A/N- Eugh, sorry for it taking over 4 weeks to update, but I've been having a tough time and this chapter gave me some difficulty about where to take it! Thanks to Zeraco Garfelton for helping me out with this!
It had taken her a while for her to realise that when he did it, it wasn't because he needed to touch her or anything, but rather it was a matter of pride. Every time she tried to cover one of the love bites on her neck that Draco had given her, he'd remove whatever it was – be it a Concealment Charm, a sweater neck, or her hand. He'd give her a look that hoped she wouldn't do it again (a look that was more caring than angry, sometimes he almost looked hurt) and place a kiss on the specific ones she was trying to hide. Then when that happened he almost always lost control of himself; his eyes swirling to an obsidian black as he would cling onto her. However, Hermione couldn't criticize him for it, since she lost any restraint when he started his drugging kisses.
Eventually she stopped covering them because she only ended up with more. It was futile.
Unfortunately, the hugely noticeable hickeys did no favours for her. Rumours had obviously spread like wildfire since most the student population was there to witness their reunion, as well as watching them run upstairs away from everyone. The hickeys only served to remind people of what had happened, keeping it in their head every time they looked at her. Moreover, from the glares of some girls, to the not-so-subtle glances at her stomach, to the whispers and disgusted looks of others – there was no doubt in her mind about what they thought had happened. There were even some guys that arrogantly winked at her as they passed by for the first few days, not caring that Draco was by her side to see what they were doing. The first time it happened, Hermione dreaded how hard it would be to restrain him from defending her honour or removing threats to what he saw as "his", but he surprised her when he let it go with only a horrifically graphic threat that promised what he'd do to them if they so much as looked at her again. That scared him enough to change his thoughts and move on to someone else he probably saw as "easy", and she was proud of Draco for letting it go without much complaint. However, it was hard to hide or disguise her disappointment when she saw the boy who had winked at her the day before was bearing the injuries and bruises of a fight that looked like he hadn't stood a chance in. Nevertheless, like a normal shadow, hers had not left her – though she knew that it couldn't have been he that beat the boy, she did manage to piece together what the letter that he had sent last night had said – she just didn't know who had done it. For every boy that so much as looked at her in an appraising way, there was most probably another one of Malfoy's cronies in younger years to take care of his dirty work.
For the next week, Draco followed Hermione everywhere. In her head, she'd call him her shadow – always just right behind her body. Never leaving her side or letting her out of sight, if he could help it, for a few seconds. However, if she ever did go missing, then it wouldn't be that hard for him to sniff her out, like a dog. If she were to use an analogy to explain him, she'd say that he was like a puppy without its mother or master that followed around a friendly stranger with the same curious (yet suspicious) expression on his face wherever they went. The only time that she had a bit of time to herself was when it was breakfast or dinner in the Great Hall when everyone had to be with their own houses, but even then it didn't feel like he had left her since he could hear and see every little thing she did. She'd say that she would have free time when she went to sleep in her room, but most days he'd follow her up into hers or take her into his – distracting her with his lips or by managing to persuade her in some other way. He'd complete his essays in the library when she did hers. He'd even tag along with her when he had no work to do, seemingly being content to sit there and watch her as she read and wrote passages, as well as staring at everyone else around them. He had become her partner in every class that they had together if given the option to make their own choices, and was awfully protective when and if they practiced defensive or offensive spells in pairs in class. It wasn't that he thought of her as weak or anything, he had reassured her each time she was angry over it - rather that he just got nervous because it reminded him of the War and that tugged on Hermione's heartstrings enough for her to forgive him.
She couldn't decide whether he lied about that or not. On one hand, he never participated in the duels himself but on the other, he was a cunning Slytherin and had easily charmed or fooled people before. He'd change from truthful and open to closed off in seconds on different subjects and Hermione was still trying to figure out how to tell when he did either of those things. He was complex and interesting but figuring out what things made him secretive had started to become easier since, whenever the three of them spoke together, Blaise would point out when he was lying and so she quickly learned. He would start off stiff if they ever spoke of his family, fearing judgement from people, but as he became more comfortable around the conversation, he loosened up slightly. He knew that they had done bad things that couldn't be forgiven quickly, but they were his family and as anyone would be, he was protective. If they ever spoke of other people, especially if it were other boys, he'd quickly become jealous, though he often tried to disguise it so that he wouldn't scare Hermione. This was one of the points that he would lie about, but his short answers and black eyes always begged to differ. He'd also lie about how long he had left if anyone ever asked. When he lied and there was no obvious proof that contradicted him, then it was hard to tell; but Hermione had begun to see that the words would slip too easily from his mouth if he were lying, as if he had spent time thinking about his answer. She found that Draco didn't lie often though, preferring to have a large portion of trust in their relationship, despite him being a slippery Slytherin. The most he ever fibbed was when he wanted to be by himself or alone with Hermione.
It was very tiring not to snap at him for doing all those things, she found. With him being her shadow – an extra body part that she wished she could ditch sometimes – she felt suffocated. Her friends wouldn't talk to her freely, if at all with him there. She had not forgotten how much they hated him. Not at all. However, she really wished that Harry and Ron could at least ignore him for a few minutes while they spoke. She needed her friends back.
