Quick Author's Note: As I have been writing this out of sheer boredom while in quarantine due to having Covid, I had been able to update frequently. However, I have tested negative and am back to working. So, my updates will continue to come slowly. This is actually the first fic I have uploaded. I have several that I am writing, but I don't want to upload them until they're ready-- I don't want my stories to end up as abandoned works thanks to life.
Draco woke early in the morning, around five, as he normally did. He slipped on a pair of sweats and a sweater over an old tee before he was quietly off, down the stairs and out the front door for his morning run. The blond stuck to a routine every day, up at five for a 5k run for twenty minutes, make breakfast, which only took about fifteen minutes, and then he was down in his workshop to brew until the witch upstairs showed for training, and then a shower after. He wasn't quite sure if she was going to be keen on training today or not. If not, he supposed that would be all right, but he couldn't let her stop for too long.
After labeling the last bit of his freshly brewed Calming Draught and then storing it, the wizard was heading back upstairs. There were giggles coming from the kitchen as he stepped onto the corridor landing, Rosie was up it seemed. The toddler had gone and dragged Scorpius out of bed. The two were playing with the little blond's cars on the floor in the living room. He found Hermione in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the children.
"Oh, morning," she greeted him with a small smile. "Hope you don't mind, the kids are hungry."
"Good morning, Dea—not at all," Draco assured her, pouring himself a cup of the coffee she brewed. He took a seat at his island, summoning reports he would need to finish before he ported over to Italy in couple days. Blaise had better have some answers for him. The blond looked over his shoulder, catching the kids running around. "Ah, ah, no running, Scorp, Rosie."
"When are you leaving for Italy?" Hermione asked as she turned to lean on her elbows on the island. The two whined at him, but still did as they were told. "I'll be sure Selena takes them outside to play today while we're at work. Let them run off some of that energy."
"Good luck with that, Scorpius has an abundance of energy. I'll be porting in a couple days," the blond answered her question, continuing to write. She watched as he worked, leaning on the counter and sipping her coffee. His hair was swept to the side, falling like a silk curtain on one side of his head as it tilted towards the left.
"I like when your hair is down," the witch mumbled quietly, watching his fingers suddenly stop moving as he blinked and slowly looked up at her with a quirked brow. Draco took this opportunity to take a sip of his coffee, might as well while he's being distracted by the beautiful woman standing across him, evidently observing him.
"Oh?" Was all he trusted himself to hum out. He wasn't use to her commenting on him, it was startling, surprising him into not being able to properly speak.
"Yes, I like when it shifts about and also how long it has gotten," she continued with a nod. His hair had grown past his navel throughout the years. Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from speaking and making an idiot of himself.
"Erm, th-thank you, Dea," he mumbled after clearing his throat, taking a sip of his coffee. This was different, not something he was use to at all. The blond was use to showering her in compliments, not the other way around. He didn't dislike it. The brunette's lips pulled into a small smile before pushing herself off the counter and going back to the food she was making.
Draco moved his paperwork over before going and snagging the children up in each arm. He sat them in a chair on either side of an empty one for Hermione. The healer would stand and continue his work while they ate, despite the protesting witch. His eyes drifted up towards the ceiling when he began to hear Hugo fussing in their room. It hadn't seemed like Hermione realized just yet, being flanked by two tots, and so the wizard headed up to collect the squirming baby after changing him.
"Good morning, Hugo," he cooed to the babe, gently running his fingers over the top of his head as he fussed. "You are growing too fast, little one. You'll be one before long. I know, you're hungry, but we're going to let mummy finish eating and then she'll feed you. Come on, let's go downstairs."
The blond grabbed his baby blanket and covered him up with it before heading back down to the kitchen. He shook his head and held his hand up to have her stay where she was when Hermione noticed he'd come down with her son. Draco summoned a clipboard, clipped his paperwork onto it and grabbed his fountain pen before retreating to the sofa in the living room. With Hugo laying against his chest, Draco sat back with his foot propped up on the ottoman and used his knee to prop his work on and continue writing. Her son was a fairly quiet child—when he cried, it wasn't loud at all, and so it wasn't hard at all to concentrate with the baby faintly smacking away at his fingers from being hungry.
