Chapter Nineteen
Draco wakened from his sleep with his eyes wide open and a sense of horror enveloping him. All the events of the previous evening rushed back into his head, a cold stream of anger, frustration and panic hitting him. His breathing slowed slightly as he looked around the small hotel room, taking in the Muggle features. Hermione was breathing quietly next to him, curled up like a cat, her back pressing against him.
Gently extricating himself from the covers, Draco wandered over to the window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. It felt bizarre to know that rain was streaming down only a centimetre away from his face, while he remained completely dry. His life was much like that at this precise moment in time, he reflected. He was safe in his insulated little bubble but the moment that he tried to step outside, the entire deluge would fall on him. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled as he saw Hermione.
Pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, he walked up to door and pressed his ear to it, unable to hear anyone outside. Tucking his wand into his pocket, he let himself out quietly, and began walking along the blandly decorated corridors, marking the number of steps he took and in which direction. A man nodded to him as they passed briefly.
Eventually Draco arrived in the hotel reception and nodded at the young receptionist, yawning behind the desk. Her eyes widened appreciatively.
''Are you ok there sir?''
''Er…fine. Actually, do you have a paper?'' Draco scratched the top of his head, feeling slightly embarrassed by the intensity with which she was staring at him.
''Of course. Is there one that you'd prefer?''
Draco's eyes widened, what the hell was he meant to say? He had no idea what the names of Muggle papers were. ''What have you got?''
''The Times, the Telegraph, the Daily Mail, the Guardian, the Independent and the Sun.'' A wide smile accompanied what Draco was sure was pretty much just a list of random gibberish.
''Er…the Sun? I suppose you have to be optimistic with this kind of weather.'' He laughed lamely, jumped slightly as the receptionist brayed with laughter and took the red-top newspaper that she offered him. ''Thanks.''
He bowed his head and made his way back into the maze of corridors, his head swimming. Was this how Hermione had felt when she had found out that she was a witch and had to enter into the wizarding world? Completely displaced and unsure of what she was meant to do, how she was meant to react to anything? Shaking his head, reminding himself that he was Draco Malfoy and therefore not subject to uncertainty, he walked swiftly back into the room.
Hermione was still asleep when he came in, this time wrapped tightly in the sheets, smiling slightly to herself as she dreamily rubbed her cheek against the pillow. He laughed softly and looked around, feeling the need for coffee. There was…was that a kettle? But why was it attached to the wall with a rope? He poked tentatively at a switch on it and watched as a light flickered on, and then, with a loud click, pinged straight back off. Hermione sat bolt upright as she heard the noise, and then smiled as she saw what Draco was doing, instantly recognising what the problem was.
''It won't work, we've got too much magic in the room for the electricity to work.''
''Electricity?''
''It's a kind of energy that Muggles have harnessed, and they use it to like, heat up things and stuff.''
''How dreary.'' Draco filled the kettle from a tap, and then pointed his wand at it, letting it boil quickly. ''Where's the coffee?''
''Small sachet in the basket.''
''Powdered coffee?''
''You aren't at Hogwarts anymore.'' Hermione giggled at the look of utter consternation on his face, and knelt up in the bed, wrapping herself in the sheet. Crawling towards him, she reached towards him, and he came and sat on the end of the bed. Sitting behind him, she wrapped her arms around his chest and kissed the side of his neck.
''We ought to go soon, I suppose.''
''Probably. Not for a bit though.'' Draco began stalling for time, entranced by the contrast between Hermione's smooth, warm skin, and the cotton of the sheets. ''I got a paper. Only a Muggle one.''
''Only a 'muggle' one. Talk about prejudice. Which one did you get?'' Hermione's eyes widened as he brought out the copy of the Sun. ''Why did you get that one?''
''What one was I meant to get? Wizards are normal, they have one newspaper! She just told me about a million names, and none of them sounded normal! What's wrong with this one?''
Hermione tugged the inky pages out of his hands and flicked them to the third page. ''I don't think this is the most accurate reporting of the news you could ever get.''
Draco looked back at her, and grinned. ''Clearly I've underestimated Muggles. They do have the right idea when it comes to newspapers.''
''What do you mean?'' Hermione looked at him, her eyes laughing and incredulous.
