A/N: Well well, the weekend away awaits. I had quite the weekend myself. Randomness is always interesting. Bogans, midget conventions. :p Anyhoo, moving along, I think this is where we will see a permanent change begin to unfold in the lovely Hermione and devilish Draco. LMK your thoughts!
Chapter 19
It was Saturday morning, Hermione awoke to the sound of heavy rain hitting against her bedroom window. She pulled to duvet tighter around her, trying to ignore the building anxiety of the weekend ahead. Why had she agreed to go away to Chianti with Malfoy? It just brought with it undue pressure and a guilty anticipation that was extremely unnerving. She rolled over to her side to check the time on her bedside clock. It was ten in the morning and she still wanted to stay curled up and caccoon like. Hermione never slept past nine on the weekends.
The phone rang. Hermione groaned.
Begrudgingly, she threw the covers off in a huff, sat up, pausing momentarily, before leaning over her bedside table in reach of her wand. She was actually lazy enough to accio the phone to her from across the room. It was laughable.
"Hello?" her voice was groggy from her sleepy state.
"Morning, Granger." It could only be one person.
Startled awake, Hermione responded. "Malfoy?" she spoke into the receiver with sudden incredulity.
"Don't be so surprised, Granger, you're listed." Hermione rolled her eyes, silently admitting defeat. She had discovered only yesterday that the man used muggle phones so it didn't seem a far stretch that he could call a muggle operator.
"So, it seems." She heard a muffled chuckle from the other end.
"I was thinking of taking a portkey this morning, before the rush. Apparently, it's a busy weekend for trips to Italy."
"Oh, uhm, ok," she replied distractedly as realisation dawned that her acquiescence to go to Chianti with Malfoy was concrete fact. There was silence from the other end.
"Granger, if I'm wasting my time, just tell me, okay?" he finally spoke out, a hint of annoyance in his voice. In truth, Hermione was just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that she was speaking to Malfoy, via a telephone. The sound of his voice alone was…alluring. Even though she couldn't see him, it portrayed him down to a tee; a collected, cool baritone, with a note of confidence that hinted at a slight cheekiness, mixed in with the indefatigable drawl of the pureblood Slytherin. She suddenly realised she was yet to formulate a response.
"No, no," she tried to reassure, "I just kind of woke up," she admitted. She hit her forehead in reprimand.
"Well, there is no real need to pack much, the weather is mild, and we will be staying at Zabini's estate."
"Blaise Zabini?" Hermione faltered warily. Did she really want to accompany Malfoy to Zabini's estate? What would he think?
"Yes, Granger, Blaise Zabini," she could sense the amusement in his voice, like he was testing her.
"Fine, is there anything else I should know?" she replied with mock sarcasm.
He might have a few friends there this weekend," he stated with a tone of indifference, like it meant nothing, when if fact, Hermione could feel the onset of a panic attack. She was trapped. "Granger, really, it's fine. I have it all covered. I'll talk to you when I see you."
"Okay…uhm, what time and where?" she finally asked.
"I'm arranging a private portkey from my office, so can you be there in an hour?" Hermione looked at the clock – it was 10:15.
"Can we say 11:30?" He chuckled again.
"Alright, Granger, 11:30 it is. See you then."
She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, the phone dead in her hand, before throwing it over her shoulder and getting on with it.
Hermione rushed through her morning routine, decided on her outfit, and hastily filled her charmed bag with various clothes and shoes, not giving much thought to what she was actually throwing in. She promptly apparated with a half eaten piece of toast in her hand, in an act of boldness.
ooo
The familiar building stood ominously in what was usually a busy street during the working week. Hermione walked up to the entrance and immediately realised she had a problem. The doors would not open, and she didn't have a pass to enter the muggle building. Her watch read 11:30. Realising that Malfoy had probably forgotten to mention this key bit of information; she stood, shut out from her destination on the deserted street, knowing that a simple alohamora was of no use.
"Shit," she muttered. "Now what?" she asked herself out loud. She walked over to the security sensor that an ordinary muggle would swipe their pass over and looked at it blankly. The little red light taunted her. She pressed it, as if to acknowledge her discontent at muggle security measures. The little light switched to green, and to her surprise the doors opened. Hermione shook her head, smiling, as she walked through the familiar foyer, took the lift up to level 10A and walked through the imposing glass doors, which were thankfully unlocked. The reception desk was empty, adding to the ghostly atmosphere of the place as she turned in the direction of Malfoy's office.
His office door was open, yet if felt strange to walk through it, knowing what had transpired on her previous visit to the offices of Draco Malfoy. She hesitantly stepped in, knocking on the door to draw his attention to her presence. He was seated on the couch, leaning over a pile of paperwork which rested on the rustic coffee table. He looked up at her, smiling. She felt strangely nervous at his relaxed demeanour and couldn't remember if she had ever seen him in jeans.
