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 35 Sunny Days and Unabashedly Sexy Men
WHAT? Chapter 35 already? I know, right? You didn't have to wait for four months! It's a miracle! To phnxgirl, all my love and kudos for your more-than-usual grammar ass-kickery. I'm a bit dash-happy these days, if you can't tell. And to shealone, thank you so much for sitting down over the last couple weeks and re-reading and reviewing each chapter of ARL. It has been heart-warming and hilarious to see your responses to my attempts at humor. I mean, I laugh at my own jokes all the time, but it's awesome to see someone else thinks I'm funny, too.
Ah, and for those of you that are in varying states of shock or outrage over my treatment of Ron in the last chapter, or my handling of the situation in general: do you think so little of me that I don't know exactly what I'm doing with the bungled inappropriateness of that scene? Come on, have a little faith. This is a major plot point. There isn't a point or scene or character in this story that isn't there for a reason. So, with that said, have at it, y'all. acro
/…../
Hermione moaned appreciatively as the warm spring sunshine coated her bare arms. Sue Fraser, who sat beside her, murmured, "Oh my, that feels fantastic. Vitamin D, how I've missed you!"
This made Hermione giggle. It really was fantastic to be sitting on the blanket here in the park. She and Sue could see Draco and the fairy girls chasing the puppies on the green in front of them. Ginny and baby Jamie were laying on the blanket next to them, babbling nonsense to each other and laughing like only an adult and very young baby will.
It was May first, and all was right with the world.
Hermione reached across the blanket and laid her hand on Ginny's, which was wrapped around Jamie's foot. Ginny looked up at her friend.
"It's a good day," Hermione said quietly.
Ginny smiled. "It is a good day. We miss him; Lord knows how much I miss him. But this," Ginny waved at the park and people around them in general, "is what we were trying to save, what he died to preserve. And I've got my bay-bay butterball," she sang as she rolled Jamie onto his back and tickled his round tummy.
Hermione laughed and nodded, and Sue looked over. "I couldn't help but overhear. Are you talking about Harry? Was it a year ago that he passed? Today?"
Hermione and Ginny nodded.
Sue hummed. Then she smiled. "It's good that he's got the two of you to remember him so well. With this beautiful weather we've finally got, he must be smiling down on you and that fat baby of his you've got there." Sue's mobile next to her beeped, and she said, "That must be Shaun. He wanted me to meet him at the car to carry up the lunch, since he's got the dog with him. I'll be right back – try to keep my girls from murdering your fiancé?"
Hermione nodded, and Sue dashed off towards the parking area.
When she was out of earshot, Ginny pulled a newspaper clipping from her diaper bag and handed it to Hermione. "Thought you could use a bit of light reading."
Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes when she saw the byline. "Oh, this should be a tragic mess. How bad is it?"
Ginny shrugged. "As bad as you imagine. This is Rita Skeeter we're talking about."
Hermione snorted, and bent her head to read.
Heroes of the War, One Year Later: Where Are They Now?
By Rita Skeeter
It's been one year since the dramatic denouement and final death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, at the hands of our late and beloved Harry James Potter, who heroically sacrificed himself in the hopes of a better tomorrow for the wizarding community of Britain. Celebrations have broken out across our community in the last few days leading up to this first anniversary of the infamous Battle of Hogwarts. To honor this day, your Daily Prophet has decided to highlight some of the more famous heroes, as our readers pose the question: where are they now?
Among the celebrated are Auror Ronald Weasley, and the majority of his siblings, including George and Fred, the owners of the delightfully creative and massively successful Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, located in Diagon Alley. The handsome (and single, for all you ladies!) and heroic Auror Weasley himself was last seen marching through Diagon Alley nearly a month ago, no doubt on his way to some far-flung location to capture some of the last remaining, highly dangerous Death Eaters. Reports trickle in from around the world of Auror Weasley's daring activities in Russia, Chile, Egypt, Japan, and, of course, Australia, where his former comrade and love interest Hermione Granger has taken residence (For more information about the history of their troubled romance, their unhappy split, and her immediate departure to that most far-flung continent, see page 4 for a whole page spread, including photos from their school and wartime days).
