so, who did you guess was the 'mystery speaker' of the last part of last chapter: Draco or Harry? Well, you'll soon find out!
Another sweet and sensual chapter-plus some parts of plot that will come in to play later on-for you!
I really loved writing this one!
Lyrics used are from the songs below; the songs are all from 1997 or before.
* Lyrics from When I See You Smile, by Uncle Sam (Bad English remake)
** Lyrics from Now and Forever, by Richard Marx
*** Lyrics from You Are The Inspiration, by Chicago
****** Lyrics from Unchained Melody, by The Righteous Brothers
**** Lyrics from To Love You More, by Celine Dion
***** Lyrics from It's Your Love, by Tim McGraw
To Love You More
Chapter 11
-April 21, 1997 (continued)
Draco was waiting for Hermione beside the wall that concealed the secret entrance to the Room of Requirement. However, tonight he would not be requiring the Room of Hidden Things; tonight was special.
He'd dismissed the two Slytherin First Year girls (who were really Crabbe and Goyle under the effects of Polyjuice) ten minutes before Hermione was due to arrive. He'd then waited twenty minutes after the agreed upon meeting time, until he could wait no longer. He had something important to tell Hermione, he had a special surprise waiting, and he was worried about her wandering the corridors alone. Even though he knew she'd Disillusion herself, he was still concerned when she was late.
He'd gone in search of her, taking the route that he knew she'd take (the shortest one) from Gryffindor Tower to the Room. Turning the corner very near the Gryffindor dormitory entrance, he'd found her—with Potter. Luckily for Draco, he was already Disillusioned, and so he'd moved closer to his girlfriend and her best friend. Hermione had looked flushed and flustered. From what he could see and hear, he hadn't come upon them at the beginning of their conversation.
He'd wanted to curse Potter on the spot when he'd seen him hugging Hermione—mercifully, though, he'd kept his head. Hermione would be furious if he did any such thing to her precious Potter, and he would only be jeopardizing their relationship by acting rashly. Instead, he'd balled up his fists, his nails digging into his pale, bony palms, and had watched until the little corridor conversation ended. When it had, he'd run back to the Room. He'd been out of breath and his heart had raced for more than just the physical exertion. He wished that he hadn't heard and seen what he had. He'd been so confident about their date tonight, but now he was a mess. Now he had doubts. The boyish excitement he'd felt earlier (which had been great enough to overcome his extreme disappointment, frustration, and anxiety over the still-broken Vanishing Cabinet) had been doused upon seeing Hermione—his girl—in the arms of Potter (of all the wizards!).
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As Hermione had taken her time in heading to the Room, Draco's breathing was back to normal when she arrived. He was still trying—hard—to reign in his anger and jealousy, though, as Hermione removed the Disillusionment Charm. She gave him a brilliant grin, which would have had him melting into a puddle on the floor if he'd been in a better mood. He thought that she looked prettier than usual; realizing that she had put in extra effort for their date (although he thought that her choice of attire was nothing to write home about) gave him a glimmer of hope that she did, in fact, want him and not Potter.
Unless she hadn't known that Potter wants her before their little chat in the corridor, and now that she does know she will chuck me, he thought, dejected once more.
He must have had a strange expression on his face, because Hermione's smiling one had changed.
"Draco," she whispered, looking around the corridor to make sure they were alone before becoming too familiar with him in a public space. "Is something wrong?"
He snapped out of it, and shook his head, trying to rid it of the doubt. "Let's get inside, first," he whispered back, walking quickly to ask the Room for what he required.
When the door appeared, Draco pulled it open for Hermione and she nodded and smiled her thanks. "Such a gentleman," she said with a teasing lit to her voice. Draco gave her a weak smile and firmly closed the door behind him. He looked over what the Room had provided; he was pleased. They stood in a replica of part of his family's property. A table was set for two under a metal pergola, designed in the Gothic style, covered with vines. The 'sky' was dark and floating paper lanterns provided light to the table. All around them were tall hedges, perfectly manicured and in which charmed lightning bugs hovered.
