"But 'Mione, you promised!" Henry was in a state after Hermione had recanted her offer to take Henry to The Burrow. The young boy was obsessed with Quidditch and had begged Hermione to ask Mr. Weasley if he could come and play on their makeshift Quidditch pitch.
In light of everything going on with Ron and his subsequent presence at The Burrow, Hermione and the Weasley's thought it best to postpone Henry's visit.
"I'm sorry, Henry." Hermione said, opening the door of The Splintered Wand and squinting her eyes against the bright light of the sun which was shining with unusual intensity over Diagon Alley. "The Weasley's are busy today but I'll take you another time."
The boy slid his hand into Hermione's and huffed, defeated.
"We can do anything else you want." Hermione offered, moving out of the way for a large witch pushing a crudely made wooden cart filled with different kinds of fabric. She backed into a solid mass that grunted on impact.
She spun around with an apology on her lips but instead found herself swallowing her kind words.
"No apologies necessary." Malfoy was lounging against the brick wall of bar, with his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his grey trousers.
"Then it's lucky I wasn't going make any."
Malfoy ignored her and looked down at Henry with an appraising gaze.
"Who is this?"
"I'm Henry Bergsdorf!" Henry slipped his hand from Hermione's and stuck it out to Malfoy who took it with an impressed smirk and shook it firmly.
"It's a pleasure Mr. Bersgdorf." Hermione squinted at his smirk, which to her utter surprise was actually a smile. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
Hermione wiped the look of blatant shock off of her face and put her hand on Henry's shoulder to gently guide him away from Malfoy. The blond tucked his hands back into his pockets and appraised her from head to toe.
She was wearing her favourite pair of muggle jeans and a light linen shirt with a fun tie-dye print that she had liked when she put it on, but now felt extremely frivolous. She pulled at hem in order to focus on something other than his gaze.
"What are the two of you up to, then?" Malfoy directed his question to Henry and Hermione was grateful for the reprieve from his gaze. "No good, I'll assume?"
"'Mione was going to take me to play Quidditch at the . . . the, erm-" He looked up at Hermione with a question in his eyes. "The Hovel?"
"The Burrow." She amended while Malfoy chuckled darkly.
"I like his better."
"She says we can't go now."
Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment as if he was going through the possible reasons why not and finally he looked back at Hermione.
"I have a regulation sized pitch at The Manor - I'd be more than happy to escort you both." He almost looked bashful - as bashful as a Malfoy could look with all the regality of their features. "I've got more brooms than I know what to do with and have been left unridden for far too long."
Henry started to bounce on the balls of his feet and pull on the sleeve of Hermione's shirt.
"Please, 'Mione!"
"Henry, I'm not sure your mother-"
"I'll go ask her!" Before she could protest he had shot through the door to the bar shouting for Lathinia.
Hermione looked awkwardly up at Malfoy who's hair almost glowed in the bright morning sunlight and cleared her throat primly.
"You really don't have to-"
"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to." He said gruffly, tapping his foot on the cobblestone. He was dressed casually, more casual than she supposed she had ever seen him and she found herself liking this softer version of the Malfoy heir.
Henry burst forth from the door, nearly smacking Hermione with it and babbling happily while clapping his hands together.
"She said yes!" He beamed. "She was even more excited than I was!"
Hermione flushed.
They stopped for ice cream on the way to the Apparation point, Malfoy and Hermione waited at the back of the store while Henry was carefully surveying the flavour choices. There were a only few witches and wizards in Fortescue's due to the early hour and nearly everyone was staring at the odd pair.
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy out for ice cream at ten in the morning - it sounded more like a bad joke instead of her current reality.
"Stop thinking so loud, witch." Malfoy muttered lowly, leaning into her slightly.
"It really is too early for ice cream."
She had said no when Henry suggested they stop for a treat but Malfoy had already began leading them to Fortescue's with a devilish smile that he shared with Henry.
"Do shut up, Granger."
She was about to tell him to sod off when Henry came trudging towards them, both hands clutched around the cone of a truly formidable tower of ice cream. It surpassed his head in size and was covered in a shimmering purple dust that glowed a brilliant blue when it caught the light.