"What?!" Hermione gasped. "They did not! Ginny, where is page four?"
"Sorry," Ginny said with a shrug. "Mum only sent me this page."
"Bugger," Hermione groaned. "Why did I ever let that miserable cow out of her jar?"
"Keep reading, it only gets better," Ginny promised.
While it is unfortunate that Auror Weasley could not attend the first annual celebration, we are terribly grateful that he is still out there, fighting the good fight, just the way his late best friend Harry Potter would have done.
"It doesn't say anything about Ron being in hospital," Hermione murmured. "It doesn't mention how badly over-worked or completely mental he'd become at all."
"No," Ginny replied. "Kingsley was kind enough to suppress that information. Mum insisted, and I'm glad of it. Ron's a bastard for what he did, but he's our bastard, and he's been through enough. Mum will put him through the wringer after he's back to normal."
"I'd like a bit of that action, myself," Hermione muttered.
And where is Hermione Granger on this special day? Our very own Minister Shacklebolt is the last known member of our community to hear from the so-called brains of the Golden Trio that included herself, Auror Weasley and poor Harry Potter. It appears that Miss Granger is currently living as a recluse in self-imposed exile in the land down under. Minister Shacklebolt released sections of a personal letter to him very recently. In that letter, she assures him that she is 'doing as well as can be expected,' – assumedly given her broken heart over her split with Auror Weasley, who was voted this year's most Eligible Bachelor by the readers of this news publication. Minister Shacklebolt further revealed that Miss Granger has taken up attendance at a Muggle university, and wishes nothing more than to finish her education in peace. He also states that she has issued dire warnings to anyone that dares to travel to the Australian continent to seek out the Brightest Witch of Our Age, that they 'will mysteriously and most likely permanently disappear into the Australian outback'(for more information about Muggle-born Miss Granger's often ruthless and self-serving, if not heroic and clever, contributions to the Light during the war, please see page 29c).
"So he's gone and told people I'll hex anyone who tries to look for me into a desert wasteland, never to be seen again. Brilliant. This makes me sound like a complete nutter. Who came up with this plan?" Hermione complained.
Ginny shrugged. "Probably Kingsley and Percy. At least they imply that you still have your wand, and aren't afraid to use it."
"Could be worse," Hermione agreed. "But honestly, how callous of me to threaten to hex hapless fans to go walkabout."
Another Weasley who has only occasionally been seen since the end of the war is the youngest, Ginevra, or Ginny, as her family and friends call her.
"Oh, look, now it's your turn, I see," Hermione sniffed.
"Oh, read on," Ginny said cheerfully. "It's quite the tear-jerker."
Surely her grief over the loss of her true love, and the real hero of the war, Harry Potter, is the reason why this young girl hasn't been seen away from her family's home in Devon since before Christmas. Our readers wish her the best, and hope to see her smiling face once more, and of course they'd love to hear more about her tumultuous and tragic relationship with the Chosen One. Perhaps a biographical accounting of their time together would help her to ease her suffering. I know this reporter would simply adore the opportunity to pen another much-anticipated and immensely popular book for our dear readers!
"Over my rotting carcass," Ginny said.
"Amen," Hermione muttered. "Hasn't she ruined enough people's lives?"
"Apparently not. Keep reading," Ginny replied.
Attempts to reach young Miss Weasley have only gotten so far as the Weasley family matriarch, Molly Weasley née Prewett, who has vigorously – and sometimes violently – refused entrance onto the Weasley family property (for more news of the much-stressed looking Mrs. Weasley's latest reported purchases of more than two cases-worth of Firewhiskey in the past several months, with photos, see page 3b).
"What?!" Hermione cried. "She's implying that Molly's a violent drunk!"
