Thanks for clicking! Here's Chapter Two, guys! Sorry about the wait, real quick, but details on that with the author's note at the end.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story. That would be J.K. Rowling (and if she is reading this right now in order to sue me, I don't care because that means fucking J.K. Rowling read my story, the brilliant genius writer that she is).
Hermione pulled her hair up into a bun, unable to wrap the elastic around more than once since her curls were so thick. This was not a task for which she wanted to have to worry about her hair. All the details had been worked out with various Ministry representatives, the destination had been readied, and papers been signed. All that was left was to pick up and transfer the cargo.
For the sake of smooth sailing, all the arrangements were made separately. Hermione talked with the mediator and drew up contracts, which were then relayed to Malfoy at a separate time and place.
All in all, the whole situation had been pretty tolerable thus far.
Today they were going to bring Malfoy in and the two of them were shipping off to stay in her grandmother's house in America. Her stomach writhed just thinking about it. At least grandmama wouldn't be there. She moved to Florida in the winter to live in an old person's community, which left her house in upstate New York completely empty all season long. It would be perfect.
A knock echoed in the Minister's office, and her head snapped around to glare at the door. What have I gotten myself into? She thought.
"Mr. Malfoy. Are you ready?"
No. No, he certainly was not.
"Yes."
"Your bags will be transported to your destination later today." The guy's eyes were glued to his clipboard of papers. Every few seconds he would glance over at Draco, and if he got too close the guy would flinch away or shrug his shoulder. "You will be taking a portkey to a designated location, then you will be driving the remaining distance."
"Why don't we just apparate straight there?"
"It has been warded against apparition."
Ah, of course. He should have known.
They continued down the hall for another five minutes, turning around hundreds of corners and descending thousands of staircases until the man finally stopped in front of a door.
"Casey" the name tag said. Not this guy again, Draco thought. He'd stopped playing with mud when he was five. The guy knocked on the door before walking in.
Instead of mud, though, his eyes connected with chocolate. He hadn't expected to see her just yet. With all the suspense they'd built up by delaying them actually seeing each other, he'd assumed there would be some kind of big reveal. Maybe a curtain sliding to the side for a spinning pedestal on which he was doing the thinking man. Or, even better, a silver platter covered in one of those dome things, under which he was laying, an apple in his mouth.
She was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, her hair tied up into a loose, messy bun. She wore a white blouse overtop straight-legged, grey suit pants, her robes open and draping over her shoulders. She stood when they walked in.
"Ms. Granger, Draco Malfoy." The man gestured from her to him. "Mr. Mal-"
"You don't need to introduce us, Paul. We know each other." Granger stared Draco straight in the eye. He felt like he'd just apparated to his kitchen ten years earlier, staring into the big vat of melted chocolate on Christmas Eve, waiting for it to be done so he could help the house elves pour it out into various molds.
She studied him for what seemed like forever, but was probably more like a couple minutes, before holding her hand out to him. His eyes dropped to it, there between them. His arm weighed a thousand pounds suddenly. A handshake? Since when did they shake hands? Not that they'd ever been in the sort of situation in which shaking hands would be appropriate.
Oh, right, you just punched me in the face. Put 'er there, Granger. Yep, just tried to hex you into oblivion, let's shake on it.
But there her hand was anyway. In this situation, it made sense, but it still seemed so out of place. The history between them was so stormy that the idea of them shaking hands sounded more like two strangers getting married than just shaking hands.
However, as strange as it seemed to him, it would send the completely wrong message if he refused, so he forced his hand into hers and shook.
Their eyes met again, and this time her brows were furrowed and her lips pursed. Confused, Granger? Perhaps she expected him to slap her hand away and call her a filthy mudblood.
"Been a while," Granger said.
"Quite." Draco glanced around the room. The theme seemed to be mahogany. Had he inadvertently walked into a cabin in the woods? He hated camping.
The kid who'd brought Draco to the deepest depths of the dungeons, to this terribly quaint room, cleared his throat. Draco watched him, whatever his name was. Pat? Is that what Granger called him? Pat gestured to the empty chairs in front of the desk, the one Granger had occupied when they first walked in, and another positioned just beside it. Draco sat in the chair that had not been claimed.
