The Founder's Lockets

'Draco! Draco!'

Draco opened his eyes and was dazed by the sunlight cascading through the open window. He thought back to the visions he had the night before about a glittering object that he couldn't quite remember. He left his thoughts unsettled and set them out of his mind.

Rubbing his eyes he stared at the stunning creature that was Hermione, leaning over to wake him from his sleep.

She almost didn't. He looked so peaceful; there was this vulnerability about him that wasn't there when he was awake.

'Rise and shine, sleepy head,' she whispered, and kissed him on the forehead, 'your mother is going to take us sightseeing, remember?'

'I detest that name,' he said haughtily, putting on an upper class accent.

'What name?' asked Hermione, genuinely.

'Sleepy head! Derr!' He sat up and admired the room. It was a lot more beautiful than his room and most of the 17^th century antique furniture was very much intact. The ceiling and walls were adorned with gilded cherubs, and elaborate murals framed with intricate patterns of gold. The four-poster bed, Draco was lying in, had a gilded frame, red velvet drapes, to match the bedclothes, and gold tassels. All of which seemed decorously suited together.

'Oh, well what do you want me to call you?' she said getting slightly annoyed.

'Hmmm, how about sex-god?' mused Draco, sensing her annoyance and pushing it a bit further.

'Um, how about no?'

'Okay, how about kitten?' he asked, while scrambling out of bed without a stich of clothing on.

He walked to the heavily decorated dressing table where Hermione was sitting, in a gold and scarlet velvet armchair, brushing her hair.

'Well, kitten, you'd better get some clothes on because your mother is meeting us down stairs in about half an hour for breakfast – SO GET A MOVE ON!!!!'

Draco loved it when she got mad. It felt good that he could arouse such passion in her, even if it was through anger.

 

Dudley barged in, crashing open the door and almost knocking it off it's hinges.

Startled, Arabella leaped over to where Harry was sitting and squeezed his hand tight. Harry wasn't sure exactly what she was afraid of crashing in through his door, but he kept the question to himself.

Dudley shot them a look of suspicion and eyed Arabella and Harry's hands firmly clamped together.

He glared at Harry and then spoke to Arabella, 'Your mother and father are going now and my dad said that Harry's going to help you unload your things.'

Dudley was trying to play it cool in front of Arabella who noticed and used it to her advantage.

'And are you going to help too?' she asked innocently, while she fluttered her eyelashes, 'We could use the extra help.'

'Um, yeah, sure,' replied Dudley, taking the bait, like a fish on a line.

Harry's eyes darted from one person to another. It was like a tennis match. Arabella surprised him with her sly and cunning behaviour and Dudley surprised him by accepting Arabella's request. Usually Dudley stayed away from any form of manual labour.

'So come on Harry!' exclaimed Arabella, whilst dragging him up, 'Let go unload our things from the truck.'

'Yeah, sure,' murmured Dudley as he and Harry trudged along behind her.

 

'Just as well your mother said she'd meet us downstairs and not in our rooms, huh?' said an over enthusiastic Hermione, excited by the day ahead of them.

'Yeah, she'd never approve, if she did find out we'd end up with rooms in different hotels.'

Hermione giggled and pressed the button on the magical elevator. It opened up immediately and they both stepped in.

The whole Montrouge family was staying at the Chateau de Montrouge, which (in Hermione's opinion) oozed with elegance. It was originally owned by the family but was now a famous hotel, known throughout the magical community of France.

'La Rouge Grenouille Jambes Restaurant, s'il vous plait.' Draco asked the elevator in a perfect French accent.

'You didn't tell me you could speak French, Draco,' said Hermione, who could only say a few basic words, after her holiday there before third year.

'I don't,' stated Draco, plainly, 'I just know that's the name of the restaurant and I just know that's how you say 'please'.'

'Oh,' said a relived Hermione, who didn't like Draco to have the upper hand.

It was funny, before they started dating neither had really given a damn about each other, except when it came to school and Harry. Draco confessed to her before that he had always tried to out do her at school, but not because he wanted to, but because Lucius wanted him to. And the fact that she was Muggleborn made it worse.

