Omg, I thought I was never going to get this chapter to be what I wanted it to be. We're at the half-way point! It's such a bizarre feeling, but I really think monthly updates have levelled up my writing for this story. Thank you to mcal for editing this, and cheering me on.
Note: there is a small, I mean tiny, hint about what is a part of August's update. I mean, I'm not very subtle, but if you think you have any ideas I'd love to hear them! (I admit this is for my personal entertainment lol.)
Hermione
Adjusting to their relationship didn't feel awkward, not like Hermione had expected. It was always the same with new relationships, wasn't it? Sometimes, it surprised her how often Draco crossed her mind. Whether it was in the middle of the day while she marked up an article, crossing and uncrossing her legs under her desk, while she continually looked to the clock. Counting down the minutes until she'd see him again felt like a childish thing to do.
Yet, she knew he thought of her in the exact same way. It was evident in the short text messages she received throughout the day, and it terrified her how easy it had been to trip over her own two feet and land head over heels.
She stepped out of the shower, bunding her hair up in a bun after drying it. Dressing in a comfortable pair of leggings that matched the ones she'd just peeled off after her morning run, Hermione pulled a loose t-shirt over her head. Padding from her bedroom to the living room, she heard her phone ringing, the tell tale vibrate sounded against her countertop as a knock came at the door.
Hurrying for the door, she let it swing open without checking to see who stood on the other side. Instantly, concern crossed her features as she stepped to the side. "Draco, are you alright?"
He dragged a hand down his face, and his hair was dishevelled. "Fine, just a long shift is all. Do you have any idea how many bloody car wrecks there are?"
Well, after her own, she could imagine. "Rough night?" Hermione locked the door behind him, catching him by the wrist and leading him to the sofa. "Draco, you need to sleep. What on earth are you doing here?"
Heaving a sigh, he collapsed against her sofa. "I told you we would go for breakfast."
Hermione blinked several times before laughing softly. "You know you can see me anytime, right?" She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, finding his head to be quite warm. "You're overworked. You need to sleep."
He groaned. "I'm fine, honestly. I'm fine to go to breakfast." He wasn't even close to that. Draco could barely keep his eyes open as he looked over at her. "Granger?"
"You don't even look like you can drive." Hermione insisted. "Look at you, your shirt isn't even buttoned correctly."
True to her word, Draco glanced down to find that three of his buttons were askew. "You're probably right."
"I usually am."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to tell me 'I told you so'?"
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, unable to help herself, and his hand gripped her thigh. "I'm serious. I don't want you to drive like this. I'll drive you home, or you can make use of the spare."
He rested his arm around her shoulders, braced against the back of the sofa, and Draco ducked down to kiss her. His other hand coming up to cup her cheek, lazily tracing her cheekbone, she was breathless in his embrace before anything had begun. "You're sure you won't mind?"
Hermione shook her head, sliding her hands up his chest as she kissed him eagerly. "Not at all, but I do think you should pick one before we get carried away."
"I'll sleep in the spare if it truly doesn't bother you. We could get lunch afterward?"
She nodded. "Good choice. If you let me drive your car, I might not give it back."
His laugh was muffled against her hair. Draco fished his keys from his pocket, and dropped them into her lap. "Feel free to drive it if you like. Yours is still knocking under the hood, isn't it?"
Her brows drew together. "You remember that?" She stood, offering her hand as she led him down the corridor. "If you'll give me a second, I think I may have some pajamas that will fit you. Jeans wouldn't be comfortable." She left him in the spare bedroom, hurrying into her own and digging through the chest of drawers.
Hermione found him sitting at the foot of the bed, tugging his shirt over his head. Her mouth dried, and she knew that her eyes had widened embarrassingly so. "I'm not sure these are your size." Well, Ron was a bit smaller than Draco, in both height, and the size of his chest, and he'd left them some years earlier. "Come find me when you wake up."
"Come here." Draco said, his voice thick with sleep already.
Hermione took two short steps toward him, coming to stand between his legs. Draco stood, a full head taller than her, and he knelt down to kiss her once more.
"Thank you for calling me out." He murmured, his chest burning through the thin shirt that separated them. His hands slid up her arms, ultimately sliding around her back, one cupping her neck. "I probably shouldn't sleep here, but I'm too selfish to leave."
Her heart was pounding her chest, and she thought she might just push him onto the bed and follow suit. Hermione pulled away with a soft smile. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you in a few hours." After flicking the light switch, and closing the door quietly behind her, she slumped against it while attempting to catch her breath.
Taking advantage of Draco's generosity, she used his car while running errands that morning. She only had a bit of grocery shopping to do, easily carried up the stairs in one trip, and she wondered if he would laugh when she told him she'd parked in the back of the parking lot for fear someone would hit his car.
She has absolutely intended to prepare lunch herself, for two just in case Draco woke, but he hadn't stirred by one o'clock. An ill timed knock on her door dashed that thought however when she opened the door to see Molly. "Hermione!" The woman would have wrapped her in a tight hug, but she clutched a pan in her hands. "May I come in? I'm sorry I didn't call."
Hermione ushered her inside, shooting a look toward the room where Draco slept. With any luck, he won't come out. Molly Weasley had never heard of minding her own business, and if Draco appeared, she wasn't likely to start.
"Don't tell me you were just in the neighborhood." Hermione laughed. Both women took a seat on the same side of the bar.
Molly pulled the tin foil from the pan, handing Hermione a still warm biscuit. "Oh, no. I was hoping you might be able to tell me a few things about Charlie."
"Charlie?" She bit into the biscuit, crossing one leg over the other. "What about Charlie?"
Molly swatted her leg. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Now, is he seeing anyone that you know of?"
Hermione shook her head. Perhaps she would continually chew this biscuit so she couldn't say a word.
"I wish he'd settle down." Molly sighed, plucking a biscuit from the pan. "The two of you have become such good friends over the last few months, I thought he might have told you something."
"No," Hermione said slowly. "Charlie doesn't tell me about his personal life. He critiques how I run in the morning, but I haven't seen him for a few weeks." It was strange, she thought, how easy it was to become friends with Ron's older brother. "I'm sure he'll find someone eventually, Molly."
