bA/N:/b Just a small note. I am aware that there's quite a jump here in how Draco sees Hermione. For the record, his first conscious attraction to her was at Halloween; considering this chapter starts with New Year, they've been friends for quite some time, and so Draco has had time to become more aware of his attraction.
Also a slight bwarning/b: this chapter contains slight sexual innuendos and a bit more. I promise not to go in to the gory details though so it should be fine as long as you're older than 13.
Enjoy.
000
buChapter 3:Picking Stars:/u/b
IPick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light/I
bMinistry of Magic, New Year's Party
Thursday, December 31, 1998 – Friday, January 1, 1999/b
Draco watched the Potters dance closely, followed by Weasley and Granger in the customary midnight dance and he felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. It had nothing to do with Granger, he told himself; he just wanted what they had, a happy relationship, someone to come home to; and he wanted it badly. And so he proceeded to do the only thing he could to rid himself of the small emptiness in his heart, he got royally drunk.
i"Weasel-bee! Potter stinks! Ginny laid an egg!"/i he sang at the top of his lungs to the tune of "Jingle Bells" about an hour later, swallowing another shot of Firewhisky. Granger was sitting next to him, snorting while still managing to look concerned. "Loosen up, Bookworm, or I'll add you to the song too!" He passed her a shot, daring her with a pointed look to take the drink. With an extremely sexy eyebrow tilt, she lifted the little glass and downed it in a second. Draco clapped, looking at her with awe and surprise.
"Hermione! There you are!" Weasley said, suddenly appearing beside the petite brunette, breathless from the massive dancing he had just done with the Potters. The couple in question soon followed, flopping into the available seats. Two chairs were left empty for Neville and Luna who were still boogieing on the dance floor. Draco absentmindedly noted again that he was the only one who hadn't brought a date. Granger had been harping on him about it ever since Christmas Eve at the Burrow when he had told her he was not going to bring anyone. He couldn't possibly tell her his heart was unwilling to find anyone even remotely attractive ever since… NO! He refused to even think about it!
"Draco," her voice cut through his thoughts. "Sing them your song!" she said, suppressing a laugh. He grinned mischievously at her before bursting into song once again. They spent the next hour coming up with more verses for the song, each one getting more and more ridiculous. At some point even Neville and his airhead girlfriend, Luna, joined them, making up some truly dirty and disturbing lyrics. Who knew the formally pinkish boy could have such a dirty mind, no wonder he and Draco had got along so swimmingly after the war.
Draco leaned on Granger both participating in a round of 'Odo the Hero' when the chimes sounded, telling everyone it was long past midnight and it was time to skedaddle out of the Ministry. Draco got to his feet and immediately proceeded to fall down on the floor, laughing hard. Granger and Weasley stood up too, her laughing at Draco and him scowling at the blonde man's inebriated state. Granger, looking to him like an angel in her pure white dress with the blue sash and the little yellow flower on the side, offered him her hand, still giggling under her breath. He took it without much thought, her warmth immediately racing through his system and hitting his heart painfully. He got up with her help, standing on his wobbly legs. It got so bad he almost fell down again, but his angel quickly circled her hand around his waist, holding him up. He grinned sheepishly at her, then at the dark expression that her boyfriend was giving him.
"I'm taking him home," she told the rest of the group. Weasley looked at her disapprovingly. "Oh, don't you give me that look, Ronald. He is my friend, and your friend too, at that, and we need to take care of him, especially when he's like this."
Draco tried to object to her accusation of his incapability to take care of himself, but instead found himself leaning forward too far, almost falling flat on his face. Granger tightened her grip on him, holding him more firmly and looked pointedly at Weasley.
"Good night everyone," she murmured. "I'll see you at home, Ron." And with that she dragged Draco away from their friends. He threw a look at them over her head and waved happily, saying a hearty "G'night!"
They walked out of the extensively decorated hall and she apparated them to his apartment. He stumbled slightly as they stopped in front of his couch. She led him gently to his room, still holding him around his waist, and he absentmindedly put his arm around her slim shoulders, enjoying the perfect feel of her body against his. She didn't seem to mind much, leaning in to his embrace. They entered his bedroom and she untangled herself from his body, helping him take off his shoes and socks, looking pointedly at his chest.
"Take… take off your shirt," she murmured, looking anywhere but his face as a pretty blush crept up her already pink cheeks.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered, laughing huskily as her blush moved farther down to her neck and chest. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way," he murmured as he undid his buttons slowly.
"Thank you," she mumbled, her eyes moving to the carpet. "It's nice to hear."
"Weasley didn't tell you?" Draco asked, extremely surprised; she looked exceptionally beautiful tonight and he couldn't think how everyone had not told her so. She shook her head, not saying another word as he took off his shirt and started undoing his belt buckle. She looked up just before he took his pants off; her eyes grew large as she took in his toned body and, becoming bright red, turned her back to him. He chuckled and she seemed to shiver slightly.
"You can turn around now," he told her as he fastened the cord of his light gray sleep pants, forgoing the shirt even though it was cold outside. iThank Merlin for warmth charms/i. She turned slowly, still staring at the floor.
"I… I should go," she mumbled.
"You probably should," he agreed, his mind beginning to calm down slightly. "Good night, Granger. Happy New Year." He got into bed, knowing she would let herself out.
"Good night, Draco. Happy New Year." And then she was gone, her voice still trailing behind her like it always seemed to do to Draco, hunting his dreams. With a small smile on his lips, he fell asleep to illegal dreams of him and his brown haired angel.
