[One – December 20]
She arrives at his place of living – the entire top floor penthouse suite of one of London's most prestige apartment buildings. In the muggle world; go figure. The elevator takes her straight into his lobby, which is just as big as her entire flat itself. She makes a mental note to mention this in casual conversation with Caroline.
It's bright and early Monday morning on account of the fact that her family will be expecting her in just two hours. And it takes almost two hours to get there.
She walks further into the flat, taking in the very modern-day, expensive-looking furniture and fixings. It's all very...Malfoy, she must admit. She enters the living room to find one blond wizard sitting on a long, black couch. He's wearing a dark grey suit – a muggle one – with a white dress shirt, black tie and a dress shoes that probably cost more than her entire outfit – a large slouchy green sweater, black leggings and knee-high, dark brown boots. His hair is shorter than it was just a few days ago, and tousled to look messy yet sophisticated – and sexy, though she'd never admit that.
"You do realize that we're going to see my family, we're not meeting the Queen," she says.
"Good morning to you too, Granger," he mutters, taking a sip out of a tall, ceramic coffee mug. "And of course I know that. If I was going to meet the Queen I'd have done my hair."
She rolls her eyes. "You don't have to wear a suit. In fact you probably shouldn't."
He looks at her over the top of his Daily Prophet. "I wasn't aware there was a dress code for this occasion."
"There isn't, it's just-"
"Look, Granger, I know what I'm doing."
"Really? Because it seems to me it's going to make everyone think this a hoax because we don't match," she snaps.
He smirks, pushing himself to his feet. "First of all it is a hoax, so don't forget that. And second of all, I'm only wearing a suit to make me look busy and professional. This way your family will see and believe that I'm successful instead of you just telling them I am. If they ask why I'm wearing a suit I'll tell them I had a meeting with the board of directors at the hospital."
She blinks, staring up at him. "You've thought this through."
"Of course I have – what kind of Slytherin would I be if I didn't?"
"Very well," she nods. Bringing her purse around, she digs inside it and pulls out a cellphone before handing it to him.
He stares at it dumbly. It's attractive looking, sure, with its flat screen. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
"You're a doctor, remember? You need a cellphone for emergencies."
"I don't even know how to use one and you want me to pretend I own one?"
She rolls her eyes, pushing it into his hands. "I'll show you how to use it on the way there. Where are your bags? We have to go."
"Before we go, did you speak with Avalon?"
She sighs. "Yes."
"And?"
"She's skeptical, but I told her to trust me – so don't you dare make me regret this."
X
"I still don't see why we couldn't have just apparated some place close by and then taken a car from there," he argues for what feels like the hundredth time as she turns onto a narrow, snow covered road with a just a few tire tracks. "Would've saved us nearly two hours."
"We would've also missed all the great scenery," she points out.
"Mhmm, 'cause you won't get enough of that being cooped up in the middle of freaking nowhere."
"If I had known you were going to complain so much I would've told you to meet me here," she snaps.
"If I had known the drive was going to be like that I wouldn't have come at all and you would've been humiliated by your dear cousin, yet again," he snaps back.
The next two minutes are spent in silence as she pulls her car to a stop behind her parent's SUV. She sighs, leaning back against her seat as she looks sideways at him to see him staring out his passenger side window at the cottage before them.
"It's bigger than I thought it would be," he comments.
"Does it reach your standards?"
He smirks. "Not sure yet."
She rolls her eyes before closing them and tilting her head up towards the ceiling of the car. Her stomach is in knots – what if this doesn't work? What if they see straight through their charade? What if Caroline makes a fools of her in front of everyone – in front of him? That's just what he needs...more ammunition to hit her with.
"It's going to be fine, Granger," he tells her calmly. "I'm an excellent actor."
"I'm not," she murmurs.
"Just follow my lead."
"You can still back out if you want to," she says softly, looking across at him. "I mean, it's not too late."
"I'm not backing out, Granger. If I was going to back out I would've backed out two hours ago when you screamed at me to get in the car."
"Well, yeah, but-"
"We made a deal – and Malfoy's always stick to their deals. The question is: do Grangers?"
She laughs softly, rolling her eyes.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now how do I get out of this death trap?"
"Pull the handle and push on the door."
He scowls. "That doesn't even make any sense," he mutters, but follows the instructions nonetheless. The door opens two seconds later and he grins triumphantly. "Well would you look at that..."