"Oh yes," Ginny replied. "Mum's on quite the rampage now. I'd be very surprised if Rita Skeeter doesn't go the same way that bitch Bellatrix did."
"Hmmph," Hermione grunted. "Good riddance, I say."
Perhaps the most surprising war hero was underage Death Eater-turned-Order member, and heir to the enormous and economically powerful Malfoy estate (see page 2 for details on the transcripts and records of the Malfoy family's holdings, released to the Prophet by a trusted, but anonymous, close family friend), Draco Malfoy.
"Oh, you've got to be bloody kidding me!" Hermione shouted and shot to her feet.
His time as an Order member was rife with scuffles with his former rivals-turned-allies, but in the end he proved himself in the final battle when he reportedly fought in a terrifying death match for the life of his comrade, Miss Hermione Granger (for touching photos of him carrying her, unconscious and barely alive, away from the ruined castle, and transferring her to the arms of her then beau, Ronald Weasley, see page 6a).
"There's pictures of that?!" Hermione gasped.
"Oh yeah, Mum said they were blurry, but quite romantically portrayed. Not in a way that connects you and Draco, but for him nobly saving you and returning you to the love of your life."
"God, what a train wreck," Hermione said.
"But you can't look away, can you?" Ginny said. "Sit down and keep reading, Hermione."
Arrested and tried for his crimes against humanity committed before his godfather and mentor Master Snape spirited him away to the Order, young Lord Malfoy is said to be currently serving his five-year exile from the wizarding community of Britain in a family home in Paris, where he, like his Order comrade, Miss Granger, is supposedly attending university to further his education. Rumors of him in living in other far-flung regions, such as the Canadian Yukon, have abounded, but none have been substantiated.
"I don't know whether to be horrified or grateful," Hermione mused. "They don't have anything right, thank God, but where are they getting their information?"
"Don't know," Ginny said. "But that Yukon bit came from Kingsley. He mentioned something about Draco living with a village of Eskimos."
Hermione snorted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Stupid but effective. No one's going to want to go look for him in a place like that," Ginny pointed out.
The most famous, and unbelievably tragic, heroes of the war is the late Harry James Potter. Orphaned by You-Know-Who's hand when he was just a babe, our hero was raised by his – as rumors have told it, neglectful and often abusive – only living family members, a family of Muggles who formerly resided in Surrey, but are now in parts-unknown. Young Harry attended Hogwarts from his First to Sixth years, with his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger by his side, and ultimately was forced to leave the school after the murder of beloved Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The "Golden Trio" as some readers call the three friends, joined the Order of the Phoenix and spent the next two years working to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In the end, the darkest wizard of all time was able to deliver a killing curse to our hero at the exact same moment young Harry fired off his own killing curse that ended the greatest enemy our world has ever known. His quick reflexes saved our world, and for that, we raise our wands in his honor, and in remembrance.
"Wait," Hermione said. "It doesn't mention the horcruxes at all. This is a bunch of overused history and a complete bunch of bollocks about how he died."
"I don't think the Ministry wanted to give anyone any ideas. Idiots across the country would be out murdering and trying to make horcruxes so they can live forever."
'Oh. Right. True, that would be horrid," Hermione conceded. "But still, this whole article is propaganda and utter horse manure."
"Were you expecting something different?" Ginny asked sardonically. "This is Rita Skeeter we're talking about."
Votes have been pouring in from across the countryside to give a name to this national holiday. Recommendations from barmaid to legal aide to heads of government have come in, and some of the final favorites are listed at the bottom of page 1. Pick your favorite and place your vote today, and the winning name for our newest national holiday will be declared at the Ministry-hosted ball this evening to honor our heroes. Whether they be fallen or flung far and wide in the world, they will not be soon forgotten.
For details about on the as yet unauthorized biography this intrepid reporter will soon release about notorious-Death-Eater-turned-war-hero Severus Snape, please see page 3 to pre-order your copy today!
