October 2008

He absolutely did not need to be here this early in the evening, but if he'd stayed one second longer pacing his bed chambers like an agitated, caged animal, he'd either go insane or wear a hole through his wood floors.

Draco leaned back against the marble bar and cast his eye around the lavishly decorated Great Hall of Hogwarts. Leave it to Narcissa Malfoy to spare no expense, even if she might not openly approve of what Hermione's fund represented.

Draco's mother approached him a few weeks ago claiming if he thought he could pull off an inaugural gala at such a historic venue in such a short span of time then he was indeed, barking mad. Draco accepted the disdainful olive branch on his mother's part and immediately put her in touch with Minerva McGonagall to offer her services as part of the planning committee for the event. Hermione decided to hand the reins over for this, party-planning not being one of her joys in life, but Draco insisted that she at least deliver the opening remarks.

Draco had insisted on several things this evening, some of which he already regretted. She'd wanted to arrive at the gala on Draco's arm, a suggestion he resoundingly quashed. He argued their relationship announcement would pull the focus from Hermione and her cause for the evening, and he'd be damned if he let himself steal any of her thunder tonight.

He wished he hadn't been so vociferously against the idea now, nursing a glass of whisky and trying not to frown as guests filed in and sent glances his way that ranged from curious to aggressively suspicious. Susan Bones at least had given him a friendly wave and nod as she passed by on the arm of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Hermione had done her best to convince Draco that she wanted to be seen with him, wanted the whole world to know about them, but Draco couldn't and wouldn't relent on this point. Tonight was not the night to get tongues wagging about their romance, but for Hermione to introduce her paradigm-shifting ideas to the wizarding world at large and jumpstart her dream of a more equitable society. Draco wasn't sure where he fit into all this, if Hermione's grand vision for the future included him in any capacity.

A harried-looking Minerva McGonagall approached him then, pulling Draco briefly from his melancholy.

"Oh there you are Mr. Malfoy. You'll be pleased to know everything seems to be going smoothly thus far. I look forward to greeting our guest of honor when she arrives."

Draco inclined his head politely at the older woman. "The Great Hall looks wonderful, Headmistress. Allow me to once again thank you for letting my mother exercise her creative side and assist you with the preparations." In the distance, Draco spotted Narcissa imperiously directing several of the catering staff, completely in her element.

McGonagall waved an impatient hand. "Yes, well, her taste is impeccable and she took quite a bit off my plate."

She accepted a glass of gillywater from the bartender and then turned to appraise Draco. "If you'll forgive an old woman her sentimentality, I must say Mr. Malfoy that I am truly in awe of this accomplishment. I do hope you're proud of what you've achieved here tonight. Thanks to you, generations of young witches and wizards will benefit. And though I may not live to see it, I hope this initiative helps bridge the societal divide that has plagued our world for far too long. This is a fine thing, a fine thing indeed."

Draco had no idea how to eloquently respond to such high praise from the formidable witch, one not known for doling out compliments lightly. "That's… thank you, Headmistress… I… I really think it's Granger you should be praising."

McGonagall's mouth formed a thin frown. "Accept the praise for your work, Mr. Malfoy. You should allow people to believe the best of you."

Draco shrugged and averted his eyes. "I'm not so sure I've done much to engender such good faith from others."

"Professor Dumbledore believed in you. As did Professor Snape," she retorted gently.

"Perhaps, but neither one of them bothered to ask after my well-being during my Sixth Year. You were the only teacher, you know. The only one that entire year who asked me if I was all right."

He met her gaze then, knowing they both remembered that disastrous time at the school. What Draco had said was painfully true. When he'd skived off classes and missed assignments, McGonagall gave him detentions, and rightfully so, but there had been a few moments when she'd shown genuine concern for him, which was more than any other adult could say at that time.

"Mr. Malfoy, this is most unlike you to perform such subpar work, is something the matter?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I recently heard you've resigned from your house quidditch team, is something going on?"

"Mr. Malfoy, you're looking rather peaky, are you sure you don't require the hospital wing?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm quite aware I am not your Head of House, but please do come see me during office hours if you have anything you wish to discuss, be it Transfiguration related or otherwise."

For a split second, her frown faltered with a twitch to her iron jaw, but she quickly masked whatever emotion had tried to surge to the surface. "Yes, well… do excuse me, I need to ensure the corridors are empty. Some of the students are quite keen to sneak in tonight."

She patted his hand in an awkward way and then bustled off.

A frantic movement approached then and a tornado in the form of Ginny practically sprinted up to Draco's side.

"Laugh like I've just said something really funny."

"Pardon?"

"Laugh like my brother just tried to curse you but ended up burping slugs."

Draco couldn't help but snigger at the memory while Ginny latched onto his arm and guffawed heartily, though it lacked all sincerity. A flash to his immediate right let Draco know a photographer captured the manufactured moment.

Ginny threw a wink behind Draco, and he noticed a scrawny young man who looked vaguely familiar lower the camera and flash her a grin.

"What are you playing at Ginevra?" Draco asked with a frown.

She smiled widely. "All part of the plan, my dear friend."

"This plan being Granger's friends take turns babysitting me all evening?"

"No, you twat, I'm laying chum for the gossip-hungry public. 'Say is that Harry Potter's wife being friendly with the Malfoy heir? He must be a stand-up bloke after all!' Rinse, repeat, and then when you lay one on Hermione later in front of the crowd, we'll all applaud and dab our eyes."

He arched a brow at her. "If that's how you think this evening will proceed, I'm afraid you are going to be sorely disappointed. I'll give you this, the staged photo was a nice touch. We'll make a proper pureblood of you yet with that sort of society cunning."

Ginny barked out a laugh. "Hardly. No, that move was pure Weasley manipulation. I'm the best of the bunch, you know. Being the youngest gave me a distinct advantage over them all."

"Do tell," he motioned to the bartender for sparkling water and charmed it a champagne color for her.

"Cheers!" She clinked her glass against Draco's. "As I was saying, I watched every single one of my brothers' mistakes and instead chose to embody all their best qualities, thus making me the best of the lot. See, I have Bill's cool factor, Charlie's athletic ability, Percy's ambition, Fred and George's sense of humor, and Ron's loyalty."

