Disclaimer: The characters belong to J. K. Rowling.
A/N: As promised, my fortnightly update! Fourteen days exactly. I admit, I've been putting off writing this chapter because I just wasn't sure how much to convey but now that it's done, I'm pretty pleased with it. I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be and I'm not willing to even guess because a lot of my plots have a tendency to run long to even my own plans and estimations, so it's best to just wait and see.
As for other questions...yes! Blaise is going to find someone. You sort of meet her in this chapter...their relationship is going to be a funny one if I can find enough room in Hermione and Draco's story to elaborate. Pansy and Harry are adorable together, Dimitri is worrying and shall be more worrying in future chapters, and the 2 brat Weasleys might or might not be redeemed, depending on mood.
Happy Easter, everyone! Even if you don't subscribe to the religious holiday, then celebrate the giving and receiving (largely receiving) of chocolate which I believe is a global language.
Mrs. Malone nodded her head seriously as she shuffled stacks of parchment in search of a particular document.
"It would certainly be of benefit to the children. They do long to leave and an excursion to see Hogwarts would certainly motivate some of them to aspire to better grades. Some of the boys are such troublemakers."
"Slytherins in the making, I'm sure." Draco murmured under his breath as he glanced up at the housekeeper from behind his reading glasses. The silver frames slid precariously down the bridge of his nose as he stared at the rows and columns of numbers on the papers in his hand detailing the monthly expenditure of the orphanage; a measly sum by Draco's standards, but enough to make a good life for the children.
The serious pair sat in a sparsely decorated office tucked away in an obscure corner of the new building, away from the noise and bustle of exuberant kids going about their everyday business so that the residents were afforded an ounce of peace.
As Draco's eyes scanned the papers again, ensuring that every calculation was accurate, his mind wandered to his fiancée, whom he had left under the excited care of the children, who were all eager curiosity over Draco's apparent attachment to her. They had nearly shouted their questions as they asked Hermione if she were truly marrying Drake, as many of the children preferred to call him.
Hermione had laughed rather nervously and allowed herself to be towed bodily away from him into the mess of a playroom just beyond the front entrance. Draco had considered following but Mrs. Malone had pulled him aside for their monthly briefing.
The shock and disbelief on Hermione's face was nearly priceless and a smile curled his lips even as he fought it; he had thrown her off balance. Good, he had wanted to do just that.
"Thinking about the miss aren't you, boy?" Mrs. Malone interrupted his thoughts.
Draco dropped the papers into a pile casually, plucking the glasses from his face and folding them neatly before he looked up. "What makes you say that?"
The older woman snorted none too delicately, moving her considerable weight about in the armchair.
"You're smiling like a green boy with his first crush." She said in a knowing tone.
Though a slight pink tinged his cheeks, Draco shrugged nonchalantly and stood, brushing at the invisible creases in his dark jeans.
He didn't deign to reply to the comment, instead he said: "The finances seem to be in order; meticulous as always Jenny."
The older woman clucked at the praise and waved him off. "You could hire a man for such administrative nonsense, boy, there's no need to do it yourself."
Draco shook his head. "No, no, this orphanage is a personal endeavour of mine and I enjoy keeping an eye on it."
"It certainly is a wonderful quality to add to your merit list. Your young lady must certainly be very impressed." An eyebrow rose sardonically as Draco answered her with a goofy grin.
"She likes me well enough."
The housekeeper huffed slightly and bustled out of the office leaving Draco to trail laughingly in her wake. He had always liked Mrs. Malone's straight forward ways; she didn't simper or coddle and she was certainly a fine example for the children.
When they reached the end of the corridor, she turned towards right, veering towards the kitchen as she shooed him up the stairs.
"Go find your young lady, don't let her out of your sight, you hear me." She wagged a stern finger at him.
"Hermione would not leave me." Draco replied confidently, plans swirling through his mind.
"One never knows. And since you've displayed a rare and unexpected example of taste, I won't have you ruining it!"
Draco laughed, not taking any offence from the housekeeper's brazenness. It was oddly refreshing. "Duly noted, Jenny."
Racing up the stairs two at a time, Draco arrived in the receiving hall only to be greeted by absolute silence. Not a single child was to be seen and the silence echoed in his ears. Tilting his head curiously, he took a cursory look around and checked all the doors on the bottom floor to no avail, not a soul was to be found.
