[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 5 : I think we need to leave
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 7|
Background: Font color:
Hermione woke early the next day, for she had to go back to work. She had tried to keep her work schedule as close to normal as possible, but she had to admit that she had taken off a few more days than she normally would have; even with being in the hospital.
She got up and took her clothes with her to the shower. She turned the water on as hot as it would go, and waited until the mirror on the wall had started to fog up before stepping in. The hot water pelted her back, relaxing her tense muscles. When the water turned started to turn cold, she got out, quickly toweled off, and got dressed. By the time she was ready to go, she was 10 minutes late. After stuffing her wand in her purse, she apperated to the lobby of the Daily Prophet.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Hermione to the receptionist sitting behind the desk.
“It’s fine, the boss wants to see you in about five minutes though,” said Sandy, with a smile.
“Alright, thanks,” said Hermione, hurrying off to catch the elevator that had just stopped to let someone off.
Hermione had just enough time to run to her office and drop off her purse. She unlocked her door, and walked in to her small office. It wasn’t decorated with much, mostly because there was no room for anything. It was painted a sage color, and she was lucky enough to have a window, on which the beige curtains were drawn back to let in light.
Hermione glanced quickly at the desk, and saw a letter on her desk.
I know we haven’t been friends in the past, but I would hope that that can be change. Please accept my invitation to dinner tonight at 6 ‘o clock. I promise you will have a good time, and I promise to be a gentleman. If you don’t accept, expect to see another letter like this soon. Please send your response by owl as soon as you possibly can.
P.S. I know you will accept because I know you think I’m dead sexy, I can see it in your eyes.
P.P.S. Wear something sexy (I prefer Red).
“Why the nerve of that self-centered, arrogant pompous ferret! How could he think that I would go on a date with him? ‘Maybe he thinks that since he saved you . . .’ How dare he tell me what to wear!” said Hermione exasperated, as her inner voice continued to argue with her. She threw the letter down, and in the process, glanced at the small clock in her desk. Her eyes went wide as she realized that she only had a minute and a half to get to Mr. Brinkley’s office which happened to be up one floor, and down the opposite hall.
Hermione ran out her office - her door automatically locking when it closed – and upon deciding that it would be faster to take the stairs than to wait for the elevator, ran to the stairs, going up them two at a time. She ran down the hall thinking two different things, “Why does his office have to be at the other end of the hall, and why aren’t we allowed to apperate inside the building, other than from the lobby to our offices?” She got up the stairs and turned, running as fast as she could, down the hall, “Why does his office have to be at the end of the hall?” Hermione thought in frustration.
On her way down the hall, she passed many people in their offices. Some of the looked to be doing nothing; those few smiled and waved. However, others were too busy to even notice the girl-who-had-missed-way-to-many-days-of-work.
Hermione looked at her watch as she came to a halt, and saw that she has 27 seconds to spare. She leaned against the wall right next to the door to catch her breath. The door that’s name plate said “J. Brinkley, Owner” opened just mere seconds before Hermione started to knock, causing her to jump.
Mr. Brinkley stood at 6’1”, and was dressed in the way that any business man should; a suit and tie. While Hermione was staring at his tie that different things one it (bobby pins, a wand, a spool of thread, ect.), he spoke.
“Hermione, there you are! I need you to do me a favor,” he said.
“What kind of favor, Mr. Brinkley?” asked Hermione, who had learned to be careful of what she committed to, especially around Mr. Brinkley.
“I’m looking for some file space, so I need you to go through all the old files, and by old, I mean really old, and get rid of old pointless and junk stories about thinks such as cauldron sizes and exploding toilets. If you could do that for me today, that would be great,” he said with a smile.
“Okay Mr. Brinkley, I’ll get right on that,” said Hermione, trying to fake enthusiasm.
“And how many times do I have to tell you, its Jonathan, not Mr. Brinkley,” he said with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Alright, alright, Jonathan, I’ll get right on that,” said Hermione, emphasizing his name.
