Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Muggle Things	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 54523 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the concepts or characters from it. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
A/N: Thank you to DaFossil, mugglegirl15, Severus1snape, HG4eva, Nichole-Hermione, Trelweny, discord_the_lunatic, Missus_G, ssdawning, and Tassana_burrfoot for the reviews!
And a huge thank you to Patrick, my beta reader, for his insights into the male mind.
On with the story....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ellen met her husband in the center of their yard and placed a hand to his shoulder.
"Do you plan to spend the remainder of your day out here brooding," she asked, tilting her head up at him, "or can we expect you to come back in and join us?"
Gene merely passed her the brown, severely wrinkled newspaper he had in his hands. She frowned down at it curiously, but took it from him.
"What's this?" she inquired as she turned it over.
"I found it here in the grass," he said flatly.
Ellen read the headline and inhaled a sharp breath. "Oh my," she whispered with a hand to her lips.
"How am I supposed to be alright with this?" Gene asked her, shaking his head as he stared off into the plant life. Ellen's brow knitted together as she silently continued to stare down at the paper.
"He has their mark, Ellen," he said, troubled. "I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I did. But this..."
"There has to be more to the story," Ellen said surely. She quickly skimmed the rest of the article and then handed it back to her husband. "I doubt Harry Potter would have vouched for someone he believed to be a criminal."
Gene frowned at the portion of the article that his wife was pointing to that indeed recounted how Draco had escaped conviction.
"Talk to him," Ellen said with a hand placed gently to his arm. "Go and talk to the man your daughter loves."
Gene closed his eyes in defeat. "And just what am I supposed to say to him?"
Ellen squeezed his arm. "You'll know what to say."
"No," he said, turning to meet her gaze, "I can barely keep up with Hermione. Their world is just so…"
"Different?" Ellen offered when he trailed off.
Gene inhaled an anxious breath. "Cruel," he sighed, "backwards. I understand why Mother left it behind."
Ellen made a humming sound and he looked back at the house. "He flinched when he saw I was angry, Ellen. What twenty-something flinches like that? And he was absolutely terrified when he thought Hermione was missing this morning. And that scar…"
Ellen laid her head against his shoulder. "They're all scarred," she whispered unhappily. "Harry and Ronald were too. Remember those faint swirls on Ronald's arms."
"And Hermione told some tale about how they were caused by thought tentacles or some nonsense?" Gene groaned in recollection.
Ellen nodded. "I don't even want to begin imagining what caused the scar on that boy in our kitchen," she whispered with a troubled look.
Gene sighed. "He was hiding Hermione's scars last night," he said as he wrapped an arm around his wife.
"I know," she said.
"He called her that word," Gene said, shaking his head, "that word that's etched into her. He used to call her that."
Ellen pulled herself free from him and forced a sad smile at him. "And now he doesn't."
Gene rubbed tiredly at his forehead.
"Just talk to him," Ellen suggested again. She turned to leave him then, but paused to say over her shoulder, "Hermione and I will be upstairs going through some of my old clothes."
Gene watched her for a moment and then started after her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco and Hermione both watched through the kitchen window above the sink as Ellen walked out to meet Gene.
"She'll calm him down," Hermione said as she passed Draco a plate. He dried it with an absentminded flick of his wand and set it aside with the others.
"I don't think so," he said, squinting out at the Grangers. "Fuck."
"What?" Hermione asked, looking up from the next plate she'd grabbed to begin washing.
"The paper," Draco said as he watched Ellen read over the tattered Prophet he'd dropped the night before, "I…I still had it in my hand when we Portkeyed."
Hermione set down the plate and gulped, her eyes trained on her parents.
"They'll know what I am," Draco said nervously, backing away from the sink, "they're going to know what I did."
"It will be okay," Hermione said surely, but Draco was already beginning to hyperventilate against the nearest wall. "Draco…"
She went to him and placed a hand flat to his chest. "Draco, look at me."
He slowly raised his apprehensive eyes to hers and she smiled encouragingly. "I know what you are," she said, her other hand covering his Mark, "and I'm not going anywhere."
Draco exhaled a shaky breath and merely slipped his arms around her and hugged tight. He closed his eyes when Hermione returned the embrace and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
That's how the Grangers found them when they reentered the house.
