When Draco Met Hermione

Chapter 11: "Pepper on my Paprikash"

The months went by and Draco and Hermione found themselves in each other's company more often than not. One Saturday afternoon, they were finishing up their lunch, which consisted of hot dogs bought off a vendor. They were walking up Fifth Avenue towards the International Center of Photography on 94^th street.

"So what have you been doing Ms. Fancy-Pants?" Draco chuckled as he took a bite of his hot dog. Hermione just scowled. She had recently, in the last two months, received an offer (and she gladly accepted) to be the editor of a new magazine called Bella!, a magazine for women in the states who were witches living as muggles. It was going to be a big hit. Until this opportunity, Hermione was only offered writer's positions at Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet. She was very excited about the offer and the money she was receiving. She had dragged Draco out to SAKS when she received and accepted the offer, and just last week she made him apparate to London to shop at Harrods to "update" her wardrobe. She was dressed very smartly these days.

"Well," said Hermione with a hint of giddiness in her voice, "I have just purchased a fantastic piece of art at that little gallery you hate in SoHo called 'Mystic Meadow.' I am almost convinced that a witch or wizard painted it in muggle style; the accuracy of the centaurs' features is far too coincidental."

"Leave it to Genius Granger to overanalyze a painting based on the accuracy of the magical creature's triceps and torso length." Hermione scowled again. Lately, Draco had taken to calling her the most unfortunate nicknames, such as 'Genius Granger' which was said with obvious sarcasm, and her most hated one yet, 'On-the-side.'

Hermione finished her hotdog and dropped her waste in a trash bin on the sidewalk. Draco casually dropped his on the ground and kicked it away, winning him another sideways glance and scowl from Hermione. "And yourself Draco? Slaving away in your cushy job and dating airhead models with lesbian tendencies I suppose?"

"Now, play nice Granger, you know that was only that one time that a woman preferred a woman to me. Actually, I was in Chicago two days back for most of the morning working on getting funds for the next senatorial election. You were too 'busy' to ring me that day. Oh, and I did go back out with Allanna last night. It was lovely. She really is more intelligent that she seems," Draco said. Hermione shot him a look, and Draco wouldn't meet her gaze. They both knew that Draco had turned into a model-a-holic, whether it was a supermodel or a rising starlet, he was drawn to them for some reason. Hermione and Draco continued to walk, the spring air blowing bits of paper on the ground around their ankles. They both strolled in silence, thinking about Draco's last comment on Allanna. Hermione knew that Draco was far to intelligent to waste his conversation on women, no, girls, seeing as some of them were barely in their twenties, who, for the most part, were concerned only with near-starvation and sample sales. There were a few that Draco dated who were absolutely charming and intelligent, but Draco always found something bad about them, such as the size of their chin, or for one girl that Hermione had really liked,hisexcuse was that he thought she had too many dimples when she smiled.

"So, anyways," said Draco as they crossed 85^th street, "I had my dream again." Hermione gave him a puzzled look, "The one where I'm making love and the Olympic judges are watching?"

"Oh, yes, the Olympic Sex dreams, well, go on."

"Yes, well, so there I am, I've nailed the compulsories, so this is it, the finals. I got a nine point eight from the Canadian, a perfect ten from the American judge, and my mother, who was disguised as an East German judge gave me a five point six. I think it was my dismount that discouraged her from rating me higher."

"Ugh, only you would have a dream about a sex competition with your mum as the judge and her not rating you high enough. Have you ever thought about seeing a psych-wizard or witch? Perhaps there is something to that dream- - such as your constant battle to be accepted in your mother's eyes perhaps?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head, "Whatever you say Dr. Granger. Don't you ever have a weird re-occurring dream?"

"Well," said Hermione, "there is this one that I have had since I was about twelve."

This brought out a loud guffaw from, "'Ickle Hermione was having nasty, dirty dreams when she was twelve," chided Draco.

"Shut up! Anyways, oh, this is very embarrassing," said Hermione, who started to blush to the roots of her hair. Draco took her arm as they crossed over 86^th street and continued on towards the museum. Draco didn't let go of her arm, and Hermione either didn't notice, or didn't mind.

"So tell me," said Draco.

"Oh, alright, well, there's this guy- "

"What does he look like?"

"Oh, well, I don't know," said Hermione, "He's just, well, a faceless bloke I suppose. No, not a bloke, mind you, not some regular man off the streets, he's a gentleman."

"Alright, we've got a faceless guy. So far my Olympic Sex-a-thon is sounding less and less sordid...."

"Then he rips off my clothes...."

"You were having this dream when you were twelve?" Draco shook his head, trying to imagine a twelve year old Hermione trying to cope with the fact that a man with no face had just ripped her prissy white knickers off. He laughed silently and continued to listen.

"And, well, that's about it." Hermione suddenly jerked back; Draco, who was still holding her arm had pulled her to a stop. He was staring at her in disbelief.

