Bad Romance - Time

Hermione looked up at the building in front of her. It was tall and had many added levels and extensions added over the years. The chimney was puffing out smoke and a dog barked.

At the sound of barking Hermione frowned. The Weasley’s didn’t have a dog?

‘What was that?’ Ginny asked with a grin.

Hermione looked at her and smiled ‘A dog?’

‘Come on.’

Both girls left their trunks on the ground where they had apparated outside of the Burrow gates and ran up the path to the back door.

They entered the noisy kitchen and looked around at the chaos looming.

Arthur Weasley was sat at the long kitchen table talking to Percy, a cup of tea in his hand.

Fleur was sat next to Percy, patting her slightly swollen stomach. Hermione smiled at her.

Bill was down on his knees peering under one of the kitchen cupboards and Mrs. Weasley was stood besides him, wringing a towel in her hands and looking a mixture of worried and cross.

‘Get him, Bill. That’s the forth pair of Arthur’s shoes he’s ruined in a week. Who’s great idea was it to get a dog?’

Arthur Weasley seemed to lower himself down in his chair, as if to avoid catching Molly’s eyes.

Harry and Ron walked through the door at that minute and with a little squeal Ginny was off, flying into Harry’s arms.

‘Must you!’ Ron grumbled and sat at the table.

‘You don’t care when it’s Lavender in you’re arms, little brother and the whole world get’s to see your tongue down her throat.’ George said as he walked across the kitchen towards Bill.

Hermione stood by the back door and took everything in.

Ron blushed and then smiled as Lavender joined the room and sat next to him. She reached into the middle of the table for the tea set and started to pour herself and Ron a cup of tea each.

‘Hello, dear,’ Molly’s voice said.

Hermione turned towards her, a smile starting on her face in greeting, when she notice Molly was addressing Ginny, not Hermione.

What? Was she wearing an invisibility cloak? She asked herself. Had they just not noticed her?

Ron’s eyes didn’t leave Lavender’s face and Harry and Ginny quickly snook out of the back door. Harry giving Hermione a smile in greeting on the way past. His hand briefly giving her arm a squeeze. Her anger at him, from keeping Ron’s news from her, flared and then died away at the tired look she saw in his eyes.

He was only respecting a friends wishes and she understood Harry, she knew him and knew that the whole time he was keeping quiet he would have been giving Ron hell to tell her.

The dog suddenly ran out from his hiding place. It was a small King Charles Cavalier puppy. Chestnut coloured fur covered him and he had the cutest face.

He dragged a shoe behind him by the lace and when he struggled with the weight he let it drop. Realising that he now had two Weasley men chasing him he panicked and made for the back door.

His eyes seemed to light up when he saw Hermione and before she knew it he had leapt into her arms.

Hermione held him tight to her body, scared she would drop him. His fur was so soft and fluffy she couldn’t resist burying her face in it.

‘Hermione!’ Molly cried, as if only just seeing her.

‘He’s adorable,’ Hermione said softly, stroking the puppy who was snuggling into her.

‘He’s a mischief, is what he is,’ Molly groaned and lowered herself into a chair. She sent a glare at Arthur. ‘He’s my husband’s idea of good Christmas present for me. Thought I needed something to do now that all the kids are growing up and the war is over. Who ever put that thought in his head is jinxed when I find them.’

Hermione listened and smiled again. The puppy was just too cute. How could no-body love him. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Jinx, I thought it appropriate as the only way to get him to stop is to jinx him still.’

Hermione continued to stroke the puppy’s fur and she slowly felt herself relax.

She’d had to leave Crookshanks at school and was slightly please now. She doubted the cat and dog would have been the best of friends.

The back door opened and Hermione turned, expecting to see Harry and Ginny returning. She was surprised, instead, to see Charlie Weasley walk through the door. She smiled at him as he took off his jacket. She’d always like Charlie.

He was shorter then Ron, about Harry’s height. He had the same red hair as the rest of the family, only his was short to his head.

