Ambition's End: Love Grows
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.
Although Hermione was exhausted by the time she returned that evening, she still had one final task on her list. She purposefully made her way to her desk and opened the drawer where she stashed all her mail. She was determined to see whether or not she had ever received the portkey from Theo before she went to bed.
She hadn't.
She pulled out her chair and settled on it, then rested her head against her arms. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts, despite how tired she was. Great. So I did never get Theo's invitation, she mused. And of course, that was on the same night that I had been attacked. I don't think that's coincidence.
Suddenly a chill ran down her spine as a more frightening possibility occurred to her.
Or maybe...maybe my owls have been monitored even before then. The fact that the night the owl was sent was the same as when Montague attacked me and Harry...could be just coincidence. Maybe there were other letters that were taken before. Or maybe this was the first time, and it was only taken because of the portkey to the Notts' place. She frowned as her mind kept coming up with scenario after scenario.
All I know is that someone's been intercepting my owls. And owl mail is ridiculously safe so it's a good bet that whoever took my letters is from the Ministry— it has to be the Aurors. I can see Givens getting permission for that by arguing that it's necessary for my safety or some rubbish like that. Although I shouldn't discount the possibility that it's my boss.
"Enough," she said aloud, raising her head and straightening her shoulders. She got out of her seat and started to pace around. She exhaled deeply. All this thinking was getting her no where. I can't figure out anything tonight. It's too late for that. So I'd best just get to bed and start looking in this tomorrow morning. Or rather, later this morning. And for now just not use the owl post for anything important, just for everyday things.
A smirk appeared on her lips as a wickedly clever idea occurred to her. Well, unless of course, it's something that I want whoever's spying on me to find out.
Hermione took one last glance at the mirror across from her, wanting to make certain that she looked her best. Her action didn't go unnoticed by her companion.
"You look absolutely lovely, darling," Draco drawled, his lips curling into a lazy smile as he regarded her. "You shouldn't need me to tell you that."
She turned back to him and cocked up an eyebrow. She was pleased that he was so willing to flirt with her. That had to be a good sign, and in any event, she was going to encourage such behavior. Not that he needs any encouragement, she thought privately. Still she pasted a smile on her face as she said, "Are you trying to imply something?"
"I assure you I wasn't trying to imply anything at all. I was simply stating that I know that you know how well you look."
She made a moue and scrunched up her nose. "When you put it that way, you make it sound as though I'm vain."
"Never that," he replied. "Fishing for a compliment, definitely, but not that. Though what I should have done was to ignore you, I suppose. Rewarding such behavior will only encourage it."
"And not saying anything might make me look for someone who will," she returned, a wicked grin on her lips.
That was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth. His expression turned dark. He leaned in closer towards her. "I know you did not mean that," he said, his tone full of menace, "and so I'll let it pass. However, let me warn you, that I am not such a wizard to tolerate such behavior from my witch."
Hermione found herself gulping involuntarily, despite all her earlier confidence that she could control the man before her. Clearly this was one of his trigger points, although she really couldn't blame him for it. She would never suffer being made a fool because of infidelity on the part of her wizard. No, in fact, she didn't even want him to ignore her in favor of other witches even. They were very much alike in that.
Her long silence didn't sit too well with him, however, and he took hold of her arm. Ire backlit his silver eyes, and a small part of her mind couldn't help but admire how gorgeous he looked. "Silence, my dear, is not an acceptable answer. I want it perfectly clear between the two of us that you are not to flit about with other wizards."
She wasn't about to let herself get pushed around. So she lifted her chin and met his glare head on. "I will only promise you that if you extend the same courtesy to me. I will not tolerate being the target of pitying glances and hushed gossip due to you carrying on with some tart."
A smile graced his face then, and the tension between them was broken just like that. His eyes were still lit from the strength of his anger, but it was fading fast. She could tell that he was amused by the similarities between them, much like she was. "I think that's an agreement I can enter into with no qualms," he said. His characteristic smirk made an appearance on his face. "And if you're now done with admiring yourself, shall we go?" He gallantly offered her his arm.
