Chapter 14 : Thank God for Coffee
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 56|
Background: Font color:
Sometimes, you fail to miss things that are right under your nose. Really, it’s like when sometimes you’re looking for your pencil, and you look everywhere. Every corner in the house, and then your sit down, tired with a brand new pencil from the supply closet, and you realize that the pencil is actually in your hand. Then you feel stupid, and you swear multiple times, and scream a little. It’s not really a big deal, misplacing a pencil that is, but when you miss something under your nose that means way more than a wooden stick with a carbon lead piece inside, you feel incredibly stupid. Insanely stupid.
Especially if that something, is really a someone.
It really does suck, if you are a girl, and that person is of the male species.
This is exactly what Hermione felt. She had been stupid, for not falling in Draco’s arms that first morning when they had found each other in the company of the other, after getting married just last night. Hermione pulled the purple plastic ring out of her pocket, the one she carried with her always.
Now she was insanely bored, she had the phone handy with her, just incase Draco needed her help for anything, but he hadn’t even called a single time. He had let her leave as soon as he woke out of his drugged state. His exact words were, “You can leave if you want, you don’t owe me anything. I also left the divorce papers you sent to me on the floor in the den. They’re signed, you can send them out.”
Hermione had left, taking a second glance back at him. She was sad to find his back turned to her, as he bent over, inspecting his leg.
Hermione sat on her black futon playing wizard’s chess with herself. Her chess set was old and dilapidated, and it wasn’t even hers, it was Ron’s. He had let her borrow it, and she hadn’t gone around giving it back yet. She whipped up some hot chocolate with her wand and sat drinking while listening to ‘the Smeagle Sisters’ on her portable wizard radio. It wasn’t really portable, since it was the size of her dad’s ancient record player, but whatever. It’s not like she would take it out in public anyways.
Draco sat in his room; his hand was itching for his wand, which he kept hidden in the pillowcase of the pillow he never used on his bed. Looking around, seeing no one coming around (he saw no one) he pulled his wand out. He looked at it’s beautiful redcedar handle, and stroked its tip gently. But no matter how much pain he was in, he couldn’t use it, it would cause much more pain with magic. He would never forget the emotional pain he had gone through after that horrible day that brought pain to him just thinking about it.
Noel was still at school, Blaise had taken her. Tonight she would come home, and they’d sit and watch Arthur for as long as she liked.
Even though she only watched Arthur when he wasn’t in the room, since she thought it was a boy show, and if she watched it, she wouldn’t be a fairy anymore.
He rubbed his leg, and swore at himself for getting a tattoo back at Hogwarts. It was a game of truth or dare, and Blaise had dared him to let one of the Slytherin’s give him a tattoo. And he had let them.
What an idiot. Now he didn’t even know what to say when his daughter came to him asked him if she could get a Princess Jasmine tattoo on her forehead. When he would say no, she’d be like, why, you have a snake?
That girl was smart for being an almost seven-year old.
He felt stupid too, just like Hermione. But for a different reason. He felt stupid for treating her like trash, while she was everything but. He had to admit, he hadn’t liked her at the beginning, but now she just felt like his sidekick. She was an exquisite piece of a person, her beautiful hair (even thought it had blonde highlights now and was more straight than curly), and her giant Caramilk eyes. At first when you saw them, they look dark brown, but if your looked closer, they were a light brown, like caramel, deep and creamy.
And just like a bar of Caramilk, you don’t really want to eat it, because it would be finished before you started. You would just leave it there, until one day, you’re daughter ate it in one bite.
He mentally slapped himself, he had to stop thinking about her, and she was with someone else, obviously. He looked at his BlackJack, just sitting on his bedside table. He could say something to her, apologize for his obnoxious behavior, and then make up.
He lay down back on the bed, and let sleep overtake him as the medicine ran through his arteries to his every cell.
Hermione sealed the envelope, the one with the divorce papers inside, and put it on the coffee table, she’d mail it later.
But that reminded her of Draco. Poor little Draco, sitting in his room, in pain. She felt like crying slightly, thinking about what had led to his accident. Blaise had said that Draco never took his bike out for just any occasion. He only took it out when he was stressed, like how some people smoked. They smoked when they were stressed, and Draco rode his bike. But, what if something had happened, then, she would have his death on her conscience for the rest of her life, because she had fought with him before he had ran off to Pumpkin Patch land.
She picked up her keys and almost ran up the steps to his room. Even though she knew that girls were not supposed to chase men. The men were the ones who were supposed to do the chasing. But, she supposed it was okay in this case since he could barely move his leg.
She knocked on the door. She heard shuffling behind the door for several minutes. He yelled, “Coming, Jesus, stop knocking, I heard you.”
He opened the door wearing his bath robe and a long black cane in his hand. It was his father’s, Hermione realized immediately, by the snake head at the handle of the cane.
Hermione smiled weakly, she wasn’t her confident self anymore. She felt so small in his presence, unlike before. Before, she could talk witty remarks to him, like Lorelai in the Gilmore Girls. But now, she had to refrain herself from shaking him.
