Hi everyone.
I deeply apologize for the long overdue update. Unfortunately, life got in the way, and writing got put on the back burner. My new job got a bit overwhelming and I have been working way more than I expecting. And to be honest, I was suffering some major writers block. But now we're back in business! Inspiration has struck. Beware, for this chapter gets a bit...steamy. I'm so glad to be back. I've missed you all. I hope you enjoy.
Best.
E
The week after the engagement ball passed quite quickly for Hermione. Work filled her days, with simple forms and tasks that needed to be completed. She got lunch with either Harry or Amelia throughout the week. Draco had escorted Hermione to dinner on Wednesday night at a small, discreet restaurant in Muggle London.
The witch had been quite impressed by the way that Draco had handled himself in such a mundane establishment. He had even exchanged his wizarding currency for that of muggle money, insisting that a proper man never left his date to pay for her own meal. They had both indulged in delicious feasts, taking their time enjoying the soft and subtle ambiance of the dining room.
It had been a quiet and peaceful evening overall, but had ended with a less than subtle snogging session in the doorway of Hermione's flat. Draco's lips were like ambrosia and nectar combined, alluring and dangerous all at once. But Hermione knew, as much as her raging hormones were encouraging her to take the plunge, that it was too soon for anything too drastic. Draco, being the traditional Pureblooded man he was, was also hesitant to breach anything too physical. Besides the light groping that occurred during their makeouts, nothing had gone so far yet.
The young witch knew that there was much that needed to happen before she and Draco were between the sheets with one another, not matter how stunning the young Malfoy heir looked without his shirt on.
Like her fiance meeting her parents, for one.
At first, she had honestly forgotten about such an important detail. There had been so much drama and whiplash over her engagement to begin with, that adding in her parents had not even entered her mind's eye. Until a postcard had arrived from Switzerland, reminding her of her parent's impending return from their skiing holiday. Hermione was panicked.
Having to explain such a situation, especially to her Muggle parents who had already been through so much, seemed more than daunting. It seemed absolutely impossible. Which is why Hermione found herself cradling a crystal glass, half filled with firewhiskey, in Draco's living room on a Friday night.
She was still dressed in her charcoal pinstripe suit from work, her previously well tamed hair falling out of its manicured bun in a wave of chestnut curls. Draco was trying to reassure her that him meeting her parents was not as big of a deal as she believed.
He was not very convincing, no matter how handsome the deep sapphire colored dress shirt he was wearing made him look.
Focus, Hermione. The young witch thought to herself, taking another sip of the burning liquid in her hand. She flinched at the taste, but swallowed it anyway.
"I'm sure that with the right wording, and the proper amount of time, your parents will learn to like and accept me as a good candidate for marriage to their daughter." Draco was finishing off a list of his attributes that was going to make him an excellent husband. Hermione had only heard a few, seeing as the blond haired man in front of her could talk about himself for hours.
"Oh yes, they will definitely see you as a wonderful choice of spouse for their daughter. A former member of the death squad that had a ransom on their heads!" Hermione mused, her somewhat drunkenness evident in her voice. Draco gave her a pained look, obviously very offended by her insinuation.
"Now I know that what I've done in the past has been bloody awful, but I thought we had moved past it. Apparently not." Draco spoke, seeming hurt by how dismissive Hermione was being about the idea of her parents actually liking and approving of their upcoming marriage. And how his past mistakes would affect the entirety of the situation at hand.
Hermione knew that she had royally screwed up. She quickly formulated an apology, wanting to make sure that she and Draco were entering the ring as a unified front.
"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean that, Draco. I'm just all out of sorts, and normally I would never joke about something like that. I think the whiskey is starting to get to my head." Hermione sighed, her non-dominant hand tangling in her unruly mane.
"It's alright, love. I know that this is going to be hard for everyone involved. So how about you put down the firewhiskey, and we go at this together?" Draco suggested, gently removing the crystal glass of liquor from Hermione's hand.
"You're right." Hermione agreed, nodding as Draco placed the abandoned drink back onto the coffee table in front of them. He situated his long limbed body onto the leather couch next to Hermione, placing his hand on her thigh.
"What time are your parents arriving tomorrow?" Draco asked, restarting the conversation and confirming the information.
"Their plane arrives at three, so they should be ready to have dinner with us at my flat around seven. They think it's just going to be dinner with me, so we are going to have to introduce you to each other when they arrive." Hermione answered, mentally recounting the schedule that her parent's postcard had detailed.
When Hermione had first explained what a Muggle airplane was to Draco earlier in the night, his mind had been overtaken in disbelief. He couldn't fathom that Muggles had their own way of 'flying', so to speak.
"They will be arriving at your flat at seven then. Let's think of the next step. Have you thought of what dinner is going to be? Are you going to get take out, or are going to prepare something? If so, you need to check to see if you have the ingredients. If not, then you need to plan on ordering in advance, and decide what restaurant you wish to order from." Draco walked her through the next step. Hermione took a minute to think, slowly processing.
"I need to cook something. My father is super picky, and doesn't favor eating take out. It will have to be something with chicken or fish. My parents don't eat red meat." Hermione sighed, scrolling through possible recipes in her head.
"If you would like, I could cook dinner for the four of us. Maybe my coq au vin? It would be something less for you to stress about, and would give me yet another opportunity to impress your parents." Draco offered, and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.
