once bitten, and twice shy.
by
forever and a half.
prompt: playing safe by claudia jameson.
I've never fell back in love before—because I was afraid.
Of what?
Of being hurt. Again.
I'm not like the others.
...I don't believe that.
.x.
She owned a beauty parlor near the sandwich shop that stuck its sandwiches with the cute little umbrella toothpicks. It was quite odd, because the parlor was a small area with limited materials, and she was an aspiring twenty-four year old woman who would inherit a fortune from her father—not that she needed it, of course.
People glanced by the shop, and the majority of the people who came in were women holding their Louis Vuitton handbags.
"Hermione, you have a customer waiting for you!" her assistant, Ginny, shouted across the hall before her fiance, Harry, pulled her wrist and started playing tonsil hockey with her.
She rolled her eyes at her best friends, tousling her hair and standing behind the front desk, looking important.
"Hello, ma'am. How may I help you today?" Hermione said, her English accent emphasizing certain words.
The girl was clearly upset, her long pale blonde hair hiding over her face while her eyes were red, and there were dried tear stains on her cheeks. She sniffed, and Hermione automatically felt pity for the girl.
"Are you alright, miss?" Hermione asked, leaning over to inspect the girl's face.
The girl sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
"I'm fine, thanks," she said, her voice hoarse from crying. Hermione could hear that she sounded—dreamy, to put it. Her voice was nice, and calming, and the kind a mother would use to soothe their child to sleep. She looked more confident, brushed the stray hairs from her face away, and said, "I'm Luna. Luna Malfoy? I had an appointment scheduled here for 11:00."
Hermione looked through her planbook, and muttered the name, "Luna, Luna," before her finger found the name written there.
"A trim, eyebrow waxing, and—?"
"The whole thing," Luna said.
Hermione observed the girl. She was pretty, in fact, very pretty—aquamarine eyes shone even through the tears, and her face was round, with hints of baby fat, but that made her look cute, in a way. Her nose was the right length and width, and her lips were very prominent. Dimples appeared in her cheeks when she smiled, and her hair was the color of silver and blonde, cut in layers.
"It'll take about an hour and a half. We've already used up ten minutes," Hermione mentioned, looking up at the clock.
She waved a hand impatiently. "It's fine. I didn't even agree to this. My brother Draco insisted that I look good for my visit tonight for the neighbors, but who is he to say? I'm eighteen, and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions!"
Hermione took that all in. Sure, she was probably never going to see this lass again, but it was fun talking with her and such, though she didn't know about this "Draco" or whom the neighbors were.
"Take a seat right there. I'll be back soon."
Hermione disappeared into the back-room, looking at the two lovebirds in the corner, their eyes filled with lust.
She sighed, and walked past them as quickly as possible.
It hurt to see other people in love, because she thought she knew what it was like.
.x.
"Ow! Is it supposed to hurt that much?" Luna winced as Hermione plucked an eyebrow, little by little.
"I know, it feels strange, but we're almost done," Hermione muttered as she pushed her bushy brown hair aside.
Ginny had finished exchanging saliva with Harry, who promised to meet her at the sandwich shop later after her shift. She was currently painting Luna's nails a teal color.
Hermione then moved to Luna's eyes, and used mascara to lengthen her already-long lashes, and to add volume to them.
"So tell me about Draco?" Hermione asked, capping the mascara.
Luna sighed. "He's my brother—well, half-brother. He's from the Malfoy family—surely you've heard of them? My original name was Luna Lovegood, but when mummy died, and Daddy was left single, he met Narcissa Malfoy, whose husband had passed away some time ago. She had a son, Draco, who was about eighteen then. Daddy met her, they got married, and had me, but she insisted that he change his last name to Malfoy, to keep the family tradition or such. They marry distant cousins as to keep the heritage pure, so Daddy's name was changed from Xenophilius Lovegood to Xenophilius Malfoy. Isn't that funny? The man changed his surname instead of the woman!" Luna chuckled at this.
Hermione laughed nervously.
"Yeah, I guess so. That's interesting," Hermione said.
Outside they heard honking.
"It's probably Draco," Luna sighed.
Two more honks followed the first one.
