The Uneventful Story
By: Snowflake Imp
Rated: NC-17
Chapter 12
Disclaimer: God, this little dance again. You cruel, heartless lawyering bastards. How dare you. Really. This is completely unnecessary. You should be paying ME for saying Harry Potter isn't mine. Think of the emotional damage that just did. Think about it.
He walked briskly through the Ministry hallway, immensely glad there weren't any blundering children loitering around for him to bump into. Explain to him one more time why, even after the War, he found himself once again the Potions Master at Hogwarts?
Severus Snape could have been a lot of things, especially after being exonerated and given one of the highest honors for his role as a double agent. He could have gotten a cushy job at the Ministry, pushing eager and naïve scientists into doing his bidding. He could have secluded himself into delicious hermityhood, dedicating the rest of his life to painstakingly accurate potions making. But instead, he found himself victim to not only the idiocy that was children, but also to the frigid dictatorship of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.
Sweet lord.
Thankfully, every now and again the combination of scheduling and special trips to Hogsmeade allowed Severus the sweet release of a classless day. Although he could have a day to himself and dedicated to brewing potions, he usually made the effort to drag himself to the Ministry to pick up some elusive, government issued ingredients and to visit his godson, Draco. And, as much as it pained him to admit, Hermione Granger.
His petty dislike for Potter and Weasley pretty much drove a wedge between them and whatever friendliness they could have created with each other – although truth be told, as the years went by, his animosity for the two had waned. But only by a little. And by a little, he meant miniscule. He really couldn't give a damned about the two.
Really.
The only redeemable one of the bunch was Hermione. Her decision to be an Alchemist rather than an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries made him see her in a fonder light. He'd like to think his superb teaching abilities in his area of expertise played an important role in her career choice. Whenever he visited, she always came to him with fresh new ideas and questions that were nowhere near the vicinity of, "Excuthe me, thir? Which way exactly ith the cauldron thuppothed to face again?" Her intellect was pure heaven amidst a sea of numbskullery.
And her ability to collect – no – amass such an eclectic and eccentric group of superb scientists was admirable. Although their enthusiasm and all-around cheerful nature disturbed him, he almost always never regretted visiting her labs, as the abundance of information was worth it.
Today, rather than visit Draco first this time, Severus found himself in front of the lab doors. He had heard of Hermione's success with the Berlin poison and wanted to see for himself how the final product of the counter-agent was coming along. He pushed open the doors.
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to him at once, wide with guilt and surprise. The minions froze at the unexpected appearance of a person. Hermione wasn't supposed to be due back for another hour. They stared at him.
Snape stared back.
Silence.
No one moved. A few held their beakers mid-air, frozen. Beakers filled with strange colored liquids bubbling. And goo. One had a crawfish scrambling around in it.
A couple of balloons helplessly floated towards the ceiling.
Reginald clutched his potted tulip, his knuckles white with nervousness. Amanda Cleese had her hands full of his knives, paused in a tableau akin to the stabbing scene in the movie "Psycho." Her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights.
Fire awkwardly exploded from Franco's desk, where he stiffened, thinking that if he tensed up, it would further remove him from being implicated as the guilty party.
A creature skittered by on the ground, looking much like a strange breed of mollusk crossed with a jellyfish crossed with a beagle. It made a scuttling noise.
Without moving any of his facial muscles, Snape slowly closed the doors and slowly backed away. He turned on his heels, slowly now, and began slowly, mechanically, marching down the hall to the lifts. Once he reached them, he finally allowed himself to blink and breathe out. He shook himself.
"Let us never speak or think of that again," he thought to himself, numb with perplexness. Entering the lift, he pressed with surprisingly steady hands the button for Level 5. Yes, the labs were at a level of strangeness before unknown to him – he should have stuck with his normal routine and visited Draco first. At least over there normalcy was a given.
"I swear to all that is holy if you don't back away from me right now I am going to light you on fire!" Draco declared, moving frantically backwards, stumbling over a bump in the carpeting.
"Don't be like that, I just want to – come back here – I just want us to acknowledge our friendship and pledge our everlasting companionship!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes feverish with intent and concentration. She walked briskly towards him, unaffected by his fright.
"And that involves touching?!" Draco's voice peaked a little, probably the closest thing to cracking as it ever would get.
Severus deadpanned. He turned around without a word. Then again, there was nothing wrong with brewing potions in the dampness of Hogwarts' bowels in isolation.
"Did you just see someone at the door?" Draco asked suddenly, momentarily distracted.
"No and don't change the subject," Hermione said as she continued to circling him around his desk.
"What has gotten INTO you Granger?"
More.
"Nothing! What's wrong Malfoy, disgusted?" She made a grab for his arm. He managed to dance out her reach, putting the desk between them.
"YES!"
Yes. More.
"Just be a man and shake my hand ceremoniously in the name of gestures!" Hermione snarled, launching herself and finally able to grab a hold of his broad shoulders from behind in a massive bear hug.
"Let. Me. Go," he gritted, attempting to shake her off, seeing as how she was literally hanging off him, her feet a good 16 centimeters off the ground. Hermione squeezed harder. Draco, grumbling, set about prying her fingers, then her arms, off him. Hermione felt his muscles tighten underneath her, no doubt straining to get away from her.
Prove to me I'm right.
"Not until you shake my hand!"
Granted, this wasn't really the ideal method Hermione had in mind to alleviating her worries, but when she first saw him this morning it kind of just came to her and she went with it.
