A/N: LOOKY, LOOKY! 2 chapters in as many weeks on this fic! And long ones, too! Aren't you pleased? I'm pretty stoked with myself that I seem to finally be getting back on track with this fic. I know some of you are hanging out for the wedding and for the smut that will follow it, but I can't wait to see what you make of this chapter and the one after it. It's close now. I'm thinking the wedding will definitely happen before we hit c30 *winks*. Thanks ever so much for all the love on this story so far! We cleared 2k reviews! WOOOHOOOO! *bum dance*. I love you all!
xx-Kitten
Howl for Me
By Kittenshift17
Chapter 24
Draco Malfoy supposed it might be best to declare himself a bit sloshed. No small feat, given his lycanthropy. That, or he'd been hexed because nothing else could've resulted in him sending a group patronus to Blaise, Theo, Greg, Potter, Weaselbee, Weaselbee's brothers, Longbottom, and Scamander, inviting them to the Manor. Worse, he must be utterly addled to have done so claiming that if their brides-to-be were getting sloshed and getting to know one another, it might be in their best interests to have a few pints together to ensure the crazy bitches didn't figure out how to manipulate them.
"This is madness," Potter declared, staggering slightly on his way toward Draco where they were all traipsing across the Quidditch pitch, drunk, with the intention of a midnight game for no other reason than that Blaise had taunted Weaselbee about who was a better player, Ron or Ginny.
"Scared, Potter?" Draco sneered.
"Fuck off with your 'scared'," Potter replied, laughing and surprising the hell out of Draco. "Every time you say it I feel like we're at that bloody duelling club of Lockhart's in second year, first time we duelled, you remember?"
"How could I forget, Parselmouth?" Draco taunted, smirking. Shit, he must be drunk if he was teasing Potter.
"Shove it, Malfoy," Potter said. "Don't supposed you'd care for a re-match to see who the better Seeker is these days?"
"It's me, Potter," Draco assured him. "Werewolf senses, see? I can hear the snitch fluttering about when it's loose and spot it far better than you can, Four-Eyes."
"Four-Eyes?" Potter scoffed. "What are you? Five? Lay off or I'll start making werewolf jokes."
"Like I haven't heard them before. They're Blaise's favourite."
"He taunts you for being a werewolf?" Potter frowned a bit.
"He thinks it's hilarious. His favourite are the 'A werewolf, a vampire and a hag walk into a bar' type jokes. They're all terrible."
"That's just… sad," Potter declared, looking at Blaise where he was practically tripping over his own feet. The bunch of gits had all tried to keep up with Draco's drinking pace, forgetting that Draco was a hermit, a werewolf, and something of an alcoholic in his solitude.
"That's Blaise for you. Thinks he's hilarious, though."
"He and Ginny will get along like a house on fire," Potter mused. "She loves those kinds of jokes."
Draco smirked, thinking that Zabini and the Weaselette already got along like a house on fire. In fact, he'd put good money on them almost burning Blaise's house down with their wild shagging. At least, he would based on the fact that when she'd turned up at her flat with Granger after spending the day 'moving in' with Blaise, she'd reeked of Blaise and of sex. Not that he was about to tell Potter that.
"Actually, while those other tossers are all busy," Potter went on when Draco made no reply. "I wanted to talk to you about Hermione."
"Is this the portion of the evening where we all start threatening each other not to be bastards?" Draco drawled. "Because if so, I've got an earful for Weasley."
"Just don't hurt her, Malfoy," Potter grumbled, catching his elbow and pulling him to a stop even as some of the others kicked off, shooting into the air to play the game despite not having released the balls yet.
Draco glanced down at the hand on his elbow, always surprised when anyone willingly touched him – especially when they knew he was a werewolf. He narrowed his eyes on Potter.
"Don't look at me like that, Malfoy," Potter warned when Draco bared his teeth at him. "I'm not scared of you, werewolf or not. I threw a punch at Remus one night when he gave me that shit, so knock it off or I'll throw one at you, too. I'm not trying to tell you what kind of husband to be and I'm not going to threaten you because I know Hermione can handle herself and that she'll walk all over you if the need arises. Just… don't hurt her. Don't be you usual arsehole of a self. I know what you used to do to Parkinson at school and I know what will happen if you try and pull that shit with Hermione. I'm not here to warn you not to mess with her, I'm trying to warn you that if you do, she'll fuck you up."
Draco raised one eyebrow. "What's she going to do? Hex me? Werewolf, remember? Most hexes bounce right off."
