~Chapter Twenty-Seven~ A Dangerous Game
Blaise was still where Draco had left him, although his expression had changed to a mixture of concern and confusion. Of all the Slytherins Draco had been friends with, Blaise was probably the most reliable. He put on a good pretence of careless swagger, but at the heart of it he was a genuine guy.
"So."
"So."
Blaise raised an eyebrow as Draco sat down again. "I've topped up your glass. And mine."
Draco nodded his appreciation, finding his glass, and took a long deep sip as he sat again, marshalling his thoughts. "So… First of all, I can't tell you everything, so don't dig. But, long story short – I'm on this murder case for Potter."
Blaise had started forwards, ready to object, but then relaxed as the details emerged. "Go on."
"Granger's in on it too. We needed to make ourselves a target to help draw out the murderer. Simple. The girl at Philtre, I don't even know her name, that was just a result of a rough day. I'd actually forgotten about her."
"Bit rough on the girl, but I guess most of us have some story like that." Blaise's rebuke was gentle, though his brows had drawn into a frown of thought. "That'll screw up this pretence with Granger then, won't it? If she goes to the papers."
Draco nodded, suddenly tired, draining the rest of his glass and feeling the fire of the alcohol trace its way down into his stomach. "Exactly."
"And I suppose you'll want my help if she does?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
"Of course." Blaise flicked his wand at the bottle, and it flew over to refill Draco's glass, his brown eyes sharp over his own. "How did Potter and Granger take me being told the truth?"
"Oh fine. They trust you."
Blaise let out a bellow of a laugh. "Now that's something I never thought I'd hear if I lived to two-hundred! The old Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry finally broken."
"It's more broken than you'd think, these days," Draco muttered, taking another sip and easing back into his seat.
"No kidding." Blaise's eyes narrowed. "So how is it? Playing houses with Granger?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "We're not…playing at houses."
"You know what I mean. In school it was a struggle for you even to be in the same room as her."
It still is. Just a different reason now. The unspoken words hung in Draco's mind for a few moments. "I was never that bad."
"Uh huh."
"What?"
"You're dodging the question."
Draco snorted, then glanced into the flames to his left, running the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, tasting the whiskey residue as he weighed his answer. He shrugged. "Well, it's like I said earlier. We're evenly matched. More similar than you might think."
"Yeah. You said that already."
Draco shot Blaise a glare.
"You've got to give me something, mate. You've gone from hating her to working with her to pretending to be in a relationship in the space of a few weeks!"
"I didn't hate her before I started the case."
"Oh?" Blaise raised his eyebrows at the speed of the answer.
Draco frowned, knowing what the expression in his friend's eyes meant and not liking it in the slightest. "You know what I mean. I stopped hating all of them a long time ago. Although perhaps Weasley I wouldn't happily sit down to a meal with."
Blaise chuckled and took a sip. "Glad to see some things haven't changed."
"She was the one who needed convincing to start with." Draco swirled his glass.
"That's hardly surprising." Blaise stretched luxuriously. "It's not like you were in touch after you changed your mind about her."
"Mm."
"But she changed her mind?"
"Yeah. We actually work pretty well together."
"Seems like you do more than that." Blaise's tone held a grin in it.
Draco frowned. "What?"
"Witch Weekly?"
"Oh. That. It was a spell that went out of hand."
Blaise waggled his eyebrows, and Draco rolled his eyes.
"Not like that, idiot!"
"Shame. I was admiring the athleticism."
Draco sighed. "Remind me why we're friends again?"
Blaise grinned. "Because I have the best firewhiskey?"
"Ah yes." Draco sipped on the drink. "It is rather good. Just the thing after the day I've had."
Blaise snorted. "What are you talking about, it's barely an hour after lunch!"
"Mm, that reminds me," Draco raised a hand to Blaise, asking him to wait. "Dilly!"
There was a loud crack and Dilly appeared.
"Yes, Master?"
