Chapter 3

The next morning, Draco felt the lack of sleep as he flushed down the last bites of breakfast with coffee. The dinner at the Potter house had been awkward at best with them all dancing around on eggshells; he had excused himself after half an hour, all tensed up and a headache threatening to take over.

Not that he had gotten any sleep anyway.

"Does Master want another cup of his coffee?" his house-elf asked with a calm voice, waiting to be handed his cup. "Master looks more tired than usual in the mornings…"

"I'm fine. Just do the dishes." Just as he got up to get dressed, he heard a loud knock at the door, and he couldn't help but sigh deeply. He only nodded when he saw the expectant look of his house-elf, and then watched her stroll out of the kitchen to answer the door.

Waiting in the kitchen, and wishing for a second cup of coffee by now, he could hear the door being opened. At least it wasn't his mother, as she always arrived using the Floo. However, he couldn't quite distinguish the words in the low exchange between his house-elf and his visitor, yet the voice seemed familiar, sending a tingle down his spine.

Seconds later, he could hear unsure steps echoing in the corridor, coming closer until his house-elf reappeared in the door. "Master has a visitor. They said it is important."

He nodded in acknowledgement, brushing back through his hair, only to sigh deeply when he saw who had come by.

"Hey," Hermione said timidly; she remained in the door, holding tight to her cardigan for comfort. "I didn't mean to interrupt your morning, but… but I couldn't sleep last night. Ginny told me a lot of things about you after you left. And now I feel like a complete idiot."

"You're far from an idiot, Granger."

She smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. That garden party was wonderful; I actually felt great that evening after feeling lonely for so long. I guess the article in the Prophet just brought it all back."

Rubbing his neck, he studied her for a moment—she looked about as bad as he felt from lack of sleep and an overactive mind. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, and she seemed to still wear her pyjamas, only covered by her cardigan. But her face was softer now than the evening before, her cheeks showing a faint blush while she kept biting her lower lip.

"It was a horrible piece," he finally said, smiling when he saw her shoulders slump briefly in relief. "And the situation is a mess now."

She nodded, leaning against the doorframe. "Did you mean what you said about continuing the charade? That I would be treated like a real Lady Malfoy with access to all the estates and stuff?"

"Yes. You'd love the libraries–"

"And you promise not to do anything against my will? Like touching me when I don't want to be touched?"

"Granger, I've learned the hard way how it feels to have to endure and do things against your will. I'm not going to do that someone else. Just be open with me about your boundaries."

She breathed in deeply and nodded. "I'm sorry. I forgot about that."

"Most days, I thankfully forget about it as well…" He pushed himself off the counter and reached for the pot to fill it up. "Coffee?"

"Dying for one!" she let out and finally made a step into the kitchen, letting herself fall into the nearest chair. She yawned heavily when he finally brought the full cups over to the table, only to cover it with a sheepish grin. "I had your proposition stuck in my head all night… and however I looked at it, I couldn't come up with something better."

"So, you're willing to give it a chance?" Watching her turning her spoon to dissolve the unbelievable amount of sugar, he took the first sip, relishing the bitter warmth on his tongue.

"Y-Yes. I could do with more events like the garden party. I–" A violent yawn cut off the rest of her words; she hid her embarrassment behind her cup as she had another sip to fight her apparent exhaustion. "Sorry. What I wanted to say is that I felt special again. I know we just pretended, but… you cared about me. At least it seemed like that. You have no idea how nice that felt."

"The breakup with the redhead didn't go smoothly?" he asked, wincing as soon as the words were out; he didn't want to upset her again with unnecessary intrusive questions now that she started to trust him enough to open up even just an inch. The re-established truce between them was still fragile enough. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that–"

"It's okay, I think." She shrugged, her smile fading into a thin line. "It was just a really bitter moment when I realised that we lost each other between our jobs and life dreams. Ron can be really sweet and caring. He learned a lot since the War, you know? It's… It's just… He's happy with his job as an Auror—and he's good at it!—but I just couldn't see myself staying home and playing the housewife and mother. I still want to change things, help people. I'm no Molly, you know? Neither of us would be happy… And that realisation really hurts."

He nodded in acknowledgement, adding a sympathetic smile when he saw the pain briefly flash over her face. There was a small surge in his chest to just move over to her side and do whatever she needed to smile again. However, he flushed it down with another gulp from his coffee, emptying his cup.

"Ugh. I don't even know why I just told you that." She rubbed her eyes before she ran her hands over her hair, only to sigh when she realised that it was a complete mess. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I mean, Talbot actually put me on leave yesterday, at least until everything calmed down again."

