Disclaimer: I own nothing. =D
Now for a really long Author's Note...
As for the timeline I promised. Everything so far has taken place in 1999. May or June – H. graduates from Hogwarts; Late July- H. starts job at Ministry; Late August- Chapters 1 and 2; September- Chapters 3, and 4; October- Chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8; Rest of October and November- They are spending a bunch of time with each other. Malfoy joins the Quidditch League Ron and Harry play in. December- Chapters 9 and 10.
I had to go back and change some time references, but I think it all works now. =D
Thanks for all the responses about their relationship. I hadn't really thought about it as I was writing, but now that I've sat down and pondered, here's my take. Don't read if you don't want to know; just skip to the beginning of the chapter. =D:
I think Malfoy's been aware of Hermione for a while. Ever since she hit him. Not that he's liked her for that long, but she's been under his skin since then. He probably noticed that she was pretty at the Yule Ball, like everyone else did, but he didn't really care. I think actual interest was piqued the day she appeared in Andromeda's house dripping wet. His insult was most likely a mask, because he probably found her very attractive.
In chapters two and three, I think he was just bugging her because he knew it drove her nuts. He's stopped feeling maliciously towards her a long while back, so it's more a matter of just getting on her nerves. In chapter four, when he visits her at the office, I think things start to change. When she started bawling on the floor, I imagine he starts to develop more friendly feelings towards her.
As for him liking her as more than a friend, I think that starts before the Hogwarts visit. It's been a month after her breaking down in the office, so he's had some time to think about her. As Lady Sol pointed out, when he makes that line about letting her believe he just wants to use her for reputation's sake, he's actually telling the truth.
After she confronts that witch in the used book shop, I think his heart belongs to Hermione. And I'm pretty sure he is very much aware that he likes her and is on the verge of being in love with her. On the other hand, Hermione is pretty much clueless. Even if she had suspicions, she never would believe that Malfoy could actually like her. As you will see in this chapter, she will make up excuse after excuse rather than believe the obvious: he likes her and she is starting to like him. I think she's one of those girls who is afraid to risk her heart, so she holds back until it's obvious that her feelings would be returned. If that's not the case in the books, I think it could be argued that she would try that after her "relationship" failed with Ron. It would be the smart thing to do.
Everything has been written from Hermione's POV, so we don't really know what Malfoy's thinking. Just her perceptions of him. But I think there are some hints of him liking her poking through. He talks of Weasley and insults him all the time because he's jealous. Hermione just thinks it's because Malfoy's always disliked Weasley. I think he's trying to invade her life little by little, because if he declared his intentions her mind would explode. But at the same time, he really doesn't want her treating him like Harry and Ron. I agree with his assessment that Hermione is scared. Her one attempt at a relationship with Ron didn't really work (for whatever reason, though I think incompatibility played a huge part), and she doesn't realize it, but she's too intimidating for any guy to approach her. So she thinks no one likes her. Rather than waste time thinking about that, she is content to bury herself in work. And Malfoy is content to wait for her, provided no one hones in on his "territory."
For me, they work because they challenge each other. I think deep down, Malfoy wants to be a good guy (that's why he helps her at the Quidditch game and in her office). But that's not his image, and he's not supposed to care about stuff like that. So he hides his attempts behind sarcasm and teasing. It would hurt too much to truly make himself vulnerable. But I think Hermione can sense that, and now being his friend is more than doing Andromeda a favor. She really likes Malfoy and wants him to be the good guy. And he loves that she can accept him as a good guy. Right now they keep fighting all the time, but really it's good natured back and forth. If they ever said something they thought hurt the other person, they would stop (as Malfoy does in the elevator). I also think he's smart enough for her. And he's stubborn enough to outlast her and make her see his side of an argument. Things will be taking a softer turn over the next couple of chapters.
Anyway, that's my take. You can, of course, read into it whatever makes you happy. =D If this seems incongruous with what I've written, feel free to point it out.
Unfortunate Event Seven:
Vile Village, Part Two
Hermione watched as her mother rushed over to greet Malfoy. As expected, her father stood back, slightly aloof. Even with Ron and Harry he was always a bit stand-offish. The typical over-protective father, he sometimes grated on Hermione's nerves. As if she wouldn't have perfectly good sense when it came to choosing her friends.
