Some Blond Fool | By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 46885 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
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. |
Author’s note: This
chapter is a bit angsty and may or may not induce tears;
you’ve been warned. As I said before I’m
letting the muse do what she will, and she was evidently feeling a bit morose. Also, for those wondering about the final
pairing - don’t worry, this story is categorized under Draco/Hermione
for a reason. Lucius
is just an extra added bonus. I love his
character, love to write him, and wouldn’t mind playing relationship charades
with him someday. *cough*
On with the show.
She didn’t have any time to wonder
how Ginny had gotten into her flat. She
was ambushed as she opened the door; Ginny’s face appeared, hard and
uncompromising, and the redhead nearly pulled her arm out of the socket as she
propelled her inside.
“What in
the hell are you thinking?” Ginny nearly shouted.
“Can you
give me five minutes, Ginny?” she responded caustically.
“I’ve been owling you all day!
I even called you on your phone!”
“I wasn’t
here and the phone wasn’t with me.” She
held up her shopping bags.
“What have
you been buying, hashish?” Ginny demanded.
“Because this thing with Malfoy
is insane. You could only do it
under the influence of a very strong drug!”
“I haven’t done anything. He kissed me.
Big deal.”
“You let
him kiss you! Hermione, he’s a complete turd, in case you forgot.”
“I didn’t
forget.” She opened the window and
ducked a veritable flock of owls. “But
he’s not a turd.
Not anymore.”
The redhead
crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah,
you mentioned that in your letter.”
“Don’t you
trust me?”
“Of
course,” Ginny said crossly.
“It’s a
very long story. I’ll tell it to you if
you don’t interrupt,” Hermione
warned. And though she agreed, Ginny
interrupted – six times – and ninety minutes later, she had finally heard it
all.
“So, if and
when you start seeing things in the paper about Lucius
and me, you know it’s all just make-believe.
But you can’t tell anyone.”
Ginny shook
her head. “This is unbelievable. You’re telling me that the Malfoys – the Malfoys – want to help clear my idiot brother’s name?”
Hermione
shrugged. “They’re getting something out
of it. It makes both of them look
awfully good, former Death Eaters dating a muggleborn,
and they’ve been targeted by Skeeter, too. And I don’t really know why, but they don’t
seem to think that he cheated.”
“They’re
the only ones,” she snorted. “Mum isn’t
talking to him. Dad stares him down
every time he’s in the room. Fred and
George keep slipping their Endless Itching Powder into his shorts. Bill and Charlie both sent him nasty letters,
and Percy told him the other day that he was a cock-up, right in front of Mum.”
Hermione
tried not to laugh. Even Percy,
pretentious Percy, was on her side. He
almost never resorted to profanity, so for him to call Ron a cock-up was the
rough equivalent of a sailor’s most colorful vocabulary.
“What about
you and Harry?”
“I’m not
talking to Ron, obviously,” Ginny tossed her hair, agitated. “I can tell that Harry wants to, but he isn’t
so he can stay in solidarity with you and me.”
“I’m sure
he’ll talk to him,” Hermione sighed.
“And don’t get mad at him when he does.
They are best friends, after all.”
Ginny
didn’t respond. She sat moodily on the
chaise, twisting a strand of her ginger hair.
“I don’t trust him, Hermione,” she said suddenly, her voice loud in the
large silence of the flat Ron and Hermione once shared.
“Harry?”
“No. Malfoy.”
Ah, that
was right. Ginny and Lucius
had a history. Indirectly, he had almost
caused her death during her first year of school. Though Ginny didn’t talk of it very often,
everyone knew it had been traumatizing.
Hermione couldn’t imagine the fear she must have felt, knowing at eleven
years old that there were gaps in her memory and something was desperately wrong. And to have been possessed by a fragment of Voldemort…perhaps that was why Harry and Ginny were so
inextricably drawn to one another. Only
they could understand what that was like.
