Previously on PS:
"Are we still on for tonight?" Draco smiled and shook his head.
"Why would we be? If Ginny's here, I'm not about to take you away. Go have some girl time," he suggested, brushing her chin with the backs of his fingers. Hermione gave a slight smile.
"You're not angry?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, but kept his smile.
"Of course not. Maybe a little disappointed, but that's okay. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow," he said before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione stood stock still as he spun and started away.
"You're not supposed to do that!" she called after him once she regained herself, and Draco turned, but continued walking backward.
"You didn't stop me."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER SIX: Flying High
Hermione returned to Ginny with a half smile. She was really quite excited about what her friend had planned... but for some reason, she also felt disappointed. She'd been dreaming all day about this date with her fiancé, and now... it wasn't happening. Deciding the best plan of action was to share these feelings with Ginny, the girls immediately began talking.
"Oh, Mione... you're much too innocent to be getting married," Ginny said, shaking her head and laughing. Hermione simply cocked an eyebrow. "Well," she continued, "There are two possible reasons you could have to be feeling this way. One, you think Draco is disappointed, although he says other wise, and two, you wanted to go out with him... because you LIKE him. And I don't mean platonically." Hermione opened her mouth... but couldn't speak for a moment.
"Do you really think so?" she wondered, sounding completely shocked, and Ginny nodded.
"It wouldn't surprise me, really. He worships the ground you walk on... you can see it when he's talking to or just looking at you. That must be why he made such an effort never to speak anything directly to you at Hogwarts... he'd have given himself away in an instant." Hermione nodded slowly.
"I think you're right. I've noticed it at times as well... but ever since I came back from your house last summer... it shows more. Maybe he just feels able to speak his mind now, without Hogwarts and you guys to worry about."
"And... I think, subconsciously, you feel the same way." Hermione shook her head furiously.
"I get a really funny feeling whenever I even think about doing anything remotely romantic with him... I mean... a date is different... we've gone to dinner with our parents, just never alone together."
"You mean sex," Ginny provided nonchalantly, and Hermione laughed.
"Yeah, something like that..."
"Is it an unpleasant feeling?" Hermione paused a moment and Ginny internally laughed, assuming she was testing it out... thinking provocatively.
"No... just... weird," the older girl finally admitted, and her friend nodded, as if in understanding.
"You want him." Hermione choked on nothing.
"What? No... preposterous." Ginny laughed.
"Yes... exactly. I know, Hermione, believe me... and I saw that kiss outside. Guess you're not as brother/sisterly as you made yourselves out to be." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.
"He's not supposed to do that... I made him promise... this is the second time, too." Ginny laughed.
"You made him promise not to kiss you?" Hermione nodded. "Until when? The wedding?"
"Until I see him naked," she admitted, and Ginny burst out laughing. "What?"
"And you said you didn't want him... boy, Mione, are you confused." Hermione, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, flopped backward.
"I am, aren't I?" Ginny nodded.
"Don't worry... everything will be clearer after you get married and have some... alone time. You'll realize what that funny feeling is... and what you feel for him. Promise."
For the next few hours, Hermione and Ginny conversed back and forth... mostly about Draco. Hermione was still pretty convinced that she didn't want to be romantically involved with him... although she didn't exactly have a choice... and Ginny continued to try and persuade her otherwise. It wasn't until about seven that they decided it was time for dinner and left the Boyce domicile, heading out for some fun.
First, Ginny insisted on someplace cheesy, unlike what Hermione was used to. As much as she played the part of a muggleborn, she was nothing like one. Like Ginny, and most other purebloods, she'd never tasted a fast food burger. The redhead, however, was a bit more bold, and forced her friend toward a Happy Burger.
Now high on milkshakes and French fries, the girls headed off to, but of course, a strip show. Ginny howled and drooled at the bare-chested men, while Hermione blushed into her virgin screwdriver and tried to look away. She was having fun... it just seemed so wrong. Needless to say, this stop lasted for very little time.
"Well," Ginny stated. "I've done all I can do. That's what a bachelorette party is, love. I'm at a loss... and it's barely dark."
"There was this one woman who got pregnant on her bachelorette party," Hermione stated, and Ginny lifted an eyebrow. "Really. The dancer was Asian, and both she and her husband were white. Do you want me to have an Asian baby, Gin? Because I really don't think Draco would approve."
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to sleep with the men... just ogle. And, if you were smart... you'd find the blonde dancer... just in case."