After bounding up another flight of stairs, Draco was finally greeted by the sight of a young girl crossing the hallway, dragging behind her a rather bedraggled looking teddy bear which had clearly seen better days. Thumb in mouth, toddling precariously, she stopped in front of him and instantly broke into an adorable gape toothed smile, dropping the bear as she latched herself to his legs.
"Drake!" She whispered loudly.
Following her lead, Draco leant down and whispered to her theatrically. "Beatrice!"
She giggled delightedly as she released his legs, which was just as well consider she reached only just above his knees and rather hindered Draco's movements.
"What's going on, sweet pea?" He reverted to his normal tone, his voice seemingly loud in the quiet corridor.
The girl scrunched her brow and raised a finger to her lips dramatically. "Shhh! It's naptime for Hermie!"
Draco's eyebrows shot to his hairline as Beatrice took his hand. "Naptime?"
The little girl nodded emphatically as she towed him towards a door that stood slightly ajar. Bright sunshine flooded through and Draco was insistently pushed through by a tiny pair of hands resting ticklishly behind his knees; and there, surrounded by a crowd of little prostrate figures, was Hermione, eyes closed and lips frowning, exhaustion written clearly across all her features.
Draco looked back at the little child grinning manically at him. "What have you little monsters done to my fiancée?"
Beatrice giggled, showing the large gaps between her teeth as her eyes sparkled mischievously.
"We only played! Then Hermie read us all a story…and then it was naptime!"
"Clearly." Draco looked back and assuredly, Hermione clutched a picture book in her arms as she lay, dozing on the thickly carpeted floor. Taking a quick glance at his watch, Draco noted that he had left her alone for a few hours with nearly forty sugar crazed kids with no other carers in sight.
Stepping forward, Draco skirted around a dozen carelessly flung limbs to reach the grown woman sleeping among the fray. Kneeling, Draco scooped up her prone form, watching as she stirred and settled back into a gentle sort of slumber. Smiling as he whispered goodbye to a frantically waving Beatrice, Draco descended the stairs and quickly left the sleeping orphanage, knowing the moody little monsters would soon wake from their naps, hungry and grumpy from sugar hangovers. Mrs. Malone could deal with that.
Shaking his head, Draco couldn't help the warm bubble of affection which settled in his chest as he watched her sleep. This woman was a bloody contradiction; exuberance one minute, exhaustion the next.
Groggily nursing a cup of coffee, Hermione leant heavily against the table top at the cosy little café in which Malfoy had decided to stop and wake her. The strong aroma stung her nose and as she took a tentative sip, the bitter substance burned an unpleasant path down her throat.
She had tried several times to initiate a conversation but Draco seemed to be oddly guarded about his charitable affairs. Any mention of the orphanage only garnered an awkward shrug without so much as a glance up from whatever he was so engrossed in. Hermione could hardly reconcile herself to this new found side of Malfoy. Yes, she had agreed to give him a chance but this revelation must surely be a leap off a cliff's edge rather than the baby steps Hermione had intended.
This concept of Draco being…nice…was completely foreign…and oddly unsettling.
Frowning, she pushed aside her coffee, and glanced up at the blond reading the muggle newspaper opposite her.
"I didn't know you were interested in muggle affairs." She tried; her tone guarded.
Draco looked up at last; the silver framed glasses perched once more on the bridge of his nose. "We live on the same planet, what concerns them, concerns me too. Global warming, the loss of our natural resources…the invention of the iPhone…it's all terribly relevant, wouldn't you say?"
Hermione couldn't fight the smile which rose to her face. The charming little half-smile on his face was irresistible.
"Do you even know what an iPhone is? Or have you simply plucked that name out for show?"
Draco awarded her with an offended look.
"I'll have you know, I have shares in Apple." Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a black and silver device, handing it to her nonchalantly. "And I believe in the product."
Laughing with slight bewilderment, Hermione took the muggle phone from him. It seemed disturbingly surreal, taking a cell phone from Draco Malfoy but there he was, sitting across the table from her, calmly reading about the current news and events as if he had belonged to this world all along.
"There's no one in your contacts." Hermione noted as she pried through the fascinating device.
Draco shrugged, allowing himself a slight deprecating smile. "I'm afraid none of my acquaintances are quite as forward thinking as I am. Blaise is rather scared of his and refuses to turn it on."
This surprised a bout of laughter from Hermione as she tried to press her lips together, her mirth attracting the attention of many others in the café.