Hermione was still admiring the setting when Draco hollered, "Kreacher!" Hermione startled at the noise and then paled, her shocked expression going unnoticed by Draco as she made to hide herself; Harry's house elf seeing her with Draco was not on her 'Top Ten List of Things to Discuss With Harry.' She'd barely had time to hide herself behind a hedge when a 'pop' announced Kreacher's arrival. Hermione peeked out from behind the hedge as Kreacher bowed low to Draco. She rolled her eyes before a certain amount of fear and doubt sprung into Hermione's mind as she watched and waited for what would come next; an elf that hated her existence associating with the boy she thought she loved did not inspire confidence.
Draco nodded a greeting to the elf. "I see that you cleaned up, as I asked," he said as his hand gestured, somewhat arrogantly, Hermione admitted, to Kreacher. "Isn't this better?" He crossed his arms over his chest superciliously.
The elf did look cleaner than Hermione had ever seen him; he had apparently bathed and washed his tiny tea-towel-toga-like garment. Hermione was impressed; no one in the time Hermione had know Kreacher had been able to convince him to clean up.
Kreacher bowed again (and Hermione rolled her eyes again) and said in his gravelly voice, "Young Master Black was correct, of course, he was. Thanks you for allowing Kreacher to serve the Ancient and Most—"
"Noble House of Black," mimicked Hermione, letting her annoyance with the sycophantic elf's mantra get the better of her. She winced when she heard Draco chuckle.
"Hermione? Have something that you'd like to share?" he said in the tone he adopted when he was playfully pretending to be snobbish. Realizing she was caught, she came out from behind the shrubbery, affecting a prim demeanor as she looked Kreacher in the face, her hand wrapped around her wand.
Kreacher scowled when he recognized that the person whom his 'Young Master Black' had referred to (in their preparations for tonight) as his 'lady' was Hermione Granger, the 'Mudblood filth.' Draco, not being accustomed to Kreacher and his way of speaking, was ill prepared for what the elf had to say next.
"Harry Potter's Mudblood friend, the—"
"Kreacher!" Draco barked harshly with surprised eyes. "Do not call Hermione that or I'll order you to punish yourself."
"Draco!" Hermione gasped.
In surprise, Draco's head turned sharply at Hermione's reprimand. He raised a single brow at her.
What happened to defending the honor of one's lady? he thought.
"If you treat him like that then this date is over," Hermione warned.
Of course my sweet, righteous, Muggleborn girlfriend would be a champion for house elves—even ones that insult her, apparently, he thought sarcastically before he had the grace to look ashamed. "My apologies, Mione," he said quietly.
Hermione nodded and, after waiting expectantly for what didn't come, she raised her brows and nudged her head in Kreacher's direction. Draco sighed petulantly (and in spite of herself, Hermione's lip twitched).
"Kreacher, I apologize for threatening you—however…." He paused for dramatic effect while raising a finger to shake at the elf, "do not call her that vile name! Never again. You may refer to her as Miss Granger, or Mistress Hermione, or…." Draco paused again in thought before smirking playfully at Hermione and winking, his tone going from dead serious to mischievous with one bat of his eyelids, "or….Master's Lady."
Hermione's stomach quivered pleasantly at the idea that she was Draco's lady, and she struggled to hide a grin. At the look of resignation on Kreacher's face and at Draco's mirthful expression, she giggled and shot Kreacher a satisfied expression. After Kreacher bowed again to Draco with a 'Yes, Master Draco,' she couldn't help but think ruefully, That bow didn't seem so abhorrent.
"Kreacher, take Miss Granger's jacket (repulsive colors, by the way, Hermione) and warm it up around here, would you?"
Kreacher obediently snapped his fingers, and it was instantly warmer in the faux outdoor garden. Hermione tutted at Draco for his zing at her House as she unzipped her Gryffindor hooded sweatshirt and handed it to Kreacher. Draco noticed right away that she was wearing his Quidditch jersey and grinned and wagged his eyebrows in approval. Hermione blushed as she laughed, sitting in the chair Draco pulled out for her. Her gaze fell on Kreacher as she sat; the elf was still holding her jacket and staring at her stomach, blatantly shocked. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat, and Kreacher looked to Draco with wide eyes that seemed to silently say, Did you know, Young Master Black, that your lady is with child?