“Then come
with me to see him tomorrow.”
Ginny
looked at her like she had sprouted an extra head. “I’m a blood traitor, Hermione. He’d hex me on the spot.”
“He has no
wand. And if he doesn’t care that a mudblood shows up at his flat, he won’t care about a blood
traitor.” Hermione reached out and took
Ginny’s hand. “Seriously, he has
changed. They’ve both changed. I wouldn’t even think to do this if they were
still the same as they were back then.”
Ginny’s
hand twitched within hers. “All right. But I’m
telling you, Hermione, if I…if he so much as breathes wrong, the game is
up. I won’t let you do it.”
Hermione
did not bother to tell Ginny that she would do what she wanted; it would only
start a fight. She understood her
friend’s protectiveness and appreciated it.
If Lucius handled himself
the way he had the last two days, Ginny would come away as mystified but pleasantly
surprised as she was. He would resent
the unannounced visit, to be sure, but it had to be done.
“Where are
we going?” Ginny asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Where we discussed last night.”
“Don’t we
have to floo?”
Hermione shook her head. That was it; Ginny had to follow her in
confused silence. Hermione’s mind
flipped and flopped with anxiety.
Perhaps she was doing this too quickly.
Just because Lucius had been temperate with
her didn’t mean Ginny’s addition wouldn’t cause him to regress into an utter
bastard. Ginny wouldn’t give him an easy
go of it, either. If she knew the
youngest Weasley, she would glower at him the entire
time and make as many loaded comments as possible. Ginny was quite good at provocation when she
wanted to be. She could only hope Lucius was equal to the task. And really, if he couldn’t handle one angry
witch, he wasn’t the man she thought he was.
Not that
she had any idea of what kind of man he was anymore. What a
fine mess, she thought to herself. Ron and Skeeter
have pushed me this far, that I’m allying with the Malfoys
and bringing Ginny to visit…
Before she
knew it, they were outside his flat. The
window two stories up was open, the room that was probably his office. She thought about whistling or calling out,
but he might not be in there and she was interested to see how he would do with
no warning. Though he had been quite
magnanimous the last two days, he had acted upon a few of the myriad
opportunities to embarrass her, and now she had a way to discompose him in
return.
She could
feel Ginny’s eyes boring into the back of her head as they climbed the
stairs. She rang the bell and tried to
tamp down on the nerves that were creeping into her stomach. Damn this man and the things his presence did
to her stomach!
“Are you
trying to tell me that Malfoy lives here?” Ginny
hissed. “In muggle London?”
“No, Gin, I
made you walk all the way here just so we could use a special fireplace.” Ginny scowled, obviously affronted by her
tone. Oh, she would have to watch the
sarcasm. Malfoy
had already brought a lot more of it to the surface than usual.
A
scrabbling noise filled the broad hall.
It was a sound that Hermione recognized as claws skidding on hardwood
floors; the dogs were coming to the door.
One of them barked a moment later.
“Shut it,
Oberon,” his voice sounded from just behind the door, only firm enough to quiet
the dog. Then the metallic turn of a
lock rang out and he pulled the door open.
“Hermione.” He hid
his surprise well. He was quite the
actor; already he’d adopted her first name, because it would certainly look
weird if he referred to his girlfriend as anything else. “And…Miss Weasley. Or
is it Mrs. Potter?”
“Still Miss
Weasley, thank you,” Ginny said abruptly.
“Right,” he
said stoically. “If you wouldn’t mind, I
need five minutes. I wasn’t aware I’d
have guests this morning.”
“Sure, by
all means clear up the remains of whatever sick ritual you were doing.”
“Ginny!”
Hermione whispered sharply. Ooh, she was
really going to let him have it, wasn’t she?
He remained calm, supremely so, even when one of the dogs, eager to get
out and greet the guests, took one of his legs out from under him. He caught himself quickly and breathed an
exasperated sigh.