The older woman nodded, the corners of her lips dragging down. "You've missed two Sunday dinners."
Hermione stuffed her mouth to childishly avoid a response. It didn't matter since the woman beside her patiently waited. "I'm sorry. I was busy both weekends."
Molly noticed how she didn't give any information, and asked anyway. "Have you met someone?"
Heat flooded her cheeks, and Hermione leaned her cheek into her palm. "I have," she admitted softly. On the first Sunday dinner she had missed, Draco had taken her for dinner, and a movie, and then they had spent the remainder of the day together. The second dinner she missed, the two of them sat in the Three Broomsticks while he read a book, and she typed madly away at her laptop.
She clapped her hands. "Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful!"
Smiling wide, Hermione lifted her cup. "It has been."
"Tell me all about him! Have I ever met him?" It was an odd question, considering it wasn't likely Molly would have met anyone Hermione would date unless they were an old schoolmate, but she had met Draco. Twice, actually. "You should—"
A door creaked open. Footsteps padded down the hall, and Hermione almost called out, but Draco rounded the corner with a sleepy tilt to his lips. "Hello." He blinked, glancing down at his bare chest. "Forgive me."
After he disappeared, Molly poked Hermione in the sternum. "Is that the surgeon?" She gasped.
Hermione laughed, her lungs deflating. "Yes."
Molly whispered, "Not that it's my business, but—oh, is he sleeping over already?"
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at Molly's idea of a scandal, Hermione replied, "No. We met for breakfast this morning after his shift, and I thought he was going to pass out. He borrowedborrrowed the spare. And no, it's not your business." She winked.
Draco re-entered the room, this time appearing more presentable than he had.
Disappointment bubbled up as Hermione saw that hesaw he was wearing a shirt. Still, his hair was tousledtouseled as he'd tossed and turned, or maybe he had just run his fingers through it. The pajama bottoms were a touch too short for him, ending above his ankles. "What are you laughing at?" Draco rumbled. "May I?" He pointed toward the pan.
"Oh, certainly!" Molly gushed, and shot a look to her female counterpart, mouthing, "His manners!"
Hermione almost snorted. "Draco, this is Molly. Molly, this is Draco." The two shook hands before Draco leaned against the counter behind Hermione, idly fidgeting with the edge of her blouse, and tracing the bare skin there.
If Molly noticed, she didn't say anything. "How did the two of you meet?"
"I dumped my tea all over her." Draco said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I might have called her insufferable."
Hermione laughed, unable to hold in the giggle. "Molly knows about that already. It came up." But it wasn't the first time they had met. "We barely spoke until the car wreck, but he took me to work for a few weeks after that. You could say we've grown close."
His touch was warm against her hip, unable to keep his hands to himself while he continued the story. "She taught me how to make an omelette. I'm terrible at cooking them."
Molly choked. "That's adorable!"
"I asked her to be my date to a party my mother held for my birthday last month. I'd say we made it official then." Draco smiled, chuckling under his breath as she shivered.
She wondered just how long their relationship had been unofficial. Since shortly after the car wreck, she supposed.
Molly stood, brushing crumbs from her skirt as she flattened it. "I didn't know you had company, or I wouldn't have invited myself in." She wrapped Hermione in a one armed hug. "Ginny wasn't kidding. He's fit." She whispered.
Hermione spluttered, and Molly hit her on the back.
"Now, now, dear. I know the biscuits are a tad dry, but don't exaggerate." Molly turned to Draco. "It was lovely to meet you, Draco. I hope I'll be seeing you soon, perhaps at Sunday dinner?" She looked at Hermione.
"We'll discuss it." Hermione hoped he didn't mind Molly's forwardness. The front door swung shut moments later, and she sighed in relief. "I hope you didn't mind her questions. Really, you didn't have to tell her how we met."
Draco arched an eyebrow, and she noticed that the shirt was also too small for him. It rode up, revealing a small freckle on his hip that she definitely wasn't staring at. "You're making the mistake of believing that I mind when someone asks." Taking a step closer, Draco grabbed her hips and easily lifted her onto the counter.
"You just seem like you're a private person, and I don't want you to feel obligated to answer Molly's questions. Especially if you do come to a Sunday dinner—and no pressure—since there will be a hundred questions." His palms slid up her calves, and then her thighs, stopping far sooner than she wanted them to. Focus. "Stop doing that."
His lips lifted into a lopsided smile that made her heart beat out of rhythm. "Is it distracting?" he murmured.
It was. God, it was distracting in every single way, and she felt like a teenager. "Yes."
Draco laughed quietly, and hooked his fingers around the backs of her knees, pulling her to the edge of the counter. "I don't mind."
She met his gaze, her hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Why's that?"
"Because lately," Draco dipped his head down, his nose brushing hers, "you're the best damn thing that's happened to me."
All of the oxygen rushed out of her lungs. Hermione cupped his face, hauling him forward, and kissed him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, not caring how fast they were moving at the moment, and locked her ankles.
He towered over her, a full foot taller, and pulled her against his chest. His short groan shot through her, and she tangled her fingers in his hair.
She whispered his name.
"I meant it," he murmured. "I understand it's a lot to say so—"
Hermione laughed breathlessly. "If you say too soon, I'll hit you with a ladle."
He glanced over her shoulder, eyes glazed. "It's across the kitchen. You'll never make it."
Eyes flashing, Hermione slid her palms down his chest, and let her legs fall away from his waist before shoving him away. Scrambling over the counter, and touching down to the floor on the other side, she snatched the ladle.
His laugh echoed in her flat as he came to stand just in front of her. His shirt was askew from her roaming hands, his lips bruised, and she could only imagine that she looked the same. "Did you really just cut a perfectly good snog short so you could prove me wrong?"
Her cheeks reddened. "What if I did?" Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek.
He took a step forward. "I think I'd like you even more."
Draco had a penchant for grabbing her, she thought as he knocked the utensil from her hand, and pinned her to the counter.
Hermione didn't mind.
Draco
She nibbled her lower lip when she opened the door. Dressed casually in a pair of shorts, and a tank top, Hermione stepped to the side for him to come in. "I'm really sorry. You don't have to do this." She rushed, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. "Honestly, I don't mind us continuing with our plans—and I'm sorry I didn't know you'd made them. Harry and Ron can help me."