"There's mummy now. You've been such a good boy, waiting patiently for her to eat. Good job, Hugo," he mumbled to the child as he sat up and nodded towards the recliner across the room. The blond stood, following the witch and waiting for her to get comfortable before handing the baby off to her. "I'll clean the kitchen up."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Hermione protested, but he merely waved back at her and continued on. She sighed, situating Hugo to begin feeding him, partially covering herself. The witch watched as he began cleaning the kitchen up, partly using magic and doing it by hand. He was letting Scorpius help him wipe the counters down before letting Rose help rinse some of the dishes. The three disappeared when she looked away.
Hermione never realized how good he was with the kids before. She suppose that made sense. Draco's wife, Astoria, had passed during labor, leaving him to raise their son on his own. As Scorpius got a little older, he found he had to hire a governess with how busy work kept him, suggesting one for her, but she had refused. The prat ended up getting his way anyhow.
"Mio!" Caught her attention, pulling her eyes to the stairs in the kitchen. The kids were coming down followed by Draco, the two were dressed for the day. Scorpius came running up to her, being chastised by his father for running. "B'eakfast was yummy."
"Thank you, Scorp, I'm glad you liked it, sweetie," Hermione bubbled out as she ran her fingers through his hair. She looked down at Hugo, noticing he was no longer latched on, having fallen asleep. The witch summoned a tissue, wiping his lips and herself off before covering back up. Draco came over to sit back on the sofa, Scorpius running over to crawl on his lap and watch him write.
"Are you up for training today?" He asked, huffing as he had just situated himself to begin writing and Scorp was already squirming to get up and play with his blocks with Rose on the floor. "Little runt."
"Maybe just a workout," the brunette sighed, her lips pulling to the side. Her shoulder shrugged. "I don't know, I might end up being up for it after."
"All right, whatever you're wanting to do," Draco said as he continued to scrawl onto the paper. "I can stop working whenever you're ready. I'm just keeping busy."
"I've notice you're never doing nothing," she commented as she watched him work. He merely nodded, making his hair shift with him. "When you finish that sheet, I'm ready."
"Okay, give me a few," he mumbled out. Hermione shimmied herself out of the recliner, being careful not to wake the baby so she could put him back in bed. Draco's greys drifted up, watching her small form leaving the living room to head for the stairs. He hoped she planned on changing into something else, the little pair of shorts she was wearing were far too tempting. If they were to train, he very well couldn't have his hands on her like that.
"Shite," the blond whispered to himself as she came back down with her hair pinned up. With his work incomplete, he sent it away before standing and tying his own hair back. His hand pulled his phone out before he was calling his governess. She didn't answer, but that was usually how it worked with her. Madam Danielle Apparated in the foyer, bowing her head as she stepped farther into the room.
"Good morning, sir, ma'am," the woman greeted them cheerily.
"Good morning, Madam," Draco returned as he removed his sweater, sending it off to his hamper in the master bath. "We'll leave the kids with you, then. Hugo is asleep in the guest room. Ready, Dea?"
"Of course, sir," Madam Danielle said as she ushered the kids on towards the stairs to take them to the playroom.
"Yeah," Hermione confirmed, turning to lead the way to the training room. He tried his damnedest to keep his eyes off her bare legs and arse, averting his eyes and looking off to the side. It was near torture.
"Okay, we're going to up your numbers," Draco announced, swiftly slipping by and spinning around her to get himself from behind the witch. He very well couldn't ask her to change, it was his own issue if he couldn't keep his sodding eyes off her. The blond added more weights to the different stations as she did a few yoga poses to warm her muscles up, effectively ruining his composure when he hadn't stop himself from glancing over in time. The wizard ran a hand through his hair, forgetting he had it tied back as he muttered, "Sweet fucking Salazar."