"I don't suppose you would give me your number?" Draco tilted his head, lowering the newspaper onto the table and stealing a sip of her discarded coffee. "Ugh…this stuff is terrible."
Pushing aside the offending beverage, Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't own one."
It was his turn to laugh. "You mean to say that you, Hermione Granger, muggleborn extraordinaire, doesn't own such an essentially token device?"
Pitching her crushed her napkin at his head; Hermione childishly poked her tongue out at him. "I've never needed one and you obviously don't either."
Shrugging, Draco took back the offered iPhone, tucking it neatly into his pocket as she scowled.
"I don't but I like to be the first to have everything. Malfoy Enterprises is going to be the first to introduce the wizarding world to the joys of telecommunication next month. When these beauties become all the rage, I can happily say that I was the trend-setter."
Hermione shook her head disbelievingly.
"Do you really think that the wizarding world would take to such a trend? We're an old, stubborn bunch, set in our ways, anything new is considered rather gauche."
Draco shook his head in mock disappointment, his fingers intertwined as he leant forward as if he were about to share a very important secret.
"They'll love it."
"Is that so?" Hermione favoured him with a smirk; obligingly playing along.
"Oh yes. Would you like to know why darling?"
"Why?"
His voice descended into a hushed whisper as he crooked a finger, gesturing for her to lean closer so that he could whisper in her ear. "Because I'll tell them to love it."
Oh this was rich. Hermione let out a peal of laughter and shook her head.
"Really, now; is that so?"
Draco nodded his head; mockingly serious. "Yes. Mother use to play this game all the time with the pureblood socialites; she would declare that a certain style, colour or accessory was the height of fashion and the next week every woman would have a robe or handbag which fit the exact description. The power of the Malfoy name, don't you know?"
His face lit from within as he continued his story. "I will never forget the summer of my eighth birthday; mother had been rather put out that Carrabelle Parkinson had shown up to my party almost as resplendent as she was, so she put about that orange was all the rage in wizarding Paris that summer." Hermione watched in fascination as his lips twitched mirthfully as he lost himself in the memory. "The next time Carrabelle visited us, she was wearing the most atrocious orange outfit. Mother nearly laughed in her face when she saw; thankfully, Pansy was born with a little more sense than to follow blindly in a Malfoys stead."
She shook her head; amused that the cool blonde society image she had almost always associated with Narcissa Malfoy didn't quite fit the real woman.
"It sounds like your mother had a brilliant sense of humour."
Draco's smile was fond and reminiscent. "She did. And she had a wonderfully bright spirit too." The smile faded. "Father never could manage to beat it all out of her; though I suppose he succeeded in snuffing out that light in the end anyway."
Having heard about how Narcissa Malfoy had died, Hermione's smile slid from her lips as she debated whether she should comfort Draco or not. He seemed to be lost in his own world, somewhere filled with remorse and self recrimination and guilt.
"I'm sure you were the one who kept her sane."
The haunted silver eyes landed on her. "Perhaps. Her faith in me never wavered; even after father began to fill my head with ideas, leading me down the dark path with stories of glory and pride." He shook his head angrily. "Merlin, he was a bastard."
Hermione bit her lip, an indefinable sensation moving through her chest as she reached out a tentative hand and laid it on his forearm.
His eyes flashed up, the liquid gaze hardening into gunmetal grey. "I won't ever do that to you Hermione. I'm not Lucius…I'll never lay a violent hand on you or our children."
Her hand slipped away as she blinked rapidly to dispel the burning sensation behind her lids.
"I know, Draco." She cleared her throat uncomfortably, unable to fully meet his burning stare until he blinked, breaking the spell and allowing the normal noise of the city to flood back into the little world they had created between them at that table. Until that moment, Hermione hadn't even been aware of the silent intensity surrounding them.
"Too serious." Hermione heard him mutter under his breath before he mustered up a somewhat forced smile as he stood, throwing down a few bills of muggle currency and helping her stand from the booth. Escorting her out the door, Hermione glanced back to see the waiter picking up several notes of currency and staring bewilderedly after them.
"Draco…did you just tip them a hundred pounds?"
He answered with a smile and said no more, simply leading her to an empty park across the street. There, he sat her down on a park bench and joined her, pressing close as she squinted into the glaring light of the setting sun.
As they silently watched the London skies turn from orange to red to purple to a deep calming blue, Hermione revelled in the twilight, observing the passing of another day into night. She didn't seek to fill the silence as it stretched and she was glad Malfoy didn't either. It was nice to sit with someone who could appreciate the slow passing of something as ordinary as another typical day.
