As always, thanks to my reviewers…and to those just reading :)
Chapter 15 Boyfriends are like Keepers
"You look like hell."
"Piss off."
Not exactly a friendly exchange, but better than these two were used to. Hermione glanced at her watch 6:02. We should be gone by now.
She and Draco sat in the front hall waiting for Professor Sprout to show up. Hermione sat wide awake having drank a large cup of tea, while Draco lay curled up on the ground using his robe for a blanket.
"You smell too," Hermione noted, "like an ashtray."
"And you smell like an old rotting corpse. Now, piss off."
Hermione huffed and looked around for something to amuse herself. She found nothing and resolved to stare off into space.
What would this weekend hold in terms of her interaction with Malfoy? She'd been nervous about seeing him after the way he'd acted last night. Her first instinct had been to give him the silent treatment, but that would make for an extremely long weekend. She decided to set the tone for the both of them by acting as if nothing had changed. Well, something had changed. She'd been a little more forthright with her rudeness than she had in the past. She felt minutely embarrassed, but shrugged it off. It was her privilege after he'd been such an idiot.
So far, her plan seemed to be working. Of the five words the two had shared, none seemed particularly uncomfortable.
"Oh good, you're here," Professor Sprout appeared around a corner. "Are you ready to go?"
Hermione stood and nodded gathering up her overnight bag.
"Mr. Malfoy? Wake up dear," Sprout coaxed the sleeping Slytherin.
"Here, you just have to..." Hermione said as she kicked Malfoy in the shin. "Get up!" she ordered.
Sprout looked appalled
"That's the kind of wake up he's used to at home," she smirked as Draco shot her an irritated glare.
"No, Granger, you're thinking of yourself," he mumbled.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Good come back...prat."
"Children, please!" Sprout intervened. "I hope your aren't planning to behave like this all weekend. Let's try to leave the bickering here, shall we? Remember, you're a team."
Hermione and Draco glanced at each other but remained silent.
"Now let's get going."
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"Here are your keys," Professor Sprout explained as she pointed out the rooms. "Draco you're 712, Hermione – 714, and I am 716. Now go get cleaned up. We only have half an hour until we are supposed to set up our booth."
The trio had taken a portkey to the beautiful Blue Scales Hotel right along Darling Harbour in downtown Sydney. To the outside observer, or muggle-eye, the hotel looked like an abandoned construction project. Malfoy had commented on the structure when they approached, referring to it as "a complete dump." He'd been forced to eat his words when they entered into the decadently posh hotel lobby.
Hermione looked at her watch. 6:30 AM; that meant it was 3:30 PM here. She slid the key into place and entered her room. She was impressed by both its size and elegance. Sighing happily, she threw her bag on one of the chairs and lay down on the large bed. Traveling as a wizard was so much better than traveling as a muggle. If she'd come with her parents, she'd still be on a plane for another eight hours.
After changing into a more sophisticated outfit and washing her face, Hermione emerged from her room. She was surprised to see Draco waiting for her in the hall.
"Where's Sprout?" she asked closing her door securely.
"She's already gone down to the ballroom," Draco replied. Hermione was thrown by his amicable tone and wondered if she hadn't jumped the gun in her assumption that they were going to play their usual parts of indignant Gryffindor muggleborn versus racist Slytherin pureblood.
"It's too bad we don't have adjoining rooms…" Draco stated as the pair headed for the lifts.
Hermione froze. What does that mean? She was not prepared for Malfoy to start this again. Don't you know we're supposed to be pretending last night didn't happen? "Oh? And why's that?" she bit out.
"'Cause then I'd be able to come over tonight and smother you in your sleep." He smiled warmly and bent in an 'after you' pose as the lift doors slid open.
"Very funny. How long did it take you to come up with that?" she asked turning her face to hide the blush that had appeared when she thought he was coming on to her.
He followed her into the confined space, ignoring her remark. "What's this? Are you blushing, Granger?" he asked maneuvering around to get a look at her face.
Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she said sharply.
"You are blushing," he grinned. "What's the matter? Hoping I wanted to come to your room for another reason?"
