Everything but the plot belongs to JK Rowling.
This is it, just this chapter and the epilogue! Eeek!
Chapter 15
Mid-morning on Monday, Hermione sat at her kitchen table with a cup of tea, nervously tapping her fingers.
"Goddamnit Hermione, would you please just fucking stop!" Draco growled through his clenched jaw. " I am trying to read! If you need your hands busy, go knit a hat or something. That's something women do, right?"
"I'm not Molly Weasley," Hermione chuckled. "Look at me. What in the world makes you think I know how to knit?"
"Well, nothing," Draco began, "but you need to do something to get your nerves in check. Everything is taken care of. You need to just relax. There is nothing we can do at this point. It's up to the voters now."
When Draco looked back to his book, Hermione let her face fall into a small frown. Draco was obviously annoyed by her. That's what happens when you spend so much time with someone. You get annoyed. Either that, or you start to find their flaws endearing.
Hermione looked at Draco's face, scrunched in concentration, it was an ugly expression, but she found it cute. She obviously thought Draco's little quirks were endearing, but judging from his harsh words, he did not feel the same way. Her mind wandered to tomorrow, worrying about the future of their relationship, if that's what this was. He seemed quite irritated with her. Why would he want to stick around with someone who annoyed him?
She tried to mentally prepare herself for his departure. She tried to picture what it would be like if she returned to the flat tomorrow, and all his things were gone. In fact, she was more worried about that than the outcome of the election. Damn, she had it bad.
She knew Draco heard her conversation with Harry yesterday, the one when she said she didn't know if what they had was serious. What did he think of that? Should she ask him? She felt like she had put herself in a vulnerable position when she said she didn't know, instead of brushing Harry's comment off. Obviously, if she didn't know, it seemed like it was something she was open to. She was more than open to it, praying for it really, but Draco didn't need to know that. If he didn't want anything more than a short lived fling, knowledge that she wanted more left her vulnerable to him.
Ugh, men. She thought campaign's were exhausting, but it was nothing compared to the blonde enigma at her breakfast table.
The only sound Draco could hear was his own steps on the hardwood floor. He slowly walked about the grand ballroom of the event venue he had rented for that night. In a few hours the space would be filled with people, food, booze, and unfortunately, the press. He was putting the last minute details in place for the election night celebration, and he had sent the venue's staff away because they were irritating him with their incessant questions. If you want something done right, you really have to do it yourself.
He had left a still panicking Hermione in the hands of her hairstylist and a bottle of wine. Hopefully the alcohol would rid her of her nerves, otherwise he wasn't sure Hermione would make it through the night without a full blown panic attack, and he might not make it through the night without giving her a particularly strong draught of the living death.
Hermione took a deep breath as she stepped into the ballroom at the Grand Marsaille Hotel. It was best event venue in the wizarding world, and thanks to Draco's shameless flirting with the very flamboyant concierge, they had managed to book it for election night. It was in this ballroom that her final foray into politics would either end or begin.
The evening would begin with cocktail hour, followed by a five course meal, and of course, more drinks. They had charmed the wall at the front of the ballroom to display the vote count in real time. Sort of a wizarding version of an "election watch party." Once the final tally was tabulated, Hermione would give one of her two meticulously planned speeches. She had heard Percy Weasley was holding a similar event at an upscale restaurant in Diagon Alley. Git.
People would begin arriving in around an hour. Hermione was completely ready except for her outfit, which she hoped would be okay. She knew it would be okay because Draco picked it out, but she was still nervous. The dress toed the line between professional and sexy, and she was worried it would be too much one way or the other.
Hermione had spent the whole afternoon while getting her hair and nails done panicking. Draco had insisted she have at least a little wine to calm her nerves. She had taken a few sips, but then discreetly poured the rest down the sink. She would have time to drink after she had given her speech.
She headed to what was to be her dressing room behind the stage. It was going to be a long night.
Hermione absentmindedly watched the caterers clean up the remnants of the party. She sat alone in stunned silence. It had been two hours since the results were announced, and she still couldn't believe it. She felt almost numb, still in shock she supposed.
After sitting for a few minutes, she let her mind wander to what came next. She hadn't really thought that far. Of course she had thought of what she would do if she became minister, but what about tomorrow? She would wake up and tomorrow would be a new day, and she had no idea what to do with it.
"So you won the election, what are you going to do now Minister Granger," Draco said in a faux announcer voice, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her small frame.
"Going to Disney World," she said quietly with a small smile. It felt good to be held like this after such a long day.
"What the fuck is Disney World? Is that a planet I don't know about?" Draco queried.
"Nevermind, muggle joke," she chuckled.
"Let's get you home, Minister," Draco whispered tenderly, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
"Sounds good to me," she said, and they apparate back to Hermione's flat.
When they appeared in her living room, Hermione's nerve's kicked in. Was he going to leave? Had he just apparated her home to be nice, and now he was going to go back home and they would pretend like their relationship had never happened? She had to say something, she needed to know what he was thinking.
"I know we never talked about it, you know, what we do next, um, with us, but er, would you like to stick around for a celebratory drink at least?" she whispered hopefully.
"Oh my sweet Granger pie," he smiled. "I plan on sticking around for a very long time."