"I remember you mentioning him loading you with more cases?" Trying to keep his voice friendly and soft, he leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the table, head in hand. "Although, I get it."

"Thanks." Holding her cup tight between her hands, she finished her coffee, only putting the cup down once she had caught the last drop. With a sigh, she mimicked his posture, although she slouched more in her seat.

After a few more seconds, however, she straightened her posture, just as her eyes showed a defiant, almost mischievous glint in addition to the smirk appearing on her lips. "You know what? Your proposition would be the perfect fuck you to them all."

"You think?" He couldn't help but chuckle, admiring the re-ignited fire in her eyes.

"Yeah." Her smile broadened in response to his chuckle. "I mean, I really didn't come up with a better option, and I do feel like showing them. Maybe it won't be bad at all, you know?"

"Oh, I do hope to give you a great experience," he replied with a smirk. "After all, I get to show you off as the new Lady Malfoy."

"Lady Malfoy…" Her chuckle dissolved into another big yawn. "Sorry. Maybe I should try to get some sleep again. Could… Could you make me a list of everything that is required of a Lady Malfoy?"

"I'll tell my mother; she'll be more than glad to help you out. But I think all that is needed are attendance at some social events and the occasional outing in the streets. I'm not going to force you to live with me, although I do have enough guest rooms here."

She yawned again, more violently this time. "Damn it. Let's discuss this another time. I feel like my brain is shutting down."

"How about dinner tonight to discuss the details?" Amused, he watched her fight yet another yawn. "Tibby makes some decent filets or chops. So nothing fancy, just wear whatever you find comfortable."

"Sounds like a plan." After a nod, Hermione pushed herself to her feet, followed by Draco to let her out.

..

"Mr Malfoy, you have a vis–"

"Honey, how come you haven't told me you're married?" Pansy didn't let Draco's secretary finish and entered his office with an amused smirk, holding up a cigarette which was thankfully still unlit. "And why was I not invited to the wedding? You know I would have loved to make her dress!"

"Una, please, bring us some of your fine tea, thanks." Welcoming the distraction, Draco sat up, even stretched his legs a little to relax them, just as Pansy took possession of one of his visitor chairs, draping her legs over one armrest and playing with the cigarette before finally putting it away.

"I came back as soon as I heard about it because I felt a tad insulted that I wasn't invited to your wedding, you know?" Pansy said when the assistant closed the door. "I'm your oldest still living friend, and you didn't tell me?"

"Pansy," Draco started, leaning on his hand; he shook his head in amusement. "There was no wedding, I promise you. It was just a misunderstanding that has spiralled out of control by now."

"A misunderstanding, sure." She raised her eyebrow. "One that you didn't mind happening, right? It's like the next best thing–"

"Pansy, please."

"Oh, come on, my dear. I know you've had a soft spot for her for years now."

"Maybe," he admitted with a huff, "but the whole thing is a mess. I'm just glad she plays along."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, Pansy put her feet on the floor to lean forward. "I thought she hated your guts?"

"Yeah… no? Ugh." He let out a deep sigh. "I guess I don't really know."

Una's return to the office, balancing a tray of tea and biscuits, pulled him from his thoughts for a moment. "Boss, the Black archive is asking whether they need to update your RSVP for the end of summer party or not, now that you are… erm… you know."

Brushing through his hair, he shared a look with Pansy who only smirked in response. "Tell them I'll bring my wife as well. Thanks."

"Oh, you're so doomed, my dear." Pansy chuckled loudly as soon as they were alone again; she leaned closer to add a cube of sugar and some milk to her tea. "You really want to bring her to the Black Archive event?"

He nodded, reaching for a biscuit. "She agreed to it. My mother is already working with her on the details of etiquette–"

"Let me design her dress! I promise she'll be the absolute highlight!"

"Pansy, I-I don't know–"

"Please. I'll even do it for free… like some sort of apology for everything. Please! I know I can make her look absolutely stunning. You know I'm good."

Amused by her eagerness, he added a drop of milk to his tea. "Alright, come by for dinner this evening to discuss it. I'm not going to decide such a thing without her."

"I promise I'll behave and be nice."

..

"Ugh, I'm stuffed!" Hermione said with a satisfied groan that evening as she sat down on the sofa in Draco's living room, holding her stomach. She had chosen a spot close to him, almost touching his arm and shoulder, and now curled herself into a comfortable position.