Draco chuckled at the elf as he sat down in his own chair opposite Hermione. Hermione quirked her eyebrow up at Draco. "You must have forgotten to use a certain charm," he said, obviously amused and fully aware that she had, indeed, remembered to charm her pregnant belly.
"No, I always—" Hermione began but ended abruptly. After a pensive pause, she turned to Kreacher. "Kreacher, can elves see through Disillusionment Charms?"
Kreacher, who had kept his wide eyes and his attention on his master, pretended that he did not hear her.
Draco cleared his throat and said, gleefully, "Kreacher, Miss Granger is your Mistress for the evening, and she has asked you a question." Draco looked like he was having way too much fun, Hermione thought as she smiled and rolled her eyes at him.
Kreacher immediately turned to Hermione and ground out, "Elves being able to see through wizards' and witches' charms….Miss Granger."
Hermione nodded and began to ponder the relevance and implications of this fact.
"Now," Draco said impatiently, reminiscent of his old, prattish ways, "Kreacher, bring our dinner. I haven't eaten all day."
Kreacher disapparated with a 'pop,' and Hermione immediately questioned Draco. "He can't be apparating into and out of the Castle—that's impossible!"
Draco nodded. "It is. Kreacher is only apparating down to the Hogwarts kitchen," he said.
Hermione nodded sheepishly and then was awestruck as their dinner appeared on their table. They each had a Cornish Pasty, a swiss chard and chickpea salad with garlic dressing, pasta in a brown butter and sweet potato sauce, and a drink: Butterbeer for Draco and pumpkin juice for Hermione. Hermione realized that Draco had chosen her beverage with care (because Butterbeer contains just a smidge of alcohol), and she was surprised and impressed. At her praise and thanks to him for his thoughtfulness, Draco melted and beamed; after all, his intention for their entire evening was to keep Hermione smiling at him.
"So….dare I eat what Kreacher has prepared for 'Harry Potter's Mudblood'?" she asked, only half serious. Draco frowned at the slur, but assured her that the food was being prepared by the Hogwarts House Elves and that Kreacher was just here to serve it. He needed Kreacher's discretion, he explained, which would not be something the Hogwarts House Elves would be able to accommodate for two students breaking curfew and other rules.
"So, you and Kreacher became acquainted at Sirius Black's home, I presume?" Draco said quietly as he and his lady tucked into their meals.
Hermione cringed, although she'd known the second Kreacher saw her tonight that this topic would be coming up. Despite how much she trusted Draco, she was hesitant; Sirius's former home (now Harry's) was still the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. That information was a well-kept secret and one that Hermione had a responsibility to protect (on the off-chance that Kreacher hadn't already informed Draco or his Death Eater relatives of that fact).
She nodded. "Yes. I met him when I visited Sirius there with Harry," she admitted simply. And then, because she just couldn't help herself, she added tightly, "Kreacher is very….devoted to the ideals of the Black family—except for Sirius's, that is," while she recalled the incident last year at the Ministry building. Kreacher had deliberately lied to Harry on order from Draco's aunt, Bellatrix Black-LeStrange. It was Kreacher's lie that led to Sirius's death and the injuries of her friends and herself at the Ministry. That same night, Draco's father had been arrested with other Death Eaters who had battled the teens.
Visibly uncomfortable with this topic, Draco merely nodded his agreement. He then asked, "Did you often go visiting with Potter?" He'd tried to keep his jealousy out of his tone, but Hermione picked up on it and sent him a tiny frown.
"I visited Sirius the summer before fifth year with Harry, Ron, and Ginny," she replied.
Draco was silent for a moment, but as Hermione sipped on her pumpkin juice, he said, "Potter seems to fancy you, Hermione."
Hermione immediately laughed, spraying juice back into her goblet as a result. After coughing to clear her airway, she said, "I assure you, Draco, that Harry only has eyes for one witch, and she's not me." Hermione laughed again at the thought, wiping the tears from her eyes that had accumulated due to her coughing. When sober again, she said quietly, "Besides….I only have eyes for one wizard….and I'm looking at him."
The pale, porcelain-skinned face remained impassive, but in Draco's eyes, which seemed to be examining her, Hermione saw sparks of glee at her declaration.