He had tried every underhanded method of beating her but to no avail. So he decided to fight fire with fire and started studying her and studying like her in the library. Draco studied her every move, her every step, to insure that he could pick up her secret techniques.

He began to notice more than just her study habits; he noticed that her hair was no longer horribly bushy, like it was in first year, but long and wavy, complementing the contours of her face perfectly. He also noticed her cute little habits like twirling her hair when she thought and the way her chestnut brown eyes could look right through you, questioning your soul.

It didn't take a long time for Hermione to notice Draco's presence. She pretended, almost even to the point that she believed it, that she didn't know he was there. But somewhere deep inside she enjoyed his attention, even though she believed in her own heart that Draco Malfoy could never love a Muggle born. She craved for his attention. Harry and Ron had never looked at her that way and it was not that she'd wanted them to. She considered them always as friends, even brothers. But she longed for some affection so she sought out his.

He hated himself for feeling that way and he resented her for making him feel that way but no matter what he did he just couldn't let his feelings go. So he and Hermione began to date secretly, meeting in deserted classrooms and owling each other messages. The only other people who knew about the relationship were Narcissa and Harry. This made Hermione extremely guilty but she knew it was for the best. She knew that Ron would, well, she knew Ron.

 

Arabella had set Dudley to work on a particularly large box and she and Harry were carrying a crate of books between them.

'Come on Dudley, you can do it!' coaxed Arabella, noticing Dudley's 'there is no way I am carrying that box' expression.

'Oh, if you say so,' sighed Dudley, who had fallen for her like a tree cut down by a chainsaw.

Harry stifled a laugh; he was amused at the idea that Dudley was affected suddenly by a girl and was doing manual work to impress her. He was also amused that Dudley's actions were all in vain as she liked Harry. Harry wasn't sure if she liked him for him or whether it was because he was famous but at the moment he didn't care, all that mattered was that he had the girl instead of Dudley.

'That takes care of him,' whispered Arabella in Harry's ear, 'now we can go upstairs to my new room.'

'Dudley, just pop the box up the stairs and into the attic, okay.'

Arabella and Harry crossed the threshold and stared at the horrible fungoid colour that surrounded them. It wasn't the mildew or the mould; it was actually the colour of the walls, ceiling and floor.

'It almost like it's grown since I've last been here,' mused Arabella who noticed Harry's disgusted expression, 'and that was only a couple of day ago.'

'It's er, different,' stated Harry who didn't trust himself to say anything more.

'Come on, my room is this way.' She practically dragged him up the stairs, forced him right and pushed him into a room.

'Wow!' he exclaimed surprised at how different the room was from downstairs. The carpet instead of being a grotesque fungus green was a plush cream colour, soft, almost like fur. The walls were covered in white and gold wallpaper.

'I take it that you like my room.'

'Definitely.'

'It's too bad that we have to go to Hogwarts in just a week, I'm going to miss just looking at it,' sighed Arabella, 'I haven't even lived here yet and I miss it already. I can't even really unpack because I'm leaving so soon.'

'Aren't you looking forward to Hogwarts?'

'Yeah, I am looking forward to it, and don't take this the wrong way, but I miss my old friends and my old school and I don't think that this, I mean Hogwarts, could ever replace them. Don't take it that I don't like you, because I do. And it not because you're famous either, I genuinely like you. But I just feel that I don't fit in here.'

'That's okay, I've never felt like I've fit in either, until I got to Hogwarts,' sympathised Harry. 'Trust me, they'll love you.'

 

After a brief moment in the elevator Hermione and Draco found themselves standing in front of a large sign with the words La Rouge Grenouille Jambes Restaurant in big red letters.

'What exactly does that mean?' asked Draco.

'It means The Red Frog Legs Restaurant.'

They stood outside waiting for Narcissa, savouring the delicious smells seeping from within.

Draco's stomach grumbled, 'I didn't think stomachs could talk but by the sound of it mine's telling me I'm hungry.'

'It is not.'

'Don't be so pedantic, Hermione,' said a voice behind them, making them jump.

'Oh, it you, mother,' said Draco, putting on his rude and sarcastic façade.

 

Harry was more than happy to stay and 'help' the Macmillans, especially Arabella. Dudley, on the other hand, conked it and passed out through sheer exhaustion.

