"So."
Draco cleared his throat.
Hermione was sitting uncomfortably in her seat at her desk opposite Draco. He had arrived in the afternoon after the trial and they were now sitting while the silence ensued.
She laughed nervously and then said, "Would you rather we went to a less formal environment? I feel terribly awkward."
"Yes!" said Draco suddenly, jumping out of his seat. Clearly he wasn't as comfortable as he'd been letting on.
"We could go back to my room at the Leaky Cauldron," suggested Hermione. "It's not far from here."
"Right," said Draco. "Well, I'll uh, see you there."
They both Apparated out. During the split second that she was away from Draco she pondered what to say. She touched down in her bedroom and not much later so did Draco.
"Shall I get you some coffee?" asked Hermione hospitably.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," said Draco.
More silence.
"Well I guess I'll…change out of these clothes. I'll be right back," said Hermione walking into the washroom.
She changed out of her business robes and put on Muggle clothing consisting of a white tee-shirt with a gray cardigan on top and a simple pair of faded jeans.
When she came out Draco was sitting with his legs crossed elegantly on one of the parlor chairs and Hermione magicked herself a cup of coffee.
Tucking her legs underneath her on an adjacent chair she said, "So. Let's talk."
When Draco seemed hesitant to talk first Hermione cut in saying, "Look, I like you. I don't know why but I do. I think about you all the time and I can't stop thinking about that kiss in your manor."
She blushed slightly but held her head up, determined to get everything out.
A small smirk was forming on Draco's face and Hermione was disbelieving. He was actually smirking at a time like this?
"Wow, don't hold anything back, Granger," he drawled.
Hermione gaped at him, ready to throw him out of the hotel room should he get too cocky or superior, but he humbled and smiled slightly at her.
"For a long time I felt like I couldn't like you, couldn't even talk to you, because of my father. I grew up with an obscure set of morals – never associating with Muggles or muggle-borns because they were less than human, making people feel inferior. As I grew up around my father and the Dark Lord, I realized I didn't want that. I always thought the Dark Lord was a powerful man who knew everything, but when I met him – when I heard his girlish voice and saw his inhuman face – I couldn't do it. I couldn't sacrifice my soul to someone – something – so repulsive and unfeeling.
"But I couldn't just say no. Inside I hated the Dark Lord but outside I had to pretend. I had to pledge to him, get branded against my will. All to save myself from my father's wrath. My mother was the only one who cared about my wellbeing. During my 5th year my father and mother fought constantly over my future. In the end my father won and during the summer of my 5th year I was branded. I was a Death Eater. You know the rest. You know what happened during our 6th year and how I fled with Snape. Snape cared about me along with my mother. I didn't think I would return to Hogwarts the next year, but I did. The war was postponed for another year. My last year at Hogwarts. When the War started I knew I couldn't fight in it. I couldn't fight with Potter but I couldn't fight with my father either. I went into hiding with Snape and Pettigrew and didn't emerge until it was over.
"After the War and after my father's death I knew something had to change. I didn't like what I had become. I just wanted to do every possible thing to defy my father, to prove I wasn't under his control anymore. The worst possible thing I could have done was work with Muggles. I took the job as Muggle-Magic correspondent at the Ministry and made my way up to working directly with the Minister for Magic. And you know what? I loved my job. I love diplomacy and economics and power. I had all of that and I didn't mind in the slightest that I was working with Muggles. I found Muggle technology and culture fascinating and I realized what I'd been missing my whole life. What I'd been taught to hate for my whole life."
Hermione was silent and attentive the whole time. She was immersed in Draco's tale, understanding completely now why he had been so horrible during their school days. He was just a tormented boy who had finally found his freedom.
He was fidgeting with the hem of his sweater when he continued.
"When I met you again at the Portkey station, it was like a slap in the face. You brought back all these memories that I'd been trying so hard to suppress. I couldn't deal with my father's death or the War or what I used to be, so I shut you out. I became that bastard Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts again and I didn't know how to get back to the real world. I avoided you but circumstances put us together. I realized that the more I was with you, the stronger I became. I could fight off my father's ghost, I could become the man I've always wanted to be, and it's all because of you. And so here I am, begging you to forgive me for everything I've done to you, because I want you, Hermione Granger. I want you, body and soul."
Hermione felt slow tears falling down her cheeks and dripping onto her cardigan. She didn't know why she felt so happy all of a sudden, but she could feel herself grinning.
She jumped out of her seat and ran to Draco, his arms reaching out to embrace her. She sat in his lap and buried her face into his neck, laughing happily.
He kissed her slowly at first, then with more speed and urgency. He was hungry for her. Now that he knew she was his to keep, he wanted every inch of her.
He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to her by putting her hands on the back of his neck. She moaned in his mouth pleasurably, causing him to pull her waist into him. He was walking now, but Hermione didn't care what he did, as long as he never stopped kissing her.
