WARNING: Mild smut in this chapter.
"Draco, could you please come here a moment," Narcissa called out from her position in the sitting room of the East Wing and she pushed her parchment and quill away. She knew Draco was in the nearby library, so it was no surprise when his light footfalls reached her ears only a minute later. He raised his eyebrows in question when he entered, but made no move to speak. She rolled her dazzling light blue eyes and held out a piece of silver card to him.
"What is this?" he asked, accepting it cautiously.
"An invitation. It is your father's fifty first birthday two days before Christmas, and that is only two weeks away. I'm holding a ball in honour of him," Narcissa explained, shuffling through the stacks of invitations she had written in her elegant script. After many colour changes and card alterations she had decided on a simple design, echoing Slytherin colours.
"And you decided to give me an invitation why? I would have assumed my attendance would be mandatory with or without the invitation," he frowned, clearly confused by his mother's actions. She let out a mildly impatient sigh and returned her gaze to him.
"Of course your attendance is mandatory, Draco. I would not stand for you to be absent. I don't know how you could even think such a thing," she chided and it was his turn to roll his eyes. "You are to hand deliver that invitation.
He stifled a groan. "To whom, may I ask," he inquired, knowing full well the person it would be.
"Hermione, if you don't mind. And tonight, if it isn't too much trouble," Narcissa said, returning to the invitations. He took this as his cue to leave, but wavered for a moment.
"Is there anything else, mother?" he asked, almost immediately wishing he hadn't when her eyes lit up. She gestured for him to come closer and then issued him a demand which had him groaning in utter frustration. Sometimes he wondered if his mother was absolutely and irrevocably insane.
Hermione frowned when she noticed a figure standing on the front porch of her home, but she had not time to contemplate the identity of the mystery visitor as thunder clapped over head and a downpour started. Within seconds she was soaked to the bone and she hurried along the path and up to her front door, fumbling for her purse and flicking wet hair from her eyes. When she reached the patio she could tell her visitor was Ginny, but she didn't appear happy.
"Gin, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, shoving her key into the lock and opening up the house. The two women entered and Hermione immediately cast a drying spell upon herself until she had returned to her normal, dry self.
"I came to talk to you," Ginny said obviously, making herself at home in Hermione's sitting room. "About Ron."
"Oh," Hermione frowned. "Tea?" Ginny nodded.
Five minutes later they were both in the sitting room clasping steaming mugs of tea and listening to the storm outside. Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the darkened street outside. It was all quite ominous.
"You've been reading the papers, right?" Ginny finally spoke and Hermione nodded.
"About Ron and Marietta you mean?" Hermione asked and Ginny nodded in conformation.
"Well, he's been pretty cut up about it all and he's been talking about you," the younger witch admitted, looking away from Hermione.
"What has he been saying?" Hermione inquired, still unsure of why Ginny was acting in this strange manner.
"He's been saying that he misses you," she said slowly before taking a long pause. "And that he wonders if you two might be able to get back together at some point."
Hermione felt the colour rush to her face and her hands instinctively moved to her hips as she stood. Ginny seemed to recoil slightly in her seat as Hermione let out an angry hiss.
"He said what?" Hermione demanded and Ginny shuddered. Nobody wanted to get on the bad side of an angry Hermione Granger.
"He...he said that he was wondering if you wanted to get back together with him," Ginny said in a small voice, reaching towards her pocket to clutch her wand. "Don't curse the messenger, Hermione."
"That bloody prat," Hermione snapped. "I need to have a word with him sometime about the fact that we will never get together again."
"Look, Hermione, I only really came around to tell you that and then I said I'd be home to cook dinner for Harry," Ginny stood and started moving herself towards the fireplace. Hermione waved her away impatiently. "I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Yes, sure," Hermione said, distracted, but then her face softened. "Sorry, Gin. Go home and say hello to Harry and James for me. I'll send you an owl tomorrow."
"Sorry about my brother, Hermione," was the last thing Ginny said before green flames engulfed her. Hermione waved at the flames, a little too late for Ginny to see, before running her hand through her mass of curls. She was absolutely livid that Ron could think such a thing! He had cheated on her after pressuring her to have a child which she didn't even want!
