The warmth from the restaurant was almost like a stinging slap to Hermione's face. She hadn't realized until that very moment that the September evening air had dramatically chilled, being so wrapped up in Draco's presence at her side, as it were. She flexed her right hand then, finding a strange comfort in the way his strong fingers were so carefully entwined with her own. But he must have taken it to mean something else entirely, tugging his hand free of her grip to run it nervously through his hair.
He was nervous.
Hermione swallowed. She was nervous.
She twisted her hands together, her gaze flitting around the crowded restaurant in urgency. She tried to take a breath but when she exhaled, it came out a shaky gasp. Her chest tightened as her cheeks flushed scarlet. Oh sweet Merlin, she realized, now was most certainly not the time for a panic attack.
She tried to breathe in slowly, pressing her fingers to her reddened face, the coolness of her fingertips almost comforting like a cold compress against her flushed skin. She would like to blame it on the contrast of the overcrowded eatery and the cool outside air, but she had a strange suspicion it had little to do with that and more to do with the overwhelming uneasiness she felt about this evening's festivities.
Hermione Granger… Gryffindor's Golden Girl… willing to face down Death Eaters at the tender age of sixteen without so much as a modicum of fear…
A war heroine (she hated that word) who confronted the Dark Lord himself on the battlefield of Hogwarts, never thinking twice about the sacrifices she may have had to make to ensure Voldemort's ultimate demise…
She scoffed inwardly. Death Eaters and Dark Lords… fighting against such evil was one thing…
But facing down a pack of lions with her newly acquired snake of a boyfriend... Well, that was something else entirely.
Boyfriend...
Her pulse jumped. A new sheen of sweat broke out over her palms.
Boyfriend...
A word she never thought she'd use so freely in the same sentence as Draco Lucius Malfoy...
There it was again – that sharp pain in her chest. Was the room somehow getting smaller?
Boyfriend...Boyfriend...Boyfriend...
A foreign-sounding word in her vocabulary… second only to the word husband...
As if on cue, her fingers covered the heavy diamond on her left ring finger, twisting it around and around in a distinct show of nervousness. She tried to swallow, but her throat suddenly felt thick.
Inhale…exhale….inhale…exhale…
Oh god…oh god…oh god…oh god…
Her hand moved to her chest, a sudden heaviness settling deep in her lungs that she was positive she would surely suffocate before managing another breath.
She was only dimly aware of the shifting movement beside her until suddenly she was being turned and dragged into Draco's embrace. His left hand splayed against the small of her back while his right settled on her cheek, his long fingers cupping her face and tilting her to look up at him.
"Deep breaths, Granger…" he whispered, his lips so close she could feel the hotness dance across her mouth and practically taste the cinnamon from his whiskey.
Her eyes found his – molten pools of silver staring so deep into her, she was almost certain he could see her shattered soul.
She quickly looked away, concentrating on the glow of a lamp far across the bar, just over his right shoulder. "I don't do well in large crowds, I'm afraid…" she somehow managed to mumble shakily.
Again, he tilted her to look up at him, one eyebrow cocked in disbelief.
"A s-side effect of the w-war…" came her stuttering explanation.
"And?" he coached, his arm wrapping tighter around her.
Oh god…oh god…oh god…oh god…
"And…." her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard. "And… and I've n-never done this sort of thing before…"
He snorted, "What? Have dinner with your friends?"
"More like bring a bloke to dinner with my friends… or to any social gathering whatsoever…" she replied.
Something sparked in his gaze then. "Ah…" he murmured. "Well, rest assured, Granger, if I can't win them over with my charming personality at least I'm quite pretty to look at."
She couldn't help but smile, albeit nervously, at his quip.
Again that spark lit behind his grey eyes like a bolt of lightning shredding the sky during a raging storm.
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, "There's my girl…"
Her chest constricted as her heart gave a painful squeeze. His girl… His witch… His...
Oh god…oh god…oh god…oh god…
Yes, Hermione Granger was many things – a swot… a know-it-all bookworm (insert eye roll)... war heroine (say it again for the people in the back)... brightest witch of her age….
And, here and now, unabashedly… utterly… totally… fucked.
The brave lioness… warrior and staunch defender of house elves and women's rights alike… a twentieth century Muggleborn, who fought vehemently to keep her last bit of identity while somehow volunteering to be the poster child of arranged marriage… completely undone by one simple word…
All it took was one word falling from his lips for her to finally realize she was exactly where she wanted to be in life...
His...
She inhaled and released a staggering breath. This is okay… she silently championed herself. She didn't need to be in control… she could allow him to carry some of her burden… to be her partner…
She was allowed to be...
His….
She met his gaze, noting the concern that etched his brow and crinkled around his eyes.
It's okay to need someone, Hermione, her brain reminded her.
Damn it all to hell, Harry had been right.
Her limbs relaxed, as did the pressure in her chest. She inhaled and exhaled one more time, the tightness all but abating almost as quickly as it had come.
Acceptance could be a wonderful thing… she noted.
Draco sensed it too, his hold loosening, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest on her shoulder. "Better?" he drawled.
She nodded briefly, her eyes immediately falling on his beautiful lips.
"Good," he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. And then his jaw unmistakably tightened and she watched in awe as he carefully schooled his features, suddenly sliding his mask of indifference firmly into place. He moved to step back, but she immediately stayed his retreat, her hands clasping in a death grip onto the front lapels of his jacket.
"Don't," she whispered.
He met her gaze then, his lips pressed in a grim line but there was still that fire in his eyes she was growing much too accustomed to.
She cautiously brought her left hand to his face, her fingers dancing over his cheek and across his bottom lip. "Don't use Occulmency," she pleaded softly. She leaned forward to whisper against his earlobe, "Let them see you for who you truly are..."
Draco shuddered as her warm breath tickled the tender skin there at his jawline.
She gave him one last pleading look of encouragement then released him, her palms smoothing out the wrinkles on his clothes she had made with her firm hold. But his hand reached out to grip her chin firmly, keeping her in place before him. His thumb pulled softly at her bottom lip and his stormy eyes searched hers. Hermione released another unsteady breath, the puff of air heating the pad of his thumb.
He cocked an arrogant brow. "And if I grant you this favor, what will my witch give me in return?"
Hermione froze, staring up into his molten gaze, a tell-tale smirk pulling at his lips. And she immediately melted inside. Oh Merlin... An insistent throbbing heat there, between her legs, had her clenching her thighs in anticipation.
His….
Her heart slammed in her chest, effectively drowning out the whispered internal cries of her inherent feminist nature.
She licked her lips, immediately drawing his attention to her mouth. "What does a woman give a man who has everything he could possibly want?" she replied a little too breathlessly.
"Not everything, Granger," he hurriedly responded. As if to better illustrate his point, his hand then slipped from her shoulder to settle on her waist. He jerked her towards him and she stumbled forward, her hands landing squarely on his hard chest.
"All right," she stammered, her gaze focused on where his throat met the deep V of his chest. Two could play this game… She swallowed, attempting to plaster on her most coquettish look as she slowly peered up at him through her lashes. "Name your price, Malfoy." She carefully sounded out each syllable of each word.
She could feel the growl in his chest vibrate through her, her body reacting immediately to his animalistic nature with the slick of her arousal coating her inner thighs. Her knickers clung mercilessly to her now, reminding her yet again of the power he wielded over her.
He could have fucked her when they were at her apartment. And again in the alleyway beneath the stairs. She wouldn't have stopped him. Hell, she was readily embarrassed at how little self-restraint she displayed during both of those encounters. At this rate, he probably thought her some touch-starved, virginal lunatic. An assessment she did not care to admit was much too close to the actual truth.
Well, not virginal… exactly. Nope, he remedied that fact years ago.
Lunatic… she cringed inwardly. Maybe that wasn't fair…. brightest witch of her age and all.
Touch-starved…
Well, fuck. That was hitting the nail precisely on the head, now wasn't it? She could count on one hand the number of dates she'd deigned to actually go on in the last 9 years... all of them never moving past that first awkward dinner, let alone a goodnight kiss or a decent shag.
If he only knew how he had unintentionally, practically ruined her for all other men… Well, she figured his ego was big enough already without that small tidbit of information.
Some role model for young girls she was turning out to be… she mused defiantly. But she shook it away. It was her turn to be a little selfish, she reasoned. It was her turn to finally be…
His...
She steeled her resolve and met his gaze dead on. He contemplated her words for all of two seconds before a devilish smile pulled at his lips. She swallowed thickly, her stomach twisting in the brief moment before he made his reveal.
"A kiss."
Hermione wrinkled her brow. "A kiss?" she questioned. Hmmm… not exactly what she was expecting… or hoping for was maybe the correct term.
"A kiss, Granger," he reiterated, his voice low and husky.
Her brain thrummed and whirled as she tried and failed to see beyond his simple request. "Is that the best you can do?" she challenged.
He chuckled low. "Do we have a deal or not?"
Her mental prowess shrugged while her heart continued to hammer within the confines of her chest. A kiss? Seriously? "Deal," she conceded. She stepped into him, pushing slightly up on her toes to bring her lips to his, but a quick squeeze of his fingers on her hips stilled her almost immediately.
She opened her mouth to protest but something small and heated lit within his gaze and she stopped.
He leaned in close to her, so close she could feel his hot breath against the tender skin of her neck, but not close enough he was touching her, his lips barely ghosting over the shell of her ear. "I never said anything about it being on the lips…" he whispered.
Hermione shuddered, an intense pressure suddenly building low in her belly. Was it possible to "come" just having a man whisper in your ear?
The quickening in her lower body confirmed the truth - With this man...the answer was most assuredly yes.
He took a step back, giving her one last damnable, secret smile he reserved just for her.
"Draco…" was all she could manage, his name sliding from her lips in a breathy prayer.
"There you two are!" bellowed a strong, feminine voice, completely shattering the little moment between the two of them.
Draco simply winked at Hermione, then turned, his arm sliding possessively around her waist just as the shrill sounds of the restaurant seemed to suddenly roar to life all around them.
Pansy Parkinson pushed her way through the throng of people, strolling over with the sheer confidence of a person who commanded your attention.
The words "femme fatale" immediately came to Hermione's mind as she took in the other woman's appearance – a buxom brunette clothed rather fittingly in a body-hugging, red mini-dress that gave the entire world a more than adequate display of her ample cleavage, with a skirt hem so short that it left very little to the imagination and red stiletto heels to complete the look.
