Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To Be Himself	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11253 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 6
"So…You still haven’t told us what line of business you’re in, Draco," Len said, leaning forward, his face holding an expression of genuine interest as the family ate. Draco stilled his fork on its way to stab a potato and looked up.
"I’m the head of a pharmaceutical manufacturing company," he answered easily. Hermione choked on the sip of water she’d just taken.
"It's called swallowing, idiot," Jett jeered at her.
Hermione glared at him.
“And Hermione’s a liaison to your company,” Len went on, “what connection does your company have with Parliament?”
Draco set down his fork. “Many of the ingredients necessary to create our, well I like to refer to them as potions,” he said with a playful grin, causing the others to chuckle and Hermione to hum threateningly, “are highly volatile or valuable or rare, and require government approval for processing and shipment. Hermione makes sure all the involved paperwork is properly handled.”
“She’s always been very bookish,” Jude said in a tone that managed to be both approving and negative at once.
“She’s a know-it-all swot is what she is,” Jett laughed.
“Now, now,” Imogen reproved half-heartedly, “our Hermione can’t help it if she’s inherited her father’s frightful tendencies.” She leaned over to whisper at Draco. “Lord rest his soul but he was dreadfully dull.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Hermione said with a scowl.
“Like we could forget,” Peg said haughtily, “It’s pretty hard to miss you and your hair.”
“And Dad was not dull,” Hermione said, ignoring her cousin, “he was brilliant.”
“He was boring as hell,” Jett said. He made a snooty face and lowered his voice as he mimicked the late Mr. Granger, “Oh, you aren’t flossing, Jettson. Tut, tut. I like to wear khaki trousers. Tut, tut. I’m a dentist.”
Hermione bowed her head over her plate as the others laughed at his impression. Draco watched her blink back tears and then glared up at the still posturing man on her other side.
Hermione heard the whispered diffindo slip from the corner of Draco’s mouth just before the legs of Jett’s chair sheared off to send him toppling backward. Jett flailed his arms comically as he fell and grabbed at the table as he did so, hitting the edge of his full plate. The plate catapulted forward and hit him square in the face to leave him glowering and covered in gravy.
The laughter that was already present at the expense of Mr. Granger doubled as the others watched Jett try to swipe at his mess.
Draco casually chucked a napkin down at him as the man attempted to clean the food from his person with his hands. “You’ve got a little something just there,” he added, wiping a finger at his chin.
Jett glared at him and then his family before pushing up from the floor and stomping out of the room.
“Oh, come back!” Imogen called after him, “We’re just having a bit o’ fun!”
The guffaws died down slowly as the family proceeded to take more of an interest in their meals and finally began to eat without conversation.
Hermione glanced over at Draco as he quietly picked up his fork and lifted a bite to his mouth. “Why did you do that?” she whispered at him.
He shrugged as he swallowed. “Do what?” he said. He looked over at her to see that she had yet to touch her plate. “You should eat,” he added, “it’s your favorite after all.”
Hermione looked back at him for a long moment and then slowly picked up her fork and began to pick at her dinner.
When they’d all had their fill, including Jett who’d sheepishly returned after washing up and seeking-out a folding chair, Imogen looked around at the giant mess of plates and dishes and made a humming noise.
“So,” she said, “who shall we volunteer to do the cleaning up this year?”
“I already did enough cleaning,” Jett pouted sourly, pushing up to stand. He walked off saying over his shoulder, “I’m going to watch the telly.”
“We vote Hermione,” Peg and Isabelle said at once.
“Draco,” Sal sneered from his end of the table.
“Draco’s a guest, you cretin,” Imogen spat at her husband. Sal merely rolled his eyes.
“I’d be happy to help clean up,” Draco replied at once, “a good guest always offers, of course.”
“I’d better help you,” Hermione said, kicking him under the table. Draco appeared unfazed.
“This will take you all night,” Peg said to Draco motioning about at the many dirty plates and glasses and dishes, “let Hermine do it herself.”
“Yeah,” Isabelle chimed in with a twee smile at him, “we want to hear more about you. You should come and sit with us by the fireplace. Someone as handsome as you shouldn’t be bothered with washing anyway.”
Hermione clenched her fists on the table as Draco smiled at them. “Oh, it’s no bother to me,” he said pleasantly, “I’m a regular wizard at cleaning up. Between the two of us, we’ll be done so fast you’d think we used magic.”
Hermione kicked him again under the table and he smirked sideways at her.
“Well…I’m sure we’re all very grateful it’ll be you doing the scrubbing and not us,” Len said with a nod to him as he stood. “And try not to be too loud as you do so,” he added snootily before taking his leave. Jude and Sal both got up without comment and followed him out.
Peg and Isabelle both cast disappointed looks at Draco then a glare at Hermione before each rising as well.
“Try not to chip the china,” Imogen said as she gave her mouth one final wipe with her napkin. She got up and patted a hand to Draco’s shoulder. “We’ll all be in the family room whenever you’re finished.”
Draco and Hermione both watched her leave and then sagged back in their chairs. Draco grabbed his glass of water and took a giant gulp and swished.
“Ugh,” he smacked his lips with a nauseous pout, “her food is horrid.”
Hermione merely turned a glare to him before pushing herself up from her chair and stalking off into the attached kitchen.
Draco quickly stood and entered in behind her to find her waving her wand around the room.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Silencing and Muggle repelling spells,” she answered.
“Why are yo-”
“I don’t want them walking in on us,” Hermione snapped, whipping around to face him. She slashed her wand in the direction of the sink and the tap turned on to begin filling it.