''Well, the Daily Prophet certainly doesn't have a girl in her knickers posing on page three.''
''Well, it's a great Muggle tradition.'' Hermione rolled her eyes sarcastically. ''You aren't going to get any information about the state of the country in this paper.''
She pulled the paper out of his hands, and threw it to the bedroom floor, and then kissed his neck again. ''We really should get going.''
''Not yet.'' Draco turned around, his eyes hazy with lust and love. ''Remember, it's an official rule. You aren't allowed to kiss me like that and then leave.''
''Are you trying to force me to do something I don't want to do Mr Malfoy?'' Hermione tipped her chin into the air defiantly and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
''No, I'm opening your mind to new possibilities.'' Draco laughed and pushed her back onto the bed, entangling the pair of them in the sheets even more. ''Stop wriggling, I can't get at you.''
But Hermione had already pushed him off her and was sitting on top of him, panting slightly. ''Pinned ya.''
''You think I'm complaining?'' Draco looked up at her, proud and defiant, and wondered why he had ever wanted to destroy what it was that made her vibrant.
''I don't feel you complaining…in fact…'' Hermione laughed as Draco's hands clamped around her small waist and pulled her closer, biting, licking, sucking and kissing. ''Stop that!''
Draco pulled back and looked at her in shock. ''You think I'm going to let you be in control two times in a row?''
And with that, Draco was pushed back against the pillows, his eyes widening in bliss as Hermione flowed over him like quicksilver, moving too fast and too well for there to be anything other than a constant feeling of bliss. Her tongue flickered over him, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling every texture, revelling in every little shudder that she managed to invoke in him. Finally, Draco could take no more and had to pull her closer to him, their bodies becoming one.
''We really enjoy that far too much. It's slowing us right down.'' Hermione gasped, as she lay back against his chest, her hair tossed out behind her. ''Honestly, desire will be the death of us.''
''It's because we're so good at it. We need to keep practising.'' Draco stroked her hair gently, twisting the curls.
''Romance, thy name is Draco Malfoy.'' Hermione pulled herself upright reluctantly and looked back at her lover. ''Come on, we need to go and buy a tent.''
''Do we have to?'' But Draco was already moving, yanking a t-shirt over his head, ruffling his hair. ''But a wizarding one, yes?''
''Well, I have no intention of sleeping in a Muggle one, so if you want to do that you'll be doing it on your own.'' Hermione zipped up her jeans and brushed her hair. ''Diagon Alley?''
''Come on.'' Draco held out her hand and felt the unmistakeable jolt that passed through him every time they touched. ''You're going to insist on us paying the bill, aren't you?''
''Of course I am!'' Without another word on the matter, Hermione dragged him down the stairs, and paid the bill, dealing effortlessly with the glares that the receptionist shot at her and with the lustful stares that Draco received.
Draco moved up behind her and kissed her neck. ''I'll get the tent.''
''Let's go then.'' Bowing their heads, they ran out into the rain, hand in hand. The receptionist turned back to her magazine. Some girls had all the luck, she thought.
AN: Hey everyone, hope you're all ok. Anyway, yes, this was a pretty much pointless chapter, and I have a passable excuse. After a week of writing essays on the way of passing laws in the UK, and whether the principle of misrepresentation is an instance of misguided paternalism (incidentally, I met all my deadlines, thanks guys), I needed something easy to get me back into this story, because I don't want to be writing something lacklustre for you guys. As far as I'm concerned, everyone has been so brilliant about writing responses that you deserve the best, so I didn't want to write important plot developments when I wasn't sure that it would be good lol. Anyway, about the newspaper thing, for those of you who don't live in the UK, the Sun is pretty much the worst newspaper that there is, not containing any information about the country, just gossip and slander (and yes, there really is a topless girl on pg3…ah, British culture). Finally, lovely reviewers for chapter 18 were: silverwolf90, iou, IloveCheeseyMoments, Dracogirl4evr, keske, The Accountant's Daughter, dracoshott28, Emerald27, Miss Audrey, malfoyie456, Chrystal Slara, Bubbes, bananna15, Dracrashed, HarryPGinnyW4eva, breezie, iluv2dance, pApAw, CalisOwnCaliGrown, and year1989rocks. Sorry for dribbling on for so long, this was an awfully long note! Love Petitesorciere xxx