Ordinary Just Won't Do

"Ordinary Just Won't Do"

Ch. 3

Hermione made her way into the Cooling Cauldron hoping her Pepper-Up potion would cure the fatigue that would surely follow her throughout the day. After she had Flooed home, Mr. Sandman had refused to bother her and she had sat up the entire night with a cup of coffee and a mind full of memories.

The friend whose shift she had finished yesterday was wiping off a table right next to the door and greeted her with a warm smile as the door clicked softly behind her.

"Morning Granger," Ella Connor smiled as Hermione tied on an apron.

Hermione looked back up at the girl who had always looked like Angelina Johnson to her. Ella was very much like Angelina, long black hair, a love for Quidditch, and an attitude many would die for. Ella was rumored to be named for a long dead witch singer, who had crossed over to the Muggle world, by the name of Ella Fitzgerald. Yet Hermione had never asked about any blood relation while becoming fast friends with the hyper young lady.

"Morning Ella," Hermione replied as she always did. Hermione always took comfort from Ella calling her by her surname as a greeting.

Ella made her way over to her boss quickly pocketing two galleons for a tip, "Have you heard about the supposedly handsome man who, so boldly, asked to be billed monthly for the Imperial Suite over at the Tavern?"

Hermione struggled not to smile, "Yeah."

"Rumor was that he stopped by here after renting the room," Ella continued as if she hadn't heard Hermione's answer.

"Jaden," Hermione nodded at the youth, who sat the bar reading a book.

The blonde looked up from her book with a smile, "Hermione, Ella, you won't believe this, but I was at work when he came in yesterday."

Ella immediately put her wand in her apron pocket and stood in front of the girl, "What's his name? Is he really as handsome as they said?"

"His name is Draco Xavier Malfoy, son of Lucius Caesar Malfoy the fourteenth! Oh Merlin, he is hot! He has these deep gray eyes, this long, flowing, blond hair, and robes that looked like they were too good to even come out of The Red Arrow! The man just threw me Six galleons, four sickles and 23 knuts as a tip," Jaden gushed excitedly as Hermione struggled not to laugh.

At that Hermione couldn't hold her laughter in any longer and it she was doubled over before long, "Jaden, don't let the long lineage of pureblood Malfoy's fool you. Detective Draco Xavier Malfoy can't do half as much damage as his father. He is rich but his bark is much worse than his bite."

"So you know him huh?" Ella questioned, as Hermione tried to turn from them the memories of Draco's endless fan clubs running through her brain.

"Mrs. Hoddies said that he is in town just for you Hermione," Jaden said closing her book.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Jaden why aren't you at school?"

"It's the holidays, I don't have to be in New Orleans for another two months," Jaden replied smiling, knowing that she was annoying her much older friend.

"So he's here for you Granger? Where do you know this handsome man from? He's not the one you refuse to speak of is he?" Ella questioned as Hermione handed a young man a mug of coffee.

Hermione turned a cold eye back to her best friend of sorts, "He's an old friend from school."

"School?" Jaden questioned raising an eyebrow. "We didn't even know you attended a school."

Ella turned around picking up a tray of mugs, "It's been five years Hermione, there is too much we don't know about you."

Hermione watched her friend sashay to a table to the right of the bar, "I don't want to talk about it."

"I bet grandfather knew," Jaden murmured before asking for a drink.

"Latte or Coffee?" Hermione asked acting as if she hadn't heard Jaden's comment.

"Neither, I want something different, I want an Espresso," Jaden replied as Ella made her way back to the bar.

"Jaden you really want to know what school I went to ten years ago?" Hermione asked sitting the drink in front of the girl who was about the same age as she was when she had first become friends with Draco.

"Yes, I really do," Jaden replied her blue eyes twinkling like Dumbledore's.

"I want to know too," Ella replied leaning on the bar looking up at her friend. "Because Jaden and I are alumni of New Orleans Institute of Witchcraft & Wizardry. We are always wondering where you got that brain of yours."

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry in England," Hermione replied proudly, revealing more of herself than she had in five years.

"You are joking right?" Ella asked dumbfounded, Hogwarts was well known throughout the world, and everyone wished to be invited to Hogwarts.

"No joke ladies. You are looking at the Head Girl of Hogwarts from 1997/1998, the smartest witch that has come to Hogwarts many say," a deep voice drawled from behind Jaden.