"Could you fix me some lunch? My plans were interrupted."
"Of course, Master. At once. Anything for Mr Zabini, sir?"
Draco turned to Blaise, brows raised in question.
"I could do with a corner shop Chinese takeaway, to be honest."
Draco's expression wrinkled. "With firewhiskey?"
Blaise nodded with a grin, tucking his hands behind his head. "Goes down a treat."
"Hm." Draco turned back to Dilly. "Think you could make something along those lines?"
"Oh yes, Master." Dilly bowed, and with another crack was gone.
"Why no lunch yet then?"
Draco shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Those damn reporters of course. I've been mopping up the mess they've made."
"Ah. Granger not like things being publicised quite that much? Or was it all a clever plan? Scandal and sex do sell the most copies, you know." Blaise nodded knowledgeably.
"It was definitely not part of the plan. I've had to agree to some stupid interview with Witch Weekly in order to get them to fix it."
"Just as well I'd reminded you of this girl then." Blaise sipped his drink.
"Precisely." Draco raised his glass in a faint salute as thanks.
"Seems like a lot of work just to appease a work colleague."
"She's not–" Draco stopped himself, frowning hard at the carpet. "Well. She is just a work colleague. I don't know if we're…if we're friends."
Blaise gave Draco a searching look. "Sounds to me like you get along well enough."
Draco sighed and leant back into the chair, head tilted to the ceiling. "Yeah, I guess so. But if it wasn't for the case we wouldn't even be on speaking terms. We're colleagues only."
Blaise frowned. "You know you can be friends outside of work? That is allowed."
"Yes of course I know that!" Draco scowled, gulping down the last of his glass, which the floating bottle automatically refilled.
"But?"
The creases between Draco's brows deepened and he glared. "Isn't it obvious? Why would she want to be friends with me? Afterall, I only bullied and belittled her for six years."
"I'd argue more like five, but sure."
Draco growled. "That's not the point."
"I know what your point is. I just think it's a stupid one."
Draco glared.
Blaise rolled his eyes and shrugged. "You've both grown up. You've both changed. Nobody adult lives their life constricted by what happened in school. Well. No one normal. And admittedly a lot of the stuff that happened in our school wasn't normal, but still. We can move beyond these things. Haven't you just said that both have?"
"Working together as colleagues is different," Draco said flatly.
"Most colleagues don't pretend to be a couple."
"Well most colleagues aren't in a murder investigation!"
Blaise sighed, pressing his glass against his forehead. "Tell me something. Has being a couple made things awkward between you?"
Draco frowned, thinking back. "I mean…kind of yes. At the start. But I guess not, not now. We still work together the same."
"How many 'work colleagues' could do that? Or even close friends for that matter?"
"What's your point?"
"Stop being such a na-na about it and just be friends with her!"
Draco frowned, turning back to regard the flames.
"Unless…you don't want to just be friends with her?" Blaise's voice had softened, and he watched Draco closely.
Draco watched the orange flames flicker and dance, leaping and vanishing, the heart of the fire a bright white. He shrugged slightly.
"Ah."
Draco swung around. Blaise was grinning. "What do you mean 'ah'?" he asked fiercely.
"I mean, you like her."
"I do not!"
"Oh, well then you won't mind if I go ask her out on a date then? Give her the ol' razzle dazzle. There's not been a witch yet who could resist my charms." Blaise made to stand, but before he could take a single step Draco was on his feet in front of him, squaring up, teeth bared in a snarl.
"Sit back down, Zabini."
Blaise raised his hands in surrender, returning to his seat and taking an unconcerned sip as Draco continued to tower over him. "So. You just want to be friends then."
Draco scowled and sat back down as well. "It's not that. She just…deserves to be treated well."
"Uh huh. These are just your thoughts…as a friend, of course."
Draco forced out a nod.
"Well it's very caring of you to think about things like that for her."
Draco grunted.