She daintily sipped her glass and smacked her lips. "Excellent year," she quipped in a passable imitation of Draco.

She smoothed down the deep green fabric of her dress robes. "Thank Merlin for loose robes, the little goblin growing inside me is finally starting to show. At least my tits are bigger now." She glanced down at her chest as Draco pointedly looked away.

"Your complete and utter disregard for propriety astounds me."

Ginny shrugged. "I think I'm rather charming, personally. Oooh look how big Hannah's getting! I should ask her where she gets her maternity robes, she looks like a fertility goddess."

"That's Longbottom's wife? Best of luck to them… not sure I'd trust him to hold a newborn."

"Another word against Neville and I'll hex your bollocks off. But speaking of hexes, look at all the women glaring daggers at poor Gabrielle." Ginny snickered. "Fleur's got her work cut out for her there… Merlin she's worse about Gabby than mum was about me at that age. I think Madam Greengrass is seriously considering cursing the poor girl because her husband can't keep his eyes where they should be…"

"The Greengrasses are here?"

He spotted a familiar trio of expensively-robed people across the hall. Madam Greengrass seemed to be chastising her husband underneath her breath, eyes constantly flicking to where Gabrielle Delacour stood some 20 feet away, chatting with Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and her husband, Rolf.

Draco frowned, noting a younger woman (Astoria?) standing beside her bickering parents looking about the hall in mild interest. The other sister (Daphne?) didn't seem to be in attendance tonight and the witch who was maybe Astoria was dateless, a very rare sight for a pureblood woman of marrying age.

True to his prediction when he originally pitched this idea to McGonagall, a decent amount of pureblood families interested in parting with their Galleons to get a ticket to this gala made up the attendee list; no doubt calculating the excellent goodwill that accompanied donating to a cause championed by and named for Hermione Granger.

Remaining at the bar with Ginny, the pair contented themselves with crowd-watching for the time being, Ginny bemoaning that Harry always made the social rounds at these things, her husband too polite to give people the short-shrift. Eventually, the savior of the wizarding world graced them with his presence and eyed Ginny's glass warily.

"It's sparkling water, I charmed it for your little lush so she wouldn't feel left out," Draco drawled.

"Cheers Malfoy. Seen Hermione yet?"

He shook his head. "No, we got ready separately. She should make her entrance soon." He glanced at his watch.

"Why didn't you just escort her tonight?" Potter asked but Ginny elbowed him. "Leave it, Harry," she admonished quietly and Harry rolled his eyes.

They were joined a few minutes later by Ron and Padma and Ron grinned at the sight of Draco and clapped him on the back as the camera flashed again.

"Evening, Weasley," Draco said stiffly, unappreciative of the enthusiastic greeting.

Ron had lately taken to being greatly amused as opposed to enraged by Hermione's relationship with Draco, dialing up the chummy behavior whenever they were all together and it exasperated Draco to no end, something that surely entertained the other man.

"Smart of Hermione to hire Dennis as the photographer," remarked Ron. Ah, so that's why the young man looked so familiar. The younger Creevey brother.

"I thought he worked at the Ministry? Wasn't Colin into photography?" asked Padma.

"He does it as a side gig," commented Harry. "As a tribute to Colin."

The one decision Hermione had made in the planning for tonight had been press coverage. She said she had a specific photographer in mind and the only member of the press allowed on the premises would be Parvati for Witch Weekly.

A piece of conversation murmured by Ron caught Draco's ear. "…Andromeda should have her hands full tonight. Minding that many Weasley grandkids."

"Teddy's helping her out, it'll be good for him," said Potter.

Ginny leaned across Draco to deposit her empty glass on the bar with a clarification muttered under her breath for his benefit. "Though this cause would mean a great deal to her, returning to Hogwarts is hard for her."

That saved him at least one awkward reunion this evening.

A light smattering of applause from across the Great Hall drew their attention, and Hermione finally graced the gala with her presence.

Fuck.

Draco's carefully thought-out plan for the evening: maintain his air of cool detachment as merely a wealthy patron of this new charitable initiative, in attendance because he thought the cause worthy and his mother served on the planning committee. He'd certainly dressed the part in his best black formal robes, complete with silk waistcoat and polished silver fastenings. He would make polite small talk with Hermione if she approached him at all in public.

Draco's carefully thought-out plan for the evening: now in imminent danger of being blown to smithereens.

Hermione looked incandescent in fine, flowing robes of midnight blue, richer in color than the night sky reflected in the enchanted ceiling of the hall above them. She moved with grace and poise through the admiring crowd of potential donors, smiling endearingly in that humble way of hers, as if she didn't deserve all the accolades and adoration from the people around her.

Lips that only he would kiss painted a deep merlot.

Hair that only he would stroke pulled off her face in a loose chignon.

Bare skin that only he would caress peeked out at the collarbone.

His heart clenched in his chest at the sight of her, to be able to see but not touch. This incomparably radiant witch outshone everyone in her orbit and beyond, as she swanned through the room. When she swept an errant curl off her shoulder, a flash of deep blue caught his eye. The ostentatious sapphire necklace gleamed around her throat.

"Oh my gods Malfoy, are you serious?" Ginny snorted, staring at Hermione's neck, the sparkling jewel easily visible even at a considerable distance.

A small victory, but Draco relished in it nonetheless. He may have refuted Hermione's idea to debut their relationship tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't stake his claim in another way. He'd owled the necklace over a few hours ago with a note asking if she would do him the modest favor of wearing the piece tonight. A perfect strategy in a way; if he'd gifted it to her in person, she would most likely have balked at the size and cost. This way, Draco didn't have to listen to her nonsensical protests and he was rewarded with the sight of jewelry he'd purchased dangling from her elegant neck and resting just above her décolletage.

Mine.

"Mate," Ron leaned over and spoke to Draco in a hoarse whisper. Draco bristled at the friendly term, but denied himself the pleasure of jinxing him over it because they were in public. "Send me the name of your jeweler, yeah?"

