Rumours
"Oh, no. Draco is not here: he's gone out for lunch - probably has a date with an idiotic busty blond or something", Hermione mutters sullenly.
Susan blinks and shuffles a little the stack of papers in her arms.
"What?" she asks.
"Nothing", Hermione huffs. What does Susan want with Draco anyway? "I just hope he'll be back before sunset: this case is urgent, you know. We don't have nearly enough time to go... gallivanting outside everytime it strikes our fancy!"
That's a bit unfair, she knows. Draco is here everytime he's needed, and he does more than his part of the job.
Susan is looking at her weirdly. Hermione shifts, suddenly uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
"Draco?" Susan repeats.
Hermione wills herself not to blush and decides there are times when to play safe means to play dumb, as humiliating as it can be.
"What about him?"
"You never called him Draco before. It was "that git", "that stupid bastard", "the ferret". "Malfoy" on your good days", she adds like an afterthought.
"So? We're working together, now", answers Hermione in her best grown-up voice. "And apparently, you can't go on calling by his surname a guy you puked on."
That's what she tells herself all the time, and she really tries not to dwell on how easily the name tumbles from her lips. But Susan isn't listening to her at all anyway, and a sly smile dawns on her lips. Hermione can't help but find it slightly creepy.
"So... how is he?"
Hermione frowns in confusion. She doesn't like where this conversation is going.
"Wha..."
"Oh, come on. Everyone knows you and Draco are..." She makes a vague motion with her hand.
"He... Me... We... Everyone?" Hermione splutters.
"Well, yeah. I mean, you haven't exactly been discreet about it: you hated him, in a very obvious kind of way, and now you're looking at him like he's some kind of god - which he is, if the rumors are true." She wiggles her eyebrows and Hermione feels quite sick in the stomach. "You are even calling him Draco."
Hermione feels her face grow hot. And it's go nothing to do with that weird dream of Draco Malfoy kissing her forehead with a disturbing gentleness.
"Everyone?" she squeaks again. "And I do not. We don't!"
"Don't be such a prude, Hermione. It's selfish not to share: is it true that he..."
"Hello, Susan. Looking for me?"
Hermione turns around. For the first time of her life, she's positively ecstatic to see Draco Malfoy coming her way.
"Draco", she exclaims with enthusiasm. "How was your date?"
"My date?" he repeats, blankly.
This is not good. She was counting on it to prove Susan wrong, but if he refuses to admit it, then that good-for-nothing blond is useless.
Or maybe he was just out for lunch, like he said he was. You never know... The idea is strangely pleasing. Probably because, it wouldn't be fair that he got to go on a date in a nice restaurant when she was eating tepid soup all alone.
"Yeah, you know. Your date, with your girlfriend", she says, hoping he'll take the hint.
And just to make sure, because he could be lying. But at that point, it would be stupid of him: who cares if he's got a girlfriend anyway?
His eyebrows shot up and he smirks. He's finally catching on. Hermione suppresses a sight of relief.
"Oh, no, he says. Who told you that? You know I would never cheat on you! I'm so sorry I got you worried, hun."
Hermione's jaw drop and she can't think of a single thing to say. Susan is wearing an unflattering triomphant expression.
Hun? What the hell?
"What was it you wanted, Susan?" he continues, smiling pleasantly at Susan.
The later asks a pointless, obviously just made up question and mouthes something threatening to Hermione which looks suspiciously like: "We'll talk about it later." Hermione waits till the nosy hag is gone before looking at Malfoy.
"What was that for?"
Draco shrugges, visibly unconcerned.
"It was funny. Did you see her face?"
"It was not. Are you insane? Now, they'll think you and I are..."
"Dating?"
"Screwing! And now, there will be knowing glances and embarrassing questions all the time. Because of you, I'll have to take the stairs not to be cornered by giggling women in the elevator!"
Draco chuckles.
"It's really not that bad. Besides, you should get used to the rumours: after tomorrow, there will be plenty of those."
"There will?"
"Yes. By the way, we are having dinner at seven."
"We are?"
Hermione is so confused, she doesn't even think about protesting. She absent-mindedly muses that she sounds like a broken record and can't help but be quite irritated at herself.
