What he wants

Disclaimer- Still own nothing.

Thank you to:

Given2Fly- I know that Draco seems a bit OOC but maybe that's how he's learning to be himself after all that time spent with Lucious.

shalamonde16 aka lala- Akwardness is good, hehe. Never fear a new chapter is now here.

joanna- I'm glad that you like the Helen and John. I find them quite entertaining myself.

samantha- Happy Belated and I'm glad that you liked the chapter!

sanaa- I'm glad that you like the story so far and I wouldn't die...I'd just crawl under the floor and stay there for...well for a while.

Stag- I'm glad that you like my version of Hermiones parents *bites nails* I hope this chapter has you thinking the same!

Alright, onto the chapter...

This was the longest lunch she’d ever had with her parents. Her mother was staring at her father, who was starting at Draco, who was staring at his menu. She wanted to excuse herself and go back to her flat but it would just be a waste of time. The last time she’d tried it she hadn’t been home more than five minutes when her parents let themselves into her flat, with a key they’d had made for themselves, and her mum had made lunch from what minimal groceries Hermione had in her kitchen.

“Can I start you off with a drink?” the waitress asked with a smile.

“I’ll have water with lemon,” her mum said with a smile.

“I’ll have a scotch,” Her dad muttered, which earned a quick glare from her mother before he answered the waitress. “I’ll have water as well, please.”

“And you, sir?” the girl asked when her attention fell to Draco, who still had yet to look up from his menu.

“I’ll just have water, please,” he answered mostly to him menu.

“I’ll have lemonade, please,” Hermione said with a smile as the waitress looked at her.

“Alright, I’ll give you guys a few more minutes to look over menu and I’ll be back to take your order,” the waitress informed them with a too-perky smile before she walked away.

“What will you be having, John?”

“I’m not quite sure, Helen, what do you have on your mind?” he asked as he finally dropped his gaze from Draco and focused on the menu.

“I was thinking of just getting the chicken salad,” her mother answered with a shrug. She ordered the same dish every time they ate out.

“I think I’ll be getting the steak with a baked potato,” her father said thoughtfully.

“It’s lunchtime, John,” her mother said in the same voice she’d used when Hermione had tried to sneak cookies out of the cookie jar when she was younger. She told you not to do it but she didn’t outright tell you so.

“I’ll have bloody fish and chips,” her father informed the table with a sign.

“Hermione, love?”

“I think I’ll have the fish and chips as well,” Hermione said with a shrug, she got the same thing every time as well.

“Draco?”

“What?” he asked defensively as his gaze shot to her mother.

“What will you be having to eat, dear?”

Draco visibly relaxed at the question and he looked at Hermione before asking what she was having. When she answered he nodded and agreed with her choice. She touched her wrist, hoping to find a hair tie, and sighed before she drew her hair up into a messy ponytail and muttered a spell to hold her hair, she might as well be comfortable while she sat in hell.

“Hermione, love, you have a rash on your neck,” her fathers concerned voice said from across the small round table.

“What?” she asked as she brought her hand up to her neck, the side her father was motioning to.

“Oh you do,” her mother agreed pushing Hermione’s hand away. “Oh.”

“Did you switch laundry detergents or perhaps get a new perfume?” her father asked while giving her mother a strange look.

“She’s a grown woman, John, she can deal with it herself,” her mother reprimanded her dad, who was opening his mouth for another question.

Hermione gave a strange look to her mother as well before she looked at Draco, whose eyes were now roughly the size of saucers. His gaze was fixed on her neck and he’d lost the small amount of coloring he had in his face.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, the first time she’d spoken to him since they were both dragged out of her flat.

“What?” he asked as his eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“I asked are you alright,” she said almost reaching a hand out to cover his.

“I’m fine…it’s just…” his slim fingers motioned to his neck then to her before they limply fell back onto his menu.

“Just what?” she asked picking up a spoon and trying to look at her neck before it dawned on her. The bite mark he’d left. She dropped the spoon quickly on the table and folded her hands and placed them onto her lap.