Pat nodded, cleared his throat again while wiping sweat from his forehead (ha! the kid wasn't even involved in the exchange and he was getting nervous), and started toward the door.
"The Minister will be in shortly to facilitate and go over last minute plans."
Draco twisted toward the kid as he was walking out and yelled,
"Thanks, Pat! Send my love to the wife!" Draco chuckled as the door clicked shut. The poor guy was already freaked out, now he'd be terrified for his wife. He glanced off to his side. Granger glared at him, her once chocolate eyes now rolling with volcanic ash.
"What's got your knickers all in a twist?"
Granger released a puff of air from her mouth, her lips fluttering.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. What's with the angry eyes?"
She scoffed, then glowered at him for another minute before saying anything.
"For one thing, his name is Paul. If you managed to listen to the world for more than compliments of your looks and reassurances of your abilities, perhaps you would have caught that. And, secondly, do you have to be so utterly, horribly, unbearably repulsive?" Throughout her mini tirade, her face became increasingly red, and Draco had been entranced by one vein on her forehead he was certain would burst at any moment.
He pretended to snap himself out of a daze, then smirked at her.
"What was that about my looks and abilities?"
Granger groaned and slammed her palms on the armrests of her chair.
The door opened then, to which they both swung around, and in came the muddy-eyed bastard that assigned him this punishment to start with. Now it was Draco's turn to glare.
"Sorry about that, you two. I had an important meeting that went longer than expected. I hope you weren't waiting too long."
"Just long enough to get her to want to kill me again," Draco said. He gestured to Granger's red face and white knuckles.
"See, it just won't work. Too bad. She hates me." Draco stood to leave, but felt a hand on his arm.
"Not so fast, Malfoy," Granger said. She dug her nails into his skin and he fought the urge to cringe. Instead, he turned to lock eyes with her and peeled her fingers from his arm.
"I'll warn you not to touch me. Ever. Again. Or you might just lose a finger, mudblood." He'd hoped he wouldn't have to use that word. He hated to. But he hated the idea of being locked up in a house in the Muggle world with her much more.
"I'll warn you never to use that word in my presence again. Or you might just lose a lot more than a finger, Malfoy." Their eyes were trained on each other, both filled with so much fire the air between them felt hot. Mud-eyes cleared his throat.
"Miss Granger, are you still willing to go along with all this?" Granger broke eye contact and turned toward the Minister.
"Yes, sir. Nothing could sway me."
Great.
"Then it's settled. I just have one last paper for each of you to sign to bind all the requirements and agreements of this situation, and then you're good to go."
Dammit. His one last shot to end this for good, and it was gone.
Mud-eyes pulled a paper from his desk and handed it to Granger first, who read it over, then signed her name. She slid it over to Draco, refusing to look at him, and tossed the pen at him.
The document was short; to the point. It was a list of very well-summarized versions of all the components they'd agreed on previously. And, honestly, it could be worse. Draco read through it to be certain nothing had been changed on him, then picked up the pen.
In that moment he wished to whatever higher power was out there that he didn't believe in - Merlin, God, Zeus, Buddha - whoever the fuck wanted to listen, he was asking. A meteor, a freak fire, an earthquake, the resurrection of Voldemort himself in that very room; something to keep him from having to sign that paper.
But nothing happened and he signed his name underneath Hermione Granger without a hitch.
When everything had been discussed one last time, Mud-eyes stood and walked to the side on which they sat. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, which Draco shook off, and gestured for them to go through the door.
They followed him down the hall to another room, this one big and empty like a gymnasium. A seashell, sealed shut, rested on a table in the center of the room . Swirling across its surface was a pattern of silver and red.
"How inconspicuous," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"Not where we're going." Hermione looked him up and down.
"Enjoying the view, Granger?"
She scowled at him.
"You won't blend in with your robes on. Take them off."
Draco feigned shock, his arms covering his mouth in a gasp.
"Granger!" He said. "How indecent!"
She raised her eyebrows at him. Her face hardened into stone and the room went cold, a fair warning to any intelligent soul to stop whatever it was they were saying and change the damn subject, but Draco continued.
"As flattered as I am, Granger, you do, unfortunately, disgust me. Maybe look to the Weasel next time you have an itch that needs scratching. He seems more your type; pathetic, ugly, impuissant, naive. Like two peas in a pod, really."
