When Draco Met Hermione

Chapter 10: Casablanca Revisited

"Hello?" Hermione answered irritably.

"We're you sleeping?" Draco's lazy drawl said on the other line.

"No, I was watching Casablanca." Hermione smiled a bit at hearing his voice. He was a light at the end of a very dark tunnel that was her Friday night.

Draco propped himself up on some pillows and turned the volume up on his television. "Would you look at that, I was watching, or rather, I am watching Casablanca as well."

Hermione re-positioned herself on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She cradled the phone on her shoulder as she adjusted the volume on her TV.

Draco and Hermione watched the movie for a few minutes, not minding the silence on the other line. Draco was the first to begin speaking again. "So you're telling me that you will be happier with Victor Laszlo than Humphrey Bogart?"

Hermione sat up a bit, "When did I say that?"

"When we drove to New York." Hermione thought about it for a bit, and a few memories flooded back to her, but she didn't seem convinced. Her silence made Dracowish he was with her just so he could see her face scrunch up when she was thinking too hard, which was always.

"I never said that, I would never have said that!"

Draco sighed, "Alright, fine, have it you way. You weren't sleeping were you?" He glanced at the clock; it was almost two in the morning.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione looked at her bedside clock. 'Merlin! I didn't realize it was so late!' She thought as the clock read 2:01 AM.

Another heaving sigh came from Draco on the other line, "Because I haven't been sleeping lately. I really miss Helen. I mean, it's only been a few months, but I do miss having someone to come home to." He heard Hermione giggle on the other line, "Don't laugh! It's true! I have never really missed anything before, except my hair that was botched up by a terrible barber in my sixth year, but never a person. Maybe I'm coming down with something?" Dracopaused, waiting for a comment from the other line, but heard nothing but subtle breathing, so he continued, "Last night I was up until four in the morning watching some American show called "Leave It to Beaver" in Spanish! 'Hola! Senor Beaver! La la la.' I'm not well."

Hermione laughed just listening to Draco attempt to reenact the Spanish dialogue from "Leave It to Beaver." She thought for a moment at something to say that would make him feel, well, less un-well.

"Well, Draco, last night I went to bed at seven-thirty. And I haven't done that since I was in primary school, mind you."

Draco chuckled, "Well, that's the good thing about depression; you really get your rest!"

Hermione scowled at the receiver, "I am not depressed, thank you."

"Ok, fine," said Draco. He could feel her scowling at him, "Do you still sleep on the same side of the bed? You know the side you slept on when you were still with Harry?"

A small tinge of sadness filled Hermione for a moment, "I did for a while, but now I'm pretty much using the whole bed."

"That's bloody great Hermione. Me, I feel odd when just my leg wanders over the other side. Merlin, I miss her."

"You know what Draco, I don't miss Harry at all, I really don't."

"Not even a little bit?"

Hermione got out of bed and padded out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She leaned against the counter and took a sip. "You know what I miss?"

"What's that?"

"The idea of him. The whole having someone. I miss having someone, but I don't miss Harry."

Hermione walked back to her room and got back in bed. Dracowas silent on the other line for a bit.

"Maybe you're on to something," he said.

"And what's that Malfoy?"

"Maybe I only miss the idea of Helen." Draco leaned back on his pillows, eyes never wandering from the movie that was still playing. "No, I miss the whole Helen," he said with a sigh."

"Hey, Draco, it's the last scene." Both of them sat up and watched.

The characters of Rick and Renault are seen walking off saying the famous line, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Draco gave a low whistle as the credits came on, "Ooo...Ingrid Bergman, now, that's one low-maintenance woman."

"Low maintenance?" Hermione asked as she switched the TV off and snuggled into her covers.

"There are two kinds of women," explained Draco, "High maintenance and low maintenance."

"And Ingrid Bergman is low maintenance?"

"Definitely."

Hermione thought about it for a moment, "Well, what kind of woman am I?"

"Oh," said Draco, thinking of how to answer the question. He was glad at that moment that they were not in the same room. "Well, you're the worst type of woman. You're high maintenance but you think that you're low maintenance."

"Humph, well, I don't see that at all!"

"You don't see that?" said Draco incredulously. In a mocking voice meant to resemble Hermione's, he went on, "Waiter! I'll begin with a house salad, but I don't want the regular dressing, I'll have the balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side. And then the salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce ON THE SIDE." Draco paused for a moment, " 'On the side' is a very big thing for you Hermione."

Hermione was in shock. She didn't speak for a few moments, and Dracoknew he had set off a bomb in her, but she did ask, and, being the honest man that he was, he told her. Finally, he heard Hermione clear her throat. "Well, that happens to be the way that I like it."

"I know....high maintenance." Draco decided to change the subject quickly, " You know that last line in Casablanca? I think it's the best line of a movie ever."

A small "mmhmm," was all that was heard on Hermione's side.

"I'm definitely coming down with something," said Draco as he squirmed and twisted around on his side of the bed. "Perhaps it's a twenty-four hour tumor that's going around. You suppose I should owl a healer?"

"Don't be stupid," said Hermione, "You don't have a tumor and you don't need a healer."

"Well," snapped Draco, "How do you know? You might be a bloody genius, but you aren't a healer!"

"If you're so damn worried, then go ahead an owl a healer!" Hermione shouted.

Draco, who had calmed down a bit, was on the verge of a laughing fit. It was always a good time when Hermione was mad. "No," he drawled lazily, "they'll just tell me that it's nothing."

"Will you be able to sleep tonight?" Hermione looked at her clock. It read 2:57 A.M.

"If not, I think I'll be ok," replied Draco.

"But what will you do with all that time?"

Draco thought about it for a bit, "I think I'll stay up and moan. Perhaps I should practice? 'ooohhhh....uuuuhhhhhh...mmmmm...ooohhhhh...ahhhhhhhh......"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Goodnight Draco."

Draco stopped moaning and smiled, "Good night."