Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Uneventful Story	By : SnowflakeImp Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 39223 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
The Uneventful Story

By: Snowflake Imp

Rated: NC-17

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I really
don�t have anything wittier to say about not owning Harry Potter, which worries
me. Has my delicious wit, my fabulous
creativity, run dry?? Say it ain�t so!

***********************************************************************

Diary Entry No. 55, Vol. V

I really hate to keep harping on about this shit business,
like some pretentious novelist trying to tie in everything important with a
mere word, but that damn word consistently pops up wherever I go.

It�s not that right now my life is in the proverbial privy,
but it definitely is not a bag full of giggles either. On second thought, there must be at least
someone, somewhere out there having a giggle at my expense. Curse them all. I�d like to know who decided it would be amusing to torture me
so. Did I not wish for a boring,
uneventful, normal life? I�m pretty
sure I did. No, I�m sure of it. I wrote it down somewhere in this diary, in
case written proof needs to be procured.

I really��.I really can�t make heads or tails of this. Was it all some strange, terrible
dream? It certainly feels like it at
times. It was so bizarre, so out of
place, ending so abruptly � I could have sworn it was a drunken imagination
gone all wrong. Every cell in my body
is screaming that in no possible way could that have occurred. Every bit of my pragmatic side is lecturing
me, telling me that there is too much evidence to prove that what happened was
possible.

But it did happen.

And I don�t know why.
I don�t even know where to start thinking about it, to try to make sense
of it. The threads of my sanity are
being strained with effort. Too many
questions are swimming in my mind.
Why. How. What.
Why, again.

Forgetting that�..bastard�s motivation, I
can�t even attempt to think about me right now. What did I see? What did
I feel? What do I feel? These are questions that I�m afraid to ask,
because I�m afraid of the answers that they will bring. Like the opening of a Pandora�s box. Like purposefully entering into a
hurricane. Of course I want to get down
to the root of things, to find out what in blazes in going on around here. But at the same time, I want to follow his,
er, demands and just forget about it.
Pretend that it never happened.
Move on with my life.

The problem with that is I don�t know what to do with
Malfoy. He�s been of no help, as
usual. For the past few days that I�ve
mustered up the courage to go to work, he has been avoiding me like the
plague. It�s hard to describe but it�s
different than the last time, when we had that row about Alex. This time, there�s�..a coldness. Something chilling separating us. For once, I�m scared to approach him. I�m scared of what he might say or God
forbid, what he might do. I�m wondering
if I should tell someone about this, like Harry. The problem is, I�d have to tell him. And then I�ll find out things. And then Harry will find out things. And then blood will be shed.
I should develop a better plan than that before doing anything rash.

One thing about me that really annoys me is my
curiosity. My life would be a whole lot
easier if I didn�t have this urgent need to satisfy it all the time. Because of this vexing trait, I know my feet
will soon lead me to him but for now, I�m glad for the distance. I�d rather just shove everything all under
the carpet until I�m prepared to deal with it.

Merlin, what a mess.

Speaking of messes, that reminds of another one I�m in�..

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn�t falling for Blaise. Not even a little bit.
Well, of course she felt something. That man was beautiful after all. He made her flush, stammer, made her heart race. But those were all natural reactions. She would have felt the same way had the
statue of David came to life and handed her a bouquet of daisies.

And that was it. He
was like a living, breathing work of art.
Breathtaking, but untouchable.
Something to be admired from afar.
He just didn�t��.touch her.
It was like he wasn�t human.
Perfect from every angle, inside and out. There wasn�t any attraction, just an objective appreciation of
him.

Hermione moaned.

Don�t tell her she needed a man with�..flaws. Oh gods, how predictable if true. Not only did she feel compelled to save
downtrodden magical creatures all the time, but must she also prefer a human
Crookshanks equivalent to save and nurture?
What a bleak outlook. In any
case, mate theories aside, she had to focus on the issue at hand!

What was she going to do?
Well, she had to let him down gently.
And she had to return the necklace.
Only decent thing to do. Yes,
she had to give back that big thing of shiny, what with its shininess and
shining-like shine � focus! � but how was she supposed to do it? Who was she, Plain Jane Hermit Hermione, to
reject someone like Blaise Zabini? It
was unheard of.

