While it may have been easy for Hermione to forget her reality and slip beneath Malfoy's charming, not to mention sufficiently distracting, nightly adventures, it was not as easy for her to wake up in the consequences of the morning after, half plastered to his unconscious, half naked body all too unaware of the impending doom that was beginning to beat that terrible rhythm in against her heart. The very second her heavy lids blinked open in the harsh daylight braising the room in its entirety, she felt the sinking panic crash into the pit of her stomach, sending her heart up into her throat, threatening to escape her mouth if she dared open it, forcing it down as it screamed at her to run immediately before he awoke to the same conclusions.
Despite the fact that he'd nearly asked her to stay, or practically told her she'd better, Hermione tore a page from Draco's very own book and did the only thing she could rationalize in such a situation that she'd truly never been in before…she turned her back and ran as fast as she could. The moment she could dislodge herself from his bed, scramble to dress her nerve wrecked body, and aparate home with the utmost urgency and speed, she was gone leaving nothing but her dozens of shopping bags and the lingering scent of her skin on his sheets in her wake.
It didn't take her long to plunge herself into the hottest shower she could manage once she'd made it to her parents flat to properly prepare herself for the day but the haunting ghost that was Malfoy still seemed to hold scent against her flesh, corrupting her senses while they harbored on her brain. The steam of her shower wasn't nearly enough to get the comforted touch of his skin off of her and she couldn't help but wonder if Ron would know something was awry upon seeing the mere sight of her. No, she hadn't exactly betrayed him but that didn't stop the fear of him bringing the situation under the light of his every hostile microscope.
Hermione stood with her shoulders slumped before her bathroom mirror, fully dressed in her own clothes that she'd managed to snag from Malfoy's bathroom floor and run a quick refreshing spell over, with her hair tugged back into a loose and rather unconvincing pony tail, staring weakly back at the judgment dancing on her reflections face. Despite the layers of makeup she'd already tried to glamour on, heavy bags still hung beneath the lines of her eyes from her late night adventures, her lids hanging in her exhaustion. She looked as awful on the outside as she honestly felt on the inside. Hermione drug the pad of a single forefinger a crossed the rise of her cheekbone, smoothing the bronzer with a small shake of her head as her reflection sighed out, "You know it's wrong."
The words sounded so much worse coming from her own voice, lowering her head a few inches lower while she drew her bottom lip into her mouth to clench between the rows of pearled teeth. It was right, well, she was right. She knew it was wrong, even if she hadn't done anything truly physical to cheat on her boyfriend; she had still sought comfort from another man. She had sought out emotional comfort from the very man that she knew would rile up the situation further yet as much regret as she should have been feeling for Ron, however, her heart couldn't help but shred a few tears for what she'd now done to Malfoy.
In truth, Hermione often wondered after her life altering war experience with Draco if her insatiable curiosity for him was simply a half cooked idea in her head to ease the continuous pain and heart break of her relationship, if it was all just some fallacy in her head like Harry had so often tried to convince her. She had known that by coming to him last night, by running to him in weakness that she most likely would not like the outcome but still she ran. She knew it was a bad idea because in truth, what good could have come from that situation? What good had come, if any? And now she had to live with the fact that in nearly a week she would she sharing a dormitory, unable to hide, from the man that she used and ran from at first falter of her own problems.
She had used him, right? That was why she felt so horrible…right? At least that was what she was choosing to convince herself that it was only that. All she could do was put faith that Malfoy would surely hate her, truly hate her, after this and most likely go back to putting her back onto his cold, ignore list if she was lucky. He could go back to his old ways and she could try and swallow her pride and slink back into the crumbling debris of her relationship and attempt to wade through the smoke with a bit more clarity, even if she couldn't hold her head high.
Hermione made her way drudgingly into her parent's quaint kitchen; her eyes dazing over the letter Ginny had left, sighing wearily as the words burned her already worn eyesight.
Hermione –
Harry and I were really worried about you so we stopped by but you weren't home…
So now Harry and I are really worried about you so do us a favor and owl us back, yes?
Love,
GW
Hermione had scribbled Ginny a quick note back, trying to assure her that she was fine but no one birthed by Molly Weasley ever took 'fine' as an appropriate answer. Before Hermione could even turn away from the parchment, a loud snap sounded the arrival of a rather high brow raised, red headed witch glaring wilding in her general direction.