“What’s wrong, love?” her father asked at her sudden change.

“Nothing, dad. It must be the new perfume I bought,” she explained while looking over her fathers shoulder.

“Hermione Jane Granger, what are you hiding from me?” She’d forgotten that her parents knew the signs of her lies.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t you lie to my, missy, I happened to teach you that evasive technique when you were younger,” her father informed her with a shake of his finger.

“What do you do, Draco?” her mum asked in a cheery voice that Hermione flinched at. Her father was bound to know something was up if she kept that voice up.

“What?” the blond asked as he looked away from Hermione.

“What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, I uh…I own a company,” he said with a shrug.

“Really? Started it up yourself?” her father asked.

Hermione groaned inwardly and sent a look to her mother that was returned to her with nervous look. Her father had a bit of a sore spot when it came to men younger than him owning their own businesses. He’d pick the company apart, find the flaws and then be in a much better mood towards whoever had the misfortune of bringing up their company.

“No, great grandfather did and it was passed to my father then to me,” Draco answered completely unaware of what was to come.

“Really? So what type of business was handed to you?” her father asked looking much more comfortable than he should have been.

“Malfoy Enterprise buys companies that are floundering and break them apart and sell them.”

“So you’re fathers been grooming you to take over, eh?”

“My father wanted me to have no part in the company. If he hadn’t died last year I’m sure I would be working in the Ministry to make sure the company stayed out of speculation,” Draco answered sharply, his eyes taking on a hard glint that Hermione hadn’t seen since third year when she’d smacked him and he vowed to get even with her after he cornered her later that day. “I don’t know what you were trying to prove but have you?”

Her father looked at a loss for words and she looked at her mother for what to do and found her looking at Draco with a tender look.

“Are you happy now, John?” her mum snapped when Draco fidgeted nervously and almost drained his glass of water.

Her father had the sense to look embarrassed and didn’t answer his wife, who was throwing him a glare. She closed her eyes and was relieved when she heard the waitress’s perky voice ask what they would be having.

“I’ll have the chicken salad please, no dressing,” her mother answered before her father chimed in with his order.

“I’ll have the fish and chips as well, please.”

“Me too,” Draco said as the girl looked to him.

“Alright, so that’s one chicken salad and three fish and chips.”

They nodded and smiled as she walked away.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” her father said after a lengthy silence.

“Its fine,” Draco answered with a shrug.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when her father didn’t bring up anything else and sat back as her mother began asking questions. She listened, barely, as her eyes drifted over the street. There weren’t many people on the street and those that were lived there and were on their way home. She smiled and waved at many of the men that passed, knowing some from work and some from her building, but was brought back to the conversation at her table when her mother shook her arm.

“Yes?” she asked looking at her mum with a tinge of confusion. She’d lost track of the conversation and was at a complete loss of what to say.

“Nothing, love, you just looked a bit lost.”

Hermione sent her mother a smile before she looked around the table to see who else noticed her wandering mind. Her father was looking over the dessert menu and Draco was glaring at something across the street. She looked over to see J.R., who lived on the floor above her, waving at her. She waved back and looked back at Draco, who was now giving her a hard look.

“What?” she asked when he looked back to J.R. then her?

“Who is he?” he asked sounding nonchalant.

“Who, J.R.?” she asked confusedly. “He lives on the floor above me. When I have week long trips he picks my mail up for me.”

“He’s been in your apartment?” he asked raising and eyebrow.

“Of course he has.”

“Why has he been in your apartment, Hermione?” her father asked looking across the street.

“He lives on the floor above me,” she explained again sending an odd look to her father as well as Draco.

“I don’t like the thought of you having men in your apartment, Hermione,” Draco…DRACO…said in a disapproving tone, her father, for once, agreeing with the blond.

“You are not my father, Draco and I’m a grown woman, dad,” Hermione huffed leaning back in the chair and folding her arms across her chest. “I am not a child; I can take care of myself.”

