In the dark - in the darkness you will find;
Dirty little secrets we all hide.
Cause we all have a darker side
A place we keep where no one else will find
Cause everybody wants to hide their secrets away
Nobody wants to stand up to the pain
But I will; stand up to the pain
Wake up and fight again
If you could dance with me through this rain
We will fight, we'll fight again
- Secrets, Good Charlotte
DING DONG.
Knock Knock Knock.
Very faintly I can hear commotion going on downstairs. A door knocking, the bell.
But who could it be? Mum and Dad aren't due back until Friday, and Andrea would've told me she was swinging by if –
OH MY GOD.
Harry.
Ron!
"NO," I verbalize, shooting straight up, sobering to my surroundings in a flash.
I'm sweating in my heap of blankets, while Draco is curled up on his side, comfortable as a kitten on top of the covers. Memories of the amazing night I had flash back in spurts as I notice the empty tea cups on my bedside table, and the stack of Muse records across the room by my laptop.
Suddenly, a particularly violent knock shakes me from my thoughts, and I scramble out of bed to race to the other side of my floor. Paranoid but with haste, I tear off my panties from yesterday, as I never did change, darting looks at Draco between grabbing a new pair from my wardrobe. I pull my dress over my head, grab an old t-shirt and wriggle on a pair of jeans.
I hate to be the one to disturb my guests' peacefulness, but I am freaking out. I run over to Draco and shake him, hard.
He lets out a small moan, but just rolls onto his stomach.
Oh, good gravy, ""DRACO. DRACO! Wake up, wake up, wake, up! They're here, oh Merlin, they're here!"
I use what minimal strength I have to force him back on his side.
"Mrrgh-" he tries to bat away my hands, but I keep on shaking him until he finally opens his eyes.
He's squinty from the morning grog and rubs his face, very tired. "What time is it?" he asks, yawning.
"I don't know, I don't know! But you have to get up, because Ron and Harry are here." He looks at me, suddenly stock still. Then he slowly sits up, trying to keep down his morning erection and squints at the windows, at the sunlight peering in.
"I slept here overnight…" he realizes aloud. "Fuck!" He's looking at me apologetically, scrambling to his feet, eyes now wide open.
"Look, I don't care at the moment! Just – what are we going to do?" I whisper, hyperventilating at the prospect of the conversation I am soon going to have.
Yesterday, everything seemed like a dream; a boy that previously loathed me likes me, who I happen to find attractive; we go on an unfathomable date, and we come home and continue to be in each other's presence; enjoying it without being ill at ease.
And now, due to my poor judgement, and idiocy, I'll be stuck in the same place with 3 people who loathe the same boy, and I have to muster the gall to tell my best friends of this new development which they surely won't be able to forgive me for.
"I'll just Apparate! Or…Floo powder? Did you change?" Draco's uncharacteristic panic brings me back to reality and I realize that he's nervous about being put on the line of fire too.
Which doesn't serve to make me feel any better.
If it were up to me, I'd just lay back down with him, and kiss him till they had to leave, but that's not practical, is it?
"Yes, I changed," I reply shaking my head at my stupid thoughts. "And no, that's the thing, I don't have any Floo, I just have it connected to the Network. And you can't Apparate in my house, plus we have no backyard." Stupid London!
What are they going to do when they find out? If I tell them? But of course I'm going to tell them. If I don't, they'll kill me.
But maybe they'll kill me in reaction to the news. Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?
"Erm…the garage?" For Merlin's sake.
"It's not attached to the house, actually. Surely they'd notice if you tried to sneak out through the front door?"
Draco just throws his hands up in the air, waiting for an answer, eyes agog.
"Just…just stay here. Look, look it's 9:50, you only have to wait for 2 hours," I instruct, pointing to the clock on my wall. "Just relax, read a book or something, I have to go!"
"Relax? I think it's a little fucking hard to relax, especially if you're going to reveal anything."
"I haven't decided yet, actually. And I'm already hard-pressed enough having to come to terms with the fact that I may lose some friends for a while, the least you could do is calm down a bit," I say shrilly.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he says gentler. "You're the boss. Maybe I can go back to sleep, I'll be the one unable to hold back if I hear that idiot yelling at you."
"He's not an idiot," I scold frustrated. "You have to realize how WEIRD this is, who you are. Draco, I-"
"Look, Granger. Hermione – they're waiting downstairs. It would be best to not start them off in a testy mood. I just happen to be on edge too. I know it's weird, alright? Can I have a kiss though – uh, before you go..." he adds in a quiet voice, putting his arms behind his back and looking at the floor.
I smile despite myself and go onto my tip toes to give him a quick peck. Draco Malfoy, embarrassed. Aw.
"And be quiet!" I remind him as another thump downstairs sounds.
"As you wish, master." I roll my eyes as I shut Draco in my room, and race down the stairs to get the door, millions of questions and a bit of anger bubbling in and out of my head and chest. I don't have enough time to PROCESS this.
"Oh god." I glance at the mirror in the hall; I look frightful. My hair is a mushroom cloud, and the little makeup I had on yesterday is smeared. All well, too late now, let's hope they won't be suspicious.
HA.
Okay, okay, calm down Hermione, deep breaths, it's just Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron, who love you. Ron loves you too much, and their worst enemy is upstairs in your room, but…they'll forgive you right? Right?
I give a little 'bah!', then calm myself enough to open the door. I see Ron, Harry, and Ginny on my porch. Harry looks uncomfortable, Ron looks nervous, and Ginny looks bored. Oh, lovely.
"Hi," I say awkwardly, pushing my hands against the door frame, leaning outside into the morning crisp air.
"Hey," Ginny says friendly, waving to me.
"Why did it take you so long to answer the door? –ow!"
"Harry." Ginny swats her boyfriend lightly on the arm, scolding him. "Don't be rude."
"Sorry, we've been waiting for at least 10 minutes," he adds, embarrassed. I feel the need to chuckle, but am too horrified for my vocal chords to emit such a sound.
Ginny would normally put me at more ease by being present, but quite honestly, I know she hates Malfoy just as much as Harry, maybe even more. To the same level as Ron, perhaps.
