"Everything nourishes what is strong already"
Hermione spun in a slow circle in her closet and sighed. He was going to be here in less than an hour and she just could not decide what to wear.
After a slight internal struggle - which had ended with her exasperatedly asking herself how she really wanted the night to end, she'd donned her smallest, most pretty set of underwear. But what to put over it?
She tapped her lips with her finger… The long skirt and tiny, ruffled crop top? Possibly too casual. The cool trousers and linen tank? Didn't feel very sexy- and she wanted to feel sexy. The extremely short, full skirted black dress with no back? Hmmm… maybe with the right shoes?
Suddenly a knock sounded on the cottage door. She started - fucking hell! He was early! It was only 7:15! Her hair wasn't done. She didn't have any makeup on… She tightened the belt on her dressing gown and hurried to the door in a bit of a temper, throwing the latch and flinging it open.
But the words of protest died on her lips and her mouth tugged up into a huge smile instead.
"Theo! What are you doing here!?" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the slender wizard.
He laughed and returned her embrace. "Surprise! I have been sent to retrieve you. Our mutual friend decided it was better to apparate rather than portkey, but is caught up in host duties at the manor, so he sent me as his emissary. We'll meet at the party. Also, I just wanted to have a cosy chat with you." He winked and broke the hug, holding Hermione at arm's length. "You look fucking fantastic by the way. France agrees with you. A little honey in your complexion and some gold in your hair?"
"Me? You're the one who looks amazing. Talk about tan - and I love this thin mustache look you have going on." She lightly touched his upper lip and Theo preened under her scrutiny. "And there's something else," Hermione squinted at him. "What is it? You look relaxed… Did you take up yoga in Italy or something?"
"Mmm more like I took up with Alessandro in Rome, Niccolo in Florence and Giancarlo in Milan."
Hermione burst out laughing. "Good for you, you rake! That's what you look like with that mustache; a rake. And these muggle clothes are gorgeous." She brushed the soft fabric of his perfectly cut shirt.
"Giancarlo works for Prada," he winked.
"Rogue. Well, now that you're a fashion expert, you can help me decide what to wear tonight."
"Love to," he said, sitting down to lounge in a chair next to her fireplace. "Show me your looks."
"Would you like a glass of wine?" she asked, going to the fridge and withdrawing a bottle.
"Ooh, yes please."
"Now tell me about this party," she said, pouring out two glasses. "Draco said something about it being a friend of yours?"
"I'd be surprised if that were all he said," replied Theo with a smirk, accepting his glass and clinking it to hers.
Hermione laughed, ducking into her bedroom to pull on the crop top and skirt outfit. "Well yes, he may have said your interest is more than friendly," she called.
"His name is Rafik," he said with a huge sigh. "And he's gorgeous. I met him in Paris. He's in the music industry."
"Muggle?" she stepped into the living room and twirled around.
"Wizard. But he works in the muggle world." He scrutinized her. "I think that's cute, but too boho for tonight." She nodded and went back into the room.
"What's the story for tonight anyway? What kind of party is this?" She asked, changing into another outfit.
"It's at Rafik's flat. He has an enormous roof deck and he hosts these soirees to showcase new bands."
"Ooh so there will be music?" She came out and Theo just wrinkled his nose at her wide-legged trousers and tank top. She chuckled and spun on her heel, heading back to her room to put on the dress. Hopefully it would pass muster.
"Yes, live music. The band is from Paris and very hip. The crowd will likely be the same."
"Aha. Sounds fun," she said, stepping out in the black dress. It was made of a fine, almost sheer linen with a boat neck and wide three quarter length sleeves that tightened at her elbow. It had a fitted waist and full, indecently short skirt - Hermione almost hadn't bought it because of the length, but Ginny had strong-armed her. The back dipped in a very low vee, where it fastened with shell buttons at the waist. "What do you think?" she asked, twisting around to look at her back, hoping she wasn't flashing her arse.
"Oooh," Theo sat up straight and made a motion for her to twirl. "Yes, he'll like that," he said with raised brows and a leer. She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed. "Wear your hair up, so you get the full effect of the back."
