LightofEvolution: Synonym = Awesome Beta.
It's been a couple of days, at least from Hermione's perspective, that she tried her hand at approaching Baker. Today, she decides, she will go to both Harry and Draco: Harry to appeal for an audience with The Time Lord and Draco to ask him, once more, for access to his library.
At 7:15, she approaches Draco's office with a take away tray of coffee, enough for both of them plus Harry. "Malfoy?" She calls to him just as he's about to reach his door, and he turns to see her approach from the west hall.
"Granger? You're early."
She stops just out of reach, not wanting to intrude on the personal space of this less personable Malfoy, and offers up the coffee. "That one's for you, if you like. The one with the red straw."
He hesitates and eyes her warily, finally taking the cup and muttering, "Thanks."
"Could I ask you to come with me to see Harry? I have a situation I need to discuss and I'd really like your input." She's aware that's a slightly misleading way to start the conversation but she really doesn't want to explain this twice. Keeping it casual and appealing to his work ethic seems like an efficient way to go.
"You, Hermione Granger, want my input? That's new," he grouses.
"I am capable of asking for help and opinions elsewhere," she says haughtily and immediately knows this is how it always starts. Draco's observation that she doesn't tend to want his opinion is actually a fair one, if she would acknowledge it.
"That's not what Weasley says," he goads.
"Well, certainly, if you are taking notes from Ronald, of all people. I didn't ask his opinion on anything because, unless it involved food, he generally didn't have one."
He laughs at that and Hermione grins, hoping a little mutual Ron-bashing might help push them back to friendly terms. She feels a little guilt about it, but seeing his grey eyes twinkle makes it easy to almost forget why. Though, honestly, she should probably make an effort to patch up her friendship with Ron, once all of this is over.
She goes on, as sincerely as she can. "Malfoy, I really do need help. Please come with me?" She never would have been so open, so vulnerable with Malfoy before, fearing he would only use it against her, but she's seen now that he is not without compassion.
Besides, if he's a prat, she can just take it out on him later. It's not like he'll remember it. Trial and error, this is.
He studies her before nodding. "Sure. Let me drop my robes and grab a parchment for notes."
She's feels like a silly little girl when his studiousness makes him seem even more appealing. Malfoy being appealing is not the goal today.
He re-emerges from his office and they continue together down the corridor to Harry's office. The door is still open. Harry doesn't tend to close it until the halls are bustling. At this time of the morning, there's very little noise to distract, what with the building being virtually silent.
Hermione lands a firm but soft knock on the frame of her friend's door, hoping not to startle him. He already looks deep into thought and is scribbling furiously on parchment.
"Hey," he greets casually. "I was just writing you two. I'm afraid I have to-"
"Cancel lunch," Hermione finishes in concert with him, and he gives her an odd look.
"Yes actually. It's just, I'm-"
"Too behind," she parrots with him again and then takes over the conversation. "We need to talk. Draco, have a seat. I'll get the door."
He gives her a strange look at being ordered around, probably in particular since it's not her office, but Hermione is too busy closing the door and casting privacy wards to explain herself.
She turns to find her partner still standing and Harry has risen as well. Her friend looks concerned. "Is everything alright, Hermione?"
"No. No I'm afraid it's a bit of a challenge," she says, knowing that's an understatement. "Here." She lifts the take away tray toward him. "I brought you a Chai tea latte."
Draco snorts. "Chai, Potter? That your poncy drink of choice, is it?"
Harry starts to say something, defend his choice she's sure, but Hermione smirks, tilting her head in reference to his cup, and says, "Mocha caramel cappuccino with low fat cream?" as if that says everything that needs to be said.
Perhaps it does since Harry looks triumphant and Draco's cheeks are a light rose. He's cute when he's uncomfortable. Hermione chastises herself for the observation.
Hermione takes a seat and looks up at the two men still standing. "You may as well settle in." They both sit and she pulls the last cup from the tray and takes a drink before starting in with no preamble to her story.
"I seem to be caught in a time loop. I've told you both this before in fact. This marks the tenth time I've lived this Monday. Draco, you and I have been researching time magic at the manor for a few days and, Harry," she looks back at the man in question, "I've asked you to get me in to see Baker. All of this started after my scuffle with the Turner he supposedly repaired. He must have… done it wrong I suppose. I'd like to request you try again. A little more forcefully, if possible."
She turns to Draco who is looking at her mouth agape. "Malfoy-"
"I fucking told you not to touch that, Granger," he says and his tone has some bite. She winces, trying to let it go, slowly learning that his civility, or lack thereof, is a reaction to her own.
It's in her court. It will always be in her court until she breaks this cycle. He doesn't know they could be friendly and she has no doubt he's expecting her to bite right back. So instead, she watches his double take when she concedes, "I know. I think it might go without saying you were right. You've been great so far though and I appreciate it." She continues with what she had intended to say before. "I was hoping that while Harry worked on the appeal, you and I could go back to the manor? We need to start research on anything relating to time magic published since nineteen forty seven."
Maybe it's her sincerity but he doesn't hesitate much. "I… sure. Alright, Granger, let's go." He's already up and grabbing his cup, giving a nod to Harry.
"I'll do what I can on this end, Hermione," her friend says as she also starts to take her leave. "I can hardly believe this."
She smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry. I know it's not how you wanted to spend a Monday. Just do what you can, alright?"
They say their farewells and Hermione is following Draco to the floo network. "You just attract danger, don't you," he quips, looking steadfastly ahead.
She grins a little and replies, "That's not the first time you've accused me of that, Draco."
He seems to start with her continued use of his name, and it's no wonder. She's much more comfortable with him than he is with her. "I have an idea for lunch," she says conversationally. "There's a muggle bakery…they have sandwiches and such, but also, fantastic shortbread. If we get there early, they might even have chocolate. I know that's your favourite."
She watches his face and he looks down with a raised brow. "I assume I shared that little tidbit with you on another Monday?"
"It's almost as good as what Pipsy brings to the library," she says back, ignoring the questions but implying the answer.
It's slow to start but then there it is: That smile of his that could alight a witch's heart. "I feel you have me at a disadvantage."
She grins back, sincere, but with this little touch of Cheshire mischief. "I promise I won't exploit it too much."
And just like that, day 10 is their best day so far.
Mid-century turns out to be a huge endeavor. They break for lunch and still have four more tomes to trudge through when they return to get into the early twentieth century. Lunch conversation is friendly enough, Hermione thinks. He is slowly warming to her during the meal, as he has slowly warmed each day they've spent together. By the end, he is swiping the last shortbread off their shared tray and she is giggling as he stuffs the whole thing in his mouth just to keep it for himself.
"I'm an only child, Granger, I don't share well."
Picking up his almost empty glass of tea and thieving his last swig, she answers with a grin, "Me too."
They return to quietly studying, Harry interrupting at some point to let them know he has not secured an interview with Baker, and speak very little until they see the end of their current time period. Hermione feels it's a Merlin-be-damned blessing to finally pick up the first in the stack published as of 1919.
"The Gamble of Questionable Magic: Why Time is Best Left to its Course," Hermione reads aloud.
"Sounds promising," Draco says, looking up from the last few pages of 'Freedom in Casting', a book about the use of Dark Arts as a viable path forward. "This one doesn't have much. A quick mention of Time Turners mostly in reference to the harm they could cause in relation to Dark magic."
She snorts in agreement with the book. "Well, that's not wrong."
Laying the book to the side, he levels her with a serious look. "I really can't believe this happened," he begins. "How many times on this Monday have I told you how right I was?"
Hermione sighs and rolls her eyes. "A couple," she admits. "Though not as much as you could, I will say. You've been mostly pleasant; only throwing this in my face…," she pretends to think back, grinning and ticking off her fingers, "once or twice."
"I knew I was wonderful," he smirks, "but I can't believe know-it-all Hermione Granger is admitting she was wrong."
It's the kind of comment he has always made but suddenly he doesn't seem like so much of a prick. Maybe it's that little glimmer in his eye. Was it always there? Had she just not noticed how much of his banter is teasing rather than vitriol?
"You know, I've meant to ask you," she says, thinking suddenly of her initial reluctance to visit the manor, "I've yet to see your parents when we've been here. I was… nervous. A little. The first time we came."
He shrugs. "They mostly stay to their wing. I have formal dinners with them on Fridays and Wednesdays. Most of which consists of my mother trying to set me up on chaperoned dates and my father asking how long I plan to 'mess about with this Auror business' and get more involved at Malfoy Industries."
He's being uncharacteristically open but not for the first time. This Draco is just so… nice. When she finally breaks this loop she's going to really enjoy starting Tuesday with such an engaging partner.
"Have you no interest in the family business?" She asks politely. She doesn't want to pry but if he's in the mood to share, she's certainly happy to learn more about him.
"It's his business, really. House arrest or not, he's still the CEO and the company does very well. Maybe when he's closer to retirement… Regardless, I'm happy with my career."
"You don't have to answer," she says carefully, "but why did you become an Auror? It's a hard job… and somewhat thankless…"
"Oh to meet witches of course," he deadpans. It takes her a moment before she realizes he's joking and chuckles just as he allows himself a grin. It seems very well like a deflection, probably to keep his reasons close to his chest, and she allows him the privacy.
"How is that working out for you?"
"Well, it's mostly wizards in the department. My secretary seems interested." Hermione tries to hide the grimace she feels. It's been some days since he flirted openly with that simpering Bernice girl.
She's not sure if he reads her expression but something in him changes course. "She's not my type though; a bit desperate. I like a witch with a lot more backbone."
A streak of boldness jolts up her spine and Hermione picks up the banter, much more forward than she thought herself capable. Then again, it's not as if he'll remember. Plus, her mind wanders back to that kiss and, suddenly, leading them back there is somewhat appealing.
"Are there no other witches then? In your whole department, not one other you can imagine?" She looks at him with significance and gives him a little smirk of her own.