A listing of the results of last summer's trials, a further accounting of more of the Order of the Phoenix's war heroes, and the dates and times for battle re-enactment auditions can be found on page 15…
"Unauthorized biography of Severus Snape?" Hermione repeated with a gasp. "We don't need to worry about your mum committing murder. Severus will bloody kill her."
"Yeah, from what I hear through the grapevine, he's gone into hiding. Probably so he can plot to kill her in peace," Ginny said with a chuckle.
"She deserves it," Hermione muttered. "Well, I guess it's nice to know our cover isn't blown. Not by popular knowledge, anyway. I'm in Australia, Draco's an Eskimo, and you're holed up in Devon with your violent mum, and Ron's still off saving the world. Excellent," Hermione concluded with a roll of her eyes.
"It's a big mess," Ginny agreed. "But at least we're safe, and Jamie's safe. To me, that's all that matters right now."
Hermione folded up the article, and leaned over to hug her friend. "Happy Anniversary, Gin," she said.
Ginny laughed out loud. "Happy Anniversary, Hermione!" she said. Then she turned and shouted over to Draco, who was busy throwing a tennis ball for Artemis and Apollo. "Happy Anniversary, Draco!"
Draco's head popped up, and he scowled as he very obviously puzzled over the statement. Hermione caught his eye and called, "Happy Anniversary, darling!"
His mouth dropped down in a small O, then a small smile tugged up one side of his mouth. "Ladies," he drawled in his oh-so-Draco way, "many glad tidings on this most glorious day." He gave them a deep bow, which made the ladies on the blanket giggle like the little girls prancing around him.
A deep 'boof!' sounded close by, and a 'get back here, you great silly beast!' announced the arrival of Radagast the Brown, who streaked across the green with his owner racing behind him, trying desperately to catch the dog's loose leash.
Draco leapt back in shock, previous subject forgotten, and braced himself, shouting, "get back, you wretched excuse for a wizard!" just as six stone of brown fur and pink tongue launched itself at him.
Radagast adored Draco more than anyone in the world. And Draco suffered for it.
Hermione saw Shaun Fraser running hopelessly along far behind his enormous dog, who'd already pounced on Draco and was trying to bear him to the ground. The puppies yipped and bounced around Ellie and Rosie, who tried in vain to pull Radagast off their Uncle Draco, but in the end, Draco collapsed under the veritable dogpile of children, fairy wings, tails and fur. Shaun made it over to the pile just as Hermione did, and together they pulled and dragged child and canine away until Draco was revealed.
As Ellie and Rosie scampered away with Artemis and Apollo at their heels, Hermione leaned over and smiled at Draco, while simultaneously trying to hold Radagast away from his face.
"How's it going, oh popular one?" she asked.
Draco moaned and shielded his face. "Bad dog."
Shaun laughed and grabbed Radagast's leash. "Sorry about that, Drake. He never wants to lick anyone's face like he wants to go after yours. Must be your animal magnetism, eh?"
"Not funny, Shaun. It's fucking disgusting," Draco groaned.
"Oh, quit complaining and come on, you big baby," Hermione said, and reached down to grasp his arm. She tried to pull him up, but instead was dragged to the ground herself, and flipped onto her back. Ginny and Shaun burst into laughter as Draco pounced on top of her and started licking her face while she squealed and tried to wriggle away from him.
"Oi! There are children present!" Shaun cried as Rosie and Ellie ran back over, trailing Artemis and Apollo with them. The puppies, seeing their pseudo-parents playing on the ground, took the presented opportunity and joined in the fun. Hermione's shrieks doubled as the puppies' happy tongues descended to her face, and Draco held her arms down as he sat back on his haunches on top of her hips and howled with laughter.
/…../
"Are you all set?" Draco asked as he pulled on his black riding jacket. He held his black helmet in one hand and his overnight bag in the other hand. On the counter next to him lay her helmet and jacket, both brand new aside from the short excursions they'd made together to get Hermione comfortable with riding behind Draco. It was mid-May, and they were off for their first long motorbike trip up to the Cotswolds to help get Renny's property ready for the two weddings that would take place in the coming autumn.