When at last, the street lamps flickered on, bathing them both in harsh artificial white light, Draco spoke, quietly, absently, as if he were not quite sure what to say or why he was saying it. "You can't see the stars here. I don't know how the muggles stand it."
"We're not all blessed with sprawling mansions in Wiltshire."
Draco's smile was boyish and smug. Malfoy was back.
"No…poor sods. They have to resort to sleeping in shanties to see the stars."
Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "I assume you mean camping tents."
"Yes. You have no idea how many bloody muggles have tried to breach our wards to set up house on Malfoy land."
"Tragic, Malfoy." Hermione responded dryly.
"Truly, it is." Draco replied innocently as he wrapped an arm about her waist. "Peasants. I don't know how they live."
Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. What century did this man live in? Who even used the word 'peasants' anymore, save for the truly snobbish aristocracy? As if he had read her mind, Draco turned towards her and raised an eyebrow.
"The social order must be preserved, my love, and the sooner you marry into the Malfoy dynasty the sooner you can leave your peasant roots behind."
She laughed and smacked him playfully, knowing full well that he wasn't serious. He returned her smile with one of his own, the tensions and arguments between them temporarily set aside as they shared a moment of peace.
"So…" He began conversationally. "Does this count as our first date?"
Hermione shrugged uncomfortably, a slight lifting of her shoulders which dislodged the arm he had slung around her shoulders. Draco shifted back, a moment later, encompassing her in a tighter grip, breathing quietly, letting his breath brush her cool skin. She was sorely tempted to fidget but instead she mustered a weak laugh and retorted: "First dates usually involve dinner or something like that, not a trip to an orphanage."
She felt him shrug casually beside her as he wrapped another arm around her waist, pulling her bodily closer.
"Malfoys don't follow convention. When grandfather Abraxas was courting my grandmother, he showed her the dungeons below Malfoy manor and told her that if their children ever misbehaved, that's where he would keep them so that she would never have to tell them to eat their vegetables twice. I suspect that's how father turned out the way he did."
Hermione laughed out loud as he nuzzled the side of her neck. Oddly enough, she found herself leaning into him, tilting her head to give him better access.
"Nonsense." She muttered. "I can't believe that even you Malfoys are that twisted."
Draco pulled away slightly and gave her an offended look. "It's true. It's all in Grandmother's diary. You can read it for yourself when I take you to the Malfoy libraries after we're married."
Pathetic as it was, Hermione felt a thrill race up her spine as he said 'after we're married'. That certainty and conviction was damn near enviable. How could he be so certain that everything would simply work out like that?
Her thoughts were soon ceased as she felt the brush of his lips on the side of her neck and the familiar rush of heat engulfed her. Turning tentatively, she met his gaze, the silver orbs framed by sweeping, pale lashes which made his gaze slightly ethereal.
Caught, Hermione found herself leaning forward, her hand inching up to brush his slowly rising chest. She felt Draco stop breathing, his chest stilling beneath her fingers as he waited for an indefinable something.
With her heart pounding in her chest, she closed the last few inches between their lips and pressed soft flesh to flesh. Unlike their previous kisses, there was no rush, no urgency in the gesture. It was a moment of pure sensation as her gasping breaths feathered across his lips, misting and cooling between them as she leant in for another kiss equally as gentle as the one before.
His lips were cool and smooth against hers; soft and pliable, giving as she retreated and receiving as she caressed. Slowly, his lips parted, releasing a shuddering breath as he leant forward and captured her in a wrenching kiss.
For several eternal moments, they stayed connected, unmoving, and breathless as the world continued around them; mated and devoted solely to each other.
Cursing exuberantly and creatively under his breath, Blaise detached himself from the cloying grip of the blonde he had met for lunch and eagerly said goodbye. She had been so promising on paper; blond hair and blue eyes with a feminine disposition that came across loud and clear even on paper. What the file hadn't told him was that she didn't have two brain cells to rub together and a voice that could liquefy stone.
If he stayed with her a minute longer, his eardrums would surely have burst, not to mention his brain out of pure boredom.
Several couples strolled past him, eyeing him dubiously as he continued to scowl viciously. Damn them and all their happiness, Blaise grumbled, sorely tempted to shake his fist at them simply for having it so easy. They didn't have to marry virtual strangers within a year and spawn.
