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Contours by GryffindorGirl153

Format: Novel
Chapters: 27
Word Count: 161,660
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature

Genres: Drama, Romance
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Ginny, Blaise (M), OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Other Pairing

First Published: 01/11/2009
Last Chapter: 09/08/2011
Last Updated: 09/08/2011

Summary:
amazing banner by .maledefoi at Sound of Silence.
CURRENTLY UNDERGOING REVISIONS (7/27)



Hermione glanced at him, then back to the reporter. “Yes.” She finally said. “It is true.” Despite her words, she was glaring at Draco as she spoke. “I am engaged to Draco Malfoy.”


Chapter 7: Chapter Six

Contours
By: Gryffindorgirl153


A/N: edited 9.1.2011


Chapter Six


Hermione’s eyes were forced open by the ear piercing screech prying through her brain. Alarmed, she immediately shot out of bed and began scanning her surroundings. It wasn’t until when she felt her walls to vibrate with intensity when she realized that the source of the noise was Draco’s wretched television. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, and scowled when she learned that it was only eight-thirty in the morning.

“Malfoy!” she shrieked, agitated, before she shoved her head under her pillow, hoping that it would be enough to block out the incessant noises. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. “Malfoy!” Hermione called as loud as she could. The movie droned out of her voice.

She groaned and dragged herself out of bed. She stumbled out of her bedroom, down the hall and towards the living room, where her fiancé was lazily lounging on the couch with his breakfast in his lap. His eyes were fixed on the television while a black remote rested in his palm.

“Malfoy!” she repeated. “It’s eight-thirty in the bloody morning!” she shouted. When Draco ignored her, she sighed heavily and collapsed on the other end of the couch before she quickly grabbed the remote from his hand in order to turn the volume down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded angrily once he finally tore his eyes away from the television. He immediately snatched the remote back from her hands — her reflexes were not good enough to match his — and turned the volume back up.

She grimaced in his direction. “Why don’t you put a silencing charm up you selfish prat?” she asked furiously. “Try being considerate for once, Malfoy! I’m sure that there are still people in this building who are trying to get some sleep!”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He said simply. “So too bad.”

“You.” Hermione began through gritted teeth. “Are. Such. A. Child.” She tried her best to control her anger, but it was becoming more and more difficult. “Man child.” She muttered under her breath. When Draco did not show any signs of interest towards her insult, she finally let out a defeated sigh, fell back against the arm of the couch, and stretched her legs out in front of her. “Are you busy this afternoon?” Hermione asked suddenly.

Draco ignored her again. “Malfoy!” she shouted, trying to capture his attention. She kicked his sides lightly with her feet, but he continued to ignore her. Repeating her actions, she kicked him harder.

Finally fed up with her pestering, Draco snarled and pressed his large hand against her ankles, keeping them in a tight hold. “What are you doing?” he snapped, lifting the remote to pause the movie. “You’re so goddamn irritating. What do you want?”

“I want my feet back.” She spat. “If the volume wasn’t so loud, maybe you would have been able to hear me.”

“What do you want?” Draco repeated, ignoring her remarks. He did not bother hiding the fact that he was severely irritated by Hermione.

“We need to go to my parents house today.” She informed him with an angry look on her face. “For both lunch and dinner. It’s about time that I fill them in on everything.”

Openly, Draco scowled with disgust. “Draco.” Hermione glared at hi. “You have to do this for me. I went through an entire night with your parents. You need to do this.”

“Your parents are muggles.” Draco countered. “They’ve got no clue about what’s going on in our world, so why tell them something they don’t need to know?” he asked.

“My parents aren’t stupid.” She replied. “My mum especially will be able to figure out if I’m bloody getting married or not, even if I try to hide it… and it would be nice to have them at my first wedding… even though it’s completely fake.”

He snorted. “What exactly do you plan on telling them once we get a divorce?” he asked. “Are you going to tell them the truth, or are you going to go with the loveless marriage bit.”

“Do you have a better reason?” she demanded. “Unless you want to intentionally cheat on your wife and have it display on every newspaper and magazine, then that’s our safest bet. Although, if you were to cheat, that would make the process a whole lot quicker and easier.” She said.