"I know, I know. Sorry, I slept in. I didn't know what time you all were coming," I add with a touch of annoyance. Ron looks at me sheepishly, but Harry is unfazed. Ginny is playing the route of 'everything is fine', looking away from me and smiling, so I shake my head and open my arms to let them all in.
"Speaking of which," I start up again, as we enter my home to the living room, "And if you please, leave your shoes at the front, how do you know where I live? And how in the world did you get here? I mean, have any of you actually been in Muggle London before?"
I realized last night as I was talking to Draco, that though he is very undereducated in the way of Muggle life, so are a lot of other people I know, like Ron for example. And I guess when you're used to well, magic, anything without the use of a wand seems unnecessary. Muggles seem harmless. It just sucks that our ways are so underappreciated in the wizarding world, and I wish Muggle Studies was mandatory. Then perhaps, I wouldn't get exasperated so much at stupidity. I mean, Arthur is considered a nut just for liking appliances. What is that? Can't be any worse than being obsessed with Quidditch. But, I digress.
"I've been to London, Hermione. At nighttime mind you, and just in weird areas like the subway, but I grew up in the Muggle world too, remember? In suburban Surrey?" Harry smiles at me, and I try to return it but I'm too anxious of my unintended upstairs guest. I keep hearing thumps that must be imaginary, as no one's said anything yet. I must appear an idiot.
I sit down at the far end of the large leather couch, Ginny plops into the middle, speaking while Harry gets next to her. Ron takes the singular armchair close to me, by the fireplace.
"You know, we haven't been outside King's Cross, have we Ron? Oh and Hermione, didn't I tell you? I passed my Apparition test!"
This tidbit surprises me, returns me to the ground. "Oh? That's great Ginny!"
She beams at me.
"That's how we're here now. Harry isn't too bad, actually, but I'm better," she says pushing him friendly with her shoulder. "Over the summer I practiced a lot; I wanted to get it once and for all, for certain reasons," she says winking at me. I remember our conversation about random Muggle inns on the train and shake my head, smirking.
"I had to go to the Ministry, it was horrid. Seriously, endless waiting for a stupid 5 minute test. And the lady who tested me was such an old sourpuss, no sense of humour or anything."
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Draco's things, his bag and clothing I would assume, on the kitchen counter. I gulp, but maintain constant eye contact with my friends, nodding at Ginny.
"Well at least you've officially got yours." Ron crosses his arms, and I can tell he's already in a foul mood.
"You could've gone with me, dear Ronald," she says, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, well I wasn't practicing at all, was I? Why make a fool of myself?"
"Not my fault you hadn't bothered to practice. And you're such a dolt; you couldn't make a fool of yourself if you tried! They would've given you a pass even if you splinched yourself again. Everyone is always, 'Oh look! Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's best friend through everything!' Swoon, give me your autograph," she says in a mock posh accent. Harry giggles, and I stifle a grin at the look at Ron's face.
"What about you? 'Oh look at her, she's so striking, so beautiful. I wish I was Harry's girlfriend, but I could never measure up to how pretty she is,', blah, blah. Don't make me sick."
"Notice how it's never about my personality? Or how smart I am? And what, you think I'm ugly?" she asks offended, arms crossed. Harry shoots Ron a mix between a dirty look and a pleading one.
"No, of course not – I, just –"
"At least I don't wallow in it like you do! If a pretty girl so much as smiles at you, you become the blushing storyteller of how long you've known Harry and how difficult your life has been."
"I do not!"
"ANYWAYS," I enunciate, trying to cut in, putting my arms between them. They pause mid-insult and look at me, red faced. "How did you know where I live?"
Nobody says anything.
"Ron? Harry?" I cross my arms. This is so stupid.
"Er, well –" Ron looks shamefaced.
"The thing is –" Harry begins.
"The thing is that nosy over here was angry about you spending your holiday with Malfoy," she points to Ron with her thumb, who huffs, and is about to say something but Ginny continues. "So he gets in a tiff because you hadn't owled us, and is off on a rant about how he's storming over there as soon as he can, and realizes he doesn't know where you live. So Dad, like a big idiot, reminisces about that letter he sent you years ago because he wanted to see how muggle post worked, remember?"
"Oh my god, that." In third year I offered to be a correspondent for Mr. Weasley because he was fascinated with mail. He didn't know anybody he could send a package or note to, and obviously being fond of the Weasley family, I obliged as Harry couldn't possibly with the Dursleys.
"Ron rummages around Dad's workshop filled with all those Muggly things, and finally finds it after about 3 hours. So by this time Harry and I are on red alert, and we send you those owls, unbeknownst to Ron."
"Which was unnecessary, mind you," he retaliates.
"No, it really wasn't. Then you owled me back but not Harry, and we were kind of confused but you were busy as you said. So we tried to pretend it was from somebody else for me, then Mum asked to see it. Grabbed it without my permission, and of course sussed it out of us on why you were here alone with Malfoy. So really in the end it was a blessing because I didn't know that Harry was planning to go see you, but Dad practically forced us all to so you wouldn't have to suffer, because Mum is just as bad as Ron for being Queen Intrusion. When we were trying to explain that your family exists, they pretty much ignored us - but anyways. That's the story. All I did was focus exceptionally hard on the address of the place, and luckily it brought us to the correct location."
Huh.
I forgot about Molly and Arthur in all this. Damn it.
"By the way, we hadn't thought about it thoroughly, because you weren't with us, obviously, but your parents won't be cross, will they?" She looks around, scanning the house as if suddenly Mum will pop out of a geranium vase.
"You have a nice home, by the way," she adds. "Really posh, I don't know what I was expecting to be honest. So….foreign compared to our countryside."
"Thanks," I reply, taking a deep breath. "It is very urban I suppose, but then , it's also Muggle, and I guess you wouldn't know it, but popular design is far different than in wizard Britain."
Ginny nods, waiting for me to continue. Dammit, where's Draco when you need him? He would've been able to make that conversation change successful.
