Theretofore on GG:
"Looks like your team isn't so hot-to-trot is it?"
"Oh, shush, will you? Remember what happened last time you thought you were winning," he reminded her, aggravated.
"Well, granted, but that was America I was rooting for; would those in heaven allow them victory? Surely not."
"If you're so sure, we could take shots," Draco suggested, smirking evilly. Hermione mimicked him.
"Got any hard liquor?" she asked and he frowned.
"You're not serious," he stated, but seemed unsure. Hermione grinned and shook her head, indulging in a kiss fit for public, although they were technically in the privacy of their own home. The crowd cheered, then, and Hermione pulled away, eyes frantically searching the pitch. As she saw Blackwood making a victory lap around the Deuces' hoops, she joined in the cheering. Draco groaned and dropped his blond head into his hands.
-----------------------------
Chapter 5: To Promise
At ten after midnight, Draco stood from his little huddle with Hermione, who by then was fast asleep, and cheered at the top of his lungs, waving his arms and jumping. Even if she hadn't been rudely awaken by the sudden rising of her human pillow, Hermione wouldn't have slept much longer due to the harsh bouncing of the mattress. She spluttered as she sat up, looking around in alarm; she seemed to be the only one on the pitch who was still seated.
"What?" she called up to Draco, who could clearly hear her. "What's going on? What happened?" Laughing, he dropped down beside her.
"I'm sorry," he apologized lightly for his disregard of her slumber and kissed her quickly. "But that was the most brilliant catch I have ever seen." Draco stared with admiring eyes at the pitch, where the Denmark Deuces were making a riot with their victory laps. Hermione yawned.
"It's over?" she asked. "Really?" He nodded.
"I know; seems soon, doesn't it?"
"Hardly," Hermione said, chuckling as she gratefully removed her legerde and placed it on the floor beside the bed. She felt slightly dizzy as the real world crashed down upon her once again; she had just been getting used to the strange feeling of floating on a cloud. Draco frowned at her while he tried to remove his headgear, but the clasp seemed stuck in his hair. Hermione noticed him struggling and smiled, moving to help him. "You know, you're right. One does look rather like an insect with those goggles on," she noted, and Draco smirked as he waited to be freed, leaning into her invisible body. Hermione liberated him with ease, saving all but a few strands of his precious locks, and sighed, placing his legerde next to hers.
Draco let the dizziness pass before he opened his eyes, but it proved pointless as he was then startled by Hermione's proximity. He had sensed her while wearing the lenses, but hadn't anticipated her smiling face an inch from his. Taking advantage of the situation as soon as his wits were again about him, Draco pitched forward and captured her lips in a kiss, to which Hermione dreamily responded. She smiled contentedly as they broke apart, and Draco took it as invitation to continue. He moved toward her again, stealing another more intense kiss, and Hermione responded adequately, bringing a hand to hold the side of his face as her lips worked against his.
When Draco pressed forward, Hermione allowed herself to fall backward on the mattress, moving aside empty bottles and dropping her head into a bowl of popcorn. She laughed against his lips and Draco smirked, helping her blindly to push it away. Relaxing back into his kisses, Hermione groaned softly, moving her arms to tie around his neck. Draco was persistent, shifting to position himself over her, bearing down into the mattress. Hermione smiled against him as she began to trail kisses down his chin. Taking the upper hand, she moved her palms over his chest and dropped them onto her own, letting her fingers work at the button fastened closest to her chin. Draco, breath already laborious, kissed the bridge of Hermione's nose before moving farther down, marking spots along her neck and taking advantage of each new patch of skin she revealed while unclasping buttons.
Hermione worked carelessly and confidently for minutes more, enjoying Draco's presence and persistent touches. It wasn't until a loud chirp from the lower level sounded into the night air did she pause, opening her eyes to look curiously up at her partner. The little bird chirped again and again, repeating its irritating tweet for the whole building to hear. Draco groaned aloud in annoyance, kissing Hermione as if in apology.
"Ignore it," he told her in whisper. "I haven't fixed it yet; it hardly ever chirps, and when it does, it'll be thirty times on the half hour and never at the turn." Hermione took amusement in his declaration, laughing softly, and Draco returned her smile before starting again to tease her with kisses. Hermione made a soft sound of pleasure.
