Hey Guys! Happy 2013!
Hope January is treating you well, this took so long 'cause I've been SO FREAKING BUSY with the holidays. I haven't had a solid sit down for the past two weeks and now it's school time! Visiting friends, work, dinner, outings, family and partying has consumed me man. I'm sorry!
Love you and here you go! Definitely lighthearted compared to the past chapter, no more mental breakdowns (for now).
The alarm is buzzing for me to get out of bed.
It's 9:15. I've already been awake for a half hour, rehashing the conversation we all had after Draco left last night. And I'm not quite finished. So I hit the snooze button.
An interrogation from the Weasley parents was made, but we all had sealed lips for the sake of Draco, (or at least I did). It's bad enough his former sworn enemies know the whole truth about him and his horrible past. Involving parents who no doubt would make a big fuss simply turns it into a mess.
We just told them that it was very eye-opening. Which was clearly not satisfactory enough.
Andromeda didn't say much before she went home, and she left almost immediately after Draco, rendering Molly and Arthur worried sick. I imagine she feels bad for him, and perhaps a tad blameworthy for not being in his life more to help him, even if it wasn't her choice. She's a mother, no doubt she wished she was there through the rough times instead of Lucius.
But a fresh start can be made after all that air is cleared. For everyone. I just hope all can go well this evening.
I lay back against my pillows, closing my eyes to daydream some more before I have to get up and start the day. My mind fades to the scene in the third floor at the Burrow…
{}
"So, what did you think of all that?" Ron asks us with a grimace as we settle into Ginny's room, lighting candles, sitting on her purple bed sheets.
"It was pretty hard to watch, to be honest. I guess I never really thought about Malfoy that way, in a sympathetic way, because I hated him," Ginny says, crossing her legs and leaning against her headboard.
"Well he got what he deserved for being such a coward," Ron huffs. Ginny rolls her eyes, and Harry is off in his own world, frowning.
"You're just sour because he actually had something to back up his shitty behaviour."
"No, he had something to back up trying to save his own ass, and have us see that he's not as self-centered as we thought all along. He didn't have to bully us all those years, and be a complete prick when we were trying to save everyone," Ron counters. "Harry?"
Harry snaps out of his apparent daze and straightens his posture.
"I guess I'm just finding it so hard to believe that he is as changed as he seems," he says after a pause.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
Harry looks down from the ceiling to all of us. "That was a really brave thing to do, wasn't it? All of it. Apologizing to us. To show us his most vulnerable moments in the hopes they we didn't hate him."
"Yeah…I guess it was," Ginny says. "I was too nervous to go inside the pensieve I didn't conceive of the magnitude of that action."
"I wouldn't have done that," Harry reveals quietly. "I don't know if any of us could unless it was a last resort. When Snape was trying to teach me Occlumency he saw a lot of my memories….and I wanted to curl up and die afterwards. Quite a few were nice memories too, and in there, there weren't any."
"Well that was the intent," I explain. "He wanted us to see that his life hasn't been so easy. I mean, we've only known him as the spoiled son of an aristocrat."
"It definitely worked. Fuck, did you hear what Lucius said to him in Azkaban? That was horrid! Can you imagine if dad said that to us? That we're worthless? No wonder he has daddy issues and no self-esteem." Ginny is shaking her head in amazement. "And all that time, he wanted us to win, too. Shame he didn't just give it up sooner."
"Yeah, I guess that's why he didn't want us found out at his house. Must've thought it was doomed at that point. And I know how much pain they felt when we left Malfoy Manor, because I felt Voldemort's anger burn in the scar," Harry covers his forehead instinctively with a palm. "It just makes no sense, some of this. Why would he even come after us in the Room of Requirement then? Did he really want his wand or some sort of proof that he wasn't such a coward?"
"Yes. That is it. I do think that he was largely a pain in our sides due to his own shortcomings, but his parents definitely spurred on the hatred," I add.
Ginny nods.
"He did lay it on quite thick about how worried he was about his mum, but I suppose if I had one, or if it was your mum Gin, any of you really, I'd feel the same way. Too bad his common sense is warped, otherwise he'd have gone to Dumbledore instead of suffering in silence." Harry thinks aloud.
"I think his mother is the only person he's ever truly loved. Because she's the only person who is blind to his flaws, and would give up her life for him…I'm not certain Lucius would. So if she was threatened, no doubt he was thrown into a frenzy that he's never seen or felt before. I mean think about it…his father projected this image of security and power for his whole adolescent life. And then all of a sudden basically out of nowhere, it's destroyed and he's left to fend for himself. He realizes maybe dad isn't the best role model."
"You can say that again. Tried to kill me a bunch and all that. Almost ruined our lives." Ginny chuckles half-heartedly at Harry's deadpan tone. Silence fills the room for a moment of thinking.
"So what….are his actions rendered as moot? Blame it all on Lucius and we forgive him now? Are you just going to let it all go, Hermione?" Ron asks me.