“Don’t kid yourself, Granger. I’m not going to risk my reputation just to make our divorce easier.” He scowled. “What are your parents like?” he asked suddenly, timidly. After a strange and curious look from Hermione, Draco immediately spoke. “I just sincerely hope that they’re nothing like their daughter.” Without giving Hermione a change to reply, he turned his attention back to the television and resumed the movie.

Completely agitated, she snatched the remote from his hands once more and turned the movie off.

Draco’s lips turned into a sneer and he leaned over to snatch the remote back from her hands, which became more difficult after she laid back against the couch, moving the remote out of Draco’s reach. “Give me the remote, Granger.” He growled dangerously.

Hermione shook her head stubbornly and proceeded to turn the stereo off. “Did you just turn it off?” he snapped angrily as he reached forward, consequently hovering over her, and tried to grasp the remote again.

Out of desperation, Hermione shoved Draco off her body and onto the floor, and out of impulse, Draco grabbed onto Hermione, sending her tumbling off the couch as well. Neither of them had noticed the compromising position they had fallen into — with Draco on his back, and Hermione straddling his lower region — as he continued reaching forward, trying to pry the remote from her small hands. In the midst of their tousle, Draco’s eyes traveled down her slightly exposed body, and it was then when he finally took note of their physical contact. Hermione followed his gaze, and her eyes widened with awareness.

She jumped to her feet, but the playful banter did not end there. She quickly pranced across the flat, running to the other side of the room while holding the remote tightly in her hand.

Draco, who was growing tired of Hermione’s childish antics, pushed himself off the floor and walked up to the stereo. He turned it on and cranked it louder than ever before. The movie resumed and the action started. As a result, the speakers boomed loudly, and their flat shook with tremor.

As the incessant sound rippled her brain apart, Hermione covered her ears with the palm of her hands in attempt to drown out the sound. When she realized that she, as well, had control over the stereo, she immediately pointed the remote in its direction and turned it off.

Without hesitation, Draco turned the stereo on once more and intensified the volume.

Hermione turned it off.

The stereo went through the torture of constantly turning on and off for about five minutes before Hermione finally cracked. She let out a frustrated cry, although neither of them could hear her, and stomped her foot on the ground angrily.

“Can you get any more immature?” Draco asked with a disgusted tone.

As Hermione glared daggers in his direction, Draco let out an unexpected laugh. Taken aback, she offered the perfect opportunity for a surprise attack, and Draco immediately took his chance. He ran after her, but she had collected herself faster than he anticipated. She bolted for the couch, running behind it and back around with Draco hot on her heels. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was Draco’s hands, pushing her back against the couch and grabbing the remote right out of her palm. Realizing her defeat, Hermione glared at him as her pride showed more colors than she would have liked. Not ready to let him win just yet, she wound her legs around his waist and flipped them over to the floor, resuming their initial position. This gave Hermione the chance to snatch the remote again, and she placed it high above her head with her outstretched arm, putting the remote completely out of his grasp.

“Why. Are. You. Such. A. Child?” he demanded, frustrated beyond belief. The couple had slipped in between the small space of the couch and the coffee table. “What do you want? Do you want me to turn the television off? Well too bad, Granger. This is my flat, and I should be free to do whatever the fuck I want on a Saturday afternoon. It’s my first day off in weeks, I want to enjoy it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned both the television and stereo off while her body was still straddling Draco’s. After she placed the remote on the coffee table, she turned back to him, but immediately regretted it. A strange feeling washed over her when she realized that he had been staring at her the entire time.

Uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed, Hermione cleared her throat, looking away. “Be ready to leave by three.” She told him flatly. “If I hear any noises coming from this room, I will blast your stupid speakers to oblivion.” Hermione gripped the coffee table and pushed herself off his body.

Draco, who remained flat on the floor, stared after her with anger. “This is my house!” he exclaimed.

“I live here too.” She countered, whipping around to narrow her eyes at him. “I’m your fiancé now, remember?”

-


“Malfoy, are you ready yet?” Hermione asked, entering the kitchen as she fiddled with the bow of her dress. After not receiving an answer, she lifted her gaze and found Draco still in his pj’s. “Are you kidding me?” she demanded angrily before she glanced at her wrist watch. “It’s a quarter to three! You had hours to get ready!”

While Draco was still dressed in his pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, Hermione had already slipped into a plain, emerald green dress, falling a little before her knees. She wore simple black strappy sandals, and had a long, white coat over her shoulders.

