Irredeemable (Harry Potter fanfiction)

2 - Is this a date?

The Christmas holidays were rapidly approaching, and Draco was counting the days. He was going home to spend it with his mother and make sure she was coping satisfactorily. He was exhausted from studying and constantly watching his back, although his shield charm was holding and there had been no other incidents of attack.

There had been no further contact with Granger either, although he had looked up a couple of times in the library to find her looking at him, only to glance away quickly. It was obvious now that neither one of them were going to discuss the events of a few weeks previously, and Draco was more than happy to put it behind him.

One reason he was feeling so burnt out was that on top of his school work he had started to research muggle life. He was now reasonably confident about how to use their money, although not what everyday items would cost, and thought that he understood how the London underground system worked. He was now trying to find out about cultural taboos, knowing he needed to be able to pass for a muggle now he lived surrounded by them, but all the information he found was confusing or conflicting. It would be easier if he had some muggle born friends, but he could imagine the reaction he would get if he started trying to chat to any of them. It really was quite ironic, those he had formerly disdained as beneath him wouldn't even give him the time of day now!

With a sigh, he shut the muggle studies book he had been reading. He was just going to have to wing it, he concluded. At least he would be able to get back to his new home when he got off the Hogwarts express next week.

It was the last weekend before the end of term, and the final Hogsmeade trip was on the Saturday. Draco hadn't bothered to go on any of the previous trips, but wanted to go this time to get his mother a Christmas present.

He joined the queue to exit the grounds along with a large proportion of the upper half of the student body. He saw pansy hanging off the arm of Harper, a member of the Slytherin quiddich team a year or so below them. He watched them for a minute or so trying to decide if he was jealous or not. Not, he concluded. Yes, he definitely missed the physical release that Pansy had provided, but aside from that he didn't really care for her. She was rather vapid, and had a nasty sense of humour, which of course he used to share. Now he wasn't sure if he had a sense of humour at all.

Draco pulled the hood of his cloak up against the icy biting wind, relishing the anonymity it afforded. He had no idea what to get his mother, particularly with the limited funds he had. Maybe something a little satiric? A cookbook? He walked down the main street towards Scrivenshafts; they usually kept a few cookbooks in stock. He looked in the window of Honeydukes as he passed, if he had any money left after this he would buy some chocolate too!

Walking around the wizarding village, so festively decorated, with carol singers just audible from where they stood near the Three Broomsticks, lifted Draco's spirits. He was halfway through the school year, he had survived this long being ignored and belittled by the other students, and he was doing well with his studies. 'Could be worse' he told himself, feeling almost cheerful for once.

The next few days passed quickly, and Draco was packing to go home before he knew it. He had time to have a decent breakfast before the carriages arrived, and ate with gusto knowing that there were no house elves at home to produce such a spread. He was pleased to find that everyone was too occupied with their own packing and wishing their friends a merry Christmas to pay him any attention.

He found himself an empty compartment on the train, but to his annoyance, a couple of third year girls came in after him. He got out his Arithmancy book, hoping this would make the next few hours go a little quicker. The two girls were talking quietly, and after about half an hour seemed to be having a silent argument about something.

"Umm…Hello!" said one, addressing him.

Surprised, he looked up from his text. What did she want?                                                         

"You're Draco Malfoy aren't you?" she said brightly, her friend simpering behind her.

"Yes..." he replied warily. Where were they going with this?

"I'm Farah Prendergast, and this is Tabitha Caplin" She gestured to her friend. "We have seen you around school."

"Right. OK." He said non-plussed.

"So if next term you wanted to hang around with us…" she said blushing, "then that would be ok."

It was then he realised what was going on; He was being hit on. Had they not heard of his reputation?

"Do you not know that I was a death eater?" he asked, perplexed.

"Of course. Everyone does."

And then he got it. They were interested because he had been a death eater. To these little girls it was probably a romantic fantasy, the ultimate bad boy. They knew nothing, they had no idea! He was suddenly filled with rage. Little idiots!

He fixed them with a savage glare, and watched them visibly recoil. "People stay away from me for a reason!" he hissed.

The girls looked dismayed; the conversation was obviously not going as planned.

"Come on Tabby, let's go," said the first girl, tugging the other girls sleeve. They left the compartment swiftly, and he could hear them start to argue again as soon as the door had slid shut.