"For that, I should tell you no and make you wait even more." She rolled her eyes, but took the arm he held out. Inwardly she was slightly amazed at the two of them had defused the situation so quickly. Back when they were at Hogwarts that never would have happened. Hmm...maybe both of us have grown up since then, she thought. Well, I know that for certain for myself...but the more time I spend with Draco, the more I can see that he's not the boy he used to be. She sighed at that thought. That's probably where I went wrong. I kept thinking of him as a boy instead of a man. If it comes down to it...if I have to chose between him and what I believe in...I know what my choice will be. It'll just hurt more...my own fault for letting myself fall so deep.
Her melancholy didn't escape his notice as they walked down the hallway to the ballroom where everyone was waiting for them to arrive. "Why the sigh?" he asked, looking down at her, concern now welling up in his silver orbs.
She shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts. Eyes, not orbs. Merlin, Hermione, you're not a silly girl in some romance novel. She couldn't help but cough as her recalcitrant mindtook off running with that suggestion. There was something incredibly romantic with the notion of the two of them. That was partly the reason why they had been able to fool everyone about being in love. And the other part is that we can't help falling for each other. Or at least, I hope so. And gah! I need to stop thinking in clichés!
"I didn't think that was such a hard question to answer." The sound of Draco's voice roused her from her reverie.
"Hmm?" she asked distractedly. She couldn't remember what he had asked her, so lost she had become in her own thoughts.
"And here I thought I would never see the day that someone could pose a question to you that you're not able to answer," he said. She rolled her eyes at his cheek and poked him in his side.
"Stop that. It's not fair to ask me anything when it's clear that I'm busy thinking about something."
"Hermione, you're always thinking about something. If I went by that standard, I would never be able to talk to you about anything. I would simply wait by your side in the hopes that eventually you would take pity on your poor fiancé and strike up a conversation to save him from dying of boredom."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Honestly. I know perfectly well that you're able to keep yourself amused. You're the very definition of a social butterfly." He winced at her description, causing her to smirk. "What? You wouldn't describe yourself that way?"
"Yes, and you know it." They continued along in the same vein as they walked, his former question long forgotten. Hermione found that she was growing more relaxed by the moment in his company, not blinking an eye even when he let go of her hand to wrap an arm about her waist and draw her closer to him. In fact she didn't notice how intimate a position they were in until they entered the ballroom.
She blinked her eyes rapidly as they entered the room, more or less blinded by all the lights. She was used to Malfoy Manor being a rather dour place. She had chalked that up to the personality of its inhabitants and their magical inclinations. It was rather ironic, in a sense, that the Manor could be so brightly lit up at nighttime when during the day, it tended to be dark inside.
Leaving that aside, Hermione was grateful that the lighting was done by magical means and did not heat the room the way Muggle lights did. From the soft breeze that slipped across her skin, she could determine that there were several layers of cooling charms placed on the ballroom. The room was filled with all sorts of flowers, and the roof was charmed to look like the midday sky. It was very easy to believe that the party was being held outside in the gardens rather than inside. There was even a large, marble fountain in the middle of the room. The soft trickle of its water permeated the room despite the din of conversation.
Hermione twitched her lips as she silently appraised just how full the room was. "I thought you said that the party started at eight," she noted to Draco.
"I don't believe I ever said that," was his reply.
"Oh?" She twisted her head around so that she could glare at him. It was rather awkward, but she didn't wish to move away from his embrace just yet. "I distinctly remember you saying that we didn't have to be here till eight. And I assure you that my memory is usually correct."
"And it is again, darling." He bent forward to drop a light kiss on her lips while his hand gently massaged the small of her back. It was so tempting to close her eyes and let him deepen the kiss, but she wasn't about to do so in public. She continued to glower at him—or rather, she attempted to maintain her glare, but she doubted she was all that successful.
He smiled at her, and she could feel her resolve weaken again. He said nonchalantly, "I did say that we didn't have to be here at eight. I never said the party started at eight. Those two things are different."
"I guess I should have known better and parsed your words more carefully." She rolled her eyes, but she really wasn't irritated with him. She was irritated with herself, because she had known that she was dealing with a Slytherin. She should have known that Draco Malfoy was very much accomplished when it came to misleading a person without actually lying. And I should have questioned him further, she berated herself. I've fooled people with the truth often enough myself. It...well, it's bloody frustrating that I could let myself be misled this way. But enough of this. Let's pay attention—close attention—to what he's saying now! So as not to make the same mistake again.
