Give Unto Me
Chapter 10: Living Life
Hermione cut her eyes across to Malfoy, who was still laying on his stomach, his arms around his pillow, his head turned towards her.
"You're a right git, you know that?" she demanded when she caught his grey eyes focused not on her face but on the fact that her robe had fallen open, revealing the swell of her cleavage inside her pink satin bra, in addition to a strip of taut stomach and her knickers.
"Am not," he smirked, his eyes still notably on her cleavage instead of her face. Hermione scowled and tugged the robe closed in annoyance.
"You weren't going to say anything about that, were you?" Hermione asked him, still blushing furiously.
"Nope," he grinned, his eyes returning to her face once her cleavage was hidden, "Where would be the fun in that?"
"You're a terrible person," Hermione informed him, swatting him with the pillow she pulled from beneath her.
"Not I'm not. If I was a terrible person, I'd have copped a feel while you were unconscious," he told her, snatching the pillow out of her grip.
"Did you?" Hermione demanded, horrified by the notion that she'd been unconscious and in his bed for two days, completely vulnerable to him. She squawked in surprise and outrage when he clobbered her over the head with the pillow he'd taken from her.
"No. I didn't. I don't know why you're making a big deal about it anyway. I'm going to be getting up close and personal with all of you, and I'm going to see you naked when we shag. Why are you so upset that I've seen some of your underthings?"
Hermione whacked him with her pillows again in retaliation, blushing crimson once more. She cried out in surprise when he immediately returned the favour, rolling over and whacking her with his pillow, a wicked glint coming into his eyes.
"I hate you, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione announced hitting him back in outrage and fending him off when he attacked with his pillow playfully, laughing at her and goading her on.
"Is that the best you can do Granger?" he teased, rolling out of bed and out of her reach when she started trying to beat him over the head with her pillow some more, "I see you in those fancy knickers and the most you're going to do is blush? Who knew such an innocent little Gryffindor would own silky knickers?"
He goaded her from the far side of the bed, dancing close enough to whack her before skittering away out of her reach when Hermione tried to hit him back. Her frustration mounted quickly and Hermione rolled across the bed, forgetting about dignity in favour of clobbering him with her pillow. Kreacher squawked when the tea-tray he'd brought her rattled precariously, sloshing tea over the edge of her cup and sending the bottles of pills rolling away. Malfoy whacked her again as she rolled to her feet and Hermione retaliated with solid whump across his face.
She giggled in spite of herself when he grunted in surprise and retaliated.
The pillow fight was in full swing, Hermione having gathered a second pillow from the bed and using two to repeatedly swat Malfoy. In spite of the terrible past few days she'd had, she found herself laughing at the utter absurdity of having a pillow fight with Draco Malfoy in his bedroom inside Malfoy Manor. Especially considering that he was dressed only in a pair of blue silk boxers and she wore only a bathrobe and her knickers. It was entirely unlike her to ever do something so unrestrained and though she would never admit it aloud, Hermione was rather enjoying the moment.
"Oi!" Malfoy shouted in frustration when Hermione swatted him repeatedly, one after another with the pillows. She batted at him wildly and without reprieve. All he could do was hold his own pillow up like a rather ineffective shield. Hermione was having the best time whumping him repeatedly, laughing and actually enjoying herself.
She gasped in surprise when he dropped his pillow, ducked underneath both of hers weapons and wrapped his arms around her legs, lifting her and toppling them both backwards onto the bed. Hermione shrieked as she began to fall, Malfoy still clutching her before she landed on her back with Draco Malfoy between her bent up knees. He laughed in her face when he lifted his upper-half off her to peer down at her, clearly just as aware of the fact that amid the shenanigans her robe had come open again as Hermione was.
Meaning her bare legs were wrapped around his bare hips, and that her stomach and chest were open to his gaze. Hermione felt a blush crawl up her neck to stain her cheeks crimson when she felt her body respond to the position. She might not be a fan of Draco Malfoy, but her body didn't seem to care about that right in that instance and Hermione cursed the supplements the healer had given her that were supposed to increase her libido. Her body tingled with need and Hermione bit her lip on the pulse of desire that swept through her system.
An odd expression crept across Malfoy's face as he peered down at her, clearly just as surprised to suddenly find himself well within her personal space and Hermione wondered if, like her, he was suddenly realising that they'd been having fun with one another. Hermione could feel a blush crawling up her cheeks the longer he looked, his eyes straying from her eyes to fix on her lips as though he meant to kiss her. Her tongue darted out to moisten them in a subconscious response while Hermione wildly debated whether she ought to ruin the moment by pointing out that having been unconscious for two days she probably had morning breath that could kill a troll.
She also desperately wanted time to examine the notion that her body was responding to his and that she found herself wanting him to lean down and snog her. She was so focused on the situation in fact, that Hermione missed the crack of apparation that sounded beyond the bed.
