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Searching	By : avari20 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10921 -:- 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
- 1-Searching
- 2-Part I
- 3-Part II
- 4-Part III
- 5-Part IV
- 6-Part V
- 7-Part VI
- 8-Part VII
- 9-Part VIII
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: All hail the great JKR! She owns all of these characters except Hannah and Aniston.

Part III

For the next half hour neither spoke. Hermione concentrated solely on her work, and Draco�well, Draco was enjoying the moment. He leaned his back against the little fence and closed his eyes. The sun washed over him warmly, and the breeze tugged playfully at his white linen shirt while it brought him the sweet smells of nature. It was a beautiful spring day. Even in the walled courtyard there was grass so green it defied further description. Birds chirped while they flew lazily in the sky above, hoping to catch something Draco couldn�t see. When was the last time he had enjoyed Nature like this? No board meetings, no crowds, no curse, no messenger owls, just him and the plants and the open air?
He couldn�t remember. He couldn�t remember the last time he had been on a broom just to fly, or the last time he had spent one whole day on himself. Draco couldn�t even really remember what it was like to laugh anymore.
When had he become so unhappy?
This was a world far removed from the one he knew, not just in time but in rhythm. Things went slower here. Everyone took their time to enjoy themselves, because here death came more swiftly than in Draco�s world. Life was harder, and people aged faster because of it. The men and women here talked. They communicated in words and gestures. In the evening crowds gathered in the Great Hall for games and company, and Draco could see the camaraderie clearly. They were more connected to each other than Draco had ever felt with his entire family. Draco wanted to know what it felt like to be part of something like that. Part of a community. Part of a real family. Part of a world that somehow managed to breathe deep even in the face of life�s hardships, if only for a moment.
So he did. He inhaled, held the new air deep in his lungs, and then exhaled, letting the old worries and pain go with it. There was no curse, no obligations, no heartache. Just him and nature and Hermione.

Even if it was just for a moment.

