all characters belong to JKR

Chapter 9: Worry:

After breakfast with the Johnsons, Hermione and Draco walked away from the veranda, having woven a tale beyond all tales, and they were laughing and holding hands. Even though they were now out of sight, and earshot, of the older couple, they were still holding hands and laughing.

They walked out toward the beach, past the boardwalk, and Hermione pulled Draco to sit down on the sand next to her. Hermione said, "I can't believe you told them you were best friends with Harry!"

"That was perhaps the hardest lie I've ever told. I felt the words burning a hole right in my heart as I spoke. I literally felt my grandfather turn over in his grave," Draco said, still laughing. "I still have a slightly bad taste in my mouth, but even better than that was when you told them that you were the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team!"

She shrugged and said, "I have to admit, once in a while, its fun to lie."

"That's why I do it all the time."

Suddenly she stopped laughing. She said, "You do lie all the time, don't you."

"Only when I have to, and only when it counts," he joked. He turned and noticed that she had stopped laughing, and even worse, she was no longer looking at him. "What's wrong?"

"This is exactly why I was anxious earlier. This is the exact reason I was full of doubt, and worry. Is all of this a lie?" she asked. She sucked in a breath. It was. The kiss, the date, everything…was a lie. He was playing an elaborate joke, a folly, a farce, and he never pretended otherwise. She was such a fool. She felt hot and bothered, and not in a good way. She looked to the ground, and began to shake in anger and shame.

"Hermione?" he asked. He touched her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"No, I need to go back to my room," she said. She wanted to stand up, but couldn't move. He caught a glimpse of pure horror on her face, all the pieces began to fall into place, and he suddenly realized what was wrong with her.

He said, "You know that this isn't all a lie, don't you?"

"How would I know?" she asked. She looked up at him. "You're such a good liar, that perhaps you're lying now, and I would never know."

"I am possibly the best liar you've ever met, true," he bragged, but still he understood her sullenness and apprehension. "I lied to steal you away from your date this weekend. I lied to those people in the dining room last night, and in the line for the broom ride, and this morning at breakfast, but all of that was a game. You lied too, I might point out."

"Yes, but," she started.

"No buts. It's all just been a game." After he said it, he wasn't sure that sounded any better than saying that he lied.

She glared at him now and said, "So all of this was just a game to you? A challenge to be met? A joke, a game, a part to play? Was any of it real? Have you meant anything that you've said or done since last night?"

He stood up and brushed off his pants. "Don't insult both of us by assuming that, Hermione. Your asinine questions and accusations are unbecoming and plain rude. Of course it's not all been a game!"

She stood as well. "What about the blind date? What motivated you to work so hard to replace yourself as my date? You know it was because it was fun for you! You did it because it was a challenge! You did it to humiliate me!"

"How did I humiliate you?" he spat back.

She had no answer for that. She merely glared at him, her arms folded in front of her. He put his hands up in frustration and stated, "Fine, in the beginning, it was a bit of a challenge. It was kind of fun. I wanted to catch you in your lie about the wedding, but more than anything, I wanted to have fun this weekend, and I wanted to have it with you. I wanted to date you. I sincerely and truly wanted that more than anything else. My agenda was never clear cut."

Hermione shook her head and said, "But all that nonsense at breakfast…"

"Was committed by both of us!" he finished her sentence.

"You started the lies!"

"And you finished them! It was fun, it was a game, Hermione, but that doesn't mean lying defines me!"

"Can you go a day without lying?" she asked. The thing was, she didn't shout or raise her voice when she asked that question. She asked him quietly.

The answer was that he wasn't sure that he could. He probably never had. He told lies everyday of his life, in one form or another, and he defied her to stand there and say that she never lied.

"Everyone lies, Granger. Everyone tells falsehoods and fabrications. They exaggerate to make stories more interesting, they tell white lies to keep from hurting other people's feelings. Someone will ask you how you're doing, and even if you're having a rotten day, the answer will be, 'fine, how about you?' Your friend will ask you what you thought of that new jumper she bought and you'll say, 'it's a nice colour on you', even if it makes her look ugly! Everyone does it everyday and in every way! I'm just more up front about it. I admit it. Do you?"

"I don't lie everyday. I don't, Malfoy. I worry about telling the truth. If one of my friends ask me to come over, and I just plain don't want to, I don't make up an excuse. I'll tell them that I'm tired and just not in the mood. Someone asks me if I like their new haircut, and I don't, I'll say, 'all that matters is if you like it'. I try to spare people's feelings, but I don't lie," she finished.