"Yeah. With the dead-line so soon, I thought it would be best to make some extra hours. While eating - I'm not doing extra hours without food. I'll pick you up at 6:45. Dress formal."
"Oh, okay."
A work-related date. Of course. She tries to quell the twinge of annoyance in her stomach and turns her back to him, pretending to sort some papers.
She doesn't see him smile.
***
Another black dress makes its way on top of the growing heap on Hermione's bedroom floor.
Salazar's robes! She had no idea she owned that much clothes. Or black dresses, for that matter.
"Dress formal", she whines. "Dress formal! What the hell does that mean?"
She holds a purple satin dress. Nope, definitively too formal: she refuses to look that desperate, especially after the whole fiasco at Ginny's.
A blouse and a skirt?
She holds them in front of her and grimaces at her reflection.
That's a "no", she looks like an overeager schoolgirl. And she's not a schoolgirl. Even less an overeager one.
She thinks about flooing Ginny for the tenth time since she woke up: she actually stopped herself, a handful of floo powder in hand just twenty minutes ago. But no, it would be too embarrassing. And she still has to talk to her after the horrifying night she spent getting drunk, sprouting nonsense in front of her friends. Besides, Ginny might read too much into this. She would probably think this is some kind of romantic date or something. Which it's not.
Surely, she would never hear the end of it, and she doesn't think she can stomach another questionning about Draco Malfoy's "skills".
She makes a face.
She begins to be cold, standing there in her underwears. Not to mention it's 6:12 already and she's going to be late if she keeps stalling.
She finally grabs one of the black dresses, not even looking at it, and puts it on. She avoids her reflection, afraid that seeing herself will give her second thoughts. She doesn't dare do her make-up or her hair with too much care. She doesn't want Draco to think she believes it's a real date. Besides, you don't need to groom yourself for hours before meeting co-workers-bordering-on-almost-friends, do you?
Draco arrives just on time, which is sadly not a surprise. He's perfect, but with him, you never know when he took extra-care with his appearance or when he is just his usual classier-than-you self.
And he's holding daisies. Daisies!
"What is it?" he asks, watching her staring dumbly at the bunch of flowers.
"You brought me.... flowers?"
She knows her face is displaying her shock openly, but she can't bring herself to do something about it - her facial muscles aren't responding anyway.
"Yeah... Why, you've never gone out with a decent guy before? To bring flowers to the girl you're taking out is customary, you know?"
"But, we aren't going out!" she protests with exasperation.
"We aren't? I am making you go out of your flat to have dinner with me. It sounds an awful lot like a date to me", he says, lifting an eyebrow, as if daring her to contradict him.
"That's not what I meant at all, and you know it! We are not going out, as in "going out"!"
"I know, he says, smiling. But it doesn't mean I have to be rude about it."
She can't answer anything to that, so she lets him into her flat. She doesn't really like to bring anyone in here, but she figures he already saw it, even if she doubts he payed much attention to his surrounding the first time. After all, he was stumbling under her weight, half-asphyxiated by her Firewhiskey-and-sick breath. She cringes at the thought as she leads him to the kitchen. She finds an old dusty vase her mother probably bought her. She realizes she never used it before, which tells a lot about her dating-life, and she almost wants to cry when he gives her the flowers.
But she doesn't. Honestly, she would look like a psycho, crying because someone is giving her daisies.
"Thanks", she says, quietly.
"You're welcome. Are you ready to go?"
She nods and puts her coat on.
He watches her and, for a second, she thinks he's going to say something, but then he just smiles again and holds out his hand to her.
"We're apparating", he says.
She nods and clasps his hand in hers. And as her flat becomes a dark little street, she thinks that work or not, this whole thing looks more like a real date than any rendez-vous she's ever had before.
Somehow, the idea isn't as nauseating as it should be.
A/N: I still have a lot of work to do, but I had awesome reviews for the last chapter, so I'm shirking again ^^'. I know my chapters aren't all that long, but it would take me longer still to update if they were, so...
Anyway, thanks a lot to my very nice reviewers (and to you, if you're reading this, you can't be a bad person XD).
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