He was as tanned as ever and Hermione had the strange thought that his skin looked like soft leather.

He saw Hermione and stared at her. Hermione felt slightly awkward as she realised the whole room was watching him.

Charlie blinked a few times and then walked over to her. He reached out a hand and began to stroke the, now sleeping, puppy in her arms.

‘I almost had to hex that Potter.’ He told the room.

‘What?!’ Molly cried.

‘Well he had his hands all over my baby sister! Chosen boy, the boy who lived and the saviour of the wizarding world be damned. I’m not having him pawing at Ginny.’

Hermione giggled. ‘I have a feeling it was more Ginny pawing at him.’

Molly smiled. ‘Leave them alone,’ she said and stood to move to the sink.

Charlie looked at Hermione again, more closely this time. ‘My, Hermione, you’ve grown up some since the war,’ he whispered.

Hermione frowned at him. ‘Have I? I doubt I’ve changed that much in the matter of a few months...’

‘Yes you have. You’re even more beautiful now.’ He grinned.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush and she noticed Ron was frowning.

‘Charlie,’ Fleur laughed up at them. ‘Vhat a big flirt oou are!’

Charlie walked towards his part veela sister-in-law and laughed. He then bent down to kiss the top of her head. ‘I can’t help myself when I’m surrounded by all these pretty ladies.’ He chuckled.

*****************

Hermione was snuggled into a overstuffed chair. A warm knitted blanket was wrapped around her and she had her nose buried in a book.

For the first time in a long time she felt contented.

The puppy was curled up on her lap. Her new four legged friend had hardly left Hermione’s side since she had arrived that morning.

A charm went off and Hermione looked up at the clock on the mantle piece. It was getting late she thought and looked around the room. No one seemed ready for bed though.

Tomorrow was Christmas eve and everyone was starting to get excited, This was the first Christmas many of them had spent without the tension of the war hanging over their heads. This year they could relax.

Hermione watched as Molly and Arthur snuggled up on the couch. Arthur’s eyes were slowing drooping and his head kept dipping towards Molly’s.

Bill was sat on the love seat by the window, Fleur laying with her head on his lap as he quietly read to her.

Ron was sat on the floor in front of the fire, patiently trying to teach Lavender how to play Wizards chest.

Harry and Ginny sat together, apart from the group. He was quietly talking and she was stroking his arm, his hair. Kissing his hand and looking at him with such love and compassion. Hermione knew he was telling her of the past, the battle and everything else he had endured. Ginny was helping him to heal.

Hermione’s eyes fell on the clock hanging on the wall. Molly Weasley had, at last, stopped carrying it from room to room with her.

Hermione hated looking at it. It always shocked her to see Fred’s hand permanently stuck on deceased.

It hurt her heart.

Hermione’s eyes skimmed over his picture to those of the rest of the family. All pointing at ‘Home’. With the addition of a new hand, baring the picture of Harry. Hermione’s heart swelled with pride that Harry would be included on the clock. She knew that Molly and Arthur had great respect and love for the man.

Then her heart sank. Her picture was not there. She’d not been included.

Why? Hermione loved the Weasley’s - all of them. Obviously their feelings for her were not as strong, she told herself and tried to block out the pain.

She’d always thought that she was thought of as another daughter by Molly and Arthur.

Hermione wondered if it was her failed relationship with Ron that had stopped her being added to the clock. She knew that Molly could hold a grudge, was she holding one now?

‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ Hermione said rather quickly, trying to hide the tears in her voice.

Harry frowned over at her as she walked out of the living room. The young puppy following her every footstep.

At lest one member of the family wanted her, Hermione thought. Even if it was the non-human member.

When she got to the room she shared with Ginny she got ready for bed and then went to brush her teeth. When she entered the room again she heard a tap tap at the window.

Slightly frightened, Hermione picked her wand up from where she had put it on her bed. She held it out as she opened the curtains at the window.

