Knight In Shining Armour
Hermione stumbled along the pavement with her head full of racing thoughts. She couldn't believe that Ron could ever be so callous and parade his new girlfriend in front of her like that, and she couldn't help but wonder whether Kat was the woman Ron had cheated on her with.
Swaying drunkenly, she tripped on a wobbly kerbstone and felt a steadying hand help her regain her balance. She smiled gratefully up at Draco and tightened her grip on his arm.
Who'd have thought, she puzzled to herself, that Ron could hurt me so much, and that Draco Malfoy would prove to be my rescuer… twice!
Allowing herself to be led along the pavement and then into a cobbled side street, Hermione glanced furtively out of the corner of her eyes at the man walking next to her.
Draco had been wearing a dark charcoal-grey dressrobe for the meal, but once he had gone through to the party room he had removed it and sent it back to his cottage with one of the house-elves serving at the function. Now he was once again wearing a deep Slytherin green silk shirt, which contrasted brilliantly against his pale skin; it clung to his shoulders emphasising the broadness of them, and the top two buttons had been left undone to give a small glimpse of the smooth chiselled chest beneath. The shirt was teamed with a pair of suit trousers the same shade of grey as his robes had been. His platinum hair was hanging loosely onto his porcelain forehead and every now and then he would shake a stray strand away from his eyes, which shone brightly like two silver full moons from the pale landscape of his handsome face.
Paying little heed to what her unsteady feet were doing, Hermione caught the heel of her shoe between two cobbles and would have fallen into an embarrassed heap on the street if it hadn't been for the quick reflexes of her companion.
Quick as a flash two strong arms wrapped themselves around her slender waist before she made contact with the grey cobbled floor and hoisted her back onto her feet. Draco did not release his hold as Hermione continued to sway unsteadily.
Hermione suddenly became aware of the close proximity of him, as the soft silken sleeves of Draco's shirt brushed against her arms causing a shiver to run down her spine. They stood frozen for a second, Hermione's heart thumping loudly against her ribcage, before Draco slowly pulled back. He slid one arm around her waist to support her as she continued to sway and stumble, and led her on towards a small bistro at the other end of the street.
Blushing deeply from both the humiliation of falling and her closeness to the handsome wizard, Hermione stared straight ahead trying to concentrate on her feet and not focus on the mixture of emotions welling up inside of her.
They entered the quaint little bistro and were shown to a small table near the back of the room. Here and there couples and small groups of friends sat at tables, enjoying late suppers at round candlelit tables draped in cream and deep burgundy.
Too engrossed in her thoughts Hermione was oblivious to her surroundings and only vaguely aware of the waiter pulling out a chair for her. She sat and forced a small smile for the benefit of the waiter, who placed a menu encased in dark red leather before her.
Hermione stared at the menu for a moment before looking up at Draco with a small frown.
He smiled at her before perusing his own menu. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I always get peckish at this time of night."
Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see how late it had become. The Ministry meal had been hours ago. She gave Draco a weak smile before looking over her menu.
The waiter reappeared soon after, poured them both goblets of ice cold water and took their orders. They both chose club sandwiches; Draco ordered his with prime steak whereas Hermione opted for char-grilled chicken.
Hermione sipped at her water, her mind still buzzing and her eyes prickling with unshed tears. She placed her goblet back on the table with a shaking hand and looked up to see Draco studying her closely.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Smiling as best she could, Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice to not betray her inner turmoil. Just then the waiter appeared once more and placed two white plates onto the table, bearing their club sandwiches.
Hermione removed the small wooden skewer that held her sandwich together and placed it on the gold rim of her white plate. Then picking up her shiny gold fork, she picked absentmindedly at her side salad. After swallowing a mouthful of crunchy green lettuce, she looked up to Draco.
"Do you think that was her?"
Draco blinked at her with a small frown creasing his forehead. "Who?" he asked puzzled.
"Kat," she replied. "The blonde," she added seeing Draco's still confused face. "Do you think that was her?" She spat the last word with such venom that she even surprised herself.
Draco stared at her, his mouth slightly open but he had no answer for her. A lone tear escaped and slid silently down Hermione's cheek before she swiped it away angrily. I will not cry over Ronald Weasley again, she thought savagely to herself.
Hermione gulped back a sob and felt Draco's warm hand rest gently on top of her own. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, silently letting her know that he was there for her. She smiled gratefully at him, and then proceeded to devour her sandwich hungrily.
Draco had been watching Hermione closely. It pained him to see her looking so despondent. He could see her eyes shining in the candlelight, aware of the tears lurking there. As she lowered her goblet back onto the table he couldn't help but notice how her hand trembled.