For Draco was continuing with his explanation. "I had known that you would want to be here first thing. But there's no real point to us showing up that early." He shrugged his shoulders eloquently. "We're not hosting the party. That's my parents' duty, and I am certain that they were here to greet everyone. Rather, we're sort of like the guests of honor. Which means we can be late. In fact, I suspect that everyone sort of expected us to be the last to arrive."
"I see," she replied vaguely. She briefly wondered if this was another insidious way for Narcissa to make it obvious that she wasn't really part of the Malfoy family. She quickly decided that she didn't care what that old hag thought. It didn't really matter what Narcissa's motives were, even if she was trying to subtly insult Hermione. It was only a matter of weeks before the wedding would take place, and that would function as her official welcome to the family.
All of a sudden, it got too hot in the room for Hermione, as her traitorous mind suggested what that welcome would also consist of. No, no, no, she told herself. I am not going to think about that. But she found it hard to change the direction of her thoughts, especially not when Draco was still standing so close to her. It felt right, for all the wrong reasons, to be cradled against his side as they traversed the room.
A shiver ran down her back as Draco bent down to whisper in her ear, his warm breath tickling her as he spoke. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "You look a bit flushed."
That only made her blush harder. Of course he would notice it, she thought with exasperation. I wouldn't be surprised if he knows very well what sort of an effect he's having on me right now.
She stifled a gasp and very nearly froze in place as she considered that possibility. Yes, that would be like him. I could see how he would want to buttress his hold over me like that. Although that wasn't much at all to begin with...yes, well it would be foolish to pretend that he has no influence over me. But still. Not nearly as much as he might think. After all he still doesn't know how it was I who arranged our marriage in the first place.
Feeling satisfied with herself, she proceeded to answer his question. "I'm fine," she said, moving so she wasn't quite so close to him. That small change in position made it easier for her to focus. "Just a little excited…and maybe a little nervous. I'm not used to being the center of attention."
Draco chortled at that. "Is that why you suffered being friends with Potter? Because he would take any and all attention away from you?"
She bristled slightly at his remark, not liking how he so easily disparaged her friend. Yes, Harry was an incredibly useful friend to have and yes, she did suffer sometimes to keep him as a friend—particularly in their fourth year when there were all those rumors about them being together—but she also genuinely liked him.
"I never suffered being friends with him," she said crossly. She tried to pull away from Draco but found that he was holding on to her too firmly.
"Fine, fine. I apologize. No need to get snippy with me." It was hard for her to stay upset with him when he was grinning at her like that. "But you must admit that your friend does have a habit for seeking out attention."
"Harry doesn't seek attention. It finds him."
"I imagine he probably says the same thing about trouble."
Hermione snorted at Draco's remark. That was, in fact, something that Harry often said to her, particularly whenever she told him not to go looking for any trouble. "He may have said that once or twice," she admitted.
Draco snorted. "Somehow that does not surprise me." He cocked his head to the side. "No, it doesn't. The only thing that does surprise me is the fact that you admitted to it."
"I'm not blind," Hermione said. She shrugged her shoulders eloquently. "And you are spot on. It was—and remains to be—very convenient to have a friend who draws the spotlight away from me." She offered him a small smile. "It has its advantages."
"Indeed." He didn't elaborate further, but Hermione was certain that he could come up with several of those advantages all on his own. He was a Slytherin after all.
The evening was going well. Draco grinned as he slowly stroked Hermione's back, only listening with half an ear to her conversation with Nadia and some other Ravenclaws. He loved how she seemed to relish his caresses. It was positively enchanting the way she seemed to lean into them. He much preferred it to any attempts by her to avoid them.
That was the best thing so far about the night—how well they were getting along. There had just been that one brief moment when she had threatened to abandon him to seek out the company of other wizards. He had known perfectly well that she had meant it jokingly; he rather doubted that Granger was the type of witch to cheat and what's more she wouldn't do so because it was simply too great a risk to her sterling reputation. But there was never any harm in making it perfectly clear that he would not tolerate such behavior from her.
And of course, it was simply delicious to watch her make the same demand of him. He expected no less of her. Neither of them were the type to suffer infidelity lightly; he had no doubt in his mind that her vengeance would be terrible if he was ever foolish enough to betray her for another woman. Fortunately for the both of them, he wasn't a fool. Though he supposed that was rather unfortunate for Hermione as well. She would have been better able to control him if he was as dull as her friends. Little did she know that he had already sussed out her plans to rule the Wizarding World from behind the scenes.
