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Murphy's Law	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 3213 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
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I couldn't resist uploading a bit more for this story so soon. I would like to thank StrongHermione, Dramione-Loving-Ravenclaw, I Was BOTWP, and Tilly90 for leaving me some hilarious stories on my facebook page to draw inspiration from. I asked for some date disasters to use in this story, and these ladies did NOT disappoint! I still have one more I'm going to use, but not till the next one... hehe... Couldn't have done it without them! For their sake, I won't say which situation belongs to who, but they know. ;D
Light, you haven't read the last bit yet, and I'm going to keep it that way until it's posted. Surprises are best, yes?
~A.
~*~Nothing in Draco's performance around Hermione Jean Granger would ever flow so fluidly again.~*~
First Date:
Their first date was a disaster. The reservations Draco had made at Madam Mystiques in Diagon Alley were lost by some bawdy hostess with far too much breast and not enough brain. It didn't help when Draco threw around his family name, as the manager of the establishment was a muggleborn with strong loathing against former Death Eaters. Once Hermione had convinced Draco to 'let it go', she took him to her favorite deli around the corner, where they ate roast beef on rye and toasted butterbeers. Little did Draco know, however, that he was highly allergic to mayonnaise. The food had never come up before in his daily digestion, and for the next hour, he found himself with a nasty case of hives and an irritable bowel that kept him in the bathroom for longer than socially acceptable. Drained, itchy, and dehydrated, he sat defeated on the bench outside the deli, his face red from embarrassment as Granger sat down next to him.
"So much for a romantic evening," he grumbled, shooting back the allergy potion she'd purchased for him while in the loo. He could already feel the effects take hold as his chest became less itchy and considerably less red.
Next to him, he heard her giggle. "You were trying to romance me?"
"I... "
"So this was a date, then?"
"You didn't know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he shot her a look somewhere between humiliation and disbelief. She held the facade for a moment before laughing some more and patting him on the arm.
"I had an inkling…"
"Yes, well, shot that to bits, didn't I?"
He felt the sweet press of her soft lips against his cheek. "It wasn't all that bad. Honestly, I've had worst first dates."
"Have you?"
"No."
They both laughed before Draco found himself upchucking into the rose bushes next to the bench.
First Supply Run:
The next few dates weren't terrible -until they were. So far, he'd managed to spill hot soup into her lap, trip on the stairs and nearly plant his face directly in her cleavage, and by the third date, he'd torn a hole in his trousers- in the crotch. Nothing a simple hemming charm couldn't fix, but it couldn't take back the humiliating sound of the infamous RIIIIIIIP. Somehow, she'd let it slip on the first date that she was scared of flying, to which Draco took it upon himself to get her over the fear. Which would have been all well and fine, except she was fighting him tooth and nail on everything from the safety gear to how to best mount a broom, two months later.
"I know what I'm talking about, Granger," he said stubbornly, "Slytherin seeker, remember?"
"Yes, and Harry was the Gryffindor seeker, and he always mounted the broom this way."
"Are you really going to take flying advice from some novice flyer who happened to be lucky when he first picked up a broom? Or are you going to listen to someone who's been trained how to properly fly since he was five?"
"I'd just assume take the advice from someone who's won a few tournaments."
Draco snarled under his breath, marched right up behind her, and placed his hand over hers, directing it to its proper place on the broomstick. A sudden rush of adrenaline kicked in his veins when he realized just how close he was to her and how heavenly her hair smelled, like apples and vanilla. It took everything in him to concentrate and steady himself, pressing himself just a tad too close to be considered 'proper' -not that he cared, really. Granger's body heat radiated off her back in waves, tickling his chest and tightening his trousers in the process-
"Damn it," he heard her mutter.
"Hmm? Something wrong?"
"It's… well, I… I, um," she turned around, nearly toppling over her own broom so that Draco caught her around the middle and cradled her in a seductive dip. His nose rested against hers, and he was thought about going in for the kill when she said, "I've started."
"Started?" he raised an eyebrow, utterly confused. "You haven't even kicked off of the ground."
"No. Not what I - I mean… Aunt Flow has come to town."
"Aunt Flow?" he still didn't get it. "Why do I care what your muggle Aunt does in her spare time?"
"No. Draco -I-"
"-You called me Draco."
A blush crawled up her cheeks. "Yes. I did."
"I like it."
She smiled. "Great. -Now, as I was saying, I've started my time of the month- ahh!"
Draco nearly dropped her, catching himself at the last moment. "T-Time of the month?"
"My period, Draco. Yes."