"About my parents…well, they, aren't exactly, here," I state to looks of confusion.
"What do you mean, they aren't here, exactly?" Harry inquires. For the first time he looks intently at me, suddenly he's not feeling awkward. And already I'm regretting the decision of not trying to appear more affronted by their intrusion.
"Well I was expecting to have everyone over for Easter, you know? But when I got home my parents informed me that they were going to Scotland for a wedding and also, they had to attend a British Dental conference."
"So you've been here alone …with Malfoy."
The sudden low tonal change in Ron's voice alerts me, and Harry notices it too.
"He did meet my parents on Friday," I try casually, to which Ron balls his fists, turning them white. "And, er my cousin, who lives about a 40 minutes commute away from here. But they left Saturday."
"And let me guess, he was over last night? With you alone, doing all your music-y things?"
"Er," More than that, actually. In fact, I could go for more than that right now. "Yes, you might say that."
"Hermione!" Harry is half-risen out of his seat. He's getting just as angry as Ron.
I sink into my seat, knowing what's coming.
"Why didn't you contact us! We want to make sure you're safe!"
"Harry, relax, I've been without parental guidance before. It's only the 3rd day." I know I look overly nervous, but I try to keep my calm, which for me is near impossible.
"B-but why didn't you owl us to alert us of that development?"
"Do you not think I can handle Draco Malfoy on my own?" I reply hotly. Honestly, if only they knew how different he is.
"It isn't that, it's a just in case. So if the time calls for it, we can be here if you need it," Harry stresses.
"And we know that he is going to try something, if he hasn't already," Ron pouts.
"What do you mean by that?" I ask.
"Well, no offense, Hermione, but look at you. You look distressed, and disheveled. It's pretty obvious that he's been awful to deal with to stress you out so much."
Excuse me?
"I'll have you know, Ron, that I only look like this because I overslept. You three woke me up, I wasn't given a time. Thank you for pointing it out."
His ears turn the signature red, but I'm not finding it cute. That's incredibly insulting, actually.
"Now, what is everyone's problem? Seriously, it's been 5 minutes and Ginny and Ron, you're at each other's throats. If you wanted to come check up on me, why come over like this? Not really cheering me up, are you?"
Immediately Ginny looks sheepish and Ron continues blushing.
Harry then leans over to say something.
"We're hopeless without you, Hermione." My turn for crimson.
"How so?" I ask in a small voice, feeling guiltily flattered.
"Well you're usually always around to put us all in check. You would be off with Ron if I was with Harry, or with me if the boys wanted to hang about. And you haven't been for a while now. You're the only person who any of us can talk to that gives us good advice, well at least for me, anyhow." Ginny explains.
"Oh" I reply quietly. Harry nods, and Ron scowls.
"So seeing how there's all this nonsense with my brother and yourself, it's been rather annoying not having you around. And in any case, it was extremely tedious doing my project with Michael, he was so nervous because someone is a jealous little monster, over here." She smiles at Harry, and nudges into him, who grins widely, apologetically back. "And seeing as you're a bit of a control freak, Malfoy seems the type too, we deduced that you'd be at each throats."
My throat suddenly feels dry.
I need to tell someone. This isn't like having a time turner, and we're not 14 anymore. If I like a boy, I have to tell them, even Ron. Especially because he's in my freaking room.
But I don't know if I can do it. The only person who could remotely understand would be Ginny, and even then, Draco has been an absolute asshole to the Weasley's. For some reason I always forget it when I talk to him. Maybe because when I was on the receiving end of insults I was able to almost always ignore it, but I know when he fed them insults, he was trying to one-up them all the time. And at least for the boys, it always works.
I have a sudden idea. One that is probably not going to go over well, but nothing I try is going to go over well. I'm going to try and be nonchalant about it, maybe slip it into the conversation?
"You would think that, but actually, we weren't. Actually, he was rather agreeable. Tea?" I ask standing up.
Suddenly I feel a hot palm on my forehead, stopping me from moving, and I look up to see it's Harry looking at me disbelievingly.
"What?"
"Sorry, just checking you didn't have a fever because, agreeable? When has 'Malfoy' and 'agreeable' ever been two words viable to put in a sentence together?"
"Since Friday, I suppose," I reply airily.
I finish getting up nonchalantly, and dust off my trousers. All eyes on me.
Then I walk to the middle of the room.
"Tea?"
"Uh, sure," Ginny says trying to cut some tension. "That would be nice."
The boys say nothing as I fill the kettle up with water and plug it into the wall. I noisily, deliberately grab plates from the cupboard, the cups, a biscuit tin.
In it are the remainders of the scones Mum made, exactly 4. Silently, I praise Draco for not asking for more last night.
"What exactly did Malfoy do to make him agreeable?" Harry questions when I go to pick out the orange pekoe and English Breakfast, attempting to rid his tone of malice.
"I don't really want to hear that, Harry," Ron spits quietly.
"He didn't insult me, he picked my music choice, and he conversed with my Mum, who happened to like him," I sigh, ignoring Ron, placing a tea pot onto the coffee table along with saucers, and distributing plates.
Nobody touches the tea, as I expected them not to, and so as I sit back down, I fill my cup first.
"So? Those are things that normal people do, what people should do," Ron says angrily.
"Yes, they are. Which is agreeable, yes?"
Harry shakes his head at me, but I've got to at least try to upsell Malfoy, haven't I?
"Why would your Mum like a sod like him?"
I take another deep breath through my nose, refusing to let him get to me, because I know if he does, in a second I'll crack.
Suddenly, an audible thunk, I swear it's not me, sounds from upstairs.
It's right above us.
Where my room is.
Merlin.
"What the bloody hell was that?"
"I'm not sure, probably – Crookshanks," I manage quickly, thanking my big lovely cat for existing.
"Ginny, would you join me upstairs for a second, please? To check the noise. I also need to – ask you something. Something I didn't want to put in our letter."
She darts a look at Harry, and raises an eyebrow, but she complies and gets up to follow me.
"Drink your tea," I point to the table, commanding the boys.
She doesn't think I see it, but Ginny looks back for a second and shrugs at Harry as we climb the steps, obviously confused, as she should be.