Hermione scrunched her nose.
"Quite rude, I think," she muttered, and Luna laughed.
"He's very passionate about something, when he wants to be—it's in his blood."
The honking ceased, and a rattling came through the door.
In came a man, about mid-thirties, frowning.
"You," he said, pointing at Hermione.
She stared at him. Sure, he was good-looking, and he had the same silver-blonde hair that Luna had, but he had no reason to be so rude!
Silver eyes bore into her brown ones.
"Where's my sister?"
Luna called, "Over here, Draco!"
He walked over, and pulled on her newly done hair.
"You, let's go. Mother's waiting for us, and you need to get dressed."
"Ouch, ouch! Stop pulling on my hair! You know it hurts," she groaned.
He didn't say anything, but let go.
Lord.
He was beautiful. In every way. But he acted like a total ass.
"How much is it?" Draco said, his lips in a straight line.
Hermione calculated in her head.
"One hundred and twelve pounds, sir," she said, straining the word.
Draco sighed, and turned to his sister.
"What have you been telling her, you twat?" he said, his hair falling in front of his face.
"Nothing," Hermione said, interrupting him. "She had nothing to do with this conversation."
Luna's eyes softened, and she winced as Draco grabbed her wrist rather fiercely.
Draco slammed two one hundred dollars' worth of money, and left without change.
Luna smiled. "I'll hope to come here again, Miss Granger! Farewell!"
Draco sent a glare before leaving.
She heard the car door slam outside.
"Father, I don't even know these people. Why the bloody hell do we have to meet them?" Hermione complained as her dad began going through her wardrobe, choosing suitable dresses for their dinner meeting.
"Because, 'Mione," her father said as he held a dress with his teeth. "We want to make friends."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Har, har, daddy. No, really?"
"They have a son, quite a bit older than you, but still very handsome. Take a chance, I think you'll like him. And don't we want to welcome new neighbors?" Mister Granger said.
"Hmph."
Her father chuckled.
"Oh, relax, Hermy. You'll be fine. Here, do you like this pink dress, or the blue one?"
Hermione stared at them for a moment, and then made her decision.
"Pink," she said, taking the frilly dress from her father.
He laughed, and shooed her over to her room.
"Change. Be down in twenty minutes."
.x.
"I'm ready, Daddy," Hermione called while running down the stairs. She "oomphed!" as she nearly tripped down the stairs with her light pink stilettos.
"Darling, you look...beautiful," her father said as he hugged her, tears in his eyes. "You remind me so much of your mother."
It had been ten years since Elizabeth Granger had died.
"I know, Daddy. I know."
Brown wavy waist-length hair was straightened. Eyes were accented with pink eyeshadow, and volumizing mascara. Her cheeks had blush, and her lips were coated with a red-pink lip gloss.
Her father let go of her and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
"Let's go. They're waiting."
Hermione sat in the front seat, tapping her fingers impatiently on the window. She had finished her Jane Austen novel, Pride and Prejudice, for the fourth time, and was murmuring her favorite quotes under her breath.
"If a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out," Hermione muttered, twirling her hair.
She was a feminist, in a way, and didn't believe that men should be the ones controlling the women. What was it, the ancient Greek times?
"We're here," Mr. Granger said, turning off the ignition and pocketing the keys in his breast-pocket.
Hermione sighed, smoothed her dress, and stared at the house.
Almost as big as theirs.
Walking slowly up the steps, she hunched her shoulders, and pressed the doorbell.
Church rhymes followed it.
Unladylikely, she leaned against the door and sighed, an elbow on the wood, and her hand in straightened hair. Footsteps approached, and she quickly changed her posture.
"Hello," said a man, quite calmingly eerie, in a way.
It reminded her of someone she knew.
Hermione cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. "Hello, sir. I am Hermione Granger, here to welcome the new neighbors. I suppose that is you?"
The man smiled.
"Yes, I suppose it is me," he chuckled, taking Hermione's hand and pressing it to his lips. She blushed furiously, not making eye contact.
"Xenophilius Love—er, Xenophilius Malfoy," he corrected himself.
Hermione's eyes widened.
"Y-You mean…?"
