Chapter Forty-Six
Draco stood at one of the windows that lined the Manor's front hallway, watching Hermione and her friends make their way down the long stone walkway toward the apparition points. His body still felt warm from dancing and he snapped his fingers in the direction of one of the house elves, gesturing for the creature to bring him a drink. The last hour of the party had been very enjoyable; he'd danced with Hermione several times, and even allowed Phil and Miguel to cut in once each, graciously taking a turn around the room with both Ginny and Sylvia in the interim, and rather enjoying the way Ginny's brother's face seemed a darker shade of purple each time he whirled his sister past.
Potter had been stiff at first, but relaxed over the evening, perhaps recognizing that Hermione was enjoying herself with Draco, and that he considered a win. Potter had been polite enough this year, for the most part, but Draco hadn't really thought they could be mates, now, with Hermione by his side, perhaps they could be. He thought back to his first few interactions with Harry in their first year, back when, against all odds, he had offered friendship and had it spurned. Now he surprised himself with genuine feelings of camaraderie for Harry, after all, they'd both fought enough battles to be standing here, why not finally be friends?
"Finally alone, Malfoy?" came a deep voice in his ear, and Draco spun, the slight smile that had been on his lips as he sipped his punch fading to a scowl as he turned to find Anderson looming behind him. The other boy smirked, apparently pleased to have startled Draco, and Draco felt his annoyance rise.
"Still here, Anderson?" he inquired with a raise of his brow. "I thought you and Parkinson were permanently entwined beneath the mistletoe."
Anderson's smirk grew. "What can I say? Parkinson has clearly set her sights higher this year." He looked down his nose at Draco, clearly smug about having stolen Pansy's affections from him, and Draco resisted rolling his eyes.
"Pansy can be fickle," Draco replied cooly, lifting his crystal glass to take another swallow and carefully schooling his features into neutrality behind the shield of the goblet. "I wouldn't bet on her affection holding when you're back at school." Anderson scowled at this and Draco suppressed a smirk.
"She's clearly over you," Anderson growled, eyes flashing, and Draco allowed a small shrug, as if to say "For now," just to see the rage that boiled up behind Anderson's eyes.
"As you say," he acknowledged aloud, then waited; Anderson clearly had something to say to him otherwise he wouldn't have sought Draco out. It took several long seconds for the other boy to pull himself together and Draco felt privately smug over this. Despite his larger body and brutish nature, it wasn't so easy to command the respect Anderson so clearly desired, and Draco knew the fact that he was waiting him out instead of demanding to know what he wanted was driving Anderson mad.
"Look, Malfoy," Anderson said at last, his voice laced with annoyance from Draco's lack of deference, "there will be a meeting at midnight the the third night back after the holidays. I trust that will be enough time for you and Parkinson to complete your task?" He made this announcement with a pompous air, glaring at Draco as if daring him to complain he needed more time.
"Since our task," Draco drawled, adding an undercurrent of disgust to his words, "is just to take out a library book, then yes, that will be plenty of time." He held his hand out to one side without breaking eye contact with Anderson, waiting for a house elf to take his goblet away, then continued. "Will this meeting provide actual information this time? Because if not, then I don't see why I should waste my time risking Filch and detention instead of sleeping." He crossed his arms and stared Anderson down.
Anderson's face creased with annoyance. He obviously wanted to be the one lording it over Draco and was severely perturbed that Draco wasn't cowed by his presence. "Once you and Parkinson provide the book the real work can begin, until then, keep quiet about things you know nothing about, Malfoy."
Draco felt his thin smile become fixed, and worked to remain casual. "As you wish," he murmured with a faint bow in Anderson's direction. He'd meant the move in mockery, but Anderson appeared mollified by the action.
"You seemed awfully chummy with those Gryffindors tonight," he said after a moment of silence, "something you want to tell me?"
Draco loosed a look of supreme distain on Anderson, and enjoyed the way his expression faltered before he managed to pull a sneer back into place. "It was my party, Anderson, I was being a good host. And no," he spoke on, seeing Anderson start to open his mouth, "I don't care what your feelings on the matter are. The night is over; Parkinson and I will see you at school." With that, Draco turned on on his heel and began to stride away, hoping fervently that Anderson would take the hint, grab his mates, and get the hell out of his house. He was sick of dealing with the lot of them.