"As if Hermione doesn't know the ones that won't?" Potter raised one eyebrow in return, smirking just a bit. "Look, I'm just saying that if you try to publicly humiliate her, she'll annihilate you. She's creative, she's clinical and sometimes she'd downright cold. Just… don't fuck with her."
"You actually think there's anything that wild-haired mess of a witch could do that will phase me?" Draco asked, amused. "Annoy me? Sure. Nag me? Embarrass me? Infuriate me? All of them, I'll bet. But there's nothing she can do in retaliation that will phase me."
"You have no grasp of her vindictive streak if you think that," Potter shook his head. "Look, take my advice or don't, I don't much care. But when she fucks you up, makes you regret being born, and makes you want to kill her, don't say I didn't warn you."
Draco shook his head slowly, watching as Potter mounted his broom, kicked off and shot into the air to join the others.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
To say she was drunk by the time they were all packed off out of the pub they'd ended up in after the lingerie shopping was concluded, would've been an understatement. Hermione was well and truly sloshed, and she wanted to have a shower and fall into bed.
"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. "I feel like Zabini said something about drinks with Malfoy at the Manor? Hang on, I'll send a patronus."
Hermione watched Ginny cast her mare patronus, sending a message along with it to Blaise to find out where they all were.
"I doubt they'll all be together," Tracy spoke up. "Our intended husbands don't exactly get along."
"You never know," Ginny said. "Maybe a show of solidarity from them might mimic this thing we've all been up to. Zabini did say something about drinking with Malfoy and about having to put up with Harry and Ron."
A few minutes of drunken staggering later – they were heading for a pizza place down the street that was open late – a bright white patronus whizzed into their midst. The silver stag signified it belonged to Harry.
"We're all at Malfoy Manor," Harry said, sounds of the other laughing and shouting in the background. "There's food. And whiskey. And there was Quidditch before Ron ploughed into the ground. And there was a game of pool for a while, before me and Zabini got into it and I had to punch him. But now there's food, and… Oi! Shut up, you tossers, Zabini, you started the bloody fight! Anyway… You lot should come. Hehehe… come… get it."
Hermione covered her mouth, listening to Harry's drunken rambling as he argued with Zabini some more.
"Don't know if this works with someone else's patronus," Draco's voice took over, also slurring drunkenly. "But hopefully it does. Wifey! Get your arse home, and bring all those slags with you. Someone has to clear out their riff-raff husbands and if it's got to be me, I'm using my claws to chase them out!"
"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione grumbled when the Patronus message ended and the stag disappeared.
"He calls you 'Wifey'?" Tracy began to laugh, throwing her head back. "Oh, I cannot wait to see you two destroy each other."
"I told him not to," Hermione protested.
"Mistake number one," Pansy sneered. "Never tell Draco Malfoy not to do something because it annoys you. It guarantees that he will do it forever."
"Urgh!" Hermione grumbled.
"He called the Manor your home, Granger" Millicent pointed out. "Did anyone else catch that?"
"Well, since I'll be forced to move in there in a few days, it technically is my home," Hermione argued.
"Oh, 'Mione," Ginny began to laugh. "You are so screwed."
"Hey, I'm not the one shagging already my fiancé so much that I haven't managed to move most of my stuff into his house," Hermione replied.
"Moving is just so boring," Ginny shrugged. "And Zabini is so totally not boring."
The girls all jeered as Ginny raised both arms in triumph.
"They have food," Pansy pointed out. "Potter said so. And the food at the Manor will be so much better than late-night pizza. Should we apparate?"
"Can we apparate?" Millicent grunted. "I might splinch myself, I'm pretty pissed."
"It might be safer to take the Knight Bus," Hannah suggested. "I'm sure they know the way. And no one will end up losing a limb."
Hermione threw out her arm and they all squealed when the bus appeared before them, nearly running over Tracy as she wiggled her hips, mumbling the words of the song that had been playing in the pub.
"Welcome to the… bloody hell!" their conductor exclaimed in shock when they all began piling on board.
"All of us for Malfoy Manor, please," Hermione said.
They all handed over some money for their tickets and took their seats quickly. Hermione didn't know how she ended up next to Tracy, but she smiled at the other witch tentatively.
"So," Tracy said. "I think the night went well. You and Pansy looked cosy toward the end of the evening. I told you, she comes across cold, but she's soft underneath. Just insecure."
Hermione nodded her head.
"Will you tell me about Harry?" Tracy begged suddenly. "What am I in for?"
