Author's Note:
cerealobsessed: I think I've been fairly good about updating regularly. I update everyday, sometimes twice a day. I know how you feel, whenever I'm reading a work-in-progress I always get frustrated having to wait for chapters, but please remember I have schoolwork and other mandatory things, as well. I will try to update everyday or every other day, so please bear with me! I'm glad you're still reading.
Moonstar-75: Thank you so much for your review! I know a lot of people hate hearing constructive criticism and get all defensive, but I appreciate your input and will take your advice into consideration. I know my dialogue still needs a lot of work. Sometimes when I'm writing I consciously know I'm writing unrealistic dialogue – that no one really speaks with such detail or correct grammar but my organizational skills really suck. I'm working on putting more detail where detail should be, and less where it's unnecessary. I personally blame my English Honors class. I just finished reading The Red Badge of Courage, and all of Stephen Crane's excruciating detail must be rubbing off on me. And as for the severe lack of interaction between Draco and Hermione, well, I wanted this fic to be slow. I didn't want to get straight into their relationship and suddenly have nothing left to write. This is first and foremost a fic about Hermione and her life, which just happens to include a relationship with Draco Malfoy in the future. Once again, thanks for your review and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters to come!
"I'm definitely not wearing this," said Hermione firmly, already rushing back into the bathroom to change out of the ridiculously revealing dress.
Ginny halted her by putting her arm out in front of the bathroom door, "Don't make me do something I'll regret, Hermione."
Hermione raised her eyebrows at her, as if daring her to continue. "I'm not comfortable with this! Look at this neckline; look at how thin this fabric is! I don't want Orlinda Rawlins's first impression of be to be a sluttish thing."
Ginny giggled, "How did you ever get through Hogwarts being such a bloody prude? Honestly, Hermione, you must be seeing something completely different from me because this dress is not risqué in the least. Trust me."
Hermione examined herself once again in the door length mirror, turning from side to side. In all honestly, she had to admit she looked pretty decent. Her body did, at any rate. Hermione had lost her baby fat since school and had taken to running a few times a week after she realized how ridiculously weak and out of shape she was. She had never liked sports or anything remotely physical, but running made her feel good. In that cliché way, running let her unwind and burn off calories at the same time.
"What's this?" asked Ginny, holding up the gift box that came with the dress robes.
"It was a complimentary gift box from Gladrags. They give it to every first-time customer," explained Hermione.
"Look at all this stuff!" Ginny exclaimed. She help up different perfume samples and spritzed each into the air, taking in the intoxicatingly sweet scent.
"Do you think I should use some of these things?" Hermione asked apprehensively.
"Well, of course!" laughed Ginny, "I can't think of a better occasion for you to try these out. C'mon, I'll help you."
Hermione descended Ginny's staircase, trying to get a feel for the heels she was wearing. Hermione had never worn heels this high before. Her hair was swept back nicely, leaving out stray bangs in the front. Ginny worked her magic and managed to soften Hermione's hair into elegant curls, then swept them back into a delicately messy bun. She preferred not to attack Hermione's face with obnoxiously colored make-up, and instead went for clean and simple approach. Hermione's cheekbones were caked prettily with warm pink blush, simple coral pink lipstick, and light brown glitter on her eyelids which changed color – from pink to brown to pink again.
Harry was sitting on a wooden-backed chair, drinking a butterbeer when Hermione greeted him. There was that awkward pause before Hermione blurted, "I didn't see your penis, Harry."
Harry choked on his drink and Hermione blushed four shades of crimson, surprised at her own bluntness.
"Well, that's, uh… that's good," stuttered Harry. "Awkwardness over?"
"Over," confirmed Hermione, sighing with relief.
"You look very pretty," Harry commented.
"Thank you! I wish you were coming with me," Hermione said.
Harry shook his head, "I've been to enough Ministry galas. They're just out to brainwash you and steal your money. You know less than half of the profit made at these galas goes to the actual charity, and the rest goes to the Ministry's budget, so watch how much you contribute tonight."
