The Granger home was not as large as Malfoy Manor, not even close but it was homey. It was located in a Suburban neighborhood that was completely muggle with cars going to and from each house. A modest two stories made up the house with its four bedroom and three baths. There was no way that it could hold a candle to the home that Draco grew up in whether in opulence or in size, but it did beat the home in Wiltshire with its homey appeal. There was a warmth and charm in the house that could soak into a person's very bones. Even Draco could feel it as he sat at the dining table in the middle of the kitchen area.
There was such a contrast from the place he'd grown up when compared to the place that Hermione had grown up. Still he couldn't help but stare as Hermione stood at the opening of the dining room with her parents. The ways that her mother touched her hair and smiled at her made his stomach plummet a bit because he couldn't help but think of his mother. But it wasn't what bothered him the most, rather it was the way her father seemed to be glowing with pride and adoration as he spoke to her that made a ping of jealousy build in his core.
When Hugh Granger looked up at Draco, he looked away so to avoid his gaze and it was a good thing because there was no disguising the jealousy that was swirling in gray eyes. Hermione looked over her shoulder and easily read how tense Draco was, but she looked to her mother and smiled. Gently, she coaxed her mother's hand away from her hair and took hold of it so to lead her over to Draco. She didn't have to say anything for her father to follow along because he was right behind her and her mother.
"Mum, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy," she said gently eying the Slytherin as if to tell him he better play nice or suffer her wrath.
Draco turned around to face them before getting to his feet, albeit rather reluctantly, so he could show them some respect.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said while offering his hand to Hugh first.
"It's my pleasure, you can call me Hugh," he said and shook Draco's hand gingerly.
"And you can call me Elene. It's nice to meet you, dear. We hope this hasn't inconvenienced you too much."
Hermione glared at Draco, half expecting him to make an offhanded comment that was more a backhanded compliment than a simple answer, but it seemed he was full of surprises and humility this afternoon.
"Not at all, Elene. I hope that I haven't inconvenienced you by tagging along on your vacation."
"Not at all, love. Any friend of Hermione's is welcome on this trip," she smiled kindly to him.
"Speaking of friends, Harry and Ron couldn't make it?" Hugh asked as he looked to his daughter with soft eyes.
"No, dad. They had their own projects to take care of with their partners."
"Ah, well that's too bad," Hugh frowned gently before shrugging his shoulders, not even realizing the slight change in Draco's demeanor and the sneer that moved over his face for a few moments. "But your mother and I should get going if we're to catch our flights."
"Of course, you shouldn't be late," Hermione agreed.
"We're going to call as soon as we get to the cottage."
"And Draco and I will meet you there. We need to go by magical means; Draco isn't used to muggle means of transportation."
"That's right, okay," Hugh said with a hint of worry in his voice.
"Hermione will be fine, Draco looks like a strong chap he'll take care of her. Won't you, Draco?"
For a moment Draco looked as if he had been caught in the headlights, but he cleared his throat and nodded.
"Yes, mam, of course I will."
"See, Hugh. We have nothing to worry about, now let's go."
"Okay, Draco would you be so kind to help me get the suitcases in the car?" Hugh asked as he looked to the boy with a soft grin. "Women should never be made to do the work a man can do for her."
Elene beamed, her face lighting up with the adoration and love she felt for her husband and Draco couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable. It wasn't something that he was used to seeing on his parent's faces, but he didn't let it bother him too much instead he nodded and followed Hugh into the foyer where the four suitcases stood against the wall.
It was like a dream to see Draco actually behaving himself and being kind to his parents, but Hermione found herself smiling despite the fact that she was sure he was just doing it because they were older than he was. Still she followed after the two men with her mother out the front door and down the walkway to the car parked in the driveway. There was something eerie about seeing Malfoy place the suitcases in the boot of the car with her father, even more so when the two men seemed to chatter and smile at one another. Could Draco actually be enjoying himself with her muggle father? Or was he possibly a better actor than she ever gave him credit for?
