The next day when Hermione arrived at work, she found a single rose waiting for her on her desk.

Hermione,

Let the wooing commence. What evening are you available this week?

D.M

Hermione sniffed the rose, holding it to her chest as she smiled. Maybe this wooing wouldn't be so bad. She and Draco had parted on good terms the morning before, mostly as they both had to get to work and Hermione was pretty sure if she had to watch him in that tight shirt for any longer wooing was going out the window, and she was going to shag the man on the coffee-stained floor.

W.O.F. was busier than ever. Hermione flitted from meeting to meeting, barely seeing the inside of her own office where a mountain of paperwork awaited her. Mary, looking somewhat frantic, had managed to saddle more work onto Hermione even as she shouted down the hall that they needed more management staff.

Later that afternoon, covered in ink stains and buried in unreturned owls, Hermione sent a letter back.

Draco,

At this rate, you'll need to host another gala to get us in the same room. Mary has me organising a new project every day this month.

Hope you don't mind if the Speck is born under my desk, I'm never going to be able to leave my office ever again.

I should be finished by eight next Friday, is late-night wooing appropriate?

Hermione.

Ps. The Speck is the size of a kumquat this week.

That letter was followed by Misty herself. The little elf was apparently so concerned that Hermione was working too hard she'd forgotten to give Draco the message and apparated straight into Hermione's office. Hermione supposed she should be glad, at least she hadn't been in the middle of a meeting when the Malfoy elf appeared with a loud crack and a long wail.

It took Hermione almost ten minutes to get the house-elf to calm down, explaining that yes, she had to work, and no, she wasn't trying to delay her date with Draco, and yes, she was trying to be prepared for the Speck. Misty had finally left Hermione's office with the promise that if Hermione was going to be working, Misty would clean her flat and bring her regular meals.

Hermione was left with another small pile of 'baby essentials' lists as well as a catalogue in which Mistry had circled the two cribs she thought were best. Hermione couldn't help chewing the inside of her cheek every time she filled another form and glanced at the pile of her other responsibilities. At the rate they were going, Misty would be the only one preparing for the Speck's arrival.

She was only ten weeks along, Hermione tried to remind herself. Plenty of time for all that. Still, when Mary opened Hermione's door, she quickly hid the pile in her drawer, realising that she would need to inform her boss soon. Already they felt understaffed. If Hermione was to go on maternity leave, their management staff would be almost halved in force.

Another thing to add to the list, Hermione grumbled to herself as she piled more work to her desk.

Hermione had had to explain what had happened to her friends. Ginny had cottoned on quickly when Hermione walked into their kitchen Thursday evening, a giddy expression on her face and another red rose in hand. Ginny squealed and yelled loudly,

"Did you tell him you love him, and snog him and tell him you want to have his ridiculously attractive babies?"

"Ginny… I'm already having his baby."

"Oh right, what about the snogging stuff?" She'd waggled her eyebrows empathetically.

Harry had gotten up and hugged Hermione tightly,

"Are you happy?" He'd asked softly while Ginny danced madly in the background.

"Yes." Hermione laughed, "Yes, I think I am."

"Then I'm happy."

"I have to tell Padma!" Ginny had run to the floor, cheering all the way.

"Ginny!" Harry yelled after her, "You're not wearing pants!"

"Uh, Harry," Hermione asked after his wife had sworn loudly and catapulted up the stairs, "Why is Ginny not wearing pants?"

Harry had just shrugged, and muttered something about 'date night'. Hermione left quickly, assuring him she would let Padma know and to keep his wife to himself.

The following week was chaos. Hermione was in her office long before the sun rose and rarely left before dark. Misty appeared regularly, forcing her to pause throughout the day and eat. Thankfully no one really batted an eye at the house-elf, W.O.F. did a great deal with house-elf rights, and it wasn't unusual to see them around the building.

Draco it seemed, wasn't having an easier time at Malfoy Industries. Neither of them had a spare moment, but they wrote daily, often just small notes.

One of my investors suddenly thinks the colour of a potion is essential and could we 'very quickly find a way to make it a nice appealing colour'... also if we could make it taste like peppermint. They are infuriating, is there no sanctity in the art of potion-making any longer?

