A/N: Don't let the chapter title get you too excited. It's literally six in the morning and I've been writing this for the past eight or so hours and it's lightly edited. Please forgive any errors.

TW: self-image/self esteem/body image issues.
TW: mild sexual language.
TW: magical prejudice(s).

Narcissa Malfoy would say the best part of losing the war was being able to shop at Muggle stores without shame.

"The Dark Lord never understood that wizards lack a penchant for craftsmanship."

"Probably because Goblins have been making our things for half a millennium," quipped Draco.

They left Harrods with a twelve seat dining table to their name, set to be delivered two weeks later. It was a smokey grey piece that would fit perfectly at the centre of the new dining room, complementing the white walls. As with the rest of the manor, the room had always been dark. Like a stormcloud had settled over the garden and light could barely filter in, except the cloud had remained there for twenty-seven years. They were at a French curtain shop Narcissa found in Islington, but Draco's thoughts were concentrated elsewhere.

"When Goblins start making curtains, our problems are solved. Until then, we buy from the best and the best happen to be Muggles. I suppose they have creativity to replace the magic in their blood. If they made traditional robes I would never set foot in Diagon Alley again."

The ability of Draco's parents to completely miss the point stopped surprising him long ago. As much as she claimed to loathe them, Narcissa always spoke to Muggle shop staff as if they were her equals. The knowledgeable ones, at least. Honestly, she was more at ease shopping in Muggle London than almost anywhere else. After a few years, Draco understood his mother gave time to Muggles who could serve her in some capacity. Servitude made them tolerable, made them respectable.

"What of these for the dining room?" Narcissa asked, pointing to a set of dark grey curtains.

"Those look too dark. A bit sad, almost."

"They are not sad, they are bland. You do not want curtains to detract from the rest of the room or the view of the garden."

"If you are so set on this, why am I even here?" asked Draco.

"I am not set on this. You are the one who is so determined to renovate the manor. After you took down the portraits our family's had for centuries and called in that awful Hedgeflower woman to destroy part of the first floor, can you blame me for wanting to supervise the rest of this project?"

"She is not destroying the room; Gwen is repurposing it. As I said, mother, I cannot make a decent future for myself in a home that is stuck three centuries in the past."

Narcissa sighed heavily and moved along to another section of curtains.

"I only wish you had more respect for tradition."

"Tradition nearly got me twenty years in Azkaban."

"Yes, well, this little revelation of yours is inconvenient but if it keeps you on a forward path I will tolerate it."

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "My recovery is such an inconvenience, isn't it? Almost as big an inconvenience as living with the Dark Lord and being put on trial for my father's crimes. Truly, mother, I apologize for being such a colossal fuckup that you have to come out and shop for some bloody curtains."

"You know I enjoy it." Narcissa let everything Draco said roll off like she hadn't heard it at all. "My point was that you are moving forward, even at the manor. You seemed to have a nice time on your date with the Granger girl."

Draco stopped dead in the middle of the aisle to ask, "How do you know about that?"

Narcissa quirked a brow and flipped through some more curtains as she said, "I know everything that goes on in my house."

"My house."

"You are avoiding the question."

"Yes," he admitted, "I had an excellent time, actually. We went out again yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Narcissa asked, turning to face her son. "You told us you were out with the young Mr. Queensbury." She frowned and wondered, "Did you lie to us?"

"I was afraid of your reaction. I do not want anything clouding my relationship with Hermione, least of all your opinion of her. My recovery casts a large enough shadow over everything."

Narcissa's expression softened.

"You truly care for her."

Draco nodded.

"For the first time in my life, I have found someone I can be honest with. Everything that Astoria saw as something rotten inside of me, Hermione accepts it. I don't have to hide from her and most times it feels too good to be true."

"Is it?"

"I can't tell. I know I hurt her when I left. Well, I hurt a lot of people when I left, but I never realized how much Hermione would care. What if I hurt her again?" He sighed, "I worry about making a mess of things, is all."