"Yeah, I can feel it on my hips already," Pansy said as she claimed the armchair next to the sofa, as always propping her feet over one of the armrests, facing them. "I forgot how good a cook you are, Draco."

Draco couldn't help but smile at her compliment and leaned back with his arm resting on the top of the sofa, although making sure that he didn't touch Hermione without her permission. The urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer was strong enough, but he resisted. For now.

"Just a simple dinner, Pansy," he said, "but I'm glad it satisfied your inner gourmet."

Pansy mocked a glare but then broke out in a grin. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow during those additional rounds in the pool to get it off again. You know I have to watch my figure, and then you serve such a sinfully delicious meal. Hermione, you better keep him!"

Hermione shared the briefest of gazes with him before she turned her head away again with blushing cheeks and a sheepish smile. "We just… have a deal, that's all."

"Oh, honey." Shaking her head in amused disbelief, Pansy propped herself up.

"And I'm glad you offered to help, okay?" Hermione continued, now sounding more earnest.

"Apropos help, I still need to take your measurements, or else your dress won't be done for the party."

"Now?" Hermione asked surprised, tilting her head. "I'm probably all bloated–"

"Honey, you have a figure to die for, bloated or not. No wonder Draco–"

"Pans!" He shot her a warning glare not to say another word, only to earn himself a painful nudge in his ribs when Hermione discovered his scowl.

Chuckling, Pansy moved to get to her feet. With a lazy swish of her wand, she Summoned the bag with her fashion utensils. "Now, let's get it over with. I'm sure Draco will let us use his bedroom for some privacy."

"I have a guest room, you know?" he replied, sighing. He didn't like the mischievous spark in Pansy's eyes. "I don't like the idea of you two going through my things. So much for boundaries…"

Hermione stretched her legs to follow Pansy; biting her lower lip, she shot him an apologetic look before she finally got to her feet. "Let's use the guest room. I'd feel better that way."

Draco's heart, the treacherous little thing, made a jump at her words. She simply showed him respect and he had to push that flutter back down before it overtook him.

After they had left the living room, he let his head fall back on the top of the sofa with a desperate groan. Pansy was right; he was doomed. The hours spent with Hermione on the previous days, discussing their plan and their lives until late at night, had left him feeling elevated.

Oh, he was so doomed.

It was somewhere between delight about her feeling comfortable and relaxed in his presence and utter agony about the fact that it was all just a game of pretence. At least for her.

The faint sound of laughter pulled him from his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his face and then moved to his feet. Pansy was devious enough to let something slip to Hermione while taking the measurements, and he at least wanted to know whether he better leave for exile now, so he listened in at the closed door.

"Gods, I'd love to have skin like yours, such warm tones! Now, any favourite colours? And don't say red."

"Maybe something in navy blue?"

The measuring tape swished. "I see you more in mauve. Or berry. Or we could go all royal and use a dark purple."

"I love berry!"

Draco leaned against the door frame as silently as he could, his arms crossed. The measuring didn't take long; now he heard the scratching of a pen on paper.

"Turn, please?" Pansy said in her professional voice while she kept sketching. "You know, I noticed you two have grown pretty close already. I always told him that he should date, so it's nice to see you two so relaxed–"

"I-I don't think this counts as dating," Hermione replied with a faint chuckle. "But he's surprisingly nice and great to talk to."

"You'd be surprised…" Pansy's words were barely audible, probably just a mutter to herself. "Okay, I think I have everything I need. I'd say come to my atelier in two days, and we can decide on the final option; this leaves me enough time to tweak anything."

"Can't wait to see it!"

"You're going to blow everybody's mind." The door slammed open, revealing a smirking Pansy. "I so knew you'd listen."

"Draco!" Hermione hastened to pull her top back down over her body; he still managed to get a glimpse of the skin on her stomach, which only added to his longing to touch her, to acquaint himself with her every curve.

"For that, you aren't allowed to see the dress before the party." Her smirk grew more devious when she noticed his briefly absent gaze behind her. "You should tell her, you know?"

He shook his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. He put up a hopefully warm smile when Hermione joined them at the door, pulling her mass of curls into another of her lazy buns to keep them out of her face. "How about a drink to let the evening end?"

"Yes!" the women replied in unison, both nudging him in the chest as they passed him on the way back to the living room.

..

The days until the party at the Black Archive passed fast, and soon enough Draco found himself in his black tie suit in the entrance area of the Archive. Pansy had told him not to wait for them at his place, so he was now nervously pacing up and down the Floo exit, counting all the marble tiles on the floor to keep his mind busy, ignoring the busy noises around him.

