Chapter eight
New Providence Island, 17th February 2004
"Morning, handsome!" Hermione looked around, surprised to find him alone. "Where is Malfoy?"
Paolo indicated the huge glass doors that led into the house with a toss of his head while swallowing his coffee. Winnie gave him a quick hug from behind and sat down beside him.
"Take the door on the right out of the sitting room, his bedroom is the third one, again on the right."
"And take your time, Hermione, we know you have things to … discuss." Winston snickered and Paolo elbowed him hard on the side.
She shot him a glare and walked into the house.
Hermione knocked on the door and entered without pausing. If this is a guest bedroom, I'd like to see the master suite, she thought as soon as she laid eyes on it. Then she noticed the shrunk down piece of luggage on the bedside table and the half packed one on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. She gingerly ran her fingers down the front of a perfectly folded shirt, a choking tightness constricting her chest.
"I never thought I'd catch you snooping, Granger."
She turned around and her mouth went dry. He was towelling his hair roughly, another towel wrapped around his waist, obviously fresh from the shower. She licked her lips and swallowed, clearing her throat before she could trust herself to speak.
"You are leaving." It wasn't a question. He stopped drying his hair and looked at her.
"Yes, in a few hours."
"But I thought-"
"I was going to talk to you after breakfast. I have an idea how to do this, only it'll take me a few days to get everything sorted and there isn't much time. I can't do it from here."
"Oh. Ok. It's just that yesterday… never mind. We can talk later." She started towards the door. "I'll leave you to get dressed."
She was turning the handle when he spoke.
"Or, you could stay.
Hermione looked back over her shoulder. His hair was wet and ruffled and sticking out at odd angles, the towel he had been using to dry it clasped tightly in his fists, belying the ease of his stance. He had a smirk on his lips and uncertainty in his eyes, and her longing for him became a physical ache. She took a deep breath and ambled back into the room.
"Yes, I could stay. But I wouldn't let you get dressed, and you haven't had breakfast." She was moving slowly towards him.
"Breakfast is overrated."
She let her sundress slip to the floor and unclasped her bikini top as she passed by his side, shrugging off her last bit of clothing just before kneeling on the bed. She turned to him, reaching out with her hand.
He didn't move for a second, then let go of the towel he was clutching. The one around his hips slid off as he twined his fingers with hers. He leaned over to take her lips, one knee on the bed. Her hand found the back of his neck and she sighed as she opened to his kiss, letting herself fall backwards, taking him with her.
He entered her in that same motion then stilled within her. Hermione held her breath.
Draco.
His arms were shaking and she pulled him to her, cradling him close to her body, rolling her hips against his. He shuddered from head to toe, then responded with a thrust that made him moan, and thrust again, and moan again. She couldn't take her eyes off him and he couldn't look away.
Tell me you re mine.
I'm yours.
Hermione knew that she was lost, and yielded to these feelings that were so much stronger than her. Then she saw the complete surrender on his face and felt her heart squeeze to breaking point. She pressed her lips to his forehead, her arms melding him to her.
"Oh, gods," he whispered against her skin, "my Granger."
Los Angeles, 28th February 2004
Hermione, Paolo and Winnie checked into the Bel-Air Hotel the day before the Oscars. Emanuele Boccioni had a stake on the Chalon suite, which gave him and his family the right to check in at short notice. Paolo had called the hotel eight days before, as soon as Draco had confirmed the plan was going ahead.
The suite was beautiful, luxurious in an understated sort of way. Hermione loved the extensive garden that was theirs to enjoy, and wondered how much land this hotel had to afford private gardens this large, and just how much this suite cost per night. She smiled to herself, thinking -not for the first time- that the high life wasn't so bad after all. She could get used to this.
They had dinner outdoors, going over the plan again, making sure they hadn't overlooked anything. Too soon, it was time to make the call to the Ministry.
Winnie walked through the French doors back into the garden.
"How did it go?"
"Great. They officially approved for me to be your back up, since it's far too short notice to assign anybody from England. Their words, not mine. They will not be sending anyone."
"Good. I spoke to Shacklebolt on his private Floo this afternoon. He will stop any person who volunteers to assist. And all official Portkeys for tomorrow will be denied, so if we see a face from the Ministry, that will be our man."
