"Nothing is so wretched or foolish as to anticipate misfortunes. What madness is it to be expecting evil before it comes?" - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

In which Draco has poor short-term memory and Hermione punishes him with a snuggle...

September 26, 2003

Crash.

The steaming cup of Earl Grey sitting on the table fell off of it, again. Hermione waved her wand at it; the cup repaired itself and the spilled tea disappeared.

The first few times it had happened, she'd been angry. She'd told Malfoy to get his "filthy, clumsy, stinky feet off of the table!" He'd complied for a few moments, but as soon as she'd poured herself a new cup his feet were up and the cup was down. She poured herself another glass of tea and started again. "As I was saying."
"Were you?" His feet were up again, but she'd moved the cup so that he couldn't kick it down.

"Yes. You still haven't answered my question."
"Oh, yes."
"Yes, you've forgotten?" She smiled.

"No."
"It's been barely more than a week."

"That's why I haven't forgotten." He crossed his ankles; the table trembled ominously.

"Alright, then. Start the list."
"Why don't you?"

The list had been her idea. After the past few days, she could barely believe that the path up to their as yet unpicked wedding date would be a walk in the park (that is, unless the park were full of chimaeras and axe-murderers… or in-laws, as it turned out.). Fortunately for them, she'd realized once they'd gotten to her flat, they'd been given a park map. He hadn't understood the metaphor.

"You have forgotten."

"No, I have not."
"Yes, you have. So…"

"Have not, and if I had one could hardly blame me, considering the week we've had."

"True." She nodded. "…but you have yet to produce a warning."

"Touché" He sat, deep in fake-thought for a moment before she folded.

"Fine, I'll start."

I don't know why we'll have to go back in time in order to get married, she'd said, but the future must be really horrid. Why else would we leave it? He'd agreed.

"Pansy Parkinson…"
"Run," he finished.
"Lucky guess." She wrote it down.

"Who wouldn't run from that cow?"

"You."

"Touché."

That's when she'd used the park metaphor. He'd been confused. Explain, he'd said. She'd rolled her eyes.

"So, that's one."
"Bravo, Granger. You can count."
She ignored him. "Didn't you say something to…" she giggled "you, something about eating knickers?"

Yes. "I don't recall." He lied. "How ridiculous, edible knickers."
"That's two."

"Bravo, Granger. You can—"

"Already said that."

"Touché."

"Already said, re-said, stepped on and killed that. Give me another."

How many people are lucky enough to be given a guide to their future? She'd said. What's good… what's bad… He hadn't known, but said that he expected she might know the exact number. That's when she'd said they should write them all down; just to prepare themselves for… whatever it was that was going to happen.

"Chang and Davies?"
"What about them?"
"Just the usual: If you see them, run. But I'd do that anyway."
She added it to the list. "That's not very nice."

"No, it's wise. Davies is all hormones and pills, and Chang's got… Chang issues."

"That's still not very nice."
"I might have been offended by what you said about Pansy."
"But you weren't… aside from the fact that you said it."

"Touché." She took a sip from the still-intact cup while he thought. "I think that's already happened, though. So we can't prevent it."
"We can't prevent any of this."

"Then what are we doing?"

She smiled knowingly. "I like making lists."
"Bleeding hell."

"And, perhaps, we can prepare ourselves for what's going to happen. You know… brace ourselves for the impact?"

"Great."

She took another sip. She swallowed. "Tell Harry Potter last." She said quietly.

"What?"
"That was one of the warnings."

"Tell him what?"

"Probably about the whole… baby… thing."
"Oh, right. The sexy lie."

She pushed his feet off of the table. "Shut up, Mal-ferret." She laughed. "But that's probably already happened… at the club."

"Oh, yeah, what with the reporters and all."

She added it below 'Cho and Roger- Run', but drew up a small X beside it.

"What was after that?"

She thought. "Madam Malkin's"

"What about it?" He folded his feet under him on her living room couch. "Warnings aren't very good if they don't make any sense."

"Honestly, I don't remember."
"Ha!" He pointed one long,white finger at her. "Now who doesn't remember?"

"I've come up with this entire list, you louse."

"Louse?" He snorted.