"What was that?" Hermione called back as she was bent over with her forearms laying against the mats, something about a dog—which Draco thought that was a terribly named position, it had to have been done on purpose.
"The weights are ready for you, Dea," he quickly cleared his throat and threw out a random cover. The brunette was lowering herself into the splits, flattening herself before slowly pushing her torso up and swinging her legs together behind her to push up onto her knees and stand. As she approached, her arms were stretching overhead preparing to lift.
"I feel so tight today," she groaned, rolling her neck from side to side before raising her knee to swing her leg over the bench and sit down.
"Oh, I've no doubt about that," Draco found himself muttering. His eyes closed as his hand nearly went to his face, not believing he actually said that aloud. Thankfully, the witch was facing away from him.
"Why do you say that?" The brunette quizzed as she began her leg press reps, she was at 295kg—a little more than an eleven year old.
"Well, you did just go two days in a row having episodes," he cleverly supplied, expertly saving himself from complete embarrassment.
"Hm, very true," Hermione agreed, her words coming out in a breathy groan as she pressed on the platform with her feet as hard and steadily as possible. "Do you think I should start doing yoga after them—to keep my limbs loosened?"
"It wouldn't hurt, I wouldn't suggest overdoing it," Draco shrugged, crouching to reposition her feet for better leverage. "You do get rather lethargic after them."
"Well, that's why I have you, right?" She gave a lighthearted half smile as she looked over at him. "You don't mind helping stretch me out, right?"
Draco felt a rush through his veins, jetting downward in his body. This woman was going to be the death of him one day, he was absolutely certain of it. For a split second before answering, Draco felt for the bond, searching for how she was feeling. That was such a suggestive question for it to just be an accident. Her heart rate was higher, which was normal for working out.
"Of course, Dea," the blond agreed with a safe answer after feeling a playful twinge flit through his heart. He followed it up with something rather questionable. "What kind of chattel would I be, if I didn't tend to my beautiful Mistress' needs?"
"The kind that makes sure I'm not being foolish," she provided suddenly. "I was being somewhat promiscuous that day, and you stopped me rather than selfishly going along with it. Ron thinks I've been cheating on him with you, so I wouldn't have been able to deny it, had anything happened between us. So, thank you, Draco, for looking after me."
"Even if I had gone along with what you wanted, I believe you would have stopped yourself," Draco replied, leaning his elbows on his legs as he crouched to watch her posture and movement. "You're not that type of person, even if you wanted to be."
"I feel as though you hold me on too high of a pedestal, Draco," Hermione quietly insisted. It was almost a lamenting statement, as though she believed she wasn't deserving of the way he viewed her. "I'm not nearly as good a person as you make me out to be. I'm actually quite selfish."
"We all are, Dea," the wizard pointed out, "most of all me. I will not deny that I began our—arrangement quite selfishly, and I do things that are unwanted, even though they are for you. I can't help the need to do so."
"Like I said, you're entirely too much like daddy," she chuckled, earning a small tug of his lips to the side. The two continued Hermione's workout for the day, showering and preparing for their work day.
"So, will you be staying at home tonight?" Draco inquired, spotting the way she nervously nibbled on her lip. "You're more than welcome to stay here for as long as you need or want, Dea. I'm just curious what you plan on doing next."
"Most likely, we will be heading home after work," the witch replied as she slipped her lilac robes over her white button up and black pencil skirt. The blond merely nodded before reaching for her hand and giving her knuckles a couple quick pecks.
"Have a good day, Dea," he said, Apparating away to work after. The healer had decided on a rather precarious plan for the day, he was visiting Weasley during work at some point.
Hermione Apparated to the Ministry shortly after Draco's farewell. The action always through her off, no one ever did that old tradition, but him. The witch hurried through the Atrium after her wand was checked at the guard station. Harry met her at the lifts, stepping in after her and giving her a side glance. She huffed, spinning on her heel to look at him clearly.
