~fourteen~
Having quickly freshened up and made a rough job of smartening up his hair a little, Draco soon found himself standing in front of the reception room fireplace at the manor. He was clutching his mother's posy of flowers as he thought intently about what he was about to do.
'This is it,' he whispered to himself with determination. 'Don't fuck it up this time."
He reached out and grasped a handful of the shimmering, green floo powder that was held in an elaborate, pewter cornucopia at the side of the mantle. Stepping into the grate and turning to face the room, he caught sight of his mother who was standing in the doorway, smiling fondly.
Draco gave her a warm smile in return before igniting the powder and calling out the name of the pub, which hosted the public floo in Hermione's village.
Cool green flames engulfed him and he soon knew it was time to exit, as the fire died away to reveal an unfamiliar scene before him.
Stepping out onto the creaky, wooden floorboards, Draco was instantly reminded of The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. The room was cosy, with chunky wooden benches and tables and it had that familiar aroma that traditional wizarding pubs always carried - ale, pipe tobacco and old magic.
"Afternoon!" came a cheery, female voice from behind the bar.
Draco startled as he took in the sight of the friendly and matronly witch. She had long, black, curly hair and he was reminded instantly of Madame Rosmerta. As he stared at her, his heart skipped a beat with the deepest regret that he associated with those dreadful memories.
"You alright sweetheart?" she asked, going to make her way around the bar and towards him.
Shaken from his stupor, Draco immediately got his feelings back in check and gave her his brightest smile.
"Absolutely fine, thank you Miss." he replied, earning himself a blush from his purposeful flattery of the older witch. "I'm just passing through actually, but may I say, given different circumstances, I would love to stay. This is a charming place you have here."
"Well!" she exclaimed with delight. "Did you hear that, Bert?" she shouted to the ancient looking wizard who was perched at the bar. "This young man says it's charming here! Isn't that nice of him?"
The wizard idly turned his attention from the tankard of foaming ale that he was nursing. He gazed at him with a bored expression, but Draco soon spotted a moment of recognition that fleeted across his wrinkled eyes as he took in his blond hair and face. Draco smiled at the gent warmly, waiting anxiously for the penny to drop and for the old man to out him as the famous Malfoy pariah.
The old wizard sucked on his pipe as his eyes looked Draco up and down, taking in his jeans, polo-shirt and scruffy trainers. He gave his pipe another suck before he nodded briefly and returned back to his drink. Clearly Draco's new found fondness for casual, muggle clothing was doing him a great deal of service in helping him to go about the wider wizarding world unnoticed.
"They for someone special?" the witch enquired, nodding with a smirk towards his mother's flowers.
"Oh. Ah… yes. Something of a surprise visit, actually," he replied, looking down at the flowers and blowing off a small amount of floo powder that had gathered there.
Draco then turned back to the fireplace, looking for the donation box that he knew such places kept at the fireside for travellers to make a contribution. Upon spotting it, he quickly took out a ten galleon coin and dropped it in.
"Well… thanks!" he called out as he made his way swiftly to the door. He was far too preoccupied with his mission to track down Hermione to notice the shocked and wide-eyed expression on the witch's face.
She scurried across to the fireplace box to see if her eyes had deceived her.
"Whoever she is, she's a lucky girl" the witch whispered to herself, removing the shiny and generous coin and holding it up with wonder as the pub door closed with a click.
Stepping out onto the cobblestone pavement at the front of the pub, Draco paused to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be on the outskirts of a small, country hamlet, with very few dwellings in the nearby lanes. He looked further afield as the lane dropped down a small incline. In the distance he could see the steeple of a small church sticking up from behind a row of tall trees and a few more roofs and chimneys.
Taking a breath, he set off at a brisk pace, muttering "Strawberry something, next to the church…" as he strode purposefully along the hedgerow lined track.
It was a warm and humid day, and the quaintness of the little village wasn't lost on Draco. He passed by little cottages and shops upon entering what appeared to be the main part of the village. The church was a beautiful stone structure and the bells were just chiming four o clock as he passed the steps leading up to its enormous, wooden doorway.
Continuing on, he followed the path around a slight corner, becoming suddenly aware of a magical signature in the air. It was a very obvious sensation given that muggle dwellings were all around. This was a sure sign of a magically warded property nearby.
As the path straightened up ahead, he was greeted by a row of three terraced cottages, each with a small garden at the front. The very first cottage had a little white dovecote in the middle of the square lawn and had a honeysuckle trailing around the front porch and window. A little painted sign at the side of the door read "Strawberry Fields."
"Granger." Draco said quietly to himself with a smile.
He unlatched the little wrought iron gate and made his way along the path towards the front door. His heart had begun to pound uncontrollably as he realised he hadn't really planned what he was going to say when Hermione answered the door.