What she needed at this point was a long bath and a glass of wine. She picked up her cat that had watched the exchange between Ginny and Hermione with bored eyes and carried her to the bathroom, placing her on the counter. With a flick of her wand the bathtub was full of steaming water and rose scented bubbles. Hermione was all too happy to sink into the hot water once she had stripped down. Her eyes closed and she let herself relax fully for the first time in a while.
Almost two hours later she managed to convince her weary body to move on from the bathroom and so, with great reluctance, she stood and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel before shuffling to her bedroom. She wrangled a pair of white knickers and a matching bra from a drawer and threw a short robe over the top before deciding to follow through with her other need of a glass of wine.
Upon entering the kitchen her plans were momentarily discarded when she saw an incredibly wet owl waiting impatiently outside her window, letter clamped in its beak. Hermione opened the window and the owl flew in with a soft hoot of thanks, deposited the letter on the table, and swooped back out. Thunder clapped outside and Hermione shrieked, hurrying to slam the window shut. She hoped the owl would be safe. Summoning a bottle of red wine, she sat at the dining table and poured herself a generous glass of the dark liquid, sipping it slowly. She stared at the envelope, on the front of which was her name scribbled in her ex-husband's untidy scrawl.
One and a half glasses of wine later she finally pulled the paper towards her and ripped it open, pouring the contents out and skimming the words. She felt anger boil up as the words bounced around her mind.
...one more chance.
I've always loved you.
I didn't mean to hurt you.
We can start again.
I know you still love me.
It's what you want, right?
Her hand crumpled the letter up as the colour from the wine and her emotions rushed to her cheeks, turning them a flaming red. She flicked her wand and the letter set alight, Ron's words still replaying in her head. She clutched at the bottle of wine and the glass, forgetting any plans she may have had to make dinner. Instead she carried the two objects onto the lounge room, sat on the couch, put her feet up, and continued to drink until half the bottle was gone.
Having not eaten since half a sandwich at lunchtime, her head felt light. She was about to pour herself another glass when a knock at the door roused her from her plans for another drink. With a groan and a stumble she heaved herself to the front door and pulled it open, squinting into the darkness to see her mystery visitor.
"Malfoy?" she asked as the blonde shook the rain from his hair and sidestepped her into the house.
"I thought we were on a first name basis by now," he drawled. "Remind me to pay you visits more often. I love how you dress down for me." He nodded towards her untied robe, revealing her bra and knickers and nothing else. She felt colour rise to her cheeks as his eyes raked up and down her body approvingly.
"Sod off, Malfoy," she snapped, shutting the door. She walked straight past him and back to her seat, pouring herself more wine.
"Mature, Granger," he commented and she sneered at him.
"Why are you even here?" she asked, taking a generous gulp.
"You have no idea of how to truly enjoy wine, do you?" he said and she shot him a glare. "I'm here because that's what friends do. They drop in on each other from time to time."
"Not at nine o'clock on a Wednesday night," Hermione corrected him and he shrugged.
"How's Weasley?" he asked lightly and she flushed with anger.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied and he grinned.
"Word has it he's interested in courting you again," he waggled his eyes and she snorted.
"Ronald doesn't court anybody. He shags them, sticks a ring on their finger and then either cheats on them or they cheat on him," Hermione rolled her eyes and Draco laughed loudly.
"Sounds like such a romantic," he commented. "I can definitely see why you went for him."
"Shut it, Malfoy. Now, is there any particular reason why you decided to turn up tonight, or will you leave me to continue abusing my wine?" she asked.
"I think you've had quite enough. Have you drunk that much this evening?" he queried and she nodded. "Have you had dinner?" she shook her head and he threw his hands up in exasperation.
"What?" she asked, offended.
"You can't hold your liquor when you have a full stomach, so how do you plan to when you haven't eaten? I am confiscating this," he said, nodding towards the wine. He pulled out his wand and conducted a swift Vanishing charm before Hermione knew what was going on, effectively making the bottle disappear.