000
Draco woke up Friday afternoon with a roaring headache and a very flimsy memory. He felt as if an army of Goblins had taken residence inside his skull and had decided to demolish their new home with everything they had. He cursed under his breath as he stumbled into his bathroom, his eyes shut tight and his hand holding his forehead in place. He scrambled to the sink and looked in the cabinet above it, searching for some sobering potion. He found it quickly but it took him about three minutes to uncork the uncooperative bottle. Finally he took a sip, already feeling better. The rest of his day (about four hours or so) was spent in his library, reading an article for work. It took him ages to finish, as he couldn't seem to be able to concentrate on the piece of medical research. His mind kept drifting to last night and the way Granger's dress had seemed to hug her subtle curves as she swayed to the music. Finally, he retired to bed, his body still exhausted even if his mind wasn't.
Saturday seemed to pass much the same way by playing a game of hide and seek with his concentration. Once again, for probably the fourth time in his life, Draco went to sleep early.
He was awakened by a loud thud on his window. Cursing whatever it was that had disturbed his beautiful dream, Draco got up and, pushing the curtains away, let the little owl in. It took him a minute to realize it was Granger's barn owl, Feathers (for a self-proclaimed bookworm she really had no imagination when it came to her pets' names; she had once told him she used to have a fish named "Bubbles"). He took the note she offered quickly.
I'Draco,
I need help. It's quite urgent.
Hermione.'/I
Fearing the worst, Draco dropped the parchment carelessly to the floor, grabbing his clothes without really looking at them. He ended up with a pair of dark, faded jeans, a long-sleeved gray shirt he usually used for workouts, a Molly-Weasley-hand-made jumper in green and silver with a black dragon roaring on the front, a red scarf and a blue hat. Pulling his long coat on, he ran out his bedroom door, disapparating to the closest apparition point to her apartment.
He found her on the pavement at the entrance to her apartment building, surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes. She was swearing under her breath, her hair a mile around her head, and her eyes shining widely with anger. He approached with caution.
"Granger?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to anger her further.
She stood up when she saw him, moving to him quickly, her face looking relieved. "Oh, Draco, thank Merlin!" Her eyes shown brighter, steeling her resolve. "You don't have a conscience, right?" She asked, a fire blazing in her irises, promising retribution to whomever had angered her.
"Sorry to disappoint, Granger," he said sarcastically. "But you and the rest of your nosey little gang took it upon yourselves that I would, in fact, have a conscience." She scowled at him. "Now, what happened?" he asked, setting her back down and sitting next to her, their bent knees touching.
"I broke up with Ron," she said in a rush, as if needing to hear the words to truly believe them. Draco stared at her in shock. "I don't want to talk about it," she quickly said then continued, looking at her hands. "Anyway, then that right bastard kicked me out! I suppose I deserve it, but still! And now I don't have a house and I'm stuck!" She shut up, realizing she was rambling.
"Just move in with the Weasleys," he offered, shrugging. "Merlin knows Molly has been begging you for long enough."
"I can't! Now that Charlie's back and Percy, Audrey and the girls are staying there, there's no room. Besides, I can't exactly move in with Ron's family after I broke up with him," she stated, looking at Draco as if he was daft.
"So, move in with Potter and Ginny?" he suggested.
"Are you ever going to call Harry by his name?" she asked. He shook his head, grinning at her McGonagall-like expression. "And to answer your question, there is no way I am moving in with the newlyweds!" She snorted, looking extremely bitter and Draco was running out of sane, healthy ideas. Because he did have an idea, a potentially dangerous idea for his mental health; and yet the idea was so perfect and Draco's dark, ugly, egocentric side, who sounded strangely like Fred and George, was whispering in his ears an opportunity no Slytherin could forgo.
He looked down at the ground as he told her his idea. "Why… don't you move in with…" he swallowed, "me?" His eyes stayed on the road as he started rambling. "My flat, as you very well know, is big enough for the both of us, and the guest room has its own bathroom so no awkward moments…" Ioh, how he longed for those awkward moments.i/ "The only bad part is my mother's insistence to visit once a week for lunch but she adores you so I doubt that would be a problem… so…" He looked up, seeing her shocked, blank expression for the first time. "What do you say? Roommates?" Her face morphed into a dazzling smile and she flung her arms around his neck.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Draco! You are an absolute lifesaver!"
He sat there, in complete shock, before his mind turned back on and he circled her thin waist with his large arms and inhaled her intoxicating aroma. He was shocked to find how very right having her in his arms felt.
All too soon, though, she let him go. She smiled sheepishly up at him, playing with the hem of her shirt.
He gave her a crooked smile back. "That's what friends are for, Granger, isn't that right?" She nodded then frowned at him.
"One condition, though…"
"I'm doing you a favor and you're setting up conditions?" he asked, chuckling and smiling at her to tell her he meant it as a joke. She laughed right along with him and, to his ears, it sounded perfect.
"I'm serious about this," she told him. He shut up and waited. "If I'm moving in with you, you need to start calling me Hermione." She looked away from him, waiting for his answer.
"Hermione…" he tried it out, liking the way it rolled off his tongue, he was again overcome with a weird sense of iright/i. She looked up at him, her eyes smoldering with strange emotions. Draco shuffled his feet, getting up. "Alright, Hermione…" she beamed up at him, taking the hand he was offering her and using it to get up and stand in front of him. "Let's take your things home," and for the first time, it truly felt like home.
000
The weeks passed by, and Draco and Hermione fell into a routine. She still wouldn't talk about why exactly she had broken up with Weasley, but Draco wasn't pressing, knowing that at some point she would tell him on her own. She still went to the Burrow every Friday night for dinner, a thing she had made Draco join in doing, and she and her ex-boyfriend seemed to get along quite well, although the red-head did shoot Draco with odd looks every once in a while.
Every morning, she would wake up around six am, taking a quick shower and getting dressed for her day. At seven, she would start playing music in the apartment, waking him up that way. He would then blindly make his way to the bathroom, take a barely awake shower, brush his teeth and then proceed to get dressed in a haze; he was not a morning person.
He would come out at around seven-thirty, following his nose to the kitchen where usually she would be in the middle of making breakfast. He would sit down, a hot cup of coffee already waiting for him on the table next to the newspaper and he would wait for her to finish, listening to her sing to the light music.