I don't speak again until we reach the top of the stairs.
"Ginny, I have something to show you. You aren't going to like it."
"Uh," she shifts her weight to one leg and grabs one of her shoulders nervously. "Show me?"
"Look, this is going to be a shock to you once I explain everything, but I hope you can hear me out, because Ron will kill us, and Harry will never speak to me again."
"Hermione, what -? Us?"
"Ginny, I've broken Ron's heart, and I will never forgive myself for it, but I don't want to date him. We're simply not compatible enough," I rush on, frantically.
"Not compatible? You argued like an old married couple, you were the definition of opposites attract, 'Mione. You've been through everything together…sorry, if you don't want him I get it, he's pretty disgusting, you've no clue," she says confused and shaking her head. "But I don't understand what that has to do with anything."
I sigh, taking in her painfully true words.
"Just. Okay, here – "
I turn the brass knob into my room, hoping I don't scare Draco into oblivion, squeezing my eyes shut.
But as the whoosh of the wood sounds, everything is anticlimactic.
"Well?"
I open my eyes. As the vision of my surroundings come back to me, the bed is revealed to be empty. And the chair, and the loveseat.
Crookshanks is purring on the floor, circling around as if some invisible person is standing there to make their limbs available for relentless rubbing.
I don't have a big enough closet to house a human, just shoes; my wardrobe is for my clothes.
Where the hell did he go?
"Er, Hermione?"
And then I see it: parchment on my desk, with an ink scrawl, put underneath my paperweight of Big Ben. The window is open a crack, it must've been the window slamming shut that made the noise. That devil.
He's so good with escaping trouble, I'm surprised there hasn't been award made for it yet.
"Hermione? Y'alright?"
I walk into the room silently, as if somehow I'll break the air I my room and reveal Malfoy to be rendered visible.
I go over to sit down on the edge of the bed, realizing I miraculously dodged a major bullet.
"HER-MIO-NEE?"
Ginny is waving a hand in front of me, I realize.
"What is the matter with you, love?" she asks, coming over, sitting next to me on my bed. "What did you want to show me?"
"Er – the thing is," I look around me for an inspiration for a lie. But everything reminds me of Draco, and how he's the first boy to ever have been in here, to have ever laid next to me on my bed. To embrace me.
Something inside me stirs, but I need to quell it.
So I try and focus on Ginny instead, with her perfectly straight red hair, her orb-like green eyes framed in lashes that go from blond to dark brown, her freckled complexion and warm smile. She's so uncomplicatedly beautiful next to me. I'm so jealous of her.
Harry is probably jealous 24/7.
Like a lightning flash, I've found my excuse.
"Have you been having a difficult time too with answering McGonagall's questions?" I try first, knowing she's going to see through it. "I know Michael was well-to-do, thanks to Harry. I just feel like I've accomplished nothing." Ginny looks surprised and then skeptical.
"Really, you dragged me up here about school? I find that hard to believe, 'Mione," she says grabbing a wrist and placing it in her lap.
"Come on, you can tell me, I'm your friend remember?" She smiles at me again, and I almost want to give in, but I can't. So I continue with my scheme.
I decide to take the route of 'girl related problems', loathing myself for what I'm about to do. "Oh, Ginny," I mock sob. "I'm just feeling so down about myself."
I cling to her navy sweater, dramatically. Immediately I feel a hug.
"Whatever for?" she asks concerned.
"I just feel inadequate next to you all the time, to other girls, and I can't get things right with Ron, Harry I haven't spoken to in a while. I just want to let Ron know how I truly feel."
"Inadequate next to me? Darling, you're the talk of the town," Ginny laughs. "All the boys love you, all girls envy you, even if they won't say as much."
"Yes, but only because of what they hear. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm likeable." I dart a look at my desk, hoping Ginny doesn't see it before I have a chance to read it.
"And what they see, my dear," she says, pushing me straight so she can take a look at me. "Since when did you care about what everyone else says? Fuck 'em," she states, sticking her tongue out. Oh, if only you knew, Ginny dear.
"I know, I just – " oh god, what can I say to make this convincing? "I feel bad about you all being so far away from me for a while. It's just the whole thing with Dean and how it affected Ron– "
"Well fix it then," Ginny says simply, patting my head. "Ron can suck it, he's not Harry's only friend. As a matter of fact, I find it quite silly that you all can't function without each other. And Dean will be fine. If he's Harry's friend still after going out with me a few days after us falling out, then he can survive, lots of girls fancy him."
"You're right of course." And she is. I will hang out with Harry more, he's my best friend.
Everything else was exaggerated nonsense, but still such good advice.
"There, now smile, sweetheart." She pinches my cheek and I roll my eyes. "You're always so high-strung. I think you need a good, hearty shag."
"Ginny!" I cry outraged, internally thinking that she's most likely right, but if that's true, then it'll more than likely be caused by her worst enemy.
A sudden image of Malfoy smiling while hovering over me on my bed floods my brain, and I shake it out. Dear god, what was that?
"And always remember that; you are B-E-A-UTIFUL," she sings, bringing me out of it, then giggles.
She prances across my room and out the bedroom door.
I walk out towards the stairs, following Ginny without the same loping grace as she.
From my view above the living room, I notice the boys haven't moved an inch.
"Having a fun time without us, I see." Ginny notes dryly, wherein I chuckle.
"Er – problem solved?" Harry asks.
"Yes," I say, plopping down at the end of the couch once again. "Crookshanks is one noisy kitty, I'll say that much."
"Yes, well, we never doubted his mischief now did we?"
Everyone chuckles, and I'm glad that finally we aren't so awkward. Then I proclaim my proactive suggestion.
"I was thinking…maybe tomorrow I could come down to the Burrow? If you aren't all busy or anything…."
"NO, come!" Ginny says brightly, loudly. "We've been bored stiff. Well, I have. All I've done is work, or else had to endure dinners with Phlegm and Bill, and George with his little girlfriend from the shop, whatshername?"
"Verity," Ron says too quickly, and then blushes. "What, it's a very odd name, isn't it?"
