"No, no, no, no. They aren't supposed to be back yet," Hermione muttered, helplessly looking for a place to hide the blonde Slytherin.
"It's fine, parents love me," Draco shrugged, seating himself on the plush sofa with a smirk.
"Not my parents," Hermione stated, grabbing his arm and unceremoniously pulling him out of the chair.
"Woah, Granger." He yanked his arm away from the panicking Gryffindor, watching as Hermione's parents circled round to the back of the strange creature they'd arrived in, lifting a piece of its armour. He turned at a loud thunk behind him. Hermione was rooting through a cupboard, shoving all manner of paraphernalia to one side.
"So erm, not your parents? They haven't even met me." Hermione paused, turning to him indignantly.
"Really? You bullied me for years, you don't think I might have mentioned that to my mom and dad? I tell them everything."
"Hmm, including the life-threatening crap that Potty drags you into daily?" Draco asked, raising a blonde eyebrow. Hermione stuttered over an answer, before giving up and concentrating her efforts on the task in front of her.
"Ooo didn't think so. So, what should I start with, massive Basilisk, going about his Basilisk business, beneath the floorboards? You remember, the one that froze you…" Hermione grumbled, climbing to her feet.
"You mention anything, and I mean anything -" Draco smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender when Hermione waved her finger in his face.
"I know, I know, you'll poke me to death. The horror."
Hermione glared at him, stepping to one side, and gesturing to the small space that she'd created.
"Nice cupboard," Draco said dryly, inspecting the enclosed space, nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Thanks, now get in," Hermione encouraged, glancing between him and the front door nervously.
"Malfoy's do not get in cupboards," Draco muttered pompously, arms crossed. A shove in his back made him stumble, arms flailing and bracing against the door frame to keep his balance.
"What the fuck, Granger?"
"Stop being a git and get in the cupboard." She pushed against him harder, gritting her teeth when he refused to budge.
"I'm being a git? Seriously have you - Alright, enough of this." Draco let go of the frame quickly and stepped to the side, smirking when Hermione let out a squeak stumbling past him and falling unceremoniously into the cupboard, an avalanche of shoes falling onto her head.
"You couldn't just do what I asked, could you?" Hermione spat, extricating herself from the rubble, a couple of items tumbling around her in the aftershock.
"As I said, Malfoy's do not get in cupboards." Draco grinned as Hermione huffed angrily, struggling to her feet. He offered both his hands like olive branches of peace which she eyed suspiciously. Logic suggested that the gesture wasn't a trap but with Malfoy, it was always best not to jump to logical conclusions. After a moment's hesitation, she allowed him to pull her up off the floor, swaying precariously towards him. He steadied her, hands grasping her shoulders, the pad of his thumb brushing against her skin. She closed her eyes as magic flared around the connection.
"Er, thanks." She stepped back and heaved a sigh of relief when his hand slipped off her shoulders and fell by his side.
"No problem." He nearly cringed at how pathetically choked his voice sounded. He mentally hexed himself as thoughts wandered to how nice she looked, and how easy it would be just to lean forward and...
The door opened, banging slightly against the wall, sending them both jumping back.
"We're ba -" Hermione's mom paused mid-sentence as she noticed the unfamiliar boy standing in her house.
"Mom. Dad, er hi," She squeaked, pushing past Draco and stepping out into the hallway. They were a sight. Hermione with her hair thoroughly mussed up, cheeks glowing red and Draco, standing behind her, sheepishly tracing the pattern of the carpet with his shoe, hands dug firmly into his pockets, matching blush on his face.
"Are you - are you going to introduce us to your friend?" Hermione's mom gestured to Draco.
"Oh well, err." Hermione turned, taking in the suit-wearing Slytherin. She realised she had no idea how to introduce him. Either way, her parents would have a heck of a lot of questions. "This is umm -"
Striding forward, Draco took Hermione's Mother's hand in his own and brought the knuckles gently to his lips "My name is Draco Malfoy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Hermione blinked owlishly as the simple gesture made her mother blush.
"Malfoy ay?" Draco squirmed uncomfortably as her dad eyed him up and down, looking none too impressed.
"Er, yes sir." He offered his hand to shake, watching the man's eyebrows rise in shock. Mr Granger took his hand, and Draco did his best not to wince as the man squeezed much harder than necessary.
"And just what are your intentions with my daughter?" Mr Granger asked gruffly, hands on his hips.
"Dad!" Hermione spluttered, covering her face with her hands.
"My intentions?" Draco gulped nervously, wondering if his feelings for Hermione were that obvious.
"Yes, I know your type."
"My type?" Draco asked dumbly, wondering how years of pureblood teachings could have abandoned him so completely. His father would have no doubt disowned him if he knew a muggle was talking to him in such a way, but this wasn't just any muggle, it was Granger's dad and that thought alone nearly had him hyperventilating.
"Dad, he's just here to do research. For school," Hermione emphasised when her father's frown deepened.
"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?" Draco shrunk slightly as Hermione's Dad looked right down his nose at him.
"It's what they've always called it." Hermione snapped back, her cheeks several shades redder.