Misty delivered them, usually with a meal and Hermione would scribble a response while trying to multitask everything at once.

Perhaps Professor Snape will come back to haunt them. One of the newest hires just asked if there was any chance we could move the wolfsbane distribution because she wants to go on holiday that week. Do you think it would be inappropriate for me to lock her in a cage with one of the werewolves because Cindy decided to give them wolfsbane the week after the full moon not before?

Despite not seeing Draco, his notes were the highlights of her day. Their wooing seemed to now consist of handwritten notes and flowers. Some days there were bunches on her desk, others a single rose. Hermione had begun placing them around the office, the scent of the bouquet had her nose itching and stomach-turning, but she didn't have the heart to tell Draco to stop. Not when they came with more notes.

Perhaps you should write to McGonagall. Please inform her there is a distinct lack of education regarding moon cycles and how not to poison yourself with peppermint flavoured potions.

PS. What fruit is the Speck now?

The attention hadn't gone unnoticed by Hermione's office mates. Penelope now had a large yellow and white boutique on her desk that she'd been given by Hermione on Monday.

"You're going to have to tell us who it is sooner or later, Hermione." She'd laughed as Hermione brushed a flower away from her face. "Is this display an attempt to entice you into going out with him or an apology?"

Hermione rolled her eyes,

"Neither. I'm already going out with him, this is just because we've had to delay our next date."

Could you really call it a first date if you were already pregnant? Hermione wasn't really sure about the logistics of their new relationship, but she supposed it would probably be for the best if she didn't advertise that they were about to go on their first date when she was going to be obviously pregnant in the coming months.

"So it's serious then?" Penelope winked and caused a faint heat to rise in Hermione's cheeks.

"Yes," she mumbled, "yes, I think it might be."

She had to stop grinning like a fool so that she could write back to Draco.

A Lime. Quite possibly a giant lime, Annabelle informed me that I looked quite bloated yesterday. Even Misty has suggested I think about maternity shopping, but I think she's hoping I'll come back with an entire room's worth of furniture.

Ps. Are we still on for Friday? Are you planning on telling me where we're going or shall I just wear my joggers and hope for the best?

He didn't tell her where they were going but thankfully did inform her that the dress code would require something more than her frumpiest sweater.

Hermione glared at the pile of dresses on her bed.

"Bollocks."

"Misty is sorry, Miss. Misty could be enlarging the dresses but…"

Misty's eyes waggled as the house-elf looked at the dresses as well. Hermione didn't have a lot of nice clothing, and the few nice dresses she did own were all form-fitting. She might not have thought much about her assets but she did have a relatively flat stomach, something that she let those dresses show off from time to time when she wasn't drowning in robes.

Only now her stomach wasn't flat. It was becoming significantly less flat. In the last week, Hermione had asked Misty to charm some of her skirts to stretch around the waist. They were hidden by her robes at work, so she hadn't needed to worry about anyone noticing. Not too much, anyway.

The last thing Hermione wanted was for the Prophet to get a hold of the news she and Draco were dating and that she was pregnant at the same time. She needed at least a couple of weeks of breathing room between disasters.

"No." Hermione sighed, "You're right, they won't look right."

There was only so much magic could do to alter an existing dress. Bigger or smaller was fine, but Hermione would have to choose between looking pregnant or looking like she was wearing a sack. She rubbed a hand across her head.

"I'm going to call Padma." Hermione struggled into her comfortable house clothes again while yawning, feeling strange with the baggy garments over her lacy lingerie.

Perhaps they were hopeful. Possibly a little too optimistic, Draco was supposed to be a gentleman after all. Hermione wondered if they could fit three dates into a weekend, her skin was heated just with the thought of him touching her again.

"Pads?" Hermione called through the floo, fire calling rather than barging as she might with the Potters' home. "Are you home? I'm having a pregnant lady clothing disaster."

Padma's face appeared in the fire, looking a little more dishevelled than usual.

"Is it for your date? Do you want me to come over?" Padma asked, "I can help you pick something out."