"Ugh, honestly," Hermione groaned.
"So, as I've said, I'm out of ideas. What next?" Hermione shrugged.
"Let's do something muggle... the French fries were good."
"Well, then... to the pier? We could always jump off if we don't find something better," Ginny suggested, and Hermione smirked.
~*~*~*~
Hermione trudged back into her home around one o'clock that morning, soaking wet, nauseous, and exhausted. She had offered to let Ginny spend the night, but the girl declined.
"I have to go back to school... remember?" Dazedly, Hermione touched her hand to her forehead, as if steadying herself.
"Bloody hell, Gin... I forgot all about that... is it Saturday or Sunday?" she wondered out loud and Ginny laughed. She had no idea why Hermione acted so drunk... she'd only had one real drink.
"Sunday now, which means I've got all day to sleep this off. I'm coming to the wedding though, Dumbledore's permission. Kiss, kiss," she stated, and disappeared with a pop. Hermione stumbled toward her door, blurry eyed and bed ready.
After the long walk to her room, complete with various bruising from dark tumbles, Hermione fell right into bed, without the slightest thought to her sopping clothes. Sleep came quickly, and Hermione cuddled into her pillow, welcoming it.
"Why do you smell like fish?" asked a voice, mere inches from her ear, startling Hermione beyond reason. Her eyes shot open and, after a shrill screech, she sighed.
"Dammit, Draco, you scared the hell out of me!" she mumbled before turning over and facing away. Draco, who was lying beside her, chuckled.
"Sorry. Are you going to answer me?" She moaned.
"Jumped the pier. Go to sleep." Draco laughed again.
"You did what?" Hermione pulled the pillow over her head.
"Can't we talk tomorrow? Shut up..."
"Technically, it is tomorrow..."
"Draco, please... I know you enjoy annoying me... but I'm tired, I'm nauseous, and I think I'm drunk. Just shut up."
"You don't even want to know why I'm here?" he asked, voice more amused than curious. Hermione gave a muffled scream into her mattress, then propped herself up.
"Fine... get me an aspirin, and I'll talk to you," she compromised, and Draco grinned. He lifted his hips from the bed, fishing in his wand pocket. With a flick, Hermione's headache disappeared. She gasped slightly, then turned to him.
"How did you do that?"
"Experience. Have I never told you how drunken Zabini used to get? Once he figured out how to smuggle in stuff a little stronger than butter beer..."
"Right... well, thanks. That helped, but I'm still not too chipper, so would you please just get on with whatever it was you were saying? Why are you here?"
"I was going to wait up for you... but I fell asleep. You look like you had a wonderful time... jumping off the pier. How drunk are you?" Hermione moaned.
"This is completely unfair. I could have seven butter beers and just feel woozy... but one fire whisky shot, and I can't see properly." Draco chuckled.
"Well that is a bit of a step-up... Fishlips." Hermione made a disgusted sound and fell back into her pillow.
"That was Ginny's idea. And we didn't jump... we borrowed bikes from these really cute French boys and rode them into the railing. We flew off the pier."
"Wow... you must have been smashed." Hermione shook her head.
"That was before the bar... after the milkshakes... and the strippers." She made a face. "I think I'm gonna throw up." Draco laughed.
"Be my guest," he said, but sounded completely contented, folding arms behind his head, a large grin spread across his face. Hermione looked disgusted.
"Does this please you, oh sober one?" Draco laughed.
"I'm imagining you watching strippers. It's amusing." Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "But," he continued. "I hope you know that gives me rights. I wasn't going to... but if you did..."
"Ugh, do whatever you want..." she said, turning toward the door and closing her eyes. "Just try not to impregnate anyone, would you?" Draco laughed.
"What?"
"Forget it. Go to sleep now, or I'll make sure your first son is Asian."
"I think that might be a good idea... the sleep. You're getting delusional."
"If only you knew."
~*~*~*~
"Mum, how does it look?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest not to move her lips. It was now Thursday, and time for the most unpleasant part of the marriage ceremony. The painting.
"Oh, it's marvelous, love," answered Madeline, who was watching the scrawny old man with a French painter's cap apply tiny brush strokes to what must have been a very detailed portrait. Hermione sighed. At least her mother was pleased... that was the reasoning behind most of the things she did these days. Her mother's happiness. She could always go home and complain to Hunter. He'd gotten her and Draco out of a cast iron mold of their intertwined hands... but only with the promise that she would make one of her body, once they conceived their first offspring.