"Ok, Svengali," she snarked, but then went to the mirror and used her wand to whisk her hair into a bun on crown of her head. He was right, it was perfect for the style of the dress. She quickly magicked her makeup then slipped on some high, wedge sandals. "And I'm ready!" she sang, stepping back into the living room.
Theo let out a low whistle. "It will be fun watching him try to be subtle tonight with you looking like that."
Hermione blew him a kiss, but then paused. "Did he say something to you about keeping this quiet?"
Theo's brow furrowed, "well not in so many words, but I assumed…"
"Yes, everyone seems to be assuming that…" Hermione trailed off.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, concern in his tone.
"Not per se. I mean, I understand the reasons. I just - I guess, I'm not used to it."
"Yes," he said with a thoughtful look, "I'm sure people usually splash an association with the golden girl all over the shop."
She gave a sharp laugh, "well yes, that's the opposite problem. Anyway, no matter. It's all very new. I'm surprised he even said anything to you about it."
"Oh, he didn't. He didn't have to. I can just tell when he's happy." She blushed and he shot a smile at her, rising fluidly out of the chair and offering his arm. "Shall we?"
"We shall," she looked up at him and they stepped out of the door.
~oOo~
Theo apparated them from the cottage and they landed with abrupt pop in a stairwell lined with huge potted plants.
"Come on," he said, taking Hermione's hand and towing her up the stairs. They climbed the long flight then emerged into a scene that to Hermione's eye looked like something out of a film.
The terrace was huge, but broken up by a clever placement of furniture and more of the gigantic plants. Fairy lights were strung across the space and various candles and lanterns provided the rest of the golden glow that seemed to float over the scene. Groups of beautiful and stylish people gathered in corners sipping cocktails or cool glasses of wine and there was a low hum of conversation broken by occasional laughter. Hip music played from hidden speakers. The air was soft and there was a perfect breeze taking the edge off the lingering heat of the day. The lights of the city twinkled from every vantage point.
Hermione slanted a look at Theo, "Oh my."
"Amazing, right?" he grinned at her. "Wait til you meet Rafik." He scanned the crowd. "There he is. Come on." He pulled her again, this time to a corner sofa, where a group of people were speaking animated French. They were all gorgeous, but Hermione's eye was immediately drawn to a boy sitting in the corner, who had the most striking liquid chocolate eyes fringed by impossibly long lashes. Those eyes flicked up to Theo as they approached and a huge grin split the boy's face.
"Theo, you bastard! You made it!" He stood up and stepped through the tangle of legs to embrace her friend, who gave Hermione a very smug smirk over his shoulder.
"I wouldn't have missed it," Theo murmured, splaying his fingers against Rafik's neck. The two wizards parted and then drew very slightly back to look at each other at close range. Hermione felt the scorching wave of heat that passed between them and cheered inwardly for Theo.
At that moment the French wizard's eyes flicked her way, "and who is this chic creature you have brought to me, Theo?" he asked in accented English, moving over to capture and kiss Hermione's hand.
"This is my friend Hermione. Hermione, Rafik. Rafik, Hermione. She has a keen interest in music."
"Lovely to meet you, Hermione," Rafik said, smiling. "I hope you will enjoy tonight's entertainment."
"I'm sure I will. Your place is beautiful," Hermione waved her hand to encompass the space and he inclined his head.
"So what is on the menu music-wise tonight?" Theo asked. "You told me the band is from Paris?"
"Oui," said Rafik. "They're great. You will like them. Very warm sound, yet also cool? If that makes sense. They sing in English too, which is rare for French artists and an interesting choice."
Hermione was intrigued and embarked on a conversation with Rafik about the band, his work and the music scene in France. It was so engrossing that she barely noticed when Theo melted away and then returned with cocktails. She had nearly finished one drink and was still talking with Rafik and Theo, when it occurred to her that she hadn't even seen Draco yet.