"What?" Hermione questioned with a quirked brow and pursed lips. The wizard quickly thinned his lips and shook his head.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Harry quickly replied with a shake of his head, his long shaggy hair moving with him. This didn't seem to appease his friend, however. "How about we get lunch together today?"
"Just us?" She asked, cautiously looking him over. It wouldn't have been the first time he tried something sneaky when her and Ron were in a tiff. The man nodded with a small smile and Hermione sighed, her shoulders slouching before giving him a shrug. "Fine. Harry."
"Great, we'll meet at Hilda's down the way," he suggested before the lift stopped at his floor. She nodded and he grinned, giving her cheek a peck before stepping off and disappearing. The lift soon stopped at her level and the witch quickly made her way to her office. It wouldn't be long at all before lunch was ticking by and the brunette was forcing herself to push her work aside and stepping back into the lifts, ascending to meet her best friend for lunch.
"Well?" Hermione tilting her head, her brows raising to prompt him into speaking . The two took a seat near the window on the far side of the restaurant. Harry cleared his throat after sighing.
"Ron asked me to check on you," he mumbled, but quickly held a hand up. "That's not the only reason why I wanted to have lunch, though!"
"All these bloody wizards always checking up on me," she muttered to herself as her brows furrowed. "You can tell Ron, the kids and I are fine."
"He said you," Harry started, clearing his throat before awkwardly continuing, "stayed at Malfoy's last night?"
"Yes," Hermione confirmed with a nod as she sat back in her chair. Harry's emeralds shifted towards the side, searching for how he was going to breech that subject. "We're not seeing each other—we're just friends, Harry. He has been teaching me martial arts."
"Oh, I see. Ron actually thinks you've been seeing him, 'Mione," he quietly informed her. Hermione rolled her eyes, her head shaking.
"I can't believe he really thinks I would cheat on him." The witch ordered a tea and raspberry scone when the waitress stopped by, cheerily greeting them.
"I think he suspects it, because you supposedly hid it from him?" Harry said, making it sound more like a question, like he wasn't sure entirely if that was the reason.
"Of course, I did. You and I both know the deep, unhealthy hatred he holds for Draco. I would have liked to not feel like I had to hide the fact he was helping me, but I felt it was the best option," Hermione explained, her shoulders shrugging helplessly. "What's done is done. What else were you wanting to talk about?"
"Yes, right," he hurried out, nodding at the cue to leave the subject behind. "So, I was thinking that perhaps you should postpone your campaign."
"Oh, no, not you, too, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, a disbelieving look crossing her features. The wizard quickly held his hands out to stop her oncoming rant.
"I just mean for now," Harry quickly said. "I think you should focus on something that will help move your campaign along more swiftly, give it more influence."
"What would that be?" Hermione quizzed, a puzzled expression settling in. A thought clicked into place and her eyes widened. "You can't mean—"
"Oh, I do," Harry said, nodding his head with a grin. "We're going to have the first muggle-born Minister of Magic before long."
Draco could not believe he was here doing this, but it needed to be done to ensure his Dea's safety. He would put his pride aside for her, because she deserved no less from him. The wizard stepped into the shop, glancing around at the large structure. It was fairly busy, which made sense, all the kids were home for summer vacation. He stepped up to the counter and it seemed the red-head just realized who had been standing in front of him.
"What do you want?" He nearly snarled out, his face screwing up. That was fair.
"I am here about Granger's episode," Draco informed him, a sigh nearly on his lips at how much he did not want to be there. "Perhaps, we could step in the back, as this is the private conversation."
"Sorry, Ferret, I'm a little busy right now," Ron scowled out as he took the next customer around the blond man. Draco took a deep breath through his nose.
"Then you will make time, Weasley," he sighed out exasperatedly. How did Hermione deal with this purposeful belligerence every day? "I haven't long, I have a surgery to do in an hour and I still have to stop in and speak with Jane and William."