"Can't we just leave him a picture and leave?" Madeline looked disapproving.
"Shh, Mina. You're interrupting art." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to the window, which she had mercifully been positioned in front of. She stood in an elegant pose, wearing her wedding dress, chin pointed upward. Hermione hoped upon hope that it would be over soon... she'd been standing there for well onto three hours, and still... the man painted. With a sigh, she watched the boring landscape. Better than a wall, she assumed, but still not as well as could have hoped.
But then, as she watched, three blondes strode into the picture.
"Mum..." she mumbled, but Madeline didn't understand.
"Don't worry dear, he's nearly half done."
"No, Mum... Draco..." Madeline looked up and Hermione jutted her head toward the window. Her mother turned slightly to see, and was met with the cheery scene of Draco, Hazel, and Lucifer, all taking a morning stroll.
"Oh, dear." Before her mother could make it to the window, however, Lucifer saw them.
~*~
"And then, Mum told the witch to sod off, and she..." Lucifer rambled, but suddenly, he stopped. Walking, talking... probably breathing. "Wow..."
"What?" Draco asked, furrowing his eyebrows and turning toward the element that rendered his brother speechless.
"Gah!" Lucifer intervened, "Don't look, she'd kill me," he stated, covering Draco's eyes.
"What the devil are you on about?" Luckily, it only took a moment for Mrs. Granger to close the great brown drapes of the Malfoy Manor ballroom, and he could let go.
"Hermione," Lucifer explained, and Draco looked confused. He tried his hardest not to turn around.
"What? What about her?" Draco asked, sounding curious, then his eyebrows narrowed. "Was she naked?" Lucifer laughed.
"No, you git. She was in the ballroom," he said, pointing to the now closed curtains, and Draco turned to see. "Fully clothed."
"Then what was so wow about it?"
"You know that thing we have to do on Saturday?" Lucifer started, continuing to walk and lifting Hazel a bit more onto his hip. Draco rolled his eyes and followed.
"No, I've forgotten all about it," he replied sarcastically.
"What do you think Hermione's going to wear?" Lucifer asked curiously, as if he really wondered, but Draco got the message.
"Oh... right. She'd have killed me too."
~*~
Hermione sighed again. She had sacrificed her view of the Malfoy grounds, just so Draco wouldn't see her. It had been close. He'd turned, but her Mum had closed the drapes just in time. Now the room was lit only by the ceiling chandeliers, which were made for late night parties, and didn't do much for the mood.
"Mum," Hermione said thought strained teeth, and her mother was getting a bit annoyed.
"Oh, shush up before I have to body bind you."
"But Mum, I need a..."
"Mobulus Corpus," Madeline said, sounding exasperated, and shifted slightly in her chair. "I warned you love. We're almost done." Hermione, of course, was unable to articulate a response, so she set into thinking.
Draco had almost seen her. That wasn't part of tradition... he wasn't supposed to. Lucifer had definitely seen, but that didn't much matter. Thinking of this, Hermione was reminded of the night before... when Draco returned from his bachelor party, in which he was escorted by Lucifer. Like Ginny, they'd assumed strippers were proper etiquette, but, unlike the girls, they'd gotten themselves piss arse drunk. Draco, in fact, had woken her just before dawn that morning by falling through her window. When she'd come to his aid, he began spouting Shakespearian lyrics, jumbled and combined from random plays.
When she'd informed him that he wasn't making any sense, Draco returned to modern English, and wrote his own warped poetry. Hermione had shoved a sleeping draft into his mouth and levitated him into bed, then flipped off Lucifer, who was rolling around on her lawn, clutching his sides in laughter. Evidently, he could hold his liquor and sane mind a bit better than his little brother. Hermione had left Draco not three hours later, as she was due in the ballroom at eight AM. She'd left a simple note:
Drakey,
If you ever get that bloody hammered again, I'll tell your mother. Feel better, I'm off for more pre-wedding torture.
Love,
~H'mione
and hadn't seen him since, save the view from the window.
~*~
As the minutes ticked, like hours, even Madeline was beginning to grow impatient. The painting, of course, was beautiful... but it was taking so long.
"Are you nearly finished, Mousier?" she asked, and then man grinned. Madeline had long since stopped watching his hand motions, and honestly didn't know if he'd made even a mark since she'd frozen her daughter.