"Hi, sorry I'm not on time, did we miss the portkey?" she asked apologetically.
He shook his head. "I realised after I spoke to you that I didn't explain how to get in after hours. I was going to come down and let you in but looks like you worked it out…as expected. The portkey is scheduled for 11:45."
"Well, I got lucky," she shrugged. She felt his gaze on her as she walked over to the couches.
"You really did pack light eh?" he commented as she sat down on the arm rest, resting her bag in her lap.
"It's charmed," she offered. "Magic does have its benefits." She couldn't help herself. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow humourously, as he stood up and walked over to her. It was strange to be in his company where there was no work agenda guiding it along.
"Ready to go?" he asked, holding out his hand. Hermione looked down at it; she had never noticed that he wore a ring on his right ring finger. She gingerly placed her hand in his, a warm feeling overcoming her as she felt the distinct pull of an activated portkey.
ooo
Hermione found herself standing next to Malfoy, her hand still in his, in the inner courtyard of a sandstone palazzo. She didn't realise she was squeezing his hand as he took in her surroundings, her breath caught. Malfoy looked over at her, his expression inscrutable.
"Do you want to see the estate or head inside first?" he asked. Coming to her senses Hermione turned to Malfoy.
"I don't mind," she replied timidly. She only realised her hand was in his, when she found herself being led through the stone archway, which was covered with the vines of a budding bougainvillea plant, into the midday sun of a vast property.
"Wow," was all she could manage, her mind drifting off into a romantic reverie as she gaped incredulous at the acres of wine yard and the immediate gardens.
"It's no wonder Blaise spends a good deal of time here," the man standing next to her said. She shifted her attention; realising Malfoy was looking at her. Her cheeks flushed, and she let go of his hand as her awareness returned.
"The ring, it was the portkey," he pointed, bringing it up to show her. "I never usually wear it."
"That's rather clever, a wearable portkey," she replied, gazing at what looked like a family crest, embossed into the gold ring which had three emerald stones set at the points forming the 'M'.
"I thought so," he added, looking straight ahead once more. "Well, we should probably make our arrival known." Hermione followed him silently, too absorbed in her new surroundings to speak.
She could hear voices as they turned a corner of the historic mansion and an outdoor courtyard with an al fresco dining set up came into view, housing several people at the table. Draco led her up the steps toward the group. Hermione finally recognised Blaise sitting at the table, Padma next to him. Blaise looked up first as they approached; his eyes fell on her and she was certain she caught an almost knowing smirk before he smiled and averted his gaze on Malfoy.
"Draco!" he called out, standing up as they arrived at the table. Hermione felt the scrutiny of the other guests on her.
"Hi Hermione," he came over and kissed her on each cheek. "Glad you could make it; Draco mentioned you were in Rome as the Minister's delegate at the international conference and I told him to invite you along." He smiled, that knowing look in his eye making another momentary appearance. Hermione looked at Draco questioningly, with a slight bewilderment, before answering. She felt like a deer in headlights as the other guests observed her.
"Good to see you Blaise. The place is amazing from what I've seen," he beamed at her compliment. Padma had stood up to greet Draco, before coming over.
"Hi, Hermione! I was so excited that another girl might be coming, these boys can get a little too much by the end of the weekend," she kissed her cheek.
"Padma, darling, my attention is always on you," Blaise cut in, kissing Padma as she rolled her eyes at Hermione. "Take a seat." He gestured them toward two empty seats at end of the table. Hermione took the one next to Padma, and Draco was on the end.
"Everyone, this is Hermione Granger, and you all know Draco. We all went to school together. Hermione, meet Giorgio and Selena Vinesi, they are my neighbours, Marcus Finetti, a business partner and wine expert, and Sebastian Parker, a friend from London.
"Hello," Hermione greeted, as she sat down. Draco took his seat next to Hermione and reached for the wine. He poured himself a glass and set it down, grinning at her complacently, like he should be rewarded for remembering that she didn't want to drink. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling at him for his exaggerated emphasis. He reached for the water decanter and poured her a glass.
"So, you have been friends a long time then?" Selena Vinesi spoke up with a thick accent, regarding Hermione curiously. She was fashionably dressed in a cherry coloured jersey dress made of a fine wool that only served to enhance her flawless olive skin and bring out her dark eyes and chestnut hair. Her husband, Giorgio was older in years but carried himself with equal debonair, dressed in a loose linen shirt and slacks, his hair slicked back.