Draco smirked and bit his tongue, longing to throw out a quip about Weasley's sheer inability to afford something as exquisite as the sapphire and white gold piece he'd specially commissioned for Hermione, but decided it served his best interests to play nice.

Potter chuckled on Draco's other side. "Blimey Malfoy, trying to compensate for something?"

"Really Draco," Padma chimed in, "the more observant in the room are going to start speculating about where that rock came from. Hermione is usually much more subtle in her taste."

Draco shrugged, the brief surge of smugness at the sight of Hermione wearing the necklace dissipating quickly.

"We're going to greet her now, just come with us," urged Potter. Draco shook his head, steadfast in his resolve to maintain his distance for the evening. Ginny quietly admonished her husband again and shot Draco an apologetic look as the foursome moved away.

Draco watched them go, a strange feeling in his chest. As they surrounded their friend, greeting her enthusiastically with hugs and light pecks, he named the feeling as envy. Oh how he wanted to approach her openly, wind his arm around her waist, press his lips to her cheek, let everyone on the fucking planet know that this witch, this magnificent witch, allowed him to be in her life, by her side.

Hermione's bright eyes lifted suddenly in his direction and Draco hastily turned towards the bar.

Coward.

This night is not about you. This night is not about you. This night is not about you and your pathetic fucking emotions.

I am okay with this.

"All right there?" Draco glanced to his right to find Maureen Tyler sidling up to the bar with a cheeky grin.

"Good evening Miss Tyler," he said in bemusement.

"All you posh types are the same. You can just call me Maureen."

Draco gave her a tight-lipped smile over his glass. "Enjoying the gala, Maureen?"

The younger woman fiddled with her wine glass. "Surprised to see you here, if I'm being honest."

"Oh? You're surprised to see me at a charity event?"

She snorted. "Nah, I looked you up, you've more money than God. Didn't realize causes for Muggleborns were even on your radar."

Draco frowned. "Yes, well I think the idea has merit, if you must know."

Maureen shrugged. "McGonagall invited me," she said abruptly, looking nervously across the room. "Said it would be nice to have notable Muggleborn alumni in attendance."

Draco followed the woman's anxious gaze and saw she stared at Hermione.

"Can't believe I'm in the same room as her," she mumbled and sipped her wine.

Draco barely succeeded in hiding his smirk. So tough Maureen Tyler was starstruck by Hermione Granger?

"Are you not teammates with Potter's wife? Surely you could just ask her for an introduction?" drawled Draco, holding in a laugh.

Maureen shook her head frantically. "Christ, no! I don't want to come across as some creepy fan-girl!"

"Have posters of Granger up in your bedroom do you?" teased Draco.

"No, smartarse. She's just… y'know…" Maureen took a deep sip of her drink. "She's done so much for us Muggleborn witches. Right after I got my letter, I had my dad help me look up others like me and Hermione Granger just… I just couldn't stop reading about her. This powerful witch and she came from Muggles, just like me." She trailed off and narrowed her eyes at Draco as if daring him to make fun of her. "You probably wouldn't understand that, but yeah, I really look up to her."

Part of him really did want to laugh, but not for the reason Maureen would think.

"I can arrange an introduction if you'd like," he offered.

Maureen eyed him with skepticism. "You? You're chummy with Hermione Granger?"

Woke up next to her this morning, didn't I?

"We were at school together."

Maureen snorted disbelievingly again. "Mmmhmm, think I'll take my chances. Maybe McGonagall will force her over here. Oi," she said suddenly, her attention diverted. "Who's that fit bloke next to her?"

"Dean Thomas."

"You go to school with him too?"

Draco grimaced. "What are you, just 20? He's too old for you."

"Ugh, you sound like Mac. Speaking of, there's the old man!" She waved exuberantly at Wesley Macnair and his wife, who made their way over.

"Mo!" he greeted her with a fatherly hug. He nodded at Draco and looked puzzled. "Malfoy. Didn't expect to see you tonight."

Draco silently seethed but shook the man's hand all the same. "Mother was on the planning committee," he clipped.

Wesley shrugged and Draco remembered that Lara, his wife, was Muggleborn, explaining their attendance for the evening. Draco engaged in quidditch conversation with the group for a bit, but kept getting distracted.

Hermione made her way around the room, working the crowd and greeting as many guests as possible. Some of those guests happened to be of the male persuasion. Men who thought it appropriate to kiss Hermione's hand in greeting, some of the geriatric crowd even being so bold as to peck her cheek, and others who leaned in a bit too close to speak with her, lingering touches on her arm or back.

Mine mine mine mine.

But no, that was incorrect wasn't it? She wasn't his, not really.

Yours. Gods Granger, I'm fucking yours. Yours yours yours yours, miserably, unrelentingly yours.

He gripped his glass all the tighter, amazed it didn't break when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Draco Malfoy!" came the chirping, ethereal voice of Luna Lovegood, on the arm of a bookish looking fellow with tousled hair and neat glasses.

"Hello Lovegood," he said politely, tearing his eyes away from Hermione and her flock of admirers.

"Luna, please. This is my husband, Rolf," Luna introduced the men and Draco shook his hand.

"You're sitting next to us for dinner!" she enthused, looking positively elated at the prospect. Draco knew that Rolf Scamander used to work in Hermione's department at the Ministry, Hermione the one responsible for setting up Rolf with Luna.

"Luna speaks very highly of you," said Rolf in a slow, methodical voice. Draco glanced at her, confused, but she beamed back at him in that guileless way of hers. He tried to focus on his conversation with Rolf, a rather interesting wizard who traveled extensively while he worked on a follow-up edition to his grandfather's famous text, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, but his gaze kept getting pulled away.

Oh. Oh he was going to fucking eviscerate Cormac McLaggen. The slimy, creepy arsehole invaded Granger's personal space, speaking lowly with her, as she leaned back as far as her neck would allow, lips in a scowl. When the smarmy git gave her a winning smile and laid a hand on her forearm, Draco made a sort of strangled noise in his throat that he tried to mask with a cough.

Fuck this. He couldn't watch this, couldn't bear witness to other men like McLaggen thinking they had the right to even breathe in the same vicinity as Hermione.

