Hermione's parents guilt her into auditioning for a reality television dating show. To her surprise, she's cast as a lead. As her only friend that can pass in the muggle world, Harry makes a number of appearances on the show. Of course, viewers being what they are, a sizable portion start rooting for the two of them to get together rather than Hermione and the male lead.
Summary: Draco has your heart and you have his, a muggle and a wizard, but what happens when you take him home... to America, to your very muggle parents, and your very muggle small town?
A/n: As promised here is some ridiculous fluff and shenanigans between these two dorks. Also, this gets very southern very quickly, so as a disclaimer: none of this is meant to offend anyone at all, it’s just simple writing fun. I know a lot of you come to Tumblr to destress from the news, so this is free from current events and can even be seen written around circa 2010 if you want. I love you all and let me know what you think because I love being validated your comments and reblogs
“Um, do you maybe want to come with me back home?” The question was timid as it left my lips.
“To America?” He raised an eyebrow looking up from his workstation where he was currently brewing Amorentia—not that he used it, but it brought comfort to me and worked surpassingly well in a diffuser.
“To put it broadly, yes.” I smiled, knowing he had no idea how expansive America really was. “I’m off for the summer and my parents have been nagging me nonstop to meet you, and well it’s home,” Shrugging I hopped up on his desk and he eyed me warily, moving some things out of my way.
“How long?”
“Well I suppose you could apparate back any time you like, but...”
“How long?” He pressed again.
“A week?” I was almost afraid of his reaction.
Not that I was afraid of him, but I knew him well. He liked order. He like routine. Everything had a place and he preferred it if it stayed in that place. Which included him, in London.
“I understand if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot. Muggle parents, Muggle girlfriend, America...” I trailed off looking down. “Just thought I’d offer.”
“Love,” he tilted my chin up. “If you want me to go with you to meet your parents, I suppose I can manage a week,” he smiled.
Happiness fluttered in my chest as I threw my arms around him.
“Careful dear,” he scolded, easily pulling me into his arms, carrying me. “This stuff takes forever to wear off and I’d rather not have you drugged for the next few hours.”
“Could be fun,” I giggled, nuzzling into his neck.
“You say that now,” he chided, a smile evident on his face.
_____________________________
“Now, they don’t know that you’re a wiz,” You reminded him. “And I’d rather not have to obliviate my parents, so if you could— “
“You act like I’m a teenager Y/n, I’m not stupid,” Draco rolled his eyes.
You raised an eyebrow at him. A challenge.
“And, a very fair warning: I am very...posh compared to my parents,”
Draco laughed; the word so unfamiliar to your lips and your American accent. Nor could he imagine in any way that someone would regard you as posh. He loved you, of course, but a lady was something you were not—not that he didn’t treat you like one, but that was beside the point.
But nothing you said could ever prepare him for what waited at your doorstep. Not the hours on a flight. Not the ride back in another muggle car. Not the songs on the radio. Not the conversations he had with Hermione and Harry unbeknownst to you.
“Pumpkin!” An older man in a buttoned-up flannel pulled you into his arms. His drawl was thick, making yours sound almost normal. “You are too pale darlin’ ain’t enough sun over there in England,” he chided, a huge smile on his face.
“Oh nonsense,” your mother replied, her drawl having more of a twang. “She’s just fine. Our little Georgia peach,” You face went a little pink as you blushed.
“Momma, Daddy, this is Draco,” he heard more of a drawl slip into your words and Merlin was he in trouble.
“The Brit,” your father scrutinized him for a moment before the smile returned. “Pleasure to meet you son,” he held out his hand.
“The pleasure is mine, I assure you,” Draco almost purred, shaking your father’s hand.
“Oh Lord, hear that accent,” your mother fawned. “No wonder you fell for him, Y/n,”
“Mom,” you whined, turning a shade of red.
“Well come in you two, you must be exhausted from the flight.”
Draco should have taken your warnings more seriously. Maybe you should have eased him into more. Because a very Muggle farmhouse in the middle of the country with your very American parents was something he was not prepared for.
The floorboards creaked under his socks—shoes left by the front door—as pictures hung on the wall, a lot of them of you in various childhood phases: fishing, in trees, driving your beloved Jeep, posing next to a dead stag—that one made Draco snort, if only Harry knew. There were also tiny little ‘t’s all over the wall that Draco just didn’t understand the meaning of. Were they to ward something off? Was it a collection? Did they stand for some name he wasn’t aware of?