"Hermione, Kreacher told me you were finally awake and feeling better… oh my Merlin, what is going on here?" Harry Potter's voice could be heard from somewhere above her head and Hermione jolted out of her fixation on Malfoy's mouth, her eyes closing in horror.
"You're interrupting Potter!" Malfoy drawled and Hermione blushed crimson when he didn't even have the decency to get off her or react at all beyond sounding annoyed with Harry, "How did you even get in here? You're not welcome in my bedroom."
Hermione marvelled at Draco Malfoy's ability to sound so positively condescending and offended whilst caught in such a perilously scandalous position. In fact he didn't seem even a little bit embarrassed about being caught in his boxers and looking very much like he was seducing her.
"I had Kreacher bring me over to make sure Hermione was alright…." Harry began, automatically answering the question before trailing off with a distinctly awkward tension that made Hermione want to melt through the bed.
"Well, could you come back later?" Malfoy asked sounding snotty and yet wickedly amused at the same time, "I'm a little busy seducing her right now and you're making things awkward."
"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in outrage at his blunt dismissal of Harry.
"What?" he asked indignantly.
"Get off me, would you? And stop being a git to Harry."
"Is this how things are going to be? You can't just boss me around like I'm some snotty first year Granger. Now hush while I woo you into submission," Hermione could tell he was having entirely too much fun tormenting her and making Harry uncomfortable.
"Uh… I'm going to go, Hermione," Harry announced, stammering and blushing red on her behalf when Malfoy made to nuzzle into her neck, "I'll um… catch up with you… later."
"No, Harry don't go," Hermione called out, not trusting herself to continue to be alone with Malfoy, "Malfoy's just being a git. Get off me, you big oaf!"
"I'm busy right now," Malfoy replied without lifting his face from where he'd nuzzled in under her chin and had begun tormenting her flesh with little nips and kisses that made Hermione's heart race with shock and desire.
Hermione closed her eyes in horror once more when Harry disapparated looking a little green around the gills, his cheeks scarlet at having interrupted them.
"Damn it Malfoy," Hermione groaned in annoyance, finally managing to shove him off her once Harry was gone.
"What?" Malfoy asked and Hermione glared at him across the bed.
"Could you have been any more of a git? Poor Harry will be scarred for life over this!"
"Serves him right for barging in without an invitation," Malfoy replied but Hermione could tell he was entirely too pleased with himself for having gotten her caught by one of her best friends in such a compromising position.
"I'm going to shower," Hermione announced, not at all fancying the idea of tolerating him any longer, her headache returning.
"Kreacher brought all your things here, so your stuff is out here when you need it," Malfoy called from behind her as Hermione stomped towards the en-suite she could see through the next room off his enormous bedroom. When she glanced over her shoulder she noticed that he was stretched out on the bed, lying on his back with one arm thrown lazily over his eyes. He clearly didn't care that she might be watching him, or that he was half-naked.
Hermione rolled her eyes in self-disgust when a little voice in her head pointed out that he had nothing to be embarrassed over.
~O~
"So, what's on your list of things to do before you're tied down being a mother for the rest of your life?" Malfoy asked a half hour later when Hermione had joined him at the table in his bedroom suite. She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth to stare at him.
He still hadn't bothered to don any extra clothing, sitting there in his blue silk boxers like he hadn't a care in the world. Hermione could see the angry red scar on his left forearm, the remnant left behind of his Dark Mark. He made no effort to hide it from her and Hermione wondered where he got his nerve. Not that she was offended by the sight. She imagined that she'd be more offended if he'd tried to hide it and made a big deal about it. He didn't. Just like she had a scar marring her forearm that she refused to hide, Malfoy was open about his own blemish.
Hermione begrudgingly admitted that she admired him for it. She'd attempted to get dressed properly after her shower, but he'd insisted she not bother and Hermione was alarmed by the incredibly casual and comfortable nature of the breakfast they were sharing, him dressed in naught but boxers and Hermione herself clad in only a pink silk night-gown.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, "Like, what have I wanted to see or do?"
He nodded at her, his mouth full of toast.
"Well, I always wanted to go to Paris and snog someone on top of the Eiffel Tower, to be honest," Hermione admitted, unsure why she was telling him but realising that it was the truth.
"You want to go?" he asked seriously and Hermione's eyes bulged in surprise.
"What?"
"I said do you want to go? We can go later today if you like?" he offered.
"We can't just jet off to Paris for the day," Hermione protested, her mind boggling a little.
"Granger, I have more money than can ever be spent. Literally. And we've got four days left to be young, carefree adults before I'm going to knock you up. If you want to go to Paris, then let's go to Paris," he told her seriously.
"Have you lost your mind?" she wanted to know, frowning at him.
"It's certainly a possibility," Malfoy smirked, "I've spent most of the past few months locked up in the Manor talking to myself, so I could've cracked."
"You want to go to Paris with me?" Hermione asked in disbelief, "Just like that, out of the blue?"