"Maybe you're a better liar than me, or perhaps you're just that much more of a better person than I am, Granger," he spat.

"I'm not saying that," she tried to explain.

"Part of this was a game. Part of the fun was the lies and games, but that doesn't mean that is all it was," he explained, though he really couldn't explain.

"What was the kiss? Was the kiss a lie? Was the kiss part of the challenge? Was the kiss part of the pursuit, the game?" she asked. She stepped closer to him and looked up into his eyes.

"The kiss was real," he whispered.

"How do I know?" she asked. "You yourself said that you're one of the best liars around. How do I know you're telling the truth now?"

He took her hand. She tried to pull it away, but he used it to anchor himself to her. He pulled her closer. They stood on the beach and he didn't care who saw them. He placed his other hand on her neck. "This is real. You can't lie about this. I feel your pulse quicken just at my nearness. That's real." He took her hand he held captive and placed it on his neck.

"Feel my pulse," he pleaded. "I can't fake a rapid pulse. Look in my eyes. I'm sure my pupils are dilated just at your nearness."

"I don't know what to believe," she said.

He pressed his cheek next to hers. Then he said, "Come with me." He took her hand and led her from the beach, beyond the boardwalk, to a shop window. He turned her toward the plate glass, so that both of their reflections shown in the glass.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Oh, Malfoy," she said, starting to walk away. He took her by the shoulders, and forced her to stand in front of him.

"No, tell me," he said. They were both standing toward their reflections.

"There's a cute little purse in the corner of the display window," she said, pointing.

"Some people would think that your avoidance is a form of lying," he said arrogantly. "Are you trying to be obtuse?"

"Fine, what do you want me to see?" she asked, her reflection staring into the eyes of his.

He huffed in exasperation and said, "You're a smart, insightful woman. You're nobody's fool. Stop acting like one."

She frowned.

He continued, "I want you to tell me what you see in my eyes."

"What am I looking for, Malfoy?" she asked.

"You're looking to see if I'm lying right now. I want you to see that I'm being sincere."

He continued to stare into her deep brown eyes. He knew that he looked slightly angry, because that was how he was HONESTLY feeling at that moment. He felt backed into a corner. What was worse was that he felt that it was of his own making, and he felt slightly, ever so slightly bad about that, which also made him angry. The worst of all was that he felt remorse! What was that about? He felt remorse and guilt for lying, and now that he was trying to be truthful, she refused to believe him, and he actually understood her reluctance, which meant that he had to work ten times harder now to make her believe him when he was finally telling the truth!

Again he asked, "What do you see, my Granger?"

She didn't answer.

"Fine!" he practically shouted. He turned her to face him. "Don't answer, be stubborn and obstinate. But let me tell you what your answer should be. You should see a man who had one of the best nights of his life last night, without sex, or money being involved, or any of the other things that I usually equate with happiness."

Suddenly, she started to laugh.

That wasn't what he expected. He ignored her laughter, and said, "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

"Someone who is emotionally stunted?" she asked. Then she smiled again. He rolled his eyes and she said, "Fine, I know you're dying to tell me."

He turned her back around, pulled her up against his chest, and his hands went back to her shoulders. He whispered in her ear, "I see a woman who had an effing good time as well. Are you telling me that my eyes deceive me? Are you trying to take away my good memories of last night, or belittle my thin grasp on happiness by telling me, no, accusing me, of lying about these things? Are you, my Granger? Aren't you too smart to have someone pull something over on you anyway?"

She turned to look at him, and her look was undistinguishable. He cocked his head slightly to an angle and said, "Why do I feel like you're about to throw an apoplexy fit?"

She laughed again, which he didn't expect any more than he did the first time she laughed.

She stopped laughing and said, "While all of your sentiments are slightly sweet, but twisted and annoying, the truth, if you dare to believe me, is that I'm worried, Malfoy." To his surprise, she placed her head on his shoulder.

"What are you worried about, Granger?" He almost added a smart remark about how she couldn't be happy if she wasn't worried, but he decided to remain quiet.

"I'm worried about things," she said. She placed her arms around his waist. He decided if he kept things drawn out, she might press more parts of her body against his.

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't worry, so try to articulate your fears a bit better," he said. He put his arms around her. He pulled toward the wall by the window and started to stroke her hair with his hands. He said, "Tell me what you're worried about the most?"

"No, because you'll tell me not to worry," she said.