"You're sure?" he stoically asked, averting his eyes as he pushed his food around his plate. "Because I know that there's much history between you and Potter—and that it's a much better history than yours and mine—so if you would rather—"
"Draco," Hermione breathed, reaching across the table for his hand, their eyes meeting again at the contact. "I wouldn't rather," she said shaking her head before flashing him a brilliant, genuine smile that reached her eyes.
Draco didn't need to clarify what he'd seen and heard in the corridor while he was spying on Hermione; her eyes exuded truth, and in them, Draco saw everything he needed to know. Draco's face then evolved to be as happy-smug as Hermione had ever seen it, and it made her blush and grin (and the butterflies in her stomach flutter pleasantly again) in response.
After a few minutes of silence, Hermione spoke. "Kreacher must think highly of your mum to be at your beck and call—as she is no longer a Black, technically, and neither are you," she carefully observed as she twirled her pasta around her fork.
Draco paused in his polite but voracious eating (he was already halfway done) and looked at Hermione for a moment before speaking. He knew that he needed to address the incident from a year ago, however uncomfortable it may be; Hermione would appreciate him all the more for his honesty.
"Kreacher will assist any descendant of the Black family," he said carefully. "He will not disobey Potter's direct commands, but he has no reservations when it comes to a command from a Black. I expect he will always be loyal first to the Blacks—until he feels that Potter is his true master, that is," Draco said seriously.
Hermione politely nodded, though she doubted at THAT ever being likely. She also filed away the fact that Draco knew that Harry was the owner of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place (and Master to Kreacher) now; she hoped that this tidbit of information would pacify Harry for a while.
When Hermione had assured Draco that she was finished with her dinner, he called for Kreacher. The frail, old elf appeared with a crack, and with a snap of his knarled fingers, he vanished the used dishes. With another snap, goblets of water and mugs of coffee and hot chocolate, and a tray of desserts appeared on the table.
"How may Kreacher be of service to Young Master Black and his lady?" Kreacher asked, surprising Hermione and making Draco grin.
"Bring the next part of the evening that I planned for my lady in one hour," Draco responded before biting into a petite dessert.
Kreacher then bowed low and disapparated.
"The next part? Not more food?" Hermione asked incredulously as she took in the array of sweet temptations before her. Draco, who was already into his second petite dessert, shook his head, politely dabbing his mouth with his napkin before speaking.
You can take the aristocrat out of the manor, Hermione thought amusedly, but not the manor out of the aristocrat. She had to admit, however, what a pleasant change Draco's manners were compared to the manners of the boys she usually was forced to eat with.
"No. He will have disapparated from here to meet up elsewhere in the castle with another elf—a Hogwarts elf—in order to leave the grounds. Once outside the wards of Hogwarts, he will disapparate to the Manor to retrieve the next part of our date," Draco explained, his mouth twisting up slightly with his last words.
Hermione's twisted up, too. "What do you have planned, Draco Malfoy?" she said slyly, picking out a tiny square of decadent chocolate cheesecake.
He raised his brows at her over his mug of coffee. "It's a surprise," he said, as if her question had been redundant.
Hermione huffed at that but then was thoughtfully silent, pondering why she had not ever read anything about house elf apparition in Hogwarts: A History.
"So," she said slowly, "Hogwarts' house elves can get past the wards on the grounds, and they can aid other elves in coming and going." Draco merely nodded, and Hermione continued. "Does that mean that they can do the same for humans or other magical creatures?" Hermione asked pensively.
Draco fixed his gaze on her, slowly finishing his (fifth) petite dessert. After he had, again, dabbed his mouth with his napkin, he spoke. "Not humans," he said definitely before quickly adding, "and to my knowledge, no other creatures."
Holding hands across the table, the two ate and talked about her pregnancy (how she was feeling, when her next appointment with Madam Pomfrey was, etc.), her Apparition Exam (he congratulated her for passing—although he'd had no doubt that she would, he told her sincerely—and was rewarded with a brilliant smile), and of the garden in which they sat (Draco told her was inspired by a small portion of the garden at Malfoy Manor). Draco ate most (about a dozen) of the petite treats, but there was enough dessert left for Hermione, who had now eaten two (albeit small) dinners plus the mini confections.