"Draco?" she asked, voice low. He made no move to suggest he'd heard her. "What time is it?"
"What?" he asked, muffled by her skin. "I don't know..." Draco tried to continue his enjoyable task, even going so far as to pick up where Hermione had left off by means of her plastic buttons, but she pushed him back.
"Draco, it's important. What time is it?" she repeated, looking up at him, and Draco sighed, turning his head up to listen to the chirping bird.
"It's an English sparrow," he told her, as if she was interested, and Hermione gave half a nod.
"Right, and?"
"The English sparrow sings at half past twelve," he recalled, nodding. "Yes, that's right."
"What?" she shouted suddenly, shoving him away to allow her to bolt upright. Draco looked understandably confused. "Are you sure? How can it be that late already?" Hermione asked, hurrying to button her blouse. Draco shrugged a shoulder, pushing himself to sit beside her.
"You were sleeping for a while," he admitted and Hermione moaned in frustration at having skipped a button on the way up. Draco laughed a little and kissed her temple. "Would you calm down for a minute and tell me what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Draco," she said, turning her head with a look of regret. "I can't do this tonight; I have to work in six hours, and I'm exhausted... I'll make it up to you, I promise." Draco pouted and Hermione smiled, kissing him quickly before moving to stand. Draco, eyebrows knitted in confusion, easily pulled her back down.
"Where are you going?" he asked, tying his arms around her waist to keep her in place. Hermione laughed softly, relaxing for a moment into his embrace.
"Home," she said. "Where else would I go?"
"Stay with me," he stated demandingly, before a moment of silence could break between their words.
"What? Draco, really, let me up," Hermione said, shaking her head, but Draco held firm.
"Please?" he asked, kissing her shoulder softly. "Just sleep; nothing more." She sighed, pressing her forehead to his temple.
"Promise?"
"Promise," he replied hastily, smiling into her skin. Hermione nodded, turning her hips.
"All right," she agreed and Draco grinned, kissing her before moving them to lie beside one another. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, ready for a welcoming rest, but Draco merely paused before speaking again.
"What do you do, anyway?" he asked her, honestly curious; he had no idea. Hermione frowned.
"Draco, please; just let me sleep? I'll tell you tomorrow; I promise."
He smiled softly and kissed the crown of her head, pulling her toward him. Hermione, already drunk on sleep, cuddled up to him and was snoring softly within a matter of minutes. Draco stayed awake a while longer, watching her sleep and picking popcorn from her hair.
-x- -x- -x-
Draco woke alone the next morning, stiff from the floored mattress which left no bounce to any movement. Hermione had left hours ago, judging by her provided timeline of work at six thirty. He sighed, sitting up and stretching taught muscles. Draco felt honestly disappointed; though he knew she would be departing early, he had hoped to rise with her and grant her happy leave.
He rose slowly, rigid and tense, and looked around the room for any note or indication from his hard-working girlfriend. There seemed to be nothing and he sighed, massaging his back as he shuffled toward the bathroom; the only room with real solid walls. It was there that he smiled, feeling less forgotten; written on the mirror in a cherry colored lipstick was a smudged pair of lip prints and the simple phrase,
I'll call you tonight.
Kisses,
Hermione.
Chuckling lightly, Draco traced the letter 'H' with is finger and shook his head as he rubbed the little red mark on the inside of his pocket. From the look of the bathroom, it seemed that Hermione had taken advantage of his shower stall and linens, and most probably had apparated directly from the lavatory. Leaving back into the main portion of his home, Draco moved aside the curtain and allowed himself entry to the kitchen. It seemed she had conveniently forgotten to eat anything; the carton of juice he had left on the counter was still in its place, the condensation had long since dripped onto the surface and created a puddle below it. Had Hermione even bothered to enter the kitchen, Draco knew for a fact that she wouldn't be able to leave the juice there; it would be nestled safely in the icebox in its place beside the milk. No, she had definitely not eaten.
This noted, Draco was struck with an idea. He readied himself quickly and apparated to her apartment, where Faye jumped clean off her barstool, emitting a screech.
"Hey! You know there's a no apparating in the living room rule!" she growled, righting herself on the stool and huffing into her tea and biscuits. Draco laughed in spite of her and Faye glared. "Hermione's not here, anyway; she didn't come home last night. I assumed she was with you."
