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Chapter 33 -
Hermione was curious. What was he proposing, and why was she so blindly following? Seriously, the worse (best?) thing he could do was remove her dress, dry it in some fashion, and perhaps that would be interesting.
She eyed him cautiously as she crossed the doorway, and watched wearily as he shut the door. "What are your proposing, Malfoy?" she asked.
"I'm going to dry your dress," he said, his eyebrows going up and down quickly.
"With your wand?"
"No," he said, taking her arms, and rubbing his hands up and down them. He pulled her closer to the middle of the room.
"With my wand?"
"Granger, Granger, Granger, no magic will be used at all," he said. He put his hand on the front of the sundress, directly under the swell of her breasts. "Yes, still quite damp."
"Malfoy?"
"Yes?"
"I'm not taking off my dress," she said.
"Goodness, you are forward. I would never expect you to do that," he said, falling to his knees.
"MALFOY!" she said tersely. She looked back at the closed door. Did he lock it? Good, he did.
"GRANGER!" he mocked. He put his hands on her backside, pulling her closer. He looked around her body quickly to see if he locked the door. He did.
He pulled her closer, and he started to blow gently on the material of the dress. From his position on the floor, on his knees, his face was level with the wet spot on the front. Hermione looked down at him, only seeing the top of his beautiful blond head.
"Do you intend to blow it dry?" she asked sarcastically. Inside, her organs felt like gelatin, her legs like rubber.
He continued to blow on the pink cotton dress, pulling her even closer. His right hand rested on her hip, his left hand went around to the back of her right calf, and it moved up and down.
"Draco?" she asked, breathlessly.
"Yes?" he asked back, softly. He stopped blowing for a moment to look up at her.
"Why?"
"What?" he asked.
"I mean, why are you doing this to me?" she asked so quietly, he almost could not hear. He stood up. He looked at her intently, and she was not sure how to decipher his glare. She asked again, "Do you know what you're doing to me?"
"Hermione," he said slowly, one hand on her neck, the other on her back. "Do you want to know why or what? One question at a time."
"Don't patronize me," she said. She seemed sad.
"I would never dream of that," he said sincerely. He leaned toward her and nibbled on her neck. Small kisses, up and down, directly over her pulse point. Hermione wanted to melt. She almost did. Before she knew what was happening, he had her in his arms, and placed her on the bed. He hovered over her, his hand on her stomach, his other hand under her head. He leaned forward again, and kissed her exposed chest, over the opening of the dress. He lifted his head, and blew on the dress again.
She put one hand over her eyes and said, "That will take a dreadfully long time to dry the dress that way."
He laughed. He thought she was adorable when she was sexually frustrated. "Maybe I don't give a hoot about drying your dress. What would you say to that, Miss Granger?"
"I would say I believe you," she whispered, moving her hand away from her eyes. She put it in his hair. His face was so close to hers. He might as well kiss her. His mouth played with hers, tugging, pulling, sinking deeper and deeper in the lushness of her lips.
Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him up.
"That's enough for now," she said. Her eyes looked cloudy. He looked at her brooding.
"Why is that enough? It's not enough for me." He leaned down for another kiss. She pushed him back before his lips could seek out hers again.
"Draco, it's almost lunchtime, on a Sunday, and we're at the Burrow. What do you expect from me? Please."
She had a point.
"So, it's nothing to do with me, right?" he asked for confirmation. "You aren't frigid, or repulsed? You have not changed your mind about me? You only want to stop because it's almost lunch, on a Sunday, at the Burrow?" he asked.
She sat up and he did, too. "Don't ask me stupid questions," she condemned. She put her feet on the floor, walked over to her dirty clothes from yesterday, which were folded in a neat pile in the corner, retrieved her wand, and dried her dress.
She started for the exit and he sprang from the bed, beating her to the door. He was smiling. He put his hand back on her dress and said, "My, your way was faster."
"Draco!" she said.
"What?" he asked.
"You're confusing me," she whined. She moved back over to sit on the bed. "This is so different and strange and you are so tender and sweet and what does all this mean?"
"It means nothing or it means everything," he answered cryptically.