“Hermione,
would you mind taking them for a stroll?”
“Of
course,” she said quickly, wanting to disband the tension. He handed over a pair of leashes, held the
dogs still long enough for her to clip them on, and then let them go. It was a good idea; even Ginny couldn’t help
but smile at the way the dogs danced around, unable to contain their
excitement. Hermione offered the loop of
one of the leashes to Ginny with a hesitant smile.
Lucius had already closed the door and both of them were
being pulled down the stairs by the thrilled pups.
“All
right,” Ginny said a few minutes later.
They had reached the sidewalk and were now moving along at a good pace,
the dogs sniffing everything within range.
“So he’s got cute dogs.” Titania pounced at a wrapper that blew across their path a
moment later and they both laughed. “Ok,
really cute dogs,” Ginny amended.
Hermione
gave her a sideways glance. “Does that
really take him up a notch?”
“Well, they
don’t look timid or mistreated. It means
he must care about them. That’s a step
up from caring about nothing but himself.”
Hermione
shook her head. Ginny was sometimes
swayed by the strangest things. They
crossed the street, stopped to let some children pet the dogs, and then began
to meander back towards his flat.
“Gin,”
Hermione said cautiously, “you know if you push him far enough, he’ll respond
the way you want him to. It isn’t really
fair.”
“This is a
man who did everything he could to disparage my family and nearly killed me,
not to mention you and everyone you
care about, once or twice. I’m sorry if
forgiveness doesn’t come easily,” she huffed.
“As far as I’m concerned his ego can take a beating or two as penance.”
Hermione
sighed as they approached the flat again.
This was going to be ugly. When
he opened the door, Lucius’s face said that he knew
it; Ginny didn’t see it, but his mask slipped as Hermione brushed past
him. She wondered how many times he had
had to endure this self-flagellation.
“Would you
ladies care for breakfast?” he asked neutrally once they were settled in the
living room.
“Did you
poison it?” Ginny speared.
“No,” he
replied, calm. “Do you want me to?”
She glared
at him, temporarily defeated. Hermione
hid a smile.
“We ate,
thank you,” she said, trying to stay upbeat.
The tension was filling up the room like smoke.
“Well, I
know you didn’t come just to walk my dogs and turn down my food,” he said. His foot was twitching every so
slightly. “So please enlighten me.”
Hermione
chose her words carefully. “Ginny has
to…approve.”
“Approve
what?”
“Of our…ah…relationship.”
Hermione resisted the urge to use finger-quotes.
He sat back
in his chair and nodded. His face was
tense for a moment, and she was sure that ten different thoughts and emotions
were flickering beneath the surface, but he revealed nothing.
“Very well. Miss Weasley, you may examine whatever you want in here in order
to convince yourself that I am not going to harm Hermione.”
“I know
you’re not stupid enough to leave anything out,” Ginny spat. “It’s not your flat I’m interested in. It’s you, Malfoy.”
His chin
lifted almost imperceptibly. “I am
sure,” he said, his voice a little tight, “that
Hermione has informed you that I do not have a wand. I can do no magic. Effectively, I am a squib. She is not in any danger from me.”
“Men have
other weapons,” Ginny almost snarled.
“I have no
ill intentions toward her virtue, if that is what you’re worried about,” he
said coldly. “Besides,”
and here his eyes narrowed in a way that warned Hermione that something
particularly cruel was coming, “if I had desired her, I could have had her ten
times while she was drunk and incoherent in my guest room.”
Hermione’s
mouth fell open. What was he thinking? And why did she feel insulted at that?
Her mind had zeroed in on the part where he effectively stated that he
didn’t desire her and taken serious offense.
What the hell? Something was
wrong with her if that was all she could hear in a malicious declaration like
that! She cast a forceful look at him,
scowling. It took a moment for the spite
to fade from his face, but when it did she saw that he knew he had gone too
far.
Ginny pulled her wand. “You son of a bitch!”