"You can't expect me to just stop what I'm doing to jump at your command, Malfoy," the red-head rolled his eyes. The blond narrowed his eyes on him.
"No, that is exactly what I expect when it concerns your wife," Draco said lowly, leaning against the counter as he stared up at the towering weasel. "I expect that when you're holding all the breakables you can possibly be holding, you drop them all without hesitation when it has to do with her. Now, let's go."
"Fucking prat. George, I'll be right back," Ron muttered before calling over to his brother and stepping around the counter to follow the annoying blond ahead of him. Once they stepped into the back of the shop the blond spun on him, holding out a packet. "What's this?"
"Information on CC tremors," Draco responded. He held out a small case, nodding towards it. The red-head took it with furrowed brows. "These are Calming Draughts. The packet tells you how to walk her down from her tremors. Have her sip on one of these after, you'll probably have to hold it for her—her fingers will most likely be stiffened and she won't be able to hold it properly.
"Her head will feel like she has a lot of pressure in it, so you'll want to massage it for her," he went on as Weasley read through the packet, holding the case. "She'll feel fairly worn out."
"'Mione and I aren't together anymore, Ferret," Weasley informed him, his tone sounded as if he were trying to gauge his reaction to the information. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Please, Weasel, this is your third break," he sighed out, running a hand over his face. "The two of you will be back together before long."
"Yeah, I don't think that will be happening this time," the red-head said with a shrug. "She was seeing you behind my back, Malfoy."
"We weren't seeing one another, Weasley—as much as I'd like to agree, we weren't. Granger isn't that kind of woman, you know that," Draco told him before turning to leave.
"Why would you tell me that?" Ron called out to the blond before he could reach the doorway. He stopped, his shoulders slouching as he looked up and shook his head. "You could have easily used this to your advantage and swept her away, Malfoy."
"Who ended things between you this time, Weasley?" Draco asked, setting his jaw at what he was doing. The weasel was right, he could have easily used this to his advantage, but he would also be taking advantage of Hermione, and he wouldn't do that.
"I did," he steadily replied.
"Exactly. Be sure to read the packet thoroughly." The blond left the backroom and made his way out of the shop to Apparate to the Granger residence. He so badly wanted the witch for himself, but she wasn't ready to leave Weasley. Draco knocked on the red door and waited for one of the two to answer. It was Mrs. Granger.
"Draco, good afternoon. What are you up to?" The woman turned to the side and gestured for him to come in. He followed after her towards the kitchen.
"Afternoon, Jane. I just wanted to stop in and give you some information on CC tremors and a few Calming Draughts to keep here for Hermione," Draco told the woman as she sat back at the island to continue her work. The wizard leaned against the counter across from her and slid a packet to her along with a case of potions. He began explaining to Jane how to walk Hermione down from her episode and went through her aftercare.
"Thank you, Draco," Jane thanked him with a small smile, her hands were lightly fidgeting with the case. "Will she ever not go through them?"
"Eventually, she will get passed it, but," he paused with a sigh, a hand going to the back of his neck, "she is going to have to begin talking about that day. It's always going to haunt her otherwise. I'll try helping her with it gradually."
"Thank you, for taking care of her," she said quietly.
"Of course, Jane. I better be heading out, I have a scheduled procedure. Have a good day," Draco called out to her as he took a few steps over to the corridor and Disapparated back to the hospital. The wizard wasn't going to take this time to swoon his Dea, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to take the time to spend with her. On the way towards his O.R., Draco sent a text to the witch.
Me: Care to join me for a drink after work? I'll try to restrain myself and not buy yours. Unless, of course, you would prefer.
Dea: Sure, I have something I want to talk to you about anyhow. Where would you like to meet?
Me: Just meet me back at the house, then we'll jump to together after. You have to know where you're going to get there.
Dea: Sounds mysterious.
Me: Quite.