"No…I'm not going to let it 'go'." I tick frustrated. "You seem to think I've just forgotten all about the past 7 years, but I haven't. So long as he's acting towards me the way he's been, I don't see why I should hold it all against him when it's clear that he's been through pain like we have. He knows that I'm angry for certain things, and I need time. Bottom line is he apologized and meant it."
"You held it all against me when I apologized…" Ron mumbles. I look away, a bit shamefaced, as he folds his arms.
Harry clears his throat. "In any case, I'll give him a chance, as I said I would. It's no use for me now to hold a grudge that I don't need anymore. It's just going to be really weird…him being nice. I kind of want him to be an arse to me."
"Yeah, he spoke to me with respect last night. What was that about?" Ginny jokes uneasily.
"I'm serious though," Harry says, raising his eyebrows. "Definitely not ready for chumminess all around, doubt he is used to it at all."
"Yeah." Ron adds. "I probably won't be holding hands and doling out hugs any time soon. At school, it'll probably get me blacklisted."
"Oh god, school," Ginny says making a face. "God, everyone knows about you two, don't they? Going to be talking about you behind your back all the time. That must suck."
"Thanks, Gin," I say drily. She returns an apologetic grin.
"Sorry, sorry. Don't worry, we'll back you up when the time comes. Malfoy has more to worry about anyways, he's the one everybody loathes."
"Just tell him that if he sticks to us like hot glue, I'll smack him."
"Ron!" I scold. He just raises his hands defensively.
"No, Hermione I agree. I doubt he wants to dine with the Gryffindors anyhow, and they him. He needs to make some more friends so he doesn't get obsessed with you," Harry interjects.
"He's not going to get obsessed with me, for Merlin's sake."
"You're the only person nice to him, and that's not even on a platonic level. Besides, you're great, a real catch," Ginny says. "He's going to send you nauseating love letters soon, maybe serenade you in the Great Hall…"
"Oh shut up," I reply harshly, and Ginny raises her eyebrows, looking taken aback. "Look, it's just, I know I'm nice and everything, but I'm too independent for such a thing. I feel like Draco knows that. I don't like being put on a pedestal as if I'm some vixen…or the smartest, most unreachable girl ever! I'm relatable, right? "
"Yes, you're relatable. Sorry…didn't mean to offend you," Ginny says, looking as if she's stifling a laugh.
"She was giving you a compliment, no need to get angry," Ron adds, looking nauseated at the thought of Draco slobbering over my greatness.
"I'm not angry….still, you have a point. I suppose I could talk to him about it…all there really is, is Theodore Nott in Slytherin, who apparently is really bigheaded. Nobody else is there that he knows or likes, they all left. His old 'friends' don't talk to him anymore."
"Ew, bleh, that reminds me of Pansy. Mental images," Ginny shudders. "Not to pry, but what significance did that last event have for you? I wasn't even paying attention."
"Merlin, I don't want to hear this, had quite enough of the fucking…..I'm going to get some food…bloody starving."
"I'll join you," Harry agrees with Ron quickly, standing up and practically running out of the room in stride.
"Boys," Ginny shakes her head.
I clear my throat. "Yes, quite immature, but I understand….Anyways, when we went out to eat he was explaining to me the way he thought of relationships before and after the war. He found it odd that Pansy even openly discussed her feelings with him, which just shows you how stunted his emotional growth is."
My ginger friend nods and smirks in agreement.
"He wanted, I think, to visually show me that Pansy's not the kind of girl he wants to be with because she is much like his father, essentially. Like everybody in the uppercrust; too concerned about social standing with no room for change of thought. And I am different because I have chosen to chance him, and tried to see him as a person, not a bank or status item."
"Huh. Well he's one lucky bugger then," she smiles. "If it means anything to you, I thought he seemed sincere, and I didn't mean to embarrass you by saying you're a great girl. I meant it positively."
"I suppose he is lucky," I laugh, blushing. "And I know….I just hate being the centre of attention for this kind of thing, thank you."
"Not at all, Hermione, and I know what you mean. Now, want to go rejoin the 'party'? I'm going to try and convince the men to go and be civil towards Malfoy and go get suits together tomorrow."
"Yeah, bet that'll go peachy," I say, a new knot forming in my stomach. "I'm sure Draco'll be thrilled."
"Malfoy clearly wants them to see his effort made, he's going to try to one-up them now just as boys do."
"Yes, you're probably right," I groan. "Alas, let's get this over with. Maybe I just won't even go tomorrow."
"No! You have to come! I like Verity, but she's so much older than me, and if she's bringing Ron a friend, she's going to be worried about that situation all night, distracted from me."
"Oh, alright. But I don't really fancy dress shopping."
"Oh come on, you're a girl with a new guy, don't you want to look good for the ferret? He's going to say yes."