"Yep," he answered, "Pack a bag for a few days. I want to see a lot more than a silly Tower before I'm tied to you through a kid forever. Come on, get dressed."
He urged her to her feet, taking hold of her hand and tugging her until she was standing. Hermione squawked when he stepped closer and began untying the sash on her robe, stripping it off her shoulders and pushing it to the floor before she could protest. She stood before him in her underwear, her cheeks slowly turning pink and he smirked even wider.
When he wandered away and began rummaging through a large walk-in robe, Hermione wondered if he actually might be crazy. He didn't bat an eye at seeing her so scantily clad, or at the way she made a confused, garbled sound when he tossed a summer dress at her from within his wardrobe. One of hers. As though her things were also stored in there already.
"Are you seriously this… unaffected by the fact that we're both half-naked?" Hermione asked him, following him into the wardrobe even as she pulled on the dress he'd chucked at her.
"Granger, I've spent the past two days with you lying unconscious in my bed. When you weren't unconscious, you were screaming and sobbing and writhing in agony. It's safe to say that any boundaries that might've existed based on us hating each other have been at least temporarily forgotten. Just don't make it weird, alright?"
"You're not feeling awkward around me?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Well, I wasn't until you started going on about it," he replied and Hermione watched him find a pair of muggle jeans, pulling them on over his boxers before locating a wizarding band t-shirt and pulling that on over his head. It was safe to say she'd never seen him look so much like a normal teenage boy. Ordinarily he wore suits and dress robes or his school uniform. She'd never seen him in anything else. Besides his boxers, of course.
"How can you be this nonchalant?" Hermione wanted to know, frowning at him in confusion, "You and I disdain each other, and yet you just spent a civil morning with me, including having a pillow fight, all dressed in only your underwear."
"Granger, would you just leave it alone before you make everything completely awkward. I'm trying to be civil and I'm trying to fake that we're friends long enough that we can actually learn to tolerate each other. Don't ruin it," he admonished, snagging a light jacket of hers off one of the hangers in his wardrobe and pressing it into her hands.
Hermione blinked in surprise at him, figuring she could probably do that. She could fake a friendship with him until she could stand him. Or she could at least try.
"Do I want to know why all of my things are hanging in your closet?" Hermione asked him seriously when she noticed most of her things hanging there.
"Kreacher lost his head when he couldn't help you," Malfoy shrugged, "He was wandering around muttering about insensitive ginger bastards and pug-faced harpies, wringing his hands together and constantly getting in the way. Midway through yesterday afternoon when you woke and started to scream again he completely freaked out. He started popping in and out, lugging all of your belongings into my house. Including your cat. He ignored me when I tried to talk to him too. Pretty sure he was ignoring Potter as well."
"He brought all my things here and unpacked them?" Hermione asked, shocked by his behaviour.
"That elf seems to adore you," Malfoy pointed out seriously folding several changes of clothes and putting them in a small trunk.
"He usually barely tolerates me. He's been brainwashed to dislike muggle-borns…" Hermione protested, confused by the idea that Kreacher had reacted that way.
"Guess he changed his mind when he found out you're going to be the incubator for the next heir to the Black family bloodline," Malfoy shrugged, "But he brought all your stuff here. Your cat freaked out when it saw me and tried to claw my face off."
Hermione laughed at that.
"Ginny might've taught him to attack a rather life-like doll that looked similar to you in an attempt to use him as a weapon against you whilst at Hogwarts. I'm surprised he hadn't attacked you before now, to be honest," Hermione told him.
"You taught your cat to attack me on sight?" Malfoy asked, looking amused and annoyed at that idea.
"It's was Ron's idea, but Ginny ran with it. We had too much free time during the summer before sixth year…" Hermione shrugged, copying his actions and packing several changes of clothes into a bag.
"Delightful," Malfoy rolled his eyes at her.
"Are you seriously going to just take us off to Paris for the day?" Hermione asked him.
He paused in his packing to smirk at her.
"I'm taking you everywhere. I want to do a lot of things that I won't be able to once we have a kid and have to act like responsible adults. We've got four days to kill. I hope you don't need sleep."
"How are we getting to Paris?" Hermione wanted to know, following him out into the bedroom once more.
"Portkey, of course," he rolled her eyes at her, "Flibbet! Make sure that ginger monster of a cat gets fed while we're gone. If Kreacher comes back fretting about Hermione tell him she's fine and we'll be back in a few days."
Hermione barely had time to collect her jacket and slip her feet into a pair of ballet flats before Malfoy snatched up her hand and dragged her over to the fireplace, climbing in with her and Flooing them both to the Ministry
A/N: Dear everyone! Thank you all so much for all you kind words of encouragement between updates. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this fic, along with many of my others. What do you think of this one so far? Are you enjoying it? What are some of the things you'd all like to achieve if you could go anywhere and sww anything before having your life interrupted forever? HAPPY NEW YEAR CHERUBS! xx-Kitten