A/N: I actually thought of adding in a line about Hermione using the contraceptive spell the last time the two got it on, but I restrained myself because it just seemed to break up the flow. Hermione is smart- she will continue to practice safe sex. Even if it isn't written, you can assume that she remembers to cast the spell before it's too late.
Chapter 28: The Rambling
They slept in their own beds, much to Hermione's chagrin. Her own shyness to express her desires was working against her- once again, she couldn't bring herself to say "stay."
She understood why she desired him sexually- she may have missed it before, when he was just that arrogant prat at Hogwarts, but lately she had opened her eyes to see his attractive features. His silky hair, his slim, long body, his sharp, knowing eyes… and then in terms of skill in bed… well, Hermione didn't have much experience, but she had never heard in any of her 7th year dorm-mate's gossip about orgasming every single time they were with a man.
And she had certainly never guessed Draco Malfoy would be so damn willing to go down on her. She knew about oral sex, of course, but he just didn't come across as the kind of guy who would be into that- it seemed like a modern thing to Hermione, and Draco was definitely not modern. But maybe she was just showing her ignorance, again?
She blushed at the memories of her evening, pulling her blankets tight around her. She couldn't seem to fall asleep.
So, her attraction to him made sense to her- but why did she miss his warm body next to her? Was it something about the sex itself that made her feel so lonely afterwards when he didn't stay? He was just across the house, and the two would spend the whole day together tomorrow. She shouldn't feel lonely or neglected by him.
Did he not want to spend the night with her?
Maybe his feelings for her really were simpler than Ginny seemed to think. Maybe he cared for her like one would care for any friend… and the sex was just a bonus, in his mind. Had she made a mistake, sleeping with him before he had sorted these feelings out? Before she had sorted out her own feelings towards him?
She sighed, rolling over and bringing the pillow up and over her head.
Why wouldn't her brain be quiet so she could sleep? Why couldn't she get him out of her mind? She just kept thinking of those cloudy silver eyes when he was considering their date tomorrow. She had seen the moment when he had thrown away any objections he might have had, and his eyes almost seemed to smile even though his mouth was carefully straight. He wanted to make her happy- his eyes told that story.
She tossed and turned. There wasn't even a hint of his scent left over on her sheets or pillow- the house elves changed them daily, she suspected.
Finally, she just went to the potions room and got some sleeping drought, knowing she had to be rested for tomorrow. Based on previous experiences with Wizards who were not used to muggle things, she had a feeling their date would be exhausting… though perhaps illuminating.
...
Draco tried to be completely calm next to the screaming blurs of cars and the bustling crowds of muggles. Like everyone else who attended Hogwarts, he had been to London before, of course, to catch the train. But a hurried trip straight to platform 9 ¾ accompanied by his parents was a very different thing from the leisurely stroll down the street he was taking with Hermione. She had wanted to bring him to a theater by her old house after eating at her favorite Italian place… this was her idea, so he just went with the flow and let her drag him around.
The restaurant had not been very fancy, and he was horrified when it came down to paying the check -he had not even spared a thought on obtaining muggle money for the evening. Hermione paid for everything on a little plastic card she assured him contained money, and he wondered at how such a thing could be possible.
He wondered if he should offer to pay her back? Or was it one of her independent-muggle things and she would be offended if he suggested it? He knew she had money, but it couldn't be that much, if the star rating advertised on the restaurant was any indication.
When they got to the movie theater, the place was thick with the smell of buttered popcorn, which Hermione assured him was perfectly normal. She ended up spending more plastic money on muggle snacks than the movie, which Draco didn't quite understand since the snacks didn't do anything- they didn't sing, they didn't change color or jump. They just sat there, and tasted like what the box said they would taste like. None of them even tried to bite you back, which didn't exactly seem like a bad point to Draco but it was still curious for the price.
The movie itself was not nearly as impressive as Hermione seemed to think it would be- it was basically just like a regular Wizard play, but with "special effects" instead of magic. Oh, and everything was flat.