Hermione
stood up quickly, grabbing Ginny’s arms.
It took a lot of strength to restrain her. Ginny was livid. At last she managed to wrestle her back down
onto the couch.
Lucius took a breath, knowing full well that he’d nearly
gotten his face hexed off. “I am
sorry. When you back a snake into a
corner, Miss Weasley, eventually it will
strike.” He swallowed. “Lions are not so different.”
“They’re
very different, you asshole! You son of
a…!” Ginny’s voice cracked suddenly and
tears began to stream down her face. She
struggled free of Hermione and stood, her chest heaving and her wand pointed at
Malfoy. “Do
you know what he did to me? The Tom Riddle inside that book?”
“Ginny,
please,” Hermione whispered. She had
never seen her friend like this and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what
Ginny was referring to.
“No,” Lucius said softly.
“I don’t know.” He was pale and
his hands fidgeted tellingly in his lap.
“It didn’t
matter that he was just a horcrux. It didn’t matter that he was just some
facsimile of a real person,” Ginny whispered, her voice low and hard. “That didn’t stop him from taking my virtue.”
Hermione
felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Ginny had never said a thing. Not to Harry, not to her, not to her family,
no one. Oh, poor Ginny. It was just another reason to hate Voldemort, heaped on top of a million others. Even now, six years gone, he was still
twisting their hearts in their chests.
Lucius’s eyes slipped closed. He was fighting for control. He looked genuinely upset, like he wanted to
jump out of his skin with rage and regret.
Ginny advanced on him, her hand trembling as she aimed her wand right
between his eyes.
“It was
because of you,” she enunciated. “You
slipped me that book. You might as well
have done it yourself, Malfoy.”
“I didn’t
understand what it was,” he said, emotions half-disguised with roughness. “I didn’t know that it was a piece of
him. Please,” he seemed to be pleading
more with himself than with her, “if I had known, I
would never have given it to a child. I
was not that terrible of a person, even then.”
“And now?”
she was less than a foot away from him, her wand an inch from his face. “What are you now?”
He shocked
both of them by slipping from the chair to his knees before her.
“A contrite man,” he said softly,
“who knows that his contrition comes too late.”
He didn’t bow or prostrate himself
before her, nor did he ask for forgiveness, because they all knew there was
none to be had. But there was something
else. There was validation. And now, on his knees, his face unshuttered, his eyes struggling to contain what might have
been tears, he was validating Ginny Weasley.
Hermione
knew she was crying. She was numb with
pain. Pain for Ginny most of all, but
shockingly there was a fair amount of pain for Lucius,
as well. She could see in his face how
he loathed the knowledge that he had contributed to things like this. The crucible of failure and guilt had
catalyzed him into something human.
A moment
later Ginny’s wand fell from her hand and she crumpled. Hermione would never understand the dynamics
of two wounded souls; Malfoy moved forward to embrace
her and she didn’t fight it. She seemed
to sink into him, her body shaking with sobs.
He pressed her gently to his chest, cocooning her in long arms, and let
his cheek rest against the crown of her head.
They were a strange vision, the platinum and fire of their hair
mingling.
Time had
lost meaning. Hermione was frozen to the
chair, crying as hard as Ginny, crying for everything, every pain and heartache
she had ever felt. But slowly, slowly
the festering, diseased atmosphere of anger that had filled the room before
filtered out into the languid summer air.
The light was dimming; a storm was moving in.
Lucius and Ginny remained very still. His eyes were closed, his face exhausted and
painfully alert at the same time.
Ginny’s sobs were calming. No one
moved or spoke until Ginny got the hiccups.
Shifting carefully, Lucius rose with Ginny in
tow and then deposited her on the couch.
He
disappeared into the kitchen, dazed. A
minute later he returned with two glasses of water. Ginny took one, gulping it gratefully. It neutralized her hiccups quickly. The other glass he held out to Hermione. She could only look at him, still stunned by
the whirlwind.