The raven-haired beauty leaned in for a quick kiss to Draco's cheek, her hand laying on his shoulder with a familiarity that made the tightness in Hermione's chest return with a vengeance. These two women may have called a truce, but it didn't stop the wariness she felt in her gut watching the Slytherin exs' interact. And Hermione inadvertently found herself perhaps leaning just a little bit more into Draco's embrace than was necessary.
But if he noticed, he gave no inclination, giving Pansy a peck before returning his gaze to Hermione. He gave her his patented smirk and rolled his eyes in jest at their own private joke at Parkinson's flair for the theatrics.
Pansy joined Draco's other side, lamenting in a dramatic tone, "Thank Salazar you're finally here... Another minute of watching Potter try to make conversation with me while his wife is in the loo, and I may just have to Crucio myself... it would be less painful."
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, joining the other three, one hand holding a butterbeer while Ginny's handbag dangled from his other. "I'm a fantastic conversationalist!" He turned his attention immediately to Hermione then and leaned in, awkwardly giving her a kiss to her cheek, "Happy Birthday, 'Mione."
She returned it in kind, "Thanks, Harry." She felt Draco's hand tense briefly where it lay on her hip and she quickly glanced up at him. His jaw was locked tightly, a tick quite visible as he grinded his teeth. Perhaps she wasn't the only one with a jealous streak for lifelong friendships of the opposite sex? But as quickly as it came, suddenly it was gone and he relaxed beside her.
It helped that Harry gave him his warmest grin as he slightly inclined his head, "Malfoy."
Draco managed an all too appropriate smirk in response, "Potter." He paused, cocking his brow, "Nice purse."
Harry turned a deep shade of red, "Yeah, well… wives and all that." Then he cheekily added, "You'll learn…"
Draco snorted in disdain and Hermione quickly saw Pansy try to cover her laughter with a cough and throat clearing, unbeknownst to Draco.
"Over my dead body, Potter," Draco replied. But quickly realizing his faux pas, he turned and met her brown gaze, "Besides, Granger here would never browbeat me into being her purse wrangler. It's clearly beneath her feminist values." Again he gave her that wink.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Hermione's mouth, a whole different image of who was beneath whom playing in her mind.
Suddenly, two arms came round Hermione's middle, pulling her into a hug and away from Draco's side. With a show of reluctance, he tensed but let her go.
"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" Ginny screeched from behind her best friend, her arms tightening for a moment.
"Ginny!" came Hermione's surprised breathless reply.
The small redhead gave her one more squeeze before releasing her and joining her husband's side, taking her small purse from Harry with a quick "Thanks, babe." That's when she turned and finally acknowledged Draco with a brief nod, "Ferret-face."
Draco was slowly regaining his position by Hermione's side, his arm sliding around her waist when she felt him pause. He met Ginny's gaze and retorted, "Weaselette."
Ginny cocked her head but smirked at him without complaint. "It's Potter now."
"Not an improvement," Draco mumbled beneath his breath for only Hermione's ears and she playfully pinched him just below his ribs.
Choosing to ignore Draco, Ginny directed her gaze at the rest of them and said, "So, what did I miss?"
"Apparently Draco here just cannot wait to be under Hermione, " quipped Pansy.
Harry, who was taking a sip of his drink, sputtered as he choked on Pansy's words, coughing and getting the frothy beverage all over his wife's blue dress.
"S-sorry… love…" he muttered, haphazardly dabbing at it.
"Surprisingly not the first Potter to spit up on me today," Ginny laughed.
This earned Ginny a patented raised eyebrow from Draco before he turned to Pansy, "That's not what I meant, Pans… you're twisting my words," Draco tried.
Now he looked at Hermione, "Clearly that's not what I meant, Granger."
She tried to smile reassuringly, "Of that I have no doubt, Malfoy." She hurried on, "Besides, we'd have to clearly beat the odds if we hope to get anywhere near the years of you carrying my purse for me." She tried to be lighthearted but there was a sudden undercurrent to her words that she really didn't want to think about. She looked down at her ring almost out of instinct to find she was again twisting it around her finger nervously.
His thumb and forefinger dug into her side and she looked up. He caught her honey gaze with his eyes and held it with a wordless command, something unspoken seemingly passing between them then and there. It was extremely hard for her to look away from him when he was gazing at her with so much intensity.
Pansy gagged, once again interrupting the moment, "Bloody hell, if I have to put up with all this saccharine sweet lovey dovey rubbish all night, I'm going to need a very strong drink."
The Potters exchanged a look, cracking their own hidden smiles while they automatically stepped a little closer to each other, Harry's hand laying protectively over Ginny's growing belly.
Draco sighed resolutely before tearing his eyes away from Hermione to glare at his fellow Slytherin. "Who invited you?"
Pansy gave him a catlike grin, patting him once on his pale cheek, "You did, Draco darling…"
"Clearly I was under the influence of the Imperious Curse…."
"Clearly," Pansy agreed, winking at Hermione now.
"And while we are on the subject, Pans, what exactly are you wearing?" Draco continued.
Pansy feigned shock, giving herself the quick once over. "It's called clothes, Draco…"
"Red is not your color," he replied.
"Every color is my color, darling boy. Besides, you catch more lions with honey than with vinegar….. or something to that effect…"
"Flies," Hermione corrected before she could stop herself.
"What?"
"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar…." she finished.
"I thought it was bees…" Harry mused.
"Why would it be bees?" Ginny joined in. "Bees make honey so they wouldn't really be interested in it, now would they?"
"And I think the proverb has more to do with being polite than…." Hermione's voice trailed off.
"Dressing like a slag," Draco finished.
"Draco!" Hermione admonished.
But it didn't matter. Because Pansy Parkinson burst out laughing. "Watch yourself, Draco, or I'll wear it to your wedding," she warned, jabbing him in his side with her elbow.
"Merlin forbid…" he mumbled, giving her a playful shove.
And soon all five of them were giggling, Hermione quickly realizing that the relationship these two seemed to have was very much like her own with Harry and...
She cringed as she caught herself, her mind stuttering on the name… Ron… She pressed into Draco as a wave of sadness threatened to overwhelm her at that moment. But she chose to focus on her friends in the here and now instead of the one that was missing.
"Seriously, Pans, you're going to frighten poor Longbottom if you come on too strong…" Draco tried.
She arched one perfect brow, leveling Draco with a deadly gaze, "Not all of us have the time and patience to spend twelve years making googly eyes at our crush while silently mooning over her…"
Harry snickered.
Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "Watch it, Potter."
"Besides, why are we wasting our breath talking about my choice of outfit, when Granger here is wearing something far more interesting to chat about…." Pansy noted rather flippantly.
Hermione, who had been barely following the conversation as she worriedly twisted her engagement ring round and round her finger, froze, as all eyes turned to her. She immediately followed Pansy's gaze as it landed on the very ring she couldn't seem to stop fiddling with.
"Well, come on, let's see the damn thing," Pansy encouraged, "Draco is quite known for his good taste."
She flexed her hand before extending it in front of her, the large diamond glittering somewhat provocatively under the lamplights that hung above them.
"Holy shite, 'Mione…" Ginny exclaimed, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling it closer.
"That is… ummm… some rock…" Harry offered, his hand straying to rub the back of his neck in a nervous twitch. His green eyes flitted to Draco then, "Your birthday gift, I presume?"
Draco shrugged nonchalantly, "She deserved an engagement ring."
Pansy gave a snort, drawing Hermione's attention to her. She was eyeing Draco carefully before saying, "Do my eyes deceive me or is that the Malfoy diamond?"
Again, that shrug. "And?" He was challenging Pansy now.
But she didn't take the bait, her arms folding across her chest as she turned away from his penetrating gaze. "Just an observation," she sniffed.
"Well, whatever it is, it's absolutely stunning. Nice job, ferret-face," Ginny replied.
Draco gave a curt nod, "I'll take that as a compliment, she-weasel."
Hermione held her breath as she watched Ginny's reaction. Thankfully, she could take it as well as she dished it, smiling at Draco before glancing at Hermione and mouthing a simple Wow as she pointed at her ring.
Harry leaned in, gently hugging his best friend, "Congratulations, 'Mione. Really."
"Thank you, Harry," she murmured.
He stepped back, shrugging, before wrapping one arm around Ginny's shoulders and pulling her close. "Of course, you sure it was wise accepting jewelry from this bloke after that little incident with a certain necklace back in sixth year…." he teased.
"Hey! Standing right here!" Draco exclaimed.
Hermione laughed, "Harry James Potter!"
"Too soon?" Harry replied with faux sheepishness.
"Never speaking of sixth year is perhaps too soon…" she replied, her own hand protectively covering Draco's as it lay tenderly on her waist. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.
He squeezed back and she looked up at him just as he looked down at her for a moment. "You accidentally curse one Gryffindor and no one lets you forget it," he mumbled, playfully rolling his eyes.
"Accidentally on purpose, you mean," Harry replied.
Draco's gaze returned to Harry, "I'll have you know, Scar Head, I apologized profusely to Katie Bell years ago."
Hermione was taken aback, "Did you really?"
"Don't seem so surprised there, Granger." And he lifted her left hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss there on the back of her knuckles, close to the very ring they were discussing. What could only be called a thrill, for lack of a better word, shot through Hermione's entire body, flooding her with an undeniable heat that would linger long after he released her hand and stepped back.
She was almost thankful for Pansy's abrupt "Bored now" to drag her attention away from that seductive mouth and his knowing smirk.
Prat… Hermione thought, he knew exactly what he was doing to her insides at that very moment, she'd bet her life on it.
The other woman reached out and intertwined her fingers with Hermione's, "Come on, Granger, let's get drinks at the bar. You too, Weaselette."
Draco fisted his hand in the fabric of her dress, keeping her firmly at his side, "I'll get you a drink…"
Hermione's gaze locked with his and the storm she suddenly saw brewing in those grey eyes gave her pause. Did he not want to be left alone with Harry?
But Pansy wasn't to be deterred. "Now, now, Draco, Hermione's a big girl… she's perfectly capable of getting her own drink. Besides, we need a bit of time to talk about you boys. You just stay here and keep flirting with The Chosen One." And Pansy practically tugged her free of his grasp.
"Firewhiskey?" Hermione asked him. He raised a brow then nodded. She looked over at her oldest friend, "Anything for you, Harry?"
Potter raised the bottle in his hands, "I'm all set."
Hermione locked eyes with Harry, pleading silently with him, her head subtly nodding towards Draco.