"Alright cynic, I'll keep that in mind," grinned Hermione, reaching into the hallway closet for her scarf and overcoat.
Ginny rushed downstairs with a flower in hand, "Here! I've bewitched it so it won't die and it'll stay in your hair. I think it'll go with your dress nicely." Ginny clasped the flower into Hermione's hair and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Damn, I'm good."
Hermione laughed. "Well I guess I'd better Apparate. Don't forget to lock your bedroom door tonight!"
Just as Ginny and Harry started to blush guiltily Hermione Apparated out of the hallway, flew through space and time, and came to in the reception room at the Concord – an established Wizard hotel and party hall. Everything was so beautifully decorated. There were dangling chandeliers, floating blue fairies, glittering lights, enchanted snow flakes, and a live orchestra playing toward the front of the hall. Hermione looked around, amazed and glad that she had come.
Not many people had arrived yet, choosing instead to be fashionably late, so Hermione sat herself at a table near the orchestra and took out a pad and began to take notes. Notes on behavior, clothing, conversation topics, anything so Hermione would know what was expected of her.
"Hermione Granger!" someone called.
Turning, Hermione saw the exact image of Padma Patil, except that this was no doubt her twin sister, Parvati. Parvati was wearing a stylish blue set of dress robes with a low-cut neck and slit going up to her thigh on the side.
"Parvati! How've you been?" Hermione exclaimed, embracing her.
"Good, good! Padma owled me telling me to expect you," said Parvati, "So I've been keeping an eye out for you. You look beautiful!"
Hermione smiled shyly, "It's all Ginny's work, really."
"Care to put in a quote for the Prophet?" asked Parvati, conjuring a matching blue Quick Quotes Quill and notepad out of thin air. It hovered next to her face, the quill waiting expectantly for quotes to jot down.
Hermione sighed dramatically, "Well, alright. Just a quick interview so you can tell your boss you were actually working instead of partying and getting roaring drunk."
Parvati gave her an off-the-record smack on the shoulder and continued in a business-like manner, "Hermione Granger, you've recently applied for the position of Head of the Department of Muggle Relations."
"Yes, I have. I'm looking forward to my interview tomorrow morning with Orlinda Rawlins. She invited me here tonight so we could meet informally."
The quill wrote quickly and scratchily. Parvati went on, "How are you enjoying your first Ministry for Magic gala? Usually invitations are scarce unless you've lots of money to contribute or you work for the Ministry."
Hermione looked around the room, "I think it's a very extravagantly decorated hall. I've never been to the Concord before today, so it's a bit of a surprise. I think it will turn out to be a great night."
Parvati let the quill finish its last thought and then magicked it away, presumably back to her purse in the coatroom. "Thanks, Hermione! So, have you met very many people yet?"
"I haven't, actually. I don't know what Orlinda Rawlins looks like, but I wanted to meet her tonight. Could you point her out to me?"
"Sure," said Padma, craning her neck to look around, "I just saw her with the Minister not ten minutes ago. Oh! There she is! She's talking to Draco Malfoy by the wine fountain. Well, it was terrific seeing you Hermione, but I think I see my boss's wife glaring at me so I've got to run!"
With a quick kiss on the cheek, Parvati was off in search of another person to quote. Hermione heart sank when she saw Draco Malfoy talking to a pretty lady by the wine fountain. She really didn't want to let Malfoy see her in the dress that he'd bought. Deliberately taking her time, Hermione made her way across the hall towards Orlinda Rawlins and Malfoy.
She got herself a glass of wine which tasted almost poisonously sweet and smooth when it went down her throat, and tapped on Orlinda's shoulder. She turned towards Hermione, an unarmed smile on her face. Orlinda was younger than Hermione thought. She couldn't have been more than 35 years old, Hermione thought. Her hair was black and smooth, pulled over her right shoulder, leaving her left shoulder bare and irresistible.