"Daddy, who is it?" a girl shouted from the kitchen.
"The visitors, sweetheart. Be right there," he called back.
Xenophilius invited Hermione in, insisting that she keep her shoes on. Next followed John Granger, a brave, sturdy man.
"John Granger, nice to meet you," he said, shaking hands with Xenophilius.
"Xenophilius Malfoy."
This time, he did not stutter his name.
"Daddy?"
"Coming, sweetheart!" Xenophilius called back.
He led the two to the living room, which was enormous in size. Pointing to the sofas, he said, "Please, make yourself at home."
Hermione sat down awkwardly on the loveseat, while her dad was comfortably resting himself on the armchair.
"Would you like anything to drink?" Xenophilius said, pouring himself a small glass of champagne.
"Red wine would be nice, if you've any," Mr. Granger said, clearing his throat. Hermione rolled her eyes at her father's alcoholic behavior.
"Water without ice would be nice, thank you," Hermione said, watching her dad scarf down the red wine.
Xenophilius smiled, and called his children in.
"Luna, dear? Draco? Come here!"
Out skipped Luna, her hair, makeup, face, nails, and everything else done by Hermione. She stopped skipping when she saw her.
"Mione? Is that you?" Luna said, squinting.
"What is it?" a deep voice answered. Draco walked out, a perfect, pristine example of a prick.
Who was insanely good-looking in a tuxedo.
Hermione was at a loss for words, until she heard a shriek from the kitchen.
"Luna! You broke a glass?" Narcissa Malfoy shouted, windows ready to break anytime.
Luna winced, and quickly sat next to Hermione.
"Hi, it's great to see you again," Luna whispered, hoping her mother wouldn't find her.
"Same," Hermione said, her eyes on Draco, studying him.
Xenophilius grabbed Draco by the shoulder, to which Draco shrug him off. "Get off," he said.
Xenophilius chuckled nervously, and said, "So, Miss and Mr. Granger, I guess we're new neighbors now—"
"John. And call her Hermione, please," he spoke for her.
"Aa, yes. Anyway, thank you for coming. We're fairly new to the area. Narcissa should be coming anytime soon, dear, where is she—?"
"She's cleaning up the mess Luna made," Draco sneered, a hand through his hair. Luna frowned.
"Don't blame it on me, Draco! You were part of the reason for it!" Luna retaliated, standing up.
Mr. Granger "shhed" the two, and said, "Why don't we all have dinner and discuss our conversations later?"
Luna blushed furiously, embarrassed to make a first impression on her neighbor's father.
Xenophilius smiled, and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, leading them to the kitchen.
"Right this way."
.x.
Hermione carefully cut her medium-rare filet mignon with her steak knife, making sure no juice got on the table. She placed the meat in her mouth, slowly, and chewed, making sure to wipe her mouth afterwards.
Whenever she ate, she was precise—no food could be spilled at the edge of teh plate, nothing stuck in her teeth, and when finished, the knife, fork, and sometimes spoon, were placed as an X on the plate, the napkin folded carefully next to her drinking-glass.
"So, Hermione—" Xenophilius began, chewing loudly and pointing at her with his fork. "Tell us about your job."
"I work in a beauty parlor, sir."
Xenophilius raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really, now? I'd assume that with your brains, beauty, and money, you could at least be a Professor of some sort, or maybe a doctor?"
Hermione blushed, flattered. "I work in a beauty parlor, sir, because I love coming in and seeing all my friends—Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter? Perhaps you've heard of them? And to greet each customer like they were my own brother or sister, seeing that I have no siblings. Whenever customers leave after their appointment, they tell me the next time they come in that they feel their confidence boosted, and that alone makes me happy."
Hermione took a sip of water to clear her throat.
"Very impressive, indeed," Narcissa said, her voice shrilly and high. "Hermione, you're a special one. We'd love to have you in the family, wouldn't we, Draco?"
Hermione nearly choked on her water, and Luna patted her on the back like a baby.
Draco, too, simply frowned and looked away.
"I am in no means interested in dating a woman who works in a beauty parlor," Draco sneered. "The place where people fix up other people—ones that are fat, ugly, and unattractive. Probably what you looked like, before," he said, jabbing his steak with his knife a little too hard.