"She was," Draco granted, nodding as he sat beside her and helped himself to a tea cookie. "I came to talk to you."
"To me?" she asked, eyebrows lifted into her hairline. Draco nodded with an arch smile, chewing carefully. Faye, in childlike revenge for scaring her, ripped the cookie from his hand and shoved it directly into her mouth. "Sorry, Blondie," she said, smiling toothily without care of the morsel being chewed. "You're just not my type." Draco chuckled.
"That's not what I've heard," he countered, resting his head on a hand. "Seems not a month ago I was exactly your type."
"Yes," Faye admitted, sliding from her stool and bringing the little cookie plate to the sink. "But that was before you started dating my best friend. And before I knew you. I'm not really the live beneath a cloak of darkness, sexily little mistress kind of girl." Smirking, Draco stepped down from his chair and went to stand behind her, poking a finger crudely into the small of her back.
"Hey, Faye-bee, you know you don't mean that," he said softly, prodding her. "Why don't you be a good little mistress and come give me some sugar?" Faye sighed and spun around, slapping his hand away. She wagged a finger in his face, looking rash enough to kill.
"Someday that's going to work, Blondie," she warned. "I'll turn right around and ravish you; then where'll you be?" Draco laughed at her, moving backward to retake his post at the breakfast bar.
"A happy place?" he suggested naively, and Faye threw up her hands in exasperation.
"Why is it that every time I see you I want to... to... pelt you with sharp things?" she asked, brandishing a fork found dripping in the drain. Draco shrugged, looking innocent. With a frustrated sigh, Faye dumped the fork back into its holster and approached him again, mumbling to herself. "How Manny puts up with you, I'll never know..."
"Technically," Draco interrupted, smirking deviously. "It is I who must put up with her." Faye stared for a moment, confused, but her face quickly contorted in disgust. She shook her head disapprovingly, not sparing him the favor of a comment for his behavior. Draco laughed. "What kind of mistress are you? You're supposed to laugh at all my jokes and flirt and bat your eyelashes and let me have my way with you. You're terrible at this, you know."
"Ha," Faye said with a smirk to rival his own. "As if you could support a girlfriend and a mistress. You couldn't afford the lipstick off your collar." Draco shook his head, giving up his end of their game.
"I suppose you've got me there," he agreed, lifting his index finger and thumb to create a tiny invisible box between his fingers. "Though you might be exaggerating, just a bit." Faye rolled her eyes.
"Draco, seriously, was there a reason you came to bug me, or are you just bored? Because I have homework and the taps in the bathroom are reversed. You could amuse yourself with that for a while."
"As tempting as that sounds," Draco began, "I'd much rather stay and annoy you." Faye shot him a heated glare. "Or... ask the question I came to ask and promptly leave upon receiving my answer."
"That's better. What do you want?"
"Where does Hermione work? She absolutely refuses to tell me. I thought I'd get a rise and surprise her," he said, smiling as he waited for her answer and approval. Faye just looked surprised.
"She hasn't told you yet?" she asked, eyebrows arched. Draco shook his head.
"She's promised to a million times but always avoids the subject somehow."
"And how long have you been dating?"
"The reunion was a month and fifteen days ago," he stated as if he had just checked that morning and Faye eyed him curiously, but did not comment on his quick calculations.
"Wow," she said, sounding as if she was genuinely surprised. "She must really like you." Draco frowned slightly, looking confused.
"What do you mean?" he pried, moving slightly closer in anticipation. Faye suddenly shook her head.
"No," she said. "No, no, no, no, no. I can't tell you. If Manny didn't tell you, she obviously doesn't want you to know, and I will not be the one that puts uneven ground between the two of you." Draco was now thoroughly befuddled.
"I don't understand," he admitted. "What uneven ground?" Faye sighed.
"Well," she said. "Let's just say that... you wouldn't be the first guy to walk out on her because of it. I don't want to be responsible for that."
"Are you mad, girl?" he asked, indisputably chafed by her implication. "As long as she's not a death eater, I really don't care what she does! And even then I wouldn't leave her for it." Faye chuckled dryly.