It was nearing Halloween in the castle and there were rumours of something that Hermione dreaded, floating about: A Halloween Ball. Of course, she didn't dread the event in fear of not having a date – Merlin knows that there was one obvious choice – but it was the fact that there was only one choice for her to go with. If there was anyone who would've considered going with her before, Draco's Reign of Torment managed to shoo everyone away, and why should she choose someone other than her Mate anyway? It wasn't as if he'd let the thought cross his mind at all. It was just that it tormented her sometimes that though they couldn't really be counted as dating – or, actually, maybe they were. What differences were there between what they were doing now and what every other couple did? – she had a commitment not to go with anyone else, if for nothing else but fear of driving him insane with jealousy.
Either way, she hoped the rumours were just that: rumours. There hadn't been another ball since the Yule Ball in her Fourth Year and so she wasn't really quite sure why McGonagall had perhaps decided to have one this year, though Hermione guessed that it was probably because the War was finally over. Briefly, she wondered whether it would be as spellbinding as the Yule Ball, but then tried to push it to the back of her mind, not wanting to think about it. The Yule Ball, however, would not go away. She thought back to the moment when she descended the stairs and recalled everyone's shocked faces that Hermione Granger could look so...beautiful. Smirking, she remembered that when he saw her, even Draco Malfoy had nothing to say – no snide remarks to herself or even her date, which was mightily rewarding since he never seemed to run out of things to day – and then her smirk faltered slightly. Did he know then, she wondered, that he was a Veela? When exactly had he been told? On his birthday, when he had received his Inheritance or sometime before?
She pondered her thoughts on the subject of the ball and the enigma that was Draco, trying to wonder what seemed to be different with him since he got back other than his desperate need to be near her. As she both nervously and excitedly made her way towards Hogsmeade to meet Ron and Harry for the first time in weeks, Hermione barely noticed the suspiciousness of Malfoy not being anywhere in her immediate or distant sight. Harry and Ron were both supposed to meet her at the Three Broomsticks where they'd have some Butterbeer and mindless chatter between three friends; before, Hermione hoped, they could make their individual apologies. Granted it wasn't entirely her fault, she wanted to apologise for spending quite a lot of her time around Malfoy rather than just a little bit with them. And, even if they didn't take back what they said about he eventually breaking her heart and to not be surprised when it happened for after all he still was Malfoy, as well as other things, she wasn't going to hold it against them. Although yes, he was smart, caring, loyal and many other things, she had to have them understand that it didn't change their friendship one bit. All he did was pose another challenge, another bridge that tested the true extent of the love they held for one another.
Hermione stopped in her tracks. The wind picked up around her and she drew her coat closer to her body. Is...Is that what Harry and Ron are to the relationship between Malfoy and I? She thought hesitantly. Are Harry and Ron essentially something that could make or break any sort of relationship we have? Harry and Ron had already expressed what they felt of Malfoy's true heritage and how that involved Hermione greatly in his life and made sure to let her know how difficult they thought it would be. How difficult they have made it for her so far; which led her to wonder how deeply they regretted their motives and actions if at all. Did they feel any semblance of guilt for dropping her as soon as she decided to give love with Malfoy a chance? They were protective of her, she knew, in a brotherly way – but was that the only reason they didn't like her with Malfoy, or were they still gripping onto the thought and actions of their childhood enemy? She couldn't really blame them much for that, if it were the case; Draco hadn't done much since everyone had arrived back in Hogwarts to try to prove that he thought and viewed things differently. The only thing that was different during their childhood years and now was that he didn't actively seek out the Golden Trio and he had eventually stopped insulting them when they did cross paths. It was probably only she that saw the changes in him since he didn't open himself up to anyone else, but if Harry and Ron were to notice only one thing that his younger self would've rather died than do, then it was the fact that he was in love with her, which was plain to see.
He is in love with me.
Hermione pressed her fingers to her mouth as a smile began to stretch across her face. If he could love her even with her friends, who could potentially pose a problem, then that was strong and trusting and she too shouldn't let it stop her. It faltered, however, when she began to think again, which wasn't always a good thing. Sometimes she wished that she would just roll with the way that her life was going and not over think certain things that she should be happy with. Yes, he was in love with her, but was it him or was it the Veela? She found it inside herself that she did love him - because not only did she believe that it was selfish to let someone die just because they wronged you - but also because once he dropped the holier-than-thou act and had realised the wrongs in his past, he wasn't hard to love. Nevertheless, how long could she stay in love with him for before she finally had enough of being followed around and with constant protection and jealousy? It wasn't that she was trying to criticise and not love his Veela nature, but surely, there must be some compromise in the middle of it all that allows her to breathe.
She shook her head and continued walking. Now was not the time to be dwelling on thoughts that made her heart feel heavier than it should be. The War was over, Voldemort dead; she was going to hang out with her friends who she hadn't had a proper conversation with in ages; Draco Malfoy was in love with her and she felt things for him too. Hermione walked the rest of the way to Hogsmeade with a bounce in her step.
Draco patted his robe pocket one more time, making sure that the necklace was still there since he checked ten minutes ago. He breathed out a sigh of relief.
Normally he was not nervous. Malfoys weren't the nervous sort; they expelled confidence and authority. But by Merlin did this witch change him, whether it was for better or worse he did not know. He hadn't felt this stiff and unsure of himself since...since...Well it had obviously been so long that he had forgotten. Then again, it was so long ago that he had spent most of his day and free time thinking about a little girl nicknamed Mia that he had forgotten about her too; Draco didn't doubt that he'd soon remember a time where he felt worse than now.