Just like before, Hermione screamed every night behind his state of slumber and even with that very creature lying in his bed, she screamed still inside his head. Always with the screaming! With her blood curdling cries nearly breaking his bones, and by the time Draco had found a way to silence her, he was awaken with his own shouting, his fingers clutched inside the sheets. Those cerulean depths of his shot wide in his alert state as Draco sat drenched in a fine sheen of sweat covering the lengthy muscles that lined his mostly bare body, and yet, completely alone.
This is exactly what he worried about the moment he'd gotten his Congratulatory Head's letter and realized he would inevitably be sharing a dorm with someone, let alone Granger, but as much as his dreams still plagued his senses, the reasoning behind them, who had weaseled her way into his bed the night prior, was missing in action.
His sight was hazed in the hostile daylight forcing his brain to snap alert much quicker than he normally would have liked after a few drinks and such a late evening but despite all of that still lingering hard on his cells, it didn't stop his from scanning the confines of the room to indeed concur its emptiness for nothing but himself. Bare feet slid to the smoothed planks of wood beneath his feet, tossing the pale sheet from his waist as he lunged upright to that towering height, padding off quickly into the hall.
She wasn't in the bathroom…nor was her clothes. She wasn't in the spare bedroom, in his office, she wasn't anywhere really…and even in the realization that she was gone, just as she said she would be, Draco still scanned the lengthy spaces of his apartment still half expecting her to spring up and shock him for the umpteenth time.
She'd still yet to do just that by the time Draco made his way down the hall and into his living room, his pale face already contorting in a bit of a bitter state when the hard, solid knock at his front door snatched him from his faltering thoughts. It was brief and quick but it was enough to have his feet making a quickened pace to snatch it open from its framed confines. With a sour distaste plastered against him, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs, Draco stood tall glaring out, half expecting, still, that Granger would be standing awkwardly awaiting him on the other side but instead he found himself being greeted with the cold, quirking stare of Blaise Zabini, eyeing him over the bridge of his nose with that dark raven fringe fallen swiftly over his shielded eyes.
Draco, standing with his hand against the door frame, his opposite clutching the door wide but he certainly did not wait for a verbal response from his house mate as he gave a rather audible groan. It was enough of a greeting, for him at least, with Draco's chosen use of dramatic eye roll before he sent his body turning back over his shoulder and retreating back into his apparently empty apartment.
"Well, Malfoy, I'm quite pleased to see you too." Blaise's voice, low and dragging in his somber drawl normally eased Draco's nerves but it was only grating on them currently while the tall man stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Draco's only response was another grunt, tossing his slender digits up to rake through the shorts strands of peroxide blonde, clasping his fingers behind the curve of his head as he made his way for the kitchen. It was the last resort but even before Draco poked his head in through the open doorway, he wasn't surprised to find that alas…still no Granger.
"What pray tell are we looking for, mate?" Draco's hands lowered to his sides; nearly flinching as he cocked his head over his shoulder to notice how close Blaise was standing behind him with his own head peering round Draco's shoulder to scan the vacant room for himself.
"We are not looking for anything…" Irritably and with much fanfare, Draco tossed himself into the room, padding to a small and particular drawer to snatch it open and free the small silver case from inside and into his waiting grip before jutting the drawer closed with the side of his hip. Draco leaned his weight easily back against the counter, crossing his ankle over the other as he flipped the small case open in his waiting palm, pulling a small, thin cigarette free from its hold to slide it in between the part of his lips with a sad sag drifting his head forward.
She'd just left, like she'd told him that she'd had every intention to but he'd honestly thought that maybe…no. He shouldn't have been thinking about this at all. She'd left all of the things she'd claimed she needed so desperately littered in bags amongst his living room to, no doubt, to go running back to her childish boyfriend so he could have another temper tantrum he was sure but why? Draco wasn't sure which part annoyed him more currently…that she'd gone back to him or that he even gave a fuck.
Blaise was eyeing his friend through the fallen lengthy strands of his hair, giving his head a small flick to better access his sullen mode while he swaggered his way to lean across the sink there beside Malfoy, lifting his hand to brush the sheer drapes back along the rod, opening the room in the illuminated glow of the day already rising so bright amongst the hours.