She saw the shadow of a owl and decided to open the window to get a better look. As soon as she opened it she was pushed back as a large, dark owl flew into the room and after dropping a white envelope on the bed, perched it’s self on top of Ginny’s wardrobe.

It was a beautiful creature, Hermione thought as she stared at it. Graceful and regal in it’s pose. Dark feathers smooth and silky.

She picked up the envelop it had dropped and saw straight away the Malfoy coat of arms sealing the letter. On the front it was simply addressed to H.Granger. The Burrow

Hermione wondered why Malfoy was writing her a letter. What was going on now?

She though about his comment to Ron when they’d been in Hogsmeade. What had he meant by that. Her face heated up at the possibilities.

She sat down on the bed she slept in, opposite Ginny’s and opened it. Nervous at what it might say.

Granger,

I hope the start of your holidays are going as badly as mine? If not then receiving this might help in that respect.

Goodness knows why I’m writing to you but I have a urge ( and for once I’m going to follow it).

Funny how writing to you seems easier then actually talking to you, is it the same for you, do you suppose?

Merlin! Please don’t let me be making a fool of myself?

If you want to talk reply, if I receive none then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.

D.M


Hermione read the letter four times before she noticed that the hand holding it was shaking.

Draco Malfoy had wrote her a letter. The strangest letter she had ever received, apart from her very first Hogwarts letter, of course.

Was this for real? She wondered. The crest on the envelope looked official. It also looked like his handwriting, from what she had seen of it in lessons.

His character had also come out in the letter. The bluntness and clipped tones of it what he would use if he was speaking. The letter shone with his personality.

What was going on between them? She asked herself again. She didn’t understand any of it.

Before she could change her mind Hermione got out some parchment and a pen, not wanting to waste time searching for a quill and ink.

She quickly wrote a reply and after waving her wand at it to make it smaller tied it to the leg of the Malfoy owl.

The dark bird seemed to look down his’s beak at Hermione as she attached the letter, as if he too took offence at a none pure-blood touching him.

‘Take this letter to Draco Malfoy, not his father, understand?’ she whispered quietly.

The owl seemed to give her a stare before it took off and flew through the open window, not looking back.

****************

Draco Malfoy paced the full length of his rather large bed chambers and sighed. How long did it take? Surly the bloody bird should be back by now.

Patience, he told himself and took a deep breath. The longer the bird takes the better the chances of her replying are. If the bird had returned in no time at all that would have meant that she hadn’t replied. As it was she could very well be writing a reply at this very moment.

Merlin, he hoped so.

It had took two shots of fire-whiskey to finally gain the courage to send the letter. He’d chickened out half a dozen times. Calling himself every fool under the sun for writing her.

But he couldn’t stop himself.

So much for avoiding her and fighting the attraction he felt for her, he silently laughed at himself. All his life he’d done what was expected of him. Hated Mudbloods because he was a Malfoy and Malfoy’s were pure-bloods. He’d followed every rule his father had laid down. He’d followed the man right to Voldemort’s knees and look at where that had got him.

Almost a sentence in Azkaban or a grave in the Malfoy plot.

And a arm that ached like it was under a ten ton heavy rock. His hand reached over to stroke his arm where his dark mark lay.

Draco looked around him. At the room he’d had since birth. For as long as he could remember it’d been green and silver. Slytherin colours. Even before he’s been sorted his father had been sure he’d be the new prince of Slytherin

He was the prince of Slytherin and Granger the Princess of Grythindor. His rival house.

Thinking of her again he pictured her face in his mind. Her soft freckles and pale skin. Her cheeks flushed such a lovely colour when she was mad with him. Was that why he’d made her mad so often? He questioned himself. Because she was even more beautiful when she was mad?

He’d arrived home from school that morning and the minute he’d stepped into the manor he’d wanted to return.

He hated the bloody old mansion. Hated everything that had happened and everything the place seemed to stand for now.