The healer headed in for his procedure, prepping himself before beginning. He has always wanted to take her where they were going, but he had never had the opportunity. Eleven years and this would be the first the two actually spent time together, in a normal sense of the phrase. Draco Apparated home once the rest of his schedule was taken care of. He quickly showered, slipping on a black fitted tee and a pair of black jeans with a pair of socks and his Converses.
"Oh, hey," Hermione mumbled out, picking at some of the fruit sitting out on the counter for the kids. Her hazels drifted over the wizard, taking in his appearance. "How is it you're wearing simple casual muggle clothing and it still looks so posh on you?"
"I've no idea," Draco admitted with a shrug, his fingers carding through his loose locks. He glanced down at himself with his lips pulled to the side. "Is that a bad a thing?"
"No, I suppose not. I was just curious how you're able to make everything look so bloody good," the witch idly commented with a wave of her hand, standing and giving her two littles a kiss on the head. She chuckled and gave Scorpius a peck on the cheek when he started pouting about not getting one. "No pouting, little man. Are you ready then?"
"Yes, you look stunning, by the way, Dea," he said as he looked what she was wearing over. It was a simple outfit, really—a cream form fitting long sleeve shirt that tucked into a pair of burgundy high-waist pants, formed to her hips perfectly before gradually loosening. Her hair was just as wild as it normally was with its lovely sheen, spirals sticking up and bouncing every which way.
"I'm just wearing a pair of pants and a shirt, Draco," Hermione mumbled out, looking off to the side as she began walking past him in her cream and black Mary Jane's. "Thank you, though."
"You're welcome. Shall we?" He held his hand out to the witch, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. She nodded, slipping her hand his and wrapping the fingers to her other hand around his bicep firmly, preparing to Side-Along. Draco Apparated them into an alley and led her out of it and down the sidewalk. Hermione glanced around, they weren't in London, but she wasn't sure what city they jumped to.
"Where is it we're going?" She questioned as he led her farther down the way. His cheek simply rose as his smirk grew wider, stepping into another alleyway and advancing deeper into it, the shadows growing a bit darker. The farther they walked, the more the witch began to notice a set of doors. These doors were stood right in the middle of the alley with nothing connected to them, and next to the doors, stood a man, or rather leaned a man on the side of the frame.
"Draco, my man," greeted the man. His voice was a smooth, deep, and guttural sound. It was almost inhuman, chills ran down the brunette's spine, he felt dangerous. He looked it with his deep wine red suit and fedora, but his clothing isn't what made him look dangerous—it was his obsidian skin that was covered in various jagged fissures that glowed a coal red along with his black eyes and perfectly white and straight teeth. At the sight of Hermione stopping in her tracks and taking a step back into Draco, the man grinned and said, "my, what good instincts you have, darlin'."
"Dorian, how've you been, mate?" Draco asked as a hand slid around her and rested on her stomach, pressing the witch closer to him. Dorian merely smirked and gave a nod.
"I have been grand, my friend. Who's the dame?" He inquired curiously, tilting his head as he eyed her.
"Hermione. Dea, this is Dorian, he is security here at Albert's," the blond introduced them, carefully taking a couple steps forward, moving the witch with him. He lowered his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, "you are fine, Hermione. Dorian will never act hostile unless provoked. Let's go have that drink, yes?"
"Card, please, Mr. Malfoy," Dorian prompted at the mention of entering the establishment. Draco held out an emerald metallic card, earning a nod from the obsidian man. He opened the door for them and he winked at the witch. "Enjoy yourself, darlin'"
"Th-thank you," she stammered out before her blond companion was guiding her through the floating doors. "What is this place, Draco?"
"This is Albert's, it's a jazz club," Draco replied, opening another set of doors for her, the sound of an upbeat jazz bit greeting them. Once they stepped inside, it was a whole new scene. It was brightly lit with high crystal chandeliers, the light reflecting off of softer golden coloured walls. There was a white bar with a darker hued golden countertop, the tables and booth matched the bar. A groan came from behind her as the wizard sigh out, "I've been wanting to take you here for years and, of course, the time I do, the theme is rather extravagant."
