The week was full of ups and downs. Hermione was complimented several times on her hard work by several different people. She had tons of paperwork that she diligently started filing the proper places and still managed her usual duties for Draco. She worked hard and long hours. If it weren't for calls from Draco on the phone for reminders to take lunches and breaks, she wouldn't have.
His excuse was mild at best. He didn't want to walk with his cane, so she had to escort him to lunch or outside for some air. It gave them the opportunity to spend time together that they weren't experiencing now that they were at the office. Hermione was growing thankful for these moments as the days improved toward the end of the week. She didn't realize how much she missed their banter and their conversations between work.
Hermione had set up his office to be entirely accessible to him and his lack of sight. The printer was braille. The phone had her number on speed dial followed by Regulus and Zabini. Even his computer was simplified as she set up the software and hardware for him to at least access his emails. Draco didn't understand just how beautiful it would be to be so independent in his office until he was.
Soon their working relationship was a steady flow of emails, phone conversations and her appearance when things needed his approval. It was almost normal, and Draco was relieved to feel less handicapped and more self-sufficient by the week's end.
Draco had just finished up his final reports for the day, his computer repeating what he was writing in a monotone fashion. He did happen to miss her voice, but it was livable. Sending it off, he flexed his shoulders and sighed. He was looking forward to his session with Flint after work; he was stiff.
"Malfoy, are you finished up?" Hermione's voice entered the room.
"Yes, just did. Ready to go to my place? I hope you are packed," he declared, and she exhaled.
"Draco, don't you think it is silly. We are both going to the party tomorrow. Shouldn't I just stay home tonight?" she said, and he could hear the discomfort in her voice.
"No, don't be silly, we can go together instead of running to come get me," he replied and stood up.
She was shuffling her feet, a new sign of hers; she was feeling anxious. "Alright."
"Just this weekend, Hermione. If you don't enjoy yourself I will not ask you again," he reminded her, and she huffed a deep breath.
He felt her arm coil around his as she assisted him. "Okay, Draco," she breathed, and his lips curled.
"You know, for a Gryphem you are quite afraid of actually enjoying yourself," he teased, causing her to snort.
"I enjoy myself plenty when I want to," she reminded him.
He chuckled as he heard the elevator doors open. "I remember very well. I remember that entire night with vivid detail."
She was silent again as the elevator shifted under them. It was always a curiosity of his to really know what she thought when her mouth stayed quiet. Was she thinking about what had happened? Was she dreading this weekend because she came to her senses? He wasn't genuinely sure because he could not see her reactions.
"The next day was nice," she sighed, and he internally wiped sweat from his brow.
"Yes, but you were still running through a roller coaster of emotions. I wasn't about to take advantage of that," Draco admitted, and her hand tightened on his arm.
"That isn't very Anguis of you," she snickered as the elevator dinged and the doors sounded.
"If you weren't important to my wellbeing I would have," his voice was low.
Hermione shuffled them from the building before they spoke again. "Wellbeing?" she finally asked.
Draco hemmed and slid her hand down to his. "Yes, my wellbeing, Granger. No one makes this feel the way you do, and that says something." He declared, and she squeezed his hand lightly.
"I hate that you understand these things, Draco. It makes it harder not to chance it."
The Malfoy liked that about her. He enjoyed that even if she had reservations about what was to happen or might happen, she voiced it. The guessing was minimal in regards to her doubts, which he wasn't sure was her way of helping him understanding better or abetting him see what he couldn't on her face. He may ponder about what her mind ran through, but if it was severe, she did vocalize it.
"Well, can we take things in measure? I don't mind," he voiced after she helped him in the car.
Her door sounded, and he heard her suit graze the leather seat. "Possibly. Let's get you home, and I want to sit in the spa for a bit. If I am stuck at your house, I mind as well utilize it." She declared, turning on the car.
"Sounds like a decent start. I have a session with Flint," he grumbled, and the car swayed.
They were on the road before too long. "Draco, I am staying in my own room," she told him.
"Alright," he replied, finding the knob to roll down the window.
"I mean it," she reaffirmed.
Draco exhaled heavily. "Yes, I heard you. However, if you change your mind, I am willing to share," he snickered.
"I won't," she clipped.
"You might," he voiced, running a hand through his hair.
Hermione did not vocalize her objection again. She resorted to turning on the radio, and Draco let a lopsided smile reach his lips. It was going to be a good weekend, regardless of what happens.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
She was sitting in the spa and leaning against the edge reading one of her favorite books. It was a comfortable feeling as the songbirds were finishing up their melodies for the day and flying over the open skylights. It made it so much more comforting to look up and see the vast estate and its greenery. Hermione didn't want to admit it, but she was growing fond of this place.
A week away made her miss having lunch out on the porch. Long for the delightful sounds of the nightingales around the time, she would leave work. The woman would even have to confess; she missed seeing how happy her son was here. It was a paradise and one that they were plucked from the masses and placed into without notification.