"No thank you, Malfoy" she snapped. "Although it wouldn't surprise me." Hermione suddenly realized that this conversation was terribly wrong. It seemed more like flirty banter than their usual verbal warfare. She blushed again at the thought that he might think she was enjoying this, or worse yet doing it on purpose. Glancing at her watch she decided that her original course of action may have been a mistake. After all, she didn't really know Malfoy very well and bickering could be a turn on for him. She decided it might not be a bad idea to give the silent treatment a try. Squaring her shoulders, she cleared her throat and marched pointedly out of the lift as soon as the doors opened into the lobby.
The pair followed the signs that read, "World Wand Convention: Alexa Ballroom" and found the giant room filled with chattering wizards, cloth covered tables, and a large stage. To the right of the door was a registration booth in which Draco and Hermione checked in and got their name tags.
The tags themselves were round golden badges strung on a black cord. Hermione examined hers and then slipped it on like a necklace. It read, in three centered lines, "Hermione Granger, Amateur Division, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry". Draco's was identical except it boasted the name "Drago Malfoy".
"Excuse me, but my name is Dra-co not Dra-go," he complained eying the name tag with a look of severe irritation. The elderly witch behind the table only shrugged in response and informed him that she was not in charge of name tag corrections, just registration.
"Well, can you tell me who is in charge of corrections?" he asked in one of his condescending tones.
The woman drew her lips into a tight little line and shook her head. "I'm sorry but Mrs. Pennyfluff left at three o'clock- when registration was supposed to be over; since you are late, there's not much you can do," she informed them.
Grumbling, Draco shoved the tag into his pocket and turned to leave the damnable woman.
"Young man," she called to his retreating back, "you need to wear your tag at all times please. It's how we identify participants."
Draco was sure that she was just doing this to spite him, but he complied nonetheless. "Alright!" he huffed, tearing the tag from his pocket and making a production of draping it over his head. "Happy?" he asked the woman, who nodded curtly in reply.
The duo navigated through the room until they found Sprout fussing over the layout of a sparsely littered table. Their wand sat in the center of the table on a small wooden stand. A parchment hovered directly behind it explaining its characteristics while two more framed parchments stood on either side. Each of these had a paragraph-long description of the wand's creators: Hermione and Draco.
"How do you think that looks?" Sprout asked Malfoy who was attempting to magic his nametag into reading his correct name.
"Great," he answered without even looking up at the table in question.
"Well, I have everything under control here," Professor Sprout told them. "Feel free to check out the competition."
Hermione nodded and turned to wander off to the right, while Draco did the same to the left.
The room was huge and probably boasted fifty tables just like theirs. Hermione walked around in absolute astonishment. She was surprised to see there was this much competition. She inspected the wands displayed at each table as she passed. Sometimes she stopped and read the descriptions and sometimes she watched a demonstration.
After a lap around the room and only one run in with Malfoy (in which he transfigured her name tag into a tarantula while testing out a wand), she found herself back at her table chatting with Professor Sprout.
"The judges will be visiting our table soon," Sprout informed her. "Have you seen Mr. Malfoy? They'll want to talk to both of you, I expect." The older woman looked around impatiently. "I'm just going to see if I can't find him," she decided as she bustled off in the direction of the stage.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Malfoy was probably back up in his room napping.
Soon, a group of spectators approached her table and began examining her wand. They passed it around between them and asked a few questions about its make and special properties. She fielded the questions with ease.
As the first group left and another drew near, Hermione decided she liked the Wand Convention very much.
By the time the third group approached, she was beaming with barely restrained pride.
The group consisted of three boys, all appearing to be about her age. Two were tall with black hair and one was burly with sandy brown hair.
"Hello…eh…Hermione," said the brown haired boy, squinting his eyes as he read her name tag. "What have you got here?"
Smiling, Hermione went into a short explanation of her wand before pausing to give the boys a chance to ask questions.
"Wow, that's really interesting," drawled one of the black haired boys whose name tag read, "Hayward Rennington, visitor".