Draco shook his head and tried to get back into his book. He was unsure why he had just been so angry at the girls, after all, they were only 14 at most; They wouldn't understand the fear and horror that the past two years had wrought. He supposed they had reminded him of himself a little at that age; thinking the dark arts were something mysterious and alluring, when the reality was anything but.

His good mood lost, he tossed down his book and proceeded to brood for the next couple of hours. Not stirring himself until they had nearly reached London, he changed into his muggle clothes and collected all his stuff. He tucked his wand into his jacket, it was habit to never go anywhere without it now.

He was one of the first people onto the platform, looking around to see if his mother had decided to meet him. Despite what he had previously hoped, he felt a pang of disappointment that his mother hadn't come. Looking around at all the other parents waiting eagerly made him feel more ostracised than ever; there were the Weasley's, and Grangers muggle parents. Pansy's mother was a little way down the platform, but she didn't acknowledge Draco. A contrast to the way she had reacted when they had been introduced previously, when she had really laid it on thick saying how lovely it was to meet him, and she was so pleased that Pansy had met such a nice young man.

Making his way to the barrier, he waited for the guard to let him out, then quickly made his way to the station exit. He was nearly at the doors, when he heard his name;

"Draco!"

He turned and saw his mother hurrying towards him.

"Draco!" she called again, then pulled him into a hug.

Draco stared at her dumbfounded; she was dressed as a muggle. In jeans and a smart black coat, she looked perfectly at home here with the crowds of other people milling about. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a neat chignon, and besides being a little slimmer, she looked well.

"Mother, you came!" He exclaimed, returning her hug.

"Yes. Sorry I didn't meet you on the platform, but I…" she looked slightly chagrined, and Draco immediately cut her off.

"No, don't worry about it. How did you get here?" He asked, hoping she hadn't apparated. There had been new restrictions imposed on apparition since the fall of Voldemort, it was only allowed from and to designated points around the country; anyone who apparated outside one of these points would be investigated by the ministry of magic. Although there were many who ignored this, saying that it was unreasonable and unfair, the last thing the Malfoys needed was more scandal!

"I took a muggle taxi." She replied. "You just tell them where you want to go and they take you!"

She seemed so pleased with herself that he didn't have the heart to say that it was an incredibly expensive way to travel around London.

"We had better take the underground back," said Draco, and taking her arm, led her out into the pale winter sunshine.

Their arrival back at the house,' my new home' Draco corrected himself, was rather anti-climactic. It was still small and rather dingy, although his mother has decorated it a little since his last visit. The problem was that the style she liked was best suited to a large Victorian manor house, all dark wood and large furniture, which really did nothing to improve the atmosphere of the tiny mid-terrace.

"I had better go and unpack," he told his mother, finding it difficult to maintain the stream of small talk any longer. He heaved his heavy trunk up the narrow stairs to his bedroom, kicking open the door and entering the small single room that was his personal space. It was pretty bleak in here too, but he had adorned the walls in the silver and green of Slytherin House so if felt a little more homely.

"Dinner will be in a couple of hours," called his mother from downstairs.

"Thanks," He called back.

Dinner was a stilted affair. Draco ate the roast beef that his mother had conjured, but it was nowhere near as good as the school food. Maybe his Christmas gift would be useful after all…

"How are you getting on in the muggle world?" he asked, trying to gauge how she had been coping.

"Alright," she said with a frown. "I don't really understand how they manage without magic, or what they do all day!"

"I guess that they spend their days making up for not having magic," he replied, although in all honesty he wondered the same thing.

"I thought I would go out tomorrow, try and get used to being around muggles. Head in to town. Do you want to come?" He wasn't being strictly honest with his motives for going out, but he really couldn't stand the idea of being stuck in that house all day.

"No, I don't think I will." She replied, looking slightly hurt that he wouldn't be spending the day at home with her.

They spent another hour or so attempting to talk, both trying to convince the other that they had been perfectly fine over the past three months, but all they really conveyed was how miserable they had been.

"Well, I'm rather tired," said Draco, having run out of innocuous conversation.

"Ok, goodnight Darling" his mother kissed his cheek and he went up to bed, feeling resigned to the fact that this was his life now. Well, for a while at least.