He cut her off by swooping down and capturing her lips. She fell silent with a squeak before sliding her arms around his neck. Within the last handful of weeks, she'd lost her shyness. "I don't mind." Draco reminded her, smirking as he took in her red cheeks. "So, where is everything then?"
Hermione ran her fingers through her hair before cupping the back of her neck and taking three steps backward. "So, they assembled it, but then they left it." She held an arm out, pointing to the corridor that led to her bedroom, the spare, and the loo. "I'm not sure how they thought I was going to move all of this. I'm sing—I live alone."
Snorting at her slip up, he poked his head around the corner. Just like she'd told him over the phone, she'd ordered a new furniture set, and the delivery hadn't gone as she expected. "For fucks sake, why did you pay for delivery?"
"The assembly was part of the delivery charge." Hermione murmured. "Most of it's too heavy for me to move. I tried moving it even just an inch, but it won't budge."
He nodded. "It's real wood, so I'm not surprised. Did you ask for them to stay?"
Hermione tried moving the desk for good measure, but it didn't move. "Yes, I asked them if they could arrange it how I wanted, and they told me they had another delivery to make. Only one of them talked to me, and he asked me if I had another man to help me."
His nostrils flared. "Isn't that why you paid extra?"
"I know it's not the best way to spend the day, and…" She was like a broken record. "You really don't mind, do you?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't. It needs to be done, but while I do this, you need to call that shop and request a refund for the delivery fee."
She blanched. "Oh, no, it's okay. I don't want to get them in trouble."
Draco let it go, silently deciding that he would take care of it himself. "Alright, that dresser at the back," he pointed, "where do you want it?"
"My bedroom. It's that room on the right." Hermione wedged herself in between the desk and wardrobe, making her way to the last room. "I've already cleared a spot. Well, Charlie and Ron did since Charlie took my old set."
He couldn't squeeze past the furniture, and he ignored her tiny giggle, as endearing as it was. Draco climbed on top of the desk, bracing his palms against the wood as he slid across it.
"What are you doing?" She shrieked. "Get off of that! You're going to break it!"
"Are you calling me fat?"
She spluttered. "I'm calling you dense!"
He paused. "Dense? That's a new one. What does that even mean?" Draco's feet touched the carpet, and he wiped the dust from his hands. "Did they just pull it out of a warehouse?"
"I mean that you're," She broke off as he was pressed to her in the small space, her eyes flew open as he was content not to move. "Muscle is more dense than fat, Dr Malfoy." Hermione muttered.
He sniggered uncontrollably, his chest shaking. "Astute observation." Draco happened to like how her gaze often lingered on his chest, or his biceps, just like she did then. "It's not going to break if it's worth the money you spent."
She crossed arms. "Well, I'm glad you weren't here when my furniture was the same set as I had as a broke uni student."
"Broke?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Hermione waved her hand. "I slept on Harry's couch for months after Ron and I split. It was terrible, and I never want to live with Harry again." She turned, stepping into the room, and pointed toward a spot where the carpet was lighter than the rest, just by a smidge. "Okay, so this one is easy. I'd like it to go where the old one did."
That was the only easy one.
Several hours later, Draco is drenched in sweat. The pieces are far from light, and if she wasn't watching his every move so closely, he would have admitted that it was too heavy, and it was unwise to move with only one person.
But she was watching him, and he liked it, so he put up with the monumental strain.
His mother would call him a fool.
"Um," she whispered, tension evident in her voice. "A little to the left."
He hung his head, blond strands falling into his face. "Are you kidding me? I just moved it from the left." Draco heaved a sigh, and inched it back toward the left. "Here?"
When he glanced over his shoulder, he found her shaking her head. "It's alright. Just leave it there. That will do."
"No, where do you want it because I am bloody well putting it there."
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. It was incredibly distracting and all he wanted to do was sit her on her new desk and snog her until she forgot about placements. "Well, I think I'd rather like it to be in front of the window."
That didn't make any sense, the window in her room was hidden behind the headboard of her bed, which he would like to add, was also heavy. "You want it in a different room?" He deadpanned. "Alright, which one?"
Hermione wanted to debate him, or ask him why he was being so tolerant of her indecisiveness, he could tell. "The, um, living room."
Right, the room where he'd just hauled this from.
Of course.
That was just his luck.
Draco dragged it from the bedroom, and into the corridor. Muttering under his breath as he pulled it into place, that if she said to the left one more bloody time…
She came to his side, nudging him in the ribs before handing him a large glass of water. "That's perfect. Thank you."
He took a long drink, eventually guzzling the entire glass. She was staring at him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "What is it?"
"I know you said you didn't mind, but I'm sure this isn't how you wanted to spend your day off." She stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, but she pulled away before he could turn his head. "I promise I'll make it up to you."
Draco arched a pale brow. "How do you plan to that?"
Hermione's face was always easy to read, and for a split moment, a hungry look entered her eyes before it fell away completely. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she feigned coy.
Her hand knocked the empty glass from the desk as he set her atop of it. He never tired of cradling her face, or the way she melted into him as he did, and it was impossible to tire of her small hands fisting in his shirt. Draco nipped her lower lip, his hands dropping, and sliding up her sides. "See?" he murmured against her lips. "Sturdy?" Draco attempted to rock it back and forth, only for it to not move.
Her hands slipped under his shirt, her fingers trailing across his abdomen. "How sturdy?" She breathed.
His thoughts halted. The implication was clear, and he wanted her to be serious, to want it, but Draco held himself back. They agreed they were moving quickly, but that was—
She pinched his nipple, and giggled.
"Why, you…" He trailed off, tearing his lips from hers and tickling her sides. A grin spread across his face as she wiggled under him, the desk still unmoving, and as her laughter echoed throughout her flat.
"Quit! Quit!" She gasped, smacking his chest. "I give!"
"That's not an option." Draco muttered darkly. "How were you going to make it up to me again?"
She spoke between gasps, unable to get out of his grip. "I'll make dinner? We could spend the evening together where you definitely don't tickle me again."
He let her go. "Fine."