"Hey! That's not nice," she scowled and he stifled a laugh. "If you're done stealing my alcohol and being a general bother, would you please leave?"
"Oh, I'm not done yet. My mother asked me to deliver something to you," he reached into his pocket.
"Are you her delivery boy now?" she baited and he handed over a piece of card. She accepted it and fell silent, looking at what appeared to be an invitation. The card was silver, shimmering delicately in the weak light of the room. Her fingers unconsciously traced over the elegant green script as she read what was indeed an invitation, though the cause behind the party shocked her. "Your father's birthday?"
"That's correct. My mother wishes to make it a large affair, and as her newest friend she wished for me to give you the invitation," he explained.
"A hand delivered invitation by Draco Malfoy. Most women would faint," she said wryly.
"Or scream with pleasure," he murmured and she glared at him.
"You're disgusting, Malfoy," she accused and he chuckled.
"You're probably the only woman on the planet who thinks that," he sent a wink her way.
"You're so full of yourself," she scoffed.
"I know," he replied proudly and stood. "Now, I'm sure you're enjoying my company immensely, but I must take my leave."
"I'll miss you, Drakie," she simpered, struggling to contain her laughter at his disgusted face.
"Mother will probably be in contact, or, seeing as I'm her little delivery boy, I'll see you before the party," he informed her and she nodded, waving him away. "I'll show myself out."
A moment later the door slammed, pushing with it all thoughts of Ron from Hermione's head. Her eyes drooped and she found herself crawling into bed, falling asleep to dreams of laughing grey eyes.
Draco was nearly running as soon as he had left Hermione's house. He needed to get to an apparition point as soon as possible. He had nearly come undone at the sight of Hermione Granger, the woman who he had thought of as a prude for their entirety of their schooling years, dressed in so little clothing. When her robe had fallen open upon her opening the door, he had struggled to keep his mouth closed at the sight which awaited him.
She was fucking hot.
He apparated back to his apartment, disregarding all worries about muggle neighbours seeing him wave his wand to unlock the door. As soon as he was inside he fumbled with the button and zipper of his tented trousers until he managed to free himself and bring himself to shuddering relief as the image of Hermione Granger, clad only in her knickers, burnt its way to the back of his eyelids. He felt like he was a horny fifteen year old again, wanking off to the sight of a scantily clad woman in one of those Muggle magazines Theo always managed to smuggle into the school, and fuck it felt good.
Hermione woke to blazing sunlight and let out a soft sigh of pleasure. She stretched slowly, letting the golden light bathe over her body. She rolled over, shocking herself slightly when she hit a solid figure in her bed. She managed to open her eyes ever so slightly, but they eventually widened when she saw a pale, muscular arm. The object she had bumped into.
She manoeuvred herself slightly until she could make out pale blonde hair and the incredibly relaxed face of Draco Malfoy. She reached out and brushed some hair away from his eyes and he scrunched them up once before they fluttered open.
"Hey there, beautiful," he mumbled huskily, gazing at her with one bleary grey eye. He rolled over until he was on his back and propped himself up on elbows, the sheet sliding down and revealing his perfectly sculpted chest. She fought every single urge in her body not to jump him right there and then as she crawled over to him, comforting herself with the fact that his warm arms were more than willing to hold her for just a while.
With her head resting on his chest and one of his hands absently stroking her curls, both of them bathed in golden sunlight, everything was so peaceful. She tilted her head and absently pressed her lips against his chest, sending a slight shudder through his body. Smirking slightly at his reaction, she leant down again and pressed another kiss, followed by another and another and another until Draco let a low growl out from his throat.
With surprising speed he was above her, looking at her with heated eyes and a slightly parted mouth. She lay beneath him, nibbling slightly on her lower lip and looking up at him innocently. In half a moment he had crushed his lips to her and they were lost in a tangle of limbs, groans, sighs and moans, the only other sound coming from the tapping of the bed against the wall with their movements.
Tap tap tap.
Hermione was writhing, lost in pleasure.
Tap tap tap.
She let out a breathy moan as Draco did something that was most likely illegal in certain parts of the world.
