Chapter 21

A/N: Hello readers! First thing: I've written a new oneshot that actually stayed a oneshot! It was a little idea I thought of while in class that got way out of hand until I had to write it down. I'm quite pleased with the result... You might want to check it out.

As always, thanks to arrandomness for betaing and thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited, ect!

~Frosty

Hermione woke up to a crash and a shattering sound. She jumped violently and would have fallen out of bed had a strong arm not reached over and pulled her back.

"Did you just throw my alarm clock into the wall?" She asked in a sleep roughened voice.

The only response she got was to be pulled against his chest and something mumbled against her hair. It wounded an awful lot like 'damn Muggle torture device'. She agreed heartily, but it was a necessary Muggle torture device.

"Draco, I have to go to work, and you probably do too."

"Don't have to get up, I'm the boss," he mumbled into her hair again.

"That's wonderful for you, but I have to get to work." She told him, half laughingly as she pushed his arm off of her and wiggled out of bed.

This should have been more awkward, she knew that. There was just something relaxing about him when he let his guard down, he made it difficult for her to feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was his complete shamelessness? He definitely wasn't making it easy for her to leave when he was looking so adorably sleep-ruffled – not that he'd appreciate it if she told him that. He'd been so kind to her the night before, he'd also been right; she was a little bit afraid of sleeping in her room after everything that had happened.

Draco watched as she grabbed clothes and disappeared into the washroom. He pouted when she closed the door behind her, but he'd expected that, so he got over it quickly.

"You're really not going to get out of my bed?" She asked as she put on her shoes, having showered and dressed.

"I love that you haven't once told me where you bought your shoes." Draco said as he watched her put a pair on her feet. He didn't bother answering her question; he was like a cat, not about to leave the place where he was warm and comfortable until he absolutely had to. Besides, the pillows still smelled like her shampoo and it was lulling him back to sleep.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You need to stop dating airheaded Purebloods."

"I already have," he pointed out, gesturing to her.

"I'm going to work now, you probably should as well," she mumbled, ducking her face so he didn't see the blush that stained her cheeks as she strode purposefully out of the room, determined to be on time despite Draco's sabotage attempts on her poor alarm-clock.

Harry was waiting for her in her office when she arrived. "I thought it best that Ron not be here for this conversation."

"What conversation?" She asked, feigning ignorance. She was a little flustered from the mad rush Draco had started by making her behind schedule.

"Hermione, we found you in Malfoy's lap suctioned to his face with his hand up your shirt! What do you think we're going to be talking about?"

Hermione huffed at her friend; she knew he meant well, which was the only thing keeping her from biting his interfering head off. She took a calming breath, knowing she was going to need it. "Harry-"

"How could you do this to me?" He demanded angrily.

"I'm dating Draco, it's not like I'm trying to resurrect Voldemort. There's nothing dangerous about what I'm doing." For someone so modest about his defeat of Voldemort, Harry was awfully arrogant to think her relationship with Draco was all about him.

"You wandered Malfoy Manor. Alone!"

"And I didn't get into any trouble."

"You got into Malfoy's lap, that's debatable." Harry told her dryly, his anger obviously dissipating a bit as a wry grin broke out on his face.

Hermione barked out a surprised laugh. "He's not so bad; he helped me a lot when I was dying."

"I know; which is why I didn't hex him yesterday." Harry looked a little upset at the reminder that she'd been so close to death and for the longest time, he hadn't even known.

"And you're not going to hex him in the future, should you run into him?"

He seemed to seriously think about his answer for a moment. "Provided he doesn't hurt you, then no, he will remain un-hexed."

She rushed forward and hugged him. "Thanks Harry." She said to his chest as she squeezed her friend as tightly as she could.

"Did you get the bloke you turned into Narcissa Malfoy to catch?" She asked when she'd released him and they'd both sat down again. Hermione was careful not to let on that she knew more than she should about the case he was working on.