""Mione! Look!" Henry was walking slowly with the precarious ice cream and when he stopped in front of them he took a lick from as close to the top as he was able to reach and getting the sticky stuff all over his nose.
Then his skin began to turn a startling shade of orange.
"Pixie Dust topping!" He giggled while closely examining his arm. "Every lick turns you a different colour."
Despite her growing irritation with Malfoy she laughed and smiled brightly at Henry who was handing Malfoy back a small change purse. She hadn't even seen Malfoy hand the Galleon's to Henry.
"Thanks Mr. Malfoy!"
"You can keep the lot if you call me Draco."
Henry's jaw dropped as he shook the change purse, still heavy with Galleons.
"Malfoy, you really don't have to-"
"Granger, you really need to find a way to manage your stress levels." Malfoy smirked at her and then led the two out of the shop, Henry talking animatedly about how this was the best day of his life.
By the time they reached the Apparation point Hermione was still trying to persuade Draco that he didn't need to play host for the day and that Quidditch could wait for another time but he was ignoring her in favour of listing off the different kinds of brooms he had to Henry who was eating up every word with rapt attention.
She didn't know why she was so nervous about going to Malfoy Manor. Lucius had died in their eighth year at Hogwarts while in Azkaban, after which Narcissa had packed up and moved to one of their vacation homes in France leaving Draco as the sole occupant of the Manor.
She'd seen enough of the Malfoy Estate in various magazines and textbooks to know what to expect, and obviously she'd been there at the apex of the war but her nerves didn't stem from that trauma - it stemmed from being escorted there by Malfoy himself.
Malfoy and Henry were looking at her expectantly when she emerged from her thoughts.
"I told you to manage your stress." Malfoy drawled. "Not stew in it."
To her horror he reached out a graceful finger and swiped it around to bottom of Henry's ice cream, unearthing a dollop of the sweet cream and pressed it to her lips with a wicked smirk.
Without thinking she opened her mouth and let his digit rest against her tongue. He applied a bit of pressure and released a groan that sent sparks shooting down her spine. His wicked smirk was replaced by lips parted on a gasp and his eyes were fixated on where his finger disappeared between her lips.
She released it with an obscene 'pop'.
The tense moment was broken when Henry began to giggle.
"Green looks good on you, Granger." Malfoy's voice was husky and she watched as the heat in his eyes melted away slowly.
Before they Apparated she tensed when Malfoy's hand curled around her forest green arm.
.
The toes of her simple white trainers dragged along the grass as she sat atop a broom that Henry demanded she mount. She refused to go any higher than the three feet off the ground she already was.
Malfoy and Henry zoomed around overhead occasionally calling her to join them and laughing when she refused.
At least they'd stopped howling over the green hue of her skin as it had dissipated after only a few minutes.
It was obvious that Henry was enjoying himself immensely so Hermione resisted the very strong urge to hit Malfoy with a Confounding charm and contented herself to fly slowly around the pitch and try to enjoy it.
When it became clear that she was not going to enjoy any aspect of flying, she stilled her broom on the side of the pitch and straddled it, her feet planted firmly on the ground on either side of the broom. A cushioning charm on the seat allowed her to keep her balance as she lowered herself to lay down on the narrow flying apparatus.
She felt like she was floating as she sunned herself, only losing her balance once and catching herself before she toppled over into a heap on the grass. When it happened a second time she decided not to tempt fate and sat upright, blinking her eyes against the suns assault.
Her eyes met Malfoy's across the pitch where he was watching her, his broom frozen in place.
He turned away quickly saying something she couldn't hear to Henry and angling his broom towards her. He flew to a stop beside her and fixed his eyes on his younger flying companion in the sky.
"Henry has asked that I have some lunch brought out." He said gruffly. "Would you care for something?"
Watching the two of them perform such daring manuevers so high up in the air had set her stomach tumbling about in her throat and she shook her head.
"However, I would love something to drink."
"Pipsy!"
A House Elf in a tiny forest green suit appeared with a smile, showcasing a row of yellowing teeth.