Hermione slumped on the desk before standing on shaky legs. "I'll go ahead and start that. Is there anything you want in particular?"
"No." Draco shook his head. "I'm going home to take a shower. I'm filthy."
She nodded, telling him to just let himself back in when he returned, and she didn't even notice as he swiped the business card off of the coffee table.
Hermione
Her front door quickly opened and shut with a click while she sat on the counter, legs crossed, and her heels bumped the cupboard. Engrossed in a notebook that she'd recently purchased—despite not having filled her last—Hermione didn't look up as she said, "You take long showers."
Draco chuckled. "I don't, actually."
"You were gone for two hours." Hermione replied. She jotted down another quick note before turning to check the roast she'd left on simmer.
He dropped several bills in front of her, and she laid her pen down. "What are you working on?" He asked nonchalantly. "Are you enjoying it?" Draco also set her favorite drink in front of her, pumpkin and all, while holding his own.
Having already snatched her pen back up, Hermione poked the hundred pounds sitting on her counter. "What is this?"
"The man who suggested you find another man apologises, by the way. He tried to apologise to me, but I told him that wouldn't do." Draco slid another piece of paper toward her.
A handwritten apology that spanned half of the page. While it sounded genuine, it also sounded as if it had been written under duress. "You forced him to write me an apology?" She gaped.
Draco shrugged. "I didn't force him, but I strongly suggested him to do so."
"And you convinced them to issue a refund? They have a no refund policy!"
"Yes, I'm aware." Draco rolled his shoulders. "Unfortunately for them, I have a no bullshite policy, and their behavior today was complete shit."
A smile curved her lips. "Thank you, no one has ever done anything like this before."
He rounded the counter, shedding his jacket and hanging it over the chair. "It started pouring earlier." Draco told her quietly.
"It's still raining." Hermione tilted her head toward the windows where her new desk sat. "What of it?"
"Are you busy with writing?"
"I could be pulled away."
He squeezed her hip. "Only if you're done writing what's important, which I suppose would be all of it, but would you like to just watch the rain?"
"I really would." Hermione grinned. She flipped her notebook shut and followed him outside. Raindrops landed against her bare feet as she sat on the concrete landing, her knee bumping his. "How was work last night?"
He'd been dead on his feet that morning. Draco held his styrofoam cup in his hands, sipping his tea. "A forty-two year old woman had a heart attack last night, and crashed into another vehicle. The other driver walked away with minimal injuries thanks to their seatbelt, but she was rushed into surgery at two in the morning."
She had to have just spoken to him moments before that. "Is she alright?"
He nodded. "Expected to make a full recovery, I'm pleased to say. There was a mugging, and a teenager was shot. I suspect he's under sedation still, but will also make a full recovery." He swallowed another drink. "It was touch and go for a long while."
Hermione covered his hand with her own. "You're brilliant."
His shoulder brushed the black bars leading down from the railing, the water rolling down his sleeve. "How was work yesterday?"
Tiring, but she spared him the long story. Taking a long drink of her frappuccino that went straight to her head, she shrugged. "Just like any other day. Padma struggled with an article so we spent an hour in my office figuring it out."
"What was it about?"
"She heads the gossip column, and thought her work wasn't up to par with her normal."
"Was it worse than normal?"
Hermione shook her head. "I personally think most of that column is overplayed , but she's fucking good at it. Just a little self doubt, I think. Anyway, it was as an article on romancing your man." She finished with air quotes. "She found that I wasn't much help."
Draco sniggered behind his palm. "I met Padma when I came to your office for the first time."
She remembered. Moments after his departure, Padma bounced into her office before throwing herself into the chair he'd recently vacated. "Yes," Hermione said slowly as she sipped her drink. "She asked about you."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It's not often I get visitors that aren't Harry or Ron."
He cleared his throat, and she looked up. "What is it?"
Draco leaned against the slab of brick behind him, resting his forearm on his knee. "I wanted to ask about Ron." His tone was cautious at best, and her stomach flipped. "I've been open about Astoria, granted the situation was a bit different. I know you've told me things about him, but he's still a close friend of yours so I'd like to know more, if that's alright with you?"
"Does it make you uncomfortable that Ron and I are still friends?"
His eyes narrowed. "What? Of course not, Hermione. You're an adult. Contrary to what others may think, you can be friends with your ex's, best friends even. Did you expect me to care?"
Hermione shook her head. "Well, not particularly. Ron and I should have never been more than friends, but between everyone pushing us together, and a childhood crush, we got off track." She explained, a weight lifting from her chest. "There were some issues with a previous partner, and I broke it off since he was jealous of Ron."
He seemed to understand as he took a long drink. "Naturally. The two of you are incredibly close. I saw you when they brought him into the hospital, but even with just a glimpse, it was obvious."
"He's one of my best friends, in spite of everything else."
Draco's mouth curved into a smile. "I'm not the jealous type, Hermione. Not when it comes to men who either don't stand a chance, or have already lost theirs. I'm also not the sort of man who would expect you to pick a new relationship with me over a lifelong friendship."
Fuck, he was continually turning into the best man she'd ever met at each turn. Hermione grinned, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. "I should check on dinner."
Draco climbed to his feet before she could, and he held his hand out, pulling her to her feet. Tucking his hands into his jacket, he followed her inside. He hung his damp jacket on the rack while she hurried into the kitchen.
She didn't hear him step behind her. Hermione squeaked as his arms slipped around her waist. "What are you doing?"
"I think it's called cuddling." He murmured into her neck, nuzzling the skin there. "Do you have any idea how easily distracted you are?"
That's the thing, Hermione wasn't easily distracted. She'd gone through university with Harry and Ron. She'd studied for exams while Harry and Ron shot balls of paper at the other. She'd lived with Harry for a long while, working on a manuscript while he and Ginny always yelled across the flat rather than walking.
She wasn't easily distracted at all, unless it was the attractive blond standing behind her.
Bollocks, she hadn't answered him, and almost a full minute had passed. "I'm not." Her voice was strangled. "Honestly, I could ignore you if I wanted to."
His laugh was low, just beneath her ear, and she couldn't curb her shiver. "I don't believe you." Draco kissed the shell of her ear. "Care to make a friendly wager?"