"Yes, it is," said the other, who Hermione realized must have been Hayward's brother because his tag read, "Judson Rennigton, Amateur Division, Independent Affiliate".
"Thank you," said Hermione, unsure of how to continue. "Erm…do you have a wand in the competition?"
"Yes, our table is over there near the door," the brown haired boy replied pointing in the direction of his table. His name appeared to be "Camden Haights". "But, that's all very boring. What we want to know is…are you staying in the hotel?"
Hermione felt the weight of three sets of eyes watching her for a reply. "Yes, but just for the night. We're heading back to Scotland tomorrow after the award ceremony."
"Well, that's alright. What are you doing tonight?" Camden asked moving around the edge of the table to stand right next to Hermione.
"Erm…" she stuttered again, "I don't know…" These boys seemed like they were interested in a little more than just some friendly company.
"We're going to the bar next to the lobby. There's a party for convention participants. We could pick you up after dinner if you like. What room are you in?"
Hermione began to feel extremely uncomfortable. The two black haired boys had fallen silent and were currently leering at her with creepy grins. Camden, the apparent ringleader, was standing far too close for comfort and doing his best to molest her with his eyes. "N-no thank you," she said concentrating on keeping her voice level. She didn't have much experience turning down boys since she couldn't remember the last time she'd been asked out at all. "I don't think my professor would…"
"Oh, come on. Don't worry about that. What are you going to do? Sit in your room all night alone? A beautiful girl like you?"
Hermione blushed. She wasn't flattered in the least by the persistent efforts of her admirers, but she wasn't used to being called beautiful either. "I'm not sure what I'll be doing, and thank you for the invitation, but I think I will wait to make a decision. Perhaps I'll meet you there," she said attempting to placate the trio enough to leave her alone.
"What's the matter? You have a boyfriend or something?" Hayward asked accusingly.
Hermione's heart tightened in her chest at his tone. She could feel the blood rush from her face. "Actually, yes I do…he's…"
"Oh that doesn't matter," Camden interrupted turning around to shoot a look at Hayward. "Boyfriends are like keepers...even when they're there, you can still score." He moved like he was going to grab her hand as his cronies broke into boorish laughter.
Hermione pulled a face of disgust and tore her hand off the table where it had been resting. She felt trapped and embarrassed and wished that the boys would just leave her alone. Where is Professor Sprout when you need her? She panicked trying to look past the tall boys for any sign of her.
Suddenly, she was pulled backwards sharply and a large body was positioned in between her and the trio. "What's going on here?" Draco asked staring pointedly at the three glowering strangers.
"Eh…nothing," Hermione said to his back as she peered around his shoulder. She couldn't remember ever being glad to see him before, but now she was grateful for his presence and she leaned closer him unconsciously. "These three were just about to…"
"Is this him?" Camden asked keeping his eyes glued on Draco. "Your boyfriend?"
Before she could answer, Draco stepped toward the boy and narrowed his eyes into a cold stare that only a Malfoy could master. "And what's it to you?" he asked now face to face with the shorter but sturdier Camden.
For a few tense moments the two males stared at one another in some sort of primitive battle of wills. A thick blanket of tension settled over the small space around them. It looked like they were going to duel right there, and Hermione sincerely hoped they wouldn't. The last thing she wanted was a show of machismo for her honor which would undoubtedly end in both embarrassment and expulsion from the convention.
She tugged minutely on the robe sleeve that fell loosely by Draco's side. "Malfoy…just…"
But she didn't need to continue. The tension was broken as Camden curled his mouth up into an ugly sneer and glanced from Hermione back to Malfoy. "Don't worry there, Drag-o," he chuckled as he read Draco's name, "We were just leaving." And with that the three turned around and stalked off.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she watched them retreat. What bastards, she thought angrily.
"You alright?" Draco asked turning around to look her over.
"Yeah, I'm good," Hermione answered trying her best to look composed instead of shaken.
He nodded and waited until she released the bit of sleeve she'd still been holding.
The pair stood in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds until Draco pulled his nametag off over his head and chucked it on the table. "Well, that's it…I'm not wearing this sodding name tag anymore."