"Hello," Hermione started, "My name is Hermione Granger. I'm not sure if you remember me bu –"
Orlinda cut her off, "Of course! It's good to meet you, Miss Granger! I wasn't sure when to expect you so I've been asking people every few minutes if they knew who you were and if they'd seen you. And might I say you look absolutely lovely tonight. Is that a Muggle dress?"
Orlinda talked quickly and fluidly, giving off a friendly vibe. Hermione glanced nervously at Malfoy, who had a customary smirk and a cold glint in his eye. He was waiting for what she'd say next, and he knew what she was going to say.
Hermione smiled coldly over Orlinda's shoulder at Malfoy and replied, "It is, yes. From a little shop in London. My best friend, Harry Potter, bought it for me."
That wiped the smirk off Malfoy's face. Now his face was set in a mutinous snarl, his teeth bared.
"Oh! I'd forgotten you're friends with dear Harry. He's a doll, isn't he? Yes, he is. Such a shame he couldn't make it tonight, but the no-fun-haver is convinced the Ministry's up to some no-good conspiracy," said Orlinda conversationally, laughing lightly. "And have you met Draco Malfoy? I'll dare say you have; you were in the same year at Hogwarts, I believe."
Orlinda pushed Malfoy forward, nudging him to extend his hand. He did, reluctantly so, and Hermione hesitated slightly before shaking his hand. His grip was strong and for a few seconds both were trying very hard to crush the other's fingers.
"Draco's not very chatty around new people," Orlinda said, pinching Malfoy's cheek teasingly. Malfoy winced. "He's a dear once you get to know him. He contributes the most out of anyone at these charities."
Malfoy said stiffly, "I would hardly call it a charity. The Ministry is so greedy for money they're willing to lie to unassuming patrons to get it."
"Don't be such a cynic, Draco!" admonished Orlinda, "We're all here for a fun night. Free drinks all night! Don't tell me you don't like the occasional drink, I still remember what happened last Christmas."
Malfoy paled, "Orlinda, let's talk about something else."
"What happened last Christmas?" Hermione enquired, genuinely curious. Malfoy glared daggers at her behind Orlinda's back.
Orlinda laughed loudly, "Oh, Draco could never handle his drink. Or maybe he can, but he consumes far too much of it sometimes. Last Christmas at his own party, he drank half of the wine bar and ended up vomiting on the Minister for Magic himself. Didn't forgive him for months afterward. Draco's a very peculiar drunk; you'd think he was mad. He cries and laughs and screams all within seconds of each other. It's a bit like watching a wonderful play."
Draco wrinkled his nose at Orlinda, "You're an awful, awful woman."
Orlinda waved him off and kissed his nose cutely. "Yes, I am, and there's the Minister! Got to run!" Turning to Hermione she said, "Hermione – may I call you Hermione? – come find me later tonight, we'll talk!"
Hermione stared at her feet and Malfoy fixed his tie. Finally Hermione said, "Well, I guess I'll just –"
"You think that was funny, do you?" spat Malfoy, cutting her off. "That little joke about the dress?"
Hermione was appalled, "I was only joking, Malfoy. I know you bought this and I'm grateful, but you must remember the reason you bought this. It's because you're a great klutzy prat and you tore my original dress robes."
"I made up for it by buying you robes three times as expensive, Mudblood," said Draco venomously, "And why are you wearing that dress? This is a Wizarding function."
"Don't call me a mudblood, Malfoy; you know I'm just as good as you are, blood be damned. I'm wearing this dress because Ginny made me. She obviously didn't realize how horribly revealing it was."
Malfoy automatically looked at her body, his eyes stopping right at the neckline and her chest. Hermione crossed her arms over her waist, attempting to cover her chest, but it only made her breasts bulge out more. Malfoy was still starting.
Hermione smacked his shoulder, making his eyes snap up to her face. "What do you think you're looking at, pervert?"
"I'm not a pervert, Granger; I'm just a mortal male with hormones who can't help it if a bloody horrible person like you has an appealing physique."