Hermione couldn't focus. Fuck! "Sure," she muttered. "What do you want?"
"If you can ignore me for the next five minutes, I'll do any favor you want." Draco said quietly, his fingers sliding down her sides. He didn't let his hands wander, and she wasn't sure if she was relieved. "Or, I'll let you take my car for the week. I'll drive yours."
She perked up at that. Did he already see through her so well? "And if I lose?"
He kissed down her neck, and she gripped the edge of the counter. She would never make it through five minutes, not when— "I want you submit another story to a publishing house."
The fork fell from her hands, clattering against the tile. Hermione spun to face him, her eyes wide. "What did you just say?"
His wore a lopsided grin that could cause heart failure. "You heard me."
She had. It was echoing in her head, over and over again. She swallowed three times, several seconds passing between them. "I don't have anything to submit." Hermione whispered. It was a tremendous lie, but Draco had no way of knowing that. "Don't look at me like that, I—"
"Your nose twitches when you lie." He tapped the tip of her nose, the apparently traitorous part of her.
"Okay." Hermione knew she was going to lose as she whispered in agreement. "But only if you tell me why you care."
He arched an eyebrow. "It's important to you, and I think you need a push."
She hated that he was right. "It's terrifying, you realise? It's a part of me, no matter how much I liked it, and handing it over is…"
"The first step?" He asked. "Someone said that's the hardest step you take."
Hermione snorted. "That's oddly whimsical coming from you." Her hands slid up his biceps, her fingers fidgeting with his sleeve where it was rolled up. "I'll pull something out."
His nose brushed hers. "I knew you had something." He grabbed her hips, and turned her. "You should be checking dinner."
The countdown started, and she was ruined within the first thirty seconds.
Draco leaned over her shoulder, stealing a bite of food as she checked it. When she started to scold him, he took her by surprise when he massaged her shoulders. "When was the last time you had a massage? These knots are brutal." He murmured, his thumbs dipping into her skin.
A weak moan escaped her, and she nearly melted into the floor. "I don't think I've ever had a massage." Hermione's answer was weak, flimsy at best, and she couldn't think straight.
Draco kissed the nape of her neck, a sweet spot that he'd found quickly. He cupped her neck there whenever he kissed her, and she'd mentioned it once by mistake.
"Dinner's done,"
Draco's hands fell from her shoulders. "You lost."
"I'm not that upset about it, I've realised." Hermione leaned against the counter, watching him pull his mobile from his pocket. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer her before laying his mobile beside her. "Come here," Draco's hand found hers as he tugged her close and slid an arm around her waist. Music played in her kitchen while he swayed with her. "Seriously," he muttered. "Book a massage."
Her head fell back as she giggled. "I'll look into it."
Draco raised his arm, twirling her, and bringing her into his chest again. "Hermione?"
Content to lay her head on her chest, she only mumbled, "Hmm?"
A silence followed. "Nothing," he said quietly. When she tensed in his arms, Draco sighed. "They're mental if they don't accept your submission."
Water stung her eyes, and she kept her head down. "Thank you." The two of them swayed for several more minutes. "Our food will get cold."
His lips touched the top of her head. "It can be reheated."
After that night, Hermione didn't see Draco for a couple days. It was jarring, surprisingly so, to go from seeing him at some point each day—whether it was at The Three Broomsticks, where Luna watched them from behind the counter, or because they'd made plans of their own—to not at all.
They sent text messages when they could. Draco worked nights for the week, and each morning he was running ragged. It was all he could do to get into bed, and she'd had conflicting plans by the time he woke up. She had dinner with her parents, who were interested in knowing about the new man in her life. Hermione offered them no real answers. There was the pub night where Ron and Harry took her out with Ginny and Susan Bones—Ron's new something.
Being the fifth wheel was irritating in ways she didn't expect, but it had been a fun night.
Hermione exited the dog kennels while pulling her ringing mobile from her pocket. Draco's name flashed across it, and the picture she'd taken during a spontaneous breakfast date at four in the morning. "Hello?" She answered.
"Hey," Draco murmured sleepily. "Are you busy?"
The barking that bled through the walls answered for her. "Give me just a second to get into the lobby. Hagrid was the only one here today, and he's out on a call, so I volunteered today."
"Did you have a good time?"
She grinned as she fell into the plastic chair in the waiting room. "I did, actually. I gave Cerberus a bath since he's been adopted and his new family will be here to pick him up soon."
"Oh, love," Draco laughed as her tone dropped. "That's a good thing!"
"I know." She muttered. "I'm happy. I'll just miss him."
"There are plenty of more dogs to save." Draco said gently. "Since you're not busy, at least for now, I have two questions, but the first is contingent on your answer to the first."
Hermione didn't say a word, unsure of what that meant.
"That sounded ominous, didn't it?"
"A bit," she replied hesitantly.
"Well—bugger, it's three questions. First, are you busy on Friday?" She didn't. "It's my weekend with Scorpius, so I'll be leaving early in the afternoon, but he would like to see you. All we're going to do is watch movies, and eat takeaway. Don't feel obligated."
She knew what the other question was, but Hermione asked anyway. "That sounds lovely, but what is the third question?"
He sucked in a breath. "Astoria wants to meet you, in person this time. I know it's a lot to ask considering you don't particularly like her—"
Hermione combed her fingers through her tangled curls. "It's fine, Draco. Astoria is his mother. She has every right; I don't mind."
"—but I would love to spend time with both of you and I promise—did you just agree?" Draco asked breathlessly.
She laughed, the sharp sound echoing against the metal walls. "Some time ago, but thanks for asking."
Draco's chuckle sounded close against her ear. "Thank you."
"There's nothing to thank me for. I should be thanking you for inviting me." Hermione held her phone to her ear with her shoulder. "Oh, I think someone's about to come in. I'll talk to you later."
"How long will you be at the shelter today?"
She paused. "A few more hours, I'm sure. Why?"
"I'll get dressed, and join you. See you in a half hour?"
Hermione's mouth dried. "What? I thought you only got home a few hours ago."
"I'm not tired. Besides, I should come say goodbye to Cerberus, shouldn't I? He grew on me after he dragged me around for so long."
"Okay," Hermione twisted a piece of hair around her finger. "I'll see you then."