Blaise watched him over the rim of his glass for a few moments, then leant forwards, his air of braggadocio swapped for something much more sincere. "Look, Drake. If you've got feelings for her, you've got feelings for her. There's no harm in admitting it."
Draco closed his eyes, and sucked in a long breath. All the thoughts he'd had for longer than he was aware were swirling around his head, pressing at whatever last barrier was still keeping them under control, and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the force of what was in his mind that made him dizzy. All the words and feelings he had kept at bay were now fighting to get out, bubbling beneath the surface. But he had to keep control. He was a Malfoy. "There's no point."
"Why?"
"Because she's her and I'm me!" Draco exploded, whipping around to face Blaise, eyes wide and suffused with a tormented frustration that he had hitherto kept to himself. "Why should she even give me a second look? She's…she's Hermione Granger. And what am I? A Malfoy. A former Death-Eater."
"They're just labels, mate." Blaise rested a hand on Draco's shoulder, his grip firm. "They don't mean anything more than we give them. We both know you've grown beyond them. You know her better than I do. Would she really care about those things now?"
Draco sighed deeply, hanging his head, his eyes shut. "I guess not."
"Well then?"
"It's not the time, Blaise."
"Draco. Do you care for her?"
Draco nodded slightly.
"Do you want her to be happy?"
Draco nodded again.
"Do you want to be with her, if she'll have you?"
Draco's nod was so slight it barely made his hair move. Inside him, something that he'd been trying to control and suppress finally relaxed.
"Then what's stopping you?"
"It's not the right time." The words were squeezed out through gritted teeth. "There's the case, and this whole charade. I don't want her to think I'm taking advantage of it because…because of how I feel."
"And you aren't, right?"
"Of course not!" Draco snarled. "It's really fucking tempting, but no. Never. I'm not stupid. And I wouldn't abuse her trust like that. Everything is just for the case. It has to be."
Blaise nodded. "Good man."
Draco huffed, muttering darkly to himself in which the words "stupid" and "moron" frequently occurred.
Unaffected, Blaise tapped a finger against his glass thoughtfully. "What would you do if she only wanted to be friends…supposing there ever is a right time?"
Draco sighed deeply, drawing the breath from the very depth of his lungs, and forcing it to remain steady. "Then I'd just be friends. I'd…I'd rather be friends than nothing."
Blaise relaxed into the couch, his expression one of amused despair, shaking his head. "Oh man, oh man. You are playing a dangerous game."
Draco surfaced from the pool of his thoughts. "What?"
Blaise shot him a knowing glance. "You don't just like her. You know that, right?"
Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"
Blaise sighed, scrubbing his face inelegantly, muttering to himself. "OK, let's try it another way. What do you like about her?"
Draco made a face. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Draco sighed, staring at the ceiling again. It was decorated with art deco plaster sculpting that depicted stars, gilt in silver, and in the dim light of the room and the flicker of the firelight it was looking up at the night sky. "Well. She's…not who I thought she was. I mean, she is smart – incredibly smart, she is a bookworm. But that's not all she is. She's fast and witty…she sees things that other people don't. She doesn't care what people think…she's just…she's just her. Just Hermione Granger. And she's brave, kind of in that stupid Gryffindor way, but it's because she cares. I…I don't really get why. She cares a lot. I think it's what drives her. And she's powerful. Like, we always knew she was the best in our year, but…I don't think I ever actually realised." Awe coloured Draco's soft tones, a reverence and respect in them that Blaise had never heard before. "Maybe even she doesn't really realise just how incredible she is. It's like she doesn't even think about it. And she's always pushing herself, doing something. Trying the impossible. I haven't seen it before. In anyone."
Draco bathed in the thoughts that he'd had but not yet had a chance to speak out loud. Never yet dared to even let himself fully process or think. He felt immensely lighter for speaking them, and almost forgotten that Blaise was there, eyes fixed on the gilt plasterwork above, possibilities spinning through his mind like shooting stars across the milky way.