“Relax.” He said, downing a tall glass of water. His exit was unaccompanied by an explanation, leaving Hermione huffing with anger. She was more than nervous to introduce Draco to her parents, and here he was, acting as nonchalant as ever. Ten minutes later, Draco emerged from his bedroom wearing a pair of black slacks, a plain white button up shirt, and a grey blazer. “I’m not a girl, Granger. I don’t need hours beforehand to get ready.” His hair was still wet from his quick shower.

Hermione sighed and followed him into the living room. “How are we going to get there?” he asked, approaching the fireplace as if he already knew the answer. “Floo network?”

She shook her head as she rummaged through her small purse. “We’re going to drive there.” She answered.

Draco gave her an incredulous look. “You’re going to drive us to your parents house?” he asked, disbelief plain in his voice. “There’s no way that I’m going to get into a car that you’re driving.”

She scowled at him openly after she found a set of keys in her purse. “I have my license Malfoy, believe it or not. I’m perfectly capable of driving a car.”

He laughed sarcastically as they exited their flat, and making their way down the stairs. Once they were on the street, Draco looked around, searching for Hermione’s car. “Do you even have a car, Granger?” he drawled.

Hermione glared at him. Wordlessly, she scanned the vicinity, hoping that there weren’t any muggles around to see her use magic. Once she deemed it appropriate, she took her wand from her purse and muttered a simple conjuring spell. Before them, on an empty street, a sleek, silver Camaro appeared out of thin air.

“This is your car?” he asked with a laugh.

Hesitantly, Hermione nodded. “It was a gift from Harry..” she trailed off. “After graduation, I went through this driving phase,” she kept her eyes away from him as she spoke. “I drove everywhere, it was rather refreshing actually. Around that time, Harry and Ron were interested in muggle sports cars. You should see how much Harry has bought for himself, although he only uses it for special occasions.”

Before Hermione managed to step into the drivers seat, Draco stepped in front of her. “I’ll drive.” He smirked, holding out his hands for her keys.

“Malfoy, it’s my own car.” She argued as she gripped her keys tightly in her hand. “I’m perfectly capable of driving.” Draco continued holding out his hand in a wordless attempt to get the car keys. “You don’t know where my parents live.” She informed him.

“You can direct me there.” He snatched the keys from her grasp and climbed into the drivers seat. Hermione surrendered with a sigh and walked around the car, settling into the passenger’s seat.

She eyed him carefully while she adjusted her seatbelt and shifted on the seat. “Why are you suddenly so keen on driving?” she asked.

Draco turned to her with a smirk. “How do you think my pride would feel if my fiancé was the one driving the sports car, while I sit in the passenger’s seat?”

Hermione couldn’t resist. She rolled her eyes dramatically and turned her attention out the window once they began moving. “You know how to drive?” she asked suddenly, turning to him. “I’m sincerely curious, Malfoy. Why are you so attuned with muggle technology?”

He shrugged.

“Are you ashamed of telling me the truth?” Hermione pressed playfully.

“Pansy… she works with muggles sometimes. In her field of work, it’s actually really important for her to step into the muggle world from time to time in order to get more ideas. The Parkinson’s franchise has gotten so large, that it had even extended to the muggles. Once she settled into a muggle lifestyle for a few months, she introduced me to all these knew things.” Hermione listened carefully as he spoke. “I must admit, I was rather hesitant to try the things she was suggesting, but eventually, I grew to love it.”

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence as Draco drove down the street. In order to fill it, Hermione reached forward and turned the radio on, settling on the station she always listened to. She found herself humming along to the song that was playing, up until Draco rudely interrupted her and changed the station. “What are you doing?” she demanded, the minute the sound of heavy metal filled her ears. “Malfoy, this is trash!” she shouted.

Draco turned, smirking in her direction before turning the volume up. “It’s music.” He argued. In truth, Draco hated listening to junk he could not understand. But in this circumstance, he gritted his teeth and listened to it, since he found that it did a good job annoying Hermione.

Hermione leaned over and changed the station, returning to the previous station. “This is music.” She said with a frown.

Scowling, Draco turned the station back to the heavy metal music. Hermione then slapped his hands away from the controls and changed the station back. “Pay attention to the road!” she snapped. “You’ll get us both killed at the speed you’re driving.”