"I wish I was going too." Paolo whinged. "Why do you have to have ALL the fun? The one time I could have gone to the Oscars and I'm going to miss it!"
"If nothing happens at the Awards, we'll meet you at the Vanity Fair party afterwards. Don't complain, Munchkin," Winston gave his boyfriend a peck on the lips, "you'll still have plenty of fun; I'll make sure of that."
Los Angeles, 29th February 2004
The day of the 76th Academy Awards arrived, cold and clear, and Hermione was feeling more apprehensive than she ever remembered being before an assignment. Not only about the stunt they were trying to pull, but about seeing Malfoy, as well. Since the day he left New Providence, she had only spoken to him a handful of times, and never about anything personal. He had been direct and to the point every time, and deep down she was wondering whether that last day hadn't been enough to, as he put it, "make it better" after all.
The morning went by very quickly. Then the boys sprung on her that they had booked a hairdresser to "help her". An argument ensued, although in the end she found it easier to go along with it. And it distracted her from her gloomy thoughts.
By the time the hairdresser turned up, Hermione's practical mind had taken over. After all, she needed to keep a clear head, so she concentrated on the job at hand as she would have had for any other assignment.
Her hair was pinned up and her make-up was done, and she was very amused by the result. She looked like a doll, she thought. She pulled a face, laughing at herself in the mirror.
"Hermione!" Winnie was pounding on her door. "Hurry up, will you? We are leaving in forty-five minutes and you still haven't had your lunch!"
"What do you mean, forty-five minutes? It's only just two o'clock, Winston. It's a twenty minutes ride and the ceremony doesn't start until five!"
"If we are not on our way before three, we'll never make on time. You'll see!"
Merlin, this is ludicrous, she thought as she put on her dress. "If I have to sit in a car for two hours, I'm taking a book, Winston!"
She felt very self-conscious as she walked into the sitting room. She had bought a nude colour silk organza embroidered gown, sewn in spiral bands, by Oscar de la Renta. It was soft and flowing and made her skin look like peaches and cream. The boys thought she looked stunning. She thought she looked like somebody that wasn't her.
.
The ride took just as long as Winnie had said it would. Sunset Boulevard, as they got closer to Hollywood, was chock-a-block with cars. Their driver decided to take a detour through Santa Monica Boulevard, and then up Highland Avenue. Unfortunately, many other people had had the same idea. By the time they got to the vicinity of the Kodak Theatre, the crowds were so thick the car was moving at a crawl.ç
At last they were heading towards the crossing with Hollywood Boulevard and Hermione could almost make out the turning, but the endless parade of limousines and the sheer numbers of people, general public as well as the media, made it impossible to advance.
"Come on, Winston. We are getting out. I'll be a lot faster to walk."
"Are you crazy? By the time we get there, we'll look a fright!"
"I don't care! We'll look just fine for the job."
"Hermione, we can't do that. We'll get mauled. And you're wearing Mrs Boccioni's diamonds! Please, have a little patience."
They had arrived at last, stepping onto the red carpet that led to the Grand Staircase. Hermione was clutching Winston's arm to numbness. He patted her hand.
"Just wave and smile, we'll be inside in no time."
She wasn't prepared for the noise, the screaming, the sheer amount of camera flashes or all the microphones that were being shoved her way.
"Mischa! People Magazine! Care to comment about your alleged involvement with co-star Benjamin McKenzie?"
"Mischa! Is this your new love interest? Any comments?"
"And here arrives Mischa Barton, the beautiful Marissa Cooper in the O.C. in a stylish Oscar de la Renta gown, with a handsome escort on her arm. We wonder if-"
"Who the hell are they talking about?" Hermione muttered under her breath as she plastered a fake smile on her face. Winnie shrugged.
"No idea. But they obviously think you are somebody else, so suck it up, cross your fingers and pray that she's not in the next car."
.
Things got easier once they were inside the hall of the theatre. Hermione cast a mild Disillusionment charm, to ensure they would be left alone and to have a chance to look for familiar faces in case their man was already there. They spotted Malfoy.
He had his arm wrapped around a beautiful, fresh faced girl with honey blonde hair, wearing a stunning blue gown. She was talking to a reporter and there were TV cameras all around. Hermione's cheeks heated up.
"Who's that with Draco?
"Erm, I've seen her in some series, bugger, I can't remember… Jessica something or another."