"Yes, she's so very chah-ming with her posh Oxford accent. Little pixie blonde hair cut too, Ron was simply mesmerized by her conversation."
"Ginny, will –you- can it!"
I start laughing and Ron spares me an odd look, but smiles back, hoping not to ruin my foul mood.
"I'll come at around noon, how about?"
"Yeah sure," Ron confirms, though I can sense a bit of excitement in his eyes, and I feel a dart of guilt build in my stomach.
"Anyways, so how's your project going, what've you been up to? Harry, Ron, er –how's Quidditch coming along?"
Boy, that sets them all off.
Immediately I get a retelling of Harry's fantastic playing just yesterday, and Ron's monumental improvement on his Keeping ability. Ginny nods sourly, envious of their free time and then gets to have her piece about working with Michael, and how Harry is always darting round the corners every so often, being a general green eyed monster.
Discussion of family, of general gossip and hatred or love of school simply makes the time swing by, and before I know it, it's 11:57. I feel significantly more relaxed and at ease about listening to such normal things, even the mundane.
Unfortunately, I have no clue if Malfoy is going to show up, and I need to get these lovely people out. Something is nagging at me to tell them about Draco and I going on our date, but I can't bring myself to. Everytime I am about to spill the beans, my throat tightens.
"And then Mum actually has the audacity to ask George about –"
"Sorry to interrupt," I butt in, making Ron a bit sad faced that he didn't get to finish. "Malfoy is supposed to be here around noon, just letting you know. You may want to clear out."
"No, let that bugger come, I want a few words." Ron is scowling again like earlier, and I just shake my head. Ginny smacks Ron lightly across his ginger hair.
"You ninny, she doesn't want us here, is what she's saying. It's for the best, don't want a murder investigation tonight. Come on children, single file," she rouses up the troops, and I walk them all to the door, Ron muttering protests.
"Thanks for the tea, Hermione," Harry says. "And sorry we didn't tell you the time we were coming. You have to admit though, it put everyone at ease, yes?"
"I suppose," I concede grabbing him for a hug. Something about these people act as a narcotic. Whenever I have a good time, it's like I'm walking on sedated air for the rest of the day. "Bye, Harry."
And I really am impressed with Harry. I told him during the summer I thought he always took Ron's side and left me to my own devices in times of crisis. But I'm glad he's really thinking of my feelings by contacting me and protecting me from Ron's anger for the sake of school.
"Bye, Gin," I say, as she pulls me in, engulfing me with her slender arms. "Thanks."
"Au revoir, Hermione. Don't let the Malfoy's bite," she laughs, though internally I'm hoping that one does. "And you're welcome," she finishes with a knowing smile.
"If he lays a hand on you," Ron cuts in, and for once today I find his concern endearing. "You know I'll go after him."
"Come here, Ronald," I reply once again shaking my head, and his momentary surprise is filled with a nice smile, our embrace warm.
I really did miss talking to them frequently.
They all wave their goodbyes as they bundle up their jackets, and step onto the deck into the warm midday sunlight. I join them, relishing the weather, feeling like I've not been outside properly in years. We wait until the coast is clear, and I give them a thumbs up to Apparate, the sharp crack reverberating for a few moments.
I inhale the freshness, but the grandfather clock chimes and returns my attention inside once again to my worried mind that I had left behind. So I rush back up to my bedroom to read the parchment I'd almost forgotten about. I grab it and lean against the desk.
Miss Granger,
I really couldn't sit still in here, and quite frankly the prospect of Potter coming in to turn me into dust, or having Weasley punch my guts out, or his sister using her crazy curses was greater than my need to please you.
Sorry.
Anyhow, your lovely beast was meowing at me, and I couldn't shake it once again of its anger towards myself, and so I am sitting halfway out your window as I write this. I'll be back at 12, and hide somewhere if they haven't left yet. I'll wait for you to come out front and I'll be there waiting for you to notice me.
I can get my piano anyways, and we can either practice the shit out of whichever song we're doing, or else I'll buy you that iPod.
Draco.
He signed it Draco.
No hugs or kisses or anything, that would be weird actually. But I'm pleased, anyways.
Huh, was he out there when they left? No, surely not.
I retrace my steps to the outside, clutching the note, and actually venture to the lawn, looking around for him.
Then I unexpectedly hear a hefty tap, as if on glass. I look out onto the road, and inside my neighbours son's truck which is against the curb is Draco, leaning against the wheel. He waves to me, then exits the driver seat, beaming at me, making my stomach fill with butterflies.
As he slams the door, I notice in his hand a box; his piano.
"Didjya miss me?"
Holy fuck this is frightening.
Potter and Weasley are visible from the front window of Granger's house.
I am currently peering in from the wall, where the garage is. Luckily they're facing away from where I am, but I have no idea where to turn.
I couldn't stop fidgeting or pacing once the idiotic voice of 'Ron' filled the room downstairs. And stupid ginger cat made another appearance, must've slipped itself in in the morning.
I was freaking the fuck out, I didn't want a repeat of yesterday. So I slipped out the window, and thank fuck it worked. I didn't want to sit on a windowsill for 2 hours, and just in case they went upstairs, which Granger did, because the cat is perched on the sofa arm now, I went to my house.
Most awkward apparition ever.
I was actually able to get in this time, and nobody was home. It felt so very empty, when normally I'd savour that. Peoni was probably hiding from me, petrified I'd punish her.
So I made a drink, played my piano a bit, decided there wasn't enough time for a bath, and came back here, where I'm presently creeping.
It's almost 12.
I have no idea if Granger saw my note, but all of a sudden they're all standing up, oh fuck, shit, balls.
Frantically, I look around me and notice a giant car-thing right beside the road. I don't want to run the risk of breaking anything, but I feel I have no choice, there's nowhere to hide here unless I go to a different lawn, but screw that.
I mad dash to the door of the vehicle, and tentatively check to see if it'll open. And thank Merlin it pops open like a miracle! I shove myself in, putting my piano on the passenger side and try to sink low into the odd leather seat. My eye level matches that of the wheel that mans the car. There are a lot of buttons, but I notice on the door there is one embedded with a lock symbol, so I push it and an all-round 'click' makes me jump. Does this make me safe or?