She would make fried eggs, or toast, or pancakes on Saturday and they would sit down and eat. Sometimes they'd talk, sometimes she would read to him from the paper and sometimes she would read to herself, not looking up until they both finished. Episkey would come in then and clean up what ever there was to clean. The little elf and Hermione had taken quite a liking to each other, something that really helped Hermione with her work on Elfin Rights, a thing she was still quite passionate about.
Then they would both leave for work, him at the hospital, where he was now considered the must talented and most liked intern, outdoing his friend and competition, Blaise Zabini, and her to her job at the Ministry as a Magical Law Enforcer, where she was slowly making her way up to Legislation.
She would get back home at around six. He would arrive two hours later and she would already be making dinner after taking a shower. They would sit down together and just talk. Most days he would rant about one thing or another the Healers made him do and she would laugh and say that she knew he was going to do the same to the interns when he was a Healer, a thing that made him nod enthusiastically.
On days he was home early, she would make him drag himself to the kitchen and help her cook dinner. Of course, he knew how to cook and was quite good, but Hermione was amazing, and he never missed a chance to be her eager pupil.
She had also upgraded his library, adding her muggle literature along with the many magical books she had obtained in the past eight years. She also made him read some of them, including Shakespeare and Dickens. To her obvious amusement he had taken quite a liking to Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl; he enjoyed the absurdness their worlds had and the lack of caring they seemed to hold for what was considered normal. His favorite book so far was uMatilda/u; she reminded him of Hermione in a way, but he would never admit such a thing, especially not to her, and so he had to sneak the book every time to devour it quickly before she found out. Every time he finished a book, they would sit around after dinner and discuses why he did or didn't like it and what he thought of the characters. Soon, their talks became deeper and they would share things from the past, both from their time at Hogwarts and before. It was amazing to see how different their worlds were, and yet they made it work, even if they did still fight all the time, it lacked the venom it used to have. They were friends.
The first two months of her stay went like this, and they both seemed to enjoy it. But Draco should have known that something would disturb the peace he had started to feel. It happened two and a half weeks after Valentine's Day, for which neither had had a date, so they had decided to just stay home that night and watch a hilarious movie on the telly Hermione had brought with her when she moved in.
It was March 3rd when Draco finished work much earlier than usual after a surprisingly grueling day, returning about ten minutes after her. He called out to the seemingly empty house, hearing no answer, but seeing her coat lying on the sofa and her bag dropped on the floor. He could hear the faint noise of water running from her room. He sighed and walked to the kitchen, making himself a late lunch as he had missed his own while taking care of some poor sap who had managed to cut his finger with a spoon.
He was putting his pasta on a plate, whistling to himself the song Hermione had played that morning, when Ishe/I walked in to the kitchen, dripping wet, wearing only a small, perfectly white towel and holding a bat over her shoulder with one hand.
"Oh! Draco! Thank Merlin!" she exclaimed, putting down the bat. "I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here so early?" she asked.
Draco looked at her, his jaw falling open as all the blood sprinted away from his brain. She gave him a baffled look before looking down at herself and realizing what she wore. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a little 'O' before she ran to her room and slammed the door behind her with a loud 'Bang!' leaving Draco standing in the middle of the kitchen, his lunch long forgotten.
000
It was three days after the towel fiasco that Draco finally saw Hermione again. She was timidly making her way from her room to the kitchen and he just happened to be sitting on the sofa.
"Hi," he said quietly as she walked past him. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him with wide, embarrassed eyes. She blushed and quickly looked to the floor.
"Hi," she mumbled, still not looking at him. "Err… can we… just forget about It?" she asked, an edge of desperate begging seeping in to her voice. "iPlease?/i"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said nonchalantly, smirking at her. Her expression turned from desperation to confusion and then finally into a beaming smile. Draco's breath caught in his throat for some unknown reason.
"Thank you!" She awkwardly looked at her feet, shuffling them, then quickly walked to the kitchen. After a minute or so of bustling around in there she called out, angrily, "Malfoy! You are IDEAD/I! You finished all my chocolate snacks!"
Draco smirked to himself; all was back to normal.
000
"Makes me absolutely barny at times!" Draco ranted, pacing in front of the couch Blaise currently occupied. "Insufferable know-it-all! And she's a neat freak too! Well… not as bad as my mother, but still! Merlin, she aggravates me! And then she has the Inerve/I to prance around the apartment in her skimpy little p.j.s!" he kept grumbling to his friend, still digging a hole through the floor. Not a week had passed since the towel fiasco, as he enjoyed calling it, and they had fought, again. Of course, they always fought; they wouldn't be them if they didn't, but this time she had gone too far! To dare wash his precious, innocent white shirt with her evil pink underwear!
And what did his oh-so-wonderful friend do at Draco's clear and justified problems? He Ilaughed/I! Blaise Zabini was currently shaking with humor at his best friend's predicament.
"Dude!" the dark-skinned former Slytherin called, using the oh-so-aggravating nickname he had picked up while visiting America. "Stop it! I can't breathe!" he wheezed in between roars of laughter.
Draco just frowned at him, stopping mid-step. It took another couple of minutes for Blaise to calm down and when he finally sobered up, he gave Draco an extremely conceited look of understanding.
"So you like her, Drake, it's not the end of the world, you know."
"I… you… no… WHAT?" Draco spluttered, shocked by his friend's accusation. "I do Inot fancy/I Hermione freaking Granger!" Now, if only the nagging voice in his head would just stop calling him a liar.
Blaise just grinned that infuriating grin of his. "It's okay, Draco. I mean, she is quite smart, and funny, and cute," Draco started uncontrollably coughing, "and pretty, too, don't you agree?"
Draco mumbled under his breath, his eyes glued to the floor.
"You know what, Drake, if you're not interested in her in any way, you wouldn't mind if I ask her out, would you?" Draco looked up at his friend.