Hermione and Draco both snapped their faces up at the sound of the patio door closing. Draco's face went even paler than usual as he swiftly dropped his arms and tensed his shoulders as if bracing for an attack. His knuckles were white around the wand still clutched in his right hand.
When both Gene and Ellen eyed the polished stick Hermione gently squeezed her hand to Draco's upper arm. The gesture appeared to calm him slightly as he let his shoulders loosen and he quickly bent and stowed the wand at his ankle.
"I, um…"Gene started after clearing his throat when Draco stood straight again, "I apologize for the way I conducted myself earlier." He looked at Draco specifically. "I regret if I made you feel unwelcome."
Draco opened his mouth slightly as if to speak, but responded instead with a tight, jerked shake of his head.
The four of them simply stood there then, shifting their eyes between each other and the walls awkwardly until Ellen smiled and stepped over to her daughter.
"Hermione, darling," she said cheerfully, "I thought we might go through my wardrobe together. I recall you mentioning that you're always in need of new ensembles for work and I've got a number that I've been meaning to rotate out. Perhaps you'll find some you like to take home with you."
Hermione smiled back at her and, apparently understanding the covert, significant glance her mother made between Gene and Draco as the woman put her hand to her arm, turned to Draco.
"Do you mind?" she asked gently. He cast a wary glance at Gene but shook his head.
"No, of…of course not," Draco said, forcing a lopsided smile, "go… enjoy yourself."
Hermione gave him a searching look and then leaned in and placed a kiss to his cheek. "It'll be okay and I'll be just upstairs," she whispered to him before pulling back. He nodded once and then swallowed hard as he watched her slip out of the room at her mother's side.
The women's absence allowed another thick silence to settle over the kitchen as Draco and Gene both shifted on their feet on opposite ends of the room. Draco looked at the folded newspaper in the older man's hand and unconsciously pressed his left arm to his side to hide his Dark Mark. Gene noticed.
"So," he said, dropping the paper into a rubbish bin beside the counter, "I understand that you've met Mark Mitchell."
Draco stared at the bin as he answered. "I have."
"Good man Mark. How did you like his track?"
"It was quite the experience," Draco answered honestly. "I wouldn't mind another go round."
"Wouldn't we all?" Gene said with a friendly nod, then paused. "You know, there was a time when I was something of a petrolhead myself."
Draco didn't bother hiding his ignorance of the term. "Petrolhead, sir?"
"Car enthusiast," Gene clarified in a tone so similar to Hermione's that Draco smiled to himself. "I wonder," he went on, "if you might be interested in taking a peek under the bonnet of one of my own little beauties?"
"Uh, yeah," Draco replied, rubbing at the back of his head, "yeah, that'd be great. Any opportunity to learn, right?"
Gene's eyes flickered with something. "Indeed," he said. Draco shifted on his feet again, but before he had a chance to look uncomfortable, Gene started toward a door and motioned for Draco to follow.
"Come on. I'll introduce you to Claire."
Draco looked perplexed at the statement, but followed Hermione's father across the room to the door.
"Watch your step," Gene called over his shoulder as he flipped a switch beside the door and then stepped through. Draco went directly after him, looking down as he descended two short stairs, and then looked back up to find himself in a large, clean, utilitarian room.
Seeing Draco's bewildered look, Gene waved his hands around at the space. "This is what we call a garage," he said informatively.
"Garage," Draco repeated as he calmly cast his eyes around at the steel shelving and cabinets along the walls. Gene studied him as he came further in.
"I confess I'm impressed by your composure," Gene said, crossing his arms.
Draco furrowed his brow slightly at him. "I'm sorry?"
The older man smirked. "The last wizard Hermione brought here went a bit…hysterical when I showed him this room. Had to touch everything. A bit embarrassing to be honest."
"Weasley?" Draco asked casually as he resumed his quiet perusal. Gene's brow ticked upward.
"You know Ronald?"
The skin around Draco's eyes tightened a little. "Yes," he answered shortly. Gene simply watched him for a moment and then went on.
"Anyway," he said, "the kid went on for an hour about how his father would love to see it all. Asked if he could take home a box of spark plugs. Apparently the man has an affinity for all things mechanical."
Draco sniffed. "Yeah…well, I think I could bet my life on the fact that my father would detest everything about this place."
