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The Guest	By : Ayan Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7090 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

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Title: The Guest

Rated: M

Summary: Death Eaters are on the hunt to
kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in
Hermione Granger’s home.

Chapter 2

It was a big mistake. No, it was the worst mistake he had ever
made. What in the world made him open the door? He wondered as he repeatedly
blinked. He had two reactions to the sight before him. One was a natural
reaction any male species would have and the other was a personal reaction. It
wasn’t everyday he would come across a view of a woman, so exposed. And
it also wasn’t everyday he saw Hermione Granger, topless.

He mentally cursed Merlin because the natural reaction he
just received was noticeably standing erect through his very loose boxers. Of
course, a certain bushy haired woman would not notice such things when she,
herself, was in a horrible disposition. With her back half bent, face
completely pale, eyes wide and glistening, Draco almost –if not at all-
thought she was not bad to look at. She may be a muggleborn but at least, her
body was womanly. His male instincts would have wanted him to continue studying
his new discovery but Granger finally came into function.

Swiftly, she grabbed her t-shirt off the floor and covered
her front from view. Her pale skin grew terribly red as her next reaction left
Draco staggered. The white towel she had found for him was in his face quicker
than a flying buldger. As he pulled the towel down from his face, her long
slender legs moved across the room in hastily speed, pushing him back with her
free hand and slamming the door very rudely on his face. Draco stood in the
dark hall, alone and confused. Who
was she to react in such a way? It wasn’t like he asked for her to be
half-naked. She was the one who went off to fetch him a towel. He was a Malfoy
and he didn’t like being kept waited. Patience was not one of his virtues
and of course, so he took the matter into his own hands.

But did he regret what he saw? Not at all, he was a man of
course. And men couldn’t hate stumbling a cross such a show. He
wasn’t exactly happy about it but this could come to his advantage in the
near future. With a small snide grin, Draco peered down to the towel in his
hand. His mind held on the image though, her breasts were not the least bit bad
to look at. He had always thought
bras would make women’s’ features slightly saggy. But not her; they
were full, firm and…perky?

“Shit, I do need a shower,” he thought as he
noticed he was still slightly erect.

Without a second to waste, Draco curtly moved across the
small hall way to the very small bathroom. He rolled his eyes, if he was going
to be stuck with Granger; the least she could have done was purchase a better
place to call a home. He was not use to small appliances, small rooms, or small…anything.
But what could he do about the circumstances? Draco slipped out of his sweat
shirt lazily and stared at the mirror. He had a few faint marks across his left
chest, in close proximity to his heart. His angry face had softened in memory
of how the scars got there or how it felt getting it. He could never explain
how he felt about anything anymore but he knew one thing for sure. He hated it.

Hatred towards his life was –in his opinion-
incomparable. Who would have thought his life would shift so drastically in a
matter of two years? One minute spending his time relaxing in his castle-like
mansion and the next, suffocating in a small apartment –if you can call
it that- of the last person he thought he’d communicate with after
Hogwarts. Communication to him did not necessarily mean a direct civil
conversation, it meant being within eye distance. And Draco Malfoy did not want
to be in any distance whatsoever with those he blamed for the hell of a life he
lived.

It felt like yesterday, when he attended his
father’s court hearing. Charges against his father were so many that the
panel judges did not bother with listing them. It was beyond evident to the
prosecutors and the Wizarding community that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater.
No sane person could disagree to that, not even Draco himself. The thought
alone was repulsing. His father, the man who taught Draco to think, breathe and
be just like himself was being placed in prison. Draco clearly remembered the
jolt that swept through his veins as he fought back tears. There was so much
likeness between his father and himself that he was surprised they didn’t
prosecute him as well. It was that moment that Draco realized something.

He was on his own, besides having his mother stringing
along. He was left to defend himself and his family name. Left to continue on
the legacy his father had forcefully placed upon him. And Draco was anxious. It
was the same freedom and power that placed Lucius in this very situation in
front of many disdained eyes.