"I'm sorry… Lovegood, Rolf, I've got to… go get some air," he set his glass on the bar and whirled away without waiting for a response. Loosening his bowtie, he stalked out into the Entrance Hall, away from the crowds and the painful sight of the woman he loved who stood so close, yet so far away from him. He leaned against the stone walls and closed his eyes, trying to pull air into his lungs.

He knew what happened next on the schedule. Hermione would give her opening remarks, then there would be the dinner, then Hermione would open the dancing. Draco suggested dancing with Potter, but she'd waved him off and said she'd just pull Arthur Weasley out there, as Harry was an abysmal waltzing partner.

But then what followed would be Draco's undoing. He'd have to skulk in the shadows and watch man after man beg for a dance from the Golden Girl herself. Hands that weren't his on her waist. Hands that weren't his clasped in hers. Why did he have to be such a spectacular idiot? Why did he think he could handle this evening pretending he wasn't wildly in love with her? The Calming Draught had already worn off.

He should have just stayed away, told Granger this night was hers and hers alone and he didn't need to attend. But no, once again Draco fell victim to his own hubris. And now he lingered out in the Entrance Hall, approaching the verge of a breakdown because of his own foolish pride.

A rustling of fabric coming near had him standing to attention and sorting the hair he'd just been running his hands through. His mouth fell open when he saw Hermione round the corner and head straight for him.

"What are you doing out here? Your speech is soon!"

Hermione ignored his question and fixed him with a hard, blazing look. "Luna said I'd find you here."

She stalked up to him and Draco forgot about every other thing in the universe as she grabbed him by the collar and pushed her lips against his. He responded eagerly, hands clutching her waist and turning her against the wall.

"Gods Granger, do you know how incredible you look tonight?" he panted into her mouth. She kissed him hungrily, trying to pull him even closer than their bodies would physically allow.

"You look dashing as well," she whispered as he trailed his mouth down her neck, right to that favorite spot of hers at the juncture of her throat and collarbone that always had her mewling. He licked a line up the delicious column of her skin all the way to her chin and she moaned.

"Thank you for the necklace, it's too much."

"It's not enough," he growled, re-capturing her lips and plundering the cavern of her mouth with his tongue. His entire being lit on fire as she scrabbled her hands against the fabric of his dress robes and undulated her hips into him. Far too much rich fabric separated the two of them.

"I'm going to murder Cormac McLaggen," he whispered the threat, his hand coming up suddenly to grab and knead her breast.

"I'm going to rip him to fucking pieces. Him and every other man who looks at you tonight." He thumbed a nipple over her dress robes and she keened, pushing her chest further into his hand.

Hermione took his face between her hands. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm going home with you. I'd be on your arm tonight if you weren't so bloody stubborn." Draco frowned but her lips attaching themselves to his neck distracted him.

"That's why you sent the necklace isn't it?" she breathed in his ear, tongue tracing the shell. "Admit it, Malfoy. You want everyone to know."

She pulled back to look him in the eye, a challenge painted on her features. "Say it," she demanded huskily.

He couldn't hold it in anymore, his cock impossibly hard while his heart hammered in his chest.

"You're mine," he rasped into a rough kiss, gripping her hips with force.

"Yes," she moaned. "And you're mine."

Draco couldn't tell which organ derived more pleasure from this statement, his prick or his heart.

"And if I see Astoria Greengrass eye you one more time, I'm personally escorting her out."

"Fuck, Granger, I love it when you get all possessive," he groaned. "I still think I'm going to hex McLaggen first."

Her kisses became softer, more languid, Draco following her rhythm and letting her take the lead. "No need," she responded in between lip locks. "Ginny's already hit him with a boils hex. He's been walking rather funny the last few minutes."

"She is definitely my favorite Weasley by far."

Time passed in an incoherent haze of bliss with Draco's palms full up with her breasts, Hermione's hands raking her nails against his scalp, tongues tangling deliciously. No longer caring about any other obligations for the evening other than shagging the daylights out of Hermione, Draco bunched the hem of her robes up and lifted, intent on getting his hands on some of her skin.

If this fantastic outfit wasn't so expensively crafted and required for the rest of her night, Draco would rip it off her in his lust-driven mission to worship her naked flesh. He'd finally succeeded in putting his hand up her skirts, feeling his way up her bare thigh while she panted into his mouth and writhed when—

"MISS GRANGER! MR. MALFOY!?" The piercing, shocked-beyond-belief yell of Minerva McGonagall made them spring apart.

A painful and excruciatingly embarrassed silence followed that, in Draco's mind at least, lasted for several years.

"Sorry Professor! I mean, Headmistress!" squeaked a flustered Hermione. Draco looked down at the tips of his dragon-hide shoes, like a randy little Fifth Year about to get the detention of his life. A ridiculous thought for a grown man, but gods if McGonagall didn't still exude that disciplinary aura over the pair of them at the moment. Draco snuck a sidelong glance at Hermione to see her eyes downcast, looking like a Head Girl in danger of losing her badge over this amorous offense.

McGonagall opened and closed her mouth a few times, her formidable mind seemingly unable to process the sight in front of her own eyes.

"Yes, well—if you two are quite finished, Miss Granger I came to collect you for your speech. The attendees are being seated for dinner now, so I expect you can begin in the next 10 minutes."

"Oh gods, my speech," she whispered, face going white for a different reason all together.

"Hey," Draco called softly. "You've practiced a thousand times and it's near perfect. You're going to do great."

Hermione gave him a nervous smile and nodded. She shot McGonagall another apologetic look and then swept past her back into the gala, head bowed and muttering under her breath. This left Draco alone with his former professor, who had just caught him with his hand up the dress robes and tongue down the throat of her favorite star pupil.

McGonagall eyed him with a distinct air of displeasure, lips pursed as she regarded him. Unwilling to bend under her stern gaze, he stood tall and straightened the sleeves of his robes. If she would chastise him for daring to sully Hermione Granger, then he would defend himself. He met her face defiantly and to his surprise, she rolled her eyes.