The table was quiet, and Hermione stared into his eyes, cold, motionless.
"Well, then," she whispered. "Fan-tastic."
The room was quiet, and Luna stood up, shaking the table.
"Hermione, I apologize for Draco's inappropriate behavior," she said, grabbing a hold of his perfect hair. "He can be such an ass, you know?"
Narcissa and Xenophilius stood up, too.
"Luna!"
"Forget it," Hermione said. "It's alright, really. No need to make a big fuss out of it," she said, her eyes wet.
"Hermione—?" Luna began, and her father stood up. Everyone but Draco crowded around Hermione.
"I'm fine!" she said, a little too shrilly, like Narcissa. "Really, I'm fine. See?"
She smiled a big smile with her Crest-commercial teeth.
"Do you have a bathroom? I'd like to wash my hands, please. I—I've got sauce on my hands."
Luna frowned, upset at her brother's behavior.
"Third door to the right."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, her voice cracking. She ran, covering her face so no one would see the tears falling out freely.
Nearly slamming the bathroom door, she sat on the floor and cried, wiping her tears away with her pink dress.
.x.
"Draco, you unbelievable bastard!" Luna shouted, ready to cry herself. "You are such an ass!"
He remained motionless; cold.
"Draco," Xenophilius began. Narcissa was behind him.
"It's not my fault," Draco said, rolling his eyes, as if nothing had happened.
John Granger sat where he was, frowning, tapping his foot and hoping the best for his daughter.
"Why, you son of a bi—" Luna began, ready to claw his eyes out.
The door shut.
"Daddy, I think it's getting late. I—I have to go, to open up the shop early."
Hermione stood there, her pink dress crinkled, her eyes red, and her nose runny.
"I'll go by myself. Please stay and enjoy yourself, daddy. I love you," she murmured, kissing him on the cheek before waving goodbye at Luna and running out the door, home.
"She didn't even take the car keys," Draco muttered, finishing his red wine, acting as if nothing had happened.
.x.
Her phone rang once.
Twice.
Three more times.
Hermione was in her nightgown, sniffling softly, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
Hi, you've reached Hermione Granger. I'm not at the phone right now, but if you were to leave a message, that'd be great! I'll get back to you ASAP. Bye!
Beep.
"Hermione, please, please, please answer! I'm sorry for my brother, he's always like that, but please, Hermione. Pick up?" Luna begged through her message.
End.
Ignore voicemail.
She didn't want to hear anything from Luna.
She didn't want to her anything from Xenophilius, or Narcissa, and especially not Draco himself.
The garage door opened.
Daddy was home.
She pulled her legs to her chest, tightly, and bit her lip to keep the sound from coming out.
John Granger knocked on her door quietly, once, and then twice, before turning the knob.
"Mione? You sleeping?"
He saw a large pile of black, and sat on the edge of the bed, tousling her hair.
Hermione tried not to squeak or make a sound.
"Hermione, dear, I'm sorry for what happened today. It's just that—well, there are bad people in the world. But there are also good ones. Like Luna, right? You guys are friends, aren't you?"
Hermione did not respond, hoping that he would leave her alone and pretend that she was asleep.
He kissed her forehead.
"I love you, 'Mione."
Closing the door, she stretched out her limbs, and gave a cry of sorrow.
"I miss you, mommy," she whispered. "Help me."
Draco was in his apartment in London, which he bought from his own money.
It was hot, steamy, dark, and loud.
Perfect.
He wrapped one arm around one slut's waist, and the other on another hooker's ass. What were their names? Daisy...Rose...Pansy? Yes, that was it, Pansy. As for the other...? He didn't know.
He was sweating, feeling up one woman while he pulled the other girl's hair.
They both moaned, their hands on his chest, undoing his tie, his belt, his clothing...touching each other...
"Bitches," he said naughtily, making sure to pleasure them in any way he could before the bedroom.
The party music was blaring, it was loud, and Draco was pretty sure someone spiked the punch.
The drinking, the music, the women...
He grabbed a girl from behind, his hands on her hips, thrusting through their clothing.