"Well… there's one," he says slowly. "Though I'm not entirely sure she's on the market for someone like me."
They are both aware he means her and she places her book to the side. She adjusts herself on the sofa to turn toward him, tucking her feet beneath her. "I can't imagine there are many witches not interested in someone like you. I mean… once they get past that pratty exterior."
He laughs and she laughs with him. "Are you always this fun?" He asks openly. "All these Mondays we spend together?"
"Well," she hedges, tucking a curl behind her ear, "not every day I suppose. Though there was that... that time I kissed you."
That has his attention and suddenly this isn't just silly or funny or entertaining anymore. Suddenly he looks quite intrigued.
"Did you now?" He asks softly. "What prompted that?"
Should she tell him? Should she admit she only wanted to prove a point and stick it to those biddies who had the audacity to pity her and judge him?
Fuck it. She'll go with a different story, but no less true. "I find I am quite enjoying our time together. I… I'm not sure I'd pass up the opportunity if it came around again." She bites down on her lower lip and shifts her weight to close the distance between them.
Turning himself as well, Draco notes, "It seems the opportunity is coming around for you indefinitely then." He pauses and then asks, "How many times?"
"How many times?..."
"Have we kissed," he finishes, clarifying the question and leaning closer.
"Oh," she breathes. "Only once."
"Seems unfair," he observes, "that you remember it and I don't. How do I even know it happened?"
"I suppose you'll have to trust me," she nearly whispers back.
Suddenly he's right there, almost close enough to touch… to taste... and he's asking lowly, "What was it like?"
She stifles a groan at the invitation in his voice and closes the distance, answering, "Bloody amazing." Hermione pillows his lip with hers and flicks her tongue against the seam of his mouth.
It's no time before he has her lain before him, covering her body with his and pressing her into the soft cushions beneath them. The kiss is urgent within moments and she tastes his lips and his tongue and she whimpers when his hand travels into her curls and pulls lightly to tilt her chin back. Draco explores her neck, nuzzling with his aristocratic nose as he goes. He runs a line through the hollow of her throat with his tongue. With a curse, a muttered, "Fucking Salazar," he is back to her mouth as his hands sneak beneath her shirt and caress her skin like velvet.
For the first time in ages, definitely since this time loop began, but probably much before that, Hermione just lets go. She's not been with anyone since things ended with Ron a few weeks ago and, before that, was only a couple of dalliances in her formative years. This isn't anything like any of that. Experiences with Ron were exploratory in the beginning, being so many firsts for one another. Eventually it was just comfortable; familiarity in its best and worst forms.
Draco is somehow demanding and hesitant. There is passion here, probably in part due to years of undeniable tension. Tension that was once animosity, grown sexual very quickly. When did that even start? New York? Before? Today? She can't deny she's been growing fond of him the last few days, but for him they've only just returned from New York. She has trouble believing he had a complete change of heart because of one civil day in a library. Perhaps he already felt some attraction to her...
But all that is taking too much thought ,and now he's brushing his thumb over the lace-covered peak of her breast and grinding his hardened length against the apex of her thighs. Things have escalated fast and it's the most intense feeling of her entire life.
Until he stops and pulls himself up to stare down at her, his cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. "I think," he begins and licks his lips, "I think we should probably stop."
She's not proud that she whimpers like a pouting child at that. He doesn't seem too turned off by it and leans in to nip one last time at her bottom lip. "I refuse to forget this... to risk that," he explains. "I'm having a really fucking good time and I have a feeling this would be amazing."
She smiles up at him, petting the short hair at the nape of his neck. "Selfishly, I wouldn't forget. Are you sure? A little instant gratification never hurt anyone…"
He laughs, but sits up and, like the gentleman he is, offers a hand to help her as well. "Tuesday, Granger. You're mine next Tuesday."
Hermione, still trying to slow her breathing, pats her mussed hair as she responds. "Is that a promise?"
Draco grabs her book, tossing it into her lap and then pulls her against him so her back rests against his chest. "Absolutely," he agrees, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing his own book on the arm of the sofa, keeping her tucked against him so they can read. "You better not let me forget this," he warns. "I'm trying to do the right thing here but, Merlin, I'm already regretting it." He runs his hand softly up her arm to make his point and then turns her head with fingertips on her jaw.
A soft kiss and then, "I'll make sure your sacrifice is rewarded," she says with a little cheek.
She barely hears him mumble, "You better," and grins to herself as they tuck back in to their books.
Hours later, both exhausted, they seem to realize at the same time that their day is over. Draco walks her to the floo in silence and kisses her softly once they reach it. "Remember your promise, Granger."
She nods and says she will see him tomorrow but as always, knows it isn't really true. For the first time she notices something in his expression that tells her he knows it too.
The Dramione ship is setting sail for deeper waters :) I'm so happy that so many of you seemed to really enjoy chapter 8. It's such an important chapter for Hermione and how she views Draco. Thank you all so, so much for your reviews! I hope you liked this one as well!