"Oh don't give me that petulant look, Mr. Malfoy, you misinterpret my ire completely," she huffed then admitted reluctantly, "Professor Dumbledore's portrait is going to be positively insufferable at this news. Sort yourself out and get seated, I expect Miss Granger will be looking into the crowd for you, specifically, during her remarks."

Leaving a gaping Draco in her wake, she turned on her heel and rejoined the event. Recovering himself a moment later, Draco followed suit, heading to his designated dinner table for the evening. He bit back a groan as he approached his esteemed table mates: Ron and Padma, Harry and Ginny, Rolf and Luna. Granger really did lack all subtlety.

Ron gave him a quizzical look as he walked up, then looked over at a harried-looking McGonagall, then at a pink-faced Hermione pacing behind the podium. His stupid face split into a devious grin, eyes alight with mischief, looking positively Fred-and-George-esque.

"No bloody way," he chuckled at Draco. "Tell me you didn't. Tell me McGonagall didn't catch you."

"Shut it Weasel."

"What's going on?" asked Potter, who should hand in his Auror badge for being a beat behind Weasley.

Ron leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, who immediately guffawed.

"How many house points did you lose for Slytherin?" Potter snickered.

By the time the group had settled down for the meal, the news of Draco and Hermione's indiscretion was known by the entire table. He sat between Ginny and Luna, the two witches constantly yammering in his ear, and Draco saw right through the pair of them as they tried to distract him from the gossips all around. The people at the neighboring tables weren't troubling to keep their stares or whispers to themselves at the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting friendly-as-you-please amongst the modern heroes of the magical world.

The lights dimmed and McGonagall gave a brief introduction for the witch that certainly did not need one. Hermione smiled bashfully at her former professor and the crowd as she took a deep breath and launched into her remarks.

Draco knew them so well by now he could have mouthed them along with her. She'd paced up and down his bedchambers almost every night the past two weeks reciting them at different speeds and cadences. He watched her eyes scan the crowd and then land on him, the slight quirk in her mouth and the calm settling about her eyes when she spotted him made his chest swell with pride.

Hermione confessed to loathing public speaking not academic in nature. She also confided that looking to him would ease her jitters, bolstering his ego once more. Ron would try to make her laugh, she'd said, and Harry had a way of reeking sentimentality that tugged at her heartstrings and made her emotional. Draco held her gaze, trying his best to exude the reassurance and validation he knew she would need.

As she wrapped up her heartfelt speech on what this fund would mean to future generations, she also thanked McGonagall and then extended her gratitude to the numerous witches and wizards who had assisted with planning tonight's event. Draco realized with a jolt that last group included his mother. Scanning the head table, he saw Narcissa seated amongst some of the Hogwarts professors, beside Flitwick. Hermione would dine next to McGonagall and Neville Longbottom, Draco thanking Merlin that someone had the foresight to keep Longbottom near Hermione and his mother as far from her as possible.

When dinner concluded, Draco's heart rate sped up again. He'd been almost relaxed at his table despite threatening to stab Weasley with his fork because the uncouth cretin made a comment about Malfoy not finishing his mashed potatoes and could he have them? Padma kept the peace by spooning her own unfinished meal onto her boyfriend's empty plate.

The plates, tables, and chairs vanished as the party-goers all stood to allow room for the makeshift dance-floor that appeared over the castle's stonework.

Draco watched Hermione delicately rise and walk down from the head table. She nodded at the orchestra conductor to begin the opening waltz. She approached Arthur Weasley, gave him an impish grin and then kept walking.

What in the blazes was she doing?

He threw a confused glance at Potter who was biting the inside of his cheek to hide a laugh, as was his wife. Ron stared at him, eyebrows raised, questioning how Draco didn't see this coming.

His throat went dry.

No, she wouldn't. Surely she wouldn't.

Hermione's measured and confident stride eventually landed right in front of him. Draco felt every single eye in the room on the pair of them as Hermione held up her small hand for him to take.

"Shall we?" Her light, teasing tone held a hint of a challenge. Draco accepted her hand and with it, the gauntlet she'd thrown.

All right then, if that's how you want to do this. Together it is.

Draco did not look left or right as he led Hermione to the very center of the parquet floor. Waltzing came laughably easy for him, years of being whacked round the shins by ancient dance instructors kept his posture perfect as he drew Hermione in by the waist. He clasped their hands together and held them aloft, Hermione using the contact to pull herself practically flush against him.

If she'd wanted an out, her proximity to Draco just snuffed it right out. There was no plausible excuse for their bodies to be this close unless they knew one another intimately—certainly not the waltzing position of two polite acquaintances or old school friends. She smiled cheekily up at him as Draco caught the tempo of the music and began leading her around the dance floor.

"No going back now, Granger," he whispered down to her. "You realize everyone can see us?"

"Good, because that was the general idea" she asserted. "I'm sick of not showing the world exactly who I am."

"Oh?"

He twirled her expertly, finding her an excellent and graceful dancer in her own right. Despite his nervousness about all the glares they were probably catching, a large part of him also preened like a peacock that they made a stunning and picturesque couple.

"Yes," she said primly as she completed the turn beneath his arm and returned to his embrace. "I am the witch who helped Harry Potter and countless others bring down Voldemort."

They glided into a seamless turn, working toward one end of the floor.

"I am the daughter of Muggles, ensuring no other Muggleborn is denied a fair shake in this world."

Draco led them backwards, returning to the center of the room.

"I am a fierce advocate for creature rights with more than a few welfare laws under my belt."

They spun leisurely through the last few bars of the song, revolving slowly on the spot.

"And I am the woman who is proud to be in the arms of Draco Malfoy."

Her heated gaze burned through him, and but for the large crowd watching their every move, Draco would have kissed her senseless in this moment. Hermione wet her lips, chin stuck out in defiance, daring him to contradict her statement, daring him to make a self-deprecating comment about his self-worth. But this time, Draco found he could only summon a feeling of immense pride at her words.

I love you.

The song over, Hermione stepped out of his embrace and executed a perfect curtsy while he bowed. Eyes meeting again, Draco surely grinned like an idiot, but then, so did she.