She looked up at him, as though suddenly reminded that he was sitting across from her. She looked so mixed up and confused that Draco's stomach twisted and knotted.
"Are you ok?" he asked her, knowing it was a rather silly question, but unsure what else to say.
Just as the waiter was approaching their table with their order, Hermione smiled at him; at least Draco was sure that it was supposed to be a smile although it looked more like a grimace to him. She nodded in response to his question before turning her focus onto her food.
Draco continued to watch her as she played with her salad, her face showing the battle of emotions within. Draco took a bite of his own sandwich and swallowed just as Hermione turned to him.
"Do you think that was her?" she asked.
Draco frowned slightly; unsure as to whom Hermione was referring to. Her expression held a deadly calm. "Who?"
"Kat," Hermione replied, her voice laced with disdain at the name. Draco was still clueless as to whom Hermione was talking about, but she elaborated. "The blonde."
Realisation swept over Draco and he recalled the girl that was draped all over the Weasel back at the Ministry.
"Do you think that was her?" Hermione repeated, shocking Draco with the acidity of her tone.
Deep down his instinct told him that yes, Kat probably was the one that Ron had had the affair with but he knew he could never tell Hermione that so he remained silent. But she seemed to understand his lack of answer as a single tear streaked down across her flawless skin. Draco's hand twitched involuntarily as he longed to brush that traitorous tear away.
Hermione swept it away with force and Draco placed his hand tentatively onto her small hand. He savoured the feeling of her soft skin beneath his hand briefly before gently squeezing her hand hoping to convey through it that he would be there for her.
Draco felt his insides squirm as she smiled genuinely at him, looking thoroughly relieved to be rid of the nagging thoughts about Kat. He removed his hand reluctantly and continued with his meal, glad to see that Hermione was doing the same.
The rest of the light meal passed with a comfortable silence. Once they had both finished, Draco requested the bill and, refusing to let Hermione pay her share, paid for it and left a rather generous tip. They exited the bistro together and paused on the cobbled street.
Draco turned to Hermione with a grin. "Are you going to be able to cope with the cobbles this time?" he asked, extending his arm to her.
Hermione laughed, showering Draco with warmth as her melodious laugh echoed around inside his head. "Yes," she giggled, linking her arm around his and gently grasped his forearm. "I feel a lot more stable now, thank you. Although, we never did have that coffee, did we?"
Draco led her along the street once more. "Well, I was thinking," he said, glancing at her from the corner of his silver eyes. "We could always head back to the cottage for coffee. I have this delicious Costa Rican blend imported in…"
Laughing lightly, Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course you do!" She paused and turned to look at him, biting her bottom lip gently in contemplation.
Draco was once again taken aback at how beautiful the young witch had become. "So," he asked tentatively. "Is that a yes to the invitation?"
After a moments hesitation, Hermione responded with a slow nod. "Sure, why not? Besides you owe me a tour."
Unable to keep the smile from his face, Draco rested the hand of his free arm lightly over her hand that was still rested on his forearm. "I sure do." He led her into a small alley beside a small Indian takeaway. With one final glance around to be sure no one was around, he Apparated them both away.
Hermione hesitated for a moment. Would it really be wise to enter Draco's cottage and be alone with him? And what would Ron think if he were to find out?
My life, she told herself sternly, no longer revolves around that man!
Slowly Hermione nodded. "Sure," she said, smiling coyly up at him, "Why not?" Besides you owe me a tour."
The grin that spread across Draco's pale face stole Hermione's breath away. Butterflies erupted into life in her stomach as he tenderly placed his large hand over hers, which was still gently grasping Draco's forearm.
"I sure do," he replied playfully as he led her into a small alley that smelled strongly of curry and spices. Pausing next to a large blue bin, Draco glanced around and tightened his grip on Hermione's hand. She felt him turn them both in a small circle and then experienced the familiar feeling of her body being compressed in Side-Along Apparition.
They reappeared a second later standing before Draco's pea green garden gate. He held tightly to Hermione, but after having something to eat, and finally speaking her nagging thoughts aloud, she was feeling a lot more stable and easily maintained her balance on landing.
Slowly Hermione withdrew her hand from Draco's arm and stepped through the gate that he held open for her. She allowed him to take the lead along the terracotta paved path.
Draco unlocked his front door and stood back to let Hermione enter. Stepping inside, she was immediately greeted by the sight of a small House-elf wearing a toga-style small cream sheet tied at the waist with a green and silver cord. The creature curtsied low as Draco stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.