Hermione was deeply excited to be returning to the place that was so fundamental to the beginning of their life together. She licked her lips in anticipation of having Draco back at that cozy inn, under the covers of that big, comfortable bed, with no more restraint or fears keeping them from exploring each other…mmm…thoroughly.
"What are you thinking of?" Draco asked with a knowing smirk.
Hermione realized that her eyes had glazed over slightly and her cheeks must have flushed. She decided to go the brazen route. Might as well not be alone in feeling all randy and wound up on the hours-long bike ride. She smiled wickedly.
"Well, I was just thinking that I was able to book the same room that we'd stayed in when we were up for young Renton and Lindy's wedding last October, and much more comfortable it will be this time with less…how shall I say it…inhibitions?" She licked her lips. "I can't wait," she finished.
Draco's mouth dropped open. Then he groaned. "Oh, you minx," he whispered. Then he grabbed her and pinned her to the nearest brick column. Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck as their lips met in a heated kiss which left them both panting in seconds.
Draco broke away, and trailed his fingers from the side of her face, where he'd been cupping her cheek, down her jawline to her neck, and then swooped down into the vee of her shirt to extract the gold locket he'd given her that most delicious weekend. They both pulled apart slightly so that they could simultaneously view the images inside the locket, once he slipped the clasp and pried in open.
"Good girl," he murmured as he noted Hermione's photo choices. "I'm number one."
Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco's smugness as he tapped on the first image of himself and the puppies. "Your ego would be infuriating if it wasn't so damned endearing. Maybe I just put your photo in the first frame because it fit best there," she remarked.
"No, it's first because you love me best," he shot back.
Hermione sighed. "I do," she agreed.
"That's my girl," Draco replied, and dropped the locket back between her breasts before leaning in to kiss her once more.
After they'd dropped their overnight bags into the rear of Renny's old Rover, Draco gave Hermione's safety gear one final check-over before they truly hit the open road.
"Now remember, if you get uncomfortable and need to shift around, do so slowly and carefully so you don't knock us off balance," Draco lectured. "Make sure all of your pockets are closed, and tuck back your hair really thoroughly so it won't drive us both mad. Keep your feet up on the pegs, keep at least one arm around my waist all the time, and if you need to stop, just tap my shoulder three times. Are you sure you won't wear gloves?" Draco fretted as he pulled and pried at Hermione's shoulders, waist, and wrists. He zipped up her jacket and snapped shut the top strap whilst Hermione obediently tucked every strand of wayward hair behind the padding of her helmet.
"Draco, stop fussing over me. We've been over all of this. You've been a very good teacher these past few weeks, and I can honestly say that I enjoy doing this with you. Riding on your motorbike isn't like riding on the back of a broom twenty meters in the air. I'm not going to freak out on you and make us crash," she insisted. "But I promise you, the minute my bottom goes numb, you will know, and we will stop."
Draco chuffed. "You mean every time your bottom goes numb, Little Girl. I have a feeling this is going to be a very, very long ride."
"Oh, come on! I bet I can make it with only one stop!" Hermione cried.
Draco estimated she'd need four stops. Once Hermione's bum started to lose feeling from the vibration of the tiny passenger seat for the first time, she would never really get it all the way back, so repeated stops were the solution.
It was during their second stop, when Hermione was still tugging her helmet off of her head that suddenly Draco gasped, and spat, "Oh, bugger! Put your helmet back on, Hermione. Shit! We've got to get out of here! Fuck!"
Hermione shook her straggling hair away from her face at Draco's tone, and saw his horrified gaze directed at the hill just beyond the petrol station parking area where they'd paused. Putting two-and-two together quickly, she hissed, "I know this place! Crap, are we bloody idiots, or what?" and jammed her helmet back on her head. She hopped back onto the rear seat of Draco's Yamaha and barely got her feet onto the pegs before they were speeding away. About ten kilometers later, they pulled to a stop again in a bank parking lot.