"Don't call him that!" I giggle. "I do, but I don't want to upset Ron again. Or cause a scene and get in the paper again. I don't mean to sound….vain, like I automatically have paparazzi following my every move. But if we're with Harry…I mean –"
"Gosh, Hermione, I don't think you've ever been vain. Take some credit for being a good person for once! You've only been a bit stroppy," she winks. "And you have been in the papers like Ron and Harry, it's a valid concern. You're just too high strung, too worried about pleasing everyone else, and then about the way you come off to everyone too. Just live a little. It's your break for heaven's sake." She smiles at me, and I feel myself relent a little.
"Now let's go eat, we can discuss fabric and colour of garment afterwards!" She pulls me off the bed with not much grace, and flies down the staircase with vigour. For a really sporty girl, she sure can be well, like Lavender.
I wish I could get so worked up so quickly like she does.
I sigh and make my way down the stairs, relief filling me as I realize that everything, at least for a moment, is going to be ok.
{}
I let the shower start to run as I clear my head from the groggy memories, wiping the grime away from my eyes, going to brush my teeth as I turn on the tap.
I've just had breakfast. I relaxed and read a few bits of On the Road by Jack Kerouac, one of the books Draco bought me a few days ago, while listening to an old Queen record. I felt very Muggle, sitting leisurely for a good hour, completely engrossed in fiction and waffles with fake maple syrup. It felt really nice.
I think Ginny was right when she said I should give myself a day off, so that's what I'm aiming to do today. I've gone over the events of last night, and now I'm going to forget them.
Harry and Ron finally agreed after an hour of bargaining to meet up with us in Diagon Alley, but not to go suit shopping. They said that they'd walk around with Draco 'so long as he isn't a prat.' Obviously, I can make no promises on his part, in fact I have no doubts in my mind hewillbe a prat, but I'm just happy they're going with him.
The only problem is if anybody else from school is there. They could very well be going to Dragonblood tomorrow too, I mean I tried to find the ad in the Prophet as soon as I got home yesterday. It's not exclusive or anything, just a grand opening.
What if Dean goes? Or Seamus….Cormac….anyone really who hates his guts. Which is perhaps 85% of the Hogwarts population. An altercation is the last thing I want, the last thing Draco wants. And Ron and Harry may not stop them because why would they feel obligated?
Maybe Draco will say no to coming. But then….I'd feel bad for going without him to a social gathering filled with drunk people.
Bah.
I'll figure it out after.
I flail my body around to rid myself of the negative thoughts swirling around and remove my nightshirt.
Opening the shower door, I set myself under the hot spraying water, letting it soothe my skin and wet my hair. Immediately I'm calmer.
I love showers because my mind goes blank. I do automatic, simple tasks like shampooing and conditioning while humming some stupid song under my breath or singing it as loud as I want.
'Look at me I gotta case, of body language.
Body language,
body Language – yeah,'
As always in the bathroom, I find myself in a musical trance. But this time, I don't find myself in a mechanical state of routine. As I sing, I find my brain carelessly wandering to a certain blonde boy, picturing his smile and his touch. His lips and his caresses. Ugh.
Last night I was really turned on. Let's face the facts.
There's a real chance that if this relationship goes somewhere, I'll be in the same situation as Ron and I were, and this time I need to know how to act. Read; not insane.
I know Draco told me to loosen the control-freak aspect of myself, and I've been thinking about it since then. But I don't want to start being sexually active when I don't have any idea of what I like done to me. It's like a grotesque desire for me to find a book on a subject, or at least ask somebody more knowledgeable. I mean, I didn't even know there were spells for birth control! How can I possibly think I'm pre-prepared for it?
And lord, I have no idea what to do with a penis. I mean, what is the right method to giving someone oral stimulation? Or even a hand job?
I don't know, but as of late I certainly want to find out. It's as if Draco turned on a switch I never knew I had previously.
Like Charms and DADA, sex is not something you can merely find a chapter or instructions on, it must be practiced and perfected. Certainly, I wouldn't mind if a one Mr. Malfoy would practice on me such things, but as for myself I am a tad too nervous.
God, I feel hot and bothered. And I definitely know the reason now.
Too put it the Malfoy way; Fuck, I'm horny. And I want to be free of this embarrassing agitation.
Maybe I should experiment.
I was lathering myself with a soapy loofa, but I set it down on the rack again and let the water clean my hands as I sit myself down in the tub.
I exhale as I move my fingers to my nether regions, slowly beginning rubbing myself in a slow rhythmic way. My fingers are cold as the sensation starts to flow through me.
Most people say that if you tell them you don't masturbate, you're lying. The truth is, I've always found the sensation a bit odd, and I've never been able to get myself worked up enough to get off. I've used a vibrator sure, I bought one when I was 15 and was frustrated about boys on top of school, the peak of my hormonal adolescence.
But I want to do it myself, and know how I like it, because if we get to that point, I want Draco to know how I like it, as no doubt he'll be more adept than me, though still requiring direction.