"Welcome home, sir. Master did not tell Tabby that he be bringing a guest home sir. Should Tabby make coffee, or would sir want Tabby to fetch a bottle from the cellar sir?" the House-elf asked in her squeaky voice.
Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see Draco smile down at his House-elf, and speak to her with a kind voice. "Coffee would be lovely please, Tabby. The Costa Rican blend if you could?"
Tabby beamed at him and curtsied once more. "Of course Master, sir. Tabby is happy to." She turned to Hermione. "Would Miss like Tabby to take Miss's shawl?"
Removing her sheer gold shawl, Hermione handed it to the eager Tabby. "Thank you," she said kindly.
"You is most welcome Miss," said Tabby, positively beaming at her. "And Tabby would like it lots if Miss would please call Tabby 'Tabby'. And Tabby will be sure to look after this for you Miss." Tabby swept into one last curtsy before bobbing off through a door at the end of the hall.
Hermione turned, smiling broadly, towards Draco. "Well, isn't she lovely?"
He nodded. "Tabby is great. Without her I think I would be extremely disorganised." He extended an arm in the direction of the solid oak door adjacent to the bottom of the staircase. "And," he added, escorting Hermione to the door. "You'll be pleased to know that Tabby is paid five Galleons a month (which is the most she would accept), has one weekend a month off to do as she pleases, and I offered to buy her a proper uniform, but she like the toga."
Slightly amused by the look of pride displayed on Draco's handsome face, Hermione grinned. "That's great, Draco. But why did you feel a need to tell me?"
Sweeping open the oak door he ushered her into a spacious lounge that was decorated in warm neutral colours and furnished with a large black leather settee placed in front of a white marble fireplace that boasted a welcoming blaze, two matching armchairs sat at either end of the settee at angles. Surrounding the walls were numerous pieces of antique oak furniture, bookcases stacked with old leather-bound books, a sideboard upon which stood a large urn shaped glass vase in which stood three magnificent sunflowers. And a sturdy rectangular coffee table stood before the sofa, its surface clear apart from a small book sheathed in deep blue bindings, which Draco must be currently reading.
Draco took a seat on the couch and motioned for Hermione to do the same. "Well," he began, leaning back into the comfort of the leather. "I know all about the work you have done at the Ministry for House-elf rights."
Hermione was taken aback at the fact that he seemed to know about her work, and that it seemed to matter enough to him to reassure her of his own House-elf's well-being.
Tabby reappeared bearing a large silver platter, which she set down carefully onto the coffee table. "Would Master be liking anything else from Tabby sir? Or Miss?"
"No thank you, Tabby," said Hermione, suppressing a giggle at the look of glee on the creatures face as Hermione referred to her by name.
Draco leaned forward and picked up a large mug of steaming dark coffee and handed it to Hermione. "You may retire for the night Tabby; I did tell you not to wait up for me to return home."
"Thank you, sir," squeaked Tabby, curtsying once more. "But it is good that Tabby was awake sir, to make coffee for Master and his friend sir."
"Of course, Tabby," replied Draco his voice laced with humour. "And of course Hermione and I are very grateful. Good night."
"Good night Tabby," Hermione said to the delighted House-elf, as she bade them good night and disappeared with a crack.
Hermione watched as Draco shook his head in mirth at his eccentric little servant. He picked up his own coffee and took a small sip, settling back into the cushions of the couch.
Time passed easily between them; surprising Hermione somewhat that she could feel so comfortable with her 'former-enemy'. Conversation flowed freely as they talked about their careers, politics and general chit-chat. The coffee was delicious and she found herself becoming more and more comfortable in front of the roaring fire.
Draco, she noticed, had removed his shoes and untucked his shirt, also undoing the cuffs and rolling back the sleeves over his porcelain forearms. She found she loved the way he would throw his head back against the leather settee when he laughed, and so she tried to make him laugh frequently. It shocked her when she thought back to how he had behaved around her while they were at school together; it was like he was a different person now.
In essence he is a different person, she thought to herself at that point.
Following his lead in the comfort department, Hermione slid off her shoes and pulled her feet up next to her bottom on the settee. Pulling the clips from her hair, she allowed it to cascade in loose ringlets around her face and down her back. She shook her head a little. "That's better," she stated, placing her hair pins onto the coffee table beside her empty mug.
Draco was more than a little shocked at how well he and Hermione got along. They entered into numerous intellectual conversations, debated differences of opinions without arguing, and made each other laugh with ease. Draco enjoyed the sound of her laughter; it was such a warm and welcome sound to his ears. And the way her chocolate brown eyes shone brightly was indescribable.