"Play all the games you want, Malfoy," Anderson called after him, thankfully not following Draco further into the house, "but remember which side of the line you want to be on when things matter. No one cares if you mess about with some bird on a lark, but giving up your place in the right society for a skirt isn't something I think you'll be able to live with in the end."
Draco fought the stiffening of his shoulders, anger and a hint of shame waring within him. "Despite the sweet nothings Parkinson has apparently been whispering into your ear, Anderson, I'll handle my own life choices; thanks."
It took everything in him not to turn back and shout at Anderson that he was plenty happy with his choice in Hermione, and he didn't care what any of the Slytherins or pureblood society thought of him, but now wasn't the time. Things were too new, too fragile, and he didn't want to risk putting Hermione in the line of fire by announcing their change in relationship to the wrong people. Struggling to temper the swirling emotions within him, Draco signalled the first house elf he saw when he rounded the corner at the end of the hallway and was out of Anderson's sight. Punch was not going to cut it this time.
"Firewisky, neat. And make it a double." He threw back the full tumbler and slammed it down on a mahogany side table, glaring out a window into the glittering night. As much as he hated having to do so, he'd have to play up his old life when he returned to school. It wouldn't do for Anderson and the rest of his minions to suspect overmuch that Draco was changing his ways, until he was able to discover their plans that is. Hermione wouldn't like it, but he'd have to make her see reason. He would protect her if it was the last thing he did.
xXx
Hermione leaned into Ginny's shoulder, their arms linked as they walked, and sighed contentedly. It was nearing 12:30 AM and exhaustion was starting to weigh heavy on Hermione. She was looking forward to twisting into the darkness at the edge of the Malfoy's land and coming out at the property line of the Weasley's. Thank god for travel by magic, if she'd had to spend two hours on the underground to get home right now she felt certain she'd fall asleep on the spot.
"Have a good night?" Ginny asked, turning to glance at Hermione as the pair stumbled down the frozen walkway. Hermione's curls blocked her vision as the other girl dropped her head onto Ginny's shoulder with a sigh of fatigue.
Hermione lifted her head and blinked blearily over at Ginny, her lips lifting in a soft smile. "It was magical," she murmured.
Ginny leaned into Hermione's side, huddling close for warmth as the girls reached the end of the path, coming up behind Harry, Ron, Violet, and cluster of other Hogwarts students. Under cover of a series of loud cracks from apparating friends, Ginny moved a little ways away from Hermione to try and catch her eye. "You were gone a long time ealier," she stated in a leading manner, squinting at Hermione through the haze of gently falling snow. "We were worried."
Hermione pulled away, feeling her face start to heat despite the cold of the night air. "I'm sorry about that, really." She pulled her cloak tighter around her body as a pretence to look away from Ginny's knowing look. "I just needed to…figure some things out."
"And did you?" Ginny asked, gaze sharp and unblinking.
There was another set of loud cracks behind Ginny, and Hermione watched as Harry glanced their way with a questioning look before twisting into nothingness on his way to the Burrow. Ron and Violet were entwined in a rather passionate embrace, breaking apart with a slight squelch and a pair of longing looks before they also stepped back and raised their wands to apparate to their own homes. Finding herself alone with Ginny, Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "I did," she said, pulling out her wand and twisting into the darkness of the night, leaving Ginny's protestations that "That's not any sort of an answer!" to blow away in the wind.
#
Upon landing at the Burrow Hermione hurried toward the brightly lit house, warmth spilling from the many randomly set windows as candles flickered on their sills. It was moments later that she heard the sound of Ginny's feet hitting the frozen ground of the garden and Hermione ran into the house, giggling in a slightly manic way, her whole body giddy from the last few hours of the party. Inside the kitchen Mrs. Weasley was ladling hot chocolate into mugs from a cauldron resting on the remains of a dying fire, Harry and Ron were already slumped in overstuffed mismatched armchairs, their dress clothes loosened in various places, cups of Chocolate in their hands. She waved to Ron's mother, glad to see her familiar warm smile hadn't changed, even though Hermione was no longer dating her son.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione! Have a nice time, dear…?" Mrs. Weasley asked, trailing off slightly and raising an eyebrow at Hermione's uncommonly giggly response.