Hermione pondered if for a moment.
"You're in for someone who loathes the spotlight and loathes being famous," Hermione admitted. "And someone who is like a brother to me, and probably the best man I know. He's a bit of a dork, if I'm honest. Loves Quidditch. Thinks too much about things and worries too often, but he's a good man."
"Anything I should avoid doing or saying?" Tracy asked.
"Don't ask him about the war, or about Voldemort," Hermione shrugged. "And don't be insensitive about his family. He misses them. A lot. And he'll likely want to name his kids after them. So, you know, expect that. Offer that, if you're alright with it. Um…. What else do you need to know about Harry? Oh! He's a right git when he loses his temper – which isn't that often anymore, but he still does occasionally. And he has a problem for leaving his socks in the most annoying places. Seriously, it will drive you batty."
Tracy laughed at the idea.
"Tell me the truth, Hermione," Tracy said quietly. "How do you think all of this is going to play out? You and Draco? Pansy and Ron? Me and Harry? We're all high on the potions right now, but when they back off the dosage levels, are we all going to feel like fools and end up loathing each other."
"I don't know," Hermione admitted with a shrug. "Maybe. I think the most important thing is to get to know each other well, and to understand that some of this will always be awkward. And that, for a while, it might be confusing trying to navigate which feelings are manufactured and which are genuine. Honestly, I've been worrying myself sick that we'll all be drugged into being in love, and then they'll stop dosing us and everything will go tits up because the effects will wear off and it will feel like falling out of love with one another."
Tracy nodded.
"I've been worrying about it, too. I just don't know what to do about it. The Ministry is currently making us stupid with the drugs for the wedding, with it being so close, but what about after the honeymoon?"
"I'm wondering if they might drastically lower the oxytocin after the honeymoons. Drop it back to just being fertility potions. By then we'll all have shagged our spouses stupid and might have kids on the way. And if not, it will be like a really, really great honeymoon, followed by a return to reality. Removing that part of the dosage will mean we still get horny for our spouse, but not because we'll be forced to crave them, it'll just be an increased libido, you know? I hope that's their plan. If not, they're going to boost the population drastically and then, a few years from now, the Ministry will have a record number of divorces on their hands."
"MALFOY MANOR!" the conductor announced when they arrived and the girls all piled off the bus, spilling onto the road outside the gates.
Flicking her wand, Hermione sent a Patronus to Malfoy, telling him they were outside the gates and needed to be granted access to get in. A minute later the gates creaked open, admitting them all.
"Bloody wards," Daphne grumbled as they all traipsed up the drive towards the Manor looming in the distance. Hermione tried to ignore her shiver as they approached, reminding herself that this was to be her home, not a place to be feared.
"Where do you think they'll be?" Pansy asked, pushing open the front door and leading them all inside, clearly knowing the way better than everyone else.
"They is being in the parlour," Zeet appeared to inform them. "Will the Misses' be wanting food?"
"GODRIC, YES!" Ginny shouted.
"OI! DON'T YOU GO SHOUTING THAT UNLESS I'M FUCKING YOU, BABE!" Zabini's voice came from somewhere and Ginny began to snicker.
The girls laughed with her, shocked.
"Bloody git," Ginny laughed. "He's just begging to be punched again, yelling things like that."
"Mistress?" Zeet asked, moving over to Hermione and tugging on her hand.
"Yes, Zeet?" Hermione asked as the girls all traipsed off with Pansy in the lead, heading for the parlour.
"Master Draco be asking me to be telling the Mistress that he be insisting you be having something decent to eat. He say you not be eating while you is out. Zeet brings you something decent in the parlour?"
"I…" Hermione frowned. "That would be lovely Zeet. What's on the menu?"
"Anything you be liking, Mistress," Zeet smiled.
"Oh… Um. Maybe pancakes? Or a croissant? Pizza? Something with bread."
"Zeet brings them all, Mistress," the elf smiled before he dashed away.
Hermione hurried after the girls, vaguely recalling Malfoy showing her the parlour in his wing of the Manor. She smirked to herself on the way when she realised she was still carrying the bag of lingerie she'd bought at the shop. Figuring she might as well put it away before Malfoy could spot it and before her friends had to see it and have aneurysms, Hermione swung past the bedroom she would share with Draco from here on out, sighing when she entered the room. Having only spent one night, so far, it smelled predominantly of him. Lemon and caramel. The smell hit her sensitive nose and Hermione drew it into her lungs deeply, feeling better than she had since leaving Draco at her flat.