Smile lighting up her face, her mother stretched out her hand to Malfoy. Much to Hermione's surprise, he took it without a moment's hesitation. And instead of the usual handshake, her mother was treated with a gallant kiss to the back of the hand. "Hello, Mrs. Granger. Pleased to meet you."
Malfoy really could pour on the charm when he wanted to, though it never seemed to be around Hermione. If he were only half this agreeable with her, they probably wouldn't fight so much.
"Oh!" Her mother giggled at the show of chivalry. "Hello, Draco. And please call me Allison. It's so nice to finally meet you. Hermione's told us so much about you."
Actually, she hadn't. Hermione was beginning to regret bringing Malfoy here. Her mother had been going through this phase where she kept trying to set her up. And though Allison had promised she would do no such thing should Hermione ever bring Malfoy over, Hermione was beginning to think her mother had lied.
Malfoy grimaced, relinquishing Allison's hand. "Then I should probably apologize."
Allison giggled again, lightly slapping Malfoy on the arm. "Nonsense. If Hermione's forgiven you, that's all that matters. Bygones. Any friend of Hermione's is family."
Hermione stood there, wide-eyed. Was her mother flirting with Malfoy? She certainly hoped not.
Her father finally stepped forward, grasping Malfoy's hand in what was likely a death grip. Hermione tried not to smile as she thought she saw Malfoy suppress a wince. "So you're the boy that keeps popping up in the paper with my daughter. Richard Granger, nice to meet you."
Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but Allison beat him to it, breaking up their handshake. "Now sweetie, Hermione told you those stories aren't true. Unless she's been keeping you a secret, Draco." Allison winked at Malfoy, who smiled back, completely at ease.
Oh. Sweet. Circe. Her mother was flirting with Malfoy. That was definitely worse than her father reading those stories in the Prophet. Speaking of which, she needed to cancel their subscription. It made sense after the War, when she was trying to catch them up on what had been going on in her life. Now it was just an embarrassment.
Allison ushered Malfoy over to the couch and sat down next to him. Hermione joined them, sandwiching Malfoy, while her father retreated to his recliner.
"So Draco, do you know of any young men in Hermione's life? She never mentions anyone when I ask."
Way to jump into a totally inappropriate and personal conversation topic with a boy you hardly know, mother. Hermione would definitely need to speak with her about that later.
Malfoy glanced at Hermione, a glimmer in his eye. This was bad. Very bad.
Turning to Allison, he said, "Hermione's been holding out on you. One of my friends informed me she has quite the following at work amongst the interns."
Hermione tapped Malfoy on the shoulder and demanded, "Who said that?"
"Pansy," he replied.
Well that explained it. "Mum, that's not true. Pansy's lying."
"Why would she do that?" asked her mother, all innocence and naivety.
"She hates me," Hermione said.
"Hermione's just being overdramatic," Malfoy said.
Allison gave him a knowing smile. "She tends to do that. But it's part of her charm."
Malfoy nodded, then turned to look at Hermione, gray eyes still sparkling with mischief, "And if you're unwilling to trust Pansy, I've heard it from others as well. Blaise also asks about you every now and then. And so does Gregory."
Allison shook her head, mildly exasperated. "I keep telling her she needs to go and find herself a nice young man and settle down, but she says she is too focused on her work. Your dad and I are worried, pumpkin. You aren't getting any younger."
"I'm twenty years old!" Hermione protested, as her dad said, "I am not worried."
Both Malfoy and her mother ignored them. Turning back to Allison, he said, "If I hadn't already known, I would never have guessed you were old enough to be Hermione's mother."
That was rich. If his simultaneous snort was any indication, her father felt the same way.
Hermione's mother was, of course, thrilled by the compliment. Trying not to roll her eyes, Hermione said, "It's not like I'm in hiding, mum. If anyone likes me, they've certainly never said anything about it to me."
"And why would they? If you keep saying you don't want to be in a relationship, they're never going to work up the nerve to ask you out. You need to give them some encouragement. Think of what you must seem like to them. You've grown up to be a beautiful young woman. You're most likely smarter than they are, and a successful war hero to boot. That's a frightening combination for any man. Isn't that true, Draco?"
"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "Most men are too intimidated to approach her."
Not used to this kind of conversation, Hermione was at a loss for words. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she wondered why everyone was ganging up on her. Well, everyone but her dad, but if he had his way, she'd stay single forever.