"If only you knew the irony of that statement," she said, smiling up at him, but Draco was seething. "Look, calm down, would you? Look at this from my perspective: Manny knows you a lot better than I do. If she hasn't trusted enough to tell you, who am I to make that choice?" Draco shook his head, standing from his stool and crossing his arms.
"Your logic makes me physically ill," he told her, glaring. "If you don't want to tell me, that's one thing, but you don't have to insult me so brutally along the way." Faye threw up her hands in exasperation and drew a paper napkin toward her.
"Fine. Fine, fine, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Have you got a pen?" she asked, still reluctant, and Draco tilted his head in the most meager shake manageable. Faye sighed and moved to the couch where her texts lied waiting for her to return from tea and picked through the masses to find an inexpensive plastic pen. She jotted something on the napkin and thrust it at Draco, who smiled at her, pocketing his makeshift parchment.
"Thanks, love," he toyed, kissing her cheek before disappearing and leaving behind him a loud and callus crack which nearly caused Faye to loose her balance. She shook a fist at the air, cursing.
-x- -x- -x-
Hermione stared down at the lifeless child in front of her. His records told that he was just turning six as she watched him; Hermione counted down the minutes. When the clock ticked past eleven fifty two, she sighed.
"Happy Birthday, Josh," she stated softly, lifting painted, pristine fingers to close the lids and cover his blank eyes. She sighed and said the Prayer for the Dead, then let go, moving to continue her work. When she turned back to the child, one eye was wide and the other partially open, and she cursed. "Drat. Not going to make this easy for me, are you?" she asked rhetorically as she searched her table of tools for her little bottle of superglue. "I can tell already."
"Hermione?" said a voice from the doorway just as she began the second eyelid. Hermione, startled, squeezed the little tube too hard and caused a large pool of glue to form under the boy's eye. Paying no attention to her mistake, she looked up, heart beating suddenly stronger in her chest. Draco was standing there, looking mildly surprised and amused. "Wow. Never expected this," he admitted, stepping into the room. Hermione allowed herself to breathe.
"Draco?" she asked, shaken. "What are you... how did you even..." He laughed, coming closer to kiss her in greeting, but Hermione stepped back. "Who let you in here?" she demanded and Draco frowned.
"Your boss... Emory, I think his name was? I told him I wanted to take you out for lunch... he called me 'lad' and pushed me all the way down here," he said, looking slightly suspicious of the man. Hermione allowed herself to plop down in the rolling silver chair that matched her tray of instruments, shoulders dropping. She nodded softly.
"That's Emory all right," she validated, pausing for a moment before she spared a look up at him. "Faye told you?" Draco debated lying for a moment, but had no other alibi and forced himself to nod, giving away his accomplice.
"For what it's worth," he interrupted. "I conned it out of her. If you're going to be angry, be so with me, not her." Hermione bent over in her chair, crossing her arms over her stomach and hugging herself as she placed her forehead gently on the bar of the metal bed. Draco noticed with slight unease that her crown rested just centimeters from the cold clammy flesh of the little boy's hand.
"Draco," Hermione said damply, breaking him from his thoughts of little Josh. "Say what you need to say and just go; please. You're not making anything better by stalling." With a deep frown, Draco took another step forward, kneeling beside her and placing a thick hand on her back. Hermione trembled beneath his touch.
"Now I'm confused," he said, somewhat condescendingly. "The way Faye spoke, it seemed I was to be stomping out... not thrown out." Hermione's head snapped toward him immediately, eyes wet and wide. She sniffled, wiping a tear just as it escaped its enclosure.
"You mean... you don't care? About this?" she asked, sounding amazed at the mere idea. Draco chuckled softly, running his hand up her spine and back down once more.
"Why would I?" he asked, grinning, but Hermione kept the dumbfounded twist in her countenance.
"But Draco," she started. "Everyone hates this about me; whenever I go home on holiday, my parents try to take me to counseling, Faye makes me shower for twenty minutes every time I enter the apartment... she times me, Harry and Ron avoided me for months after I told them where I was accepted to college, hell, even Emory thinks I'm weird, and he owns this place," Hermione listed, ticking off things on her fingers like a grocery list. She looked up at him. "I'm bloody Morticia, Draco." He laughed, taking her listed hands into his own and bringing them to his lips.