"She's very pretty." Winnie let out a booming laughter.
"Don't tell me you are jealous! Hermione, he hasn't had eyes for anybody else in months!"
"Well, he definitely has eyes now! Have you seen the way he's looking at her?"
"It's all for the cameras, you silly girl. You know what a poser he is."
"Hmpf!"
.
They walked inside the auditorium, where they were ushered to their seats.
"What now?"
"Now, we wait. Brace yourself, Hermione. This goes on and on and on. For a very long time."
.
They were roughly half way through the ceremony. Sting and Phil Collins were presenting the Best Original Score Award, which would undoubtedly go to the Lord of the Rings film, since it seemed to be sweeping away all of the prices. They had been sitting and clapping for over two hours now, and Hermione was getting really impatient. She could see Malfoy and his date (or was he her date) sitting one row behind and to the left of them. She was tired and edgy and rather bored, not having seen any of the films nominated. And she hated Billy Crystal. Merlin, I have to get out of here
"Sorry, but I need to go to the ladies' or I'll go crazy," she murmured to her companion. "If nothing has happened so far, I very much doubt it will while I'm away from my seat. It'll be probably at the party later."
"Probably. Or it won't happen at all. Who knows. You go and take a break."
Hermione left the auditorium through a side door, and was surprised at the amount of people running about outside. She walked down a side corridor that didn't seem so busy, relishing the chance to simply stretch her legs. She spotted a door marked "Authorised Personnel Only" and tried it. It was locked, nothing that a simple Alohomora couldn't solve.
She was in the trap room, right underneath the stage. She looked around with interest as she stretched her back, listening to the muffled noise coming from above. Oh, for the love of Circe, won't they finish up already!
She almost jumped out of her skin when a pair of arms grabbed her, and her wand was out and pressed hard under a chin in a fraction of a second.
"Granger, for Salazar's sake! Lower your wand."
She almost did. Then she remembered the way he had been looking at his date and pressed harder.
"What do you want, Malfoy."
"Truthfully? To hold you against a wall and debauch you." He swatted her wand out of the way.
"Why don't you go and debauch that little trollop you came with." He let out a surprised laugh.
"Oh, Merlin, you are priceless! Don't tell me you are jealous." He grabbed her wand hand, fearing a hex. "Listen, amusing as this is, I just wanted to tell you I may have seen Riddley in the crowd outside."
"Riddley? Are you sure? I'm surprised, I really didn't think it would turn out to be him."
"I could be wrong, I thought I saw him one moment and then I didn't anymore. But be on your guard just in case."
"Yes, well, I'll let Winnie know." She yanked her hand away when she realised he was still holding it. "Better go back inside; I'll see you at the party."
She was almost at the door when she heard him.
"She's not "my date", you know? Just a good friend." She looked back at him. "You look beautiful, Granger."
He took out his wand and flicked it in her direction, muttering under his breath. Hermione felt a tingle, then her hair tumbled down in a mess of curls. Draco smiled. "Now you look stunning."
.
The Grand Ballroom at the Kodak Theatre was a bustling mix of winners and losers and hangers-on, waiters and champagne and hundreds of tables, there to feed the hungry guests after sitting for so many hours through the ceremony. Hermione looked around, surprised at how many of these faces she could actually put a name to.
They never let Malfoy out of their sight, concerned that anything could happen at any moment.
"This is too full of people, Hermione. No one in their right mind would chance an attack here."
"Yes, well. You never know. There will be almost as many people at the Vanity Fair party. I wonder whether this was such a good idea after all." She sipped her champagne. "This is very good, by the way!"
"Go easy on it. You'll need a clear head." Winnie caught Draco's eye and gestured with a flick of his head towards the door. "Come, we need a word with Drake."
They met in a little recess by the side of the door. Draco had undone his bowtie, which now hung loose around his neck, and Hermione thought that dressed in a Muggle tux, he looked good enough to eat.
"Everything all right?" he asked as he joined them.
"Drake, mate, we are thinking that they are not going to make a move as long as we are here. For one thing, they would have to have an invitation, and for another, this is way too crowded."
"Yes, we should make a move soon. It's a ten minute ride to Melrose Avenue, but with the amount of people going, it will take a lot longer."
"Are you going with the girl?" Hermione asked.
