"Well, what did you bring this time?"
Malfoy slithered into the chair at Hermione's side and silently offered her the paper bag he was holding. The grin on his face was positively filthy as she took it from him. Instinct told her she wasn't going to like what she found inside.
Her sixth sense lied.
Opening the cache, she spied some sort of spicy-sweet snack mix—crisps, roasted nuts, and big chunks of dark chocolate. The scent that wafted upwards on the air made her mouth water.
Shuddering, she fought off the beast in her belly and handed the bag back to him. "No, thank you. I haven't had lunch yet and that will spoil it."
He shook the tempting pouch at her. "This could be lunch."
It was an act of will to say, "That is not a substitute for a healthy, calorie-conscientious meal."
As he sat back, allowing the bag to linger in his hand on their shared arm rest, he replied, "I never pegged you for conformity when it really mattered, especially in relation to a diet."
"Well, I do conform…occasionally," she countered, just to be contrary and bristling under the weight of his comment about her diet and what it implied. It was too close to things her mother had said to her lately… "Really, chocolate, macadamia nuts, and potato-starch crisps are not a source of good nutrition for anyone. And if you were implying somewhere in there that I've fattened up over the years-"
One of his eyebrows shot up, as if she'd surprised him.
"Fattened up?"
As his gaze sized her up to either confirm or deny the observation, Hermione felt her heart quicken and her spine straighten. She sucked her tummy in and held her breath, waiting on pins and needles for his verdict.
"I can't see it," he admitted with a casual shrug, "but it's your body. As long as you're good with you and you're healthy, who cares what others think? Fuck 'em." He rifled around in his bag to pull out a handful of snacky goodness, gaze turned to the action happening down below as the teams lined up for the whistle. "There's nothing wrong with you, Granger. Nothing at all."
As she quietly sat back in her chair, oddly relieved to hear his thoughts on the matter, she considered what he said. He was the first person in her life to ever actually tell her that body shaming was wrong. Logically, she knew it. She'd read enough to know that the rags targeting women were intentionally designed to force conformity to an ideal of 'femininity' that the patriarchy artificially constructed, but to hear it said aloud by a man took her aback. Even her mother had never been so supportive of such values!
"Thank you," she said.
He didn't reply, but he did hold out the snack bag for her and jiggle it to tempt her to dive in.
She did without hesitation.
~.~.~.~.~
"I don't believe you."
Next to her in his customary spot in what had quickly become "their" V.I.P. box, since no one else seemed inclined to join them for whatever reason, Malfoy seemed entirely nonplussed by her denouncement. "It's true. You looked downright edible that night, Granger," he defended his earlier statements. "Couldn't take my eyes off you, and practically every bloke there wanted to throat-punch Krum every time his hands strayed too far south."
"I'll have you know that Viktor was a perfect gentleman at the Yule Ball," she defended her long-time friend of the slander against his actions that one night years earlier. "The only thing he stole from me that night was a kiss."
"Your first?"
"Of course."
"Anything else he 'steal'…eventually, I mean?"
Hermione reached into the paper bag he'd left open for her to freely rob and grabbed another handful of caramel popcorn. "Not my heart, if that's what you're wondering."
She knew exactly what he was aiming for, but wasn't going to give up such information for free.
"I'm talking about something a little more-" His eyes strayed down her body before working their way back up. "-physically intimate."
She munched her candied snack, considering how best to go about answering the question. Finally, she settled upon negotiation. "I'll tell if you will."
The smile he gave her beamed with pride for her deviousness…and it made her pulse quicken.
"Alright, but you go first," he countered, "and you have to say where it happened."
"Fine," she stated, not in the least bit ashamed of her sexuality or the events surrounding it. Her first time might have been rushed, but it had certainly been exciting and quite novel. "It was Oliver Wood...in the Gryffindor locker room's showers."
Malfoy sputtered and had to reach for a drink to wash down the popcorn he'd been chewing lest he choke on it. "Salazar's balls, well that explains everything!" He pointed an accusing finger in her face. "You're a Quidditch groupie!"
"I am not!"
"No? Let's count up the astounding coincidences together." He began ticking off her list of sins on his caramel-sticky fingers. "First you kiss Krum, then you fuck Wood—at the pitch no less, and I'm assuming you shagged Weasley, too, since everyone knew you were dating that year after the war ended. I know you saw Pucey last year; word gets around in Slytherin circles. And now here you are, in the V.I.P. box for Puddlemere, when you and I both know you don't really watch the game nor do you care who wins a match. Face it," he said with a smug expression and wiggled his fingers at her, "you're just here to ogle the men in their tight uniforms."
Hermione opened her mouth to deny the accusations, but just as quickly paused, realizing there was a whole lot of truth to what he was saying. Every man she'd dated after Ron had once played Quidditch, too Anthony Rickett, Jeremy Stretton, yes, even that snake, Adrian Pucey.
"Oh, dear," she said and sat back in her chair as the truth smacked her in the face.
She had a very specific type, didn't she?
As she absently reached for another handful of caramel heaven, she said, "You know, I've never considered it like that before."
Malfoy tossed some popcorn into the air and caught it in his mouth as it came back down. As he did, she couldn't help but notice the way his bicep flexed and how his throat bobbed and…wow. He'd certainly grown into his body, too, hadn't he?
"Well, I did," he confided in her. "Thought about it, I mean, and it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? You're beauty and the brains looking for the brawn. Just missing that first piece to put it all together."
She blushed at his very blunt pronouncement of her attributes. "Er, why would you care who I loved?" she wondered instead to deflect.
"Shagged," he corrected and shrugged. "You didn't love any of them. And…because, I do."
Gods, he was so arrogant to presume he knew her that well and so irritatingly vague when it came to getting information out of him, too!
"Well, what about you? I told, so now fess up."
Turning back to the game, he munched on his snack long and slow, drawing it out before finally admitting, "Tamsin Applebee."
"The Hufflepuff who was a year our senior and a Chaser on their House team?"
"I fancied her arse in her uniform," he admitted, "and the girl could roll a broom like I'd never seen."
Hermione sniggered. "So, I'm not the only Quidditch groupie around here then, hmm?"
He chuffed a laugh, conceding her point.
"Where'd it happen?" she asked, curious as to his first time awkwardness, since he'd learned hers.
At first she thought he wouldn't say, but then he gave up the secret.
"In a niche outside the kitchens at Hogwarts, behind some ratty, old curtains."
Huh. Well, that certainly was a more uncomfortable spot than where she'd done it.
"The one with all the barrels?" she asked for clarification.
Her companion's head snapped around and his shock was quite comical to behold. For once, she'd left Draco Malfoy speechless!
"Yes, I know the one," she said before he could ask, "but not because it was a common shag hole. It's where all the best dried fruit was kept."
TO BE CONTINUED...