“Y/n, you go on with your mom and fix up dinner,” Your father nodded you two off to the kitchen.
“Dad,” You warned, a familiar look in your eyes.
“You worry too much.” Your dad shook his head. “Now, go on,”
You paused a moment, your stubborn streak flaring before you disappeared into the house, leaving Draco alone with your father, feeling quite anxious.
“Come on in, boy, sit on down and tell me about yourself,” Your father beckoned him to sit on a well-worn leather sofa, a knitted afghan thrown over the back.
Draco knew how to keep light conversation—a perk of being a Malfoy—but this? This he had no idea how to do. Your father seemed to pick up on that as he chuckled.
“So, you like my daughter, do you now?” He asked, his eyes holding the same shade as yours.
“Yes sir,” Draco nodded. “Very much,”
“Yeah, we think she's something else,” Your father shook his head, chuckling. “Her daddy's girl... mama's world.” His face became hardened, serious, “She deserves respect and that's what she'll get ain't it, son?”
“Y-yes, of course,” Draco stammered. “Always.”
The smile came back to your father’s face and Draco felt like he just passed some sort of test.
“Well, y'all, run along and have some fun while you’re here. Just keep her safe. She’s got a knack for trouble,”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Draco chuckled.
“Dinner!” Two voices called from somewhere else in the house.
“Comin’ darlin’,” Your father called back, standing. “Shall we?” He gestured for Draco to go first.
........................................
“Was that so bad?” You asked later that night as you got ready for bed. It was different, seeing you flit around the room with memorized paths and actions.
“One of the most bizarre things I have ever experienced,” he confessed. “But I have to admit, your mother is a brilliant cook,”
You laughed.
“Oh, tell her that tomorrow, she will love you to pieces,”
Your drawl was coming in thicker the longer you lingered home and Draco began to understand the fascination with his accent, because your drawl did something else to him. The small room you were in was yours. A true work of art that was merely shadowed by your room in London. The soft blue tone room was calming as fairy lights were strung and antique furniture filled the room. Dried flowers and various paintings and posters filled the room matching the quilt spread underneath him.
You came over to his sitting position on the bed, nestling between his legs. His hands slipped up the backs of your thighs and you swatted him.
“Behave,” you hissed. “You have no idea how long it took me to convince Daddy to let us stay in a room together. I’d like to not lose that battle on the first night.”
“You has to ask your dad for permission to sleep with your boyfriend, in your room, as an adult?” He raised an eyebrow. “And I thought my parents were strict.”
“Oh, you don’t know the meaning of the word, pretty boy,” you smiled and draped your arms around his neck.
“I think I quite like this side of you,” Draco grinned.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,”
“For the love of my sanity please use proper English,” Draco dismayed to your amusement.
“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” You dropped your drawl easily.
“You know what? Never mind,” Draco grinned, causing you to laugh harmoniously.
Never once had Draco ever seen you be a morning person, except now. The sun filtered in through the flowing curtains and your eyes fluttered open, landing on his.
“Mornin’,” You greeted.
“Good morning,”
“You ready?” There was a mischievous look in your eyes.
“For?”
“Well, I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet my friends, so I thought today we could go fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“Well, it’s not deer season so... we can’t exactly hunt. But it is fishing season.”
“There are seasons for you to kill wildlife?” He asked, watching you get ready.
“Yeah?” You paused, looking over at him. “Helps keep the animals from being over hunted while still keeping up the sport and population down. Daddy and I do it more for the population, not the sport,” Your smile was soft. “And venison is to die for when momma cooks,”
After a breakfast that Draco would be craving for the rest of his life, you loaded up the Chevy pick-up truck (you had informed him) with bait and poles and against his better judgement, he got in.
_____________________________
“I’m gonna seriously have to thank Hermione for takin’ you shoppin’ beforehand,” You grinned, eyeing Draco in a short-sleeved Henley and khaki shorts. “Knowin’ you, you only own suits and dress pants.”
“I own t-shirts,” Draco refuted, clinging to the door handle for dear life as I meandered the backroads towards the lake.
I rolled my eyes and turned onto the trail that would take us to the docks.