He immediately looked like he regretted divulging that bit of truth, but Gene merely shrugged and went to the center of the garage where a very large, tarp-covered mound took-up most of the space.
"Even this?" he said, bending over slightly to grab the bottom edge of the cover. He lifted it and swiftly, yet carefully folded it back to reveal an immaculate, shining vintage car.
Draco's jaw fell open slightly and he appeared to stop breathing.
"This is Claire," Gene said with a smug grin as he set the car cover to the side. Draco sucked in a breath and then gave a low, impressed whistle. He reached a hand out toward the car but then stilled it midair as if unsure he were allowed to touch.
Gene smiled at that. "Go on. You can touch her."
Draco took a step forward and slowly, reverently placed his palm to the front of the car. "Do all Muggles refer to their cars as women?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
Gene shook his head. "No. But my Claire's a lady, don't you think? Isn't she beautiful?"
"She's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he breathed as he ran his hand along the car. Gene didn't bother asking about what the wizard considered to be more beautiful as he stepped around the car and unlatched the bonnet. Draco removed his hand and stepped back as the man folded it up to reveal the engine.
"She's a Rolls Royce," Gene explained as Draco stared on with the same covetous gleam in his eye that he'd had when he'd first seen Mark's racer.
"I don't know what that means," he confessed as he touched a hand to the side of the car again and appeared to luxuriate in the feel of the sleek finish beneath his fingertips. Gene pursed his lips in thought as he watched Draco's eyes dart inquisitively, hungrily, over the exposed engine. He caught a flash of the Dark Mark when Draco pointed excitedly to the manifold and began asking questions but he simply smiled as he answered.
Draco nodded then in quiet awe as he listened to Gene explain the specs of the car and its history and performance capabilities.
"I usually take her out on Sundays," the man was saying as he carefully closed the bonnet, "to make sure she keeps running smooth and proper. We're a few days early, but..."
He stepped back around the car and opened the passenger side door. Draco gawked at him and he chuckled.
"Surely you wouldn't turn down an invitation from a beautiful lady?"
Draco allowed himself to smirk. "Depends on the lady," he said and Gene chuckled again.
"I suppose so." He motioned to the car seat. "Care for a spin?"
"Absolutely," Draco answered, stepping up and carefully sliding into the seat as Gene went around to the driver's side. He looked around eagerly at the car's interior while Gene got in.
"Don't forget your door," Gene reminded and Draco leaned over to pull the door shut. Gene shut his at the same time and the loud sound made Draco's eyes go wide. He silently gulped at the realization that he had just been effectively caged.
"You're good," Draco said quietly. Gene didn't acknowledge the statement but merely smiled as he ran his hands caressingly over the steering wheel.
"I've never let anyone but family sit in this car," he said with an idle tone. The declaration hung in the air as he made no move to start the ignition and Draco shifted in his seat. Gene squinted through the windshield as if trying to focus on something far away and then inhaled deeply before, very casually, pushing up his sleeves. The action very obviously bared his naked lady tattoo and Draco immediately looked over at it.
"Ugly, isn't she?" Gene joked, holding the arm up. Draco made a nervous, noncommittal noise and Gene laughed. "It's alright," he said, "You can admit it. The bitch is ugly."
Draco choked out an involuntary laugh at that and Gene tilted his head at his own arm as he admired the faded, poorly inked, pin-up style woman. "Did Hermione tell you I had this?" he asked lightly.
"She did," Draco answered as he tried again to hide his own desecrated arm. Gene hummed, his eyes still on his tattoo.
"Then she told you how I got it I presume?"
Draco's face sobered slightly as he nodded.
"And I also presume she explained how her mother abhors it?"
"Apparently there was a question over whether Hermione could remove it," Draco said and Gene nodded.
"I almost let her," the man said, his face going serious as he rubbed a thumb over the inked skin, "but, ugly as she is, I couldn't part with her. She means something…you know?"
Draco suddenly regarded the tattooed lady as if she were a snake about to strike.
"Comradery, loyalty, brotherhood," Gene went on. "She's more than a naked woman drawn onto me by a drunk vagabond in the back of a pub while I was on leave with my fellows. She's everything I went through in my service to Her Majesty's army, everyone I met, every life I became a part of."