Tap tap tap.
Relishing in the post coital bliss, Hermione wondered where the tapping was coming from.
Tap tap tap.
Hermione sat up with a start, kicking the blankets off her body which was now drenched in a cold sweat. There was no sunlight, no attractive male companion, and no mind-blowing morning sex. Instead there was the swirling grey of rainclouds, her cat watching her with beady eyes, and an owl tapping on her bedroom window.
She jumped up to let the creature in but paused midway to the window. Had she just had a sex dream involving Draco Malfoy? And a great sex dream at that. She shook her head in disbelief. No, she must have been dreaming about another pale, fair-haired male with grey eyes. She let out a groan of realization when it dawned on her that the sexual partner in her dream was most definitely Draco Malfoy, and she slapped her forehead as though she could push the memory away.
Shaking herself again she let the owl, which was still doing that damn tapping, fly into her bedroom. The creature deposited a letter on her bed, quickly flying back outside and away from the keen eyes of Altheda who was watching the feathery animal. Hermione grabbed her robe which was slung on the dresser and shrugged it on, moving back to the bed. Her dream had woken her half an hour earlier than normal and she let out an annoyed sigh as she picked up the parchment which had been dropped off.
Once again she saw red, mingled with an unfortunately familiar script.
Why didn't you reply?
...don't you get that I want you back?
We both know you still love me...
You can try for a baby again.
...I'm doing this because it's what you want.
Don't deny it.
The letter crumpled in her hand as rage bubbled through her bloodstream. Was her ex-husband really so thick as to think that there wasn't even the slightest possibility that they could reconcile their relationship? The window opened with a flick of her wand and she threw the scrunched up letter out into the rain, wanting to never see those words again.
Draco stepped out of his parent's fireplace and fixed his surprised mother a stern glare.
"What did you do to me?" he demanded, pulling the book from her hands and crossing his arms. He stood before her, radiating power and authority.
"What do you mean?" a crease marred Narcissa's forehead as she frowned in genuine confusion, but her son ignored her bewildered state.
"You know perfectly well what I mean," he snapped, feeling his temper rising. Narcissa remained calm but did not answer. "Answer me, damn it!"
"Draco Malfoy, you will sit down right now and not use such language in the presence of your mother," Narcissa ordered, rising to her feet. She was an inch shorter than Draco but seemed a foot taller at this moment. He held her icy stare for nearly a minute before stepping back and relaxing into a chair. "Now, what on earth do you want to know?"
He once again folded his arms across his chest. "What did you do to me?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about, Draco," Narcissa stated truthfully and his grey eyes narrowed.
"Then why in Salazar's name did I go home after visiting Granger, who was dressed in no more than her knickers, and wan-,"
"Draco! I do not need to know about your gratification in that regard," Narcissa said shrilly, effectively cutting her son off.
"Why did it happen?" he asked again, his tone still furious.
"I do not know," Narcissa replied and he scowled. "Perhaps you are attracted to her." A smile played at the corner of her lips and her eyes twinkled.
"Bullshit."
"Draco," she warned and he rolled his eyes. "It is perfectly understandable. She is a very attractive woman, and you two have such a palpable air of sexual tension about you."
"You're delusional," he accused and she scoffed.
"Please, Draco. Anybody can see it," Narcissa stated. "Besides, now you might not find my second request so shocking."
Draco did nothing more than glare at his mother before standing and walking to the fireplace, reaching it in two strides, and grabbing some Floo powder. Once he disappeared into the green flames Narcissa shook her head.
"And I thought he had at least half a brain in him," she muttered to herself, returning to the paper.
A/N: Hello there. I like this chapter. I realized that last chapter there was no Hermione whatsoever, let alone any Draco/Hermione interaction, so I decided to treat you all with this one. I do hope you enjoyed it. If all goes according to plan I'll have another out by tomorrow night, but then you may have to wait until the end of next week as I'm going back to school on Monday. Until then, please review! I love your reviews. They make me smile like a lunatic.
P.S. To that one less than charming review I received (which also made absolutely no sense whatsoever), please kindly go away.
P.P.S. Review!