Draco jerked his helmet off of his head as soon as he turned the bike off, and leaned his head into his hands.
"What the fuck is wrong with us?" he groaned. "How could we have forgotten that place? I mean really, what are the chances?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. It's not like us to just dismiss such a bad feeling, especially when you said yourself you could feel the wards- oh, bugger! Oh, honestly, Hermione, how stupid!" She braced herself against Draco's shoulder and hopped off the bike, then irritably pulled her helmet off before she started pacing.
"It's the bloody wards, Draco. There's got to be some distance or time restrictions about them, but we must still be close enough to feel…whatever they make Muggles feel. Repulsion? Anxiousness to move on? Regardless, I forgot all about them by the time we got to the Cotswolds when we rode up together last year; but look at how far away we were from Blaise's family's villa in Italy, and we could still feel the effects of them!"
Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Don't I fucking know it? It's nearly making my skin crawl just sitting here, I want to leave so badly; but we need to talk about this. These are my family's wards. What if…Hermione, what if the wards sensed me? Not just as a random Muggle, but as, well, you know, the heir to the estate and all that." He scratched nervously at his collection of scars on his temple as his fiancée paced next to him.
Hermione drew up. "Could they? I mean, what do you know about your family's wards? How are they being maintained? With Lucius still alive but imprisoned, would the wards be doing something like reaching out to search for you, as his heir? Is anyone checking on the activity the wards detect?"
Draco held his hand up. "Love, technically, they can do all of that and more. You know how the blood wards work for our building. They're maintained with a steady draw of energy derived straight from the earth around it. As long as there is raw earth around the building to pull from, our wards won't need maintenance. The estate's wards draw energy from the property – and there's a lot of that to draw from – but they have had other sources as well. Who's checking on the activity – now that's what worries me." He shuddered. "The thing is, I haven't got a clue who Lucius may have given access to during the war. Our wards – er, the estate's wards – have been layered upon for centuries. It would take months for one person to sort through them for any slipped-in secret access. I didn't have that kind of time when I was under house-arrest with Mother, and then I was dropped out in Little Whinging so fast my head spun. Literally anyone could be in there, and anyone could know that I came this close to the estate. The question is, what do we do now?"
Hermione bit her lip hard, and shook her head as she stared at the ground. They were sitting ducks where they were. They were going to be vulnerable all weekend. The only place they'd be safe would be inside a wizarding home, or inside their own home. But that was no way to live, not for them anyway.
"We go to the inn," she said finally. "And for God's sake, we follow a different route home. We can't risk coming back along this road again, or any other road that nears the Malfoy estate. So, I say, the faster we get out of here, the better."
Draco nodded firmly in agreement, and then his eyes drooped for a second. Hermione's followed suit.
"Well, your bum all rested up there, Little Girl?" Draco asked with a cheeky grin as he reached out to grab her hip and pull her to him.
Hermione gave a happy little shudder as Draco's hand drifted across said bum to slap it lightly. "Feeling much improved, driver. Now, do hurry and get me to the inn. We've got an appointment to keep, and we are running late."
"Truer words were never spoken, love," Draco replied as he held out her helmet, which she dutifully put on. He estimated they'd probably need to make two more stops, which would put him dead-right at his original four-stop plan.
Neither of them ever remembered that they'd actually made five stops, or why.
/…./
Draco, young Renton, and Renny were out pacing the grounds that were surrounded by a copse of trees on Renny's family property whilst Hermione, Arabella, and Lindy took up a post on the inn's lawn. The girls were working together with gathered materials to coordinate caterers and menus, flowers and furnishing rentals, and rainy-day alternates for both weddings. Lindy had brought a scrapbook of brochures and photos from her own wedding the previous autumn, and combined with the results of Hermione's research, they had a mountain of information to sort through.
"Have you and Renny purchased your wedding clothes yet?" Lindy murmured to her future mother-in-law.