All three looked over at Draco as he sat beside Jaden and smirked at Hermione, his emotions were back in check, and he could write her off a lot easier at the moment, "Miss Granger, get me a drink please."

Hermione didn't even ask what she just poured a cup of coffee introducing her friends as she sat it in front of him, "Detective these are my friends Jaden Simpson, who you've met, and Ella Connor."

"Nice to met you ladies," Draco smiled charmingly. "I see Miss Granger here, has never told you of her greatest years."

"Did you know Harry Potter? We have only tales and Wizarding photos of him here, but my grandfather met him once, while at a pub in England. I was only six when the war started so I never got to go to Europe with grandfather," Jaden rambled to Draco, sticking a stray piece of bouncy blond hair behind her ear.

"Know Harry Potter?" Draco laughed taking a long sip of his black coffee. "Didn't she tell you?"

Ella served a couple as she asked, "Tell us what?"

"Detective," Hermione warned, cleaning up the other side of the bar.

"I guess there are something's she thought she was better of with you all not knowing," Draco shrugged as if he didn't know why she would keep anything to herself about her past. However, he did know, she wanted people to think nothing of her, but Draco knew if anyone would believe she was alive people were going to have to whisper.

"What shouldn't we know Mr. Malfoy?" Jaden asked looking over at the man who obviously knew how to tick Hermione off.

Ella put her hand on her hip as she stood next her friend, "Now Granger, it was a simple question! Did you or did you not know Harry Potter? Tell the girl, it's not as if it could get you killed."

Draco threw a smug look over at Hermione who whispered, "If you only knew."

"Tell them Miss Granger, they're American, they can't have known too much about Potter's adolescence," Draco drawled, as if he were omniscient.

"Detective if you don't shut your mouth soon, you will be treated to a physical contact that I have not shared with you in far too many years," Hermione threatened through clenched teeth. "Now, Jaden, Harry and I were best friends for many years, and the man sitting next to you was his greatest enemy at Hogwarts."

"His, greatest enemy? What about you? Did you hate him too?" Ella asked crossing her arms over her chest directing another waitress to her table.

Hermione looked at Draco, she could remember so many moments when people would ask her the exact question, and she had only one answer, "Love at first sight is easy to understand. It's when two people have been looking at each other for years that it becomes a miracle. You can't hate someone whom your heart is determined to love."

"We have a history that even the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't stop," Draco smirked at her answer, one he had heard her give so often.

"A history that you have never spoken of Granger?" Ella demanded raising both eyebrows.

"It's much too complicated," Hermione replied trying to dodge the eyes that were staring at her.

"Too complicated I must say," Draco drawled pulling himself off the stool and sitting five sickles and 8 knuts on the bar. "I must go, I have some shopping to accomplish. I just stopped by to tell you, Miss Granger, that an unexpected friend came through last night and you might want to see the results. Good day ladies."

Hermione watched with dazed eyes as he sauntered out of the door without even a look back. How did he go from emotional to cold and uncaring? Still, something lingered in his voice that had drawn her to him eleven years ago in their sixth year. His voice always betrayed him.

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Hermione walked out of the Cooling Cauldron quite tired of her friends questions. Jaden had kept her seat throughout the day and Ella had continued to work yet paused when she had a question to throw at Hermione. Now Hermione was regretting never telling them much about herself.

She was walking toward Miriam Hoddies shop when she noticed Draco walking into The Red Arrow, the best place to purchase robes in Waving Wands. So instead she walked over to the whitewashed building and made her way in, noticing his look of triumph as he found a thin green robe much like the one he wore yesterday.

She stood beside a rack of blue robes watching him move, she couldn't remember the last time she had just stood and watched him. He looked older, his long blond hair looked a few steps away from gray hair, his eyes didn't gleam like they use to, and he had a tan. She wished she could ask him how that happened, during the war she could only remember three instances in which he actually tanned.

Hermione almost smiled, Palau brought back the greatest memory she would ever have, the night she lost her innocence. That was also the night he had proposed. He had gotten down on one knee and confessed his heart to her. Who was she to refuse him? However, deep down she knew that refusing him was out of the question, at the time, she was too deep to let go.

