"The handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished! She plays and sings all day long."
Hermione woke late the next day thanks to a muffling charm she'd cast to silence the song of the cockerel. She stretched and yawned in her warm bed as a grin spread over her face.
It had been a very good night.
She got up and padded over to the kitchen, then made a coffee to combat the slight headache threatening behind her eyes. Probably shouldn't have had that last absinthe...
Sipping the hot drink, she stared out the window blankly for a full five minutes, chuckling one moment and sighing the next. Then she realised she must look like look like a lunatic and wished Ginny were there for a nice, gossipy post-mortem. She felt sorry for herself for a moment before realizing that it was late on a Sunday morning and highly likely Ginny was lounging around the London flat doing absolutely nothing…
Racing over to the fireplace and throwing some floo powder in it, Hermione muttered, "my flat," and dropped down in front of the grate. The green flames burst to life and she shoved her head in, feeling the breezy tickling sensation the floo flames imparted. In a blink, she could see her living room back home and Ginny bundled up on the sofa, nursing a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet.
"Hermione!" Ginny shrieked. "My gods, you gave me a fright! Is everything ok?"
"Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted a chat."
"Uh huh, like I believe that for a second," said Ginny, narrowing her eyes and sitting up straighter. "You hate floo-calling and I just got an owl from you two days ago. What's happened?"
Hermione blushed and wondered if Ginny could see it through the green cast to her face. Apparently Ginny could because she shrieked again.
"You got some last night! Who with!? Not Malfoy, he's in New York!" Ginny had moved fully over to the fireplace now and was right in Hermione's face. "That fit French guy? Rémy?"
"Um, well. Malfoy's not exactly in New York anymore." Hermione couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Arrgghhhhhh!" Ginny fell over backwards and punched the air in triumph. "Finally, finally you get some! And I win 50 galleons off Potter. Absolutely brilliant start to my Sunday!"
"OK, several things to unpack here," said Hermione. "First, I didn't 'get some' as you so charmingly put it. I had a very good time last night, but it stayed over the clothes for the most part. And secondly, you have a bet about me with Harry? You two are such TWATS!"
Ginny waved her hand, "Whatever. But it's only a matter of time right?"
Hermione's grin tugged at her mouth again. "Well, yesss. I think so." She was sure her face was red as a tomato.
"Tell me everything," Ginny replied, then jumped up. "Wait, wait. Let me get another cuppa and then I'll call you. I know you don't like the flames and that will keep Prude Potter from hearing all the juicy details. I won't be five minutes."
Hermione laughed and told her to go on. Once Ginny called back they had a long chat that made Hermione a little less moany about being a country away. Finally they signed off, with Ginny promising they'd split a nice bottle of Champagne with the 50 galleons once they were both in the same location and Hermione giving her a friendly two fingered salute in return.
She was still laughing and walking away from the fireplace, contemplating a bath, when she noticed a drab grey owl hovering near the kitchen window. She threw open the cottage door and the bird flew in, hooting softly. She untied a scroll from its foot and tossed it a few owl pellets before it swooped out the door. She smiled when she realised the scroll was from Theo. He was telling her he'd be in the area in a couple of days and hoped he'd see her.
"Lovely," she murmured, sitting down to write him back directly. Her quill scratched for a few moments, then she looked up and frowned, realizing this might put a bit of a damper on her plans with Draco. Or was she comfortable with people knowing about them? Draco might have told Theo something about what was going on. After all, they were best friends. But if Theo knew, did that mean Daphne and Blaise did too? Or, Hermione shuddered; Pansy?
She sighed out loud, putting her chin in her hand. She hadn't really had a long think about the ramifications of a public relationship with Draco Malfoy. It had all been so sudden and spontaneous and she had really been enjoying not over-analysing things for a change. But she couldn't ignore that it would be…challenging.
Staring out over the garden with unseeing eyes, Hermione continued to mull, a frown on her face. Then she remembered one of the things he'd whispered in her ear the night before and the searing way he'd looked at her right before he'd kissed her. Her expression lightened and she flicked her head impatiently.
Who cared what anyone else thought?
She tossed her head and took up her quill again, quickly finishing her affirmative reply to Theo and affixing it to the grey owl's leg before watching him swoop out into the sky.
~oOo~
Draco tried to concentrate on the policy meeting he was chairing for The Meadows' board of directors, but his mind was wandering freely, so he adjourned early and made his way directly to the Portkey in his office. A fast trip to Paris and then a sick-inducing floo journey to Provence and he was back at the Chateau. He barely glanced in on Lucretia and Astoria before declaring he was taking a walk. Ignoring his aunt's raised brows and Astoria's pointed silence, he left the grounds directly.