Hermione was confused, wondering how she should retort. Malfoy had carefully dressed up a compliment with an insult, so she was unsure of which to respond – the compliment or the insult? She opened her mouth and then shut it again. Instead she rolled her eyes and huffed, and stomped away after she got another drink. A strong drink.
She slammed into a tall, muscular man. She heard Malfoy snicker wickedly behind her and she cursed herself for being so uncoordinated. She looked up to apologize to the man and gasped, "Viktor!"
Viktor Krum, 6'4, was standing tall in front of her, apparently unsure of whom she was. He hadn't changed since she last saw him; he still looked surly and somewhat angry.
"Her-me-own!" Viktor exclaimed. Hermione sighed inwardly, irritated that he still couldn't pronounce her god damn name. "I am seeing you after a long time! You look good."
Hermione blushed lightly, "Thank you, Viktor, you're looking well yourself! You're here for the Quidditch shoot, right? Colin Creevey told me."
"Yes, I am," said Viktor slowly, "The Minister has invited our whole team tonight, he is most kind. I am here vith my girlfriend, Ana. I vont you to meet her, please."
Ana was stunning. She was tall, had thick black hair and pale, clear skin with the most beautiful light blue eyes. She had heavy-lidded eyes like Viktor's. Hermione felt a small pang of jealousy that Viktor had moved on already and was with one of the most beautiful girls Hermione had ever seen.
"It's nice to meet you," said Hermione politely, "You're very pretty."
Ana laughed lightly. Hermione's face tightened – even her laugh was delicate and pretty sounding. "You are kind, I thank you."
"Are you here with Draco Malfoy, Herm-own-ninny?" asked Viktor, looking over Hermione's shoulder.
Hermione, startled, looked behind her. Draco Malfoy was standing in close proximity to her, and was previously looking at some women across the hall until he heard Viktor mention his name. He looked confusedly at Hermione, and then at Viktor. "Sorry?"
"You are vith Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor restated.
Draco looked taken aback, "What the he –"
"Yes," said Hermione quietly. Draco stared at her, his mouth hanging from his jaw.
"I am glad you haff moved on, Herm-own-me," said Viktor, smiling awkwardly. "Ve vill keep in touch, I hope."
With that, he and Ana left arm in arm.
Hermione bit her lip, looking at Malfoy. Surprisingly he didn't look so mad. He almost had a happy look about him.
He said, "Self-preservation, I understand. Although maybe I wasn't the best choice, because right now I'm going to saunter over to that beauty in the corner and chat her up, get her drunk, and most likely shag her in the coatroom. Good job, Granger, your half-wit ex-boyfriend will think you're an unattractive prude who can't even keep her "boyfriend's" eyes on her. Later, mudblood."
With that, he did indeed saunter over to a blond in the corner, take her hand and kiss it sweetly. The blond giggled, blushing deeply. Her friend, also a blond, giggled too. Malfoy laid on the charm, making sure the girl's drink was always full. Within 15 minutes the blond and Malfoy were exiting the room, the girl giggling madly and Malfoy staring at her backside ravenously. Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She instinctively locked eyes with Viktor, who had just witnessed the whole spectacle from afar, and he looked back at her pityingly, as if to say, 'Poor Herm-own-ninny, you can't even attract your own boyfriend.'
Hermione grabbed another drink and downed it. Hot tears were prickling the back of her eyes, wanting out. She tried hard to hold them in. She grabbed another drink, and another, and another. Two hours later, she was drunk out of her mind. She had never been so intoxicated in her life. She usually only had one drink and only then on special occasions. She felt light and happy and airy as she walked to the coatroom to get her coat and leave. A nagging voice in the back of her mind was telling her she shouldn't attempt to Apparate when she was so intoxicated, but the bigger part of Hermione's brain was telling her to dance and sing and be happy.
Opening the door to the coat room, Hermione went inside and dropped her jaw. Malfoy, completely naked, was with a brunette girl. Brunette? Hadn't Malfoy gone in with a blond girl?