She couldn't believe she had missed out on physical contact for all of her life. Her kisses with Viktor and the small ones with Ron had been nothing compared to this. Draco's kisses were toxic – sickly sweet and addicting. She could always taste the mint in his mouth and smell the faint air of cigarette smoke on his clothes. She wanted to devour him.
Suddenly she fell back against the bed and she yelped, startled. Draco was still kissing her hungrily, his hand slowly making its way up the back of her shirt.
When his hand touched the back of her bra, she pushed him off, suddenly alert.
He looked up at her from the ground, confused and annoyed.
"What were you doing?" she asked sharply.
He looked at her weirdly, one of his eyebrows raised condescendingly. "I was experiencing possibly the hottest kiss in the world."
"But your hand was…"
"Oh," said Draco, finally understanding. "I forgot you'd never done it."
Hermione blushed deeply, her face suddenly feeling hot. "You probably think I'm a prude now – "
"Nonsense Granger – Hermione," said Draco. "It's alright, really. We don't have to do that."
"But you want to," pressed Hermione.
"Well, yes, darling, I'm a guy," he laughed, running a hand through his hair.
Hermione sighed, frustrated, and flopped back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.
Draco got off the floor and lay on the bed beside her, playing with her hair.
"You know, I never used to like your hair," said Draco randomly. Hermione couldn't believe he was talking about something so irrelevant, but he continued. "I like it now. I like running my hands through it."
"I'm really sorry about this," apologized Hermione. "I thought I would be okay with it, but evidently I'm a senile old woman when it comes to sex."
Draco kissed her cheek sloppily and said, "Yeah, you are. You're 26, Hermione. Most girls have been sleeping around since Hogwarts. I remember the first time I did it – with Pansy Bloody Parkinson in my 4th year."
Hermione gaped at him. "4th year? You were…you were only 14, Malfoy!"
"Bit old, I know," he said airily. "It was the worst first time ever. Pansy kept moaning with pain the whole time, and once she even threw me off the bed, much like you just did. It got a lot better though. Those Hufflepuffs…well, you'd never expect them to be so willing or experienced."
Hermione smacked his chest and he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I don't mind if you don't want to have sex yet. Or ever. God knows I've had enough sex for five men combined."
"You shouldn't tell your girlfriend these things," said Hermione acidly. She paused, embarrassed, when she realized what she just said. "I mean, I'm not saying I am your girlfriend – "
"Will you be?" asked Draco. "I know you wouldn't be comfortable with an open relationship."
Hermione favored him with a beautiful smile and said, "When did you get to be so accommodating?"
"You think that's accommodating?" said Draco evilly, and he pulled Hermione towards him, immersing her in those addictive kisses again.
Draco was careful not to do anything to make Hermione uncomfortable, so for the rest of the evening they alternated between kisses and laying on her bed in silent bliss.
When Hermione awoke the next morning to find Draco Malfoy, shirtless, sleeping in her bed, she was horrified and startled.
She yelped and leapt back off the bed, causing Malfoy to stir slightly. He grunted and turned to the other side and Hermione was left to gape at him.
She looked down at herself and was relieved to find out she was still fully clothed. Did anything happen last night?
She shoved at Malfoy violently and he didn't respond lightly. He yelled obscenities at her, though he was clearly not awake enough to make sense. When she shoved him again he jolted up and fixed her with a stern glare.
"What?" he snapped.
He clearly was not a morning person.
"What are you doing here?" she asked slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"Don't patronize me," he snapped again. "What do you mean what am I doing here?"
He looked down at his bare chest and smirked when he looked back up at Hermione. He said, "Your level of prudery astounds me more and more, Granger."
"I'm not a prude!" she protested, her face beginning to feel hot. "You obviously don't mind my kisses…"
"No, definitely don't mind those," he chuckled. "Would you like me to put a shirt on? Don't like the big, bad man with his shirt off? Of course not, what would mummy say?"
She huffed at him and stalked out of the bedroom to make herself a cup of coffee. She couldn't argue with Malfoy this early in the morning without some caffeine in her system. He was like a petulant child, always justifying himself and acting like a condescending son of a bitch. Most of the time she found it sexy and it proved his wit, but when it was directed at her she felt stupid and vulnerable.
Moments later she felt arms wrapping around her waist and soft lips kissing her neck.
"Is this how it's always going to be?" Draco murmered as he caressed her. "I don't mind the making up bit; it's just the arguing in the morning which offsets me."
Hermione held steady, ignoring him. She let him kiss her neck but didn't respond in this slightest.
He turned her around in one swift move so she was facing him, and he forced her chin up so she could look him in the eye. He dipped his head down toward hers and gave her a long, sweet kiss. His tongue swept hers and pleasantly surprised her as he bit softly on her lower lip.
When he retreated Hermione smiled and smacked his chest.
"You're so skinny," she said, looking at his chest.
Malfoy was most indignant. "I happen to be a muscular son of a bitch, thank you very much."
"Muscular?" Hermione snorted. "In what sense of the word? You're just a tall sack of skin and bones."