He hadn't gone out with Hermione today, wanting to surprise her – literally. She had mentioned wanting to go out to Hogsmeade the next weekend when they had spoken the other day, and Draco had internally fist-pumped the air. He was in a good mood for the rest of that day and he had seen Hermione throwing him curious glances, though he was even gladder that she had not asked him about it. Earlier that week Draco had secretly booked a table at Madam Puddifoot's and up until the point of Hermione telling him that she was going to Hogsmeade at the weekend, he was spending his nights pretending to sleep but thinking heavily on how he was going to take her into the village without her getting suspicious. Now, he had it all planned out. She was in the village now – or that's what he assumed because he knew that she was no longer in the castle – and Draco was just about to leave to go down and find her, then take her on his arm to the tea shop. He grinned goofily just thinking about it, then had to stop and glare at some younger years who looked at him warily, just so they knew he wasn't as soft as he had appeared then. They ran off and scattered before they could be hexed.
Sure, he didn't really like the tacky decor all around the place, and he had felt more than once that the golden cherubs that threw confetti were placed inside the teashop with the intent to antagonise everyone – but he'd grin and bear it for all purposes of a late romantic lunch with Hermione. He'd been to the teashop before in his past years, one time with Pansy and some other times with different girls, but he hadn't felt like he did now during or in preparation of any of those times. He remembered that during his stay at the Manor, which had been a few weeks ago now, his mother had told him about the times that his father had taken her here while they were still in school; the first one, as all seem to be thought as, was apparently a disaster in her eyes. When he had asked his father about it though, he hadn't given so much of an answer as he did grimace, but then obviously remembered a good thing that had happened or a good thing that it led to and looked smug. Draco didn't even want to imagine what it had led to; he shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Anyway. This would be the first time that they would be alone, in their own real minds with nothing clouding them, when they could do whatever they wanted in the freedom of the village and just enjoy each other's company. Once they were done there, he was hoping they'd go for a walk around Hogsmeade and he'd give her the necklace and ask if she were willing to come to the Malfoy Winter Solstice; he'd try not to feel disheartened if she declined. He knew he was being somewhat sappy and Hermione probably didn't appreciate him acting as if he was dependent on her (but, he sort of was. She did hold his life in her hands), but try as he might – and he really did try hard; he couldn't think of why he would willingly be some cliché sap – he couldn't stop. The flowers, the expensive gifts, the pouch of Galleons that jingled in his pocket when he stepped into the carriage...he didn't really know what else to do.
He tapped his fingers on the seat, a completive expression on his face. What did he do, he asked himself. How did one go about wooing Hermione Granger? She wasn't like the other Pureblood girls who were purely materialistic or dated a guy just for his looks; she actually cared for other things such as personality and kindness. But what was it that made him likeable to her? He was sure that his personality wasn't great and he wasn't going to act as if he didn't see the disappointment in her face every time she saw a newly beaten boy who had winked at her the previous day. Anyway, it wasn't as if it was he that had beaten them directly; there was always someone in the years below him that would accept to do his dirty work in Slytherin, just as long as the Slytherin Prince didn't make their life hell and was in their debt for doing it and keeping him out of any more trouble.
Back to the original question: What was he to do? What did she want him to do? Maybe he'd just ask her at the teashop, maybe he'd just ask her every question on his mind starting with what they would call their relationship. He'd like to think that they were classified as "dating", that she was his girlfriend, but he wasn't too sure what she thought about it; he thought her someone who stuck to proper decorum when it came to things like this, and he had never explicitly asked her to be his girlfriend. This was one of the times when he feared that he didn't know Granger as well as he, perhaps, was supposed to.
It didn't take long for the carriage to arrive in Hogsmeade. He hopped out with his nose in the air, breathing in the smell of damp leaves and the trail to Hermione.
Draco didn't take long to find her; she was just passing Honeydukes and heading in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, Gladrags and the Shrieking Shack. Maybe he'd buy her some sweets from there for her; as far as he knew, she had quite the sweet tooth.
She looked small in her large duffel coat and for a moment, Draco was worried that the strong winds were going to blow her away. She was like a doll. When a large gust of wind did come, Draco mentally sighed with relief as he watched her continue to walk down the path. He walked slowly up behind her, careful not to alert her to his presence, and after admiring her without her knowing he was for once, he placed his hands on her waist (causing her to jump slightly) and drew her back into his chest.
He felt her sag a little in his arms, as if she was exhausted, before seeming to remember something and turning rigid. He thought that she might have been scared that it was someone other than him that had captured her in his arms, and so he leaned towards her ear, which was covered by her hair and whispered, "It's me." He brushed his fingers over his hips softly and dropped his chin to her shoulder.
"Draco," she said, in a voice that sounded fake, and turned around in his arms to face him. He frowned. He knew that she was starting to become tired of something recently (probably him, he thought despairingly) but had she now reached her limit? Was she now trying to fake being happy to see him just for his benefit? His eyes quickly darted around him; was she meeting someone else? A finger twitched by his side. I knew I shouldn't have tried so hard, he thought darkly. He focused back on her, watching her mouth move as she spoke, but not taking anything in. It probably would've been in his best interests to have asked her what she was going to be doing in Hogsmeade today, originally, before he and his stupid plan stepped in. He wanted to kick himself so hard; he probably had scared her off with his dependency. He shook his head to clear the thoughts of the Golden Girl ever cheating on a boyfriend (but was he even that to her? If he wasn't, then it didn't count, right?); he was just too jealous to think properly, as he should be doing. The least he could do was look as if he hadn't noticed her tone and pretend that it didn't strike ugly emotions within him. "-doing here? Draco?" She rolled her eyes and shook him. "Malfoy!"