Draco eyed the wand in her hand. “Uh…why not?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you honestly going to sully your precious twenty-million-pound-a-year hands with their dirty plates?”
Draco simply stared at her and she sniffed at him. “I thought so,” she said, waving her wand again to send a sponge scrubbing at some pots in the sink. She stalked back to the dining room door and held it open as she flicked her wand once more causing all of the remaining mess on the table to levitate and then float into the kitchen in a procession.
The uneaten food and residue upon them magically separated from them and floated into a rubbish bin as they traveled across the space toward the sink where they dunked into the water and were met with the spelled sponge.
“You’re really incredible, you know,” Draco said in quiet awe of the level of magic required to so flawlessly orchestrate so many washing tasks at once as he watched it all. Hermione shot him a glare.
“Yes…I’m a regular wizard at cleaning up,” she sarcastically echoed his words at him. Draco smirked.
“I really hope not,” he teased, “I only go for witches.”
Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head. “I should have known better,” she said, “should have known you’d get on with them.”
“Ha!” Draco barked out. “I couldn’t hate these people more if I tried. How can you stand coming here every year?”
“I already told you,” she said, plopping herself down onto a stool, “they’re the only family I have left.”
Draco shook his head. “So? Staying at home by yourself would be preferable to being blatantly insulted all night.”
Hermione roamed her eyes over to the washing plates. “No,” she said very quietly, “being alone scares the hell out of me. The insults I can take… I suppose I should thank you for that by the way.”
“What?” he asked.
She looked back at him with a sad smile. “The insults. I had to grow a thick skin just to survive my daily run-ins with you in school, didn’t I? Seems there’s a silver lining to everything….”
Draco shifted a bit on his feet and rubbed at his arm. “I, uh…I’m sorry about all tha-”
“Don’t,” Hermione said firmly, cutting off his apology. “It’s in the past. I…I just…I can take the insults, but… they couldn’t.”
“They?”
Hermione shrugged. “Ron…Toby…Charles…they all cracked before dinner.”
“Why bother bringing them here at all,” Draco asked, leaning up against the nearest counter.
She shrugged again. “I guess… I don’t know. I feel like I need to...like I…wait, why am I telling you this?” she said, shaking her head. “Why do you care?”
Draco watched a plate rinse itself under the still flowing tap. “Just trying to understand why someone as brilliant and independent as you would put-up with it all.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “You can stop with that now,” she said, “with the false praise…they can’t hear you.”
Draco tilted his head as he looked at her. “How long have we worked together, Granger?”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Nearly four years now, why?”
“And how many regulated ingredient acquisition transactions have you filed for me?”
“Nine-hundred and twelve,” she answered at once.
Draco smiled. “You know the exact number right off the top of your head. And I’ve not been denied even one of those acquisitions…no else could’ve brought me such results. No one. You ARE brilliant. It’s hardly false praise.”
Hermione creased her brow at that. “Well, I’m very glad you think so,” she said cynically, “I’m so brilliant that I thought it’d be a good idea to bring you here.”
“I think things are going swimmingly,” he said. “They’re totally buying it.”
“Buying what?” she demanded. “What are you selling? Yourself? Your rich, charming, handsome self? For what purpose? I didn’t pay you to come and show-off just how wonderful the Draco Malfoy is.”
She stood up from the stool and slashed her wand at the last of the carefully floating dishes to send them hurtling into the sink with a crash.
“Hermione, what-”
“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” she cursed to herself as she stowed her wand back up her sleeve. “You’ve only made everything worse for me.”
Draco stared at her and pursed his lips. “I know what I’m doing,” he said. “You want your family to like and accept your next boyfriend. I’m making sure that happens.”
Hermione shook her head. “The only way that’d happen now is if my next boyfriend was exactly like you!”
Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione was already stomping out the kitchen door.
“I never should have brought you here,” she spat at him when he rushed out just behind her.
“Hermione, please,” he said as they came into view of the rest of the family. They all turned their heads to watch the commotion. Hermione merely stomped up the stairs without a word or look back at anyone and Draco flinched slightly when she slammed the door to their room shut. He slowly turned to see the others staring.
“Feisty one, she is,” he said a bit uncomfortably.
“This happens every year,” Peg noted in a lamenting drone.
“Hermione starts a fight,” Isabelle sighed back gloomily, “and then the boy always leaves.”
Draco looked back up at Hermione’s door. “I’m not leaving,” he said firmly.
“She’s lucky that you continue to put up with her,” Jude said with a shake of her head.
“Ungrateful, that’s what she is,” Len chimed in, “decent bloke like you…you ought to have seen the ones she used to date.”
“They were terrors,” Isabelle nodded.
“Not like you,” Peg added.
Draco looked around at them all. “You all would know something about terrors, wouldn’t you?”
The insult was lost on them and they merely nodded.
“It’s just such a relief that she’s managed to find someone as successful as you, what with her having her mother’s wretched looks and her father’s personality,” Imogen sighed as she rose from her chair and came to his side.
Jude nodded. “We’d all hoped that one day Hermione would make an effort with herself…like my girls. Maybe she will now that she has you to encourage her.”
Draco stiffened slightly. “I think Hermione is beautiful as she is,” he said.
“Her blessed father used to say the same thing, the sad sap,” Imogen replied, shaking her head and patting his arm, “it’s ok, lad. You don’t need to pretend with us.”
“I’m not pretending,” Draco said shortly, “I’m done pretending.”
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To Be Himself