Hermione looked up as Arabella huffed and shook her head.
"It's not really necessary, is it? He's got a couple of serviceable suits, and I have a good gown that I can make do with," the older woman protested.
"It's not that horrible beige one you showed me the other morning?" Lindy asked incredulously.
Hermione shuddered. Arabella was a sweet woman, but a spender, she was not. Nor was she a fashionista. In her mind, if the clothes in her closet still fit, they were still acceptable.
Not so the case with the beige gown, apparently.
"For Heaven's sakes, Bella, that dress has to be thirty years out-of-date, and it smelled of mothballs! No, what you need is-"
Lindy went off, chattering about colors and lengths appropriate for a second wedding, and for a couple in their age group. Meanwhile, Hermione looked up from her musings over bunting for the chairs in the aisles – honestly, was all of this rubbish really necessary? – And noticed that the men had brought out a handsaw and a couple of axes. The trio of men planned to get rid of straggling and broken branches from the picturesque grouping of trees they'd been evaluating for the past hour. Young Renton brought up his ax and started splitting down some of the larger branches into more manageable sizes, and Renny set to work chopping down a tree that had died.
Hermione gasped as Draco shucked his long-sleeve shirt, then tugged up his undershirt to swipe at the bit of sweat on his face and neck, and then reached up and snagged the lowest branch of the tree he stood under, and easily pulled himself up. Like a monkey, he scaled his way up the boughs until he parked himself just above a branch that looked decidedly dodgy. He unlatched the handsaw he'd looped into his belt, and leaned over to rid the tree of the dying branch.
"Blimey!" Lindy breathed next to her, and Hermione looked over to see what had caught her friend's attention.
Sure enough, Lindy had clasped her hands together and was muttering, "Please, please, please, take it off, babe," as she stared blatantly at her husband.
Almost as if young Renton could hear his wife, he paused in his whacking and tugged his shirt over his head, then tossed it to the grass out of the way of flying wood chips. Lindy moaned and clapped her hands giddily, and Hermione snorted.
"Getting awfully excited over there, aren't you, Lindy?" Hermione asked as she jokingly fanned her friend with a caterers menu.
Lindy grabbed at the menu and started fanning herself, while grinning madly. "My husband's a handsome bloke, and I am not ashamed to ogle him. Kind of gets me in the mood to make a banana split," she said with a sly grin.
At Hermione's cocked eyebrow, Lindy continued as she gestured down at her lap, "You know, like, you drizzle some chocolate sauce and whipped cream-"
"Good God, Lindy! Haven't you ever heard of too much information?!" Hermione cried in horror, and grabbed the menu back so that she could slap her friend on the arm.
Their giggles rang in the air for a few moments as Lindy tried to bat away Hermione's attack, all the while shrieking, "Sorry, sorry!"
Soon they settled back down, and their mutual sighs were the only sounds that the girls made for the next few moments. Hermione was jerked out of her admittedly lusty thoughts about chocolate sauce when Lindy groaned loudly again.
"So yummy," Lindy moaned.
Arabella harrumphed at the younger girls. "Really, it can't be that big of a deal, can it, to watch your boys working, when you live with them already? Surely you've seen them – blimey…" Arabella broke off in awe as Renny joined the younger males in shucking off his shirt before he resumed chopping at the tree before him.
Hermione and Lindy giggled as Arabella's breath hitched at the sight of her fiance's figure. They had to admit, for an older bloke, Renny was quite fit.
"Something wrong there, Bella?" Lindy asked.
Arabella's moan of appreciation and awkward gesture towards her fiancé sent Hermione and Lindy into gales of laughter.
"Nice view, isn't it, Bella? Hermione quipped.
Bella nodded dumbly. "So nice," she replied quietly.
"You sure you want to wear some lumpy old dress to marry such a man as you have there, Bella?" Lindy prodded.
Arabella drew in a shuddering breath as Renny leaned the ax against his leg and reached up to rub at the back of his head, drawing focus to the lines of his defined back and arms.