"Well, what would you have me do? Show up to work in sweats and hit myself over the head with a rock?" Hermione asked.
Allison looked over at Malfoy, grin on her face. "See, Draco, overdramatic."
"I'm right here, mum. I can hear you."
"But will you listen?" Allison asked.
She was perfectly capable of following directions, thank you very much. Hermione scowled at the insult.
"Pumpkin, don't do that. It ruins your pretty face. And as for the young men, all you need to do is talk to them. How do you think I got to know your father?"
Easy for her mother to say. She could handle herself in a conversation and was comfortable with herself when discussing things other than school. It probably helped that she had always been pretty, had manageable, shiny hair, and a very nice smile. And even though Hermione looked like her, she had inherited her father's hair, teeth, and sometimes difficult personality.
"Mum, I'm not going up to random men that I don't know. You know I can't do that. I'll trip over my words and make a fool of myself. Besides, if they like me so much, they should be pursuing me. I've not had one man visit me at the office or sit with me at lunch. If these so-called admirers exist (which is still up for debate), they are cowards."
"And let's hope it stays that way," her father muttered under his breath.
"Don't say that, Richard! I want grandchildren!"
"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Allison. I doubt you would want any of these men as your son-in-law. Hermione is too good for them," Malfoy said, reassuringly.
Allison gave him a grateful sigh, but Hermione saw her dad's lip curl. "How kind of you to say, Draco. You seem like a very nice young man." Allison looked pointedly at her daughter. "Wouldn't you agree, pumpkin?"
"Sure, whatever," Hermione said.
"So, Draco, are you and Pansy dating?" Allison asked.
"No. She's just an old friend of the family. If I'm not mistaken, she will soon be getting engaged to one of Hermione's coworkers."
"Lancelot? That was quick," Hermione said.
"When Pansy wants something, she won't take no for an answer," Malfoy said, a bit wryly.
Allison once again looked at her daughter, eyebrows raised and telegraphing a not-so-subtle meaning. "I take it you're single, Draco."
"Yes. What with managing my family's company I don't have much time for dating."
"Certainly have enough time to spend with my daughter," Richard grumbled.
"Richard is such a kidder, aren't you, dear?" As much as her mother tried to play it off, Hermione could see the effort it took to keep her smile in place. "You're in charge of your family's company? That's quite impressive for someone your age. I for one am glad that someone as responsible as you has the time to spend with our Hermione. We can't always be watching her, and it's so reassuring to know she's in safe hands."
Had Hermione entered some time warp? This was the 21st century, not the medieval ages for crying out loud. She could feel herself wilting under the oppression. Ever since her parents had returned from Australia, her mother had been hell-bent on getting her to date. It made some sense. After all, as her mother always reminded her and the War demonstrated with frightening clarity, tomorrow was never guaranteed. But this was insane. Why didn't her mother just barter her away for some chickens, a mule, and a flagon of ale?
"We thought that perhaps Ron Weasley would ask her out, but nothing came of it." Hermione could see the wheels turning in her mom's mind. The woman was setting a trap and was waiting to pounce on his answer.
Malfoy coughed, and Hermione watched him struggle to say something polite about her red-headed friend. "That's…unfortunate."
Allison looked confused, no doubt perplexed that her "betrothed" hadn't reacted jealously. "You think so?" she said, "We were actually quite happy nothing happened."
Really? That was news to her. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" Hermione said.
"There was no point, pumpkin. It was just one of those childish infatuations that fades with time. Saying something would have only made it worse, especially since you never even told us you were interested in him."
"Don't worry." Malfoy patted Hermione on the knee, drawing death rays from her father and smiles from her mother, neither of which he seemed to notice. "I'm sure the right man will come along."
Looking at Malfoy's hand on her knee, Allison said, "You know, I think you just might be right."
Trying not to attract anyone's attention, Hermione pinched Malfoy's leg. He did not remove his hand. Instead, he turned and smiled at her. "Yes?"
She was going to kill him. But first they had to get out of there.
"Would you kids like something to eat?" Allison asked.
Hermione jumped to her feet. If they didn't leave now, they never would. "No! I mean, thanks, mum, but we just stopped by to get the car. I'm taking him to the mall for some muggle Christmas shopping."
No one else moved from their respective seats.
