Disclaimer : You guys already know how much I wish I owned Harry Potter.
Ch. 39
"I really don't know why you haven't given Muggle clothing a go before. You look great!"
Great was an understatement. Draco looked amazing. Not that I would've told him that, of course. I wouldn't have been able to handle the smug grin that would've shadowed his face if I did.
VVVVV
"Oh really, Granger? You know why," I replied hastily as we stepped out of her car. "My mother would never let me live it down." The chilly air bit at every part of me it could reach, and since I was only wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, goose bumps spread over my forearms, spreading the skin tautly over the flesh. Hermione shut her car door hurriedly and made it to my side, murmuring something. Within seconds, pleasurable warmth flooded over me. I looked down at her with appreciation and muttered my thanks. She smiled, and we made our way up the pathway to her door.
I watched her as she fiddled with the keys.
"And what would your father do?" She asked quietly, keeping her focus on slowly slipping the key into the door knob. I was surprised, to say the least. Hermione had never asked about my father so blatantly before. I laughed quietly to myself, not fazed by the bitterness of the sound.
"Beat me with his cane." I smirked wryly.
There was a moment of intense silence, and Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something. I saw her worry the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, before grabbing the door knob and pushing the door open. I nearly laughed again.
The entrance hallway was dark and gloomy, but as soon as Hermione hit the light switch, it came to life. Warmth wafted through air and I closed my eyes. It was strange. I had never felt so comfortable in one's house before. Hell, I'd never even felt this way in my own home. A pan clattered to the floor noisily in the kitchen, and my eyes shot open. Hermione laughed cheerily beside me as she hung her bag on the hook at the back of the door.
"Mum?" She called out, slowly walking to the kitchen. I followed her, silently gazing at the family pictures that rested on the mantelpiece in the sitting room as we passed by.
"In here, darling!" Mrs. Granger called out, her tone just as cheery as Hermione's had been, yet so proper at the same time. A sweet smell wafted into my nostrils as we entered the kitchen. Mrs. Granger was leant over the oven, pulling out a heavy tray of chocolate chip cookies. Immediately, I walked over to help her.
"Thank you, Draco dear." She said, patting my shoulder. Hermione smiled from her spot at the marble island in the middle of the kitchen.
"Not at all, Mrs. Granger." I replied, my Malfoy manners at full height.
"Mum, you made cookies? But we haven't even had lunch yet!" Hermione stated, and something in her tone of reminded me of how she was during school days at Hogwarts. Mrs. Granger clicked her tongue and waved her off.
"Now now, Hermione, where's the fun in that? And do call me Jean, Draco sweetheart."
I smiled and nodded, covering a laugh that threatened to burst in reaction to Hermione's shocked and befuddled face with a cough. She half glared at me when her mum turned around to get two glasses and a carton of milk. Honestly, I had never seen a woman so sweet. She made my mother look like the devil himself, and my mother was nice enough...that was, in pureblood society standards. Of course, Mother had seemed to have grown lenient to almost anything after going through so many Imperius Curses.
Jean set the glasses down along with the milk carton, before pulling on her coat. "Well I'm afraid I've got to be going now. Your father's dealing with that Robby Fenwick boy again. Two cavities and a chipped tooth!" She grimaced, before grabbing a cookie from the tray and rushing out of the kitchen. "I'll see you both later! Behave!" She teased.
"Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Granger." I smiled graciously. She smiled back warmly at me.
"Don't mention it!"
There was a pause before we heard the door shut behind her. Hermione's hands rested loftily on her hips.
"For a dentist, she sure has a sweet tooth."
VVVVV
Switching on the television, I grabbed the remote and sat beside Draco on the couch. He smirked.
"What the ruddy hell?" Draco said, narrowing his eyes at the illuminated television. "How did those people get into that box?"
I laughed, so hard that I felt a chocolate chip from my cookie lodge itself within my throat. As I continued to laugh, Draco stared at the newscaster on the television with disdain. Seeing that I wouldn't stop laughing, he hit me.
"Stop laughing." He grumbled, and I attempted to regain my composure.
"Sorry", I gasped, giggling as I wiped away tears of hilarity away from my face. I had laughed so hard that my face had turned a blotchy red.
