh, I'm just not into girls with kids,"
Even though that kid is yours…
Oh shut up!
"Er, Evan?" Mr. What's-His-Name asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"
Realizing that he'd shouted what he'd been thinking about out loud, Draco felt heat rushing right to his face. Everyone at the table had fallen silent, except for several of the younger children, who were chatting away in their own language.
"Uh… Sorry. I'll just…" Pushing back from the table he stood, and proceeded to run out of the house. The door slammed with a certain finality, though that was ridiculous. He didn't want to run, he just did. Though that seemed to be his thing, running.
"Malfoy," That was the sound of a female voice, most definitely. The only one who knew him as Malfoy was…
"Granger," He responded curtly as they stood on the porch, facing the large lawn and the trees beyond, "What are you going out here?"
"Oh, you know, being an insufferable know-it-all," She joked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Draco watched the movement carefully, calculating the way her tan hand fluttered up but fell quickly back down.
"Granger, why are you here?"
The question shocked her; Granger's eyes got wide and her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, as though she was focusing intently on her answer.
"I don't know, honestly. I mean, what are we all doing here? We were all born for a reason, and whether or not we discover what that reason is remains entirely up to us. The real question is, why do we die? When we are freed from this life, there is no going back. But where do we GO after death? Is there an afterlife?"
Draco stared at her, perplexed, "I'm sorry, but what the hell are you going off on, Granger?"
Brown eyes sparkling with mirth, Hermione allowed a small smile to worm its way onto her face, "Gotcha, Malfoy,"
The blonde raised an eyebrow but he was fighting to keep a grin off his own features, "Whatever, mudblood," He dismissed. She was just Granger.
Granger sighed, "I thought that we could've put that behind us. I suppsose that I was wrong," Draco crossed his arms as she stalked back into the house. The wizard was glad that she had left him to peace and quiet, but at the same time, the air had gotten reasonably colder in her absence.