"That's nice, pumpkin. Draco, did Hermione mention we're going to King's College for Christmas Eve."
Ha. Her mother was in for a rude awakening. Hermione crossed her arms, smugly waiting for the disillusionment charm Malfoy must have cast on himself to wear off.
"No, Allison, I'm afraid she has not," he said.
Could Hermione wait until she was outside to kill him? She wasn't so sure anymore.
"Well, you simply must come. They have the most glorious choir, and the music is positively heavenly."
"It sounds delightful. I would love to join you. Thanks for inviting me."
Allison beamed. "No, thank you. Hermione was telling me that Harry and Ron will be bringing their girlfriends. Now everyone will have a date."
This was revolting. So that's exactly what Hermione did. Revolt. Without saying goodbye, she started walking toward the garage.
She could hear Malfoy bidding his adieus to her parents before he caught up with her. Unfortunately, she was not far enough away to miss her mother shout out, "You two have fun. And mind the mistletoe."
Not to be outdone, her father said, "Make sure you're back home before nine."
Hermione yanked open the garage door and got inside the vehicle. It was freezing.
Malfoy stood outside, peering at her through the window. Turning the ignition on, she put the heater on full blast, then rolled down the passenger-side window.
"Get in," she ordered, buckling her seatbelt.
Malfoy rapped his knuckle against the doorframe. "If you think I'm getting into this…thing-"
"It's called a car."
"Whatever it is, it's of questionable construction, and if you think I'm going to entrust my life to this box on wheels, you're daft."
Hermione wasn't in the mood to baby Malfoy. She just wanted to get out of there before her mother and father decided to join them.
"There are airbags and seatbelts and…fenders. You'll be perfectly safe. Now get in!"
Malfoy pursed his lips in displeasure. "Air and a scrap of material. How comforting."
Hermione dropped her head against the steering wheel, accidentally setting off the horn and scaring Malfoy, who startled with a jolt. Glancing up at his horrified face, she almost laughed.
"Just cast a few stabilizing charms if it bothers you so much. I guarantee you this is safer than any broom. At least if we crash, there is some kind of outer protection. And we could always apparate away before anything happened."
Malfoy folded his arms over his chest.
"Good grief. Just trust me, OK?"
Opening the door, he slid into the passenger seat. "The things I do for you," he muttered.
"Yes, yes, I know. I ask the world of you, and being around me is sheer torture. Now put your seat belt on. The mall's closing in an hour, so we need to hurry up."
Instead of buckling up, Malfoy began blowing out puffs of air, seemingly enchanted with watching the condensation curl and disappear. Probably thought he was some kind of dragon. Exasperated, Hermione reached across him, grabbing his seat belt.
The harness fumbled out of her fingers as his breath tickled against her cheek and ear. "Stop that," she glared at him. Naturally, he didn't, but she managed to snap his buckle into place.
"What are you? Eight years old?" she complained as she looked in the rear view mirror, carefully backing out into the driveway.
"Perhaps if it weren't so chilly in your car, I wouldn't be getting so distracted." He raised his hands, warding off the subarctic air that was blasting out of the vents and tumbling through his hair. "Are you trying to give me a cold?"
"The air will warm up once the engine does," she said bluntly, belatedly remembering to roll up Malfoy's window.
"Too long." He pulled out his wand, warming the atmosphere instantly. "And now I can take this thing off." He ripped off his scarf, then began rubbing his neck. "I think it gave me a rash."
Hermione concentrated on the road and getting to the mall in one piece.
Somehow managing to recline the chair without her help, he leaned back. Putting his arms behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. "Well, that was fun," he said.
"What?'
"Meeting your parents. If I had known they were so charming, I would have come sooner."
"Yeah, right."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him tilt his head to the side. She wasn't sure, but it felt like he was staring at her.
"I especially liked your mother," he said.
"And she liked you too," Hermione added, somewhat snidely.
"Unsurprising. She seems like an intelligent lady."
"She is." When she wasn't trying to set her up with Malfoy. "Both my parents are."
"You should listen to her."
Hermione laughed. "You're one to talk. You're always complaining about your mother pestering you about settling down, and yet I've never seen you go on one date."
"I prefer to work behind the scenes."
Shocked, Hermione looked over at him. "You're dating?!"
"Hermione!" Malfoy said, sitting up sharply in his chair. "Eyes on the road!"