Draco cast his gaze away from the woman to his lap where he slowly rolled his left arm to make his Dark Mark visible. Gene glanced at it for a millisecond before continuing on.
"I was a soldier," he said, "though I never saw combat." He paused to swallow a bit too hard. "Something I wish I could say for my daughter."
Draco's face fell a little more and Gene furrowed his brow a bit. "I imagine I can't say it for you either," he added and Draco shook his head mutely in affirmation.
Hermione's father stared back out the windshield and frowned. "It's been difficult for me," he said, "trying to come to terms with a world so different from my own for the sake of my daughter. A world that puts deadly weapons into the hands of eleven-year-olds and expects them to fight... Difficult for me to let my daughter enter it and more difficult still to see that world try to destroy her because of me."
His hands gripped the steering wheel as he bowed his head. "Difficult," he continued, his voice tight, "to hear her screams in the middle of the night as she relives the nightmares that world has given her. To see the scars it's given her."
Draco raised his face at that and Gene nodded without looking at him. "Yes, we know about the scars. She's tried her damnedest to hide them, but we've seen…seen the lines….the lines someone decided she needed to wear for the rest of her life."
"Someone," Draco whispered. Gene looked sideways at him.
"Someone like you," he said very evenly.
Draco's fingers clawed down his Mark as he glared at it. "Someone like me," he agreed bitterly. He raised his left arm and presented the faded skull and snake. "Brotherhood," he said, "that's what they said it'd mean…what they told me."
Gene looked at Draco's face as he continued.
"Loyalty," Draco nearly spit out, "and fear and pain…and death."
He paused to inhale a steadying breath and then lowered his arm. When Gene said nothing, he leaned forward and tugged up the leg of his jeans. He straightened back up with his wand in hand.
"Did Hermione ever show you something called a Patronus charm?" he asked without meeting the eyes of the man next to him.
Gene shook his head. "I don't believe she has, no," he answered quietly, focused intently on the wand.
Draco watched his own fingers rub over the stick of ebony wood. "It's supposed to be one of the most difficult spells to cast," he said, "many wizards will go their whole life trying to do it and never succeed."
Draco lifted the wand. "May I?" he asked with a polite nod to it. Gene waved a hand.
"By all means," he said and Draco flicked his wrist in a precise movement.
"Expecto Patronum."
The silvery-blue octopus was produced at once and glided forth with ease.
"My word," Gene breathed out as he watched the wispy animal crawl lazily through the air.
Draco smiled at it as the very presence of the thing seemed to alleviate the tension and dark tone of the conversation. "I shouldn't be able to make one. In our world it's considered common knowledge that Death Eaters can't produce a Patronus. It requires happiness, you see, pure happiness to be cast. One must think a truly happy thought as they recite the incantation for it to work."
He sighed as he watched Gene stare in awe at the octopus that was wrapping its tentacles around the steering wheel.
"Hermione knew me, saw me at my worst as a Death Eater…and she still…" he choked up a little and Gene looked back at him. Draco closed his eyes as he calmed himself and then opened them again.
"She still had faith in me. Didn't even think twice about teaching me how. I got it on the second try," he finished with an appreciative look at the magical cephalopod he'd made.
"It's an awe-inspiring thing," Gene noted and Draco released the spell. The octopus dissolved into nonbeing as he stowed his wand at his leg once more.
"No," Draco said, shaking his head, "no, what is awe-inspiring is how I am able to produce it."
"Your happy thought?" Gene asked solemnly.
Draco nodded as he rubbed at his Mark again. "My happy thought: That a woman I've wronged in more ways than I care to admit, a beautiful, clever, strong woman like Hermione would…and did give me a second chance."
He turned then and looked Gene in the eyes. "I don't deserve your daughter. I never will. But she is very literally my happiness and, if she lets me, I will live my life making sure she has everything that she deserves in both your world and ours. And I can say with certainty, sir, that I will go to my grave loving her."
Gene stared back at him without comment and then nodded once before turning to face forward again. He put one hand to the steering wheel and used the other to turn a small lever on the polished wood dash.
"Push that silver button, Draco," he ordered kindly, pointing to the starter, "and let's see how Old Claire's feeling today."
Draco gave him a small, lopsided smile and leaned over to push the button. The car started with a joyful sounding rumble.
- 18
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