Thank you everyone for reading on, I know the prologue was a bit short but this one is better! Enjoy, and please give reviews! It makes us writers feel good :P
He had a son. He had married and had a child! Had he married for love, or had that bastard of a father forced him into it? Hermione’s mind was in turmoil as she sat at the kitchen table drinking firewhiskey to try and numb the feelings of pain and shock. She knew she was being unreasonable. She herself had a daughter whom she loved dearly. But she had to find out the truth. Hedwig screeched and flew out of the window as she stood up abruptly. Harry’s letter lay unopened on the table and Hermione glanced at it, then dismissed it. She’d open it later.
Rose was in her room, so Hermione was extra-careful not to make a sound as she crept pass. She went into her bedroom and looked with distaste at the double bed. Crossing to Ron’s side, she felt under the pillow and received a small moment of satisfaction as she felt the cold metal shape of a key under her fingers. Honestly, Ron was not the most imaginative when it came to hiding places. Hermione wasn’t even sure why Ron locked his study in the first place, but even though she’d known where the key was for years, she had always respected his privacy. She was in a desperate situation, though, and felt only a faint stab of guilt as she slid the key into the pocket of her jeans.
Standing outside the large, mahogany door she felt slightly anxious. What had Ron wanted to keep so private? She worried that she was about to discover some sort of dreadful secret, and from her experience most secrets were best left undiscovered. But, drawing on her Gryffindor bravery, Hermione fitted the key into the lock and twisted it sharply to the right. As the heavy door swung open, fresh sunlight blinded Hermione’s eyes as she took in the room before her. It was certainly spacious. Indeed, she’d never known such a large room had existed in their small house. It must have been an undetectable extension charm, although she had thought this would have been a bit taxing on Ron’s limited magical ability. The room was decorated uncommonly stylishly as well, which was odd considering Ron’s lack of taste. Puzzled, she hurried over to the desk. This at least seemed a bit more like Ron- it was a total tip. How would she find anything useful among all this rubbish? She brushed aside toffee wrappers to pick up the first leaflet that she saw.
DR. DROFFEY’S DENTAL DRAGONS! Get these expertly trained dragons to look over your teeth, magically straightening and giving them a white shine like no other! Virually Painless!
Attract all the witches with your gleaming gnashers for only 35 galleons!
Hermione snorted and started rummaging through the rest of the papers. They were mostly work documents, but with a few stranger things similar to Dr. Droffey’s thrown in. A large golden book resting on a shelf to the right caught Hermione’s eye and she scanned the title; 12 Failsafe Ways to Charm Witches. Who’d have thought it? At least he made an effort.
Eventually, after a lot of searching, Hermione came across what she was looking for; a survey of all the witches and wizards working at the Ministry of Magic. Scanning down the names she came to ‘M.’ There was Madding, Maddentson, Maeve, Mafty, Maldive, Malfat, and finally the one she was looking for. Malfoy. The address was printed below. Hurriedly memorising it, she put everything back the way she’d found it and left the study, locking the door behind her. Entering her room again, she saw that Ron was already back and his discarded work robes and trousers lay on the floor. She heard the sounds of a shower going from the bathroom. The shower stopped. Swearing under her breath, Hermione sprinted to the bed and was just withdrawing her hand from under the pillow as Ron emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Ron! I didn’t hear you come home, sorry.”
Ron stretched and yawned, “Doesn’t matter. What’ve you got cooking for dinner, then? Smells delicious.”
Hermione smiled inwardly-typical Ron mode. It was what he greeted her with every day.
“There’s a roast beef in the oven, muggle chips and asparagus that I know you like,” counted Hermione. Ron dropped the towel from around his waist and succeeded to rummage in the wardrobe for clothes. His muffled voice came from inside a draw,
“Put some candles out too, would you? It seems like ages since we had a romantic dinner together.” Hermione thought that his enthusiasm sounded forced, and wondered whether she should save them all the effort and just tell him it wasn’t the right night. But she dispelled the thought and reluctantly agreed, although she didn’t think she could cope with Ron’s attempts at romance with the news about Scorpius Malfoy so fresh in her mind. She checked her watch. It was nearly 9:30, past Rose’s bedtime. Leaving her husband to fend for himsself, she went to knock softly on Rose’s door. There was no answer, but she slid into the room anyway. Rose was snuggled up in bed, deeply absorbed in a novel. Hermione crossed over to the bed and kissed Rose on the forehead.