Attention back on the street, she tried not to blush as he smirked beside her. It didn't help that the car was burning up. She clawed at her throat, trying to loosen her scarf.
"I never said I was dating. I'm just…sizing up my options."
Oh.
She didn't like the sound of that.
Ever the rational person, she tried to explain why she found that thought so disturbing. With Harry and Ron spending most of their free time with Ginny and Lavender, she supposed she had come to rely on Malfoy, to assume that he would always be there for her. He couldn't be if he was with another girl.
Hermione's chest tightened at the thought of having to give that up, which was an interesting reaction in itself. What did it mean? Could it really be that Malfoy was now her closest friend? She knew it was selfish to want him to remain single until she found someone for herself, but she wasn't ready to lose him to some other girl.
Now, that was a frightening thought. If he even had an inkling of how much he meant to her, she'd never hear the end of it.
"Don't worry, Hermione." His smile gleamed in the darkness. "I'll always have time for you."
"That's not…I don't care if you date someone. In fact, please do. I spend too much time with you as it is."
Why was she saying that? She didn't mean it.
"You don't mean that."
AH! Was he reading her mind? Harry had told her Malfoy was an Occlumens, but perhaps there was more. She wouldn't put it past him to be a Legilimens and not tell her.
"Besides, your mother seems to think we don't spend enough time together," he said,
Hermione groaned. 'Don't remind me. Look, if I apologize for that, will you not bring it up again? I have no idea where that came from. I told her we don't like each other in that way."
"No need to apologize. She can't help it that I'm handsome, responsible, intelligent, and nice. The ideal catch for any woman's daughter."
"You're hilarious too, by the way. Don't forget that."
"I think you're mom might have a point."
There was an odd tone in his voice that made Hermione grip the steering wheel tighter. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"You really should be dating more."
"You know how hard they work me at the Ministry. I barely have time to spend with you, let alone date."
"But how are you supposed to ever meet anyone if you're buried under mounds of work?"
"I don't need to date wizard after wizard to find out who's right for me. I know who I am and what kind of man would work well with me."
"No you don't. And I think if you did, you'd probably run away."
"You're wrong. When he comes along, I'll know. And then I'll do something about it."
"Hiding behind your desk in a quivering heap doesn't count."
"That's not what I'm going to do. I'm not a coward."
"Yes, I know, you're a Gryffindor. Blah blah blah. When it comes to things you understand, I agree with you. But I wager you know little about men, and they terrify you."
"Wrong again. Except for Ginny, my closest friends are men, and if anything, they're terrified of me." Darn straight they were!
With her attention divided between the road and the person next to her, she couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw Malfoy roll his eyes. "And if one of us asked you out? What would you do then?" he said.
"Well, if Ron or Harry did that, I'd yell at them and hex them, since they already have girlfriends."
"And if I did?"
"I don't know. It's not something I think about, because you'd never do that. Why are you asking me all these questions?"
It would be too much to expect that he would answer her. He was always so evasive. Perhaps she should take up Legilimency. Then she'd never have to talk to him. Just look into his eyes and get all the answers she wanted.
"You do realize that you don't view me or your other guy friends as real men, right?" he said.
"That's preposterous. Unlike you, I can tell the difference between a male and a female."
"Hermione, think about it. What you don't understand, you ignore or reclassify or change until it's something you are familiar with and can deal with. You've basically neutered me, so I can fit in one of your nice, manageable categories. I should be outraged." He had said this gently, as if he thought this information would hurt her. And it might have, if it weren't so categorically and comprehensively false.
"I liked Ron, remember. How do you explain that?"
"What did you do when it became apparent he liked you back? You ran away to Hogwarts and you kept him at arm's length."
"I didn't run away to Hogwarts. I wanted to continue my education. And I told you Ron and I wouldn't work."
"And you're right about that, but you're also a coward. Face it, Hermione, you're scared to put yourself out there, and you use your work or school or whatever cause of the week you're advocating as an excuse to stay closed off."
"You're so wrong, it's pointless to even argue with you about this," Hermione said.
Before he could reply, Hermione flipped on the radio. As she did every year, her mother had set it to the local station that only played holiday music during the month of December. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was coming to an end.
In her periphery, Malfoy dug his right hand into his hair, pulling at the blond strands. She had frustrated him. Good.