With that in mind, I stroke my clitoris to see if it feels better than going down my whole length, and after a few moments I feel a jump in my lower body. I concentrate and think about what arouses me; flashes of rugged shoulders, perfect smiles, and kissing lips pass my mind. Hands trailing down my back, holding me tightly, biting my neck.
"Mm." Yes, this is bloody good. But I need more focus.
I think only of Draco…and imagine him undressed, but instead of being helpless, he's staring at me with that intensity that unnerves me, eyebrow raised waiting for me.
My moans and groans become more audible, less constrained as I rub myself faster and faster, the sensation building inside of me, waiting to come together and explode. My legs are shaking and I try to keep them still so I can only focus on the sweet sensation of stimulation, but I just can't come.
I'd say around 50 percent of this for women is mental. Men are designed to be able to orgasm easily for the sake of procreation. Lucky bastards.
Alright shut up Hermione.
Sound mind, sound body. I need this as if my life depends on it. Clear your head, and don't give up.
...
When the doorbell rings, I've just barely gotten dressed. I'm a bit embarrassed to be honest.
I spent a good hour trying to get myself to come. I couldn't manage to do it in the shower, so I thought perhaps if I laid down it would be more comfortable on the bed, and I could relax more. But every time I was almost there, so close, the sensation was just too much to take, I was violently shaking, unable to control myself. And since I was the one conducting, I involuntarily made myself stop.
I just don't think I'm a really sensual person. I feel awkward and stroppy, all the time. I know I'm just average looking, I constantly feel as if people like Dean only find interest in me because I'm 'famous' thinking I'm more fascinating than they know, which is why it upset me last night when Ginny went on about Draco obsessing over me, as if any person would. Ron only was 'obsessed' because he's overprotective, and he truly loves me as a person can unconditionally. He's my loyal friend and he probably confused this from now and when we dated.
Most people think I'm too smart to be sexy.
And I can't seem to get that out of my head.
And now I'm just worked up and have to go see my boyfriend, lord, I forgot to tell Ginny privately that he asked me out proper.
Whatever, we'll just be doing schoolwork, hopefully I'll be settled down by tonight.
I walk over; open the door and….there stands a dapper Draco, dressed in another sexy outfit, of course. Black trousers and a navy t-shirt with red stripes under his grey wool coat.
So much for settling down.
I wanted to be stress-less today, maybe a snog session is just what the doctor ordered?
"Hello, beautiful," he says smirking, pecking me on the cheek as he steps inside.
Okay, forget the doctor, I'll write my own prescriptions.
I blush because I'm wearing ratty old leggings and a long white shirt, my hair up in a messy bun; not beauty at its finest.
"Did you have a lovely time discussing my slow draining sanity last night with the Gryffindor crew?" he asks, pushing his hair back with his hands.
"I did not, actually."
He frowns. "Oh really, and why is that?"
"Well, I mean it went fine," I mutter, tangling my hands together in knots. "They're just not looking forward to going back to Hogwarts. Since Harry said he'd be nice, and Ron said he'd…well not hurt you."
"Yes, well neither am I looking forward to the trip back. I am however, looking forward to Nott's face when he finds out I snagged you," he winks as he walks over to me and kisses me.
"'Snagged me, huh? Were you planning on it then?" I tease him, and he remains composed as his cheeks fill with pink.
"More like toiling with the idea, dear Hermione. And speaking of plans," he deftly changes the subject, "it's been eating at me all night and morning to know what our resident Weasley girl meant by 'see you tomorrow'. So can you indulge me?"
"Mmm, I suppose so," I reply coyly. "Did you have an alright night after you left?"
"Pretty boring actually," he huffs. "I was feeling vulnerable and ashamed, but when I went home I realized it was barely eight thirty, pretty short visit. So I listened to music, had some wine and put the pensieve back with no fuss. When mommy dearest finally escaped the bedroom I told her that I had a nice day with you."
I frown. "Are you not going to tell her about Andromeda?"
"In due time. I'll let her be happy with Jean for a bit, I can always visit my aunt in secrecy, right? She may be apprehensive as well you know."
"That's true…well, I'm glad you're alright. Want to go sit down?"
"Yes, I am alright. I feel as if the weight upon my chest has been elevated two inches," he chuckles. "And upstairs, perhaps?" he tries, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
"Good, I'm glad you feel better. And if you insist," I laugh, grabbing his hand to drag him to my room.
When we get there, I'm about to sit on my desk chair when Draco picks me up around my waist and spins me around onto my bed. As I flop I squeal at him to ask what the hell he's doing.
"'Hell', Miss Granger? Naughty, naughty. I want to sit next to you," he smiles, plopping down next to me, and pulling me upright. "So what's the plan?"
Ugh, he's so….frisky.
"The plan," I begin, tapping both palms to my knees, "is that I am meeting Ginny and Verity in Diagon Alley at 3. To go dress hunting."
"Today at 3? Dress hunting? What for?" he scrunches his face.
"Tomorrow night, we've all been invited to a grand opening of a club….called Dragonblood. And I was hoping that you'd come with us," I say brightly as possible.
