Author's Note: I own no person, no place, no thing – except the plot! If you recognize it, it probably belongs to Ms. Rowling or some other awesome super-human.
Chapter 13 Road Trip
It was a two and a half hour drive up to the Cotswolds, where Renny's family had a cottage and a bit of rolling countryside to call their own. Hermione and Draco carried their overnight bags and her gig-bag down the stairs, packed everything they didn't immediately need into the boot, and, coffees in hand, sat in the front of her car, determinedly trying to figure out how to program the wedding venue's address into the navigation system of the car. But in the end, Hermione wasn't savvy enough, and Draco's mind was still on the events of last night when Hermione had so decisively and effectively wrapped her hands around him –
'Right. Mind out of the gutter, Malfoy,' he mentally chastised himself. He'd tried dragging her into the shower with him this morning, but she'd laughingly batted his hands away, saying she still had to get packed and that she'd be getting cleaned up at the Inn they were booked to stay at tonight.
"My hair might not be the chaos it was when I was younger, but it's still got very specific demands, and I can't risk angering it!" she'd cried as she'd struggled to keep away from the steam pouring out of the bath. Draco had been a little hurt, but she'd returned to him in seconds holding a steaming mug of English Breakfast and pointing out that he could always join her later, and his hurt evaporated under the onslaught of her sensibility.
"Maybe we could just follow Sue and Shaun?" Hermione wondered aloud as she fished her Blue-Blackberry out of her day-bag.
"Probably a good idea. Maybe we should have figured this thing out last night, eh?" Draco asked as he blandly pressed button after button on the console and touch screen, trying to get it to obey his will. He looked up as Hermione pushed a couple of flat plastic squares into his hand. CD's, she called them. Music. Not a bad idea, he supposed.
Ten minutes later they were cruising along behind Shaun and Sue's station wagon. Draco made to wave at the fairy girls in the backseat as they'd passed, but was surprised to see a large, brown creature with a gigantic pink tongue lolling out of its mouth instead.
"What the devil was THAT?" he asked Hermione in shock.
"Oh, the dog? That's Radagast the Brown." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Naturally."
"Gods, are you serious?"
"Completely. Guess what their Persian is named?"
"Do I want to know?"
"Yes, it's funny. Here's a clue: the cat has long gray fur."
"Oh you've got to be joking."
"Nope, they're hopeless." Hermione smiled as she flicked her turn signal and turned right. "I wouldn't mind getting a dog one day. We used to have one when I was little, but he died before I even started at Hogwarts. Have you ever had a pet?"
Draco was startled, he'd never even considered a familiar before, and the idea of a family pet was, in his mind, completely foreign. "No, never. I don't think my parents considered animals suitable companions – unless they were being used as slaves, of course. My mother had an owl, naturally, but it was loyal only to her."
"Hmm… I miss Crooks, but I guess you can't be around cats now, can you?" Hermione asked as wheels started to silently spin in her mind.
"Supposedly, but I haven't actually been around one, so I don't really know what would happen if I was. Do you want to get another cat?" he asked cautiously. Draco wouldn't deny Hermione a familiar, he remembered very clearly how she'd grieved when Crookshanks had died – burnt to death in an attack on one of their mobile tent camps. The tent that had been Hermione and Ginny's quarters had gone up quickly, and no one had been close enough to save the poor creature.
Hermione smiled sadly, and felt, even after more than a year, the deep pang of guilt and loss of her long-time friend. "No, Draco. I think my cat days are over." Then she glanced over at Draco, who was watching in fascination as Radagast leaned out the open window, barked at the other cars around them, and drooled all over the side of the Fraser's car. "But I think I'd like a dog." And with that, Hermione started to plan.
/…../
And so they drove along. Hermione intermittently sang and told stories, and Draco watched the landscape whizz by. Draco spent a few minutes poking absently at the buttons on the console, trying to acquiesce to Hermione's request to fast-forward to a different song when Hermione suggested Draco look at the Owner's Manual, which he located in a small cabinet in front of his knees. Hermione called it a glove compartment, but it only had her purchase papers and two small leather notebooks inside.