“See you later, then,” he said.
“Bye,” said Hermione
She turned and walked down the hall, down the stairs, and into the filing room. It was very large, about half the size of the great hall at Hogwarts. The walls were line with file cabinets that went up to the ceiling, and there were many isles made of file cabinets in the center of the room.
Hermione knew that everyone thought that all the writers at the Daily Prophet had very large offices. They were wrong, however; yes the building was large – it looked enormous from the outside, and was bigger than any other buildings – but the file room took up most of the space, not to mention all the offices used to store more files that couldn’t fit!
Hermione made her way to some of the more ancient cabinets. She grabbed a chair to sit on, opened a cabinet and settled down for a long day, with only the file that were decades old to occupy her mind that had forgotten the letter from a not-so-secret admirer that was sitting on her desk.
At 12:30, Hermione finally decided that she needed a break, so, after finishing the drawer she was working on, she stood up to take her lunch break. The left the file room to get her purse out of her office. She opened her office door and walked over to her desk. She had to hold in a scream as she saw a tall, blonde (a/n hot, sexy, fine…ect) sitting in her chair.
“What are you smirking at Malfoy?” demanded Hermione clutching her chest.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, answering her question with another.
“Why are you here?” asked Hermione tapping her foot.
“I came here for your response,” said Draco, in a soft tone Hermione had never heard him use before, especially when talking to her.
“Response? Oh, you mean the letter,” she paused for a moment, “I’m sorry, its… I –“
Don’t tell me you can’t, I know better,” said Draco, cutting her off, “Hermione, I know truthfully you want to come, I can see it in your eyes. For once in your life, listen to your heart, not your head.”
“Draco, I-“ Hermione started.
“See, you called me Draco.”
“So, It proves that you really want to come. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks, follow your heart. I’m sure that your friends want you to be happy,” said Draco, in that same soft tone.
‘How did he know I was thinking of Harry?” “It’s not that, it’s- “ Hermione started before she was cut off again.
“Alright then, I’ll pick you up at 5:45, “said Draco, pulling her into a brief one armed hug that, even being one-armed, cause tingles to run up and down Hermione’s spine. Draco walked out the door before Hermione could respond or protest to any of it.
At 3;30, Hermione sent Ginny an owl telling her to meet her at Hermione’s apartment (Hermione had moved back in before the party, but came back to help Ginny get ready, then was forced to stay there for a little longer after the “accident”) at four. She also asked to borrow a red dress, and slightly hinted about a date. Hermione could only imagine Ginny’s reaction.
At 4:00, Hermione returned to her office from the file room, grabbed her things, apperated to the lobby, clocked out, and apperated home. Upon arrival, she found Ginny already sitting on the couch in her living room (well, living space, it was, after all, only an apartment) with a pile of red dresses.
“Ginny, I said one, not your whole collection,” said Hermione jokingly.
“This isn’t even half,” said Ginny with a laugh, “and besides, we need to see which one looks best on you for your date. By the way, who is it that you’re going with?”
“Well, when I got to my office, I found a letter,” said Hermione, pulling the letter out of her pocket and handing it to her. Ginny snatched in out of her hand and began reading immediately. Her eyes grew wide as she read the name at the bottom, but all she said was, “ Well then, lets get started.”
About 30 minutes, and six red dressed later, Hermione had on the one she wanted. It was about knee length, and hand straps that tied together behind her neck. The back was low, going about half-way down her back, showing the flawless skin. The entire dress softly glittered when Hermione moved. It fit her like a glove, accenting all her curves perfectly. The neck was a slight v, showing a small amount of cleavage; Hermione didn’t want to show too much and give him any ideas.
“Hermione, that looks perfect on you!” exclaimed Ginny, when Hermione stepped out of the bathroom so she could see.
“This is definitely the one,” said Hermione in agreement.
“Now, go take a shower, then we’ll work on your hair,” said Ginny excitedly.
