Chapter Four
Disclaimer: I wish I could make up a funny disclaimer, but I'm just no good. I'm afraid the best thing I can come up with is: Don't own it!
(.( "Only you would be afraid to admit that you made a mistake, and that you had to be saved by a Slytherin." Draco said. "So what, you two just fell in love?"
"Well, he took care of me for a few days and yeah—I guess you could say that," Hermione smiled romantically.
"So tell me this," Draco asked carefully, "If had not been Blaise, and let's say, hypothetically, maybe me, would we be getting married now?"
"It's possible."
"Damn, I wish I had been as nice as him," he smirked. ).)
"Hermione," Blaise began apologetically, stepping between Hermione and Malfoy, "I just got a call from Sean at the DA and something really big just came up."
Hermione's face wrinkled in concern.
"You're leaving?" She wondered aloud, the pain evident in her tone. Blaise cringed and shrugged.
"I have to go, Darling. But it's only for a little bit. You'll be fine on your own."
Hermione sighed, and looked at her feet. She knew from experience that she couldn't change Blaise's mind when it came to work, so when she looked back at his pleading face, she smiled sweetly, and nodded her head encouragingly.
"Sure darling," she said, kissing him lightly on his cheek, "I'll guess I'll see you tonight then?"
"More like tomorrow morning," Blaise admitted, taking her hand in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, though all Hermione got from it was frustration. "I promise you though, when we're finally, really together, this will all change, you know that right?"
"I hope so," Hermione muttered, wondering how many times she had heard this—wondering how many times Blaise had left her in favor of work.
"I see you later then, bye 'Mione," Blaise whispered, quickly pecking her on the forehead. Hermione looked up to smile but he already had his back to her and was hurrying toward the door.
And that was the last she saw of him all day.
After her untimely desertion, Hermione found she had lost interest in the breakfast room, so instead of sitting on her own in the middle of the huge dining room, she decided she would rather go back up to her bedroom and have a private breakfast, away from all the happy people surrounding her.
It's just so hard, Hermione thought to herself, gathering her things in preparation for her return to her room. She really did hope Blaise would quit putting his work in front of her. It wasn't because she was selfish and wanted all of his attention; she just missed him so much when he was gone.
And he was always gone.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to my room," Hermione said curtly, continuing at her brisk pace. Without even turning around, she knew that it was Draco just by the silky tones of his voice. For seven of her most formative years, that voice had constantly trailed behind her, taunting her, and she had learned how to avoid it. Now was no different—the voice, she found, still set off alarms in her head, but it also produced an inkling of curiosity, as if her head was trying to figure out if it had been missing anything the past several years of their acquaintance.
"Good idea, we'll have breakfast in bed," Draco said brightly, quickening his pace to keep up with Hermione's.
Hermione ignored his comment, trying to control the flurry of emotions that were flying through her head. Did she want to talk to Draco? Did she want to pursue a friendship with the boy who had tormented her for so long? It would be helpful, what with him being Blaise's best friend and all. After the marriage she would surely be seeing him around. But then again, Blaise and Draco hadn't seen much of each other in the past few years, and Hermione couldn't quite tell how their reception had been. To her it had seemed almost cold and competitive, but maybe that was how all Slytherins acted around each other.
Thoughts of Blaise though only worked to reaffirm her loneliness, and Hermione found that she was jabbing at the elevator button roughly in an attempt to hold back the tears that had formed behind her eyes. She was thankful when the doors opened with haste, signaled by their characteristic chime. She walked in, and then turned around to look at Draco who hadn't moved, though he was still only a few feet away from her.
"I'm so sick of this," Hermione murmured, wondering if she was talking about Draco's behavior or Blaise's. She couldn't quite tell and she knew that Draco couldn't either.
And then the doors closed.
Once back in her room, Hermione stripped off her clothes and sprang into a cold shower. She needed some time to think and pull herself together. She didn't want Draco thinking she was weak and relied on Blaise completely, and her show earlier had clearly not done anything to help her case.
How could you have been so weak, Hermione asked herself as currents of icy water washed over her body, you're so careful and guarded and then you start crying just because Blaise is leaving for one stupid night!
Still cursing this display of infancy, Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. In the daylight, the hotel room looked a lot different and Hermione was surprised to find that she was struck by its beauty. She had never been in such a nice hotel and was oddly pleased to know that one of her school mates had designed and created the whole thing.
Walking out to the tiny portico, Hermione noticed a pool set apart from the others. Due in large part to her obsessive research, Hermione figured it had to be the hidden pool, reserved for VIP guests only. The pool was large and ornamented with deck-chairs, a small bar, and a restaurant that sat in the middle of the huge, turquoise pool. And suddenly, Hermione felt better.
I'll spend the day there, she decided, slipping into her swimsuit and pulling a thin, summer dress over it. I'll just relax and read and not think about Blaise at all, except maybe to plan some of the wedding. It was the perfect solution, and sounded much better than eating alone in her room.
So it was with a new sense of vigor that Hermione gathered some books and work into a large, beach bag and walked out toward the pool.
She would have breakfast outside.