His voice still quiet, he said, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, most guys would find it charming, considering how in all other respects you're so damned intimidating."
If he wouldn't listen to reason, she wouldn't listen to him. Twisting the dial viciously, she sought to drown out his voice. How ironic that it was the strains of Silent Night that roared through the speakers.
"The sooner you admit that I'm right, you'll feel much better. I promise."
She began singing along with the lyrics. "…Love's pure light, Radiant beams from Thy holy face, With the dawn of-"
Malfoy turned the knob with a swift jerk, putting an end to her Christmas carol. "You're going to have to speak with me some time." His words sounded forced and clipped; he was upset. What reason did he have to be angry with her? He was the one calling her a chicken and an emasculator of men.
"Look, I understand this isn't something you want to hear, but if you would just listen, you'd see that I'm right."
Hermione turned to him and glared. Picking up her wand, she muttered, "Silencio."
The instant she cast the spell, she regretted it. Not because of the act itself; that was pretty harmless. No, it was the dangerous twinkle that seemed to spark in his gray eyes. But she wouldn't back down, because she was right. Swallowing her trepidation, she stared at the red lights of the car in front of her.
Only two more miles to go.
A few second later, she could see him out of the corner of her eye, waving his hands wildly in the air. Amateur. It was going to take more than that for her to stop ignoring him.
About half a mile later, she found her hand in Malfoy's grip.
Hermione hardened her heart. Unless he was going to apologize, she wasn't going to give him the time of day.
But he was more determined than she gave him credit for.
Her whole arm began tingling as his hand wrapped and unwrapped around her wrist, one long finger at a time.
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself not to react in any way. He was expecting her to, and she wouldn't let him win.
Only one more mile to go.
Every one of those 5, 280 feet was agony. Her nerves were on red alert, highly sensitized to every stupid little movement he made. Like when he began tracing tiny circles on the back of her hand. Or when he turned her fingers over and repeated the same action on the inside of her wrist. Or when he lifted her hand closer to his face.
The fine point of his nose dropped down, tracing the lines of her palm so lightly she couldn't even be sure he was actually touching her. His exhalations fanned out over her skin, sending shivers along the length of her spine.
Hermione's heart was racing. She had thought this was about gaining her attention, but it was more than that. He was trying to win their previous argument. She knew he was capable of fighting dirty, but this was low, even for him.
Malfoy flexed his fingers and with them hers, opening up her hand completely. Her palm was so close to his mouth, his breath was still warm as it fell on her.
He wouldn't dare!
His lips pressed against her palm told her that he had, in fact, dared.
The air caught in her throat, and for a second she couldn't breathe. It was like fire igniting in her lungs. Ripping her hand away, Hermione cradled it against her chest as if he had broken it.
As soon as she had parked the car and turned it off, she yanked the key out of the ignition and tried to get out of her seatbelt. The treacherous buckle wouldn't budge. After shaking it, she was on the verge of hexing it off, but it finally released. Scrambling out of the car, she glared at Malfoy, who was casually leaning on the roof of the car. "What are you doing?!" she nearly screamed.
Malfoy pointed to his throat, which was once again covered with her scarf.
Glancing to see if anyone was around, Hermione quietly hissed, "Finite."
Walking around the car towards her, he said, "Just proving my point."
"That proves nothing. You need both hands to drive, and you were distracting me. It's snowing, the streets are icy, and I needed all of my attention on the road. And look, here I am. Haven't run away yet. Haven't buried my nose in a work file. Though perhaps you're right about the emasculating bit. I'm sorely tempted to neuter you if you ever do anything like that again. And don't think I won't. I learned a hex in a personal defense class, and it's irreversible. So if you ever want to have Malfoy babies, you keep your hands to yourself."
"Alright. I'll admit I was wrong. You are perfectly capable of handling advances from the opposite sex." He held out his hand to her, possessing all the charm and grace of a prince. It wasn't fair. After all her blustering and yelling, not even one of his hairs seemed out of place. And that wasn't the worst of it.
He was right. She was scared.
"Truce?" he said, smiling down benignly at her.
"I really shouldn't forgive you," she said, scuffing her sneaker into the asphalt.
"I'm insufferable, I know. Mind if we take the insults inside? I think my toes are beginning to freeze."
Without so much as a 'by your leave' he took her hand and began dragging her through the parking lot to the mall entrance.
