Disclaimer: Characters by JK Rowling, Plot by Penny Jordan, Chapter Title not so witty reference to Pat Ballard's song Mr. Sandman sung by The Chordettes.
Her head felt heavy and it was an effort just keeping her eyes open. Hermione was practically dead on her feet (and she would have looked it too, without that refreshing cosmetic charm) and the night wasn't over by a long shot. Alcohol always did make her feel sleepy, and the three glasses of wine she had earlier that evening only added to her general state of lassitude. She had tried to beg off this last social engagement claiming that she was practically asleep on her feet, but Draco had insisted they both attend his cousin's party – together.
You had to pick your fights, and this was one she did not have the energy or mental faculties to win. Hermione had just nodded wearily and hoped that she would not disgrace herself by snoring when she fell asleep standing up.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
The day had been a long one and neither of them were in the best of moods at the end of it. Hermione was shooting him angry glares from her position across from him in the carriage driving them to Luc's party. Despite his irritability (he was always somewhat irritable after conversations with his mother) Draco found her behaviour amusing more than anything else. He was however careful to keep his expression blank, after all the surest way to destroy the night's continued peace was for Hermione to discover the degree of amusement her sulk was providing him.
Sitting with her arms crossed, a small scowl contorting her features and her bottom lip stuck out in a childish pout, she really didn't look much older than a toddler; a particularly tired and cranky toddler. Indeed, her indignant frown was soon spoiled by a large yawn, which caused her to close her eyes and scrunch her nose up as her mouth opened wide.
Draco knew that Hermione was tired. He was tired, and he would have bet anything that she was less accustomed to a busy social schedule than he. Unfortunately, they still had commitments, so bed for the both of them would have to wait.
No sooner had Hermione composed her face back into a dark expression and set her intense stare directly at him once more than her focus was again destroyed by long yawn right on the back of the first. As hard as he fought to suppress his response, Draco found his body mimicking Hermione's display of exhaustion, cursing the contagious nature of the act… She gave another yawn in answer… And then he followed suit...
It looked to be a long night ahead of them.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
The carriage pulled to a stop, having reached the coast after a short journey from the castle. Hermione stepped down from her high seat ignoring the hand Draco offered to assist her. She knew full well the snub would irritate Draco, but she had meant to make a point of her self-sufficiency, and did not anticipate the extent that her small act of defiance would disgruntle him. Draco was already walking away from her. She realised that, having refused this gesture, his next offer of assistance would be a long time coming. Hermione was vaguely put out that he had not stayed and waited to lead her to their destination, a feeling which she realised was completely inconsistent and unproductive moreover.
Yet surely he was heading in the wrong direction, away from the quay rather than towards it? Had she angered him that much?
Looking around, she could not help the small look of confusion that registered on her face. Considering that they had arrived at the beach Hermione had assumed that the party was to be on board the yacht that Luc owned. It now appeared that this was not the case, the only boats moored along the shore being dinghies and small fishing vessels. Instead, Draco had walked over to a large, yet simple looking property and now stood watching her impatiently, leaning against the door. Rolling her eyes, she hastened to catch up with him.
Moments later they stood glaring at each other before, by some form of mutual consent, both pasting on insincere social masks. Draco knocked on the door and it swung open and Luc's smiling face emerged.
"You've made it. Everyone was beginning to wonder if you had decided to 'forget' this little get together in preference of each others' company," mistaking their less than enthused expressions for something else, Luc laughed. "Aha! So this did interrupt something?"
Opening the door wide Luc ushered them in, "Come in, come in. I'll introduce you to everyone. Besides placing bets to see when, or if, the fairytale couple would actually turn up people have been expressing their eagerness to meet you, Hermione. Naturally, I've told them all a lot about you, so you can be in charge of straightening out all those misleading rumours I started."
The wink Hermione had found endearing enough at their previous meeting now made her want to poke his darn eye out. She really must be tired.