"Of… Of course not!"
"Great!" Blaise exclaimed, pouring himself another glass of Firewhisky. "I'll ask her tomorrow! I'm on rose duty…" he said, more to himself then the angered blonde on the sofa. The dark Italian got up and walked off to get something, leaving Draco to his thought.
He really didn't have any right to be mad at Blaise, he though, iit's not like I like Hermione!/i He was just feeling protective of her, like a good friend would, he told himself, trying hard to believe it. She was just his good friend and he didn't want her to get hurt. iThat's it!/i But as much as he tried to justify his reactions and feelings, the nagging feeling that he was lying to himself kept creeping up for the next couple of days, especially when Hermione came to him about it the day after his talk with Blaise.
"Draco!" she called as she got home, later then him, for the first time. "You wouldn't believe what happened to me today on rose duty!" She burst in to the kitchen with her hair covering half her face and shooting high above her head; it was obvious she had just got back from the windy rose gardens. "A group of Healer trainees came today- why weren't you there, by the way?" she asked, looking at him over the bowl of salad he was in the process of cutting.
"My shift's tomorrow," he muttered, slicing the tomatoes into small pieces.
"Oh… well, anyway, Blaise was there, we really should invite him here more often, he is your friend after all and he's so nice I really don't get why you whine about him so much…"
"Will you get to the point,iplease/i?" Draco grumbled, chopping the red vegetables.
Hermione mumbled a quiet "Sorry," before plucking a piece of cucumber from the bowl then continuing to tell her tale. "So we were working next to each other, and just talking when he asked me out on a date this Saturday!" She beamed up at him but he ignored her, ripping the tomato pieces even farther, the red juice dripping off the knife. "And I just wanted to ask if it was alright with you. I mean," and now she was looking at the floor, her cheeks red, "he's one of your best friends and I didn't want to go through with it unless I got your permission. I know it's only one date, and after Ron I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet, but it might be a good idea to go out a bit- get back in the game, I suppose… and Blaise is such a nice guy…" she was rambling now, and didn't seem able to stop so Draco cut in, just wanting her to istop talking/i about her future life as Mrs. Blaise freaking Zabini.
"Why," chop, "would," hack, "I," slice, "care? OWWWWWEEEE!" Draco screamed, clutching his cut finger, the knife falling unceremoniously to the floor as Hermione rushed to him.
"Draco! Merlin! Look what you've done to yourself!" She muttered, as she led him to the sink, turning the water on and letting it wash away the blood.
"My finger! My perfect finger! This is all your fault, Granger!" he whined.
"And how exactly is it imy/i fault, iMalfoy/i?" she asked, turning the water off and taking a better look at the small cut. Draco just pouted, suppressing the urge to whine some more as Hermione put a band-aid on his finger. "It has freaking unicorns on it, Granger," he stated, staring at the band-aid with distaste.
"You are such a spoiled little brat, Draco, no wonder your mother always complains about you!" Hermione chuckled, leaning over to pick up the knife.
"I am inot/i a spoiled brat!" he pouted. "And I'm sure as hell not ilittle/i!"
She laughed, putting the knife down. "Are too!" she called, leaning back on the counter.
"Am not!" he retorted, boxing her in with his hands on both sides of her.
"Are too!" she giggled.
"Am not! And that is final!" he told her in a sing-song voice, and then preceded to tickle her until she was leaning fully on him, her hands on his chest and her head on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. A hint of her shampoo assaulted Draco's nose and he leaned slightly closer, trying to get more of the intoxicating scent.
"Alright! Alright!" she finally called, wheezing out and pushing him back a little to his secret disappointment. "I give up! You are in no way, ilittle/i!"
He moved back, crossed his arms and smirked at her. "That's right, and you better remember that," he told her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She burst into another fit of giggles, her hands circled around her stomach and tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks.
"So," she said when she caught her breath again, "how inot/i little are you exactly?" she asked coyly, her cheeks turning red even as she stared at him unflinchingly.
"Why, Granger, I didn't know you had that in you!" Draco exclaimed, impressed by her words.
"Hermione," she corrected, her smile turning shy.
"Hermione," he agreed, smiling at her, his hurt finger long forgotten; that is, until she looked at his finger and gave a stifled snort. "UNICORN!" and she was back to clutching her stomach, light, warm laughter ringing out from her. So Draco did the only thing he could, he laughed with her.
000
"Are you sure this is okay with you, Draco?" Hermione asked for the hundredth time on Saturday as she got ready for her date with Blaise.
Draco stifled a moan, keeping his eyes on the same line he'd been trying to take in for the past five minutes.
"Yes, Hermione, I am sure!" he called back to her. Before she could ask him again, the doorbell rang.
"That must be Blaise! Could you get that?" she asked from behind the closed door of her room.
Draco sighed heavily but got up and walked to the front door, opening it and letting Blaise in.
"Hi mate," the dark Italian greeted, smiling widely. Draco gave him a small grunt in return, sitting back on the couch and trying to read that blasted line again. "Where's Hermione?" Blaise asked, sitting opposite Draco, the picture of nonchalance. The blonde pointed to her bedroom door. Blaise nodded, smirking at Draco.
"What do you want from me?" iTraitor/i, he added in his head for a reason he was unwilling to face yet. Instead of answering, the Italian's grin just grew wider. Before Draco could inquire farther, though, a crack sounded, signaling Hermione's appearance. Blaise immediately stood up, his grin turning into an awestruck smile.
"Hermione," he practically purred, making Draco sick. "You look even more beautiful then usual."
Draco got up too, and turned around to look at her. iDamn/i, Blaise was absolutely right; Hermione Granger looked utterly breathtaking, again. She was wearing a knee-length dark blue skirt beginning at her waist with a sensible white blouse tucked inside. Dark stockings and boots finished her look, making her seem both elegant and comfortable. She let her hair fall freely in light curls around her face, painted only with hints of make-up.