Next morning dawned bright and cold, Draco's breath misting in the frigid air as he walked briskly to the tube station. He was dressed in his muggle best; dark jeans, a white shirt under a dark green jumper and a black blazer, and he felt he was looking suitably non-magical. He bought himself an all-day ticket from the machine at the station, and feeling rather gratified, went down to board the train into central London.

He had been on the train for about quarter of an hour, counting stops, when someone at the other end of the carriage caught his eye. A girl with a head full of chestnut ringlets had just gotten on, and although she had her back to Draco, she looked familiar. The train lurched and began to move again, and although Draco didn't take his eyes off her, he still couldn't be sure if it was her. It wasn't until the next stop, as she prepared to alight, that he saw her face. Granger!

The train doors opened, and before he really thought about what he was doing, he had stepped out onto the platform and was weaving his way through the crowds behind her. She blended perfectly with the muggles around her; she was wearing skinny jeans with brown heeled boots that showed off the curve of her backside, with a brown bomber jacket zipped up to her throat. She had one of those muggle music players in her ears, and seemed not to notice the appraisals she was getting from the muggle men as she passed.

He followed her out of the station entrance and down the pavement outside, careful to maintain enough distance so she wouldn't notice him. He still hadn't stopped to think what he was doing, or why he felt the need to see where she was going, just that he was determined not to lose sight of her. He had been following her for a few minutes, when he started to feel annoyed: was she not paying attention to her surroundings? There were predatory muggles around, he knew this much by seeing some of the muggle newspapers, but she hadn't noticed she was being followed!

She turned down an alley between two buildings, and he ducked in behind her.

"Why are you following me Malfoy?" She demanded, turning to face him.

"I, uh…" He trailed off sheepishly; Of course, she had known he was there. He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment, why was he following her?

She studied him with her arms folded, waiting for an answer. The silence stretched, and she seemed to take pity on him. "I'm going to get a coffee, do you want to come?"

That was unexpected. "Yes, that would be good" He found himself saying, and fell into step beside her.

"So what are you doing here?" she asked after a moment, stepping back out onto the pavement and continuing towards their destination.

"I live here." Said Draco, "Well, not here," he clarified, "but we live in muggle London now."

Hermione looked surprised. "Oh, that must be… different for you."

"Just a bit." He answered with a wry smile.

"So, what are you doing today?" He asked her, trying to keep the conversation going. "I would have thought you would be at the Weasley's for Christmas." Careful to keep the sneer off his face.

"I'm in town just finishing my Christmas shopping. And I will be going to the Weasley's for New Year, but I wanted to spend Christmas with mum and dad."

He nodded, not really sure how to respond. He was saved from trying to think of something suitable to say by Hermione gesturing at a café.

"In here," she said, pushing open the door. Draco followed her to the counter. "Could I get a Cinnamon spiced latte with whipped cream?" she asked the waitress, then turned to Draco expectantly. He had no idea what she had just ordered, but said "I'll have the same."

"Sure, I'll bring them over," said the woman, and he followed Hermione to a table.

Hermione shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on her chair. "So," she began without looking at him, "why are you really here?"

He tried to think of a plausible lie, but gave up. "I just couldn't stand being in that house all day. I have nothing to say to my mother, and she nothing to me, it all so forced! How do muggles cope!?" It all burst from him in a rush, and he wished he could take it back at once.

She surveyed him steadily, brown eyes searching his. "Are you genuinely asking?" she said finally.

"Yes. No. I don't know." He replied, dropping his head and heaving a sigh. "I just don't know how to make it better."

"Well, I don't know how to help with your mum, but if you want to know about muggles then you should think about what they like. Listen to muggle music, watch t.v., read the paper."

Ok, he could read the paper, but "How do I listen to muggle music, and what is T.V.?"

"Is everything magic in your house?" she asked, with a soft smile.

"Yes" he replied. Of course it was!

"Then it won't be that easy! If you do magic in close proximity to something passing electricity through a microchip then it will burn it out, and pretty much all electrical gadgets have microchips in now."

"So what do you do at home?" He asked, perplexed.

"I don't use magic." She responded.

"Not at all?!" he cried aghast.

"I think you have forgotten that I was brought up as a muggle. My parents are muggles. That's something I never thought I would have to remind you of that Malfoy" she chuckled.