She needed this.
She needed this…affirmation that Malfoy, under no circumstances, was even the slightest bit attracted to her. That it was all in her imagination – no, he did not follow her every moves with hot eyes; no, he certainly did not just lean in closer to speak to her and smell her hair; no, he absolutely would not prefer her company over…ANY other woman alive. And most definitely no, they did not, under ANY circumstances, have sex in a broom closet, of all places.
Turn me away.
When she had that….vision the other day, she had to admit she could have handled things more smoothly. Such as, not rushing out the room like a maniac, never to return. While she had no concrete idea as to why such a thing would enter her mind, she frantically chalked it up to her 28 year-old body finally catching up to her hormones.
"Perfectly natural," she had thought desperately to herself, "I mean, he's a pretty good looking bloke in the right light I suppose, and I have been spending most of my time with him. I bet….. had I been spending enough time with anyone, er, say Severus, I'd have those sort of dreams too!"
In the back of her mind this logic seemed sketchy at best, but she was a desperate woman and if a tattered, worn looking life preserver was thrown to her in the middle of a raging sea, she wasn't about to wait around for something more fashionable and pretty. She grabbed on and she grabbed on with vigor.
As for guessing on the nose that Malfoy had a villa in Venice, she figured, perhaps, maybe, most likely, that she had overheard him bragging about it one day in the many, many, MANY days that she had known him and it just stuck in her unconscious somehow.
The fact that he was acting perfectly normal – like she was something he scrapped off the bottom of his shoe but more annoying – helped her further reinforce her wild desire for normalcy. Because it was frightening to entertain the notion that he was attracted to her. No, it was even more frightening to even suggest that she was attracted to him. Of course, there were the obvious reasons – their long history together, what would people think, he was way more attractive that she was, their status. Many, many reasons.
But those weren't it, really. There was something else. Something….deep down inside her. So deep she couldn't even understand it herself. All she knew was, things had to stay the same.
They just had to.
Malfoy was finally able to wrench himself free of her, his hair slightly mussed, his breath coming out a bit short from exertion. Once he was able to catch his breath, he backed away from her, his body hunched and guarded. He pointed his slightly shaking finger at her in accusation. "I don't know what it is you ate, but you vomit it out and get back to normal!"
If Hermione didn't so desperately need his disgust, she would have laughed. Honestly, seeing him flustered was a thing of amusement. Instead, she merely single-mindedly stuck her stiff hand out at him and waved it around a bit, like she was shaking a delicious piece of bait to a fish.
Draco sputtered. "No! That's exactly what I'm NOT going to do! Merde, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm – "
"Draaco," a voice sing-songed, opening the door.
Hermione turned to see a gorgeous, leggy vixen, with luscious, midnight black hair. She squinted, certain she had seen her before in some sort of magazine. Must be that time for the rotation: Malfoy had the habit of keeping his dating scene lively by actively switching the types of girls he dated. First the rich debutante aristocratic girl, then a comely co-worker, then a beautiful celebrity/model.
As Draco went over to work his charms over to the woman, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Good, if he had enough energy to chase after such delicious tail, he obviously had no inclination of interest towards her.
Still, there was a slight tightening at the pit of her stomach when she saw them together. Indigestion, perhaps?
"So who's this, darling?" Renee nodded in Hermione direction.
Draco looked at her warily. "Just a co-worker."
The depressing way he said that set Hermione at ease. She smiled brightly. "How do you do, Hermione Granger! I think I've seen you in Witches Weekly once?"
Instantly Renee Prestin brightened. "Why yes! I model Belinda Max's line, how nice of you to notice! Actually, it was at my first catwalk run that I met Draco and we haven't been apart ever since."
"Really?" Hermione asked innocently. "How very wonderful for the both of you! Malfoy here is a real gem of a man, I hope things work of for the best. Oh, is that ring a gift from him? What lovely taste, you both simply look made for each other – "
Before they could further bond with each other, Malfoy literally picked Hermione up by the scruff of her neck and dragged her over to the corner of his office.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" he whispered fiercely.
"I'm just making nice!" she bit back. "You're always saying I'm too critical of the women you date, so what's wrong with being a little supportive?"
"You're going to give her the wrong impression, that's what's wrong. I don't need you to bolster up my image, thank you. All you're doing is making her think she has a hell's chance with being with me for an extended period of time, so just stop! Make yourself scarce!"
"Oh, my mistake, allow to rectify my horrid behavior by reiterating word-for-word what you just told me – " Hermione snapped.
Draco was about to slap his hand over her mouth when Renee called out, "Honey, I'm afraid I must run. I have to see Jolene to go over my makeup regiment, silly I know, but it must be done. It was so nice meeting you, Hermione, hope we can run into each other some more."
He shot Hermione a look, indicating in no way was their conversation over, then went over to escort Renee out of the Ministry. She released a deep breath. Okay, that was enough of that, she thought. Trust her, acting all….weird and nice to Malfoy wasn't a trip to the park for her either. Seeing him act this way was enough for her. Once he returned, he glared at her. Hermione shrugged, glad her face could return to the scowl she usually wore when around him.
"Oh look," she said unemotionally, holding her hands up. "Praise the lord, I am free. Who would have thought I was able to break free from that ghastly charm that was cast upon me, forcing me to act like you were actually worthy of my time. Again, I praise."
Draco looked at her dubiously. "A charm? You've got to be kidding me."