"Don't worry, I'll be good," he replied.
"I won't," Draco responded with a sneer, but it held no malice.
With one last meaningful look at Draco, she allowed Pansy and Ginny to drag her away, leaving Harry and Draco alone with one another.
Draco shoved his hands in his trouser pockets while Harry rocked back and forth on his heels. They both systematically avoided looking at one another.
Finally, Harry couldn't stand the awkwardness any longer, relying on their shared interest in Quidditch, "So, how 'bout those Harpies?"
"Not really my team, mate," Draco answered.
"Right…." Harry drawled, again looking at his shoes while Draco's lingering gaze followed Hermione to the bar, worry etching his brow.
"So… I was there that night on the Astronomy Tower with you and Dumbledore."
Draco closed his eyes in resignation, "Of course you were, Potter."
The bar area was crowded when the three women arrived, but upon noticing Hermione, two wizards slid over to make room, nodding their heads in acknowledgment of her. She hated being recognized, even in Hogsmeade, and she pulled at the sleeves of her dress nervously as she leaned across the bar to try and get the barkeep's attention. Suddenly she felt very bereft without Draco's presence and her gaze discreetly slid over to where she had left him standing some many feet away. He was watching her right back, unabashedly staring at her with a look that could only be described as wanting.
"Relax, Granger, I'll have you back at his side as soon as we get our drinks," Pansy snarked, gesturing at the barkeep that was closest to them.
Hermione blushed deep at being caught, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she took a seat on the stool beside her as the barkeep approached.
With a huff, he crossed his burly arms across his thick chest and asked, "Help ye?"
"Two firewhiskeys and…" Pansy looked at Hermione expectantly.
"And a butterbeer," she replied.
"And one water," Ginny threw in.
"Make that 2 butterbeers, one firewhiskey and a water for the momma-to-be," Pansy reiterated.
The barkeep just mumbled an acceptance and turned to leave.
Hermione gave Pansy a questioning look to which she just shrugged, "When in Rome, do as the lions do…"
With one hand on her belly, Ginny eased herself onto the stool beside Hermione with clear exasperation, "Promise me, ladies, when this one is born, the three of us will have a night out on the town, drinking and dancing…"
"You look just about ready to pop, Weaselette," Pansy remarked.
"Still have almost 3 months left," Ginny cringed.
Pansy screwed up her face, "Three months?! By then, Granger here will be married with her own precious little bundle of slobber on the way!" Pansy cast a furtive glance in Draco's direction before continuing, "He can't let you out of his sight for more than a minute now, imagine what he'll be like when you're carrying his heir."
Hermione swallowed, fidgeting now with a napkin in her lap, daring herself NOT to look over at Draco and Harry, all the while secretly praying to anyone who would listen that the two men remained cordial. "He's… uh… he's just nervous to be alone with Harry, I think…"
"Or afraid of what I might say now that he's not within earshot…" Pansy replied off-handedly.
Hermione's head snapped up at this surprise declaration. She was suddenly distinctively reminded of the last time she told Draco she had spent time with Pansy. He had grown agitated even then.
"Oooo… intriguing," Ginny prodded, "what's got the ferret so worried, I wonder."
Pansy leaned against the bar, her eyes and smirk for Hermione alone but she said nothing.
Hermione tried to ignore the brunette's scrutinizing but it was impossible. "What, Parkinson?" she finally snapped.
Pansy's slow smile rivaled that of the cat who ate the canary, "I told you you'd be good for him."
Hermione stuttered, her heart skidding to a stop in her chest. Everything she expected the other woman to say, that wasn't it. She met Pansy's gaze then quickly looked away, "Are you laughing at me?"
Ginny quickly came to her defense, "Are you?"
"No, Granger… definitely not," Pansy admitted. She turned away from them to face the bar, "I like you, Hermione… and you, too, Weaselette. And while I hope this is the beginning of a long friendship, my loyalty, first and foremost, is and always will be with Draco."
"I'm not sure I understand…" Hermione confided.
Pansy returned her gaze to her. "My loyalty is to Draco," she reiterated, "Which is why when I tell you the effect you're having on him is a good thing, trust me, I only have his best interest at heart."
Hermione tensed.
"He's not using Occulmency…" the woman stated matter-of-factly, "Your doing, I presume."
Hermione looked away, biting her lower lip instinctively.
Pansy nodded, "Thought so. Do you even realize how that impacts his life?"
Hermione's gaze snapped to Pansy's, "I didn't force him, if that is what you're implying."
Pansy stiffened in defense, quickly replying, "Don't misunderstand me, Granger… no one… not me… not Zabini or Nott… not even Narcissa have been able to accomplish such a feat since before the war. Yet here he is, surrounded by all you lions but so relaxed…. He's almost like his old self again…you know, without all the blood prejudice and evil doing…." She sighed, "I'm just saying we snakes owe you a debt of gratitude..."
"Y-you don't owe me anything… I'm not sure I can even take credit..." Hermione stammered with uncertainty.
Pansy sighed dramatically, "You Gryffindors are always down playing your good deeds...It's bloody annoying," she paused, searching for her next words, "You comfort him, Granger…"
Hermione was extremely thankful in that moment to be sitting down because her knees grew weak at Pansy's words. She smiled softly, her gaze landing in her lap as she shredded that blasted napkin nervously. She comforted him…
Her thoughts immediately strayed to her panic attack when they first arrived at the restaurant. He hadn't been irritated or put off… No, he had comforted her… and she could still feel the phantom heat of his fingers splayed against her back even now.
She couldn't help it, she glanced over at him. Harry seemed to be adamantly describing something to him, accompanied by wild hand gestures, but, as if he could sense her perusal, Draco turned his head in her direction, catching her gaze and giving her a wink.
Her entire body flamed like fire personified, flames of desire licking her inside and out. She crossed her legs instinctively, thinking that might soothe the ache between her thighs but it only served to make her knickers cling to her core even tighter. Fucking silk…
She suddenly realized Pansy was still talking and she turned back to the other witch. Pansy refused to look at her now, saying, "I feel I should probably warn you..." She cleared her throat, "…that Draco has a somewhat possessive streak…"
"All right," Hermione replied, catching Ginny's worried look.
"That diamond…" Pansy nodded towards her engagement ring, "…it's not just some ordinary rock…it's symbolic of… hell, how do I put this..." She was stammering now, fidgeting with a coaster on the bar top. "It's a statement, Granger, plain and simple...It says in no uncertain terms that you're... his witch…"
His witch…
His...
Hermione reached out her hand and laid it over Pansy's. "You don't have to say anything more… I accept it for what it's worth as I accept him, faults and all… the good, the bad, and the ugly."
Pansy met her gaze and relief flooded her eyes. "Don't get me wrong," she found herself continuing, "...it isn't anything awful… but Purebloods… especially Purebloods like the Malfoys, they won't do things halfway… and these symbols of their devotion are never taken with a grain of salt... It must have cost a small fortune for him to even get it back from the Greengrasses, and… for Draco to part with such a sum combined with the way he cannot stop staring at you… I just hope you're readily prepared for it all."
She turned her hand over and gripped Hermione's, giving her a look as she pleaded, "He's in this for life, Granger. If you bail, it will crush him… so please, though he may seem like a cold and calculating Slytherin, he's also very sensitive beneath it all. Try not to hurt him."
Hermione sat there, staring at their conjoined hands.
You're my witch… his words from earlier echoed through her mind. She stared relentlessly at the diamond, watching a prism of colors dance across her skin.
"I have no intention of hurting him, Pansy," she murmured, her heart clenching within her chest. Not again…
Pansy squeezed her hand then released it, stepping back. "Enough of this heavy talk," she brushed her hand through the air as if to clear it, "It's your birthday, after all."
Ginny clapped her hands, "Yes, National Celebrate Hermione Day!"
Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny gave her a tight hug. "I'd prefer just a quiet evening with food and good conversation."
Pansy snorted, "Good luck with that. Knowing this lot, we'll all be drunk and throwing hexes before the main course."
"Merlin help us, I'm afraid she's right," Ginny agreed.
Pansy relaxed, eyeing Hermione with that same grin from earlier now, "All right, Granger, out with it."
Hermione gave her a puzzled look. "I'm sorry?"
Pansy pulled Ginny to her side and they both turned to face her, "We are your bridesmaids, afterall. And that means we are obligated to listen to the proposal story…. And oooo and ahh over all the sickening romantic parts..."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed then froze with uncertainty. She worried her bottom lip as she considered what to say. Never being very good with girl talk, per se… an obvious side effect of being best mates with two boys for so many years, she had been spared talking about clothes and make-up for much of her youth. And Draco's proposal had been so… personal. Was it wrong she wanted to keep it just between them?
"Did he get down on one knee?" Ginny asked with enthusiasm. "He did, didn't he? Purebloods are so big on tradition!"
"He… uh… yes, he got on his knees…" Hermione stammered.
"Merlin, I remember when Harry proposed. He was so nervous he actually dropped the ring. Didn't help we were 100 feet in the air on his broomstick at the time…" Ginny rushed on.
Hermione smiled at the memory. They spent hours searching the fields by the Burrows for that blasted thing.
"Quiet, Weaselette, it's Granger's turn to regale us," Pansy replied, wagging her brows at Hermione.
Thankfully, it was at that precise moment when the barkeep set down their drinks. Hermione shot to her feet, grabbing the butterbeer and firewhiskey. "Drinks are here. We really should get back to the men."
"Smooth, Granger," Pansy purred. She nudged Ginny, "Must have been something very special if she's being this evasive."
Hermione opened her mouth but quickly closed it as a blush crept over her cheeks. "Oh bugger," she finally relented, "Yes, he got down on his knees… It involved the first snitch he ever caught and some very thoughtful turn of phrase. And that is all I am saying."
The other two women gasped and tried to pepper her with follow up questions but she would only smile, her lips pressed tightly together as they walked back to where Harry and Draco were still standing, now fully engrossed in some sort of argument.
"Are you seriously trying to tell me I have been master of the Elder Wand all these years?" Draco was saying as Hermione pressed into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her waist and hugged her close but his eyes were for Harry only.
"You were master… for a fair bit, anyways. Listen, you disarmed Dumbledore on the astronomy tower that night but when I disarmed you months later at Malfoy Manor, ownership and control effectively transferred to me."
"Bollocks!" exclaimed Draco, clearly agitated. "Snatching my wand from my hand does not equate to 'disarmament'!"