Draco
With one hand tightly gripping the wheel, and the other resting on her thigh, Draco stole glances at Hermione while she scribbled ideas inside her notebook. He noticed that she was nearly to the end of it, with only twenty pages more left to use, and at the rate she was going, he didn't think it would last the trip back from Oxford.
He was still surprised how easily she'd agreed to meet Astoria. The initial shock had passed fairly quickly, it was Hermione after all—Hermione who had so easily bonded with his son while making him giggle.
The corner of his mouth lifted while he thought about her dancing with Scorpius a month earlier. She never shied away from speaking with the miniature version of himself over video chats, and she never cut his stories short.
"Why is it that my best ideas always come while I'm the passenger?" She mused under her breath, flipping the page. "Maybe I should ride the subway and see if it gives the same effect. Then again, it's so hot in summer."
He stowed the information away for later.
Draco catches the bottom of a page when she flipped to the front of the book, and there's a small box with what he can assume are character traits. Sense of humor, teasing.
When she flipped back to where she was, he spotted a curious thing. Rough around the edges, devoted, career driven.
Interesting.
As much as she tried to hide it, shock flitted across her features as his former home came into view. Designed by one of his mother's friends, and to Astoria's last wish, it was a far cry from his London flat. Hermione glared down at her clothes, a fitted pair of dark jeans, and she bit her lip.
"You look great." Draco lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles.
Hermione smiled, and stepped out of the car before he could make his way around. She kept her hands to herself, and didn't bump her hip against his like she always did.
He hated to admit it, which was why he hadn't discussed it with her, but it was for the best. A conversation with Scorpius still hadn't taken place so he could explain their relationship, and he didn't want his son to grow confused. Even though Draco suspected Astoria had already said several nasty things, and they were likely within earshot.
Astoria answered the door before he knocked, and her eyes skipped from him to Hermione. "Come inside," Astoria stepped aside, planting a fake smile on her face. "Scorpius is still in his playroom. I thought it would be good to give us the chance to talk."
"Of course," Hermione replied, smoothing her blouse while looking around the sitting room they were led into. "Your home is beautiful."
Draco wanted to groan.
"Thank you." Astoria sniffed. "Draco was so lovely to pay for it, you see, and then leave it to me as well."
It wasn't like he'd had a choice if he wanted her to just sign the fucking papers his solicitors drew up.
Hermione smiled, a subtly vicious curve of her lips. "Yes, I know. It's such a shame that you won't get another out of him, isn't it?"
Astoria's eyes narrowed. "Draco, you should let Scorpius know that you're here while Hermione and I have the chance to chat."
As he shook his head, Hermione agreed with his ex-wife. "We're both adults, Draco. I don't need you to act as a mediator for me. Go see your son." With that, she took the seat across from Astoria, crossing one leg over the other.
He made sure the woman across from her saw how he ran his fingers along Hermione's neck, and the shiver that followed.
Hermione
As she was left alone with Astoria, she prepared for the worst. It had been childish to immediately insult her, and the excuse that she hadn't been able to control herself wasn't a good one.
Tucking blonde hair behind her ears, Astoria clasped her hands together on her lap. "Is it alright if I call you 'Hermione'?"
"As long as you don't mind me calling you 'Astoria'." Hermione replied.
Her nails were freshly done, a long manicure that bordered the line between practical, and classy. "I have several questions, mostly about Scorpius, but I..." Astoria glanced across the room, her eyes falling on the doorway as she cleared her throat. "I have a question about Draco."
The sudden quietness of her tone unnerved Hermione. "I can't promise that I'll answer any of those."
"Were the two of you together before we—before we divorced?" Astoria's voice had broken in the middle, and she lifted a hand to wipe her eyes.
You've got to be joking. She can't be serious. Hermione's jaw clenched. "No, we weren't. I can't see Draco ever being unfaithful to anyone."
Astoria bristled. "Don't try to talk about events you don't understand."
Hermione sighed. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. "I don't want to discuss them with you. There are two sides to every story, and while I don't think yours is different from the one he's told me, I've already picked my side. If you want to know, Draco and I met in February, and we've recently started dating since his birthday. Now, I want to tell you about our relationship as much as you want to hear about it."
Astoria glared at her. "You're right. I don't want to hear about it, but it's irritating to be traded in for a younger model."
Her mouth fell open. Shaking her head, Hermione said, "I think we should lay some ground rules. I don't want to insult you, but you make it quite easy for me. I don't want you to insult me either, but Draco didn't trade you in. You had an affair, and he divorced you. You seem to think that you'll always have a claim on him. You haven't for some time."
"And you do?" She hissed.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't want to sound like he's something I own, but yes, he's currently mine. I don't hate you. The reason I came here because you don't feel comfortable with me being around your son. If that's not what we're going to discuss, I'll let myself out."
Astoria stood, still glaring at her before tilting her head. "Fine. Come with me then." She led Hermione into the kitchen where she thrust a list into Hermione's hands. "I'm not sure how much—or for how long—you'll be around, but I'll cover everything. I've written it down since it's a lot to take in."
It was a list of likes, dislikes, and allergies. "Um," Hermione began. "You realise that I'm not going—"
"To be his mother?" Astoria snapped. "Yes, I'm aware, but if you make dinner, and mistakenly send my son to the emergency room because I didn't tell you he's allergic to shellfish, I will blame myself. Now, Scorpius' allergy to shellfish is his worst allergy. He's also allergic to certain types of medicine, which is why there's a list of over the counter medications he can take. Since he's been born, he has a weak immune system."
She hadn't known what this visit had implied. Hermione expected to be questioned about how much she'd been around children before, but Astoria left no stone unturned. "I understand. I'm certain Draco would always be the one to take care of him if he's sick, but thank you for this."
Her nod was clipped. "He likes pancakes in the morning. Don't let him tell you he can eat more than two, he absolutely cannot. He loves onions, and Draco hates them. We told Scorpius that Draco likes them because if we didn't, he would insist on not eating them because he wants to be like his father. Don't let that slip because I happen to like them."
Hermione laughed, and she was surprised to see a genuine smile curve Astoria's lips. "I won't."