“Right,” he
said hoarsely. “Firewhiskey.”
He moved
back toward the kitchen, taking the water with him. Hermione stood on rubbery legs and joined
Ginny on the couch, spooning against her smaller form. She was dimly aware that the wind was
beginning to blow strongly, billowing the curtains and
casting leaves torn from trees in through the windows. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
She looked
toward the kitchen. From here she could
see half of him. He was leaning against
the counter, almost willing it to hold him up.
As she watched, he picked up the bottle of firewhiskey
and poured a small amount into one glass.
He moved it toward the second and thought better of it; instead, he
lifted the bottle to his lips and took a resolute swig. There were few situations that warranted a
drink right out of the bottle, but this was one of them.
In spite of
her recent overindulgence, Hermione took the proffered firewhiskey
and tossed it down. It burned terribly,
but it cleared her head, cleaving a path through all the emotional fuzz. His long gulp had probably served to do the
same. However, when she looked over at
him he looked as though he could barely move.
Rain began
to come down, rattling its percussionistic symphony
on the roof. He tried to rouse himself.
“The window
in the study…the computer…”
“I’ve got
it,” she said.
When she
closed the window, her hip bumped the laptop.
The bump caused the screensaver to deactivate, displaying a blank
desktop and one stark white instant messager
box. It was the screenname
that made her look twice.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:03:52): Father?
DracoD0rmiens
(11:14:03): is everything all right?
The cursor
blinked. She looked at the clock. It was 11:17.
It couldn’t be…but who else would have that screenname? Maybe Draco knew more
about muggle technology than she thought.
Hermione
glanced out into the living room. She
smiled sadly; both Lucius and Ginny were dead
asleep. She arranged herself in front of
the laptop. Lightning flashed outside,
and she knew she should turn off the computer, but the allure of talking to Draco on instant messager was too
great.
She typed
and hit enter.
BedLAM (11:19:31): Draco?
The humor
and irony of Lucius’s screenname
was not lost on her. Bedlam – a
madhouse. L.A.M., his initials – although
she didn’t know what the A stood for.
And taken separately, bed L.A.M. – a subtle command that would probably
amuse him to no end. All in all, it was
the perfect alias.
DracoD0rmiens:
(11:19:58): No, it’s the witch-king of angmar
Hermione
stifled a laugh. Apparently Draco had gotten into some muggle
literature, as well.
BedLAM (11:20:14): It’s Hermione.
BedLAM (11:20:40): And I rather think you’re
more the Gollum type, myself.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:22:01): What are you doing on Poppa Malfoy’s
computer
BedLAM (11:22:54): Do you call him that to
his face
DracoD0rmiens
(11:23:10): are you kidding?
DracoD0rmiens
(11:23:22): seriously, what’s going on
BedLAM (11:23:55): had a bit of an
incident. I told Ginny Weasley about the plan, and don’t worry, she’s keeping it
secret, but she wanted to see for herself if Poppa Malfoy
could be trusted
There was a
long pause. Almost too
long. Then:
DracoD0rmiens
(11:27:19): I’m sure that went well
BedLAM (11:28:03): peachy keen. Where are you?
DracoD0rmiens (11:29:00):
Mykonos. It’s bloody hot.
BedLAM (11:29:04): Already? By the way, I had no idea you knew how to
deal with muggle technology, I’m impressed
DracoD0rmiens
(11:29:20): Dad insists it’s easier than owls and frankly he’s right. A computer can’t shit on you.
Hermione
had to stifle another laugh. She would
never have thought that talking to him like this would be so entertaining. Draco had
continued.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:30:15): and on this thing only the muggle
government can trace and read what you say.
No one of any importance in the wizarding
world can intercept it cause it’s just a signal
through the air or over a wire. I have
to say, muggles aren’t dumb.
BedLAM (11:30:30): that’s high praise coming
from you.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:33:08): so does everyone still have all their limbs and/or correct body
parts?