Hermione had been acting jumpy all night, like she expected at any moment he was going to declare that this was the last straw and walk away. He was a little annoyed that all of these things he had used to think were beneath him made him feel ignorant, now. There were times when he would ask a question that seemed perfectly logical, and she would feel the need to giggle before she answered him, hurrying to stifle her laughter. It was annoying.
"Was this how you felt coming to Diagon Alley the first time?" Draco asked, curious, as they left the theater.
Hermione shook her head. "No, I was given a book when I was told what I was. Hogwarts, a History. I read it, and really it changed my life. It taught me what kind of things I should expect in the Wizarding world- I was still amazed, of course, but I was able to fake my way through acting natural pretty easily until I could get my hands on more books…"
The worst of it was the clothes she put him in- she told him he could wear his slacks, but forced him into some shirt with barely any sleeves made out of a cheap, soft material that wrinkled at his hips like it didn't fit. She assured him it did fit- T-shirts were supposed to be comfortable and looser on guys, usually. He didn't like anything about it. He felt like he was at war with the shirt all night- he didn't like how exposed it made his arms feel, and every time he passed anything reflective he grimaced at the way it made him look. If his mother saw him in it she would have a fit.
For the sixth time that night he glared at a passing window, and Hermione sighed. "I was in a hurry- it's the first thing I saw that was in my price range."
"You're a terrible liar. You just wanted to get me into the most abhorrent muggle clothing possible."
"Maybe I thought you would like it."
"Maybe you're trying to pick a fight," he countered, swiping down the front of his shirt as if he could brush out the natural wrinkling of the stretchy material.
She laughed, again, and he was once again left wondering what he had said that was so funny.
"I'm sorry," she said finally. "You're just… cute?"
He narrowed his eyes at her, knowing full well what she was throwing back in his face. Though, really, she looked a little apologetic as she said it. She obviously didn't mean any harm, but this date was still extremely annoying. He didn't like feeling stupid, especially about such irrelevant things as plastic money and boring snacks.
She shook her head. "I didn't mean to make you upset with this- if you don't like this kind of thing, we don't have to…"
"I'm fine. Stop worrying. There is only one thing I legitimately complained about all evening, and that's this horrible shirt. No, I don't like being confused by things, and I have zero experience around muggles, but I'm not running, so quite acting so concerned."
She gave him a strange look at that, and for a moment he wondered if he had said something that she didn't like. Then she smiled and nodded, conceding defeat. "You're right- I guess I just somehow expected you to tell me enough was enough… you should have seen your face when I told you I had money on my visa. It was part amusing, part scary."
Scary? Had he looked like he wanted to bolt? He shook his head, sighing. "Look," he said, pointing across the street. "An ice cream parlor. Something we can both agree is perfectly normal."
Hermione grinned, grabbing his arm as they waited for the light to cross the street.
…
He did it. He put in his resignation, and even finished his last day at work instead of just jumping ship and going home.
Ugh. What was he going to tell Hermione? Could he keep it a secret? After all, she would be gone at her own apprenticeship all day- it wasn't like she would find out where he was spending his time.
He groaned, shuffling through the last file-storage room he knew of in the Mansion. He still hadn't found that damn book, though he had been looking alone all afternoon. He didn't really want Hermione digging around too much- she could find something dangerous. Despite her rather surprising past reading materials, she knew very little about the majority of dark magic objects. Plus, many such objects that survived Ministry raids were set with traps for anyone other than a pure-blood. He would have to find the book by himself.
Which he was beginning to feel was a fruitless task. The book wasn't here. He had managed to unearth an enchanted dagger, three bottles of poison, a pouch of ground bone that Draco hoped wasn't human, and a rebellious quill that kept trying to stab him. He locked the last back in its filing cabinet, hearing the faint "tap tap" of it fluttering about.
Just the usual dark objects. Nothing like a book on murderous, soul-splitting magic.
He sighed, dusting his pants with a sweep of his hands as he stood up. He should find Hermione, and give her an update.
On his search, not on his internship-quitting.
He walked hurriedly to her side of the Mansion. There was no door, no specific line that marked "her's" from the rest of the building, and Draco always felt a little awkward. Should he knock on the wall, or something? He was sure that at this point in their relationship, she wouldn't mind the intrusion, but at the same time he was still wary of making her angry with him.