"And," the man cackled, making a tiny mark with the brush. "Merveilleux." He stepped aside to allow Mrs. Granger to view the masterpiece, and she gasped.
"Mousier, it's perfect. Alright, love, come see," Madeline called, beckoning her daughter, but Hermione remained still.
"Madam," interrupted the painter, and Madeline looked up. He made a swishing motion with his hand, and she lifted an eyebrow.
"Oh!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed before back handing a 'finite incantrum' at her daughter. "Hermione, come..." she started, eyes back on the painting, but a loud thump interrupted her. Instinctually, Madeline turned her head to the sound, only to see her daughter collapsed on the floor.
~*~*~*~
Draco literally flew into the outer wall of the Boyce house as he went for the trellis that night. In fact, it was only late afternoon... about four o'clock. Much earlier than usual.
"Krikey," he mumbled to himself, pressing fingers to the now throbbing cut on his forehead. After a moment of self pity, he started up the trellis, like lightning. Before he made it to the top, however, a figure leaned out the window.
"Draco? What are you doing? Are you drunk again?" Hermione called down and he stopped in his tracks.
"What am *I* doing?" he called back, "What are YOU doing? Shouldn't you be... I don't know, sleeping?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.
"At four in the afternoon? Alright," she accused, "How much did you have?"
"I'm not drunk," he promised. "I heard about this morning. What happened?" Hermione sighed.
"Alright, come up here before the whole town hears you...and try not to get too much blood on my flowers. They're white for a reason," she told him, before disappearing back into her room, and Draco climbed to the top. She was waiting with a wet cloth when he got there.
"Hermione," he said, trying to stop her, but she went about dabbing as if there was nothing to discuss.
"So, reasoning behind slamming yourself into my house?"
"Ow..." he mumbled, taking the cloth from her hand. Hermione smiled sadly, ignoring his actions and continuing to inspect the little cut above his eye.
"The photographer is going to kill me. He specifically said not to let anyone in the party get hurt... and I daresay I couldn't have picked someone of more importance."
"Aw, stop fussing and go get back in bed." Hermione quirked an eyebrow.
"How do you know I was in bed?"
"You're wearing pajamas," he stated, and Hermione looked down.
"So what?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe I didn't feel like getting dressed after wearing that dress for so damn long."
"Bed covers upturned," Draco pointed out again, and she turned her nose up.
"Maybe I didn't make my bed this morning." He snorted.
"Yeah, right." Hermione didn't say a word, so he climbed through her window and pulled her toward the bed. After she was at least seated, Draco lost his amused smile. "What happened?" Hermione rolled her eyes and got into bed, pulling the covers over her face. Draco sat down. "Come on, tell me something."
"There's nothing to tell."
"That's not what Mum said." She sighed and folded the covers to her chin.
"Well... Mum hired this scrawny old French guy to paint a portrait of me in my dress... it's sort of tradition... anyway... it was very boring, and I sort of kept telling them so... so Mum got a little annoyed. Then, I tried to ask for a glass of water and she immobilized me... and you wouldn't believe how hot it is in your ballroom with all the window closed and the candles lit... plus, I was wearing that dress and standing near the fireplace... well, somewhere along the line, I passed out... then, when they were done, Mum took off the spell and I just sort of collapsed. Dehydration is all. I'm fine, I don't know what her problem is, making me stay up here... if she knew I walked to the window, I bet she'd bring me a water pitcher." Draco sighed a bit.
"That's it?" Hermione nodded. "Mum made it sound like you'd fallen off a building or something." She laughed.
"Or ran into one. What exactly were you doing outside? If I was sleeping, I doubt I'd be now." He gave a lopsided smile.
"Sorry. I was in a bit of a hurry to get here, I suppose. Forgot to stop walking."
"Aw... were you worried?" Hermione asked, pouting, and Draco shrugged.
"Maybe just a little. Is that why you left so early this morning?" Hermione smiled a bit.
"Yes... Mum specified eight o'clock, but I was still late. Speaking of this morning, however, did you get over that hangover all right?" Draco laughed.
"Oh yeah, I'm good. Was I really as much of an idiot as Lucifer says?"
"More so, I'd imagine," she admitted and Draco sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried, and Draco quirked an eyebrow at her.
"See what?"
"You walked past my window this morning..."
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."
~*~*~*~
A/N: Sorry it took so long... I wrote a chapter of FLYT, and they tend to take longer, as they tend to BE longer. The lost the found and the brokenhearted was thirty pages long. Lol.