An hour and ten minutes later, Hermione was ready. Ginny and Hermione and finally decided on an elegant French bun with a few tendrils of softly curled hair left hanging down to frame Hermione’s face. I light coat of make-up and some pink lip-gloss was all that was on her face.
Strappy red high-heeled shoes were on Hermione’s feet. Hermione just happened to have a pair of peep-toe pumps that were the exact same color red as her dress. Hermione wore a small gold locket that was once her grandmothers around her neck. It was given to her by her mother when she graduated Hogwarts. She always wore the locket so she could remember her grandmother. The only other jewelry she was a pair of gold hoop earrings, and an anklet, which completed the look.
“Only one last thing to do,” said Ginny, grabbing Hermione’s hand. They went downstairs to the living room to wait. Ginny conjured a bottle of perfume, which Hermione took and squirted. It smelled like jasmines, with a slight hint of vanilla.
The door bell rang. Ginny quickly wished Hermione good luck before apperating.
Draco stood in his bathroom looking at his reflection one last time. All he had been able to think about for the past week was Hermione. Everywhere he went she seemed to be there. FHe had fantasized about being with her – taking her out to eat, dancing, getting to know her – and it was finally going to happen. He made sure every hair was in place, then apperated to Hermione’s front door. He found the little button called a “doorbell” and pushed it.
Hermione opened the door and was speechless. Draco stood there dressed in black slacks, and a matching jacket. Under the jacket was a black dress shirt with white buttons. He wore no tie. Draco’s hair was laying down naturally, with no gel in it, and Hermione thought it was a great change, and couldn’t stop herself from thinking that he looked incredibly sexy.
Draco opened his mouth, not once, but twice, not being able to say anything. Her captivating beauty had rendered him speechless as well. He opened his mouth for a third time, still not managing to say anything. This was defiantly not the girl he remembered from Hogwarts.
Hermione finally found her voice, and said with a smirk, “Are you going to stand there all night, mouth agape, or are we going out?”
Her voice must have snapped him back to reality because he took her hand and apperated to Diagon Alley.
“It’s right up here,” said Draco, pointing to a rather large building. There were many people standing outside, wanting to go in and waiting as patiently as they could. Draco and Hermione walked in the directions of the mine, Hermione made to stand in the long line of people, but Draco too her hand and led her to the entrance.
“Do you have a reservation?” asked a man with a very strong French accent. He was dressed in a black jacket – similar to Draco’s, but a little less expensive – with matching pants that went down to his black dress shoes that were in slight need of a shine. He wore a white dress shirt with a red bow-tie around his neck.
“Yes, under Malfoy.”
“Table for two?” Draco nodded, “follow me”
The man led them through a small entryway and into the main part of the building. Hermione gasp as what she saw. In the center of the large room was a dance floor with many circular tables surrounding it. Above was a glittering disco ball that shined light at everyone and everything.
They were led to a small table with only two chairs at the far corner of the room. The round table was covered with a white table cloth. Napkins of the same material were folded to stand up on the silver rimmed, glass plates.
In the center of the table was a candle next to a small arrangement of red, pink, and white roses. Glittering glass goblets were already on the table with water and a few cubes of ice in them. Light from the disco ball bounces off the silver ring on the goblets making them shine.
After Draco pulled Hermione’s chair out, and sat down himself, the man said, “A waiter should be here in a few minutes to take your orders.”
The two looked around in awe after the man left, staring at both the different and unique decorations that were elegantly placed, or the people, some dancing, others eating. Hermione turned and looked at Draco as a small noise like a growl omitted from his throat.
Draco had spotted a man dressed in the same outfit that the man that had seated them was in. This man’s hair, however, clashed horribly with his red hair. Draco turned to Hermione as she said, “ I think we need to leave,” when she realized why she was acting so strange.
A/n Well so sorry for the long wait. Who do you think this person could be? leave me a review! Oh, and a big thanks to HERDRA for reviewing every chapter!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories