Chapter 9
Hermione groaned when her alarm began to shriek at her, telling her it was time to get up and she glanced at the evil device, wondering whether or not she'd be able to destroy with the power of will alone. Her head began to ache at the sound of the high pitched beeping and before things could get worse, Hermione reached over, clobbering the poor clock with a solid hit right to the desist button.
She was severely hungover and felt like she would very much like to bury herself under a mountain of blankets for the rest of the day. Foolishly, she'd let Malfoy talk her into getting particularly drunk the previous night at dinner with Ginny and Blaise and when she'd come home she'd remembered that she had promised she would have the Guest List for the weddings prepared for today's shopping trip. Instead of coming home and falling into her shower and then into bed, she'd had to sit up half the night as she slowly sobered up whilst weeding out all the doubled-up names on the extensive list of guests that would be invited to attend their group wedding.
Hermione didn't even want to think about the idea of getting out of bed and she'd purposely set her alarm for ten o'clock, even though they were all supposed to meet at Diagon Alley at eleven. She knew subconsciously that she needed to get up and take another shower before sweet-talking Ginny into making a stop at the café down the road from their flat so that she could grab herself a strawberry milkshake and a bacon sandwich – her usual hang-over cure – but the idea made her want to cry.
She really didn't want to spend the whole day dealing with several people that she wasn't fond of and the idea of doing so whilst trying on wedding dresses alongside a no doubt equally hung-over Ginny, as well as people like bloody Parkinson had Hermione considering how much it would hurt to scoop her eyeballs out with a spoon. She lay there in bed staring at the ceiling as she mused about the idea, weighing the options.
As much as she wanted to stay in bed, Hermione knew she needed to get up and prepare herself for a day that would no doubt be tedious and exhausting. She didn't at all fancy the idea of even speaking to anyone and the concept of having to see Malfoy again so soon made Hermione want to cry a little bit. She also felt like she wanted to vomit but she couldn't tell if that was due to the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed alongside Ginny, Zabini and Malfoy last night or if it had to do with the fact that she was fairly certain she'd been dreaming about Malfoy before her alarm had woken her.
Groaning some more as she rolled herself out of bed and waited for the world to stop spinning, Hermione didn't even bother with searching for her bath robe or finding pants. Instead she stumbled down the hall to the bathroom, her stomach rolling when she caught the scent of Ginny brewing coffee in the kitchen.
Just as she reached the doorway to the bathroom, Hermione walked headfirst into someone who did not feel like Ginny and she gasped in surprise before pausing to stare into the face of whoever it was that was invading her bathroom.
"Argh!" Hermione screamed when she looked up into the hung-over face of Draco Malfoy.
"Don't scream," Malfoy groaned, covering his ears and glaring at her. Hermione regretted it immediately when her head began to throb as though someone had taken to her with the Whomping Willow while she'd been asleep.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione snapped, scowling up at Malfoy before noticing that he was standing in the door way to her bathroom shirtless, "And why are you half naked?"
"Because you're wearing my shirt," Malfoy replied, pointing indicatively at her torso.
Hermione glanced down at herself and blanched when she realised it was true. She wore nothing but an oversized black button-up shirt and her boy-leg knickers, a fact Malfoy seemed to be taking advantage of as his eyes travelled over her bare legs.
"Why?" Hermione groaned, holding onto her head and glaring at him, trying to understand how this could possibly have happened. Surely she hadn't gotten so drunk that she'd slept with him and didn't remember it?
"What are you even doing here Malfoy?" Hermione asked him, trying to focus on not vomiting.
"I'm guessing you don't remember that after dinner - where we got particularly sloshed – the four of us proceeded to walk across London to the Leaky Cauldron, where we invested in a few bottles of firewhiskey and butterbeer before returning here?" Malfoy asked her.
"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned, closing her eyes, realising she had no memory of any of that. "And what? You just stayed over?"
"My injection effects hadn't worn off yet," Malfoy replied.
"Oh gods…. Tell me we didn't have sex last night," Hermione begged, peering up into his face and noticing the fact that his blonde hair was incredibly sleep mussed.
"We didn't have sex. You went nuts when you spotted the pile of letters from everyone who sent their guest list to you while we were all out getting drunk and refused to leave the table until you finished it. I'm fairly certain I tried to pick you up and carry you to your bed when you fell out of your chair, but you went berserk."
"Then why am I wearing your shirt?" Hermione asked him before peeking down the front of her shirt and cringing as she added in a panic, "And nothing but knickers underneath?"
"I have no idea. I guess you picked it up off the floor when you came to bed," Malfoy told her.
"Why was your shirt on my floor and accessible to me when I went to bed?" Hermione demanded, feeling like there were six elephants tap dancing on her head.
"Weaselette made Blaise sleep on the couch," Malfoy shrugged, "And I had to sleep somewhere."
"You slept in my bed last night?" Hermione gasped, horror-stricken.
"You squeak in your sleep like a lost kitten," Malfoy informed her nonchalantly. Hermione felt her cheeks flame crimson.
"Do you have your wand on you?" Hermione asked him seriously.
"Of course…. Why?" He asked looking suspicious.
"Kill me please," Hermione instructed. Malfoy chuckled.
"If I try I'll end up in St. Mungo's on my deathbed…. What the hell happened to your hair?"
"What's wrong with my hair?" Hermione asked, befuddled as she reached up. She cringed the minute she touched the out-of-control mess on top of her head, "Oh no."
"Seriously, is it always like this naturally?" he asked her and Hermione flinched away from him when he reached up and buried his hand in the mass of frizz and curls.
"Don't," Hermione warned too late when the giant mess took on a mind of it's own, tangling around his fingers and wrist.
"Did your hair just grab me?" he asked, tugging gently as he tried to get free, looking mildly concerned.
"I told you not to touch it," Hermione said, reaching up and grabbing his wrist, snarling under her breath when the strands snagged and knotted around him while she tried to pry his hand free.
"Can this day get any worse?" Hermione grumbled as she finally managed to loosen her hair's grip on her fiancé.
"You're forgetting that we're supposed to go shopping for wedding garb," Malfoy told her, still looking amused and morbidly fascinated by her out of control hair and grumpy demeanour.
"Why are you being so creepy?" Hermione demanded, losing patience with him as her head throbbed again.
"Creepy?"
"Yes, Malfoy creepy. You're being creepy. We don't like each other remember. Just yesterday you were all for being awful to one another. Why are you smiling at me like that?"
"I tried to warn you about what would happen with my werewolf genetics racing around inside you," he told her, looking amused.
"What did it do? Make you fall in love with me overnight?" Hermione scowled.
"Don't be thick," Malfoy told her, "I still think you're insufferable."
"Then why are you in my house? Why did you sleep in my bed?" Hermione demanded.
"What's the matter wife? Are you forgetting that from now on we have to share a bed?" Malfoy smirked at her.
"Oh merlin I don't have the patience for this, or the time. Move, I need to shower," Hermione said, losing her temper at the reminder.
"I need my shirt back," Malfoy told her, crossing his arms over his chest and drawing Hermione's attention to the fact that he was still shirtless. Hermione tried not to let her eyes linger on his long, lean body, or on the fact that his ribs were visible – no doubt thanks to his curse. She also tried to ignore the fact that faint lines distinguished each muscle of his wiry frame and instead found her eyes drawn to the five long claw marks that slashed diagonally across his chest and over his stomach.
"I'm naked underneath," Hermione protested, her cheeks turning pink.
Malfoy shrugged, "I'm going to see it all sooner or later."
"I hate you," Hermione told him, scowling hatefully into his pointed face.
"I hate you too, now hand over the shirt."
"Not going to happen," Hermione told him, "Move, or I'll hex you."
"It's not like I didn't see you naked when you came to bed after showering last night anyway," Malfoy informed her and Hermione whimpered involuntarily.
"If you don't move I'm going to vomit on you," Hermione threatened, her stomach rolling with nausea and making her think it was actually a valid threat.
"Gross," Malfoy said, his face curling in disgust before he stepped out of the doorway and sauntered off down the hall. Hermione scowled when she realised he was heading for her bedroom.
Indecision gnawed at her as she glanced between the shower and his retreating form and Hermione hated the injections she was given when she felt her body tingle with desire at the way he practically swaggered, his trousers riding low on his hips and his back bared to her. She clenched her fist when she felt the urge again to run her fingers over the many scars criss-crossing his back, noticing that his entire back was in fact covered in claw marks. She could tell based on the positioning of some of them that at least a few of them were self-inflicted, while others could only possibly have been put there by another werewolf.
Pinching herself in an attempt to snap herself out of it, Hermione stomped into the bathroom and locked the door, wondering how much water she'd have to breathe in before she would be able to drown the images and tingling feelings away.
When she felt almost alive and back to normal, Hermione finally got out of the shower before cursing when she realised that she had left her bathrobe back in her bedroom and so would have to make the dash between the bathroom and her bedroom in nothing but a towel.
"Argh!" Hermione and Ginny simultaneously screamed when Hermione opened the door to find Ginny right outside and about to knock on the door.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"I was just about to check on you and make sure you hadn't fallen asleep sitting in the bottom of the shower under the spray again," Ginny explained, smiling at her friend.
"That was one time," Hermione protested, though she couldn't help but smile as she remembered the time she'd done that the morning after she a Ron had broken up.
"And until last night you hadn't been that drunk since that one time," Ginny reminded her.
"How did we get so drunk?" Hermione asked, lowering her voice to whisper to her best friend, "How did we all end up back here? Why did you let Malfoy sleep in my bed?"
"To be honest I didn't think you'd end up getting to bed. There were so many envelopes and you were still rather sloshed, I figured you'd either be up all night working on the guest list, or that'd you fall asleep there like you do so many other nights when you have a project that you're completely focused on," Ginny admitted honestly.
"So you let him sleep in my bed?" Hermione asked her, stricken.
"Well I wasn't about to let Zabini crawl back into my bed after what he said to me, and it's not like I could just stop Malfoy. Did you see his eyes? He was still all wolf-looking when I went to bed. In fact I'm surprised he left you alone to work on the list."
"He said he tried to carry me to bed when I fell out of my chair but that I went berserk and wouldn't stop until I finished the guest list," Hermione told her friend.
"Is that why I heard you scream earlier? I didn't know he was up too. Blaise is still out of it on the couch."
"I think the werewolf genetics helped him sober up faster, and his eyes were finally grey again instead of gold," Hermione replied, "He said he saw me naked and I woke up wearing only his shirt and my knickers."
"Oh my gosh, you slept with him already?" Ginny demanded, looking excited and appalled at the same time.
"No!" Hermione gasped, "At least, he said we didn't. I don't remember anything from last night."
"So where is he now?" Ginny asked, peering past Hermione into the bathroom as though expecting to see Malfoy in there in a towel behind her.
"I don't know? I'm hoping he left," Hermione answered truthfully.
"Well, I guess you got your first taste of what your married life is going to be like," Ginny said, "What with the whole having to share a bed rule."
"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Hermione asked her drily.
"Better, I think. By the way, we need to be at Diagon Alley in fifteen minutes, so you need to hurry," Ginny reminded her and Hermione groaned.
"Today's going to be positively disgusting," Hermione told her friend even as she raced down the hall to her bedroom as she added, "Oh and you should wake Blaise."
Hermione snapped her bedroom door closed and dashed across the room to her wardrobe, hunting in her drawers for some clean knickers that she wouldn't be totally embarrassed to be seen in by everyone else since she would be in and out of her clothes all morning trying on dresses. When she managed to find a nice, respectable looking pair of beige boy-legs with lace trim, Hermione dropped her towel and slid the garment up her legs, cursing softly when she realised that she should've remembered to shave her legs in the shower. They were prickly.
Not knowing what kind of dress she would opt for, Hermione dug out her stick-on chicken fillets rather than a regular bra.
"What is that?" a gravelly voice asked her and Hermione screamed, spinning quickly and feeling her cheeks and temper flame when she spotted Malfoy reclining on her bed as though he belonged there. She kind of hated herself for the way her eyes trailed over him, making her want to walk over and touch him.
"Again with the screaming Granger?" he groaned, "I'm hungover and have werewolf hearing. Are you trying to make my ears bleed?"
"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded of him, "How could you just sit there while I dropped my towel? You pervert!"
"You knew I was in here," Malfoy replied, smirking devilishly, "I know you watched me walk all the way down the hall and back into your room. So I figured you were getting over being a prude when you got naked for me again."
"I'm going to kill you Draco Malfoy," Hermione threatened, wanting to snatch up her wand but incapable given that she was currently clutching her bare breasts to keep them from view.
"Now is that any way to talk to your husband?" Malfoy asked, smirking as he slowly sat up.
"You're not my husband!" Hermione snarled.
"Not yet. But we are going to be fitted for wedding garb today, so you might as well get used to calling me your husband, wifey."
"If you call me that one more time I'm going to smother you with a pillow," Hermione snapped, beginning to feel self-conscious when she noticed that his gaze was travelling over her bared body hungrily, his eyes flickering between Malfoy grey and lupine gold even as he got to his feet and began to stalk towards her across her small bedroom like the wolf he was. She felt her skin prickle uncomfortably at the thought of being his prey.
"Don't you need to be getting dressed for today?" he asked, his voice husky. Hermione blushed when her gaze skidded down his still-bare torso and caught sight of the bulge in the front of his dark trousers.
"Don't you dare come any closer Malfoy, just take your shirt and get out of here," Hermione told him.
"We both know that's not going to happen," Malfoy said, clucking his tongue at her for her foolish suggestion.
"Yes it is, get the hell out! I don't have to deal with you being anywhere near me until next Friday and I mean to take full advantage of that fact," Hermione snapped, taking as many steps back as she could before her back collided with her bedroom wall.
"You didn't seem to mind last night," Malfoy argued with her softly, coming closer and closer until he stood less than a meter from her, looking down at her wearing that smug smile and ever-arrogant expression she so remembered from their years at Hogwarts.
"Yes I did, but every time I tried to escape you, you snarled like a beast. I wasn't about to risk having my arms torn off," Hermione needled him, knowing it was a cheap shot to bring up his condition but not caring when he was beginning to fluster her by standing so close while she wore so little.
"Why are you so nervous around me Granger?" he asked wickedly, smirking now.
"I'm not nervous," Hermione protested, "I'm concerned that you don't seem to understand the word 'no'."
Hermione quivered with nervousness and uncertainty when he slid his feet across her carpet, moving even closer until he was well within her personal space and Hermione had to tip her head back to hold his stare.
"I'm going to kiss you," He told her, his voice husky and his flickering eyes settling on lupine gold again.
"Not until our wedding day you're not," Hermione corrected him.
"You're delusional if you believe that," he told her and Hermione felt her heart begin to race when his fingers brushed against her chin and along her jaw.
"I'm not delusional Malfoy. I'm rational. Which you clearly aren't. I'm not kissing you and I need to get dressed so please either turn your back or leave my bedroom," Hermione told him sternly, even though the caress of his cool fingers against her shower-flushed skin made her knees tremble just the tiniest bit.
"Do you know what's going to happen to both of us if you keep resisting, Granger?" Malfoy asked her quietly, his eyes fixed on her lips but his tone serious.
"You're going to go slowly insane because the Ministry is going to keep drugging you," Hermione replied.
"And they're going to keep drugging you, making you smell more and more like a wolf and making you want me, even if you don't want to want me," Malfoy told her, "You already smell too good for your own safety."
"Meaning what?" Hermione asked him.
"Meaning the wolf is always awake Granger, and the wolf is a predator. The more you resist the more the wolf views you as prey. If you keep trying to resist me, and actually manage it until next Friday, the wolf is going to go rabid and I don't have a strong enough leash to chain him," Malfoy warned her seriously.
"For all I care, you can leash the beast until you howl for me. I'm not kissing you and you're not going to touch me until our wedding night. Is that clear?" Hermione replied coldly, staring into his face seriously.
A low snarl rumbled inside his chest but Hermione held her ground.
"You're making a mistake," Malfoy whispered, his eyes flickering back to grey as he blinked rapidly, his fist clenching at his side while he dropped his other hand away from her.
"The mistake would be letting you snog me when we have to be at Diagon Alley in less than ten minutes," Hermione replied, "Now take your shirt and get out. I need to get dressed."
Hermione stared up at him for another long minute and she noticed the way his body tensed and quivered as though fighting some internal battle with the animal within to do what she said.
"You're going to have to help me," he murmured finally, his whole body shuddering with fine tremors.
"How?" Hermione asked him seriously, realising he was having real trouble fighting his animalistic nature to do what she wanted. When his eyes flickered gold to grey several times in quick succession before landing on the curve of her neck, the spot he'd been so fond of sniffing, licking and nipping last night, Hermione realised there was only one way she was going to get him out of her room.
Spinning on her toes, Hermione turned her back to him, stepping a little closer to the wall.
"What are you…?" Malfoy trailed off with a groan when Hermione reached up and swept her hair away from the spot he'd been eyeing, glancing over her shoulder at him and tilting her head to the side a little, offering him the patch of skin. She jumped when she felt one of his hands curl over her hips and around, his palm flattening against her stomach. Her heart pounded in her ears, sounding far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.
"This isn't helping," He groaned against her shoulder and Hermione quivered in his hold as his nose skimmed across her skin down the side of her neck and along the top of her shoulder.
"Then what will?" Hermione said, hating herself when she realised she sounded breathless. Her nipples tightened into taut peaks at the feel of his cool breath against her suddenly flushed skin.
"Don't let them give you any more injections laced with werewolf DNA," Malfoy murmured against her skin, making Hermione quiver when she felt the soft brush of his lips against her sensitive skin.
"You know they're going to," Hermione whispered, her body trembling when she felt the way he fitted his teeth over the spot he was so taken with, biting down gently. She hissed when his free hands came up to press her jaw, turning her face until she met his gaze over her shoulder.
"Don't let them Granger," he told her, his voice hoarse with desire like she'd never heard anyone else's. At least not because of her, "Anymore lupine and you're mine."
With that said he bit down on the top of her shoulder again, not hard enough to break the skin or leave a mark, but just hard enough to warn her that her life was going to get a lot more complicated. She didn't have a choice about what the Ministry dictated should be put in her injection, nor about the fact that she'd have to marry the werewolf currently stalking out of her bedroom. She didn't have a choice about the fact that she was going to end up more lupine and was going to end up married to Draco Malfoy, her childhood enemy and the man currently making her feel weak in the knees with how much effort it took to stay stern and not let him have his way with her after one day.
When she heard her door click closed, Hermione sagged with relief, pressing her forehead against the wall and trying to get her racing heart back under control. She had no idea how much of an effect the injections were having on her, all she knew was that her body craved his touch the way she hadn't even craved anything else in her life. Taking several long deep breaths in, Hermione straightened and rushed to don her stick-on-chicken-fillets before throwing on a loose fitting, pale pink beach dress that hung loose and helped to conceal her figure. It was also easy to slip on and off, which would be convenient while she tried on wedding dresses.
She frowned when she glanced at herself in the mirror and noticed she had a pair of hand shaped bruises circling both biceps dark enough that she could see the outline where each one of his fingers had squeezed her so tightly yesterday. They weren't going to be easy to hide and Hermione shuddered to think about how impossible Harry and Ron were going to be if they caught sight of the marks.
Slipping a pair of sandals onto her feet and grabbing her cream-coloured cardigan, Hermione hurried out her door, calling out to Ginny that they were going to be late but she wasn't going anywhere without her hangover cure strawberry milkshake and bacon sandwich.
"You can't be serious 'Mione?" Ginny called as Hermione raced into their living room, "Oh, you look nice."
"Thanks, you too. And I am serious. I'm starving and if I don't get my milkshake I'm likely to murder Parkinson or Fleur today," Hermione informed her, choosing for the time being to ignore both Zabini and Malfoy who both still looked hungover. Blaise looked like hell. Malfoy didn't look as bad, but it was clear to her that if anyone looked at the four of them it would be painfully obvious that they'd all been drinking last night.
"I don't know how you can drink a milkshake when you're hung over. The last thing I ever want is something milky," Ginny said, shaking her head and heading for the door.
"It's a foible. I've tried other things, but you know coffee makes me gag and Orange juice stings my throat when I've been drinking," Hermione told her, stopping at the table on the way out the door to grab the guest list she'd thrown together last night.
"Did you get that finished?" Ginny asked her, waving her wand to lock the door behind Malfoy and Zabini as they followed in silence.
"Eventually," Hermione said, "Though I have no idea what time I got to bed."
"After four," Malfoy replied, around a yawn from behind her, "You woke me up when you came in, grumbling because you kicked your toe in the dark and then you couldn't get your alarm clock to work properly."
"It's creepy that you know that," Ginny informed him, saving Hermione the trouble.
"What's creepy is that you smell like Zabini even though you made him sleep on the couch," Malfoy retorted as Hermione led the way down the street towards her favourite café.
"Hi Hermione!" the waitress greeted her, bouncing merrily, "Hey Ginny!"
"Hi Penny," Hermione smiled. Penny was a muggle who was working as a waitress whilst paying her way through university.
"The usual?" She asked, smiling, "You look like you started the weekend early."
"The usual," Hermione confirmed, "With extra ice-cream in my milkshake please."
"Big night then?" Penny laughed.
"You have no idea," Hermione replied darkly.
"Alright, one milkshake, extra ice-cream and one bacon sandwich coming up."
"Make it four," Malfoy interrupted.
"Pardon?" Penny asked, raising her eyebrows at Malfoy before glancing at Hermione curiously.
"Make it four bacon sandwiches" he repeated, looking like he was half-starved.
"O-kay…. Erm, Ginny, anything for you?"
"A sausage and egg muffin," Ginny nodded, "With extra hollandaise."
"Anything else?" Penny asked, glancing at Blaise who looked like he was going to vomit.
"Mint tea for me," he said to Penny and Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Alright, we'll get right on it if you'd all like to just take a seat," Penny said.
"Oh, it's to go," Ginny said, "And could you ask Brian to rush our order? We've got an eleven o'clock appointment."
"Not a problem," Penny smiled and Hermione could tell from the way her eyes danced between the four of them that she was dying of curiosity to see Ginny and Hermione with a pair of boys in tow."
"How often do you women eat here that you know the names of all the staff?" Blaise asked when Penny was gone.
"At least once a week," Hermione replied "They do good food."
"How snappy do you think the rush order will be?" Malfoy asked, "I'm starving."
"You're really going to eat three bacon sandwiches for breakfast?" Hermione asked him doubtfully.
"Breakfast? This is just a snack. I'll get some real breakfast in Diagon Alley," Malfoy waved his hands dismissively.