Strolling into the walk-in wardrobe, Hermione kicked her high heels off her feet, more than a bit tipsy and taking great delight in setting the shoes in their designated spot, lined up on the floor of her side of the closet. She stashed the bag of knickers in the back of her underwear drawer and tossed up the merits of grabbing a shower before joining the others in the parlour. Expecting more drinking might be in order, Hermione supposed it would be silly to change or to bathe when she would just get all icky again.
Pleased to have ditched her shoes, at least, Hermione was crossing the bedroom when a soft sound drew her attention and she glanced toward the bedroom door to spot Draco leaning there. Hermione hated herself for the insistent throb of desire that pulsed through her at the sight he made. Dressed in charcoal slacks and a navy oxford with the top three buttons undone, his hair windswept form flying and a wicked smirk on his face, he looked delectable.
"Wifey," he greeted her.
"Husband," she replied without thinking, earning a low, purring sort of growl as she kept moving toward the door to meet him.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "The others feared you'd gotten lost and sent me looking for you."
Hermione doubted it, somehow.
"You just wanted an excuse to be free of them, didn't you? Your hermit nature is wanting to kick them all out now that I'm home," Hermione taunted. Draco looked wickedly amused at the very idea.
"You just called the Manor 'home'," he said, grinning.
Hermione felt her cheeks flood crimson as she moved until she was standing directly in front of him. She didn't even really think about it as she brought her hands up, looping them around the back of his neck and tangling her fingers in the blond hair at his nape. He watched her as she leaned into him, resting her cheek on his chest and listening to the sound of his heart beating steadily inside his chest.
She didn't know what to make of everything when the sound calmed her, somehow.
"You reek of the other witches," he informed her, one hand clutching a glass of whiskey while the other snaked around her waist, pressing her flush against him. He lowered his head to fit his teeth to the bite on her shoulder and Hermione closed her eyes, sighing softly.
"I was thinking about showering," she admitted. "But then I figured we'd be up with the others, drinking and Merlin knows what else, and that it didn't make any sense to shower twice."
"You realise that if you're showering before bed, I'll be joining you, right?" he said quietly.
"Probably a bad idea," Hermione replied even as she snuggled her cheek against his chest, finding the strangest comfort in cuddling into him and coating herself in his scent.
"I'll be good," he promised. "I know your rules. I won't break them before our wedding day."
Hermione smiled slowly to herself, realising she was well and truly plonkered-off-her-tits-drunk when she felt a prickle of joy at the way he said 'our wedding day'.
"We should re-join the others," she murmured to him.
"Or there's the shower," he counter-offered.
Hermione laughed. "Later," she promised. "I want to hear about why Harry was punching Zabini."
"How drunk are you, wifey?" Draco asked her in amusement when she giggled over the very idea.
"Extremely. There are two of you," Hermione said.
"Twice the fun," he smirked.
"Pretty nice view, too," she replied, smiling widely before pulling out of his embrace and sliding past him into the corridor.
"You must be drunk if you're complimenting me," Malfoy laughed as he followed her down the hall in the direction of the noise where their friends were. "Have you eaten?"
"Not yet. Zeet said he'd bring me pancakes. And pizza. And croissants."
"That hungry, are you?"
"It's your fault," Hermione assured him, grinning over her shoulder and finding that he was watching her, his grey eyes threaded with gold but not completely flooded. Both the wolf and the man watching her. She suspected he was amused by the fact that she was barefoot, a little dishevelled, and obviously drunk.
As evidenced when she walked into a wall.
"Oops," Hermione giggled, listening to Malfoy laughing at her and too drunk to take offence. "Anyway, as I was saying. It's your fault I've been so hungry. I ate a huge vat of pasta the other night. I usually make the dish to take to the Burrow at Christmas and it feeds the entire Weasley horde. I ate it all by myself. Every bite."
"Your metabolism will be accelerating with the lupine effects of the injections and the bite," Draco told her. "But don't worry, if it looks like you start packing on the pounds, I'll just fuck you more often to burn off the energy."
Hermione groaned, turning to look at him and coming to a stop, waiting for him to close the distance between them.
"What did I say about saying things like that to me?" she asked.
"That you like it?" he teased.
"That it makes me want to climb you like a tree," she corrected without thinking. "And I'm trying to hold out to make our wedding night special. So stop taunting me."
His lips twisted into something between a smile and a wicked smirk, his hand lifting to cup her cheek lightly.