Together they walked together through the doors. Hermione was fighting the urge to squirm. It wasn't as if they had never held hands before. She'd even done it a few times earlier in the day, but never for this long. The platonic action didn't seem quite so platonic anymore.
They had entered near the food court, which, like Diagon Alley, was decorated for the upcoming holiday. Just ahead was a large pavilion, a wide, open expanse at the center of the mall. Draco suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing Hermione to bump into his back.
"What is that?"
Peering around his shoulder, she saw a long line of people standing, all of them waiting to see Santa Claus. The jolly old imposter was sitting on a large throne, flanked by teenagers dressed as his elves. The tile around them was covered with red carpet, and the whole area was decorated with large candy canes, reindeer, and twinkling Christmas trees. Off to the side was a small room designed to look like a gingerbread house. Kids were darting in and out of it, having their pictures taken by their doting parents.
Hermione had actually come to the mall with the intent of introducing Malfoy to this particular muggle tradition, but she had completely forgotten about it until now. Thankful for the distraction, she pulled Malfoy towards it.
"That is Santa's Village, and you are going to tell him what you want for Christmas."
"And if I don't want to?"
"Consider it your Christmas gift to me."
They reached the end of the line, and when Hermione asked one of the nearby elves how long the wait was, she was informed they had another thirty minutes or so.
"I'm hungry. I'll get us something to eat." Extracting her hand from his, she said, "Be right back."
Once she was out of sight, she slowed her walk, eventually ambling to a pretzel shop as she tried to sort out her feelings. She decided that if Malfoy kept acting strangely, she would simply tell him he was right and that she didn't appreciate him knowingly making her uncomfortable just to prove his point. Once that was out in the open, things would go back to normal. Purchasing two twists, she headed back to Santa's Village and to Malfoy, good will toward a certain man completely restored.
When she returned, Malfoy was talking to a couple of women in line. One was blonde, the other brunette, and they both looked to be about her age, give or take a year. They were also most definitely flirting with her friend. And he was talking back with them, which was a sight in itself. The only muggles she had willingly seen him converse with were her parents and that had just happened today.
She instantly disliked them. They were the kind of girls that Ron would drool over, the kind of girls who would wear miniskirts in the middle of winter. As if low-cut v-neck sweaters, skinny scarves, and a pair of sheepskin boots would make up for an utter lack of clothing on their legs. Why was it that guys couldn't see through that? Once again, she was going to have to come to the rescue, just as she had so many times in the past with Ron and Harry.
She had thought Malfoy knew better.
Walking towards the group, she went underneath the rope barricade, pretzels in hand.
She waited for Malfoy to turn around and notice her, but he seemed engrossed in his conversation with the two…ladies. As she listened, she could hardly understand why.
The blonde one was leaning close to Malfoy, talking animatedly. "Yeah, like I was telling Krissy, Luxe is the place to go clubbing. They always have the best DJs, and the bar is wonderful. Really great selection."
Krissy, the brunette, giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "We're actually going there later tonight. You should come check it out with us."
"I'll think about it if I don't have any other plans," Malfoy answered.
Blondie leaned in, putting her hand on his arm. "Forget your plans. Come on, Draco. You only live once."
Having heard enough, Hermione cleared her throat. Malfoy turned around. Finally. "Hey, Hermione."
She held out a pretzel to him, and he took it. "Thanks. I just met these two ladies in line." Indicating the dark haired one, he said, "Hermione, this is Krissy and-"
"I'm Michelle," the blonde said, holding out her hand.
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, shaking Michelle's perfectly manicured fingers.
"So are you and Draco dating?" Krissy asked.
Malfoy laughed, "What? Me and Hermione? No. We're just friends."
That seemed to set the bimbos at ease. "Oh, well, she can come along if she wants."
"Sorry, we can't make it," Hermione said, a tight smile on her face. "We have plans."
"Well, if you change your mind…" Krissy pulled a pen out of her purse and took Malfoy's hand. "Here's my cell number."
Like Malfoy knew how to operate a cell phone. Unable to maintain a friendly attitude, Hermione faced the front of the line and took a really big bite out of her pretzel, so she wouldn't say anything stupid.
Thankfully, Malfoy had finished his conversation with Krissy and Michelle, so she didn't have to listen to any more discussions about the bestest ever clubs with their cool, cool music and really cheap alcohol for equally cheap girls.