"Are we still on for tonight?" Draco smiled and shook his head.
"Why would we be? If Ginny's here, I'm not about to take you away. Go have some girl time," he suggested, brushing her chin with the backs of his fingers. Hermione gave a slight smile.
"You're not angry?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, but kept his smile.
"Of course not. Maybe a little disappointed, but that's okay. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow," he said before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione stood stock still as he spun and started away.
"You're not supposed to do that!" she called after him once she regained herself, and Draco turned, but continued walking backward.
"You didn't stop me."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER SIX: Flying High
Hermione returned to Ginny with a half smile. She was really quite excited about what her friend had planned... but for some reason, she also felt disappointed. She'd been dreaming all day about this date with her fiancé, and now... it wasn't happening. Deciding the best plan of action was to share these feelings with Ginny, the girls immediately began talking.
"Oh, Mione... you're much too innocent to be getting married," Ginny said, shaking her head and laughing. Hermione simply cocked an eyebrow. "Well," she continued, "There are two possible reasons you could have to be feeling this way. One, you think Draco is disappointed, although he says other wise, and two, you wanted to go out with him... because you LIKE him. And I don't mean platonically." Hermione opened her mouth... but couldn't speak for a moment.
"Do you really think so?" she wondered, sounding completely shocked, and Ginny nodded.
"It wouldn't surprise me, really. He worships the ground you walk on... you can see it when he's talking to or just looking at you. That must be why he made such an effort never to speak anything directly to you at Hogwarts... he'd have given himself away in an instant." Hermione nodded slowly.
"I think you're right. I've noticed it at times as well... but ever since I came back from your house last summer... it shows more. Maybe he just feels able to speak his mind now, without Hogwarts and you guys to worry about."
"And... I think, subconsciously, you feel the same way." Hermione shook her head furiously.
"I get a really funny feeling whenever I even think about doing anything remotely romantic with him... I mean... a date is different... we've gone to dinner with our parents, just never alone together."
"You mean sex," Ginny provided nonchalantly, and Hermione laughed.
"Yeah, something like that..."
"Is it an unpleasant feeling?" Hermione paused a moment and Ginny internally laughed, assuming she was testing it out... thinking provocatively.
"No... just... weird," the older girl finally admitted, and her friend nodded, as if in understanding.
"You want him." Hermione choked on nothing.
"What? No... preposterous." Ginny laughed.
"Yes... exactly. I know, Hermione, believe me... and I saw that kiss outside. Guess you're not as brother/sisterly as you made yourselves out to be." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.
"He's not supposed to do that... I made him promise... this is the second time, too." Ginny laughed.
"You made him promise not to kiss you?" Hermione nodded. "Until when? The wedding?"
"Until I see him naked," she admitted, and Ginny burst out laughing. "What?"
"And you said you didn't want him... boy, Mione, are you confused." Hermione, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, flopped backward.
"I am, aren't I?" Ginny nodded.
"Don't worry... everything will be clearer after you get married and have some... alone time. You'll realize what that funny feeling is... and what you feel for him. Promise."
For the next few hours, Hermione and Ginny conversed back and forth... mostly about Draco. Hermione was still pretty convinced that she didn't want to be romantically involved with him... although she didn't exactly have a choice... and Ginny continued to try and persuade her otherwise. It wasn't until about seven that they decided it was time for dinner and left the Boyce domicile, heading out for some fun.
First, Ginny insisted on someplace cheesy, unlike what Hermione was used to. As much as she played the part of a muggleborn, she was nothing like one. Like Ginny, and most other purebloods, she'd never tasted a fast food burger. The redhead, however, was a bit more bold, and forced her friend toward a Happy Burger.
Now high on milkshakes and French fries, the girls headed off to, but of course, a strip show. Ginny howled and drooled at the bare-chested men, while Hermione blushed into her virgin screwdriver and tried to look away. She was having fun... it just seemed so wrong. Needless to say, this stop lasted for very little time.
"Well," Ginny stated. "I've done all I can do. That's what a bachelorette party is, love. I'm at a loss... and it's barely dark."
"There was this one woman who got pregnant on her bachelorette party," Hermione stated, and Ginny lifted an eyebrow. "Really. The dancer was Asian, and both she and her husband were white. Do you want me to have an Asian baby, Gin? Because I really don't think Draco would approve."
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to sleep with the men... just ogle. And, if you were smart... you'd find the blonde dancer... just in case."