"I'm sorry, what?" He said, listening for real this time. "I, uh, got a bit distracted." He made sure to look a bit sheepish to add to the effect of what he had said.
"I asked what you were doing here. Moreover, why now of all times to come and join me? I left about an hour ago to come here – you knew I was coming here today, and it sure as hell didn't take you an hour to know I wasn't in the castle." She raised an eyebrow and waited for his answer patiently, though she hoped this was for nothing important – the Three Broomsticks, where Ron and Harry were probably drinking their first Butterbeer already, was less than 10 metres away from her. She was anxious. Draco decided that she didn't sound fake anymore; just that she seemed to be nervous about something.
"Oh," he said quietly. He seemed to struggle for the right words to use, and also seemed conflicted with himself; perhaps wondering how to tell her what he had done or what he wants, even wondering whether he should. She knew his face whenever he thought like that; he always searched his surroundings with his eyes quickly without ever focusing on her face, as if looking for an escape route in case he decided the best case was to bolt – which, in Hogsmeade, was all around him. At last, they stopped, looking at the space between both of their feet. Oh Malfoy what happened to you? her heart cried out to him. You were always so arrogant, so confident. Where's that boy? Maybe she could bring him back, show him that she didn't want to be the confident one in the relationship – that she wanted it to be both of them, that she didn't want to be cushioned and pampered and that she loved the old Draco's confidence more than this one's. He'd understand; he always understood her.
He thought better of speaking it seemed, and instead held his arm out to her. Her lip twitched, she was sure, and she bit her tongue before she blurted out something she'd rather not. Hermione knew what he meant, what he wanted, and looked back to the Three Broomsticks in agony. She could fix him; she knew she could. But it didn't have to be today; today was meant to be about her, all about her and Harry and Ron being friends – not to be so close yet so far from them, then be whisked off by Draco Malfoy to some random place to do who-knows-what. Oh, but he looked so broken, so unsure of himself that he didn't even answer her question or ask her to go with him somewhere. That wasn't him acting, she knew it wasn't – for one, if he was, he'd talk to try to pretend that he wasn't. She could take him with her, couldn't she? They'd...understand. Hermione let out a puff of air; of course they'd look down on it, this was meant to be about their friendship – not their friendship plus Draco.
She was taking a long time to decide and he was starting to give her that look. Some people would say that it was an easy decision; however, it was anything but. She couldn't decide who was more important, none of them was more important than the other was. Both wanted to be with her. Granted Draco had spent more time with her since he got back than anyone else, but then he was just trying to feel like he meant something – meant as much to her as Harry and Ron did, being friends with them since the start of her Hogwarts years. Besides, if she was ever to fall in love with him as much as he was with her so that she wasn't forever bonded with him in a relationship that held no love coming from her side, then she did need to be spending time with him and knowing him better. For one moment, thinking that perhaps Malfoy wouldn't take it to heart that she was considering rejecting his offer to be with Harry and Ron, she thought about telling him about her other priority. Then she realised that he probably wouldn't see them as her friends, as much as he would see them as males that were close with her. How was she supposed to apologise to either groups if she was sure that she couldn't tell either of them what the reason she couldn't be with them was?
Draco lowered his arm, clear that there would be no petite hands on it anytime soon. He could see that she was perhaps as conflicted as he was moments ago and though he understood (sort of), he couldn't help but not particularly like it, having one of his moments of vanity. While she was deciding, he reached into his robe and pulled out his silver pocket watch, then checked what the time was. It was midday now and his reservations were for quarter past. He worried. As someone who was high in society, he was brought up to believe that it was embarrassing to show up late to a reservation or party, unless it was fashionably late, which only counted for late by at most five minutes. Madam Puddifoot's was on the other side of Hogsmeade, which would take fifteen minutes to get to at a leisurely pace; if they left now they could reach the teashop at an appropriate time, but any longer deciding and there'd be nothing leisurely about their pace. It might be snobbish behaviour and attitudes, but that's who he was, and he was even considering Apparation if she did choose him over whatever the other thing she is conflicted about.
"Granger," he said gently. He placed a hand on her cheek, to which she unconsciously leaned in to, and drew her further in again with his hand on her back. His hand was calloused from riding a broom for years, but Hermione didn't mind. It was, recently, the only thing about him that was rough. "Granger, what's the other thing you want to do?"
He hardly called her Granger anymore, she had realised it last week. Only when he was being slightly moody, or felt that she had pushed him away far enough that he didn't have the right to call her by her given name. She gripped onto his robe, holding him close, not wanting him to move away. She stared straight at his chest, not wanting to look at the emotion – or lack of thereof – on his face. She hesitated.
He nudged her nose with his and leaned his forehead against hers so that she had to look at his face. "Granger, please. Anything you want, I'll do it. You know I will."