"Oh look Little Girl, your car came with free books. No wonder why you bought it."
"Draco, I'll have you know that all cars come with books. You're lucky, really, that I have positively no interest in the workings of a car, of there'd probably be half a dozen more in there for you to search through."
Draco selected the smaller notebook, adjusted his glasses, and read through the table of contents – which he swore to himself must be in Dutch or Russian – and finally settled on a chapter that promised to detail the wonders of Hermione's car's sound system. Draco rubbed at the increasing ache in his forehead as he read about speaker placement and bass and treble adjustment. He was just getting to a section about the six-disc compact disc player when he had to put the book down. He moaned as the building headache and vertigo washed over him.
"Hermione," he groaned, and covered his face with his hands.
Hermione broke off her singing to glance at her companion, who was looking decidedly gray.
"Oh! Draco, are you sick?"
"In my professional opinion, I think it would be best if you let me out of this car so I can throw up as soon as possible," he rasped.
Hermione looked at their surroundings, looked at her boyfriend, who was holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth with the Owner's Manual still sitting in his lap, realized what had happened to him, and made a quick phone call.
"Sue, we need to pull over for a moment. Draco's a bit carsick," she said, and within a moment the two cars pulled into a petrol station surrounded by rolling green meadows. Hermione turned off the car and turned to her miserable companion.
"Draco, can you still walk on your hands?" she asked.
"Ugh. Yeh. All right," Draco replied, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Once outside, Draco stripped off his jacket and glasses, took his mobile and wallet out of his pockets, and paced across the parking lot to the soft grass. There he kicked off his trainers and socks, tucked the front of his long-sleeved t-shirt into his jeans, stretched his arms up, then swooped back down to the ground, exchanging his balance from his feet to his hands, and walked away from Hermione's devil car.
"What's he doing?" Sue asked Hermione quietly. She'd gotten out from her own car to check on her friend while her husband leashed Radagast and took him for a quick walk to the bushes.
"Oh, he got carsick, reading." Hermione said, not taking her eyes off Draco's inverted form as he paced quickly up the hill beside the petrol station.
"That's understandable, but why is he upside-down?" Sue asked as Radagast barked and tugged on his leash, trying to encourage his Master to accompany him on a merry squirrel chase.
"Oh, well, in school all the fliers learned to walk on their hands as a way to fight motion sickness. The reverse in blood pressure and balance re-sets their bodies, and of course inversions are excellent for headaches. Harry used to walk on his hands all the time, he had such awful headaches, and he got carsick too. So I told Draco to do the same thing to see if it would help," Hermione said absently as she fought not to drool. Draco's shirt had come untucked from his jeans and his pale, lean torso was now exposed to her, admittedly, hungry eyes.
"Fliers? Was Draco a gymnast?" Sue said in a puzzled voice.
Hermione realized her error and flushed, stuttering, "Oh, yes. Draco and Harry were both… gymnasts. Um, it was quite popular at our school."
"Well he certainly has good balance, and my, he must be strong to be able to maintain THAT," Sue nudged Hermione as they watched Draco, now at the top of a rise, shift to just one hand so that he could rub his forehead.
"Yes, yes he is," Hermione said quietly. Her heart was pounding as she observed Draco. She wanted him. That much she was very, very certain of. But it had only been a week, surely they needed to… wait? Seeing him come undone in her hands last night though… Hermione shivered.
Draco rubbed his forehead as he looked around the green fields that stretched as far as he could see. It was strange, as his headache and nausea faded, he had this pervasive sense that he was running late for an appointment and really needed to HURRY and get back – and then his senses cleared. Draco sniffed. So, so familiar. Apples, grass, the heavy scent of wet hay fields, and… tea olives…
That sense of rushed lateness swept at him again, and suddenly Draco was in a panic. Oh no! He dropped back to his feet and looked around wildly, but could see nothing besides rolling hills, the petrol station, the two cars, and his lovely girlfriend standing next to them chatting with her friend. His Muggle girlfriend. He took off back down the hill towards the car, stopping only to snatch up his shoes and socks.