"You look like a tomato." Draco retorted, before grabbing another cookie from the plate in front of us and biting into it rather hard. I took a moment to collect myself.
"Sorry." I repeated. "It's just…actually never mind," I said hastily when I saw the nearly murderous look on Draco's face. "It's called a television. Actors and people that are involved in the entertainment business show up on it to broadcast their work. Muggle technology," I added.
Draco scoffed. "You could've just told me that instead of giggling like an idiot."
I looked down at the remnants of cookie in my hand. He was doing it again. Shielding himself with sarcasm and harshness because he felt uninformed.
"Well maybe you should've just let me explain instead of being so rude and hitting me!" I exclaimed, hitting his chest. There was a moment of stunned silence. It had taken me second to realize, but I had hit Draco with my cookie covered hand. I stared down at his chest, where my palm had been. A large smear of crumbs and melted chocolate stood prominently against the red of his brand new shirt. Draco's mouth slacked in shock.
"Draco, oh my god, I'm so sorry –"
But Draco was too quick. Before I had gotten to the end of my sentence, he had crumbled up his own cookie and smashed it against my face.
I stared at him in disbelief, watching the edges of his lips curl up into a victorious smirk. I glanced at the table in front of me, my eyes darting to the cookies the same moment as Draco's. There was a bang, a clatter of the plate toppling over the side of the table, and suddenly, there was war.
Draco pushed me off of the couch as he tried to get away from the bombardment of cookies that I sent his way. He smashed another cookie into my face as an especially melted one landed in his hair.
"Granger, you're going to pay for that!" Draco growled, and before I could protest, he had dragged me off of the floor and onto the couch, pinning my wrists with one hand as he assaulted me with cookies with the other. I kneed him in the stomach, gaining enough time to grab a handful of cookies and crush them against his shirt. I thanked Merlin that there was no milk left, for by the look on his face there was no doubt in my mind that he would've showered me with it. Draco grabbed me by the waist this time, carrying me like I was air and hauling me over the couch. I screamed, and he laughed so hard that I saw tears come out of his eyes. As he brushed them away, I stuck a hand under the couch and retrieved some cookies that had landed there. I stayed quiet, giggling silently to myself.
I listened closely as Draco's laughing came to a halt when he saw that I hadn't come back up. There was a pause, and I heard Draco regain his footing. He leaned over the couch, the poor sod. I crunched up the cookies in my hand, preparing myself. Chocolate dribbled through the creases of my fist, and I waited silently, cookies at the ready.
"Granger? Hermio–agh!" Draco yelled, as I palmed him in the face with the melted cookie remnants. He laughed again, and I crossed over to the front of the couch, pushing him over as he attempted to clear his face of cookie crumbs. Draco laughed as I assaulted him once more, and did something that I thought I would never see him do – raise his hands in defeat. It was then I realized that I was straddling him, and for some reason, it didn't matter. Looking down, I realized the tips of his fingers grazing my hips. My chest heaved quickly from the lack of oxygen at our closeness and from laughing so hard, and although I seemed dazed, I didn't miss the fleeting gaze that Draco sent towards my chest.
Why did I feel so warm?
"That'll teach you not to mess with me." I huffed victoriously, climbing off of him. "I knew you would give up –"
Draco covered my words again with another swift action, flipping us around so that I was laying on the couch, his body towering over mine. "Don't you know me at all?" He quirked, his smirk growing so wide that it was practically a grin.
I slapped his face, not hard, but just enough to hear a faint noise when my fingers came into contact with the side of his cheek. Draco winced theatrically, and I laughed again, observing my work. His shirt was so stained that it was practically ruined, and there were dramatic streaks of chocolate on his face, creating little smudges here and there. He gazed down at me, and I worried my lip.
How was it possible to feel so content with someone? Someone that, regardless of this year, I had hated with such passion that on countless occasions during heated arguments, I had wished the worst upon? The connection between us was inevitable...and it scared me. Draco knew things about me that Harry and Ron overlooked, without me even having to say a word. He knew me so well, I wondered if I knew myself better than he did sometimes. None of it made sense. I didn't know what I wanted. More importantly, I didn't know what I felt.