"Can Pipsy get the young Master Malfoy and his guests something to eat?" Her voice was clear and unwavering, so unlike the House Elves Hermione was used to seeing.
Draco requested something of the Elf that Hermione was too busy gawking at Pipsy's appearance to hear. When she popped away Malfoy was starring at her with thinly veiled amusement and much to her surprise at some point he had put a on a pair of sunglasses.
"Everything alright in that head of yours?"
"Your House Elf . . ." She was being awkward. "It was wearing a power suit!"
"Yes, Pipsy choses to spend most of her pay on clothing."
"You pay her?"
"All of the Malfoy House Elves are free."
"As of when?"
"When my father died and I became the Head of the Malfoy House."
He'd freed his House Elves.
Hermione had never really swooned over anyone in her life. She'd watched gaggles of girls do just that in her fourth year over Viktor Krum, and she'd watched Lavender do so with Ron, and Romilda Vein do it with Harry - but she herself had never felt that particular breed of infatuation rear its silly head.
Until now.
Draco Malfoy had made her swoon with his House Elf liberation and his muggle sunglasses.
"Granger, you're looking a little flushed." Malfoy commented. "Perhaps you've been in the sun for too long."
"No, no." She cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from his face because just because his eyes were hidden didn't mean he wasn't watching her just as closely as she was him. "I'm fine really."
Pipsy appeared again with a sandwich and glass of orange juice for Henry and two cut glass tumblers and a bottle of Firewhiskey for Malfoy and herself.
Malfoy called up to Henry that there was food but the young wizard just yelled something noncommittal back and continued racing around. Malfoy chuckled to himself and offered her a glass of whiskey.
"I like that kid." He said, conversationally.
"I'm quite taken with him, as well." She fought back a wince when she raised her glass to take a sip.
"Careful, Granger." He said lowly. "Firewhiskey packs a wicked punch."
"I live above a bar, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes.
"A bar that could not afford to stock libations of this quality."
"The limited inventory hardly stopped you from being there every night last week." She was pleased when his cheeks turned a light pink - though she couldn't be sure whether or not it was from the sun and the drink or embarrassment.
"Where is his father?"
Hermione didn't normally indulge in frivolous gossip but something about the whiskey had loosened her tongue quite substantially and she couldn't find a good reason not to share personal information about her friend with Malfoy.
"He was a muggle." She said quietly even though there was no chance that Henry could overhear. "Lathinia was young and fresh from the war when she started dabbling with Snake Dust. She met Nathan, Henry's father in some sort of muggle slum and introduced him to Snake Dust - though he was heavily addicted to a muggle drug called heroine at the time."
"A muggle using Snake Dust?" Malfoy lowered his sunglasses to unleash the full force of his silver gaze on her. "That's unheard of. It would be a breach of the Secrecy Accords."
"Yes." She agreed and according to Lathinia it had been a legal nightmare. "She got pregnant and was able to stop using - obviously the same could not be said for Nathan. A muggle has no magical core and therefore a magical drug such as Snake Dust is near impossible to ween themselves off of - as far as I've read, it's never been done."
"What happened to him?"
"Lathinia went to the Ministry in a show of good faith. They brought him in and Obliviated him, but not even the most powerful of memory charms can trick the human body and so he died from the withdrawal symptoms several days later."
"Merlin . . ." Draco trailed off while his eyes watched Henry in the sky.
"Lathinia was beside herself for years after Nathan's death." Hermione didn't know why she kept talking, it wasn't as if Malfoy was her friend. "She never forgave herself."
They spent the next several moments in silent contemplation before Malfoy spoke again.
"Why do you live above that bar?"
"The rent is manageable." Draco scoffed at her answer.
"They should be paying you to live there, Granger. The place is filthy and crawling with nerdewells."
"I've dealt with worse." Maybe she imagined the way he cringed.
Her throat was burning pleasantly with the effects of her drink and she finished the contents in one foul swoop. She jerked a little when her glass magically refilled itself.
"Granger, you can't keep living there. It isn't safe." He had maneuvered himself so that both of his legs hung off one side of the broom and he was facing her fully.
She copied his movements because if he intended to make her feel intimidated she wasn't going let him have the satisfaction.