"I did, thank-you," Hermione replied, hurrying toward the stairs without slowing down. "I'd like to take my hair down though. These pins are digging into my scalp." She was up three steps before the door banged open and Ginny's voice echoed across the kitchen behind her.
"This is a small house, Hermione Granger! Don't think you can hide from me!"
"Ginevra!" Mrs. Weasley admonished, looking startled as she glanced between her daughter and the sound of Hermione clattering up the stairs. "What's the matter? Did you two have an argument?"
"Oh, nothing like that, mum," Ginny called breezily, racing past the boys and her mother and stopping at the bottom of the stairs to glare after Hermione—already on the second landing. "It's just that Hermione and I have things to discuss and she thinks a locked bathroom door is going to stop me. IT'S NOT!" She hollered the last two words up the stairwell where they clashed with the slamming of the bathroom door.
#
Hermione leaned against the door to the Weasley's tiny bathroom, panting slightly, then quickly pulled out her wand and performed an extra strong locking charm on the door, just in case Ginny did actually try to Alohamora her way inside. Crossing to the toilet she closed the lid and sat down, grinning a little at her silliness. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk things through with Ginny, it was that she wanted to hold the specialness of the evening in her heart for her own private enjoyment just a little bit longer. That, and her hair pins really were starting to hurt her head. With a flick of her wand the pins floated out of her hair, sending her curls spiralling down around her shoulders. Hermione gave her head a sharp shake, feeling a little like a dog, settling her hair back into its usual place, then walked over to the sink and splashed a little water on her face. The evening had been a whirlwind in many respects, but it had ended on a very good note, and she was feeling happier than she had in a long time.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and crept cautiously out onto the landing, looking both ways as she entered the hallway, half-expecting Ginny to be waiting to ambush her. When she found herself alone, she slumped a little, somewhat disappointed. At a creak of bedsprings overhead, Hermione figured Ginny had decided to wait in her bedroom, knowing Hermione would have to come up eventually to go to sleep. Gathering her shimmering skirts in her hands, Hermione made her way up the narrow twisting stairs to Ginny's bedroom, pushing open the door with firm resolution.
She nearly banged straight into Ginny and Harry, half-lying on the bed, wrapped around each other as if they'd been parted by a war for the past five years.
"Oh, Merlin preserve me!" Hermione squawked, throwing a hand up to shield her eyes. "Get a roo—" she broke off, coughing out a laugh as she realized what she'd been about to say, then pressing on. "You two just saw each other ten minutes ago!"
Ginny pulled back, her arms still wrapped around Harry's neck. She turned a cool glance on Hermione, unruffled. "Well, how was I to know how long you were going to be? You ran away and locked yourself in the bathroom in the middle of our conversation. I had to do something to pass the time."
"Hey!" Harry protested, sitting up. "I'm offended that you consider me merely a token for your amusement—"
"Hush now," Ginny replied, pulling him back down and kissing him soundly enough to make Hermione blush. She cleared her throat and the pair parted again, both sitting up this time. Harry looked a little dazed, though much happier. He blinked at Hermione and grinned a little stupidly.
"You seem in a better mood than earlier tonight," he offered, pushing a hand awkwardly though his thick black hair and straightening his glasses. Hermione bit her lip, trying to hold in the wide smile fighting to get free.
"I have to admit that the night wasn't a total loss," she returned, feeling her cheeks heat as memories washed over her. It hadn't been more than two hours since Draco had pressed her against the wall in his bedroom and…
"Er, you ok?" Harry's voice cut through the fog of her recollections and Hermione flinched slightly, blushing harder.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat hastily, breaking eye contact and looking anywhere but at Harry's curiously confused expression. "I'm fine, just, um, a bit tired."
Out of Hermione's line of vision Ginny's eyes flashed in understanding. She reached over blindly to swat at her boyfriend's arm. "Harry?"
Harry glanced over at her, frowning in confusion. "Yeah?"
"Get out," Ginny replied, sweet and succinct, swatting at Harry's arm again until he slid off the bed and started hesitantly for the door.
"Er, is everything ok?"
"Out, Potter!" Ginny repeated, raising her voice in a manner that only someone who has been raised by Molly Weasley could command, and Harry Potter 'got gone' from her bedroom, hands raised in surrender as he went.
"Okay spill," Ginny demanded, flicking her wand at her door and muttering "Colloportus," charming the lock closed as Hermione walked toward her.