A burst of laughter disrupted him from his train of thoughts. Draco abruptly looked at the gaggle of witches beside Hermione, each of them chortling. For some reason, Hermione was blushing profusely.
"What is it?" he asked, feeling a little left out. "I'm sorry. I must not have been paying attention."
That only made Nadia and her friends laugh even more, and Hermione wrinkled her nose, as if put upon. She sighed heavily before speaking. "I was saying that I do believe your mother has been trying to get your attention for quite some time," she told him, her tone much aggrieved.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a bit distracted." For some reason, that served to further encourage the witches' laughter. He even saw Nadia nudge Hermione with her elbow and wink. He couldn't help but wonder what that meant.
Her cheeks flaming red, Hermione drew herself up to her full height and looked him straight in the eye, ignoring the other witches. "Well you had best get going, I expect," she said.
"Where?"
She let out an exasperated moan. "To see what your mother wants, my dear." She examined him with a critical eye. "Are you coming down with something? You don't seem to be too sharp right now."
"It doesn't take much imagination to figure out just who keeps distracting him," Nadia put in. She winked slyly at Hermione. Amazingly the tips of the Gryffindor witch's ears were now turning red.
"Something tells me the problem is rather that your imagination is overactive," Hermione replied shortly. She turned her attention back to Draco. "Go on. See your mother. I don't want to be accused of monopolizing your time." She all but pushed Draco towards his mother without bothering to explain to him just what was going on. He was rather peeved about that. She had to know that he was confused about the situation. But then again, he supposed she didn't want to embarrass him in public. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her out of the corner of his eyes, spinning around to confront Nadia and the rest about something. He couldn't very well remain upset with her when clearly she was acting in what she thought was his best interest.
With that settled, he was able to regain his composure. He began walking through the throng of people towards his mother, coolly nodding in greeting at several of the other wizards he knew. Draco was in his element. The crowd parted before him as he strode along, his head held high, satisfied with how everyone was quick to get out of his way.
"Hello Mother," he said, greeting her with a flourish. A slight chill brushed against his skin as a privacy ward settled in place over them. "You wanted to see me?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do feel free to thank me whenever you like, darling."
Draco held in a groan. Did the women in his life decide to make it a game confuse him tonight? If that was true, then they all were doing a bang up job. Confused didn't even begin to describe how discombobulated he felt. "I would," he told his mother, "but I must confess I'm wondering what you want me to thank you for."
She gave him a steely look. "Dearest, you don't have to pretend with me." She made a vague gesture with her hands. "Trust me, I've made certain that no one can overhear anything you say."
This time he didn't bother to restrain himself from groaning at his mother's remark—and somewhat loudly at that. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm not some child, who can't even realize when a privacy ward has been set."
His mother tilted her head to the side and looked at him with an expression of puzzlement writ large upon her face. "Yes that is what I had thought. But if that's so, then why are you still carrying on with this farce?"
"What farce?"
She shook her head sadly. "I see you're still laboring under the presumption that I don't know very well at all. Draco, I know perfectly well that you don't like that…Muggle you've settled on for a wife. Maybe no one else can see it, but I certainly can. I do know you best after all."
Draco fought the urge to laugh. His mother's last statement was a terribly ironic thing. She was wrong about him, and she didn't even know it.
There was a time, after all, when she was the person who knew him best. However, he was no longer that scared little boy who depended upon the schemes of his mother to keep him sane as he tended to the impossible task set before him. He wasn't about to let anyone, especially not his parents, control how he would live his life. And he certainly wasn't the same boy who would turn his biting wit to mock all the Mudbloods and blood traitors in sight. Draco could now admit—privately to himself—that he found Hermione attractive. Her intelligence was stunning, and he could definitely appreciate how she looked when she spent some time on her appearance like she did tonight. He glanced over in her direction, admiring how the cut of her robes set off her figure and emphasized her curves.
His mother coughed loudly, interrupting his train of thought. "Draco," she said impatiently, "I thought I made it clear you didn't have to do that around me."
"Do what?" he asked.
"Keep staring at that Muggle as though you're actually in love with her." His mother laughed throatily as she raised a champagne flute to her lips. "It's an awfully good act, darling. I am positive that half the room thinks that you're so in love with her that you can't bear to take your eyes off of her."
