Unfortunate Events

Event One: The Bad Beginning

There: where it was raining cats and dogs and she had no umbrella. There: where puddles were ankle-deep and muddy and covering her new pair of shoes. There: where she would not be able to change into her comfy, warm pajamas because she had left them in her office, along with everything else she had packed in her overnight bag.

Slamming the gate behind her with a less than satisfying 'bang,' Hermione rushed up the path, ignoring the loud squish of her toes in her shoes. After three minutes of pounding on the front door and continuing to get soaked, she finally gave up, setting her briefcase down. Ignoring the slight twinge in her gut, she pulled out her wand and muttered a quiet Alohomora. Much to her surprise, the door opened without a sound.

It shouldn't have been that easy. Not with all the wards Andromeda had in place.

This was not good.

Pushing the door open, Hermione walked into the front entrance. The entire house was cloaked in darkness, and she raised her wand, ready to strike should some burglar jump from the shadows. She was just about to step into the living room when a small creak arrested her movement.

Before she could turn around, the damage had been done.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Frozen by both the spell and fear, Hermione could only stand there, awaiting the next move from her attacker.

"Well, well, well. Look what the indiscriminate kneazle dragged in."

Malfoy.

Whatever terror she had felt quickly morphed into anger.

The smug look on this face, not to mention his dry clothes, made her wish she could reach out and smack him. But she was powerless to do anything, couldn't even react as he used his wand to lift one of her limp, sodden curls into the air for inspection. As he looked down his nose at her, she thought how unjust it was that a complete jerk like Malfoy had such clear skin. He had probably never had a pimple in his life.

He took a step back, folding his arms across his chest as he looked her over. The familiar smirk curled at his lips, and she wondered what she had done to set it off. And then she stopped caring, because it was then that she realized she was wearing a white shirt, which, thanks to the rain, was completely soaked through.

Merciful Merlin, could this day possibly get any worse?

"And to think Pansy actually said you had gotten pretty."

Hermione's hands ached to connect with his face. Or throat. At this point, she wasn't too particular.

He was just about to take another step towards her when a small cry came from the second level of the house.

"Finite," Malfoy breathed, and then he was stalking up the staircase, Hermione hot on his heels.

He stopped abruptly over Teddy's crib, and Hermione accidentally ran into him. Knocked off balance, his hands gripped the side of the crib, jolting the bed. If Teddy's wails were any indication, the child did not approve.

"Watch it, Granger," Malfoy hissed.

Hermione ignored him, peering down at her favorite toddler.

The boy was not even two years old and already he looked so much like his mother. With his dark eyes, dark hair, and a heart-shaped face, he was the spitting image of Tonks. He was even a metamorphmagus, just like her. Hermione couldn't help but smile, temporarily forgetting the unpleasantness hovering over her left shoulder.

The instant Teddy saw his visitors, he stopped crying. Standing up on chubby legs, he reached for Malfoy, all the while babbling and laughing.

Disbelieving what she was seeing, Hermione nudged Malfoy out of the way and scooped the child into her arms.