Draco opened his mouth to say something snarky – I could see it in his eyes – but I didn't give him the chance to. Instead, I settled for brushing my fingertips swiftly against his lips, stopping at where a smudge of chocolate clung to his bottom lip. I wiped it away, silently, before moving my fingers up into his hair, slowly running my hands against the blonde silken strands to remove the bits and pieces of cookie. I didn't look into his eyes, or at his lips for that matter, but instead recollected memories of them from my mind. His eyes, usually a clear grey blue, were probably darkening now, following every trace of my face while wondering what was going on, slate grey and judgmental, yet almost gentle and questioning at the same time.
And his lips. Thin and sardonic during conversation, yet plump and relaxed when he was quiet. Perfect lips, soft and curved like a light rosy hue of a cupids bow. I wanted them against mine, then, at that moment, where everything was tranquil and warm…and to think I had kissed them before…I wanted it again, the electric rush that always hit me whenever his lips brushed against mine, demanding yet lovely at the same time. I wanted the nostalgia back as well. I longed for it, I realized.
I could've done it, you know. Could've kissed him until he had no choice but to pull away from lack of oxygen…but I didn't. I couldn't.
My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, fingertips still at work against his face. I listened, and did nothing else. Draco exhaled softly.
"You know," Draco said quietly, reaching over to brush away what I presumed to be one of the many chocolate chips in my hair, "You're honestly one the strangest, most devious witches I've ever met."
There was a quick yet noisy shift, and my eyes fluttered open again. Draco was standing away from the couch now, and I nearly put my arms around myself to shield me from the loss of his body heat. He turned away from me for a moment, brushing a hand through his hair to be rid of all the crumbs. He muttered a cleaning spell, and immediately, the cookie remnants cleared away, and the room seemed back to normal. I didn't move from my spot on the couch.
"I…I need a shower." Draco muttered, and without another word, he trudged up the steps to his bathroom, leaving me alone. I listened again, until I heard a rush of water from upstairs and the sound of a slamming door.
Sitting upright and looking down at the floor, I saw that crumbs of cookies still remained, scattered about on the table in front of me and on the carpet. His magic had been unfocused.
"Tergeo." I whispered, watching silently as the crumbs clumped together before disappearing completely. With nothing left in me or on the surfaces around me, I buried my face in my hands, listening to the water rush loudly upstairs as the newscaster on the television continued to blare out today's weather forecast.
VVVVV
She had driven us to an ice skating rink, and for the countless time in my life, I couldn't believe she was serious.
"Draco, are you coming?" Hermione asked, removing herself from the car and shutting her door before I could reply back. I took a few more moments to stare at the dashboard, wondering when and how I had learned to tolerate the ridiculously vigorous witch before exiting the car myself.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I muttered sarcastically, earning a smart smack on the arm from Hermione. It didn't matter, because seconds later, my hand rested comfortably in hers, soothing the dull ache and igniting a flushing feeling of warmth in my stomach.
Claire's words still rang freshly in my head. It had been three days since.
"Trust me, its going to be fun."
Ruddy Hell.
VVVVV
Everywhere, children were giggling. I felt like an idiot, tying up my skates, standing out in stark contrast to children that barely reached past my knee. I had always been tall, but being surrounded by so many kids, I felt like a bloody mountain troll!
"Hello, Mrs. Freeman!" Hermione exclaimed, waving at a plump, kind looking woman managing the concessions stand. As soon as we had walked in, Hermione had been bombarded by a flock of 'hello's!' and 'long time no see's!' causing me to ask if she came here often. She had responded by saying that she assisted beginner's classes here during the summer. That explained the beams that had spread over half of the children's faces as soon as they had caught sight of her.
After finishing her conversation with the woman, Hermione walked back to me, holding two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate. She handed me mine before looking away and giggling. I glowered at her.
"What?"I asked, and Hermione gestured towards my skates. She shook her head.
"Silly, Draco." She fussed, before wordlessly leaning down and untying my skates. "You've tied them all wrong!"
As much as I wanted to laugh at how business like she was, I pushed her hand away. "I'm not a child," I muttered. "Go do that to all of your little friends."