"Her name is Jessica. And yes, to answer your question, I am. Though her boyfriend is having dinner at Morton's so once there, I'll be on my own."
"If you arrive before us, stick around the TV people until we get there. If we are there first, we'll do the same."
"Don't worry, Granger. But once we are in, we need to create an opportunity. Here is what I'm thinking."
The trip to Morton's was almost as painful as the drive to the Oscars had been, although this time, Hermione did manage to convince Winnie to walk the last block. Malfoy was again standing by his date as she posed for pictures. He acknowledged them with a quick lift of his eyebrows. Hermione and Winnie walked unhurriedly and took a couple of drinks from a passing waitress. As agreed, they made their way to the back terrace and down the steps to the garden.
"Winnie, please make sure you don't lose us, but try to be as inconspicuous as you can. This has to be believable."
"What do I do if he casts a Disillusionment charm? Hermione, I'm concerned. I have no magic, what if I can't get to you?"
"Winston! Now is not the time to panic." Hermione had a good look around. There was a gazebo to the side surrounded by a tall ornamental hedge that seemed to twist and then curl on itself. She had found the perfect place. The hedge afforded a good look of the gazebo while keeping anyone fairly well hidden.
"Here. This lover's niches are perfect. I'm afraid you'll have to stay here while I look for Malfoy-"
"Can't I find Paolo first? I promised him-"
"Please. Now is not the time. You are my back-up, Winnie. I'm relying on you."
She gave him a quick hug. "The moment you don't see us any longer, walk towards the gazebo. I will cast a Finite as soon as I can."
"Good luck, Herms."
"You too."
.
It was impossible to find anyone in that mass of people. Hermione kept trying to spot a familiar face from the Ministry, but all she could see around her were actors and actresses and cinema people. She did spot Malfoy's date, but she was with a tall handsome chap Hermione didn't know.
She was on her second glass of champagne and getting desperate when she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. He leaned to talk into her ear.
"Were you looking for me?"
"Oh, thank goodness, I thought I was too late!"
"Your concern is touching, after the mood you've been in all day. So you are back to caring now?"
"Try to focus, Malfoy. There are more pressing matters to attend to."
"We are good to go, then. Right, lead the way."
.
"Slow down, Granger. We are supposed to be going for a romp, not a race."
"You certainly know how to sweet-talk a lady!"
"I wasn't aware you needed sweet-talking. You've always seemed eager before!"
Hermione drew her wand.
"Malfoy, watch that tongue of yours or I assure you it won't remain in your mouth for much longer." He laughed mockingly.
"Empty threats, Granger. I know how much you enjoy having it in your mouth, among other places." He smirked.
"If you think I'm letting you stick your tongue down my throat, you have another thing coming. I can't put things in my mouth when I don't know where they've been!"
Draco stopped, all amusement leaving his eyes.
"Please tell me this isn't about Jessica. I don't think I like your attitude, Granger. I believe I explained myself enough. This isn't funny any longer."
She lowered her wand and her shoulders sagged.
"It's not about her, Draco. You left twelve days ago, right after we made love, and I haven't heard a word from you since. Except to me give orders or directions. So tell me, how can I not think that this last time obviously "made it all better"? I don't like being played with, that's all."
She was looking down at the floor, blushing furiously. He lifted her chin, nudging it until she looked at him.
"Do you have any idea how difficult this has been to organise?" he said very softly. "This is the Oscars. To get invitations for Winston and yourself, and to find somebody who not only was invited but agreed to take me instead of their boyfriend was close to impossible. I can't even list the amount of people I've seen, begged, flattered and paid." He run his knuckles gently down her face until his hand came to rest on the crook of her neck. "It didn't make it better, Hermione. If anything, every time I see you it gets a little worse." He was murmuring so low now that she had to strain to hear him. His thumb was tracing the shell of her ear over and over, and she could feel him pulling her to him. Awareness hit her just in time. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at his chest.
"What the-"
"Not here. Shit, Draco, you can't kiss me here!" She was whispering urgently. "We need to get to the gazebo!"
He jumped back, grabbed her hand and ran, dragging her behind. She squeezed his hand and laughed, trying to keep up.
.
"Now, where were we."
Hermione slid her hands up his chest and around his shoulders while she angled her neck to look for Winnie. A shadow shifted slightly within the hedge and very fleetingly a hand gave her the thumbs-up, quickly disappearing again.