"The theme changes?" Hermione asked as her hazels ventured around the club. As he began leading her across the room, she realized she was picking up several different languages. Quite a few she could identify, but there were various others she had no idea what were.
"Yeah, it changes every so often. I haven't been paying much attention to what it has been changing to, I don't stop in often anymore," he explained as he gestured to a booth in the far end of the hall to the left. The witch slid into the booth, still observing the room. "What would you like, Dea?"
"A gin is fine, thank you." She had never been in an establishment like this before. The brunette felt highly underdressed, but then her eyes drifted to Draco's attire and she didn't feel so out of sorts.
"Have you notice yet?" He quizzed her, leaning on his elbow, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Noticed what?" Her brows furrowed as she tilted her head at him. His own brows rose as his smirk turned into a grin.
"I can't tell you, that'll take the fun out of it," Draco chuckled out as he watched her huff. His hand reached over to a pen and began to scrawl 'gin, fire whiskey' onto the table. A laugh left his throat when he noticed her eyes widen. He put the pen back and nodded at the table. "That's how you order.
"Don't worry, swot, I didn't vandalize club property," the blond assured her with a small smirk. "So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Oh, yes," she nearly exclaimed, resituating herself to sit upright and lean on the table. Draco really wished he could banish the table—how he'd love to see the way the pants she was wearing hugged her hips as she sat there with her legs crossed. "So, I think I've decided to postpone my campaign."
"I'm sorry, you've what?" His attention abruptly snapped into focus. "Why's that?"
"Harry has suggested—this is going to sound insane," Hermione interrupted herself as she held a hand out, "that I campaign for Minister of Magic first. He believes that would help move along my campaign."
"That does make sense," he agreed, relief filling his body. Their drinks appeared in front of them suddenly. He was afraid she was giving up on her goals, which he'd support, but he knew how important they were to her. "You know you have my support, of course."
"Yes, I know. Thank you, Draco," her voice softened as she thanked him, a small smile playing around her lovely lips. As he leaned there, eyeing her, his thumb idly grazed across his own, absently remembering the way hers felt on his. They had been so delicate and perfectly full and plump against his own. He pulled himself from those thoughts and took a sip of his whiskey.
"You are welcome, Madame Minister," Draco teased as he slightly held his drink up to her with a nod. The witch rolled her eyes, a blush rising to her cheeks as she thinned her lips, trying hard to stop a smile.
"That would be hard to get use to," Hermione quietly admitted, holding her drink to her lips as she averted her eyes from the blond.
"I'm already use to it," he stated with a shrug. "It sounds natural to me."
"Of course, it does, prat," she sighed, the smile not being able to hide from her lips for long. "I could tell you I'm working to be ruler of the world and you'd say it was how it should be."
"You are beginning to understand me, Dea," Draco pointed out, but then corrected himself, "forgive me—Madame Minister."
"You're too much," she giggled out as a hand swept her curls onto one side of her neck. The sight captured his attention as a giddiness swept over him.
"You are so bloody beautiful, Dea," he whispered after taking a large swig of his drink. Hermione cleared her throat before looking off to the side and sipping her gin. "So, we work on getting you on top, where you belong, and then return to your campaign."
"Th-that is the plan," the brunette confirmed with a nod. She let her eyes wander around the hall as she began to formulate some kind of plan of action. Her hazels began to pick up on several different beings, humanoids she'd never seen before. She quickly looked back towards the blond who was eyeing her silently. "What is this place?"
"I told you, 'Albert's.'" Draco took another swig of his whiskey as he watched her eyeing the different people in the giant room. Quite a few were animal humanoids—one was an eagle, it seemed and another was a feline of sorts. He imagined she was much too emotionally sensitive at the moment to fully understand their current environment. "Calm your emotions."