"He…" Hermione began slowly, trying to sort through her complicated feelings. "He kissed me." She dropped onto Ginny's bed and stared at her friend with stark and open helplessness.
Ginny gave her a rueful smile. "Uh, we all kind of saw that, Hermione." Her smile grew a little more cat-like, matching the mask that now lay on the night table next to her bed. "How was it?"
Hermione swallowed and shook her head. "No, you didn't. Not really. In the ballroom he only, well, he only… sort of grazed my cheek." She glanced up at Ginny to gage her reaction.
"I have to say I didn't expect that," Ginny mused, frowning slightly. "Malfoy never seemed like the sort of guy to do things like that by halves." She shrugged then. "Well, a cheek kiss is still technically a kiss under the mistletoe, I guess…"
Hermione covered her face with her hands. "I didn't think he'd skip out on it either," she mumbled into her fingers. "But then again, I figured he was only trying to get around things because he didn't feel the same way about me that I do about him. And Blaise was there and I thought Draco was only trying to pacify him for some stupid reason so things wouldn't get out of hand… but then he whispered into my ear and I thought I'd misunderstood—but he ran out of the room and just left me standing there, Ginny!" Hermione tried to swallow back the tirade of words but couldn't hold them back. The happiness she'd been been wrapped in dimmed slightly as she thought through the events that had led up to the confrontation in Draco's bedroom. "I was so embarrassed! I just couldn't stay there with everyone— With Blaise— I had to get out of there!"
Ginny's eyebrows drew together slightly and she frowned at Hermione. "He whispered in your ear?" she asked slowly. "What did he say?"
Hermione peeked through her fingers into her friend's intensely curious gaze. "He—"
But before she could decided whether or not to confide Draco's toe-curling words to Ginny, the other girl's brain seemed to finally click on something, and she cut Hermione off with a gasp. "Wait a second. In the ballroom? As in, he only kissed your cheek in the ballroom? Then your opening statement that he kissed you—really kissed you—happened somewhere else?" she demanded, pouncing on Hermione's words and grabbing at her wrists to pry Hermione's hands away from her face. "Did something happen after you left the ballroom? Because let me tell you, something happened after you left the ballroom."
Hermione dropped her hands and blinked at Ginny in confusion. "What?"
Ginny smirked. "What I mean is, after Zabini and Malfoy almost got into it—and Malfoy ran off, and then you took off, and Zabini was laughing it up because he thought he'd made the two of you split up or at least have some sort of row, and he was spouting the story for anyone to hear about how Malfoy couldn't stomach snogging a mud—" Ginny broke off, biting back the vile slur before continuing, "—that is, it made him sick to do it. Anyway, Parkinson and her ilk were all simpering and giggling as if he were the wittiest thing ever, and suddenly Melville—that blonde girl who's always hanging around Malfoy—well she just stepped up to Zabini, got right in his face—even though she's like a head shorter than him—and slapped him! I swear, Hermione, you could hear that crack across the entire ballroom!"
Hermione blinked at Ginny. Sylvia had slapped Blaise?
"She did?"
Ginny was grinning now, as if her respect for the girl had grown enormously with that single action. "Yes!" she crowed happily. "It was glorious! I don't know what he said to her—because they were standing so close and started hissing at each other about something or other—but suddenly she hauled off and slapped him! He couldn't have looked more surprised if my own mother had smacked him."
"What happened next?"
Ginny sobered a little. "It was a little dicy, actually," she said, somewhat less zealously. "After he got over the shock, well, I think he might have hit her back—Zabini doesn't really seem to be the sort of guy who is deterred by the whole 'girl' thing," —Hermione knew that only too well— "but suddenly Munoz and Harry were between them and I really thought wands might be drawn!" She paused to take a breath before plunging on. "It was really intense for a minute, but then Mrs. Malfoy showed up and chewed out everyone for causing a scene—she was talking with Mrs. Zabini and must have caught wind of the sudden tension, adults really aren't as obtuse as we all might think. Anyway, the next thing we all knew Zabini had backed off and slunk back across the room to regroup with his Slytherin mates. The look he gave Melville as he went though…" Ginny shivered slightly and Hermione knew the feeling, having suffered several of the same sort of intensely scary looks from Blaise herself. Ginny shook her head slightly, her gaze distant as she relived the scene in her head. "I swear to Merlin, the only reason he backed down was because he was still trying to appear innocent to his mother." Ginny sat back on her bed breathing hard from the intensity of her story and the residual anger that came with it.