He rolled his eyes. "Hermione's not a Muggle," he reminded her. "You had best remember that she's a witch, just like you. If anyone heard you talking like that…"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Forgot the privacy wards already?"
Draco shook his head in response. He knew that his mother wasn't likely to go repeating what she had said to him in public. Still it irked him the way that she referred to Hermione as just a Muggle. Hermione was a brilliant witch, and he admired the plans his witch had concocted to control the Wizarding World. It was much better thought out that any plot either of his parents had ever come up with. But Draco knew it would be futile to get his mother to admit that and so he let the subject drop, choosing to address his mother's other accusation.
"And I'm not in love with her," said Draco. "I can appreciate what she brings to our marriage, that much is certain. But love?" Here he rolled his eyes. "Please. I'm not the sort of fool to be bothered with that."
"I should hope so," his mother replied quietly.
"Not know so?"
She wrinkled her brow, her lips pursing together into a pout. Then she sighed. "Yes, it should be that, shouldn't it?" She waved a hand in his direction. "But your act has been so complete, that for a second you even had me fooled. I did tell you, after all, that you didn't have to bother with continuing while you were here with me."
He shrugged his shoulders. "You can never be absolutely certain of who might be observing you," he offered as an explanation. Inwardly he was at odds with his mother's statement. It was no act, the pleasure he took in Hermione's company. Just being with her was a potent reminder of everything that was to come in his future. No Slytherin could fail to appreciate the sort of power and influence that would be in his reach after his marriage. However there was simply not the slightest chance in the world that he was actually falling in love with the witch.
Maybe Mother is having a hard time telling that because of everything I'm doing to win Hermione over, he thought to himself. I could see how that could be. She sees me doting over Hermione and worries that it's love. But the reality is, I dote upon my witch because I know that's the sort of approach that will be the hardest for her to resist. A smile crossed his lips. In fact, she hasn't been able to resist it so far.
His mother looked at him askance. "You do seem please with yourself. Is everything going to plan?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think—"
"That you have a plan?" she finished for him. "You always do. If you didn't, you would hardly be my son. Or your father's for that matter."
He nodded his head, not able to argue with his mother's words. It was true. Both of his parents were shrewd and cunning, and so it was only natural that he learned to be the same. The thought flashed through his mind that those traits would most likely pass on to his children. "My plan," he said, "is going as well as any plan in its current stage of development."
She smiled at him. "I see. Do remember, Draco, that plans work out best when you're flexible enough to modify them to fit the situation before you. It is very rare for the situation to modify itself to suit your plan."
"Yes Mother." He didn't remark on how Hermione seemed remarkably apt at getting everything to fall in to place for her. His gaze drifted over once again to his lovely fiancée as he thought of her. He supposed that this was where her vast intelligence came into play. Because she was so clever, Hermione could keep track of more variables than most and therefore, she could determine in advance how to arrange things in her favor. She couldn't think of everything—witness the way she never thought that he would find out about her ambitions—but her plots were very well devised, better than any of his parents' that much was certain. Draco knew that once he convinced her to let him in on them that those plans would only become even stronger, for he would be able point out the flaws that she herself had missed.
"And then there are some things that cannot be changed, no matter how much we might wish for them to," his mother said softly. Draco looked at her askance, wondering what she could possibly be referring to. She didn't meet his eyes, however, and took another long sip from her glass. He frowned as he realized that there was something very sad about her demeanor.
"Are you feeling all right, Mother?" he asked.
"Quite." His mother set her glass down. "I am just…coming to terms, you could say, with something your father pointed out to me the other day. It is not a very easy thing, but I daresay I will survive."
He remained silent, not sure what she wanted to hear from him. It was obvious that something had affected his mother, but she wasn't sharing that with him.
"No, no, there is nothing for you to worry about. Let me assure you of that much. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I've taken too much of your time away from your fiancée as it is," she said, her words tumbling over each other.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Mother? By sending me over to Hermione?"
"Get rid of you? Never. But it's hardly polite of me to stay here and chat with you, when I am the hostess. Go on. I'll leave it to Miss Granger to keep you entertained for the rest of the night."