Slowly he came back to reality from the creaking of the
floor boards outside the bathroom. For a split second he wondered if Granger
was checking up on him to see if he had really went off to shower. He would
have loved to see her reaction if he suddenly decided to leave and not return.
Certainly Mad-Eye Moody would have her head for not being on guard. That shall
teach them a lesson to leave it to a girl to keep him ‘safe’. Even
if he wanted to leave and do as he pleased, he would never get anywhere far
wandless. In a helpless sigh, he continued to undress. He turned on the faucet
and when the temperature was right, he entered the shower. Water tickled his
skin as he closed his eyes remembering that final night his father was being
taken away to Azkaban.

He remembered watching the finale of the trial, remembered
his father giving his only son one last meaningful look. ‘Continue the
legacy, do not mess up,’ it screamed at him. Draco did not dare break eye
contact as his father who was finally carried away by two Dementors into a door
behind the judge panel. Draco remembered coming up with a conclusion that night
as his mother and him went home silently. He was going to have to change things
around in order not to end up in the very same predicament. But it was just a mere
thought, not really much determination went through afterwards because he spent
his whole summer of his sixth year helping his mother fight through the anger
and humiliation, not the loss of a loved one but for dignity.

Suddenly a jet of cold water sprinkled his skin and the
shock it left made him jump back, slip on the wet floor and bang his head
against the white tile wall. He lay there for about a minute, watching
splotches of black move in circles in front of his eyes. It luckily
didn’t give him a concussion but it left him dazed for a few more minutes
when the water began to completely loose its substance of heat. Draco cursed as
he sat up. Leave it to Granger to have a muggle faucet that doesn’t have
hot water for more then ten minutes. What happened to her magic? Was she
completely a muggle outside of Hogwarts? Draco rolled his eyes because he be
damned to care. All he wanted was to get out of the shower and complain to her
the moment he laid his eyes on her.

Draco grabbed the towel he was given and wrapped it around
his waist then cursed. He didn’t even get to have a proper shower because
of her damn water in her damn apartment. Angrily, and stupidly, he stepped out
of the bathroom, walked down the hall and banged on her bedroom door. Hermione
opened the door with a glint in her eyes and a visible smirk.

“Hello, Malfoy.”

Draco suddenly caught on. She must have hexed the water
when she was lurking outside the bathroom door. Grasping this Draco replied
sourly, “Don’t you dare hello me. You casted a spell on that bloody
water, haven’t you? I could have died in your shower! And, I assure you,
I do not want to die in your hell of an apartment let alone your shower!”

“Malfoy, now don’t you think you’re a
being a tad bit juvenile?” Hermione said calmly. “I would never hex
the water to become suddenly very cold. It wouldn’t be my style.”

Draco was very near maddening as he lifted his finger to
say something. And when he couldn’t think of anything, all his frustration
went into clenching and unclenching his other hand.

“Is something the matter?” Hermione asked in a
fake concerned voice. “You might want to dry off, wouldn’t want to
catch a cold, now would you?”

Draco finally found his voice and stared at Granger menacingly.
“If you think that you could get away with that Granger, think again.
Just because I have to slightly tolerate you does not mean I will allow you to
play games with me.” And with that, Draco stalled off into the living
room where his belongings remained.

He was still very much angry. But fighting back without a
wand wasn’t going to get him anywhere which was why he began to plot away
as he found himself a new pair of boxers to wear. By morning, he wanted to
leave Granger staggered even if it meant burning her apartment down while he
was at it.

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Authors Notes: Well, I’d like to thank
those who reviewed. It meant a lot. I’d like to also say a few things.
This story will not jump into sex and all its glory yet. I have to have something
like a foundation to work on for that to ever occur. Any questions about
Draco’s situation will be answered in the coming chapters bit by bit. And
I like to say something about a certain review I got. First off, thanks for the
heads up on my spelling error. It happens often when your mind is on the plot
and you’re writing quickly. Sometimes even missed when you edit and proof
read, but that doesn’t mean you could jump down my throat like I owe you
to spell and write well. This is just a Fanfiction, so flames are over done.
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The Guest