"Just how much do you eat?" Ginny asked and Hermione sniggered at the very idea given that all of her brothers were big eaters and so it took a lot to surprise her when it came to meal sizes.
"Probably about four times the amount a normal person does," Malfoy replied, "The wolf is easier to control if he's well fed."
"And you used to complain about feeding Ron," Ginny laughed, nudging Hermione playfully.
"I wonder if he's tried to flee the country yet?" Hermione mused as she thought about Ron and how much he was dreading marrying Pansy
"I'm sure Dad and the others will have stopped him if he did," Ginny said, though she didn't look very confident.
"You think? Your Dad and brothers might've tried to help him. It is Parkinson after all, and I don't' see your parents being thrilled at the prospect of having her for their new daughter-in-law," Hermione told her.
"Why must you say these things and remind me that she's going to be my sister-in-law?" Ginny asked, looking horrified, "You know I was still holding out hope that you'd be my sister-in-law one day."
Hermione laughed.
"You did remember to bring your dress to this meeting, right?" she asked her best friend.
"Mum's dropping it off," Ginny replied, "I'm sure it's a plot to include herself in the planning. You know how barmy she gets about wedding plans."
"You're going to have to run a lot of interference today," Hermione told her seriously, "I shudder to think what would happen if she tried to suggest a dress to Parkinson."
Ginny nodded, "I'll do what I can to keep her off your back until your hangover wears off" Ginny promised.
"This is why I love you," Hermione smiled at her friend "I didn't even have to suggest that she was going to drive me crazy with her traditionalist ideas and you knew what I was getting at."
"How long have you two lived together?" Malfoy asked, glancing between them and looking intrigued by their easy friendship.
"It would've been three years at the end of April," Hermione told him, feeling a little sad at the reminder that come next week she wouldn't wake up to the sound of Ginny singing in the shower every morning when she got home from her early-morning Quidditch practice.
"Guess you'll be missing that anniversary," Blaise said through his hands having buried his face in them to avoid the sun glaring off the table beside theirs.
"Do you have to be morbid?" Ginny asked him, looking at Hermione sadly.
"Just stating fact," Blaise replied, "You should start packing your things and moving them to my place."
"Who said I was moving to your place?" Ginny demanded, "Why can't you move to my place?"
"Have you seen my place?" Blaise asked her seriously, lifting his face out of his hands and quirking an eyebrow at her.
"Well… no…" Ginny said.
"Then don't even bother arguing. You'll move into my place."
"You can't tell me what to do Zabini," Ginny snapped.
"Sure I can. You like it," Blaise grinned wickedly, "And when you see my place it's going to be a battle trying to keep you out, so stop arguing with me."
"I hate you," Ginny told him nastily and Hermione giggled when Blaise rolled his eyes before groaning, clearly regretting the action.
"Are you sweet talking me, Babe?" Blaise asked her and Hermione laughed and Ginny's affronted expression at being called 'babe'.
"Don't call me that," Ginny said.
"You used to like it," Blaise told her and Hermione caught Ginny's confused expression at his change in attitude from that of the scowling, hurt man he'd been last night before Hermione had lectured him about being a git.
"I used to like a lot of things that I hate now," Ginny snapped at him and Hermione caught the disbelieving smirk Blaise threw at his fiancé.
"Is this state of denial going to last long?" He asked Ginny whose ears turned red with annoyance.
"Ok, here's your order," Penny interrupted before Ginny could retort, "One milkshake, one mint tea, four bacon sandwiches and a sausage and egg muffin."
"Thanks Penny," Hermine said, "You're a life saver."
"Just call me Supergirl," Penny smiled brightly.
"We may be back tomorrow," Ginny warned her and Penny laughed.
"Something awful happen that I don't know about?"
"Oh yeah," Ginny replied cryptically and shot a dark glance at Blaise, "We'll see you."
Hermione led the way out of the shop, noticing that Malfoy had eaten his first sandwich by the time they walked out the door.