A/N: Tadaaaa! The solution is: Forest of Dean. Many thanks to Cecelia Everhart for betaing this. Enjoy!
12. Forest of Dean
The sunlight that streamed through the trees painted golden patterns on the symphony of blue, white, and lilac flowers, which covered the ground as far as Draco could see. It was truly beautiful.
"Where are we?" he whispered amazed.
She smiled like a sphinx. "Forest of Dean. Follow me."
As if he could have done anything else.
Still admiring the beauty of the nature, he stumbled after her over the narrow path that meandered through the forest. "What did you want to show me?"
She only laughed at his impatience and led him to a pond, a lake, in the middle of nowhere. The water was crystal-clear and reflected the sunshine like a silver mirror.
"A puddle of water?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"It is very significant puddle of water." She laughed like a bell and wandered around it to a fallen tree, where no grass was growing and the earth appeared burnt. "Harry and I were here in winter 1997, just after Christmas. Our tent was over there." She waved her hand to indicate a rough direction. Automatically, he held his breath. Was she telling him, what he thought she was telling him?
"And here …" She pointed at the dead spot on the ground. "Here, Ron destroyed one of the Horcruxes with the Sword of Gryffindor." She stated it so matter-of-factly, as if he she was talking about the weather.
"What?" He exclaimed. He had read about the Horcruxes, but not much existed. The only book that explained their use, but not their making, was The History of the Second Wizarding War.
"Harry was keeping watch and suddenly a doe appeared. It was Snape's patronus. It led Harry to this lake, where Snape had put the sword beforehand. Stupid as he is, Harry simply jumped in, instead of telling me. He was wearing another Horcrux – Salazar Slytherin's locket, the one we stole in the Ministry – around his neck, and, of course, the bloody thing tried to kill him, but luckily Ron showed up and saved his ass. Then they destroyed it."
Draco frowned. This was a lot of information to process. "He jumped into a frozen lake?"
"That was all you got from my explanation?"
"No, but … it must've been freezing!" he exclaimed, lifting his arms to emphasise his point.
"That's why I said that he's stupid," she countered.
Draco let his gaze wander over the area and suddenly realised a fault in her tale. "But, if he didn't tell you, how did Weasley know?"
Her smile disappeared. "He'd left us," she answered briefly. "But he came back. That's all that matters in the end."
"You forgave him," he stated, frowning.
"Of course. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't … very angry with him." Draco had the feeling that she skipped something, but he didn't dare to ask. "I'll show you, where the tent was."
"You were living in a tent for almost a whole year?" he asked incredulously. He really couldn't imagine doing that.
She held her head high. "So what? It was a magical tent. Food was the only problem as it is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to—"
„Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Yes, I know," he finished her sentence.
She looked at him a little surprised but quickly pulled herself together. „That's correct."
He burst out laughing. She had sounded awfully like Professor McGonagall.
"Ey," she exclaimed, punching him slightly, but a glimmer of a smile played across her lips.
"Sorry." He tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably. "So, where did you go next?"
"To Xenophelius Lovegood. We were nearly captured there, in his house." She sighed. "Like always. Before we came here, we went to Godric's Hallow, because Harry …" She interrupted herself. "Well, there we were nearly killed by Nagini, and I destroyed Harry's wand."
He felt a bit sick thinking about that gigantic snake. "But if his wand…?"
"The Elderwand repaired it," she explained and stopped suddenly. "Right over there."
Without warning she waved her wand through the air, and for a few seconds Draco caught a glimpse of a wintry forest, covered with snow and ice, and a little tent in the middle.
"Wow! – What was that?" he cried out.
"My memories. It's a tricky spell, but quite entertaining. Unfortunately, I can't keep it up for long, the images fade at once."
"Can you do that again?" he asked and marvelled at her elegant wand movement and its result. "Wow!" he whispered.
She smiled brightly over his reaction and his heart filled with warmth. Her eyes were shining like Gold Stones and the bright sunlight washed her chestnut-coloured hair in highlights of flax and champagne. On the spur of the moment he took her hand. "Thank you. This means so much to me."
"Next time you show me something from you past," she answered simply and squeezed his hand. "Let's take a walk."
He nodded, very conscious that her hand still lingered in his when they started walking. They were in their own little bubble of happiness. The world could stop turning and neither of us would notice, he philosophised.
All of a sudden, however, he panicked. What would happen when this day was over? Maybe she would sleep on it, and then she would go back on her decision, probably kicking him out of her life in the process.
Nevertheless, he couldn't let her leave anymore. The past hours had only made him fall harder for her.
Together, they wandered around for a bit. It was getting dark by now, and he suggested having some dinner in a nice pub somewhere. To his surprise, she agreed at once, which made the warm, fuzzy feeling inside him grow like a hot-air balloon. She apparated them back to a muggle pub in London, and he realised that she hadn't let go of his hand the whole afternoon.