"Oh, my son, love is a mess." Narcissa smiled. "Not everything is your fault. The Granger girl never told you how she felt about you, and that was her doing. She dealt with the consequences. Now, are you two being careful?"

Draco shook his head and said, "We have not discussed it yet."

"Discussed?" Narcissa asked, surprised. "Quite the departure for you, isn't it? I thought it was a prerequisite."

"Not for her."

"I fear the answer, but I must ask the question." Narcissa took Draco by the shoulders and asked, "Could you light a candle for this girl?"

He nodded.

"Then there is nothing left to discuss on the matter." She pulled out another curtain. "Light grey, goblet pleats, I believe this is our winner. What do you think?"

Draco smiled and said, "I think you're right."

.oOo.

"This better be good, Malfoy, I've taken half the day off."

Bastien was the last of Draco's friends to arrive at Pansy's for tea on Tuesday afternoon. They huddled in her dining room; Blaise with his back facing the door, Pansy with her feet resting on the table, Bastien sitting with his front against the chair's back, and Theo avoiding Pansy's owl. (It always looked at Theo like it was ready to pluck his eyes out.)

"I have something to tell you, and it cannot wait any longer." He took a deep breath as they leaned forward all at once, anxious to hear but unwilling to guess. "Hermione and I have been on two dates and we are going out again next week."

Theo's immediate reaction was to ask, "When was your first date?"

"The 24th."

There was a collective groan around the table.

"Aw!"

"Dammit!"

"Alright, who won the pool?"

Pansy pulled a card out of her back pocket, scanned through it, then said, "Gabriel Truman had five days."

"That is skrewtshit!" Theo insisted. "He is dating Hermione's secretary and knows her schedule!"

"You knew that when you placed your bet," Pansy replied. "Alright, that's two Galleons from Blaise, seven Sickles from Bastien, and six Sickles from Theo." She pointed to the centre of the table and demanded, "Pay up."

Draco watched as his friends grumbled and pulled out their coin pouches. Pansy collected Gabriel's winnings and made a note on the card.

"You bet on how long it would take me to ask Hermione out?"

"No," Blaise countered, "we bet on the timing of your actual date. My money was on you shagging at her birthday party and, I confess, I am disappointed in you."

Draco asked, "How many people were in on this pool?"

"These three, Gabriel Truman, the Swiss Minister for Magic, the Portugese foreign minister, the entire French delegation, Alicia Weasley, Angelina Johnson-Weasley, the Head Unspeakable, the Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic, a couple blokes from the Improper Use of Magical Artifacts Office, the entirety of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Harry Potter."

Draco groaned, "I hate all of you."

"Sure you do," Theo quipped. "Now, tell us how it was."

"The dates?" Draco shrugged and smiled. "They were nice. We never had time to ourselves before, there was always someone with us. Now I do not worry about whether it is alright to kiss her, to hold her, to just ... I dunno, sometimes I look at her and wonder how the hell she ended up with me."

"Speaking for all of us," Theo said, "I think it's a wonder you stayed apart so long. Even my kids thought you should date her, and they don't really know what dating means."

"Well I do," Bastien cut in with a teasing smile, "and the third date's coming up. That's the big one."

Confused, Draco asked, "The big what?"

"The third date," Pansy clarified. "You're finally going to get the," she closed her eyes and threw her head back, "Ugh, ungh, Draco, yes, more, like that, ungh—"

Draco threw a biscuit at her and laughed.

"Shut up."

"True though," Bastien agreed, "third date's the sex date."

"Not for Draco," Blaise insisted. "He always has sex with someone before things get to that point. It is a prerequisite."

For the second time in as many days, Draco clarified, "Not for Hermione. I haven't even thought about it and we have not spoken about it. Are you sure the third date is the sex date? Not, say, the tenth?"

"Are you nervous?" asked Theo.

"I wasn't until you mentioned it." Draco let his head fall into his hands and groaned. "God, I am so out of practice."

"Perk up," Pansy said, nudging Draco's leg with her foot, "it's one of the few things you're good at."

