Here's your next chapter. BTW sorry if we offended anyone with our requests. We were just overexcited. Anyways if we remember correctly this is the fifth chapter. Remember how we asked you guys to guess our age? Well only one person really put in a guess...
potterhead27: you just missed the mark. We are both 13 years old! Even though that may not last for long... And your prize! *drum roll please* Well we can't give you a real prize but this chapter is dedicated to you.
potterhead27 thank you so much for your dedication to our story.
Draco sat at the Italian Bistro he had suggested, alone. No, Aspen had not backed out on him, he had come an hour early. He sat on of the elegantly crafted seats strumming his fingers on the granite tabletop watching a football game on one of the suspended televisions. A cute server with fake red hair winked at him flirtatiously but he didn't notice. He was too busy trying to think of how to talk to her without confusing her even further. How can I speak to a girl that looks just like my dead fiancée?
Ding-a-liglig! Draco was shaken out of his thoughts by the bell on the top of the door being knocked about. He turned around to see Herm- Aspen walk into the small building. Draco looked at her slack-jawed. Aspen was wearing a blue blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt and a pair of peek-toe black heels. Her hair was up in a braided bun with a few curly treadles hanging down. She smiled slightly as she caught sight of him, and walked over.
"Hey." Aspen grinned. Draco stood from his seat and pulled out a chair gesturing for her to take a seat. Aspen's eyes sparkled as she took a seat and Draco took one beside her. "What are you; some kind of well-trained aristocrat?" she laughed.
Draco chuckled. "Actually, I am," he replied, trying, and failing, to sound offended. Aspen giggled. "So what do you want to get?"
"Um," Aspen picked up her menu. "I think I'm going to get the Fettuccini Alfredo with parmesan cheese."
"Ok, so no meat." Draco asked. Aspen nodded and bit her lip. Just like Hermione.
"Yeah, when I was younger I got really sick from food poisoning from badly cooked meat. I can't stand the stuff anymore." Draco nodded.
"Ciao! Welcome to Oro Cibo Italiana. What can I get for you?" The red-headed waitress from earlier, asked. She bent over, show off her large bosom.
"I'll get the Fettuccini Alfredo no chicken with parmesan cheese." The waitress shot her a glare a quickly jotted down the order.
"And for you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Draco inwardly gagged as the waitress's sickly-sweet perfume wafted over him.
"I'll get the same as my date." He replied, glaring at her. The waitress shot up as though shot and swiftly walked away. He sighed exasperatedly. "Sorry about that. Can't blame her though. I am as hot as hell." Draco stated, charismatically. Aspen snorted and rolled her eyes. "Hey that wasn't very lady-like."
"Does it look like I care?" Aspen asked patronizingly. He shook his head. "Ok, so now that we're on the same page… Do live here in Italy now or were you only here to get Macnair?"
"The latter, how 'bout you," Draco asked, finally getting to the questions he was wondering about.
"Well I'm a seventh year student from Beauxbatons who is on a trip in Italy because they are trying to get rid of me." Aspen explained. "Apparently I'm too tomboyish to be at a school with proper young ladies. More like stuck up girls who wear too much make up." she muttered.
"Soo… you're here because you not wanted there." Draco clarified. Aspen nodded.
"If I was normal I would have been chucked onto the street years ago, which I would have welcomed, but I had too much power for it to go to waste. At least that's what they told me."
"Too much power what do they mean by that?" Draco asked.
"Well, let's just say that by second year I could do wandless magic." Aspen whispered. Draco'd eyes widened.
"You mean-"
"Here are your dinners you two. What a lovely couple you two are." A jolly woman announced. She set down the meals carefully and smiled at them. "What else would you like?"
"Um, I think we're fine right now." Draco replied, relieved that they had a different waitress.
" Alrighty then. Just call if you need anything. My name's Jolinda." She then walked away to ask another table what they would like.
Draco and Aspen ate in silence. Draco pondering over the new information. If she is a seventh year that must mean she is eighteen years old. The same age Hermione was when she died.
Once they had finished the meal Draco paid the waitress and they walked out into the night.
What did you think? If we made in mistake you would like to have us fix there's a very kind box down there that can help you contact us. Can you see it waving at you. O...K... that sounded kinda creepy. Will you check out our profile?