Harry shuddered at the memory. "I'm going to need therapy after that."

"Funny, Draco said the exact same thing." They really were more alike than either of them would ever admit.

"Great, I'll be telling my therapist about that as well."

Hermione mock glared. "Did you get the bloke?" She persisted.

"Yah, it was the strangest thing. We got back from our mission, frustrated because we'd just spent time as Narcissa Malfoy, when we found the man we'd been looking for unconscious in front of one of the fireplaces."

She faked surprise at this revelation. "How'd he get there?"

Harry looked frustrated. "That's the strangest part; he'd been Obliviated and the Healers said there was evidence of torture and dark curses. No one has any idea how he got there." Except Hermione and all three Malfoys, but she wasn't going to get them in serious trouble with the law. It weighed on her conscience to keep something like that from Harry, but she did it for Draco's sake.

"Odd." She said. "Listen Harry, I really have to start working now."

"Just... Don't let Ron see you two together until he's had some time to deal with this, all right? I'll talk to him, but he needs some time. You know how he is." Hermione nodded and gave her friend another hug.

"Thanks Harry."

"You're still in my bed?" She asked when she came home. She'd come to her room to change into something more loose-fitting than her work clothes so she could comfortably lounge around the house. Instead of the empty bed she'd been expecting, there was Draco sprawled across her comforter wearing only pyjama bottoms as he did paperwork.

"No, I'm in your bed again. I like it here."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't kick him out. Rifling through her bureau she pulled out comfortable clothes and shut herself in the loo to change.

Dressed in sweatpants and an old, baggy t-shirt, she put her hands on her hips and stared at the blond. "What happens when I want to use my bed?"

He gave her a lecherous smile. "Things like that are more fun with two people."

She ignored his comment, flopping down beside him. "What're you doing?"

Draco glanced down at the paperwork he'd scattered across the bed. "Nothing important." With a wave of his hand he conjured a wind to blow it all off the bed.

Free to move without the annoying crinkling, he rolled on top of the brunette siren beside him.

Hermione looked up at him and raised her eyebrows in question. Was this his way of seducing her? Because it was kind of working... She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips, tired of watching him as he watched her.

Draco was surprised at her forwardness, but wasn't about to argue. He met her with just as much enthusiasm as she was showing – until something occurred to him.

Hermione made a sound of protest when Draco pulled away. He got off of her and sat back on his heels, looking down at her messier-than-normal hair and flushed cheeks.

"You're not going to shove me onto the floor and run, are you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous –" he looked relieved "- this is my room, I wouldn't run, I'd hex you." The relief was gone, but her smirk was like food to a starving man - completely irresistible. It drew him back to her mouth despite her half-threat of hexing.

A tapping disturbed them just as Draco was playing with the hem of her shirt, contemplating removing the thing. They both glared at the window, but it was Hermione who moved to open it for the owl.

The bird flew right past the witch and landed on the pillow beside Draco.

"Two guesses who that's from," he grumbled, reaching to take the letter.

Hermione perched on the edge of the bed and watched him read. Judging by the look on his face, her guess was his mother – he reserved that particular scowl for when the woman was driving him insane.

"What did it say?" She asked when he crumpled it in a ball and chucked it into the fireplace, moving closer to her to resume where they'd left off.

"She couldn't help but notice that I hadn't come home last night and was wondering where I was," he grumbled.

"But... she sent it here."

"Exactly. She also said she hoped we were keeping in mind what she'd said about grandchildren."

Hermione burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Draco sighed, he'd been dealing with his mother's insanity for as long as he could remember, and it could get exhausting sometimes.

"Sorry," Hermione patted his hand, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just that most mothers don't send their nineteen-year-old sons letters saying 'I assume you had sex last night and I hope you didn't use protection'."

Draco snorted, reluctantly joining in with her laughter – not because he found the situation particularly amusing, but her bell-like laughter was infectious.