But it was the right thing to do. She
wasn�t about to lie to herself and some bloke just because society dictates
that she should be ecstatic with her outrageous lottery win. She had to let him know. If he wasn�t all crazy, Malfoy would have
been the perfect person to talk to about this sort of thing. Damn him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

�Damn her,� Draco thought as he stumbled across his
bedroom.

He clumsily opened up a desk drawer, revealing vials upon
vials of glowing red liquid. He picked
one up with a cold, clammy hand and stared at it.

Hating it. Needing
it.

Damn her, damn him, damn them all. Did they think this was easy for him? That this potion was the cure all, save all to his
problems? They didn�t know
anything. Not a damn thing. He hated this. Every single minute of it since he could remember.

It was torturous. It
was like dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving tiger. Did they really expect for him not to
pounce? He set down the vial on top of
his desk, running his hand through his hair.
A habit of his when he was frustrated.

It wasn�t enough anymore.
None of it. He looked at the
vial, laying there, almost projecting an aura of forced innocence. It made him sick. He picked it up again, pulling the cork out and pressed it to his
lips, as if to drink it. After a pause,
he sighed and replaced the cork, setting the vial down once again on top of his
desk. Draco instead opened a smaller
drawer in his desk and took out a small photograph, yellowed and worn with
age. He sunk into his chair tiredly.

What did they want from him?

And there he sat, like so many nights, alone in his dark and
empty room, behind his large, mahogany desk.
Staring at that old picture, mesmerized.

A seventeen year old Hermione Granger was looking away to
the side, talking to someone out of the frame.
Her smile, her eyes, her demeanor � everything about her was young,
without the weight that she carried now.
Without the lines, the age, the scars, the look of utter exhaustion she
later took on. She was pure, happy and
untainted. Then, she turned to the
camera, her eyes soft and bright with surprise. A candid shot discovered.

�Fuck,� he whispered.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things were a lot more difficult now that Malfoy had
basically closed himself off to the rest of the world. Or to Hermione, at least. Instead of just barging into his office to
get his signature for some funding, she now had to give the documents to Ian,
who then slipped them to David, to then flirted his way into giving them to the
Cheryl, who then passed them on over to Ming, who finally dropped them off to
Draco�s In-Box.

It was such a waste of time. Typical of government bureaucracy, but it still annoyed Hermione.

She couldn�t bring herself to go see him. Not just yet. She tried to work up the nerve, she really did. Twice she had even found herself in front of
his office, his door closed, her hand poised to knock.

Gryffindor courage indeed.

To nurse her self-inflicted wounded pride, she hid herself
in the dark corner of the break room, sipping on forbidden black, sugarless
coffee. The bitterness of the drink
helped put her mind at ease. She let
out a satisfied sigh.

�Oh coffee, you would never betray me,� she thought
wistfully.

Unfortunately, her little piece of calm was interrupted by
the swarm of office girls that decided now would be a good time to catch up on
some gossip. Hermione glowered at them,
safe in knowing that they probably didn�t even notice her when they came
in. She hoped they would be quick about
it. She didn�t want to leave right away
but she didn�t want to be seen as an eavesdropper either. She would just have to wait until they were
finished. What idiotic, stupidly piece
of boring information would they share today?
Hermione prayed it wasn�t too insipid as she didn�t want to lose any
more brain cells.

�Okay ladies, own up!� a pretty woman of African descent
started. �We all swore we�d do this, so
no one hold back now. Who�..has been
with Draco Malfoy?�

Hermione bit back a tiny �eep!� and tried to back away
further into the corner. Damn damn
damn! Must he come up in every
conversation, every thought, every dream �

�No no, not dream, especially not mine!� she thought
frantically, apparently trying to convince some invisible force of her alleged
innocence on this matter. �I
definitely do NOT dream of him and the only reason why I think of him at all is
to figure out why he�s gone barmy in the head!
And then possibly to contact the proper authorities and arrest him.�

Only half true. In
reality, she found her mind unwittingly drifting back to that night in bathroom
and feeling warm all over. Quite a
number of times. She would quickly
quash it with a huge inner tirade about the disgustingness of it and her utter
disapproval, but it always managed to crawl back into her thoughts. Hermione reddened. She definitely did not want to hear any of this. But her feet refused to move.