Whistling down the road, Draco admired the mellow late afternoon light playing across the fields and enjoyed the birdsong in the air. His long strides took him quickly to the farm Hermione had referenced, and soon he stepped into the wide courtyard of a gracious grey stone house.
A blonde woman, presumably Penelope Weasley—he thought he remembered her a bit from school—was there, brushing the coat of a tawny hippogriff. Draco approached slowly and called out a quiet greeting. Spinning around in surprise, the woman put a soothing hand on the hippogriff, which danced in place a bit. Draco heard her low tones as she spoke quietly to the animal, then stepped forward and held out her hand in greeting.
"Hello, I'm Penelope Weasley. You must be Draco Malfoy." Her smile was open and her grip was strong and warm.
Draco felt himself smiling in return, which was rare for him upon first meeting someone. "Yes, Hello. Very nice to meet you. I know your husband, of course, and I've heard great things about the sanctuary you've built here." The hippogriff was still straining at its lead, viewing Draco with obvious suspicion. "May I bow to her?" he asked.
"Yes, I think that would be best," Penelope smiled, stroking the agitated beast. "Wilhelmina is young and sweet-tempered, but she was abused by her last trainer and she's wary of men as a result."
Draco shook his head then stepped forward very slowly before making a deep bow, exposing all of his neck and shoulders to the animal. He'd learned a bit about hippogriffs since his run-in with Buckbeak at Hogwarts; a memory that could still make him cringe.
Wilhelmina bowed her stately head to him and he stayed in position until Penelope gave him the all-clear to stand up. He then held out his hand to the beautiful creature and she sniffed it delicately before allowing him to scratch her cheek.
"She likes you," Penelope said, looking amused. "She's bowed to Percy but she still won't let him touch her. She must prefer blondes."
Her eyes twinkled and Draco snorted softly.
"Evidently."
"So." Penelope leaned up and shaded her face with her hand. "What brings you to the farm...?"
~oOo~
"After I told him you weren't home yet, I invited him to have a coffee with me. I was a bit surprised when he agreed—he comes off so cool and reserved."
Penelope looked across the kitchen table at Hermione with a rather avid stare and Hermione shifted in her seat, peering out the farmhouse window at the high, bright moon.
She'd worked with the herd today until the last drop of light was wrung from the evening sky, not walking home until after 9pm. And when she'd approached the cottage door, she'd found a note from Pen asking her to come up for a chat after the childrens' bedtime. So after a late dinner, Hermione had wandered over, curious as to why she was being summoned.
She'd been surprised (and exceedingly pleased) when Pen had handed her a small piece of thick card stock with Draco L. Malfoy embossed on it in elegant script. He'd come to see her—just as he said he would. And he had a calling card. He hadn't wasted any time, either.
Hermione's heart had given a queer little thump at that.
She picked up her glass of rosé and drank deeply, turning her attention back to Pen. "That is surprising, but if he was going to warm to anyone it would be you," she smiled. "What did you talk about?"
"Mostly the sanctuary. He was very interested in what I do and we compared notes. Rehabilitating animals and humans isn't all that different, you know. Apparently he incorporates animals as therapy aids at his facility too, which I find fascinating."
"Indeed." Hermione tilted her head and a dreamy smile passed over her face.
Penelope's eyebrows lifted as she took a drink of wine. "So may I ask what's going on between you? I could definitely sense something in the air at the party. And his expression was unguarded for about a split second after I said you weren't here: longing and disappointment in equal measure I'd say."
Hermione looked away and laughed lightly. She was not used to doing this with someone other than Ginny. "I'm not sure there's much to tell yet." She fiddled with her wine glass stem. "I guess…I'm drawn to him and I hope he feels similarly?"
"Mmm, I think we can safely say he does." Pen's grin emerged, bright white and a little catlike. "And can I just say one more thing before I let you change the subject, as I can see you desperately want to do?"
Hermione laughed a real laugh and nodded.
Pen laid her hand over Hermione's on the table and leaned toward her. "He's just gorgeous, Hermione. Good on you."
~oOo~
The next day Hermione made certain to finish her field work early, so that she would have time to walk over to the manor and return Draco's visit. She'd promised to babysit for Pen and Percy that night, but she wanted to make sure she was prompt in her attentions.
And she just wanted to see him.
She showered in the cottage's generous bath and donned a pretty floral-patterned dress, anticipating his appreciative eyes on her, then stepped out of the cottage and walked up to long drive to the larger house.
