DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters or the original plot from the Harry Potter franchise.
Chapter 2:
Contrary to popular belief, Hermione Granger was not a morning person. Sure, she had been the first one to the Great Hall each morning for breakfast, but her time at Hogwarts had been carefully managed in order to hide the simple fact that Hermione was a mess in the morning.
And to say that she was shocked to see her former classmate was an understatement. When she had been living in London, she had always expected to turn a corner in Diagon Alley and find Malfoy ready with a disparaging comment. And as much as she had been validated by her personal achievements, Hermione had been somewhat relieved when she left London and the possibility of seeing Malfoy on the street.
Following graduation, Hermione had accepted an offer to develop medicinal potions at a lab in France. This time had allowed her to live away from the media storm that swarmed the Order of the Phoenix following the Fall. True to form, Hermione had been the first to recover from the War and the first to take her NEWTs and officially graduate. Before Rita Skeeter and the other vultures had had a chance to reorganize, Hermione had slipped away into relative obscurity.
Though she'd stayed in contact with Harry and Ginny by owl, she had mostly detached herself from the goings-on in Wizard London—a fact that she somewhat regretted now that she was faced with her former tormentor.
She knew that the Malfoy name had been undergoing some changes while she had been away. Both Harry and Ginny had mentioned the aristocrat in passing, but they had stopped when it became clear that any mention of Malfoy would trigger a Hermione rant reminiscent of their Hogwarts years. The last thing Hermione wanted to hear was how that jumped-up little ferret had, in Harry's words, "really made a place for himself in society" or, in Ginny's words, slithered his way into "every female wizard's fantasy." Had wizarding society truly been allowed to fall into such a decline?
Malfoy had aligned himself with the Light following the death of his father at the hands of their Lord and joined the Order at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Logically Hermione understood the unlikelihood of Malfoy betraying the Order—Harry would not risk another member of his family after the death of Sirius their 3rd year—but reason did little to soothe her own anxiety about the matter.
Malfoy, himself, seemed quite willing to provoke her. It seemed that he had not forgotten the punch from 3rd year. Their fights nearly brought Grimmauld Place down. Malfoy's laissez-faire attitude about the war effort bothered Hermione more than Harry's silence and withdrawal or Ron's late night disappearances to muggle pubs. Malfoy's provocation of Hermione combined with her own fatigue and frayed nerves would cause her to lose control of herself in a way that irked her to no end.
Hermione shook herself, trying to push away the anxiety she was feeling about seeing Malfoy again. That was a dangerous path to go down. Wait! Where was Malfoy? Hermione blushed, realizing she had been staring at the blonde ferret for an unacceptable length of time telling by the unforgivable smirk on his face. Her mother gave her a knowing look, causing Hermione's blush to deepen as she realized the full gravity of the situation she had woken up to. She was trapped in the window seat of an airplane flight with her parents and her worst enemy, who just happened to be Witch Weekly's "Most Eligible Bachelor" for five years running. She saw the mischief in her mother's eyes.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Just over a half an hour, dear." Hermione's mother looked too delighted that they were stuck on the plane for another hour. "Mr. Malfoy was just asking us about your book. I take it you two know each other from Hogwarts?"
"Please call me, Draco." The Slytherin offered smoothly, not shaken by the mention of their school years. "I have to say I teased Hermione quite a bit back in the day, but you can hardly make light of a published author. You must be so proud."
Her parents beamed, and Hermione knew she had lost them for the time being. She would have been shocked by his compliments if not for the challenge in his grey eyes.
"Malfoy." She smiled tightly. "I didn't know that a man of your station would deign to fly on an airplane with all of the Muggles."
"Chipmunk! What a way to speak to a fellow classmate. It's no wonder at all that you've barely kept in contact with any of your Hogwarts friends with that tone." Hermione closed her eyes in frustration at her mother scolding her like she was a teen again.
"Yes, Chipmunk." Malfoy joined in with barely concealed amusement. "And since we have so much free time, do tell. Where has Hermione Granger been hiding all of these years?"
Hermione glanced at her wristwatch. Five minutes had passed.
I must be in hell. This is my fresh hell.