This time, he didn't much like the sound of his own name. Not when it was in the same sentence with the word 'period.'
"OH." He thought about what to say. "I… congratulations?"
Granger rolled her eyes, untucking herself from his arms. "I'd love to celebrate another successful ovulation cycle, but, unfortunately, I didn't come prepared."
"Prepared?" Again, Draco didn't know what she was talking about. "It's not like you're off to duel or anything."
"Women need provisions, Draco. You know… pads. Tampons."
"Oh." This time, he paled. "I.. er… couldn't you just… conjure some up, or something?"
"It doesn't exactly work that way -not like the real thing."
"So… we need to get you… provisions…" he offered, his voice cracking an octave. It was the right thing to say, because her eyes lit up like fireflies, and she relaxed in posture.
"Yes."
"Where… um… would we do that, exactly?"
"Did your mother never teach you any of this?"
"Merlin's testicles, no!" he nearly laughed. "That sort of stuff -it isn't talked about in pureblood families."
"Oh." She shrugged. "It's normal amongst muggleborn families. And muggles."
"Is it normal to talk about it with dates?"
"No." Granger giggled nervously. "No, it isn't."
And even though he felt completely out of his element, squeamish and abandon of knowledge, he managed a smirk and draped his arm around her shoulder. "What's the protocol for boyfriends, then?"
"We haven't even kissed ye-" Hermione was shut up by a firm set of lips on hers, rendering her speechless.
First Love:
"Stop fiddling with your tie. You look handsome."
"Of course I do," he replied haughtily, "I'm a Malfoy, after all." Even still, he couldn't stop the fluster of anxiousness in his stomach as they approached the front door of a quaint, country home. Knock, knock, knock. What would Hermione's parents be like?
The door opened. "Hermione! Oh, Gerald, dear! Hermione's here!" A woman stood in the doorway, resembling an older, refined version of Hermione. Must be Helen, the mother. The man who came to stand at her side was tall, balding, and somewhat formidable in his khakis and sweater vest.
"This him?" he asked gruffly, eyeing Draco up and down.
"Daddy," Hermione scolded, "be nice."
"Draco!" Draco announced at once, jutting his hand out for them to shake. "I'm -er -you're… Draco Malfoy."
"I'm Draco Malfoy?" Gerald raised an eyebrow.
"No. I mean… I am. Um…" Draco waited for someone to take his hand, and, eventually, Hermione did, setting it down at his side again. Panic struck him like a lightning bolt, and he cleared his throat, looking for a topic of choice. He focused on the beautiful set of pearls around Helen's throat and put on his most soothing voice (which still shook), "Lovely pearl necklace, Missus Granger."
"Oh, thank you, dear. Gerald gave me it for our tenth wedding anniversary. Such a kind man, this Gerald." She patted her husband on the cheek, but looking at him, Draco couldn't see what on Earth she was talking about.
"Maybe I'll give Hermione a pearl necklace one day," he offered, trying to sound romantic, but all it got was a red-faced Gerald yelling at him about watching his perverted little mind and chasing him around the lawn.
It wasn't until later Draco realized there was a second meaning to 'pearl necklace', and it wasn't nearly as romantic. (Though, it did sound fun.)
*(*)*
"Your father is a complete sod," he said later, setting down at the edge of her bed in her childhood bedroom, holding a bag of frozen peas to his eye -not because Mister Granger had managed to hit him in his fury, but because Draco had accidentally ran into a branch in the process of running away. After Hermione had fixed the situation, explaining Draco's upbringing and how he wouldn't know he was being cheeky, Gerald had calmed down enough for Helen to offer Draco something frozen to take the swelling down. Hermione managed to usher them away into her old bedroom for some privacy, while Gerald took to the study to read and to ruminate.
"My father's simply… protective."
"Barbaric, more like."
"Oh, come now. Lean back." Hermione pushed him to lean back against the pillows, climbing on top of him. Draco didn't mind the way she straddled his hips.
"Hermione, your parents are right outside…"
"Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm just checking your eye." She pried the frozen pea bag away from his face and looked him over. "Swelling's gone down. I could do a spell if you'd-" she stopped when his hand curled around her bum, giving it a light squeeze. "-like."
"Healer Granger, come to take care of me…" Draco licked his lower lip, taking the pea bag out of her hands and tossing it to the floor. "I love it." With a soft hand, he traced down her cheek with his palm, loving the way she leaned into his touch. Nervousness bloomed inside of him, and he gulped, wondering if this would be the right time to say it. "Hermione… I-"
The bed gave a large groan, and, without notice, caved in the middle and split in two, sending Draco, Hermione, and the mattress down to the floor. BOOM! CRASH! The noise was monumental and destructive.