"I can say the same about you," retorted Malfoy. "Look at that flat chest! What are you, a boy?"
Hermione gaped at him, shocked. She could feel a slight blush creeping up her neck as she glanced down at herself.
Malfoy laughed above her and brought her close. "I'm just kidding. Frankly, I love that flat chest of yours; I find it sexy and androgynous. You've got that hot librarian look…I've never shagged a librarian before."
"And you never will if you keep this up," she scolded, turning away from him to drink her coffee.
He yawned loudly and stretched beside her, looking like an adorable little boy who's just woken up from his nap. Hermione admired his manly yet boyish good looks. He had a slender and pointed pale face, with the softest yellow-white hair – almost like a chick's feathers. He was skinny, true, but it was in the nicest way. Hermione loved being able to wrap her arms tightly around his waist and smell his distinct scent – that scent of cloves and cigarette smoke. His eyes were so large and gray that she sometimes just wanted to dive right into them and drink up the silver, which was surrounded by long black lashes. The black lashes against his light hair and pale face made his eyes seem larger and she loved it. She would never admit to Malfoy that she felt plain and ugly in comparison to him. What would people say when they found out they were dating? Would women along the street look at her with contempt and think, how ugly is she next to Malfoy?
"Something wrong?" Malfoy asked, snapping her back to him.
"No, no," she said hurriedly. "I'm still getting used to us, is all."
"Well we have to get to work," said Malfoy. "I'm really not looking forward to seeing Scrimgeour's vampiric face this morning."
Hermione groaned outwardly and leaned against him, not wanting to go to work.
"Will you meet me for lunch?" she asked him.
"Mm, now that I can look forward to," he said.
He kissed her again and said his goodbyes before he Apparated back to his Manor to prepare for the day.
Despite feeling plain next to Malfoy, Hermione now had a newfound confidence. She had a boyfriend. A rich, handsome, powerful boyfriend. That wasn't even why she liked him – she liked the thought of being someone's girlfriend. It made her feel better about herself, because Malfoy had chosen her. He could have had any girl he wanted – and indeed he often did end up "having" them – but he had chosen her to be his girlfriend. She wasn't just a shag; in fact, Malfoy wasn't getting any of that from her, and he was still with her.
She hummed happily as she dove into her suitcase and brought out another business suit, though this one with a shorter skirt and tight red Oxford shirt. She felt like dressing up a bit today.
As she was changing she absentmindedly thought about where she would live. She couldn't possibly live in a hotel room forever – the expense alone would clean her bank account out. She supposed she could think about buying or renting a place of her own, since she didn't want to bother Ginny again. When she had enough money to buy a nice place maybe she would, but for the short-term she would stay at the Leaky Cauldron. It was her only option.
Work was a lot more fun than she expected. She spent the day prepping for her first meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister which was the next day. Rose was a bit more talkative than usual and helped her out tremendously.
Her new staff had taken to her well and was always warm with her. Hermione was more than relieved, since she had been worrying about getting along with her employees the most. Orlinda stopped by briefly and chatted with her, putting her in a lighter mood.
She saw Harry once during the day and took advantage of their 15 minutes together.
"How's Ron doing?" Hermione asked him.
Harry shrugged. "I haven't spoken with him since the trial. Fred told me he's staying with Molly and Arthur for a few days. To clear his head and whatnot."
Hermione winced and asked, "How did they take it? Were they upset?"
Harry looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not sure, but I personally think they were accepting about it. They're Ron's parents, after all, and they must have seen what a distress Ron was in. He's beating himself up about it and Molly and Arthur know he didn't do it on purpose. It was just the result of an evil man's antics."
"I hope he's himself again soon," said Hermione. "I hate to think of him hurting like this."
"He just needs some time to think about his life," reassured Harry. "This trial has probably opened his eyes to a lot of things in his life, and he just needs to set his priorities straight. I know he'll come out victorious – I went through a lot of those down periods before, during, and after the War, and I know how he must feel. Just give him some space for a while."
"I have something to tell you too," said Hermione hesitantly. "To tell all of you, actually. I'm…well…Malfoy and I…"
Surprisingly, Harry smiled at her encouragingly. "I know. I saw you and Malfoy kissing yesterday after the trial."
"You did?" said Hermione, aghast.
"Don't look so frightened, I'm not the one you should be afraid of," chuckled Harry. "When Ron finds out you two are dating he'll probably curse Malfoy into oblivion."
"But you're okay with it?" Hermione inquired.
"I don't love Malfoy, as you very well know," said Harry sharply. "But who am I to invade your right to happiness? You can't help who you fall in love with. If you're happy, I'm happy, and there's nothing more to it. Be with him and be happy, if that's what you truly want."
Hermione smiled at him. "It is. It is what I truly want. He makes me so happy, you wouldn't believe it. He's nothing like the Malfoy we knew at Hogwarts – I know you'll see the change in him."
Harry kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad. You deserve some bliss."