“This isn’t even a road!” Draco dismayed. “It’s barely dirt!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what four-wheel drive is for,” I grinned. “And honey, I fear the day someone takes you muddin’.”
“Mudding?” He asked skeptically.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I smiled, chuckling darkly, imagining the pristine Draco Malfoy anywhere near a four wheeler or ATV.
Hopping into the boat, Draco eyed me, hesitant on the dock.
“You can drive this too?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“It’s barely anything to drive,” I rolled my eyes, throwing my hair up. “Now come on, city boy. A little country ain’t gonna kill you,”
“No,” Draco agreed, settling in the boat beside me. “But a country girl just might,” The purr of his voice had me blushing and fumbling to kill the engine and grab a fishing pole.
Draco absolutely refused to touch the live crawfish. His face scrunched up in disgust as he watched me cast my line in.
“Oh, like it’s any different than you and your potion’s ingredients,” I pointed out.
“That’s different,” He pouted.
Smiling at his theatrics, the day consisted of Draco dismaying at just about everything. Including but not limited to: sunscreen, mosquitoes, not being able to hold my reeling hand, the heat, the sun, Oakley sunglasses—of which he looked absolutely stunning in and it wasn’t fair—baseball caps, live bass, me handling said bass, me handling a knife, the live crawfish again, the heat... again.
“Oh my God, Draco,” I huffed, not nearly as annoyed as I sounded.
“I’m sorry,” He drawled. “But this is absolutely absurd,”
I might have shoved him into the lake.
When he resurfaced, utter shock was on his face, as well as anger as he scolded my name.
“Yes?” I answered innocently. “Not so hot anymore is it?” I bated my eyelashes.
“You little—”
“Oh, and watch out for gators,” I grinned mischievously as his eyes went wide with fear. “Kidding!” I laughed, slipping off my crocs. “Probably,”
He was hanging onto the side of the small boat when I leapt off the side and into the icy water.
“What in the world are you doing?” Draco swam over to me.
“Swimming? Since someone thinks that fishing is absurd,” I mocked his accent.
“I don’t sound like that,” He grumbled.
“Yes, you do,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Stop being so uptight, Dray. Whatever you’re holding onto... reputation or whatever voice that’s in your head...” His face fell.
I knew that he had been raised to hate everything around him. The innocence and simplicity of it. Sure, it had taken some time and I had made a home in his heart, those prejudices fading, but he still fought hard sometimes. And maybe I wish he didn’t. And maybe I was selfish to think that.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. “I just... Your world is so incredible, Draco. Filled with things that are beyond my wildest dreams, and maybe I wanted to show you into mine,”
His arms snaked around my waist as he held me close, resting his forehead to mine.
“I’m sorry too,” He murmured softly. “Of course, I want to be a part of your world as well, but— ”
“Maybe fishing was a bit over ambitious?” I mused.
“Maybe slightly,” He chuckled, pressing his lips to mine sweetly.
“At least we have dinner tonight,”
“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not,”
I wasn’t.
__________________________________
The next day wasn’t as ambitious as fishing with you, but it was still quite new to him. Dressed in a sundress, you took his hand and lead him down the main street of your small town, the small shops reminding him of a fairytale. He was surprised at how many people recognized you and said hello. A kindness that he wasn’t accustomed to in the Wizarding world. Especially when the café owner had a long conversation with you and then said that your lunch was ‘on the house.’
“Not too bad?” You asked softly, after finishing lunch.
“Not bad at all,” He smiled.
After bringing in the groceries from a quaint muggle shop, into your warm little yellow kitchen, you took Draco’s hand and led him into the backyard. The sun was setting just beyond the horizon, painting the sky in crimson colors.
“Mr. Fancypants alright with climbing a few trees?” There was a smirk on your face.
“What are we? Five?” Draco chuckled, following you into the tree line.
“Well, I guess that is when daddy and I built this,” You gestured to a certain tree, where an emasculate treehouse resided.
Despite the wooden construction’s age, it still held well. Draco was half expecting it to be bigger on the inside, a commonality in the Wizarding World, but no, what he saw on the outside was what was reflected on the inside. This treehouse held no secrets. Draco smiled as he watched you climb the tree with no shoes on—a commonality he had noticed. You went barefoot whenever you could.
You helped him up and his eyes darted around, taking in the little house with it’s rope banisters, many windows and various trinkets and knickknacks that Draco had no hope in naming or identifying. When his eyes found you again, there was a blanket folded into your arms.