Standing at the porch and considering his options, he was suddenly distracted by a voice coming from nearby.
"I'm afraid you're out of luck, mate!"
Draco turned to see Hermione's neighbour smiling at him over the dividing hedge. He was somewhat disconcerted to find that the man was topless, proudly showing off his rather sunburnt and protruding gut. He appeared to be holding a ginormous scissor - like contraption, which Draco quickly presumed to be some muggle device for cutting the branches and leaves.
"Oh. Hello!" Draco greeted with a slightly disappointed tone. "She's gone out then, has she?"
"Not exactly, mate. She's gone to stay with some friends in London for a while. Called round yesterday to ask us to feed her cat and water her plants."
"Oh. Right."
Draco couldn't help but smile to himself at Granger's efforts to maintain a convincing, muggle facade with her neighbours, when she could easily just use a watering charm or floo back to her cottage to see to the cat. Hermione's tendencies to stick to muggle habits and ways of doing things was one of the many things he had grown to love about her.
"London you say?" he clarified, taking a step forward as the man wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.
"Yep. I take it she wasn't expecting you then?"
"No. We're… old school friends. I was just in the area and thought I'd call."
"Right. Tough luck there then. It's not like you can just pop over to London, is it?"
Draco couldn't help but chuckle, knowing he could in fact 'just pop' almost anywhere he wished as long as the place was known to him.
"No. No I definitely can't do that. Ah well… I'll be off then. Thanks anyway!" Draco called as he headed back through the gate and towards the church. His spirits were lifted once more as he had quickly realised that he knew exactly who those friends were that she would be staying with in London. And moreover, he could apparate there directly, having visited a certain Great Aunt Walburga as a young child.
Draco glanced around the village, as he started to plan his next move. He would first of all need to apparate safely from the village, away from muggle eyes. The village was quiet with only a small number of people around the few shops, and there was a young couple sitting outside a muggle pub just across from the church. Draco's eyes were then drawn to the shady graveyard of the church, well shielded from muggle view by the tall horse chestnut trees that surrounded it.
Glancing across once more at the couple outside the pub who had now noticed Draco's out of place behaviour, he gave them a smile and a small wave of his mother's lillies before heading up the stone steps to the churchyard. The couple smiled back before returning to their pints and conversation, clearly assuming that Draco was visiting a relative's grave to lay some flowers and pay his respects.
Walking further into the churchyard, he was satisfied to find the place quietly deserted. The rustle of the trees above and the merry chirping of birds were the only sounds as he began to visualise the memory of his Great Aunt's London townhouse. Narcissa has always disliked using the floo into Grimmauld Place as it was badly kept and they always ended up dirty with floo-soot.
He remembered the enclosed public green that was opposite the house. He focused sharply on the small patch of grass behind an enclosed muggle seating area there, that he and his mother had always apparated to. With a silent prayer that the place was still the same after all these years, he apparated with a pop, just as the bell in the church steeple was ringing out a quarter past four.
He unfortunately arrived, rather unceremoniously, into a generous - sized bush that had since grown in his chosen apparition point. Cursing and stumbling, he made his way out, dusting off the leaves and debris from his clothes as he emerged from behind the shelter. Two young girls who were passing by, paused and stared at him with startled expressions for a moment, before giggling and scurrying away quickly.
Looking around the green, Draco was satisfied to see that apart from himself and the teenage girls, the place was empty. He soon recognised the smart row of tall townhouses that formed a crescent adjacent to the green, and made his way along the path that led towards them.
His eyes focused on the identical, Georgian doorways as he racked his brain, trying desperately to recall what number his aunt had lived at. The houses looked so similar, and he realised he would need to approach each one to see if he could detect a magical signature of warding nearby if he wanted to stand any chance of finding the right one.
He was just approaching the gateway to the green when a movement at one of the doorways stopped him in his tracks. He quickly moved to the side to allow himself to watch more covertly, as Potter and the Weaslette emerged from the door of number twelve. Potter jogged down the small flight of stairs to the pavement below. He had a black labrador dog on a lead who bounded and barked playfully, as Ginny Weasley called back into the house.
"You sure you don't want to come, Hermione? The walk will do you good."
Draco listened carefully but couldn't hear her reply. It was soon apparent that Hermione would not be joining them, however, as Ginny called back: "Okay, see you in a bit!" and briskly jogged down the steps to join her fiance.
There was a muffled sound of metal bolts magically sliding into place as the door was locked and warded behind them. Ginny mussed Potter's already ridiculous hair and pecked him on the lips before they headed off along the pavement.
