A/N: This chapter is unbetaed and unedited, so please forgive any mistakes!
xoxo, carmen
The air was finally starting to lighten – in terms of the weather as well as between himself and Granger. Winter was slowly starting to melt away and the harsh chill of the Scotland highlands was dissipating with every beam of sunlight that cut through the clouds.
Hogwarts' next Hogsmeade weekend was fast approaching, and a few weeks had passed since his conversation with Potter. There had been whispers between the two of them, hushed voices and transfigured notes passed in the hallways between classes. Things were finally starting to look up, and the Order – Lupin and Shacklebolt, mostly – seemed to buy what he was trying to sell them.
So far, it seemed he was in the clear. But he still had appearances to keep up. He could never quite tell who exactly was watching, or who may be a rat.
And so, they had to keep selling it. Luckily, it wasn't truly a ruse anymore – at least not to him. He still wasn't fully sold that Granger felt the same way or if she was playing into it to save his ass.
Regardless, he was taking her to Hogsmeade this coming weekend. Granted, they'd made a splash at the Anti-Valentine's day party last month, but they needed to confirm the rumors, the speculation.
"Granger," he asked her lowly during one of their study sessions. "Do you, uh," he stumbled slightly over his words, "want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
She met his eyes, and he could see the surprise in them, even as a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. "Draco Malfoy, are you asking me on a date?"
"Well, it would make sense, would it not?" he chided. "We have a point to make if we plan on keeping my cover intact." Draco had instinctively bristled at her question, and she could sense it immediately.
Rolling her eyes, Granger said, "Relax, Malfoy. It's not like I would have said no." His heart skipped a beat as she laughed. "We need to keep some semblance of normalcy during all of this. So yes, of course I'll go with you."
He let out a quick breath of relief – one he didn't let her see.
Truth be told, he was extremely skeptical of Montague. His fellow Slytherin had raised more suspicion than he'd ever been capable of. He knew there was something off about him. And sure, maybe he was just really creepy. Or he was hitting on Granger and going about it in all the wrong ways.
Regardless, he wasn't going to take any chances about the matter.
Although, if Draco were being honest with himself (which really, was he ever?) he would have told himself that it was because he was a possessive fucker who didn't want him anywhere near his Granger.
But deep down, he knew that he just wanted to tell everyone that she was his. Undeniably, indisputably his. She had been since that first night in the classroom. Somehow, she'd snuck her way into his soul, staining it with her presence. And ever since then, he'd found that he hadn't wanted her gone, not really. Not after everything.
And so, he found himself in his dorm with Theo and Blaise, frantically stressing over what to wear that weekend.
"It will still be chilly," Blaise said logically. "It's early March. There's still snow on the ground. You're going to have your heavy robes on anyway, so why does it matter what you have on underneath?"
"Blaise!" Theo said, shocked, from his bed. "You know that the chances of Draco being a gentleman are very high. The odds of him giving her a part of his outerwear in order to keep her warm is more likely to happen than you give him credit for." Theo shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you think so low of our boy. Clearly I didn't raise you well at all," he said. Blaise's left eyebrow was raised in a universal what the fuck gesture.
Theo hopped up from his bed, walked over to Draco, and placed his hands on his shoulders. "But you," he said, "I raised you just fine."
Draco stared into his friend's eyes for a moment before wrapping his hands around his wrists and shoving his arms away. "Get off me, you wanker."
As his eyes flicked between his two friends as they bit back laughter, he realized how much he really did cherish them. It wasn't like him to be so conscious of his feelings and what he needed out of life, but maybe Granger had made him a little soft. And he still did use her Christmas gift quite often...
Yes, it was definitely all her.
It only took a split second of direct eye contact with Theo for the three of them to erupt into laughter. His first instinct was that it was the ugliest kind – complete with snorting, gasping, and tears running down the cheeks. But after further consideration, how could something that signified so much joy ever be construed as ugly or undesirable?
Maybe he really did need to rethink some things.
After they'd all calmed down and landed on an outfit for him, he was off to Gryffindor tower to collect his Granger.
And when she emerged from the portrait with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, he realized that the rest of the world really could go to hell, himself included. Seeing her like this, near incandescent with how genuinely excited she was to see him, Draco could no longer deny that he was parading her around, claiming her as his, just to put on a front. No, he wanted everyone to know it.
It surprised him how okay he was with that. Selfishly, he knew that it would appease all the right people – the Dark Lord, for one, Snape, his father, and whoever else knew about his mission. It would also piss off a lot of people, and as much as this year had changed him, he was still someone who found a strange sense of satisfaction in making irrelevant people angry.
"Hi," she breathed, stopping in front of him and looking up happily.
"Hi back," he said, the sweet words rolling off his tongue easily, although he'd never uttered something so cheesy in this lifetime.
