Tuesday, January 19, 2010

She Drives, He Walks- Chapter Fourteen

She Drives, He Walks – Chapter 14

Hermione is standing by the door of a one room with bathroom flat in disbelief. And shock.

“How the hell does he live here?”

The only thing that made her sure this was even Draco’s flat was the scent in it: tobacco flowers and berry.

It lacks furniture. It is little, the walls are dirty, the carpet floor must have been light grey at some point; the only sink is in the bathroom. In the corner of the room there is a small table with a microwave, and thousands of cup noodles are pilled against the wall. The bed looks comfortable though; the sheets are of good quality and clean. The wardrobe is the largest thing in the flat, filled with male wear and shoes.

Hermione smiles at that. Seems like Draco Malfoy has different priorities than everyone else.

She pulls out her wand and the shrunken trunk of her pocket pants. Resizing it, she begins packing his clothes. Once she is done, she moves to the bathroom. She giggles when she opens the mirror cabinet and finds a lot of cosmetic products. The hair care things are in a large amount also. Well, well, well, who would say that Draco had a Lavender side? She packs it all, and goes on packing. When only the furniture is left, she shrinks it too, even the cup noodles. She smiles too at his mp3 player.

And she sighs with satisfaction, looking at her work. The flat is completely empty.

Hermione bites her lower lip. She had taken some time to convince him to let her come alone, but he got to see that “old friend” of his. She frowns. More like ex-customer as far I’m concerned! Then she frowns at herself. Is she jealous? Can she even be? Hermione groans. She shakes her head; the thought disturbs her.

She furrows her eyebrows again. Where the heck is his wand? She has found everything, including the money where he said it would be hidden in his pillow, but nothing of his wand. Then she remembers that Harry had snatched it when they were at his house that dreadful year.

She groans, angry. “I'm gonna kill Harry. He should have returned it!” And she storms out, to vacate that room. Draco asked her not to, but there is no way she is going to let him get back to that hole.

Not ever.

...

In another part of the city at a nice tea shop, a very nervous blond is dreading the outcome of letting a certain bookworm go to his flat. He has his hands covering his eyes, muttering curses. Draco is so absorbed in his misery that he doesn't notice when Maggie arrives. Maggie smiles at the sight of him.

She remembers the first time she saw him. What a gorgeous little thing. She goes behind him, and hugs him by the neck. “How is my Drake today?” she says, as she gives him a peck on the forehead. She feels Draco relaxing in her arms.

He places his hands on hers. “I'm good Mags, I'm good. A bit tired.”

She looks at him. He is wearing work clothes, she can tell. He has little dark circles under his eyes. But he has a little smile on that mouth just for her, a “happy to see you” smile. She smiles back, motherly. Tightening the hug a bit before letting go, she moves to the seat before him. She looks at him. The waitress comes and she asks for some random tea, while being gazed upon by him. She knows that look well.

It’s the same look her five-year-old son gives her when he has done something he thinks she won’t like and is afraid of losing her. She rolls her eyes.

“Drakie.” She says calmly, while reaching for his hand. He holds hers tight. Those eyes never letting her go. She smiles. “I think it is wonderful that you are quitting. No buts. You know how much I like you. But you were too proud to let me help you get out. Now, if this friend of yours did it, which I can only think she kinda forced upon you, I am thrilled. I just want to stay in touch with you and be friends, okay?” She finishes, grinning happily.

Draco lets out the air of his lungs. He looks at that woman before him, amazed. He opens his mouth, but she puts her finger tips on it. “Tut tut. Think again.”

That makes him smile. She knows he would begin to thank her like a idiot. She doesn't want that. He grins back at her. He gives her his best “I'm hot” smile. “You goddess. Course we can stay in touch.”

Maggie smiles openly. “Marvelous. Now drink that tea of yours -oh my, it’s cold. Waitress! Fetch another tea here, please? - right, and tell me about your plans. I'm so glad I gave you a cell phone.”

He frowns. “Plans? I don't have any.” He pauses. Hot tea is placed before him. He smacks his hand on his forehead. “Hell, Mags! What I'm gonna do?”

“Did you work on anything else besides that Picadilly thing, honey?”

“Uh, no. God-”

“Oh stop that misery thing. It’s not you. Come on. What do you know how to do?”

“Ah... I know how to drive, your fault remember? Don't giggle! I know how to shop, I have good eye for that stuff, I like... Cooking, but don't get to practice because I never had a kitchen, and I'm fucking hot.”

Maggie is staring at him with a knowing smile.

“Speak, Mags.”

“I have an idea.”

“Oh, I notice that, you minx, please do tell.”

“Oh, be patient. What do you like more, cooking or your beauty?”

He looks at her. What? Then he thinks. He likes being handsome, but he was born with that. By cooking he means potions, that he is really good at, he was top two, thanks to Granger, at his class, so yes, he loved it. He has learned and trained and perfected it, and did it all on his own. He looks at Maggie.

“Cooking.”

“Perfect. Now hear me out Drakie, you are going to like it.”

Continues...

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