She looked up to scan the crowd and immediately a gleam of white blonde caught her eye. She zeroed in on a familiar nape, broad shoulders, slim hips and absolutely outstanding arse. He was chatting with an unfamiliar group, looking gorgeous in muggle jeans and a collared shirt, with rolled sleeves, crowed Hermione's rat brain.
As she gazed at him he turned sideways and really laughed at something one of his companions said, his grin a glint of white teeth and crinkled eyes. Hermione felt her insides do a familiar slow flip and suddenly felt an intense surge of pleasure that he was hers for the taking. She also felt an overwhelming urge to walk over and wrap her arms around him from the back, kiss his neck and draw him into a dark corner.
It was like her lust set off a homing signal, because suddenly he turned around and they made eye contact. He looked her up and down for a beat, smiled a slow, smile, then mouthed, "Hi," across the crowd.
Hermione's knees went totally weak and her knickers definitely soaked, but she managed to be cool and shoot him what she hoped was a sexy little wave. Rafik noticed and followed the direction of her eyes.
"Ah, is that the mal famé, Malfoy?" he asked.
"The one and only," smirked Theo, also waving to his best friend, who waggled his fingers and winked in return.
"My god," said Rafik, clutching his heart.
"I know," said Theo, rolling his eyes, "I spent a good part of my early teens hoping he'd suddenly wake up gay."
Hermione shot Theo a look and he put his palms up. "What? I got over it like a decade ago!" he laughed, and she gave him a half hug.
"So when is the band going on?" she asked Rafik with an avid gleam. "I can't wait to hear them."
"About twenty minutes," he said, "which gives us just enough time for another drink and a smoke before they start. Hermione?" he proffered a chic cigarette case, but Hermione declined, the desire to find a certain someone overcoming her. She air-kissed the two wizards and made her way off in search of Draco.
~oOo~
Draco scanned the crowd for another glimpse of Hermione, but he couldn't see her anymore. He felt a prick of annoyance - he was talking to a very earnest young French wizard about the Meadows and seemed to have gotten rather stuck. They'd been chatting in a group, but the young man was so keen that his questions eventually drove the others away. Draco had answered him patiently for several minutes, but was now eager to find his witch.
His mind lingered on her as he tuned the Frenchman out. What was that delightful thing had she been wearing? Something very short that showed off her legs. He wanted to get a much closer look, maybe find a secluded spot... The trend of these thoughts put an end to his patience and he was about to be abrupt with his young companion when Daphne walked up. He used the boy's momentary distraction at Daph's lovliness to quickly extract himself and made a silent vow to make it up to her later.
Scanning the crowd fruitlessly for Hermione, Draco cursed the low, ambient lighting and abundant foliage for creating too many interesting nooks where people could hide, then decided he might as well have a drink in the meantime.
He moved toward the bar, nodding at acquaintances, keeping an eye out and wondering when the band would start. Suddenly the crowd parted and there she was - at the bar herself, deep in conversation with the bartender. Probably asking about the local Pastis scene, Draco thought with a curious little stab of affection. As he watched, the bartender gestured to something behind him on a lower shelf. Hermione stepped up on the brass foot rail and grasped the bartop with her fingers, hoisting herself up to look.
Draco's inhaled sharply. The extremely short hem of her dress didn't have far to go before it showed her arse and yet it lifted and lifted the further she leant. He could see the tops of her thighs and thought any minute he'd be seeing more. Maybe a slip of kickers, his brain supplied hopefully. He stopped in his tracks, gripping the back of a convenient chair as the dress crept up and his mind glazed over. She kicked her leg out so she could pitch further forward and Draco suddenly noticed the avid glances of a few other men near the bar trained on her, which galvanized him to action. He strode toward her and didn't stop until his front was almost touching her back, then rested his hand lightly on her waist and leaned down.
"Find what you're looking for?" he murmured against her ear. She straightened up abruptly and twisted around, dropping off the rung of the bar in a slow slide against him. He could feel every inch of that slide.
She looked up from under her brows with an arch stare. "Now I have."
Draco felt himself go instantly hard.
"You should watch what you do in this dress," he murmured, keeping his eyes trained on hers. He was still holding her waist with one hand, but had the other resting on the bar. "It's quite short you know. About one inch further over and I would have seen your goods." He raised his brows and smirked.