As if emerging from a fog, other couples joined them on the dance floor. Hermione stepped into his arms again, this time for a less formal dance. Draco covertly peeked around at the rest of the crowd, trying to gauge the varied reactions of all present for Hermione's little publicity stunt.

He became uncomfortably aware that Hermione's friends completely encircled them, forming a bit of a barrier amongst the dancing couples. The Potters looked stupidly smug, Molly Weasley dabbed at her eyes while her husband threw them an apologetic glance for her waterworks, Padma beamed and nodded encouragingly while the Weasel had the gall to throw Draco a thumbs up.

Seriously, one more disgustingly saccharine act of chumminess from Weasley and Draco would vomit.

Suppressing a lip curl and a sneer, he glanced around to see how others might be taking this surprising development between the guest of honor and her pureblood paramour. Cormac McLaggen looked furious, but also shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side. He'd have to congratulate Ginevra on the efficacy of her boils hex later.

Astoria Greengrass looked mildly amused and curious, while her parents looked stricken. He wondered idly if they'd still been hoping for a marriage contract between their families. McGonagall's countenance still looked resigned, but Draco swore he saw a corner of her mouth lift when their eyes met. Maureen Tyler looked as if she'd been too slow with her Beater's bat and taken a bludger full in the face. Beside her, Wesley Macnair appeared much the same.

Daring to seek out his mother, Narcissa displayed a study in impassivity, though her gaze never left Draco's. She briefly inclined her head at him in a show of recognition, the only reaction he would get for the evening. He would take it, for now. The rest of the room split between gobsmacked and indignation. Whether on Draco's behalf or Hermione's, he'd be wary of anyone who seemed put off by them appearing together.

As the song ended, Draco handed off Hermione to Arthur, and he took Molly in for a dance. The Weasley matriarch blathered the entire time about what a lovely couple they made, overcome with tears for most of their dance together, leaving Draco at a loss for words. She also reiterated his invitation to the Burrow for any Sunday dinner. Draco, though touched by her offer, remained unsure whether he would accept in the near future. That many Weasleys at once made him anxious.

Fleur claimed his next dance, outdoing even Draco with her waltzing capabilities. She regarded him stiffly at first, a few minutes going by before she spoke to him.

"You treat 'ermione well yes?"

"I certainly endeavor to, Mrs. Weasley."

"Fleur is fine," she replied tersely. "Arthur told us what you did for 'er," She waved a dainty, manicured hand around, indicating the gala and by extension, the charity. "Zat is quite a lot. I am sure 'ermione is grateful. I theenk you are trying, Monsieur Malfoy, and if you are good to her, I theenk we can be friends, d'accord?"

"Oui madame."

She narrowed her bright blue eyes at him. "I see you are very charmant, monsieur. Tread carefully." She attempted a glare, but he caught a curve to her lips. By the time they parted, he'd won over another member of the Weasley clan.

Luna and Ginny occupied him for the next two dances. The former surprisingly steady in her steps and the latter pretending to fawn and swoon under his attentions. Draco was quite glad to be shot of Ginny and her theatrics when their required time together ended.

"Potter, take your wife off my hands and for Salazar's sake, learn to dance a proper waltz yourself," he hissed and quite literally handed Ginny to Harry.

"Oh thank you for indulging me Sir Malfoy, I'm all of a flutter," she gasped dramatically and sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. Harry only encouraged her by snickering and Draco suspected the Boy Who Lived was well on his way to being the Man Who Tossed His Dinner into the Hogwarts Shrubbery After One Too Many Whiskys.

Feeling his time being babysat by all of Granger's friends had blessedly come to an end, he turned to finally make his way back to the bar when a slip of a witch stepped into his path.

"Hello Draco," she said demurely.

He had a 50/50 shot.

"Good evening Astoria."

Her lips quirked as if she knew he'd had to guess.

"If you have one more dance in you, I'd like to claim it."

He raised a brow at her boldness and reluctantly accepted her outstretched hand. Quickly looking around, he noticed Hermione's attention occupied by Minister Shacklebolt and his wife, which meant he could spare a few minutes.

Draco held Astoria stiffly and at a decent distance, in case Hermione's eye were to be on them at any moment, he wanted to ensure his behavior appeared far above reproach.

"Have you enjoyed the gala thus far?" asked Astoria, her lilting cadence connoted years of practice as part of wizarding aristocracy.

"It's certainly been a surprising evening," Draco said flatly.

"Hmm, yes, I would have to agree with you," she answered. "I do confess it was quite the surprise to see you in attendance. Though I think the reason has since made itself known." Her eyes glinted with mischief and she smiled up at him.

"Her cause is a worthy one," Astoria continued, more seriously. "My parents were conflicted as to whether to accept the invitation, but I managed to convince them it would be in their best interest."

"I didn't realize the educational prospects of Muggleborn children were near and dear to your heart," Draco deadpanned.

Astoria narrowed her eyes. "I could say the same for you," she said coldly and Draco felt properly chastened. Before he could apologize, she shook her head and beat him to it.

"I apologize, that was presumptuous of me." She bit her lip and regarded Draco thoughtfully. "I think you'll find we have more in common than you previously believed."

This had to be the longest proper conversation he'd ever had with this woman and they'd "courted" for a few months. Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, well, perhaps the fault lies with me. I fear I wasn't the best, ah, partner, when we were uh… together."

Astoria let out a tinkling, feminine laugh. "Oh gods, that was a disaster, wasn't it?"

Draco winced and Astoria's expression turned pitying. "I'm sorry Draco, but it's true. I'd be shocked if you even remember much of it at all. Please don't dwell on it, I don't hold any grudges. I think you were in a rather dark place during that time," she finished quietly.

"Perhaps, but still, you didn't deserve to be treated so poorly."

Astoria gave an elegant shrug of her shoulders. "We all have our demons. It does please me to see you doing well for yourself now, she's truly dazzling," she inclined her head in Hermione's direction. "You make a lovely couple. Although my parents may be a bit disappointed," she confessed with a smirk.

Had she been this entertaining when they were together? Draco's recollections of their courtship were hazy at best, what with being under the constant influence of alcohol to cope with life.