Luc's house had looked unpretentious, even austere, from the outside but once inside the decoration changed the atmosphere completely. The rooms were still uncluttered and minimalist, but in such a way that just screamed that a large expense that had gone into making them so. Each room was painted a decidedly subdued shade with large canvases or wizard photos hung on the muted walls giving the rooms a hint of colour and life. The light wood floors were kept bare or more rarely covered by a dark carpet. The furnishings were simple, favouring unpatterned monotonous fabrics, stainless steel and severe geometric lines. It was the direct opposite of the intimidating opulence of the palace's decoration, but even so, Hermione did not feel comfortable. This house lacked the soul that made it a home. The house was so at odds with Luc's loud and cheerful personality that she wondered if he had any input in it's decoration at all.
As Luc guided them through the house, Hermione could hear the dull hum of conversation and background music increasing, and her nerves grew with the noise. She felt a tiny nervous shimmer work its way through her body. But she steeled herself just before Luc led them through to a large room filled with people; if she had survived the pompous crowd at the castle, she could easily survive this.
And Hermione did survive, although not entirely unscathed.
For a brief while she had forgotten her exhaustion as she had made the rounds with Draco, shaking hands, being introduced and making polite conversation. The guests at Luc's party were much younger and friendlier than those at the castle had been earlier that night, and the atmosphere considerably more convivial. A few looked at her suspiciously when she refused offers of alcohol due to her drowsiness and stuck to mineral water, but on the whole the company was pleasant and engaging. Hermione was having such a good time she was even well on the way to forgiving Draco for his insistence that this party was far more important than a good night's sleep.
That was until she had been introduced to Anaïs, the kind of woman Hermione was sure was put on this earth for the sole purpose of giving all other women inferiority complexes. A woman so perfect, she looked otherwordly. She had the body of a lingerie model, highlighted by the fabric of her dress which looked to be wrapped around her curves; the face of a movie star, with big almond-shaped eyes and full red lips; the kind of straight, flowing hair that Hermione could only dream of and a soft breathy voice which invited images of bedrooms and rumpled sheets. In other words, you either fell a little bit in lust with her or despised her on sight.
"Draco, cheri. It's been far too long."
As a Niffler, or just a particularly audacious woman, sniffing out a glittering golden ring Anaïs immediately latched onto Draco. She greeted him in the Parisian manner. Four kisses, starting on the left cheek, right cheek and repeating the action. Hermione had always thought that it seemed a bit theatrical and overdone when a simple handshake would suffice.
Draco had turned from Hermione and stared speechlessly at the beautiful woman. After several moments stretched uncomfortably, he seemed to remember himself.
"Indeed it has. Hermione, may I introduce Anaïs Legard. Anaïs, Hermione Granger."
The woman gave a short, dismissive nod in Hermione's general direction before returning her attention solely to Draco.
"How horrible it is, forced from one arranged marriage straight to another!" Her fingers slowly moved up his arm in a move that was as suggestive as it was calculated. She pouted prettily. "Now we shall hardly be able to find the time to see each other as we once did. And I had so looked forward to our… catching up."
And from the not-so-subtle signals she was giving off, it looked as if Anaïs wanted to "catch up" with him right there in the middle of the floor.
"I had always thought that royalty could do what they liked, when they liked. After all, nothing ever stopped you before." She gave a soft, husky laugh.
There was no way Hermione was mistaking the innuendo in the woman's words. She knew it was an act for her benefit; it was all so smooth and calculated it made her feel slightly ill. After her two earlier experiences with Narcissa, she had spent more than enough energy tolerating the company of manipulative women for one day. And for Draco to allow the woman to act so blatantly in a room full of people, to allow Anaïs to publicly humiliate Hermione in such a way, the dull churning in her gut turned into a seething heat of anger. If Anaïs wanted to make a claim on Draco she was welcome to him, Hermione decided. But she would not be toyed with and insulted and forced to stand by tamely as the two practically had sex fully clothed in front of her.