"What are you going to do tomorrow?" he asked innocently after their food had arrived.
"I really need to check on Ginny. And I need to catch up on some sleep," she said, tiredly rubbing her temples.
Trying not to look too disappointed, he smiled at her. "Me too. Thank Merlin we have holidays."
She chuckled softly.
"By the way, what would you think if I invited you to a little trip to Germany?" he suggested spontaneously. He wanted them to get to know each other better. He wanted to see her every single day from now on. He wanted to have adventures with her and explore foreign places together. He wanted this bubble of closeness to never burst.
"Are you serious?" she asked agape.
"I'm always serious. That's a Malfoy trait," he deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, if that's the case … I'd be delighted." Her dazzling smile made his heart miss a beat.
"So that's fixed then. Thursday to Sunday? Next week?" he said in his business voice, so she knew he meant it. He had the feeling he needed to set their holiday plans in stone before she could run away again.
"Okay." She nodded instinctively. "And where to exactly?"
"Surprise, surprise," he responded mysteriously, smiling lopsidedly.
She narrowed her eyes. "Okay." He knew how much trust it must've cost her to say that simple word. That meant she trusted him. He wouldn't fail her.
The dinner was over far too quickly for his taste, and they apparated back to her flat. "Do you want to come in?" she offered automatically, but he shook his head. They both needed some space from each other. Reality sends its love.
"Sleep well, Hermione. If you need me, come to my flat. I changed the wards. You are welcome any time," he breathed and tried to resist the urge to touch her again or, even worse, kiss her.
"Thanks," she whispered, awkwardly bushing some strands of hair out of her face.
"Will you be okay?"
"Yes," she answered quickly, maybe too quickly, but she gave him no time to address it. "Thank you for the day, and the answers, and the dinner, and …"
"You are very welcome."
They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. Before he could say anything, she stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Good night, Draco."
With that she disappeared like a shadow through the door and left him standing there, dumbfounded.
The next morning Draco woke to the banging noise of someone knocking on his door but not his front door – his bedroom door!
"What the heck…?" he muttered and jumped up. It was way too early to be woken on a work-free day.
"Draco? Can I come in?" asked the voice of Blaise, and then the dark-skinned wizard stormed in without waiting for an answer.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Draco hissed and slipped into Jeans and T-Shirt.
"I'm trying to warn you, mate. You should strengthen your wards," Blaise hissed back and waved something around.
Draco shot a dark look at his friend, who glared back at him. "Why?" He really didn't appreciate this 'warning'. Knowing Blaise, it could be something as stupid as a conspiracy theory the Quibbler had cooked up.
"I take it you haven't read the goddamn prophet yet."
"No! I was sleeping until you barged in like a freakin' maniac," Draco snapped grumpily, buttoning up his shirt.
"Read!" Blaise demanded and threw the paper at him.
Draco almost managed to catch it. "And what in particular?" he asked in a bored voice. Conspiracy theories the prophet had invented weren't much better than what the Quibbler printed.
"Oh, you'll see," Blaise said almost smugly, crossing his arms.
Draco sighed and focused on the front page.
Miss Hermione Granger: Soon-to-be Mrs. Malfoy?
Oh, shit. This couldn't be good. Underneath the article was a picture of them in the pub, eating and laughing, not noticing anybody else.
"Do you know what I mean now?" Blaise sighed resignedly.
"That's all rubbish," Draco snarled, quickly skimming the article. It was mainly about how 'devious Miss Granger' caught herself the next 'rich celebrity wizard' after the 'famous Quidditch player Viktor Krum', 'war hero Ronald Weasley', and 'The Chosen One'. She was portrayed like a greedy and power-hungry witch, who only played him to get the Malfoy name and the money.
Blaise chuckled. "You think I don't know that? But the whole country reads that and they might have a different opinion."
Draco only growled. She would freak out if she saw that, and Potter and Weasley probably as well.
"So, what's the plan?" Blaise asked.
"Why do you ask me? I have no bloody idea!" he snapped and hurled the paper across the room. "I'll talk to her."
"Maybe wait a bit. She might not even be awake yet. Let her calm down," Blaise suggested, summoning the paper and putting it into the bin.
Blaise was right. It was no use to freak out. So he took in a controlled breath and said, "She wanted to visit Potter anyway." Draco exhaled again slowly, outwardly calm, but actually he desperately wanted to hit something. His anger gained the upper hand over his attempts to calm down, and he added threateningly, "I'm gonna kill that Skeeter-bitch."
"I don't think you'll need to. Granger can handle that on her own," Blaise said confidently.
Draco glared at his friend. "Why exactly are you still here?"
"Moral support, mate. Do you want some breakfast?" The lanky wizard grinned and strolled to the kitchen to empty Draco's fridge.
I wanted to say: I just love Blaise. He always makes the dialogue funny and light-hearted, but also a bit sarcastic. Well, at least my Blaise does. :P
Btw: Reviews make me happy! :)