"Sorry all, time to go, yes?" Draco said as he stopped in front of the ladies to push his feet into his trainers.
"Feeling better, Draco? You know, Shaun gets sick too if he reads in the car. It can really spoil a trip," Sue said helpfully as she watched her husband load Radagast into their station wagon.
"Um, yes. Well, I won't be doing that again, I assure you. Now, we should head out, yes? A long drive still ahead, isn't it?" Draco said hopefully as he tugged on Hermione's arm to steer her towards the open driver's side door.
"All right, Draco?" Shaun called out.
"Yes, thanks for the stop, all set now!" Draco called back as he pushed Hermione into her seat. "Please, Hermione, we have to go now," Draco begged in a whisper when she tried to resist him.
"Draco what's wrong?" Hermione asked, but Draco took her face in his hands and kissed her roughly. He released her mouth and said, "please," once more. Then he shut her car door and ran around to his own door to climb in as Hermione started the car again.
"Draco, tell me what's wrong!" Hermione demanded as they followed the Frasers back onto the motorway. Draco was looking over his shoulder behind them, and then out the windshield, and even through the sunroof at the sky above.
"Hermione, where are we?" Draco asked quietly as he stared hard into the forest that had sprung up around them.
"Um, about fifteen minutes north of Salisbury, I think. Why?"
"And that's in Wiltshire, yeh?" Draco said as he glared out the sunroof again.
"Yes. Why – oh! Draco, what did you see?"
"I didn't SEE anything, Hermione. Muggles can't see it, but the wards stopped me at the top of the rise back there, and I could smell it. The apple orchard and my Mother's tea olives. Gods, who knows who could have seen us!" Draco was getting more agitated by the second.
"Draco, calm down. Even if anyone did see us, we're just Muggles now, remember? I doubt you set off the wards without a magical signature, even though you still are a Malfoy. And you and I look and dress so differently now than we did before… I'm sure that even if someone had been standing beyond the wards watching you, they wouldn't have recognized you."
It took several minutes of soothing conversation on Hermione's part to get Draco to settle back into his seat, but eventually the passage of time and the change of scenery around them enabled Draco to relax. They drove on through the morning light towards the rising hills of the Cotswolds, leaving Draco's anxiety behind them with the invisible eyes of Malfoy Manor.
/…../
The Inn that Hermione and Draco were staying at was also accommodating Hermione's band mates as well as several other out-of-town members of the wedding party. Draco pulled their overnight bags and Hermione's gig-bag out of the boot and gently closed the lid while Hermione retrieved their garment bags from the back seat. Hermione got them checked in as Draco stood out of the lawn with Shaun and the fairy girls, who begged him to walk on his hands again. As soon as Draco complied with their request, however, Radagast pounced, knocking him over.
"Oof! Watch out you great, four-legged, poor excuse for a wizard!" he exclaimed, and then laughed out loud along with Shaun as Ellie and Rosie tackled Draco, jumping on his legs and stomach as Radagast tried valiantly to lick his face.
Hermione walked out to the lawn to find her sexy as hell boyfriend spread-eagled in the grass beneath two four year olds and a brown, furry mountain.
"Stop drooling, Hermione. People might start to think you're in love with the boy," Sue stage-whispered next to her. Hermione jumped guiltily.
"Oh, Sue! You startled me!" she gasped, putting a hand over her speeding heart.
"So, one room, one bed, eh? I take it Draco's staying in your room?" Sue asked slyly as Hermione blushed red.
"Oh it's not like… like THAT, Sue. Not yet, anyway. I mean we're not… I mean yes we sleep together – um, but we're not SLEEPING together. Not yet, I mean. We're waiting – stop laughing Sue, it's not funny!" Hermione stuttered as her friend basked in Hermione's embarrassment.