“I’m sorry, princess, would you prefer if I drove slower?” he asked in a mock, innocent tone.

“I actually would.” Hermione snapped.

“I hate driving slow.” He informed her before he changed the station again.

“Why do you insist on listening to everything so loud?” she snarled.

“So that the music drowns out your incessant talking.” He snapped.

Angrily, Hermione turned the music off completely.

Draco turned to her, surprised. “What was that?” he asked.

“No music.” She told him, folding her arms over her chest. “We’ll just end up fighting again.”

“We wouldn’t fight so much if you weren’t so stubborn.” He muttered under his breath.

“Turn here.” Hermione instructed blandly. “Keep going until the first dirt paved rode to your left.”

The rest of the car ride was silent, with an exception of Hermione’s constant directing. After another thirty minutes of driving, Draco finally parked in the drive way of a large, white house, with a clean-cut lawn and flowers bordering the edge. “Large house.” He remarked as they stepped out of the car.

Hermione fixed her coat around her shoulders and reached into the car to grab her purse. “Some of my younger cousins stayed with us before.” She explained. “They went to school around here, so my aunt sent them to live with us. We needed a bigger place.”

Slowly, Draco and Hermione walked to the front door, and she pressed a small, white circle. A loud bell chimed on the other side of the door. As the doorknob turned, Draco timidly wrapped an arm around Hermione’s waist before the door opened and revealed a middle-aged couple.

“Mum!” Hermione exclaimed happily, walking up to wrap her arms around the aging woman. “Dad!” she did the same to her father.

“Hermione.” The woman greeted with a large, warm smile on her face. “It’s so wonderful to see you, dear. You’ve been so busy lately, you barely have time to stop by.” She stepped aside and allowed the couple to walk into the house. Hermione shrugged off her coat and handed it to her father. “And who is this?” her mother asked, turning to Draco.

“Oh, mum, dad,” Hermione began nervously, as she apprehensively took Draco’s hand in hers. “This is.. Draco…” she trailed off, glancing at his face, trying to make sense of his expression. “Malfoy.” She finished. “Draco Malfoy.”

Politely, Draco shook both her parents’ hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger.” He greeted warmly.

Her mother glanced at their joined hands. “Are you two seeing each other?” she asked.

Hermione took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes, mum.” She let out a small smile. “We’re… we’re actually getting married.”

Mr. Granger’s face was washed of color, and Mrs. Granger let out a loud gasp. “M — married?” she voiced with disbelief.

“Er, mum.. why don’t we talk about this in the sitting room?” Hermione said nervously.

Recollecting himself, Mr. Granger let out a loud gruff and nodded in agreement. “Yes, Celia, I think we should be seated for this.”

Draco suddenly felt Hermione’s grip on his hands tighten — a sign that she was nervous beyond control. Hoping that it would settle her nerves, Draco grasped her hand tighter, and in turn, he as well felt an overwhelming sense of comfort. Regrettably, his insides did not mirror his cool, confident and collected exterior. He was just as nervous as Hermione — perhaps even more. Instinctively, Draco stepped closer to Hermione and preserved a short distance as they moved through the furniture and into the sitting room.

Draco and Hermione planted themselves on the couch, while her parents took either armchair, facing them.

“So..” Cecelia Granger began, breaking the deafening silence. “Married?”

“Right..” Hermione breathed. “Well.. yes mum, we’re —” she grasped Draco’s hand, which was sitting on his right knee. “getting married.” She finished, with a small, hopeful, yet nervous smile.

“I — I wasn’t aware that the two of you were even dating.” Cecelia commented. “What — what about your friend, Ronald?” she asked.

From beside Hermione, Draco resisted the urge to laugh loudly. Hermione, who anticipated Draco’s reaction, gave his hand a warning squeeze.

“I’ve told you two many times that Ronald and I didn’t work out.” She said. “We’re good friends now. Strictly friends.”

“I liked that Ronald.” David, Mr. Granger, commented as he turned to his wife. “Well mannered boy, he was.”

“We’re just friends.” Hermione snapped uncharacteristically. “Draco and I..” she began hesitantly. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. I know it’s all so rushed.. and I don’t expect your complete approval at this moment, but…”

Cecelia sighed heavily. “Your father and I were shocked, that’s all.” She explained. “You’ve told us many times that you weren’t planning on marrying until you’ve had your fun. And you’re only nineteen, for Christ’s sake!”