"And obviously she's beautiful and funny, and relaxing to be around. It's kind of crazy how soothing it can be. And she's ruthless too. I don't think any of us ever realised that in school. She wasn't just the smartest, she has so much drive and ambition, to help people and do things, and she'll do what she has to to make it. Even if it scares her. Even if it seems hopeless. She just doesn't give up. I don't know how she does it."
Draco lapsed into silence.
"Well…" Blaise raised his eyebrows, stretching. "I shotgun best man."
Draco snarled, snapping out of his reverie. "Don't be stupid." He leapt to his feet, marching over. "Get up, Blaise."
"What? You're really going to kick me out for that?"
"No. Just get up, you moron."
"All right, all right." Blaise swung his legs off the couch, and stood.
Draco immediately put out his hand. "Swear you won't tell her. Or Potter. An Unbreakable Vow. She can't know. They can't know. Not yet."
"Draco. Mate…you really don't need–"
"Swear it!"
Blaise took in Draco's expression, almost feverish with urgency and fear, and nodded. Putting out his hand, and taking out his wand.
Each of them put their wand tips against their clasped hands, Draco intoning the words of the vow, Blaise repeating after him, the tongues of flame bursting forth to wrap their hands with their burning chains.
As the last of the spell took, the flames burning bright enough to sear an imprint on their retinas before fading, Draco let out a breath. He released the death grip he'd maintained.
"Thanks."
"No worries, man." Blaise tucked his wand away and sat back down, draining the last of his glass and pouring another. "You know that was completely unnecessary, right?"
Draco sighed, eyes closed, fighting the frown that was attempting to set his expression. "I know. I just–"
"Needed to make sure."
"Yeah."
"Don't worry about it. I won't take it personally." Blaise flicked his wand at Draco's discarded glass, and it zoomed across the room to alight on the coffee table in front of him. He refilled it, pressing the glass into Draco's hand.
Together they downed their glasses in one.
Draco turned back to him, sitting again as well. "Thank you, Blaise. I mean it."
Blaise nodded with a faint smile. "Anytime." He knocked back the last of his glass. "And as for the girl, I think I have a plan. Just don't be this stupid again."
Hope lit in Draco's eyes for a moment before he nodded fervently. "Don't worry. I've learnt my lesson."
Blaise grinned.
Harry unrolled his copy of the evening edition of the Prophet. The headlines blared various iterations of the story about Draco, cast alternately in the role of protective or possessive boyfriend, going after the scurrilous reporters to avenge his girlfriend's reputation. In some instances there were even interviews with the terrified photographers, and another with the impassive editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly. There were columns about the recall of the magazine, covering the topic from every angle possible, and of course all other attendant speculation.
"Well, looks like Draco did a good job of it." He said, passing the paper over to Hermione. "Although I feel like the reporters are going to be swarming at your place."
Hermione sighed. "Just another evening of fun." She scanned the pages. "I very much doubt Draco ever set that man's pants on fire."
"No, but I did threaten to." Draco's silky tones entered the room at the same time as their owner. He had a faint grin.
Privately, Draco's heart was pounding, the knowledge of what he had told Blaise beating inside his brain like a bludger that had been let loose. It was a new thing to come face to face with Hermione after finally being able to say those words, to really own the thoughts that he'd valiantly been trying to ignore, but he had taken the rest of the afternoon to sober up and get his thoughts in order. Whatever he felt didn't matter. It was the job that mattered. He just had to stay professional until afterwards. Then…who knew. But until then, his mind would stay on track, even if that meant wrestling it into line every day.
Hermione glanced up to meet his gaze, an eyebrow raised. "I think you enjoyed doing that."
Draco tilted his head from side to side. "Maybe."
"Is there a reason why you're back at the Ministry again?" Her expression was more amused than anything else. "They'll start to wonder whether I get any work done, and I'm not sure if an enquiry into the efficiency of Ministry workers is the kind of distraction we want."