X
The second they walk into the house, Draco carrying both his and her suitcase, she knows there's no going back. Especially since Caroline is the first person to greet her.
"Mini!" The raven-haired woman screeches, jumping up from the couch beside her boyfriend before running towards her. She throws her arms around her cousin's neck, hugging her tightly. "Took you long enough! Your mum was starting to worry."
"Mum always worries," Hermione laughs, rolling her eyes as she hugs her cousin back.
Caroline releases her cousin and takes a step back. Her gaze on the man behind Hermione. "You must be the fiancé," she coos, smiling brightly. "Draco, right?"
He nods, setting both suitcases on the floor as the rest of Granger's family join them in the front hall to greet them. For a moment he almost feels overwhelmed by all the introductions and the hugs from the females.
"You have to tell us everything, Mini. Where you met, how you met, how he proposed-"
"Of course," Hermione agrees quickly, glancing back at the only blond in the room who raises his eyebrows knowingly. "I think we're just going to put our stuff away first, right honey?"
He nods. "Sounds good to me."
X
"One bed?" He asks, eyebrows raised at he stares at the king-sized bed before them.
"I'm surprised my father allowed this," Hermione jokes.
"One bed."
She rolls her eyes. "We have magic, Malfoy, remember? We can split it into two if it bothers you so much."
"And if someone walks in and sees that there's two beds instead of one?"
"Would you rather sleep on the floor?"
"Why would I have to sleep on the floor? I'm your guest," he points out.
"Because it's the proper thing to do."
"Yeah, perhaps if I was your actual fiancé, but I'm not."
"Then what do you propose we do?"
He sighs, lifting both suitcases onto the top of the bed. "Do you snore?"
"No."
"Are you a blanket hog?"
"We can use two blankets."
He nods. "Fine. We'll share the one bed – although I don't see why you couldn't have asked for a room with two beds."
"Oh, like that wouldn't have been suspicious," she snaps.
"Couples sleep in separate beds all the time-"
"Yeah, when they're old. Besides, how was I supposed to know you were so afraid of sharing a bed with a girl?"
He smirks. "You're not a girl, Granger."
"Oh, right, silly me. I'm just a mudblood," she mutters.
He blinks, staring at the back of her head as she begins to unpack her suitcase. "That's not what I meant," he says softly. "I just meant-"
"I know what you meant," she whispers. "I'm sorry, it just came out."
He sighs. "Look, I'm sure we can share a bed without trying to kill each other, right?"
"I make no promises."
He chuckles. "'Atta girl."
X
The afternoon is spent preparing the cottage for decorating – which will be done tomorrow, along with picking and trimming the tree.
Dinner is served at 5 o'clock sharp. Everyone gathers in the warm, cozy dining room around a large rectangular table. The table is covered in a red and white Christmas cloth and eight spots are set with plates and silverware. Jim Granger is sat at one head of the table while his brother, Hermione's uncle, sits at the other. To Jim's right sits his wife, Helen. Next her: Hermione and then Draco. On the other side, next to George is his wife Mary, Caroline and then Tyler.
Three bites in, Caroline pipes up. "So, tell us then," starts, taking a sip of her red wine.
Hermione blinks, mid-chew. "Sorry?"
"Tell us about the two of you!" She pushes.
"Oh. Well I'm not sure that's necessary-"
"Of course it is, darling," Helen tells her softly, smiling sideways at her.
"I mean it's like one minute you were single and the next you're engaged," Caroline giggles. "Obviously there's a story here – one you've kept a secret for goodness knows how long."
She licks her lips, glancing sideways at Draco and he nods at her. She swallows the lump in her throat and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She's practiced this moment and gone over the details a hundred times – and yet her mind is blank. She doesn't remember anything they'd come up with just a few days ago. "Um, well, it was just so long ago now that I'm not even sure I remember," she jokes, laughing uneasily.
Nobody else laughs; they just stare at her expectantly.
Draco looks from Hermione – the damsel in distress – to the rest of her family. She's sinking, no doubt forgotten everything they've gone over a hundred times. He clears his throat and leans forward, placing his hand over hers on the dinner table. "Come now, it wasn't that long ago, darling," he says, grinning playfully. "Of course you remember – I remember. And I'll never forget it."
"Aww!" Caroline gushes, her attention glued on the pale, blond man.
Hermione looks at him, smiling softly as she holds onto his fingers for good measure.