And just like that, his mother shooed him off. Draco pondered over the rather strange conversation he had with his mother. Up until the end, he thought that he was going to have to endure another one of her lectures on how to construct a cunning plan while she also tried to reassure herself that he wasn't in danger of losing his heart to Hermione. Obviously he had said something to make his mother stop short, but he had no clue what it was that he had said. That was really too bad, as he would have liked to have known how to get out from one of her lectures. Telling her that he was no longer a little boy who needed his mother to watch out for him simply did not work.
However, Draco put those thoughts behind him as he walked back to Hermione. His fiancée had evidently got the upper hand in her conversation with Nadia and the other Ravenclaws while he was away for she was no longer blushing. She also wasn't paying much attention to him for she was too caught up in looking in the opposite direction from him. Languidly he slid back into place beside her and bent over to whisper in her ear, "Whatever are you looking at, my dear?"
He was gratified by the way she jumped up in startled pleasure as his breath hit her skin. Immediately she whirled around, raising her eyes to meet his. "Draco!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon," she said almost accusingly.
He merely rolled back on his heels with a smug smirk on his face. "Darling, you know how much I loathe being away from you."
Hermione's head gave an odd jerk, as she started then stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "The feeling's mutual," she said for the benefit of their audience. "So what did your mother have to say? It did look rather urgent."
"It turned out not to be," he said. It did not escape his attention how Hermione hadn't answered his question. He quickly glanced over to where she had been looking before and was greeted by the sight of Balthazar Merlose, talking fervently to a small group of pure-bloods. Draco frowned briefly before focusing his attention on his fiancée once more. While he would dearly love to know what was going on there, it was all too likely that Merlose would stop spinning whatever tales he was spinning. Besides Draco knew that he could count on his family. He was willing to bet that either his mother or his father—and perhaps even both—would hear about the rumors the old man was trying to spread tonight. So it was perfectly safe for him to engage Hermione in conversation instead of monitoring her boss.
"My mother just wanted to ensure that you were having a good time," said Draco before Hermione could press him to expand upon his answer. He grimaced as he realized one beat later that Hermione wasn't likely to believe that response. "Although she didn't ask as such. She was worried that you might have complaints about the party not being up to snuff."
Hermione merely raised an eyebrow, and he could see the wheels turning in her head as she interpreted that remark. Draco privately thought that it was a very good lie. His mother was likely, after all, to expect Hermione to complain about the party in some manner. In any event, she didn't challenge the truth of his words.
"I hope you conveyed to her how much I appreciate all this," she said.
"Of course. That's why I'm here now. Mother does have a reputation to keep up with," said Draco. Then a wicked idea came to him. "She said you could best show your appreciation by keeping me entertained." That immediately got the reaction he was looking for. Hermione's entire face turned scarlet as Nadia and her friends did their best to muffle their laughter.
He matter-of-factly observed the scene. "Apparently, she's not the only one who thinks so," he remarked dryly. It became clear to him that the other witches had been teasing Hermione about him earlier. It was too bad that he hadn't really been listening to what they were saying back then, for he would have like to have known that. And that's not the first time I thought that tonight. I guess I better start paying closer attention to the women in my life, he silently chided himself, shaking his head from side to side.
His still-blushing fiancée lifted her chin. "I wasn't aware you had to be kept entertained," she said. "I thought you were capable of taking care of yourself."
Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't think what she said sounded all that good to him. After all, he could see one particular interpretation for her words that he didn't much like. "I see. I wasn't aware that you considered keeping me company to be such a chore," he drawled, taking a step closer to her so that he could touch her. He reached out one hand and laid it on the small of her back. He whispered to her softly, so that no one else could hear, "Being ignored is something else that I shan't put up with."
She raised her eyes to meet his, not giving an inch. Then she took him by surprise and stood up on her tiptoes to swiftly kiss him. It was over before he knew it, and she was turning back to her friends, throwing a saucy wink their way. "I like him best when he's all brooding like that. Makes him more handsome, I think," she told them. She then turned back to him and smiled brilliantly, before leaning her head against his arm.
For once, Draco was completely speechless. He hadn't expected that at all. He had thought that maybe she had meant to challenge by implying she might insist on separate beds or some rubbish like that. However, she was clearly flirting with him and in public no less. He really didn't know what she meant by it at all. Had she truly gone and lost her head over him? While that was his intention for her, it was sort of disappointing for him to think that it was so easy to make her fall in love with him. He supposed it could also just be an act so that the rumors would continue that they were madly in love with one another.
