Chapter 23Meet the Real Draco Malfoy(Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls)
The rest of Hermione's week proved exciting and luckily distracting. She anxiously submitted her first short story for publishing. With the review process taking several days, she grew antsy at the thought of it. Winning the Coeus Award boosted her career in many ways. Several academies around the world invited her to be anything from a guest tutor to a contest judge. With only a few days notice, Beauxbatons Academy invited her as a judge for a potions competition which she accepted. Career wise, she knew she was going to the top.
Immediately, she contacted the princess of fashion, Bianca, to help her shop for some clothes befitting a contest judge. The next afternoon Bianca helped her choose several chic outfits. While enjoying the day out with her, they both discovered genuine friendship. Before they parted, as a favor to her, Bianca asked that she say goodbye to Draco, in person, to which she agreed.
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On the day of her departure, Draco's secretary confirmed that he would be in his gubernatorial office and promised to keep her visit a surprise. She informed Professor LaSalle, her escort to Beauxbatons Academy, of their new departure location. Stealthily, entered Draco's office that looked just like his father's study, slightly worried about the reception she would receive considering their date ended in such a fight. Walls of classical books along with several portraits of the Malfoy family surrounded a huge cherry oak desk. Several stacks of memos dwarfed Draco as he sat reviewing them. When he looked up at her, she saw dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.
"Hermione, I'm surprised to see you here." Somberly, he emerged from behind his desk. "Bianca mentioned you were invited to Beauxbatons to judge a competition. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I know I will only be gone a few days, but I wanted to say goodbye in person." Just the same as the past couple of weeks, Hermione observed that same impassivity that became his norm after the competition which drove her crazy.
"I appreciate it and I'm sorry about my behavior in the carriage ride and in the yard. I would never hurt you," he said in a semi slump staring at his feet. With so many years of animosity on my part, I guess I expected too much to be forgiven enough for there to be an us. My fondest hope would be that you could see the wizard I've become and forget the prat you knew for so long: the prat who repeated his Father's sentiments on Mudbloods without ever knowing one: the prat who ridiculed you every chance he could: the prat who denied his admiration of you for all those years. You'll never see the wizard before you who would put your happiness before his own, a wizard who would die for you. He strolled to a small circular window in the corner of his office.
"Draco, I know you would never hurt me," she replied rubbing his elbow.
"I hope you enjoy your stay in Paris."
This emotional void of his is driving me mad. Show me anger! Show me something! "I'm sure I'll love Paris. I hear it's a very romantic city."
So you're interested in Pierre and not Weasley like I thought. I guess I had that one coming. If it's the last thing I do for you, I'll make sure he doesn't treat you badly though I doubt he could ever top my harshness all those years. "I'm sure it has as certain appeal for you. We need to end the charade," he said in a distant voice. "While you're in Paris, I don't any want anything you do to create a scandal because of it. You'll be free to enjoy yourself." Why can't I just go back to being the uncaring bastard I was? This is killing me inside.
"Fine, I wouldn't want to sully your name," she said with a perturbed sigh. Tired of talking to his back, she squeezed between him and his window. Instead of arrogance, she saw only forlornness in his eyes. "That's why I hadn't planned to do anything that could remotely damage your reputation or mine." He glanced at her quickly before averting his eyes once more. "While Paris does have a certain appeal, London has far more but it is so understated at times that it is hard to see."
Can you see the real Draco Malfoy? Could you ever love me? "You really think so." His eyes revealed slight disbelief.
"I know so," she said lightly caressing his face. "While in Paris, I will only be judging a potions competition, reviewing curriculum books and observing at Beauxbatons." The distance in his eyes abated with relief. "If you weren't such a workaholic, maybe you would actually visit between our social engagements."
"I wasn't sure how welcome I would be," he solemnly confessed. Hope?
"Of course, you'd be welcome." She swayed slightly closer to him. "The way things have been, I thought you only wanted to be around me if cameras were present."
"That's absolutely not true. As a matter of fact, I'm tired of the cameras following us. I wasn't sure if you wanted to be alone with me anymore." He touched his forehead to hers. "I miss you." In a gentle, loving manner, he pulled her close. "Would you go out with me Saturday night, just us, somewhere not in the public eye and," he hesitated as if nervous, "not as part of this charade?" First, you will see that I'll keep my promise to be a gentleman to you. With that, maybe you'll gain trust in me.