"Shut up." She included 'Madam Malkin's?' below the Harry warning.

"Did you get the one about house-elves yet?"

"What about house-elves?" she asked absently, embellishing the last question mark.

"About them not making good cooks."
"Of course they don't make good cooks… they make good free, paid voters."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Just write it."

She did. "I think that's it."

"That's all?"

"I think so."

"God, we're really not very good at giving warnings are we?" He shouted after her as she stood to pin the list up in her kitchen.

"Huh?" She came back and crawled onto the couch beside him, leaning her head on the crook between his neck and collarbone. He smelled like pineapples. "Draco?"

"Yes, Granger my sweet?" He stretched out beneath her.

"Why do you smell like pineapples?"

"Why do you smell like…" He planted a kiss on the top of her head under the pretext of smelling her hair. "mmm…"

"Mmm?" She giggled against his shoulder. "I didn't know 'mmm' had a smell."

"Apparently…" He tilted her chin up at a slightly awkward angle to plant a soft kiss on her nose. "There are some things even the great Granger doesn't know."

"Touché." She leaned in to his lips.

"Granger?" He kissed her again.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask a stupid question?" Kiss.

"I'm sure you can." She shifted into a more comfortable position and let his tongue (which had been trying to get to hers for the past few long moments) pass her lips.

"Do I really smell like pineapples?"

She laughed against his lips and leaned down to nuzzle his neck. "Yes."

"Oh."

She let her hands wander into his hair as she kissed his temple... his cheekbone... his freshly colored lips.

"Is that a good thing?"

"No, Malfoy…" She kissed him again. "That is a stupid question."

"That's a yes, then?" They resumed for a moment.

"Out of curiosity…" She paused again. "Why?"

"I was just wondering why you suddenly felt the need to thrust yourself upon me."

"Then they weren't lying." She laughed and leaned against his shoulder again. "You really are that dim."

"Okay, I'll shut up."

She pretended to believe him and went back to kissing. "No…" kiss "it's alright," kiss "I just thought…" longer kiss "you know," kiss "I haven't had you all to myself in over a week." Resonant, tongue-filled, lingering kiss.

"Oh…" he said when she had finished. "Okay."

"You insensitive sleaze ball…" The thought died on her lips as he pulled her down again.

"I love it when you talk dirty, Granger." He tasted the corner of her lips.

"You're disgusting."

He moved down to the curve of her jawbone. She tasted earthy and salty and natural and perfect. "You love me."

"You know I do."

He kissed the soft skin under her right ear. His hand moved up to stroke the tendrils of brown hair at the nape of her neck. He tugged at the collar of her turtleneck, exposing florid skin that contrasted sharply with silver and emeralds. "I thought you'd gotten this off."

She stopped kissing the back of his neck and followed his gaze. She visibly deflated. "Trust me, I've tried."

"Is it really all that hard?" He felt the smooth back of the necklace, where smooth silver sat in place of a clasp.

"Yes, it really is." She snapped. She crawled back down so that she could rest her head on his soft stomach. "Your grandmother must have invented some kind of new sealing charm just for this."

"Actually, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Marthe de Mal Foi, made it." He looked slightly putout that the kissing had stopped, but wasn't so stupid as to try and start it up again. Instead, he amused himself by playing with her hair.

"God, even your ancestors are out to get me!" She laughed darkly, the vibrations tickled his stomach but he didn't dare let himself laugh. "I'm really feeling the love here, Draco."

"Hey, I can't help who my family is; and if I could I wouldn't." He stopped playing with her hair.

They sat in silence for a moment. "I think I'm too tired to argue that point."

"Okay."

"I'm going to sleep." She snuggled into his sweater. "Don't squirm too much."

"I'm not promising anything."

A/N: This chapter is a lot a lot a lot shorter than the last one, but that's why I finished writing it so quickly. It just kind of flowed. I also had a lot less to fit in. Next chapter is (I think) an interlude and then a very big development involving Ron. Be looking out for the interlude (it's one of my favorite characters) and the chapter following that one up, they should be out at around the same time (preferably within 2 weeks, but who knows, it could be 2 years... I hope not, though). Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and who is still going to review this chapter. XOXOXOXOXO