Chapter 120 - Harry Potter Fanfiction 40 - Bus Stop (2/2)
Hermione rolled her eyes. ”So what are you doing in this neck of London?”
He considered the question. ”Not very much. I'm mostly just standing, holding an umbrella, and talking to you.”
”That's not what I meant,” she said, punching him lightly on the arm.
He sighed. ”If you must know, I'm going to work.”
”Work?” she asked.
He nodded. ”This bus drops me off not too far from the Leaky Cauldron. From there I can walk.”
Hermione scrunched up her nose. ”But then, why are you here in the first place?” she asked.
He smirked. ”I take it you've never been down that alley way next to the shoe store?” She shook her head. ”The Manor is disillusioned to muggles between two knick-knack shops over there. It's amazing how they don't notice something that's half a kilometer wide.”
Hermione suċkėd in a breath. ”Your property is half a kilometer wide?”
”And fifteen deep,” he added.
”Fif—in the middle of muggle London?” she asked in astonishment.
He nodded. ”Granted, the Manor was built before that part of the city was industrialized,” he added.
”So tell me,” she asked, after a pause, ”why would you need to work if you're as extremely rich as you like to suggest?”
He smirked and lifted his pant leg to reveal his metal ring. ”P.O. makes me,” he explained. ”I have to have a job or else it's off to Azzy for me.”
”Oh,” she replied unsteadily.
”I know you're dying to know,” he said.
”Know what?”
”You want to know what I did,” he replied. ”You want to know why I have a Parole Officer.”
She shook her head. ”Knowing you, I think I can guess.”
”Do you know me? You probably think it's because of what happened sixth year, don't you?” he asked casually, switching his umbrella to his other hand.
”I would certainly think it had something to do with it,” she responded.
”I served a five year term for that,” he told her. ”But I got the P.O. for a different reason.”
”And what would that be?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
”Embezzlement,” he said.
”Embezzlement?” she asked, frowning.
”That's it,” he said. ”Nothing more, nothing less.”
”What sort of embezzlement?” she asked.
He smirked. ”Just a few minor changes to my dear old Dad's will,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. ”What, did he only give you ninety-eight percent of his money instead of the whole shebang?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes. ”He only gave me the Manor,” he said. ”I just arranged to give myself a bit of spending money as well.”
”You're broke, then?” she asked, disbelief evident in the way her eyebrows arched.
He laughed. ”No. I sold an antique vase for ten thousand galleons. I'm hardly 'broke.'”
She blinked at him, noticing that the clouds had finally decided to let some rain loose upon them. ”That would explain the expensive umbrella,” she remarked, unconsciously scooting closer to him to avoid the rain.
”So you really aren't with the Weasel, eh?” he asked.
She shook her head. ”We broke it off years ago.”
”How about Potter?”
She frowned. ”Ew, no.”
Malfoy laughed. ”Not your type?”
She shook her head. ”We're much too good of friends for that. I really couldn't imagine being anything more.”
He kicked his foot at a puddle. ”I was just thinking of him the other day. I came to this weird realization that his name rhymes with fairy water. I could have done something with that…”
”I think that's the bus,” Hermione commented, staring blearily down the street.
”No,” he said. ”That's the number fifty. It takes a left over there,” he said, pointing.
”You're just a fountain of useful information, aren't you?” she asked.
”Sort of the way you're a fountain of useless information?” he asked snidely.
”Hey!” she objected.
”What year did the Sumerian elves rise against their overlords by refusing to polish silver for a week?”
”1253,” she answered. ”And that's not useless. It's very interesting information that I can use to my advantage in my campaign for House Elf rights.”
”I cannot believe you knew that,” he said. ”How can you possibly know that?”
She shrugged. ”Some of us were paying attention to Professor Binns,” she explained.
”And I'm sure the old goat would be happy—if he's indeed still capable of emotion, or even taking notice of anything—to know that a student was actually paying attention to him. Believe you me, you had to be the only one. The only reason I passed my OWL's was because I had read the textbook.”
”You can read?” she asked, mocking disbelief.
He rolled his eyes at her. ”Now that,” he said, ”is our bus.” He pointed down the street to a jalopy omnibus coming to a halt before them.
”Oh, lucky number fifty-two, is it?” she asked, peering at the bus as its door opened. A queue of muggles formed in front of them, and they hurried to get in line.
”It hasn't exploded yet,” Malfoy said with a smirk.
”That's all anyone could ask for in a bus, I suppose,” she commented, stepping up and showing the driver her pass. Malfoy followed her to a seat near the rear and sat down beside her. ”You do realize there are empty seats elsewhere, don't you?”
He shrugged, tucking his umbrella under the seat. ”And what—sit with perfect strangers? Muggles, no less? I'll take my chances with you.”
”You're much too kind to me,” she said with a sniff.
He chuckled. ”Think nothing of it,” he said with a brandish of his hand. He sighed. ”So, going to tell me if you live alone or not?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. ”Why are you so obsessed? And why should I tell you, anyway? For all I know, you might want to…”
”Do something fiendish to you when you're all alone in your little flat?” he asked. ”I told you, I may be a criminal…”
”But you're not a petty criminal. I've got that,” she finished.
”At least tell me if you're married,” he compromised.
She lifted her eyes to the heavens. ”No,” she answered.
”Interesting,” he said, scratching his chin. ”Fiancé?”
She laughed. ”No.”
”Boyfriend?” he tried.
She raised her eyebrow at him. ”What do you think?”
He pretended to think a moment. ”Girlfriend?”
She punched him in the arm. ”No. You're awfully curious for someone who doesn't even like me,” she observed.
”And you're awfully keen to drive away the first man to take any sort of interest in you in what's probably been a very long time,” he pointed out.
She snorted. ”Interest? Is that what this is?”
He fixed a dashing smile onto his face. ”Just picture it Granger—you, me… an umbrella makes three?”
She stared at him for a moment. ”Have you been drinking?”
He stuck his tongue out. ”Obviously you have no sense of humor whatsoever.”
”Oh,” she said, slightly crestfallen. ”Ha ha.”
”Anyway, I'm certainly glad we aren't talking about gum, today. Your love life, if dull, is certainly more interesting than chewing gum,” he remarked.
”Thank you, I suppose,” she said.
”No problem,” he replied gallantly.
”And what about you?” she asked. ”Any romances in your life?”
He sighed. ”I'm afraid I've spent much too much time in Azzy to make many connections at all, romantic or otherwise. Although, there was that very nice looking dementor…” He winked.
She laughed. ”There's no fairness in making fun of my nonexistent love life if yours is the same way,” she pointed out.
”Fairness-shmairness, it's still fun.” He stretched his arms. ”Why must these seats be so cramped? There's hardly enough space for two.”
She nodded in agreement. ”We're almost to my stop,” she pointed out.
”In which case, Fräulein, I'll bid you auf Wiedersehen,” he said.
”You know,” she said, ”I think you might have gone a little mad around all of those dementors.”
”Perfectly possible,” he said, relaxing into his seat. ”See you around, Granger.”
The bus pulled to a stop, and she marched down the aisle, pausing momentarily to look at him before leaving. She could have sworn he'd sent her a wink.
A.N.: Now hold on, now. This isn't going to be a very long fic. Only a few chapters. I don't want it interfering with The Witness and the Wife. If you're interested in the song this is based on, it's called Bus Stop and is by The Hollies.