Requested by a tumblr anon who wanted to see Draco and Hermione make the public uncomfortable with displays of affection. Thanks for the request! Come find me on tumblr at mrsren96 to request things, leave ideas that I could possibly make into chaptered stories, or even message me here with a pairing and prompt. Hope you enjoy!

Sick and tired of the press following them—it had been several weeks since going public—Hermione knew what they had to do.

"You want to what?" He asked, lifting a brow as he pulled a wine glass from the cupboard.

Her hands on her hips, Hermione drawled, "I want to ruin their photos. Aren't you tired of being followed no matter where we go?"

Draco poured her glass of red wine, pressing it into her hand. "I'm following, but we knew what would happen once we made our relationship public knowledge."

She sighed. "I know that, but it's absurd. I'm followed to work, into shoppes, and I can't even begin to tell you the things I've been called."

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

She especially didn't want to do that. "It's simple the way I see it. The Daily Prophet is the worst out of them all. But they can't publish anything that isn't fit for readers of all ages."

As his hip bumped against the counter, he replied, "I don't follow."

"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable, don't they?"

oOoOoOoO

Draco thought her idea was mental at best, but he wasn't going to complain if his girlfriend snogged him at random. Which, he had his doubts that she would actually do it.

She was prim, and proper until he got her under him. Hermione was too much of a good girl to do as she was hinting at. But it was clear how overwhelming the press was getting to be, so he supposed he would resort to bribes.

Or, that was his thought until a wizard with a camera asked about their relationship in the middle of Diagon Alley. "Aren't you worried he's using your status as a war hero to improve his name?"

Hermione's lip curled as she sneered at the balding man.

With his arms full of her purchases from Flourish and Blotts—of which there were many—Draco didn't catch her. There was a blur of dark hair as she lunged, and covered his mouth with hers. His surprise was muffled.

Considering they were in Diagon, he should have pulled away. Anyone could see them, and just because he was a stain on regular wizarding society didn't mean that Granger needed to fall with him.

But he was a selfish man and her lips were soft over his.

She ripped away from him too soon, leaving him dazed and confused. "Wha—"

"Does that answer your question?" Granger snarled, his lips bruised and her hair wild.

The reporter didn't say anything.

There was a blurb detailing their sudden public display, but no photograph. Hermione was pleased, and Draco didn't blink when she told him the good news before sliding into his lap.

A week later, it was Potter's birthday. While he didn't want to go to a party in a wizarding club, he didn't complain.

It definitely wasn't because Granger promised to blow him in the loo.

The music could be heard from down the street, the steady thrum of the music vibrating through the cobblestone.

Hermione drank—a lot—and yanked him onto the dance floor without leaving him much of an option. While she moved her arse against the front of his trousers, his hands slid down her sides, coming to a rest on her hips.

"You're causing quite the scene." He murmured.

She flashed a pleased smile as she tilted her head back. "Are you complaining?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, but Weasley is looking green over there." He reached around and gripped her chin, turning her head.

It was true. Weasley hadn't liked their relationship from the moment he found out—and that had been moment before the rest of the world knew—and Draco didn't expect his opinion to change.

"Ignore him." She shouted over the music. "I just want to have a good time and no one is—"

There was a bright flash around them.

Her face crumbled in disappointment before she whirled around. "Why can't you leave us alone? We just want to enjoy our night."

Squabbling with a pudgy reporter wasn't going to resolve anything. Draco snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his broad chest. Dipping his head to whisper in her ear, he murmured, "It's not worth it."

His girlfriend, fiery as she was, was already part way into a scolding that would have rivaled his mother. Deciding she hadn't gotten the point, Draco tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth to his. "I said it's not worth it." He repeated, his nails grazing her scalp.

The reporter was arleady suffciently uncomfortable, already turning away, but he didn't stop there.

"Besides," Draco drawled, just loud enough for anyone close to them to hear it, "you made me a promise."

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as he angled himself toward her, and blocked her from the pest that had upset her. "Right now?" She whispered. "But not right here."

He chuckled. "No, love, not right here. I don't like to share."

The reporter scrambled to escape, and Ron Weasley shouted from across the club as he Apparated out, with Hermione already tearing into his clothes.

It had become a sort of game as to who could make the other more embarrassed. They didn't spiral into absolute depravity, thought it was tempting for Draco after Potter had issued an amused reminder that he would arrest them for indecent exposure.

So, he's careful.

At brunch with his mother while at an upscale restaurant in Diagon, Draco's fingers sneaked under the table, barely moving the cloth covering it, and he brought her off with his fingers. Slow, even thrusts of his fingers while she tried to explain to his mother—and her future mother-in-law, but Hermione is the only one who doesn't know that he'd decided that long ago—exactly what she was hoping to do in the Ministry of Magic.

During a wedding between Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown, Hermione cupped him through his trousers in the middle of a slow dance, whispering for him to follow her to the stair way.

It went like that, back and forth, until their friends were fucking sick of it. "Don't you know that public displays of affection makes people very uncomfortable?"

It was a bit of an inside joke. Hermione snorted, muffling her laugh while Draco pressed his lips to her shoulder. "When was the last time you saw a picture of us on the cover of the Daily Prophet? They're terrified of us!"

"Terrified you'll start shagging in front of them!" Theo groaned.

And it has started as a way to get the press to leave them alone, but Draco couldn't say he minded be able to touch her as much as he liked.