Her eyes widened, a gleam appearing in them. "Would that have been a problem?" she asked in a low, faux-innocent voice.
Draco coughed in surprise. Had she known he was watching? Gods he was so fucking turned on right now. Would it be ill-bred to apparate them away from this bar in the middle of the party? Probably. Did he care? Not really. She raised her drink - it *was* Pastis! - dipped her finger in the liquid, then very slowly and deliberately slid it in and out of her mouth, all while staring into his eyes.
"Only if you have an objection to being instantly taken somewhere much more private." He couldn't tear his eyes off her and they continued to just stare at each other for several beats, the whole party scene fading into the background, when Draco heard the decidedly non-dulcet tones of Blaise Zabini from somewhere over his left shoulder.
"Malfoy! Granger!" he was calling. "Quit eye-fucking and say hello to an old friend." He sounded drunk. Draco rolled his eyes at a grinning Hermione, but stepped to the side and reluctantly turned around. Fucking Zabini.
To make matters worse, Blaise wasn't alone. A very beautiful and bitchy French witch with whom Draco was previously 'acquainted' was on his arm. Just what he didn't need right now. His annoyance level climbed precipitously.
"Hello Blaise," said Hermione, stepping forward to kiss his cheek. Blaise of course took it too far, turning his head so her kiss landed on his lips. She drew back with a little giggle of surprise and Draco scowled at his annoying friend.
"Oh look, just who I didn't want to see," he drawled, stone-faced.
"Don't be an arsehole, Draco," scolded Blaise. "And you haven't even greeted Hélène," he continued, eyes sparkling with mischief.
The French witch stepped forward at his words, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and staring up at Draco with a come-hither look. "Draco, amant. It's been an age," she said in a smoky, sexily accented voice. "You didn't owl me after the last time we were together." She placed a slight emphasis on 'together' and pouted up at him, her hand sliding up his forearm to his bicep as she leaned in to air kiss his cheeks. She lingered on the second kiss and whispered something in his ear, her eyes flicking to Hermione, then drew back to smile up at him.
Draco very pointedly introduced the two witches. Hermione greeted Hélène cordially, but the French witch returned the most perfunctory of responses before grabbing Draco's elbow, turning him away and asking about mutual acquaintances in rapid French.
Draco heard a faint snort from Hermione's vicinity and glanced over. She was observing the little scene with a raised brow and bemused smirk. Hélène noticed her looking too and angled her body even more, tinkling a laugh at Draco and placing her hand on his chest.
Draco stepped back with a fastidious sniff, but almost immediately heard Hermione ask Blaise if he'd met Rafik yet. Blaise murmured something and then suddenly they were moving away through the crowd, Hermione gesturing animatedly. Blaise shot Draco a huge grin before they disappeared and Draco vowed to pay his "friend" back for this little farce. He'd wait for the right moment and curse him with something particularly nasty. Maybe an impotence hex the next time he saw the shit trying to chat up a pretty girl...
Draco snapped out of his revenge fantasies long enough to disentangle himself from Hélène by being blatantly rude. She walked off in a huff and he immediately went to find Hermione. He spotted her just as the band took the stage and started to play. She'd seemed to have lost Blaise and was up front with another wizard - someone who looked vaguely familiar to Draco, but whom he couldn't place. He was tall and dark-haired, good-looking. Had he been at Theo's party? Anyway, he looked entirely too fucking close to her, and she was laughing up into his face as he waved his arms. Draco felt his eyes narrow and his fingers curl. He was now actually ready to kill Blaise - and this dark-haired interloper.
Just then the roof lights dimmed and the stage lights went up.
~oOo~
"Oooh!" Hermione exclaimed, widening her eyes at Rémy as the lights went down. Finally. Rafik had been a bit optimistic with his estimate of 20 minutes. She turned her attention to the stage, deciding to focus on the music instead of wondering if Draco was still talking to that snotty French bitch.