“Like you took care of yourself last night?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?” Her father asked as the last word came out of Draco’s mouth.

“Nothing, dad. Draco just caught me unaware last night,” she explained with a wave of her hand.

“Do you think that J.R. character is going to sit on your couch watching the telly and then call out to you when you come home from work? What on earth is he going to say ‘Decided to break in and have my way with you, mind grabbing the corn? I’m in the middle of a movie.’?” Draco asked looking very upset with her.

“Honestly, Draco. Its popcorn, for one thing, and he wouldn’t be able to get into my flat. The only reason you got in was because you tricked my uncle,” she pointed out with a roll of her eyes.

“I didn’t trick your uncle, Hermione; I asked if he would let me in and after some persuading he agreed to let me in,” Draco said looking very offended.

“Persuading my foot,” she muttered before the waitress came with their food.

“Alright, is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked setting down a bottle of ketchup, something everyone on the table looked at warily.

“Malt vinegar, please,” her mother asked with a smile.

“Right, sorry. I forgot you guys don’t use ketchup,” the waitress mumbled to herself as she snatched the bottle off of the table and replaced it with a bottle of amber colored liquid.

Hermione looked oddly at the girl and wondered if she’d waited on them before but could place her face.

“What do you mean ‘you guys’?” Draco asked looking up at the girl with distaste.

“I’m sorry, I’m from America and almost everyone uses ketchup,” the girl answered with a shrug. Hermione didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed the accent of the girl before but chalked it up to the stress of the situation. “I hope you enjoy your meal, if you need anything my name is Angie, just give me a holler.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her last statement and unrolled the napkin that held the spoon, knife and fork. Hermione watched as he folded the napkin lengthwise then set it to the left of his plate then place the fork down, he then moved the knife and spoon to the right and made sure they were just so before he picked up his fork and began to eat his chips.

“Hermione, dear, stop staring, it isn’t nice,” her mother scolded before the older woman took a large bite of salad.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat before she unrolled her napkin as well, placed the fork, knife and spoon above her plate and began eating her chips with her fingers. She was taking a sip of water when she felt Draco looking at her.

“What?” she asked setting the glass down and wiping her fingers.

“You don’t use a fork,” Draco said as if it were an alien concept to him.

With a glance at her father, who was also eating with his fingers, she answered. “No, I don’t.”

“But your fingers are getting dirty,” he stressed with a wave towards her hands, which she then put in her lap.

“That’s part of the fun of eating.”

“Fun?” Draco asked with disgust evident in his voice.

“Yes, fun,” Hermione said again with a glare.

“How is it fun?”

“Hermione, dear, just eat, please.”

Hermione bit her lip to stop the retort that was on the tip of her tongue and smiled sheepishly at her mum, who was a third of the way through her salad. She checked her father’s plate to see he was more than half done, still using his fingers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Draco apologized when she picked up her fork and began eat her chips in silence.

“Well you already have so it doesn’t matter,” she snapped then bit into a chip with unnecessary force and snapped her teeth together harshly.

“Don’t do that!” Her father hissed grabbing the fork from her hand, throwing it onto the table and opening her mouth to check her teeth, not waiting for her to swallow her food.

“John she just clanked her teeth together, no need to start a surgery right at the table,” her mother said swatting at her husbands hand.

When Hermione finally got her face free of her fathers hand she quickly closed her mouth and swallowed her food, sending a glare to her father in the process.

“I’ve done worse things to my teeth, dad,” she said grinding her teeth in an effort not to yell.

“Well I know you did that business of shortening them while you were in Hogwarts, I didn’t want you to do anything that could have upset it,” he tried to rationalize.

“It was done with magic, father, it doesn’t come undone by itself.”

“Well you didn’t explain that to me, now did you?” he asked having the nerve to look affronted.

“I didn’t think it would have been necessary.”

“Don’t clench your teeth, darling,” her mother ordered with a ‘tsk’ at her daughters actions.