Hermione mentally tugged at her hair and growled. He was making it bloody difficult for her to decide, just for today, where her loyalties laid. She bit her tongue again, willing herself to think. She was never one to be indecisive. One more time she glanced quickly at the Three Broomsticks out the corner of her eye, then back to Draco's face. He caught her looking in the direction of the pub, but didn't let anything about his facial expression show his curiosity, and slowly drew back up to his full height. He immediately missed the warmth that was provided when they were both so close to each other.
"Alright." He tried a smile. He took one of her hands, ran his calloused thumb over it, and tucked it into his arm. "The Three Broomsticks, then." He began to walk towards it, much to the confusion and sudden panic of Hermione. Oh, she hoped he'd understand why she couldn't – didn't - tell him.
They entered the Three Broomsticks and stopped for a few moments at the entrance, taking in the smell of Butterbeer mixed with Firewhiskey as well as the other assortment of drinks. He looked down at Hermione who was searching the pub with her eyes, pressed against him, and waited until she wanted to say or do something.
After a minute she was still frantically searching, so Draco decided to look around too to see if there was anything interesting happening today. It was quite full today, so he didn't blame Hermione for having a tough time trying to find whoever she was looking for. There were mostly Hogwarts students taking up places inside, as was usual on Hogsmeade weekends, from the Third Years with a permission slip right up to any Eighth Years that had returned. But every other seat was either empty or had someone from the village or visiting the village using it. There was no one he knew in the pub today, apart from the Slytherins and a few other, older, Ravenclaw girls – plus Madam Rosmerta and the few Professors that were there – but other than that, there was no one he knew and no one he thought Hermione might want to meet here today. He glanced back down at her again and watched as she gently closed her eyes, leaning even more against him as if she couldn't support herself any more. He slipped a hand around her waist and steered her out of the door, wondering just who had broken a delicate part of her heart. There were no benches around Hogsmeade, he knew that, but he couldn't help but look up and down the path as he stepped out of the , he didn't find any. Instead, he leaned against the side of Gladrags and pulled her to him. She smoothly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his chest; he rubbed up and down her arms and body as the wind picked up again, and even reversed their places so that she was against Gladrags, just so he could keep her warmer by blocking the wind. He placed a kissed on her forehead.
Either they had never showed up, Hermione decided, for whatever reason or they somehow left without me noticing. Invisibility cloak, perhaps. She greatly preferred the latter, though she didn't know which one was more likely to have happened. She even doubted that she had showed up at the right time – too early perhaps, just because she felt that she wanted to get away from Draco as long as possible and as quick and possible. However, now, with herself pressed against him, with him whispering soft words and tucking her curls back behind her ear every time the wind tossed it about, she didn't really know why she didn't want him to be a big part in her life. It sometimes was as if he knew her more than she knew herself, and that was impossible and weird and it was completely true.
He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, and Hermione withdrew her head from his chest to look at him. He seemed unsure again, but more confident, like he wasn't going to spend a good amount of time thinking about whether he wanted to say it or not. "Can I take you somewhere? I don't promise that it will make you feel any better, but it's with me and it's inside, out of the cold," he said softly. It was hard to believe that this was the boy who attempted to assassinate Dumbledore, let Death Eaters into the school, was forced to join their ranks underage, bullied her and her friends for most of their Hogwarts years and planned the beating ups for boys who were too affectionate with their looks towards her.
"I bet that's what you say to all the girls you cuddle outside Gladrags," she joked.
"Oh, no. Most of them would be inside the store by now. Never mind finding different ways to keep warm with Draco Malfoy outside." He winked at her. "You're different Hermione. You'd rather be outside."
"Always so charming," she muttered, before pulling him down for a kiss to which he eagerly responded. After a few minutes, he slowly drew away, much to the disappointment of both of them. She was no longer even a little bit cold; the kiss somehow managing to warm her insides, and it had managed to distract her from the disappointment of being stood up by her friends.
He took out his pocket watch and checked the time again. Ten minutes past midday. Well, he thought, they were never going to be able to walk to Madam Puddifoot's on time; luckily, they were able to Apparate in Hogsmeade. After their kissing session, Draco didn't even mind that he seemed to be second choice, which made him quite happy and proud of himself because his vanity and arrogance had taken the backseat for once.
He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "So, that's a yes then?" Hermione nodded. "Well then Lady, you'll need to take my arm so that I can Apparate us there."
They arrived at Madam Puddifoot's a few seconds later. Hermione eyed the building with veiled wariness and glanced at Draco out the corner of her eye as he continued to lead her to the teashop. She almost didn't think of him as the type of the guy who would've taken her some place like this – she didn't really expect him to take her anywhere. Out of everywhere he could've taken her though, Hermione was glad that it was somewhere "low-key" in Hogsmeade that was specifically for couples who were too busy with themselves to notice what they were doing. She relaxed next to him as he guided her past the long queue of people waiting to be seated and towards the receptionist who was standing at the waiting desk. That's what he had planned when he decided to pick this place, she realised; he wanted them to be alone, without interruptions, just this once – she was more than sure that, as a man, he didn't look too highly upon this place.
"Malfoy, table for two," he confidently told the poor, shaking woman who seemed to become increasingly nervous the longer she stayed in his presence. Hermione frowned; she didn't know that you could book tables here. How long ago had he planned this?
"R-Right away, Sir," she stuttered. Quickly grabbing two small menus from inside the desk, she ignored the customer whom she was previously talking to before Malfoy arrived, and led them to the best table in the room.