Hermione had been wondering what had happened after she'd taken the coward's way out that night, and she was a little sorry she'd missed the showdown between Blaise and his Ex. At least Sylvia had had the courage to do what Hermione had not.
"Oh," Hermione managed to say, a little bowled over by the rapid-fire tale. "Well, good for Sylvia."
Ginny recovered herself. "I'll say," she agreed. "I guess there are more decent people in Slytherin than I thought." She sat in silence for about five seconds, simmering in this revelation, before her gaze suddenly sharpened and shot back to Hermione's face. "Now back to more important things: you said Malfoy kissed you." Hermione felt herself lean back from her best friend's sudden laser look. "But not under the mistletoe where we all thought he did?" Ginny trailed off into silence for the space of two heartbeats before the synapse fired in her brain. She pounced on Hermione, grabbing her hands and leaning in close. "Tell me everything!"
Hermione felt herself sputter a weak laugh at the blazing curiosity in Ginny's eyes, nervously pulling her hands free and drawing one of Ginny's pillows toward her so that she could hug it to her chest, ducking her face toward it to try and hide her blush.
"I left the ballroom," she began slowly—Ginny nudged her side with one of her feet as she curled up against her headboard with another pillow in her own lap, "I know that part! Get to the good stuff!"—and bit her lip, feeling a smile tug at her lips as she thought back to the way it had felt be in Draco's arms. "I got a little lost; the Malfoy's house is huge and I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going—I just wanted to find a place to be alone after that whole forced scene under the mistletoe."
Ginny was quiet, calming herself so that Hermione could tell the story at her own pace. Hermione glanced up to find her friend's eyes dancing with mischief and curiosity and pressed on before embarrassment at the way things had begun could overwhelm her.
"I found myself in an unused room on the second floor, that is, I thought it was unused," She lifted her head to glance at Ginny and waited for her to make the connection. It didn't take long.
"You ran into Malfoy?" she guessed. "I wondered where he disappeared to when he went after you. He seemed in a bit of a tizzy." Hermione frowned and Ginny waved her on with a quick: "He came back into the ballroom only a few minutes after you ran out, had words with Zabini, punched him a few times, and then ran back out once he realized you weren't with Harry and me—now get to the good part!"
Hermione stared at Ginny. "Draco hit Zabini?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Like that prat didn't deserve it and more," she muttered, then added a quick explanation when she saw that Hermione wasn't satisfied with her response. "He was upset that Zabini hadn't left the party after the whole mistletoe thing," she went on, "and after Zabini got smart with him over how things played out Malfoy hulled off and socked him in the gut! Then he pulled out his wand and it really looked like he was going to curse him right there in the middle of the party… but something held him back."
She glanced at Hermione as if suggesting it must have been Hermione's influence that had prevented an all-out duel in the middle of the dancing. Maybe it had? Hermione determined to ask Draco about it when she saw him next.
"What did he do then?" she asked a little breathlessly. Ginny smirked, lightening the mood.
"Ordered his house elf to apparate Zabini off the grounds," she said simply, then grinned devilishly. "Apparently he was connected to his mother with some crazy Charm and when he was magicked off the property she nearly somersaulted across the ballroom with the pull of their bond!" Ginny laughed and Hermione felt her own lips tilt upward as she imagined the scene. "It really was the highlight of my evening," Ginny finished primly, then paused, glared suspiciously at Hermione, and added sternly, "now stop putting off the rest of your story, Hermione Granger. Clearly the highlight of your evening wasn't in the ballroom, so spit it out!"
The fierce look Ginny was giving her almost made Hermione laugh. It was clear that she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night until she divulged every single detail of her night—or most of the details anyway. However, for a girl who usually had no problem speaking her mind, Hermione found herself at a loss for words. She fiddled with the pillow in her lap and bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat as memories washed over her. Ginny's sharp eyes missed nothing and she was quick to comment.
"If your face was any pinker, Hermione, I could call you Arnold," she said slyly, indicating her fuzzy pygmy puff currently purring on the window sill. "What happened between you and Malfoy?"