Hermione huffed and pushed her plate away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually finished a lunch with her parents but this is the least she’d eaten in a few months. She watched as Draco set his fork aside and picked up a chip gingerly between two fingers and bit into it, his face tight. He finished the chip and then reached for another one with a smile that made him look as though he were sneaking a cookie out of the cookie jar before dinner instead of eating chips with his fingers.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Hermione asked her parents when everyone was finished with their lunches.

“We planned on taking you shopping,” her mother answered while her father sent a look to Draco that said that he had planned on causing harm to someone.

“Oh, I can’t, I have to get my things in order for my vacation,” Hermione said trying to look disappointed and not insanely happy at the easy out she’d had.

“Of course, love, I forgot. What are you planning to do?”

“I’m not sure, mum. I might just laze around all week reading the new texts that Minerva sent me,” Hermione answered with a shrug.

“Will you visit us?” she mum asked with a smile.

“Of course I will.”

“You’re father will be on his best behavior,” the older woman went on to sooth her daughter.

“What do you mean I’ll be on my best behavior?” her father demanded.

“Well you did ‘misplace’ her wand the last time she visited,” her mother clarified with a wink to Hermione.

Her father had ‘accidentally’ put her wand in her old school trunk in the attic. She’d had to stay over and extra day because she couldn’t find it. It was only after her mother had threatened him with bodily harm that he suddenly remembered that he’d left it in the attic.

“Well your father and I must be going then, we have shopping to do,” her mother said when the bill was settled and they were standing on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t drive two hours to spend an hour with my daughter,” her father complained as her mum grabbed his arm and began to pull him to the car.

“You drove out here to finally get Hermione to move back in…yes it’s true so don’t give me that look,” her mother said testily when he opened his mouth to protest, “so now that we know she’s fine we can leave her and Draco in peace.”

She waved as her mother and father drove past her and Draco, who was wiping his hands onto his pants for what seemed like the millionth time, before she made her way across the street and into her apartment building.

“Trader,” she accused as she passed her Uncle Harold.

“Well that wasn’t vary nice, oh niece of mine,” the older man answered with a smile as he drew her into a hug, giving a wary look to Draco as he released her. “They didn’t give you to hard of time, did they?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice as his gaze returned to the fizzy haired girl.

“He opened my mouth while I still had food in my mouth again and mum was just mum,” she answered with a shrug and a small smile. While she was still upset at her nark of an uncle she still couldn’t help but be happy while in his presence, he was a good uncle, if a bit nosy.

“You just have to bite down on his finger next time, love, it’s what I did when he did it to me and he left me alone after that,” her uncle advised with a wink before he turned his gaze to Draco, who was wiping his hand on is trouser leg again. “Is there something wrong with you?”

“What?” Draco asked, his attention leaving his hand and focusing on the man in front of him.

“You keep wiping your hand on your leg, is it a tick?”

Hermione stifled her laughter as Draco sent her uncle a horrified look before he stuffed his hand into his pocket.

“It was dirty,” he muttered as his cheek’s turned a very fetching shade of pink.

“Oh, thought you were one of those obsessive people, like on that show.”

Draco gave him a blank look before he shook his head and began to shift his weight from one foot to the next. She said good bye and walked up the few flights of stairs to get to her flat.

“Stop wiping your hand against your pocket lining, it doesn’t look good,” Hermione ordered as she unlocked the door.

“What do you mean?” he asked taking his hand out of his pocket and going into the kitchen and washing his hands.

“It looked like you were…well, it didn’t look good,” she explained feeling her face heat.

“What are you…oh,” Draco’s face blanched as it dawned on him before he answered. “No one really noticed though...right?”

“By the look Ms. Pearson had on her face I’d say someone noticed,” she answered with a smirk as he opened and closed his mouth. “Don’t worry, Draco, I’m sure she’ll forget all about it.”

“That is the last time I’m eating with my fingers,” he vowed with a very serious expression before he went back to wash his hands again.

I hope this chapter was up to my usual standards. Drop me a line and let me know!