"You ready to go?" she asked as he stared down at her. He didn't realize how long he'd been staring at her silently until she hesitantly followed up with, "Unless... you're rethinking the whole situation?"
Snapping out of it, he reached up to gently push a curl away from her face. "Sorry, Granger," he shot a crooked smile at her. "Sometimes I just like to look at you until I forget all of my problems. Yes, I'm ready."
She hummed happily as she took his arm, her eyes crinkling with the intensity of her smile. "Okay then," she said, "let's knock 'em dead."
Draco stopped in his tracks, tightening his hold on her. "What... that wasn't exactly part of the plan, Granger." He was beginning to panic slightly. Had he missed something during their meeting? Had there been an Order missive he'd overlooked? Had there been a code in them that he'd missed?
A giggle shook him out of his thoughts. "No, silly," she laughed. "It's a Muggle phrase. A hypothetical. It means to impress or surprise people. We will not be committing homicide today, I promise. Don't worry."
Relief flooded through him. "Oh. Okay. Well, good," he coughed, trying to brush off how ridiculous he felt.
They didn't make small talk on their way to Hogsmeade. The beauty of it was that they didn't need to. It was hard to be comfortable in silence with somebody, but he was with her.
Entering the village with her arm wrapped firmly around his arm almost immediately attracted attention and whispers. Her grip tightened as she felt eyes start to look their way, and Draco bent down to kiss the top of her head in reassurance. "Second guessing yourself, Granger?" he teased. "Wouldn't surprise me if you never wanted to be seen with me in the first pla–"
He was abruptly cut off by the feeling of her small hand yanking him down by his collar and kissing him firmly on the lips.
His surprise was quickly overtaken by satisfaction. Leaning into her, he moved his hand to tilt her jaw up and sweep it around the curve of her face. For a moment, he lost himself in the sensation of kissing her and forgot where he was. By the time he came back, he could hear the whispers, see the way people were reacting to them. Granger was panting, her eyes flitting around wildly as she looked around.
As if realizing that she'd just sunk the last nail into her coffin.
Clearing her throat, she blushed heavily, taking his hand in hers. But he could see the smile on her face, and he was positive that he was sporting a matching one. He tugged her in the direction of the bookstore – she really was an easy witch to please, deep down – but his path was almost immediately blocked by a body.
Shock overtook him as he automatically pushed Granger slightly behind him. His wand was in hand before he could think, and his voice was icy as he greeted the unwelcome guest. "McLaggen."
"Malfoy," he said, aiming to echo his chill, but not being able to match the generations of practice.
"What is it you need, McLaggen. If you can't already tell, your timing is shite, seeing as I'm currently trying to take my girlfriend on a date." His tone was bored, blasé, as if he weren't boiling on the inside. He still hadn't forgotten the whole stunt that Granger had pulled a few months ago.
As if she could read his thoughts, Granger almost seemed to shrink behind him.
"Girlfriend?" McLaggen actually seemed surprised. "You two?" He pursed his lips before doubling over and bursting into laughter. Draco's eyes narrowed. "Malfoy, and Granger? Merlin, that's a good one," he said, punching him in the arm. As he wiped his eyes, he met Draco's gaze, and he was not amused. "Wait... you're serious?"
"Do you see the way she's behind me?" Draco drawled slowly, "In order to avoid you? Yes, of course I'm serious."
McLaggen let out a short laugh, nearly a bark, as he took in the information. "I see. And how long has this been going on?" he countered, raising an eyebrow as if to intimidate the pair.
"I fail to see how this is any of your business," came his reply. Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, Granger, let's go." He started walking around his obstruction, tugging her gently behind him.
But McLaggen wasn't done. "Really, Granger? Draco Malfoy?" he spit the surname with all the malice he could muster. "I knew you were a gold-digging slag, but I didn't realize you'd want to be a Death Eater whore."
Draco stilled, letting go of Granger's hand. "What did you say to her?" he asked, as he slowly turned back around, daring the moron to say it once more.
"I said," he said, puffing out his chest and pointing his finger at Hermione. "That she's a Death Eater whore."
Draco took a slow step forward, rolling up his sleeves and putting his wand in his coat pocket. "That's what I thought," he said slowly. "I just wanted to make sure I heard you correctly. You know, before."
Now McLaggen looked confused. "Before what?"
"Before I did this." Lunging forward, he balled his hand up into a face and punched him right across the face. McLaggen went down easily, and Draco hit him only once more, hard enough to knock him out. He'd known there would be no fight there – the boy was all talk. Not to mention, he didn't want to cause too much damage to himself.
Panting and pulling back before he did irreversible damage, he inspected his knuckles. He was sure they'd bruise later. But it took another moment before he realized that the buzzing in his ears was really people talking around him. Turning back around, he took in Hermione's wide eyes and gaping jaw. Shit.