Whatever the answer to the question may have been she was going to have to wait a bit longer to get it because her thoughts were interrupted when her mother turned on her and smiled. There was no need for words; it was always this way with her mother. She acted as if Hermione was once again going to board the train to Hogwarts and leave her for months on end when it would only be a few hours. Still, Hermione hugged her back and smiled before pulling back and looking up at her mom.
"You be safe, love. And try not to destroy the house while you wait, hm?" Elene smiled; apparently she had remembered Hermione mentioning that she and Draco were not the best of friends.
Hermione blushed before nodding her head at her mother's request, unable to answer because she was soon being scooped up into her father's arms. There was no doubt in her mind that her dad gave the best bear hugs in the world, he squeezed her just hard enough that as soon as he released her she'd still be feeling it moments later. She felt warm due to the embrace and couldn't help the wide grin that moved over her face.
"Thanks, dad, you're the greatest," she said with a soft laugh.
"Well, I have to thank my lucky stars every day for having you for a daughter. I must have done something right besides marrying your mother," Hugh grinned before kissing Hermione's forehead gently.
Draco was watching this with a pretty passive expression on his face, but he was wondering just how anyone could ever live up Granger's expectations of love. Her parents were so perfect at being happy; he was suddenly aware of the reasons why Hermione had to be perfect at just about everything she did. It ran in the family.
The Granger family split up as Hugh moved to the drivers' seat and Elene moved to the passengers'. Hugh rolled down his window so to wave at his daughter before he turned his brown eyes to Draco and pointed at him with a smile.
"Take care of my little girl, son. I'm leaving her in your hands."
"I'll do my best, sir," Draco said quite seriously.
Hermione and Draco stood in the walkway as they watched her parent's car back out of the driveway and drive off down the street. She felt a bit weary at the idea of spending another few hours with Draco all by herself but she knew there was no way to get around it. And with one last wave to her parents as they disappeared down the street Hermione turned around to head back into the house.
Though he didn't know what exactly was going on and how they would get to France, Draco was glad that Hermione thought to keep him from being put into yet another uncomfortable situation. He had actually figured that she would not give a damn and instead let him suffer through it. But he had to wonder what she had in store for them when it came to transportation; she probably got them a portkey of some sort.
Draco followed her back into the house and into the kitchen where Hermione was sifting through the refrigerator. She took the Tupperware container that was filled with left over Shepard's pie that her mother said she'd made the night before. Setting out two plates on the counter, Hermione looked over to Draco and quirked her brow.
"Do you want some? It's my mother's specialty, it's better than the Shepard's pie we get at school," Hermione said with a nostalgic smile as she scooped some of the meaty concoction onto one plate.
"Erm, sure," Draco said as he watched Hermione.
The thought occurred to him that she was actually treating him more like a friend than someone she was forced to work with that she didn't like at all. She just put a spoonful of food onto the second plate before popping one into a boxlike contraption that had Draco a bit confused.
"What is that you're putting it in?"
"It's a microwave, Draco. It warms up the food," Hermione said with a smile.
"Oh," he said, still curious as to how but he decided not to ask any more questions.
Soon the food was nice and warm and Hermione set the plates of food on the table along with a couple of forks before hurrying off to the fridge to take out the bottle of butterbeer that she always kept in the house. Pouring two glasses of the amber liquid she set the bottle aside before taking her seat across from Draco.
He poked at the food for a moment as if trying to figure out if it was worth eating or not till finally he took a forkful and was pleasantly surprised on how good it tasted. It was probably the best Shepard's pie he had ever eaten, but he wasn't going to voice that.
"So how are we getting to France?"
"Well, I know that you didn't want anyone to know that you were coming with me, but I had to tell Professor McGonagall so she could help me get a sanctioned portkey," Hermione said between her bites of food.