"He has a favourite bedtime story, and it will be in his bag. He'll ask for the green one, but pick the red one. Just in case you're the one who—" Astoria's eyes began to water.
She panicked. Hermione didn't move any closer, but her eyes widened. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?"
Astoria leaned against the counter, wiping her eyes. "Scorpius loves you. I don't know what it is, but he has talked about you all this week since he's getting to watch movies with you. Yes," she added when Hermione looked surprised. "Draco told me."
While she couldn't relate to how Astoria felt, she understood to an extent. "I'm just his father's friend. He likes me because he doesn't see me very often, and the times he has were rather large events. First in a hospital and then again at Draco's birthday. You're his mother. If it makes you upset that he likes me—"
"You'll what? Are you going to make him not like you?"
"Of course not! I just mean… I don't want to be in the middle of anything. I never have, and since it affects you this much, I wouldn't—"
Astoria shook her head. "No, he's excited. Please don't take that from him, even if I don't particularly like you." Had the world turned on its head? This woman was constantly back and forth. "I would appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to him."
"Draco would understand." Hermione said softly. "Of course, I won't tell him. I know my place in all of this, Astoria. I have no desire to pretend to be Scorpius' mum."
"Maybe not right now," she shot back scathingly.
Hermione couldn't reply as footsteps sounded from down the corridor, and she'd barely turned when Scorpius attached himself to her leg. "Hey," she laughed, running her fingers through his hair before she could stop herself. "Have you gotten bigger since the last time I saw you?"
He beamed up at her, and she caught Draco grinning as he leaned against the door trim, his arms folded over his chest. "No," Scorpius drawled, sounding so much like his father. "You're just really short."
"He isn't wrong." Draco chuckled.
She'd barely looked up when Astoria passed her, but Hermione's stomach twisted violently when Astoria laid a hand on his forearm. Astoria asked, "Do you mind if we speak privately before you leave?"
With Scorpius still staring up at Hermione, Draco shoved Astoria's hands away. "I think not." He muttered. "Everything is in his bag then?"
Hermione took the little boy's hand, retreating from the kitchen. "Can you share me where your bag is?"
He bobbed his head. "By the door!"
She snatched it up and led him to the car. Glancing down at his small hand clasped in hers, she cleared her throat. "You don't have to hold my hand if you don't want to."
Scorpius grinned. "No, I want to!" He let her buckle him into his car seat, and he reached up to touch her hair. "It's soft. It doesn't look like it."
She snorted. "There you go. Now we just have to wait for your dad." Gravel crunched below her feet.
"'Mione?"
"What is it?"
"Will you sit beside me?"
Her heart melted when she stared up at her, holding the sleeve of her shirt tightly. "Sure."
It gave Draco a good laugh when he returned to find Hermione seated in the back with his son. "What are you two doing?"
Scorpius shushed him. "'Mione can say the alphabet backwards!"
"O...N...M...L…" She lost her place when Draco laughed, breaking her concentration. "You ruined it." Hermione accused.
Her pint sized friend chimed in agreement while they pulled out of the driveway. "'Mione is sitting with me because she's my best friend." Scorpius boasted.
Draco looked at them in the rearview mirror. "Yeah?"
"Yeah!"
Hermione played games with Scorpius while they rode back to London. "This is the one my mum and dad played with me on car rides. You have to spell out the alphabet using signs. Or license plates."
He said that made sense, and she complimented him on well he knew the alphabet. Scorpius leveled a look at her. "Miss McGonagall beat it into us."
Draco snorted. "She did not beat it into you."
"That's what Lucy says, and she's a know it all."
That sounded familiar, and Draco's eyes met hers in the mirror. "Let's play then." They finished the first game quickly, even with a delay in finding a Q. Scorpius insisted on playing another game, and fell asleep halfway through.
"Car rides make him sleepy." Draco whispered. "He always says he'll stay awake the entire time, but he lasted quite a bit longer this time."
She heard the implication and a gentle smile spread across her face. "He's cute."
"Would you like to sit up here now?"
Hermione nodded, crawling over the center console as quietly as she could so Scorpius wouldn't wake. "Not much longer, is it?" She reached over, taking his free hand in hers. "I know you want to ask."
He looked over her shoulder first. "Did she insult you?"
She sighed, fidgeting with the ring on his middle finger. It appeared to be a family ring. "It was mutual. It's fine."
"No," Draco said. "It's not. She may not like you, but she needs to respect you all of the same." His finger slid across her knuckles.
"Well," Hermione muttered. "I'm not sure that's fair since I was rather disrespectful myself. It wasn't my place to dredge things up, and start an argument, which don't tell me I didn't. It's exactly what I did."
He exhaled. "Yes, it was a bad idea. Is that what you want to hear?"
"I want you to be honest, and not spare my feelings just because it's me." Hermione muttered. "I've made the decision to be better. No matter why your marriage ended, I don't want to be the kind of woman who hates your ex. She's a part of your life for the rest of your life." She turned to the window, laying her head back.
It irritated her more than anything how petty she'd acted, how quickly she lashed out at a woman she hadn't fully met.
Even if she didn't like her, that was certainly no excuse when she was a grown woman.
Draco pulled into the parking lot, bringing his finger to his lips. "Will you sit in the car with him? He's going to pick the same movie as always, so I'd rather not wake him."
She nodded.
"Why are you sitting in the front seat?" Scorpius' voice was groggy and she turned to see him rubbing his eyes. "I fell asleep again! Bollocks."
"Scorpius!" Draco admonished. "Where did you hear that?"
He bit his little lip, shaking his head. "No where."
Draco's expression revealed he didn't believe Scorpius even a little bit. "Hermione decided to sit next to me after you fell asleep. You have to share, you know."
Scorpius crossed his arms, kicking his legs up. "But she's my friend."
Hermione sniggered into her hand, sinking into her seat.
The man beside her smirked, and squeezed her knee with a wink. "Yes, but she was my friend first, and I'm older, so there."
"That's not fair! You're ancient, Dad!"
Hermione burst into laughter.
"Thirty-five is hardly old," Draco growled playfully.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Thirty-six. You had a birthday last month, or did you forget in your old age?" She bit her lip as he looked like he wanted to throttle or snog her, and he couldn't decide. "You have to be nice to your dad. His memory gets worse the older he gets."