"Don't be daft. That's a load of hogwash. Do you really think you're in love with me?" she asked. He came and sat next to her, taking her hand.
"I don't think I am, I know I am," he said, now suddenly as serious as she was. "This isn't a lark, and I'm not just having fun. This is genuine. Why do you doubt this is real?"
"So, seriously," she began, "when this day is over, you mean to keep seeing me?"
Draco took a deep breath and then said, "I thought we already had this subject talked to death and buried. Yes, Hermione, I mean to keep seeing you, tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that, and so on, and so forth, etcetera, etcetera, infinity."
She smiled. That was what she needed to hear. She stood up, her hand still in his, and said, "Let's go see what else we can do to help with lunch." She started to pull him forward, but he stayed on the bed.
"Hermione, answer a question before we go down, please," he asked, suddenly pensive.
"What?" she asked, turning to face him, her hand still holding tight to his.
"If I asked you to marry me, right now, right here, and I meant it sincerely, what would you say?" he asked.
"Are you asking me, right here, right now?" she said, more pensive than he was before.
"I might be," he claimed. "Furthermore, what if I ask you, right now, right here, to marry me, and I said I wanted to do it as soon as possible, say, by 1:00 pm. Twenty-four hours from the beginning or our relationship. What would you say to that?"
"That would be impossible!" she laughed. She picked up his wrist, to look at his watch. "It's 11:33! We cannot get married in an hour and a half. It's a Sunday, so we could not even get a marriage license, since most of the Ministry is closed today, and we couldn't find an officiate in that short of a time, or a ring, or a dress, or anything. You are crazy!"
"That's not my question, and that's not your concern. Just answer me, yes or no. Would you say yes if I asked you, or not?" He suddenly stood up, looked at her anxiously, and pulled on both her arms. "Come on Granger, leap of faith here, and show me your Gryffindor courage! YES OR NO?"
"YES!" she blurted out.
"YES?" he questioned.
"YES!" she said, laughing and shaking all over. "MY ANSWER IS YES!"
"Then leave it to me!" he said. He ran down the stairs. She went to stand by the top of the stairs, and she scarcely knew what to think or do. She was about to run after him, when he came running back upstairs, kissed her soundly on the lips, and said, "I will be right back! You tell the Weasleys to hold off lunch, and it can serve as our reception!"
She remained on the top step for many long moments after he left. Harry Potter came bounding up the stairs and said, "Where the hell did Malfoy go in such a hurry? He yelled something about a wedding."
"We're getting married," Hermione said calmly.
"No you aren't," Harry said smiling. "You haven't even really dated yet."
"No, we are," she corrected.
"Okay, fine, when is the happy event?" Harry inquired sarcastically, leaning against the wall, bringing his hand up to brush her cheek.
"One o'clock," she said, smugly.
"Yeah, right," Harry laughed, "One o'clock today? That's funny."
"Why do you think that's funny?" Hermione frowned. She pushed past him and started walking down the stairs. He ran after.
"You aren't getting married!" Harry implored.
"Who's getting married?" Ginny asked, walking into the kitchen as Harry and Hermione walked down the stairs.
"Malfoy and I," she said calmly, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
Ginny laughed once and said, "Oh, and pray tell, when is the happy event?" She thought it was a joke, too. She thought it was more of their 'speed relationship' rubbish.
Harry pushed past Hermione and said to his wife, "One o'clock, today! A little over an hour from now!"
"NO!" Ginny hissed. She turned to Hermione and repeated, "NO!" She put her hands on Hermione's shoulders and shook her hard. "We've all enjoyed seeing you two prance around here the last two days, and no one is happier, that you're happy, than I, but you can't marry a man you barely know! Especially Draco Malfoy!" As Ginny was shaking her friend, all of the other Weasleys were slowly entering the kitchen, to see the reason for the raised voices.
Everyone else started shouting at her, things like, "Is this because of Ron?" and, "Be rational!" Someone even said, "He's not good enough for you." Hermione looked at her pseudo family, shook her head, and as tears formed in her eyes, she ran out the back door, and kept running.
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