"I don't care for your condescending tone." She said, with a glare. He peered down his nose at her. "I am well aware of the conditions in which I live, Malfoy. I've lived there for years before you started skulking around demanding my attention and commenting on my way of life. Not all of us were handed the gift of a grand estate to prance around in."
His eyes flashed and she supposed he must be internally congratulating himself for succeeding in making her feel intimidated now, for surely it was written all over her face when he shot him arm forward, grabbing ahold of her broom handle and jerking it towards him.
She would have fallen right on her arse had his other arm not snaked around her waist.
Her breath of surprise ghosted over his face, making the strands of hair flutter and dance around his eyes which had narrowed on her face over his sunglasses.
Their knees slotted together, both of his tightly pressing against hers to keep her in place while a low growling sound percolated in his throat. His lips nearly touched the tip of her nose and his grip tightened around her waist, pulling her forward slightly so that when he spoke next, his lips actually did brush her nose.
"This grand estate," He sneered with his use of her words, "Is most certainly not a gift. I thought you of all people would be well aware of that."
She couldn't speak.
He smelled divine, like cloves and mint. She nearly closed her eyes at the sensation of him being so close to her. Hermione could almost pretend that it was an intimate moment, if his words hadn't been laced with so much unrestrained anger.
"It's a burden covered in expensive wrappings."
Hermione knew that he was right, she shouldn't have brought up his acquisition of Malfoy Manor for she knew the horrors that had once lurked within it's walls. She didn't want to apologize for her words because she was stubborn and could hardly imagine apologizing to Malfoy of all people - but she also didn't want to continue the argument because she knew she would lose it.
She settled for plucking his expensive sunglasses from his face and placing them on her own. She used one finger to slide them up her nose and smiled timidly at his shock.
"Let's not argue." She said softly. "I'm having a rather pleasant afternoon and I should not like to ruin it."
Malfoy seemed to remember himself. His look of surprise melted off of his face and he let go of both her broom and her waist with a nod of concession.
"All right, Granger. Have it your way." She was too busy watching him smile at her, with a enough pleasure that she ascertained he accepted her non-apology, that she didn't have time to fight back when he jumped on the back of her broom and kicked off from the ground, hard.
All she knew was the sensation of being propelled forward at break neck speeds - and that she was screaming like a banshee and clutching at whatever part of Malfoy was closest.
"I'M GOING TO HEX YOUR BOLLOCKS OFF, DRACO!" She screamed, and over the rushing of wind in her ears she could hear him laughing joyously.
He stopped a few hundred feet in the air and only when she felt the broom stop moving did she dare open her eyes. Draco was staring at her with amusement, she had pressed herself into the space between his legs, one arm around his neck and buried in his hair and the other clutching at his pristine shirt that was definitely going to need to be ironed.
"Are you trying to kill me?" She tried to pull away from him to yell at him only to get a good look at just how far they were from the ground and immediately pressed herself back against him.
"Just teaching you a lesson, Granger." He carefully removed the sunglasses from her face and put them back on his own. "Don't take what isn't yours."
.
The sunglasses were sitting on her mantle and she was starring at them with a small smile that hadn't left her face all day Saturday and well into Sunday morning.
Malfoy had opened his Floo network to her and Henry because Apparating with alcohol in ones system was not only a bad idea, but illegal.
Henry had thanked Draco profusely and hinted more than once that he would like to come back and do it again. Draco had confirmed and Henry had a bounce in his step when he entered the Floo.
Hermione was about to step in beside him when she felt a warm hand encompass her own and help her step into the fireplace. She looked up at him just as he removed his hand and noticed that he looked shocked at his own courtesy.
He cleared his throat and handed her a bit of Floo powder.
She had stopped just before she threw it to the ground and without really thinking about it she leaped out of the Floo much to Malfoy's shock and reached for the sunglasses that he had folded and stuck on the front of his wrinkled shirt.
She pulled them deftly from his neck with a sly smirk and jumped back into the fireplace. The last thing she saw before the green flames engulfed her was Malfoy trying to hide a small smile.
