Chapter 14 La Festa di San Silvestro

On December 31st, Hermione spent most of the afternoon nervously getting ready. Following Bianca's suggestion, she wore her hair up with clear combs with roses matching her outfit and of course red dainties. To her consternation, the beads of the see-through top only covered the most precious portions of her treasures. As instructed prior, that evening she packed an overnight bag and touched the invitation.

Immediately, she was transported to the grounds of a four story brick Italian villa. Multi-colored lamps, wooden picnic tables, burnt umber cloth pergolas and tents formed a landscape of merriment. Stone sculptures of Roman gods and goddesses lined the large circular path in front of the house along with stone gargoyles everywhere. Scintillating sounds from a talented orchestra echoed all around. In the brisk night air, Hermione tightly wrapped her thin silk shawl around her shoulders. Mouth-watering scents of spicy foods filled the air.

An olive-skinned wizard of thirty-something with black shoulder length hair, pencil thin mustache and an uncanny resemblance to Bianca approached her. "You must be Hermione Granger." She nodded. "I am Vico Gasparo, Bianca and Draco's older brother." His voice possessed an extraordinarily rich timber that delighted her ears.

"Pleased to meet you," she said as he took her arm.

"Likewise," he replied. "I've heard many wonderful things about you. My brother and sister are around here somewhere. In the meantime, please let me show you our home." First he showed her the foyer where he gave her shawl and overnight bag to their house elf. "This is Plix." A house elf wearing a burnt umber toga bowed and took her shawl. Vico's eyebrows rose when he saw her top. "Draco told me you were conservative. He'll be in for a shock." Nervously, Hermione folded her arms trying to cover herself. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, you should be proud." Vico took her arm ending her modesty.

First, Vico escorted her to the parlor where several guests quietly chatted, including Draco amongst several witches. Very tall arched windows enclosed a Tuscany inspired room, containing a low black marbled inn table, burnt umber grand chairs trimmed in gold, green foliage and a baby grand piano in the corner. A nice looking wizard around Vico's age with tightly curled sandy hair approached. "Isn't she a little young for you Vico?"

"Charming is charming no matter the age. Hermione, this is Simon Perryman."

"Pleased to meet you," he replied.

Directly, Draco turned around and stood with his mouth agape and eyes bulging when he saw her, making the outfit entirely worth it. For the occasion, he had his hair combed to the side with a few thin spikes in silver which matched his shirt.

Vico squeezed her hand. "Shall we continue our tour?"

Before she could answer, Draco strode towards them. "Vico, I would like the honor of showing her our home."

"I should have realized you would, since you went on and on about her in your letters." At Vico's admission, a slight flush rose in Draco's cheeks. "She's all yours."

"Hermione, I'm so glad you made it to our party." Gracefully, he bowed and kissed her hand. "You look stunning and …revealing. My sister told me to expect an exquisitely wrapped present." He kissed her cheek and whispered to her. "I don't know how to thank her."

Now Hermione's cheeks burned. "Thank you. I love that hairstyle."

"I'm glad you appreciate my creativity," he remarked.

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Tucking her hand on his arm, he strolled with her to a spacious ballroom where a large crowd of witches and wizards chatted. Bas-relief carvings of Roman gods and goddesses interwoven with fruitful grapevines and olive trees lined the ceiling, while several murals of the countryside covered the walls. Several square archways led to other rooms. Overall, the grand ballroom had a rather inviting feel to it.

"This room is quite impressive. I want to see the rest of your home, but first may I speak to you in private?"

"Of course," Draco replied leading her upstairs. In a study, British and traditional by its décor, lined with several pictures of his biological family as well as his adoptive one, they sat on the couch together, with him on her left. "This is my study. We won't be disturbed."

"The comment I made about you and Bianca was absolutely horrible. Please forgive me. Secondly, at the ball, I shouldn't have listened to the rumors. It's just that I have seen the flock of witches that surround you, which made it too easy to believe. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes," he soberly replied. "You couldn't have known any better about Bianca because we don't advertise the fact that we're related per Papa's wishes, for our safety. And yes, I do have a reputation." Ever so slightly, his shoulders slouched. "There's something I've been wondering about." During their conversation, he kept his face turned so she could see only the unscarred right side while his eyes darted away and he twiddled his fingers. "Are you dating that wizard Ron still?"

"No," she replied. "We were never serious to start and it was just for the dance. Why did you think it was more than that? Were there rumors?"