Even his childhood memories, happy memories, couldn’t keep at bay all the evil that had happened there.

After the final battle his mother had begged his father for them to move. Lucius had denied her though. The manor had been in the family for centuries - he wasn’t going to abandon it. He had been gracious enough to let Narcissa re-decorate every room.

Draco didn’t think it made a difference what colour the walls were. When he closed his eyes he could still hear the screams of the dark lords victims.

It gave him chills to live there.


Draco turned to begin pacing towards the other end of the room again when a movement at the french doors leading to his balcony caught his eye.

Shadow, his owl, was perched on the back of the chair, near the open door.

Draco walked over to the owl and closing the door held out his arm.

‘Well what do you have for me, my friend?’

Shadow landed on his forearm and allowed Draco to carry him to his perch, in one corner of the green and silver room.

The owl jumped gracefully onto the wooden perch and only then did it allow Draco to remove the letter from it’s leg.

‘Thank you,’ Draco softly said as he placed the letter on his writing desk and cast a spell on it to make it the correct size.

He was nervous, he realised as he sat down. He was worried about what she had wrote in her letter. Was it full of abuse? Threats telling him to stay away from her? Merlin, he hoped not! He knew now there was no way he could avoid her. Only a day since he had last seen her and already he was craving her company. He had no chance of fighting his attraction.

He slowly opened the letter and began to read.

Well I won’t deny that I was shocked upon receiving your letter.

It began. No formal greeting, he noted. Was that bad or good? He read on.

As you might expect I had been looking forward to celebrating Christmas with Harry and the Weasley’s but as of yet I haven’t celebrated much - it’s not how I expected it to be. Of course I make allowances for this being the first Christmas after the war and with out so many dear friends and most importantly Fred. But that doesn’t explain what it is I’m feeling... or sensing.

It’s almost as if they’d rather I wasn’t here. Or as if it’s of no matter to them if I am or not.

Merlin I miss my parents!

And I can’t believe I’m telling you this! You of all people! And take that scowl of your face - we’ve been mortal enemies since we were eleven and don’t pretend we haven’t.

Draco had to chuckle. He had been scowling. She knew him so well it seemed. How?

Why has that changed now, I wonder? Why do I find it easy to write to you? to tell you how I feel?. It’s a lot easier then if you were stood in front of me. What’s happening between us? Can you answer that question? Because I can’t.

H.G

Draco re-read the letter over and over all through the night.

He was giddy that she had actually replied to him. And not just to tell him to leave her alone, but she’d confided in him. They’d talked.

He felt like a silly, foolish boy and had to calm his excitement. He was a wizard, who was of age. Eighteen with his whole future ahead of him - which he hated to admit was because of Potter.

He couldn’t answer her question though. He didn’t have a answer to give. How could he explain what he felt, this attraction for someone he should hate?

He was doomed!

He realised now that they’d be no way to stay away form her. He wanted her. And he had a feeling she wanted him too.

But if they started anything between them it’d be the ruin of them. His parents would never accept Hermione in his life and Potter and Weasley would never accept him in hers.

Then there were his plans for America.

He couldn’t start anything with her.... But he didn’t think he could help himself.

He shook his head at himself. Women! Girls. They had never had him so confounded as this one girl did. What was so different with her?

If she was any other girl he’d simply abuse and amuse. That had been his motto for years. He used girls and then left them. They had always known the score too.

But he couldn’t do that with Granger, could he?

He rubbed a frustrated hand over his face. His eyes tired. Maybe his old ways could work in both their favours this time after all. Granger wouldn’t want him in her life as something serious. She had too much of a good future ahead of her to mess it up with him. Maybe all she needed was a little fun?

His kind of fun!

And maybe that was just what he needed. To have fun with the bookworm and get her out of his system.

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A/N: I know the chapters are coming fast but like I said I have got up to chapter 14 written, though I don't think I'll post them all today. Thank you to those who have read and reviewed. You've made my day!!!!:D