I have no time to steady myself though, cause there's all of them , standing outside. Torture-filled seconds pass by and then the three interlopers have left. I want to jump up and out of here, but Granger's already gone back inside, fuck. However, she's not in view of the kitchen, so she must've gone upstairs to read the note.
Sure enough, after 3 or 4 more fruitless minutes, she's back outside, and gets onto the grass. I rap on the glass and wave at her while her expression becomes mingled with horror and slight amusement. I unlock the door and hop out.
"Didjya miss me?"
"Draco! How did you get into that car?" She asks amazed.
"I opened the door?" I try.
"You mean it was unlocked? Goodness, better tell the Fairbrother's to lock up." She looks very frazzled, her hair like a tangled lion's mane, and her face splotchy and pocked with yesterday's makeup. "Please don't break and enter people's cars again."
I nod, feeling that I don't feel so bad about not showering now. But damn, she must've been really nervous.
"So, you miss me?" I repeat, trying to lighten her up. I walk over to meet her, but she turns around and begins to walk inside the house.
"Maybe just a smidge," she says, as we both enter the threshold, and she closes the door behind me. "It's been 2 hours, you silly boy."
"Two hours too long," I reply, smiling sweetly at her, wherein she blushes. I kick off my shoes and follow her to the familiar destination of the stairs leading to her room.
"Hold up," I say, and I run to grab my bag of clothing, wanting to change badly, the sweat of my shirt irritating me. If we're going into Muggle territory, I need to be prepared, which is why I refrained from changing at home. As we walk up the familiar purple room, my mind turns to the lack of anger in her departed guests.
"I take it you didn't tell dear Ronald of our rendezvous last night?"
She sighs, and doesn't bother closing the door as she falls back onto her bed, legs splayed out , her bare toes touching the dark wooded floor. She runs her hand through her hair at her temple and nods.
"I couldn't do it. I felt guilty though. I'm going over there tomorrow." Ugh.
I squeeze my knuckles together, but don't let it faze me. "To the Weasel's? Lovely."
Okay, so maybe I do.
"You're going to have to start calling them the Weasley's, you know."
"Trust me, I won't. They won't want anything to do with me." I go over and sit beside her on the bed, one leg off the bed, one leg crossed onto the duvet, so I can move my torso to face her lying body. I place my possessions onto the ground.
"You never know. It may take a while. Molly is quite a nice woman once you know her…"
I snort. "Yeah, fat chance, love. Lucius Malfoy is my father remember? When have he or Arthur ever seen eye to eye? Not to mention my Dad was always a self-righteous prick. And as am I, or was. They'll never forgive me."
She punches my leg, "Oh shut up, have some faith."
"My family is the anti-faith, the Mal-foys; bad faith en francais. We are descended from treacherous greedy buffoons alike. Forever cursed into being Slytherin assholes," I say dramatically. She punches me again, only this time, it kind of hurts.
"You're so full of it."
"Am not," I reply messing up her hair even more with my hand. She grabs my hand and lunges for my leg again, but I grab her wrist.
"You wanna play dirty, Miss Granger?" I ask, raising my eyebrow; the challenge. She gives me a look, the kind that reads 'Don't Even Dare.' But I ignore it.
Before she has time, I grab her other wrist with my same hand, loving that my stature entails me to have huge palms and long fingers. Then I begin to tickle her relentlessly, on her sides, under her arms and even her neck.
She squeals , kicks and writhes against me in an attempt to escape, but fails. A bit of her stomach is now showing as her arms are extended, and I can see the outline of her panties peeking under her dark jeans. Through the simple t-shirt her breasts feed me a tantalizing tease, but I ignore the urge to get on top of her, ready to pound her, as best as I can.
"Dr-draco- p-pl-please! I hate you! St-stop, stop, stop!" Her shaky voice comes in tremors and breaths, and finally after I can see her basically giggling in pain, I let her go and she smacks my side, me now lying parallel to her body, laughing my ass off at her.
"Oh come on, it was funny," I say, and duck as she tries throwing a pillow at me.
"Maybe for you," she pouts, getting up now. I watch her from the bed as she rummages through the wardrobe, apparently looking for something better to wear.
"So are we going to Muggleton today?" I ask, curious.
"If you want, Tickle Monster. Why?" She turns to look at me, holding what seems to be a shirt and sweater. I smirk at her comment.
"Well you're changing is all. I should think I need to as well. Seeing as all my crap's here," I gesture to my bag.
"Oh. Yeah. I mean, it'll take 2 hours at the most, just pop in and out of 2 shops."
"I don't mind the wait," I say gently, standing up to scavenge through my foreign clothing choices.
"That's good, because I haven't figured out how we're getting there yet," she replies.
"What do you mean?" My stomach drops slightly.
"Well, we can take the car, but traffic will be mad. Or else the bus, or tube and that's about it."
"Oh," I say shallowly, swallowing. Ew, public transportation.
She steals a glance at me and grins like a mother would to a precocious child. "Nervous, are you?"
"Mildly disgusted," I admit, grimacing at the thought of someone's fat ass occupying the seat before I've sat on it, or else catching germs. Shudder.
"There's a first time for everything!" Ha ha.
I make the farting noise with my tongue, a disapproving one.
"All well, whatever, just hold my hand through it?" She laughs and agrees.
After rummaging through my bag to grab a black t-shirt and beige corduroy pants, I drop my trousers. I notice Granger gawping at me, eyes wide, shirts still frozen in hand.
"What?" I ask.
"Sorry, just not used to people freely changing in front of me," she replies blushing furiously.
"You've seen me naked, remember?" I remind her, winking as I turn round and pulls down my drawers. Don't need her to see my dick, but I don't care is she sees my bony arse.
"Well last time you were embarrassed…" she squeaks. Evidently, she's still staring at me.
"Because three grown men happened to see while I was unaware. It's just awkward."