Draco pulled on their clothing, ripping each piece off each of his mistresses.
They were all nearly naked, and his pressed his lips fiercely against each stripper, tasting the cherry lipgloss each had on.
"Bedroom. Now," he muttered, squeezing their breasts together, twisting their nipples so that they moaned in pleasuring pain.
Once he shoved them onto the covers, he removed his boxers, and went into two deep, wet heavens.
But all that was on his mind was that Granger girl, the tears flowing down her beautiful face.
.x.
"Hello, Daddy," Hermione said, her eyes still swollen from last night. "How was the party?"
John Granger sat frozen at the breakfast table, the crumbs on the table and his mouth, along with the floor—something that Hermione couldn't believe that she could be related to.
"Hermione, we need to talk. About that Draco boy—" he began.
She held a hand up to his face.
"No, I don't want to say anything. Please don't make me."
She lowered her hand, and attempted to smile.
"Thanks, Daddy."
She sat down across from her father, buttering an English muffin tenderly before biting over the table, careful not to get crumbs on her skirt.
"Bye, father. I must get to the parlor early—someone made an appointment for a full body do-over."
John Granger smiled, leaned over and kissed his daughter's cheek.
"Bye, 'Mione. Good luck!"
She smiled, blew him a kiss, and grabbed the car keys.
.x.
Draco lied next to his mistresses, one hand on a nipple, the other on an ass.
He stared down at his limp member.
He was close to a climax, but always never there. Ever.
Draco removed both hands from the two bodies, and placed them around himself.
He went slow, then quickened his pace, and went faster and faster and faster—
"Damn it!" he almost shouted, feeling himself cumming.
White hot liquid spilled over, and he sighed in contentment, pressing some to his lips.
The one girl, Pansy, turned over and yawned, stroking his hair.
"Morning, babe," she said seductively, leaning in to kiss him.
He wasn't in the mood. "Not now," he said, pushing her hand away.
She frowned, and tempted him by squeezing her chest together and grabbing his cock, wanting to put her mouth around it.
He pulled her hair.
"Now, bitch. Put it all in, now."
The other hooker looked over at him, frowning. She wanted some action, too!
So she climbed on top of his face, and spread her legs wide apart.
He smirked, flicking his tongue into her lower lips, tasting the sweet juices she gave out.
But even then, he couldn't keep his mind off one girl he had met.
Hermione Granger.
Sure, she was pretty. Attractive, even. No, she was incredibly beautiful.
He had seen prettier, in Victoria's Secret catalogs, and compared to the lingerie models, she was simply just attractive. Not breathtaking.
But those women put on makeup, had plastic surgery, and whatnot.
And she?
Hermione Granger was all-natural.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember all he could of her.
Beautiful wavy brown hair, the color of chestnut.
Matching eyes. On the red side, cinnamon colored.
A heart shaped face, the widow's peak very prominent, as with her cheekbones and dimples.
Flawless skin.
A thin, petite body.
And those tears running down her goddess-like face.
Draco frowned, remembering what had happened last night.
He didn't want to admit it, but he felt...sort of sorry for what he had said. Sure, he meant it at first, but seeing how fragile she was, and how he shouldn't make first impressions...
Which was why he went to his downtown apartment, to escape from guilt by fucking the brains out of shameless whores senselessly.
And it was nice, it made him feel good. For a while.
He thought back to the day before, where he was just simply rotten to her. He felt ashamed of his actions.
And so, turning to his side to face Pansy, he released all his emotions through one hard thrust.
.x.
"Oh, hi, Luna," Hermione said, smiling when she came in.
Luna smiled a small one back, before saying, "Hermione, we need to talk."
Hermione frowned. "If this is about last night, I'm fine, I just had a spur of the moment, you know? Time of the month," Hermione laughed nervously.
Luna was not convinced.
"My brother is an ass. You know that for yourself now. And I apologize for everything he's done. I know you were hurt yesterday, and it hurt me, too. I've suffered through that for eighteen years, Hermione," Luna said, her voice echoing and quiet.
Hermione frowned, and felt the heat rising to her cheeks in embarrassment.
"Luna, I..."