“When I was little, I used to come out here and stargaze... I don’t know how many times Daddy would have to come up here and carry me home ‘cause I fell asleep,” A smile touched your lips.
Draco looked up to the wooden roof and raised an eyebrow skeptically. You caught his question and nodded to a rope to his left. His fingers grasped the course fibers and tugged it experimentally. A mechanism went off and the roof parted at the gable, letting him see the first stars that had come out to play.
There was something different about looking up at these stars with you. He had spent years studying them in class and couldn’t remember half of what he had learned, but with you, they held a different meaning. You knew all of the stories it seemed. The ones that he learned as a child and some he didn’t. It was jarring, hearing the familiar stories fall from your lips. After all this time, maybe your muggle world wasn’t so far off from his magical one.
True to your word, you did end up sleeping softly in his arms as he looked up at the stars, then down at your peaceful face. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to spend the night outside—and neither would he for that matter—he carefully scooped you into his arms, and instead of risking dropping you, he simply apparated to the soft grass below and headed up towards the house.
Your father was waiting on the porch, the light still on despite the late hour, nursing a can, a soft smile on his face.
“Good to see that some things don’t change with her,” Your father opened the door for him. “Sometimes I think I lose her to her fancy schools, halfway around the world,” There was an air of melancholy to his words.
“I can assure you that you’ll never lose her,” Draco smiled down at you. “She adores and loves you more than you’ll ever know. The way she lights up when she talks about home...”
“You’ve made an old man very happy tonight Draco,” Your dad smiled. “Now go on up, I’m gonna close the house up for the night,”
.................................
“I’d like to apologize in advance for just about everythin’ that’s about to happen,” You took his hand smiling.
“How bad can they be?” Draco mused. “You’ve met my friends, and that went well,”
“Uhuh,” You laughed. “Sure. I’ll take that vote of confidence.” You easily backed your truck up into the circle of other vehicles surrounding a rather large bonfire that gave Draco a bit of anxiety.
“Look at what the tide washed in!” Someone called from the back of a pickup truck.
“No way!” Another gasped.
“Since when did you get home!?”
A girl rushed up and pulled you into a hug, dislodging your hand from his as he watched you spin with the girl, both of you laughing. A few others came up and hugs were passed out, hellos exchanged.
“Son of a bitch, you never said he was hot, Y/n,” The first friend who greeted—Rebecca— raised an eyebrow at you.
“Yes, because that’s all I look for in a guy,” You rolled your eyes, offering him a beer and taking a seat on the tailgate of your pickup.
“I’m just glad to see that you haven’t gone full brit on us,” Another—Megan smiled from the arms of a guy that Draco would have stereo typed to be on your arm instead. “Still think you can outshoot me?” She grinned.
“With my eyes closed,” You drawled, taking a sip of your own hard iced tea. “Seriously, y’all think I was just gonna forget everythin’?”
“We didn’t think you’d come back after find Mr. London over here,” Rebecca grinned.
“Yeah, you’ve been awful quiet over there Union Jack,” Megan narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt the same sort of anxiety he had around your parents. “What are your intentions with our Y/n?”
“Y’all really? What are we? High schoolers? And he has a name ya know.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against him, intertwining your finger with his. That eased his anxiety a bit as his eyes stayed trained on the dancing fire.
“Well, any guy worthy of catching your eye must be something special,” Tyler—the guy sitting next to Rebecca—shrugged.
“Oh, come on Tyler, we were freshman,” You scoffed, taking another swig from your can.
Draco’s interest was piqued at this new information. Was there something between you and Tyler that he wasn’t aware of? Was it something he had to worry about? His grip tightened around you and he caught the sly smile on your face at the action.
He learned a lot about you that night. You never were one to brag but stars did your friends like to embarrass you. You weren’t the top of your class, but you were pretty damn close. You always got yourself out of any kind of trouble and had about every boy at your heels in school and didn’t give them an air of interest—Tyler lamented quite obnoxiously. You could be out late Saturday night at a party, but every morning you were up early, in the choir at church—which shocked Draco, you had always been hesitant to sing around him, and he wasn’t exactly sure what ‘church’ was but... it was a question for another time.