"A club?" he pulls a face. "Really, Granger? You think it's a good idea for you three to go to a club? For me to step foot in the public spectrum with you all? The Prophet will be all over it: 'Draco Malfoy lends his bad influence to the rest of the Golden Trio and takes them out to get wasted!'"
I knew that's what he'd respond with.
"It's not a good idea, actually, I agree with you. But Ginny seems to think I need to relax a bit, and I hate to admit it's probably true. George was personally invited and asked to bring as many people as possible, so he invited us. So why not go for fun and dancing?"
"But you don't drink!" he exclaims.
"So? You do, you can enjoy what I don't want."
"But, Hermione, what if we see people we know? What will you do?"
"Introduce you as my boyfriend," I retort frankly, wherein he smiles uncontrollably. "You're being a baby, I thought you were the less reserved one," I smack him lightly on the knee.
"Ow, excuse me. I am not less reserved, I just have a better sense of humour than you. And I don't want to go out with all eyes on you. On me. Male or female. I don't want our reps to be further publicized considering the gossipy crowd at old Hogwarts."
I shake my head. "A better sense of humour, huh? Look, Draco, I didn't really want to go in the first place either, but I realized something important. This will be the last time for a while that we could even be together without scrutiny surrounding us all the time. It's also our first time going out without being too awkward, and we get to make a big deal out of it. Harry will be there, remember? And Ron. They'll be on them just as much as us, and apparently famous Quidditch players are coming too," I add for effect.
Draco is searching for words but none come.
He sighs. "Alright, alright."
"Thanks," I smile, and grab his arm, rubbing it. "And by the way, I have a sense of humour."
"Yeah, yeah," he says. "I know I'm going to regret this."
"Funny, that's what Arthur said when Ginny asked to go."
"Huh, something we can actually agree on," he rolls his eyes. I reach for his hand. "Well what am I here for then? Why didn't you ask me yesterday if I have to leave? Or maybe you knew after I left?"
"I wasn't going to ask you trivial tripe after such a serious occurrence, was I? Look, it'll be fun! And you can come to Diagon Alley with us…Harry and Ron will be there, they promised. You can….walk round or something. Grab a butterbeer."
"And do what? Make chit chat with them, ugh. I'd rather eat a bowtruckle," he says dramatically.
"It won't be that bad…"
"I'd rather see you try on dresses," he winks again.
"No, you can't!" I exclaim "It's supposed to be a surprise. Or something. Girl code and all that. And anyways, Ron is getting a date from Verity's friend, so he won't be so mopey."
More sighing. "Like they wanted to hang out with me if they weren't mopey. I dunno, Hermione. I think I may have to kill myself if I'm alone with them."
"You said you wanted to be more civil," I remind him.
"Civil, not friends. We'll hardly get to that point."
"You never know unless you try."
"I guess I won't…fine, you win, but you owe me! They think I'm a madman already. Hmm, maybe another free hour of snogging?" he perks his face up as if he's a puppy.
"No deal." Pouting. "But since you are trying to make nice…I will snog you now for an hour. Or perhaps three."
His proximity causing my inhibition to shrink to a minimum, and my hormones at the forefront, I push him back slightly so he's leaning on his elbows and straddle his hips. Pulling his head by the hair up, I'm centimetres from his face.
"R-really?" he asks breathless. I look up and down his body then back into his eyes, running my hands along his chest in an attempt at being alluring.
"Yes, I think so."
I lean in but he beats me to the punch, grabbing one hand onto the back of my calve and pulling me in closer, the other on the back of my head to fiercely kiss me.
The sting in my body is back from this morning, and I waste no time in returning my hands to tugging his hair and up and down his shoulders, his taste almost toxic, his touch creating in me something I didn't realize I could feel, something more potent than what seems normal.
Absolutely lethal.
I wrap my legs around his torso, my arms around his neck, and pull him on top of me.
Holy Fucking Christ, if Hermione continues to put me in social situations I hate, i'll be the happiest man on the planet.
We made out for nearly the three hours, and I can tell my Gryffidnor minx is begging to be touched in all the right places though she'd hardly admit such a thing. She's so horny.
She kept snaking her hand to my crotch and then decided the bulge in my pants was too daunting, shame. Not complaining though, I got to touch her tits.
And i'm the first one to ever get the privilege.
It feels good.
Everything feels good.
I didn't get to see them, I thought perhaps it would be going too far at first, but god damn I was so turned on by her just taking the reigns and jumping on me. As I flowed my hands under her shirt, I waited for a protest but instead she thrust them onto her hot flesh and nipples; that may have been the sexiest thing that she has done to me thus far. No, actually it was.
Everything feels good.
Next make out session i'm hoping some clothes can come off, but i'd gladly repeat this afternoon a thousand times over.
I can't stop smirking as we enter Diagon Alley through The Leaky Cauldron.
"Oh look, there's Verity and Ginny!"