"Forgive me for the personal question, but I admit I am curious. No escort for you this evening?"

Astoria bit her lip and took her time formulating a response. "Yes, well, my designated date for the evening had a conflicting engagement. You're well acquainted with Theodore Nott of course?"

"Theo?" Draco sputtered inelegantly. "Theo was meant to escort you?"

"Hmm, indeed," Astoria said coyly. "Theo and I," she continued, seeming to weigh each word carefully, "we have a sort of… arrangement, you could say, when it comes to society events. As neither of us can bring the person we truly desire, we appear on each other's arms to appease my parents and his mother. Unfortunately he cancelled."

She tilted her head to the side and looked inquiringly up at Draco. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

Draco put his walls up. "If Theo hasn't told you, I'm afraid it's not my place to tell," he said loyally. He actually did know Theo's whereabouts: a family party for one of Sasha's brothers tonight to celebrate his birthday.

Astoria nodded, accepting his discretion. "I surmised as much."

They danced a few more turns in silence before Draco became overcome with curiosity. "And just who would have been your preferred partner for this evening, if Theo is not a real option?"

Astoria's turn to put the walls up. "As I said before, we have more in common than you previously believed."

As their dance ended, Draco stepped away and bowed politely. When he straightened up, he noticed Hermione approaching, a cold smile on her face. Draco held out his arm when she reached them and Hermione immediately hooked hers into the crook of his elbow.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met, I'm Hermione Granger," said Hermione imperiously, holding out her other hand to Astoria. Draco bit back a laugh at her blatant show of possessiveness.

My jealous little witch, staking her claim.

"Oh yes, of course I know who you are!" enthused Astoria, beaming as she shook Hermione's hand, unperturbed by the territorial display. "Astoria Greengrass. My sister Daphne was in your year at Hogwarts. I'm ever so pleased to meet you!"

A bit of Hermione's icy exterior melted at the friendliness of the other woman. "Yes, well, pleasure to meet you too. Enjoying your evening?" She cast a sidelong look at Draco, who bit the inside of his cheek, both amused and incredibly aroused by Hermione's protective behavior.

"Oh yes, this is just wonderful! I think your fund is a fantastic step in the right direction and frankly, long overdue!" Hermione looked rather taken aback as Astoria launched into a passionate rant about the intersection of the magical and Muggle world and how Muggle Studies had in fact, been her favorite subject. By the time Astoria concluded her bright-eyed praise for everything Hermione had ever worked on, Draco could tell she'd more than mollified Granger.

As Astoria gracefully swanned over to rejoin her parents, Draco finally let a chuckle slip. "Worried she was going to hook her little debutante claws into me?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes up at him. "Fine, she's a lovely woman, but can you blame me? The two of you dancing together was practically an advert for the glitz and prestige of the pureblood aristocracy. I'm sure your mother was salivating," Hermione finished bitterly.

Draco frowned, personally thinking Hermione probably wasn't wrong about Narcissa. "Never mind all that. I much prefer present company." That won him a genuine smile as she squeezed his arm.

"Right, well I could use your help if you don't mind making some more rounds with me. I'm beginning to suffer small-talk fatigue and you'll be in your natural element I imagine."

Draco spent the remainder of the gala at Hermione's side, her arm constantly looped through his. They received a broad range of reactions from the assembled guests (Draco's favorite being Professor Slughorn's rather insulting tone of incredulity for the entire time they were in his presence). While the reactions to their coupledom incited varied receptions and tones, the greeting never wavered.

"Hermione!" They'd smile at her, then their gaze would slide to the man at her side. "Malfoy."

"Hermione." A brief pause. "Malfoy."

"Hermione… Malfoy."

"Hermione… Malfoy."

"Hermione… Malfoy."

His brain decided to torture Draco by erasing the little pause of breath in between those two names, chanting repeatedly in time with his own heartbeat. Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy.

Fuck, but if it didn't sound so wonderful.


The ball finally wound down, and Draco could feel the relief rolling off Hermione in waves. People began bidding them goodnight at a higher frequency, reactions from the crowd growing considerably warmer towards Draco after he received friendly farewells from all the Weasleys and the Potters.

Potter staggered slightly as he kissed Hermione's cheek and said he had one more stop for the evening, and a flushed Ron followed him as they giggled like First Years and headed in the opposite direction of the apparition points and Floos.

"Where are those two knobs off to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, the pair of them. They make a point to sneak into the Head's office after every Hogwarts event so they can drunkenly spar with Professor Snape's portrait. Harry said he can't wait to inform him of our 'scandalous debut.' They love trying to get a rise out of him by adulating him for all his heroism." She let out a reluctant titter. "As you can imagine, Professor Snape positively loathes these visits."

The thought hadn't hit Draco until that moment, but he realized that not once this whole night had he been sucked into horrifying memories of battle, death, or destruction. Peering down at the witch tucked into his side, he knew the natural way she exuded lightness had touched even a warped soul like him.

"Think we could sneak out onto the grounds for a bit? Take a turn around the Black Lake?"

She met his quiet question with an enthusiastic nod. They strolled arm in arm into the chilly October night air, Draco casting a Warming Charm over both of them. Per a habit of Hermione's, she gave a lengthy rundown to Draco of how she felt the entire event had gone, much the way he imagined her to be after end-of-the-year exams.

When they reached the edge of the lake, Hermione grew silent, looking out over the dark water. The pearlescent moon above them reflected off the lake's surface, as well as Hermione's bright eyes and the sapphire at her throat. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, inviting the fall air into her lungs, and Draco watched her eyes flutter shut. He reached out and took her hand, letting her dwell on whatever memories had captured her while also offering any bit of solace he could provide.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his gaze and Draco's breath caught in his throat. The full impact of the evening, the weight of what Hermione publicly revealed, slammed into him with a brutal force. This veritable queen among women had declared to an entire crowd of people that she had chosen Draco to be at her side. She could have her pick of literally any wizard and here she stood, sharing a quiet moment at a place that meant so much to both of them. Good memories, horrifyingly violent memories, all the stunning and terrible history that the two of them had seen on these very grounds, Draco felt it all in that moment. He took her other hand and gently turned her to face him head on. Hermione shouldn't be the only one partaking in revelations tonight.

