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Chapter 11 -
They were nearing the house, crossing the green field, holding hands. She had taken the initiate this time, as she took his hand in hers. He wondered if she intended on holding his hand once they came in view of the guests at the reception. Draco would soon find out, as they were coming upon the house now. Hermione still had a firm hold on his hand. The most unlikely pair at the whole party, holding hands. Surely, there was a shift in the earth's gravitation pull, for that was a more likely explanation for these two to be holding hands, than for the possible reason that maybe they were falling for each other.
Without a spoken word passing between them, they walked toward the back of the Burrow. It was near 6:00 pm, and somehow the party seemed to be going as strong as ever. Most of the Weasley men were taking turns telling 'Ron' stories, as the other guests roared with laughter. Most of the partygoers didn't even notice the return of the two fugitives. Harry Potter was not one of them. He looked at their clasped hands and then into the face of Hermione Granger. She was smiling. She looked beautiful and happy. He was happy for her. He looked at Malfoy. He was looking at Hermione as well. So be it.
Draco pulled Hermione over to a table, and he sat down on a chair. She started to sit next to him, but he pulled her on his lap, as if it were the most natural thing to do. He motioned to a waiter to bring them some wine.
His arm went tightly around her waist. She looked at his face, and her hand stroked his cheek lightly. The waiter returned with the wine. She took a drink, and set her glass on the table. He took a drink and kept his glass in his free hand.
Soon, Ron's oldest brother Bill was regaling the first time Ron ever showed an interest in girls. He laughed when he recalled that Ron wanted to give his first crush a present for Christmas, and he wrote to Bill for advice. Hermione knew this story was about her. She blushed, and hoped no one would notice. She dare not look over to Draco. Bill was just at the part where he advised Ron not to give the girl a box of boogie-flavoured candy, and the entire crowd erupted in laughter. He said he told his brother that perhaps chocolate would be a better alternative. He then said, "No wonder it took Ron six more years to have the nerve to finally ask her out! Maybe if he had his way, and gave her the boogie-flavoured candy, she would have just hexed him in the beginning, and spared us all the heartache of a lovesick fool for all those years."
Again, everyone laughed. Everyone but Hermione. Certain that her face was red again, she was looking down at the ground. Draco looked right at her. So did Harry.
Ron said, "Oh well, it worked out in the end. My Pansy likes boogie-flavoured candy, and she would never hex me!"
Hermione felt goose bumps on her arms. She felt a prickly, hot feeling to the back of her neck. She wanted to cry. Shut up, Ron! Just shut up!
He didn't. He said, "To my new lovely wife, you accepts me for who I am, and who has never tried to change me! You need me, and you let me be the strong one. You never make me feel inadequate or stupid, and you love me warts and all!"
Hermione wanted to crawl under the table, curl into a ball, and die right on the spot.
Was that how Ron felt? Did he think she never accepted him? Did she belittle him, and make him feel like less of a man?
She felt tears spring to her eyes. She tried to get off Draco's lap, but his hold tightened. He whispered, "Hermione?"
She couldn't look at him. Soon, George Weasley was telling another story. Oh lord, this one was about her as well. He was talking about the year of the Yule ball, and about how Ron didn't have the nerve to invite a girl to the ball, so Harry had to do it for him. Please, Hermione thought, don't mention me!
Harry rushed over to Draco and Hermione. He could see her distress. He leaned down and said, "Draco would you and Hermione care to go inside for me and see if there's any more champagne?"
Draco nodded to Harry, stood up, took Hermione's hand, and led her around the outside of the throng of people. He opened the back door, and guided her in, his hand on the small of her back.
She stood by the sink, looking out the window toward the reception. She heard another roar of laughter. She said, "They must have gotten to the punchline. The one about how Ron and I had a big fight after the ball."
Draco put his hand on her back, and rubbed it in small circles. He turned her around and said, "You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen that night. Your dress was periwinkle, if I recall. It looked like silk spun by angels, for only angels could have made you look like one of them. It fit you like a glove. Your hair was up on top of your head in small ringlets, and you were so beautiful you sparkled. Every single boy and man in that room noticed you. Not Fleur, not Cho Chang, but you, Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley has never deserved you. You deserve someone who is your equal, not below you. Not all those people out there are laughing at you. They are laughing at him. Even his family."
She knew he was right. She leaned into him for a hug, which she received. He put both hands on her back, his right hand near her neck, on her exposed skin. He kissed the side of her neck. Hermione looked up at him, and his thumb wiped away the single tear that traveled down her face. He kissed her cheek.
Harry came in the kitchen and said, "There's more champagne outside. I forgot. Thanks for coming in to look, though, Draco."
Draco turned to Harry, nodded in acknowledgement, and said, "Thank you, Potter."
"They're all talking about other things now, if you want to come back outside," Harry told them.
Hermione looked so sad, Draco thought. He said, "Maybe in a bit."
He steered her toward the kitchen table. He sat on the table, and brought her close to him, between his legs.
"Mrs. Weasley would go barking mad if she knew someone was sitting on her table," Hermione said, with a weak smile.
He kept her firmly in place, his arms around her body, and said, "That woman is barking mad anyway, to have all those children."
Hermione leaned against his chest and without looking at him, she said, "What date are we on, now?"
"Well, we're at the stage of our relationship were the other's feelings are paramount to our own. We are utterly content and relaxed with each other, and the other's mood is a reflection of our own. I would say we jumped right from date six to ten."
She laughed and brought her head off his shoulder. She asked, "Have you ever waited for the tenth date to sleep with someone?"
He frowned, a contrived countenance, and said, "No, I have not, and I am beginning to feel a bit put out, Granger. How much longer shall I date you for you to finally sleep with me?"
She placed her hand on his cheek and her eyes smiled with delight. She said, "Let's keep that part of our relationship a surprise."
"A surprise? What are you going to do, grab me, pull me in the nearest broom cupboard, and have your evil way with me?" he asked.
"Well, damn, now that you know my plan, I apparently can't do that. I feel so sorry for you, Draco," she said, amused.
"Oh, wait," he amended, "that was my plan all along, not yours. My apologies. Your plan was much different."
She took both his hands in hers, and wrapped her fingers through his. She asked, "What was my plan?"
"Your plan was to make me fall madly in love with you, and then whisk you away somewhere for a romantic encounter that you would never forget," he regaled, letting go of her hands, and pulling her closer to him. Her thighs were against the table, as she was almost flush against his sitting form. His legs still parted, so she could stand close.
"Is my plan working?" she asked carefully.
"Exceptionally well," he said, just as guarded. He kissed her mouth again, this time a sweet, inviting kiss. What he was inviting her for, she wasn't completely sure.
Draco pushed her away and jumped off the table. At first, she wondered what she had done wrong. Her queries were answered, when he grabbed her hand and headed toward the closest thing resembling a broom cupboard. It was the pantry. There was barely room for one, let alone two.
Once inside, she asked, "What are we doing in here?"
"I've decided to go with my plan, you know, broom cupboard, having my evil way with you, the whole cup of tea," he said, kissing her palm, and then her wrist.
"What about my plan? Will there be no falling in love, no romantic get-a-way?" she asked.
He took a deep breath and said, "But, Granger, it's too late for that."
"What do you mean?" she asked, worried.
"Why, you silly thing, I've already fallen in love with you," he said plainly.
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