"Ah…it's a who. Well…who were we looking for then?" His voice had picked up so a matter of fact, so affirmative that it had Draco snapping up from his rather slack postured hold to whirl round behind his shoulder before he could finish the words off his lips. He half heartedly snapped his fingers against the tip of his cigarette, drawing in a long line of breath as the embers sprung to life, charring the paper as he took in just what exactly Blaise was staring at, and questioning.
With the cigarette dangling between his lips, Draco huffed out a long line of silver smoke to twist eerily into the room, his sapphire lined hues shifting at the message delicately written in lipstick against the panes of glass staring back at him in all of its oddity.
Secret amongst former enemies? I'm sorry.
It was written in the same deadly shade of crimson that Granger had painted on her lips when he'd seen her a few weeks ago but such a drastic shade had Draco's face paling, his mouth twisting against his trade mark smirk, and his stomach dropping, churning, and flipping all at the same time. It seemed such was always so when it came to Hermione Granger.
Draco could only shake his head with that patented smirk still holding true even as Blaise plucked the cigarette from his mouth, taking a small drag himself before flicking the fluttering ash down into the waiting sink, folding his arms lightly along his chest as he narrowed his eyes in against Draco.
"Let's try this again, Malfoy."
Ginny's hazelnut hues were studying Hermione with quite the comical interest, tilting her head from side to side before nodding approvingly at the affirmation that she was, indeed, alright. Hermione could only stand meekly before her friend there in the side of her parent's kitchen, nervously trying to smooth her still damp hair back into its tie while she tried to place on the best friend welcoming smile she could muster for the time being.
Ginny's smile was much warmer than Hermione's had slid off, marching forward to clasp her hands against Hermione's mildly slumped shoulders, her face holding a light twinge, ready to wince at the worry still harboring behind her light lashes.
"You sure that you're alright? Harry said he'd heard you two fighting most of the night…"
Most of the night? She'd spent most of the night being wrapped up in her own mental escape to be fighting with Ron for the majority but in truth, most of the time they were ever even together anymore, fighting was all they did. Even though Ron was her own flesh and blood, Ginny was still doing her best to be a good friend and it was that truth that pained Hermione to know that she honestly did not deserve it at the moment, especially from a Weasley currently.
"Yes, Gin, really…I'm fine." Hermione gave a small nod, her smile all too ready to falter as she parted her lips to continue but finding the need to shout her sins too strong only had her shutting it quickly once more, turning from Ginny and her comforting hands and moving quickly to the stove, her brows raised as she questioned from over her shoulder, "Tea?"
Ginny didn't look all too convinced but with the mention of tea, her head flopped to the side, clasping her hands in front of her body with the offer, "Yes, please!" Ginny moved through the room easily, watching as Hermione swiftly set a kettle to the stove, busying her hands in attempt to slow her mind. "What was it about this time?"
Hermione sighed, a few unruly strands wavering down before her face while she dropped her hands to the counter on either side of the stovetop, cocking her head round to scrunch her nose at the petite ginger that was jumping and sliding her butt back along her counter to better comfort herself.
"Malfoy."
Ginny scoffed audibly, slapping her knee and shaking her head with a wave of disappointment crossing her pale face, "Why am I not surprised?" Her feet swung lightly where she'd perched herself, clicking her heels along the counter doors below her as she added, "I love him and all, he's my brother, don't get me wrong…but sometimes…"
Up unto twenty four hours ago, Hermione would have exclaimed to her friend how she couldn't understand his constant insanity over the self proclaimed Prince of Slytherin but now all she could do was stand there with the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that perhaps Ronald was right. Well, at least about the part that she should stay far away from Draco Malfoy.
Hermione's tongue was nearly bleeding from the stress of biting it, pulling down a few cups and moving about making their tea, her slender fingers all too unsteady as she attempted to pull free a few stir spoons while Ginny continued on, her hands gripping the ledge of the counter, her chin tipped up to nod her head to and fro as she stared at the ceiling, oblivious to Hermione's damning discomfort.
"Well anyways…I sent Harry to take him to Hogsmede to finish getting the liquor for the party. I figured they could have a little sense talking while we set up and relax without distraction."