/…../
Hermione had taken an honest-to-goodness two hour bath. Draco thought he'd have lost his mind with boredom if she hadn't conceded to let him into the spacious bathroom while she soaked in scented bubbles. In retrospect it was probably a terrible idea, because Hermione let him wash her back and scrub and rinse her hair. The sight of Hermione's sodden dark hair tangled over one shoulder while he stroked down her pale back felt like it might be permanently etched into his brain. Her delicate, palm-sized Phoenix tattoo that was perched between her shoulder blades seemed to shudder as Hermione shook under Draco's massaging hands.
Draco took note of his aching loins even as he took note of the time on the wall clock. Hermione needed to be downstairs in two hours – not nearly enough time to do all the things he desperately wanted to in that big bed fifteen paces away.
"Come on, Little Girl, I need to get changed and you need to get out and get ready. How about I go get us a bottle of wine?"
"All right," Hermione's response was a breathy whisper. Her eyes locked with his, and Draco swore she was begging him to join her in the bath, naked and hidden and warm under all those layers of bubbles…
"Huh-uh… Um. Hmm… Hermione, stop looking at me like that," Draco begged as he rubbed his hands through his hair in agitation. He was trying desperately not to think about last night, when her soft little hands had-
"What sounds good to you? White, dry and chilled or warm, red and sweet?" Draco asked.
Hermione cocked her head to the side, and her wet hair shifted back to give him a clear view of the curve of her breast. Draco spun around and grabbed the door handle. He needed. What?
He.
Needed.
Fuck!
"How about chilled, white, and bubbly?" Hermione suggested as he opened the door to escape her siren's call.
"Champagne?"
"Why not?"
"Any preference?" Draco asked. He heard her chuff of sarcasm.
"No Draco. It's safe to say I have no preference. Haven't really had the time to cultivate my wine snobbery yet."
Draco smirked and popped his head back in the bathroom door.
"Not to worry, my dear. I was bred for just such an occasion." He heard Hermione laugh before he grabbed the room key and headed down to talk to the Inn Keeper about their wine cellar.
Half an hour later Draco was one bottle of fifteen-year-old Brut and two flutes wealthier as he re-entered their suite. Hermione was seated at the vanity in the bedroom. She had on a fluffy white robe that covered her from ankle to chin, and she was methodically drying her hair section by section with an enormous round brush and a very noisy hand-held machine. It sounded rather like his vacuum cleaner, but it seemed to be blowing her hair around rather than sucking it up. She turned the machine off as soon as she saw his countenance in the vanity mirror.
"Success?" she asked.
Draco smirked and held up the bottle and two glasses. "Oh yes," he replied. "The triumphant hunter returns."
"My hero," she giggled, then squealed as he closed in and lifted her heavy hair off her neck, holding the cold bottle to her overheated skin.
"You look a little flushed, my dear," he said, grinning as she squirmed.
"Don't flatter yourself too much, Lord Malfoy. I've been sitting under that hair dryer for twenty minutes," she said, fanning her flushed face with her hands. Draco expertly popped the cork on the champagne and poured the glasses, handing her one. She toasted him silently in thanks and took a sip as she turned back to finish brushing out her hair.
Draco took the opportunity of her turned back to fish around in his pocket. Then he lifted her hair again to slip something around her neck.
Hermione looked down as she felt something cool and metal drop to rest just above her heart. It was a locket! A simply and beautifully crafted gold locket with her initials engraved across the front. Draco reached around to prize it gently from her fingers, and delicately popped the clasp. There were four frames inside, all empty, waiting to be filled.
"Hermione, I thought maybe you could carry your memories with you. Love and miss them properly, you know? That way you can share them, and you don't have to drown in secrets," he said quietly. Draco looked up to meet her eyes in the mirror. She had tears shining in her eyes, but she was smiling from ear to ear.
"Thank you, Draco," she whispered. Then she turned around on her stool and reached up to pull his face down to hers.
"I love it," she whispered against his mouth, then kissed him softly.