He'd somehow managed to fuck up their first date.
Fantastic. He really did deserve his own place in Hell.
"I suspect you already know why you're here."
Did he ever. But this time, there were a few options that came to mind. So he chose to answer with an easy, "I do." Concise, vague. Good.
"We seem to be lucky enough to have not one, but two orders of business today," Snape continued. At his words, Draco automatically tested his Occlumency walls. "First, we have the matter of what occurred in Hogsmeade this past weekend with... Mr. McLaggen."
Draco wanted to shift in his seat, but he knew that would simply make him look guilty. "Ah. Yes. Mr. McLaggen decided to use harsh language against my girlfriend," he took a purposeful pause after the word, "so I decided he needed to be properly reprimanded." He hoped his response would appease Snape as to the inevitable second half of this conversation.
As predicted, he caught on to the only part of the sentence that mattered. "Girlfriend. Hm." He steepled his fingers and continued. "So, regarding that matter of business, I presume that all is going well?" Draco didn't like the way he said it so clinically. Order of business. He internally scoffed.
But outwardly, Draco only nodded, wanting this extraordinarily painful conversation to end as soon as humanly possible. "We're well on schedule. I see this shaping up very nicely." His words were dry in his throat, his sky flickering on the back of his eyelids as he fought to control his composure.
Snape hummed noncommittally, as if he didn't buy into what Draco was saying. His beady eyes flickered up and down, as if giving him a once over would somehow reveal to him the truth of his actions. "I trust you have it all in hand then," he said after a beat too long. If there was one thing Draco could count on, it was that Snape did love the dramatics.
Biting back a sigh – because he suspected that Snape still thought he was lying – he cocked a brow. "Now that that's settled – can I go now?" he asked. His meetings with his godfather were often short and to the point, which suited him just fine.
Breaking eye contact, Snape waved a hand in the air. "Go. I do believe you have a Potions essay to be working on..."
As soon as Draco turned away, he rolled his eyes, only turning back at the door to say, "Of course, my essay is already done, Professor. No need to worry."
Obviously, he hadn't even started it, but Snape didn't need to know that.
Hermione sat down next to him. And for a second, Draco had to look around to make sure he was where he thought he was – in the Great Hall, eating dinner at the Slytherin table. He choked on his soup. "Granger," he spluttered. "What are you doing here?" His voice was full of shock.
"Well, it's public information that we're together now, isn't it?" she asked, paying no mind to the stares coming her way. She smirked conspiratorially and leaned in closer to him, "And I just wanted to get everyone's reaction when I sat down next to a Malfoy at the Slytherin table. I doubt a Gryffindor has sat here... ever." She pulled away, sipping her tea and looking at him over the rim of the cup.
Theo piped up from across from Draco. "Mate, I don't know if it's been said already, but I like her. Can we keep her?"
Draco shot a look at his best friend. "I plan to," he said simply, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her in closer as she giggled and flushed a pretty pink.
Dinner passed with Theo and Blaise butting in every thirty seconds with, "Weasley is looking over here and his jaw is on the floor. No, really, it is!"
Blaise retorted with, "Why would he be surprised? He knows about everything."
"I don't know, I just don't think he ever saw something like this happening," Theo's eyes shifted to look at his friends. "Do you think he thinks there's more going on than what we told him? Like... what if he thinks all four of us are a couple? Wait, that wouldn't be a couple – would that be a fourple? What do you even call that?"
"Theo!" said all three of them at once, cutting him off.
"Do you know how to think inside your brain?" Draco quipped.
"No," Theo, Blaise, and Hermione said at the same time.
"A Muggle-born once told me there was no way I didn't have ADHD," Theo said. "I had no idea what that meant, so I looked into it. I'm pretty sure I do," he paused. "Hey, wanna see what I learned to do this weekend?"
Hermione barked a laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth. Unable to stifle her giggles, they slipped through the cracks and spilled into the air. "That– makes so much sense," she said around laughter.
Blaise and Draco seemed confused, but Theo brought them back when he said, "There!" and placed a small, origami crane on the table. "His name is Frank," he said.
Disbelief colored the group's faces as they looked at it. "What is that?" Blaise asked.
"An Origami crane. It's a way of folding that I found in a random library book last week. It's really fun. It said that if you make a thousand of them, it brings good luck." He pushed it across the table so they could see it.
Hermione picked it up, twisting it so she could see it from all angles. "Huh, this is actually pretty impressive Theo. It looks fairly well done for a beginner." She put it down, smiling at him. "You should teach me how to make them sometime."
A groan came from her right side. "No, Granger, don't encourage him. Just wait for him to find a new hobby, and he'll move on."
Elbowing him in the side, she said, "I think it's cute. Don't be mean." Somewhere in the midst of their conversation, they'd finished dinner. So the four of them stood up and headed for the door. Draco and Theo were still bickering in the front, and Blaise leaned in and grabbed Hermione's arm to drag her back a few paces.