Out of the group of nine, six of them raised their
hands. They all ooh-ed and pointed and
laughed and some even shot a few jealous glares which were quickly hidden and
morphed into that of friendliness. One
girl, Hermione recognized her as that silly bint in Muggles Relations,
giggled. �I know I should be mad he�s
been with so many girls, especially ones I know, but I�m not!�

Hermione tried not to snort. �Yes, because you probably consider it such an honor
that such a popular ladies� man chose you to be a part of his ever-growing
harem. Congratulations,� she
thought, sneering a little.

�This may be a stupid question,� a quiet girl from
Accounting began, unfortunately not one of the women who raised their hands,
�but what would you rate him in bed?�

�A ten!�

�An eleven!�

�We might as well make that a hundred!� To this statement they laughed in agreement
and a few sighed, swooning.

�He�s so perfect � even if he was a lousy man in bed just
his looks alone rank him at least a seven,� one girl pointed out, fanning
herself at the memory.

As much as she tried to grit her teeth and mentally sing all
the lullaby songs she knew, Hermione felt herself being drawn into the
conversation. Her mouth was dry,
despite the large mug of coffee in front of her. Something was stirring in her heart, making it pump like mad and
her pulse erratic. It was almost as if
she felt�..jealous.

�Which is ridiculous!� she cried out in her
mind. �Why in the world would I feel
jealous! It�s revolting!�

And yet, as they chattered on, singing him so many praises,
Hermione felt�.possessive. Like they
weren�t worthy. If only for a moment,
she had a flash of thought: He
belonged to her.

�Okay Agnes, you drew the short straw,� one of them
said. �Tell us what he was like and
spare no details!�

�Well,� she began, a little embarrassed but hugely proud of
herself, �to sum it up in one word, he�d have to be�.�

Everybody, including Hermione, leaned forward on the edge of
their seats.

�Attentive,� she blurted out, much to the delight of the
other girls. They hooted and squealed. After calming down a bit, it was unanimously
agreed upon that �attentive� was indeed the perfect word to describe his skills
in bed.

�I mean, he�s so charming when he takes me out, always says
the right things and he always pays for everything,� Agnes continued, with the
women around her nodding in agreement.
�And when we make love� � here Hermione gagged � �he�s so gentle and
oooh, deliberate!�

�I know what you mean luv, he�s so controlled and calm,
always knows where to go and what to do,� another one chimed in, not at all
embarrassed at sharing her intimate details.
�He always puts my needs first.�

As they continued waxing about his technique, Hermione could
only look at them, wide-eyed in disbelief.
Gentle? Controlled? Calm? Were they even talking about the same
person? Because she certainly didn�t
remember him like that. Not that she
wanted to remember him at all. But if
she had to, she knew that he was aggressive, crazed, barely in control of
himself. Carnal, whispering dirty words
with abandon.

As if picking up on her thoughts, a forlorn, until then
silent, Mindee spoke up. �Are you sure
that�s a good thing?� her voice devoid of life, her eyes sad. Hermione didn�t even notice she was in their
group until then.

Long since dumped, she continued dully, �Maybe he�s like
that because he�s devoid of passion.�

The girls quieted at this new revelation. �What are you talking about Mindee? Don�t sound so glum, he moved on and so
should you. We have! And who knows, you may just be pretty enough
for him to have another go with,� Agnes retorted, not at all pleased at what
she was hearing.

Mindee merely shrugged.
The problem with Mindee was that she was just a little smarter than most
of the girls he dated, but not smart enough to avoid his charm. She noticed things. She thought about things, not just shove
them into a locker and convince herself of something that would make her feel
better.

The truth was, they all meant nothing to him. And she figured that out a little too late.

Hermione was frozen in her seat, not being able to process
what she was hearing. She didn�t know
how much longer they gossiped, but Mindee�s attitude definitely put a strain on
the fun of things and they went back to work soon enough. Hermione remained in her seat.

Her heart pounded for a whole different reason. All she could think was:

What did that make her?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

�Stop thinking about it stop thinking about it
stopthinkingaboutitstopthinkingaboutit!� she thought nervously to herself
as she managed to walk down the hall in a brisk manner. Perhaps walking faster, to her, would allow
her to literally run away from her thoughts.