She smiled shyly at the two man, giving Draco a slightly uncertain look. He smiled at her gently, trying to let her know how utterly beautiful she looked. Her smile brightened and at that moment Draco couldn't suppress it anymore; it really didn't matter that she looked so beautiful at that moment, he always found her beautiful, even when she wore sweat pants and over-sized jumpers. He could not ignore the truth anymore; Draco Lucius Malfoy found Hermione Jean Granger attractive, very, very, attractive.
"We better get going, Hermione," Blaise's voice cut through his epiphany. "The show will start soon."
"Where…" Draco cleared his throat. "Where are you two going?"
"We're going to see a play and then to eat dinner at a restaurant," Hermione answered, beaming at her date. Blaise walked over to her and took her hand in his, grinning at Draco.
"Don't worry, mate, I'll have her home at… some point." The Italian told him, smiling wickedly at Hermione and leading her out the door. And so Draco was left alone, unable to think of anything other then the smile Hermione had given his dark-skinned friend.
000
"Don't you have a whole Manor to yourself?" Draco grumbled as he spotted Blaise on his couch for the second time since his date with Hermione two weeks and a half before. The Italian just shrugged, his eyes not leaving the book he was currently reading. "Where's Hermione?" he asked impatiently, turning to the kitchen to make himself a drink; hopefully, something strong.
"In her room, getting changed, we're going out for coffee…" Blaise answered. A quiet growl left Draco's lips. iMerlin, this attraction is really getting out of hand/i, he thought bitterly, taking a gulp of his Firewhisky.
"I'm ready, Blaise, let's go!" Hermione called out. Draco walked back to the living room. "Oh, hi Draco," she said, smiling as she saw him at the entrance of the kitchen. She also noticed the half-empty glass in his hand, frowning at him.
"It's been a long day," he muttered, not looking at her. "By the way," he said as he walked towards the small office they had made a library. "I won't be going to the Weasley dinner this week."
"Why?" both Hermione and Blaise asked at the same time.
He smirked to himself before answering, "I have a date."
000
"Well, that was a mess," Draco muttered to himself as he sat down on the couch, a stiff drink already in hand, after his disastrous date. It was bound to fail from the start really, considering he wasn't even the slightest bit interested in what his date had to say. The bomb-shell blonde should have been perfect, she wasn't very smart and she was a model, exactly the kind of girl he was expected to date. He had tended to her on Thursday at the hospital and when she was discharged had decided to ask her out'; Hermione was right after all- it was time to get in the game.
So he picked her up Friday night and took her to a nice, fancy restaurant in Diagon Alley; that's when the whole thing backfired in his face. The conversation was horribly, unbearably, atrociously b-o-r-i-n-g! He had gotten so used to intelligent conversation with Hermione, Blaise, Ginny, Potter and even some of the Weasleys that he had lost all capacity to deal with utter idiocy.
He was so uninterested that he couldn't even remember his date's iname/i; at which point, of course, what-ever-her-name-was had left him in the restaurant, not that he could blame her, really. So he returned home after finishing his meal (it really was quite a good restaurant and it seemed a shame for all that food to go to waste).
And now he was pathetically waiting for Hermione to come home. It really was quite pitiful the way he was yearning for the girl his best friend was currently dating, and whom he liked. iWait just a minute!/i LIKE? Since when did he ilike/i Hermione Granger? Of course, she was smart, kind, honest, brave, intelligent and beautiful, but he was just attracted to her, wasn't he? He wasn't supposed to ilike/i her! And yet, his heart and his brain were screaming at him that he did, in fact, like Hermione and a small whisper at the back of his head hinted that these feelings have been there for quite some time.
He stiffly got up from the couch and walked to his bedroom. Not bothering to take off his clothes, he fell, face first, into the soft material of his bed, which is where Blaise found him the next day.
"Drake! Mate! Wake up!" the dark-skinned wizard called, shaking Draco until he groaned and fumbled to a seated position. "So how was your date?" his best friend asked, giving him a Cheshire cat grin.
Draco burrowed his head in his hands, mumbling under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Horrible," Draco muttered, sighing. "I like someone already, apparently, and she was the only thing I could think of during the ridiculously bad date," he confessed.
"Finally!" Blaise exclaimed, his grin widening impossibly. "Took you damn well long enough!"
"Pardon?" Draco asked, dumbfounded.
"So what are you going to do about it? Are you going to ask her out?" his friend asked, practically jumping up and down like a teenaged school-girl.
"She's dating someone…" Draco deadpanned, looking at the floor.
"No she's not."
"Yes she is!"
"No, Draco, Hermione Granger is not dating anyone at the moment." Draco blinked at his friend, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again then left it shut before opening it again.
"But… She… You… No… HOW?"
"She likes someone else," Blaise said, smirking. "And if we're at it, so do I; remember Daphne Greengrass?" The dark-skinned man smiled at his still dumbfounded best friend.
"Happy for you… Now what did you say about Hermione?"
"On our date, I realized she already likes someone- she wouldn't stop talking about him, so we decided we were better suited as friends. So now you have an opportunity, what are you going to do?"
"But I don't!" Draco exclaimed as he got up and started pacing. "You just said she likes someone!"
"Merlin, you can be thick sometimes!" Blaise told him, shaking his head.
"You mean… she… me…" Draco mumbled, stopping dead in his tracks. Blaise just nodded, giving the blonde a reassuring smile. "MERLIN!" Draco whooped, smiling brightly and actually jumping up. He smiled at his best friend in thanks.
"You still need to take it slow, Drake. She still cares for Weasley and she's still hurt by him and afraid to be hurt again. I'm pretty sure she's the real deal for you-" Draco nodded solemnly, taking in every word. "So you need to be smart about it, don't let her know yet, take your time. Be her friend first, then her lover. That's what she needs right now, alright?" Draco nodded again.