Draco knelt before her, slipping his hands under her robe and running his fingers up her silk clad knees as he deepened the kiss. His hands slid up on their own, and soon encountered the lace edge of her stockings and the clasps of her garters-
"Fucking Hell," he broke away from Hermione's mouth to look at what his fingertips had just discovered.
"Merlin, Little Girl, what are you trying to DO to me?" he groaned as he stroked at the borders of her stockings, where silk and lace met the softest of flesh. Her skin looked pale as milk compared to the nude shade of her stockings, offset by the pale pink of the garters.
"It wasn't entirely my idea, but my dress required it. Sue picked it out," Hermione whispered as she shifted back to stand up. Boldly she parted her robe and dropped the sash on the floor. Hermione felt empowered as she stood there, but she hadn't been able to resist the golden opportunity she'd been presented with. She had Draco Malfoy on his knees, literally and figuratively. She fingered the locket he'd given her, and felt scratching on the back side. She quickly flipped it over and looked.
'To the most beautiful Little Girl in the world. DAM.' She repeated the engraving, but instead of pronouncing each letter of his initials, she read it as a whole word.
Draco chuckled. "My thoughts exactly," he said. Hermione loomed over him in a simple, pale pink corset, matching knickers and garter set. To hell with the wedding, she wasn't going anywhere tonight.
"Hermione, I-" he gulped as he reached out to touch her, but was cut off by a knock at the suite door.
"Hermione?" Sue's voice could be heard out in the hallway. Draco's head snapped up, and Hermione cursed quietly.
"Sue offered to help me put my makeup on. I'm not very good at it," Hermione said wistfully as Draco stood, frowning slightly.
"I'm going to go hide in the bath and get ready, then. I'm not fit for company, and that damned four-legged wizard drooled on my head," Draco sighed, and picked up his garment bag from the bed. He disappeared into the bath as Hermione tied her robe shut, then walked over to let in her friend.
/…../
Draco could no longer remember the last time he'd taken a shower without having to masturbate before he was done. Now, freshly burdened with images of Hermione… He hissed as his orgasm swept through him, taking the edge off his lust so he could, hopefully, function for the rest of the evening.
Tonight though, when he and Hermione got back to their room… Well, suffice to say Draco knew he wouldn't regret making love to Hermione. As for her regrets, well, he'd simply have to behave so that she wouldn't regret it. Ever.
Draco was still looking for his cufflinks fifteen minutes later when he heard womanly giggling on the other side of the bathroom door. Well, he certainly felt more in control, he could use a refill on his champagne, and maybe Hermione knew where his cufflinks were.
"Hey, Love, have you seen my cufflinks?" he asked as he opened the bathroom door.
Hermione and Sue were interrupted by Draco's sudden appearance. His hair was still slightly wet, and he was buttoning the top buttons of his cream colored dress shirt. Draco had chosen to wear a fitted navy blue suit, and he carried his jacket over one arm.
'Good God in Heaven!' Hermione thought. Sue giggled at Hermione's unfocused gaze, and Draco looked up to see his Hermione, with makeup on, staring at him with her mouth half-open.
He grinned down at his girlfriend. "Like what you see?" Then he swooped down to kiss her on the cheek when she blushed adorably.
/…../
Pushing his glasses in place to peer at the key-fob, Draco pushed the button to re-lock the car doors. His missing cufflinks were, as Hermione had predicted, in the cup holder right where he'd deposited them earlier along with his wallet and mobile. He shrugged into his jacket as he walked back up the path to the Inn. Hermione had said she'd meet him down here, and Draco didn't honestly think it would be safe to go back up to the room, knowing Sue had gone and Hermione was wearing those… Well, Draco was seriously considering changing his favorite color from blue to light pink.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't 'Mione's little Playboy," a sneering voice said from a nearby bench.
To Be Continued.
Author's Note: I know the hand-walking thing is probably not biologically useful for motion sickness. But human's also don't fly on broomsticks. Just suspend your disbelief and enjoy the show, eh?
ajc