Hermione bit her lip nervously.

“It would have been nice if you had sorted your priorities before even thinking about marriage.” David added. “We know that you’re a smart girl, you always have been, and you make good choices —”

“Which is the only reason why your father and I have never forced you into anything.” Cecelia continued.

“Are you sure you want this, honey?” David asked. “Pretend that your… your fiancé isn’t sitting right beside you, and tell us honestly, with absolutely no strings attached. Do you want this?”

Hermione knew that her only option was to lie. No. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want to get married, and she certainly did not want a relationship with Malfoy. After certain events, she found herself being pulled in like a rip wave, and she had no way of getting out.

“Yes.” She answered with a whisper. “I want this.”

“Then we’ll support you, baby.” Cecelia said with a smile, before turning to Draco. “So, Draco.” She began in attempts to get to know her future son-in-law. “Tell me, what do you do? Are you currently employed?”

Draco took a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am. I’m in the family business, in line to take over when my father retires.”

“And what is your families business?” David asked.

Turning to Draco, Hermione suddenly realized that she did not know what Draco did for a living..

Ignoring Hermione’s sudden shift in attention, Draco answered. “We deal with plenty. Mostly, our company has dealt with telecommunications. Because it’s slightly different in our world, it’s a bit harder. Recently, we’ve been dipping into several new fields, trying to expand our range.”

“That sounds very… stable.” David nodded approvingly. “I take it that this is your ultimate path in life?” he asked. “Taking over your father’s business?”

Hesitant to answer, Draco shifted both his and Hermione’s hands, fiddling with her fingers. “Once the waters have stilled, I intend of taking at least a year off. I began working not long after graduating Hogwarts, and It’s been difficult. I’m only twenty, and I’m already swamped with work."

Understanding, David nodded. “May I ask when you two are planning on having a wedding?”

“In about a year or so.” Draco replied stiffly. “We would both like to wait until we are twenty-one.”

“That sounds rational.” Cecelia remarked, nodding approvingly. “Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, Hermione,” she stood up from the armchair and held out her hand. “Come help me with dinner. I’m sure that you still know how to whip up strawberry pie?”

“I could never forget, mum.” Hermione smiled. She released Draco’s hand and took hold of her mothers’.

Preparing dinner went by like a breeze. Since Draco was left with her father, she felt slightly anxious for the next hour and a half. She wasn’t neither sure how well Draco interacted with parents, nor was she sure how behaved her father intended on staying. She feared that Draco was growing uncomfortable with each passing moment, until it had dawned on her that she shouldn’t even care.

Regardless, she found herself stealing glances towards the kitchen door, unsure of what exactly it was that she was searching for.

While preparing dinner, Cecelia avoided all topics concerning Draco. She asked Hermione about work, about her plans for her future career, about her friends — Harry, Ron and Ginny — but refused to touch Draco’s corner of her life, despite the fact that it had become a rather large corner. Prior to her realization that it was for the best, Hermione was more concerned than she should have been. If her mother did not approve of her marriage with Draco, their eventual divorce will be a clean one.

It wasn’t they where setting the table for dinner, when Cecelia finally decided to shed some light on her feelings about her daughters sudden marriage.

“Draco seems nice.” Cecelia remarked. “Although I am more than surprised.. you two fit.”

Confused as to what she meant, Hermione gave her mother a strange look before she disappeared through the doorway of the kitchen in order to get the main dishes. “I don’t quite understand you, mum.”

“Well..” Cecelia began, loosely crossing her arms over her chest with a small, wistful smile on her face. “The way you’re always fidgeting when you’re away from him…” Hermione looked horrified as her mother began explaining. “Don’t try to deny it, Hermione. I saw you stealing glances towards the sitting room while we were making dinner. Dare I say, you look better with him than you did with Ronald.”

Hermione almost laughed out loud. “How so, mum?” she asked, amusement tinted in her voice. If only Draco could hear her mother now…

“Don’t get me wrong, you and Ron looked comfortable, almost like me and your father. You two have fallen into a relationship that’s based on routine and familiarity, when in truth, it should be a lot more than that.” There was a thoughtful and passionate expression on Cecelia’s face as she spoke. “But as I see you and Draco — now there’s what you call love.”

This time, Hermione couldn’t help but snort as she organized the table.