The table he had chosen was a little further away from everyone else's, giving them the most privacy any one could've attained from the small-ish rooms. It was next to a fountain of shimmering water, which he had hoped would aid to drown out their conversation, and by a window with a pleasant view of children outside who were anticipating Halloween by scaring each other, and kicking up piles of leaves that had fallen off the surrounding trees. He could hear the muffled sounds of their laughter and screams, and even managed to pick out one blond boy, which further reminded him of the kind of family he wanted to have with Hermione. The dim lighting provided an air of mystique and, hopefully, seduction – the perfect mood Draco was thinking about when he picked it out.
He moved over to Hermione to seat her before she could do it herself, only to have her shoot an exasperated look at him, then took the seat across from her. Once the receptionist set down the menus, gave a brief explanation of the specials, and asked if they wanted anything to drink, she left. It was silent between them for a few moments, before Hermione spoke.
"So, Madam Puddifoot's." She said, smiling slightly. "Who knew someone so evil could be an inner romantic?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't even particularly like-" A golden cherub floated over to where they were sitting and threw a handful of confetti at Draco's head. Hermione tried to contain her laughter rather unsuccessfully. "-this place. Those bloody cherubs are hardly angelic in the least. They've hated me ever since I first came here; tell me if I'm wrong, but I hardly think that they're meant to be unforgiving by nature," he grumbled.
"Oh," she said with sarcasm, "how could they ever hate an innocent soul like you?"
"That's a story for another time, Hermione." He grinned lazily. "Besides, I hardly want to make you jealous with tales of my brilliant visits to here."
She mockingly pouted at him. "Did poor pug-face not enjoying this fine establishment? I mean, I certainly do - what isn't there to love about all this frilly pink decoration?"
He laughed. They were loud, booming guffaws that warmed her body and caused small patches of red to appear on her cheeks. His eyes crinkled at the corners and all his happiness she could hardly remember what he was like, under all the stress of his task in their Sixth Year. "She certainly did not appreciate having her fortune told or being served the sort of "common" food that she was unused to in high society, that had unfortunately included nuts – which she is allergic to – because she had stressed the kitchen staff out so much that they were irritable and forgetful." Draco grimaced. "Yeah...Her faced swelled and I guess I may have thrown a plate at one of the staff, but missed and hit a cherub." He pointed across the room to a cherub who was scowling at him and purposely staying as far away from their table as possible. Hermione looked over her shoulder to look at the golden, angelic baby and gasped, trying to fight a smile.
"It's a good thing that Slytherin chose you as their Seeker then and not a Chaser, since you appear to be a horrific thrower. But of course, no reason for the cherubs to have some sort of vendetta against you."
"Alright, alright. So first dates don't always go so well. What about you? Any amazing dates here at-" he gestured around generally "-Puddifoot's?" Draco leaned towards her, a challenging glint in his eyes. "Weasley ever take you here?"
Hermione folded her hands in her lap and considered her response. She wasn't about to lead herself into an interrogation by Malfoy about her relationship with Ron, which was awkward and hadn't lasted long, and have him become unreasonable with his jealousy. "He did, actually. It was a bit uncomfortable at most, and there were no allergy crises and I don't remember getting our fortunes read, but it was nice."
"No disasters..." He tapped a finger against his chin. "Well, there's a high bar of expectations for dates with you, then."
"Indeed there is," she said. The waitress came back again then to hand them their drinks – a glass of Firewhisky, each, something Hermione wouldn't have thought of ordering, but something that Draco had decided for the both of them. She'd had Firewhisky before, but it wasn't something that she cared much for. In the special occasion of a date, she figured that she could at least drink it, but not so much that she would become inebriated. She took a sip of it after the waitress left. "But don't try to overdo yourself too much. This is perfect enough."
"Oh, trust me Hermione, try as I might to make this the most successful date in the whole of history, I am cursed with first ones," he said, looking her directly in the eyes, as if trying to convey a message without speaking.
They continued to talk animatedly about different things; other disastrous dates Draco had, their opinions on McGonagall's latest essay, stories of Hermione's adventures with the Golden Trio and any other things that came up. Their conversation was soon interrupted by a tall, blond waiter, who arrived asking if they were ready to order. His nametag read "Aries", and if anything, he looked like he truly hated his job and even sounded bored when speaking to them. He, however, didn't seem to grow bored of continually looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eye and paying her the upmost attention when she was speaking, instead of staring around the room as he did when it was Draco. Hermione tried to ignore him and kept her voice very formal since he wasn't, but neither Draco nor Hermione missed it when Aries winked at her before he left to the kitchens to give them their order.
Draco's hands were fisted under the table, but he tried to play it off as if he didn't care or notice, because Hermione didn't seem to be bothered by it at all and she was making her feelings very clear to him. They continued to talk, but Draco made sure to watch Aries as he moved around the teashop and occasionally looked back at them. He occasionally caught Draco watching him, though he tried not to make it obvious, and raised an arrogant eyebrow, challenging him to something. Draco gritted his teeth together; he sure as hell hoped that their waiter wasn't challenging his claim to Hermione. He was playing with literal fire if he was.
"Draco," Hermione said, placing her hand on the table in front of him. "Draco give me your hand."
"I can't," he said through his gritted teeth.
Hermione frowned. "Why not?"
"I can't unclench them. They'll forever be fists."