"Well, I told her that she, as maid of honor, had ta do it anyway," Flint's voice entered the space when the door swung open.
She had never seen Draco post workout. He came in with jersey shorts and a stretched shirt, but that wasn't new. What was a new detail, was the sweat the pooled on the shirt over his chest. His sheen skin from working hard. He was… stimulating.
"Don't push her too hard, remember she isn't used to the Weasleys," Draco murmured.
Flint turned to Hermione. "Unless you want an eyeful, Granger, I suggest you press your nose in your book." He raised his voice and Hermione's cheeks tinted.
"Don't mind her, Marcus, just act like she isn't there," Draco snickered, placing down his cane.
The Malfoy then proceeded to pull off his shirt, and Hermione turned around if only to hide the heat building on her face. She had seen him shirtless before, what was her problem! Grabbing her book again, she had turned completely away from them and heard the rest of their clothes fall. Draco's cane sounded on the tile a few times before little splashing of water was heard.
"I understand that, but you know my wife. She is a bit of the drama queen. I think she is jealous that they're havin' a bigger wedding that we did. Not that I blame her, her dad was such a tightwad about our marriage." Flint's voice echoed again.
"So then pay for a holiday while Penny and Anna are at Hogwarts. Take her to Bali or even the Bahamas. You cannot tell me I don't pay you enough for a week in the Caribbean." Draco growled, and Hermione turned her page, hardly able to focus on her book now.
"I suppose. The wedding isn't until November. We can spare a week," Marcus mused and hemmed. "How was work this week?"
Draco grunted. "It was work. Actually, I felt a bit more normal than I have in some time. It was nice to talk rubbish with men who are inferior to me." His voice was full of sarcasm at the last sentence.
"Always a bloody charmer. How did your mother take it?"
"Miserable. She had spent so much time helping take care of me that she doesn't know what to do when I am working. I know her and Severus spend time together when he isn't at the office, but I think she is lonely for something to care for. I might need to buy her a Great Dane or Poodle if she stays that way."
Hermione put down her book and glanced over. "Sounds like a great idea. Or have some fucking kids as I told you to do. Adopt. Foster. Something. Give her some grandchildren like she has been begging for years." Marcus finished and smirked over at her. "Or you can volunteer, Granger. I am sure your kids would be perfect for Narcissa to dote on."
Draco chuckled and waved him off. "Don't hassle her about that. If she wants to, she can. I am sure my mother would absolutely die of excitement."
Hermione hid her face behind her book. "It's alright, Granger. You don't need to admit it yet." Flint paused. "Hey, Malfoy, you shag her yet? She was undressing you with her eyes earlier."
"No, not that I haven't tried," Draco declared and exhaled.
Hermione snorted and turned around. "Last I checked you said no," she grumbled and frowned.
Draco chuckled and sighed. "I am thankful this week is over. I forgot what it was like to be out and enjoy work, but it is nice to be home."
"Who wouldn't want to live here. The place is incredible," Marcus hemmed and splashed a little. "I have some news, I haven't told anyone yet. Daph is three months pregnant. We didn't want to tell anyone, but doc says she looks good. We might be able to get a son after all."
"Congratulations, Flint," Hermione exclaimed and smiled over at them.
"I would hug you, but you are naked," Draco snickered, and Marcus belted out a stream of laughter.
Hermione put her book aside and climbed out of the spa. "Malfoy, you want me to ask Ramsey to pop some bubbly for you?" She asked as she reached for her towel.
"That would be very generous of you, Granger. Are you going to be available to drink some with us?" Draco asked as she wrapped her towel around her.
"I suppose. I need to get out of this suit first," she declared, and Draco's head snapped toward Flint.
"Is she wearing the black one without a cover?" he hissed, and Marcus chuckled.
"Oh, yes. And might I say, if she were an apple and I were single… I'd bite it."
The woman snorted and picked up her book. "Take a good look, Flint. It will be the only time you see me like this."
"I'd give Draco my eyes if I could. I am sure you would find a use of the spa or redefine why this is called a plunging pool."
Hermione walked across the room, ignoring her blush. "Well, that is if he doesn't lose his nerve." She retorted and left.
Draco bit down on her challenge. "She has no idea who she is taunting," The Malfoy growled.
"I would shag her to pieces, Malfoy. Granger just wants to get a rise out of you. Don't play nice if she isn't going to." Flint murmured, and Draco nodded.
"I don't think I will if that is indeed how she is going to play it," Draco sneered as he scratched his chin.
"You have a plan then?"
The Malfoy bobbed his head. "I do. How do you feel about helping a blind man out?"
"Sure, just tell me the plan, and I will help. Just like old times," Marcus snickered.
"Well, this time I intend to do more than rip her tights," Draco hissed and leaned forward. "This is what I need…" and the plotting began.