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Chapter 17 –
The fireworks were amazing! Red, yellow, green and blue rockets, pinwheels, and Catherine Wheels, shot to the sky, and exploded in the air with a blast of colour, sound and pure joy! Hermione stood with her back to her 'new friend', his arms tight around her middle. This day started out more than she could handle, and was ending to be more than she could hope.
As the barrage continued, and the climax to the show began, a message, in white fireworks, began appearing in the sky. With no words spoken, Draco merely pointed with his hand, and Hermione's sight followed his imaginary line to the sky. There, in bright exploding letters, must have been George's message to her. It read, "H.G. we wish it was thee!"
Hermione found herself smiling, even more so when she felt Draco's nose nuzzle next to her ear, and he whispered, "I'm glad it wasn't."
She was suddenly pensive, as she turned in his arms. "I'm glad it wasn't, as well," she replied.
He drew his index finger down her face, from her temple to her jaw. He leaned in and swiftly took her lips, kissing them feathery soft. After the chaste kiss, so unlike the ones they shared earlier today, but just as wonderful, they stood and stared at each other. Neither wanted to break the spell they were under, each afraid if the other spoke, words would seem inadequate.
"I do love you, you know," Draco declared.
"I love you, too," she answered plainly. As crazy as it was, as unholy their union, as unlikely their pair, she did. She knew in her heart, and in the depths of her soul, that the man before her was the man she loved, and the man she was going to marry someday. It did not make sense, and suddenly, it did not matter.
"What do you want to do?" he finally inquired.
"Right now, or for the rest of my life?" she asked, no longer guarded, and no longer caring who knew it.
"Well, I already know what you're going to be doing the rest of your life, so I actually meant, right now," he smirked.
Her hand went to his face and cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. "What will I be doing the rest of my life, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.
"I think you know the answer to that, but if not, let me explain," he said, almost out of breath. There, on top of a hill, just a short distance from the Burrow, Draco Malfoy kissed Hermione Granger, as the fireworks around them subsided, but the fireworks inside their brains ignited. He kissed her with furor, passion, and love. He would kiss these lips for the rest of his life, if allowed. When he stopped, he smiled, and thought to himself, 'I'm allowed'.
He took her hand and headed down the hill. The night was enveloping the day, turning it into the type of summer night in which people wrote poems. Draco wished he were a poet right now, and then perhaps he could relay his feelings to her, without appearing as a sap.
When they reached the front garden, he turned, took her in his arms again, and said, "Tell me what's in your heart."
"Blood," she said, not trying to be funny, and not meaning it literally. "Blood that runs warm and red and beats and flows, bringing me life, so that in this life, I can love, and show love, and be loved, by a man, such as yourself."
"Poetic," he laughed.
"Your turn," she said. "Tell me a poem, Draco."
"I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree…" he started.
She hit his arm and said, "No, prat, tell me a poem about me," and then she laughed.
"If you hit me and call me a prat, I am likely to lose my inspiration," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Fine, here's my poem…I love you, with everything I am, and everything I feel, I feel and am just for you."
"Rather short," she commented.
"As long as yours," he fired back, swatting her bottom, and then running from her.
"It's too late, and I'm too tired to run after you, Malfoy. I'm too old, as well," she said. He started to walk back to her, and she took off toward him in a sprint, closing the gap in no time. She literally knocked him to the ground. Lying on top of him, she collapsed on his body, to kiss him again.
After the kiss, she raised herself up on her arms and said, "I can't remember a day when I've spent more time on the ground." She rolled off him and sat beside his still supine body. He reached his hand up her back, gliding softly up her spine, causing a chill to her nerve endings, even in the warmth of the summer night. He ended his trek at her neck, to massage it lightly. She turned her head and looked down at him.
"What happens after tonight?" she asked. She leaned down on her side, taking his hand in one of hers, the other holding up her neck. He mirrored her movements.
"We carry on, we don't forget, and we continue. We go out like normal people, we have quiet days at home, we have passion filled nights, and lazy afternoons. We spend every spare moment together, and even when we're apart, we do nothing but think of the other," he answered.
"Wow, I thought you would say you didn't know," she gasped lightly.
"Why would I lie? I know what will happen after tonight, and you should as well," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth, kissing each folded finger lightly.
She fell over on her back and said, "Isn't it a beautiful night?"
"Yes, it's a beautiful night," he agreed, lying beside her. With her knees bent, her dress rode slightly up her thighs. He took one finger and traced circles up and down her bare leg. He inched up higher and higher. He took a quick look at her face, and she was staring right at him, with a funny little smile on her graceful, red lips.
"What?" he asked his hand moving higher.
"What do you think you're doing?" she glared.
"Accosting you," he declared. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then her neck. His hand went as far up as he dared. Her dress was up so far, it was almost indecent. He moved his hand to the outside of the fabric, and placed it lightly on her stomach. He deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue around hers. She hummed, followed by a low moan from Draco, as he took the kiss as far as a kiss could go, and still be JUST a kiss. He was practically on top of her, and he placed his leg over her body.
She pushed him off, and he sighed deeply. "Hermione, this is our 32nd date, I think I should be able to do more than just cop a feel."