"I'm going to get your drunk more often," he told her, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. "You actually tell the truth when you're drunk, rather than lying to me as though I don't know that everything about me turns you on."
"Oh, it does not," Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes at him before smirking and hurrying into the parlour where their friends were all gathered.
"YOU FOUND HER!" Harry shouted in celebration, spotting Hermione as she sauntered into the room with Malfoy trailing behind her.
"Harry, look at your face!" Hermione exclaimed. "Did you just let Zabini punch you a bunch of times?"
"Have I ever let anyone punch me?" Harry sneered in retort, staggering as he moved towards her and almost pulling them both to the floor when he reached her and threw his arms around her, dragging her into his embrace despite Malfoy's growl.
"Oi, jam it, Malfoy. She was mine first," Harry told the grumpy werewolf, apparently in the mood to be obnoxious in his drunkenness.
"I will end you, Potter," Malfoy warned. "I won't even break a sweat while I rip your throat out. With my teeth."
Harry blew a raspberry at him in retort, tucking Hermione under his arm and steering her away from her future husband.
"Now," Harry said. "Explain to Ginny that Zabini deserved it when I punched him, would you, love?"
"Why did he deserve it?" Hermione frowned.
"He was trying to hustle me at pool," Harry shrugged.
"Oh. Then he completely deserved it," Hermione nodded, looking at Ginny, who was smoothing gentle fingers over the split in Zabini's left eyebrow.
"You don't just punch people over pool," Ginny protested, lecturing her ex-boyfriend while her fiancé looked like he didn't know if he should be amused, alarmed, or jealous.
"You do," Harry assured her. "Remus and Sirius taught me to play and they insisted that anyone who hustles pool needs a good right-hook to the jaw."
Hermione giggled, looking over in Draco's direction when she heard another soft growl. He'd dropped into one of the armchairs and was pouring himself another whiskey, obviously trying to show the restraint and trying not to make a scene over her and Harry touching. When she spied Zeet and Kimmel appearing beside him with a table's worth of food, Hermione almost drooled.
"Food!" she cheered, slipping out of Harry's hold and dashing, barefoot, across the parlour, darting around friends as they chattered, danced and drank. Draco looked up at the sound of her rapid footsteps, just managing to set his drink down before Hermione threw herself down into his lap, reaching for a croissant and a slice of pizza at the same time.
"Do I look like your lounge-chair, Granger?" Draco drawled when everyone looked at her in shock.
"Food?" she offered him the piece of pizza she'd just taken a bite of, grinning and too drunk to care what their friends might think.
"Really?" he asked drily, raising one eyebrow. She could see his lips twitching with amusement.
Hermione shrugged, taking another bite and squirming on his lap until she was comfortable, perched on one of his thighs with her legs draped over the other and over the armrest of the chair. She munched on her pizza hungrily.
"Mistress?" Zeet asked, seeming pleased by her enthusiasm as she hoed into the food. "Would you be liking something to drink?"
"Oh, my gosh, Zeet, I would kill for a cup of tea," Hermione told the elf.
"Tea? Really?" Draco sneered. "You're drinking with your friends and you want a cup of tea."
"If I drink anymore, you'll have to carry me to bed. Without a shower," Hermione told him seriously.
"Tea it is, Zeet," Draco told the elf, making her giggle.
"Am I seeing things?" Ron could be heard from across the room suddenly and Hermione looked in his direction to find him staring at her in confusion.
"You're making quite the scene," Malfoy said, reaching up to press his lips against her ear as he spoke. Hermione shivered at the touch.
"You were the one getting all growly and possessive," Hermione replied sweetly.
"You're sitting in my lap for my benefit?" he challenged.
"Mhmm," Hermione hummed around another bite of pizza before offering him some.
Draco darted a glance at his friends to see if they were paying attention before he leaned up and took a bite, his eyes flooding gold.
"You like it when I share with you," Hermione grinned knowingly, reaching for more pizza when he polished off the bit she was offering him in two large bites.
"I never share," he argued.
"You share with me," Hermione retorted before stealing his whiskey glass from his hand and sipping from it. Malfoy watched her with bemusement glittering in his eyes, though she could see the hunger in them too.
"What are you doing, Granger?" he asked her. "Other than making a scene, and squirming in my lap like an excitable puppy, that is?"
"I'm testing a theory," Hermione smirked.