Hermione was just pulling the kettle from the stove as Ginny mentioned the party, nearly splashing the tea over the rim of her cup as she whipped her head to her quickly, "Gin, I completely forgot!"
"What?" Ginny's thin brows were scrunching together, lining her brow slightly in her confusion to what she was forgetting exactly as she leaned her head round to her, "You forgot about the party? Come on…" Ginny paused, her mouth pulling to a single side as she took a slow breath in, watching the shock sinking in along her friend as she covered her mouth staring back. "Seriously?"
"Oh my god, Gin…"
"How could you forget that Harry was hosting a back to school party…after everything?"
"I…" Hermione turned quickly back to the counter, hastily pouring Ginny a cup before setting the kettle back a top the stove, moving to hand her the steaming cup with the sad, apologetic tone lacing her words, "I've been so distracted with everything happening with Ron…and going back to Hogwarts."
"And Malfoy." She said it so easy with her brows raised high as she tested her tea with a small sip, cupping her hand over top the rim as she eyed her wearily from above it.
"What?" It was Hermione's turn to look a bit confused, or at least mock it to the best of her ability as she turned to face her once more, cradling her tea in between her hands.
"I mean, you're pretty much stuck with him once we get to school so you've got to be stressing about how Ron's going to act. I know Harry and I are."
"Right." Of course that's all she meant, because there is no way that she could know about last night…right? This wasn't alright. She felt like one big ball of shame and all she wanted to do was feel a bit more normal for once after all these years but things only felt so much worse off.
"What did you do, Malfoy?" Blaise was thoroughly amused but his tone was as flat as it always came.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Hell, Draco wasn't sure he believed any of it right now. It couldn't have been more than a few hours since she'd left his life with the utmost urgency but if he was being honest, he'd be able to admit he was more than a bit anxious to see if she'd reappear once again.
"Why don't you try me." Blaise had fully adopted Malfoy's stance from earlier, propping himself back on the bend of his elbow along the counter, crossing his ankles with his watchful amusement plastered over every inch of his structure, Malfoy's cigarette dangling from the hold of his fingers resting round his side.
"I was looking for Granger." It sounded so foreign coming off of his tongue even to him, his face scrunching in the thought as Blaise drew his own back at the thought. "Yes, the one and only, Hermione Granger." He admitted it like it was the lamest thing that had ever left his lips, confirming it, dull and dry, pursing his lips once they'd made it from his tongue and shaking his head with the distaste it left behind in his mouth.
"No way," Blaise gave a chuckle, ready to continue his chiding until he got his way until he saw how displeased Draco was with the words he'd just spoken, his own face dropping to something more serious, "No shit?"
"I took her out last night."
"I'm sorry, what is happening right now. Have you lost your bleeding mind, Malfoy?" The normally somber expressions of Blaise's face began transforming rather anxiously as his body began to stiffen upright, settling his feet to the ground while Draco moved to toss his elbows down over the surface of the island smack in the center of his kitchen, leaning his weight in against it with the icy glance of silver specked hues staring up to his berating mate.
"Yes…but I assumed that was nothing new between the two of us."
"I knew that you were still pretty fucked up about her but this is just fucked up. You know this is fucked up." Blaise had loamed a few steps closer, his middle and forefinger pointing the burning cigarette outright in warning as he shook it at Draco wearily. "God damnit, Draco…you know!"
Draco's hues were low, unable to watch Blaise's quiet reactions any more for the moment as he shifted to raise himself up onto his palms, standing a bit straighter as he attempted to hold on to a bit of his composure while he stood still half naked being verbally beaten down by the one person he could actually attempt to speak to. Well, at least on this level.
"What was I supposed to do, Blaise? She showed up all…" Draco paused, lifting his hands in the air to weigh the words to describe her sorry appearance without sounding like such an idiot before he gave up and dropped them to his sides, "She was upset. Was I supposed to shut the door in her face?"
"No," Blaise answered him honestly, his own hands laying against the island top as he squared himself off against Malfoy like the table of Able and Cain, staring each other down in the debate, "but you weren't supposed to fuck her!"
"I didn't fuck her." Draco voice growled at the back of his throat, his lips curling a bit in the bare of his teeth before he bitterly confessed, "She came over, we talked for awhile, went out for a bit, she stayed the night…and as you can see, she is gone."