Hermione liked to spend whatever free time she had down in The Splintered Wand's solarium. It was a new addition Lathinia had added a few years before Hermione and Ginny had rented the flat above, it was a room made up of floor to ceiling windows and housed a few plants that, try as Lathinia might, never quite looked healthy.
The solarium was rarely used by any patrons because if one was coming to The Splintered Wand, chances were you weren't there to sit in the blinding light of the day, but to drink away your sorrows under the dim light where you could fade away into the background.
Hermione loved the solarium and often spent Sunday afternoons with a pint or two of butterbeer and whatever silly romance novel she picked up from one of the towering piles of books in her flat.
Romance novels were her guilty pleasure - a small treat she allowed herself to get lost in for an hour every week.
"Here you are, Hermione." Farrow, one of Lathinia's weekend bar managers set her mug of butterbeer before her on the table and smiled indulgently at her. He was a handsome wizard and he'd often stop to talk to Hermione about Hogwarts, but it always left her feeling a little awkward because she couldn't for the life of her remember him.
"What are we reading today?" He asked, trying to get a glance at the cover of her book.
"A story by a muggle author." Hermione smiled politely and took a much needed sip of her drink. "She touches on the existence of the Fae and though obviously there are some glaring errors and oversights, it is certainly entertaining."
Farrow laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Hermione Granger, always reading." He was chuckling at what she was sure was her expense. "I always remember you gliding down the corridors at Hogwarts with your nose in a book. Nearly ran over me a few times, you did."
Hermione laughed awkwardly.
She didn't recall that ever happening.
"Yes, well, erm - I took my studies very seriously."
He leaned down to smile crookedly at her. "I know."
There was a playful smile tugging at his upper lip as he leaned in closer, his eyes laser focused on her own mouth. She leaned away from him slightly and he didn't appear to notice because the gleam in his eye never wavered and neither did his smile.
"What you don't know is that despite such swotty behaviour, Granger here was quite unseemly when it came to returning her books to the library on time." Draco Malfoy had seemed to appear out of nowhere, glaring at where Farrow's hand still rested on her shoulder.
Hermione's mouth popped open with indignation. When she leaned around Farrows stalky build his hand slipped from her shoulder, forgotten while she glared at Malfoy for his blatant lie.
"Hardly!" She pouted. "Maybe by only a day or so. Madame Pince's loan time was what was unseemly!"
"Yes." Malfoy smirked triumphantly when she shrugged off Farrow's hand. "Well, when you read them more than once, I can see how that might have been a problem for you."
"Three times, actually." She corrected - she wasn't called the Brightest Witch of her Year for nothing.
"I'm shocked." He drawled, sliding into the booth opposite her.
His eyes were fixed on her face when he addressed Farrow.
"I'll have whatever Granger is having."
"Of course Mr. Malfoy." Farrow stumbled over his words but neither were paying any attention to him anymore. When he backed away from the table Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at Hermione.
"Do I know him?" He questioned, plucking her book off the table and searching the cover.
"No." Hermione said primly, attempting and failing to snatch the book back before he made some snarky joke about the content. She fell back into her seat with a huff when she realized that Draco was faster than her. "Well, yes. I mean - he says he went to Hogwarts with us but I can't remember him at all. I haven't the heart to tell him, so play along Malfoy."
He handed her back her book and tisked at her with a leer. The kind of unsightly expression she had come to expect to see on his face over the years. What surprised her most was that, after spending more time with the man than usual she had almost forgotten to expect it.
She had gotten used to small smiles, lingering gazes and guiding touches ghosting over the small of her back.
"Back to Malfoy, are we?" His lip curled unpleasantly. "What happened to Draco?"
"I don't recall ever using your first name." She crossed her arms over her chest after sliding the book into her open satchel beside her. Hermione found she preferred the softer looks to this harsher expression and wondered when exactly she had come to be so familiar with his easy smiles. So familiar, in fact, that she yearned to see one now.
"I'd have you recall that yesterday," He leaned across the table with a boyish smile and a low timber to his voice. "You were screaming it in my ear."
That smile was most certainly not familiar.
She'd never felt her face flush so hot in her life as she peered around to make sure no one had heard him and decided to deduce their own conclusions. He leaned back, satisfied with having flustered her and reached into the pocket of his blazer.