I pull up my pants, new boxers on, jumping into the slim fit, buttoning and zipping up. As I whip off my shirt, I decide to face her, wanting to remember her flushed face for later.
But her visage surprises me. It's still pink with shyness, but she gazes up and down my body, from my navel to my eyes.
She practically burns my retinas with her piercing look and walks towards me. Before I realize what's happened, she's so close to me, I feel heat radiating from her exposed arms.
Tentatively, she reaches out and runs fingers along a thin scar that runs through my whole abdomen, making me quiver.
"That was from Harry, wasn't it," she whispers. "And that," she adds, dipping lower to my hip, where my pelvic muscles jut out, more from lack of food than working out. In any case, on my pelvic bone, there is a scar as well.
"Yes," I reply, my throat clogged from the tingling sensation of female gentleness. "We weren't able to heal the wounds completely."
A flashback of myself falling unconscious onto the floor, and cuts everywhere, blood spilling into every orifice fills my head, but I push it right back out.
"I probably deserved it though, considering what – ah!"
She moved her hand to my forearm, which I yank away from anyone on principle. However, she grabs it again more roughly, and traces the skull and snake pattern with her thumb.
"Does it hurt?" she asks, staring up at me with a look that's making my insides scream.
"It hasn't since he died."
"Oh."
"I want to get rid of it, but I probably can't. I guess that's my punishment for being such a pussy when it comes to standing up for what's right."
I try to chuckle, she merely stares intently at me still, leaving me to wonder why.
Then she closes her soul searchers, and lips attack me unannounced. She pushes herself up against me, and with haste, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close enough that I am almost holding her above the ground.
She shifts her weight and we tumble onto her bed. Her hot breath, her hot lips are on mine, mashing them and releasing when we can't breathe anymore.
"Hermione – what; has gotten; into you," I gasp in between kisses.
She detaches herself from me, panting. "I have no idea. I just -," she replies out of breath, running her hands again along my torso. "I find scar's fascinating, they're oddly unnatural. Each one has a story. And I'm surprised you have a little treasure trail."
She skims the fair hairs that lead from my navel to my nether regions which makes me produce sharp intake of breath.
"I just like your chest."
"Thanks," I laugh. "I probably like yours too," I wink at her. I pull her in to me, yet she resists.
"What no cuddling?" I pout. She stands up in front of the bed, and I pull myself into a sitting position, facing her.
Slowly, very seductively, she pulls off her white shapeless shirt, to reveal a simple black bra. Her boldness of not placing her hands over the lingerie is shadowed by her obvious reluctance, which makes it seem like I am the first one to get to witness such a display, and my heart leaps, and my dick hardens at the sight of her glorious encased tits. Her stomach is one of those lovely ones that carry the slightest bit of weight right where her hips begins. One that is naturally slim. She's so fucking hot.
But just like that, her peep show is over, and a camisole with a navy cardigan covers up her cleavage as quickly as it came.
"No fair." I say.
"You're lucky I even did that at all" she maintains, breathless, still unbelieving of her careless display.
"True," I reply, pulling on my shirt as well from the floor, and then grabbing the back of her thighs to pull her in for one last kiss.
"On second thought," Hermione says, after a last kiss turned into many pecks, "Why don't we just stay in for now? Transpose the music?"
Holy fuck, yes please.
"And the song we're doing?" I murmur while smooching her neck. She shivers.
"Oh god – how about the one I said originally? Redemption?"
"Sounds lovely," I reply, remembering it from last night. Beautiful piano that lingers into violins and soft percussion, which we could probably leave out. "You should put it on for inspiration, now."
"Now?" She asks, sounding in pain as I lick the shell of her ear.
"Yes."
"Well, w-who is g-going to sing?" She is shaking from the sensation, I can't fucking believe it; this is my wildest wettest dream come true.
"We both can, or I will, fuck," I bite her lobe and she gives a slight groan, but before I can pull her on top of me again, she gets up to walk to the stereo, and instead of our symphony, a fast-beat song comes on with a sexy piano intro.
Then she attacks me like a Leo,
When my heart is split like Rio,
But, I assure you my debts are real
I can't find the words to say,
When I'm confused,
I've travelled half the world to say,
You are my muse.
She certainly does attack me like a lion would. No sooner are the speakers hooked up does she come back to me, and kisses me.
And I realize in this instant (why it never occurred to me, I've no idea); Granger is horny.
Hermione Granger wants to fuck.
And she's trying not to let the best of her get away away, but oh, will I ever try to seduce her.
{}
Sure enough, by 11 pm that night, we've spent the entire day interchangeably making out and then writing down music notes on staff paper while talking about nonsense. A prefect way to spend the day, really.
We ended up strolling into Muggle town, though we walked. An hour walk, but I simply would not get on that grubby bus full of smelly people. And it was rather nice out, anyways.
It was odd just to chat with Hermione, without worrying about if people will recognize me nor her. Some boy with giant holes in his ears even said I had a 'cool tattoo', which almost made me clock him, but then Hermione nudged me and reminded me where we were. It's so weird that nobody cares who I am here; it's a blessing really.
We walked to her bookshop and picked up the Muse book from the counter. She spent an extra half an hour in there perusing everything, but I imagine she does that quite a bit at school, so I let her do it, and bought her three more books despite her protest which just wasted 15 minutes.
Then I dragged her to get an iPod, through her stupid rants about not getting her one. I actually kept asking random pedestrians where to get one until she gave up and led me to this 'Apple Store'. It didn't sell fruit, I don't really know what it did sell, but it had her device. I got her a giant one, well space-wise, whatever that means. According to the dolts down there, it's good.
Now Granger is debating with me about centaurs for some reason. I can't quite remember how we managed to get to this topic. I'm sitting at my piano in her room; she shrank her furniture to move it aside. I'm diddling with the keys as she sits atop it, very sexily posed to me, one leg crossed over the other.
She's letting out some conversation steam. She doesn't seem to realize I love arguing with her, I love how angry she gets. It's cute she cares so much.
"But Draco, can't you see that if the Ministry simply gave them the status of being intelligent, that surely they'd be more…more agreeable?"