~*~

He looked at ease, Hermione thought to herself, sneaking looks at the stranger in her garden. For the first time since he�d arrived he acted as though all was right in the world.
Hermione was no fool, despite what many people thought. She�d known that this man was not of this place, and she wasn�t talking about Scotland, either. It was obvious in every move he made, every curious look he cast, the clothes he�d arrived in. Heavens, in the way he�d arrived! The water below the castle held more secrets than she�d been privy to, it seemed.
She regarded him, making no attempt to hide her assessment. Never mind that he wasn�t looking at her. He seemed lost in the birdsongs that drifted to them. He was really very handsome. He reminded her of a poet, or a minstrel. The oversized shirt and trews belonged on that athletic body. They accented his trim hips and tightly muscled chest, which peeked through the loosened threads of the v-neck. He had a roguish look about him, though. His hair had was shaggy yet, strangely enough, structured. If she hadn�t known better, Hermione might have suspected that he wanted his hair to look like that.
He had a silver band in his left ear. Hermione had heard of the practice of piercing one�s ears, but never on a man. In only one ear, no less. It was small, but clearly visible. It certainly flaunted convention. She couldn�t help but wonder if he�d gotten the band for that very reason. He didn�t strike her as someone who wanted to blend in with the rest of mankind. He held himself with too much confidence, obviously at ease with being the center of attention.
The embodiment of a lover, Hermione decided. He was very good at projecting the image. Anyone else might have been fooled. But Hermione was not everyone else. She could clearly see the iron will, the strength, and the cold glint in his eyes that bespoke of experience in the art of war. This man could switch from lover to fighter in the blink of an eye.
He was dangerous, no matter what Hannah said. And Hermione was tired of games. She stabbed her cutting knife into the dirt and stood swiftly. The stranger started out of his reverie, grey-blue eyes instantly focusing on her. Hermione disregarded his surprise and got to the heart of the matter. �Why are you here?�
His brow furrowed. �I told you, I came to apologize-�
Hermione shook her head. �Not my garden, Stranger. Why are you here, at the castle? In Scotland? In this time?� Her eyes connected with his, delving in to discover his secrets. Draco felt locked into those brown depths, but felt no urge to pull away. �What are you looking for?� she demanded.
Draco straightened away from the fence, awareness vibrating through his body. She knew. She knew he was here for a reason. The silence that had been so comfortable a moment ago grew tense. Hermione didn�t move away when he took a step forward. In fact, she didn�t seem at all intimidated by the scowl he leveled at her. �What makes you think I�m looking for anything?� he asked, stalling his answer.
She raised her eyebrow. �Where do you think your clothes came from? Your meals?�
�Madga-� he stopped.
�And who,� she asked haughtily, �do you think sent Magda to you?�
Realization dawned. �You�ve been spying on me,� he said, a note of wonder in his voice. He looked at her with new respect.
�Of course,� Hermione snorted. Really, did he think she would just let a complete stranger have run of the castle without taking any precautions? �Ye didn�t answer my question, Stranger.�
He tried to look her in the eye when he answered. He really did! But his eyes kept slipping down her face to settle at her collarbone. A warm blush crept up his neck as he struggled with words. �I don�t know,� he ground out. Why was this so hard for him? He�d faced down Death Eaters and corporate raiders. Why was talking to this girl so much more difficult? �I don�t know what I�m looking for. I didn�t intentionally come here, and frankly, I�m not even sure how it happened.� He finally managed to make eye contact with her. �All I do know is that the key to getting home and getting on with my life is here somewhere.�
Hermione let the words flow over her, focusing in on his eyes. It didn�t matter what he said. What mattered was the emotion behind it. She could see the struggle for composure in the way his eyes flickered when he spoke. He was angry, but not with her. He acted like a man whose destiny had been wrestled out of his hands, and he was enraged by it. He was telling her the truth.
She knew, however, that he hadn�t told her everything. There was enough sincerity in his manner that she would let the matter rest for now. �Do you know anything about potions, Stranger?�
The abrupt change in subject threw him. He eyed her warily. �I know enough,� he admitted cautiously. Hermione nodded and turned to crouch in front of a patch of lavender. �Then stop lazing about and help me,� she tossed over her shoulder. She grabbed her knife again and set to her task.
For a moment Draco didn�t move. That was it? He stared at the back of her head in bewilderment. That was the extent of her questioning? �That�s all you�re going to say?! �Help me�?� He marched up to her and shuffled until he could see her profile. She didn�t look at him once. �Was there aught else you wanted to tell me?� she asked serenely.
He put his hands on his hips in consternation. �Well, no.�
�Then you�ll find another knife in the basket to your left.�
Well, wasn�t that a kick in the trousers? Draco couldn�t decide if she was crazy or just plain stupid, and told her so. It earned him nothing more than a quick smile and another order to lend a hand. Draco complied, frankly not sure what else to do. He knelt in the dirt on the other side of her row and began to cut. Once he got over the fact that he was actually doing manual labor for perhaps the second time in his entire life, Draco found himself relaxing. The smell of the earth on his hands was actually very soothing. �Where did you learn about potions?� he asked idly.
�My father. He loved working in the garden, studying each plant and developing new uses for them. My mother had no special aptitude for magic, but had the gift of foresight. Hannah learned all she knows from my father�s mother. Why so curious, Stranger?�
�Why do you call me Stranger?�
�It�s what you are, is it not?�
�But you say it like it�s my name. You can call me Draco, you know.�
�I can�but I will not.�
It didn�t seem to matter what era he met this woman in, Draco realized. She would always be the most stubborn woman he had ever met! �Why?� he asked, frustration building. Really, was his name that hard to say?
�I don�t know you.�
�But you�ll let me stay here in your home? That doesn�t make sense.� He smirked. �One might call it foolish, even.�
Hermione quirked an eyebrow. �Would you rather I tossed you out into the world, then? Or perhaps I should allow Conall to follow through with his plan and have you locked up in a room for the rest of your days.�
Draco had seen the looks Conall had been throwing him the last two days. He was sure Conall would be thrilled to have him out of the way. �I�m quite comfy in my present room, thanks. But that still doesn�t answer my question.�
�You are here because Hannah says that you pose no threat. I trust her judgment.�
�If I�m harmless, then surely using my given name will be no hardship.� There, he thought. Counter that logic! He of course was studiously ignoring the fact that there was very little logic in the entire argument.
�Not a hardship, but still not proper.�
�I hate you,� he told her.
�I know.�

~*~

Draco. She liked his name. She�d only said it aloud in the privacy of her room. It felt intimate somehow. Much too private to say in the light of day for all to hear. This man, for reasons she couldn�t fathom, made her heart beat just a little bit faster, her mind fog, and her thoughts slow. Hermione snorted to herself. Even when he was soaking wet and hell bent on running her down like a wee rabbit. Och, but her panicked flight had been embarrassing! But then, how often did men literally fall from the sky?
And he was special, like them. He had that same quality in his aura that Hannah did, an indefinable something that set those with magic apart from those without it. She didn�t have to hide from him. Hermione�s lashes lowered while she absently petted a leaf. She was really very lucky, she told herself. Her people were fully aware of what she and Hannah were. Many of their families had been serving hers since before the castle had come to be. But the outside world�..
Their father had once taken them to a fair. They had been six years old, truly excited at the possibilities. But they had been separated from their father for a few moments too long. People had cringed away for the two little girls who were identical in every way. �The Devil�s children!� villagers had hissed. They�d crossed themselves in fear. �The same face! Not normal. Black magic. Not a soul betwixt the two. Get away from me, spawn!�

Hermione shook her head to get rid of the memories. Shunned by the outside world for something they had been born with�and those people had barely scratched the surface. What might of happened if their father hadn�t found them? If Hannah had lashed out and set something else on fire by accident?
�Are you alright?� the man, Draco, asked abruptly. Hermione started, looking down to realize that she�d crushed the bloom in her hand. She tossed it away with a sigh. �I�m fine.� She needed a distraction. �Tell me about this Granger person.� Maybe that would turn her thoughts to lighter subjects. She moved her basket to her left and shifted over to the next row that needed her attention.
Draco casually picked a flower and fiddled with the petals. �Hermione Granger.� He let one of the petals drift away on the wind. �I went to school with her. They called her the smartest witch of our age, which was true. Which made me crazy,� he chuckled ruefully. �Which made picking on her my number one priority.� He looked up, his smile fading at the look on her face. It was a mixture of desperate hope and disbelief. �What?�
�School.�
Why was that the one word she focused on? His brow furrowed in confusion. �Yes, school. Hogwart�s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It�s one of the best in the world.� Before he�d finished speaking Hermione had surged to her feet and was coming at him so rapidly her skirts kicked up. He straightened up, unsure of what to do. She came to a skidding halt before him, but didn�t stay still. She moved back and forth like an agitated cat. She still had a small bouquet in her hand and now used it to point at him.
�You. You went to a school for people like us. Like you and me. And there�s more than one.�
Draco nodded. �Yes. There are schools in France, Brazil, Bulgaria- Would you stop waving that thing at me?� He batted the bouquet away in annoyance. She backed off obediently, and stood wringing the stems as if her life depended on it. �Do they- do they truly allow girls into these schools?� she asked. Her eyes were fixed on his right shoulder.
Understanding dawned. This Hermione lived in a time when women were rarely taught to read, much less invited to higher education. The concept of Hermione Granger, in any form, barred from learning and perhaps even the written word, was dumbfounding. He looked at her with a touch of sympathy. It must have been slowly killing Hermione all of her life. He gently removed the mangled plants from her death grip and tossed it aside. �Not only are they allowed, women teach at these schools,� he said, forcing a cheerful note into his voice. �There is this one professor that was the bane of my school existence. Her name was Minerva McGonagall�..�

~*~

He talked for over an hour. She listened with rapt attention, drinking in every word and savoring it. Draco followed her as they culled row after row. By the time they were finished the sun was setting, casting the castle in warm shadows that held none of the malice that Draco had grown used to. Both of Hermione�s baskets were overflowing. Draco reached down and took one, trying to ignore how right it felt to do something nice for her. They walked slowly back to the side door, unaware of the many eyes peeking at them through the windows.
�Ye say that every magical child receives a letter of invitation when they are ten and one,� Hermione said, shifting her basket from one hand to the other.
Draco assumed that meant eleven years old. �I�m pretty certain that�s how it works.�
Hermione�s brow furrowed in thought. �But if that�s true�then�why didn�t Hannah or I receive such a letter?� There was genuine hurt in her eyes. It was the million galleon question, wasn�t it? Draco swallowed hard. �I, uh-� Damnit, where had that loquacious lothario he�d been last week gone? �I don�t know,� he admitted sheepishly. He wanted to give her an answer that wouldn�t make her look like that. Like he�d crushed her hopes beneath his heel.
�Maybe I�m not good enough,� she said sadly. �Hannah�s the talented twin.�
�That�s not true, Hermione.� Why was he defending her? He�d never liked this girl, or rather her descendent. Oh, grow up, he snapped at himself. Stop letting the idiot teenager within do the talking. He swung around until he faced her. She nearly ran into him, but managed to stop before she smashed her little nose in his chest. She looked up in surprise when he poked her shoulder.
�Now see here, Hermione. So what if you didn�t receive a letter? So what if you�re a Squib? So what if Hannah can make things fly or catch on fire or do a jig? You are smart enough to complete dozens of potions from mere memory alone. You can take care of a castle, your sister, and any stranger that happens to pop out of thin air without breaking a sweat! And you�re crazy if you think that flashy tricks make someone better than you.� He fisted one hand on his hip and glared. �I don�t know why some bloody school didn�t send you a letter, but I do know that they made a very big mistake.�
Her mouth was open. She knew it, but she couldn�t seem to gather enough thought together to close it. Draco grunted, having said his peace and trying not to be to embarrassed about the sappier parts. �Now let�s get this inside and get something to eat. I�m starving.� He spun on his heel and jerked the door opening, leaving her behind for once. Still outside, a slow smile spread over Hermione�s face, growing until she practically beamed. Her eyes drifted up to the window she �knew� Hannah was watching from. �Men and their stomachs,� she chuckled before hurrying after him.

~*~

Hannah smiled as she turned away, gradually making her way down the hall. Ugh, this babe would be the death of her yet! Every day she got slower and slower. She grimaced and rubbed her back, thinking about all the other troubles that came with pregnancy. �Little blighter,� she said affectionately, this time rubbing her protruding belly. �I canna wait for you to get here.�
The baby kicked enthusiastically, startling a laugh out of her. �Aye, I�m sure you�re tired of that too little space as well.� A memory darted across her mind, dimming her smile considerably. �Your father wasn�t much for closed in places, either.� She sniffed, but quickly dashed away the tears that moisten her eyes. �None of that now, Hannah.�
It was the happiness she�d glimpsed in Hermione�s face that had made her so melancholy. She�d watched her twin smile and laugh for the better part of an hour, completely enthralled with the stranger�s words. Hannah had found herself drifting back down memory lane, when she and Duncan had first wed. A thousand years ago, it seemed.
Hermione and this stranger were connected. Hannah �knew� this deep inside. Connected how, she wasn�t sure, but she suspected that Draco of Nowhere was here for a reason other than the one that lurked in his soul. If she didn�t know any better, she thought with a smirk, she would think that Hermione and Draco were meant to fall in love.

~*~

To be continued�..

Author�s Notes:

I feel compelled to point out that if I had been completely historically accurate with this fic, then Draco and Hermione would not actually be able to communicate. I�ve landed Draco in a time where Scots frankly found it distasteful to speak English at all. Had he had the good luck to actually find someone willing to talk to him, poor Draco would have had to listen to Old English. We�re talking pre-Shakespeare, people. And we all know how bloody hard it is to read one of his works in its unedited entirety.

Yeah, Draco would have been a dead duck.

So in the interest of keeping my hero alive and relatively well, not to mention get this story rolling, I�ve waved my literary wand around and voila! Instant translations.

Before I sign off and run over to my other fics, I want to extend my thanks to Lorett, Sage, kafeist, firewall, FreakWave, all the members of the Three Keys, and every blessed person whose reviewed this story. Love ya, fellas!
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