"No, all my dresses make me look… well, as pregnant as I feel. I'd rather keep baby-geddon out of the press for a little longer, do you have anything I could borrow that won't make me look like I've swallowed a watermelon."

"You can't possibly be that big." Padma laughed.

"Certainly feels like it," Hermione grumbled. It might have been a slight exaggeration, but after her week, she felt exhausted and cranky. Pregnancy was not conducive with working overtime. "Can I come over?"

Padma's head disappeared from the flames and Hermione could hear some mumbling before Padma reappeared.

"Alright, give me one second, then come over."

"Thank you!"

"You are so lucky you're my best friend, Hermione. I might have to fight Ginny for Godmother."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You sound like Blaise."

Padma smirked, a ghostly flicker through the flames before she disappeared.

Hermione brushed the ash off her knees before finding Misty. Time was ticking, and at this rate, Draco would arrive before Hermione was dressed. A quick conversation with Misty and the house-elf reassured her that she would let Draco know he could wait for her in her flat.

Hermione stepped through the floo expecting Padma to be waiting for her. Instead, when she looked around, she found herself being inspected by the dark eyes of Blaise Zabini.

"Blaise… hi." Hermione stared at the tall Slytherin lounging casually on the sofa, one foot folded over a knee and top button undone.

"Hermione," Blaise said cheerfully as if this wasn't terribly unusual. "You look lovely."

She was wearing joggers and an old loose t-shirt. She raised an eyebrow at Blaise.

"You look…" She hesitated. Was flushed an appropriate word? She was pretty sure she had just interrupted a stimulating evening.

"Padma is upstairs," Blaise didn't look at all upset or embarrassed, despite interrupting her. "She said to send you up when you arrived."

"Right," Hermione said, walking around the sofa while she kept an eye on the wizard. "Thanks then."

Hermione found Padma in the bedroom, digging through her wardrobe and dumping dress after dress onto her bed.

"Hermione!" She said happily as Hermione knocked on the open door, "I think I've found a few options, try these on."

Hermione quickly had four different dresses stuffed into her hands. Padma's cheeks were red, and one button on her shirt was misplaced.

"Padma," Hermione laughed as she was shoved into the bathroom. "You could have just said something if you had company."

"No!" Padma called through the door, "Everything is fine! Get dressed."

It took at least twelve dresses and a few charms to find something that looked good and hid Hermione's bump. Padma grumbled a few times about maternity shopping, but Hermione pointedly ignored her. She was more than willing to put off a grand shopping expedition for as long as she could. Muggle clothing would be fine, she could go buy plenty at any store in London without worrying about being seen, but wizarding robes were mostly still tailored, and Hermione did not trust Madame Malkin not to let slip Hermione's new waist measurement.

Padma stuffed Hermione into heels and smiled,

"You look brilliant."

She was wearing a soft red dress that fit her breasts snuggly, pushing them up to heights Hermione didn't know were possible. The dress hugged the top of her waist then flared, enough structure to the material to hide her stomach and as Padma had muttered 'thank Merlin you're sitting low'. The dress fell to her knees and had cute lace cap sleeves that Padma patted, happy with her work. Hermione patted her dress nervously, instinctively flattening a hand over her stomach. Padma's eyes widened,

"Just don't do that while you're out or everyone will know."

Hermione grimaced. She wondered if she could put a notice-me-not charm on her own stomach. Hermione yawned a few times while Padma compared earrings.

"Stop yawning!" She admonished, "You're meant to be excited about tonight!"

"I am." Hermione yawned again, "I'm just so tired."

A few extra minutes of fiddling and earring selection and Padma officially deemed Hermione date-ready. They both hurried down the stairs.

"You look lovely, Hermione." Blaise had been waiting patiently on the sofa, "Draco is a lucky man."

Hermione gave him a nervous smile,

"Thank you. Do you think he'll like it?" Hermione gave him a spin and Blaise nodded.

"That man would take you in the joggers. Seriously, you will never know how happy I am to not hear him wallow every day at work." His eyes flashed mischievously as he spoke.