"Well… basic wand lore would have to disagree. And, besides, I wouldn't say I snatched it… more like wrested it away from you," Harry smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Draco snorted his disdain, "Basic wand lore is shite!" He finally turned to see Hermione there at his side and some of his anger suddenly dissipated. She offered him his drink and he took it with a smirk before he again turned back to Potter, mumbling, "As if you could ever disarm me, Scar Head."
"Perhaps we should take it outside and test that theory," Harry offered snarkily.
"Oh you are on!" And Draco pulled away from Hermione, thrusting his drink at her as he moved to unbutton his suit jacket.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen…" Pansy intervened, "You two were much more entertaining when you were throwing hexes at each other in the girl's loo…"
"Pansy's right, boys, no need to whip out your wands to prove your manhood," Ginny added, linking her arm through her husband's.
Both men looked at one another with measured glares then, regaining their senses, visibly relaxed, their surge of testosterone abating.
"Apologies, mate," Harry replied.
"Right… yeah…" Draco mumbled. Hermione cocked a brow at him and he cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment, "Apologies…Potter..."
She handed him his drink and he took a small sip before he cautiously reached for her, drawing her into his embrace.
"I leave you alone for a few minutes…" she clucked her tongue teasingly.
He shrugged, "I'm a Slytherin, Granger… we value self preservation and our egos over bravery any day of the week."
She rolled her eyes but relaxed against him nonetheless. He leaned in, whispering, "Everything all right?"
She pulled back and met his gaze. There was that worry again. She found his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Never better."
He nodded and they turned their attention back to their little group.
Ginny rubbed at her lower back, "Harry, how much longer until Rosmerta has our private room ready? This momma's feet are swelling…"
Harry's features etched with concern, "Sorry, love, everything is prepared. I just thought we should wait for the others to arrive."
Draco noticeably tensed against Hermione. "Who exactly is coming, mate, if you don't mind me asking." His voice held an obvious edge to it, drawing in Hermione's gaze. She gave him a nudge but he avoided looking at her. He took another sip of his drink.
"Longbottom, of course," Pansy practically purred.
Harry's green eyes rolled upwards as he counted off, "Neville… and Luna… oh, and my brother-in-law, George with his wife…"
"George Weasley…" Draco drawled, with a sharp emphasis on Weasley.
Hermione sucked in a breath. Ron… she thought warily, he's concerned Ron might show. Oh, Draco… She nudged him again, getting a brief wary glance in return. But he looked away before she could assuage his fears.
"Yes," Harry continued nonplussed, "He's married to Angelina Johnson… Perhaps you remember her from Quidditch?"
Draco nodded at Henry, "How could I forget… she came after me with a bludger once."
Ginny gave a very unladylike snort, which earned her a warning look from Hermione.
Pansy leaned into Draco and whispered, "Six lions, two snakes and an eagle walk into a bar…"
He smirked into his drink as he raised it to his lips but stopped short of taking a sip. "Here comes your lion now." And he gestured to the entrance of the restaurant.
Pansy sucked in a breath and she did a quick assessment of her dress and hair before raising her eyes carefully, remaining aloof and as discreet as possible. Hermione marveled at how masterful the other woman was as she flipped her long mane over her shoulder and plastered on a practiced look of contented boredom, even as her gaze shifted to find her conquest.
As soon as she spotted him, Pansy straightened but stepped a little closer to Draco, as if she needed his presence to reassure her. She released a shaky breath as Neville spotted their little group and smiled dashingly as he gave a little wave.
Hermione had to admit, Neville Longbottom had outgrown his awkward stage. He was tall and lean now, with his hair cropped short and a light beard dusting his cheeks, making him seem even more manly than his tender age of twenty-six. And tonight, he had foregone the usual sweater vest in favor of a casual navy-colored, fitted button-down and slacks, with matching blazer, which only made his blue eyes sparkle all the more. Yes, Neville was definitely a fit wizard, but he was also very sweet, and Hermione secretly hoped Pansy would heed her own advice and not hurt him. Neville deserved more than to be someone's prey.
Neville turned, holding the door open. To everyone's surprise, in walked none other than Cho Chang, dressed in an ivory-colored wrap dress. He gave her cheek a quick kiss, then interlaced their fingers before weaving through the crowd towards them. They made quite the handsome couple.
Pansy grasped onto Draco's forearm. "He brought a date?!" she hissed, digging her nails into his skin.
"Bloody hell, woman!" Draco snatched his arm away, then quickly slid around Hermione, planting himself on her right side so she was effectively sandwiched between the two Slytherins now.
"Pansy," Hermione whispered, laying a comforting hand against her shoulder blades. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know.."
Pansy growled under her breath then turned her fury onto Draco, snatching his firewhiskey from his fingers and downing it in one gulp. "Don't worry about me, Granger. It's Draco here you should be concerned about." She shoved the now empty glass back at him before spinning on her heels, "I need to use the loo." And, head held high, she sauntered off.
Hermione turned and gave Draco a puzzled look. "Well, that was rather ominous, wouldn't you say?"
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. Then he opened his mouth to say something but was immediately interrupted.
"Hey guys!" Neville exclaimed, his smile widening as he greeted his fellow Gryffindors. He cleared his throat, "Malfoy."
Draco gave a brief nod, "Longbottom."
"Right. Well, you guys remember Cho. She mentioned she didn't have plans tonight, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I invited her to join us."
Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "You should have asked us, Neville," she sniffed disdainfully. Even though she had been married to Harry for years now, she would never forget Cho was Harry's first love so long ago.
"Nonsense," Harry quickly intervened. "You're always welcome, Cho," and he leaned in to give her a quick peck on her cheek.
Cho gave Harry that sickening shy smile that she's had mastered since fourth year, "Thanks, Harry. And happy birthday, Hermione."
Draco's hand squeezed tightly to Hermione's hip right then, making her jump. "Th-thank you, Cho."
"Good to see you again, Draco," Cho replied, and there was no mistaking the way she batted her eyelashes at him.
Hermione looked up at Draco and could see his jaw was set tight as he mumbled, "Ms. Chang."
"Oh good, here comes Luna and Rolf. All we are missing is George and Angelina then," Harry replied.
Hermione leaned into Draco and cocked a questioning brow. He tried to avoid meeting her gaze, nervously moving to take a drink of his whiskey before realizing too late it was empty. He cursed beneath his breath before taking her elbow within his hand and quickly turning them away from the group.
"Look, Granger, remember when I said I apologized to Katie Bell a long while ago," he whispered.
She nodded, swallowing past the hard lump that had suddenly formed in the back of her throat.
"Yeah, well, I sort of went on a whole apology tour after my acquittal…" His voice trailed off. "Katie Bell… Luna Lovegood… Cho Chang…"
Hermione's stomach sank. Was this a list of people he felt deserved an "I'm sorry" or was he providing a list of women he slept with? More importantly, why hadn't he ever sought her out for the aforementioned apology?
"I didn't fuck her," he reiterated.
She cleared her throat, "I didn't ask."
"It's written all over your face," he chided. He sighed, "Nothing happened but she mistaken my invitation to dinner as a date…which it wasn't," he hurriedly added. "She still sends me the occasional owl, hoping I'll change my mind."
Hermione looked down at her heels, her thoughts and emotions churning.
"Say something," he whispered.
"Th-this apology tour of yours… why wasn't I on it?" She hated that her voice shook a little, betraying her. And as soon as the question had left her mouth, she longed to take it back. How did he always have a way of making her feel so vulnerable?
He snorted, "Who says you weren't?"
That got her attention and her gaze snapped up to meet his.
"I told you… we snakes are not brave by nature." He brought himself closer, whispering against the shell of her ear, "And I knew you needed more than words before you'd ever believe in me."
An involuntary shudder raked down her spine and he pressed his warm palm against the base of her back, making her breath hitch. He has a past, her mind played back, but he's with you now. Be his future.
She mustered a smile and a shrug, "Don't worry, Malfoy, Gryffindors eat Ravenclaws for breakfast." And she gave him a wink.
He visibly relaxed. His hand sought hers and upon finding it, weaved together their fingers before bringing her palm to his lips, giving the inside of her wrist a gentle kiss. "My hero," he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips.
She shrugged, "I think I almost feel sorry for the girl. Between Ginny and Pansy, she's not leaving here without a Bat Bogey Hex."
He chucked and gathered her tightly to his side as they turned back to her friends. Luna had joined their party now with her new husband and she was on a tirade about Whackspurts fluttering all around Ginny's head.
The redhead sighed and looked at Hermione, silently pleading for help.
Luna followed Ginny's gaze and her eyes immediately fell on Draco. "Oh Malfoy, you're simply covered in them." And she lunged at the unsuspecting man, waving distractingly in the air around Draco's head.
He practically leapt out of the way, but it was all for naught as Luna's husband, Rolf, quickly reigned her in. "I think that's enough, darling," he replied, his voice filled with obvious mirth.
Luna gazed up at him with loving eyes. "Oh you're right, as always, my dear."
"Interesting bunch of friends you have here, Granger," Pansy whispered, sliding to the left of Hermione so she was standing between her and Neville.
"Pansy Parkinson," Neville sounded surprised.
"Longbottom," came Pansy's rather formal reply. "Chang," was muttered a bit colder.
Neville's gaze flitted between Pansy and Draco then, "Fancy seeing you here… at Granger's birthday."
Pansy, a new firewhiskey in one hand, took a drink and replied, "Yes, well, thought I'd give Inter House Unity a chance."
Neville smiled warmly at the witch, "Bloody brilliant of you."
Pansy refused to look up at him, letting her eyes wander over the restaurant. But Hermione could see a spark light behind Neville's gaze as he stared at the witch. Cho must have noticed too, because she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
"Neville, I could really use a drink," Cho tried.
"Yeah, right… of course." He paused, "Refill, Parkinson?"
Pansy immediately downed her drink then thrust her empty glass at him. "Firewhiskey."
"Sure… right…"
"Neville…" Cho simpered, and she dragged him away towards the bar.
"While they are quite the fetching pair, they aren't terribly well matched," Luna remarked dreamily.
Pansy grunted.
Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, "Yeah, sorry about that. They've been having lunch together recently… I think they connected at the beginning of term when she took over teaching flying." He swallowed hard as Ginny openly glared at him.
"He should have said something before just showing up with her…" Ginny spat.
Harry sighed, "I know. But we blokes don't always think."