When she had dared venture her thoughts as to what Malfoy�s
intentions were, she had entertained the notion that he might have been
drunk. Heaven knows once a man was
drunk, randiness was soon to follow, if he was a low sort of man. Which Malfoy was. That seemed like a pretty good explanation if one didn�t squint
too hard. Yes, he drank too much of the
bubbly, saw a naked female in the tub and automatically went in for the
kill. Once he realized who exactly said
female was, he quickly retreated, cursed, and did all he could to make sure the
incident never left the room out of embarrassment and disgust.

It was a shame to know , then, that Hermione was an
intelligent woman. There were too many
holes in this logic and she couldn�t accept it, as much as she wanted to. He said something, something that should
make sense, somehow. It
was tickling at the back of her memories, just a little bit out of reach.

She was shaken out of her musings by a shattering noise,
like someone had thrown a vase against the wall.

Someone had thrown a vase against the wall.

�Just who do you think you are?!� a watery voice screeched.

Hermione sighed.
Well, she had already eavesdropped on one conversation today, why not go
for the world�s record? She stopped
short of passing by Draco�s opened doorway and leaned against the wall. Considering how sexy the woman was and how
she was an up-and-coming model, she would have thought Malfoy would�ve kept her
longer.

�You can�t break up with me! I�ve walked down all of France�s runways and you have the nerve
to break up with ME?�

�So should the proper course of action be that you
break up with me then?� Draco�s amused tone did not sit well with the
woman.

�You think this is funny? Do I amuse you, Draco Malfoy?�

Hermione didn�t hear him saying anything back, so she
assumed he made some sort of face that infuriated Renee even more. Soon after she burst into tears, for which
Hermione rolled her eyes. If there was
one thing Hermione and Draco had in common, it would have to be tears, more
specifically, the hate of. Both from
their own eyes and others.

She wondered if it was because she grew up as an only child
and an isolated one at that. She really
didn�t have any real friends until she met Harry and Ron and well�.they were
boys. Comforting people just wasn�t her
strong point � she was a problem solver, not a nurturer by nature, though she
had tried hard in the past to rectify this.
It was just too alien to her when people in front of her opened
themselves up like a book and let out such raw emotions for all to see. Hermione really didn�t know what to do.

She broke out of that train of thought when the argument
made a drastic turn. Her heart froze.

�I knew it! I should
have listened to all the girls, telling me what a cruel, heartless bastard you
really are! I guess it�s true what they
say, a Death Eater really doesn�t change its tattoos!� Renee�s voice creaky
from tears, but edged with cruel triumph.

Hermione could feel each heartbeat pump, banging into her
ribcages one by one. That woman�.couldn�t
possibly have the nerve to bring that up. Her ears became supersensitive, reaching out, aching to hear what
Draco had to say.

�Ah, I�ve always wondered who started that unoriginal
catchphrase � would you care to enlighten me?� though he sounded nonchalant,
Hermione could hear the slight, subtle strain in his low voice.

It was taboo to bring up the subject of Death Eaters,
especially in front of those who used to be one. Any former Death Eater walking around today was a reformed one,
or at least that was what the government called them. To those who were cynical, most of the so-called reformed Death
Eaters were the ones who had an iota of a brain cell later on in the War and
switched sides to save their hides.
Most believed that the Death Eaters who weren�t sent to Azkaban or
executed were still slimy, evil little maggots that managed to talk and swindle
their way into freedom. No doubt if
they had the chance, they would renew their criminal lifestyle and the entire
war-torn community would have to pay for it.

It got so bad that the Ministry had to step in to prevent
hate crimes against them � a cruel irony.
A law was later passed, to much controversy, declaring that anyone found
guilty of abusing, verbally or otherwise, a pardoned defector of war without
provocation was to be sent to Azkaban for six to twenty-eight months, depending
on the nature of the crime. A sentence
like that was met with much outrage from the public, but the Minister
stubbornly refused to budge.

As much as Hermione hated to admit it, out of all of the
pardoned Death Eaters, Malfoy was probably one of the most, if not the best,
one out of the whole lot. Most of them
you could just sense a slick, oiliness to their nature. Like the normal lives that they had taken
were mere covers for whatever ambitions they had in their closets. Malfoy had genuinely wished to put the past
behind him and had thrown himself into the new world order with one hundred
percent sincerity. She knew the pains
that came with that Mark. She knew what
sacrifices he made during the War. She
knew what he carried.

So far, she hadn�t notice anyone give him grief about his
past, but if anyone were to bring it up��.