He was offering to cook. The Muggle way. For her parents.
Godric, this man is a dream. Hermione thought to herself.
"Oh my gosh, that would be fantastic. Thank you, Draco, so much." Hermione gave him a quick hug around the neck, which he graciously took, placing a small kiss on her reddened cheek.
Pulling away, Hermione also made another request of her fiance.
"Can you select a wine to pair with dinner as well? I'm terrible at wine selections, and my mother drinks it with dinner every night. Preferably a white, but if a red pairs better, that's fine. I trust your expert opinion." Hermione requested, and Draco nodded.
"I am sure that there is something in the Malfoy family wine cellar that would be the best choice."
"Just no Elven wine. That would be a disaster." Hermione quipped, and Draco agreed. He remembered the one time at fourteen that he and Theo had ingested an entire bottle of vintage Elven wine at a Malfoy family soiree. It had been a nightmare, and the hangover was even worse. A Pepper-Up Potion would not even touch the side effects of an Elven wine hangover, Draco had learned the hard way.
"Now I just have to figure out what to wear." Hermione groaned. Her mother had always been especially picky about appearances, ever since Hermione had been a child. Her mother was a harsh critic, and the young witch was desperate to impress her.
Draco had his own thoughts on the situation, and actively voiced them.
"Wear that maroon dress that you wore to the manor that day. It makes your bum look fantastic." Draco spoke cheekily, giving Hermione a wink.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy! I cannot believe you just said that." Hermione cried, shocked by his forwardness. Not that she didn't appreciate the compliment. But it was a new territory for the both of them, and she was hesitant on how to approach it.
"Can I not complement my future wife's body?" Draco inquired, his lips giving her a sly grin. Hermione giggled, trying not to blush like a schoolgirl.
"You can. But it's just weird." Hermione responded, and Draco gave her a confused look.
"Why is it weird? You're going to be my wife, Hermione. Cursed tapestry or not, I find you to be a very attractive woman, and I want you to know that. Don't be ashamed if I compliment your beauty." Draco leaned in closer to her, his breath causing Hermione to shiver.
She felt the warm waves of attraction that she often felt around Malfoy nowadays slowly creep up her body, a buzzing feeling stirring in her belly. She turned to face her fiance, their lips millimeters apart.
"If you find me so attractive, why do you always stop me?" Hermione asked, knowing that she was entering dangerous waters. Her hands were clutching one another, trying to keep from running them up Draco's ever so near body.
"Because, no matter how absolutely damn fuckable I find you, Hermione Granger, I want to do this right." Draco breathed, his lips brushing the cusp of her ear as he whispered into it. Hermione felt a raging inferno fill her senses as such words filled her hearing. Her heart was pounding, the heat from her stomach slowly traveling downward.
"What do you want to do to me?" The young witch was almost out of breath, but spoke the words quickly, wanting to know the man next to her answer.
"What do you want me to do, Hermione? " Draco countered. Once again, Hermione's heartbeat quicked. Godric, this man was going to kill her.
"I want you to kiss me senseless." Hermione answered, her voice barely audible. Her hands, still clasped together, were sweating with anticipation of Draco's reponse.
"Patience, mon petit guerrier. How about I tell you what I would like to do, hmm?" Draco's words flowed like silk.
"Please." Hermione was trying not to melt, but the friction between her legs was slowly building at a rapid pace.
"First, I would undress you, pulling off every morsel of clothing on you, until I saw every ounce of your skin." Draco skimmed his teeth along the curve of her jaw, running his index finger along the collar of Hermione's cotton work blouse. She felt the goosebumps form along her neck from Draco's touch.
"Then what would you do?" Hermione prodded him, wanting to help ease the nearly unbearable feeling of need filling her every fiber of being. Draco chuckled at her pushiness, but continued his pursuit with fervor.
"Then, I would kiss every inch of your skin, until no inch of it was left untouched. I would taste the honey of your lips, and the silk of your skin." Draco's lips moved from her jaw to the curve of her cheek, Hermione nearly falling out at the overwhelming sense of fire that was filling her.
"And then what would you do?" Hermione was going to keep pushing until she got her release, and Draco happily obliged her wanton wishes.
"Then I would spread you open, tasting you, feeling you. I would fill you, and make love to you until you were screaming my name, Hermione Jean Granger." Draco's lips moved to her hairline, and Hermione was near exploding.
"Why won't you do that now, right here?" Hermione questioned, her lips quivering as Draco's now traced down her brow bone, to the tip of her freckled covered nose, before returning to answer to her, his lips at her ear again.
"Because, love. The day I make you mine is the day we are bound together as man and wife. Then you will be mine, in every way." Draco answered her with a finality that Hermione didn't even know was possible, crashing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.
Hermione felt the flames in her body rage until only a flicker remained. Draco pulled away, placing a kiss on Hermione's forehead. The young witch tried to gather herself, before giving her fiance a glowing smile.
"Godric, you're good at that." Hermione sighed, causing Draco to laugh.
"Don't worry, love. There's even more to come, just you wait."
Hermione nodded, and watched as Draco headed into the kitchen. Leaning back against the couch cushion with an exasperated sigh. She knew in that moment two very distinctive things.
One; she had absolutely nothing to worry about when it came to Draco meeting her parents. He was going to be flawless.
Two; she was going to need another pair of knickers.