“Can I come in?” she asked, her eyes darting behind him, making sure he didn’t have a woman stashed behind him somewhere. “If, you’re alone, that is.”
“Of course, I’m alone, of course,” he was fidgeting slightly, since she was just standing there, soul and body in front of him, and he had just had a dream of her moments ago.
He led her in to the kitchen, where she met a table full of paperwork and coloring books, and pencils and crap like that. She didn’t know where she was supposed to sit down, so she just sat on top of the counter.
“Is there anything wrong?” he asked her, giving her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, actually, there is something wrong,” she said, with a tiny smile. “I was just wondering, Blaise told me that you never go off alone on your bike and I wanted to know, if you went out that night because of our tiny quarrel.
“Cus, I would fully never forgive myself if something happened to you. I mean, you’re a single parent and all, and I mean…who would take care of your daughter? And I really need to get this cleared up.”
He looked deep into her Caramilk eyes, searching for anything that would explain the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach while she sat on his countertop, wearing froggy pajama bottoms and a beater.
“You’re smiling?” she pouted slightly, “I’m almost crying here, and you’re smiling.”
“I find it funny, that you actually plucked up the courage to come up here after everything that happened and you’re worried about whether or not you’d be to blame if I died last night,” he said, smugly, with a slight smirk she hadn’t seen for ages. It made her feel that the ice had been broken between them, all the anger gone.
“It is kind of stupid, I guess,” she said, with a confused look. “where’s the fairy?”
“At school,” he said, leaning against the stove. “Hey, look, your hickey’s almost gone.”
Her eyes narrowed in anger and annoyance, “I knew it was too good to be true, you being nice for once.”
“Hey, I’m always nice. And I believe that we were in the middle of something before I got sleepy and hit the hay.”
“I don’t remember,” she said, reluctantly.
“Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” her heart skipped at sweetheart, “let me refresh your memory. We were sitting in my room on the bed, and I leaned over, and asked you if you liked me.”
“Oh, that,” she said. “Um… Of course I like you, I mean, you’re ALMOST always super nice, who wouldn’t like you? Except for Harry or someone.”
“You’re not answering the type of way I want you to answer me,” he warned. He trudged over towards her, his cane hitting the floor with every step.
He stood between her knees as she sat on the counter top and traced her jaw line. “I know you know that I know that you like me. So why the secrecy?”
He could feel her breath, hot and heavy on his face. He took her face in his hand (one was still gripping his snake-head-cane), and brought his lips to hers ever so gently.
Hermione had read somewhere that when a man kisses you like this, your knees would buckle. You’d feel numb, and weak, and not able to think clearly.
But Hermione felt the total opposite of this. She was electrified, every cell in her body was wide awake and was throbbing, and she felt alive and all she could think of was how good it felt.
His lips moved against hers ever so gently, he savored the feel of her mouth, something he had wanted to for so long. The kiss was so slow and so calm, Hermione and Draco felt like they were listening to some Lion-King style music in Hawaii. Then they couldn’t even breathe properly, and had to part, he put his forehead against hers.
“Now, tell me why we haven’t done that before?” he muttered, his breath raspy and coffee-ish.
“Hmm, we were too busy kissing other people remember?” she said, smiling shyly, her face was flushed with excitement.
“Ah. Stupid other people, why won’t they all just disappear?” he said pulling her off from the counter with his hand.
“Um,” she said, suddenly shy in his presence. “Can I have some water?”
“Hold on,” he gave her a glass of water and took some for himself too.
He felt so energized, that if his leg wasn’t so freaking messed he would have loved a swim, and he’d make sure that the other brunettes stayed away from him, if it meant Hermione trusting him and kissing him the way she did just now. Because kissing her just felt so goood.
Hermione observed as Draco’s robe clung to his slim taut figure as he bent down to through the bottle in the garbage. When he turned around, he had a smug look on his face. “You were checking me out, weren’t you?”
“Of course not,” Hermione said indignantly.
“How low do you steep, woman, ogling the poor old limp man,” he said.
“Puh-lease, get a grip on yourself,” she said haughtily, “there’s nothing there to check out.”
“You must have looked to notice that feature, though,” he said equally.
“I give up,” she surrendered, “it’s pointless arguing with you.”
“I’d love to continue, or start where we left off a mere minutes ago, but I think Noel’s going to be home any minute now, and I don’t want her too come home to finding me ‘stuck to Hermione’.”
She nodded and picked at little pieces of lint on her pajamas. “I should go.” She said.
“No, don’t leave, you could stay for the night, help us out a little, if you want,” he said, thinking of any reason to make her stay with him.
“I don’t have my clothes,” she said.
“You won’t need them,” he said with a wink, and then to Hermione’s rounded horror-filled eyes he said, “JOKE! Take a joke, Hermione.”
the end, for now, obviously.
also, thanks for the awesome reviews!! if you have a question i usually reply in the reviews, so pop in to see an answer if you asked one!!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
by Witch liv...
by Red Moon