“I may just be a University professor, Hermione, but I know love when I see it. You’re always on edge.” She informed her. “Honestly, it’s hard to tell how compatible the two of you are, but you and Draco look nothing like how you and Ronald did. There’s spark.” Cecelia finished smiling.

“There’s a spark there alright.” Hermione said, turning her head to look at Draco, suddenly feeling frustrated at the mere sight of him. “But it has nothing to do with love.” She muttered under her breath when she was sure her mother was out of earshot.

“Is he good in bed?” Cecelia suddenly asked playfully.

Hermione’s eyes snapped up from the table and her expression immediately turned into that of disgust. “Mum!” she exclaimed.

“What?” she laughed loudly. “Oh c’mon, Hermione. You’re a grown woman now. You’re no longer a child. I think this conversation is now deemed appropriate, don’t you?”

“No.” Hermione answered firmly as she shook her head. “No, never in a million years will this conversation ever be appropriate between us.”

Cecelia abruptly smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mum!” Hermione exclaimed again. “Let’s just call in dad and Draco so we can start dinner.”

After a deep intake of breath, Hermione walked through the dining room and into the sitting room, where she stopped beside Draco. Timidly, she took his hand in hers and pulled him off the couch. “Dinner.” She smiled at him. “I see you and my father are getting along nicely.”

David stood and turned the television off. He clasped a large hand on Draco’s shoulders and smiled approvingly. “He’s a keeper.” He remarked.

“Are you now?” Hermione asked playfully, raising and eyebrow.

“My Malfoy charm even works on parents.” Draco smirked arrogantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes as they walked to the dining room together.

“What was all the shouting for?” Draco leaned down and whispered in her ear as they walked.

She grimaced and shook her head, sending a whiff of her scent in Draco’s direction.

“You sounded… irritated.” He continued while he unknowingly brushed his lips against her earlobe. “What were you two talking about?” he continued curiously.

“She asked if you were good in bed.” Hermione snarled.

Draco stopped in his tracks and scowled.

The rest of dinner went by smoothly. Draco conversed politely, and by the end of the meal, even Hermione couldn’t deny that the boy had an irresistible charm.

When the night was over, Hermione and Draco slowly walked back to the small sleek car. “That was nice.” Hermione declared. “Better than I had expected.”

“Your parents are nice.” He added. “I must tell you, I feel slightly guilty that the burden of dealing with parents are slightly uneven between us.”

Hermione laughed softly. “Meeting your parents was a lot easier than I had anticipated. Although I know that your mother and father don’t want anything to do with me, at least they had the decency to be polite.

She climbed into the passenger seat as Draco stepped into the drivers seat. He turned the engine on, and the two sped away, with headlights pointing straight forward.

“Your mother is playful.” He commented. “She seems young.”

She laughed. “Her maturity level is no where near her actual age. But it’s nice.” She said, looking out the window. “My father is never bored.”

Silence fell upon them for a few moments. They refused to move, despite the uncomfortable silence. Perhaps because in a few short moments, the silence became bearable.

“I can tell they’re not happy with my decision.” Hermione spoke softly, breaking the silence. “They simply refuse to show it. I can bet you that my mother is probably stressing about all the wrong decisions I’m about to make, right now.”

“I thought they approved.”

“They did. Only because they knew that doing anything otherwise would only worsen the situation. My parents are rational thinkers. Thankfully.”

Silence came once more, but it did not last long before Draco sliced through it. “I’m sorry.” He said suddenly, glancing in her direction. She looked confused, and he turned away. “I’m sorry for messing up your life. They’re right, you know.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Your parents. You shouldn’t be getting married this young. Especially not to someone like me.”

“Someone… like you?”

“I’ll only bring you down, Granger.” He said with a tight jaw. He refused to look at her, and kept his eyes glued to the road. “I know it may not be now, but somewhere in the next year that we’re forced to spend together, I’ll end up being your demise.”

Hermione snorted. “Don’t worry about me, Malfoy. As long as we stick to the plans and the rules, we’ll get out of this safely.”

“Still..” he argued. “I’m sorry. I was being selfish. I see that now.”

She smiled at him mischievously. “As long as you know.”

Draco thought that they would become engulfed with silence once more, and began wracking his brain for something to say. However, Hermione beat him to the punch and said, “Would you look at that.” She smiled at the digital clock in front of them. “Four hours without fighting.”

