Disclaimer: If I owned these characters then I wouldn't have to upload this
story, now would I? I would have this published while sitting back in my
summer home in the French Riviera. Alas, they are not mine, but they belong
to J.K. Rowling. And so I must upload them and sit back in my broken
computer because I have no life. Basic plot is taken from the movie "Before
Sunrise."
Chapter One
It was a bad idea from the very beginning. She knew this, of course. However, the look on her mother's face was so earnest that she had to agree.
And now she was in a train with no one to talk to and nothing to do except stare at scenery that quickly passed by her.
You've seen one forest you've seen them all. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
She shouldn't have given into the woman when she was obviously daft. She did not need this and if she were going to visit Margaret (which was her intention from the start) she would have taken a plane-like most Muggles who didn't have enough time for a coffee break let alone venture across Europe to visit her cousin and her newborn baby.
Hermione shook her head. Of course she had time to visit her cousin. Margaret was almost like her sister-well, not really sister, but more like a cousin.
Obviously she was going insane.
She stood up and began to pace the entire compartment, which wasn't very large. She began ticking them off one by one. The luncheon with the Minister of Magic when she returned, the meeting with her inside source, the. the. the.
What was the other one?
Insane. Did she mention that she might be going insane?
Coffee! She needed coffee. She could imagine it now. A steaming cup of caffeine slowly invading her blood cells making her even more jittery-
Tea would be equally good, she decided.
The train rattled beneath her, swaying a little beneath her feet as she made her way to the food cart. Food cart? Was that even correct? Or was it food carriage? No. sounds even worse. Food cabin? Food compartment?
Her trail of thought ended abruptly the moment she reached her point of destination. What she first saw (or noticed, rather) were the sugar donuts. And the crème puffs. And the strawberry tarts.
And the tea of course.
Her stomach growled loudly making her blush and lower her head. Clearly she would have to get something more substantial than her daily diet of coffee in the morning, coffee in the evening and coffee in the afternoon.
She quickly made her selection and pulled out several bills muttering about how inconvenient Muggle money was in terms of denomination.
The cashier raised an eyebrow.
Hermione raised one back at her. "Is there a problem?"
"Er, no. None at all," the cashier replied hastily. "So that would be one small garden salad, one turkey sandwich, a pot of jasmine tea, which will be brought to you, two donuts, two strawberry tarts and two crème puffs. Would you like anything else?"
Hermione ignored the pointed look the cashier gave her. "Yes. Although, I think I might try a couple of your cherry tarts later." Hermione bit back a smile. "For dessert," she added before turning to find a place to sit.
Which turned out to be more difficult that she had initially thought as it was quite literally packed with people.
She had been walking up and down the aisle for some while, her arms straining from the weight of her load, when she found a vacant table. Well, a semi-vacant table as there was already someone sitting on one side, head made invisible by a newspaper.
She carefully slid her tray onto the table and cleared her throat.
And cleared her throat a little louder.
"Excuse me?" she said softly.
Finally the newspaper barrier descended. "Yes?"
It was like a game. One of those, who can stare at each the longest without blinking-or in this case, without screaming at the other in surprise and yelling hexes.
Hermione lost. She would have won if she hadn't went on for so long without breathing.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Hermione Granger."
She slid onto the bench and glared at the person opposite her. "Malfoy."
He grinned at her. Grinned. White pearly teeth that were just begging to be hexed. or knocked out. She wasn't averse to not using her wand, especially when the situation called for it.
Draco Malfoy. The prince of the Wizarding community. The man who had the entire world kissing his feet. The boy who had tormented her repeatedly in Hogwarts. The criminal she was bent on exposing.
"Really, Granger, if I knew that you were going to such lengths in order to spy on me," he told her, his grin never waning, "I would have made it easier for you. Perhaps leaving you my itinerary would be enough. Not to worry, though. The next time I plan to travel, I'll have my secretary contact you."
"And lead me straight into a den of Death Eaters?" she spat back at him, each word heavily laced with venom.
Draco folded his newspaper carefully and settled it on the seat beside him before looking back at Hermione. "No," he replied calmly. "To enjoy a fun- filled weekend with me at Copenhagen. We can look at the statue of the Little Mermaid and think, 'Oh woe to these Muggles who think that this is wonderful. A pity that don't know what hidden beneath.'"
"A den of Death Eaters?"
Hermione watched a Draco threw his head back in shouts of laughter, his shoulders shaking with the force of each sound.
"You never let up, do you Granger?" There was no trace of malice in his voice. Amusement, perhaps, which was just as annoying if not more so. "You're so convinced that I'm out to get you."
She smirked at this pronouncement. "And you're not?"
"My, my, my. Aren't we feeling self-centered today?"
Hermione ignored him and turned to her food instead. She opened the plastic container that held the precious green of her salad. She mixed in the dressing. She speared some with her fork. She held it up to mouth. She dropped her fork.
"What are you doing here?!" she sputtered, an incredulous look in her eyes. "You're in a Muggle. conveyance with. Muggles!"
"And?"
"You're Draco Malfoy."
"I am indeed. I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Twenty- two years old. Handsome as hell. Adored by many. Stalked by many. Namely you." His voice trailed off. He picked a cherry tomato from Hermione's salad and popped it into his mouth. "Admit it, you find this combination irresistible."