"Given what was in those photographs, I think everyone will be guessing more than a few things," Draco murmured.
Harry flushed. "Er, if there's nothing important, I might go now. Ginny's expecting me for dinner."
"Nothing from my end," Draco said.
Hermione shot Draco a remonstrating look, but smiled apologetically to Harry. "Yes, of course. Don't let us hold you up, Harry. Have a lovely evening."
Harry swept his wand at his briefcase, a slew of papers untidily pouring into it, and made for the door. "Night, Hermione. Night, Malfoy."
"Evening, Potter."
Hermione waited until the door closed behind Harry before she turned back to Draco. "You need to stop embarrassing him like that."
"Because you disapprove, or some other reason?"
Hermione frowned. "Harry's always been awkward around that sort of thing. And I know you can tell."
Draco's expression relaxed. "Oh fine, all right, yes I can tell. You wouldn't find something like that amusing at all, I suppose."
Hermione gave him a look.
"Of course not, silly me." Draco gave himself a joking slap on the wrist.
Hermione sighed, shaking her head, although she was smiling faintly. "Why are you here, Draco?"
"Well, as I wasn't able to take you to lunch, I thought I'd take you to dinner."
Hermione smiled tiredly. "That's very thoughtful, Draco. Thank you."
Draco eyed her expression. "But…you don't feel up to going out?"
"Well…not really." Hermione gave him an apologetic glance. "More I just don't want to have to deal with any more reporters."
"Ah."
Hermione nodded.
"Well…you could always come back to mine for dinner. The reporters won't be able to get near it at all. I've put repelling charms on the building. And it's just something casual. I mean. Unrelated to the case…stuff." He waved a hand between the two of them, vaguely indicating the pretence. "You won't have to pretend."
Hermione's eyes widened for a moment, then her expression softened. "That would actually be really lovely."
Draco smiled.
Draco showed himself to be surprisingly adept in the kitchen. Hermione had first flooed home to change into something more comfortable, not even daring to take a peep through the net curtains to check on the reporters by her front gate, and then joined Draco at his apartment. She had found him in the kitchen, aproned with his sleeves rolled up, and was provided with a glass of light white wine on arrival, then directed to a barstool to sit whilst Draco moved about the kitchen, clearly comfortable in what he was doing.
Hermione glanced around as various food items were chopped and marinated under Draco's supervision. "Where's Dilly?"
"Oh, it's her evening off." Draco was digging around in the fridge – one of the surprising Muggle contraptions he had in his house.
Hermione blinked, glass stopped halfway to her mouth. She was still in that position when he turned around.
"What?"
"Evening off?"
"Yes?"
Hermione closed her mouth. "Never mind."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You thought I wouldn't follow the law you wrote?"
"No, it's not that," Hermione backtracked quickly, feeling herself flush. "It's just…I just. It's still surprising to me. I mean, I've spoken with Dilly, I know you treat her well, and that you did before the laws were even implemented. I know she loves working for you. It's just…I guess still a bit of a surprise, after Dobby."
Draco's expression cleared, and although his tone remained light, his face tightened very slightly. "Dobby was always my father's elf. I might not have been as good to Dilly as a child as I am now, but I never subscribed to my father's type of…treatment."
Hermione nodded, quickly taking another sip of her wine, and feeling the glow of embarrassment in her cheeks.
"It's fine. I get it."
"Sorry."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be."
The meal he prepared was relatively simple – just crisply fried salmon with garlic and dill, scalloped potatoes, and a pile of sauteed vegetables, with a bowl of freshly cut sugared strawberries afterwards – but delicious all the same. They ate in the glass breakfast room at Hermione's suggestion, the bright kitchen lights turned low so that they could see the faint shadows of the garden, and just make out the brighter pinpricks of the stars above. The wizarding wireless played gentle orchestral strains in the background.