Hermione felt confused and her head started to spin. Malfoy snarled and yelled something at her but she couldn't understand him. There were bells ringing from somewhere, or maybe it was just coming from her own head. The room was spinning around her and voices incorporated with the colorful mess. She felt soft but firm hands on her shoulders and she saw that the brunette girl was looking at her peculiarly, asking if she was alright. The closeness of the girl's face was the last straw, and Hermione vomited horribly all over the girl. The girl shrieked, pushed Hermione away, and pulling her clothes on quickly, she ran from the room, disgusted.
Hermione fell to the ground and moaned. Her head hurt terribly and she didn't know what was going on. She began wailing, sobbing loudly, thinking of how humiliated she felt. Viktor Krum had a beautiful girlfriend and had also caught Hermione in a stupid lie. She humiliated herself and she was paying the price. She was stupid to have drunk so much.
"Granger?" Malfoy asked tentatively, looking at her as if he were afraid she'd bite him.
Hermione sobbed again, not caring anymore. "I'm so stupid. So, so stupid."
"What are you talking about? You're piss drunk and you're making a fool out of yourself," Malfoy admonished harshly.
Hermione wailed again, "I just wanted him to think I had it all. I wanted him to think I had a boyfriend, but I'm so, so stupid!"
"Granger, calm down."
"No!" Hermione screamed, wrenching at her hair.
"Stop that, you'll ruin your hair," Malfoy said, softer this time.
"So?! So what! I don't care anymore, I just want to cry and take a warm bath and cry some more."
"You're not making sense any more."
"I want a bath! I'm covered in vomit! I want a bath and a good cry."
Malfoy sighed, irritated. He quickly dressed himself and was headed towards the door, ready to leave the messed up Granger by herself when she whispered, "I hate my life. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."
Malfoy stopped by the doorway and looked back at her. She really was a mess. Mascara was running down her cheeks, she had vomit all over her dress, her face was tear-stained and red, and her eyes were large and puffy. Despite her appearance, Malfoy's first thought was not 'What an ugly hag' – it was 'What should I do for her?'
Knowing he'd regret it later, Malfoy wiped her face with the handkerchief in his jacket pocket and lifted her into his arms, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. Hermione cradled against like a baby, saying "I just want a warm bath." She rested her head against his shoulder, falling asleep. With another heavy sigh, Malfoy Apparated them back to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.
He arrived in his master bedroom and laid her on his bed gently. He knew that Granger would probably kill him tomorrow for what he was about to do, but he was willing to live with the consequences. He peeled off her dress, holding his breath to keep from inhaling the stench of vomit. Hermione slept throughout the process, not stirring once. Malfoy had to admire her body. It was thin and perfectly proportioned. She was not wearing a bra, but she was wearing a nice pair of panties, Draco thought. He forced himself to keep his eyes away from Hermione's breasts. He did accidentally see them, and he didn't regret it at all. He transformed a quill on his bedside stand into a woman's night shirt and slipped it on her. He took out a pair of his boxer shorts from the armoire and magicked them on her legs, not trusting himself to do it. He knew he'd get distracted and end up doing something else entirely. After all, he never finished his shag. He smiled reminiscently; he had two good shags tonight, not including the last one with the brunette.
Feeling frustrated and bothered, Malfoy cast a quick glance in Hermione direction. She was still slumbering peacefully. Malfoy dropped his pants to his ankles and kneeled in front of Hermione. Looking at her the whole time, Malfoy began to move his fist up and down his shaft in a slow, steady motion. His breathing became ragged and quick, and he increased the speed of his fist. He was moving it faster and faster. His breath was short, and he could feel his release coming. He thought of Hermione's naked form that had been in front of him moments before. He thought of slamming Hermione into a wall, slapping her face painfully, and then kissing her. He wanted to hurt her and physically be with her at the same time. Malfoy grunted loudly and felt his release. Waves of pleasurable joy came over him, blinding him for a second.
He looked at Hermione again, still sleeping like a child. He walked up to her, spit in her face viciously, and then seconds later pulled the covers over her, cupping her face. He walked out the room and softly clicked the door shut.