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"Granger! Open the door!"
"Just hold on! I'm not ready."
"For what? What are you doing in there?"
Draco could hear the sound of hurried footsteps and ruffling sheets.
"I'm just…getting…dressed!"
Her voice grew louder as she approached the door. He saw the knob turn and the door was pulled open to reveal an out of breath Hermione Granger.
"What's your problem?" she asked blocking the doorway so Malfoy couldn't get in. She hadn't expected him. She'd been enjoying some recreational reading in a bubble bath when he'd come calling.
"Nothing except, I'm standing out in the hall, where anyone can see, with this!" he replied holding up the bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped, surprised that Malfoy would choose to visit her at all, let alone bring over alcohol. "You shouldn't have that. What if Sprout finds out?" she asked moving aside at Draco's impatient glare.
"She won't," he promised setting the bottle down on the bedside table and falling down into the soft chair next to it. "Now Granger, lets get pissed."
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It'd taken some convincing to get Hermione to take that first swig of whiskey. She told him that she didn't drink and he said it didn't matter. She said she hated whiskey and he poured them both a glass. She said he was a bad influence and he said she was scared.
Needless to say, two hours later Hermione and Draco had finished the bottle and were rolling on the floor laughing at the confession she'd just made.
"Really?" he asked wiping a tear from his eye. "You dreamt about spanking Snape with a spoon?" and the two started laughing again.
"Yes well, we were in his lab…I had to improvise," she replied pushing up off the floor and reaching for the whisky bottle. "Looks like it's all gone," she told him turning it upside as proof.
"Let's go down to that bar those three arseholes told you about," Draco suggested, pulling himself off the ground and helping her up as well. "I'm sure there's plenty more down there."
"I don't know if I should go anywhere with you," she told him trying to keep a straight face. The alcohol seemed to make her usual hatred for this boy seem inconsequential. "You're not to be trusted."
"And getting drunk with me alone in your room is much better?" he countered giving her a skeptical look.
"You're absolutely right," Hermione said. "At least at the bar there'll be witnesses." She turned toward her suitcase and began rummaging through it, "just let me change first. I wasn't planning on going out tonight."
"What's wrong with what you've got on?" Draco asked eying the tank top and sweat pants.
"These are pajamas, Malfoy," she laughed as she discovered some jeans. "They're sloppy," she told him.
"They're sexy," he countered watching as she rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom to change.
Once safely inside the bathroom, Hermione dropped her clothes to the ground and leaned against the door. They're sexy? She could feel the color heating up her face and she took three deep breaths before standing upright and heading over to the sink.
She stared at her reflection and wondered what was going on. She was actually having a good time with Malfoy. Something she would never have expected to happen. She wondered why he was being so cool. He hadn't picked a fight with her once (even when she made fun of his perfectly constructed outfit).
Perhaps he'd wanted to have some fun and didn't have any other options. No, he would have just gone to the bar without her and chatted up some girls with low self esteem.
Maybe he was still trying to "get her out of his head".
She breathed out slowly. That was probably it. He'd been different for a while now. Not just today or last night. He wanted something from her. Maybe it was just a kiss, or maybe it was some sort of rebellion against his racist father. All she knew was that at this moment, she didn't much care. The whisky had created a warm humming in her head and she was having a good time. She wasn't going to stop just because her overactive mind was overreacting.
"How long does it take to change your bloody clothes?" Draco yelled through I door, "I'm sobering up out here."
Hermione smirked and quickly dressed before opening the door and fixing Draco with a sly smile. "Let's go."
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"Last call," the barman shouted, resorting to a sonorous charm to be heard over the loud music and talking. "Last call for alcohol."
Draco was in the middle of a heated discussion with an Italian fellow about which quidditch team was going to the World Cup this year, while Hermione danced on the dance floor with a coed group from the convention.
Hearing the last call, Draco excused himself from his debating partner and went up to the bar to get another drink.
"Granger!" he called motioning for her to join him at a table. "Come over here and have one last drink."