Hermione laughed, but even to her own ears it sounded brittle and unnatural. "Oh, let me assure you, that is still well and true." She wasn't particularly skilled at social intrigue and entendre but as a parting shot Hermione supposed it would do.
She was much too tired, and now wound up, to be social as it was. So after extricating herself from the uncomfortable triangle, Hermione sought solitude down on the beach rather than rejoining the party. Better that she enjoy the beautiful night than endure any more awkward interaction.
It was certainly safer than staying and watching Anaïs and Draco drool over each other; she didn't want to slip on the floor and break her neck, although she had the feeling that neither would mourn for very long if she did.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The moon was full and round, yellow against the inky purple of the night sky. Equally dark water reflected the tiny glinting lights of stars. The evening air was still and balmy. All around her she could hear the sharp sounds of small waves slapping against the hollow hulls of small fishing boats. For all the years Hermione had spent in the wonder of the wizarding world, she still had moments when she could recognise the magic in something so mundane and ordinary. Tonight, however, most of the beauty was lost on her.
She sat on the quayside, the skirt of her dress rolled up to mid-thigh, kicking her legs over the edge, bare feet just above the water. Hermione wished she had a good rock to skip over the black waves. She was half tempted for a moment to try her luck with the large engagement ring on her finger. In the end, she decided not to. She had never been that good at skipping stones, and a gesture that symbolic deserved to be convincing. She wasn't sure she had it in her to be convincing just now. And that surprised her. She was certainly angry enough at Draco…
"You know just 10 years ago I probably would have been hung, drawn and quartered if I had dared ogle the legs of the Prince's fiancée?" Luc's voice was a gentle interruption from her melancholy as he sat down next to her.
"You probably still would be if you tried it with Narcissa."
"Ah, the old banshee. I'm not exactly popular with her as it is."
Hermione glowered, "I'm almost certain I could beat you on the unpopularity stakes. Unless you plan on stealing Draco away from her by stealing him away from me and then marrying him, that is." She continued bitterly.
Luc chuckled. "I think Draco's safe from my advances… No, I'd say Narcissa's more worried that I've shown up to steal the crown away from her by stealing it away from him."
Hermione snorted inelegantly through her nose. They were silent for a time.
"Why did you run away, anyway? Last I saw, you were having an enjoyable enough time."
"That was before Draco and Anaïs' little reunion."
"Ah… well… I wouldn't worry too much about her. She's just a society bitch. Unfortunately you get them in these circles and there's not much you can do about it. She's a bit like salt damp in that way."
The silence stretched again.
"I wouldn't worry too much about Anaïs. I've seen the way Draco looks at you, and it's markedly different from the way he looks at her."
The sad thing was Luc thought he was helping with that statement. Instead, she felt a renewed desire to rip her ring off and throw it into the ocean. And this time, Hermione imagined she had the proper capacity of anger to make it a convincing action. There was a clear enough reason for that difference; Hermione was his fake fiancée, a source of continual frustration; Anaïs was his (ex? current?) lover, beautiful, alluring and uncomplicated.
But why, if he already had a lover did he need her for a wife? She answered the question even as she asked it.
Because Draco liked being in control, he needed that sense of power. Anaïs may have been striking, and was no doubt a good bed partner, but she didn't look like the kind of woman who could easily be controlled. Normally Hermione would have liked to think that of herself, but there was the fact that Draco had the ability to ruin her life constantly hanging over her head. That was incentive enough to…
"You know you'll have to go back in there sooner or later?" Luc gestured to the party. "Everyone was so excited to meet you. Especially the ladies – they'd all heard rumours, from yours truly of course, about your and Draco's grand love affair and last minute engagement. I thought I'd have to get out a fainting couch; they looked like they'd swoon at the romance of it all. Mass unconsciousness at a party! Can you imagine what it would have done for my reputation?" But he was serious again. "You know, if you don't go back people will start talking… and eventually Draco will come out looking for you."
"And it would create all sorts of problems for your reputation if he found you two out here alone, wouldn't it?"
