"Maybe I should've straightened it." She told her mom.
"Nonsense, you look fabulous."
"But mom it's so curly."
Mrs. Granger kissed her daughter on the cheek. "My dear, you worry too much. It's just a block party."
"But mom-"
"Mimi for god sake's stop talking and run downstairs. That poor boy has been waiting forever and your father wants a picture."
"This isn't prom I don't understand why Dad want a picture so badly."
Ms. Granger gave a very irritated sigh. "He's being your father. Honestly who knows what that man is thinking."
Hermione didn't know why she felt so nervous. But recently Draco just made her feel that way. Where her words would stumble over each other and she felt like she forgot how to walk sometimes and her hair always seemed to be in her face. Which is why she was so worried about it now. Nonetheless she did as she was told; it was nice to be able to just follow instruction- it made her life much easier-and went down the stairs, feeling like she was clumsily stomping on each and every step.
"You look great," Draco said, as she reached the bottom. "It's just my summer dress," she shrugged, cheeks flushing slightly, "I've had it for a while." He nodded. She kicked herself inwardly. Why would she mention that she's had it for so long?
"All right you two, together now."
"Dad…" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Come on, big smiles," he formed one on his own face as if to show them how. Hermione muttered a small apology to Draco. He brushed it away, insisting it was no problem.
"Honestly darling. My casserole will get cold."
"You think I'm being slow on purpose? By the time we get there Mrs. Firgow's mashed potatoes will be all gone."
Mrs. Granger muttered something no one could quite catch under her breath.
Mr. Granger put his eye up to the tiny lens of the camera despite the image appearing on the larger preview screen. Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and smiled. Hermione's heart practically leapt out of her throat, but she quickly smiled, knowing her father would take the picture at any moment. "Ok, one. Two. Three!" The flash was blinding, but the picture seemed satisfactory enough for Mr. Granger, so they were off.
The party was about three houses down so they didn't have to walk very far. Draco insisted on carrying the casserole Ms. Granger had made, and although Hermione reassured him that he didn't have to, her mother seemed to appreciate the gesture.
"I've never been to a block party." Draco said. "Oh they're great fun." Mrs. Granger chimed in, before Hermione could say anything. "Never been? How peculiar. Don't you know your neighbors boy?" Hermione cringed at her father's words. "The houses are much farther apart where I'm from." Draco said simply. Hermione let out a sigh of relief when her parents decided to drop the topic.
When they arrived, it was just as Hermione had expected. A gigantic swarm of 'how are yous' and 'look how big you've grown' and 'who is this handsome young man' followed by very indiscreet winks. This was the part Hermione hated the most. Finally they got around to the hosts of the party, Mr. And Mrs. Firgow. He was a plump man who was partially balding but refused to accept it, and she was a rather short woman with big cheeks and soft eyes. When introductions were through, Draco stuck out the dish in his hands. "We brought a casserole. Well, the Grangers did. I just carried it." You would have thought it was the funniest thing anyone's ever said the way Mrs. Firgow laughed. "My, my, Hermione. You've got yourself quite the catch."
"Oh, no, we're just friends." Mrs. Firgow looked from Hermione to her mother with a raised eyebrow. She cleared her throat. "Yes of course, my mistake. Make yourselves at home!" she said, spreading her arms, "Go, eat!"
"When you've finished, bring me some punch darling." Hermione sighed but tried to smile. "Yes, mom."
Hermione pulled Draco along, handing him a paper plate and explaining what not to get. "The cookies always look delicious but Mrs. Bird can't see anymore, and she always confuses the sugar with the salt." Draco gave her a doubtful look and grabbed the cookie anyway. "I think you're just trying to save them for yourself, Granger." Hermione glared at him slightly. "Go on then, take a bite." Draco, being Draco, bit off almost half the cookie in spite. Hermione tried to hold in her laughter as Draco's face went from confident to somewhat grossed out to 'oh god where are the napkins.' Hermione giggled, handing him one, and he tried to nonchalantly get rid of the bad cookie in his mouth.
They moved over to a relatively empty table. "Oh, I'll be right back." she told him, putting her plate down.
"And they've been seeing each other all of summer." "Well he's a very handsome young man, isn't he? Surely there must be something going on."
Hermione cleared her throat. The two women turned around. "Mom. Your punch."
"Thank you Mimi." Mrs. Granger said, taking the punch.
"Honestly Hermione, a boy like that and you're just friends?" "That's all it is Mrs. Firgow." Hermione assured her. Mrs. Firgow gave her an unsatisfied look but didn't press the issue.
Hermione and Draco made their way to the table at about the same time, as he had gone to get some punch for himself. What happened next could only be described as a blur.