Four extremely hip men took the stage and launched into the first song, which she loved instantly - it was, as Rafik had said, warm and cool at the same time - with a pretty melody and an interesting synth sound.
She glanced up to mention it to Rémy, but he was talking loudly to someone behind them - actually a bit too loudly, she sniffed to herself, giving him a dirty look and stepping well away from him as she turned back toward the stage.
"Don't you hate it when people talk over the band?" a familiar voice whispered in her ear. His breath tickled and she felt strategic parts of her body tingle in response. She arched an eyebrow over her shoulder. Draco shot her a half smile and pressed a cool glass into her hand.
"Thank you," she murmured, sipping the cold liquid gratefully - something effervescent with anise and lemon? Perfect for the warm night.
She held his gaze over the rim of her glass. His eyes warmed on hers before he straightened and turned his attention to the stage, keeping close behind her, but listening intently. Hermione felt a distinct sense of triumph that he had come to find her again so quickly.
Between songs, his breath ghosted against her ear again, "It wasn't nice of you abandon me to that harpy earlier." She could hear the grin in his voice.
She twisted around to look at him fully, her lip curled, "I don't compete, Draco."
His soft laughter drifted down to her. "Of course you don't. Neither do I." His eyes flicked toward Rémy for the briefest second. She raised a dismissive brow, shook her head once and turned back around.
He leaned down again and she cocked her head to listen to whatever he was going to ask her, but instead he just lingered there, his lips millimeters from her skin. After a few beats he finally spoke, his words whispering against her, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" Hermione's heart raced. Her knickers were absolutely destroyed.
She peeked up at him and caught a devilish smirk crossing his features, as if he knew what he'd just done to her. Impulsively, she turned around and went up on tip-toe, pulling him down as if to whisper in his ear, letting her breasts push against his chest and her hand almost touch the nape of his neck.
Feeling his fast exhale, a smirk of her own crossed her lips. She breathed in his scent for several seconds. Still indefinable, still delicious. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear. She felt, more than heard, his soft laugh in response as she pulled back, her eyes lingering on his before she turned around again.
They watched in silence for a few moments and Hermione attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to collect herself. As the band finished another good song, she looked over her shoulder and gestured to the stage, "What do you think?"
"I like them. A lot." She was gratified to hear that he sounded a bit breathless. He cleared his throat. "Great sound. Great style. The keys are brilliant and I like his lyrics even if his English isn't perfect. Actually, because his English isn't perfect."
"I think that makes up part of the appeal."
"Exactly."
They smiled at each other.
They were quiet for another several beats, then she felt the pad of his finger just graze the inside of her wrist, coming lightly around to circle it. Her heart sped. The touch felt intimate in the absence of other contact, and all of Hermione's attention focused on the one tiny spot where his skin was brushing hers.
Suddenly he tugged gently and spun her back to face him. She looked up, caught in his gaze, which was heated and dark. The band had launched into a slow, sexy instrumental piece as, for the second time that night, the rest of the party seemed to fall away and she felt like they were the only two people in the world. His grip tightened and he turned, pulling her away from the stage all the way back to a secluded little alley at the edge of the terrace.
He stopped only inches from her. Hermione looked up at him, tracing the planes of his beautiful face with her gaze, her fingers aching to do the same.
"It's very unpleasant to be here with you and not be able to kiss you… touch you, the way I'd like to," he breathed, seeming to echo her thoughts.
She decided it was time to cast coyness to the wind.
"Well, why don't you come home with me and touch me all you want?" she murmured, reaching out to run her fingertips lightly up the inside of his forearm.
He watched her hand for a beat then stepped into her, angling his mouth to her neck.
"Give me five minutes," he breathed against her ear.
Her heartbeat spiked.
He lifted his head and looked over her shoulder as if scanning for somebody. "Just to find Daph and Theo and tell them I'm leaving."
"And Blaise?"
"Fuck Zabini."
She chuckled. "I think Theo might be busy," she inclined her chin toward a nearby dim corner, where the dark-haired wizard was very enthusiastically making out with Rafik.
Draco snorted, "Ok, two minutes to find Daph. You leave first and I'll follow."