~twenty~
Draco sat awkwardly reclining on Hermione's sofa at Strawberry Fields, waiting for her to finish getting ready. It was the night of the annual Ministry's Wizarding Excellence Awards, and Draco was going along as Hermione's guest. She and her colleagues had been nominated for the Team Impact Award and she was busy putting the finishing touches to her hair and makeup.
Draco was watching her small television set, grimacing at the shouty muggles on the screen in the grim London-based drama he had stumbled upon. He was wearing best wizarding dress robes, and was feeling far from comfortable in the high collar and knotted cravat ensemble.
He had developed a real dislike for the formal garbs he had been trotted about in in his youth, but wanted to make the effort for Hermione's special night. They had been facing a lot of press attention in the four months since Harry and Ginny's wedding which didn't really show any signs of abating.
The press had as veracious an appetite for their relationship as they had done that day at The Burrow. They picked and analysed at every seemingly insignificant detail they could speculate about, so Draco had felt that towing the line with the dress code of the evening was the best choice to make all round.
He sighed with discomfort as he fingered his collar, cursing at the strangling sensation under his breath.
"Well don't you look handsome!" came Hermione's voice from behind him at the bottom of the narrow staircase.
Whirling around, Draco caught his first sight of Hermione's outfit for the night. She was wearing a white, floor length silk dress, with a tantalisingly long slit up the side all the way to the top of her thigh and a pair of dangerously high, white stilettoes. The bodice fitted against her torso perfectly, showcasing the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders and back. Her hair was tucked up into an elegant chignon and the shock of red lipstick she had chosen made Draco experience a very familiar throb of mild arousal.
He immediately knew that having to wear his dress robes was worth every second of discomfort if it meant he got to spend the night with Hermione looking as she did, and given that he would be able to look forward to peeling the dress off her perfect body later in the evening.
Draco suddenly realised that he must have been ogling her quite lecherously and so swiftly turned off the TV and walked over to her to place a chaste kiss on her temple.
"You're breath-taking," he whispered into her ear, earning a shiver and a small giggle as she shimmied past him to fetch her wand, stowing it carefully away in her magically extended clutch bag.
"Whereas I, on the other hand," he continued, fiddling with his tie and doing a little jiggle to straighten out his trousers, "…feel like a trussed up turkey."
"Well I think you look lovely," Hermione retorted, checking her hair in the mirror that hung over a small sideboard nearby.
"Hmph," came Draco's disgruntled reply.
"These trousers are not getting on with my underwear," he added with a grimace as he wriggled slightly to adjust himself. "Beginning to wish I'd gone commando."
Hermione laughed down her nose at his adoption of yet another muggle turn of phrase, as she made her way over to him. She linked his arm to prepare for their apparation to the Ministry reception point and leaned in towards him with a smirk, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Lucky for me I already thought of it," she admitted, flashing her eyebrows triumphantly as the dawn of realisation washed over Draco's face.
She apparated them away with a giggle as Draco groaned with half pleasure, half dismay. As they arrived he was still coming to terms with the fact that he would be spending a formal evening surrounded by ministry dignitaries, in a constant state of arousal from the fact that Hermione's pussy lay at arm's length and in a state of precariously open accessibility.
Having had their invitations verified at the floo reception area, Draco and Hermione made their way towards the Ministry's atrium that led them towards the Grand Hall. There were several other guests and attendees already there and they recognised the familiar cacophony of the wizarding press as they made their way to the purple carpet that led them on their way.
They glanced at each other with a knowing look in full anticipation of what was to come. The press, both British and international who were all housed behind a long barrier at the side of the carpet went berserk as soon as they clapped eyes on the pair.
Hermione sighed resignedly as they walked forwards and paused every now and then to oblige the press with some photo opportunities. Further along the way were journalists, poised with quick quotes quills and voice recording charms, to interview the wizarding world's celebrities.
"Oh look!" Hermione called out, nodding her head in the direction of a group of people in front of them. "There's Mary and the others."
Up ahead, Mary Cattermole and a group of Hermione's other colleagues were being photographed and interviewed by what looked like someone from the American wizarding press. They made their way forwards and Draco let Hermione break off ahead to join her team. He hung back out of the way, watching her intently as she mingled joyfully and engaged confidently in a brief interview, speaking passionately about the work her department had done and all they had achieved in improving muggle, half-blood and wizarding relations.