"We met just over a year ago – November 23rd," he starts, leaning back in his chair again. "It was snowing and I decided to duck into a little coffee shop down the street from my flat on my way to work. The place was bustling with people trying to get warm so the lineup was almost out the door, but I waited anyway. Next thing I know the door opens behind me, a huge gust of wind blows into the cafe – with snow and everything – and some klutzy, beautiful woman with messy hair and pink cheeks falls into my arms. Literally-"
"-I fell, but he caught me right before I landed on my face," Hermione explains, finally finding her voice.
Draco smirks, looking sideways at her. "So I stood her upright, told her I was a doctor, requested to make sure she wasn't hurt – to which she snapped at me: 'I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much,'-"
"-I was having a bad day."
"And then bought her a coffee and sent her on her way before I headed off to work."
"Then he couldn't stop thinking about me," Hermione quips, smiling triumphantly.
He looks at her, narrowing his eyes as he catches onto her game. "Says the one who couldn't stop thinking about me."
She laughs innocently, taking a bit of her homemade sandwich.
"Anyway," he continues, playing his part. "I went back the next day – my day off – on the off-chance that she would be there and there she was, sitting at one of the small round tables with her back to corner and a book in her hands-"
"Of course," Caroline snorts.
Draco smirks. "So I bought myself a coffee, asked her if I could join her – to which she asked me a series of skill-testing questions-"
"-I had to be sure I wasn't wasting my time," Hermione says defensively at her mother's raised eyebrows. Her father high-fives her from across the table.
"Which I passed, with flying colours I must add, and then we spent what, three hours talking?"
"Four."
"Four hours talking-"
"And flirting.."
He raises his eyebrows, looking playfully offended. "Hey, I wasn't the only one flirting."
Her cheeks instinctively turn a dark shade of ink as she slips down in her chair.
Draco smirks, making a mental note to bank that little fact for later ammunition as he turns back to her family. "Anyway, we went on a total of three dates the following weekend. And we've been together ever since."
"That's so sweet," Mary gushes.
"But, wait a second, that means you were together last Christmas – I asked you if you were seeing anyone and you said no!" Caroline accuses.
Hermione blinks, caught off guard. "I didn't want to rush into anything or jinx it-"
"Actually neither of us did. That's why we kind of kept it a secret until recently," Draco adds.
"How long have you been engaged?" Helen asks.
"Three weeks," they reply in unison, just as they'd rehearsed.
"How long have you been living together? Are you living together?" Mary asks.
"I moved her into my flat four months ago," Draco replies.
"And nobody knew of your relationship? Friends, coworkers?" Caroline presses.
"Well, our friends guessed at it," replies Hermione. Draco nods.
"Have you set a date?" Jim wonders between bits of his steak.
"For what?" Hermione wonders.
"For the wedding, silly!" Caroline coos.
"Oh. Oh! Um," she glances nervously at Draco, leans forward once more to save the day.
"Nothing's set in stone yet, but we're thinking a spring wedding. It's Hermione's favourite season," he says.
"Oh that'll be lovely!" Mary gushes.
And as her family delves into a conversation about what time of year they think is the best season for a wedding, Hermione turns to face the blond man beside her. The same man, who just a few days ago, was a right prat to her 24/7. She smiles softly, catching his gaze. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and smiles back. Perhaps they'll make it through this week after all.
X
Later that night, after changing into her pyjamas in the adjoining bathroom, Hermione walks back into the bedroom. She comes to an immediate halt as she comes face-to-face with a half-naked Malfoy, standing before her in a pair of emerald pyjama pants. He's in the middle of putting on a plain white T-shirt when she walks out, his chest otherwise bare. "Sorry," she apologizes quickly, spinning on her heel to face the bathroom door with her back to him.
"I'm decent now," he chuckles.
When she turns back around he is, in fact, dressed – and preparing the bed by removing the various useless pillows from the headboard. "Sorry, I should've knocked."
He shrugs, glancing up at her through his eyelashes. He smirks, noticing her flannel red pyjamas with white snowflakes. "Stylish," he teases.
"I get cold," she defends weakly.
"Mhmm," he murmurs, unconvinced.
"So I wanted to thank you," she says, changing the subject quickly as she walks towards the bed to help him. "For speaking up at dinner. I couldn't have done that alone."
"Well you aren't alone," he points out. "My reputation is riding on this too."
She rolls her eyes as she pulls the covers back. "Anyway, thank you."
He looks at her for a moment, watching her crawl under the covers and settle into the mattress with her back to him. "You're welcome."