"No," he replied with an abashed smile.

"After everything we've….I mean…why would you think I'd prefer him over you?"

The wizard sitting next to Hermione who strutted through the halls of Durmstrang confidently and flirted with witches incessantly, looked down, completely vulnerable and ashamed. "I thought you preferred him because he isn't …. scarred."

Leaning forward, she gently touched his chin in a subtle urging for him to turn to her. When he did, she delicately traced his scar. "A mark of distinction on a handsome face," she commented. A timorous grin came to his lips. "I prefer marks of distinction on a handsome face, not to mention innovative hair."

Draco's head tilted up, regaining the aristocratic air she always associated with him. "Good," he whispered. Slowly, his eyes roved from the combs in her hair to her toes. He butterfly kissed the inside of her wrist, making the minute hairs on her forearm stand. As he leaned in, merely inches from her lips, three chimes rang through the villa. "Bugger, dinner is served." Offering her his hand, Draco escorted her to the dining room, tucking her hand in his arm, pulling her closer than before.

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Before Hermione crossed the wide arched doorway of the dining room, scrumptious aromas beset her nostrils and conquered her tummy. Within the dining room, two very long, thick planked wooden tables were squeezed into a room that normally held one, but still left room to maneuver. Wide wooden beams crossed the ceiling and two great fires billowed at both ends, welcoming diners to enjoy a variety of delightful foods. All in all, the room reminded Hermione of a dining room in a medieval castle.

Draco got her chair for her before sitting next to her. First, he poured some sparkling white wine. "This is Prosecco spumante. It is served throughout the year, but is essential on New Year's Eve."

Hermione sipped the crisp wine that tasted of golden delicious apple, pear, white peach and apricot. "This is quite delicious."

Afterwards, several dishes of lentils that had onions and leeks mixed with them made their way around the table. "This is Lenticchie, the main dish. Lentils symbolize money and good fortune for the coming year." As they ate, lingering glances and warm smiles conveyed everything they needed to, replacing many of the words that sometimes got in the way. Prominently, yet another dish made its rounds. It looked like a stuffed pig's leg but without the bone. "This is zampone. Pork symbolizes the richness of life in the coming year. All of the olives used in these recipes are grown here on the estate."

"I've never seen an olive grove. Does the estate press its own olive oil?"

"For a very exclusive brand," Draco replied. "Every year, the Gasparo family hosts one wicked Halloween party followed by a day of olive picking. On that day, during a family festival, we hand pick for a few hours, but the majority are picked by magical means afterwards."

"It sounds like your family knows how to enjoy life." Hesitantly, she tasted it and savored the sage spiced stuffing with provolone cheese. "This has a unique flavor, and I can taste the olives."

Draco beamed with pride. "Wait until you have the dessert."Several more dishes including sliced tomatoes with olive oil and cheese, pastas and cups of lentil soup made their way to their plates. "Hermione, I'm very glad you're here. I wanted to invite you myself but I wasn't sure you would accept." With freshly filled glasses, he privately toasted. "To the new year and a fresh start between us."

"To a fresh start," she conceded. They tapped their classes and sipped. From the conversations around her, Hermione gleaned two truths. First, she realized that they were the only non-Italians aside from Pierre, and something else, which disturbed her. "Draco," she whispered so he leaned in to hear her. "Am I the only Muggle-born here?"

Beneath the table, he squeezed her hand. "You're my guest and that's all that matters."

At the end of the meal, small plates warm to the touch with halved red pears covered with a white sauce were passed around. "This is red-wine-poached pears drizzled with zabaglione, an Italian custard." The entire time Draco filled her glass with wine continually. Once dessert came around, Draco fed her a small spoonful; Hermione savored the pears and the sweet sauce with a hint of liquor. Even more, she relished the comfort of his arm draped casually around her shoulders.

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After they finished dinner, Bianca took her arm. "Draco, you can't monopolize her. This way Hermione, so us witches can talk and freshen up." After they freshened up, Bianca gave her the once over. "That dress is perfect on you, and my brother is completely in awe. Have you told him about your concerns?"

"No," Hermione answered. How can I tell him that I don't want to move as fast as he does, and that I have a V-card? He'll lose interest or give me an ultimatum.

"Don't be afraid to talk him. For you, he'll show more compassion than for anyone, just like he does with his family. Now, let me show you my room so we can pass the time." Bianca led her to a cream white bedroom trimmed in gold, featuring a king size bed with a tri curved headboard with imperial carvings.