Hermione smirked wordlessly and set down her cup of hot chocolate on the bench beside mine. "Suit yourself." She said, and without another word, led herself onto the ice.
"Oh no you don't!" I grinned, standing up and wobbling a few steps forward. I felt like a two year old. It was bloody embarrassing! Here I was, six feet tall and struggling to stand while little Muggle children flitted about the ice as if they were dancing on sodding clouds? Making sure no one was looking; I slid my wand through the sleeve of my sweater and pointed it at the skates.
"Motorus Revervo."
Instantly, the boots aligned themselves perfectly on the ice and glided forward. I smirked, gaining speed. Pretty soon, I was doing perfect laps around the rink. Hermione caught up to me on my second lap, practically racing me. I shot her a mischievous grin.
"Pretty good at this, aren't you?" She asked, her eyes shifting curiously to my gliding skates. I gave her the smuggest look I could, shoving my hands nonchalantly into my pockets as we skated along.
"Many winter's of practice at the lake behind the Manor," I shrugged. Hermione nodded before pulling a swift turn and cutting me off. She glared at me comically, trying her hardest to look disapproving.
"Please don't tell me this is what I think it is?" Hermione sighed, and I smirked.
"What are you talking about, Granger?"
Hermione's hands rose loftily to perch on her hips, a bad habit I'd noticed. She also bit her nails when she was nervous or thinking about something….
"I know a gliding charm when I see one." Hermione smirked back, and I opened my mouth to retort, but she was faster.
"Expelliarmus!" She whispered furtively, and I felt the familiar sharp whoosh of air as my wand darted out of my sleeve and landed discreetly between her fingers. Hermione casually slipped it her boot leg for good measure. As hard as I tried to hide it, my jaw slacked, and my eyes widened at her audacity. I supposed I looked like a gaping fish.
Hermione grinned cheekily. "Well aren't you going to fight me for it?"
I paused for a long moment, bringing a hand up to lean against the railing. "Well…I don't usually hit girls…but this is an exception."
Hermione's small pause was all the time I needed. I lunged myself at her, slamming her into the railing before beginning to tickle her mercilessly. Hermione's gasps of laughter filled my ears.
"Going to give me my wand back now?" I challenged her, smirking as her legs went weak from laughter. I leaned down to retrieve my wand, but she kicked my hand, regained her footing and shoved me out of the way.
"Not quite!" Hermione heaved, hurriedly skating away. I regained my footing moments later, wiping shards and flakes of ice off of my jeans. This was the way it always was, a chase of cat and mouse. Skating after her, a thought sparked my interest. I thought of Blaise, Pansy, and of my parents. I wondered how they would feel, watching me chase after a girl that I shouldn't have become friends with because of something as silly as blood status.
But that meant I had changed, hadn't it?
Before, I would've never called something as important as blood status silly. I would've called Hermione a Mudblood, scum of the earth, a thief of magic…and my father would've been proud. But Hermione had taught me something throughout the year.
A true friend didn't care about your past prejudices, no matter how mean spirited or unfortunate they were. It was incredibly corny, but true. I didn't need my father to tell me what or who I needed in my life. He no longer had the fucking right.
Not wanting to get distracted from the chase, I chose to focus on the curly haired girl zipping in and out of my vision. Hermione turned and smirked, twirling my wand casually between her fingers. I scowled, hid a smile, and sped up.
Bloody Gryffindors.
VVVVV
Hello lovelies! So, what did you guys think of this chapter? I think it's a lot different than the others because this one is a downright fluff ball! A lot of people requested that Hermione take Draco ice skating during the holidays, and I gladly obliged! I hope you all enjoyed it! As you can see, Draco is starting to create even more of a distance between his father and himself, instead choosing to get extremely close to Hermione ;D! Gosh, that cookie fight was fun to write (sorry for being the biggest tease in the world! How about another batch of questions?
How many chapters do you think are left until Draco and Hermione have their long awaited get together kiss?
Hermione and Dean?
Anything else you'd like Dramione to do during the Holidays?
What do you think of Hermione's parents and of how they perceive Draco?
That's all for now! Please feel free to leave a review, ideas, or constructive criticism! Love to all! X