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. See, Pansy and I had a nice long chat tonight, and I hear tell that you're possessive, and reserved, and not at all affectionate. And that you don't tolerate being made a fool of. And I wondered if that information was accurate, whether it was from before or after you were bitten, or whether it was just her you weren't affectionate with," Hermione said. "See, I think that if she'd ever sat in your lap and tried to feed you – in private or in front of your friends – you'd have dumped her off onto the floor. Yet here I am, feeding you pizza and comfortable as a phoenix in a fire."
"You were jealous," Draco smirked.
"What?" Hermione blinked.
"Don't try to deny it, wifey. You wanted to climb into my lap not to test any theory about whether she was actually right. You just wanted to rub it in her face that you can climb in my lap. Likely after she said something to provoke you about how she and I dated for years. You're marking your territory as surely as a dog cocking his leg."
"I am not!" Hermione protested. "You were being snarly because I hugged Harry. And there was food here. And I wanted to see if you'd let me, because she said you wouldn't."
"If that's what you've got to tell yourself to sleep at night, Granger," he grinned.
"How do you do that?" Hermione demanded, setting aside the pizza to glare at him. "How do you always turn everything I do or say into somehow being me coming onto you or trying to claim you or compliment you? It's never my intention."
"It is," he assured her. "You're a territorial little thing. You always have been, even when you were with Weasley and before then, when you were just friends with him and Potter. It was no secret that no girls made a move on those two because they were afraid of what you might do to them. And you've been ordered to marry me. You're trying to lay claim to me so that no one else will get ideas about one last hurrah before the wedding."
"I'm not," she shook her head. "I don't need to. The potions do that. Don't smirk at me, you bastard! I'm serious! They do. Go on, let me up and go over there and snog Parkinson. See what happens."
"I'm not that stupid, Granger. Try to remember I'm much brighter than your sidekicks, yeah?" he drawled.
Vaguely, Hermione was aware that they were arguing and that their friends were listening and watching.
"You are that stupid if you think I'd be possessive over you or territorial over you," Hermione retorted, wriggling with the intention of getting off his lap. He looped one arm across her, latching onto her hip and holding her in place so she couldn't get up.
"Again with the lying, Hermione?" he asked, her first name dripping off his tongue, making her quiver as a sparkle of desire shot through her.
"Lying this, you bastard," she snapped, elbowing him in the stomach and winding him before rolling free of him.
Draco growled at her but Hermione ignored him, getting to her feet and stomping away in the direction of Harry once more. Harry was snickering as he watched the exchange. Most of Draco's friends simply seemed shocked by the display, apparently not used to seeing anyone talk to Malfoy in such a manner. That, or that were all unnerved by the way Malfoy began snarling all the more when Hermione looped an arm around Harry's waist and suggested a game of pool between the two of them.
"You're playing with fire, love," Harry chuckled even as she pulled him to the table and began setting up the balls, handing Harry a cue.
"Shut up and break," Hermione ordered, snatching his whiskey glass from his hand and skolling the remainder of the liquid inside.
Harry did as he was told. Hermione kept Malfoy in her peripheral vision, surprised when he didn't attempt to follow her or continue their argument, though she could still hear him growling. No one else seemed to, making her think her hearing had improved enough that he was doing it under his breath.
"I'm littles," Harry told her, grinning as he sunk a ball.
"You realise I'm going to have to kick your butt?" Hermione asked, lining up her shot and missing the white ball on the first swipe because she was so drunk.
"I'm shaking in my boots, 'Mione," Harry laughed at her.
"Oh, bite me, Potter," Hermione grumbled, shooting again and hitting the white ball this time, sending it slamming into one of the others, scattering them all across the table.
That got another growl out of Draco. Apparently he didn't like the idea of anyone else biting her. Hermione smirked to herself but ignored him.
"You know, I think I might call it a night?" Neville said a short time later.
"There's beds down the hall if you can't Floo or Apparate," Malfoy offered their friends. "Use Silencing Charms if you're fucking, or I'll bust in and savage you if you disturb me with your raucous sex-sounds."
"Must you, Draco?" Daphne laughed.
"Must I bust in?" he replied. "Witch, if I've got to listen, I'm going to watch, too."
"Ew," Ginny wrinkled her nose.
"Don't mind him, babe," Zabini told his fiancé, tugging her into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "He's always been a peeper."
"Fuck off, Zabini," Malfoy laughed.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Zabini asked.
"Yes," Draco said. "I'm sick of looking at all your stupid faces. Go away."
Ron snorted, obviously not realising Malfoy was serious.
"Took longer than I thought it would," Goyle commented. "Milly? You want to come home with me?"
"I'm not married to you yet, idiot," Millicent rolled her eyes.
