Title: Pillow Talk, part 4
Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer applies.
AN: Thanks for the reviews! I encourage all readers to leave a little review because its really what gets authors motivated to continue stories. Even suggestions or prompts would be nice, or a simple "Update soon!" will do. =) These chapters will jump around in the two year timeline, possibly backwards and forwards. I might extend the timeline if it suits the story's needs but for now, it will do.
Three months after that...
"You are not helping."
"I'm sorry, Granger but I'm not good at this."
"What are you talking about? Clothes practically jump on you and everything you wear screams..."
"Screams what?" Draco smirked as he lowered his Daily Prophet. He had taken up residence as usual in Hermione's bed, reclining on top of her covers, his feet crossed at his ankles, and his shoes resting on the floor near the foot of the bed. He was wearing a fresh white linen button down and black slacks. His black coat was draped on the footboard of her bed. He had just come home to change into fresh clothes for his evening out when Hermione begged for his help. Apparently she was going out on a date and had no sense whatsoever as to what to wear.
"I'm not going to finish that sentence. Your ego is big enough as it is," she claimed looking over various clothing that was laid out on the other side of the bed.
"I can't help it. I always look good. It's the Malfoy gift," he said as he raised his Daily Prophet back into view.
"Help me, Draco!" Hermione whined.
"What is so hard?" he asked exasperatedly.
"Well should I wear pants? A dress? Jeans? Help!"
"Where's Red? She's far more qualified than I am in dressing in women's clothing. Now, If you need help in removing women's clothing, I'm your man," he drawled.
"Ginny's sick. And I can't find anything that I like," she replied, ignoring his comment.
"Ugh. You women. I swear it's like a freaking production every time."
"Draco!" She had firmly planted her hands on her hips and for a minute there, he swore that she even stomped her foot like a petulant child.
"Just go put something on, and I will be the judge." He waved her to go inside her walk-in closet.
Hermione huffed away into her walk in closet, and began to rummage through the hangers. "How's Astoria?" she asked from within.
"She's fine. I'm taking her out tonight. Mother had her over for tea last Sunday. Mother thinks she's the perfect girl. She believes she embodies what every Malfoy wife should be. Obedient, obliging, beautiful..."
"Pure-blooded," she finished for him. "I doubt she's well read though," Hermione smirked.
"Hey now. She reads," he said defensively. "Reads Witch Weekly or something," he said quietly.
"Okay, what about this?" Hermione walked out wearing a grey, high waist skirt, a blue button down, and a matching grey cardigan.
"What are you, a school marm? Next!" he replied. She glared at him as she walked back into her closet.
"So it's been quite a while since you've been dating her. I'm sure she expects something after all the attention you've been giving her," she assumed.
"I suppose so," he replied nonchalantly flipping his newspaper.
"Don't lead her on, Draco. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," she warned from inside the closet.
"I told you what I think about marriage, Granger. She knows that love isn't involved," he assured her.
"If that's the story you want to go with it. All right. What do you think of this?" she walked out wearing a navy blue and white, horizontal striped, knee-high cashmere dress.
"Definitely not," instantly giving his veto.
"Why not?" she asked looking down at herself.
"It makes you look fat," he stated frankly.
"DRACO MALFOY!" Hermione shrieked, popping her head back up and her eyes widening.
"What?" he asked, not realizing the enormous faux pas he had made.
"You never tell a woman that she looks fat!" she exclaimed picking up a Converse shoe and throwing it at his head.
"I'm not saying you are! I'm saying that outfit makes you look it!" he ducked his head from the shoe that whizzed past his left ear.
"Then say you don't like the color! Don't say because it makes me look fat! You are on my list," she declared pointing at him as she walked back into her walk in closet, this time slamming the door. "Emotional range of a teaspoon…"
"Oh come on, Granger. Come on out." Draco tossed the Daily Prophet onto her bed before making his way to her closet.
"No, I'm fat," she replied from inside.
"You are not fat," he said, sighing at her claim.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," she seethed.
"I'm sorry! I've never done this before," he said to the closed closet door, raising his shoulders in confusion. "I don't know how to give my opinion to women. No one ever asks for it really. I think you're the first woman who actually cares about what I say. Astoria never asks if she looks good, she tells me."
"I could see that. Although, after this experience, I would think twice about asking for your opinion. Of all days for Ginny to be sick," she muttered stripping off her clothes. It was then when she eyed an outfit she had never worn before, only because it was given as a gift and a bit daring.
Draco rapped on her closet door. No answer. He sighed. Why didn't he have sisters? At least that could have prepared him for how to handle women and clothes. Any other person he would have removed his wand from his pocket and cast an Alohamora but Granger wouldn't hesitate hexing his balls off in retaliation. "Come on, Granger. Please? I promise I won't tell you that you look-"
"How about this one?"
Hermione had opened the door to reveal herself behind it wearing a simple, haltered, black jumpsuit with a silver loop chain belt hanging low around her waist. The v-neck was deep enough to cause any man to look twice, however, remained classy against Hermione's frame. Even though the pant was wide leg, Draco could see on her feet she wore silver pumps with a three-inch stiletto heel. Her hair was loosely tied in a bun at the nape of her neck with soft tendrils framing her face.
"Um…yeah…that works," Draco stammered. He nodded slightly to give another sign of approval.
"I don't look fat? Black is supposed to be slimming," she said as she smooth out the wrinkles in her outfit.
"Granger, you were never fat."
"I still can't believe you said I was fat," she replied as she walked over to her dresser to put her diamond studs in. "You're a right git, you know that? By the way, if you ever do get married, and your wife is pregnant and she asks you if she looks fat, say no."
"Duly noted. Lesson learned. Who is this guy anyway? Why do you care so much about how you look like?" he asked standing behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror. It scared him how attractive of a couple they both were standing together. He still towered over a bit even with her wearing her heels.
"Because I really like this guy. The guys I've been dating lately have been horrible, and this one actually might have a brain. He works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to look good. You of all people should know that. You spend hours in front of the mirror just fixing your hair."
"Not hours. Half hour at the most." His mind immediately racked up the possible contenders for Granger's heart but that was almost an impossibility seeing how many men were in that department vying for a shot with Hermione Granger, War Hero.
"You mean, at the least," she countered as she applied light makeup.
"Where's this bloke taking you, by the way?" he asked, plopping himself back on her bed, resuming his original position. He turned his attention back to the paper, and not to Hermione's bare back and rear as he caught himself doing.
"He said he wanted to take me to this new restaurant in Wizarding London."
"And you thought it would be appropriate to wear jeans?" he mused. Hermione shot him another death glare through her reflection in the mirror.
Draco coughed awkwardly. "Anyway, I'd much prefer you to be in those flannel pajamas and socks, eating a pint of ice cream, and watching one of those muggle movies on that television of yours," he replied.
"Hmph. Maybe that's why I'm fat," she grunted as she placed her wand in her large evening clutch.
"You're not fat!" He grabbed her pillow and attempted to suffocate himself in order to escape her mutterings.