Both Hermione and Luc swivelled around quickly to face Draco, who approached them without hurry. Due to the flatness of his tone it was unclear who this taunt was directed at, or even if it was joking or serious, but Hermione nonetheless felt the contradictory sinking of her stomach and rise of her temper.
Luc apparently decided to take it in a teasing light, hopping spryly to his feet. "Just protecting the jewel of the crown from things that go bump in the night," he squeezed Draco's shoulder as he moved past to make his way back to his house. "I'll make your excuses."
Draco remained standing a few paces from where Hermione sat, arms folded across his chest staring stonily at her. Why did he have to have the advantage of position every time they had an argument? Hermione scrambled to her feet and met his fury head on, her high heeled shoes held by their straps in her right hand, as her left made it's way to her hip.
"So I turn my back for one minute and you're gone. Again. You haven't changed. And then I find you out here, with my cousin no less. We're about to be married and –"
"And the marriage is all a complete sham. Which was artfully demonstrated when you and that Anaïs woman inside could barely keep your dignity intact and your clothes on as you mentally, or in her case physically, pawed each other! You could barely take your eyes off her, 'oh it's been too long', so don't give me this pseudo-jealous act."
"The last time I saw her she had a nose the size of a bloody tin of tomatoes! So, yes, I will admit to staring… but only because I was trying to remember who the hell she was."
"Oh, so you've had so many flings you can't even remember their names now? And, what, you figured that she was wearing a name tag so staring at her breasts would jog your memory?" She accused.
Draco' voice raised with every sentence, until he was bellowing red-faced. "First, I haven't seen Anaïs in years. Second, it was never that kind of relationship. And third, I think if you'll recall correctly she wasthe one groping me, not the other way around. All of which still doesn't explain why you were out here, alone, with another man."
Hermione was desperately trying to keep her calm in the face of his overt anger. "He's your cousin, who I met one day ago! I hardly know the man. Unlike you and this woman, who clearly have a history together."
Draco, predictably, honed in on the one weakness in her argument, completely ignoring the rest of her speech. "Exactly! You hardly know the man and you're sitting out here, alone and in the dark with him. Which is not only highly suspicious, but dangerous too."
"And there was nothing suspicious about your behaviour indoors, in a room full of people?"
"I hardly said two words to her!"
"But she said a lot more than that, and you made no move to stop her. I had a long day, I'm tired and worn out and you insisted on dragging me to this party. For what? So I can watch you flirt with your lovers? No… I have my pride, Draco. Not much at the moment, but it's still there. This has to be a two way street. I won't abide by having vicious women practically sexually assault you in front of me."
Draco's voice was soft, but with a mocking edge to it. "Could it possibly be that you're jealous, that all–"
"I don't want to discuss this any more…" Her eyes stung and felt hot and her breath came in shuddering gasps, which Hermione knew was a precursor to tears. She was overtired and overemotional and she didn't like her inability to think straight.
"I'm tired, this is getting us nowhere and we both stopped making sense a long time ago. I'm going back to the palace and I'm going to bed. You can come with your fake wife or go back to your 'real' magically enhanced mistress, but at the end of the day you can only choose one."
Still barefoot, she swept past him on the way back to the road and the waiting carriage they had arrived in together, not particularly caring which option he chose. For a long time, she simply sat in the buggy of the carriage and closed her eyes, willing her breath to calm and her mind to think clearly. She would order the carriage to return to the castle when she was sure her eyes were dry and her voice wouldn't shake betrayingly.
Hermione did not open her eyes when the carriage tipped slightly to one side indicating that another person had climbed in, even when it started moving up towards the castle. She allowed herself a small smile. You had to pick your fights, and this one at least she had won.
The journey back was made in complete in silence, each beyond the point of conversation and deep in their own thoughts. By the time the carriage arrived back at the castle both occupants were asleep.
A/N: Thanks to readers and reviewers! Last chapter was most popular yet. JOY!