She rolled her eyes, smiling in an exasperated way as she picked her chair up and brought it round so that it was next to his. He didn't seem to notice, too busy following the waiter with his eyes. She placed her hand on Draco's knee, which caused him to jerk his opposite one, hitting the table and almost knocking their glasses over. He shot her a sly look, to which she raised both her eyebrows, unimpressed. She moved her hand so that it lay on top of one of his fists, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "Ares, the Greek God, was actually the God of War and was known for his chaotic nature, bloodlust and thoughtless aggression. He was handsome and self-centred and I don't doubt that this Aries is any different from his Greek counterpart. Please don't let him be the cause of your 'accursed' first dates." His hand loosened under her caresses and she eventually moved her other hand over to do the same.
He closed his eyes, let out a long breath and flexed his fingers, intertwining them with Hermione's. "Just stay with me, stay here," he said softly.
"If you'll forget about that stupid waiter, of course I will." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"What waiter?" He asked rhetorically. Hermione smirked at him, causing a grin to spread across his face. He leaned over to her and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. She was hesitant at first, not really confident in showing a big public display of affection – especially in a cafe sort of place like this – but he managed to encourage her little by little not to be so hesitant. Still, she was the first to break away after a few minutes.
Later, Aries had returned to give them their meals, eyeing Hermione a bit more despite Draco possessively tugging her chair closer to him. Even after he left, his hands were still heating up and he accidentally burned Hermione ever so slightly before he realised that it was even happening. She assured him that he was forgiven for it, that she understood, but he still felt guilty for doing such a thing – not that there was even a little burn on her arm, since she was wearing the bracelet that he gave to her, laced with healing charms. Thinking about the jewellery on her wrist, he remembered about the necklace resting in his pocket. Nervously thinking for one second that it might no longer be there, he touched his pocket. Feeling that the necklace was still there, he wondered whether there would ever be a good time to give it to her. Especially now that there was the added nuisance of Aries. Silently sighing, he decided that for now he would smile, drink some Firewhisky, and enjoy his meal and beautiful company and, after seeing Aries looking over again, he decided to drink even more Firewhisky.
Once they finished their meals, Aries had come over again to first collect their plates and then to ask (or more like suggestively ask when looking at Hermione) if they wanted any dessert. It was whilst Draco and Hermione were discussing whether they wanted to share or have one each, ("Honestly, Malfoy, I don't mind sharing it with you." "But I don't want you having only a little bit of your own dessert.") and the more important question of whether they wanted chocolate mousse cake or napoleon ice cream, that Draco noticed Aries looking at his girlfriend for the umpteenth time. Disgusting, he thought as he watched with thinly restrained rage Aries run his eyes up and down the parts of Hermione that weren't blocked from the table, lingering on certain parts of her body. He was almost at the last shred of his self-control when Aries licked his lips, then shifted his eyes to Draco and leered at him. He wanted – dear Merlin did he want to - to stand up and murder him before he could ever look at her that way again, but Hermione's hand that was still resting on his knee, the warnings of his trial from the Wizengamot and the public that filled the room anchored him to his chair. For now at least, he thought menacingly. He would take everyone to trial if he had to. Glancing over to Hermione, he noted that she was still chewing her lip and looking at the menu trying to decide and so had not noticed their waiter's continued lechery.
After a few moments, she looked up and immediately captured Aries' attention. Smoothly, he leaned over, pointed to the napoleon ice cream option on the menu, said that they had a variety of flavours, and then winked at her. Appalled at his arrogance, she gave him a deathly glare and when she spoke, her voice was stiff and brisk.
"No thank you, I'll just have some of Draco's."
"Well, if you change your mind, just call me over," he said with a smirk and gathered the menus before preparing to leave the table and attend to someone else.
Draco stood up so quickly that his chair toppled over and almost caused the glasses to fall again when he slammed his hands down on the table before Aries even managed to collect Hermione's menu. The sudden burst of angry sound alarmed all the guests; everyone was deathly quiet as they watched what was happening. "What do you think you're doing? Talking to my girlfriend like that," he demanded. His pale knuckles shook in fury, balled up against his sides; his eyes dimming to a deathly midnight black.
"Calm it mate," Aries cheekily replied, a superior glint in his eyes. "Is it illegal to talk to beautiful ladies now?"
Draco crinkled his nose. "You could at least try to retain some ounce of dignity when speaking to them. They're not a piece of meat that you can seduce into sneaking off with you to have some sweaty session in the broom closet," he spat.
"What, even to a – what did you used to call them again, Malfoy? What did you used to call us muggle-borns? Supposed to be inferior to you, aren't they? What's got you feeling so threatened...?" He maliciously asked as Draco growled for him to shut up.
"Mudblood," Aries whispered. Draco was immediately grabbing on to the waiter's shirt and pushing him up against the nearest wall, daring him to repeat himself. All the guests gasped and small outbursts of commotion started amongst them; women's cries for them to be pulled apart before some real damage was done, some younger boys cheering for a fight, and some other men and older boys saying that the same waiter had been giving their dates lewd looks too.
Up close, Draco had a better view of Aries' face, and as his hands began to heat up quickly, he couldn't help but notice that he looked vaguely familiar. Familiar in the distorted sort of way, as if Draco had known this boy's parents – or even the boy himself years ago – but that couldn't have been possible. Aries was a muggle-born, and though he had made the mistake of forgetting about another particular Muggleborn he had known years ago, this time he was sure that he didn't know this one. At the park he only ever paid attention to Hermione and other than that place, he didn't go anywhere else that was muggle. Moreover, "Aries" was a typical Pureblood name; unusual, he knew, for a Muggle to name their child after a star sign or Greek God. Who are you really? He thought, though none of his thoughts distracted him for one moment from the intense amount of hate he had for him at that moment.