His eyes widened comically. "I'm not old." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.
She leaned forward, stretching up to whisper quietly beside his ear. "I like older men. It's alright."
Draco still glared at her as he left them in the car, but she knew he was barely holding his glare in place.
Scorpius could eat his weight, which was very little but still, in popcorn. He sat between her and Draco, having wedged himself there while animated dragons raced the other in the movie. "This is the best part!" He yelled, popcorn falling from his mouth. "Did you see that?" Scorpius looked up at Hermione.
She grinned, and it was only partially because Draco had been massaging her shoulder for several minutes by that point. "I did!" She gushed, tickling his sides. "Best part yet, I agree."
Draco snuck a glance over Scorpius' head, his thumb skimming the column of her neck.
"Dad?" Scorpius held the bucket of popcorn in his lap, which had been saved from a previous trip to the cinema from what he told her. "Can 'Mione stay the night? I want to have breakfast together."
She choked on her saliva, and it didn't go unnoticed.
Luckily, Draco recovered from the question much quicker than she would have. "No, Scorp, I don't think so. But we can still eat breakfast together if you like. You're about to faceplant in your bucket though."
"Am not." Scorpius retorted. I'm wide awake. I could stay up all night."
"Bet you can't," Draco tapped his nose. "Let's finish the movie, and then I'll put you to bed."
He muttered he could totally stay up for the entire night. As the next twenty minutes passed, Scorpius slumped and let out a small snore while he slept on her arm.
"God forbid he's ever able to stay up the entire night." Draco chuckled. "Give me ten minutes?" He scooped Scorpius up, and made his way from the living room to the bedroom.
Hermione crossed her legs for a moment before thinking better of it. She quickly gathered the trash that littered the coffee table, and managed to carry the dishes from dinner into the kitchen. She loaded the dishwasher, and hand washed the popcorn bucket before storing it in the cupboard Scorpius had pulled it from.
She righted the cushions on the sofa before resuming her seat.
Draco looked at the table and back to her once he re-appeared. "You cleaned?"
"You were putting him to bed, and I didn't want you to have to stay up to do it." Hermione laid her arm on the back of the sofa, and her cheek rested against her palm. "Did he wake up?"
He snorted. "Absolutely not. He sleeps like the dead, which is a blessing because for the first two years he didn't sleep through a single night."
It sounded terrible.
Draco reached over, pulling her jumper up from where it had fallen. "I wanted to tell you, I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night, not that I expect anything. I just don't want to confuse him and I haven't explained this to him yet." He waved his hand between them.
In hindsight, Hermione didn't know why she was surprised. "You're going to tell him we're dating?"
He nodded. "Of course. Funnily enough, he asked me about dating months ago, and I promised him I would always be honest. I also wanted him to like whoever I chose," Draco pulled her into his lap, smirking as she squeaked. "Scorpius adores you, so I'm not expecting it to be a hard conversation."
"I just assumed you would keep telling him that I was your friend is all." Hermione said. "I didn't expect you to tell him that I was your girlfriend." She straddled his waist, and chewed her lower lip.
Draco leaned up, capturing his lips while holding her hips. "Fuck, I've been dying to do that all day." He murmured, nipping her lower lip.
She looped her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him while toying with the hair above the nape of his neck. Hermione's lips parted, and she gasped when his hands down her thighs, his hands heavy through the thin joggers she'd changed into earlier in the night. "Draco," she whispered.
"I know." He rasped.
Hermione rolled her hips against him, hoping he would take the hint. Her hands slipped under his shirt, her fingers splaying across his abdomen.
When his fingers reached the apex of her thighs, the thin material separating them, Hermione whimpered weakly. Draco groaned her name, and heat coiled in her belly. He shifted, his hand sliding lower, and she didn't want to stop, but—
She pulled away from him, delighted by the way his cheeks were flushed. "I want to do this," Hermione whispered, rolling her hips once more to get her point across. "But I don't want to do this when Scorpius could technically walk out at any second."
His head fell back to the sofa. "I understand."
She pecked his lips. "I wouldn't be against repeating this after the weekend thought."
"Thank fuck for that."
She laughed, standing from his lap. "I probably should get home then. What time do you want me to come over for breakfast?"
Draco handed her the handbag that rested on the hook beside the door while she slipped her trainers on. "He won't wake up before nine if that works for you?"
"Yes, I'll be over—"
He pinned her to the door with his body, tilting her chin up and kissed her until she was breathless. Draco's hand slid between them, and his fingertips barely pressed against her through her clothes, but it was almost enough to ask him if he thought they could get away with sneaking into his bedroom.
She must have said it out loud.
"No," He answered what was meant to be an unspoken question. "We could get away with it, but then I wouldn't get to make you moan properly loud, and I would feel robbed of that." Draco grinned. "Thank you for coming over."
She wanted to drag him back to her, even though he'd barely taken a step away from her. "I'm glad I did. I had a wonderful time."
He still hadn't let her go. "Breakfast at nine?"
Hermione nodded.
He kissed her again, tangling his fingers in her hair.
"You have to stop, or I'll never be able to leave." Hermione's words were ragged as her nails bit into his biceps. "You're trying to convince me not to leave, aren't you?"
"I'm selfish." His words are muffled against her throat, and she's certain she won't be able to walk away. "I don't care what I just said."
Hermione laughed, and tugged his head up lightly by his hair. "After this weekend." She promised, slowly kissing him one last time before reaching for the doorknob. "I'll see you in the morning."
Draco looked dazed, his eyes glassy, and his lips swollen. "I'll look forward to it. I would walk you to your car, but…"
She shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. This complex is nicer than mine." Hermione told him. "I'll let you know when I get home if you like?"
His lips brushed hers as she opened the door. "I'd like that."
Hermione stepped onto the landing outside his flat. "In the morning." She said quietly.
Draco lunged, twisting them to where her back was against the wall of the complex, and kissed her frantically again.
She didn't bother to count in the moment , but she knew the number of times one of them had reached for the other—she was equally as guilty—before she made it down the steps was quite high.
So….after the weekend, yeah? Let me know what you think if you don't mind! I live for your reviews.