Sometimes she forgot just how much she missed her mother's cooking, but right now she was content to have the warmth in her stomach. Stopping to take a drink from her glass, she watched Draco as he ate while looking more at peace with the world than she had ever seen him look. It was different to see him content or even happy about what he was doing, but there was always something heavy in his gray eyes that he didn't hide as well as he thought he did. But right now, he looked absolutely at ease until he looked up to find her staring and he glared.
"What?" He demanded.
"Nothing, for a second there you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself," Hermione said nonchalantly.
"Well, your mother's cooking isn't all that bad."
"No, she's really good actually. Does your mum cook?"
"No."
"Oh."
"It's not her place to cook, it's beneath her."
"A woman working with her hands and cooking for her family isn't something to look down upon."
"Truth is I don't think she knows how to cook," Draco said with a shrug as he sipped at his glass of butterbeer.
"Well, that's understandable. I don't think it would have been part of her upbringing."
"It definitely was not. My grandmother was hardly the homely type either."
"Ah," Hermione nodded as she finished off her plate and made to wash it in the sink. "So you knew your grandparents?"
"Yes, but they died when I was still young."
"Oh."
Draco stood up with his nearly completely cleaned plate in hand before moving over to her to reach in and slip it into the sink, but Hermione took hold of his wrist and shook her head.
"In this house we clean after ourselves."
"Oh come on, Granger. I've never had to clean a dish in my life."
"It's really not that hard," she said with a grin, probably enjoying his discomfort far more than she should have.
"Don't make me do this," Draco said with a groan, but Hermione moved up next to him and urged him to dip his plate into the sink.
She reached in to get the sponge that was still warm and soapy from having been used to clean her own plate and she offered it to him. Draco eyed the porous thing before wrinkling his nose at it and taking it from her hand, grimacing at the feel of it in his palm. Though he really couldn't complain too much it wasn't exactly the most horrible thing he'd ever done. So he started to slowly work at the plate slowly, rubbing up and down and only making to smear more of the mashed potatoes and what was left of the gravy from the meat. It only seemed to be getting dirtier rather than getting cleaner.
"You're supposed to do it in circles and dip the sponge in every once in a while," Hermione laughed gently.
Draco's brow furrowed in frustration though he nearly flinched when he felt Hermione's hand sliding over his to guide the movements of the sponge. She guided him in slow circles, forcing him to dip his hand into warm water to clean the sponge before once again working it over the glass surface of the plate. It only took a few minutes for it to get clean, but Draco didn't seem to notice because he was looking down at Hermione rather than down at the dish in his hand.
There was a warmth building up in his chest that was foreign to him, so foreign in fact that it rather startled him to the point that he flinched. His flinch was enough to get her attention and she looked up from the plate so to look up at Draco. When she caught that he was looking down at her and she couldn't help the blush that moved over her cheeks.
"I think it is clean now, Draco. You should stop before you was off the designs on it," she said with a smile before pulling her hand away from his.
"Oh," he said with a chuckle before pulling the plate out of the water and placing it on the drying rack with Hermione's plate.
"It wasn't so bad was it? Not as scary as you thought. Hm?"
"Are you making fun of me, Granger?"
"Not at all, Malfoy, I'm actually proud of you."
"Right," Draco said as he dried his hands on dishtowel Hermione had handed him.
"Well, we can wait in the living room till my dad phones us."
Hermione stepped out of the kitchen into the living room and plopped down on the couch, grabbing the nearest magazine. It was actually one that was for those into dentistry with main stories talking about new finds for keeping teeth healthy along with new techniques. She lost herself in the pages, perhaps not as into it as her parents were but she didn't mind it at all. Draco took this time to walk around the living room slowly, his eyes sweeping over each of the frames atop the fire mantle and shelves.
All of them displayed smiling faces whether it was Elene, Hugh or Hermione, but they seemed to smile the brightest when the three of them together. So used to his photos moving, he was caught off guard by the fact that these pictures stayed completely still. It didn't do anything to take away from the emotion that was displayed on their faces, but Draco stood before them and studied the ones of Hermione on her own longer than the rest. Whether it was the one of her in her bathing suit when she was just eight or nine or one from last Christmas of her sitting amongst her presents and holding up the new toothbrush her parents got her with a smile on her face that made it seem like it was the best gift in the world.