"That's an understatement," Ginny huffed. But she couldn't stay mad at her husband for long as Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her middle and gave her cheek a peck. Pansy gagged. Luna chuckled and Draco pulled Hermione in just a little tighter.
"Hey, there's George!" Harry suddenly exclaimed.
Ginny's face pulled into a frown, "They have the kids with them…"
Hermione turned and saw the familiar shaggy head of George Weasley and his wife Angelina as they tried to wrangle in three year old Fred while juggling newborn Roxanne. It was obvious to everyone the couple was arguing, and Angelina looked extremely tired and put out. It made her heart clench, seeing them this way, for she knew today of all days was not an easy one for George.
"I thought Molly was watching all the kids tonight," Harry replied.
Ginny sighed, "Mum and George must have had a row…"
"Sorry if we're late, everyone," Angelina hurriedly said as she walked over, a reluctant George shuffling behind her. "H-happy birthday, Hermione."
"Thank you," she responded in kind, but as her gaze met George's, her heart sank.
He was looking thinner than she'd ever seen him, with purplish bags under his eyes. He took one look at her before letting his gaze flit to Draco, then narrowed his eyes on Draco's hand as it clenched into Hermione's side. "I need a drink," he muttered and turned away from the group to head to the bar.
"George, please don't," Angelina tried but he pretended not to hear her.
Hermione extracted herself from Draco's embrace, "I'll go talk to him. Hold my drink, yeah?"
"Granger," Draco started but she quickly shook her head and he closed his mouth, wordlessly taking the mug of butterbeer.
Pansy leaned into Draco then, "Do you get the impression we are the fifth wheel on a very bumpy carriage ride into hell?"
George leaned across the bar, "Oi! Mate! Two butterbeers!"
The barkeep eyed the man with contempt before sighing dramatically. He turned away from George to begin filling the order.
George took a seat on the closest barstool and his gaze immediately caught on his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. As he often did, he started to smile at his twin, Fred, before realizing in a crashing sense of dread and pure pain, that Fred was gone forever and the only thing he saw in that mirrored image was half the man he used to be.
"Forget the butterbeer," he growled, "and make it a double firewhiskey."
"Is incurring Angelina's wrath really worth numbing the pain for a few minutes?" Hermione asked gently, sidling up to George's right side.
He barely glanced at her, "She'll forgive me. She always does."
"George…." she started.
"Not tonight, Hermione." Now he looked at her, his eyes pleading, "You, of all people, know what this day means."
"Exactly why I'm the one over here begging you to reconsider your actions."
He snorted his disdain just as the barkeep set his drink down in front of him. He eyed the amber liquid with caution before slowly reaching for it. There was no mistaking the trembling of his hand. He laid it down on the bar, inches from the tumbler. "Tell me," he spoke harshly through clenched teeth, "... tell me I didn't ruin my relationship with my younger brother just so you could snog that ferret-faced ponce!"
She froze. "What?!" she asked incredulously.
"You heard me," George bit out.
Hermione took a measured breath before responding, "After everything you and I have been through, please tell me you are not blaming me for Ron's actions."
His face drained of all its color and he turned to look at her, "N-no….no, of course not."
"Because, George Weasley, it sounds an awful lot like you are and that, I cannot forgive."
He shook his head ruefully, "No… no, I would never."
She placed her hand over his, where it still rested next to the filled glass of alcohol, "It has taken me eight years to make peace with what happened, can you not do the same?"
He didn't move. "It's not that easy…" he whispered.
"I never said it was. But you have two beautiful children and a wife that loves you beyond words… if you cannot do it for yourself, maybe try doing it for them."
He snatched his hand from beneath hers and clenched it into a fist. "Is that what you're doing with the ferret - letting him lick your wounds so you can feel whole again? Trust me, it won't work. That bigoted sod won't ever love you the way Ron…" George snapped his mouth shut and looked away from her.
Hermione swallowed thickly as tears pricked her eyes, "R-Ron never loved me. A person in love would never do the things he did." She took another deep breath, "And maybe Draco won't fall head over heels for me, but.. but he makes me happy. And that's more than Ron ever tried to do."
George hung his head, mulling over her words.
"I'm going to go and rejoin our party. If your plans are to drink yourself unconscious, well, perhaps you should leave. I'll make sure Angelina and the kids get home safely." Hermione turned away from him but then stopped and quickly turned back. She grabbed the firewhiskey from the bar.
"Please don't think I'm turning my back on you," she whispered, "I will forever be grateful for what you did for me and what it ultimately cost you." Again, she had to pause to keep the tears at bay, "Just try and understand, all my life I've done what was expected of me… sacrificed what I wanted in exchange for doing what was perceived as right, no matter how it may affect my future…" She swallowed, "Some days are good, others are bad… And then there's today, which is just so fucking hard."
"We're too young for it to be like this," she continued, "So I'm taking back this day, my birthday. Let's stop living in the past, George. It's time we healed and moved on." And with that, she turned and walked away, the full tumbler held tightly in her hand.
George stared at the now empty space on the bar until two tall mugs of butterbeer were slammed down in front of him. He looked up and met the gaze of the burly barkeep, who raised an eyebrow and muttered, "On the house" before moving away.
George looked into the mirror and for one moment he allowed himself to pretend it was Fred smiling back at him.
Pansy leaned into Draco, "I think it's time I made a graceful exit, save my pride."
Draco tore his gaze from where Hermione stood by the bar with the elder Weasley and cocked a brow at Pansy, "You will do no such thing."
She chuckled, "What? Scared to be left alone with all these lions?"
He snorted, "I think you know me better than that." He lowered his head, careful not to let the others hear, "We Slytherins may be cowards, but when we want something, we don't let anything stand in our way. Now, tell me what you said to me in Fourth Year, at the Yule Ball."
Pansy rolled her eyes, "That if you wanted Hermione Granger, walk over to her and take her."
Draco smirked, "And if you want Neville Longbottom, walk over there and take him. The git cannot keep his eyes off your arse. It's almost unseemly."
Pansy perked up at that observation. She snatched his empty glass from his hand. "Looks like you need a refill," and she winked at Draco before making her way over to the bar.
Draco watched her for only a moment before again moving his gaze to Hermione, his heart picking up in tempo as he noticed she seemed upset. Without even thinking, he stepped away from the group to go to her, but a pull to his trouser leg stopped him. He looked down into a set of warm brown eyes not much different than those of his witch.
"Hallo…" little Fred Weasley replied.
He crouched down so he was even with the boy, "Hello yourself."
"I'm Fred Weeslee…." he said, careful to sound out the syllables of his name.
"Draco Malfoy."
"Draco? Like a dragon, you mean?" Fred inquired.
"The very same."
Fred's eyes grew wide, "A-are you a dragon?"
Draco smiled, "I'm afraid not."
Fred visibly deflated, "That's a shame. I like dragons." He cocked his head to the side and studied Draco for a moment, "You have funny hair."
Draco chuckled, "Thank you, I think…."
"It's like Auntie Fleur's…"
"Fred Weasley!" Angelina admonished, "You don't go wandering off!"
Draco rose to his feet to come face to face with Angelina Johnson as she gathered her son to her. "S-sorry about that," she quickly said.
Draco attempted his most dashing smile, "Please, he's a charming lad."
Angelina gave him a wary look and he quickly realized she did not trust the ex-Death Eater with her son. Draco took a step back.
Perhaps sensing his train of thought, she shook her head, "Where are my manners?" She stuck her hand out towards him, "Angelina…"
"...Johnson, yes, I remember." He shook her hand briefly. "My broken clavicle in Fifth Year made you a hard one to forget."
"Well, it's Weasley now. And it was Quidditch, you know? No hard feelings?"
"Of course. My apologies. And no hard feelings…"
She shrugged, "It's all right." Silence followed, and they both seemingly tried to think of something to say.
"So it's true, then? You're marrying Hermione?" She finally asked.
Draco cringed inwardly, "So it would seem."
She nodded, "Forgive me for saying, but you're not exactly who I imagined our Hermione ending up with."
Fuck… In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, he supposed. "I guess this is where you tell me she belongs with Ron…"
"Merlin, no!" Angelina looked almost aghast at the thought.
Thank Salazar. "Well, that's a relief," he deadpanned.
"I figured she'd eventually marry Krum. That bloke will forever be besotted with her," Angelina finished.
Draco flinched and pressed his lips into a grim line to keep from saying something Granger would make him regret later.
Speaking of Granger…
"There you are!" Hermione exclaimed. "Sorry about that. But I brought you a firewhiskey."
Draco looked at the beautiful brunette next to him, fresh tears glittering in her honey colored eyes and his brow furrowed in concern. But he knew better than to voice it in front of an audience. So he cocked a questioning brow and she just shook her head.
He took the offered drink, handing back her butterbeer.
"Aunt Mynee!" Little Fred squealed and Draco watched as she pinched his cheek and ruffled his hair, all the while mentally communicating with Angelina, who mouthed a simple yet heartfelt 'thank you'.
Suddenly George was by their side, two more butterbeers in his hands, which he handed to his wife before slapping Potter on his shoulders, interrupting some wacky conversation he was having with the Lovegood bint while he cuddled the smallest little Weasley in his arms. "When's dinner, mate? We're starving over here!"
Draco smirked as Potter pushed at George, "Well if you're finished being a whiny git, we can head up to the room right now."
Surprisingly, George laughed. Draco, a master at hiding his emotions, knew an act when he saw it, but he'd play along if it meant keeping Granger happy.
"Ready?" She whispered up at him.
"Is this lot always like this?" He questioned.
"No." She paused. " Usually they're a lot worse."
He smirked at her and she grinned and whatever sadness had gripped her moments before suddenly vanished. She took a long drink of her frothy beverage and a bit of cream covered her top lip.
Draco chuckled low as he looked at her.
She nudged him in his side, "What?"
"You have a little something…" he replied.
Her cheeks colored with embarrassment. "Oh Merlin!"
But before she could reach up and wipe her mouth clean, he lifted his thumb to her lips. Slowly he swiped away the foam, letting it collect on the pad of his finger. Then, holding her gaze, he brought it to his lips and sucked.
"Mmmm…" he growled, "Tastes like Granger."
If he thought he had embarrassed her before, clearly he had been mistaken. Now she quickly went from a dusty pink to a deep shade of red.
The whimper she released trembled from her lips and he had an urge to cover her mouth with his and swallow the sound.
But as he slowly dipped his head towards her, he was jostled from behind, nearly knocking Hermione to the ground.
"Come on, you two can play with each other later," Pansy smirked, following the group up the staircase to the private room.