"Believe what you will, but let's put all that silliness behind us and try to look to our bright futures, shall we?" she asked flippantly and quickly slipped out of his office before he could respond.
It felt a bit strange to have the upper hand in their relationship; usually it was Draco making the snarky comments and making her all flustered and confused. Thankfully (or not), things quickly settled back to their normal dynamics before the day was even over. Once again, Draco was the collected one while it was Hermione who had to struggle to keep her cool.
"Stupid Malfoy," she grumbled, wishing for the clock to chime the day over. It wasn't even lunchtime and he already had a swing to his step. She had to admit she had a lame excuse for her behavior this morning, but to have Malfoy rub in how peculiar she was acting was still pretty embarrassing. Yes, she was trying to be a little bit more touchy, but she definitely did not bat her eyelashes at him, nor did she make smoochy faces. Now the whole office was snickering behind their hands.
A letter suddenly landed on her desk and she started smiling when she realized who was delivering it. "Hedwig!" she cooed, softly stroking the preening white owl. She quickly took out a bowl of treats for it to nibble on as she tore apart Harry's letter. Before she could read the contents, a lithe hand from above snatched it from her fingers. She looked up and glared.
"Do you mind not reading other people's mail?" she snapped, nudging Hedwig a little, hoping to egg the owl to unleash her sharp talons upon him. Hedwig shrugged her off in lieu of eating more treats. Stupid, fat fowl.
Ignoring her, Malfoy began reading the letter out loud, much to her ire: "Dear Herms – sweet Merlin does he really call you that – I hope you aren't working yourself to the bone like I know you usually do. Take a break once in a while and enjoy your youth. Speaking of youth, have you given any thoughts to your upcoming birthday party – smooth Potter, way to transition that like a true gentleman. I can't wait to see everybody together again, but if you can help it, try to keep that damned bastard Mal – that bleeding pillow-biter! – out of your guest list. In any case, I hope to hear from you soon, luv. Love, the man who just said love twice like some unimaginative schoolgirl. Oh, and PS, I like men."
"Malfoy…," Hermione warned, grabbing her letter back. "I could have done without your ridiculous commentary."
"But where would the excitement and wit be had I not injected some of it into an otherwise drab letter?" he asked with a smirk.
"It'd be still up your arse, most likely," she mumbled, taking out a fresh piece of parchment to write her reply. "Go away, I want to write back to him and I don't need you breathing over my shoulder."
Leaning over her head while sitting on her chair's armrest, he asked, "By the way, what are you doing for the ole two-nine?"
"I hardly think that matters to you, as you're not invited."
"I'm hurt, Granger, really. After all those years of personal invitations to the celebration of your birth and suddenly you deny me?"
"I believe for the past few years you've ungraciously crashed my parties, uninvited and unwanted. Considering last year's fiasco, I'm going to order armed guards to stand ground in front of the doors with a picture of you in their hands," she said with a scowl, throwing him a look.
Draco sniffed. "I had it on good authority that excellent liquor was to be served, otherwise I wouldn't have made the effort. My display of displeasure was just."
"First, once again, you were not invited. Second, invited or not, flipping over the tables in childish anger is not just. Third, I highly doubt an excitable Seamus Finnigan crying out, 'There's going to be booze tonight!' counts as good authority. "
"Please, the man's Irish."
"That is true," she conceded distractedly, lost in memory, before smacking him on the arm. "Stop that!"
"Okay okay," he cooed, his eyes alight with wicked amusement. "Since I know you're going to be predictable and planning to hold your party at the Burrow, once again, why don't I suggest a venue?"
"And where would that be? A topless bar?" she asked, baring her teeth.
"No, how filthy and pedestrian. I was going to say the Velvet Magnolia."
"I beg your pardon? The same Velvet Magnolia Hotel that houses some of the Wizarding World's finest? You must be joking," Hermione said with a look of disbelief.
"The very same. I happen to know that the ballroom on the lobby floor would be an excellent setting for the tearful farewell to your twenties. Go out with a bang and all that."
"You must frequent there a lot to know of their possible venues," she grumbled, jealous not for the first time in her life of his luxurious lifestyle.
"Own it, actually," he said casually. He took no effort in hiding his smugness when he saw her jaw drop.
"You own one of the oldest hotel institutions on this side of Europe?" she squeaked.
"Acquired it in a business takeover. Mostly skill, some of it luck. Right place, right time, that sort of thing. I won't even charge you the cover for renting the room. Think of it as an way of making up for that mess last year," he said loftily, then frowning at the look on her face. "Yes all right, and that incident the year before."
"I don't know," she said slowly, sizing him up. "It's awful generous of you…."
Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly. "It's really not a big thing."
Hermione looked him up and down, sizing him up. Finally, "My left foot it's not a big thing. What do you want?"
He smiled. Leave it to the most brilliant witch he has ever known to not let anything slip by her. "Well, there is one thing you could do for me, and it really doesn't even involve you at all."
"I knew it, out with it then."
"I would like to borrow a few of your alchemists to work on a pet project of mine. Just a little experiment, nothing much. I'd just rather it be done in the hands of the best rather than some two-rated scientist you find in those other labs."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Malfoy," she warned. "And what exactly is this pet project of yours? Nothing illegal, I hope. Of course, knowing you…."
"Nonsense Granger, what is this rubbish. I'd just like for them to work with me in developing a sort of charm pill. You know, instead of that tiring exercise of swishing that wand to make someone say, feel more cheerful, they could just take a pill," he explained.