"I would love to," she answered excitedly at his genuine interest.
As he leaned in closer, he kissed her tenderly. She pressed herself to him sensing his feelings were real. A knock on the door broke their moment.
Professor LaSalle waited there. "I'm sorry. I'll wait outside."
Draco lightly stroked her hair and looked at her lovingly. "You should go now," he said softly, "before its too late." She tilted her head. "You're making it difficult," said as he softly traced her neck with his forefinger, "for me to keep my promise to be a gentleman."
Before she left his office, she missed him.
After a very busy and productive week at Beauxbatons, she disco napped that Saturday. That evening, she wore a sleeveless white dress with emerald green and black accents, fitted silk corset style bodice and chiffon flowing knee length skirt since Draco gave her one clue about their evening. At 6 PM precisely, Draco knocked on her door.
When he saw her, he gasped, "Wow!." As he kissed her lightly on her lips, she tasted wintergreen. "You look amazing." Draco himself wore a black opera coat with a silk emerald green shirt.
"Thank you," she replied. "You look quite remarkable yourself." He took a small gift box from his pocket just as she removed a small gift box from her purse. "This is for you," they announced at the same time followed by laughter. She opened it to reveal a necklace of the Malfoy family crest with a silver dragon on it. "Draco, it's gorgeous." She looked at it thoughtfully, taking in its full meaning. "I'm honored." She took the necklace out of the box and handed it to him. "Would you," she asked as she held up her hair.
"Happily," he replied. Then when he opened his gift, he brightened with a dazzling smile. He removed the sterling silver ponytail holder, a caduceus, the staff of the two snakes, symbolizing Hermes, her namesake. "You honor me." Then he took a seat facing away from her. "Would you?"
She combed his silky silver hair, tying it neatly into a ponytail. From over his shoulder, she saw a flask in his pocket. During other social engagements, he would drink from that same flask and his breath would always smell of wintergreen. At the concert, his breath smelled of wintergreen, not liquor at all. In the carriage ride, after their fight, when he pinned her, his eyes reflected lust not anger. The potion calmed him, leading her to one conclusion: Sedo potion. Continual use of the potion would only work so long, and that when he did lose control once it wore off, his passion would be exacerbated, especially his veela side.
Then Draco escorted her outside where an olive skinned butler stood in an obscure corner. He un-wrapped a palm sized coat of arms and offered it to them. Within moments, they transported to another city. Ornate fresco buildings surrounded her beneath the starry night. All of it beheld a renaissance air that she remembered from school. "Draco, are we in Italy?"
As he took her arm, he smiled. "Welcome to Florence."
"This is incredible. Thank you." Arm in arm, wordlessly, blithely, they strolled through the cobblestone streets, as she enjoyed the scent of his Moroccan spice cologne. In a half hour, they arrived at their destination.
"This is La Tenda Rossa. It's a Muggle restaurant and they serve the best food." The cozy restaurant hinted an understated elegance with its old stone walls, wooden floor and small candlelit tables. From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco sneaking a sip from his flask after he spoke to the host for a moment just out of earshot.
"I have to know how you would come to know a Muggle restaurant."
"Our type of commerce area is a few blocks downwind. One day I caught the scent and never found another Italian restaurant half as good." He conceded, "Even among our kind."
In a private dining area, he gave the waitress their order in fluent Italian. Over a chilled bottle of white wine, they discussed her new writing career and the events at the academy. "So Adam, you've made excellent changes in the Ministry that no one else has been able to."
He almost choked on his food. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please, once I heard the name and the fact that you've working round the clock lately, I pieced it together." While she took a bite of food, he stared in amazement. "I admire what you are doing." She raised her glass. "Here's to Draco Malfoy, the next Minister of Magic." He tapped her glass and they both sipped. "You've changed for the better, just keep your wicked sense of humor. It's perfect."
"You are very kind, Hermione." He raised his glass to her, "Here's to the next great author of our time. You're writing is brilliant. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Looking at her with admiration, he ate few bites of tortellini. "When you are a famous writer, will you give me autographed copies of your books or will I have to wait in line with the rest of the schmucks?"
They were both laughing when dinner was over. Then he escorted her to an outdoor festival with dancing. "C'mon. Let's show the Muggles how it's done." After a couple hours of dancing, he led her from the dance floor.