"Oh my god!" Her dress had the pinkish hue and was sticking to her skin, and it felt like all eyes were on her. She couldn't breathe. "Hermione I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Firgow began to cackle. "You two look like a prom gone wrong." Hermione looked from herself to Draco, and suddenly began laughing. Draco only stared at her. "I'm sorry," he said most gravely. That only made her laugh even more. "Draco. You're covered in punch too." He quickly looked down at his shirt. The pink was oozing from his chest. "Go home and change. He can borrow one of your father's shirts." Mrs. Granger told them. "Come on," Hermione motioned for him to follow.
"I'm sorry for ruining your dress."
"Huh?" Hermione looked down, "Oh. No, its fine it'll come out." She smiled at him, "Besides I think your shirt is worth three times my dress anyway." She laughed a bit. Hermione liked this time of the day. The sun was just beginning to set, so it could have been early morning or late evening, and you could hear the overlapping chatter of the party in the not-so-distance.
Hermione scrambled with her keys, as usual, but she felt as though her clumsiness had heightened. "Sorry, you'd think I'd know which is which after all this time." Draco chuckled, "It's fine." When she managed to open the door, she led him upstairs to her parent's room. She rummaged through a few drawers and pulled out some shirts. "I don't know which you'll prefer. They're not very new or anything-"
"They'll do just fine, Hermione."
"Right. Well. You know where the bathroom is. I'm going to go change."
Hermione locked her bedroom door and tried to pull out the next nicest thing she had. Which she quickly realized wasn't all that much. It was the end of the week so nearly all her clothes were in the laundry basket. She could pull something out maybe…
No. Definitely not. Bad idea. She took off the dress and ran to the bathroom, trying to get rid of the punch. Her stupid hair kept getting in her face. Why did things always have to go so badly for her? She grabbed a scrunchie and tied it up in a messy bun. She threw on an average t-shirt and her old, fading shorts. As she opened her bedroom door Draco was standing right in front of her.
"Oh. Sorry. I was about to knock."
She laughed. "It's fine." But her heart went into a panic when she realized her hair was still half-hazardly done up with a scrunchie. She quickly let it down, tossing the scrunchie onto her bed. She opened her top drawer and pulled out a regular hair tie, putting her hair up in a pony tail, admitting defeat to her curls.
Draco cleared his throat, handing her the extra shirts. "Oh, right." She tossed them on her bed. "My mom said if we just throw our stuff in the wash she can get around to it tonight." She told him. Draco shook his head, "It's fine, I'll just have my house elves tend to my shirt." Hermione nodded, feeling stupid. "Well then," she said, feeling hopelessly awkward, "We should get going then." She said, reaching to close her bedroom door.
"Hermione."
His voice was firm, almost like he was giving an order. She pulled her hand back and turned around. He looked taller, for some reason, and paler, as though he had just seen a ghost. Hermione stayed quiet. He cleared his throat, his fist tightening around his stained shirt. "I like you."
Hermione's heart pounded in her ears. "I like you too Draco." Her response was just barely audible. Surely he didn't mean what she thought he meant? It would be crazy. Him with someone like her…what did she have to offer? It was so quiet it was a wonder if either of them were breathing.
He cleared his throat again. "More than just as a friend." Hermione couldn't find words. Maybe he was playing a trick. Pulling the whole 'I want to be best friends' deal. Her hair was already tucked behind her ear, but she felt the need to do something with her hands so she tucked it again for good measure. She tried opening her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. Her heart suddenly began to beat very, very fast. What if this was all a trick. Some sort of bet the Slytherins had going on? Who could get a Gryffindor to date them first or something like that. The prize must be pretty enticing, for someone like Draco to invest so much time with someone like her.
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Granger," he chuckled nervously, "Please say something." Hermione felt frozen, and she felt as though she hadn't taken a single breath since he had first said her name. She scanned his face desperately, looking for some sort of sign, but it only sent her into a larger panic. She had been with him long enough to know he was being completely genuine.
"I don't…you can't mean that." She shook her head, remembering Narcissa. She could feel him scanning her face, trying to figure out what she meant. "Draco I…your mom-" he exhaled sharply.
"There it is." His face flashed for a moment. "You don't have to worry about her. I can very well date who I want."
"Draco…" His eyes grew wide and he took a step back.
"I'm sorry. I"ve made you uncomfortable. Let's get back to the party." He pushed past her and quickly made his way down the stairs.
When Draco got to his room all he could do was stare at the blinding orange blanket. He let out a shaky breath. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. "Stupid, so stupid." He fell backwards onto his bed, the fabric of Hermione's father's shirt strangely soft against his skin. Twice now he had tried, and twice she had pulled away. She had one hell of a wall up. Maybe she just doesn't like you. Draco clenched his sheets. His breathing was uneven and his stomach was lurching. Just as he was about to close his eyes his phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart pounded.
July 30 9:48
Hermione: Thank you for coming today :) Sorry your shirt got ruined
Draco smiled to himself.
Draco: No problem
Without thinking, he pushed the send button. Was that too short of a reply? He tossed his phone out of reach, not wanting to think about it. Problem was, she was the only thing he could think about.
A/N: Sorry this took so long to update! Hope you all enjoy and as always thank you for reading!