Chapter 19: Neither Red nor Ribbed

"I don't understand why this is so shocking to you!" Draco placed the half-empty mug of coffee on the nightstand and palmed her calf. She'd settled at the foot of the bed, entirely naked but for a white sheet wrapped around her. The steaming mug of coffee he'd brought her clutched between her hands. Her hair looked wild, her lips bruised, and her skin pale. She'd never looked more beautiful.

"The idea of you with a T.V never mind an 'entertainment centre' is boggling Malfoy." She took a sip of the hot liquid, plenty of milk and no sugar, just how a dentists daughter should take it. How he'd known that 'boggled' her too. She stretched her back and watched him watching her. He'd made love to her the night before. Not Sex. Not him showcasing his talent for pleasuring her. Something far more meaningful. The way he rocked into her, clutched at her thighs, captured her lips, said something, something he wasn't ready to speak out loud but needed her to know nonetheless. He'd held her through the night, and then they'd done it again in the morning. It was intentionally slow, deep and connective, like it wasn't just bodily fluids and limbs combining. She was terrified and exhilarated like a rookie skydiver. She knew she was inevitably in safe hands, but there was always that fatal chance something could go wrong.

"After the war and the trials…." Draco traced an absent pattern on her leg. "Blaise and I, both just come into our inheritance with incarcerated fathers, went on a muggle shopping spree." he rolled his eyes at the memory. "Emptied some of our fathers' vaults and just… filled our shitty dads' houses with all the muggle junk we could get our hands on."

"I wish I'd been around for that." She smiled into her mug.

"It was excessive and a poor reaction to personal trauma, so says my mind-healer" Draco did not let his therapy slip accidentally. He watched her response closely. She smiled and shot him a warm glance but made no comment. "Of all the goods we bought, the television was my favourite, and I just sort of built upon that foundation. I'm adding a device here and console there, and soon enough, I'm having the whole drawing-room ripped out and refitted."

Hermione stiffened. They'd got into this conversation because he'd invited her to his home that evening for 'movie night' with the elves. She hadn't imagined it would be that room.

"I'd like it if you'd look in at it only to enjoy the irony of what I've done to that fateful space." he gripped her ankle reassuringly. He didn't need her to explain the sudden look of fear in her eyes, "but you don't have to stay there if you're uncomfortable."

"I can look in." she nodded. He'd said sorry before, during and after his trial. They'd never gone into specifics, never spoken of that strange misshapen memory they shared. The apologies and the forgiveness were enough for the type of relationship they had back then. She wasn't sure it would be enough for whatever they had now. Spit and band-aids weren't going to support something substantial, something he declared as not frivolous.

"You were squeezing your fist so tight your knuckles were almost translucent, and… I know this will sound silly, but I imagined it was my fingers you were squeezing." She sputtered into her mug, only realising that leading them down that path could be disastrous as the words flew from her.

"I was… I mean, in my mind, I was trying to hold your hand" he stared at the blankets between them. "I must've just screamed the thought so loud to you, it caught." he shrugged, or maybe they just imagined the same thing simultaneously. "I should have stopped her." He finally croaked.

"No." His pain was warranted, and so was hers. She stroked his shin, letting him know she was there. "She'd have killed you."

"She might not…" he started but stopped when he finally looked at her and saw her raised eyebrow.

"You were there. You didn't look away." Hermione took another drink. "It was a comfort." She'd said as much at his trial, but saying it to him as opposed to about him was slightly different.

"that night changed everything." He spoke carefully. "I was already doubtful of what they were selling… but things shifted after that." he picked up his mug and swirled the coffee dregs. "I'm glad we've at least spoken of it now, Hermione" he nodded as some weight he hadn't even realised he'd been carrying lifted. "Best to start this thing on the right foot."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. She flung her leg over him, digging her heel into the mattress and trapping him. If he squinted, he could see to the top of her thigh. He put his mug down again and reached for the space between her legs as though transfixed, but she slapped his fingers back. "And what is this thing we're starting, Malfoy?" She queried, emboldened by their unusual, slow, romantic sexual encounters and the cloud that had just shifted in her chest.

"I'd say that was pretty obvious, Granger." his adventurous hand returned to her thigh and started its slow journey up.

She shook her head. "I should give you forms to fill out or something."

"You want me to apply for a permit to pursue you." he laughed as he tickled the back of her knee, causing her leg to spasm.

"Is that what you're doing?" she huffed a laugh and blew a stray curl from her forehead.

"You're a modern muggle-born woman Hermione. I've had to re-evaluate my whole approach." his fingers walked diligently over the soft meat of her thigh.

"you speak as if this wasn't all some cosmic accident!" Hermione chuckled and swatted at his hand again, though with less force this time. "If I hadn't accidentally shoved that story into the house-elf folder, none of this would have happened!"

"Absolute nonsense." He skimmed his flat palm around her leg, swivelling his wrist as he went, attempting a more distracting approach rather than stealthy. "You honestly believe I wasn't fully intent on seducing you after I showed you the elf village?" He laughed and squeezed the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh "all that story did was let me know I wasn't the only one thinking about it."

"Seriously?" She crawled up to him, placing the nearly empty mug on the nightstand, settling her sheet draped body atop his.

"sincerely." He nodded and pressed a fond kiss on her forehead. "I mean, I'd certainly have failed. Said something ridiculous that sent you running, but at least the seed would have been planted."

"I'll come to movie night." she pressed a kiss on his scarred pectoral and glanced up at him. "I would have let you seduce me." her eyelashes brushed his skin, and he felt like he was flying.