"That's it? Your faceless guy rips off your clothes and that's the sex fantasy you've been having since you were twelve?" Draco shook his head once more and pulled her along as they continued walking to the museum. He was tired and achy from all the walking. He had insisted on taking a cab, but noooooooo, faceless-sex-rip-my-clothes Granger had wanted to walk.

Hermione, feeling embarrassed and tired, snapped back at him, "Well, sometimes I vary it a bit!"

"Well, which part? How he rips your clothes? Which article he rips first?"

"No, I vary what I'm wearing."

Silence passed between the two friends. The only sounds that surrounded them were those of cabs honking , people yelling, car alarms going off, and an occasional dog barking whenever they passed one on the street. It was a few moments before Hermione said anything.

"What? What did I say now?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Draco looked up and realized that they were in front of the museum. He held the door open for Hermione and they both entered a hall with a ceiling as high as the one in the great hall at Hogwarts. Draco sneezed and his sneeze echoed through the tall ceilings and rafters. Draco looked around and saw several photographs lit by lights above them. But they weren't very interesting, and he was no longer interested in pretending to enjoy abstract photography. And he felt the need to lighten things up after making fun of Hermione's sex dreams.

He pinched his nose and in a high-pitched voice said, "I have decided that for the rest of the day I am going to talk like this."

"Like what, a man with a sever sinus infection?" Hermione rolled her eyes and walked towards a photograph. She turned around to face Draco, pinching her nose as well, "Like this?" Her voice was high pitched and nasally.

Draco grinned, "Repeat after me. Pepper." With his nose pinched, it sounded more like "Peypah."

Hermione smiled and decided to play along, "Peypah!"

Draco literally screamed, "PEYPAH!" Hermione giggled, yelling "PEYPAH!" at the top of her lungs.

"Waitah, der ish too mush peypah on mah paprikash!" Draco looked at Hermione, encouraging her to follow suit.

"Waitah, der ish doo mush peypah...."

"On mah paprikash..."

Hermione giggled again, "On mah paprikash."

They both fell into a fit of giggles at hearing how silly they sounded, and listening to the echoes of their laughter drifting in the great hall of the museum. After they had calmed down a bit, they both sat down on a marble bench near the entrance, their backs to each other.

"Hey Granger?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go to a movie with me tonight?"

Pinching her nose, Hermione began to repeat what Draco had said thinking they were still playing their little game. Draco got up and walked to the other side to face Hermione.

"No," he said shaking his head, "Not to repeat, please, to answer. Would you like to go to the movies with me tonight?"

Hermione just stared at him for a moment. Her eyes flickered with a bit of emotion that Draco could not quite read, "Oh, oh, well, I'd love to Draco, but I...I can't."

Draco got up and pulled Hermione up with him. They started walking towards the exit. "What? Do you have a hot date tonight?"

Hermione stepped back out into the sunlight, suddenly relieved to be outside and amongst the New York crowd. She merely nodded.

"Really?" Draco and Hermione started walking back down Fifth Avenue towards Draco's building.

"Yeah, well, I was going to tell you all about it, but I..I don't know, I just felt strange...well, I felt strange about it."

Draco stopped walking and looked at Hermione. She saw a little bit of hurt flash across his eyes, but she dismissed the thought. "Why?" asked Draco. "Of all the people to feel strange around, I would think that I wouldn't be that person."

"Well," Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable under Draco's gaze. She began to bite her lip, a nervous habit of hers when she was feeling particularly vulnerable. "Well, because we're spending so much time together." She began to walk again, Draco catching up to her in a few strides.

"Oh, well, I think it's great that you have a date," he said, almost too enthusiastically for his taste.

"You do?"

"Yeah," said Draco. Hermione noted a hint of hesitation when he answered or responded to her.

"Are you going to wear that suit," said Draco, looking Hermione up and down in her pale blue pantsuit, white silk shirt, and a string of pearls on her neck. Personally, he thought she looked fantastic, but something in him stopped him from saying it out loud.

"I really...um....I don't know, why? I don't look completely unfortunate do I?" Hermione laughed nervously, waiting to see what Draco would say.

"I think you should wear skirts more often. I think you look really good in skirts." Draco mentally slapped himself for that comment. 'Skirts? I think you look really good in skirts? Gads! I sounded like a total git!' He looked over at Hermione, who was once again blushing, but a small smile played on her lips.

"I do?" Draco nodded. He decided it was time to change the subject......and fast. "You know I have a theory that Hieroglyphics are really an ancient comic strip about a character named 'Sphinxie.'" He waited for a laugh from Hermione, but was met with an uncomfortable silence.

"Draco, perhaps you should call Allanna and go and have a nice night at the cinema with her tonight."

"Oh, I don't feel like Allana tonight."

Hermione playfully slapped his arm, "She's not a restaurant you decide you don't want to eat at." Draco just smiled as he hailed a cab. He was tired of walking.