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Chapter 14 –Draco Malfoy Gets his Kiss:

Hermione folded Draco's letter and put it back in the pile with all the others. She always kept them with her, and she would read them when she felt sad or alone, or sometimes when she wanted to feel sad and alone. It was a vicious cycle. She even had them memorized. That was why she knew she wanted to read this one in particular. She knew the words would help her heal. These letters had been her lifeline, her saving grace, for such a long time. She needed them. She needed him.

She knew she would have to face the fact that he was the man from her letters eventually, but she could not face it now. Somehow, deep inside, she always had an inkling that it was he. Or, more precisely, she had always hoped deep inside that it might be him, even before she had reconnected with him here. Every time he had mentioned falling in love with a woman, she had hoped he meant her. Hermione had hoped he would tell her the truth about the letters. She could only now admit as much.

She went to her bathroom, washed her face, brushed her hair, and opened her door. He was standing right outside. "Sorry, I knew you told me to wait on the landing, but I was worried," he said. "Really, I was looking out for your welfare, for you might have decided to borrow Potter's invisibility cloak, and sneak downstairs, and make the evil Monica gain something like two stones again. I couldn't let you do that, now could I?" he joked.

She gave him a look full of disdain, but when his smile neither faded nor faltered, she couldn't help but smile in return. "I really think I could come up with something better than that," she reasoned. "I might have decided to turn her hair pink."

"You monster," Draco said. He took her hand and they started downstairs.

"Maybe I would have made her nose hair grow really long, and she would have had to braid it or something, just to walk and not trip over it," she said.

"Thank the stars above you have me in your life now, for I can teach you how to be evil and vindictive. Those are my middle names," he said. "Nose hair, indeed."

"Your middle names are both Evil and Vindictive?" she asked.

"Yes, Evil after my dear old dad, and Vindictive after darling mother," he said. "What's your middle name?" he asked as they walked outside.

"Martha," she answered.

He actually laughed and said, "Boring. I was hoping for something like 'sex kitten' or the like. Martha?"

"I was named after my grandmother, Malfoy, my dead grandmother, who helped raise me," she said.

"Fine, make me feel bad for laughing at your name. I guess it is better than Hermione," he said. She shot him a look, but he was still smiling.

"My middle name is Jean, you dolt," she said. "I know I've told you that in one of my letters." She suddenly stopped walking. He did as well. She hadn't meant to mention the letters, not yet.

"I know, I recall. I was having a laugh. Nice to see you're at least capable of lying, even if it's only about your middle name. I was worried for a second that you had too many redeeming qualities for me," he said. He had noticed her slip as well, but he was not going to press her about it right now.

They walked over to the tent, and no one even seemed to notice them. He said, "See, no one is the wiser as to what occurred in the house."

"I'm sure," she answered, sarcastically. "Look at Martin," she said, as she nodded in the direction of Martin and Maureen. They were dancing, and what was more, they were dancing not as a couple, but as a family. Maureen's daughter Erin was standing with them, all three holding hands, swaying to the music.

"He'll be a wonderful father," Draco said. "Quite the accomplishment, since you all didn't have a wonderful father."

"He wasn't that bad," Hermione stated. She looked at her brother and his makeshift family, and then back to Draco. "It takes a big man to love another man's child, don't you think," she asked Draco.

"I suppose it does," he answered. He looked back at her.

"Could you have ever envisioned yourself loving another man's child?" she asked.

He thought she might be referring to her own child. He said, "If I loved the mother, I would love the child."

"Monica loved my father, in her own way, but she never loved me," Hermione pointed out, without sorrow or remorse. It was merely a statement of fact.

"Well, there's an exception to every rule, isn't there?" Draco concluded.

He led her to a quiet table near the edge of the opened tent. He sat down and pulled her to the seat next to him. He said, "I would have loved your child, Hermione. Is that why you didn't meet me? Was it because you were already pregnant? I mean, if my math is correct, I think you would have had to be pregnant since you lost it at eight months gestation. Did you not meet me because you thought I wouldn't love you because you were carrying another man's child? I would have. You should have given me the chance."