BedLAM (11:33:14): Yes. Find anything interesting in Mykonos?
DracoD0rmiens
(11:34:44): just a nude beach. Would be much more interesting if you were here.
She had to
read it three times to process it. When
she did, her eyes nearly fell out of her skull.
Was Draco flirting with her? Of course not. He was being facetious. Right?
BedLAM (11:35:50): you wish
DracoD0rmiens
(11:36:10): maybe I do
What was he
doing? She was utterly perplexed. Shaking her head, she typed:
BedLAM (11:39:36): very funny, Malfoy
His
response came quickly.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:40:12): I’m not being funny.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:40:19): I liked kissing you.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:40:21): I want to do it again.
But it’s hardly appropriate when you’re dating my father.
Her eyes
narrowed and she typed furiously.
BedLAM (11:40:39): see, you are being funny,
and it’s not working
DracoD0rmiens
(11:41:15): I am not.
DracoD0rmiens
(11:42:00): He likes you and you will fall victim to his charms.
BedLAM (11:43:50): you’re out of your gourd
DracoD0rmiens
(11:45:16): I’m not joking. I really
wish that I hadn’t had to switch places with Poppa Malfoy.
Hermione was perturbed. What the hell? Draco was insinuating
that they both liked her. That Lucius would
attempt to make this more than a charade.
Lucius was being nice enough but nothing in
his demeanor suggested that he wanted a real
relationship. He had effectively stated
only an hour before that he didn’t desire her.
Draco was off the mark. Was this even him?
BedLAM (11:45:49): Where is this coming
from? Why do you need hundreds of miles
and a computer screen to be honest and work up the courage to flirt with me?
Touche. The screen
was blank and cursor blinking for several minutes. She was beginning to think he had actually
left when he finally responded.
DracoD0rmiens
(12:01:09): because I hardly have the right to, from any distance
Hermione
chewed her lip. Well, this made some
things clearer.
BedLAM (12:03:51): now I understand why
you’re helping me…
DracoD0rmiens
(12:04:26): no, it’s not like that.
I’m not trying to get in your knickers or split you up from Weasley. I just
didn’t like seeing you unhappy.
BedLAM (12:05:13): you’re never going to talk
to me like this face to face, so why bother now?
DracoD0rmiens
(12:06:21): Some weird alignment of the stars, I guess. Can I say it all, though? Before I save your marriage and you spend the
rest of your existence with Weasel-by?
BedLAM (12:07:23): I thought I was going to
fall to your father’s charms…
DracoD0rmiens
(12:07:41): oh look who’s being funny now.
You will, believe me, but you won’t leave Weasley
for him. He won’t let you.
BedLAM (12:08:08): you certainly have all the
answers don’t you
Pause. Draco wanted to
‘say it all’? Hermione was, whether she
wanted to admit it or not, waiting with a strange, buzzing excitement for the
things he was going to confess. Two
minutes later he began to type.
DracoD0rmiens
(12:10:35): what can I say, you’re beautiful. And smart.
And strong.
You could whoop my ass and once I stopped being afraid of that and
started admiring it, it was kind of hopeless.
Seeing you in that pub was like a revelation. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about
you since. It took all the willpower I
had not to kiss you while you were drunk because I knew you would sleep with me
if I did and that isn’t right. But that
was probably my only chance.
Hermione
felt faint. A strange feeling had begun
to coil inside her. It was the sensation
of being pulled in too many directions. The feeling of feelings
being strained. Her fingers moved
of their own accord, and she winced even as she typed the message.
BedLAM (12:14:02): who says it was your only
chance?
Author’s note 2.0: Would it be really messed up of me to
make this a Lucius/Ginny fic
also? I do like Harry and Ginny…but it
would be amusing if both Ron and Harry had their women plucked out from under
them by the Malfoys.
Let me know what you think, if you’re so inclined. R&R!
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