"You didn't answer my question. And you stole my tomato."
Draco chuckled. "Well, it could have been worse."
Hermione looked doubtful. "How?"
"I could have stolen one of your donuts."
Chapter One
It was a bad idea from the very beginning. She knew this, of course. However, the look on her mother's face was so earnest that she had to agree.
And now she was in a train with no one to talk to and nothing to do except stare at scenery that quickly passed by her.
You've seen one forest you've seen them all. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
She shouldn't have given into the woman when she was obviously daft. She did not need this and if she were going to visit Margaret (which was her intention from the start) she would have taken a plane-like most Muggles who didn't have enough time for a coffee break let alone venture across Europe to visit her cousin and her newborn baby.
Hermione shook her head. Of course she had time to visit her cousin. Margaret was almost like her sister-well, not really sister, but more like a cousin.
Obviously she was going insane.
She stood up and began to pace the entire compartment, which wasn't very large. She began ticking them off one by one. The luncheon with the Minister of Magic when she returned, the meeting with her inside source, the. the. the.
What was the other one?
Insane. Did she mention that she might be going insane?
Coffee! She needed coffee. She could imagine it now. A steaming cup of caffeine slowly invading her blood cells making her even more jittery-
Tea would be equally good, she decided.
The train rattled beneath her, swaying a little beneath her feet as she made her way to the food cart. Food cart? Was that even correct? Or was it food carriage? No. sounds even worse. Food cabin? Food compartment?
Her trail of thought ended abruptly the moment she reached her point of destination. What she first saw (or noticed, rather) were the sugar donuts. And the crème puffs. And the strawberry tarts.
And the tea of course.
Her stomach growled loudly making her blush and lower her head. Clearly she would have to get something more substantial than her daily diet of coffee in the morning, coffee in the evening and coffee in the afternoon.
She quickly made her selection and pulled out several bills muttering about how inconvenient Muggle money was in terms of denomination.
The cashier raised an eyebrow.
Hermione raised one back at her. "Is there a problem?"
"Er, no. None at all," the cashier replied hastily. "So that would be one small garden salad, one turkey sandwich, a pot of jasmine tea, which will be brought to you, two donuts, two strawberry tarts and two crème puffs. Would you like anything else?"
Hermione ignored the pointed look the cashier gave her. "Yes. Although, I think I might try a couple of your cherry tarts later." Hermione bit back a smile. "For dessert," she added before turning to find a place to sit.
Which turned out to be more difficult that she had initially thought as it was quite literally packed with people.
She had been walking up and down the aisle for some while, her arms straining from the weight of her load, when she found a vacant table. Well, a semi-vacant table as there was already someone sitting on one side, head made invisible by a newspaper.
She carefully slid her tray onto the table and cleared her throat.
And cleared her throat a little louder.
"Excuse me?" she said softly.
Finally the newspaper barrier descended. "Yes?"
It was like a game. One of those, who can stare at each the longest without blinking-or in this case, without screaming at the other in surprise and yelling hexes.
Hermione lost. She would have won if she hadn't went on for so long without breathing.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Hermione Granger."
She slid onto the bench and glared at the person opposite her. "Malfoy."
He grinned at her. Grinned. White pearly teeth that were just begging to be hexed. or knocked out. She wasn't averse to not using her wand, especially when the situation called for it.
Draco Malfoy. The prince of the Wizarding community. The man who had the entire world kissing his feet. The boy who had tormented her repeatedly in Hogwarts. The criminal she was bent on exposing.
"Really, Granger, if I knew that you were going to such lengths in order to spy on me," he told her, his grin never waning, "I would have made it easier for you. Perhaps leaving you my itinerary would be enough. Not to worry, though. The next time I plan to travel, I'll have my secretary contact you."
"And lead me straight into a den of Death Eaters?" she spat back at him, each word heavily laced with venom.
Draco folded his newspaper carefully and settled it on the seat beside him before looking back at Hermione. "No," he replied calmly. "To enjoy a fun- filled weekend with me at Copenhagen. We can look at the statue of the Little Mermaid and think, 'Oh woe to these Muggles who think that this is wonderful. A pity that don't know what hidden beneath.'"
"A den of Death Eaters?"
Hermione watched a Draco threw his head back in shouts of laughter, his shoulders shaking with the force of each sound.
"You never let up, do you Granger?" There was no trace of malice in his voice. Amusement, perhaps, which was just as annoying if not more so. "You're so convinced that I'm out to get you."
She smirked at this pronouncement. "And you're not?"
"My, my, my. Aren't we feeling self-centered today?"
Hermione ignored him and turned to her food instead. She opened the plastic container that held the precious green of her salad. She mixed in the dressing. She speared some with her fork. She held it up to mouth. She dropped her fork.
"What are you doing here?!" she sputtered, an incredulous look in her eyes. "You're in a Muggle. conveyance with. Muggles!"
"And?"
"You're Draco Malfoy."
"I am indeed. I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Twenty- two years old. Handsome as hell. Adored by many. Stalked by many. Namely you." His voice trailed off. He picked a cherry tomato from Hermione's salad and popped it into his mouth. "Admit it, you find this combination irresistible."
"You didn't answer my question. And you stole my tomato."
Draco chuckled. "Well, it could have been worse."
Hermione looked doubtful. "How?"
"I could have stolen one of your donuts."