Hermione looked at Draco, her cheeks bright with blush, and she opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. She quickly turned away and walked to catch up with Pansy.
Draco hesitated to follow. He took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably to hide his growing erection. Try and get through the dinner, he coached himself. And he downed his drink in one swallow before climbing the steps two at a time.
He was behind Granger as she entered the private room. It was garishly decorated with cheap balloons and streamers, which he could only assume was Potter's doing.
However, it seemed to do the trick, as her eyes lit up and she thanked Potter as he sheepishly shuffled his feet. It took every ounce of his control for Draco not to roll his eyes.
As everyone moved to the table to take their seats, Draco found himself suddenly feeling very much the interloper among this tight group of friends. But then she glanced at him over her shoulder, a brilliant smile etched across her face, a gentle nod of her head for him to come closer and, fucking Salazar, he was lost inside her world once again.
He reached for the back of her chair at the same moment she did, causing her to fumble an apology. He leaned forward so his lips ghosted over her ear, "Relax, Granger. We've almost made it to appetizers and no one has been hexed yet."
She gave him that shy smile he was starting to adore, "I don't know… If looks could kill, Neville would surely be Pansy's cannon fodder."
Draco chuckled, pulling the chair out for her and gesturing for her to sit. "Rest assured, Pansy knows how to play the game."
"Not if she's three sheets to the wind," Hermione whispered.
Draco followed her gaze. Pansy was indeed on her third (fourth?) glass of whiskey as she slid into the chair between Neville and Ginny. He caught her gaze and gave her a stern look but she rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink.
For fuck's sake…
Draco took his seat next to Hermione, unbuttoning his jacket. Immediately she placed her hand on his thigh beneath the table, even as she directed her attention to something the She-weasel was saying. Draco's breath caught in his chest and it was as if he forgot how to breathe.
Just then, the chair to his left scooted into his side, catching his attention. Draco turned to see the smiling face of little Fred. "I sit with you," he stated.
Well, at least he was someone's first choice…
Hermione leaned across Draco's lap then, giving the boy another hair ruffling that had him giggling, "I thought I was favorite, Freddy."
"I cans have more than one faforite, Mynee." And he gave an exasperated sigh.
"Leave Mr. Malfoy alone, Fred," Angelina replied as she shifted baby Roxanne in her arms.
"Draco, please…"
Angelina smiled slightly. "Right… Draco…"
"Would it be okay if I held her, Angelina?" Hermione asked, a note of whimsy in her voice.
"Of course!" And the next thing he knew, Draco was shifting the small bundle into the waiting arms of his witch.
Hermione cradled the small form to her, a soft smile pulling at her lips. Draco's heart slammed to a stuttering halt in his chest as he took in the sight before him. Hermione Granger was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it. But seeing her hold a baby, sheer undiluted possessiveness swelled inside his soul.
His witch.
The mother of his heir.
Fuck…fuck...fuck…
He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, drawing Hermione's attention away from the baby. She took one look at him and her smile faded into a deep frown.
She swallowed, "She's precious, Ang." And she handed the babe to her mother, picking up her menu in an attempt to focus anywhere but on him at that moment.
Draco picked up his menu too, his mind reeling at the sudden shift in Hermione's demeanor. He got the distinct impression he had just royally fucked up.
A light caress against his ankle snapped him from his self-loathing. At first, he thought he had imagined it. But there it was again, growing bolder, sliding along his calf now. He glanced up, his gaze connecting with that of Cho Chang, just diagonal from him.
She licked her lips and pressed her foot further into him, resting at the inside of his thigh. He jumped in his seat, then nudged her away from him as harshly as he could muster without drawing the ire of the others around them.
Hermione turned to him, "Are you all right?"
"Fine," he murmured.
She continued to stare at him. Cho's toe slid over his knee. He swallowed thickly.
"Draco…" Hermione breathed.
He met her gaze. "Granger."
She eyed him suspiciously. And then, for reasons he did not know or understand, she shifted her gaze across the table to stare at Cho.
Cho abruptly straightened in her chair, her gaze flitting to the menu in her hand.
"I see…" Hermione whispered for his ears only. She focused her attention back to her menu.
Draco's stomach sank. Hermione shifted uneasily away from him, and he quickly realized she was reaching for her wand.
Fuck… He reached out and covered her hand with his before she could flick her wrist. She met his gaze, fury raging behind her irises. He was distinctly reminded why he should never anger her. He gave a subtle shake of his head. She clenched her fingers around the wand, clearly debating whether or not to hex the bitch. Finally, she looked away, snatching her hand from beneath his.
"So… Draco…" Cho purred, "What made you volunteer for the Ministry's Marriage Initiative? From what I recall, you weren't exactly hurting for dates."
Draco openly glared at the other woman, then he caught himself. Don't give the chit the satisfaction. He steepled his fingers before him and plastered on his patented sneer, "Yes, well, dating is one thing, but finding that perfect witch to share my life with was something else entirely."
Hermione snorted then pretended to peruse her menu nonchalantly. Cho's smile immediately faded.
"Well, I, for one, think it's brilliant you two were matched," Neville offered.
Hermione glanced at Draco and her gaze softened. He smiled in return and she seemed to relax. Her hand landed on his knee and she gave it a gentle squeeze. He shifted in his seat, pressing the length of his leg into hers.
"While I don't share Neville's enthusiasm, seeing what you two bring to the table should be quite the interesting venture," Harry replied with a wink. "To Hermione and Malfoy," he continued, raising his glass, "May the two of you find what it is you are looking for."
"Here, here!" Ginny seconded. And everyone raised their glasses in toast.
Draco cocked a brow but chose to hold his tongue as he took a drink of his water.
Neville turned towards Pansy now, "Ms. Parkinson… er… Pansy, that is….May I call you Pansy?"
Pansy swirled a finger in her whiskey, a smirk pulling at her red lips, "I usually reserve that right for the men I'm shagging but sure, why not?"
"Pans…" Draco warned, catching her eye. He nodded towards Fred, who thankfully was busy drawing some unidentifiable creature on his napkin with a crayon supplied by his mother.
Pansy screwed up her face and shrugged.
Neville, now a rosy shade of red and very flustered, cleared his throat, "Well, then, I suppose Ms. Parkinson will have to do."
"Story of my life," she mumbled under her breath.
"Ms. Parkinson, why didn't you volunteer for the Marriage Initiative?" Neville asked.
Pansy waved her empty glass at the waiter working his way around the table, refilling drinks. "Who says I didn't?" she countered.
"Oh!" Neville was surprised. "Have you been matched then?"
"Unfortunately," she muttered.
"I take it you didn't find your match to your liking."
"Well, we can't all be so lucky to be paired with our life long crush," she replied, waving her now full glass at Draco and Hermione.
Hermione squirmed in her seat as all eyes fell on them. She removed her hand from his thigh to rest in her own lap now. Draco crossed his arms over his chest, slouching in his chair.
Cho leaned forward to peer at Pansy now, "So, who was it then? Someone we know?"
"You might… that little Irish fella that was always blowing up things..."
"Seamus?!" Neville, Harry, Hermione and Ginny all shockingly said at the same time.
"That's the one! He took one look at me and ran for the hills. Not exactly what you would call love at first sight."
A silence fell over the Gryffindors then. Neville was the first to break it, "I'm sorry, Ms. Parkinson, that doesn't seem very fair."
She shrugged again, "Don't be. I didn't really want to get married… not like that anyway. I only volunteered to piss off my ex, Nott."
"Pansy…" Draco tried again, his tone low and foreboding.
"Would that be Theodore Nott?" Angelina inquired.
Pansy sighed, "The one and the same. Our parents signed us to a marriage contract when we were younger. I was completely enamored, he wasn't. We were secretly engaged after the war… right up until he heard Draco here threw over little Astoria Greengrass for Granger. He couldn't even wait a day for the announcement to hit the Prophet before he was under her skirt…"
"Enough, Pansy," Draco ground out.
Pansy slunked back in her chair, clearly pouting.
"Well, if you ask me, this whole Initiative is rather archaic, " Cho replied, her gaze sliding briefly to Draco.
"Thank goodness no one asked you," Hermione snapped, shutting up the other woman.
Harry swallowed then latched his gaze onto his menu. "So, 'Mione, what will it be this year? In the mood for something crazy or just your standard fare?"
"I think my life has had its fair share of crazy lately. Best to keep it low key this year."
Her tone was light, but Draco could hear the edge to her words. Perhaps tonight had been a bad idea… maybe she missed the dynamic of just her and her Gryffindork mates…
Ginny laughed, nudging her husband, "Do you remember that time she ordered two of every dessert on the menu and she and George had that impromptu competition to see who could eat the most in 30 minutes?"
"I still say I would have won," George laughed, "but Hermione cheated!"
"I didn't cheat. You forfeited when you hurled at the last minute," Hermione defended.
"Ah yes, Rosmerta threatened to ban him for life after that," Angelina chided.
The others laughed at their shared memory. Draco just stared at Hermione, marveling at how, in that moment, she looked so light and free. He'd give his last Galleon to be the reason for that look.
"Bit of a sweet tooth you have there, Granger," he softly commented.
That got her attention. She turned to him and opened her mouth to say something but Potter interrupted her.
"Oh, you have no idea," Harry replied, "I once saw her eat an entire chocolate cake by herself when she was nervously waiting for her N.E.W.T.s."
Ginny reached over and smacked her husband, "Harry Potter, stop embarrassing your best friend!"
Harry looked appalled, "What?! It's the truth!" He looked Draco directly in the eye now, "Piece of advice, Malfoy, never come between this witch and her chocolate."
Hermione shrugged. "It's true. I'm insatiable." And she reached her hand beneath the table and ran her fingers along the inseam of Draco's trousers, getting dangerously close to the bulge between his thighs.
Fuck, he was already half hard with unrequited desire. If she kept it up, he had no qualms about bending her over this table and giving these tossers a real show.
He tried to focus on his menu, swallowing thickly as she continued her assault on every one of his senses with just the light brush of her fingers up his thigh.
"If my memory serves me, Rosmerta makes one of the best chocolate cakes in all of Hogsmeade. Let me buy you a piece for every birthday I've missed," he suggested. He was quite impressed he was able to keep his voice so even.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, and her hand stilled in it's ministrations, "Uh… that's rather thoughtful of you…" She looked at Harry from the corner of her eye.