Hermione let loose a nervous giggle and glanced over at her friend. "Well, that room I thought was just a guest room? It turned out to be Draco's bedroom…"
Ginny let out a choked sort of sound and glanced at the door as if expecting Ron to come bursting through it with his wand raised. Then she laughed under her breath and smirked at Hermione. "Hermione Granger, you sly vixen!"
"I didn't plan it!" Hermione protested at once, and Ginny cackled.
"I'm sure Malfoy was in for the shock of his life when he found you in there," she suggested with a shrewd look. Hermione closed her eyes and groaned with embarrassment.
"Merlin, Ginny," she moaned, "you don't know the half of it! I was kind of curled up on his bed when he—"
Ginny gasped with anticipatory glee. "You weren't!"
"I was…" Hermione continued with a desperate moan. "I almost died, Ginny. I really didn't think the room belonged to anyone in particular. There weren't any personal items around that might have given me any sort of hint! I tried to leave but—"
"But Malfoy swept you off your feet with a passionate snog?"
"Not exactly," Hermione cut in, ducking her head at Ginny's knowing look. "Let's just say that after the things that happened earlier in the night, I wasn't really expecting any sort of heart to heart."
There was a pause and then Ginny's eyes narrowed at her. "This conversation we're having is going to end with a passionate snog, right?" she demanded.
Hermione smirked slightly. "Only if you buy me a drink first." Ginny threw a pillow at her and Hermione ducked, laughing.
"Fine," Ginny huffed, sending Hermione a mock glare. "Malfoy came in and was scandalized to find you sprawled across his bed. He insisted that you must be wed at once to save both your virtues from the gossiping villagers… and then you snogged?"
Hermione threw a pillow back at Ginny and then grabbed any others within reach and threw them safely out of reach of her friend's retaliatory hands. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"You know I have a wand, right?"
Hermione raised a delicate eyebrow. "You'll keep it holstered if you want to hear the rest of this story, Weasley," she replied sternly. Ginny raised her hands in surrender and Hermione cleared her throat, feeling nervous again as she relived the evening's events. "He apologized for leaving me in the ballroom," she began. "Phil dragged him out; he said he'd wanted to stay, but I suppose Phil knew that if he did a fight would break out."
Ginny shot her a wry look. "He wasn't wrong, considering what happened after they got back."
Hermione frowned slightly. "I hope there won't be trouble when we get back to school next week; Blaise still has friends at Hogwarts and Draco isn't as powerful as he likes to think."
"Malfoy can take care of himself," Ginny replied drily, then added at Hermione's deepening frown, "and if he gets himself into trouble as he inevitably will, I guess we can help him out a little. If you insist." She sent Hermione a small smile and Hermione relaxed at this little comfort.
"I'm sorry to drag you into my troubles," she murmured, feeling a slight twinge of shame at the chaos her burgeoning feelings for Draco had caused her and her friends that year.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "The only trouble you're going to have from me, Granger, is if you insist on not telling me if Malfoy is a decent kisser." Hermione blushed and Ginny smirked.
"I'm getting there!" she protested, and Ginny grinned. Hermione bit her lip as she sorted through her thoughts. "Ok, so, he apologized for everything that happened downstairs, and even though I could have died from embarrassment that he'd found me in his room he told me it didn't matter to him."
"I'll bet," Ginny murmured under her breath, then mimed zipping her lips closed when Hermione shot her a look.
"He told me that he didn't kiss me in the ballroom because he… well, I guess he was trying to protect me. You know how you thought he did? He really just put on a show, I guess to try and save me from the scene Blaise was trying to cause by forcing us under the mistletoe in the first place. It was all an act, Ginny. He just kissed my cheek. And barely did so at that. But he told me—" She broke off, blushing furiously, and had to pause to get her heart back under control.
Ginny looked as if she was about to explode from forced patience at Hermione's abrupt cut off in conversation. "So help me, Hermione Granger," she finally burst out, "if you make me wait any longer…"
Hermione let out a breathy laugh and closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. "He told me that if he was ever going to kiss me he'd do it properly, and without anyone else around to watch," she said in a rush, then glanced quickly at Ginny who had gone suspiciously silent.
Ginny was staring at her, her mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. "Merlin," she breathed, sounding stunned. "And then he found you in his bedroom half an hour later…"
"I didn't plan it!" Hermione wailed again, covering her face with her hands. "I almost died when he came in. I thought it was—" she broke off, then pressed on, "well, I couldn't see who it was at first, the fireplace was the only light in the room and… anyway, I wasn't in a very romantic mood at the start."