"We can get some practice in for the big night," Goyle smirked in return and Millicent laughed at him, shaking her head when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"And there goes my boner," Ron could be heard muttering from across the room, earning dirty looks from Goyle and Millicent.
"Must you be rude?" Parkinson demanded of her fiancé.
"Don't start, woman," Ron rolled his eyes. "Rude is your middle name."
"You would know the first thing about me… how?" Pansy sneered, propping her hands on her hips and glaring him.
"All I've got to do is look at that upturned nosed," Ron said.
"If you two are going to start fighting, I'm going home," Tracy declared, sighing. "Thanks for a fun night, ladies. See you at the wedding, if not before."
"Before," Luna spoke up. "We should… is everyone free on Wednesday?"
"We need to do a rehearsal for the wedding," Tracy nodded seriously. "Does Wednesday suit everyone?"
"You expect us to practice getting married?" Ron curled hi lip.
"Oh, you are so unrefined," Pansy sneered. "It's tradition, so we don't all make arses of ourselves in front of everyone we know, you dolt!"
"Dress rehearsal Wednesday," Tracy declared. "I can't listen to you two bickering. You're ruining my buzz! Potter? Are you coming with me or are you finding your own way home?"
"Are you inviting me home with you?" Harry asked, lifting one eyebrow.
"If you like," Tracy shrugged her shoulders. "If not, I'll see you at our appointment at St. Mungo's tomorrow night."
"I'm coming," Harry replied. "Sorry 'Mione, we'll have to finish our game another night."
He moved over and gave her a quick hug, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
"Ron, mate, try not to kill your wife," Harry said, hurrying to his best friend and shaking his hand. "I'd say I'll see you at home, but if she murders you, please know that I'm going to tell all your embarrassingly stories, one after the other, for your eulogy."
"You're a git, Harry," Ron laughed, his annoyed expression melting away at Harry's cheerful threat.
"See you, mate. Neville!" Harry hurried over to the other boy, drawing him into a manly hug that shocked Neville.
"What was that for?" Neville laughed when Harry pulled away.
"You're a good sort," Harry shrugged and Hermione giggled.
"You're alright too, mate, but I'm not going home with you," Neville shook his head.
"Oi, that reminds me. Owl me tomorrow, yeah? Got to ask you something important. We'll have a drink. Ron, you too."
Hermione watched Tracy, watching Harry. She looked amused and rather fond of the idiot. She wondered as Harry shook George's hand and slapped the redhead on the back, if they'd make a good match. She needed to get to know Tracy better, Hermione thought. Outside of the big group of them.
"George, mate. Drinks tomorrow, yeah? We'll talk shop," Harry told him.
"Shop?" George slurred. "Mate, the shop's all good."
"Nah, you need to hear my pitch," Harry grinned, winking at him. "You'll love it."
"What are you up to, Harry?" George asked, his brow furrowing.
"You'll see. Got to go, lads, got to go. The missus, you know?" he was grinning, shooting an amused glance at Tracy, who looked to be trying to figure out if she wanted to rouse on him for taking too long, or like she wanted to snog him because he was obviously in a good mood and a happy drunk.
"We're leaving, too," Theo Nott announced, slinging his arm around Daphne's shoulders. "We'll all get out of Draco's hair before he mauls someone, yeah?"
"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled.
Hermione shook her head at them all, torn between telling them not to leave her there alone with Malfoy, and wanting them all to leave so that she could eat some more pizza, grab a shower and fall into bed.
"Right. Drinks tomorrow then, is it?" Zabini asked, pointing out how rude Harry was being not organising drinks with all of them.
"Better things to do, mate," Theo replied, nodding his head at Daphne, who smirked.
"Right. Yeah, me too," Zabini grinned, turning his gaze to Ginny, who was in the process of stealing a croissant and taking a large bite. "Aw, babe. Why you always got to be so bloody cute?"
"Cute this, Zabini," Ginny said around her mouthful of food before flipping him the bird.
"Witch, I will spank you," Blaise threatened.
"I'm so scared," Ginny rolled her eyes.
"You will be," he threatened, taking a step toward her. Ginny bolted, laughing the whole way. "Yeah, you better run, witch!"
Hermione shook her head when Zabini bumped his fist to Draco's before racing after his witch, dashing past Harry and Tracy.
"Twitterpated fucking fools," Ron grumbled. "I'm going home. Night."
He nodded to Hermione and clapped his brother on the shoulder before striding for the door.