"Not exactly, we moved in different circles at school." Hermione gave a diplomatic response. She was not sure of the label she would give her relationship with Draco, or Blaise and Padma for that matter.
"The golden trio," Sebastian affirmed, looking at Hermione with heated interest. She galnced back; he had a sharp look about him, with his chiselled features, intelligent eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be about their age.
"Yes, of course, the Hermione Granger, now I remember. Harry Potter's friend, he's now a quidditch star, is he not?" Selena continued.
She nodded. "He's currently playing for the English team," Hermione offered, relieved to move away from the topic of how they all knew each other.
"Yes, the wife doesn't stop talking about him. They'll be playing Italy shortly. I have my tickets already reserved. I make a point to go to the games with her, but she seems to forget her husband is sitting next to her when she carries on about him. Imagine when I tell her I met his friend!" Marcus spoke out, his eyes twinkling with amusement at Hermione. She could not help but laugh with the others at his manner of speaking. He was a dashing, easy going man in his mid thirties, with dark cropped hair, a five o'clock shadow and warm eyes. His wife was very lucky, Hermione thought.
"Quidditch, it is such a bore, I haven't been to a game in years. I tell Giorgio to go with his friends," Selena added, patting her husband on the arm. He smiled over at her.
"Draco and I are definitely huge fans," Blaise said. "We're really involved with the English team this year."
"Ah, so the MC logo on their uniform is your company?" Giorgio asked Draco.
"Well, half a million galleons will earn you that right," Draco joked. They all laughed. Hermione turned to look at him, quietly surprised. He sent her a fleeting look in kind.
"So, Hermione, how did you all become re-acquainted after Hogwarts?" Sebastian asked. She wasn't safe after all.
"Well," she started, "The Ministry, through my department, is working with Mal- Draco's company, on a project at the moment; we pretty much became re-acquainted, as you put it, through that. I know Blaise through Draco, and also through my friend's wife who is good friends with Padma," she explained, feeling extremely strange at addressing Malfoy as Draco in the company of others. She had already decided that Sebastian was her least favourite person at the table, for his inquisitiveness.
"Seems like MC has their foot in everything," Sebastian reflected, smiling back at her, before looking over at Malfoy. Hermione immediately re-considered her dislike, for he had voiced an opinion she harboured, albeit a slightly more critical version. She heard Malfoy quietly scoff next to her.
"Sebastian writes for the Prophet," Blaise said, as if that explained his outlook. "Damn good writer though," he added.
The food appeared, in a buffet style, and they all dug into a delightful Italian cuisine. Hermione was overwhelmed by the number of dishes.
"Try the olive paste with the crustini," Draco leaned over, offering her the plate.
"Okay, Mr food critic," she joked and took one, scooping up the olive dip and placing the whole thing in her mouth. He raised an eyebrow of surprise before passing the plate on.
The lunch continued thus, with Malfoy constantly asking her to try different foods, focusing his attention on her with such intensity, it was unnervingly flattering, although he did maintain subtlety by showing his interest with his eyes only. He spoke like any other person who was introducing someone to unfamiliar cuisine.
"This prosciutto is the best I've had; you need to have a slice." She obliged, eating the whole slice challengingly in one bite. Water was required to mollify her tastebuds of the salty shock.
"Blaise grows these tomatoes on the property; they taste great with the basil and olive oil dressing."
"This homemade pumpkin ravioli is unbeatable. Family recipe. I'm still trying to coax it out of his mother."
His attention continued through to dessert.
"You have to try the zabaglione, and dip it like this with the almond biscotti."
Hermione was so full at the end of it, she wanted to lie on her back and fall into a slumber. She enjoyed the food, the company, and even realised she had quite a few interests in common with Padma. She also took a liking to Selena and Marcus. Hermione could not believe that the afternoon had passed so quickly when the lunch guests finally stood up to leave.
"Blaise this was fantastic, as always. Next time, I am hosting. Selena is eager to entertain now that the weather is improving." Giorgio said. "Hermione, it was a pleasure to meet you," he kissed each cheek, "you must come to our place next time. Selena will owl you."
"Lovely to meet you, Giorgio, I would love to." Hermione replied. Giorgio was such a suave man; she couldn't help but fall for his charm.
"Hermione, you must come over, and bring Draco too, he seems to really love Italian food. Either that, or he is really into you," Selena said earnestly as she kissed her goodbye. Hermione laughed, trying to hide her shock at the observation. What could she say to that?
"I should go too, the wife is going to be back from her girls' weekend, she'll expect me ready and waiting for her with open arms," Marcus said, his dry humour bringing a smile to Hermione's face. "Padma, lovely to see you, Blaise, I'll be in touch tomorrow about that muggle contract."