"It is only the low that reminds a man of his mistakes, of his past," he growled.
"Only the weak can't control their temper. Especially since this isn't the first time, is it?" At Draco's somewhat surprised face, he continued with his taunting. "Yeah, that's right. I heard about your little tantrum up in Hogwarts. Poor little Malfoy can't even handle a little competition."
"One more word out of you, and I swear, I will break every bone in your filthy little-"
"-Mudblood body?" Aries finished, smirking.
Draco drew back one of his hands and prepared to smash his jaw so that he could no longer speak, but before it could make contact with his face, Hermione appeared at his raised arm. She laid her hands on his forearm and tried to push it back down to his side; though he wouldn't lower it, he wasn't going to hit him in fear of it backfiring to hurt Hermione too. It didn't seem that Draco's Veela was listening to her touch though, and it made Hermione worry about how far gone he was.
"Please Draco, please. Not here, not now. Calm down; you can't have another fight," she said desperately, but it was as if he didn't hear her. Aries did, however, and continued to taunt him further with the ensured safety of not being hurt since she was there; Draco's verbal abuse didn't stop either. Hermione pleaded him with things that he very well knew about why he couldn't get into this fight, or any other fights, since he had only been released recently with any charges from the Wizengamot. That could easily change, or have measures that are more drastic put in place because he was such a troublesome Veela. "Do you know how much attention you've attracted? How much commotion you've started?"
Draco paused for a moment, feeling slightly ashamed deep down that he had probably embarrassed her, but with the amount of bubbling rage inside him with no one to physically take it out on, he forgot about the clear disinterest that she had shown the waiter and her aid in trying to keep him calm. The pause was long enough that the people who had apparently been tugging at him for the past few minutes to try to take him off, had caught him in a weak spot and pulled them away, though Draco was still huffing and puffing.
"I am so sorry," Hermione told one of the waiters who was nearby. "W-We'll leave now. I'll come back later in the week and pay for the meal and any damage."
"Don't worry about it, miss," he said, watching as three more people joined the previous five who were holding Draco back. "Parker did the same thing to one of my girlfriends. I'm just glad your man has enough confidence to stand up to him for it. Everything will be on me."
"Thank you, thank you so much," she said gratefully. Hastily, she grabbed her, Draco's coats, and any other of their belongings, and followed the now twelve people as they dragged a snarling Draco out of the teashop.
Once outside, Hermione handed Draco his things – which he snatched out of her hands – and walked briskly after him, yelling and giving small lectures and questioning him, as he stormed off ahead. Finally, having enough of him not listening to her, she used the trip jinx to cause him to fall over and giving her enough time to stand in front of him.
As he slowly stood up, brushing his hands on his trousers, Hermione was briefly met with his furious eyes. He still wasn't in the right frame of mind. "Why are you ignoring me? What have I done wrong?"
His upper lip rose slightly, but he only continued to look down at her with disdain and didn't say anything.
"Don't be so-"
"Why didn't you stand up to him?" He demanded, grabbing Hermione's hand. His harsh voice and grip was a startling contrast to when she first saw him in Hogsmeade over an hour ago.
"He wasn't bothering me, so-"
"He wasn't bothering you? That's the Hermione Granger I know," he said sarcastically. Suddenly, with a flash or paranoia and anguish, he narrowed his eyes and said, "Don't tell me you're interested in him."
"Are you mad?" She said, incredulous. "Merlin, how can you even think of such things?" Draco was getting on her last nerves; and she thought that the date was going to be a success.
"Well, it certainly didn't sound like it! You said the Greek God Aries was handsome, like his mortal counterpart. So you think he's handsome. Are you interested in him?"
"No! Merlin no! Draco stop it; you're not thinking clearly. I–You know that I care about you and-"
"Do you really? I've never heard you say that you love me," Draco snarled, cutting her off, boiling with rage. Hermione felt like she had just been slapped in the face. Temporarily winded from the blow of his words, she couldn't force any words out of her mouth. The most she could do was gape at him. In the silence that passed between them, Draco's emotions changed from anger to shock to pain. Trying to recover from it, he smarmily said, "Well then, if that's how things are, then I guess I'll leave." The dense air had a sense of finality.
"Don't do this," she whispered. "No, please. You know I-"
"Do I?" His mad frenzy had calmed down slightly, replaced by his sombre, crestfallen face. Not wanting to show another second of his vulnerability, Draco brushed past her, leaving Hermione alone with the howling wind. He walked back to the castle with his head down, how nails biting into his hands. "Oh Merlin," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.
Tears rushed to Hermione's eyes, threatening to flood out at a moment's notice, as she watched him walk away knowing that calling him would only be futile. She curled her hands into fists and squeezed her eyes shut. Unwilling to watch his dark figure disappear further as he headed back to the castle, Hermione headed in the other direction towards Hogwarts, her blurring eyesight tripping her at every possible opportunity.
A/N- Sorry for the crappy-ish ending! I might change it later depending on how I feel about it in contrast with the future chapters... Anyway, please favourite, follow and review!