"Good." he tilted her neck back as far as it would go and peppered kisses over her lips.

Ginny scoured the shelves of the Quidditch supply store for her brand of handle grip. She favoured fabric tape with ridges for added hold during dives. It also had to be red for luck.

"You're an idiot, Weasley." She scolded herself and threw a packet of almost 'red' but definitely orange tape back onto the counter.

"I thought you went by Potter now?" She turned. Dark eyes met hers.

"Only on paper and in bed, Zabini." She smirked at the tall Slytherin. "Shouldn't you be chasing some naked muggle girl around your bachelor pad while banjo music plays?"

"Needed a break from the debauchery, so thought I'd take a gander around the Alley." He smirked and looked at her sidelong. She was sizing him up too. There was a moment of silence.

"seen that picture of my Friend and yours snuggling near the free elves?" Ginny picked up a roll of tape that was neither red nor ribbed. She pretended to read the packaging.

"yes, very interesting indeed…." Blaise paused as he thought carefully about what he would say next. "But I'm unable to discuss the issue in its entirety given… certain oaths that were taken." He wondered if the Weaslette understood. She'd always been the sharpest weasel.

"our friends are prone to being a little protective of their hearts, are they not?" she tossed the roll back onto the shelf and moved towards brooms. Blaise followed her with a nod.

"I'll assume you know what I know." The handsome Slytherin ran the tip of his finger along the length of a Nimbus distractedly.

"assume I know more, Zabini." Ginny tutted at the newest Comet model. It looked hideous.

"Will your little band of heroes and saints accept it?" Blaise tried to keep the bristle of worry out of his voice but saw the soft smile she shot him.

"The only person who'll be a shit about it is Ron." She nodded, "But he'll get over it. What about your lot?"

"I think perhaps the Greengrass girls might seethe for a bit, other than them… his circle of acquaintances is small his circle of friends is smaller. And his friends will be happy." Blaise pulled his lips to the side and thought hard about the following words he was calculating on letting slip "given how long he's been pining."

"Since the fourth year," Ginny said casually.

"And here was me thinking Granger was the know it all." he chortled and nudged her gently.

"Parkinson, will she be alright about it all?" the utterance of the Slytherin girl's name seemed to freeze Blaise. He scowled at a boy who had wandered too close to them.

"Parkinson will be fine. She's always fine. Literally, nothing affects her." He narrowed his eyes as he explored a dusty shelf.

"Touch a nerve?" Ginny Potter grinned up at the man she only vaguely remembered from school.

"ah, there are some things you don't know then, Mrs Potter." his fingers wrapped around a box of tape rolls shoved onto a high shelf, and he tugged it down. He placed the box in Ginny's arms, and she glanced down to see at least ten years worth of her tape.

"Oh my god!" She grinned. "How did you know that's my tape?"

"Always been a Harpies man." He shrugged. "Good luck with nationals Ginny Potter." With that, he left.

Hermione froze as he pushed open the door, the scars on her arm and neck itched, and her breath came in small bursts. "Taadaa!" He said with open arms and presented the single most Muggle-ish room anyone had ever shown. Not a single part of it looked familiar, the windows seemed bigger, the fireplace gone, and the terrible floor she'd bled on, replaced by thick shag pile carpet. Around sixty elves dotted across a massive sofa squealed when they saw her and waved her in.

"What is this?" She gasped. It was like in a movie she'd seen once, about a little rich blonde boy who had all the toys. A TV the size of her father's garage door only took up one end of the room Draco had shoved all of his 'muggle' stuff into. A pinball machine flashed in the corner, a jukebox illuminated another. There were shelves of gadgets and toys, some still in boxes, some she knew to be insanely expensive.

"the exchange rate from Galleons to pounds is very favourable." he smiled as he watched her forget what this room used to mean.

"evidently!" She guffawed as she spun to take in the muggle art on the walls.

"Took me a month to get this place on the grid." he sighed as his eyes flicked to the television where a naked woman writhed, "NO GAME OF THRONES!" He scolded the elves, "I'm not caught up!"

"Master Malfoy will never get caught up." An elf in a fur cloak chuckled, and the other elves joined in. Master Malfoy was most definitely no longer master of his own home. Hermione laughed too.

"If this was game of thrones, they'd all be beheaded for mocking their king." He tsked jokingly as he settled in the space on the couch his elf friends had cleared. He patted the spot beside him, "Come on then, Granger, you haven't experienced television until you've watched 60 house-elves argue over who's America's next top model."

"The elves love tv?" she muttered as four of the little beings debated what to watch.

"Oh, Merlin, do they?" Draco laughed. "It's where they all got their names… Meryl Streep, Jake Gyllenhaal, Trevor McDonald... used to do the news or something… " he pointed the elves out as he went. Meryl was sitting close to Hermione and Draco, the baby wrapped in her arms.

"Hello, Mistress Hermione." Meryl smiled up at her and proffered the sleeping infant. "Would you like a hold?"

Hermione accepted the palmful of sleeping cuteness and cradled him to her, staring down with a weepy, awed silence. Your period is about to start . Hermione sighed. "Have you picked a name for him?"

"We will call him Barack until he's old enough to pick his own name." Meryl nodded as she leaned over to coo at her child. Hermione tried so hard to hide the laughter from her voice when she responded.

"I'm sure the president of the United States will be touched."

"Oh, he's a real person?" Draco asked, his finger dipping to smooth down the nose of Baby Barack the elf.