The conversation lulled as food was brought out. You offered him a bit of mangled stretched out wire and a hot dog and shot him a dazzling smile before showing him how to roast it over the fire. It was messy and uncivilized, and Merlin, Draco loved it. Sitting cross-legged beside you, a paper plate in his lap filled with such rich food and sweet fruit, he truly caught a glimpse into your world again.
The buzz of insects and glow of others, the heat and warmth of the fire, the smell of grass and dirt, the sound of some country song blasting from a nearby truck, the sway of your body as you hummed along, the smile that rested on your face, the buzz of alcohol in his system, and the taste of it on your lips, Draco never felt more... free. The Dark Mark could be nothing more than a tattoo. His scars could mimic Alex’s dirt biking scars. His school career could be scoffed at like yours was. His parents could just be strict and rich. He could be free.
_____________________________
My thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of Draco’s hand as the night wound down. I had switched to sweet tea a while ago, knowing I’d had to drive home. There was something oddly comforting in seeing Draco in the midst of my small-town world. His careful blue eyes, stark blond hair, and pale creamy skin seemed to rebel at the mere thought, but the smile on his lips overrode it all, claiming he belonged.
In bed that night, my fingers traced over the scars that littered his chest. It was hard to imagine that the Harry I knew caused them. It seemed like worlds away. Even in Draco’s arms, London and magic and wizards sounded like a fairytale, some far-fetched dream.
“Your friends are... nice,” Draco murmured, drawing a chuckle from me.
“That’s one way to put it,” I propped up on my elbow. “Nothing too absurd I hope?” There was a slight teasing tone to my words.
He smiled lazily at me.
“It’s... different here,” Draco decided.
“Good different? Or bad different?”
“Free different.” He mused. “Like... it—my past... doesn’t exist at all. No one here knows, or judges me...”
“Well,” I whispered softly, running my hand through his hair. “It is a different world. Somethin’ you have to love about a small town,” A smile grew on my face. “And it’s not about your past, not anymore. It’s your future that’s important,”
“As long as you’re there,” Draco pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“For as long as you’ll have me,”
“Forever,”
I spent the next day teaching Draco how to bake. He was a decent cook after spending some time with my grandmother and I in London, but backing was a bit different, as Draco found out. With classic rock on the radio and mom and dad out for the day, Draco and I had a blast. A few times I saw him cheat and use wandless magic. It earned him some flour in his face—which he also magicked away. When I protested, he pressed a kiss to my lips and maybe I forgot why I was upset in the first place.
With the pie in the oven, Draco and I lounged across the couch. His hands were fiddling with my hair absentmindedly, as we watched The Breakfast Club. Hermione and Harry had done an alright job introducing Draco to muggle movies and shows. But as much as I loved Doctor Who—we were all convinced that the Doctor was a wizard secretly—or Sherlock, some American normalcy was appreciated.
That night I couldn’t help but laugh as Draco was very confused about football. It was like translating something through three languages—Wizard, to British, to American. After a while I think he gave up on the notion and just nursed his beer. The game held my interest for the second half while my father was very adamant about coaching from his armchair.
“You should have seen him at her little league games,” My mother muttered, causing Draco and I to chuckle and my dad to simmer some.
“Softball,” I filled Draco in. “Like baseball... but for girls I guess.” He nodded.
Before I knew it, the week ended, and Draco and I were packing to return back home, well to London anyway. I traded in my sundresses for jeans and sighed as I unzipped my suitcase, starting to unpack.
“It’s not like we’ll never go back,” Draco wrapped me up in his arms.
“We?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Did you not want me to go back?” A playful smile graced his lips.
“No, I do! I just... well, I know you Dray,” I draped my arms around his neck. “You like things a certain way in a certain order, and well, that,” I gestured vaguely. “was anything but,”
“Maybe it’s time I leave this behind me,” He murmured softly. “Stuffy offices and grey skies...”
My eyes widened in surprise and joy.
“Not completely,” He amended. “I do still have to work, they need me as Head Healer, and you have uni, and then there’s Teddy to think about, but... maybe a summer home there wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,”
I drew him into a tight hug, tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t even that he wanted to go back, it was that he wanted me with him when he did. He talked about a home like I’d be there beside him.
And when he was down on one knee, surrounded by my London family, with a simple ring, I knew that he did want me there beside him, and always would.
I gave him an escape from his past and he promised me a future.