"Those already exist, in case you didn't know. They're called anti-depressants," Hermione said dryly.
Malfoy waved her off. "Bad example. How about, a pill that could diminish a man's evil intent? Or curb a killer's bloodlust? Or makes it impossible to lie? Be awful handy to have that around in case you didn't have a Potions Master in your back cupboard."
She gave him a look. "I don't know, that seems pretty unethical, to change a person's demeanor…"
"Please," he scoffed. "Look at all the Charms out there – they change a person's demeanor like mad! I'm just thinking about bottling them into something portable, easy, and highly marketable."
"I think this issue is too big to barter over a birthday venue," Hermione decided. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll find my own place – "
"Look, if you just give me a handful of your people and develop the pills, I'd have to turn them over to the Board of Ethics in any case. If they deem it unethical, it's unethical and that's that. The decision really isn't going to be in our hands!" he interrupted, frustrated. "I know your people are dying to do something other than making that anti-agent, so why not send a few my way? Burn a bit of that anxiety, eh?"
After thinking about it long and hard, Hermione conceded. "Fine," she said tiredly, agreeing with his logic. "I have to warn you though, you may not get very far with them. Mostly likely they'll get stuck at the planning stage, going on forever deciding the flavor of the pill or some rot like that."
Draco laughed. "I'll be sure to keep them in line."
Hermione sighed. And here she was fooled for one second that he was capable of doing even one nice thing for her. Of course whatever he offered had a price attached to it. How typical.
But then, why did that bother her so much?
"Good, now get out of my office, I have important things to do that don't revolve around you," she said tiredly.
"When will it ever penetrate your bushy little head that everything revolves around me?"
"GET OUT."
"Of course…," he said, opening the door. The tinkling of a little bell on a trolley caught his attention. He turned to Hermione. "Ooh look Granger, the tea lady's here and it's Earl Gray Thursday. Fancy sharing a pot?"
She gritted her teeth. Damn, and she just told him to get out. What a waste of pride. "Fine," she bit out. "But with crumpets this time."
The party was finally winding down, after almost eight hours of festivities. Hermione had never seen such indulgences on an act she had no part in, other than getting manually popped out. She knew from the beginning that if anybody knew how to throw a party, her boys were the one to look for.
When she told them a few weeks back about Draco's so-called kind offer, they were at first, understandably, wary. After a few minutes of interrogation of, what exactly did he say and are you sure his eye didn't twitch like so when he said that because you do know that's a telling sign of his lying trickery, the two man-boys whooped with delight. If it was on Malfoy, their best mate would finally get the party she deserved.
Whether she liked it or not.
Even at Hogwarts Hermione insisted on low-key, very modest birthday celebrations, and even more so as she grew older. For some of them, the parties were, to put it lightly, depressingly simple. They weren't even allowed to sprinkle colorful confetti – she thought it was a waste of trees and a chore to have to clean them up afterwards. No matter how swift the broom nor how thorough the cleaning spell, there was always, always, one square of those little buggers left floating around to haunt you for the rest of your days. Or at least, according to her.
Now that they were given to opportunity of a lifetime, they weren't about to let it go by like all her other ones, with a simple homemade cake, reused candles, and a small gathering of loved ones either at her cramped flat or at the Burrow.
This was going to be epic.
Everybody she had ever known was at this party. Well, anybody she was fairly friendly to, anyhow. All of her classmates from Hogwarts, co-workers, mentors, Order members – they were all there at one point or another. Even Malfoy got into the spirit of things and invited a few affluent acquaintances to help liven up the party with their celebrity status.
By now though, most of the guests had left leaving only a few stragglers, mostly her closest friends and few too tipsy to Apperate home just yet.
"HAPPY BIIRSHDAAY!" Seamus crowed, slurring heavily as he slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder. She rolled her eyes.
"Thank you Seamus, that's the twentieth time you said that," she said with a good-natured sigh, trying to make sure he didn't fall face first onto the smooth marble floor.
"Alright there, Hermione?" a familiar smooth voice asked from behind her.
"Yeah, just fine," she said with a small grin, turning around slightly to look at Blaise. "I'm used to it."
When Blaise raised an elegant eyebrow, she further explained, while re-adjusting herself to better accommodate Seamus' weight. "I'm pretty much Seamus' designated…..everything whenever he gets like this. I think it's because I'm the only person who won't start drawing all over his face and private bits."
He laughed at this. "I think the sight of you drawing on him would be priceless."
Seamus managed to shake himself out of his drunken stupor long enough to jab a finger at Blaise's expensive jacket.
"Herrrrmione! Tell me again…why this…bloke is here? He's not (hic!) yuir friend!"
Blaise's eyes smoldered, his smile deepened, darkened. "That's right, we're not ….. friends."
Hermione's heart skipped at little and she quickly looked at him, but his face changed back to that of pleasant friendliness. Her cheeks burned. Did he mean what he just alluded to?
"Then what are ye?" his Irish accent growing stronger by the minute.
"Yes, Hermione, what exactly am I?" Blaise asked good-naturedly.
Panic time. "Er, Seamus, he was only joking about, look at him," she said nervously, her leg starting to cramp up from his weight. "What do you see?"
There, leave it up to rhetoric and self-assessment to put her out of the spotlight.
Suddenly Seamus grinned and laughed heartily. "Yeah, this boy's alright! Haha he's even dresshed like one o' us!" He drunkenly clapped Blaise on the shoulder. "Ye look so cute in yuir ickle red tie and yuir gold accented blazer buttons – like a miniature Gryff you is!"