"She also wanted to have you over for dinner." He added when she finished laughing.

She wrinkled her nose. "Is your father going to glare daggers while your mother pesters me with questions me about my ovulation cycles?"

"Most likely."

"Can we skip it?"

"Gladly. If I have to answer one more question about us, I'm kidnapping you and we're going to stay on a deserted island."

Hermione grinned at him. "Promise?"

A small pop announced the arrival of Patsy. "Mistress and guest is coming to dinner now?"

Draco looked hopeful. "Does that count?"

Laughing, Hermione shook her head and led the way out of the room.

Despite his insistence that he was the boss and could decide when he worked, Draco wasn't the type to allow himself to fall too far behind. After they ate an enjoyable dinner together, he gathered the papers that were scattered across Hermione's bedroom floor and Flooed home to catch up in the work he'd missed. But not before promising another attempt at a date; they were going somewhere he'd refused to disclose to Hermione on the upcoming Friday.

The weekdays she spent waiting in anticipation seemed to drag out for Hermione. It didn't help that Draco seemed to be of the opinion that his absence would make her heart grow fonder – it didn't, she just missed his company, particularly their bickering and the comfort he seemed to be able to provide her when she was scared at night.

When Friday finally rolled around, she wasn't able to spend the entire day getting ready – unlike Draco, she couldn't just take a day off. He would have to settle for her with only an hour's preparation put into her looks. If he had a problem with that, than she didn't want a relationship with someone so shallow.

Her hair was as tamed as she was going to get it, and her dress was simple yet flattering when she looked at herself in the mirror. She was putting the final touches on her very light makeup.

A knock sounded at the door, making her slip a little with the mascara wand and mutter angrily as she wiped the mess, moving to open the door. It couldn't be Draco yet, he was a half-hour early and it was unlikely that he'd walk instead of wandering in like he owned the place. She smoothed out the front of her dress and made a face at herself before going to see who it was at the door.

Patsy was standing in the entrance hall, shuffling nervously when Hermione got there. "Mistress! He be insisting that Mistress needs to be getting the door, even when Patsy told him to wait inside!" The distraught elf wailed, obviously distressed that someone was interfering with what she felt was proper.

"It's all right Patsy, I can get it." Hermione soothed over her shoulder as she grabbed hold of the door handle.

Draco was waiting for her on the other side. "You look ravishing." He announced, not giving her time to ask why he was knocking on the door like a normal person.

Hermione grinned and blushed at his compliment before stepping back to invite him inside. He wasn't having any of that though. "Hold out your hand." He ordered after a firm shake of his head.

Confused, Hermione did what he bid. The thing he placed in it was small and round, and looked like a plain river rock.

She was in the process of asking him what it was when he took the hand that was holding the rock into his larger one. Draco chuckled when he saw her adorably confused look shift to understanding as they both felt the tug of a portkey. He enjoyed keeping her on her toes; she tried to be in control all the time and needed a break from all that control occasionally – a break he was more than willing to supply.

They landed on a cold and windy ledge. Looking around, Hermione saw that they were actually on a small island, without room for much more than the large house that was perched on it and the ring of trees surrounding three sides of the house. Light, dry snow was blowing in the air, making it look like there were sparkles suspended all around them. It also made Hermione freezing.

Draco brought her attention back to him when he placed his warm jacket around her shivering shoulders.

"Where are we?" She asked, still shivering a little despite the warm jacket.

"I've whisked you away to my private island." He said proudly.

Hermione looked around skeptically, taking in the dark water far below them and the freezing wind that was whipping her hair against her face. "It's not quite what I was expecting."

"At no point did I say it was a tropical island." He said defensively, slightly hurt that she wasn't more excited about the date he'd planned. "Besides, this way I get to keep you warm."

He grabbed her hand and led her into the large, warm building that was waiting for them, sheltered from the harsh wind by the many trees surrounding it.