Draco smiled at her open passion and vigour, but was suddenly shaken from his admiration by a chillingly familiar voice over his shoulder.
"Well look who it is."
Draco rolled his eyes as he turned slowly to inevitably meet the sneer of Justin Finch Fletchley.
Draco's grey eyes glazed over with a hardened expression. He hadn't heard anything of Justin since he got excluded from his healer training, and neither had he wanted to.
"Flinchley." Draco said in a terse greeting.
"Malfoy. I must say, it's certainly charitable of Hermione to bring you along."
Draco tensed at Justin daring to mention Hermione's name so casually after the way he had treated her, even though it had turned out she hadn't actually much cared for him in the end. He stamped down the bubbling anger that was growing within and, taking a deep breath, gained a strong sense of control.
"It must be nice for you to be able to use her good name for the promotion of your own business. I hear you're quite the little retail leader, Malfoy. How very noble." Justin scoffed with derision.
"Whereas, others of us are making and real difference in the world, and being recognised for it here, tonight," he bragged, running his fingers through his thick dark hair that was slicked back from his wide forehead.
At that moment, the press noticed the interaction between the pair and began to shout over to them.
"Mr Malfoy! Mr Finch Fletchley! Over here please!"
Justin plastered a broad fake grin across his smug face as he turned to the cameras, placing an arm around Draco in a false imitation of comradery.
"Mr Finch Fletchley! Are you and Mr Malfoy well acquainted?" came the prying questions of the nearby journalists.
"Oh well, of course, yes!" Justin replied swiftly, before Draco had a chance, eager to make the impression of being the forgiving muggle-born, taking pity on the former death eater.
"We finished eighth year at Hogwarts together."
Draco had long been astonished that the revelation of his expulsion from the healership training had gone largely uninvestigated by the press. There had been a brief report about him quitting the course to pursue his business venture when Vinyl Resting Place had first opened, which had again been echoed in the furore over his relationship with Hermione, but the actual circumstances had never come to light.
"Yes, that's right!" Draco added, also throwing his arm around Justin and clapping him hard on the back. "And then, by sheer chance we ended up as flatmates at St Mungo's. Didn't we Justin? That was, until I was required to leave, of course"
Draco smirked as he felt Justin tense up and noted him swallow thickly.
"Mr Malfoy! Mr Malfoy! Just how was it that you came to leave St Mungo's?"
Draco smiled brightly and casually announced: "I was excluded for bad behaviour."
The press got louder in their frantic mission to get the scoop on this new scandalous titbit of information that Draco was dangling in front of them.
"Why were you expelled Mr Malfoy? What was the reason?"
Draco turned to look at Justin who was staring ahead with wild panic and a manic smile.
"I deliberately hexed old Finchley here, didn't I mate?" he announced, patting Justin's shoulder jovially.
"Mr Finch Fletchley! Mr Finch Fletchley! Were you injured? What was the spell, Mr Malfoy?"
This time it was Draco's turn to beat Justin to an answer.
"It was a little known hex by the name of 'Mentula Vermis' or the 'worm dick hex' if you will."
He continued with a laugh, "But the funny thing is, it turns out that the hex has particularly powerful effects on those with, shall we say, a pre-existing condition of endowment - or lack thereof, something that had not been discovered until I administered it to old Finchley here!"
Justin was gulping and turning ashen as Draco continued his tale.
"So yes, I got excluded. But I guess that in doing so, I still managed to bring new medical information to light, thus leaving my mark on both the world of healership knowledge AND Justin's shamefully small manhood."
"In fact," Draco added, adding his own embellishment to the story for his own gratification, "I've heard a rumour that in medical circles, they've nicknamed it 'The Finch-Fletchley Effect'. So I guess I can't take all the credit, eh Justin?"
The press remained silent for a moment as they processed all that had been so freely divulged to them. In an instant the peace was shattered as they went wild with desire to hear more and the sound of camera shutters and flashing bulbs filled the atrium.
Draco leaned in to Justin and muttered "Enjoy your evening!" before heading back over to Hermione who was now standing with her friends and looking over with confusion at the noise and commotion.
"What was all that about?" she whispered as he offered her his arm for her to link as they went to make their way towards the large doorways of the Grand Hall.
"Oh, just reminiscing with my old flatmate." he replied with a broad smile.
Hermione craned her neck to see a red-faced Justin marching hurriedly away from the press, as they turned the corner and entered the majestic venue of the Grand Hall for their evening ahead.