He should've just stayed in Italy…all those lovely willing ladies, eager and happy to jump when he told them to. He had planned to be a bachelor and sow his wild oats for a few more decades to come but no…the moment he step foot back in England, the parson's noose was looped around his neck, a less than subtle threat from the ministry.
The parson's noose, Blaise snorted, what a thoroughly muggle expression, he thought somewhat disgusted with himself. So busy was he in chiding himself that he didn't notice a rather harried looking female heading his way, buried behind the stacks of paper she was juggling.
"Holy Merlin in hell!" She yelled as Blaise slammed bodily into her, sending the parchments flying every which way. "What do you think you're doing?!"
Already irritable from the date, Blaise was in no mood to be polite but he swallowed the unpleasant rejoinder which rose to the tip of his tongue and inclined his head apologetically.
"Sorry." Insincere! His mind screamed at him. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Well duh!" She threw up her hands in frustration. Thankfully most of her papers seemed to be neatly tied with ribbons and largely remained in the neat stacks in which she had organised them. As she bent to pick them up, Blaise got a good look at the top of her head.
Black hair.
Blaise preferred blondes.
A neat bob of black hair, in fact. Cut in an efficient but fashionable manner, barely brushing her shoulders. Very professional.
Blaise preferred long hair, much more feminine.
She straightened, giving him a clear frontal view of a round pixyish face, button nose and dark eyes.
Asian, he thought instantly.
Blaise preferred European. Short too, couldn't be many inches above five feet, he thought depreciatingly, no legs to speak of.
She bared her teeth, flashing a set of straight white teeth at him as she brushed off his attempts to help with her papers.
"Don't bother! Those are confidential patient files, anyway." Straightforward and career oriented. God! Why couldn't he have bumped into a woman who was more his type?
"Sorry for trying to help!" Blaise sneered, the polite façade fading from his mind in an instant.
A flash of temper lit her dark brown eyes as she gathered all the files under her arm impatiently.
"You want to help? Well then! Maybe you should grow a third eye to watch for the road because quite obviously the two your have now aren't working properly. Git!" She huffed and stomped solidly on his foot before stalking away, leaving Blaise howling in pain in the middle of magical London.
When his eyes finally stopped watering from the pain, Blaise limped to the nearest lamppost and leant heavily on it so he could take his weight off his injured foot. God! What was her problem?!
Inconspicuously, Blaise scanned his surroundings and found no idiotic audience to share in the spectacle and sighed in relief. Damn, for someone so small, she packed a hell of a punch…or stomp, as the case would have it.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to pitch away from the metal support and spin, apparating away with a loud pop, landing in an ungraceful heap on his own doorstep. Cursing loudly, Blaise pulled himself to his feet as he clung to the double doors which led into his mansion. The handle gave under the pressure of his hand unexpectedly however and unprepared and unbalanced as he was, Blaise fell forward as the door swung inwards.
With an inexplicable splash, he landed in his entrance hall, spluttering and coughing as he tried to clear his mouth of the water he had unexpectedly engulfed.
"What the hell?!" he bellowed loudly.
"Oh! Master Zabini, you have returned. I was just about to come retrieve you."
Blaise sat up, his slacks soaked through from the puddle of water on the floor. No. Puddle wasn't a good description…a lake more like. His entire entrance hall had turned into a bloody freaking lake. He looked up slowly at his human major-domo, his eyes narrowed as his temper reached a perilous boiling point.
"What happened here?" He managed to force out.
The man eyed him dispassionately as he reached down to help Blaise off the floor. "I'm afraid that during your exile…"
"Absence." Blaise corrected through clenched teeth.
"Of course. Absence." The man corrected himself, deadpanned. "During your absence, the manor was much neglected and the gnomes took up residence in the plumbing and…well…you see the results before you." He gestured to the shallow pool of water.
"Gnomes." Blaise said disbelievingly.
"Everything is salvageable, sir. We have ensured that all your furniture and artworks have been removed to the upper levels of the house and…"
Throwing up his hands in pure aggravation, Blaise was sorely tempted to burst into hysterical laughter. Of course! The day just got better and better!
"Fine!" He said. "Fine, whatever! Please have the repairs done, Cain. I'll be at Malfoy's if you need to reach me."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that...after reading it over again while I was editing for the ff net site, I think there are a few notable moments in there.
Hmm...I rather liked that kiss...it was...different...wouldn't you say?
Twilight to Midnight