Oh, poor pet.
"Hermione, they hate being classified in the same rank as humans, or vampires, or any people-like creature. They don't give a shit about their intelligence based by twats like Umbridge. They're 'Beasts' to the Ministry."
"Yes, I know, but that's by their choice. They have a whole world of options available to them through the government –"
"And they don't take any of those options because they see it as welfare, as degrading, can't you see that?"
"I wasn't done! I was going to say that nobody at the Ministry makes an effort to treat them like they are intelligent, I've heard Arthur Weasley joke about their Liaison offices. If one party treats the co-operation as a joke, why would the other want to come? Why not put more energy; maybe they'll want to come if there was more effort put forth?"
"Because they're stuck up brats, all of them. They won't. It doesn't necessarily mean they can't be nice or anything, but they all think they're holier than thou, you have to know that. Centaurs are extremely proud of their heritage, and Wizards aren't exactly privy to beings that prefer weapons to magic that can do more than wound. Goblins are greedy enough to exploit us like we exploit them; centaurs know better."
She clucks frustrated, and shoots me a dirty look where I smile.
"See? You know I'm right."
"You're not right, you just have some basis of truth," she grumbles, crossing her arms.
"Oh come on now, I thought we were having a great debate." I stand up, then walk around to the side of my beautiful instrument, and hook her under the arms with my hands and pull her closer to me.
Reluctantly, she schooches forwards, still upset at her lack of argument; creature rights really are the only place she sometimes has flawed logic. I kiss the top of her forehead, and she cracks a smile.
"I suppose it's just a debate."
Internally, she's dying, I know it.
I hop up to sit beside her, not wary of my device; it's almost indestructible, and two lithe bodies won't break it.
"You know you really are hot when you're angry," I laugh, placing a stray strand behind her ear. She mimics my motion and bites her lip.
"How?" she chuckles, mortified.
"Because it's nice seeing somebody get worked up about something; to care. Plus, you can release anger that way instead of snapping at me."
"I'm just glad you have something to argue with me, most people don't even care to think about what I have to say about controversial things. Some adults humour me, they still think they're smarter than me because i'm not 'old enough or experienced enough to understand,'"
"That's cause they suck."
She shakes her head at me, but leans in for the umpteenth time, planting her always luscious lips on me. I lean onto my elbows and pull her down, rolling myself into her, and she into me.
I am very aware we are atop my piano, one of my most erotic fantasies coming true, though I know I won't be able to push a naked Granger against the keys, knees on the stool and me fucking her from behind tonight.
Or having her spread right here on the hood, me pounding the fuck out of her, while she wraps her lovely legs around my body and ugh.
Fucking stop.
I know I have a slight stiff one down there, but I try to ignore it, and kiss Hermione more carnally; little bites, tongue across lips, and French experiments.
She's tugging my hair, moaning softly, and lightly hitting my shoulder blade, as if this is too much to handle. I move my hands rhythmically around her back, clutching her camisole, pulling at her shoulders, the cardigan discarded.
She puts a leg in between mine, and I am able to get her closer to me, placing a hand on her hip. She has a small intake of breath but doesn't move it, and so I push my luck by snaking it up inside her shirt.
I move my hand to cup her breast, over the soft cotton fabric. Her breath hitches. Suddenly she stops kissing me, and I feel I've hit a sour note.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, pulling her head to my chest, stroking her hair.
"It's okay, I just –"
"I know, 2 days. I can't help it. You're too much. I feel we just have that spark, Hermione. The one some people don't have with partners they completely adore otherwise. It's absolutely lethal."
I pull her away from me, and trace her bottom lip with my finger. She smiles.
"I'm trying hard not to let my head overwhelm me, let my senses take over sometimes; it's hard," she admits.
"Well it's who you are; rational. Not emotional. Don't fret, I enjoy anything I get to do to you and vice versa."
"Thanks, Draco."
I kiss her one last time, and then get out of my fantasy.
"I know you're going to that place tomorrow, d'you want to meet here the day after?"
She looks at me, smiling wider than ever. "Do you really not tire of me so quickly?"
"Of course not," I reply, helping her off so I can reshrink the piano.
She leads me to the door, where I have gathered all of my many belongings in advance, and kiss her goodnight on the porch, her silhouette even more engaging in the moonlight.
She stands in the frame as I Apparate home, waving and smiling.
I'm beaming all the way up the gravel, and into my house, and into room, where I don't even need a drink. I just lie awake on my bed, wondering what I'll do tomorrow, rehashing the day's events.
I cannot believe she likes me.
And I know now she certainly does, even if she won't say to it. Kissing her is far more passionate than Pansy's sex ever was.
I just hope this stupid 'forbidden' nonsense will clear out quickly, but I'll keep it under wraps forever if that's what she wants.
I need her in my life.
Tuesday Prophet: Morning Edition
CELEBRITY WATCH: SHOCKING NEW COUPLE ALERT
Death Eater's Son with The Gryffindor Vixen?
By Rita Skeeter
An unnamed source, who has been known to be 'very close' with the young man in question, gave tips to the Prophet that not only is Narcissa Malfoy, recent divorcee of Lucius Malfoy, getting shacked up again to a French prince, but one of our abroad photographers - Miles Hughes - snapped shots of none other than Hermione Granger, female best friend and major aid to Harry Potter, with Draco Malfoy, son of the infamous Lucius, who is serving time in Azkaban for war crimes.
The two were spotted in Boudreaux, France on Sunday at the luxurious Cerisier, a popular hotspot for Wizard and Muggle celebrities. We couldn't believe our ears, either, but believe your eyes with the snapshots printed below; is this good girl gone bad? Perhaps wild? Maybe she is yearning to salvage whatever is left of poor Draco's heart, to make him a better person.
Whatever the two lovebirds are up to, they were spotted again in Muggle Central London yesterday afternoon, on one of the main shopping districts. Pictured are the pair kissing at the dinner table (in France) and laughing jovially on the street in London (note the Muggle attire.). We at the Daily Prophet wish the best of luck to this blooming new couple!