Hermione didn't have any time to quiz him on that or his presence on Padma's sofa before Padma was rushing her into the floo and warning her not to get soot on the dress. With a roll of her eyes, Hermione threw down the floo powder and was gone.

"Wow." Draco's honey tones greeted her as Hermione stepped into her own flat again, "You look amazing."

Draco was sitting on the sofa, eyes travelling the length of her body and back up.

Hermione shrugged, it had been so much effort to get in, and after the numerous dresses Padma had given her she mostly just felt tired now. Her hair had escaped its charms and was now puffing wildly around her shoulders, rouge curls lying snared in the wrong directions and others sat straight up into the air. She tried patting them down, it would take too much energy to fight them back into submission.

"Thank you." Hermione grinned a little, it was still nice of him to say. "Are you aware that Blaise is at Padma's flat right now? I think I interrupted something."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't, no." He smirked, "He mentioned he was seeing a friend tonight but not whom."

"Looked a little more than friendly to me."

"Really?" Draco rubbed his chin, contemplating something on his shoes quietly.

"You look very Slytherin right now." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you really going to blackmail Blaise with this information?"

"Yes," Draco looked absolutely unapologetic as he smirked at her. "Slytherin remember. Blaise has been tormenting me for months about you, it's nice to have the upper hand for once."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Slytherins. She supposed, under all the layers of ridiculous Slytherin antics, she could see a little glimmer of sweetness in his words. Draco had been interested in her for months. Even after he had told her it was surprising. His eyes roamed over her now, mind diverted from Blaise and Padma as he focused on Hermione. She smirked a little as his eyes paused on her breasts, they were bigger than usual and pushed up with the dress rather than hidden behind robes.

"Sorry to leave you here alone, I had to make a last-minute trip to Padma's place to find something that actually fits."

Draco raised a quick eye-brow but wisely said nothing. Hermione paused and smirked, realising this was one of those things he was missing out when they weren't together all the time. Hermione walked to Draco and gestured for him to take her hand. She pulled it closer and placed his palm on her rounded stomach. Padma had given her a dress that did wonders at hiding the ever-growing bump. Even in the last week and a half, it had changed significantly, and Hermione was beginning to wonder how much longer they would be able to hide it.

Draco's fingers spread out over her firm, rounded stomach.

"Merlin," he breathed quietly.

Draco sat down on the edge of the sofa, eyes round and bright. Hermione moved closer as he lifted his other hand.

"May I?" He asked, nodding to her stomach.

"Yes, Draco." Hermione smiled.

Draco pressed both hands to her stomach, smoothing the dress over her skin and revealing the bump. He looked up at her then, his grey eyes finding hers, and she could understand the emotions he was going through. She'd had hers more gradually, adjusting to the changes in her body over the past few weeks but for Draco, it was a lot to take in. Even at her last check-up, she had barely begun showing, nothing more than a swollen bump. Now there was no doubt something in her body was changing. Draco smiled up at her softly,

"You're making this incredibly difficult."

"Making what difficult?"

"Being a gentleman," Draco said, "and not kissing you until after our date."

Hermione pressed her hands over Draco's and tried her best seductive smile, regardless of the curls that flopped over her eyes.

"Good because I don't want to wait."

Draco growled under his breath, but Hermione smirked when he rose, arms shifting to hold her around the waist and pulling her body to his chest. Hermione slid her hands up his arms, appreciating the definitions of his muscles under his robes. She stared at his lips, remembering the way they felt on hers and wondering if it would be different this time. Almost every time before had been passionate, formidable and nearing on desperate. They bit and nipped, trying to devour each other, but now they had time. Draco tipped his head to hers, nose brushing her own as he kissed her gently on one cheek.

Hermione let out a tiny groan, and Draco chuckled. He kissed her on the nose, then again on the other cheek. Hermione's hand gathered his blond hair in her grasp, almost ready to drag him to her and push her own lips against his.

"Patience, Hermione," Draco whispered, dropping a kiss on her jaw as she huffed at him.

Draco's hand cupped her cheek, tipping her head back as he looked down at her and she waited on bated breath as he tilted, his lips brushing her own. They were as soft as she remembered. Even when he was brutal in his attentions, she had felt his tenderness. Now he brushed against her, the touch only feather-light.