Granger's burning face, red and blotchy, thawed her features. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. She took a step closer, her arm raised, and he was worried she was about to hit him again. Do it, he thought.
When she was just a step from him, her hand inches from his cheek, she froze. Her eyes still burned, and her face still resembled an over-ripe tomato, but her body relaxed and her fingers fell to her sides rather than his face.
"Just take off the damn robes, Malfoy." She swung away from him and strutted to the center of the room to that seashell. Draco sighed, then started after her, dropping his robes to the floor halfway there. He didn't have much of a choice. So long as she still agreed to go through with this, he was stuck.
He wore a suit underneath, lucky for them. Some days he went with old traditions and donned only his knickers below those billowy robes. Who said girls were the only ones who were allowed to feel the breeze?
He stood adjacent to Granger, her face a mask of indifference as she stared down that blasted seashell. This was sure to be fun.
Mud-eyes strolled over after them and stood a few paces back.
"Hermione, you have my call number. Anyday, anytime, you know that," he said, and Granger nodded.
"And Mr. Malfoy, you know the consequences if you break any of the stipulations in your contract. No touching without permission, no leaving the house without a chaperone, et cetera et cetera. Any rules that Ms. Granger administers must be followed as well. Failure to comply is a lifetime sentence in Azkaban."
"Yes, I'm aware. You've only explained a thousand times." Draco groaned.
"Once more can't hurt."
"Except my eardrums!"
They both ignored him, looking around the room, trying to remember any other tidbits that needed to be reviewed.
"There isn't anything else, then, I don't think." Mud-eyes smiled at them, like he was sending his two eldest off to Hogwarts.
Granger turned to Draco, her eyes melting his resolve for a moment, and he felt his hand start to move.
"On the count of three," she said. Her hand hovered above the shell, as did his, and she stared into his eyes while she counted.
"3." He noticed there was a swirl of green close to her pupil. "2." Specks of black dotted the iris throughout. "1." The chocolate was lighter toward the center, darker toward the edge, her eyelashes were long and thick, her skin was dewy, her cheeks were high, her jaw sharp, her teeth buck, her lips thin, her nose crooked, her neck long, her hair frizzy, her collarbone defined, her shoulders round, her arms strong, her body beautiful.
All these observations were made in those three seconds, in addition to a few others that Draco deemed unimportant to analyze as of that moment.
For those three seconds Draco Malfoy had been lost in Hermione Granger's eyes. Then both their hands connected with red and silver, and they mixed into a fusion of colors and melding physics as they transported to a new destination far from the place where it mattered that he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor.
Author's Note: I'm so very sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter to you. I know you've heard it all before, but this is a very busy month. Finals next week so even though I just had a few days of break, it was all spent studying. I haven't even had time to read stories let alone write them. Good news, though! Once finals are over, I will have LOADS of time to write and will probably be able to do two chapters a week so I promise it'll be worth it if you just stick around and endure no updates for a little while.
So this chapter is not my favorite. It wasn't all that much fun to read, and sort of dragged a little so it ended up being a little short because I just didn't like writing it. It's more of a transition, as most second chapters tend to be in fanfiction stories and just stories in general.
I don't know if anyone was thinking this, but I'll explain anyway. Obviously this story isn't following the books to a tee. It disregards the epilogue, but all occurrences written in the pages of J.K. Rowlings stories leading up to that apply to this story as well. At least, most of them. It's been a little while since I last read the series (two years?) so I'm a bit rusty when it comes to the book world, so the movie canon may cross over a little into my story's canon. Also, in this story, Draco's dad is in Azkaban (where, I think, he should have been put in the actual books! Come on, man; he was an asshole and a liar and a killer. Why the fuck wasn't he in jail?). These are probably things I should have discussed in Ch. 1 but I forgot, so here they are.
Have any questions, please review! I'm happy to clarify. I assure you, I have thought this story out in depth so anything you may think is a discrepancy may actually be just a part of the story; something that I put there purposefully. Let me know what you're thinking so far (I see you out there reading, favoriting, following; let me know you're there because I love you already). And, as always, stay classy ;)
-babyemery