They're waiting by the entrance as if they're leaving and waves. They smile and wave back, and as we reach them I feel no waiver in my stride.
"Hi," Hermione says cheerily, leaning in to hug them both.
"Hey 'Mione. Draco," Ginny nods in my direction as she returns the embrace.
"Hey," I reply awkwardly, "Ginny, Verity."
"Survived the night then?" Verity says cheekily, raising an eyebrow.
"Just barely." She laughs. I shrug.
"Well Ginny seemed impressed by your performance when I came to pick her up, and George was up in arms over the fact you weren't a douchebag ."
"I suppose that will be tested in its finality today," I reply drily, still unable to wipe the smirk away.
"Draco," Hermione nudges me, giving an embarrassed smile.
"You'll be fine darling, just play nice. Don't worry, we drilled into Harry and Ron's heads that if they are a bully we'll beat 'em up," Verity winks at me. "Speaking of which, we're due at the Triple W right now. Let's get a move on." And with that, the two half-strangers walk out the door.
"Triple W?" I whisper to Hermione as she drags me onto the chilly street.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, George's shop. I imagine that's where we're meeting Harry and Ron."
Oh.
"So how's business going then, Verity?" Hermione asks as we amble down the snow covered stone pathway, avoiding looks in all directions that are just begging for an explanation as to why I would step foot in here with these girls.
"Eh, pretty slow. It always is slow in between major holidays in store, and before summer when the kids are out. It's way more about the shipping orders and expansion nowadays."
"That's good to hear. But you know, I always hear people talking about this thing or another at Hogwarts, George is practically a local legend."
"Yes, you should be as proud of your red headed boy as I am," she clicks her tongue coyly as some old wizard narrows his eyes at me.
Always prepared, I pull a grey toque from my coat pocket and draw it onto my head, hoping that I'll be less recognizable without my stupid platinum hair peeking out in every direction.
"How utterly inconspicuous and totally not obvious you are with your hat," Hermione pokes my side as I roll my eyes.
"Oh shove it, you really think I want more attention garnered than what's been given for only 3 minutes of strolling?"
"Fair enough," she replies, pulling the rim of the hat down over my forehead and poking out her tongue at me. I grab her hanging hand.
"Don't make me bite that," I lean in and breathe, hoping for a rouse.
She quivers for a moment but composes herself and shakes her head at me with a look that screams 'don't you fucking dare,' yanking her arm away from me and catching up to her friends.
How adorable.
We make our way past familiar shops and reach the giant purple and orange building I have avoided for 2 years. 'Weasley' and 'success' were not a match I'd have made in a million years, but here they are. The store looks quite interesting actually, tons of items filled in it that I can see through the glass.
We walk in with a tinkle of a bell. There are few people milling about the store, it is a Thursday after all in mid-afternoon. They glance at us for a moment, but most save for a younger couple go back to their business, not recognising Hermione or myself.
"Ah, the fun has arrived!" George yells from somewhere above us. We look up to see the man in a red velvet suit, twirling a joke cane around, which extends then shrinks after every swing. He's standing on the upper floor where dear Ronnie and Potter are too, looking rather miserable.
"Yes it has, you big goof, now get down here."
George jumps gaily down the steps into Verity's embrace, nuzzling her face with his and kissing it. Very cute if you thought public displays of affection romantic. Which I don't.
It just highlights how unromantic I am not, and can't be considering the consequences that would occur.
"Are you going with them then, Georgie? Close the store up for a few hours?"
George scrunches his face to look a tad guilty. "Unfortunately no, I have a few wizards coming in for a meeting, and I hardly think showing up to 'Gone to Lunch' in the window would impress them."
"No, guess not," Verity replies disappointed, a frown forming that doesn't suit her usual smiling face at all.
"Sorry, mate." George says to me indifferently. "Duty calls."
"Gotta do what you must," I reply evenly.
"That be the truth, young master Malfoy. Oi, you two, are you coming down or waiting for a sign? Cause if so, here it is!" George shouts to the dwellers on the second floor.
"Yeah, yeah, calm your trousers."
Weasel and Potter trudge down the stairs deliberately slow.
"Hello then," I remark as they reach us. Weasel rolls his eyes and Potter gives an inaudible 'hey'.
"Er, shall we then?" Hermione begins. "Maybe Verity can show us the dress shop and then you can know where we are?"
When nobody responds, Verity chimes in, "That's perfect! Ron, you can meet your date. Her aunt owns the shop we're going to. There are a few good ones in here, but Raskolnikov's is the best."
"My date?..." Weasel is surprised yet intrigued.
George's face fills with glee, and he splutters. "You mean – you actually got some poor soul to go out with Ron! Ha! Hahahaha! What's the lady's name, I'll send her a get well soon card."
"Oh shush," Verity replies, shoving him into a wooden beam attached to the stairs. "Her name's Lanka. She's really quite nice, I met her when I attended Beaux batons for a few years of my schooling."