"Are you admiring my good taste in robes or are you just watching me?" Draco asked not even glancing back at her. His eyes were trained on the robes in front of him.

"Neither, I was just waiting for you to come out of your moment of vanity so I could speak to you," Hermione replied clearing her mind of the fleeting memories.

"You want to speak with me? I would think after this morning the only thing on your mind would be slapping me," Draco drawled almost coldly, the edge in his voice covering up any other emotion he could possibly feel.

"Don't tempt me," she grumbled moving toward him. "I am just interested in the information you said you have."

"Ah, yes, I am rather busy at the moment though. Why don't we meet later, so you may go home and relax," he replied almost distractedly, his eyes washing over the deep black robes with the long formal like tails.

 "I agree on meeting you somewhere but relaxing is not on my priority list at the moment," Hermione said, taking the formal robes from his hands and sitting it back on the rack. "Those robes are a bit warm, even for dinner in the Corner Tavern Hall."

Draco didn't reply, his mother's sense of fashion had just over taken his senses and he had spotted an azure dress robe that was screaming to be worn, "Miss Granger, why don't we meet for dinner at the Corner Tavern and we can discuss the information?"

"Detective I haven't bought dress robes since that Sixth year Christmas Ball," Hermione objected, "and I certainly cannot go to dinner at the Corner Tavern in anything but dress robes."

"We are in a robe shop Granger, " Draco pointed out making his way over to the long beautiful robe hanging from a gold rack on the wall.

Hermione shook her head following him, "Can't we meet at the Golden Hall and talk over a Butterbeer?"

"No, I haven't had a decent meal in weeks. Months are more like it. I want to eat and talk about this information, I want you to wear this robe," he replied pulling the robe of the hanger and inspecting it like his father used inspect Narcissa's ball robes. Making sure it fit her, not only in size, but in color and personality.

Hermione's mouth fell open, "Detective Malfoy, I don't have that kind of money! That's a Blake Desenhador Da Veste original!"

"You aren't going to buy it Miss Granger, I am," Draco replied looking at the price tag, to him money was no object.

"Detective, that robe has got to be too much for a gift!" she objected. She never liked anyone spending a lot of money on her, and the robe cost 186 galleons, 11 sickles and eight knuts the equivalent of 900 US dollars.

"Money does not matter to a Malfoy, and you will wear that robe, as a gift tonight. Why don't you try it on, just so we can make adjustments," Draco said turning the dress over to her.

At that a lady walked over to them with a smile, "No need to try it on, I can make adjustments without all that."

"Good, go on, I'll still be here when you are finished," he smiled turning away from her.

Hermione followed the woman to the back of the shop standing still, with her arms in the air, as the woman murmured spells that directed the measuring tape to measure her. All the while Hermione thought about his cold ways toward her yet he was willing to buy an expensive dress for her.

"He is a handsome man, Miss. Are you two engaged? I mean it's obvious in the looks he throws you, yet his expression stays strong, stern, and royal like," the lady, who was now jotting her measurements down, said smiling.

"No," Hermione whispered, shaking back a memory, "we are just friends."

"A friend that gives such expensive presents! It must be nice," the lady smiled as the tape dropped to the floor.

"So when do I pick the dress up?" Hermione asked looking at the red-haired witch for the first time since she spoke.

"You don't, it seems that Mr. Desenhador Da Veste had you in mind when he was designing this dress, it is perfect for you," she replied leading Hermione out of the room and back to the counter.

Draco was leaning against the counter waiting for them, "How did the fitting go?"

Hermione couldn't even bring herself to look at him, her past was living right before her eyes, and she could barely stand it, "Fine."

"The dress is 186 galleons, 11 sickles and eight knuts," the dressmaker said putting the dress in a satin bag with the hanger coming from the top.

"Bill me, at Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley in London, England. The name is Draco Malfoy," Draco replied slowly as the witch wrote it down.

"You're the Heir of the Malfoy Millions? Lucius Caesar Malfoy the thirteenth's grandson?" the dressmaker eye's widened in surprise. "I should have known! You are the spitting image of him and his son!"

"You knew my grandfather?" Draco asked interested, wondering how this American woman would know his grandfather.

"Knew him? I was his favorite during Ball season. He could dance a lady off her feet! There isn't a prominent Wizarding family in the South who doesn’t know the elder generation of Malfoy's," she spoke proudly remember the days of old with a fleeting smile.