Draco watched them and gave out a sigh of relief as they turned the corner at the end of the crescent and disappeared out of sight, thankful that they hadn't decided to exercise their dog on the green.
Spying his chance to talk to Hermione alone, he made his way through the gateway and across the narrow road. He stopped at the bottom of the steps at the front of number twelve and looked up at the tall townhouse in front of him, with its gated mews to the left of the stone steps. It certainly looked a lot different to how he remembered it!
The door was a smart, deep blue colour with its cheery stone and glass arch above. The panes of the many windows were clean and sparkling and the shabby and foreboding sense that Draco recalled from his childhood was long gone.
Draco recalled how the main living areas were actually on the first floor of these three storey town houses, although there was a little snug room off the main hallway with a window at the front to the left of the door. Draco climbed the steps and leaned over across the railings towards the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of Hermione inside the little room. Leaning ever closer, he suddenly lost his balance and found himself toppling forwards, headfirst towards the mews below.
He let out a strangled 'Fuck!' as he gripped the railings for dear life while he regained his balance and managed to hoist himself back onto the steps , taking a few paces backwards to steady himself. Little did he know that the commotion had drawn some attention to himself from within, and a pair of amber eyes were now peering down through the first floor window above to see what was going on.
Draco huffed out a deep breath and began to straighten out his jacket, checking on the posy of flowers that had now started to become a little squashed and looking worse for wear. He took out his wand and covertly performed a refreshing charm on them, giving them a little shake, regretting not using the shrinking charm to keep the flowers more safely stowed away in his pocket as he had done earlier.
"For fuck's sake, Draco, just go and knock on the bloody door!" he berated himself, striding with forced confidence up the stairs to the large door.
Raising his hand to the brass knocker, his eyes couldn't help but peer through the small glass panel of the door and inside to the hallway beyond. He stopped suddenly as he made out the silhouette of someone standing at the end of the darkened passageway.
Hermione.
Their eyes locked on each other in an instant and he was overcome with a wave of longing and emotion like he had never felt before. She slowly began to walk towards the door, and Draco could make out more and more of her beautiful features with every step as she emerged into the light shining through the arched glass window above.
Pausing at the other side of the door she stared intently into his eyes with a look of disbelief. Draco raised his eyebrows and smiled with the most minute quirk of his lips in an unspoken and apologetic greeting. He felt a familiar thrum of magic radiate around him as she lifted the wards.
Not taking her eyes from him for a second, she reached for the latch, turning it slowly for what felt like an eternity. She gave it a tug and Draco braced himself for the moment of finally being face to face with her.
The door vibrated but did not open.
Hermione tugged again urgently, causing the door to rattle, but still it remained closed. Breaking her gaze from Draco's eyes, he saw her give a little frustrated huff before reaching for her wand.
"Try the bottom one," Draco suggested, shouting through the door and pressing his forehead against the glass as he gestured downwards with his eyes.
Hermione looked at him briefly before her eyes travelled downwards. She crouched down, momentarily disappearing from sight, as the sound of a metal bolt being opened came from within. A second later, she was back on her feet and looking deeply into his eyes again through the small glass window. She turned the latch, pulling the door wide open with determined finality.
A gust of a summer's breeze whipped into the open hallway, making Hermione's hair dance wildly all around her. Draco sighed and stood open mouthed, taking in the sight of her, clutching the posy of flowers before him.
"Granger, I...I need to.." he began before trailing off again, cursing himself for not planning this part more precisely.
"Oh, fuck it…" he whispered to himself with assertion before marching forwards across the threshold. He locked his eyes on her parted lips, and pulling her swiftly towards him, he finally kissed her.
He kissed her in the way that he had always imagined his first kiss with Hermione would be. Not that drunken, sloppy lunge or the bitterly emotional revenge kiss from that fateful night at the flat. But a softly tender and yet passionate kiss. A kiss that poured into her all those unspoken words and feelings that he had been holding onto for all this time.
He dropped the posy to the floor and it rolled softly down the stone steps and onto the pavement below as he gripped her hip to pull her more closely. His other hand travelled softly upwards to the nape of her neck, buried in the soft curls of her mane. She whimpered softly into his mouth and pressed her body against him.
Draco let out a soft hum and pushed her slowly backwards towards the wall of the hallway, and in doing so knocked the corner of the console table that stood nearby. A framed photograph of a little blonde haired baby went crashing to the floor, sending glass pieces skittering across the tiled surface, and shaking Draco and Hermione from their passionate embrace.
"Shit, sorry," Draco stated mutely as he pulled out his wand, quickly repairing the damage and returning the frame to its place.
"Cute kid," he remarked, straightening the frame in position.
"Yes. That's our beautiful Victoire - Ginny's niece."