"This is quite luxurious, but shouldn't we be getting downstairs?"

"Draco is very spoilt like me. Waiting will wet his appetite just as it will Pierre's."

"Pierre is very different." Hermione wondered if Bianca had begun to trust her as a friend. "Do you love him?"

"Pierre is different. While he is not the love of my life, he is more than a friend. We care for each other deeply, but both of us feel no more than that." Bianca looked down almost embarrassed. "Pierre is very charming, but lonely. However, he fears commitment." Bianca led her to another bedroom with dark wood furnishings and a canopy bed. "Promise you won't tell anyone this."

"I promise." Hermione sat next to Bianca.

"We both fill a need for the other, but do so with complete honesty. He wants someone to show the world to and end his loneliness for a little while, without complications. Conversely, I didn't want my first time to be five minutes in the back of a carriage followed by snickering and locker room talk." Bianca stared into the distance.

"It sounds like you and Pierre love each other as friends which makes it OK. Witches with grace and poise definitely want more than five minutes in the back of a carriage." Hermione gently elbowed Bianca. "We want the romance and a charismatic wizard who will treat us like a princess. Unfortunately, many people would judge that harshly out of ignorance, which is why friends don't tell."

"You're right; they keep each other's confidences." Bianca hugged her. "By the way, this is your room for tonight. There is a small bathroom through there." They chatted a bit before rejoining the party, where Draco seemed anxious. "Talk to him."

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After he wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, Draco took her arm and led her outside. "I want to show you the olive grove." Outdoors, they walked amongst symmetrical rows of branched olive trees lit with lanterns.

"Draco, I'm different than those witches who chase you around. Why are you interested in me?"

"Because you're smarter than the rest of those witches put together. You're not interested in my fortune. You match me in so many ways, and you're adorable." He hugged her shoulders a little tighter, and turned towards her. ''Most of all, you possess something I can't explain."

In the shadows, Hermione saw several couples on the ground. Oh my God! That's why he brought me out here! "Draco you said I was pristine and you're right. I'm not ready for this! I'm sorry, but I can't!" Unable to deal with her surroundings, she bolted.

Within moments, he caught up to her, lightly grabbing her wrist. "Hermione, that's not the reason I brought you out there. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"Draco, I've seen the way those witches throw themselves at you. Are you trying to tell me that you haven't?"

"No, I won't lie to you. For many different reasons, opportunities have presented themselves, and like any red-blooded wizard would, I indulged. That's not the reason I want to date you."

Is that an insult?

"Wait; that came out wrong. I want to be with you, and I am interested in you that way, but I would never pressure you at all. You have my word. I'm sorry I've been coming on so strongly. That's just the way I am." Gently, he clasped her hands and looked her straight in the eye. "I care about you."

"I desire to get to know you better, but gradually, at your pace." After she calmed, he removed an orange rose from his breast pocket and gave it to her. "Look, this is not the night for dramatics, but for enjoyment and getting to know each other." Smiling, he touched his forehead to hers. "The first thing I would like to know is do you like to dance?"

"Very much," she replied. In private, he put his arm around her until they came closer to the music and the crowd. Then he put her hand on his arm. "Why are you so formal with me in public?"

"Malfoys have a 'dignity in public' decree." Quizzically, she looked at his hair. "My hair is avant-garde, but I am still dignified."

"That's very true," she said.

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Unlike the Yule dance, Draco danced her feet off between lively waltzes and slow dances. I love having a boyfriend who dances. Wait a sec, is he my boyfriend now?

Several flashes nearly blinded them, as photographers snapped pictures for a few minutes before Leon had them escorted out. Draco noticed her mild trepidation. "These photos will end up in the society pages of the local paper; one of the reasons I'm so dignified in public. Do you mind if I take you somewhere private?"

When the music stopped, Leon announced to the party, "Fifteen minutes until midnight."

"I would like that."

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Taking her hand, Draco escorted her to a private gazebo. Afterwards, a loud cheer and clock rang throughout. With one arm around her waist, Draco pulled her close and caressed her lips with his; tasting, tantalizing. As Hermione pressed against him, she tingled with warm sensations. All that she dreamed of - that spark which made her heart race; that kiss which made her lips tingle and curled her toes, became reality.

"Felice Anno Nuovo, Hermione," he whispered.

"Happy New Year, Draco." What a way to begin the New Year!