"Winston is in position and alert," she mumbled into his ear. She took his lobe between her lips and grazed it with her teeth. Then her mouth moved to his neck, leaving a trail of wet nibbling kisses. Draco pushed against her.
"Granger." He said gruffly. "This is supposed to be pretend."
Her hands slid to his hair and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply, urgently, and he kissed back just as desperately, pressing into her with his whole body.
They kept swaying, devouring each other, until he pulled back with a deep groan, his breathing ragged and frayed.
"Touch me," he panted. Something coiled tight in her belly.
"This isn't th—"
"Please…" his voice was hoarse and strained and thick with need. "Touch me." He took her hand, sliding it down his front, and she could feel the muscles in his abdomen twitching at her touch. At the waistband of his trousers, he let her hand go.
"I need you. Please." He pushed into her hand and bit his lip hard, stifling a moan.
Hermione forgot herself, the assignment, Winnie watching, the danger they were in. She seized his mouth in a hungry kiss and slipped her hand inside his trousers, barely grazing his head with the tips of her fingers. He hissed against her lips and she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him once from root to tip. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, a rumbling cry rising from deep within his chest.
"Ah, fff… gods, Hermione." Christ, how she loved this man.
"Draco, I-"
.
"Well, well, well. Isn't this cosy?"
Draco's head snapped forwards and Hermione froze. She looked towards Winnie's hiding place and saw him looking around, bewildered. She withdrew her hand and cast a quick Finite. Less than half a second before Riddley got their wands.
"Accio wands!" They flew into his hand and he turned his own towards Winnie, who was running to them." Petrificus Totalus!"
"Riddley, please. You don't have to do this. Lower your wand."
"Hermione, I've given you every chance to catch him, first by yourself and then even lending you a hand. You kept letting him go again and again. It wasn't right, you know? And then you had to go and become that shitty scum's whore. A Death Eater's whore, Hermione. You can't imagine how I felt when I realised it was for real. I thought you were trying to seduce him, to lure him into a trap. That's what we had agreed! But no, you had to go and fall for him, didn't you? Do you look at his arm when he's fucking you? Do you kiss his Mark? You are a sick fuck, Hermione."
"Scott, please, listen to me…"
"Don't worry. I'll Obliviate you." Hermione whimpered. "You'll forget your stupid infatuation with that piece of shit, you'll see. Everything will be back to normal soon." Riddley turned towards Draco then, wand swishing.
"Diffindo!"
"NO!" Hermione shoved Malfoy to the side and they both tumbled to the floor.
"Are you all right?" she asked him, already getting up. He nodded, rising slowly.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Riddley pointed his wand again.
"Diff…"
He never got to finish the incantation, as a heavy terracotta pot smashed into his skull.
"If you ever touch my boyfriend again, I'll kill you, you asshole!"
"Paolo! Oh, my God, am I happy to see you!"
Hermione rushed to get her wand then pointed it at Riddley, casting a quick Incarcerous before he could recover.
She turned then to the prone figure of Winnie, still Petrified on the grass, whispering a Finite. He still didn't move.
"Why isn't he getting up?"
She tried again. "Rennervate!" She was relieved when she heard him groan. "Go to him, Paolo."
He was staring at Riddley with a puzzled look and didn't move.
"Herms, look! What's wrong with his skin?"
Hermione approached the bound, unconscious wizard. She could see his features distorting, changing.
"Polyjuice." She was going to explain what it was, but Winnie moaned and Paolo ran to help him.
Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the transforming wizard. Riddley's countenance was melting away, and a familiar face was emerging.
"Oh Merlin, no! It can't be." She covered her mouth with both hands. And there it was, blonde hair, round face… "Hannah?"
Just then, she heard Draco call her very softly.
"Granger."
She turned around, catching his eyes, and frowned. Something was not right. She saw him sway and then his legs gave and he dropped to his knees.
Hermione heard her own scream as she rushed to him. She took him in her arms, holding him against her as he collapsed, looking uncomprehendingly at the ever growing crimson rose spreading on his chest.
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A.N: This chapter is for all of you who reviewed or favourited this story. With my heartfelt gratitude for taking the time to leave a comment. That's what we thrive on. Thank you very much, guys! :D