"Draco," Hermione moaned as he teased her, "Please."

Draco smiled but just as his lips touched her own, pressing in to relieve her tension, the flat filled with a loud ringing. Draco jumped at the obnoxious noise, frowning as he looked around then back at Hermione who leaned her head back and groaned at the interruption.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Draco asked, clearly annoyed as well.

"It's my phone." Hermione sighed, slipping from his embrace and walking to the kitchen. "A muggle communication device, only my parents have the number though."

Hermione stopped in front of the phone, letting out a huff and trying to compose herself. It was not appropriate to answer the phones to one's parents hot and about ready to rip off a man's trousers to have their way with him.

"Hi, Mum."

"Hello, darling. Can you hear me?"

"Bloody contraptions," Draco muttered in the background, flopping down onto the sofa.

"Yes, Mum. I-"

"Darling," Hermione's mother paused, "Is that a man in your flat?"

Hermione cringed. This was not what she wanted to be doing with her night. She wanted to hang up and go back to the kissing. Hopefully, some snogging. If she was fortunate, she'd get Draco to ditch the whole gentleman outlook and shag her silly.

"A man?" Hermione's father's voice interjected through the line. "What's a man doing in your flat?"

"Oh, Richard." Hermione's mother scolded. "Hermione, dear, is this what you wanted to talk to us about? Is there a new man in your life?"

"I, uh," Hermione rubbed her forehead, she supposed it wasn't the worst thing to introduce the idea to them. "Yes, there is. I'm about to leave; actually, we're going on a date."

Please hang up and let us go, she prayed. She didn't want to have this conversation over the phone with the connection garbling through from the other side of the world.

"A date?" Hermione's dad yelled, and there was a scuffling noise through the phone. "Hermione, you put that man on the phone right now, young lady."

"Dad, no." Hermione groaned, he'd gotten somewhat over-protective since her divorce with Ron.

"Hermione Jean Granger, put that man on the phone right this instance or so help me I will fly back there tonight to-"

"Alright, alright."

Hermione held the phone to Draco, who looked at her like she was barmy.

"Just talk into it normally." She said, "My father wants to speak to you."

"Granger." Draco groaned.

"Please. Better now than…"

She nodded down to her stomach, and Draco's eyes widened. He held out his hand and took the phone gingerly, like it would sting him.

"Hello?" He asked tentatively. "Yes, sir… Draco Malfoy… Yes, I will… Of course, sir…. Yes, sir. Thank you… I look forward to meeting you too."

Draco handed the phone back to Hermione, looking only a shade paler than usual.

"Dad?" Hermione said into the phone.

"It's me, dear." Her mother's chipper voice said. Hermione suppressed a sigh.

"Oh, Mum. What did Dad say?"

"He grunted, dear. You know what he's like. That's about as close to approval as you're going to get for now."

Hermione nodded, her father was a man of few words and even fewer chances. Their relationship had been strained after the war, she had tried to explain that she had done what she thought was necessary, but Richard Granger was a hard man to convince of just about anything.

Where he was calculating and logical, Hermione's mother, Jeanette, was emotional and passionate.

"When do I get to meet him?" Jeanette asked, chuckling through the line. "What does he look like? Is he fit?"

"Eugh, Mum." Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Surely, this isn't why you called me?"

"Oh, right." Jeanette said, "Actually, no. I was calling to tell you our flight got delayed, so we've just decided to stay for a couple of weeks longer."

"Oh," Hermione said. Shit, she really didn't want to tell them about the pregnancy over the phone, but now she would have to wait even longer for them to get back. What if she was showing by then? Her father had just reacted poorly to discovering a man in her life, what would he do when he found out she was knocked up? "Really? When will you be back?"

"Not until mid-march, darling."

Who extends a trip by a month just because their flight gets cancelled? Her bloody parents, apparently.

"March?" Hermione groaned, 'Seriously, Mum, you've been gone for… ages."