Was she always this happy with her parents? Draco could only wonder if that was how it was supposed to be. It was never that way with his mother and father; he couldn't remember the last time he actually smiled so much that it hurt. Sometimes he smiled when it was just him and his mother, but never when it was all of them. There just seemed to be something weighing on his father that he made sure everyone else felt when he was in the room. In all honesty, these pictures made him a bit jealous.
"Draco?" Hermione broke through his minor stupor.
"What?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just looking at your photos. It's a bit odd to see them stay still like that."
"It's not as bad as you think. It's just a few photos," she laughed to herself before shaking her head as she placed the magazine down. "You learn to get used to it. My parents still get a bit out of sorts when I show them pictures of Harry, Ron and I that move."
"My parents would probably fall of their nut if I showed them a photo that remained still."
"Ron was a bit confused by it, he shouted at them the first time before I explained to him that they were muggle photos not magical ones."
"Weasley would do something like that and make a fool of himself."
"Don't be cruel, Draco. Ron is well meaning and like you he's grown up in the wizarding world all his life."
"His life is nothing like mine."
"Why? Because you have money and he doesn't?"
"Yes, for one thing. For another his sense of family and my sense of family are completely different aren't they?"
"Not really. He loves his parents and I'm sure you love yours. They love you and as his love him."
"But it's different. I don't expect you to understand."
"I could try if you'd actually explain yourself for once instead of being cryptic about it."
"Forget it," Draco mumbled.
Hermione was about to protest his sudden silence when the phone on the end table next to her started ringing. She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, smiling as she heard her father on the other line.
"Okay, dad. We will leave now," Hermione said gently before laughing. "Don't worry so much. I'm sure Draco will take care of me or I'll be taking care of him really."
Draco was watching her and he felt that odd warmth spread in his chest when he heard her giggle. He swallowed thickly before turning away from her and heading toward the entranceway where he left his satchel and where Hermione's single suitcase stood. It was a good thing to catch a breath without having to look at her. In fact it gave Draco the ability to rub at his chest in confusion to the feeling that had been building there.
There had only been a few minutes that he was able to use to reign in that feeling before Hermione walked into the hallway with a rusty looking horseshoe in her hand. She held it out to Draco as she reached to take her suitcase from beside him. The thought occurred to him that he should stop her and carry her bag for her, but he didn't. Instead he just took hold of the other side of the horseshoe and pulled the strap of his satchel over his shoulder.
"So when is this thing going to take-"
He didn't even have time to finish his statement before that feeling of being tugged from around the waist took over him. Hermione was gone when the world started spinning and all that was solid under his feet was gone to the wind. Scenery was blurred into one continuous motion till he finally heard Hermione's voice warning him to brace himself. Using a portkey wasn't exactly his favorite mode of transportation, but he had enough sense to bend his knees and actually managed to find the ground without meeting it on his hands and knees.
Though he might have saved himself, Hermione hadn't. She was on her hands and knees before him, there was snow beneath her and Draco rushed over to help her get up. Surely, her hands were going to freeze off from having been dipped in the snow but he helped her onto her feet. Taking her hands into his he rubbed them for a moment before releasing them and looking her over.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'll never get used to landing that way," she laughed before looking over his shoulder, which caused him to turn around to look too. "But welcome to France, Malfoy."
The view almost took his breath away. They were standing on a precipice of sorts with snow that was only a couple of inches deep beneath their feet. It was fresh and white, but it was the scent in the air that let him know he was somewhere that wasn't at all like London. He could smell pine and crisp clean smell of the woodsy air around them. In the distance he could see a modest two-story cottage nestled amongst the tall pine trees with smoke billowing out of the chimney. A pile of firewood was built up against the side of the cabin. It looked welcoming, homey even.
"Come on," Hermione said with a small smile.