When Hermione arrived at the chateau, Lucretia was nowhere to be found and the house elf told her Mr. Draco was also not in, but offered to show her to Ms. Astoria. For a split second, Hermione thought she might just go home and come back another day, but then remembered Astoria's bright eyes and lively conversation. She wanted to get to know Draco's ward and what better opportunity? Impatient with herself, Hermione shook off her nervousness and told the house elf to lead the way to her young mistress.
Following the elf through a part of the house she had never been in, Hermione could hear a sort of dull roar as they moved further into the wing. The roar got louder as they turned down a hallway and came to a door, then burst out all around them when the house elf flicked it open. Hermione realised it was music, specifically what sounded like Joan Jett blasting at high volume. A black clad figure suddenly launched off a nearby sofa and careened over to the door.
"Hermione!" yelled Astoria over the wail of the guitar. Hermione, who loved the song that was playing, couldn't help nodding her head in time to the music as she shouted and waved her hello. Astoria's grin got huge and she shouted, "do you like this!?" as she pointed up into the ether at the thumping music.
"Yes!" yelled Hermione, "Joan is a LEGEND."
Astoria nodded and put her hand up for a high five just as the song ended with an abrupt clang.
"I knew you were cool," she said at normal volume and Hermione laughed. "Draco and I were having a bit of a listening party last night," she continued, beckoning Hermione into the room. "I bought all these albums when we were in London." She pointed to a large stack of LPs leaning against the sofa.
"Brilliant!" said Hermione, making a beeline for the records and plopping down to flip through them. The Cure, Pulp, Radiohead, The Shins newest one, PJ Harvey, Al Green, Rumours and ha! Sticky Fingers. "You've got some great stuff here." She looked over her shoulder at Astoria, who smiled. Hermione took in the girl's petite figure and inky crop, wondering at the difference between this miniature punk and the elegant miss of a few nights before—not to mention the total contrast with her tall, cool sister.
"Thanks." Astoria looked shyly pleased.
"Does Draco like Joan Jett?" Hermione asked incredulously as the singer's voice wailed out another driving track. She was having trouble picturing him interacting with this.
"Mmm, he's more of a Chrissie Hynde guy," Astoria mused. Hermione smiled and nodded. "But he humours me. I can get him dancing to this if I feed him enough booze."
Hermione cackled, "I would dearly love to see that."
"Oh it's bloody brilliant. Hey, this one's almost over," said Astoria, "You want to pick another one and listen with me? I can get Mimi to bring us some refreshments." She wiggled her eyebrows and her shoulders, making Hermione wonder just what kind of refreshments she meant.
Hermione looked around, "well, ah…"
"Oh he went out to the practice pitch. He just left, so he'll be there for ages yet. Quidditch, ugh." Astoria rolled her eyes. "Why don't you hang out with me until he gets back!?"
"Yes, please," Hermione replied, any nervousness she'd felt having completely dissipated.
Astoria clapped her hands. "Pick a record and I'll call Mimi!"
A bottle of champagne and several trays of macarons later, Hermione was lolling around on the floor, while Astoria put on her favourite (and the best, take that, Malfoy) Rolling Stones album.
Hermione looked over as Astoria carefully lowered the needle to the vinyl. She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a teenager's company so much, although Astoria did seem older than her years. Hermione wondered idly if she'd ever met little Teddy Lupin, who was also a free spirit—and an orphan of the war. Teddy would love her, and weren't they some kind of cousins? She'd have to ask Draco…
And Hermione had also discovered that Astoria had a long-standing relationship with the centaur herd. She'd offered to help with any roadblocks Hermione might encounter and Hermione had gratefully accepted and had already been making plans to have Astoria accompany her into the field very soon.
Shoving one of the last macarons on the plate whole into her mouth and sighing with contentment, Hermione hummed along with the opening strains of Dead Flowers. Astoria grabbed an acoustic guitar she'd been strumming on and off and played along, then they harmonized on the chorus, imitating the singers' faux American twangs in a very silly way.
Hermione conceded that the champagne may have gone to their heads, but did not care.
She closed her eyes for the final notes and when she opened them saw Draco lounging in the doorway, laughing softly, his eyes warm on the scene. Hermione didn't stop singing or leave her position on the floor with legs propped up on the cushions of the sofa. But when Astoria noticed him, she leapt up to tug him into the room and push him down at the piano. He gamely played the rest of the song and Hermione was impressed with his skill and the way he interacted with Astoria. They were so relaxed and playful. It was a side of him Hermione had only glimpsed.