He started laughing so hard he couldn't keep still, making it very hard for Hermione to support him. Desperate, she looked around the room. Where the hell was this man's partner in crime?!
"DEAN! A little help, if you don't mind!" she called out to the room in general. As if on cue, the tall, dark man appeared and lifted him easily off her.
"Sorry luv, had to see how long you'd last with him. The boys had a pool going," he said jokingly, hoisting his long-time friend up.
"Could you not?" she growled. "Oh, forget it, just…take him outside for air or something."
As the two men slowly made their way to the balcony, with of course, one of them warbling "Oh Danny Boy," Hermione let out a sigh and began massaging her sore shoulders.
"I'll have you know my choice in wardrobe really had nothing to do with old House colors," Blaise said, his face serious but his eyes twinkling.
"Really?" Hermione teased back. "Because I must say, I agree with Seamus when I see your distinctive choice of color combination."
He shrugged lazily. "I just thought they would looked good on me." Then he leaned closer, his breath hot and sweet from champagne. "Do they look good on me?" he whispered.
She began to stammer. She cursed her awkwardness. She pretty much had the dictionary memorized and yet she still couldn't for the life of her grasp the fundamentals of flirty banter.
"Because, I think…this…looks divine on you," he continued, his slender finger delicately tracing the large bauble around her neck.
That necklace was probably worth more than her life. Hermione wasn't an expert on assessing jewelry prices, but she was pretty sure it was around that area. It was gorgeous. It was luxurious. It was …shiny.
The chain was made from sparkling platinum, thick and smooth. At the center was teardrop yellow diamond the size of a gumball, at least five carats. Framing the large gem on each side were three teardrop shaped emerald-cut diamonds, clustered together and spreading out like a fan. It went well with her creamy skin and sparkled like mad.
It must have cost Blaise a fortune. And it probably didn't even dent his wallet, much less his savings. When she first laid eyes on it, her mind couldn't even process that this treasure was for her. And that she would get to wear it. For the rest of her life if she wanted to. It was too much of a gift from someone she only just now started to get to know. She felt guilty and really didn't want to accept it. What was she to give him in the future? A gift certificate? That wasn't fair.
But he insisted. She had weakly protested until he finally took things into his own hands and clasped the necklace around her slender neck. She touched it constantly throughout the party, still reeling from it. Hermione couldn't believe it when she began to doubt the sincerity of his gift. She had wondered, somewhat bitterly, how many other women did he give gifts like this to? Was it like a normal bloke getting a girl chocolates and flowers? Did he just randomly wave his hand and picked someone out of some jewelry store, or did this actually have meaning and significance to him too? Was this how all rich men gave gifts to just anyone?
Hermione had sighed, downing a whole flute of champagne to ease her thoughts. She was being ridiculous. Why couldn't she just be happy for once? Why did she always have to think the worst in people, to always second-guess everything?
Now, as Blaise awaited an answer from her, she had another issue at hand. Such as, what exactly was he insinuating when he gave her such a gift? She was interrupted – saved? – from having to answer with Draco coming up to them, with three flutes of champagne in hand.
"One more time Granger, before lights out, eh?" he said with a smirk, his gaze on Blaise. "You too mate, help me kill off these things."
Blaise returned the look. though his eyes were blazing. "Lightweight?" he asked teasingly, taking two of the glasses and handing one to Hermione. Draco and Blaise wordlessly clinked their glasses and downed the bubbly.
"Oh, I really shouldn't, I already had two glasses," Hermione stuttered, somewhat relieved to see Malfoy. Her face was burning and her whole innards felt hot and woozy. From the champagne perhaps?
"Only two? And on your birthday? You have to drink at least a few more," Draco insisted.
'No no, I better not," she said, handing her glass to Draco, who refused to take it back. She frowned and shoved it in front Blaise. He easily took it out of her hands and drank all of it for her. It might have been her imagination, but did he seem….a bit gloating when he handed the empty flute back to Malfoy?
Draco's eyes stormed as he grabbed the glass.
"I'll go get you another one," he muttered, turning around to get more glasses.
"No, Malfoy, I've had enough," she called to his unresponsive back. Stubborn wanker. When he returned, he once again held out a full glass of champagne for her to drink. Just looking at that yellow, bubbly liquid made her feel dizzy and she swayed on her feet.
Suddenly, she felt a cool, solid body from behind steady her, a large hand warmly grasping her upper arm. She sighed, recognizing that scent anywhere. The scent of leather and fresh pine. His other hand lithely plucked the glass from Malfoy's hand and he too drank the champagne for her.
"Yeah, no Malfoy, she's done for tonight," his clear voice stated.
"Interesting Potter, didn't know her father came to the party tonight wearing your skin," Draco bit out.
Harry grimaced, his grip on Hermione tightening. "Shows how much you know about her. Getting Hermione drunk is definitely something you don't want to do."
"Or else what, Potter?" Blaise asked softly, his eyes hard.
"Oi, who wants to get Hermione drunk, say aye!" Harry called out, his eyes never leaving them.
Whoever was left in the room gave out vehement nays, a few backing away quickly. "Sweet Mother of Joseph in heaven, are ye mad, man!?" Seamus cried out before falling back into slumber.
At the overwhelming evidence that Hermione should not, under any circumstances, drink anymore, Harry smirked. "You wouldn't like her when she's drunk."