He chuckled. “Who would have thought. Hermione Granger knows how to be mature.” He began laughing at his own remark.

Abruptly, the car began to slow down until it came to a halt. If it weren’t for the surprised expression on Draco’s face, she would have thought that he was stopping on purpose. “What the —” Without warning, Draco slammed his hands against the steering wheel out of frustration. “This is just perfect.” He said sarcastically as he threw his hands up in the air. “There’s no gas.”

Hermione groaned and allowed her head to fall back against the head rest. “You have to be kidding me.” She said. “We’re so far from home.”

“This is why I don’t trust muggle transportation.” He growled.

“Why didn’t you check before we left the house?” she snapped, turning towards him with livid eyes. “You’re the driver, Malfoy, you need to be responsible for these things.”

“It’s your car.” He argued with a dangerous tone. “You should be the one to keep track of the gas.”

“If you had just swallowed your pride and let me drive, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.” she countered. “I mean honesty, who cares if your bloody fiancé is the one with the sports car? You’re the one who’s about to inherit a gigantic company.”

Frustrated with both the car, and Hermione, he unbuckled his seatbelt and immediately stepped out of the small vehicle. “Is there a gas station near by?” he asked. “We can apparate there and get gas.”

“We’re in the muggle world, Malfoy.” Hermione replied as she got out of the car as well. “We’ll get caught if we apparate.”

“Gas stations have surveillance cameras.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” he demanded.

“We could send someone a patronus.” She suggested.

“Potter and Weasley should own cars, right?”

Hermione sighed heavily and leaned against the hood of the car. They’re over sea’s, conducting a raid somewhere with a few ministry officials. That’s why Ginny came over last night, Harry wasn’t home and she got bored.”

“Pansy owns a car.” Draco said, but then shook his head immediately. “Never mind, Pansy is useless. She won’t go out of her way to get us.”

“Why not?” Hermione frowned and knitted her eyebrows together.

“She likes to torture me sometimes. And this is the kind of situation that she would just love to leave me to drown in.”

“Then we’ll have to go by foot.” She sighed exasperatedly. “Pick, right or left.”

“You want us to walk to the gas station?” he asked, shocked.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Hermione snapped. “Pick, Malfoy.”

“What if we go the wrong way?”

“Then we’re shit out of luck.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Right.”

They began walking up the road they came from, both of them silently praying that there would be a gas station nearby. Their walk was silent. The only sounds that filled their ears were the constant cars that sped by, and the sound of their shoes hitting the pavement. Twenty minutes passed, and they were still walking. Hermione shivered once she noticed the sudden drop in temperature.

“This is hopeless.” She said in defeat. “We might as well return to my parents house and hope that they have gas.”

“You read my mi —”

“This car is stopping…” Hermione noted, pointing to a small, sleek black car that was just beginning to pull up beside them. Unexpectedly, the headlights, along with the car, turned in their direction, momentarily blinding the couple.

The headlights soon turned off, followed by the engine. The car door opened, and a man dressed in a smart, grey suit stepped out. His hands were in the pocket of his trousers, and he was grinning at Draco as he approached them.

“Carrow.” Draco stated once realization struck him.

“Draco.” The man greeted with a smirk. “Merlin, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you.”

“Indeed,” Draco replied stiffly. “It’s been a while.”

“Do you two need a lift?” Carrow asked, motioning to his car. “I was on my way home from a business meeting with muggles.”

“A lift to the nearest gas station would be nice.” Draco answered, nodded.

Carrow didn’t move. Instead, his attention shifted from Draco, and to Hermione. “Well,” his smirk turned into a charming smile. “Hermione Granger, is it?” he held out his hand, and Hermione shook it politely. “I’ve read all about you two in the Daily Prophet. You’re… quite the celebrity.”

“Oh yes.” Draco remembered. “Hermione, this is Wesley Carrow. He’s an old friend, from Hogwarts. I’m sure you remember seeing him around.” Hermione nodded. “Carrow, this is my fiancé, as you know. Hermione Granger.”

As a proper form of an introduction, Carrow smiled at Hermione again, and kissed the back of her hand like a proper gentlemen. “I’m certainly pleased to meet you, Miss Hermione Granger.” He breathed softly.

“Pleasure.” She replied, breathlessly.



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