Watching discreetly from the corner of his eyes, he saw her slide her dainty feet from her gold shoes and rest them on the couch next to her. Then she reached her hands behind her head and when she withdrew them her rich brown hair tumbled around her shoulders in a curtain of sensual curls.
As she shook her head gently and the curls bounced playfully around her pretty face, Draco realised that he was now openly staring at her.
"That's better," she sighed, as she laid her hair pins to rest next to her abandoned empty mug.
"Yes," he muttered before he could stop himself. "It is." He slid closer to her and tenderly brushed a stray curl back from her face, running his fingers over her silky smooth hair.
Hermione turned to him in surprise, but returned his smile shyly, a small blush creeping up her cheeks.
He pulled his hand back and rested his elbow on the back of the couch so that his torso was turned towards her. He tilted his head to one side and studied her for a moment. "You don't take compliments well," he observed.
Hermione lowered her head, flushing a deeper shade of red. Looking up at him through her eyelashes she shook her head.
"But why?" he asked her. "You're beautiful, Hermione." He stroked her hair again, grinning as her neck joined her face as she blushed harder.
"Th-thank you," she muttered quietly through her embarrassment, gently resting her hand on Draco's knee and smiling.
A wave of annoyance swept through Draco as she thanked him for his compliment; she seemed to really appreciate the fact that he had told her that, almost as though no-one ever bothered. That thought irked him greatly; the Weasel really was a moron if he couldn't appreciate what he had. She deserves so much better, he thought.
Returning his attention to the beautiful witch beside him, he smiled at her, vaguely aware of her warm hand on his knee. He watched her face as she appeared to be stealing herself for something.
She lowered her feet to the floor once more and turned her body towards him. Leaving her hand on his knee, she lifted her other hand tentatively, then after a slight hesitation she placed her soft hand against his pale cheek and pulled his face towards hers.
Draco was lost in the sensation of Hermione's soft lips against his. He reacted immediately; enmeshing the hand that had been stroking her hair into her curls at the nape of her neck, and resting his other hand on her slim waist.
He felt her hot velvet tongue run over his bottom lip and he parted his lips for her. Hungrily she pushed her tongue into his mouth and explored it. He couldn't believe that she was being so forward, but he certainly wasn't complaining!
Tilting her head back slowly, Draco deepened their kiss, battling her tongue with his own for dominance. Hermione gently nipped his lower lip with her teeth, setting his senses on fire. He growled deep in his throat and began trailing kisses along her jaw line and down her slender neck, breathing in her sweet scent.
Hermione ran her hand from cupping his cheek into his platinum hair. And Draco was also aware that her other hand had slid from his knee to his thigh although he was unsure when that had happened.
Draco's mind was beginning to cloud with lust and he knew that he was about to lose control of his desire for her. Certainly the stirrings in his loins were increasing rapidly.
He placed one last kiss on her plump full lips, then reluctantly pulled back. He looked down into Hermione's flushed face, as she panted and bore a confused expression.
"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I think we should stop."
Draco felt awful when Hermione looked at him with her chocolate pools full of hurt. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly. "Don't you want me either?"
He felt his stomach lurch at her last question and decided to be honest with her; telling people his innermost feelings was not an easy task for Draco Malfoy and he rarely did it, but for some reason he felt an undeniable urge to make an exception for such an exceptional witch.
"Of course I do," he told her, his voice still husky with lust. "More than I can say."
Draco was glad to see relief flood her features. But with a small frown she asked, "Then why?"
"Because…" Draco began, unsure how to put his feelings into words. "Because I don't want us to rush anything. I'd hate for you to regret it in the morning."
Hermione smiled at him, sending his heart rate soaring. "You're right," she said at last. "Thank you."
Draco smiled at her warmly. Then, knowing he needed a breather, as he didn't know whether he would be able to keep to his own words if he stayed in close proximately to Hermione at that moment, he stood up and collected up their empty coffee mugs and the silver platter and carried them out of the room.
Draco entered the kitchen and placed the tray on top of the counter. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the smooth cool surface of a wall cabinet. Damn, Hermione, he thought, taking several deep breaths to slow his racing pulse.
Once he felt back in control of his urges, Draco returned to his lounge. There on his black leather settee sat Hermione, her elbow resting on the arm and her head propped up on her hand. As he made his way to the front of the couch, he noticed that her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even.
Grinning slightly, Draco leaned over her and softly called her name. After getting no response, he tried to gently shake her awake. Again there was no response.
Sighing, and rolling his eyes with a smile, Draco scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the room.
A/N: Massive thank you's again to all the lovely people who have reviewed or added this to their Favourite/Alert lists, seriously I never knew I could get soooo excited over receiving email notifications lol!!
Please review!!