She laughed and sat up. "How in the world did we jump from date 25 to 32? In a matter of 30 minutes?"
He sat up as well. "Okay, date one through ten, I think we can agree, were the first two hours of the day. We had fun, we laughed, and we became acquainted with each other; we flirted, and stole a couple of innocent kisses. From 3pm to 4pm, we started to talk seriously about what we each wanted. That was dates 11 to 14. Dates 15 to 20 went by in a blur, for we danced, joked, relaxed in each other's company. We teased each other without fear of reproach. We were comfortable enough with the other that if we passed gas, all we would have done is laughed, instead of running and hiding."
She interrupted, "Neither of us passed gas."
"That we know of," he said, pointing at her.
"Come on, stop that," she reprimanded.
"Fine, we didn't, but we could have and not been embarrassed. Where was I?" he wondered.
"Dates 20 to 25," she reminded.
"Oh, of course, those dates took place from the time I felt you up on the dance floor to the fall down the hill, to the fireworks," he amended.
"I follow you so far, but the fireworks just ended. If that was date 25, how are we on 32?" she reasoned.
"26 – I declared my love for you, 27 – you declared your love for me, and how shameful of you to make me wait one whole date to tell me you loved me back, 28 – we dreamt of a future together, 29 – we talked about that future together, 30 to 31, we groped in public, so now it's 32," he finished.
"You're pushing some of those things, but still, 32? Really?" she asked.
He suddenly said, "I have never in my life dated someone 32 times without having sex of some kind."
"Sex of some kind?" she bartered.
"Yes, you know, there are different kinds of sex," he said lightly, his mouth up on one side.
"I don't need a sex education lesson from you, Malfoy," she said, "Anyway, if and when, we have sex, there will only be one kind."
He frowned and said, "Really?" He seemed disappointed.
"Yes," she said back.
"What kind?" He seemed slightly annoyed.
"The only kind that's acceptable between us. Making love. That's the only type of sex I will ever share with you. No shagging, no sex, no afternoon delight, no fringe benefits, no sir. None of those terms will apply. We shall never have sex." She stood up. "We will only make love, is that agreeable with you?"
"If I say yes, is this a verbal contract?" he asked, standing as well.
"It might as well be," she said.
"No taking it back?" he asked.
"Never." She shook her head. He took her hand and pulled her to him.
"Then, Hermione let me agree to your terms. When, no if, but when, we do commence with the copulation portion of this relationship, nothing but 'making love' will do for us," he agreed.
He wanted to test that theory right there on the front garden, but he was afraid that would break their verbal contract, and might be construed as 'shagging' instead of making love. He walked next to her back to the house. They entered the garden gate, as most of the reception guests were leaving.
She frowned and said, "Is the party over, do you think?"
"Not for us," he said lightly.
They walked in the house, and George was helping his mother clean up in the kitchen. He approached the pair and said, "Did you see my message, Granger?"
"Yes, George. Thank you, but you know, just because Ron and I didn't work out, doesn't mean you can get rid of me that easily," she reminded him.
"Yes, well, when you marry this git," George said, pointing to Malfoy, "you might whistle a different tune."
She giggled and said, "No one is marrying anyone, George." She lightly slapped his arm. She turned smiling to Draco, and he was frowning.
He said, "Excuse me, while I use the facilities." He walked up the stairs.
Did she say the wrong thing? She walked up the stairs, and waited for him outside the bathroom door, just as he did for her earlier. She would explain to him that she was just joking. She didn't mean anything. Nevertheless, even he had to admit, it was a bit early to talk of marriage. This whole thing was on fast forward, but that didn't mean marriage was going to be considered anytime soon. Not even after 32 real dates.
She waited forever for him to come out of the bathroom. Finally, she knocked on the door. There was no answer. She tried the handle. The door wasn't locked. She walked in and there was no Draco in sight. She even pulled back the shower curtain and looked in the tub. She felt very sad and alone, all of the sudden. She rubbed her temples, and went to splash water on her face. Fine, if he wanted to leave like that, and not tell her goodbye, just because his feelings were hurt, well, let him go, because its better that she found out what he was like now, instead of after really dating him a while.
She finished up in the bathroom, and examined her face in the mirror. "You're a fool, Hermione Granger," she said aloud to herself. "You were a fool to let Draco go, but even a bigger one to let him in your heart." She felt like crying, once again, so she did. She started to cry and could not stop. Soon, sobs were racking her entire body, and she sunk to the floor of the bathroom.
From outside in a tree, right by the opened bathroom window, where Draco had apparated to when he heard Hermione enter the bathroom, he heard her crying. He had even heard her declaration. Sure, his feelings were hurt just a wee, little bit by the marriage comment she made to George, but he wasn't seriously angry. He thought it would be fun to hide from her, because he knew she would come up to try to find him. However, he didn't count on Hermione thinking he really left.
Each tear that escaped her eye, and each sob that escaped her lips, broke his resolve, as well as his heart. He apparated right back in the bathroom, picked her up off the floor, and with her in his arms, he apparated back outside, to the roof.
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