"Well, I don't like it. I think -"
"So, you'll be staying for tea then?" Mrs Granger asked, cutting over her husband's mumbling and grinning widely at the pair.
"Oh, mom it's alright, we've got to go to the library, then Malfoy will have to get back –"
"Nonsense, you'd like some food, wouldn't you Draco?" Draco gulped, knowing that no matter what answer he gave, it would, without doubt, be the wrong one.
"Err, sure, I mean, I don't see why not." He knew Hermione was staring daggers into the side of his head, but he chose to ignore it, focusing on the huge smile Mrs Granger was giving him and thinking how much she looked like her daughter.
"Excellent, I'll have it ready for you when you get back." Hermione nodded quickly, stepping past her parents to make a hasty exit out the front door, Draco hot on her heals, dipping his head low to avoid Mr Grangers stare.
"Staying for tea? Are you mad?" Mr Granger turned to his wife as soon as the door shut. Mrs Granger picked up some shopping bags, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she made her way towards the kitchen. "That little blonde turd has made our Hermione's life miserable, and you want to invite him round for tea?"
"Oh nonsense, Richard. Mione's much stronger than that." Mr Granger followed his wife as she dropped off the bags in the kitchen and then made her way to the front room. She stood at the window, arms crossed, watching the progress of their daughter and boy that had bullied her for years. "Look at them."
Richard did, gritting his teeth as Hermione turned to the blonde boy and grinned broadly, her head tipping back slightly as she laughed. He couldn't wrap his head around it, every time she had mentioned his name it had been with hatred and venom. Now though it seemed as though she had been talking about a different person entirely.
"I don't like it," He stated moodily, hunching his shoulders, his scowl growing as his wife laughed at him. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"He seems like a sweet boy,"
"Hmm, you think everyone is sweet," Richard grumbled.
"It's a good job really, don't you think?" Richard sighed, placing his hand over his wife's and tapping it affectionately.
"I was never mean to you." He stated, not really believing it himself. In his younger years, he had shown affection in the way most other boys did, by teasing incessantly. For most of their childhood, he had been the bane of his wife's existence.
"You used to pull my hair and call me fatty, I think that counts as mean." Richard laughed slightly at his wife's pout, before turning to his daughter. The pair of them had nearly reached the end of the road where they would turn out of sight.
"Only because I wanted your attention."
"What makes you think that young man is any different?"
"Tea? Are you mad? We are going to have to sit with my parents and talk. Oh my god, kill me now," Hermione whined as soon as the door closed behind them.
"I panicked, okay. Your mom put me on the spot. Besides," Draco shrugged slightly, feigning calm, "how bad could it be?"
"How bad could it be? Are you serious? With my mom and my dad, it'll be like the Spanish Inquisition all over again."
"Spanish Inquisition?" Draco asked, confused.
"Lots of questions, torture – bad, it will be very bad." Draco chuckled at how riled up Hermione was getting.
"It can't be any worse than having meals with Pansy," Draco muttered, shivering slightly as he remembered his own run ins with the nosy Slytherin.
"Oh really, how?" Hermione asked wondering what being with his friends was actually like. She imagined that they were just nasty people, but then she realised she'd thought that about Draco and that wasn't wholly true.
"Oh, she'll crack you open, and have you snotting into your robes faster than you can say Veritaserum." He felt the swell of joy in his chest when Hermione laughed, her eyes glimmering with amusement as she turned to look at him.
"Sounds like fun."
"Like being bashed repeatedly over the head with a Quaffle, kind of fun." Hermione stared down at her feet, her mind reeling at the absurdity of their situation.
"I can't believe you kissed my mom's hand."
'What, it's simple etiquette. I had to do something, you were doing a spectacularly mediocre job of 'umm'" Draco mocked, and Hermione hit him.
"I didn't know how to introduce you."
"My name would have been a start, Granger."
"Oh sush, I wasn't the one repeating question's dumbly."
"Ouch," Draco muttered, holding his chest dramatically, "that's a low blow, Granger. I'm out of my element here."
"And yet you still manage to be just as annoying."
"Well, I'm nothing if not consistent."
"Infuriatingly consistent," Hermione agreed, biting back laughter as Draco paused, staring at a parked car with obvious confusion.
"Granger, what is that?"
"That is a car."
"Car, hmm," Draco enunciated the word slowly, "What does it do?" Draco peered into the window, tapping the glass.
"Er you drive them, they help get you places faster."
"Drive them? What the fuck is drive them?" Draco muttered, examining the silver handle on the door.
"Like brooms, you know how you fly them?"
"This flies?"
"No, but, they serve the same purpose. Er, I wouldn't -" Hermione winced as Draco pulled the handle, and the alarm started blaring. Draco stumbled back comically, pulling Hermione in front of him, holding her there between him and the screaming metal beast. Hermione sighed.
"What did I say about overreacting?"
"Overreacting? Tell that thing, I barely touched it." Draco gestured to the car, it's lights still flashing and alarm still wailing.
"Come on," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head, "And don't touch anything else."