"I haven't had sex since Astoria left me eleven months ago."

"It's like riding a broom. Once you learn, you never forget how to make someone feel good. But since you are fucking a woman this time, let's send Blaise to get some snacks. Don't want his delicate ears having to listen to a discussion about lady parts."

"Hey!" Bastien shouted in his defense. "Blaise has shagged women before."

Everyone's heads swiveled simultaneously to Bastien, who laughed.

"He never told you?"

Blaise flushed bright red as Bastien laughed even louder.

"Oh, Merlin's fucking bollocks!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "It must have been four years ago, now, we went to one of those orgy parties at the Silver Snitch. Blaise was drunk off his tits and ladies were all over him."

Blaise scrunched his nose up and groaned, "It was awful."

"You had a wonderful time," Bastien insisted through his laughter. "God, I remember it so well, imagine my shock when he actually made a woman—"

"Please stop," Blaise insisted. "How the hell did you talk me into that? Unfortunately, I remember that the foreplay felt like de-seeding a tomato."

They all burst into fits of laughter and Draco, for a moment, forgot about everything. He was not thinking about how his friends watched everything he ate. (Or didn't.) All thoughts of the manor renovation were absent. Even Astoria's voice at the back of his head had gone quiet.

It was a good time. Pansy caught them up on her time with Katie Bell, which was fairly serious by her standards. Blaise was still enjoying married life; waking up with Dean, shagging Dean, falling asleep with Dean, etc. Bastien and Padma were on a bit of rocky ground, as their jobs took up so much time they hardly had any left for each other. And Theo was hard at work, having taken on a Swiss client who needed a better Foe Glass. It was past five by the time they said their goodbyes and Draco felt better than he had in days.

.oOo.

Saturday afternoon, Blaise stared helplessly into Draco's closet.

"Why am I here?"

"Because I need help finding an outfit that says, 'Please, for the love of Merlin, do not have sex with me.'"

Blaise frowned.

"Are you nervous?"

"We are well past nervous, I am terrified." Draco glanced down at the floor and said, "This has been on my mind all week. I already feel like I am failing her, so I don't want to tell her I am afraid. I need her to not want me yet."

"She has wanted to fuck you for months," Blaise replied. "You do not see the way she looks at you when you are not paying attention. It is like watching a child in Honeydukes when they realize they cannot afford the giant licorice dragon on the top shelf. If your goal is for Hermione not to want you then you don't need an outfit, you need a Time-Turner."

Draco groaned and leaned back against the doorframe. Blaise placed a hand on his shoulder and asked,

"Why are you so afraid of something you have done countless times before?"

"Because I haven't, have I? Dating Hermione is different because all of you, everyone who has been with me like that has only ever seen what I let them. What you wanted to see. She sees everything and if I let her touch me ... If we do this then I cannot hide anything from her."

"I don't understand."

Draco closed his eyes and tried to think of a better way to explain it.

"Gabriel said some things to me that I cannot get out of my head. Once he knew about her condition, he said it was like he saw Romi for the first time. He pointed out all these things about me, about my body that I know Hermione is going to see. Once she does, she won't want to do this. She will say I have too far to go and ... and ... She's going to leave me before we have a chance to make this work."

"You have to stop doing this," said Blaise. "Hermione probably wants this more than you do. If she didn't, she would have walked out of your life when you walked out of hers."

Ouch.

"I know what you felt like when you were in the middle of this ... disease. I always knew something was wrong because you never looked quite right in yourself. There was nothing between us because you were nothing. Sex was how you continued to play your part, trying to be what the world made you out to be, including me, and you hated every moment of it."

"I am trying," Draco insisted, "I am trying so hard to hate myself less, but when I look in the mirror I don't find anything worth much."

Blaise leaned against the other side of the doorframe and crossed his arms.

"Do you know why we separated?"

"Because we never wanted it to be anything more than it was."

Blaise shook his head.