"I would say Draco doesn't rightly like her when she's sober either," Blaise said glibly as he began to walk away. Dealing with people was such a pain. "Why don't the two of you work out your differences and call me when things are less troublesome."
Thus leaving the three. Hermione bit back another sigh. These two would be the death of her. She couldn't quite understand their relationship. It went from hating each other at school to hating each other now, but somewhere in between….she could have sworn they got along. Didn't they? Damn, her mind was too fuzzy right now, she could barely hang on to what they were saying now.
"… –ere's your gift, Malfoy? Don't tell me you came empty-handed."
"Don't be silly Harry, it's Malfoy, he doesn't do gifts. Besides, this room was nice enough, don't you think?" Hermione said, turning to look at Harry.
His hand on her arm stayed firm, lightly pulling her towards his body.
"Actually, I did pick up a little something for you," Malfoy said casually. Hermione's eyes bulged. Will wonders never cease.
"What is it?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time. While they shared a rueful smile, Draco curled his lip in disdain.
"It's somewhere around here," he said distractedly as he looked around trying to find it. As he began to walk around, Hermione wrenched herself from Harry's grip to follow him. Her curiosity had to be satisfied. It was one of her little quirks.
"Hermione!" Harry called out.
She shot him a smile over her shoulder. "Don't worry Harry, I doubt he's going to hex me." She then looked thoughtfully at Malfoy. "You're not….right?"
He barked out a laugh. "No, not tonight Granger."
Once they reached a corner of the room with a window he stopped and opened it. He poked his head outside and made a whistle.
Nothing.
"….thank..you?" she ventured hesitantly.
"No, Granger, 'nothing' is not your gift, okay, just have a little patience," he grumbled.
A gush of wind and a black…something swooped into the room and landed on Draco's muscular arm. Hermione's mouth hung open, speechless.
"I figured a witch without a familiar is a pretty sad sight and I know you'd never pick out another one out anytime soon so I did the honors," he said with a shrug, lightly stroking the bird's breast.
It was large, beautiful, midnight black raven. It squawked, turning to Hermione. With a graceful push, it lightly flew off of Draco's arms and onto hers. It was magnificent.
"T…Thank you, Malfoy," she managed to choke out. How in the world did he know?
Suddenly, Blaise's gift paled in comparison. A present of jewelry became cold and impersonal. She had been in need of a new familiar, but it was true, she couldn't get past looking for a new one without thinking of her Crookshanks. She wondered how much thought Malfoy put into this gift. There must have been some. Otherwise why else would he go out of his way to go to a shelter and pick out something other than a cat? He must have known she would never accept another cat besides her dearly departed. He must have known that ravens were much like over-aged, grouchy, unwanted cats. And that she liked to save and love unwanted creatures. Ravens were loud, picky, unruly familiars with a sinister look to them – not the most fashionable creature to have around.
Hermione could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them out, owing her reaction to her grief over Crookshanks. The raven lightly nipped her hair and she smiled, petting it. "I think I'll name you Nyx," she cooed softly. Nyx crowed in approval. Hermione laughed.
She looked up at Malfoy, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. "Thank you," she said again, more firmly and sincerely. "This is…the best present I could ever hope for."
He merely looked at her, his face blank, his eyes calculating.
"DOES THE BIRTHDAY GIRL HAVE ANY LAST WORDS BEFORE WE ALL ATTEMPT TO FIND OUR WAY HOME?!" Fred's voice boomed from the center of the ballroom.
Hermione turned her head at the sudden noise. Nyx beat its wings and lightly pulled her hair before swooping out the window. Hermione knew that meant it would be waiting for her outside whenever she was ready.
"Er…" she said, always awkward with speeches. Everybody leaned it.
"Thank you all for coming," she began, uncertain what to say. "Thank you to everybody who made this memorable and forced me to be festive for once in my life. Get home safe and for those of you that had coats, they're all on the bed in my room upstairs for you to pick up. You can all thank Ron for getting me that suite for a night of luxury. Thank you again, and goodnight!"
Everyone clapped and cheered. Hermione quickly rushed to the doors to kiss everybody goodbye.
Draco still hadn't moved.
Hermione sighed with contentment. Truly, was there nothing better than this?
As she popped one of the many bubbles in her bubble bath, she couldn't think of anything else. The warm candle lights quivering in the large bathroom, the old-fashioned kidney bean shaped bathtub filled to the brim with honey-scented bath foam, and the light sheen of steam that kissed her exposed shoulders and neck. Her hair was in a sloppy bun piled atop her head, a few tendrils loose and wetly sticking her to neck. All of this ambiance seeped into her bones and turned her to jelly.
Maybe Ron was right, she should treat herself more often.
At the thought of Ron, she heard the door to her room open and shut with some rustling on the bed. That must be him getting his coat – he was the last one to leave after all.
"Ron?" she called out, her voice echoing in the bathroom.
No answer. More rustling.
"Darling, if you can't find your coat, it might be on the floor underneath the bed," she continued. "If not, I'll look for it later and give it to you tomorrow when we have brunch."
The rustling stopped.
Hermione listened for a little bit, not sure if he left yet. "Ron, did you leave yet?"
Still no answer. She shrugged. "If you're still here, do you mind bringing in the bathrobe you see on the chair? The door's not locked." When she didn't get a response she merely lifted one of her smooth legs up to lather with some of the foam. Oh well.