The more he thought about it, the more that made sense. It wasn't like Hermione to lose her heart so easily. However, it was to her benefit for everyone to believe that theirs was a love match. It was also to her benefit for her to cooperate with him, seeing the truce that they had reached. It was too bad for her that she was just playing into his hands. Draco hid a smirk. Maybe his father had been right after all about how easy it was to fall in love simply by acting like lovers. That would make his life easier when it came to his plans for her.
Hermione gloated to herself, happy with the dumbstruck look that had appeared on Draco's face when he had realized that she was actively flirting with him. She was very happy that she had been spot on about all of his reactions so far. She had made an educated guess—based on their conversation earlier this evening—that his feathers would be ruffled at any intimation on her part that their marriage would be in name only. And she also thought that he would be taken by surprise when she made her coquettish reply, as that had been his reaction the other night in the library.
She wasn't going to fool herself, however. She still didn't know him as well as she needed to. But she was making progress, and that was something. Said progress would be aided by the fact Draco was attracted to her. She hid a smirk. People never expected it of her, but she did know how to make an impression on someone when she took the time.
But now was no time for her to sit back and congratulate herself. Draco Malfoy might have caught her off guard, and though in some ways, it was already too late for her, she was going to make the best of a bad situation. She had made wonderful progress with him, but there was still a long way to go. For one, she did wonder just why he had been staring at her so intently throughout the evening. Though Nadia and her friends had teased her about having Draco under her spell, she knew better than that. He had to be planning something. She had to be ready for whatever that plan was. Not to mention the fact, that there were many other variables she had to look out for.
Unbidden, her gaze drifted over to where her boss stood, surrounded by a group of pure-blood wizards and witches. She repressed a sigh of exasperation. She didn't know what the crafty old man was saying, but she was willing to bet it wasn't anything she would like. Merlose had never liked her. It wouldn't be too surprising for if he was campaigning against her. That would simply have to be something else for her to look out for.
"Do you wish to go over and say hello to your boss?" Draco whispered in her ear. She almost jumped up in surprise. Hermione had thought she had been discreet when it came to keeping track of where that old wizard was. It was simply more evidence that she had to proceed very carefully when she was around Draco.
"No, I don't particularly want to. I'm not exactly his favorite person in the world," she admitted.
Her fiancé lifted one elegant eyebrow at that remark. "The more fool he. It should be obvious that you're a valuable asset to the Department of Mysteries." He twisted his lips. "Though that might be part of it. Old Merlose is infamous for getting rid of any potential rivals for his position. You might want to watch your back there."
Hermione couldn't help but snort. It seemed so incongruous, the way Draco was warning her. They had agreed to try and get along, but she was still getting used to that development. It had felt odd, just then, to listen to the genuine concern in his voice, although she did appreciate it. "Thank you," she said. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."
"You do that." He bent closer to her, so close that his breath tickled her neck and she could practically hear his heartbeat. "And I'll also see what I can find out."
That was an offer she couldn't refuse. While she wasn't about to admit that she needed help, she wasn't going to refuse any offer of it either. "Please," she said simply.
He gave her a smile that just about took her breath away. "Leave it to me, darling. I can't have that old fool troubling you, especially not when you already have your hands full with planning our wedding." That was all that was said on the subject for the rest of the evening, as they both had to go back to socializing with their friends. Yet Hermione felt as though she could trust Draco, even though she couldn't pin down a single reason why.
Author's note: This one has been a long time coming. Sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it.
The next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks. And I really mean that. I want to finish this fic—well before November would be nice, but realistically before the end of this year. Which is completely possible, seeing how the fic should only be thirty chapters in length, although that may or may not include the prologue and epilogue.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: nonentity, x3myheartbeat, Chanteur d'ombre, PotterEntourage, PotterEntourage, inadaze22, GiggleGirl89, Dame Brittany, oneamsoundstage, twin-v, Pfirsich, mlui, x3xxshazz, misssweetsweet, dynonugget, TheDreamerLady, Snowe, reimihara21, waterlilies52, kazfeist, stellarxmystery, Ayame89, Ice, sjrodgers108, KoRnChildG, RaineyDays, snowy-cherry-blossoms, megsamadhi, backupbecool, ChevalierDeDame, Lea1286, mkhtl, and becky86. I really enjoyed reading all of your comments. :D