"She-she's French?" Weasel asks agog. Oh, here we go.
No more fucking French things or people, s'il vous plait.
"No, she's Russian. From a city called Rostov-On-Don. You'll like her, she is not very stuck up and actually follows Quidditch like you."
I chance a look at Hermione to see if she is affected by that comment, and she's narrowing her eyes, likely trying to figure out if Verity meant that she was stuck up and didn't understand Quidditch, or that simply Ron likes girls who aren't fussy and like sports.
It's probably the latter, but I feel the overwhelming urge to say aloud that she is perfectly humble and not inept, and I just can't for fear of making myself seem foolish.
Weasel is also looking at her, gauging her emotions. So he says, "eh, she probably will be nice, we'll see."
"You can say thanks, Ron, you know it won't kill you," Ginny shakes her head as she goes to open the door.
"Oh yeah….thanks."
"No problem, Ron. Trust me, you'll love her. Bye Georgie Pordgie," Verity kisses George on the cheek, he unembarrassed by his nickname, and we all wave bye as we head back onto the street.
We hightail it to this large shop in the new district that replaced Knockturn Alley. It's grandiose and candy red in both its exterior and interior, and it so happens to be only a few paces short of Dragonblood, which is a black building that looms at the end of the cul de sac where Borgin and Burkes used to be.
The company I'm with are all ahead of me, discussing the complete renovation of it, and how fancy it looks. How excited they are to go into it tomorrow. It's very trivial stuff, but they speak so easily to one another, a foreign concept to me.
An epiphany hits me as we're about to head on in to the store, that I've rarely felt this way. So unsure of my words, so unsure of how to behave, so scared of appearing rigid, enclosed, and yet not knowing how to project myself so I end up being both regardless.
I only know how to woo people in public spaces, and I see that Hermione can navigate herself properly around friends. Watching them all so happy, I start to think that she knows when to laugh, when to add a comment and when to let somebody speak.
But I realize right now that she isn't planning anything. This is all natural, no script or parent guiding her. The sincerity keeps me baffled, I wonder how somebody can simply let others in often without a second thought.
With Hermione I find it so easy to share feelings, but we're often alone. It feels special, as if it's a magical connection. And it's not.
It isn't at all, that's my sad insight come to light. I'm just another relationship to her.
It's not as if I don't matter, but there are plenty that do just as much and more than me. Because I have so seldom people in my life, I guess I didn't fully grasp this concept until now.
I feel oddly melancholy and drained as I hear Hermione call my name into the store.
"You alright?" she asks concerned grabbing me, we the last going in.
"Yeah…fine," I reply distantly.
"Don't be nervous…I know you'll all get along eventually." That's the funny thing. She thinks it'll all work out.
In her mind, we'll all be one happy family with equal care and affection but that can't happen. Someone will be neglected.
I just hope it's not me.
"Yeah, we will," I say, looking into her shining eyes. She smiles, and I'm glad that that's all it takes to soothe her, a 'sincere' stare.
She stands on tiptoes and pecks me quickly before turning around and dragging me to the circle of people.
As I get beside Ginny, discarding my hat out of politeness, I notice what everyone is taking a looksies at, or whom, should I say.
A very statuesque girl with shiny jet black hair, fair skin, and crystal blue eyes is standing at the front desk. She is long and lithe, with a nice clear complexion, but has evident curves that are outlined by her tight aqua mini-dress that matches her irises.
This is obviously Lanka.
Ginny I notice, is completely unfazed by the presence of the girl, even though Gingerhead is practically incoherent trying to introduce himself and Potter is obviously avoiding her gaze for fear of being accused of checking her out.
Verity is content, but if you're friends with a hot girl, usually you're hot too. This holds true in this case.
Ginny is quite attractive, I'll admit just this once, with her toned athletic body and long mane of hair, never needing make up.
And Hermione? We all know I think she's stunning.
So why does she look so insecure, I wonder? Her eyes are scanning Ron and Lanka's actions back and forth; uneasily she tries to smile as Lanka comes to give her a greeting hug with her, 'Hallo Hermione!' and 'Oh, you must be Draco,' in her Eastern European accent.
I can tell just by looking at Lanka, twirling her hair round her fingers, that she understands she has obvious sex appeal. Which is not sexy to me.
Hermione doesn't realize that her humble nature is what turns me the fuck on. She doesn't need to elevate herself by dressing up, she doesn't see the need in it. She just needs to open her mouth and talk to me, show me how intelligent she is.
It's kind of funny how she is so vehement about her own opinions, but when it comes to something she can be 'graded' on, like essays or physical attractiveness she turns into a worrisome little girl.
"I am zo excited for tomorrow, yes? It will be fun to go with you all!" Lanka squeaks. "I have never been to a British club before," she grabs a hold of Verity`s arm who smiles.
"How long have you been in London for, Lanka?" Ginny asks warmly.