She felt tears brim her eyes again. She let go of his hand, and placed her hands in her lap. She looked down at her lap and said, "That has nothing to do with anything." She looked back at him and said, "And I am so tired of telling you this, so this will be the last time, but by all that is holy, I swear to you that I did go to meet you! I did." Her voice was soft, but her meaning firm. She looked back down at her lap. "Can we please not talk about this right now? Please, I beg you."

She was very close to leaving, in fact, she started to stand, but he put his hand on her elbow, and guided her back to her seat. "Sit down. I won't mention it again for now. I know I promised, but I had temporary insanity. It's over. I'm sane again. I'll be good, I promise. Don't be upset and don't cry. You cry entirely too much. You're close to being dehydrated I'm sure. Let me go get you something to drink."

He stood up and headed toward the barn. He really just wanted an excuse to leave her for a moment. He felt bad that he was rushing her, and causing her more distress, but he didn't know how much more he could stand. He had to know the truth. Moreover, her pain was almost more than he could bear. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, and make her complete again. She healed him, so he wanted to heal her.

He got something called a ginger ale for Hermione and a beer for himself and he started back over to the tent. He saw Michael and his mother coming out of the back door. He watched as they came right toward him. Michael gave him an embarrassed smile, and Monica gave him a death glare. Draco gave her his best smirk. The woman apparently didn't know to whom she was glaring. She didn't know whom she was dealing with, and why it might behoove her to look the other way before an accident befell her. She finally looked away, when it was apparent that Draco was not going to look elsewhere. Draco thought, 'that's right, you evil bitch, look away, look away.'

He walked back over to the tent in time to see Hermione walking across an open field, toward his own estate. He took a large drink of his beer, put both their drinks on a table, started after her, went back and got his beer, and followed her.

He didn't try to catch up to her. He just wanted to keep her in his line of vision, in case she disapparated away. She turned and started toward another field. He knew she was heading toward 'her spot'. He apparated there, so he would get there first.

He sat on the ground, by the creek, and began to drink his beer. She walked toward him, smiling. "I knew you were following me," she said.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked. "I arrived here first, you must have been following me."

"Whatever deluded dreams get you through the night is fine with me, Malfoy," she said. She sat down beside him, took off her shoes, and took the beer right from his hand. She took a swig, and passed it back. She said, "Did you see Michael and Monica? I saw them come out of the house."

"Yes, I saw them," he said. He drank the last of his beer and threw the bottle in the creek. "You know, my offer still stands, and you can stay at my place tonight."

She grinned at him, touched his sleeve and said, "I do think your bed is comfortable, remember?" She ran her hand up and down his shirtsleeve. She suddenly lay back on the ground, in the tall grass, and said, "I'm tired enough to sleep now."

He leaned over her, leaning on his elbow, and put his hand on her stomach. She flinched slightly, but he wasn't intimidated. He kept his hand in place. Her eyes shut, so he took the opportunity really to look at her. With every letter that he wrote, during their ten-month 'courtship', he dreamt of her, and moments like these. His hand came up from her stomach, to brush her cheek. Her eyes remained closed. He wanted to kiss her so badly. He had wanted to for so long. He promised he would be her friend, but did that mean they couldn't kiss?

He put his index finger on her lips. She parted them slightly under his pressure. Her lips were dry. He would do her a service, and wet them a bit. He leaned over, and with slight pressure, he kissed her, quickly, not wanting to break his promise to her.

She opened her eyes and said, "More please."

His breathing became faster. He could not believe his ears. He leaned over her again, this time, his left hand to the right of her body, holding him off her, and as he rested his body on his right arm, he kissed her again. This time, he pressed his lips to hers, keeping them slightly open, and he applied more pressure than before. He moved his lips slightly against hers. He raised his head after a mere moment. He opened his eyes at the same time she opened hers.

"More," she requested again.

"Are you sure?" He had to be sure.

"Please, more," she said. Her hands went to the front of his shirt, palms against the silky softness. He could feel their warmth against his skin, through the thin material. This time, he leaned over her, putting his weight on her, and he placed his lips firmly against hers. He applied more pressure than the first two times, and moved his lips over hers, sucking slightly, reaching out his tongue, to swipe at her bottom lip, before pulling it in his mouth. Her hands went from the front of his shirt, to his shoulders, then to his back. He couldn't contain his joy at finally kissing her lips, tasting her sweet nectar, drinking from her well. It was sweeter than he thought it would be.