"Ugh, honestly," Hermione groaned.
"So, as I've said, I'm out of ideas. What next?" Hermione shrugged.
"Let's do something muggle... the French fries were good."
"Well, then... to the pier? We could always jump off if we don't find something better," Ginny suggested, and Hermione smirked.
~*~*~*~
Hermione trudged back into her home around one o'clock that morning, soaking wet, nauseous, and exhausted. She had offered to let Ginny spend the night, but the girl declined.
"I have to go back to school... remember?" Dazedly, Hermione touched her hand to her forehead, as if steadying herself.
"Bloody hell, Gin... I forgot all about that... is it Saturday or Sunday?" she wondered out loud and Ginny laughed. She had no idea why Hermione acted so drunk... she'd only had one real drink.
"Sunday now, which means I've got all day to sleep this off. I'm coming to the wedding though, Dumbledore's permission. Kiss, kiss," she stated, and disappeared with a pop. Hermione stumbled toward her door, blurry eyed and bed ready.
After the long walk to her room, complete with various bruising from dark tumbles, Hermione fell right into bed, without the slightest thought to her sopping clothes. Sleep came quickly, and Hermione cuddled into her pillow, welcoming it.
"Why do you smell like fish?" asked a voice, mere inches from her ear, startling Hermione beyond reason. Her eyes shot open and, after a shrill screech, she sighed.
"Dammit, Draco, you scared the hell out of me!" she mumbled before turning over and facing away. Draco, who was lying beside her, chuckled.
"Sorry. Are you going to answer me?" She moaned.
"Jumped the pier. Go to sleep." Draco laughed again.
"You did what?" Hermione pulled the pillow over her head.
"Can't we talk tomorrow? Shut up..."
"Technically, it is tomorrow..."
"Draco, please... I know you enjoy annoying me... but I'm tired, I'm nauseous, and I think I'm drunk. Just shut up."
"You don't even want to know why I'm here?" he asked, voice more amused than curious. Hermione gave a muffled scream into her mattress, then propped herself up.
"Fine... get me an aspirin, and I'll talk to you," she compromised, and Draco grinned. He lifted his hips from the bed, fishing in his wand pocket. With a flick, Hermione's headache disappeared. She gasped slightly, then turned to him.
"How did you do that?"
"Experience. Have I never told you how drunken Zabini used to get? Once he figured out how to smuggle in stuff a little stronger than butter beer..."
"Right... well, thanks. That helped, but I'm still not too chipper, so would you please just get on with whatever it was you were saying? Why are you here?"
"I was going to wait up for you... but I fell asleep. You look like you had a wonderful time... jumping off the pier. How drunk are you?" Hermione moaned.
"This is completely unfair. I could have seven butter beers and just feel woozy... but one fire whisky shot, and I can't see properly." Draco chuckled.
"Well that is a bit of a step-up... Fishlips." Hermione made a disgusted sound and fell back into her pillow.
"That was Ginny's idea. And we didn't jump... we borrowed bikes from these really cute French boys and rode them into the railing. We flew off the pier."
"Wow... you must have been smashed." Hermione shook her head.
"That was before the bar... after the milkshakes... and the strippers." She made a face. "I think I'm gonna throw up." Draco laughed.
"Be my guest," he said, but sounded completely contented, folding arms behind his head, a large grin spread across his face. Hermione looked disgusted.
"Does this please you, oh sober one?" Draco laughed.
"I'm imagining you watching strippers. It's amusing." Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "But," he continued. "I hope you know that gives me rights. I wasn't going to... but if you did..."
"Ugh, do whatever you want..." she said, turning toward the door and closing her eyes. "Just try not to impregnate anyone, would you?" Draco laughed.
"What?"
"Forget it. Go to sleep now, or I'll make sure your first son is Asian."
"I think that might be a good idea... the sleep. You're getting delusional."
"If only you knew."
~*~*~*~
"Mum, how does it look?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest not to move her lips. It was now Thursday, and time for the most unpleasant part of the marriage ceremony. The painting.
"Oh, it's marvelous, love," answered Madeline, who was watching the scrawny old man with a French painter's cap apply tiny brush strokes to what must have been a very detailed portrait. Hermione sighed. At least her mother was pleased... that was the reasoning behind most of the things she did these days. Her mother's happiness. She could always go home and complain to Hunter. He'd gotten her and Draco out of a cast iron mold of their intertwined hands... but only with the promise that she would make one of her body, once they conceived their first offspring.