She was also rather impressed by the way he looked in his Quidditch whites. She'd never loved the game, but she did have a weakness for the uniform. And there was something about a good-looking man in a full kit just banging away at the piano that was exceedingly attractive…
Hermione realised she was staring when Draco winked at her. She stuck out her tongue at him and he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head as if to say, "is that a promise?"
The song ended and the much softer tones of Moonlight Mile came on. Astoria used her wand to lower the volume and asked Draco about his practice session.
"Very satisfying," he said with a long stretch, which Hermione enjoyed. "And you two look like you've been having a nice time." His eyes traveled over the empty bottle and biscuit crumbs.
"SUCH a good time," enthused Astoria, while Hermione murmured her agreement. "I love this witch!" Astoria impulsively threw her arms around Hermione, who returned the embrace. Astoria let her go and made her way to Draco, ostensibly to throw her arms around him as well.
"No, no," he held up his hand. "Don't come near me. I'm absolutely disgusting. Let me go rinse off and change and then I'll come back."
Hermione was surprised how the thoughts of a sweaty Draco and a showering Draco affected her, but tried to keep it to herself. Somehow the little look he threw her as he left the room made her think he knew, though.
She suddenly felt quite warm.
Astoria was flipping through the albums again when a small clock on the mantel emitted five dulcet chimes. She stopped and listened and then yelled, "OH SHIT!"
Hermione jolted up. "What!? What's wrong?"
"Shit shit shit! I'm supposed to be at my friend Georgia's house for dinner. I totally forgot because I was having so much fun with you!" Astoria wailed. "Will you think me terribly rude if I dash? I've already postponed this once and this girl will be in my class at Beauxbatons. I really want to cultivate the friendship."
"Of course! Go, go!" said Hermione, waving her off. "I'll be fine. I'll show myself out—or Draco will. Do not worry at all."
"OK, thank you so much. If you want to just go find Draco instead of waiting here, his rooms are in this wing but on the other side of the corridor and upstairs." Astoria blew her a quick kiss and ran out the door as Hermione called a goodbye.
Hermione kicked her heels for a few minutes, fiddling with the record player and examining some liner notes, then decided to go in search of Draco rather than wait any longer. Pen and Percy needed to leave for their date by six and she wanted to give them some extra time to get ready and give her instructions, so she didn't have a lot of time.
Her soft footsteps whispered down the long, cool hallway and she mounted the stairs, turned left, and walked through an archway to yet another wing of the chateau. Unlike the rooms below, which were more ornate and dark, this area was lighter and more open, with large windows looking out over lush countryside that rolled back in green waves of orderly vineyards.
Hermione savored the view for a moment before continuing on to peek in some of the doorways leading off the long corridor.
She found an additional drawing room, a small reading nook stuffed with books, a billiards room and a delightful outdoor sitting area—but nothing that looked like living quarters. Finally, just as she was about to give up, she spotted an arched door at the very end of the hall that looked like it could lead to a bedroom.
She approached the arch, peeking around it and suddenly feeling a bit shy. Maybe she should just wait in the reading room for Draco to come by? She whirled around, deciding that was the best course of action, at the same moment Draco stepped out of another, smaller doorway just beside the arch. She stumbled briefly against him and he grasped her upper arms to steady her. She looked down, then looked up and inhaled sharply.
He was wearing nothing. Well, nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. His hair was wet and carelessly brushed back from his face, although a lock had fallen over his forehead. His skin was flushed from the heat and steam of the shower. At this point, Hermione's brain stumbled—the male beauty on display was simply overwhelming.
His chest, the silken skin over hard muscle she had previously touched, was absolutely mouthwatering to view—finely proportioned, with long smooth lines that she wanted to trace with her fingers, with her lips... And the towel, oh god the towel. It was set just below the deep vees of his hips, vees that drew the eye down on a distinctly naughty journey.
Hermione gazed eagerly until she realised she was just very fully and obviously staring at his crotch. She whipped her eyes up, expecting him to be amused.
But there was no sign of laughter.
He was staring at her with intense focus and his eyes had gone very dark. His mouth was slightly open and she could see his chest moving up and down. He stepped closer to her. Hermione licked her lips. Oh God.
At that moment, a single drop of water fell from his hair to his shoulder and then meandered down his left pectoral. Hermione watched it, fascinated, then reached forward. She meant to simply brush the water away with her thumb, just to stroke the softness of his skin and say something clever about him having missed a spot. But instead her head went forward and her tongue darted out and she licked him. She licked the water drop that had come to settle somewhere very close to his left nipple. They hadn't even said a word to each other and she'd licked him!
And once she'd tasted him, she didn't want to stop.