Draco stood before offering Hermione his hand and leading her beyond the little pergola-covered garden. Beyond the garden, the tall hedges that surrounded it seemed to form a short maze; at the end of the maze, Hermione gasped. In front of them was an expanse of lush, green lawn, some parts of it gently rolling, and above them the 'sky' was dark but lit with what seemed to be stars and even a 'moon.' An enormous lighted gazebo was visible in the distance along with some very tall trees.
"This. Is. Beautiful," Hermione breathed as Draco stood behind her, his chin resting on her head and his arms crisscrossed over one another, wrapping her up in his embrace.
"It's a replica of another part of my family's estate," he explained quietly. They stood there a few more moments until the 'stars' seemed to be falling down on them like snowflakes or raindrops.
"What…." Hermione began before she realized that what were descending were thousands of miniscule winged creatures. "Are these fairies?" she squealed uncharacteristically as she turned to face Draco.
Draco nodded proudly and started to pull her further out onto the lawn. "Dance with me, Mione?" he asked. After performing the charm of his own creation, his wand began emitting the sound of one of 'their songs.'
"I feel so out of place here in all of this," Hermione said as she gestured to the scene surrounding them. "I feel as though I should be wearing an elegant dress and not this," she said, referring to her outfit, chosen for comfort over anything else.
Draco shook his head. "You look beautiful," he whispered, taking in her entire form and causing Hermione to blush.
To Draco's shock, Hermione quickly stepped out of her shoes and socks. "What?" she asked, shrugging. "My shoes aren't made for dancing—and besides, I love the feel of grass on my bare feet, don't you?"
Draco looked at her warily. "I've never done it, so I wouldn't know."
Hermione gaped at him. "Seriously?" At Draco's nod, she exclaimed, "Well, you have to try it! Come on, now!" she commanded, motioning toward Draco's feet.
Reluctantly, while muttering something about 'bossy witches' and 'insufferable Gryffindors,' Draco stripped off his shoes and stockings, too.
Draco then eagerly pulled Hermione into his embrace, and she forgot all about inquiring about his first experience being barefoot on grass. No space existed between their bodies as they swayed together, small, slender hands wrapping around Draco's neck, and one large, pale hand holding tight to Hermione's low back as the other threaded through the hairs at the nape of her neck.
The steady lub-dub of Draco's heart, which lay just beneath Hermione's ear, provided an additional beat to every song and gave her more peace than she'd had in a long time. His heartbeat and the auditory stimuli from the instruments and the lyrics, combined with the tactile sensations created by one another's bodies (body heat and the heat from their warm breaths; hard planes abutting soft curves; caressing digits) and their bare feet being tickled by the grass was like a heady spell that had Hermione entranced.
Lyrics seemed to pour out from Hermione's heart, not Draco's wand, as every word described her feelings for Draco. Song after song played as the couple lost themselves in the moment.
'When I see you smile, I can face the world.' *
'There's nothing in this world that could ever do what the touch of your hands can do.' *
'You make sense of madness when my sanity hangs by a thread.' **
'If I'd only known you were there all the time, all this time.' **
'You're the meaning in my life. You're the inspiration….No one needs you more than I need you.' ***
'Whoa, my love, my darlin', I've hungered for your touch alone.' ******
'I need your love. I need your love. God-speed your love to me.' ******
'Don't go. You know you'll break my heart.' ****
'Let me be the one to love you more.' ****
"You chose really great songs for this medley," Hermione murmured, keeping her head on Draco's chest but just raising it up to look at him as she spoke.
Eyes even remaining closed, Draco didn't move at all—except for continuing their slow, swaying motion—as he spoke. "All chosen after serious contemplation, I assure you." His tone was resolute and low, making Hermione thrill inside.
'Just believe in me. I will make you see all the things that your heart needs to know.' ****
'It's your love. It just does somethin' to me….and if you wonder about the spell I'm under, it's your love.' *****
'Now that we're together, I'm stronger than ever. I'm happy and free.' *****
The reverie burst in the middle of a song with a 'pop,' which signaled Kreacher's return. The young lovers reluctantly broke away, relinquishing their holds on one another slowly, as if they were melting, and not breaking, apart.
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