"Can't we just leave him a picture and leave?" Madeline looked disapproving.
"Shh, Mina. You're interrupting art." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to the window, which she had mercifully been positioned in front of. She stood in an elegant pose, wearing her wedding dress, chin pointed upward. Hermione hoped upon hope that it would be over soon... she'd been standing there for well onto three hours, and still... the man painted. With a sigh, she watched the boring landscape. Better than a wall, she assumed, but still not as well as could have hoped.
But then, as she watched, three blondes strode into the picture.
"Mum..." she mumbled, but Madeline didn't understand.
"Don't worry dear, he's nearly half done."
"No, Mum... Draco..." Madeline looked up and Hermione jutted her head toward the window. Her mother turned slightly to see, and was met with the cheery scene of Draco, Hazel, and Lucifer, all taking a morning stroll.
"Oh, dear." Before her mother could make it to the window, however, Lucifer saw them.
~*~
"And then, Mum told the witch to sod off, and she..." Lucifer rambled, but suddenly, he stopped. Walking, talking... probably breathing. "Wow..."
"What?" Draco asked, furrowing his eyebrows and turning toward the element that rendered his brother speechless.
"Gah!" Lucifer intervened, "Don't look, she'd kill me," he stated, covering Draco's eyes.
"What the devil are you on about?" Luckily, it only took a moment for Mrs. Granger to close the great brown drapes of the Malfoy Manor ballroom, and he could let go.
"Hermione," Lucifer explained, and Draco looked confused. He tried his hardest not to turn around.
"What? What about her?" Draco asked, sounding curious, then his eyebrows narrowed. "Was she naked?" Lucifer laughed.
"No, you git. She was in the ballroom," he said, pointing to the now closed curtains, and Draco turned to see. "Fully clothed."
"Then what was so wow about it?"
"You know that thing we have to do on Saturday?" Lucifer started, continuing to walk and lifting Hazel a bit more onto his hip. Draco rolled his eyes and followed.
"No, I've forgotten all about it," he replied sarcastically.
"What do you think Hermione's going to wear?" Lucifer asked curiously, as if he really wondered, but Draco got the message.
"Oh... right. She'd have killed me too."
~*~
Hermione sighed again. She had sacrificed her view of the Malfoy grounds, just so Draco wouldn't see her. It had been close. He'd turned, but her Mum had closed the drapes just in time. Now the room was lit only by the ceiling chandeliers, which were made for late night parties, and didn't do much for the mood.
"Mum," Hermione said thought strained teeth, and her mother was getting a bit annoyed.
"Oh, shush up before I have to body bind you."
"But Mum, I need a..."
"Mobulus Corpus," Madeline said, sounding exasperated, and shifted slightly in her chair. "I warned you love. We're almost done." Hermione, of course, was unable to articulate a response, so she set into thinking.
Draco had almost seen her. That wasn't part of tradition... he wasn't supposed to. Lucifer had definitely seen, but that didn't much matter. Thinking of this, Hermione was reminded of the night before... when Draco returned from his bachelor party, in which he was escorted by Lucifer. Like Ginny, they'd assumed strippers were proper etiquette, but, unlike the girls, they'd gotten themselves piss arse drunk. Draco, in fact, had woken her just before dawn that morning by falling through her window. When she'd come to his aid, he began spouting Shakespearian lyrics, jumbled and combined from random plays.
When she'd informed him that he wasn't making any sense, Draco returned to modern English, and wrote his own warped poetry. Hermione had shoved a sleeping draft into his mouth and levitated him into bed, then flipped off Lucifer, who was rolling around on her lawn, clutching his sides in laughter. Evidently, he could hold his liquor and sane mind a bit better than his little brother. Hermione had left Draco not three hours later, as she was due in the ballroom at eight AM. She'd left a simple note:
Drakey,
If you ever get that bloody hammered again, I'll tell your mother. Feel better, I'm off for more pre-wedding torture.
Love,
~H'mione
and hadn't seen him since, save the view from the window.
~*~
As the minutes ticked, like hours, even Madeline was beginning to grow impatient. The painting, of course, was beautiful... but it was taking so long.
"Are you nearly finished, Mousier?" she asked, and then man grinned. Madeline had long since stopped watching his hand motions, and honestly didn't know if he'd made even a mark since she'd frozen her daughter.