He liked getting along with her. He liked seeing her happy.
He peaked into her sun-room, his hand raised to knock playfully at the open archway, and he saw that she wasn't there. The room was dark, the last rays of the setting sun just barely making the garden out back visible.
What time was it? Eight? Could she have visited her friends today?
He frowned, feeling slightly disappointed.
As he backtracked, he paused at the door to her room. She would probably not be happy with him for rooting through her personal space… but he wanted to see if she was home. He opened her door.
The bed was neatly made- no Hermione.
He shouldn't worry. She was probably with the Potters. If she were in trouble, she had a pretty clear way of letting him know. He rubbed his arm, remembering. The rings were truly horrible things- worse than most of the Dark Magic objects he had dug up this afternoon. What right did the Ministry have to inflict that kind of pain on them?
He headed off to his own bedroom, deciding that he would check in on her in the morning- just in case.
...
"You know, I don't usually drink…" she had said.
"It's my birthday! We're doing what I want!" Ginny had replied, grinning.
True, it was Ginny's birthday. Technically. They were having an actual party on Sunday at the Burrow, but right now it was Friday night and Ginny had been waiting for her after work. She wasn't really the "partying" type, and she wasn't aware Ginny was, either.
"Come on, you're my only real girl-friend! I want to see what a muggle club is like, and run amok! Isn't that what girls our age should be doing? I mean, on their birthdays?"
Hermione had had no choice but to agree, allowing herself to be dragged off. Harry hadn't made this much fuss over his birthday a couple weeks ago- but then, Ginny seemed to be growing more and more eccentric following life at Hogwarts.
And that's how she found herself, comfortable only thanks to the large amount of liquor ingested, in a place with loud music, loud dancing, and loud lights flicking all over the place. Ginny had even conjured up (literally) two fake ID's when Hermione told her the legal age for such places was generally 21.
Ginny sighed, cupping her hands over Hermione's ears so she could yell/whisper, "This is waaaaaay boring."
"This was your idea!" Hermione all but screamed back, trying to talk over the noise.
"But it looks so cool on the television Harry put in our house!" Ginny called, cocking her head to the side in thought. "Though I guess it would be more of a place for single girls, huh?"
The two had danced a little, though that was hardly Hermione's forte. The drinks, at least, were fruity and sweet, and so the two had basically been sitting in a corner knocking them back for the past… how long? An hour? Maybe?
"We could go somewhere else…."
"Where?"
"I don't know- it's your birthday! If you have a TV at home, we could rent a movie."
Ginny sighed, downing the last of her neon-green apple-tini. "Alright- sounds like a plan. But let's make it a movie that doesn't give me any more false hopes about muggle group outings- though the drinks weren't terrible."
Hermione laughed, leading her friend out towards the exit after settling the bill. Her funds were getting a tad bit low lately… she needed to be more careful how she spent her money until her apprenticeship was finished and she got a real job.
The two walked down the street, Hermione trying to remember where there was a video rental place. They were both a tad bit more giggly than usual, and it suddenly struck Hermione, in the midst of laughing at Ginny's new twisted sense of humor, that it probably wasn't a good idea for the two of them to be walking around plastered. Not with Death Eaters on the loose… though if anyone was going to look for Hermione, they would never think to start anywhere near a club in the middle of the night.
With that thought in mind, Hermione hurried them to a video store, keeping with the crowds of people as a safety precaution. They were just about to choose "The Wizard of Oz" (after a rather lengthy explanation to Ginny, who found the plot hilarious), when Hermione happened to glance up at the clock with slightly blurry drunk-vision.
She really couldn't hold her liquor. Did the clock say it was almost eleven, or almost twelve?
"Uh, Ginny…" She managed, pointing at the wall clock.
Ginny stared, then with a great sigh grabbed the DVD from Hermione's hands. "I'll go finish my birthday fun with my husband- I forgot that you turn into a pumpkin at midnight."
Yep. Definitely almost midnight. In fact-
Suddenly, everything around her lurched forward, throwing her through a blurry wave of colors. She was amazed she was able to hold down her drinks, moving so rapidly as her ring pulled her home, depositing her roughly in a crumpled heap on the floor.