"What family are you from Madame?" he asked, searching his memory for any mention of a ball from his father.

"The Smythe's, we are an old family who originated in England, my grandfather was your great-grandfather's best friend," she spoke with pride that all Pureblood families did.

"You look to be too young to dance with my grandfather. Did you ever dance with my father?" Draco asked not noticing Hermione's sighs or annoyed air.

"I started dancing with your grandfather when I just a girl, about 13, he was over thirty. I never much liked his son and his son never really liked me," the dressmaker spoke as if Lucius were standing right in front of her. "When he and his wife first visited after their marriage I felt rather sorry for her."

Draco chuckled, many felt sorry for his mother, the moment she said she had dance with his grandfather she struck a cord. There was a story in the Malfoy family that one of the men had been in love with a young girl. And he refused to dance with another, he wanted to leave his wife to marry the girl but the girl's father refused to allow his daughter to be put to shame like that. Especially with the man supposedly being the girl’s father's closest friend.

Draco looked up at the woman who strained his grandparent's relationship, "Are you Jane Smythe?"

"I am," she replied smiling.

Now for the first time, Draco was staring in the face of the woman that his father often raved and ranted about his father being idiotically enslaved by. Draco's grandfather had been in love with this woman his whole adult life and his father had blamed her for his grandfather wanting to be buried on her grounds instead of the Malfoy Vault with his wife.

"You were in love with my grandfather?" Draco whispered as things he used to hear, when spying on his parents, came back to him.

At that Jane seemed to tense, "I do not know how it happened, it just did, he was always at Isidore, and he always seemed to shoo my, would be suitors, away."

"Yes, Isidore, your home, where he is buried. I shall come out there someday and make the Malfoy's friendship with the Smythe's once more," Draco replied as he prepared to leave the shop.

"That would be nice, good-day," Jane Smythe said turning and disappearing into the back of her shop.

"Detective, why did you think I wanted to stand there and listen to your conversation about the anarchy that exists inside Pureblood families?" Hermione demanded as they exited the shop.

Draco just smiled handing her the dress robe, "Be at the Corner Tavern at six, we wouldn't want you to be late."

"Detective!" Hermione called as he made his way over to The Ivy Bush, a Mediwizard shop.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Draco asked turning around to face her.

"Thank you for the lovely dress," she smiled genuinely trying to break some kind of common ground between them.

"That's what I like to hear," he drawled charmingly. "You are more than welcome."

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Hermione walked out of the cab running her fingers down the perfect blue robes that now hugged her figure. She was nervous. It was one thing to meet in her living room and even in his hotel room. This was too much like a date for her to handle. Even in the beginning they didn't 'date,' they never took trips to Hogsmeade on Saturdays, they didn't do the things normal teenage couples would have. The closest they ever got to that was attending the Christmas Ball in their sixth year together.

All in all she was inexperienced with this kind of thing. However, she knew that Draco would show the entire world his society skills and somehow make it seem that she was of the same caliber. She sighed loudly, it brought back another memory when his mother invited them to a Society Ball and Draco made her seem as though she had more 'training' than she really then. And it was at that moment when she found out a reality that had changed her decisions to this day. It was that day when she figured out that Draco was too good for the likes of her. She believed that they were equals in ability, intelligence, but when it came to out right, who was better, Draco won in her eyes, and not because of his pureblood.

But that was something she had never told Draco, the reason it was so easy for her to walk away from their engagement, was because in all honesty she believed that after a while Draco would get tired of his 'simple' wife.

"Time to face reality," Hermione whispered to herself as she entered the Corner Tavern.

The moment the door clicked behind her, she spotted him, looking quite regal in his jet black robes. She tried not to smile as she walked over to him, throwing a smile at Jaden, then linking her arm with his.

"You look amazing, Miss Granger," Draco whispered as the House-elf opened the Dinner Hall doors for them.

Hermione looked over at him as they entered the full Hall and noticed his face was cool, calm, and collected. Just as every other Malfoy before him, but this Malfoy was different, when it was just you and him, the mask would come down.

"Thank you Detective," she replied softly as the House-elf directed them to a table.

Draco pulled the chair out for her before sitting himself in front of her, "How do you like this place?"