Moments later, with her bag in one hand, and her cell phone switched off in her room, Hermione walked through the magnificent lobby, making her way toward the pool. Huge, round sunglasses hid her eyes, and emboldened by this sense of anonymity, Hermione was surprised to find herself glancing around, not really sure who she was looking for.
But she didn't need to know. Because he found her.
"Ah," Draco said, falling in to step with her, "I see you're making your way to my pool."
"I am," Hermione said, finding his smirk contagious and smiling back at him.
"And of course, with a book," Draco noted, plucking it easily from her bag. "The Historian? Sounds interesting, but I can think of a lot more interesting things we could be doing, other than reading."
Before Hermione could dispute this, the book had vanished with a flick of his wand. For a minute, Hermione stood, staring open-mouthed at him for his audacity. She would never have thought to produce her wand in front of so many Muggles and had labored over whether to even bring it in the first place. In the end, she had decided to take it along, but it was still tucked into one pocket of her suitcase.
"Where's Blaise?" Draco wondered off-handedly, causally glancing around behind Hermione as if expecting Blaise to materialize behind them at any second.
"Meeting," she replied and though she tried to remain impassive but Draco noted the sudden stiffness in her stance and speech.
"And why on earth would he possibly want to spend the entire day in a stuffy office, when he could be out here, admiring you in the expensive bikini which I'm going to buy you, because I know you've only brought a swimming costume," Draco smirked.
"So?" Hermione asked almost defensively. What was he trying to get at? Draco laughed out loud.
"Hermione my dear, those who don't have a figure should not be wearing swim-wear, and those who do, should be wearing a bikini," Draco said simply. "Now come on, we're going shopping."
"I hate shopping!" Hermione groaned instinctively, "And besides, I don't want to go into the city!"
"We don't need to go to the city; there are plenty of shops in here." At Hermione's skeptical look, Draco took her arm. "Follow me."
He dragged her down a set of steps eagerly, passing people whose arms were laden with bags full of clothes.
Finally at the bottom of the stairs, they appeared to be in some large hallway. The sides had shops built into them, and it was as if they were in a mall instead of a hotel.
"This place is like Hogwarts," Hermione said with a grin.
They continued walking down, occasionally glancing into some shop windows, but Draco had yet to let go of her arm.
But Hermione had not reminded him too.
"I think we need a little privacy," Draco thought aloud.
He walked up to one of the various guards and spoke briefly to him before smiling and looking back at Hermione. The guard nodded and he took out his cell-phone. In seconds, all of the hotel guests had cleared out, and Draco and Hermione had the entire passageway to themselves.
"Now, let's do this in an orderly fashion," Draco mused, "What do we need? Well, a bikini, and I think these tacky sunglasses should go. We'll also get you a new hat; you know those really big ones."
"Hey! These aren't tacky!" Hermione protested, waving her sunglasses at him. He simply raised an eyebrow. Hermione smiled. "Okay—maybe a little…," she admitted.
"And then I think we should you get you some kind of everyday attire, and then maybe some jewelry. We can't have our star guest dressed poorly."
"Jesus, you're worse then most girls I know! And I don't need all that—I brought a whole bunch of clothes!" Hermione argued. Draco laughed.
"You do understand that there's no point in arguing with me, right?"
"I know," Hermione relented. Draco smiled.
"Good. Well let's go."
"How can you have such good taste, and still be straight?" Hermione asked, as Draco picked out yet another beautiful outfit. "Unless you have something you want to tell me?" Hermione prompted teasingly, as Draco rapped impatiently on the dressing room door.
"Don't even push that envelope Granger—now come out, I want to see how it looks."
"You know Draco, this is all a bit too much don't you think?" Hermione asked through the changing room door. Without waiting for Draco's reply, which she knew would be contrary, Hermione stepped out and twirled in front of Draco. It was weird, being so close with him. It was almost as if they had been best friends all their lives and not enemies.
"We'll take it all," Draco said, waving at the cashier to indicate they had finished. Hermione smiled, slightly embarrassed to be carted around like Draco's pet, but equally unable to give up the attention.
"Thank you so much," Hermione said enthusiastically, "I don't know what I would have done today if you weren't here."
"Well, one last stop," Draco said, ignoring her last comment, "the jewelers."
"Oh wow," Hermione breathed as the pair entered the Cartier store. "Draco, this is way too expensive."
"Hermione," Draco reasoned, "I have so much money that's just sitting around not doing anything. I don't have a wife or a family and I stay in my hotels for free. You'd be doing me a favor to let me spend some of my money on you."
Carefully, he moved toward the more secluded area of the shop, dragging Hermione by the arm. This is what it had all been planned toward...
Rings.
See, rings, they're personal. You don't just randomly give a girl a ring. Family heirloom, given by a lover, engagement, marriage—they aren't just presents. They are a commitment. And Draco knew this.
Draco, observing the modest, yet expensive rock placed on Hermione's ring finger, picked up one of the rings with an even larger diamond on it.
He was not really expecting a fist to hit his face.
A/N: First off, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry for not updating sooner!!! I've already written the next 3 chapters - so don't worry - this fic is not lost! Pleeeease review, it makes me happy )
Have a great Easter xx