It was nice to be able to have a normal meal. Every time they had eaten together at Monte Rosa or since then, there had been the pretence hanging over them, the knowledge that eyes were on them and the performance had to be immaculate. With the burden of that lifted, and their privacy secure, it was pleasant just to be, and whilst their conversation wasn't normally stilted, both felt a little more at ease, and a little more genuine.
"Do you collect wine then?" Hermione was examining the three bottles on the table, one for each part of the evening. They'd each had no more than a glass or so from each one, and although she was no light-weight, she could feel the warm contentment spreading through her, pleasantly buzzed.
Draco tilted his head from side to side. "A little. Collect to drink."
"My dad has books and books on it all. I've never managed to get the hang of the tasting and whatnot. Either you like it or you don't."
Draco laughed. "I can't believe you've admitted to not enjoying a book on something."
Hermione flushed. "It has been known to happen. Chess. Flying."
Draco raised his brows.
"I suppose you like chess. I know you like flying."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but yes, I do." He gave her an apologetic smile.
Hermione waved it away. "Don't be sorry. I'm used to it."
"I could teach you, if you like?"
Hermione laughed. "Harry and Ron have tried to no avail with chess. And I'm afraid I just don't trust brooms."
"Therein lie your problems." Draco tilted his glass towards her to point. "Brooms can sense whether you trust them. You just need to be with the right rider. And as to chess." He shrugged. "You need the right teacher."
Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm sure Ron wouldn't like to hear you say he was a bad teacher."
Draco smirked.
"Perhaps I will let you try. One day."
Draco grinned. "One day."
Hermione restrained a smile, meeting Draco's gaze. His eyes were intense, the grey darkened with the low light, his pupils large. She blinked, lost in them for a few seconds, feeling the warmth rising in her cheeks, then jolted out as he suddenly turned away.
"You're absolutely right, of course." Draco continued airily. "About wine tasting. If you like a particular vintage, then that's all you really need to know. But there is some satisfaction in trying to taste what is meant to be there in the flavour."
Hermione turned her gaze back out to the garden, forcing her voice to stay light. Something was making her mind giddy and it definitely wasn't the alcohol. "Hm. I see your point."
"What are your thoughts on port?"
"I've never tried it."
"Shall we adjourn to the sitting room for a nightcap then?"
"Why not."
Draco got up, leading the way, and Hermione took the opportunity to wave her hands at her face, trying to cool her cheeks.
The port was another sweet vintage, rich and floral in flavour, and they sipped from their tiny glasses, sitting on the settee watching the fire. Hermione had slipped off her shoes and sat with her legs curled up under her as they chatted, the firelight catching in her curls when she laughed, one hand idly carding through her hair.
The large hand of the grandfather clock steadily counted down the evening as they mulled over things, covering topics all the way from potion ingredients to how a wizarding house could be wired for selective electricity, both enjoying the relief of being able to talk about normal, everyday topics.
Eventually the clock chimed midnight.
Hermione's eyelids had grown heavy, and Draco stood, collecting her empty glass as she stifled a yawn, waving away her protests that she would help with the washing up. He knew that with anyone else for company he'd have succumbed to the exhaustion of the day hours ago.
"Don't be ridiculous. A spell can be left to do it all."
"If you…if you insist…" Hermione covered her hand as a full-blown yawn escaped her, blinking sleepily.
"I do. I'll be back in a minute."
It was the work of seconds to collect up the dishes in the kitchen and dining room and set them to washing themselves, but even so when Draco returned it was to find Hermione with her head on her arms, curled up and leaning on the arm of the settee, already asleep.
Draco shook his head a little, smiling, and squatted down beside her. "Hey. Hey, Granger. Wake up." He touched her shoulder gently, but she only gave a sleepy murmur. "Come on, Hermione. It's time for you to go home."
She shifted a little, burrowing her face into her arm, but remained asleep.
Draco sighed, glancing over to the clock, and then shrugged. It was late. Whatever day he'd had, she was clearly just as tired.