Their lips lingered against each other. He didn't deepen the kiss as much as he would have liked, as he had dreamt of doing so many times, because he knew she was breakable. He lifted his head. The kiss lasted no more than twenty seconds, but it was the best twenty seconds of his life, and the best kiss he had ever received. He took another deep breath in, and watched as she opened her eyes. Her hand went to his face, and she smiled.

"I love you," he said to her. He did, so why not say it.

She took two short breaths in and said, "Draco, I, I don't, I mean, I do, but." He stopped her rambling with another short kiss.

"Shh," he hushed her, before kissing her quickly once more. "Hey, friends can love each other right? We're taking things slowly, like you wanted. I'm your friend, you're mine, and I said I love you, but as a friend."

She sat up, and put her hand up to her mouth, almost as if hiding her lips. "As a friend?" she asked.

"For now," he said. "You love your friends, don't you?" He sat up as well, and brought his knees up to his chest. He parted his legs and reached between them to pull a blade of grass.

"I love my friends," she repeated. "I don't kiss them like that, but I love them."

"So, I'm your friend, and that means, what?" he asked, without looking at her. He just needed her to confirm that she still loved him. She had told him that in more than one letter, so why couldn't she say it aloud? He needed her to say it more than he needed oxygen. Say it, say it, he chanted in his head.

She got up on her knees, and pulled the long blade of grass from his fingers. He looked at her as she playfully moved the blade of grass against his cheek, then his forehead. She threw it over her shoulder and said, "I love you, too, Draco." She stood up, hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and slipped her shoes back on her feet. She turned away, finding something in a far off field suddenly very interesting. He grinned; he couldn't help it, and came to stand beside her.

He said, "What are you looking at over there?" He could hardly wait for her response.

"Oh, nothing really," she said. She turned around and ran right into him. He put his hands on her arms.

"Steady there," he said. "Did that one drink of beer make you lightheaded, or maybe it was my awesome kissing ability."

"I don't think it's either, it's probably the fact that you were standing so close, although the little kiss was nice," she said. She looked back at the ground. He bent his head down, forcing her to look in his eyes. His hands were still holding her arms.

"Nice?" he asked, as if it were a dirty word. "I can do better, you know, but I was taking it slow. You said you weren't ready for more, but I can do better, let me show you." He was joking.

She started laughing and broke from his grasp. She started to run from him and said, "Draco wants to prove he's a good kisser!"

He ran after her, and they ran around in circles. He reached out for her finally, and grabbed her arm. He pulled her to him and put both arms around her waist. Her back was to his chest. He put his mouth next to her ear and said, "Shall I prove I'm a good kisser?"

She kept laughing, and didn't notice when he straightened up suddenly. He let go of her waist, and she turned to face him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He grabbed her suddenly; his right hand on her neck, his left tight around her waist. "I don't want to play games. Do you still love me; really love me, more than a friend?"

"I told you I did," she said, with a hitch in her voice.

"That was a game, I mean really, do you?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he thought that meant no, so he started to let her go, when she threw her arms around his neck and jumped up. He put his arms tight around her waist, and lifted her feet from the ground. She buried her face in his neck and said, "I do love you, I do." He held her for a long time, just like that; her feet off the ground, and her body pressed tightly against his, their arms around each other.

When he finally set her feet down, he touched her face. "Everything else will fall into place, then, I promise. Let's get back. I don't think I can be out here, alone with you right now, and not make love to you, do you understand?"

"I understand, and that means friendship isn't enough for you, right?" she asked.

"It means we have been more than friends for a long time, so I'm not going backwards, so let's take things as they come, and handle things the best we can, and go from there. Come on, Granger, let's get back." He took her hand and they started back to the party, both as confused as they were before, as to where their relationship was, but at least Draco Malfoy finally got his kiss.

They started back to the party, walking far part, but even with each other. When the house finally came in view, she said, "Do we have to go back, really?"

He looked at his watch, "It's only 5:00 pm, Granger, and I'd like something to eat. What do you propose we do? It's too early for bed." He kicked at the ground with his feet.

"Just say you'll be there with me, please," she asked.

"You crazy, crazy, girl. I'm never letting your out of my sight again," he said. He took her hand and ran with her back to the party.