"Nor did I Granger, nor did I." he shook his head, with a cynical chuckle.

Their drinks arrived, and he eyed it warily, he still had no idea what it was. Hermione took a sip of hers, and closed her eyes in appreciation, so Draco tentatively had a slurp of his. It was actually quite nice, he concluded, sweet and bitter at the same time.

"Listen," she began. "If you want to see how muggles live, then you can come to mine for dinner on Christmas Eve. My parents are going to their work's Christmas party, so I would be on my own anyway."

"Really?" He asked; why was she being so nice to him? What did she have to gain from it?

"Look, if you don't want to its fine." She snapped. "I was only trying to be nice…"

"No," he said quickly, "that would be nice. I want to come."

"Ok then," she said, telling him directions to her house. "Be there for 7."

The rest of the time in the café seemed a little awkward, as if they were both surprised at the turn events had taken. They finished their drinks, paid the bill, and stood up to leave.

"Well, I had better get on with my shopping," said Hermione, walking over to the door. "But I will see you Tuesday night?" she confirmed.

"Yes," Draco replied, "seven o clock." This whole conversation felt slightly surreal. He was going to Hermione "mudblood" Grangers house for tea, even though for all intents and purposes they despised each other.

They had gotten to the pavement, and he turned to head back to the station,

"Malfoy," He turned back. "Here!" Hermione tossed him her MP3 player. "It's set to shuffle; you just need to turn it on." He looked at the small device in his hand. "Just remember to turn it off before you do any magic, I want it back on Tuesday!"

With this she turned and walked briskly away, leaving him standing watching her retreating back.

"Did you have a good day?" Asked Narcissa when they sat down to dinner that evening. Draco had no idea what she had been doing all day, but suspected that she hadn't left the house.

"Yes," he answered. "It was alright. " He decided to broach the subject of his intended absence on Christmas Eve. "In fact, I met a friend from school."

"Oh, that's nice." His mother commented, "Anyone I know?"

"No, I don't think so. Anyway, they invited me out on Christmas eve."

His mother's face fell.

"I don't have to go," continued Draco. "I can always tell her…"

"Her?" his mother interjected, suddenly perking up. "No, Draco, you should go! I'm glad you have a date!"

"It's not a date." He quickly corrected her. "She just invited me round for dinner."

"Alright darling." Narcissa ceded, the dubious smile showing she didn't believe a word.

The next couple of days passed fairly quietly, Draco listening to the muggle music Hermione had lent him and finding the variety and content a surprise. Some of it he hated, but he discovered he liked a lot of it, particularly the more melancholy and stormy sounding songs; muggles obviously did have the same sort of feelings and issues as wizards.

He persuaded his mother to go out to the shop on the corner with him, and found the woman in there to be friendly and pleasant.

They also met their neighbour, an old bachelor called John, who seemed to take a bit of a shine to Narcissa. Especially when he found out she was a widow, and that Draco was away for most of the year at school. Draco was pleased to see that Narcissa was gracious and hoped she would cultivate a cordial relationship with the local muggles; maybe she wouldn't be so lonely whilst he was away.

It got to Tuesday afternoon, and Draco found himself feeling restless, and a little nervous. Which is ridiculous, he told himself. He showered and shaved, then wondered what to wear; not that he had a huge amount of choice. He decided on dark jeans, a black shirt and the same blazer from before. He still had a good hour or so before he needed to leave, but found he couldn't settle. He went down to the lounge to wait with his mother.

"You look lovely darling." She reached over and smoothed his hair. "Your date will be very impressed."

"It's not a date mother!" he insisted, but he couldn't quite silence the little voice in his head that asked 'then why does it feel like a date?!'

"Have a nice time, and don't worry about coming home late," his mother gushed.

He was about to protest when she cut him off;

"I know you will say it's not a date, but you have just spent over an hour in the bathroom getting ready for this non-date, so it is obviously something important to you!"

Since when had his mother been so perceptive? Draco had a feeling that it probably started after she had been away from the influence of his father. Not wanting to admit that she was right, he tucked his wand and Hermione's MP3 player into his jacket and went to the front door.

"See you later!" He called, closing the door behind him before she could say anything further. Outside, he took a deep lungful of the crisp cold air. Why on earth was he suddenly feeling nervous?