"Draco, for half a million galleons, think you can get me a signed Potter photo?" he asked Draco.
"I'm sure Hermione can get you one for free," he replied as they shook hands.
"Touché," he responded as he turned to Hermione. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure we'll see more of each other." He kissed her goodbye.
The sound of apparition of the departing guests surrounded them.
"Seb, are you going to hang around for a few more drinks?" Blaise asked.
"Sure, why not, I don't have a wife to go home to." Hermione felt his gaze on her as he responded.
"Nice, I think we should move to the gardens then, might throw a quaffle around too. What do you think Daco?"
"Works for me," he shrugged walking over to Hermione. "Do you want to put your bag inside first?" he asked her. He was being awefully considerate she was speechless.
"Of course, Hermione," Blaise interjected. "Padma, do you want to show Hermione to a room?"
"It's okay, I'll show her, I'll grab the broom sticks anyway," Draco replied definitively and led Hermione into the magnificent house.
ooo
Hermione was too busy absorbing the elegance of the spacious guest room that overlooked the courtyard they had apparated into, that she didn't notice Draco come up behind her until his lips were on her neck. It startled her that he wanted to do anything in the middle of the day, in Blaise's house, with other people downstairs who happened to be waiting for them to return.
"I don't think it's a good idea," she faltered as he brushed her hair aside and he kissed down her neck. "Draco!" She pulled away and turned to face him. It was the worst move she could make as he caught her lips in a kiss, backing her up until she felt the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.
His lips were fierce, the sweet taste of their dessert still lingering on his tongue as he flicked it into her mouth. She felt herself submitting to his ministrations, as he pushed her back onto the bed and climbed over her.
"I've been wanting to do this all day," he said, the lust in his voice apparent. He was hovering over her, his eyes taking her in as she looked up at him.
"I think that's the wine talking," she smiled, relieved that she hadn't drunk anything. He guffawed at her remark and brought his face closer to her.
"Wrong Granger, it's what's underneath this lovely little top you're wearing, and these enticing jeans, and especially those red shoes." He stated frankly, reaching down to her feet and pulling one off, thenn the other.
"Malfoy, I can't do this!" she re-affirmed, a little too playfulling and thoroughly unconvincing.
"I'll help," his lips came down to hers once more, silencing her protests, as his hand travel down over her breasts, across her stomach and to her waist. Hermione, feeling that wanton sensation, admitted defeat and returned his kisses with equal fervour.
"We have to be quick," Hermione breathed between kisses.
"I can do quick," she felt the smile form on his lips as he moved to her neck and licked the spot behind her ear that sent her into a fit of giggles as she relished the ticklish sensation.
"Stop that!" she breathed through laughs, as she pushed him off her and sat up, removing her top. He smirked and followed suit. She knelt up on the bed and undid his jeans pulling them down to expose his boxers. He did the same to her as she sprawled back on the bed, lifting her hips so he can pull them all the way down. They were now both in their undergarments.
He kissed a trail all the way down her body to the waistband of her panties, and he tugged at them slightly with his mouth. She knew he was teasing her since she was worried about the time. In retaliation, she rolled them over so she was on top, sitting across his lower abdomen, legs on either side.
"Malfoy, I am not going to do this if you keep mocking me," she said sharply, her heart beating fast at her brazen actions. He lifted his hands up in defeat.
"Okay, Granger, I'll let you take the lead," he smirked. Hermione tilted her head to the side in mock consideration.
"I thought you were worried about taking too long?" he reminded, grinning up at her. The whole scenario was unimaginable; Hermione had not even considered such an outcome as her face straightened in thought. She looked back at the man she had once disliked for everything he stood for, and yet, he now roused an entirely different feeling within her. She felt desirable.
His grin faded as he returned her gaze, solemn, contemplative. He propped himself up on his elbows.
"Granger, I have never known anyone to sink into deep thought when sex is on the table," he said with such sincerity, Hermione, ordinarily would have felt the need to combat his statement, especially with that sly grin forming. She could see his eyes twinkle in anticipation at his statement, but gave it no heed, instead moving off him, and lying on her back next to him, staring up the stucco on the ceiling. Malfoy turned to his side, his fingers feathering her arm. She closed her eyes, reacting to his light touch, and sighed.
"I can't do this now, Malfoy." She sat up, her back to him. She heard him shift behind her, as he stood up off the bed and began re-dressing in silence. She watched him.
Hermione didn't know what made her reject his advances, but something was amiss. She could not see his irritation but the tell tale sign of his petulance was in his stance. He looked at her once, an element of resignation apparent in his eyes, before walking out.
A/N: It's not over yet! :p