“What are you reading now?” she asked.
Rose looked up, startled, from her book,
“Oh, hi mum! Didn’t see you there. It’s one of those muggle fairytale books. They have a really strange view about witches and wizards, don’t they!”
“Very strange,” agreed Hermione, nodding, “and that’s why it would be so bad for witches and wizards to reveal themselves to the muggles. After millennia of reading stories like Hansel and Gretel, they wouldn’t take kindly to us at all.”
“But what if we were to subtly slide the idea into their heads that we had existed side by side with them since…forever, and that we meant them no harm? It seems stupid to have to hide away and have all these strict laws just so the muggles don’t freak out.”
Hermione frowned, “I don’t know…but what you’re questioning is a very serious political debate. It’s a tad too late just now. Dad and I are going to have dinner but don’t be too late reading, ok?”
“Ok, goodnight,” Rose replied, but she looked distracted.
“Love you,” whispered Hermione as she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Hermione quietly set out the long, purple candles in the dining room and lit them by hand. She didn’t know why she’d got out these ones that burnt with a blue flame, but for some reason it just seemed to fit. And they reminded her of something. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Ron came down in jeans and a pink shirt that clashed horribly with his fiery hair. Hermione brushed down her own clothes; faded jeans and a t-shirt with a pink cardigan for warmth. She sighed with regrets. If her life had worked out the way she’d wanted it to be a lot of things, including her style, would have been drastically different. She supposed that was just the way of the fates, even though she hadn’t believed in fate or destiny before, a lot of things had happened to make her change her mind.
They sat down and Hermione served out the beef.
“Help yourself to chips and asparagus,” she told Ron, who eagerly agreed, heaping his plate high. Hermione took a minimum of everything; she didn’t feel hungry tonight. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell as they ate-Hermione delicately and Ron as if there was no tomorrow. The mood seemed different tonight, uneasy. Hermione stared into the flickering blue flame, trying to suppress the lump in her throat and the memories that were trickling back into her mind. The flame blew towards her softly and smoke got in her eyes but she didn’t move to rub them. She had been transported backthirteenyears.
A much younger Hermione was lying on the floor of a small but cosy room. She was dressed in her Hogwarts robes with her bushy hair twisted into a French Pleat, busily chipping away at a long essay, most of which trailed along the carpet. Her brow was furrowed as she frantically leafed through a book, looking for more information. There was a large, squashy sofa crammed against the far wall and a blonde-haired boy lounged elegantly on it, watching Hermione with vague interest.
“Granger,” the boy spoke. Hermione shuffled a few pages of her book and barely responded,
“Mhm?”
“Do you ever stop working?” he smirked.
“What?” Hermione was distractedly writing something but now she stopped and put down her quill, looking up.
“I said, DO YOU EVER STOP WORKING?”
“Ok, no need to burst my eardrums Malfoy!”
“Well, you weren’t listening to me so I felt it quite within my rights to make you listen, considering that I’m holed away here with a quill for company instead of a human,” Malfoy retorted.
“Do you need me to remind you that it was you who dragged me here in the first place so you could hide from your evil daddy?” Hermione snorted angrily, “And I might as well get some work done instead of wasting four hours.” Malfoy simply looked bored and sighed,
“I can think of plenty of things we could do to waste four hours,” he added with a wink. Hermione blushed and scowled at him,
“Shut up Malfoy,” she glared before promptly turning her back on him and pointedly scratching out a sentence.
“Come on Granger, be a bit kinder to a poor suffering man like me,” he implored mockingly, “Just a teensy bit of fun? And then you can study for as long as you like!”
“A suffering man?” she chuckled derisively, “And I’m the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.”
“If you knew the half of it,” Malfoy muttered darkly, all traces of humour gone. Alert now, Hermione folded up the parchment and turned to face him, crossing her legs.
“Try me. Seriously, Draco, what is going on at the moment? Ever since we started…getting along,” they both looked awkwardly at the floor or the ceiling, “You haven’t properly explained anything. Why are you so scared of your father? We all thought you loved him, what with all your ‘wait till my father hears of this’ lines. Classic Draco Malfoy personality.”
Draco snorted, “You really have no idea, do you Granger. They say you’re clever!”