'Oh my Diddy Dinky Duddydums!' shrieked Aunt Petunia, flinging her arms around him, when Bill, Alexis, Arabella and Harry heaved him in through the front door.

'What happened?' Uncle Vernon asked, his teeth clenched, trying to keep calm.

'He just collapsed,' said a bewildered Alexis, 'one minute he was carrying a box the next minute we hear this crash and he's on the floor.'

'Fucking hell,' swore Uncle Vernon under his breath.

Bill heard Uncle Vernon's comment and ignored it, 'Excuse me, but shouldn't we get him on the couch or something?'

'Oh, right.'

They all dragged Dudley into the living room and, with great difficulty, hoisted him up onto the caramel coloured leather sofa. It creaked and groaned under his weight.

'I think you should all leave and, and let Dudley get his rest,' said Aunt Petunia, obviously shaken by the ordeal.

'Yes, I believe we should,' said Bill, politely but awkwardly at the same time, 'thanks for all your help.'

Harry sensed a slight tinge of animosity radiating from Uncle Vernon's direction. He also sensed that he was going to end up, somehow, taking the blame for Dudley's little incident. So he offered to see the Macmillans out.

Just as well, because as soon as they walked out of the room, Dudley regained consciousness and told his parents that Harry hadn't being working all that efficiently, in fact not doing any work at all. Leaving Dudley to do all of it.

Harry was walking down the corridor when he heard a very hostile voice shouting his name.

'HARRY!!!!!!' bellowed Uncle Vernon.

 

 

 

After a very long and hearty breakfast of 'oeufs et jambon', 'pain grille' and 'croissants avec fraise, abricot et framboise confiture' Narcissa, Draco and Hermione set off to explore Paris.

Their first stop was the Eiffel tower. There was a lot of wizarding history concerned with the tower so Hermione was keen to go all the way to the top, unlike Narcissa, who had a fear of heights, and Draco, who had inherited his mother's phobia. (But wasn't going to admit it.)

After a terrifying 15 minutes in a rickety lift, the trio finally set foot onto the third, and highest level.

Hermione was mesmerised by the spectacular view and dragged Narcissa and Draco up close to the windows to admire it. Draco was terrified. He stood rooted to the spot behind his mother and Hermione and refused to even take a peek. Narcissa on the other hand faced her fears and bravely glanced through the window.

Draco kept his eyes to the floor and was automatically attracted by a glittering object hovering about an inch in the air.

'Strange!' thought Draco, scratching his head.

 

Harry had been sent up to his room in disgrace. Uncle Vernon, in all his purple-faced glory, roared at him until he was hoarse and had to restrain himself before he belted Harry with whatever was handy. (A redwood chair upholstered in Italian silk.)

Harry didn't seem to be at all bothered by the unjust punishment. He found the cloud's silver lining in the form of a 16-year-old girl waving at him from the window opposite his.

He waved back and opened his window eagerly.

'Hi!' shouted Arabella across the divide, 'I take it you're considered responsible for Dudley's little …'

She trailed off. She turned and watched a flapping bundle of snow white feathers advancing towards Harry.

'Harry!' yelled Arabella, 'Watch out!'

'It's okay,' said Harry, sticking his hand out, 'this is my owl Hedwig.'

Hedwig landed on Harry's outstretched hand, hooted softly and dropped something into Harry's outstretched hand. 'What's this?' Harry reached out with his other hand and grabbed the sparkling arcane object.

It pivoted in the palm of his hand. He stared at it until Arabella broke the silence.

'What is it?'

'Déjà vu,' muttered Harry, 'Déjà vu.'

 

Okay, Schnoogles to everyone who has reviewed the first chapter.

That is at this present time:

LadySanna, Tess, Lily Vance, Pampered Tigeress and MrsScrags.

Bubsy and Stuart Forever,

Draco and Hermione Forever,

Harry and Arabella Forever,

Purple_scorpion33 and 'That Person' Forever. (It changes)

Oh yeah and big thanks to Miss A. Malinowski and Miss J. Petschler. (Flattery will get you anywhere.) Thanks for getting me to write again, as this story would not have been made if not for you.