"I have an idea that I think would be a fun surprise."
That caught her attention. "What is it?" she asked curiously.
Blaise continued. "I'm sure it's been on your bucket list to come into the Dungeons for a slumber party, hasn't it? At least, it would be if it were me."
"Of course it would," Hermione muttered. "But... continue."
"I say we sneak you in and surprise Malfoy with it. Plus, then you get to say that you've been in our dormitory." He looked pleased with himself.
Hermione paused her train of thought, looking ahead to her boyfriend still bickering with Theo. "Yeah," she said, "Why not? Let's do it."
"Alright, so here's the plan..."
And the plan went flawlessly. It involved a bit of pumpkin juice, a boggart, a very strong Disillusionment charm, and Theo performing the monologue from Hamlet. The specifics weren't important, considering how odd the plan really was. But the important thing was that she found herself standing in the common room and looking out the windows to the Black lake.
"Oh wow," she whispered. "That is so much cooler than I imagined it would be."
"I know, isn't it?" Blaise surprised her by speaking up to her. "The first time I came in here as a first-year, I was awestruck." He fell silent. "Sometimes, it's easy to forget the simple beauty of the things we see every day. It's good to have reminders." He turned and gave Hermione a small, but genuine, smile. She couldn't help but smile back.
She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of two voices coming from what she assumed was a hallway to the dormitories. "Theo, what are– it's so late, why are you–"
"Shut up! You're going to ruin it!"
"Ruin what? You won't tell–"
Hermione looked back up at Blaise. "He really doesn't know how to take a hint, does he?"
"Which one?" came her reply.
She smirked. "Touché."
As she turned back, Draco was standing in the doorway. "Granger?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"
"Trust me," she laughed, "you don't want to know."
He started walking towards her. "With these two involved? I'm sure I don't."
"Hey!" came the protest. "We have some good ideas," Theo pouted. "Personally, I think our rating game takes the cake. Don't you think so Blaise?"
Blaise sighed. "Yeah, it's up there," he acquiesced. Draco snickered.
"What rating game?" Hermione asked with narrowed eyes. Immediately, Draco caught on and stopped laughing.
Theo, oblivious, explained. "Blaise and I will play a drinking game where we rate girls, and if we pick the same number, we have to drink. But we don't actually rate them, we just pick the same number every time so we can get drunk faster." He shrugged.
"You have not!" she exclaimed, astounded. Not that Hermione would ever admit it out loud, but she thought that was actually pretty funny. "Do you understand why that's so objectifying?"
"But we're not actually rating them!" Theo protested. "We always pick seven!"
"It's still inherently wrong, Theo, do you understand why?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Because rating women implies that they exist for our viewing pleasure and that they do everything for men and that's wrong and we shouldn't do it because women are their own entities," he muttered like a toddler in trouble.
"That's right," she said, pleased. Then her demeanor changed, and she wheeled on Draco. "Did you know about this?" Theo and Blaise, sensing a storm brewing, took advantage of the lapse and darted away.
"Well, yes, but I never played," he held his hands up in defense. "I knew it was a stupid excuse to get drunk faster, so I never interfered."
"Hmm," she said, stepping forward and running her hands across his shoulders. "I think," she cocked her head, "that we need to teach you why that's not such a good idea."
He got the message, pulling her backwards in the direction of his room. "Oh yeah?"
She pushed him back so they disappeared through the doorway that was his dormitory. "Yeah."
They hurried into bed, closing the curtains and silencing the space around them. Yanking their clothes off and casting the charm, she wasted no time before sinking down onto him. "Missed this," he breathed, bucking his hips up into her. "Missed you."
Her head tipped back on a whine. "Stop moving," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm in control. This is a punishment, remember?"
Draco stilled his hips, letting her take her pleasure from him. He showered her with encouragement. His voice sunk into her brain and made her shiver, sending a thrill between her legs and tightening her nipples.
"Come on, a little faster for me."
"Good girl, you look so pretty up there."
"Look at you, playing with yourself as you ride me. That's it, clench around my cock."
"Fuck, come on baby, please."
She had half a mind to silence him, but she did love his dirty talk more than most things on the planet. And when she came, she squeezed him tight. After giving him permission, he flipped her over, fucking her into the mattress hard before spilling into her.
"Do you understand why what you did was wrong?" she panted.
"Depends. If I say no, will you punish me like that again?" She shoved him in the shoulder weakly as they cuddled closer together.
Their breaths slowed as they came back to themselves. Even though she knew she was safe, comfortable, and almost half-asleep, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that joined in with her post-coital bliss. As Hermione drifted deeper into sleep, she gripped his left arm tightly, her finger subconsciously tracing the lines of the Mark she knew to be underneath his shirt.