"Oh so fucked up." Blaise leaned his head back, the dark strands of his hair sliding from his vision as he shook his head, lifting the cigarette to draw in a hard breath of smoke, trying to find the words to express his thoughts currently. Blaise's chest deflated heavily with his long sigh twisting smoke off into the beckoning room as he turned his darkened eyes back to Draco as he attempted once again, "Listen, Malfoy. I know that you want to fix things because you didn't then but you can't. You were already teetering on the edge of banishment from the entire wizarding world…do you really think this is going to help? Now? Seriously, Draco…"
"I could have done something and I didn't and you know it, Zabini."
"No, you couldn't have. Because had you done a blasted thing, dear old aunty would have cut her to pieces just to enjoy watching you break into the mad man they'd always dreamed you to be."
Draco didn't have the words for him at the moment to express his anger but it was rising rather quickly to a place he certainly didn't want to be at. His hands shoved harshly from against the hold of the island, tossing himself back into the open room of the kitchen as Blaise raised his hand in a mild defense to the steam threatening to rise from Draco as he began to pace.
"I thought when you saved her arse that you'd be done with this shit. You wanting her is fucked up, Draco. It's like a mediwitch being in love with their patient…"
"I am not in love with her, Zabini, and how is that even close to this situation?" Draco had managed to stop pacing long enough to narrow his displeased scowl down against Blaise, his arms folding tightly against the broad span of his chest.
"I don't know, it just is." There weren't many times Draco had truthfully seen his friend loose his so carefully suave composure so animatedly and the stress of it was beginning to weigh all too seriously upon him but the fact of the matter was that Blaise Zabini had stood by his side through every error, fuck up, fight, and screw up that Malfoy had made since the day they'd locked friendship. Through it all, had Draco not had the man nearing his breaking point before him, he wasn't sure if he would have opted to go through with operation: go back to Hogwarts with your tail between your legs. Yes, Draco still had a few acquaintances but he couldn't afford to keep many after it all and most didn't want to risk the association so he'd already prepared himself for quite a lonesome year. After all, despite his better efforts to right his wrong doings and fight the good fight alongside Potter, most felt his attempts were too little too late and his damning actions were too horrid to forget. That was not to mention his own house mates who couldn't stand the very sight of someone who could turn his back on his own family and his own kind. Draco knew that in the dark corner of his life where he stood, the only creatures guarding his back stood the man before him and Miss. Pansy Parkinson. The rest revolved as they may but apart from them, who did Draco truthfully have to disappoint anymore?
With a painfully slow movement, Blaise lowered his head down, sliding the length of his fingers back through the silken strands only for them to slip back into the messy grace of tendrils fallen across his face. His irritable posture shrugged lowly from his shoulders, his hand resting to the slender fold of his hip as her cleared his throat for a bit more clarity, handing to cigarette back to Draco with his opposite, "Seriously? You seriously want to do this?"
"What do I really have to lose?" Draco had either foot on the ground, his hands out held as he stood before his friend, his head lightly shaken with the shrug of his own shoulders before he gladly accepted the thin stick, placing it between his lips to take his own drag along it.
"She is with Weasley." It wasn't stated nearly as harshly as Draco had expected. He said it like it was just some statement about the weather, simply and slow, moving to slide his own arms in a fold over his chest, his thin dark brows raising in silent question beneath the heavy fall of his hair.
Draco's hands dropped to his side, his head cocking with a sharp tilt, narrowing his cerulean depths into thin slits with the thin line of his lips pursing tightly together at a single side of his mouth, only his words dulling to part them, "When have I ever given a fuck about Weasley?"
"Yes well she…" Blaise moved to untuck his hand, pointing a finger to the offending words sharply contrasted back to them in the daylight hours there against his window, "gives a fuck about Weasley, I'm afraid." Blaise was shaking his head insistently, the disbelief still a bit overwhelming for him as he moved to refold his arms once again, watching as his friend made no motion of remorse for the nearly betrothed couples happiness.
What could he do? Draco had been screwed up in the head over Granger for longer than Blaise wanted to remember and despite his hopes that he would mature past his strange obsession after his attempts to risk his own neck to save the girl during the bloodiest battle the wizarding world had ever seen, both Blaise and Pansy both feared that by returning to Hogwarts, by being nearly chained to her in such a close proximity, that there would be far worse of a problem then they'd imagined, especially when Malfoy kept on with his insistent dreams of remorse and regret.
"Well fuck your life, Malfoy." Blaise gave one last shake of his head, starting to feel dizzy between that and the conversation, giving it a small toss back with a light twinge starting to tug at the corner of his lips, "I really hoped I wouldn't live to see the day."
"Yes, well…"It was all he could manage out, his brows cocked in his own disappointment for himself, his hands lightly clasped at his hips as he shrugged once more, his cigarette threatening to spill the charred ash to the floor below them as it dangled between his loose fingers hold.
"Well, alright then." Blaise pressed his lips together under his smile and slid his hand into the comfortably tucked away pocket resting on the inside breast of his jack, folding his chin in to eye the folded piece of parchment hidden inside. "I had intended to see if you felt like crashing a good time and getting blitzed tonight…" Draco remained silent as Blaise moved to unfold the rough edged paper, straightening it in his grasp before he moved to lay it flat on the island, turning it with a twist of his wrist and sliding what appeared to be a torn article from The Daily Prophet a bit closer to Malfoy's line of sight.
There in black and white was a delicately fluffed article about Potter's reunion bash, of course, courtesy of Wonder Boy and being thrown with the efforts of the entire trio no doubt. Draco scoffed at the image of Potter clomping out of the front of a rather large venue, pulling up his cloak hood and shielding away from the flashing camera bulbs dancing behind him as he rented the space that the author of the article was all too happy to gawk and exclaim dreamily about. Draco drug the top of his tongue over the roof of his mouth, ready to vomit as he skimmed through the words when Blaise dropped his hand beside the page, leaning forward in his stance to tilt his head down to Draco's rising face as he finished on, "…but shall I assume that we are to be going to get the girl instead?"
Draco said nothing, propping his chin on the top of his fist while his lips twisted at the edges against his grin, Blaise's face far less excited as he attempted to question his friend once more, "Can we still get blitzed at least?"
"Absolutely tanked. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need it." With a scoff and a rather affirmative nod, Blaise pressed his hair back from his face for the hundredth time since he'd walked through the door.
"I'm pretty sure we're all going to need it."
An entire pot of tea later and Hermione had finally managed to convince the all too knowingly Ginny Weasley that she would indeed live another day and that she was plenty capable of pulling herself together to do as she promised and get the party in working orders. Whether she was in the party mood or not, Hermione had made a promise and Ginny had truthfully looked downright offended that she could forget something that meant so much to Harry. Well, that and she was sure Ginny wasn't quite as savvy around decorating spells as she would have liked to be and the thought of something for Harry not being perfect would only turn her into a tearful, balling mess sobbing in the corner by the time the guests arrived.
It was nice to be with Ginny for the afternoon. It was a pleasant distraction for the most part, even if the heavy thoughts were scraping at her insides apart beneath the surface. Once Ginny was finally satisfied with Hermione's carefully masked state, they'd aparated straight to the large bar that Harry had rented out to get started on the work ahead of them and boy did they have their work cut out for them.
For nearly three straight hours, Ginny and Hermione scrubbed every nook and cranny of the bar that looked like it had the dirt swept under the rugs for the last twenty years before they could even begin the lengthy decorating process. By the time the ceiling sparkled to the floor, the bar to the windows, the two of them were too exhausted to even think about helping host a party in another eight hours but somehow they'd managed to muster enough energy to pull it together to get the job done.
Harry specifically wanted everything black and white as not to show prejudice to any house, trying to put forth his best face but Hermione suspected that that was an easy thing to do when you stood at the throne of the triumphant team, even if none of them truly felt like they'd won much in the end. They'd lined the ceiling in varying sizes of white and black sparkled paper lanterns all aglow in quite a beautiful array of lights dancing above the entirety of the bar. Black velvet drapes and sheer white fabric lined the walls in large panels, trailing down to the littering of pearl and midnight balloons lining the walls from corner to corner, climbing up and drifting softly amongst them. White Roses and Black Dahlias sprung from the vases amongst the tables, scattered around alternating table cloths and chair covers. They'd ensured everything was prepared down to the cups being used and the trays they would be carried on. By the end of it all, Hermione was not only patting herself on the back but reconsidering looking into the field of decorating with her skills broadcasting back around her.
It took her a good ten minutes to convince Ginny to take off to start preparing for the party and considering it was already past seven thirty by the time Hermione had managed to wrap everything up and finish putting the finishing touches on things, she was glad she did. Hermione had less than an hour to be dressed and ready to fake a smile through the night of familiar and haunting faces of the past and near future so she wasted no time aparating quickly back to her parent's home to start the process she'd seriously have to downsize in such a time crunching limit. It truly was a tedious process to prepare oneself for such an event, not to mention doing so while you felt as though your heart was shattering for all the wrong reasons and it seemed that upon arriving home, Hermione would only find more tugging anxiety lurking in the darkness.
The smoke had just barely finished twisting off of her small frame before she went to run the length of the hall in efforts to toss herself into the bathroom but the littering of bags deposited amongst the kitchen floor nearly sent her crashing to the tile below her. Her steps faltered easily, tripping over one plastic bag and dodging the next before she'd managed to make herself feel like king kong and stomped her way through the other end of the city of tissue papers and shiny bags.
"Mother of God!" Hermione clasped her hand over her chest, panting hard in astonishment as she turned to face the pile of offending, not to mention nearly deadly, items staring back at her. Those chocolate orbs narrowed softly, widening as it hit her like a ton of bricks: They were her bags. Malfoy must have sent them…he had to of sent them. Oh Merlin. Again, Hermione felt her pulse quicken, sharply turning her head to each corner of the room to ensure no other surprises jumped out at her when the post against her sill caught her eye. She couldn't move her feet faster to snatch the two letters free, scrambling to open both as quickly as she could from their envelopes, letting them crumple to the floor as she harshly rushed her fingers to unravel the bent paper.
She felt like she would have an anxiety attack, eyeing the bags from the corner of her eye like a monster ready to transform as she took in the first letter shaking unsteadily in her hands.
Mione-
I'm really sorry about last night. I hope you'll forgive me and still be my date tonight?
I'll meet you there at 9.
XO RW
Hermione let out a battered sigh, lowering her hands, letter and all down to her lap. She didn't know why but Ron's letter made her feel a bit more at ease even if nothing had truly been resolved. In honesty, this was usually the way it worked with Ron. He'd get angry, sometimes a bit hostile, and after he'd cool off, he'd apologize and act like nothing ever happened until the next thing triggered his temper to flare. For some reason just hearing the part that he was ready to forget, even if she could just make it a couple of hours, would be better than nothing because after everything in the last two days, she wasn't sure how much more she could handle.
Hermione drew her lip in against her teeth, chewing it softly as she plucked the second letter in front of the first, lifting it back before her face with a bit less apprehension plaguing her.
Let the hunt begin.
FE
Hermione was already standing still but suddenly she felt truly frozen in her stance, clutching the letter with her eyes dragging over each line of letter to feel them burning inside her skull. What the hell was this? It was a feeling that Hermione hadn't felt in a while, backing herself up against the counter, scanning the room for the millionth time to ensure her safety and quick exits. The hunt? What hunt?
The letter slid from her hand as she tossed it up to smack over her heart as the words flooded back to her.
"I'll be gone in the morning." Hermione's lashes fluttered against his bare chest as she closed her eyes, flattening her fingers with a soft adjustment comfortably against him.
"I'll hunt you down, Granger." Draco's voice was low and rough at the back of his throat, his sleep deprived day finally catching the better of him but he could still feel her mouth smile against his skin.
This wasn't good. Why couldn't he just drop it like she'd expected him to do? Why couldn't he be the cold, thoughtless, cruel, Prince of hate and all things malicious that she was used to? Hermione couldn't help pacing a bit as she clutched the rapid beating in her chest. She knew Malfoy had owled her the letter but why the signage 'F.E.'? Why would he…
"A secret amongst former enemies…" her lips could barely let the words roll off as the light bulb clicked behind bright eyes with a light smile playing a small ghost of a tune against her full lips, threatening to give her away to herself but Hermione didn't have time for any more debating thoughts.