"I might not," he bartered. She backed away from him.

"You'll tell me to leave my cares and concerns behind, and to live in the moment, and to let go and have fun, even if it's just for the weekend," she said.

"You're worried that I'll tell you not to worry?" he asked, confused.

"No, but if I tell you WHY I'm worried, you'll tell me all of that, and I'll smile and agree, but deep inside, in the dark recesses of my mind, the worries will still prevail. I want this to be real, but I'm afraid of what that means if it's real. I think I would prefer you to tell me that it's just a game. I think I prefer that you tell me that all of this is a lie, and then I won't have to worry about my feelings any longer."

He smiled, a crooked smile, and said, "I can't tell you that, because that would be a lie, and I've just decided that I don't lie anymore." He could barely keep a straight face.

"Now that's a lie," she harked, slapping his chest. She took his hand and pulled him to the edge of the boardwalk, where they sat down on a bench. She said, "This is the same bench where we kissed last night." It was an observation, but not a pertinent observation.

She dropped his hand, turned toward the beach, placed her hands on the wooden seat of the bench beside her legs, and while grasping the boards in her hands, she shut her eyes, and said quickly, "What happens after this weekend? You leave Sunday night and I leave Monday, and on Tuesday we'll see each other at work, and what happens?" She turned her face farther away from him. She looked over in the other direction and said, "Do we share shy smiles, and sly winks? Do we hide behind doors and sneak kisses? Do we go back as before, as if this weekend never happened? Do we start dating openly? Do I look for another job? I just started there, but I like it already. I want to work at a place where I'll have an impact and make a difference, but is my job more important than my personal life? Why do I have to choose between the two?"

He put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She turned back toward him. He said, "It's a wonder your head hasn't exploded from all those question swirling around in there. That's what you should worry about, Granger. It has me worried, but then again, I'm just glad to know that's all that's bothering you. I was worried that the constant look of constipation on your face was a sign of things to come."

She hit him hard. He started to laugh. "In the words of the Beatles," he started, "let it be, Granger. In times of trouble, let it be."

"Whisper words of wisdom," she mocked, quoting the song right along with him. She said, "See, I knew you would make light of all of this. I knew you wouldn't answer me."

"I'm confused, that's all," he said. "Are you worried that I'm lying, or are you really worried that I'm being truthful?"

"A bit of both," she clarified.

He stood up and said, "How the hell can I answer that? I don't know the future any better than you do, so I honestly, and I mean honestly, can't answer that. Can you truthfully answer those questions?"

"You do know the meaning of that word, truthfulness, right?" she asked with a slight smile.

"You don't have to be a duck to know that it waddles and quacks," he answered.

She laughed and said, "Quack." She stood up and said, "If I try really hard not to worry, will you try really hard not to lie any longer?"

He looked as if he was in pain. He stood beside her and said, "It's a bit late for that, because I already lied about something else, and in fact, we're going to be late if we don't get a move on."

"Late for what? And, what did you lie about this time?" she asked, worried.

"I'll ignored that question, which is full of worry, if you take my advice not to question things right now. Don't worry right now. Let's enjoy the rest of the day, and the next day, and see where we end up. By tomorrow evening, it might be a moot point, because I might thoroughly hate you again."

"And you might disgust me again," she said.

"And I might find you revolting," he added.

"Liar," she snapped. "And I might find I honestly like it when you lie. Fine, let's avoid this for now. What do you have planned?"

"I booked us an appointment at the spa, but I booked it as a 'couples' appointment. Facials, saunas, massages, the works, but I honestly told them that we were married, to get the special rate, and the special package, so I lied, can you handle one more small lie, and then I'll give it up for good," he promised.

"The spa?" she questioned. "That might be nice."

"Our appointment is for ten sharp, which is only twenty minutes away, so go get ready and meet me at the spa in ten minutes," he said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

She ran toward the hotel, turned back once, smiled and waved, and ran up the steps to the veranda. He smiled and watched her go, waving the whole time. Then he apparated directly to the spa.

He did lie, one last time, but the lie was right now, because he hadn't planned a joint appointment at the spa, but he decided that might be just what she needed to wash away her worries, and besides, if the lie was for good, could it be bad? He ran up to the reception desk at the spa, smiled his sweetest smile at the girl behind the counter, and said, "Hello, My name is Derek Malone, and I'd like to make an appointment for the full treatment for my bride and myself, for this morning, cost is no factor." Yes, one more lie wouldn't hurt, would it?