It should definitely not be this stupid,
worthless girl.

As Renee continued her rant, Hermione found herself getting
more and more irate. Who was she to go
on insulting him about his past, about a part of him she had no idea
about. A part she couldn�t possibly even
fathom.

Sure, he had a wandering eye, but at least he treated the
girls decently, never insulting them or hitting them � they could have gotten
it a lot worse. And although he was a
bit cold-hearted, calling him cruel and evil seemed over the top to Hermione. Didn�t he shower her with gifts, with
affection, letting her do anything her heart desired? He went along with every insipid request she had. He helped raise her status among the
wizarding elite. And now she had the
gall to bring up that?!

Hermione�s lip curled, getting angrier at each annoying
sound Renee was making. Why wasn�t he
saying anything? Defending
himself? Or at the very least, shoot
her down � she had definitely left herself open for attacks on almost all
subjects. Was he just going to take
this? From her? This�.nobody?

She couldn�t understand why she was feeling so defensive
about this whole affair, when just seconds ago she was cursing him to high hell
and back. Shouldn�t any kind of act
against him please her?

�It�s completely different!� she thought stubbornly
to herself. �I�ve been tortured for
years and he�s done far worse to me than he could ever do to her. It�s about seniority, it�s about
rights! If anybody�s going to lay his
murky past on him, well�.it�it better be me!�

So that was it. It
was about possession. She could hate
him all she wants but he was off-limits to everybody else. And something was stirring in her. Something primal, something
instinctive. But she waited. Thinking that the next word Renee said would
be her last. That stepping in
prematurely was too extreme. But then�.

�Let me see it then!
Let me see the proof that you have no heart, you evil, vile monster!�
Renee shrieked, the sound of her platform shoes thudding on the carpet.

Hermione�s eyes widened.
She wouldn�t dare.

She didn�t have the right.

Suddenly Hermione found herself in Draco�s office, her hand
squeezing his left forearm tightly, making sure Renee wouldn�t be able to roll
the sleeve up to see his Mark. She must
have said that last thought out loud, because the other woman was sputtering at
her abrupt arrival.

�Who do you think you are, interrupting �� she began before
getting ruthlessly cut off.

�Who do you think you are, thinking you had the right
to see this,� she hissed back. Before
Renee could get a word in edgewise, Hermione continued, her voice colder than
ice.

�You haven�t earned that right. You weren�t there, suffering with the rest of us! You have no idea what it was like, so don�t
you dare go spouting off big, pretty words like cruel, and evil,
because you haven�t got a clue. Once
you�ve really experienced those words, once you�ve felt it grip your very soul,
then you come back and say those words to his face. Until then, keep your damn hands to yourself.�

Her grip on his arm was iron, utterly unrelenting. Renee looked up incredulously to Draco, as
if demanding him to remove her so they could resume their fight. But Draco was silent, his eyes straight and
unreadable, his mouth grimly set.

He didn�t acknowledge her.

Renee was about to step forward to Hermione, but one look at
the fierce brunette�s expression and she backed away. Knowing that she was beaten, she huffily turned around and began
marching out. But she wasn�t about to
leave with her tail between her legs � she wanted to get in one last shot.

�You damn war brats,� she spat. �Thinking you�re above everybody else just
because you played soldier with all the adults. You�re not better than me!�

War brats. That was
an unkind term given to the younger generation that participated in the
War. Those who managed to escape the
War came back to discover a whole new subculture, a sort of �in-crowd� that was
so tight knit it was impossible to break through. After all, what bonds could be stronger than those who lived and
died in war beside each other? Because
of the ravages of war, it was understandable that it was difficult for them to
reintegrate into normal society, thus they usually holed themselves up with
each other, making them seem elitist.
The Purge made it easier for them later on, but the term was still flung
around from time to time.

The two said nothing as the model stormed out and slammed
the door behind her. After a long
pause, Hermione was the first to come to her senses. She released his arm slowly, as if her hand was molded onto his
arm. When neither of them said anything
for awhile, Hermione gruffly offered, �Sorry, I didn�t mean to butt in, but you
really should have said something.�

He didn�t reply. He
wasn�t even looking at her. The air was
tense, awkward. She continued.