Blaise got up and walked to the door, opening it and stepping out, but before he left he looked at the blonde man and said, "Oh, and if you hurt her, I won't care that you're my best friend, am I clear?"
He swallowed then answered, "Crystal."
With these parting words, Draco was left to his thoughts on how to make Hermione Jean Granger ihis/i.
000
It was Friday night as Draco and Hermione made their way across the garden to the Burrow for dinner. They were chatting lightly, she teasing him about his awful date from last week and him moaning repeatedly for her to stop as they walked inside. "Hermione," Weasley's voice called in greeting. He showed up a second later, a dark haired woman on his arm. It took a minute for Draco to recognize her as the last time he had seen her she was a frightened girl with tousled hair and dark, fearful eyes; the Pansy Parkinson standing before them now, looked, for the first time in her life, truly happy (if not a bit awkward at meeting Hermione). She was glowing! Pansy smiled brightly at Draco then looked uneasily at Hermione.
"Hermione, this is my girlfriend, Pansy," Weasley beamed at his ex and Draco had the sudden urge to punch the guy, and hard.
"Girl…girlfriend…" Hermione murmured silently so only Draco could hear. "He…Hello, Pansy, it's… Lovely to see you again," she politely said, even managing a little smile at the ex-Slytherin.
"Draco! Hermione!" Molly Weasley suddenly appeared, hugging the two while almost deliberately ignoring the tense atmosphere. "I'm so glad both of you could make it this week! It wasn't the same without you, Draco, dear," Molly beamed, leading them to through the house to the back garden where a long table was set up, already surrounded by people. "Charlie, Bill, Fleur…" she giggled, "Well, I think just about everyone is here. And I see you've met Pansy," she gave them a look that said she thought Pansy was perfectly nice, but she much preferred Hermione. The bushy-haired brunette smiled in thanks at the Weasley matriarch before walking away to greet everyone.
"I told him he should wait with it," Molly confided quietly. "But he seems truly happy with Pansy and she's a lovely girl. But Hermione is still hurt and I don't think Blaise Zabini is the one that's going to help her through this." She looked pointedly at Draco who stiffened at hearing Molly agree with Blaise. "I keep waiting for her to realize the right guy for her is much closer then he seems but she stays amazingly ignorant. It seems Mr. Right is going to need to make a move sooner then expected," and with that said, she walked away, a mischievous smile brightening her motherly face. Apparently, everyone thought Draco and Hermione should be together, and they all decided to join forces and do something about it; iwell, that's a comforting thought…/i
Draco walked towards Fred and George, sitting down between them and Hermione. Everyone settled down and were passing the food around when Draco noticed Hermione seemed to be awfully quiet.
"You okay, Princess?" Draco asked quietly, passing the potatoes to the laughing twins. "You haven't even touched your food."
She nodded blankly, her eyes glued to her full plate. The blonde wizard sighed quietly, touching her hand for a minute before returning to a conversation with Charlie who was sitting across from him. Five minutes later she stood up abruptly and walked inside the house.
"What's wrong with 'Mione?" Fred asked, looking at Draco.
"I think it's your brother and Pansy that's got her so on edge…" he muttered in answer.
"That bloody idiot; Mom told him it wasn't a good idea! They've only been broken up for three months- he shouldn't be bringing his fiancé yet!"
"Fiancé?" Draco spluttered, looking at Fred with an open mouth.
"Yeah, didn't you see the ring on her finger? Mind you, he only had the money because he's been working with us for the last six months," the red-haired twin said, frowning.
"I sure as hell didn't see the bloody ring, but I will bet you Hermione saw it and that's why she's so upset. Pansy's seriously engaged to the Weasel?' Draco hissed. Fred nodded, popping a carrot into his mouth. "Merlin, that's absurd…"
He looked towards the house and saw Weasley walking there, a fierce look in his eyes. "Oh no… this is going to get ugly; I better go make sure it doesn't…" he told the twin, getting up and walking briskly after the now-disappeared Weasley.
"You're engaged," Hermione's voice came from the living room, quiet yet firm.
"I'm engaged," Weasley answered, sounding slightly sheepish.
"But… how?" she asked. "It's only been… not long enough…"
"I met Pansy in France a week after… you know… it was fast, I know, but I really love her, and she loves me, and she's willing to be something you never were willing to be for me," he deadpanned and Draco could almost see Hermione's face, as if she'd been slapped.
"I loved you, Ron!" she cried, sounding like she was fighting tears.
"You didn't," he told her calmly, like the sea before a storm. "You loved the idea of the future of us and Harry and Ginny, but lets face it, you never loved me; you always felt as if you were better then me- morally, intellectually, emotionally- and you would have never agreed to be a stay-at-home mom to our children; you care too much about your career, your ipotential/i. We were never going to work, especially after the war and you and ihim/i," he hissed. Draco got the distinct feeling he should not be listening to this conversation.
"Don't you idare/i bring him into this again! He has nothing to do with what happened to ius/i!" Hermione cried and Draco could now hear the tears in her voice. "He has been nothing but a friend to me!"
"You spent more time with ihim/i then me!" They were definitely talking about him. "And the way he looks at you! Did you really expect me to believe you don't care for him more then you ever did for me? I could see it in your eyes, Hermione; you wished I was him!" Weasley shouted as Hermione sobbed loudly. "And you and Harry accepted him iso easily/i, as if he had never done all those horrible things to us! As if he didn't try to kill Dumbledore!"
The room became silent as Draco strained to hear. Finally a shocked whisper came, "I loved iyou/i, Ron, and he had inever/i hurt me as much as you did," and with a loud Pop! She was gone, leaving behind a fuming Weasley and a shocked Draco.
"PANSY!" Weasley shouted as he stomped out the living room, not taking any notice of the slightly out-of-breath blonde wizard leaning against the wall. "WE'RE LEAVING!" Soon Draco heard two familiar pops of apparition and still he stayed frozen in his spot, thinking over what he had just heard.