"Not finished," she said abruptly, holding a finger up. Hermione quieted down, and listened to Luna, half-heartedly.
"Anyway, if there's anything I can do for you, I'll do it. I mean, we're considered friends now, aren't we?" she said, a small smile curling on her lips.
Hermione pushed her hair away from her face.
"Yeah. I guess so."
They both giggled like teenage schoolchildren, and Luna wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck.
"Great. Now, I had an appointment for a pedicure?" Luna said, brightening the tone.
Hermione laughed, a real laugh.
"Sit in the chair in front of the clock. I'll be out in ten minutes. Blue polish, I presume?"
Luna nodded, and Hermione smiled, gathering all the items she'd need.
.x.
Sliding latex gloves on her hands, she uncapped the bottle of blue and grabbed Luna's foot gently.
"Don't kick me, if you're ticklish," Hermione warned, giggling at the end of her sentence.
Luna snickered. "I'll try not to!"
Hermione smirked, watching Luna's expression before slowly, taunting her, taking the brush out of the bottle and putting it on her toes.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"Oh, damn," Hermione muttered. She called to Ginny, "Hey, could you get that?"
Ginny laughed, tousling Hermione's hair.
"Ask Harry. Well, actually, don't. I'll do Luna's toes for you. Go and pick up the phone like a good boss."
Hermione playfully slapped her friend, and all three girls laughed. With a cheerful laugh, she answered, "Hello?"
"Is this Hermione Granger?"
The voice was deep, dark. Cold. She looked at the caller ID. An unfamiliar number.
"Yes, may I ask who is calling?"
Silence on the other line.
"Draco Malfoy."
Her breath immediately hitched, and her cheeks turned bright red. This was beyond embarrassing.
"Hello. Well, I'm busy right now, so if you could just, well, leave a message..."
"No."
His sharp voice pierced her awkwardness.
"No, I need to talk to you. Why don't we have dinner, at around 8:10, at my place? I'll take you somewhere, and we can talk."
Hermione gulped, and loosened her collar.
"I—No, I don't think I can make it..."
"I'm picking up Luna in an hour. I'll talk to you then."
He hung up.
Hermione was red, tomato red, fire-truck red.
She wanted to hide in a closet and never come out.
.x.
In came beauty, with his silvery-blonde hair and perfect body, with the right chiseled features.
"Hermione."
Hermione did not turn around, she knew who was behind her. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the bottle of opened nail polish all over the floor.
"Look at me, you idiot," Draco muttered, a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off.
"No, don't touch me," she nearly yelled, causing the room to be silent.
"Draco, we must go, you know—" Luna began.
He did not respond, but instead, handed her the car keys.
"Wait in there. I'll be out."
Ginny nervously scooted near the back door, where Harry was waiting for her. Her shift was over, anyway.
So it was just the two of them.
"Hello," Hermione muttered, not making eye contact.
Why, oh why had she been put in this situation, right here, right now?
He grabbed her wrist, a little tighter than necessary.
"Dinner. You, me, today. I'll take you somewhere fancy."
She shook him off, but instead, he held tighter. She winced in pain. However, he ignored it.
"No, I can't make it—I've got plans," she stuttered, her face turning red.
He frowned, and loosened his grip.
"Hermione, we need to talk. It's six o'clock already. Why don't we just get there two hours earlier? We need to discuss things."
"If it's about yesterday, then please, it's already been resolved—"
He bore his eyes into hers, fiercefully. His grip tightened until she saw her hand turn purple.
"I need to talk to you. Do you understand me, or not? There is no yes or no in this, we do this my way, Hermione."
She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes again.
"Yes, yes, fine," she whispered, and he let go. Shaking her hand, she pressed it to her chest fearfully, as if he might try to do something else to her.
"Good."
He turned his back on her.
"Meet me at the front door when you're finished cleaning up. I'm taking Luna home."
Hermione nodded slowly, shaking. When he left, she fell to the floor, trembling.
.x.
She found spare clothes in the back of the room, ones that were clean; new.
Grabbing her black handbag, she gripped it nervously while straightening the folds on her knee-length skirt, with two inch heels and a purple V-neck blouse. She had put on some make-up, though now she was wondering why she dressed up for this occasion, with an unbelievably sexy asshole.
