You've Got Owls!

Chapter Six

"Hermione Granger," the familiar voice drawled. She looked up, eyes as cold as ice cubes, and pursed her lips in guarded defense.

"Draco Malfoy," she nodded politely, albeit icily, and then turned pointedly away, and began twirling the rose in her fingers.

"Oh, how romantic," Draco smirked. "Meeting someone, Granger? Perhaps...Harry Potter?" To his chagrin, she did not take his bait, instead bit her lip in resolution and began humming thoughtfully.

Not defeated yet, he slid silkily into the chair across from her and fixed her with a disdainful gaze.

"That, Malfoy, is being saved for someone," she said, glaring. "So you can just escort yourself out the door, now, please."

"Oh that's okay," he sighed. "I'm rather comfortable here." She flicked him a hateful glance.

"Must you find it necessary to spoil every outing I have, Malfoy?"

"Well, you know, if only the Ministry would listen to my Mudblood Concentration camp ideas, we wouldn't even have to deal with each other, would we?" he sneered light-heartedly.

"Politically incorrect little bastard," she snorted. "Go join the Nazis."

"Gladly," he grinned.

Across the café, in a corner booth, a young couple was madly kissing over their steaming coffees. Draco followed Hermione's silent stare and raised one silvery eyebrow inquisitively, a twisted smile of malice on his face as he observed the ardent lovers.

"Oh come on," Hermione huffed. "Get a room, for Merlin's sake."

"Ah, but kissing in public is always much more fun," the blonde man sneered. "But, I doubt you'd know."

She sighed in irritation and checked her wand for the time again.

"Date's late, eh?" he chided, leaning an elbow on the table. "Tough luck. Well, with your face, I don't blame the poor guy."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. At least I don't look like my blood was sucked out of me at the age of two," she shot back sarcastically, sitting back.

"Granger, my childhood's a very sensitive subject for me," he said pitifully, pulling a mock-wounded pout.

"Ah, so the great Draco Malfoy has a weak spot!" she exclaimed with a grin.

"Quick, call the Daily Prophet!" he mocked with a sly smile. She laughed wryly and took a measuring sip of her coffee.

"Oh no, I'm going to save this to use against you to find out where you're hiding Voldemort," Hermione sniggered, pointing her wand threateningly at him, while a teasing grin played on her lips. He raised an eyebrow and drummed his fingertips against the table.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not that good of an Auror," he spat, though softly. She gave him a smug smile.

"Hey, it was me who got the most personal catches last year, not you!"

"Dragon Enterprises got most firm catches, Granger," he said, smiling in amusement.

"Don't count on holding that title," she warned. He rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair, folding his arms across his chest, with a look on his face resembling that of the Cheshire Cat.

"Word on the street has it that your firm has been working on the same case for two whole years," he snickered haughtily. Out of her peripheral vision, Hermione saw the arduous couple get up and leave in a loud clatter of chairs scraping.

"If the street's where you're getting your information, Malfoy, you definitely shouldn't get attached to that title," she shot back venomously.

"Come off it! In a few months, your firm won't even exist!"

Her eyes hardened, and she turned quickly away. When he saw her reaction he felt a sharp sting in his stomach, an enfolding nauseous and dark pitted feeling that made him want to curl up and disappear.

"Look, I'm sorry..." he started.

"Sorry for what?" she spat angrily, her large watery eyes glaring at him accusingly. He was shocked by the ferocity in her stare. "For being a rich, stuck-up snob? For effortlessly achieving something I can never have? For helping the Ministry take away my only dream?" She leaned in, her tone cruelly biting and rasping. "Exactly what is it you're sorry for, Draco Malfoy?"

He backed away, uncertain as to what to say. He wanted desperately to take the pain out of her eyes, but her defenses had gone up, and there was nothing he could do to get through.

"Hey, it's not my fault your firm failed," he tried reasonably. Her face twisted into agonizing hatred and disgust.

"You just don't get it, do you?" she asked, voice hollow. Her eyes hardened suddenly and lethally. "Get. Out. Now."

With a careless shrug, he nodded, rose and swept out into the chilly December night.

*

Dear HG,

I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to Café Three...you have no idea how I'm kicking myself as a write this! You will probably never want to hear from me again, and yes, that's fair. I don't blame you. But please understand that under no circumstances short of an emergency would I have left you hanging like that. I would love to be able to give you a good excuse that might satiate your anger, but unfortunately the mishap that caused me to miss our rendezvous is...not that simple. It involves complicated family issues that I can't discuss right now. Please, please respect this decision. Whether you forgive me or not is your decision, just understand that I never meant to hurt you.

Deepest apologies,

London557

Hermione pursed her lips as she finished reading the letter, and let a frustrated sigh escape her mouth. She wanted desperately to forgive her friend, but anger and resentment still frothed heavily inside her.

"Hermione, dear," a little voice inside her head piped up unexpectedly. "The reason you're angry is because of Draco Malfoy, not London - who obviously, by his letter, had the best of intentions! Really, learn to sort out the gentlemen from the scum!" Her mouth twitched a little and before she knew it she was grinning reluctantly.

So maybe he had been a little neglectful...no, on the contrary, he had be entirely caring towards both her and his family, who clearly needed him desperately. How could she blame him for an 'emergency' - and what was wrong with a guy who cared enough about his family that he'd skip a date to be with them in their time of need? Plus, he had worded it all so nicely...

But he HAD left her stranded with that dumb prick, Malfoy. Her hands clenched in frustration. Ah, but it wasn't his fault Malfoy was a lard-headed brat! He couldn't help it if some of his gender were completely evil!

Sighing in resignation, she got out her quill and began to scratch out a letter.

Dear London -

I forgive you. You obviously had something that was very important that needed to be dealt with, and I completely understand. Family is very important. I know that, because my mother died a few years ago of cancer. I still have so many memories of her, sometimes when I'm in my office I practically see her, as if she was a ghost and part of the very wood and paint of the building. She helped me so much with this firm that it's like she's alive through it - which is part of the reason I love working here so much... I feel that everything I do here is a homage to her.

I'm being so entirely sappy and trite! The truth is that when you didn't turn up at Café Three, you left me to face the Worst Wizard in the World - besides You-Know-Who, of course. You probably know him - Draco Malfoy - and he has made my life living hell for the past ten years! He loves to poke fun at my hardships, as if being born rich made him somehow better than me! People like that really confuse me. How can you think that someone is better just because of the situation they were born in? Some of the most prolific writers, artists and politicians come from situations that were less than ideal. I don't understand how one could be so bigoted. But it doesn't really matter - he's just a stuck-up snob, but I can't help but hope someday he realizes that the world does NOT revolve around him - and that I'm nearby to laugh in his face when it does happen.

Love,

HG