"I know, but well, we're basically retired now. What with the practice being sold…" Hermione's mother trailed off, and Hermione mimed banging her head on the wall while Draco snorted. Hermione had sold their clinic during the war, she'd sold their house during the war. She was the one to send them to Australia in the first place, and this wasn't the first time her mother had reminded her of it.

"I know, Mum, I'm sorry." Hermione paced around the room while she spoke. "March is fine, I hope you enjoy your holiday."

"Thank you, darling." Hermione's mother got distracted by something in the background, "Darling, I have to go. When we get back, I want to meet that man of yours alright?"

"Yes, sure, Mum," Hermione said, but the phone was already beeping in her ear. She threw it back on the base, and with a groan, she flopped onto the sofa next to Draco.

"I don't know why, but I always expected you to be close to your parents." Draco's face was a mixture of pity and curiosity as he watched her.

"We used to be," Hermione admitted. "At least, I was with my Dad. It's always been a little… strained with Mum like we're on different wavelengths. With Dad, we were always just… together. Reading books, tinkering in the garage- neither of us minded the quiet, whereas Mum always wanted to talk."

Hermione shifted to look at Draco, she leant her head on the back of the sofa and Draco reached out to take one of her hands.

"We used to make these pillow forts," Hermione smiled at the memory, "and eat pancakes for dinner. Now it's strained, he loves me, but I can always see the fear in his eyes. He was so proud of me when I got my Hogwarts letter, but he can't even look at my wand without shivering. The magic scares them. I sent them away during the war and ever since it's been… not the same."

Draco nodded,

"Mother and I used to hide under the blankets," he said, "she'd read to me by wand light, and Misty would sneak us icecream. She's in France now, she never really recovered after Father went to Azkaban and she refuses to return to Britain."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry about your parents, too. I heard what you did, you were only trying to protect them."

"Thanks." Hermione gulped a little, hoping the question that came to her lips didn't upset the small balance they had found. "Have you told your mother about… well, about the Speck."

Draco nodded, but from the twisted grimace on his face, Hermione presumed it wasn't good news.

"That bad?" Hermione could only imagine what Narcissa Malfoy thought of her. Draco pursed his lips and then shook himself.

"Let's not talk about that now." Draco tried to smile, "We're meant to be going on a date."

Hermione tried to smile. She wanted to go out with Draco, she'd been looking forward to their date all week. Neither of them moved from the sofa; instead, they sat there for a few minutes just holding hands.

"You're not really feeling it are you?" Draco asked after a while.

Hermione grimaced, trying to put on a happy face.

"No!" She smiled awkwardly, "I am. Let's go, you've got it all planned out, and it was so romantic and-"

Draco's raised eyebrow cut her off, and she groaned.

"No, I'm sorry. I am so tired, Padma made me try on so many dresses, but you're wooing. There is wooing to do." Hermione tried to get up, but Draco dragged her back down to him, closer this time.

"It's fine, Hermione." He said, kissing her forehead. He seemed to ponder for a few minutes then smiled, "Go get changed, something comfortable. I'll get everything ready. Wear your pyjamas."

Draco pushed her off the sofa while Hermione tried to protest.

"Go." He urged, "I've got an idea. You will be wooed."

Hermione looked at Draco bemused as she walked into her bedroom and changed. She'd left her comfortable house clothes at Padma's, but she pulled out a pair of flannel pyjamas from her drawers and changed slowly.

The top didn't fit. It threatened to burst a button around Hermione's breasts, and she resigned herself to a maternity shopping day in the near future. Digging a singlet out of her pile of clothes, Hermione put that on so that the pyjama top could hang open.

Hermione poked her head out of her bedroom,

"Are you ready?"

"No!" Draco's voice was muffled, and Hermione could hear a disturbing amount of shuffling coming from her sitting room.

She slunk back into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting. Hermione glanced around, trying to distract herself when her eyes fell on the pile of knitted baby things Misty had been making her. It had grown... significantly. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she went to it. There was now at least two of everything. Baby booties, little bonnets, cardigans and blankets teetered in a stack.

"Blimey."

Before she could examine the extensive collection, Draco called from the sitting room, "Alright, ready!"