"Gracious Draco," Pansy interceded, taking another drink, "Always thinking his money is the way to someone's heart…"
"You weren't complaining when my money was being used to invest in your precious boutique," he snapped and instantly regretted it when he felt Hermione snatch her hand away from his leg.
Fucking Salazar, Draco was positive he was going to hex their waiter if he refilled Pansy's glass one more time!
"Do you often invest in Diagon Alley businesses?" asked Angelina.
Draco was taken aback.
"Angelina, not now," bit out George.
Interesting… Draco looked at her quizzically, "If I think it's worth it, absolutely."
He racked his brain trying to remember what sort of business the Weasleys had. He vaguely recalled it had something to do with jokes, perhaps. But Angelina had grown silent and subdued under the glare of her husband.
Draco recognized the all too familiar marital strife before him and made a mental note to have his Solicitor look into the financials of their shop. While he wasn't in the habit of bailing out Weasleys, helping them could only earn him points with his witch. And, Merlin, the way this evening was going, he could use all the help he could get.
He nudged Hermione with his elbow. She was nervously worrying her bottom lip with her teeth again. "If you don't want the cake, order something else. Hell, order one of everything on the menu. My treat."
Still refusing to look at him, she replied, "Th-thank you, Draco, but you see…" Her voice trailed off and she looked at Potter again. "Ummm…the thing is...Harry and Ginny usually buy dinner tonight…"
"It's our birthday gift for Hermione," Harry explained.
Saint...fucking...Potter. "Not a thoughtful gift giver, eh there, Scar Head?"
"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed.
But Harry simply chuckled, "Hermione is a simple girl, Malfoy. She's not easily seduced by Galleons and diamond baubles. You'd do well to remember that."
"Harry!" Hermione was now turning a rosy shade of pink.
Draco smirked, "I think I have a pretty good idea what kind of girl Granger is."
"Then you know she wouldn't want us embarrassing her by arguing over who gets to pay for dinner…" Harry replied coolly, picking up his menu as if it was the end of this conversation. He glanced over it before adding, "Don't worry, Malfoy, I'll even pay for yours."
Draco clucked his tongue, "I don't know, Potter, I have rather expensive tastes."
Harry snorted, "Oh don't worry about me, Malfoy, I do just fine, thank you very much." He paused, taking a moment to assess Draco. "Besides, I thought dragons didn't like to part with their gold."
Draco's aloof demeanor wavered. He straightened in his chair, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table as he met Potter's gaze. Sensing the shift in his mood, Hermione's hand settled again on his thigh and she gave it a squeeze.
"It's only money," Draco stated firmly.
Harry, too, leaned toward Draco. "Of which I have plenty," he challenged.
"I have more," came Draco's quick counter-attack.
Hermione dug her nails into Draco but he didn't flinch, his gaze for Harry and Harry alone. One could cut the tension with a knife. He knew his witch was fuming at the power play but he wouldn't back down now. He'd take the tongue lashing if it meant winning, just this once, against the self-proclaimed Chosen One.
"Gentlemen, enough with this pissing contest," Ginny declared.
Pansy snickered, "I'm sure between the Weaselette and myself, we can conjure a ruler if the two of you wish to measure your dicks."
At that precise moment, Neville happened to take a sip of his butterbeer, which he promptly spit all over Cho as he sputtered. A wide smile spread across Pansy's face, and even Hermione managed a small smirk, her hand relaxing against Draco.
"Dick!" Little Fred declared, which had everyone suddenly laughing, albeit a bit nervously.
While Neville tried to pat his date dry, Draco perused his menu blindly, keeping Harry in his peripheral vision. He watched as he leaned over to his wife, pointing at something then sneaking a quick kiss to her lips.
Something twinged deep in Draco's gut and he set his menu down and folded his hands on the table.
"Since we are on the subject, Potter, there is a small matter which I have been meaning to discuss with you."
Harry eyed Draco carefully, "Is that right, Malfoy?"
"Mmmm.. it concerns the Black family estate…" he paused, "...of which I am the rightful male heir."
"Draco…" Hermione breathed, her voice a whisper just for him. He swallowed, effectively suppressing his body's natural reaction to hearing his given name spill from her lovely lips.
Harry looked at Ginny, concern etching both of their features as they shared a look between them. "Does this concern Grimmuald Place, Malfoy? Sirius willed the property to me upon his death…"
Draco snorted, "Please, Potter, I have a handful of homes spread across Europe. I wouldn't challenge you over such a small piece of property." He willed himself not to childishly roll his eyes. "You are the godfather of Teddy Lupin, yes?"
"I am," Harry said with uncertainty.
"I would like to set up a trust for the boy… give him the controlling fortune of the Black family. I've already discussed it with Andromeda, and given his age, we felt it would be best for you to manage it." Draco kept his voice devoid of emotion, as if he was simply discussing any run-of-the-mill deal.
Harry's mouth dropped open then quickly closed. He cleared his throat, "That is rather...ummm… generous of you, Malfoy."
Draco waved him off. "He, too, is a Black. It's his rightful inheritance as much as it is mine. And I have more than enough as the only heir to House Malfoy."
"Still…"
"Would you be able to meet with my Solicitor sometime next week?"
"Ummm… yes… I'm sure that can be arranged."
Draco nodded, "I'll have him owl you with a list of times." And he picked up his menu, avoiding looking at the Potters and at Hermione now. But he could feel her eyes on him.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk teasing his lips. He reached out the tip of one finger to rest under her chin, giving it a little nudge, effectively closing her gaping mouth. "Always the look of surprise, Granger," he murmured.
She looked away, giving a quick shake of her head. "You're an arse, Malfoy…"she whispered, "But even I thought that conversation was going to take a different turn."
He chuckled low, then turned his body towards her, "You wound me, Granger." He leaned in, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, "Did you really think I'd toss him and his growing family out on their arses like my insufferable Pureblood realitives surely would have done?" He clucked his tongue, "What? And risk losing this… risk losing you?"
She swallowed, "I signed that bloody contract so you can't lose me per se…"
He placed his hand on her knee, tracing a circle along her bare skin, relishing in her sudden shiver. "At least not for the next eighteen months or so…" He met her gaze, "But what if I want longer than eighteen months, hmmm?"
Hermione's breath quickened and she opened her mouth but Draco cut her off with a shrug, "Just a thought."
He turned away from her, reluctantly withdrawing his touch to pick up his menu. "I'm suddenly famished. Decide what you want?"
She stared at him for a long moment, then refocused her attention on her own menu. But he had rattled her. She was trembling slightly as she reached under the table to lay her hand on his knee once again.
"I… I'm not sure if I want the fish and chips or the Beef Wellington..." She paused to moisten her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. "I've had the fish and chips before, so it's the safe choice. But the Beef Wellington, while a bit more extravagant than my usual taste, simply sounds delicious." She bit her lip as she pondered and he had to shift in his seat as he imagined what it might be like to have her teeth on him. He got the impression she wasn't just referring to her choice of entree.
He groaned but managed to disguise it as a simple clearing of his throat. "Tell you what, I'll order the Wellington and you can have a bite," he replied with a smirk, his gaze lingering on her lips.
A small smile formed, "And if I want more than a bite?" She shrugged, "Just a thought."
He couldn't help but laugh, and her smile grew wider. He laid down his menu and settled back in his seat, his right arm coming to rest on the back of her chair. His fingers danced into her curls, absently twisting one strand around and around, watching it bounce back into place every time he let go.
Whether it was subconsciously done or not, she leaned into his touch and he ventured further, his hand finding its way to the base of her neck through her mass of curls, comfortably caressing the skin with tender fingers.
She sighed softly. It was entrancing… watching the small bit of air escape her luscious mouth.
"So, Malfoy, what have you been up to all these years?" asked Neville.
Fucking Longbottom…
Draco tore his gaze away from Hermione to stare at the wizard across the table. "Not much," he replied with a shrug.
"Just living off your inheritance, eh Malfoy?" Harry added.
Draco cocked a brow. "Something like that."
"No ambition to pursue a career, then?" Neville pushed.
Was he being serious? "Not many professions are looking to hire an ex-Death Eater," he stated matter-of-fact.
Hermione tensed beside him and he paused in his ministrations.
"You were acquitted of all charges," Hermione quietly said.
Draco barked a humorless laugh, "You think that matters to the greater Wizarding community?"
Pansy snorted, "People believe what they want, despite the truth of the situation."
"Surely there are those willing to look past your youthful indiscretions?" inquired Harry.
Well that was a funny way of putting it, Potter. "Yes, the more unsavory kind of people." Draco reached for his water and took a long swallow, aware Hermione was staring at him. If the Gryffindorks were trying to get a rise out of him, it wouldn't work.
"If my memory serves me, you were quite proficient in Potions during our years at Hogwarts," Neville mused.
"Your point being?" Draco's tone bordered along the lines of irritation.
"Only that Slughorn is retiring… in case you're interested in applying for the position," Neville finished.
Draco's head snapped back in surprise. His first thought was to look at Hermione and gage her reaction. She was staring at her butterbeer, her brow furrowed.
He looked at Neville, "I doubt McGonagall would even consider it. She banned me from the castle just this afternoon.
"I could speak to her," Harry replied, "If you're serious, I mean."
Draco side-eyed his witch. She hadn't moved. He straightened in his chair, his hand falling away from her. "That's good of you, mate, but my days are already filled with vetting investment opportunities and declining invitations to society parties. I'm afraid I'm merely too busy."
At that precise moment, the door to the room swung open and Draco had never been more grateful to see a waiter in his life. As their meals were set in front of them, Draco sat forward in his seat, distancing himself from Hermione.
He quickly went to slicing his Beef Wellington, constructing the perfect bite on the end of his fork before presenting it to her.
Finally, she turned to look at him. Slowly, she leaned forward, wrapping her beautiful mouth around his fork, taking the bite and delicately chewing. She swallowed then studied him with her soft brown gaze before whispering, "I think you'd make a bloody brilliant professor, Draco."
His heart slammed in his chest as his mouth dropped open in surprise.
"I thought you should know that in case you changed your mind," she finished. "And that's delicious, by the way. Maybe my tastes prefer the extravagant, after all." And she turned back to her fish and chips.
Draco stared blankly at his plate of meat and roasted potatoes. With precision, he finished cutting up the beef before sliding half of it to her own plate without a word. She picked up one of her chips and held it out to him. With a smirk, he took her offering into his mouth, skimming the tip of her finger with his teeth as he bit into the potato. She released a shuddering breath which he felt all the way to his groin.