�I mean, really!� she declared, getting into the heat of
things. �Were you just going to stand
there and take it? Let her see your
Mark like she owned you? Why didn�t
defend yourself? You should have said
something - !�

�Shut up!� he finally roared, glaring at her. Her mouth shut immediately with a
clack. She certainly wasn�t expecting
him to be so hostile, much less lose control to yell at her.

�Why can�t you just shut up for once in your life!? Didn�t mean to butt in � you knew exactly
what you were doing! Damn you Granger,
damn you and your stupid, damnable Gryffindor compassion!� he shouted, his
words quick and strung together, escaping out of his mouth like a river. �I don�t need your charity, I don�t need you
to pity me and swoop down and save me like some Godforsaken house-elf!�

Forgetting entirely her previous fear of him, she shot back,
just as angry, twice as confused, �Oh of course, silly me! How stupid of me to offer help to the likes
of you! I should have known you
wouldn�t be able to appreciate something like kindness. I�m already regretting coming to your
defense!�

�Aren�t you scared?!
Aren�t you disgusted? Why are
you here, why did you come in and bring yourself into my affairs?� he asked,
jumping from one topic to another.
There was something desperate about the way he said that, Hermione
noticed, even in her rage. Like he was
trying to tell her something. But what?

�What are you talking about?! It�s very simple Malfoy � you were in trouble, I tried to help
you. No I�m not scared of you, but I am
damned tired of you and your antics!
What on earth is the matter with you lately? You�re not yourself! Are
you in any kind of trouble? If you are,
I can help you, you just have to � �

�Shut up! What did I
tell you about shutting up! Why can�t
you just stay out of my life! You�re
always doing this, tormenting me with your fucking saint routine! If you didn�t�..if you never��. God - !� he moaned in agony, halting his
pacing and gripped his head, his fingers fisting his fine hair.

Hermione�s eyes went wide.
She had never seen him so conflicted.
She stepped forward, her hand hesitantly reaching out for him. All that business about the bathroom was out
the window. Right now he was in pain
and she couldn�t stand seeing him like this.

�Malfoy, what�s wrong, are you okay �� she began softly but
was interrupted when he suddenly, forcefully crashed him lips against hers.

Her cry of surprise was muffled as he gripped the sides of
her face, cradling them harshly in his large hands. The kiss was hard, demanding, desperate. Almost painful. But it lit something deep in Hermione, something she wasn�t aware
of until now.

A fire began burning in her.

Just as quickly as the kiss started, he managed to abruptly
tear himself away from her with an anguished cry. He walked woodenly towards the door, his back to her. He placed one hand on the door, leaning on
it like a crutch, catching his breath.
The office was silent save for their harsh breathing, trying to catch a
breath. Hermione was frozen in place,
her mouth slightly opened.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, his hand slid
down to the doorknob, turning it, but not yet opening the door.

Without looking at her, he said quietly, raggedly:

�You�re destroying me, Hermione.�

And with that he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione wasn�t sure how she continued the rest of the
day. She wasn�t sure how she got home
or how she managed to slip into bed. It
was like her brain shut down and her body moved mechanically. Her mind tried to wander back to Malfoy�s
office to try to figure out what happened, but her mental fortitude proved
stronger and she forced herself not to think about. How she managed to fall asleep, she may never know.

She was awakened from her dreamless sleep around eight in
the morning with a loud tapping at her window.
Hermione groaned. �In the
name of the Queen,� she thought groggily.
�This had better be good.�

With hair sticking out everywhere, she shuffled to her
window and opened it, managing to open one eye. A large, regal owl swooped in, dropped an envelope off and just
as quickly left. Which was strange, as
most owls waited for the recipient to respond with a letter of their own.

She fumbled with the envelop for a bit until she managed to
rip it open. Her heart sank. Well, it was only a matter of time, after
all.

Dearest Hermione,

I hope this letter
finds you in good health. I was
wondering perhaps, if you would do me the honor of joining me for brunch at the
Garden Villa. I must confess, I have
been thinking about you these past few days and I wish to speak to you about
certain matters. I hope to see you
soon.

Always,

Blaise Zabini

Hermione sighed. She
wondered if they were going to have the infamous �Talk� that couples often refer to, usually with much
dread. Even though she was uneasy about
what she had to say, in a way she was glad for it. This dilemma was a welcomed distraction.