Ginny sobered. "So he had to calm you down first," she said a bit more seriously, then smiled slightly. "Nice to know Malfoy has a sensitive side. He certainly hid it well, all these years."
Hermione smiled wryly back, then her expression softened. "He's changed so much this past year, Gin," she said quietly. "I almost don't recognize him as the person he was before the war."
Ginny reached out and squeezed her hand briefly. "I've seen it, too," she agreed, and Hermione's smile widened.
"He told me he hadn't wanted to pressure me into it," she went on quietly, and felt Ginny still across from her, "downstairs, you know? Because he wasn't sure if I, that is, if I wanted him to…"
"Malfoy's a gentleman, who knew?" Ginny teased quietly, and the girls shared an intimate look of mutual understanding.
"He waited for me to say no, to stop him if I didn't want him to do anything," Hermione said softly, "and when I didn't…" She trailed off, blushing deeply, and Ginny grabbed her hands with a suppressed squeal.
"How was it?" she demanded in a loud whisper, face eager. "The girls talk, you know, even about the Hogwarts bad boys—especially about the Hogwarts bad boys, really—and I've heard things about Draco Malfoy that would curl my mother's hair."
"I suppose some of it must be true," Hermione hedged, lifting a hand to her lips as the memory of Draco's deep kisses washed over her once more. "He wasn't exactly timid," she added, blushing even as she bit her lip to try and stop the grin threatening to escape.
Ginny screeched, clutching her pillow as she grinned sassily at Hermione. "Merry Christmas, Hermione Granger!"
Hermione laughed, feeling giddy and light, a sense of relief at having shared her special moment with someone close to her flooding through her. After a minute she pulled herself together. "He finally admitted he had feelings for me," she said softly, looking down at her hands in her lap.
Ginny was quiet for a long moment before she asked the question Hermione knew she would. "And what did you tell him?"
Hermione sobered a little. "I was thrown off at first," she admitted. "I didn't know how to respond."
Ginny nodded. "That's to be expected," she said encouragingly, "so what did you say?"
"I was speechless at first, and he thought that I didn't feel the same way," Hermione continued, "he was almost out the door by the time I managed to tell him that I liked him, too."
Ginny flopped backwards on her bed, her dress puffing up around her. "About bloody time!" she shouted, and Hermione cast a hurried glance at the door to see if anyone would come running at Ginny's exclamation. Ginny pushed up on her elbows and sent Hermione a mock glare. "You know, for someone who sounds like she's swallowed a Babbling Beverage in half the classes we share, this conversation between you and Malfoy took far too long to come about."
"Shut it," Hermione laughed. "We can't all just snog the Quidditch Captain in the middle of the common room and call it a night!"
"No," Ginny replied wickedly, "some of us have to orchestrate fancy balls and sneak into private bedrooms to snog our future boyfriends."
Hermione grabbed up her wand, and a moment later all the pillows she'd been hoarding went soaring toward the red-haired girl across from her. Ginny shrieked and covered her head as a series of thwumps echoed onto the bedcovers and nearby floorboards.
"Lights out, Ginevra!" came a magically-magnified shout from two floors below, Mrs. Weasley's voice sounding as if it were in the room with them. "We're not all teenagers, you know, and if I have to come up there…!"
"Night, mum!" Ginny shouted back, and Hermione covered her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"Sorry!" she whispered, flicking her wand at the lights to dim them. "Your mum's not mad, is she?"
"She's only upset that we're having girl talk and didn't invite her," Ginny replied with a laugh, reaching for a nightgown to change for bed.
Hermione changed quickly too, hanging her beautiful gown up in Ginny's small closet before climbing between cool sheets on the camp bed, feeling her body relax as she nestled beneath the quilt Mrs. Weasley had leant her. Ginny flicked her wand at the lights, dousing the room in darkness.
"Pleasant dreams, Hermione," she called softly, her disembodied voice drifting through the air with more than a hint of suggestiveness woven through it.
"I still have a pillow within reach," Hermione hissed back, her threat undercut by the huge yawn that swallowed the last few of her words. The sound of Ginny's quiet giggles was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.
xXx
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