A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

4. Doing the Unthinkable

“No.” He darted to the left, and when she mirrored it again. He leapt to the right once more. To the onlookers, what they were doing probably looked as though they were rehearsing for some bizarre kind of dance.

“Will you stop?”

“I will when you will,” he told her, walking from side to side like a trapped animal, eyes still fixed to hers.

She returned his gaze for a moment, seeming determined not to be the first who gave up on this questionable game they were playing. Then, slowly, her eyes became less fierce, the challenge in them disappeared, and she gradually stopped repeating Draco’s steps. Her attention left him to look around her fellow workers, and he noted the new blush that was creeping up her cheeks.

The people around them were now whispering to each other, only some pointing to Granger while most pointed at Draco, scowls on their faces. He couldn’t understand why she was blushing.

“All right,” she huffed looking back to him. “I'm stopping.”

He hid his triumphant glee, and said casually, “So I can come out from behind the desk now?”

“Yes, you can.”

“Brilliant,” he said, stepping around the desk with ease, allowing one longing glance ahead at the exit and bracing himself. “We’ll just talk this out like the adults we –” And then, within seconds, Draco had dashed past her and around the crowd to the large doors, wrenching them open, and before long he was fleeing down Diagon Alley.

Gryffindors were so predictable.

It was hard to hide his joy: he had just bested Mudblood Granger, not that it was a rare occurrence or anything. Draco knew she really wasn’t as smart as all the damn teachers made her out to be. Nevertheless, it felt good. But he could not let himself to get too wrapped up in his successful escape. It was only a matter of time before Granger would indubitably catch up.

His eyes scanned Diagon Alley for somewhere to hide temporarily. He wondered what Blaise had done with himself. Had he gone home, was he waiting around here or had he gone back to the manor? But he couldn’t mull over Blaise’s whereabouts for long, there was the odd sensation of being watched that had the back of his neck tingling.

Looking around, he made his way to Madam Malkin’s and dashed through the back of the store, careful to not run into Madam Malkin herself, and down into one of the changing rooms, locking it behind him.

He let out a loud sigh; a small amount of relief washing over him that was soon overthrown by hopelessness. Resting his head on the door, he closed his tired eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t do this for a whole year – wanted nothing more, in fact, than to just return to the manor and stay there forever and sleep. It was pathetic, but it was also a hell of a lot better than looking after house elves.

Once Draco’s breathing had returned to its normal pace, he opened his eyes, and came to the conclusion that if he wasn’t going to die from all this, he was more than likely going to be killed from it.

“Malfoy.”

Draco yelped, effectively banging his head hard on the door, and looked around to see Granger. He felt anger weld up in the pit of his stomach; she could not give him some peace, could she?

“What the bloody hell are you –?”

“Disillusionment Charm,” she answered, leaning against the wall in a way that reminded him of Blaise. She looked at him expectantly.

“What?” he demanded.

“What?” she repeated sceptically. “Gosh, I don’t know where to begin. Completely out of the blue, you pop up after seven years of insults and demand a job from me involving house elves, seeming full aware that, being my assistant, we’ll be sending a generous amount of time together. And if that isn’t enough, the very next day you burst through the door of my meeting, unconcerned about what you were interrupting or how much damage you could have done to my job, and boldly scribble all over my notes that you were now going to be sharing an apartment with me. I don’t even think I need to tell you how bizarre that is. You want to live with Hermione Granger.” He winced at the word ‘want’. “There’s so many things wrong with what you’re doing I can’t even…” She rubbed her forehead, unable to finish. “So, if anyone’s allowed to say what, I believe it should be me! Just what are you playing at Malfoy?”

He stared at her for several moments, feeling very stupid that he had alluded himself to believe she’d simply leave it at that. Of course she wouldn’t, this woman has to know everything and wouldn’t stop until she did. It was this that reminded Draco of the many reasons why he loathed her so.

When he didn't respond, she glared at him in annoyance. “If you want your job you’ll answer.”

“How dare you –?”

“My patience is thinning,” she threatened.

“So is mine!” he snapped. “And I will not answer to you! You always seem to forget, Granger, you’re not worth my time.”

“And yet I’m employed with a stable job and respected within the community, while you are neither." Draco took a threatening step forward, but stoped almost instantly when Granger raised her wand. “I want to know what’s going on.”

He looked between her and the wand before a devious smirk spread across his face. “You know, I’m surprised you’re even allowed to carry one of those things.”

“Why do you want to live with me?” she demanded loudly.

“Shut up!” he hissed. “Do you really want someone to –?”

“I used a Muffliato Charm," said Granger impatiently. “Now tell me exactly what it is you’re hoping to get from all this, Malfoy.”

He scoffed. “There is no way I’m having this conversation with you in a closet. I shouldn’t even be speaking to someone like you at all.”

“You are aware that you’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole?” she asked. “Insulting me, and then asking to live with me does not add up, therefore, I’m forced to draw up the conclusion that you’re either, one, mentally unstable or two, you’re up to something.”

“So what if I am?”

“Mentally unstable? Well then I’d have to submit you to St. Mungo’s.”

He glared daggers at her. “You’d better watch your tone.”

Finally, she stopped leaning against the wall and stood up straight, staring at him incredulously. “You’re the one who wants to work for me!”

Again, he winced at the word ‘want’. “You’ll benefit from it.”

“I don’t need your money,” she sneered.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re with Weasley, are you not?”

Her eyes sparked. “What are you insinuating?”

Frustrated, Draco decided that this conversation was getting them nowhere whatsoever. The sooner he stopped avoiding the subject, the sooner he could leave and return to Malfoy Manor – temporarily, of course, but he knew his mother wouldn’t force him to leave the moment he stepped foot in the house. He also knew Granger would not go along with this unless… unless…

And then an idea, a dangerous one and probably the stupidest thing he’d ever considered, occurred to him. If he did not save the family’s reputation, it would be damaged forever. Every Malfoy would be hated generations to come. Every ounce of hard work to gain such high status would be wasted.

Unless…

Unless he did the unthinkable.

“Listen… Granger… obviously I don’t like you. You don’t like me. Trust me, I have no desire to change that and I want to leave it that way forever.” He put a large emphasis on the last word. “But I just need you to cooperate with me – don’t give me that look, just hear me out.” Draco took a deep breath. “If I… if I prove to you that you can trust me on this, will you let me work and live with you for a whole year, no matter what?”

She stared at him doubtfully, clearing not buying or trusting a word he said. “I don’t think you could ever possibly persuade me to trust you, Malfoy.”

“What if there was a way for you to willingly trust me on this?”

“Oh? And what way would that be?”

“By magic.”

She cocked her head to the side, now seeming curious. And they both knew her curiosity would win out in the end. It always did.

“What… kind of magic?” she asked.

Summoning up courage he did not know he possessed, Draco said boldly, “An Unbreakable Vow.”