"Just for a few weeks now. I am trying to get a job at ze Ministry of Magic, but it is rather hard, you know? So currently I reside wiz my Baba, and I help her out. You will know her as Valeria, she owns ze store."
"Yes, and I am so excited that my Lanka is finally doing somezing besides interviews!"
Out from behind a curtain that I assume shields an office comes a grand, large Russian woman of about 55, wearing gaudy jewelry and over the top make up with a neon green dress. Her grey hair is piled high on her head, and while her outfit is a train wreck she looks inviting and pleasant, quite unlike Marie and Gaston did.
"So, you lovely ladies are looking for dresses today, hmm?"
Hermione and Ginny nod shyly, while Verity goes over to hug Valeria.
"How are you my babushka?" Verity says laughing, hugging Lanka's grandma. Valeria simply beams.
"Oh, just wonderful, petit Verity! And you?"
"Fantastic, living right around the corner actually."
"She has the met the most handsome, successful man baba," Lanka exclaims, raising an eyebrow. "George."
"Ohhh, I knew you would, such a catch!"
"You flatter me," Verity blushes. "He's busy now, but perhaps later you can meet him. But if you don't mind my asking, I thought that Lanka's aunt ran this shop, what are you doing here?"
"My daughter does normally runs this shop, but right now she is abroad! When I go back to Russia, you should visit again, it was such fun."
"I'd love to!"
"You're all welcome to, as well!" She motions to us. "First I should probably know you, however," she adds laughing.
She walks over to Hermione and Harry, patting them gently on the head.
"You are Hermione, I know this," she says taking her hand. "Great things I have heard about you, young miss. So smart."
"Yes, I am. Nice to meet you," Granger says embarrassed. "Thank you."
"And you are Harry Potter! Blessed that I am, to have known you!" She continues moving to Potter.
"That's very kind of you," he replies with a small smile. "Thanks."
"No, thank you! And you, your friend, Ronald is it?" she clutches Ron's cheeks. "So tall! So many freckles. A rarity in our town. You boys are so handsome."
"You can call me Ron," Weasel says, looking down at the floor, a violent shade of red.
"Ron is my date for tomorrow," Lanka says excitedly, although I'd be gagging. She winks at him and he looks like if he grew any hotter he'd explode. "He is George's brother, Verity's druzhok, her boyfriend."
"Oh, now! Must be a beautiful family! Ah!" she practically shrieks as she reaches Ginny. "Your sister, Ron?" He shakes his head in confirmation.
"My name is Ginny," she says chuckling.
"You are simply stunning! Oh, look at you," she fusses. Everyone laughs except for Hermione, whose confidence wanes with every comment somebody else gets for being cute. "And you are her boyfriend?"
Oh, she's talking to me.
"No, no, Harry is," Ginny says stifling a rude grimace, and grabbing his hand.
"My apologies, dear. What a couple you make! But you, you look familiar, you are from England?" she addresses me. Ugh, I don't want to look recognizable.
"Er…yes. Draco," I say putting my hand out, avoiding my surname. "I can't say that I remember if we've ever met."
"You look like you are from ze North, simply, my darling," she tinkles. "You go to Moscow and everybody looks like you. Tall, thin, blonde hair, light eyes. Well dressed, attractive. I was merely curious," she grins.
I can't help but smirk.
"Thank you for that immense compliment," I reply. Potter is frowning with Weasel, clearly unhappy she called me out on attractiveness and not them.
"Surely you have a girlfriend? Doesn't she need a dress too?" She asks, and immediately I look to Hermione. Valeria moves her gaze to Granger, and the light bulb goes off.
"Ah, but of course, everyone is in pairs! I'm sorry dears, I wouldn't have put you together immediately," she shrugs, putting up her hands.
"It's fine, we've only just er, gotten together," I say awkwardly.
"Yes, we're not standing together even so…" Hermione adds a bit tersely.
Verity puts a hand to her forehead.
Silence follows.
That was clearly a sore spot of contention.
"So, shall we get on with the dresses?" Valeria asks, clapping her hands. "I closed the store for the day, you're my only customers."
"Oh wow, that's so generous, thanks," Ginny tries overenthusiastically.
"Yes it will be so fun, let's go!" Lanka squeals, unaware of how uncomfortable her British guests are.
"You boys can go to a bar or something, yes? Get something to eat? You must not see. Shoo, shoo!" Valeria pesters us, and Harry quickly pecks Ginny, and waves to everyone, while Weasel is unsure of what action to take so he mumbles a goodbye.
I walk over and hug Hermione, taking my goddamn time, nobody tells me what to do. I notice everyone is watching me, but I don't care. I kiss her on the head.
"I'll see you later, have fun."
Her worry seems to calm for a moment and she melts into a smile. "You too, try not to be a prat," she whispers giggling.
The smirk returns. "Never."
She smacks my arm before walking over to the girls and disappearing into the main shop room.
Before I leave, I gesticulate to Valeria to meet me silently in the corner.
Need to clear up a few things.