Seconds later, the Floo activated again, immediately drawing his attention and speeding up his pulse in anticipation. He relaxed immediately when he saw Pansy step out, her own invitation and her clutch in her hand, sporting a black jumpsuit with a daringly low plunge cleavage. To top it off, she matched her shoes with her lipstick, a dark bloody red.

"She's going to blow your mind," she said as she greeted him with a set of cheek kisses. "Oh, don't worry; I kept your little secret."

The Floo announcing another arrival cut their little conversation short, letting Draco's pulse spike again, and he took several deep breaths to keep his cool to Pansy's amusement.

It was Hermione.

He gasped loudly when he finally registered the dress she wore. It was a long-sleeved dream in berry and dark purple, and his eyes were drawn to the plunging cleavage that had lace details added and the dangerously high leg slit.

Her hair was put up in a simple but delicate do, with a few strands strategically peeking out to frame her face. With a small sigh, she checked her hair for soot before she turned to face them with a timid smile.

"Pans, you are killing me," he whispered under his breath.

"It was her choice, just so you know," Pansy replied, waving at Hermione who joined them. "I think we did it, my dear."

"Oh, gods! It's too much, isn't it?" Hermione blushed furiously and checked her dress. "I've never showed so much cleavage before–"

"I-It's wonderful!" Draco finally let out in a breath. "I'm just… wow. You're stunning, Hermione. This is absolutely perfect."

Her cheeks still blushing, Hermione stepped to his side and hooked her arm with his. "You look rather handsome, too."

Draco could feel his cheeks burning in response to her compliment, just as he fought a surge of fluttering in his stomach at her touch. "Ready?"

"I'll check for drinks," Pansy threw in from behind with a brief chuckle. "At least wait until I'm down a few steps; I want to take a picture for my collection."

"Pansy, I'll tell everyone it was your creation," Hermione replied, mocking an eyeroll only to be betrayed by her giggle. "And get me a champagne!"

As soon as they entered the main hall, the room was filled with small gasps and excited whispers, lots of them expressing disbelief at the rumours spread by the Prophet to be actually true.

"Kiss me on the cheek," Hermione whispered, keeping her smile up as she looked over the other attendants. "It'll add to the shock factor."

"As you wish." However, he didn't exactly kiss her cheek but rather aimed for a spot just above the point where her jaw ended. It was incredibly soft skin, and he inhaled deeply to soak up every last wisp of her perfume. "I'm glad you're here with me tonight…"

She nudged him in the side, mostly to distract from her once more blushing cheeks. "Let's find the others and get this party started."

And all throughout the party, Draco probably was the most charmed of them all, unable to keep his eyes off her, whether she was next to him telling an amusing anecdote from work or just having fun with her round of friends who had also received an invitation to this high-prestige event.

She was wonderful.

And he was so so fucked.

..

As expected, on Monday, the newspapers tried to outdo each other with pictures of them at the Black Archive party; they had even posed for a few of them, barely able to contain their giggles and laughs whenever the present reporters tried to get a word with them.

And this time, Draco didn't care anymore that his growing affection for her was clearly visible in most of the pictures; it only added to the whole charade. So, for most of Monday, Draco was in a good mood, his smile growing every time a memory of the party flashed his mind—all the wonderful dances with Hermione, her laughs, the soft spark whenever she looked at him, and especially her repeatedly wrapping her arm around his waist.

He had come close to kissing her more than once that evening, aching to just feel those soft lips pressed against his. Yet, each time, and with a sigh, he resorted to a peck on her cheek, relishing in the blush on her cheek and the smile.

However, his mood was dampened by a short note he received in the afternoon, brought in by his assistant with a questioning look.

The note bore the official seal of the Head Auror office, so he immediately ripped it open to read, only to lean back with a desperate groan.

..

Malfoy,

We have a problem.

Ron is back from his mission abroad. He and Hermione had a fight about the pictures in the press today… I'm trying to explain the situation to him, but we can't find Hermione. She's not at home, nor at the Burrow, nor anywhere else I could think of.

If you know where she is, let me know. I don't care as long as she is safe and not hurting too much.

Potter

..

Throwing the crumpled note into the bin next to his desk, Draco made for the door of his office. "Una, do cancel everything left for the afternoon. I'll be out for the rest of the day."

"Boss?"

"Private urgency." After a quick, dismissive shrug in response to her confused stare, he closed the door again, only to step into his private Floo Network connection; he had an inkling where she was hiding.