He adjusted his position, then carefully slid his arms in under her, supporting her legs and upper body, and lifted her clear of the settee as he stood, turning and carrying her away towards the stairs. He had plenty of guest rooms. Dilly turned them down every morning, and stripped and cleaned the sheets every week, despite the fact that he rarely ever had guests.
It was a little tricky to manage the lights with no hands for his wand, but he knew the layout of his house well, and was careful not to catch her feet on anything. The skylight in the stairwell helped a good deal, the white shaft of moonlight making the house glow and throwing light into the shadowy corners. The door to the guest room upstairs was somewhat harder, however, but it was only a slight struggle with some small readjustments, during which her arms had shifted to hook around his neck.
It was the blue room, filled with cool tones, the covers on the bed a navy velvet, with a fan design stitched into them, mimicking the scalloped headboard. Draco bent over, mindful of his back, and attempted to release Hermione onto the covers. Her arms tightened around his neck.
"Hermione. You can let go," he murmured.
No response. He tried to duck his head out from what gap remained, but there wasn't quite enough space to do so without accidentally wedging himself in a very compromising position.
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up, ignoring the uncomfortable bent position he was in, to try and unlatch her fingers. Each time he released one hand, the other would adjust. He went through the whole process at least five times before he finally stopped, defeated. The woman was like a limpet.
Draco huffed. In what little light there was, he could see a faint frown between her brows, her lips set in a determined fashion despite the fact that she truly was asleep. He sighed. It was clear there would be no escaping. He smothered a yawn of his own, his whole body wracked with the shudder of it.
To hell with it, I'm tired.
Carefully, he scooped her up again, shuffling her across the bed to make space for himself, and clambering in after her. The moment he lay down, her hold relaxed, shifting more comfortably around his neck and chest, and he was just able to tug the covers over them both before, he, too, succumbed to sleep.
So I had a LOT of fun writing this chapter. I think we can all agree a direct confession of feelings from one of them was absolutely due haha! And who better than to extract it from Draco than Blaise? I still have so much enjoyment writing Blaise. Yes, he is a womaniser. But also he does respect women. There are vague reasons I've concocted for why, but they're not going to come into this story because they're not really relevant. Regardless, a very fun character to bring in!
And what about Draco's final acknowledgement of his feelings? He is very conflicted, poor man. But it wouldn't be a slow burn if he wasn't! Following his confession he is definitely much more aware of his feelings and not wanting to screw things up during the charade so that he still might stand a chance of something more than friendship with Hermione after. It's taken him this long to stop denying and pretending he doesn't feel this way, he's not going to jeopardise his chances now. And he's extremely lucky to have someone like Blaise who is sufficiently unscrupulous to help out as regards the loose end of the blonde witch.
Hermione, of course, is just so completely oblivious to what's gone down. As much as it may be seen as a lapse in her usual perceptiveness, I think she, just as much as Draco, is very much inside her own head - about her feelings as well as just in dealing with all the troubles of the case. But things are hotting up!
Thank you all for being so patient and waiting the extra month for updates! I appreciate it so much, and it's always so exciting to be able to bring you all a new chapter! Reading all the lovely comments always makes it so worthwhile to know that you're all enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
In terms of a wee update from me - my city is no longer under lockdown after 111 days of a really strict one, which is amazing! We've managed to have 0 new COVID cases or deaths for two weeks, which is huge, and although we do still have restrictions, life is reaching a new kind of normal. I know I said I would be trying to update for every month through lockdown, but even though my lockdown has ended, I am still going to try keep updating (now on the new chapter every two months schedule, although I will try to get one in for December because yay Christmas!). I know that even though lockdown is over here, for many of you you're still experiencing lockdown or living in places with high COVID cases, and I hope that chapter updates can be something nice to look forward to amongst everything going on.
So thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! And stay safe out there!
Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)
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You can also find me on my blog, where I post about writing! ( .com).