She complied and danced all the way across the room until she stood right next to Draco's table. "What are these?" she asked eying the two half pints of dark lager and two shot glasses.
"Irish car bombs," Draco replied. "They're a muggle drink. You drop the shot into the beer and then chug the whole thing."
Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I don't know if I can chug the whole thing. Can't I just drink it slow?"
"No!" he laughed handing her a shot and a beer. "If you wait too long it will curdle," he informed her. "Now quit being prissy and let's do this already!"
On the count of three both teens dropped their shots into their glasses and lifted them up to drink. Draco finished his in about half a minute, while Hermione was having a harder time.
"Don't stop!" Draco ordered as beer began to drip down the sides of her mouth.
A minute later Hermione was slamming the glass down on the table and cheering loudly for her success.
"Nice job," Malfoy said, tossing an arm around her shoulders. "Now, let's get out of here, their closing up."
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"Malfoy…stop laughing…it's not funny!" Hermione whispered loudly as she dug through her pockets again. "It's not here! What am I going to do?"
Draco leaned against his door and laughed harder. He didn't know why, but Hermione losing her key was absolutely hilarious. "Try…try alohomora," he proposed.
Hermione retrieved her wand from her back pocket and pointed it at the door. "Aloha-alohomora," she stuttered.
Nothing happened.
"Alohomora," she tried again. The door remained locked. "Oh, I can't do it," she whined turning toward Draco, "I'm too drunk!"
Draco burst out laughing even harder. "You should see your face right now," he explained, "You're so pathetic."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Bugger off, Malfoy! I'm locked out."
"Don't worry," he said straightening up and retrieving his own key from his pocket. "You can sleep in my room."
Hermione stopped breathing. Sleep in his room.
Even through her drunken haze, she could tell she had a major decision to make. On the one hand, she'd have a warm bed to sleep in and would be safe from the wrath of Professor Sprout, but on the other hand, she'd be spending the night with Malfoy…in his room.
"Don't look so scandalized," Malfoy drawled, "You're sleeping on the floor." And with that he reached out, captured her hand, and pulled her toward his open door.
Looking back on that night, Hermione realized that what happened next was inevitable.
She was so drunk and clumsy that she tripped over her own feet and was only saved from face planting by Draco's arms catching her around the waist.
"You're okay," he said, lifting her carefully so she could find her footing.
But she couldn't find her footing; she was out of breath and too busy focusing on the fact that her hands had landed perfectly on his chest.
His heart beat sped up under her palms.
"Sorry," she mumbled, staring at her hands. His warm breath dusted her forehead and almost imperceptibly, his arms tightened around her. She jerked her head upwards in surprise.
"'s alright," he said in a low gravely voice, his clear grey eyes seeking out her own.
She wanted to look away, to be the shy girl she'd always been, but he wouldn't let her. His gaze captured her and held her there, unwilling to let go.
This was it. She was going to kiss him and everything would change. She knew it and so did he. He blinked his eyes once, releasing her from his trance, and lowered his head until their lips were mere inches apart.
Hermione moved her head to complete the kiss of which her skin was now prickling in anticipation. Just as her eyes blinked closed, the quiet "ding" of the lift arriving froze her in place. "Malfoy," she whispered, her lips ghosting against his.
She felt him stiffen and pull back a little to look at her once more. "Is this the part where you change your mind and run away?"
Hermione furrowed her brow and glanced quickly over her shoulder. "Erm…no," she said, running a hand through her curly locks and breathing deeply as if trying to gather the courage to say something. "It's just that…well, we're in the hall and…your room's right there…so I thought…"
And Draco immediately understood. He laughed heartily and reached for her once again, dragging her all the way into his room and kicking the door shut behind them.
"Better?" he asked moving his hands to settle on either side of her face.
He pressed his body into hers and rejoiced when he felt her arms circle around his hips. Something about this just felt right. It felt incredible. Just as good as it'd felt in his fantasies.
"Much," she agreed leaning into him.
And then he was kissing her.