"Fucking delightful," Pansy sneered but she too shot a nod at them all and followed him. Hermione wondered if they'd end up going home together or if they'd just end up fighting some more.
"I do so love when the Nargles are feeling frisky," Luna mused softly, smiling. "I'm going home, too. Thank you for tonight, Hermione."
"Tracy organised it, Luna."
"Just the same," Luna said, hugging her. She took Rolf's hand and led him off out of the Manor after the others, waving vaguely to them as she left.
"Guess that leaves us," Angelina chuckled. "Home, Georgie?"
"I thought you'd never ask," George grinned crookedly at her.
"Goodnight Hermione," Angelina said, smiling and giggling a little in her tipsy state.
"Night 'Mione," George smiled, ruffling her hair. "See you soon, eh? Don't provoke the grumpy werewolf, yeah? Malfoy, thanks for not being a complete git for the whole night."
"Eat me, Weasley," Malfoy drawled in return.
Hermione snorted at his words while George slung his arm around Angelina and they both wandered away, intent on either Apparating home or catching the Knight Bus, apparently.
"Well," Hermione said quietly when the parlour emptied but for herself and Malfoy. "You certainly know how to clear a room, don't you?"
Malfoy looked over at her slowly, his expression closed off and his eyes cold. He appeared to be annoyed with her and Hermione raised one eyebrow in silent challenge, sauntering closer and scooping up a pancake drizzled with maple syrup. She rolled it into a long, cigar-shape before lifting it to her lips and taking a bite.
Another soft growl escaped Malfoy, his gaze heating considerably at the suggestiveness of her actions. Hermione smirked before taking another bite, finding it rather amusing to provoke him.
"We should get to bed," he said quietly, watching her polish off the pancake and licking his lips as though imaging a certain part of his own anatomy disappearing between her lips in such a manner.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she challenged, picking up another piece of pizza in one hand, and the cup of tea Zeet had fixed for her in the other, carrying them as she made for the bedroom.
"I would, actually," Draco admitted, trailing after her and leaving the elves to tidy up the mess within the parlour. "You're angry with me."
"You accused me of marking my territory," Hermione replied without looking at him.
"Admit that you were, at least a little."
"I just wanted to sit with you and eat the food the elves brought me," Hermione protested. "Sorry for making you think that you're so bloody important I would want to lay claim to you in front of all our friends by sitting with you."
"You're genuinely annoyed about this, aren't you?" he asked, following her into the bedroom and closing the door behind them. Hermione gobbled down the last bite of her pizza, carrying her teacup with her as she wandered into the bathroom.
Draco followed, unbuckling his belt as he did.
"I'm annoyed that you feel the need to twist everything I do and everything I say to have some significant meaning as though I'm as calculating as you," Hermione replied, setting down her teacup on the bathroom sink when it was empty before reaching for the zipper on her dress, trying to claw it down.
Malfoy watched her in the mirror, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he did so. Hermione kind of hated the way the slow reveal of his flesh as he undid each button made her want to turn around and lick each newly revealed inch of him. He didn't say anything else about their argument, seeming genuinely intrigued by how she viewed everything between them.
"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked quietly.
Hermione glanced up to meet his gaze, noticing that they were all silver.
"It was nice," she shrugged.
"Missed me, didn't you?" he smirked.
"When you're so snarky and conceited?" Hermione challenged, raising her eyebrows.
He smirked in return, apparently taking that as a yes. He dropped his shirt to the bathroom floor, revealing the expanse of his pale torso, littered with scars from his transformations. Hermione's eyes dropped to drink in the sight of him under the bright lights of the bathroom, wondering how he might react if she turned around and nibbled on his collarbones.
He reached for her slowly, helping her with the zipper on her dress as she struggled to pull in all the way down. Hermione shivered when he trailed his fingers in the wake of the zipper as it opened, holding her gaze when he slipped his hands inside the parted fabric, smoothing them around to circle her ribs carefully. She pulled at the front of the dress, letting the straps slide down her arms before watching the entire garment slip down her body to puddle about her bare feet.
To his credit, Draco's eyes remained on her face for a long moment, watching her carefully as though committing her features to memory.
"You're sure you want to shower with me?" he asked softly.
"I'm still angry at you," Hermione replied evenly, not willing to admit that her body was thrumming with need.
"Maybe I can make it up to you?" Malfoy offered, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Hermione's lips twitched, too. "What did you have in mind?"
His wicked grin was a thing of beauty, she thought tipsily.
"Let me show you."