"Hermione, honestly, no; I don't really care what you do," he paused. "All right, that's slightly untrue; I don't really mind what you do. I do care, I find it interesting. I think you're interesting; this just proves me right. All I know from what I've seen today is that there are a lot of things about you that I don't know. And I want to, Hermione. I want to learn everything." Hermione was near tears. She laughed once, releasing all tension.
"Draco," she warned him. "You're touching my hands." He laughed aloud.
"Yes, I am, love. Wonderful of you to notice."
"But," Hermione said, grinning though she sounded unsure. "I've touched the boy; you saw me." Draco nodded, but refused to let go of her wrists. He moved his face away and Hermione splayed her fingers, allowing him to rest his cheeks safely on her palms.
"I don't care," he repeated. "They're your hands." Hermione burst into a tiny sob, dropping her lips to kiss the crown of his head. Draco smiled. "Well," he began again, sounding disbelieving. "This explains why you didn't want to tell me on our first date... but even so long ago as last night? Really, did you think I'd just drop you because of something so trite as this? Hermione, you know me. Probably better than my own mother; would I do that to you?" Hermione sniffled, shaking her head and moving back again to see his face.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she said. "I wanted to tell you; so many times... but I couldn't. Each time I would think of all the friends and lovers and patrons who walked away the second they knew, and I'd talk myself out of it. I've never met anyone like you," she admitted, and laughed a little. "I guess this proves my point." Draco smiled, but Hermione frowned again, continuing on. "I was just so afraid you'd do the same thing; I didn't want you to leave me." Draco shook his head, curling his fingers around the sides of her hands and pulling his face from between her palms.
"I wouldn't," he promised, kissing her knuckles. "I wouldn't ever. Never be afraid to talk to me, Hermione. I'll never judge you; I'll try my hardest never to hurt you." Hermione sobbed again, dropping his welcoming hands and pitching forward to wrap her arms around his neck. Draco returned the embrace, kissing her shoulder through the thin black fabric that covered it.
Hermione pulled back only to move forward again and crush her lips against his, invoking immediate response. Draco moved his hands into her hair, holding her head steady as he kissed her, removing any doubt in her mind that he didn't care. It wasn't until one of his hands wandered over her chest and past her hip to rest on the hem of her dress that lied neatly over her knee that Hermione pushed him away, breathing heavily. She laughed when Draco tried to return his lips to hers, eager to continue what had already been postponed.
"Draco, stop," Hermione said, giggling as she pushed him back. "As wonderful a story this would be to relive with Faye tonight when she drills me for details... little pictures." She tilted her head toward the pale little boy on the metal table at Draco's confused expression and he looked toward it in slight shame.
"Right," he said, moving back, and Hermione stood from her chair. She leaned over the little boy who was dressed in his best and a paper bib to protect it, looking now very much dead, and eerily so. Paying no attention to such a thing, she examined the puddle of glue beneath his eye.
"Let me just clean this up, and then we can go to lunch if you want," she suggested, using a painted fingernail to lift the edge of the glue puddle. Draco lifted an eye.
"'s that my fault?" he asked, frowning, and apologized. Hermione shook her head.
"It's all right," she said. "Happens all the time, actually; I get jumpy down here, it's always so quiet. Emory knocks on the door and the lipstick marks a cheek, I put on too much cream... once I was trimming nose hairs and he came down to tell me it was nearly midnight... and I clipped a nostril. I'm really just pathetic if you think about it." She sighed. "Nothing to worry about; a little make up can fix anything if you know how to use it. This'll just take..." Draco watched as she lifted the corner of the glue puddle and ripped the rest off in one clean motion like a sticking plaster. A crater was left behind where the skin had adhered to the glue and had been shed along with it, but Hermione did not seem bothered. "Not too bad," she stated softly, throwing the little slice of skin and glue into the trash can in the corner of the room. With a smile at Draco, who returned it promptly, she soaped up in the sink and returned to his side smelling of generic disinfectant. He kissed her instantaneously.
-------------------------
A/N: Are you creeped out? Have you decided I'm too weird for words? ::evil smile:: Excellent. Ha; wait until you read the next chapter. :oD. Beach thought this was a good idea, didn't you, Beach? You love me, you know you do.
God, I am so proud of this story. There's so much foreshadowing it isn't even funny. That in mind, predict for me what will happen in the future. Anyone but Beach... I already told her.