Abruptly the door to the bathroom opened behind her. Without turning around, she merely raised her leg higher and waggled it a bit. "Look, the foam changes color when it gets colder," she said playfully, blissfully unaware the man behind her wasn't Ron.
"Do you let just any man into your bathroom or am I just that special?" Draco asked coldly, his deep voice resonating throughout the bathroom.
She whipped her head around and yelped, quickly submerging her entire body save her head into the bath. Water splashed onto the tiles.
"Malfoy!" she screeched. "What the hell are you doing in here? GET OUT!"
"You seemed just fine with letting me in a moment ago," he countered, walking up to the end of her bathtub then turning to face her.
She glowered, her face turning an amazing shade of red. "If you didn't notice, I was saying the name Ron, not Perverted Ferret."
"So it's only the Weasel you let see you naked," he observed, his voice tight.
"No," she bit out, "it's a bubble bath, you can't see anything."
"Really," he breathed, the way he said it was like a challenge.
She quickly gathered the foam around her and sat in a fetal position. Better safe than sorry; she was pretty sure he couldn't see anything, but the fact that she was naked regardless was very unnerving. "Okay, ha ha ha, very funny, you saw lowly Granger in the tub, you can go now," she managed to say, her embarrassment preventing her from even talking properly. "Joke's over, Malfoy."
When he didn't say anything, she forced herself to look him in the face, ready to scream for him to get the flaming hell out of her bathroom. But the words died on her lips when she saw him. His eyes were glazed over, looking at her like she was some kind of….meal. The intensity of his gave caused her to curl up even tighter.
He sat down on the edge of the tub, leaning precariously into the water.
"He wouldn't dare….," she thought numbly.
Then, almost surreally, he slowly began to get into the tub with her. One leg at a time, unhurried. Unaware, uncaring that he was still fully dressed. Hermione looked at him in horror, too shocked to do anything, too naked to go anywhere. She could only look in morbid fascination as the water seeped into his pants, turning them dark and slick.
This was a nightmare, a drunken vision. It had to be.
There was no way Draco Malfoy was slowly entering the bathtub with her still in it.
But he was. His eyes never leaving her face. Once his upper body was also submerged in water, he began to leisurely lurch forward, his legs pushing off the back of the tub, his hands sliding down the edges of the tub. Hermione managed to snap out of it and tried to push herself as far away from him as possible, forgetting for a moment that she was already leaning up against the front of the tub.
In a final push, he swiftly leaned forward and captured her in his arms, his left winding around her back to grasp her left shoulder, his right hand gripping her right upper arm. Before she could kick him away, he managed to knock her legs apart and rest between them. As she struggled, she realized she couldn't fight him like this.
If anything, it looked like it was encouraging him. His eyes got wilder and his grip tightened the more she struggled.
"Malfoy – MALFOY! Stop it! What are you doing?!" she screamed, beating his back with her one fist; a futile gesture, she knew. Hermione was horrified to feel his hard chest press onto her soft breasts, flattening them, making it hard for her to breathe.
He moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, forcing her arch up into him as he began to slather her smooth column with his wet, hot tongue. Though she continued to struggle, every now and then she froze, the feelings on her neck indescribably good. He bit where the neck and shoulder connect, making her cry out.
How did he know her neck was so sensitive and it felt so good to touch it?
"Do you miss it?" he whispered fiercely in her ear as his other hand began to fondle one of her breasts. "Has anyone made you feel this way since then?"
Hermione could barely hear his mad ramblings over the roaring rush in her ears and the pounding in her heart. She moaned when he twisted and pinched her rosy nipple. She couldn't understand what he meant. Miss it? Since then? What did he mean?
She gripped his shoulder tightly as he licked and nibbled on her ear, forgetting she was supposed to be pushing him away. Hermione could feel a large rush to the apex between her legs, a tightening and tingling she had only dreamed about. Draco's mouth moved down to suckle her other breast, his talented tongue flicking and lavishing her other nipple. She could help but let another moan escape her lips.
What was he doing to her?
Why did it feel so wonderful?
Her eyes opened with panic as she felt one of his hands move down to lightly brush against her opening. She tried instinctively to close her legs but as he was between them, they only served to squeeze him all the more tighter.
"N-noo," she rasped, throwing her head back in ecstasy as he continued to suck on her nipple.
He release her pert breast and returned to her neck, kissing, licking biting; moving up and down and across, up to her jaw and down to her collarbone.
"I can't," he ground out almost painfully, his eyebrows furrowed with torture. He encased her even tighter, his knee rubbing a delicious friction upon her womanhood. "I can't stop…"
As he continued his mind-blowing administrations, Hermione eyes opened again. In front her eyes, however, played out images she would later swear she had never seen before. Memories she had never experienced before. Words she had never heard before.
"….so that's the way it has to be. Do you think you can handle it?"
"Relax Granger, it's not supposed to hurt. It's not going to hurt."
"Any word from the target yet?"
"You stay in here, do you understand me? I can't let you out. Not yet. Not now."
"Strip."
So many hands on her. Smooth hands. Rough hands. Caressing her, up and down her body. Gripping, slapping, pinching, rubbing. It was too much for her.