Hermione was chuckling to herself, wondering what he had planned when she caught sight of her flat. Hermione's furniture has been pushed back to the wall, in the middle of the room blanket were suspended in the air forming a tent-like structure. Underneath Draco had nestled all of the sofa cushions and blankets. Draco himself was standing in front of the structure. He'd changed clothes, gone were the black robes and now he wore dark green and silver pyjama bottoms and a grey long sleeve shirt. He looked cosy and comfortable.

"It's amazing." Hermione breathed, spotting the low hanging orbs of light in the dim room.

"Are you wooed?" Draco asked, holding his hand out to her.

"Yes," Hermione laughed, "Oh my gods, yes. This is incredible, Draco."

Draco lifted the edge of the floating blanket, letting Hermione into their fort. She couldn't help the childish giggle that escaped her lips as she lay in the cushions. Draco had obviously used charms to soften the ground underneath them, it was like lying in a pile of feathers. Draco settled himself next to her.

"Is this ok?" he asked, "It's not exactly the fine dining I had planned, but Misty is bringing pancakes and ice cream."

Hermione thought she may actually melt.

"This is perfect." It took effort in the soft fort, but Hermione managed to throw herself over a pillow and hug Draco. "Thank you."

"Misty helped," he said, "and brought me clothes."

Draco lift a foot. Hermione looked down and was rewarded when she noticed his colourful socks. They were green and red this time, with little broomsticks. He was perfect, and Hermione looked up into his eyes, drinking in the sight of him.

"Does this count as you taking me home now?" She asked, "because I would very much like to kiss you."

Draco smiled, and this time he didn't tease her. His lips were soft and warm as he dipped his head and kissed her gently. It was delicate and slow like they had all the time in the world to taste and savour one another. Hermione mussed his hair with her hands, she loved how soft it was without the hair gel he had been so fond of in Hogwarts. Draco's hands found her waist and pulled her into his lap, encircling her as he groaned softly.

They broke the kiss with a soft gasp, both panting slightly.

"Gods, I've missed this." Hermione murmured, eyes half-closed. "You are ridiculously good at kissing."

Draco leant his forehead against hers,

"Never let me be stupid enough to stop kissing you ever again."

Draco kissed her again, even as she smiled and held him tightly. Hermione was kissing him again, more fervently this time when they were interrupted by the pops of two plates appearing by their side.

"Misty." Draco mumbled as Hermione wrapped herself around him, "Pancakes…. Ice cream melting… Granger."

"Hmmm." Hermione finally pulled away to look at their awaiting food. "Oh, right. Food."

Draco snorted as her stomach rumbled at the sight of the pancakes. He passed her a plate, and they sat under the blanket fort, eating their pancakes.

"Tell me about your family," Draco said, licking ice cream off his thumb. "What was it like growing up as a muggle?"

Hermione laughed, completely forgetting for a moment that the wizarding world was all he knew.

Hermione munched on her pancakes, enjoying her childhood stories around mouthfuls of Misty's cooking. Draco's colourful socks rested against her leg as he listened. He frowned on occasion, interjecting with questions or comments. Most of which came from him not understanding how muggle's coped without magic.

Hermione tried explaining football to him, but with her poor Quidditch knowledge the analogies became a mess, and she told him it would be best if he asked her father to explain it to him. At least they would have something to talk about.

Their plates were discarded, and Hermione leant against Draco, while he rubbed circles against her hand.

"Are you tired?" He whispered when she yawned and leant her head against him.

"No," Hermione lied. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. She was enjoying herself, talking to him, having him close to her. "Do you want to watch a film on the telly?"

"The telly?" He mussed, "You still haven't explained what they are. Tiny plays, you said?"

Hermione laughed. She got up and opened her small tv cabinet, revealing her little box television. It wasn't new, but for her, it worked, that and the old DVR player underneath it.

"In the spirit of blanket forts, I think we'll watch something that I liked when I was younger." She grabbed a case from the cabinet and put the tape in.

"Ready?" Hermione asked as the speakers came to life.

"As I'll ever be," Draco mumbled.

Hermione crawled through the blankets back to him. Draco sat up, pulling her into his lap comfortably. The affection seemed to come effortlessly between them. Touching one another just seemed right somehow. Hermione pulled a blanket over them as music played.