Even in the short span of time, she set to fully tackle her challenge to leave no spot of her appearance go unnoted. Hermione's unruly hair had long sense been tamed into much softer curls to fit her maturing pace and now was no exception. The long, caramel tinted strands waved elegantly down the length of her face to brush off in soft twisting curls down the center of her bare back. Her eyes smoldered in a heated gray, a light bronze accentuating the delicate lines of her face to the soft pout of pink dancing along the swell of her lips.
She had felt completely wrong taking the things that Malfoy refused to let her pay for and despite the fact that she truly hadn't wanted to find herself back on her knees wishing herself back into the impending downfall that was just ticking to blow up in the distance, she still opted to wear one of the dresses that he'd taken the time to owl over. The second Hermione saw the dress last night, she felt herself want to drool, and having the opportunity to wear it out was just too much to pass up. If she was going to have to live through this night, she might as well feel a little good doing it, no?
It was a smooth pale gray satin that hugged against the petite curves of her frame, stretching from shoulder to shoulder in a delicate scoop to disappear in a curve low against the back of her hips to expose the length of her spine to the night. Silver speckled lace overlaid perfectly against it, stretching down the length of her arms from the slender bend of her wrist to the bottom of the dress cut to rest against the center of her thigh. Hermione ran her hands down the smooth, sleek fabric of her new dress, unable to hide her own satisfied smirk. She did, indeed, feel good, for the first time since before she'd woken up in Malfoy's bed.
Hermione shifted her weight, her long, shapely legs stretching to climb inside the pair of shoes Draco had insisted would match perfectly. Naturally, they were silver and gray, and despite that being a cop out to say they match and that he has a fashion sense, Malfoy had been right. The material almost appeared to be lace but she knew it simply couldn't be, hugging the high heeled ankle boot, exposing her toes and resting with a small silver sating bow to tie just above her Achilles tendons at the back of her ankles. Hermione quickly grabbed her clutch, brushing her hair from her shoulders and tugging the material of her dress into a suitable position before she could shimmy appropriately in front of the mirror to take in the picture that would be Hermione Granger for the evening.
"He's going to like that…"
Hermione eyed the body in the mirror staring back at her, turning slightly this way or that to watch the dress bend with her body as she mocked a few actions in the night to ensure she wouldn't go flashing anyone, snapping her eyes up to herself at the spouting of words.
"I've heard just about enough out of you tonight." Dressed like a goddess or not, Hermione stuck her tongue out at her own face, not bothering to watch herself feign shock as she stomped from the room rather childishly, her heels clanking coldly on the ground in her efforts to track down her cloak.
With another stumbling attempt, this time in near stilts, Hermione scrambled her way past the chaos of clothes tossed now atop the bags they'd arrived in, barely teetering to snatch her cloak from the back of the chair and toss it across her arm without spilling into a pile of lace and hair. The dark black fabric tossed easily along the bend of her forearm, cursing loudly at the clock staring back at her from a crossed the room.
It was already eight thirty. She'd already missed a half an hour of the party and left Harry and Ginny to begin the festivities without her. Surely Ginny would understand she needed a moment to prepare though and she still had a half an hour until Ron said he was due to arrive. Everyone would be expecting her by now, but, they'd also be expecting her to arrive with Ron…Well, if Ginny wouldn't forgive her for taking far too long to prepare herself into the stunning creature she was radiating to be tonight, she surely would forgive her for going to make up with Ron and bringing a happy couple to the party versus the bickering, feuding duo they usually tend to be, right?
With a determined smile, Hermione closed her eyes tight, holding her clutch close and aparating herself straight to the Weasley manor. Somehow she found it easier to run with her tail between her legs knowing the mood Ron was in considering his letter but Hermione still felt a horrible loaming ball of anticipation twisting in the pit of her stomach when she'd popped inside the small, cramped foyer at the bottom of the long twisting staircase in the center of the Weasley house. Her will was true, but her conscious was guilty as Hermione swallowed her pride and moved to bring herself up to the riser of the battered steps, chewing nervously on her bottom lip the entire way.
*I just wanted to say a special thanks to everyone who is following this story and to all of you who have reviewed it! It is definitely keeping me motivated and keeping me inspired to keep it going. I've got big wicked plans for our little chars but I'll apologize for any OOC-ness now. What can I say? They're too much fun not to poke around a little bit. XD
Next chapter will be up soon, promise.