He pulled out an envelope that shone a brilliant gold when it caught the blazing light in the solarium. He handed it to her wordlessly and she hesitantly reached out for it. She lightly grazed his fingers with her own and he pulled back instantly, the letter falling on to the table between them.
Her flush deepened at his obvious discomfort with touching her.
She felt anger bubbling in her blood at the audacity of this man. He'd had no qualms about touching her when he'd jumped onto the back of her broom and shot off into the air. He had seemed to even enjoy having her clutch at his shoulders and whisper enticingly into her ear.
Perhaps the blood prejudices he harboured in their youth still lingered around his rough edges, clinging to the boy he had once been and refusing to let go.
She snatched the golden envelope off the table with haste and pursed her lips against the bad taste his actions had left in her mouth.
Her name was written on the envelope in an elegant scrawl that she traced with the pad of her thumb. Her eyes flicked up to his finding him watching her movements carefully.
"What is it?"
"Open it and find out, Granger."
The invitation inside was even more beautifully crafted than the golden envelope, which seemed near impossible. It smelled of riches and aristocracy. It was embossed with gold and so stiff she wondered if maybe the actual invitation itself was printed on gold.
Draco Malfoy cordially invites you to a grand affair held on Malfoy Estate . . .
"A ball?" She set the invitation on the table gently and noticed how its presence there immediately called to attention the shabbiness of the establishment they were in - the invitation looked out of place on the dingy table.
With a flare of shame that surprised her she realized that she had never related to an inanimate object more in her life.
"Well spotted." He smirked, folding his hands on to the table in front of him. "Hastily thrown together, I'll admit."
She glanced at the offensive invitation and noted that the ball was next weekend.
"My mother is rolling in her grave, I expect."
"What's it for?" She ignored his casual mention of his late mother as he often made morbid jokes of that nature.
"Pansy hardly needs a reason to gather the Wizarding worlds elite, ply them with drinks and watch them try to Waltz." His face housed a wistful smile at the mention of Pansy Parkinson. "I wanted to drop off your invitation personally."
"Well, yes." She picked the invitation off the table with two fingers. "I expect an owl would have issues maintaining flight with the weight of this thing." She let the invitation drop with an audible 'smack'.
"Pansy enjoys spending money - especially when it's mine."
Hermione's throat clenched around an annoyed huff of air. The pair of them were throwing a Ball together which meant that they were probably courting - by pureblood customs they were probably engaged to married.
Hermione quickly gathered her things, unwilling to try and sort out her thoughts on the matter with the problem staring back at her from across a horribly sticky table that was sending short burst of embarrassment through her stiff spine.
This was where she lived, a dilapidated bar with sticky tables.
Gold invitations didn't belong in a place like this.
"Granger!" Malfoy's usual air of practiced composure had given way to concern at her abrupt attempt at departure. He stood quickly as she did, probably a pureblood manners thing, and reached out for her arm.
She pulled it away quickly and his hands grasped at air. She stepped even further away, barely looking at him as she shoved her belongings into her satchel.
"Though, I appreciate the invitation - I, erm, well I just don't think-" Her mind was rife with thoughts about regulation sized Quidditch Pitches, patient smiles at young wizards and filthy wooden tables. His tables were probably pristine tables, expensive and well cared for, perfectly stable.
His tables probably had a blunt brunette bob and a slightly upturned nose.
"- I'm not interested in parading around in a gown while Parkinson gives tours of your Manor." Words had been spilling out of her mouth without her consent as she tried to tramp down her raging tempest of intrusive thoughts.
Malfoy raised a single eyebrow at her.
"I think I should very much enjoy watching you parade around."
She tripped when she took another step backwards and smacked her head on the doorframe she'd been trying to get to, miscalculating her aim.
"Granger." He was reaching out to her with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine." Her eyes were still closed against the stinging at the back of her head. "Just feeling a bit under the weather. I'll, erm, talk to you later. Tomorrow. At work. Or not - I'm always in the library and you're not always at the Ministry . . ."
Her embarrassment was nearly tangible now.
So, she ran.