"It is odd, I suppose, to be standing out here with you," he began. "Odd that it should feel so natural. Yet at the same time, I can't tamp down the urge to check if I've still got my wand on me… Merlin, Granger," Draco chuckled darkly and shook his head, "that's how vulnerable I feel around you and it's bloody terrifying. But you also…"

He struggled to convey the gravity of her healing effects. "I don't feel broken with you, I don't feel like a failure with you. I actually like the person I am when I'm with you."

His throat bobbed, Hermione's keen eyes tracked the movement. "I suppose what I'm trying to say… what I'm doing a right terrible job of saying is—" He took a steadying breath, experiencing that exhilarating feeling from that suspended moment all those months ago in the dark hallway of her flat. Diving straight off a cliff ledge, willingly.

"From what I think I understand about love... it is equivalent to handing the other person your wand, knowing they could destroy you with it at any moment, but you hand your wand over regardless."

He faltered a bit, agonizing over how to properly express the depth of his feelings. "You… you are the only person, the only one that I… and I'd give you anything you asked of me, wand included."

His throat tightened then, and he wondered if the words would even make it out. But no stopping them this time. The stubborn little phrase rose up from his soul, clawed up his throat, and pushed past his lips.

"I love you. I love you Hermione."

There. Now his truth flew out in the world, given a life of its own.

Hermione beamed up at him and squeezed his hands, a sign that she would both accept and nurture that truth.

"I've never said those words, not to anyone," he confessed and averted his eyes in embarrassment.

"Draco." Her fierce tone forced him to look at her again. "I love you, too."

The wind stopped, the waters stilled, life all around them put on a temporary pause. Hearing the sincere echoing of his sentiments from her lips made Draco feel as if a Patronus Charm might just involuntarily erupt from his pocketed wand.

In her face he saw a mirror; a true reflection of happiness, wonder, and now, Draco knew for certain, of love. Grinning madly, he gathered her to him to seal the moment with a fervent kiss. Hermione's hands clutched his shoulders tight, inciting feelings of joy that she wanted and needed him in the same desperate way he required her to fucking breathe.

"I love you," he gasped against her mouth.

"I love you," her instant reply followed by a soft peck to his lips. He cupped her face and angled her head back to deepen the kiss.

Had he ever smiled so much during a voracious bout of snogging? But for the Warming Charms wearing off, he would have made love to her right there on the shores of the lake.

"Apparition point… now," Draco panted, reluctantly pulling away from her delicious and talented mouth.

"Agreed," she said breathlessly, interlacing their fingers and towing him towards the front gates with purpose. "You remember that green satin number I bought in France?"

"How could I forget? You'll put it on for me tonight?" Fuck, the coy look she gave him made his cock achingly hard.

"Not necessarily. You see… I also bought it in black."

The second they reached the apparition point, Draco lunged for her and fiercely fused their lips together before grasping her even tighter and apparating them straight into her living room.

Hermione never did get around to donning her fancy lingerie that night. Instead, she and Draco traded amorous whispers and confessions while they sought to bring each other to blissful states of pleasure.

Now that he'd declared his feelings to Hermione, Draco found the little phrase that had once rendered him sick over a sink in his healer's office the easiest thing in the world to say. It helped that Hermione seemed just as pleased to both hear it and return it each time.

"I love you… gods Granger, I fucking love you," he groaned as she kissed his bare chest and fumbled with his belt.

"I love you Draco…" she moaned when he sucked her nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the hardened peak.

"I love you… you smell like hyacinths and I bought… too many and put them all around my home to remind me… of you," he whispered while she deftly stroked him.

"I love you… I only went on that… blasted date with Anthony Goldstein… because I was afraid of what I felt… for you," she whined in his ear as he pushed two fingers into her dripping core.

"I love you… been wanting to tell… you for so fucking long…" he panted as he lay back on her bed and she straddled him.

"I love you. I was so sure you'd say it when ohhhh," she cried out as she slid down onto the length of him, "when we were in France."

"I love you… yes Hermione….fuck yes, like that… gods I love you… my Amortentia smells like you… like you in my library," he hissed out in between thrusts.

"Draco! Yes, I love you, yes yes yes! My… ohhhhh right there… my Amortentia is you… is after you use the Muggle toothpaste," she said feverishly, slamming her hips down in time with his rhythm.

"I love you… when you… when you… called me darling… the other night… when you were half asleep… my heart almost stopped," he increased the pace of his rapid movements into her perfect, tight cunt.

"I love you… I was afraid you'd…never tell me… and I obviously… Draco! Pleasepleaseplease… I love you, please… I'm so close… I'm coming I'm coming I'm coming," she became incoherent as she shifted up and down and rode out her orgasm with wild abandon.

As her body sagged in its post-climax state, Draco flipped them over and chased his own bliss as he pumped erratically into her. "I love you I love you I love you I love you," he chanted against the skin of her neck, and when he heard her repeat it back, he exploded inside her. Kissing the side of her face in reverence, he slowed his thrusts as he came down from his dizzying high.

He rolled off of and out of her, gathering her body against him as he did so. Hermione nuzzled his shoulder and let out a breathless laugh. "That was…"

"I know... I... I love you."

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied immediately. "And I love you."

Gods, he'd been a stubborn sod hadn't he? What the hell had he been so afraid of? Afraid of the pleasant shivers that he could see running through her body each time he said the words? Afraid of the warming glow of happiness that shot through his entire soul when her sweet voice said the words in return?

He should never utter a sentence to her again without declaring his love, and so Draco murmured the words to Hermione over and over until they both drifted off to sleep, intent on repeating them the second the morning sun woke them.

I have never been more okay with anything in my entire life.


A/N: An extra long chapter for you all as I'll be taking a brief pause from my usual schedule of an update every 4 days to take care of some real life things. The next chapter will be on 10/11.

Thank you all so much for your continued support of this story, whether that be in the form of comments, kudos, faves, or silently reading along.

I'm available for general nonsense and asks at any time on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.