"Such a man," Arabella repeated Lindy's words in a whisper, and bit her lip. Suddenly her eyes flew wide. "Oh! Goodness, you're absolutely right, dear! I have to look my best for him! Oh, I'm getting married! And he's so…" Arabella waved her hand again in a flapping gesture towards her fiancé.
Hermione perked up. "Dreamy?" she supplied.
"Fit?" Lindy offered.
Arabella's breath hitched for the second time. "S-sexy," she whispered.
Hermione and Lindy whooped in happiness and patted their older friend on the back. "There you go, love!" Lindy crowed. "Oh, I've got a catalog of dresses in my car that I've been dying to show you, and I'll be damned if I don't find a bottle of chocolate sauce for you, too!" The young woman cackled madly as she dashed off in the direction of the parking area.
Hermione squeezed Arabella's hand. "Ice cream toppings aside, you're going to make a lovely bride, Bella," Hermione promised with a smile. "I won't let Lindy try to push anything too ridiculous on you."
Arabella squeezed Hermione's hand in return. "Thank you, Hermione, dear. Oh, sometimes it seems like a dream, how things have changed in the world in the past year. We're so lucky! Look at me! I'm getting married! And to so fine a man," she said with a wistful smile.
Hermione grinned back at her friend. "Well, it's a good dream, if it is one. But really, you deserve a good man like Renny, and he's a lucky bloke to have you. You're a fine woman, Arabella Figg, and don't you forget it."
Arabella blushed prettily. "Oh, it's so nice of you to say that, dear. Thank you."
Hermione waved her off. "No thanks needed, Bella. You have a lot to offer Renny, and you make him very happy." She hugged her friend around her shoulders briefly, and returned to perusing her catalog of chairs and marquees, while surreptitiously sneaking glances at her own fiancé.
Arabella picked up her own order form to get back to her wedding plans, and quietly hummed to herself as she checked her list.
Hermione found herself humming along with Arabella before she consciously recognized the song. A moment later, Hermione remembered the song. She chuckled at the memories it invoked, and then started to sing quietly.
"Oh, come and stir my cauldron
And if you do it right
I'll boil you up some hot, strong love
To keep you warm tonight!"
The duo broke into laughter as they sang the old Celestina Warbeck song together. Hermione jumped up and did a little shimmy and dance as Bella clapped along and bopped her head to the beat.
Hermione plucked at Arabella's hands to encourage her to get up and dance with her. Arabella happily accepted, and the two laughed and sang as they danced in the afternoon sunlight.
/…../
"Shitshitshitshit…"Draco panted and hissed as his hands slipped against the door frame. He tried to hold it back, tried to make it last longer, but damn it if Hermione wasn't giving him the best blowjob of his fucking life.
"S-shit, oh fuck, right…oh f-fuck, yes!" Draco panted as his body shuddered with his release. He squeezed his eyes shut and slumped to the floor as he tried to catch his breath. Draco opened his eyes back up when he heard his fucking amazing fiancée giggling, to see her wiping her hands on a towel.
"All right there, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a smug grin.
Draco nodded weakly. "Best blowjob ever, girl." His head dropped back against the door with a thump.
"Ever?" Hermione asked archly.
Draco nodded again. "Best ever. God, you're a talented woman, love."
Hermione laughed out loud as she stood and held out a hand to her future husband. "Thanks, darling. Now let's get you into that shower and wash off all that chocolate sauce, shall we?"
/…../
Sunday afternoon, as Draco and Hermione sped along the motorway back towards Little Whinging, Draco felt the bike give a funny tug, almost like an enormous hook had tried to catch the back tire. He did some mental calculations, and figured Hermione must be nearly ready for a rest, so he figured he'd check the bike when they stopped. Twenty kilometers later they took a break, but by then Draco had forgotten all about the funny catch – the tug that had almost felt like they'd driven momentarily through a field of tar. It must not have been important though, because it managed to slip his mind entirely.
To Be Continued.