"So what plans do we have after this?" he asked.
Huh? Right. Plans. She hadn't thought of that. Thankfully she was still working on that huge piece of pretzel, so it gave her a second to conjure an answer. Swallowing her bite, she said, "A movie."
"Which one?"
Um…
"We'll pick once we're back at my apartment."
"You sure you don't want to go to this club? It sounds like it could be fun."
"I'm not a clubbing kind of girl, but if you want to go, feel free." It didn't matter to her. Nope. Not one bit.
Malfoy ruffled the top of her hair, which he knew she hated. "I would only go if you went."
Take that, Krissy and Michelle! Not every guy out there was a complete and utter idiot! Hermione was so happy to discover that, she almost hugged Malfoy.
Happily munching on her pretzel, the time seemed to fly. Pretty soon, they were at the front of the line. One of the elves led them over to Santa, and Malfoy looked at Hermione expectantly.
He must not have been watching the eleven billion people that went before them. "You're supposed to sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas."
Realizing that Malfoy was going to do no such thing, Hermione pulled him forward.
"Come on, son. I don't bite," the man spoke in a cheerful baritone, perfectly befitting a mall Santa Claus.
When Malfoy still didn't move, Hermione took the initiative of sitting on one of Santa's knees. Malfoy stood to the side, gripping her hand tightly.
"So, little lady, is your boyfriend a mute?" Santa asked, smiling kindly at her.
"No, just difficult, and he's not my boyfriend."
"Well, I can guess what he'll be asking for this Christmas." Santa looked up at Malfoy, winking. "If you're real good, I might be able to throw in some mistletoe. Ho ho ho."
Malfoy squeezed her hand even tighter. Perhaps this was not a good idea. "Could we just take the picture please?" she asked the elf with the camera.
"Alright, on the count of three say cheese. 1. 2. 3."
"Cheese," Hermione said. Alone.
"Now you two try to be good. Naughty children don't get anything for Christmas."
"We'll try," Hermione mindlessly answered, walking toward the elf. He handed her the Polaroid, in exchange for her five pounds.
As they walked away, Hermione fanned the picture, waiting for the image to appear.
"What was that thing?" Malfoy asked.
"Santa?"
"No, I know who that was supposed to be. I'm talking about the one who handed you the picture."
"That was an elf."
Malfoy turned around to look again and laughed. "If muggles knew how ugly real elves were, I doubt they would include them in their Christmas festivities. And what's with those pointy shoes?"
The image finally showed up. Everything was perfect except, "Why aren't you smiling?" Hermione asked.
"I had no reason to."
Hermione hit him with the picture, laughing. "You spoil sport. You're lucky I don't make us go back there and take another picture."
Malfoy snatched the picture from her and examined it. "I don't see why you're complaining. I look perfectly fine."
"Except you're not smiling."
"I don't smile in pictures. You know that."
Hermione tried to get the picture back, but he held it behind him, just past her reach.
"Well, you should," she said, still trying to reclaim the photo, "Everyone looks better smiling."
Malfoy scoffed, looking at the picture once more. "Hardly. I happen to think I look distinguished. I suppose we'll just have to ask your mother what she thinks."
"We are not showing that to my mom!" It would only encourage her, and her mother needed none of that.
"Of course we are. I'm sure she'll love it." Tucking the picture into his back pocket, he asked, "Where to next?"
"The mall's closing in five minutes. We should just head back. And you are not showing that to her."
"You let me pick tonight's movie, and we have a deal."
"Fine, but no horror movies. I hate those." It didn't matter that she had taken on monsters much scarier than anything a movie could depict. She hated all the blood and guts, and whenever they watched a movie like that, she always ended up with her face buried in his shoulder and her fingers gripping his as if her life depended on it.
"That wasn't part of the deal. Now come along. I'm feeling like vampires tonight."
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" she asked, hopefully.
"No. The problem with movies like that is they're too unrealistic. Might as well have vampires that sparkle. I'm thinking something along the lines of Blade. They're coming out with a sequel soon."
"I thought you weren't going to watch any more muggle movies."
"I'm not going to watch any more of your muggle movies. Really, Hermione, I'm beginning to think you don't listen to a word I say."
With a groan, Hermione followed Malfoy into what was sure to be a night full of screaming and hiding her face behind her hands.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review. =D