As she was dressing, she couldn�t help but grumble at having
to wake up so early on a weekend.
Blasted aristocrats. In her
experience, the stereotypical �lazy noble,� where people pictured the elite as
slothful socialites that didn�t wake up until two in the afternoon and
frittered their days away, was entirely not true. She found that even though they indeed partied into the wee hours
of the night, they somehow managed to wake up around six in morning, sipping
from their priceless tea sets and reading the morning paper. They were energetic and spry, ready to take
the day by the horns and make the best of things. How did they do it? If
Hermione had to live their lifestyle for a week, she would have been a frazzled
mess.

After taking a scrutinizing look at herself in the mirror,
she squared her shoulders. Time to go.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The brunch was lovely � light yet filling, with a wonderful
view to go along with it. Though it was
obvious both of them had important things they needed to say, nevertheless
Blaise steered the conversation so that it was cheerful and delightful. At times Hermione wondered if perhaps she
was being too rash and that she should give him a chance.

But then he would look at her, usually with a certain intent,
and a cold chill would work its way up her spine. A foreboding sense would wash over her.

As they were taking a leisurely stroll around the beautiful
garden, talking about nothing, Hermione was only half paying attention to what
he was saying, opting for strengthening her resolve and egging herself on to
let him know how she felt.

At last, she blurted out, �Blaise, there�s something I have
to tell you!�

He looked at her in surprise, her outburst unexpected. He quickly smiled that easy smile of his and
motioned for her to sit down on a nearby bench. After courteously wiping the bench for her with his handkerchief,
they both sat down. She took a deep
breath.

�Er, I don�t really know how to put this, exactly, but I
think we�re � �

Blaise quickly interjected excitedly. �I think I know what you�re saying and I
completely agree!�

� � not right � wait, what?� she sputtered, quickly catching
on to what he just said.

�Trust me cara, I�ve been dying to say something for
a long time, but out of respect for you I have restrained myself,� he said
sincerely, his eyes bright.

Hermione shifted her eyes.
�I see�.,� she mumbled, not quite sure what to make of this. Was it really her great fortune to have him
feel the same thing as her? She was
doubtful. She was not, in her opinion,
a very lucky person. She was
suspicious, wondering if they were really talking about the same thing.

�Be that as it may,� she said cautiously, �I still think I
should tell you that I � �

He silenced her gently and gripped her hands. She noticed how warm and soft they were,
unlike�.

�Let us continue this discussion somewhere more�.discreet?�
he offered, squeezing her hands.

Throat dry, she managed a quick nod. Without letting go of her hands he stood up,
getting Hermione to rise with him. She
couldn�t help but notice that as they were walking, he continued to hold on of
her hands. She had a sinking feeling
they weren�t on the same page. Once
they stopped in front of his beautiful black coach, she worked up the voice to
ask, �Blaise, where exactly are we going?�

He looked at her in amusement, tilting his head a
little. �Why, a hotel of course.�

�W-why a�.a hotel?�

He laughed easily and stroked her hair affectionately. �Darling, being this coy really does suit
you. Isn�t it obvious? I thought we were going to�.pick up where we
last left off.�

Suddenly things turned chilly. Hermione wasn�t sure if it was her active imagination taking over
or not, but she could swear the air turned colder and the sun became obscured
with gray clouds. She was slowly
becoming more and more frightened, starting from the tips of her toes all the
way up to her scalp.

�I-I don�t know what you�re��

�Oh cara, mi fai impazzire,� he whispered huskily,
pulling her close and pressing his cheek against the top of her head. �You don�t know how long I�ve been waiting
for you. All this time, I was worried you
couldn�t remember, but now I know��

She was too shocked to move. What was he saying? He
could feel her body shivering and he wrapped his strong arms around her. When he felt her tense up, he held her at
arms length, smiling at her, thinking that would ease her worries. It only increased it. He lifted her chin with a crooked finger.

�You are�.� he said softly, gazing upon her face. He suddenly frowned and turned her head
slightly from side to side, as if examining her. He appeared satisfied after a bit and smiled again. �You really are�.quite beautiful.�

Hermione gulped. She
managed to take a few steps back, her arms crossed in front of her as if
protecting herself. �Blaise please, I
don�t understand! What is going on?�
she asked imploringly. Why did it seem
like every man in her life had a terrifying secret she couldn�t even begin to
comprehend?