"I love it, it's beautiful Detective," Hermione replied looking around at the age old paintings and collectibles.

"You look as if you belong here," he smiled handing the elf the menu. " I want the Creole Special and a bottle of your best champagne preferably French mid 1st century."

Hermione handed the elf the menu, "I'll have the same thank you."

"Now," Draco sighed making two thick folders appear, "to business."

"Yes, what do you have here?" she asked as the elf poured them a class of the almost 2000 year old wine.

"I have the track record of four very bad men and a sure fire way to get evidence against them in trying to kill you," Draco smiled opening a folder slowly.

"Without putting you in danger?" she questioned taking a short sip of the wine.

"Now that is not a guarantee," he replied shrugging lightly. "But the only way I won't be in danger is if this doesn't leak. And you know the Ministry, this will leak."

Hermione shook her head defiantly, "Then this is not a plan I want any part of if it's going to get you killed or worse."

"Look Granger," Draco replied sharply, bringing his forceful gray eyes toward her, "this is the only way to go without killing YOU! It's not like you care whether I live or die, so it's best if I die giving you freedom!"

Hermione's mouth was open and her blood pressure was rising, those few words opened a Pandora's box that nothing else had. She struggled to keep her voice low and ladylike, "How dare you insinuate that I don't care! Why do you think I ran five years ago? Not for Harry, he has always taken care of himself, not for Ron, he'd be fine; not for my parents, they'd been dead since the year the war began! I ran for you, Detective, and you only! When those men vowed to kill me and the people I love, I could only think of you, you, Detective. I loved you more than I loved myself! An expression many didn't understand and one that I still live by. God, Detective do you realize that I, bookworm Granger, never lived before your love? So don't, ever try to tell me, I don't care!"

"I don't need protection from those men," Draco whispered drinking the last of his wine.

She sighed loudly, forcing back tears, "You need protection from me."

"From you?" Draco asked his eyes turning to small slits. "That's a comment we will discuss later. Eat, please."

They ate in silence, Hermione was holding back tears from wounds she had acquired long ago, and Draco was thinking. His mind wouldn't let him forget her words, they were bouncing off the walls of his brain, forcing him to remember.

"I have several Auror documents that state crimes committed by these men, Blaise said several of them are facing Azkaban for war time crimes," Draco said as the elf poured him another drink and cleared his dishes.

"None of them are clean?" Hermione asked as the elf did the same for her.

"None of them, surprisingly enough, each of them have something on their record," Draco replied opening the top folder. "Pansy's cousin should be in Azkaban already for using an AK before War times began, he killed an old lady. But the Rosier & Parkinson millions must have saved him."

Hermione sighed loudly sitting her glass on the table, "Detective, I can't seem to concentrate on the matter at hand."

"OK," Draco replied sending the folders away with a wave of his wand, "then lets dance."

Hermione shook her head in refusal, "No, Detective, I haven't danced since your mother's party ten years ago."

Draco stood beside her, his hand in hers, slowly pulling her up, "Then it's about time you did it again."

Hermione was slowly pulled to her feet, she tried to refuse as Draco wrapped his arms around her and lead her onto the floor, "Draco, please I don't feel comfortable."

"What did you say?" he asked staring down at her with more love than he thought he'd ever understand.

"I said I don't feel comfortable," she repeated, keeping up with him better than she imagined she could've.

"Not that, you said my name, it's a welcomed changed from the cold Detective," Draco smiled slyly, it took her back again, and she again she closed herself off.

"Please," she begged as they continued to waltz. "Detective, I am not made for this."

"My mother seemed to think you were," he replied his smile gone. "You dance beautifully."

"I am not the woman you believe me to be Detective," Hermione whispered making him halt abruptly.

"Then who are you?" he asked letting her go and walking toward their table.

"I -- don't know, I really don't. Goodnight," she replied hurriedly turning toward the Dinner Hall doors leaving Draco watching her and seething.

"Granger," Draco said as he caught up with her.

"What?" she asked turning around quickly, she needed to run before it all came back.

"I need a break from this, owl me when you are ready to conduct business," Draco drawled coolly, in a tone that gave Hermione goose bumps.

Hermione just closed her eyes tightly, concealing two stray tears that fell down her cheek as she walked outside and hailed a carriage for the ride home.