"Draco?" Ginny timidly asked. He turned to her automatically, his mind miles away. "Where's Hermione?" she asked gently, putting a hand on his arm.
"Gone…" he mumbled.
"What happened?"
"She and Weasley had a fight… about…" he muttered then shook his head, trying to tell her he just couldn't talk about it yet. She nodded, smiling slightly at him.
"You need to find her," the red-haired witch told him then walked away. "Good luck!"
Not giving himself time to think, Draco immediately apparated home. "HERMIONE!" he called out, running through the rooms in search of the weeping girl. The house was the same as they've left it, empty. He checked the Potters house, Grimmauld Place, his aunt's house, Neville's apartment, he even flooed to the Ministry, but she was nowhere to be found.
Finally, he went to the last place he could think of- the Rose Gardens.
She stood between the roses, hugging herself as her hair was whipped back and forth by the rough wind. "Did you know roses are my mother's favorite flower? And my grandmother's, and mine? That's why I made the flowers roses- they remind me of family, of home," She said as he walked behind her. She turned to him and he could see the fresh tear streaks staining her pink cheeks. "I knew you'd find me," she mumbled with a weak smile before falling into his arms, sobbing hard. His arms circled around her shaking form and he just held her in the darkness as she cried.
"It's going to be okay, Hermione, I'm here for you," he told her over and over again, his hand brushing her hair absentmindedly until she calmed down slightly.
Finally, he let her go, seating her down on one of the few benches scattered around the gardens; he did keep his arm around her as she seemed to be cold in her light jacket.
"Hermione… I have to ask… did you and Weasley break-up because of me?" he asked as gently as he could, looking at her tenderly.
"No… it was one of the things we fought over, but at the end, it wasn't you; it was our inability to love each other without trying to constantly change one another. He's right to say we would have never worked," she muttered, looking at her lap.
"Then it's for the best," he told her, lifting her chin up gently so she had to look at him. "He and Pansy will be happy or they won't be, it shouldn't matter to you anymore," he said quietly.
"But it does!" she cried, fresh tears standing in her chocolate eyes. "Of course it does! We dated for six months! I've had a crush on him since I was fourteen! Merlin, I thought I was going to marry him and have his children!" Draco winced at that. "I hope he'll be happy. But he hurt me, Draco, so bad! The fights with him were awful! He always knows where to hit so it would hurt the most; all my weaknesses, all my fears!" she cried, letting Draco hold her close. They stayed like that for hours, him holding her and her leaning her head on his shoulder, her hands in his, until the moon stood high in the sky; and Draco felt right, and Draco felt home.
000
After that disastrous Friday dinner at the beginning of April, things sort of settled. Neither Draco nor Hermione saw Weasley or Pansy (though they both got matching invitations to the wedding- a thing they did not discuss), the Potters would come by at least once a week, usually along with Blaise and Daphne Greengrass (his new girlfriend) for dinner and games, and Hermione remained ignorant to Draco's feelings. He found himself wishing to tell her at the oddest moments, like when she read to him something she found particularly interesting in the paper, or when they would sit in the living room and complain about work, or when they worked side by side at the Rose Gardens and her hair was messily pulled back and her face were covered with dirt. That wasn't the worst part, however; the worst part was that his body seemed to have a mind of its own, drawn to come in contact with hers at every opportunity. He almost couldn't stop himself from just leaning down and kissing her right smack on the lips.
But he tried hard just to be there for her as a friend would and he succeeded most of the time; he doubted a truly platonic friend would have touched her as much as he did, but she didn't seem to mind it.
Then it was May.
It was Saturday, and three hundred and fifty four days after the Battle of Hogwarts had been fought. The wizarding world had been in a frenzy to celebrate and to celebrate big, to show its people that they had successfully rebuilt themselves. The Ministry had sent an invitation to both Draco and Hermione during April for both the memorial ceremony and the party afterwards, sending Hermione a special letter telling her she would be receiving an award alongside Messrs. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. She was quite enthusiastic about the whole thing, going on and on about how she would be able to promote the Rose Gardens in her thank you. And then it was Sunday.
Draco woke up at noon, not quite believing it had been a year since he feared for his life. And life was good now; his father was gone, his mother was happy and surrounded by family, he had friends and a job, but most of all, he had Hermione, and that was worth all the trouble the war had caused him. For the first time in his life, Draco was happy. So he got out of bed and, whistling a light tune, walked out of his room and into the kitchen where Hermione sat, books upon books scattered across the tabletop looking as if she was back at Hogwarts, studying in the Library for her exams.
"Good morning," he greeted, leaning down and kissing her cheek fondly. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Good iafternoon/i to you too, Draco," she smiled touching her cheek softly. "So what's got you in such a good mood?"
"Just happy to be alive," he grinned, breaking an egg into the frying pan. She laughed sweetly making him even more light-hearted. "Excited for your big night?" he asked, munching on a piece of slightly burned toast. She nodded, smiling sheepishly.
"We better start getting ready soon," she muttered, clearing the table. "We need to be in Hogsmeade at four, which is in an hour... I'm going to take a shower." She got up, and, stealing one of Draco's neatly cut cucumbers with a devilish grin, walked to her room. Draco was so distracted looking at her that he almost burnt his omelet, managing to some how save it just in time.
000
"First of all, I would like to thank my two best friends, Harry and Ron who share the glory and the burden of this victory just as much as I do. Second, to all the people who helped us reach this seemingly impossible goal in a time of great fear and terror, we all fought hard and this is iour/i victory," Hermione said, her voice magnified so that all the hundreds of people standing in the grounds of Hogwarts would be able to hear her. "This year has been a year of healing, rebuilding and moving on. We have all worked hard to put the past behind us and yet still pay our respects to the people who are not here with us to celebrate. We constructed these people a tombstone in our heart and in our souls, so we would forever remember what we fought for and what the price was. And so I also wish to thank all the people who took a part of the Rose Gardens project this year and for all the ones that will come and help next. I couldn't have done it by myself." A round of applause followed her words.