"Once upon a time in a faraway land a young prince lived in a shining castle…"

"Hermione," Draco frowned as the animations moved across the screen. "What on earth-"

"Shh," Hermione snuggled closer, "It's called Beauty and the Beast. Don't question, just enjoy."

Draco humphed behind her. The narration continued, and Hermione tried not to laugh as she felt him frowning behind her.

"You know," he said. "You're lucky I'm trying to woo you because this is ridiculous. Why wouldn't someone just reverse the curse? Obviously, witches exist in this drawing world…"

"Draco, it's magic."

"Exactly."

"No, it's muggle magic. Just accept it as fantasy and move on. The prince is cursed, only Belle can save him now."

"Who?"

"Oh," Hermione turned to him. "Just watch!"

"Fine." He groaned at her but remained silent for the majority of the movie.

It wasn't what Hermione had imagined, dating Draco Malfoy. It wasn't what she imagined was normal for any first date but somehow leaning against him as her eyelid grew heavy, Hermione knew it was right for them. Everything they did was in the wrong order but knowing that Draco wanted to be there with her, even when she was exhausted and in her pyjamas was perfect.

Hermione looked up at Draco. His forehead was still crinkled into a small frown, grey eyes tracking the singing animations across the screen while they invited him to be their guest. He looked like he was studying the muggle contraption more than actually watching the story play out.

Draco noticed her staring up at him, and his face relaxed as he looked down.

"Why are you staring at me? Shouldn't you be watching your play?"

"Mmm." Hermione was happy. Things felt good. Draco was there, Draco wanted to be with her, and maybe, just maybe, everything wouldn't be a complete disaster. She reminded herself not to cry about it. "You know you're rather pretty."

Draco snorted, "You rather pretty yourself."

"Thank you." Hermione wrapped an arm around his waist, "Not for saying I'm 'rather pretty' but for tonight."

"You're welcome." Draco dipped his head to kiss her, "Thank you for giving me a chance."

His lips were soft against hers as Hermione pulled Draco down onto their blanket pile. His leg slipped between hers as he pressed his hips against her.

"Oh god, Draco." Hermione moaned softly, "You're not really going to make me wait until the third date to get to the second base, are you?"

"Maybe," Draco kissed her jaw and down her neck, "I'm pretty sure I still have books to impress you with. And the actual date I'd planned. Wooing can't be rushed, Miss Granger."

"I'm wooed" Hermione groaned, pushing her chest upwards as he kissed her collarbone. "Consider me wooed. This is my official certification in being wooed."

"Say 'wooed' one more time, Hermione." Draco laughed into her skin. "What exactly would you like other than to be wooed?"

Draco pulled back from her, his blond hair dangling over his forehead. Hermione latched her hands around his neck and looked at him steadily.

"Fucked." She growled, "Shagged. Ravished. Call it what you want, Draco, I just want you."

Draco's eyes blew out. His dark pupils engulfing the grey of his irises as he watched her lips.

"Fuck," He groaned, "How am I meant to say no to that? You know that's not playing fair."

Hermione lifted her head, catching his lip with her teeth and nipped at him.

"Good." She mimicked one of his smirks, "I don't want to play fair, Draco, I want to play dirty."

Draco leant his hips into hers, she could feel his bulge pressing against her as she kissed the side of his mouth. Teasing him with gentle kisses as she rubbed herself against him, testing his resolve.

Draco seemed to consider it for a moment before he broke. He pushed Hermione down with his body, his lips finding hers and kissing her with a bruising passion. She let out a happy little victory noise as his hands found her waist and began pushing at her shirt.

A/N: *Dumps Fluff* I did it.

This week has been a strugggle (yes, three g's that how struggle-y it was), my computer has decided that turning itself off every twenty minutes is now a fun past time. I'm trying to muddle through while I get it fixed, but between misbehaving laptops, houseguests and an over-enthusiastic number of fests that I signed up for things are taking a little longer than usual. My bad.

Anyway, hoped you enjoyed this very fluffy chapter!

Nif.