“Tell me, then. I want to help!” Draco just shook his head tiredly.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he demanded. Hermione knew when she was fighting a losing battle and shrugged nonchalantly. Draco yawned dismissively and stretched out on the sofa.
“I’m hungry,” he grumbled.
“Deal with it!” snapped Hermione.
“I will,” he replied, “Dobby!” he yelled, and the house elf apparated into the room, his tower of knitted caps swaying dangerously on his knobbly head. Hermione frowned in disbelief,
“I thought you were free now, Dobby? Why are you obeying Malfoy?”
“Master Malfoy was a good master to Dobby, miss,” squeaked the house elf, “He was not like his father who is a very bad man. He protected Dobby, and Dobby is forever loyal!” the elf beamed.
“Oh!” Hermione looked at Malfoy, mildly impressed. Hef smirked at her and tapped his nose,
“Right Dobby, can you bring us up whatever spare food you have down in the kitchens?”
“Please,” added Hermione, whacking Draco on the arm.
“Yes master Malfoy sir, Dobby will go right away,” and the elf vanished. Malfoy surveyed the room, wrinkling up his nose.
“Hmm, not a very appealing place for dinner is it?” he walked around and prodded the wonky wooden chair in the corner, “Huh! Broken! No, we can do much better than this. Let’s have an antique mahogany table, not too big, not too small, with two matching chairs. Italian silk cushions as well. Then we’ll need cutlery and plates etcetera.” With a soft whooshing noise the required objects appeared. Malfoy once more prowled around the newly added table, poking the cushions to check if they were plump enough.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Malfoy! Stop with the poking!” snapped Hermione again.
“Something’s missing,” he muttered, “Ah, yes,” and with a wave of his wand two vibrant purple candles positioned themselves opposite each other on the table. He lit them and a flickering blue flame sprang up. Hermione just snorted, trying to hide how impressed she was, as Malfoy took a bow. At that moment Dobby reappeared clutching a mountain of chocolate éclairs, thick slices of ham and raw carrots. Malfoy frowned at this unexpected selection of food, but just dumped them on the table and thanked Dobby. Dobby bowed several times to Malfoy and then Hermione before disapparating back to the kitchens. Hermione sat down at the table, beckoning to Draco, who also sat, helping himself to chocolate éclairs.
“You should probably have the ham first, you know,” suggested Hermione.
“That is what boring people do.”
“Are you calling me boring?” glared Hermione
“No, I just loved watching your reaction to that.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And that’s what you love about me,” Malfoy replied with a charming smile, “Come on, Granger, just eat an éclair. You know you want to.”
Hermione sniffed and promptly started eating her ham.
“Ok, then, let’s play a game. We ask each other questions and if you don’t want to answer you have to eat an éclair.” Hermione shot him a puzzled look before shrugging and nodding in agreement,
“Ok, but I’m starting. Draco Abraxas Malfoy, why are you so scared of your father?” asked Hermione. Draco ate two éclairs.
“Hermione Jean Granger, what do you do for fun?”
“I read and…I…knit house elf clothes and chat with Harry and Ron.”
“You knit!” Malfoy snorted with laughter, earning him a whack on the head from Hermione’s knapkin.
“Nothing we say must be repeated, ok?” she half-begged, half-laughd.
“Ok-“ Malfoy broke off as he heard a noise from outside. His face grew even paler than usual and he extinguished the candles quickly.
“What is it?” hissed Hermione peering through the semi-darkness, “What’s that smell?”
“Shut up,” begged Malfoy, the terror evident in his voice, then he spoke to the room, “Don’t let anyone in!”
Hermione was brought back to the present day by Ron’s concerned voice asking her if she was ok. She shook her head, trying to clear it from the shockingly vivid memory that she had forgotten about. A tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away before looking up at Ron’s puzzled face. His plate was empty, and hers was barely touched. She shook her head at him as he leaned across the table to kiss her,
“I’m tired, Ron. I’m going to bed,” and she started to stand, “Can you clear up for once?”
Ron looked outraged and was starting to protest, but Hermione was already gone.
A/N Heehee I loved writing that chapter! First lot of Dramione contact :) So please leave a review!!! I'm desparato to improve :D
PS I would just like to bring attention to the memorial day of 9/11. So many people's lives were ruined, including people I know. So please just take a moment to reflect. Sorry if I sound like a priest. (no offence to priests, they are very nice people)
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