His lips were hungry and demanding and Hermione found herself pleasantly surprised by his urgency. He tasted like smoke and smooth liquor. She briefly wondered if she tasted the same. She tried her best to keep up with his rapid pace and was surprised yet again when she found herself pinned up against the door receiving full open-mouthed kisses.
She hadn't remembered moving backwards, and she certainly didn't remember un-tucking his shirt so she could slide her fingers over the hot skin underneath, but there she was.
And it was there against that door, panting into the mouth of her childhood enemy, that Hermione Granger first felt passion.
A rolling wave of heat gushed from inside her chest to deep within her stomach, stopping between her legs and causing her to twitch in craving for something she'd never yet experienced. As if on cue, Draco reached behind her knee and drew her leg up to settle around his waist. He shifted so that his body filled the space where her leg had been, and she gasped in response to the added stimulation.
His kisses stayed focused and Hermione could not concentrate on any rational thought. She gave herself over to her instincts. She curled her fingers when his tongue swept over her bottom lip and lost her breath when one of his palms brushed past her breast.
She couldn't protest when he moved his mouth to her neck and gave long slow kisses under her ear. She laid her arms over his shoulders and relaxed letting the door support most of her weight. Her head rolled back and the only things running through her mind were the warmth of his breath and the softness of his lips.
He stayed in that position, attending to the delicate skin along her throat, while his hands slid down over her body to some lower destination.
It wasn't until Hermione heard the tell-tale jingle of her belt being loosened, that she noticed how far things had gone. Here she was: shirt pushed up, hair disheveled, leg positioned on Malfoy's waist, and his hands slipping into the front of her jeans.
"Wait," she said bringing her fingers to close around his explorative hands.
He stood there for a moment, hands still inside her jeans, breathing deep heavy breaths.
"Granger," he growled pulling his hands up and resting them on her hips, "You're killing me." He leaned closer to her and for a fleeting moment she thought he would kiss her again. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers.
"I'm sor.." she began, but was cut off my a quick breath from Malfoy.
"Don't say you're sorry," he told her pulling away a little and meeting her eyes. "Just…don't be sorry."
She gave him a small smile, but really felt monumentally awkward. She had just experienced one of the most intense snogging sessions of her life and now she was expected to remember proper speech functions? Not likely.
Draco didn't seem to notice her embarrassment. He nodded as if he had come to terms with something and pushed off from her completely. "Well, if you're going to sleep here, you'll need something to wear," he said, striding off toward his suitcase. He produced a white undershirt and some cotton pajama bottoms, "You can wear these," he suggested, thrusting them in her direction.
Hermione looked at the offering with amazed confusion. "Er…okay."
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Draco was in a clothing store. It looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "I don't understand. There is no money left?" he asked the shrewd saleswitch behind the counter.
"That's what I am telling you…you're broke. You're vaults have been cleaned out!"
"But that's impossible!" he argued digging in his pockets for a few galleons, "I'm Draco-fucking-Malfoy. I have more money than anyone!"
"Not anymore," the woman cackled ripping the tie that Draco was purchasing out of his hands.
Draco growled in frustration and slammed his head on the counter.
"Get up, Mr. Malfoy," the woman said. "Can you hear me?" She knocked loudly on the door?
Draco blinked open his eyes. He was not in a store at all but on the floor of a bedroom.
"Mr. Malfoy? Are you awake?" came the voice that was not a bitchy saleswitch, but rather Professor Sprout.
"Fuck!" Draco gasped jumping to his feet and staring at the door.
The knocking came again and Draco's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He turned toward the bed to see a sleeping Hermione Granger begin to stir.
Thinking fast her ran over to her and shook her awake.
"Wha.." she startled, but was cut off by Draco clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Please open the door, Draco," came Sprouts voice again.
Both Hermione and Draco whipped their heads in the voice's direction and froze.
This chapter had so many forms along the way, but I decided on this version. It is totally fluffy but I think it sort of goes back to the original style of this story. Also…if it seems that Draco is terribly OOC in this chapter, just remember that he has been fantasizing about Hermione for a while now and is nearly convinced that he's in love with her.