~oOo~
The moment her soft little tongue hit his skin, Draco was lost. He moaned and dug his hands into her glorious hair, pulling her against him roughly. He was so fucking turned on he could hardly stand. He'd already been extremely aroused from standing in the warm water of the shower, thinking about her and lazily stroking himself. He was excited to be near her again. Eager to see her alone. Very appreciative of the tiny slip of a dress she was wearing.
And she was so obviously aroused. The thought of her flushed cheeks and roving eyes ripped another groan from his throat and he stifled it by crashing his lips down on hers, pulling her into a kiss that was hot and consuming. He slid down against the doorway holding her against him and tilting his head back. Her clever mouth caressed his lips and her fingers skimmed up the length of his body and down his arms. Each touch made him harder.
Barely realizing it, he pushed them up and moved her into his rooms, lifting her onto the back of a sofa and pressing between her legs. His hands gripped her hips and she pressed back against him eagerly, kicking off her sandal and sliding the instep of her foot up the back of his calf. Her dress was just a flimsy whisper and easily pushed up—really, the only thing between them was the tiny slip of her knickers and the cotton of his towel.
He had no objection to this.
He continued to devour her mouth and move against her as she gasped and began to ride him through the thin layers of fabric, obviously pleasuring herself. Draco felt like his head, or more accurately his cock, might explode. Then she threw her head back, sighing his name, and he really, really wanted to fuck her. It would be so easy—he just had to drop the towel, push aside her knickers, and...
He wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything.
But he also didn't want their first time to be a quickie on the back of a sofa with his aunt and his ward somewhere on the premises—and possibly nearby. So he very reluctantly drew away, pulling up to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
She seemed to understand what he was doing and also pulled back, stroking his hair and smiling into his eyes.
"Hi there," she eventually whispered in a smoky bedroom voice so hot that his hard-on throbbed.
He laughed softly against her. "Hi yourself."
"I guess I found your rooms."
"Excellent detective work." He began feathering tiny kisses against her neck.
"I missed you. Could you tell?"
"I missed you too," he lifted his head and slid her off the sofa and against him, then bent his head to kiss her lips softly. He broke the kiss to smile at her wickedly. "And that was quite a hello."
"Well you can't just go around flaunting yourself in a Quidditch kit, then appear in nothing but a towel and not expect women to jump you." She smiled in return, running her index finger down his neck and across his clavicle.
He laughed softly again, capturing her lips in another kiss, which heated again. He came up for air eventually, mumbling against her lips. "Are you busy right now? Tonight?" Visions of taking her out and then back home for a much longer, more explicit version of what had just occurred flashed vividly across his mind.
She broke the kiss, groaning with regret. "I actually am. I promised Pen and Percy that I'd babysit. I have to go. Astoria left too by the way. She went to a friend's for dinner."
He sighed. "Mmm, what a shame." He had begun nibbling her neck and pushing the strap down on the shoulder of her dress so that he could kiss underneath it. He realised he'd still never seen her breasts, which seemed unfair and wrong. "This is a very pretty little dress. I'd like to see it on my floor."
She giggled, but pushed the strap back up and stepped backward. "I really do have to go. Pen and Percy are going to a show in Avignon and I don't want to make them late."
"Tomorrow then." He held her hand and her gaze. He wasn't going to let too much time pass before she panted his name again. He could see himself becoming addicted to the sound.
"I am free tomorrow." She leaned in to give him a quick kiss, then pulled back, biting down on her lower lip. He reached out lightning quick and pulled her to him again, drawing her into a much deeper kiss. She broke it, laughing. "Draco, Draco I have to go."
"As I believe I told you once before, you can't just bite your gorgeous, plump lip like that and not expect consequences," he said with a half smile. "But, all right," he straightened up, "I'll let you go, but only on the condition that you go out with me tomor… SHIT."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"I forgot Theo is going to be here tomorrow," he sighed. "And Daph. And likely that wanker, Zabini. We arranged it in Paris last week."
"Not Pansy?" she asked quickly.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "No, not Pansy." Although secretly he'd enjoy that. She'd done so well against Pansy. "But I did tell them we'd go out. There's some party. Someone Theo knows. I think someone Theo is trying to sleep with, actually," he mused, touching his chin.
She made a sound of regret and his eyes swept to hers and then a rather obvious idea occurred to him. "Come with us. Join us. Please."
"I'd love to," she said quickly. "Theo actually owled me too and I'd love to see him."
He grinned. "Good, We'll collect you at eight. I think we'll use a portkey since they'll be so many of us."
"Perfect." She smiled back at him but then straightened, bracing herself against his shoulders. "And now, although this interlude was lovely, I need to GO, Draco. Help me find a fireplace."