"And lastly, I want to thank Draco Lucius Malfoy," and she looked straight at him, "who had been more then just my friend and much, much more then just my partner. I would not have survived the war without you and I definitely would not have survived this year without you. Thank you." A massive round of applause wound all across the hills rolling away from the school as people stood on their feet and gave the Golden Trio their respects. Potter and Hermione smiled shyly and quickly got down from the stage, Weasley grinned at the crowd, gave a little wave then started down the steps and towards the place his fiancé was seating in the front row.
"So what did you think?" Hermione asked in a whisper as she sat down next to him, trying not to disturb the man now talking on stage.
"Thank you, Hermione," he murmured quietly, taking her small hand in his. "It meant a lot." She blushed sweetly and smiled at him, squeezing his hand.
They sat in silence for the rest of the ceremony, both not listening as they concentrated on their intertwined fingers.
As if timed (which it probably was), the ceremony ended with fireworks just as the sun fully set behind the Scottish mountains. Everyone "ooh'd" and "ahh'd" until the whole thing was over, then they all got up and headed to their houses. Draco and Hermione stood up slowly, wanting the moment to never end then let go of each other, looking sheepishly away. They quickly apparated home and disappeared into their rooms, trying desperately not to look each other in the eye.
It was half past eight and Draco was pacing the floor, waiting for Hermione to grace him with her bloody presence already.
"Will you just come the bloody hell out of there?" he shouted, his pace quickening.
"Five more minutes!" she called back, then proceeded to take twenty more.
"Granger!" Draco screamed. "You have two seconds or I'm going in-" the door opened, "- there…" he mumbled staring at the woman in front of him.
He thought it all the time really but when she looked like that it just made it all the more obvious that Hermione Jean Granger was stunningly, amazingly beautiful. She wore a tight, midnight blue cocktail dress that hugged her figure in all the right places yet managed to hide everything, making her look classic, mysterious and enticing. Her hair was left down, framing her lightly made-up face with dark, almost amber curls, and her shoes were classic black peep-toes. A shy and unbelievably attractive smile finished the look. "You…" he cleared his throat, "You look… beautiful," he murmured quietly, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. She giggled at his antics and he relished at the sound. He gave her a lopsided smirk as he offered her his arm. "Milady, shall we?" She laughed again then laid her hand in his, and a warm rush ran through his body at her touch as he apparated them away.
000
They danced all night, and when they weren't physically together they tried to stay in each other's line of sight. It was two a.m. when she was back in his arms, this time for a slow song. They were both quite tipsy by then and so they swayed slowly, holding close and moving gently from side to side.
"Merlin, Hermione," he murmured gently in her ear, leaning down to her height. "You look so beautiful tonight. I've wanted to have you here in my arms for so long." He kissed her behind the ear and felt her shudder against him.
She leaned her head against his chest and sighed contently. "I've been waiting too," she whispered, her hands running through his hair.
"You have?" he asked in surprise, looking down at her head of hair.
She nodded against him, holding him closer. He could feel every line of her body against his and it was sending all the blood away from his head. Hermione's hands were now drawing shapes on his exposed neck while breathing gently on his neckline. His body was going mad with want as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, just breathing her intoxicating scent. She was exquisite in every way, her mind, body and soul the perfect counterpart to his. She really was iit/i for him and he wasi sick of playing nice and waiting/i. He was igoing/i to have her.
Just as he was about to kiss her, the song changed, and Draco and Hermione were rudely ripped away from each other as the Harry, Ginny, Blaise, Daphne, Neville, Luna and even Weasley and Pansy joined them in an up-beat song. They were all jumping up and down, and Draco couldn't find Hermione through the crowd now, only able to curse their so-called 'friends'; at the moment they were all keeping him away from holding Hermione smack against his body. So he moved away from them all, grabbed the brunette's arm, and led her away from the loud dance floor.
"Let's go home," he murmured in her ear, circling her with both his arms and kissing her neck.
"Okay," she nodded, smiling sheepishly at him.
They apparated home as he started kissing her.
"I've wanted to do this for so damn long," he moaned, as she ran her hands beneath his shirt.
"This needs to go, now," she whispered in his ear as she unbuttoned his white dress shirt. He nodded, backing her against the door of his room just as she practically ripped his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his chest and stomach to her searing gaze and her exploring hands.
"IThis/i," he virtually purred, sliding his hands down her thighs to the hem of her dress, "needs to go." He slid one hand behind her back and, with a fluid movement, unzipped her dress. He ran his hand up and down her now exposed back as his other hand lifted the dress over her head, exposing her perfect, creamy skin to him. He sucked in a breath, his eyes running up and down her now only slightly covered body in awe as his hands stilled on her thin waist.
"You are so lovely," he whispered, leaning down and finally touching his lips to hers.
It was a heated kiss in its passion that made them both pant and moan and cling closer to one another. Her hands gripped his hair as she raked her nails through his strands of blonde while his hands sneaked around to her back, drawing her closer to him and making their naked stomachs touch. Draco shivered at the feel of her chest rising and falling alongside his as she gave him entry. Their kiss was far from gentle, filled with passion born of months of wanting and waiting, yet it still conveyed to her every emotion he felt and as they battled for dominance, he could see stars. As if on a drug, he could literally see all the people in his life as stars in the night for a brief second and, in that precious moment, he picked the warmest, safest, most beautiful star in his sky; he picked Hermione Jean Granger as his love.
"I want you, Draco," Hermione whispered then, making Draco's body catch on desperate fire as his heart skipped a beat. "Now," and with that they walked backwards to Draco's room.
000
iNo need to say good-bye
You'll come back/i