A distinct clearing of a throat drew both their gazes away from each other and across the table, where the Weaselette gave them a knowing wink, which caused a delightful blush to stain Hermione's cheeks as she quickly diverted her gaze back to her meal.
As everyone tucked into their dinner, the conversation was light but flowed freely. Even Pansy seemed to be enjoying herself, trading her whiskey for water, and preening under Longbottom's attention, much to Draco's chagrin. Is this how he looked anytime Granger dared to glance his way? He shuddered at that thought. He was going to have to be more careful with his reactions going forward.
And then she'd touch him and his well-meaning plans of indifference were immediately forgotten. Just a brush of fingers on his arm when she tried to include him in whatever Potter and she were discussing… or her palm settling on his thigh when she'd lean in to share another chip with him. And when she'd laugh, fuck… he knew he was done for. His erection was going to be a permanent fixture until he could floo home and deal with it.
When dinner was finished, and Potter made yet another spectacle of having a cake brought in ablaze with candles and they all sang Happy Birthday, Draco was almost thankful the night was close to being over. Almost…
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers again finding their way to the base of her neck while she enjoyed her piece of chocolate cake.
The first bite had her moaning under her breath and his cock twitched in response. He had to quickly straighten in his chair to avoid embarrassing himself.
When she practically whimpered at the next forkful, he leaned dangerously close to her and whispered, "Would the two of you like to be alone?"
Hermione's face turned a beet red. "S-sorry.. it really is quite good…"
And as she raised her fork to her mouth, Draco came closer, claiming it for himself. "Mmmm…" he murmured his agreement before sliding his lips to the shell of her ear, "It would taste even better licked off your naked body…"
She gasped, her head snapping around to give him an expression of pure shock… but though he had clearly startled her, there was something else in her eyes… something akin to curiosity.
Fuck...fuck...fucking Salazar! If he thought he was hard before...
"If you'll excuse me," he replied, desperate to make a quick exit to the loo or the bar, whichever was closer.
"Draco," she whispered, but he pretended not to hear. He almost made it to the door when a flash of red caught his eye just outside on the private room's adjoining balcony.
He stepped out into the night, the cool air a welcome relief on his overheated skin. Pansy was leaning on the railing, smoking one of those thin cigarettes she often favored.
He closed the distance, leaning back on the railing as he crossed his arms over his chest. "So this is where you ran off to hide."
She puffed on the cigarette and then offered it to him. "I just needed a minute."
He snorted, "You and me both." He took a drag of the cigarette before handing it back to her. He held it in for a moment then slowly released the smoke, letting the calmness it brought settle over him.
"You better get used to this sort of thing, this is your life now, Draco Malfoy."
"Perish the thought," he muttered, but he realized it didn't exactly make him ill to think about spending time with this lot as it had during their school years.
"Look, Pans…" he started.
"I don't need your lecture, Draco," she interrupted. "I know I screwed up."
He sighed, "We aren't like them, you know? Bloody Gryffindors and their sodding bleeding hearts agenda. We keep our emotions in check and we do not air our problems, no matter how dirty they may be." There, he had done his due diligence and said what needed to be said.
"Perhaps if we did, you'd have married Granger years ago and we wouldn't be in this awkward situation today," she chided.
He sighed heavily. "No such thing as 'if'..."
"You think it's all a show?" she asked, "Their unfathomable show of support and forgiveness?"
He gave a humorless laugh, "No. Afraid not, love."
"How do you know?"
"Because they aren't Slytherins…." He took the cigarette and gave it a final drag. "Forgiving… giving second chances… it's literally built into their DNA." He handed the cigarette back to her, leaned in and whispered, "Good luck."
She reared back as he pushed himself off the rail. "Good luck with what?!" But as she turned to follow him, her eyes fell on the form of Neville Longbottom, standing there blocking the entrance of the balcony.
"Longbottom," Draco nodded at the other man.
"Malfoy," Neville acknowledged, stepping onto the terrace to clear the way.
Draco stepped into the room, but instead of venturing further, he leaned back against the door and listened.
Pansy, fumbling to extinguish her cigarette, turned away from Neville to stare out over Hogsmeade. Neville came to her side and bent down to lean on the railing.
"A beautiful night, isn't it, Ms. Parkinson?" he inquired.
"It's all right…" she murmured.
"This time of year is my favorite. Everyone thinks it's Spring, because of the whole herbology thing, but Fall is by far the best season…"
Pansy side eyed the wizard next to her, her brow furrowed. Suddenly a cold gust of wind picked up and blew across the balcony. Pansy shivered and folded her arms over her body to ward off the chill.
Neville snapped to attention. "My apologies, Ms. Parkinson. You must be frozen!" He started to shuck out of his jacket.
"Stop!" Pansy declared. "Just… just stop…"
Neville paused. "What is it I'm doing?"
Pansy gave him an incredulous look. "Just stop being so damn nice to me!"
Neville's eyes grew painfully wide, "I wasn't aware being nice was such a crime with you Slytherins."
"It isn't! I… I just can't do this…" she stammered. "It hurts too much."
Neville stepped back at her words. She couldn't look at him any longer, so she turned to stare back out at the night sky. She swallowed before saying, "I like you, Longbottom… I have for years...even before it was okay to like you… when you were just a pudgy little nerd who carried around a plant and chased after his toad and I was seen only as Malfoy's annoying stalker."
She sighed, "I'm not saying this to manipulate you in any way, I'm just tired of keeping it a secret. You can do with it what you want, but at least I know I tried. There's peace in that."
She stood there and waited. What she was waiting for, exactly, she wasn't sure. But when she heard the balcony door close, she sighed in resignation. So much for the honesty route.
Neville clucked his tongue, "Tsk. Tsk. Patience is a virtue, Ms. Parkinson.
She tried to turn around in surprise but his hands were suddenly on each side of her, secured to the railing. He pressed the length of his front against her back. He was all hard muscle and clean scent as he pinned her rather effectively within his embrace.
His warm mouth found her ear then, "You forget I'm a lion… I like to hunt my prey."
A shudder raked down her spine as she released the breath she was holding. As she turned her head to gaze into the warmth of his eyes, she was taken aback by the small smirk on his lips. She desperately wanted to devour it with her own mouth.
"Patience," he whispered. "I'll be in touch."
And he backed away from her. "Nice dress, by the way… Pansy," was the last thing he said before turning and walking back inside.
Draco ducked to the side as Neville came sauntering off the balcony. He had to commend the tosser… he wooed witches like a natural born Slytherin.
Draco moved away from the balcony now, his eyes immediately finding Hermione as she listened to Luna and Ginny fawn over her engagement ring. But just as he started to rejoin her side, Angelina cut him off, little Fred in her arms.
"For you!" he declared, thrusting his napkin in Draco's face. He took it, looking down at the green four legged monster he had drawn, ready to feast on the stick figure princess to its left.
"It's… very well done…" he said, his hand running through his hair. "What is it, exactly?"
"It's you… in your dragon form…. with Aunt Mynee…"
Ah, of course it was. "It's amazing, Fred. I'll treasure it always."
The little boy lit up with excitement and leaned forward to give Draco an impromptu hug, much to his surprise. Even Angelina seemed taken aback. She set him down and Fred ran off to find his dad.
"Sorry, he's not really like this with strangers." She bit her lip, still lingering in his path.
"Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Weasley?" He asked.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy… I was just wondering if I could ask your opinion on something… from one businessman to another."
He cocked a brow, "All right…"
She glanced worriedly over her shoulder to see her husband talking with Potter some many feet away before turning back to Draco, "It's about our supplier for the potions for our store… Theodore Nott."
Fuck.
"You see, my husband will kill me if he knew I was bothering you with this, but as much as we are paying him, I'm afraid Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes won't make it to the new year."
Draco could sense she was uncomfortable and if she was coming to him, it truly must be bad. He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Do you have a contract with him?"
Angelina nodded, "I'm afraid so, yes. But I think he's cheating us."
He shoved his hand through his hair and contemplated his next move. "Owl me the contract. I'll take a look at it. And I'll need to examine your invoices. It's the most I can do right now."
Relief flooded her face. "Thank you…. Truly..."
He nodded, uncertain how to act at her gratitude. "Now if you'll excuse me." He tried stepping around her but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
"One more tiny little thing," she replied, "Please don't mention it to my husband. I don't want to upset him until I know for certain."
Secrets. Fucking Gryffindors. He pressed his lips into a grim line and gave a nod of his head. She let go of his arm then, and he was able to successfully move past her.
He slid his arm around Hermione's waist as he finally rejoined her side.
"There you are!" she exclaimed.
"We were beginning to think you jumped ship, Malfoy," Ginny replied.
"You can't get rid of me that easy, Weaselette."
"I should hope not," she said with a wink. "By the way, Harry's looking for you. Something about you paying half of the bill…"
Hermione turned to him with surprise, "Draco, you didn't!"
He shrugged, "I figured it was a fair compromise."
Ginny rolled her eyes.
At that moment, their waiter appeared, handing Hermione a tin foil swan. "Your extra piece of cake, miss."
"I didn't order any extra cake," she responded with confusion.
Draco leaned in, "My gift to you. Everyone deserves a little indulgence on their birthday."
"Aw, Hermione, you're blushing," Luna noted.
She looked down at the little swan in her hand and turned bright eyes on him, "Thank you, Draco… For this.. and for coming tonight… I can't imagine it's been easy."
He was taken aback by the sincerity in her in her gaze that it rendered him mute.
Ginny punched him in his bicep, "You did good, ferret-face."
He tore his gaze away from her to glare at the red-head. But a light touch on his forearm brought him back. "I'm going to go say a quick goodbye to everyone. And then we can leave…" She hesitated as if to say something further but bit her lip and quickly turned away.
As he watched her go, the lust he had been feeling all evening dissipated, replaced with a sinking feeling in his gut. The way she had thanked him… fuck, he would have thought he'd just single-handedly won the war, not suffered through a few hours with all her mates.
Did she think she owed him for his time? The mere thought made him feel sick. As much as he wanted her… and, Merlin, he fucking wanted her… a pity shag because she felt obligated to thank him turned his stomach.
He shoved his hand through his hair and glanced her way. She gave him a shy smile and a wink before hugging Potter.
Draco cringed inwardly and desperately tried to ignore his inner voice as it tried with all its might to remind him that the only reason the great Hermione Granger was there with him at all was because the Ministry had forced her to do so.
Fuck...fuck...fuck...