...
He jolted straight up in bed, instantly awake, as he heard a strange howling wind followed by the loud, thumping sound of a body smacking into the floor of his bedroom. She cried out, surprised, as she fell to the floor, and she didn't stand up immediately afterwards.
She groaned.
"Hermione? Are you alright?" Draco asked, sliding out of his bad and kneeling down next to her on the floor.
"Uuuugh…" she managed, holding her stomach. "I should really learn to keep better track of time… that… jostled things around a bit more than I expected."
She was dressed in muggle clothing with high heels, a bag thrown around her shoulder and the smell of alcohol coming off her breathe. He stared- it was certainly a unique picture for the prudish bookworm.
"Ginny… birthday…" she muttered, still leaning over.
"Are you… going to be sick?" Draco felt the need to ask, and Hermione shook her head.
"Just give me a second. I'm fine… totally… fine…"
"Well, that'll teach you to drink and use a portkey," Draco muttered, not sure if he should find the situation as funny as he did. Where exactly had the red-head dragged her off to? How had she completely forgotten about her curfew?
"I hate these damn rings…" Hermione murmured, finally throwing back her head and looking up at Draco. He was looming over her, one hand touching her shoulder. "Damn lucky Ginny… she didn't have to worry about this crap. She's watching Dorothy go down the yellow brick road by now while I'm trying not to pass out on my boyfriend's hardwood floor."
Draco had no idea what she was talking about, and rolled his eyes. "It's your own fault for forgetting the time… you know, if I went with you you wouldn't have had to worry. It just ports you to me."
Hermione waved a flopping hand in front of her, waving him off. "Yeah, but Ginny insisted on a girl's night out… been watching too much trashy TV… wanted to see a nightclub, so that's where we went, and I said I don't usually drink, but I did, and by the end there were so many lovely little umbrellas littering the table we could have started a shop."
Draco smirked. "You know we're meeting your parents for brunch, right? That was the plan? Tomorrow?"
"Ah!" She smacked her forehead with her palm, closing her eyes tight. "Crap. I didn't think I would drink so much."
"Well, we'll get you a potion for the hangover you'll no doubt be nursing in the morning, but for now you should probably get some sleep."
"Got it. Yes, sleep would be good. Sleep would be best, right now…" She took a deep breath, then stood up abruptly, Draco following her movement. She seemed like she would be completely okay for a few seconds, and then all of a sudden she reached up and touched her head, tilting to the side.
Draco grabbed her, throwing an arm around her waist and sighing. Drinking plus porting was very, very not-smart.
She leaned on him heavily, her face red. "Sorry…" she muttered, "Can I just sleep here? Apparating sounds awful and walking back sounds dangerous."
Draco snorted. "Of course you're staying here. Get in the bed."
She just stared at him for a moment before nodding, pushing away from his support and plopping down on his plush comforter. She slipped off her heels, letting them plop to the ground, as she slid under the covers. She curled into a ball, hugging the pillow but keeping her eyes open.
"Thanks," she said simply, still watching him.
He moved around the bed, crawling in next to her. She flipped over, facing him.
"What?" he asked, wondering at the strange almost investigative look she was giving him.
"Why don't we always do this? Why don't you just stay with me at night?" she asked, her words a little slurred together but still very clear to Draco's ears.
He raised his eyebrows. Definitely too much to drink. "What are you talking about?" he tried, rolling onto his back to look up at the canopy.
"It's weird, right? I know it's weird… but after that one time, you stayed with me, and I really liked it. I like having you here…" she muttered, her eyes starting to flutter as she draped an arm over his chest. "You're warm."
He shook his head, smiling to himself in the darkness. "You're a rambling kind of drunk, aren't you?"
He looked over, and saw that she had already fallen asleep.
...
A/N: Yes, I skipped a lot of birthdays. Draco, Harry... I just didn't think they were that important to the plot. Let's just say Draco and Hermione were not very close during his birthday, and Harry preferred a more "private" night out with his wife. There. Problem solved. XD