The pair stood face to face in silence for a moment, taking each other in and unsure how to proceed. It was Hermione that broke the silence first.
"So… you...you're here."
"Yes."
"And this means ... things have changed?"
Draco smiled momentarily before bobbing his head from side to side in a non committal gesture.
"Well… yes and no."
Hermione drew away slightly in confusion and Draco, realising his error immediately stepped forwards, taking hold of her hand and dipping his head to gaze earnestly into her eyes as he spoke.
"Of course some things have changed, Hermione. For one, I've realised that my father is not to be trusted and is still the same egotistical pig he always was. And secondly, I've parted ways with Astoria. She'd got these big plans to change me and was never going to accept me for the person that I've become."
Hermione gave a small smile and he reached out to take her other hand.
"But most importantly Hermione, that person that I've become, this… this… muggle music loving, record store owning, dabbling in healership studies on the side, messed - up pureblood,, t-shirt wearing wizard, is completely and utterly mad about you and has been for the longest time. Since that night we ran into each other at Warlocks. And.. who am I kidding?! Even since eighth year back at Hogwarts, Granger, it's always been you. That most certainly has not changed and honestly Hermione, it never did."
"So… what you said yesterday, about having moved on..?"
"...was complete bollocks, Granger. I never moved on. I was fooling myself with Astoria. And what I said to you at the gala, about being drunk and regretting kissing you? God's Hermione, I definitely wanted to kiss you. I always want to kiss you. Although I do regret how drunk I was and the oafish way I handled myself that night."
"And I'm sorry for how I explained things at the gala too!" Hermione added in earnest.
"I mean, I did regret the way I kissed you that night to get back at Justin, but not just because it was wrong to use you! I regretted that our first kiss would be in those circumstances, Draco. I'd started to think that Justin wasn't the one for me and had been hoping that something would happen between us, once I'd ended things officially."
Draco's eyes sparkled with emotion, and he reached once more to cup her face, placing a soft kiss on Hermione's lips, just as the pair were almost bowled over by a large, black object that came barging through the doorway and into the hall.
Still holding Hermione in a close embrace, Draco looked around with confusion to see Potter's dog scampering around whilst Potter and the Weaslette stood at the bottom of the steps. Potter was holding the posy of lilies and both of their mouths were agape in shock and confusion.
Ginny's face gradually lit up with a mischievous grin as she looked expectantly from Hermione to Draco and back again.
"We… we've come out without Fluffy's favourite ball." Harry stammered. " You know what he's like. A transfigured rock just won't do."
Hermione's cheeks flushed with a rosy bloom as she reached into a bowl on the table and produced a rather battered looking, bright yellow rubber ball.
Fluffy caught sight of it and began barking excitedly and jumping around as she tossed it casually down the stairs, Harry's free hand shooting out to catch it with effortless seeker precision. Fluffy bounded down the stairs in hot pursuit.
"Too tired to come for a walk eh, Hermione?" Ginny chimed with a knowing smirk. "You certainly do look like you're getting ready for a 'lie down!'" she continued with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.
Draco looked back at Hermione, whose blush was deepening as she gave Ginny a killer glare.
With a low chuckle, he kissed the back of her hand that he was still holding and told her that he needed to go.
"I should've been back at the shop ages ago," he explained, making his way reluctantly down the steps as Ginny and Harry stepped aside to let him pass. He took the posy of flowers from Potter, and turned to face Hermione who was now standing in the doorway again. She was leaning against the frame and he tossed the flowers up for her to catch. The summer breeze whipped around her again causing the sun dress she was wearing to billow softly and her curls to dance wildly as she smelled their delicate fragrance. Draco took a steadying breath at the glorious sight of her.
"I'll owl you tomorrow? And maybe, we can go out somewhere together?" he asked hopefully, his face lighting up with a beaming smile as she nodded in agreement.
"That sounds perfect."
And unabashed by their new audience, he muttered; "Oh fuck it all," before launching himself back up the steps taking them two at a time, before taking Hermione into his arms for one last searing kiss.
"Oh, bloody hell fire!" came the sound of Harry's voice from below, which Draco patently ignored. He was far too focused on the delicious feel and the taste of Hermione, determined to remember every second of this moment until they could be together again. They pulled apart just as Harry began to complain some more.
"Malfoy, didn't you just say that you have somewhere to be? I mean, I don't know how much longer I can stand seeing you two do that on my own doorstep!"
They giggled quietly at Harry's chagrin as Draco gently pressed his forehead against hers, whispering: "Tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow.'
And with that, he took a step away from her, turned to give Potter one of his best, trademark smirks just for old time's sake, and promptly apparated back to Diagon Alley, his heart soaring with a long overdue feeling of joy and expectation.