The witch studied him for a few minutes before taking a deep breath to attempt to calm herself down. That was certainly hard—so much had gone on within the last few days. She imagined a large lake with a rocky range surrounding it, a peaceful place to lose herself in. As she began to find a serenity on a dock over her lake, she began to feel a buzzing across her skin. An odd sensation crept through her as her eyes flitted to Draco greys, those greys that swirled with emotion when he was with her.
"What is this feeling? It isn't normal," Hermione noted aloud. Draco merely nodded, the corners of his lips rising. " Where are we, Draco?"
"Simply put, Dea, I've no fucking clue," he stated, his baritone taking on a hint of amusement. "I've asked Dorian loads times and he just grins every damn time."
"But we're not in our plane of existence, are we?" She asked, her voice peaking.
"No, we are not," Draco affirmed with a shake of his head. "I stumbled onto this place while I was revisiting Shangri-la. I've wanted to show you ever since."
"It's incredible," the witch breathed out as her eyes wandered the hall once more, observing the people with a renewed perspective. These were people from different parts of the world, and then there were people who were not from their world at all—perhaps not even the same universe, or dimension. Draco watched as her canines caught her lower lip, digging into the soft flesh as she silently studied the different beings. She was far too gone for conversation now, but a thought shot into his mind.
"Would you join me in a dance, Hermione?" He questioned, nodding towards the dance floor. "Get a little closer."
"Okay," she agreed with a nod, slipping from her side of the booth excitedly. His shoulders were shaking as he stifled a laugh at her eagerness. The wizard held a hand out for her and led her onto the dancefloor, a hand sliding over her side and landing on her back as his other took hers. As he led her through a dance, shifting her about on the floor every so often, he watched her hazels dart all around the place. He had a feeling they were going be coming back quite often, they would need to get her a card of her own.
"That was incredible," Hermione swooned as the two stepped from his foyer. The lights were out as it was fairly late, at least for a work night. He cast a quick Muffliato, silently chuckling as he did. The blond hadn't realized her reaction to the mysterious club would be so—frenzied. It was amusing him quite a lot.
"You enjoyed yourself then, Dea?" He enquired with a grin. The witch nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, I had a great time. Thank you, Draco," she bubbled out, hopping on her tip-toes and pressing her lips against his cheek as her hands rested on his biceps. His arms nearly snaked around her waist, but he stopped himself. Instead, he returned the kiss on her temple.
"Good, I'm glad. We should probably get heading to bed, I don't imagine you'll be dragging the kids out this late?" Draco had sat down on the sofa and was untying his shoes.
"No, no, I'm not, but I'm much too awake to just fall asleep," she chittered out, removing her Mary Janes.
"Perhaps, we could watch a movie?" The wizard suggested. Hermione agreed, picking out Sherlock Holmes before going up to the bathroom to change into her pajamas. Draco had set the movie up, summoned a couple waters to revitalize their systems, and took a seat on the sofa with the ottoman to prop his feet up. The brunette came down in her satin, burgundy tank top and shorts, making Draco inwardly groan—how had he forgotten her sleepwear?
"I don't believe I've ever watched this one before," she recalled as she took a seat next to him, something he hadn't expected. He hooked his foot around a leg of the ottoman and slid it closer so she could use it as well.
"It's pretty good," Draco opined, shifting to pull a throw pillow from behind him and wrapping his arms around it as it sat over his lap—just in case. He started the movie up and soon the two were caught in watching the plot unfold. The pillow ended up being shifted and the brunette laying her head on it as she sprawled out over the sofa on her back. Was she doing this on purpose—torturing him? The blond couldn't help it, a hand began to bury itself in her curls, gently massaging her scalp with his fingers, basking in how soft her hair was.
Their night ended, much to Draco's disappointment. The next evening, after their shifts, he found that Hermione and the kids had gone back home. Her and the weasel still weren't together, but he figured it would take some time for that. He owled his mother, telling her that the campaign was on temporary hold as the witch was running for Minister. His portkey was finally ready a couple days after their outing and so Draco was off after informing her he was porting out of the country.