The room was dark, illuminated only by a small window. Outside was snowing hard, the sky gray and chilling. She should get off the floor soon. He would be coming back soon. As soon as she thought that, the door slammed open, light spilling into their tiny room. She looked at him with sad eyes. He was clean, but still filthy. He smelled freshly showered, no doubt he wanted to wash away the dirt and grime and blood as soon as possible. But she could still smell it on him. he looked weary, haggard, angry. He always looked like this afterwards. Lately more-so. He needed release. She could tell. He was already unbuttoning his wrinkled uniform shirt, his eyes burning holes into her. At least he wasn't yelling at her today. Not like last time. With shaking hands, she removed what little clothing she had on and climbed onto the large bed. He grabbed her and threw her onto her back, his hand gripping her so hard she knew there'd be bruises later. As he began to unbuckle his belt, as she just laid there, she looked into his eyes. He stopped what he was doing and looked back at her.
His eyes were so dark they were black.
Her hand closed into a tiny fist, but she forced the rest of her body to remain limp.
He needed this.
Outside, the snow stopped.
Hermione gasped, as if breathing in air after an eternity under water. Draco's eyes were purple with madness, crackling with lightning within them. Her eyes grew wide and she began her struggles anew. This time more frantic. More desperate.
He forced her to be still, searching her face. His own eyes widened as revelation dawned on him and he began to shake her.
"What do you remember?!" he cried out almost desperately. "What do you remember?!!"
When she didn't respond, couldn't respond, he gripped her even tighter, shook her even harder. Hermione panicked. What could she do? What was she supposed to say?
And then, her mouth moved, seemingly on its own. Words she never thought she spoke before bubbled from her throat. It was like being taken over by another entity. Like a latent memory taking hold of her. A Pavlovian response, done out of instinct. Without thought. Without reason.
"No you're killing me!" she cried, these alien words pouring out of her mouths. Alien, but familiar. Like she had said them before. Like this had happened before.
Miraculously, Draco froze. The water that was thrashing around them like a mad sea calmed instantly. The air around them cooled their exposed skin. They laid there, looking at each other, eyes wide and questioning. What were they doing? What had just happened? The slow drip of the sink across them faintly echoed through the room, the only noise besides their heavy breathing.
After staring at her intently for a few more moments, he blinked and his eyes returned to normal. No more mad, unreachable sheen. His normal, clear gray eyes shone back. He was human again. He was reasonable again.
Draco immediately dragged himself out of the bathtub; as soon as he removed himself, steam and vapor began hissing and rising out of his clothes. He was so shaken he couldn't control his wandless magic and his clothes began drying on their own.
Hermione could only sit there in her now foamless tub, shaking, too scared to make a sudden move. She watched the blonde-haired man pace back and forth and around, barely able to hear him mumbling to himself, his words getting more frantic as he continued.
"…shit shit fuck! Keep it together keep it together fuck shut up…"
She jumped when he slammed one fist into the tiled wall, cracking some of the ceramic platings. The other hand was fiercely pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally he took a deep breath and shook his shoulders. When he looked back at her, he was the Draco Malfoy she was used to, albeit more haggard. He walked up to her with clear, confident steps, kneeling next to her. Hermione tensed up, not sure what to expect next.
"Forget this ever happened," he said gruffly, with an underlying tone of barely contained anger. "Just forget it."
When she didn't respond, he slammed the edge of the bathtub out of frustration and for emphasis. She pushed herself back even more, crossing her arms even tighter across her chest.
"Nothing happened!" he yelled. Without waiting for her response, he turned and slammed the bathroom door behind him. A few seconds later, she heard the suite door closing in the same fashion.
Hermione continued to stare at the door.
What on earth just happened?
PS - Hi to all ffnet you readers! Glad to hear you're liking my silly little fic. For those of you that actually care, the site I always update first is on (http://hpadultfanfictionnet/storyphp?no544178678) , but I know some people aren't familiar with that site. I'm very nervous about because they have (or at least, they HAD) a habit of just deleting stories that don't meet their criteria without any warning, which is what I think they're going to do to this story soon (not yet though). Why? Oh, because things are going to get raunchy and dark and "adult" which obvious this site doesn't approve of. So yeah, just to let you all know, if you find this story missing a few chapters down, just head on over to the affnet site and it should be there in all of its...well, not glory, but you know what I mean. Cheers!
-SnowFlakeImp
OH MY GOD I FINALLY FINISHED!! Sorry for getting this out so late! My muse when missing and didn't return for a long time.
SO, what did you all think??? I won't talk much here – if you want to read more of my thoughts, please stop on my livejournal page (http://snowflakeimplivejournalcom)for my complete ramblings and such later on. Thank you all for staying with this story! Especially for the reviewers! You don't know how happy it makes me to get one, even more so when they're long and thoughtful and a lot of seem to never review that much at all, so YES, I am definitely honored!
Again, I hope the smutty scene was actually hot, since I feel pretty embarrassed and inexperienced in the world of sex scenes. Nevertheless, be prepared for more of that later on. A lot more, actually.
I am really excited to get this chapter out of the way because FINALLY all of my groundwork has ended. No more building up, leaving little crumbs, trying to convey a person's personality and quirks, showing not tell – we're done with that. If you can't get a good grasp of how I want my characters to be portrayed, well, FIRSTLY: DAMMIT, secondly: too bad, I'm too impatient to build up their characters any longer! I want this story to get rolling! It's like all this time we're on a roller coaster ride, slowly inching up that incline, wondering, waiting when the hell we're going to descend into fast, fun times. Starting next chapter, prepare for the PLUNGE. MUAHAHAHAHA
THANKS AGAIN for all your support and PLEASE let me know what you think/predict! I love hearing them.