She heard honking outside.
Sighing, she fixed her lipstick and locked the parlor. Placing them in her handbag, she was greeted by Draco, in a tux, just as nice as the night before.
He offered a hand out to her. Hermione thought that he was going to kiss it. Instead, he shook it, fiercely.
"You look nice tonight, Hermione. New clothes?"
"I—Draco, can we just please get this over with?"
He frowned. "I'm trying to be nice to you, so all that you could respond with is, 'Yes, Draco, they are. Thank you.' How about that? Let's try this again. You look nice tonight, Hermione. New clothes?"
"Yes. They—they are. Thank you. You look nice too," she mumbled, not making eye contact.
He smirked.
"Very nice."
He opened the door for her before getting into the other side. Turning on the ignition, she said, "Where are we going?"
"Le Chateau Fleur De Resturante. Perhaps you've heard of it?"
Hermione's face turned pale. That was one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, if not the most expensive.
"Y-Yes."
He smirked. "My treat."
.x.
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," Draco said to the receptionist, scanning the list for his name.
"Aa, yes, Mr. Malfoy. Right this way, sir," he said, holding two menus. Hermione walked a bit behind Draco, admiring his six-foot build, while she was only five-three, with the heels.
The receptionist slid the chair out for the two to sit down.
"Your server will be right with you."
It was amazing.
Everything like a fairy-tale dinner would be.
Next to Draco was a bucket of ice, with one of the best champagnes cooling in it.
"What's that for?" she asked, nervously. Playing with a strand of her hair, she eyed the alcohol suspiciously.
His face turned serious.
"I invited you to dinner because I wanted to give you an apology."
"Draco, I told you, it's alright!" she complained, groaning.
He chuckled at her behavior.
"No, it's not."
He leaned in, and she saw his eyes. Silver, gray, blue...endless pools of mist.
"I want to apologize. For last night. It was wrong of me to judge you like that. You see, it seemed like you were a spoiled brat—you had everything a normal young adult would want. Looks, a nice father, and plenty of money. And I took you as a woman who didn't care about anything. I could feel that you were hurt. And I'm sorry, for that, and for everything," Draco finished.
She smiled inwardly.
He didn't take his eyes off hers. He made direct eye contact, did not fiddle with any of his body parts or clothing, and said it straight, and direct. Something she liked about him. He had a big ego, but he was able to admit that he was wrong.
"Open the champagne."
His lips curled, and she smiled. He poured her a glass, and himself.
They drank.
.x.
"It's nine o'clock, I must go now," Hermione said, picking up her purse and coat.
He held her wrist. "Why so early?"
She frowned. "It's not early. Anyway, I have to go. I'm sorry. Thank you for the wonderful din—"
Warm lips were pressed on hers, quickly, in a flash. Her mind went dizzy, she couldn't even comprehend what was happening...
He pulled away, his face blank. He was not smiling.
"I—what was that?" Hermione stuttered, blushing.
His face remained motionless.
Hermione tried to form a proper sentence. "D-Do you do that to all your new friends?"
He stepped closer to her. She could feel his hot breath on her chin.
"Only the ones I'm attracted to."
And his lips caught hers in another kiss, biting them, wanting entrance to her tongue. She did not fight back, yet did not kiss him in return. She stood there, making sure her eyes weren't closed. She couldn't show him that she was liking it. She couldn't, not at all, not at—
"Draco, this is too fast."
"Nothing's too fast, Hermione," he responded. She frowned.
There was silence.
"I'm sorry, I must go now," she whispered. She grabbed her handbag and left, leaving him to pay the check.
While calling a taxi, she couldn't help but touch her swollen lips, tasting the flavor of vanilla and spearmint.
She feared this wouldn't be the last she'd seen of Draco Malfoy.
I'm done with the first chapter! It took soooo long to write. Painful.
Please leave a review, just so I know that you're alive.
Yo, and don't get me wrong. I love Ron/Hermione, even more than Dramione. But this story fit Dramione more. I love both pairings very much.
Thanks for reading!
-forever and a half.