"Crisalide, I have more surprises." Nearby, behind a large oak tree, he commanded, "Reveal." An old rug appeared on the ground with a picnic basket where another bottle of wine chilled. After they sat down, he poured them both drinks.
When she finished her drink, she realized they were several feet off the ground. "These are so rare. This is fantastic," she exclaimed in delight. The carpet took them through the city towards the museums and historic buildings before it rose higher and higher into the clouds. Though she was never comfortable flying, she loved the view and more importantly the company. The only disappointment so far was that he still hadn't tried anything. Then he handed her a small box that revealed a set of diamond earrings. "They're beautiful but you don't need to keep giving me expensive gifts."
"I want to show you," he hesitated, "how much I care." After they finished their tour of Florence, he commanded the rug return to the hotel where he kissed her briefly on the lips and adjourned to his adjacent room.
Gazing at her reflection, she combed her hair. Can I be in love with Draco Malfoy? It all seems so unreal. I've always thought that love was a slow steady feeling not the wild thrill ride coupled with intense physical attraction that she felt for Draco. Is this love, lust or curiosity? This seems too much like a fairytale. Just do it: be impulsive. In her silky peach negligee, she rapped on the door. "Draco, I wish to speak to you." He opened the door wearing a silk blue bathrobe.
"Are you alright," he asked slowly giving her the once over. "Do you need anything?"
"Yes," she replied pulling him into a passionate kiss tasting his minty lips. She untied the belt of his bathrobe. Beneath her fingers, she felt his heart racing as she slowly caressed every nuance of his chest. Then as he slowly undressed her, his fingertips very lightly titillated the nape of her neck. His tattoos followed her fingers whirling beneath them. As they found the bed, his natural Moroccan spiced scent became her aphrodisiac, impassioning her as she threw him against the pillows. "My dragon," she murmured as she explored once forbidden pleasures. His heated breath tickled the nape of her neck and then her shoulders as his kisses explored every part of her. "Oh Draco," she yelled as she trembled in a wave of exhilaration. As she caressed his virile chest beneath her, he moaned in rapture as she nibbled his earlobes. Her entire body peaked over and over with delectable fiery tingling waves.
As she tightened on him, he shuddered in elation. "Crisalide!" As he grasped her hips, he pleaded, "More!" He squeezed her firmly. He writhed in rapture as she tightened again. He arched in fervor as he cried out, "Hermione!" After he closed his eyes and relaxed, his skin lightly glistened. She rested against him as he held her lightly stroking her hair. He kissed her forehead and murmured in a slightly hoarse voice, "My Crisalide, you've won." Soon she realized he had fallen asleep.
"With the way you cried out, you're ruined for other witches and all mine." She softly giggled. She peacefully rested next to her lover soon after.
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Dawn peeked through the curtains awakening her along with Draco banging about in the adjacent room. As she freshened up, she heard more movement. Six in the morning, her watch sang to her. As she drowsily crawled back into her bed, she heard the adjacent door open and Draco's footsteps behind her. "Draco, it's too early to be up on a Sunday. I'm going back to bed."
With a cross between a low growl and a purr, he was on top of her. With ethereal glow, his eyes revealed catlike slits, a veela trait. Hesitantly, he touched her hair but went no further, with a ravenous but questioning look in his eyes. "Yes," she whispered as she wrapped her legs around his hips, pressing herself tightly against him. The ardor of Draco's veela emotions brought out a buried animalism in her, causing her to scratch his back in several moments of ecstasy. It enraptured him assailing her in a tidal wave of euphoria. After intense rapture, he slept soundly with a glow of elation and serenity. As she snuggled against his chest, his arm affectionately encircled her waist. This is exactly where I want to be. Both exhilarated and exhausted, she dozed once more.
Shortly before noon, she felt his rhythmic warm breath tickling the nape of her neck, probably the first sound sleep he had in ages and he deserved it. Quietly, she showered and dressed in black jeans and a tan sweater that she found amongst other clothes in her size, in the hotel closet. She gathered her clothes from the previous evening and sent them home. "Puro," she murmured as she lightly kissed him goodbye. "You're certainly not a prude." Famished, she went to the market to get them some lunch since they had slept in so late. She figured it might be another hour at least before he awakened.
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When she returned, he had left a note on the bed that simply said, "Forgive Me." He worked so many hours at the Ministry and she figured they desperately needed him. She would see him soon enough.