"We separated because you stopped being my friend and became what you thought I wanted in a boyfriend! (And thank God, because I cannot imagine my life without Dean.) You are a performer. You try to be what people want you to be, even when it pulls you in more directions than you can count. Perhaps it makes me an awful friend because I never said anything, but you have never been with someone as yourself. Maybe you were with Gabrielle, and that is why you broke things off before they really started. I think you are afraid to shag Hermione because you don't know what to be for her."

Draco swallowed thickly and admitted, "You're right. She wants me to be myself, and I dunno who that is."

"Then you practice! You figure it out, what works for both of you."

"But if I am not good enough on the first go—"

"What? Do you think Hermione has gone through all this just to dump your arse if the sex is a bit awkward? Either way, you know it will not end poorly for her. If I can make a woman come, Draco, you can do it from beginning to end with your eyes closed." Blaise tilted his head a bit and softened his tone. "Tell me, honestly, what is it you are afraid will happen?"

Draco sighed and groaned, because this is the one thing he didn't want to tell Penelope. But he had to tell someone, didn't he?

"I am afraid Hermione will see me without clothes and it will remind her that I'm ill. I am afraid she will feel sorry for me or, even worse, be so turned off that she does not want to go for it. But, of course, I don't see what she sees. All this weight is heavy and gross and I wouldn't want to fuck me if I was her. What if she touches me and it feels like Astoria all over again?"

"If you are not ready for this, then tell her."

"But—"

"You hate yourself so much and I understand that," Blaise interjected, "but I cannot understand your lack of confidence in Hermione. You have to trust her to make her own decisions. If she invites you in, then she wants to have sex with you. It is that simple. You are doing all these excess calculations in your head because it is what you always do, trying to figure out what someone wants. The only thing Hermione wants is you."

"What if I'm not enough?"

"Look at me and tell me that is a possibility."

Draco met Blaise's gaze, but said nothing. It felt wrong, hearing Blaise say it out loud. He hadn't completely closed himself off to the possibility. Even in his darkest moments there was always a What if? to keep him going. Part of him, a small part, looked at his future and saw Hermione everywhere. Draco was not willing to give up on that.

"Tell me you believe you are not enough for her," Blaise demanded. "That you do not see a future with her, that you could never love her the way I love Dean or the way Theo loves Tracey. Tell me you believe you aren't enough!"

"I could be!" Draco nodded to himself and repeated, "I could be."

.oOo.

On Sunday, Draco quickly realized his friends were right about the third date. Hermione wore a cardigan over a camisole that was far more revealing than usual. Her skirt was just on the right side of too short and had Draco glancing at her arse any time she stood up from the table. When they were on her doorstep at the end of their date, Hermione asked the question Draco had been dreading.

"Do you want to come inside?"

He thought about it all through dinner. He'd thought about it for ages after Blaise left on Saturday. Draco kept coming to the same inescapable conclusion. He ran a hand across his face before saying,

"I would love to, but I don't think I am ready for that quite yet."

Hermione shrugged.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Draco asked. "That's it? I was so worried you would be disappointed—"

"I am disappointed," Hermione replied, "but I can wait."

"You said you were tired of waiting for me."

"Yes, when you were still sorting yourself out after your ... absence."

Everyone implicitly agreed to refer to Draco's time in Paris with that word. He'd never admit how much he appreciated it. There was not much of a negative connotation. At least, not compared to "that time you left us all for three months" and "that time your friends thought you ran off to kill yourself." Yes, Draco quite preferred the word 'absence.'

"You are more to me than sex. You are my boyfriend and there is a difference between hating yourself and recognizing you aren't ready to take the next step. I'd be more worried if you came in and we did something you didn't really want to do."

"You mean that?" Draco asked with a wide grin. "I am your boyfriend?"

"Yes," Hermione said through a laugh, "you are. And I can wait until you're ready."

Draco placed one hand on the back of Hermione's neck and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss. God, it was so easy to get lost in her, to forget about the rest of the world and be unashamed of himself for these few, brief moments. He broke away and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I can assure you, if your skirts get any shorter you will not be waiting long."