"And," the man cackled, making a tiny mark with the brush. "Merveilleux." He stepped aside to allow Mrs. Granger to view the masterpiece, and she gasped.
"Mousier, it's perfect. Alright, love, come see," Madeline called, beckoning her daughter, but Hermione remained still.
"Madam," interrupted the painter, and Madeline looked up. He made a swishing motion with his hand, and she lifted an eyebrow.
"Oh!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed before back handing a 'finite incantrum' at her daughter. "Hermione, come..." she started, eyes back on the painting, but a loud thump interrupted her. Instinctually, Madeline turned her head to the sound, only to see her daughter collapsed on the floor.
~*~*~*~
Draco literally flew into the outer wall of the Boyce house as he went for the trellis that night. In fact, it was only late afternoon... about four o'clock. Much earlier than usual.
"Krikey," he mumbled to himself, pressing fingers to the now throbbing cut on his forehead. After a moment of self pity, he started up the trellis, like lightning. Before he made it to the top, however, a figure leaned out the window.
"Draco? What are you doing? Are you drunk again?" Hermione called down and he stopped in his tracks.
"What am *I* doing?" he called back, "What are YOU doing? Shouldn't you be... I don't know, sleeping?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.
"At four in the afternoon? Alright," she accused, "How much did you have?"
"I'm not drunk," he promised. "I heard about this morning. What happened?" Hermione sighed.
"Alright, come up here before the whole town hears you...and try not to get too much blood on my flowers. They're white for a reason," she told him, before disappearing back into her room, and Draco climbed to the top. She was waiting with a wet cloth when he got there.
"Hermione," he said, trying to stop her, but she went about dabbing as if there was nothing to discuss.
"So, reasoning behind slamming yourself into my house?"
"Ow..." he mumbled, taking the cloth from her hand. Hermione smiled sadly, ignoring his actions and continuing to inspect the little cut above his eye.
"The photographer is going to kill me. He specifically said not to let anyone in the party get hurt... and I daresay I couldn't have picked someone of more importance."
"Aw, stop fussing and go get back in bed." Hermione quirked an eyebrow.
"How do you know I was in bed?"
"You're wearing pajamas," he stated, and Hermione looked down.
"So what?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe I didn't feel like getting dressed after wearing that dress for so damn long."
"Bed covers upturned," Draco pointed out again, and she turned her nose up.
"Maybe I didn't make my bed this morning." He snorted.
"Yeah, right." Hermione didn't say a word, so he climbed through her window and pulled her toward the bed. After she was at least seated, Draco lost his amused smile. "What happened?" Hermione rolled her eyes and got into bed, pulling the covers over her face. Draco sat down. "Come on, tell me something."
"There's nothing to tell."
"That's not what Mum said." She sighed and folded the covers to her chin.
"Well... Mum hired this scrawny old French guy to paint a portrait of me in my dress... it's sort of tradition... anyway... it was very boring, and I sort of kept telling them so... so Mum got a little annoyed. Then, I tried to ask for a glass of water and she immobilized me... and you wouldn't believe how hot it is in your ballroom with all the window closed and the candles lit... plus, I was wearing that dress and standing near the fireplace... well, somewhere along the line, I passed out... then, when they were done, Mum took off the spell and I just sort of collapsed. Dehydration is all. I'm fine, I don't know what her problem is, making me stay up here... if she knew I walked to the window, I bet she'd bring me a water pitcher." Draco sighed a bit.
"That's it?" Hermione nodded. "Mum made it sound like you'd fallen off a building or something." She laughed.
"Or ran into one. What exactly were you doing outside? If I was sleeping, I doubt I'd be now." He gave a lopsided smile.
"Sorry. I was in a bit of a hurry to get here, I suppose. Forgot to stop walking."
"Aw... were you worried?" Hermione asked, pouting, and Draco shrugged.
"Maybe just a little. Is that why you left so early this morning?" Hermione smiled a bit.
"Yes... Mum specified eight o'clock, but I was still late. Speaking of this morning, however, did you get over that hangover all right?" Draco laughed.
"Oh yeah, I'm good. Was I really as much of an idiot as Lucifer says?"
"More so, I'd imagine," she admitted and Draco sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried, and Draco quirked an eyebrow at her.
"See what?"
"You walked past my window this morning..."
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."
~*~*~*~
A/N: Sorry it took so long... I wrote a chapter of FLYT, and they tend to take longer, as they tend to BE longer. The lost the found and the brokenhearted was thirty pages long. Lol.