�Don�t tell me you really don�t remember?� he asked
incredulously, laughing a bit as if the thought was absurd. At the look on her face, he knitted his
eyebrows. �But that doesn�t make any
sense. At first I did think you
and Draco couldn�t ��but I�m sure Draco remembers, so why don�t you�.?�

�What are you talking about?!� she practically shouted,
tired of forever being in the dark about everything. She was tired of being confused.
She was tired of feeling this way.
�I don�t know what you�re talking about!�

They stood there facing each other with a light breeze
passing by them. And then, Blaise began
to chuckle. Hermione looked up at him,
her eyes wet with frustration. His
chuckling turned to laughter and she had a very, very bad feeling about all of
this.

He casually walked up to her and softly cradled her face,
making her fully look up at him. His
eyes were glowing like molten amber, his smile amused with an edge of�something.

�You don�t remember, do you,� he said quietly, not really
asking a question. It seemed as though
he had finally figured everything out.

�You don�t remember a thing.�

*****************************************************************************

WHOOOW. That was a
tough chapter for me, mainly because it was all��seriousssss. I was feeling a bit bad that there wasn�t
(and probably won�t be for awhile) any really funny bits to this part, but then
I remembered that even in comedies, there�s usually a section in the middle
that is all seriousness (the climb to the climax, if you will) that later will
climb back up to funniness. So enjoy
this descent into darkness, things will be looking up soon enough!

Thank you all for putting up with me and my silly ideas and
less that stellar writing abilities. I
hope you enjoy this chapter, even though things don�t really get explained, but
things definitely do get REVEALED. I
was worried that this chapter was going to be super short (see my LiveJournal
entry), but it�s actually decently sized!

Apologies for all you Italian speakers, I�m afraid I have
botched up your language once again. Mi
fai impazzire = from what I stole off the internet, this is SUPPOSED to mean
something along the lines of, �you drive me crazy.� Please correct me if I�m wrong.
I know I messed things up in previous chapters, but thanks to your
suggestions once I do a complete revision on the whole story I will change my
mistakes.

Your comments really warmed me and I hope I can keep your
respect and loyalty in chapters to come.
Thank you in advanced for reading and especially if you comment. Although again, I do feel a little sorry for
your kids, hahahaha. Be like Hermione
and just throw some candy or food in the air and let them fend for themselves
while you read my story.

The next chapter will be up�..sometime�.I�m not sure when,
but please, again, check out my LiveJournal page to read up on either more of
my ramblings or for when I�m about to update (http://snowflakeimp.livejournal.com).

Kat_Diva, who is a wonderful supporter of my story and an
excellent writer asked a few questions so I thought I might as well share the
answers with you all, in case you were thinking of the same things.

* Did the "pink" accident ever get explained
because if it did, I've missed it twice now! �

Hehe no,
the �pink� accident never got explained and I intend to keep it that way. That way, it becomes as terrifying and as
gruesome as the reader�s imagination.
It also makes it more fun to reference to later on, without actually
giving away what happened. I find
people�s imaginations are much stronger and creative than anything I can dish
out.

* [Can you] maybe re-word the bathtub scene, how they are
positioned? I read that about 3-4 times and tried to get a visual, but had
difficulty. �

Sigh. Once again my writing skills defeat me. Booo.
Sorry folks, you must have been confused as well. I�ll try to make it more readable, but for
now, I�ll try to help you out with my miserable skillz: Let�s just say the �front� of the bathtub is
where the faucet is, and the back is the other end. Then let�s say the front of the bathtub is pointing to the door
of the bathroom. Okay, so what I was
trying to get at was Hermione�s back is to the door and to the faucet, but she
is sitting in the �front� of the bathtub (that�s why she couldn�t tell who came
in initially).

THEN Malfoy comes to sit down on the edge, facing her but
near the �end� of the bathtub. As he
enters, he�s facing her, and as he submerges himself, he�s kind of floating
belly-down with his feet at the end of the tub. Basically, their backs are to their respective ends of the
bathtub and they�re facing each other.

If you need more help, I can try to make a crude drawing,
but I warn you my drawing skills are rubbish.

Hope that clears up a lot of confusion!

Stay tuned next time, where things finally get raunchy (WITH
Blaise in it, but probably not in a situation you�re imagining) and Draco�s
character gets revealed even more. Muahahhaha see you all soon and have a
lovely holiday!

GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR TESTS!
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Uneventful Story