To make matters worse, Helen and Gerald came bursting in the door, fearing for their daughter's life only to find the bed broken and her sprawled on top of her boyfriend in the most compromising of positions.
"I… this isn't what it looks like-" Draco began, staring at the wrathful eyes of Gerald Granger. "The bed just… broke. We weren't -Merlin, don't give me that look!"
"I want him out of my house -yesterday!" and with that, Gerald tore out of the room, his consoling wife on his heels.
"Fuck…"
"Don't worry about him," Hermione said, as if the bed breaking was no big deal, "I'll have a word with him."
"A word? Looks like I'll need to brew myself an entire cauldron of liquid luck just to make it out of the front door in one piece."
"Why do you care so much what my father thinks?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "This isn't the Draco I know."
"Yes, well," he grumbled, "the Draco you knew wasn't in love before."
Hermione shifted on his lap, stoic. "What?"
"Are you hard of hearing, too? I said I love you, you insufferable-" but he didn't get to finish the sentence because Hermione had tackled him against the broken bed in a flurry of unbridled kisses.
First Rate Klutz:
"Draco, hurry up! We're going to be late for the play!"
"Bollocks the play. If I wanted to watch a bunch of dramatic wizards and witches perform, I'd sit through one of my family reunions."
"Oh, come on," Hermione begged, bouncing up and down on her heels. "It'll be fun!"
"Fun. Do you realize, every time we go out, bad things happen?"
"That isn't true."
Draco took a seat in the armchair behind him, crossing his arms. "I'll have you know, it's so accurate it hurts. -my arse, my stomach, my eye, your bed…" he gave a timid sigh and put his face in his hands. "It's like anything that can go wrong, will."
"Murphy's Law."
"Who?"
"It's a muggle phrase. No one knows who actually coined it, but there is speculation-"
"-Get to the point, Hermione."
"Murphy's Law states that anything that could happen will probably, and most certainly, happen at one point or another. But it really is a confirmation bias, simply because the only reason anyone takes notice of something and uses Murphy's law is when it actually goes wrong."
"You've lost me."
"Take… flying a broomstick, for example. Hundreds of people do it all around the world at once, but you'd only notice it as a problem if it came and smacked you in the face."
"Well, of course. Anyone would."
"So you'd blame the broomstick flyer, even though, to the broomstick flyer, you yourself are the anomaly in his day."
"What's your point?"
"My point is, it's all about perspective. If you look for the bad, of course, it will show up." She extended her hand out to him. "Now, come. I wish to be taken to the play."
"Alright," he said, playfully grabbing her and pulling her to him. Unfortunately, the pull was too strong, and as she crashed into him, sending them both tumbling back, along with the chair. Draco tried grabbing Hermione around the waist, but it didn't stop her cheek, shoulder, and nose from scraping along the carpet as the back of the chair hit the floor with a graceless clack!
"Owwwww…"
"Shit, Hermione, are you alright?"
When Hermione leaned up, she had rug burns where her skin came into contact with the carpet. There were tears in her eyes, but she played it off quickly, sighing, "It's alright. That's what I get for feeling pretty tonight." She touched the tip of her nose and winced. "Happen to have any Dittany lying around?"
Draco gulped. "Erm, I used the last of it this weekend when I skinned my elbow roleplaying with you and fell off the bed."
"Lovely." Hermione pried herself up to stand, wiping away tears of, no doubt, pain. "I have some pain numbing salve in my bag… I'll just go and fetch it."
"Hermione-" Draco started, scrambling up to stand as well to catch her hand before she got too far away, "let's skip the play, yeah?"
"I'll be damned if we're skipping it."
"But your face-
"What's wrong with my face!?"
They both knew the answer to the question, but Draco was a smart enough man to know better than to answer truthfully. He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed. "You look stunning."
"Damn right I do. Besides, looks aren't everything…"
"But you are stunning," he said, "scrapes or no scrapes."
To his relief, she grinned at him, blushing like a strawberry and lighting him up like the sun she was. It was then he realized how it wasn't just him she lit up, but his world as well. No matter any of the bad that happened, she still managed to smile.
Although the smile was short lived when they arrived outside of the theater for Hermione to be teased about her and Draco getting too rowdy during their sexual escapades -eventually, they both stopped trying to convince the others what actually happened and went with it. It sounded better than what happened in reality anyway.
One more chapter to go!
Lots of love
~A.
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Murphy's Law