It's Thursday again, so here's another chapter. I hope you like it so far...

I hope you're all keeping your hopes up in these uninspiring lock-down-times!

Stay safe out there, no matter where you are.

HBSJ

Chapter 9

Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful and Draco was itching to get outdoors.

Every morning for the past week, Draco had gone on a gruelling ride before working with Granger in the stables all day long. Indoors.

Stables were all well and good but he preferred to be either playing polo outside or pounding down the countryside in full gallop. That was when he truly felt alive, with his every muscle working to keep control of the animal below him.

And now, thanks to the Weasley-girl's tardiness, he would have to spend another week in there when she finally chose to arrive.

He had to admit that he was more than a little miffed that she hadn't shown yet. He had contemplated more than once to just boot her but that would mean that he had to boot Granger too and he was very reluctant to do that.

Draco dressed and went down to breakfast with his parents. He had taken breakfast in his rooms all week in order to focus on his task of teaching. He usually did that in the first couple of weeks of his polo apprenticeships.

When he walked in, his mother stood to greet him. His father on the other hand, stayed seated with the newspaper in front of him. "Darling,-" His mother said. "-we have missed you these past few days."

Draco kissed her cheek and nodded at his father. "You know I have been busy mother. Miss Granger have arrived."

His mother pursed her lips slightly. "Yes, we have learned that only one of your students have deemed it suitable to be punctual. I must say, this does not bode well for miss Weasley."

He just shrugged slightly. "It depends on whether she can catch up to miss Granger. She is talented."

At this, his father's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline and he cast a suspicious glance at Draco. "You have only ever said that about three other players Draco."

Draco didn't say anything. It was a cursed situation. But his mother did. "And they all play professionally now of course. With the Riddle team, right Draco?"

He fought to hide his anger. All of that work. All of that training, encouragement and direction to build a great team was all down the drain. Taken from him in one fell swoop with promises of lavish travels all around the world and a six-figure salary. Each. Draco had never had a chance in hell to compete with that.

He'd thought that they were all friends. That he would never have to consider anything like Riddle. Fool that he was.

He ground out his short reply. "Yes."

His mother's eyes narrowed at him. She was a shrewd woman who saw much more than she was given credit for. And he was quite certain that he would never be able to lie successfully to his mother. She would always see through at least part of his fibs.

"Draco,-" She paused, looking thoughtfully at him. "-why don't you join us for breakfast. I'm sure you would want to go down to the pool house on this fine morning."

He smiled. He would like that. In fact, he would love going for a swim and just relax for a few hours before going to the stables to exercise his favourite ponies. "I would mother, thank you for the suggestion." He sat and began to scoop eggs and bacon onto his plate.

She smiled mysteriously over her dainty cup of tea. "Well, I'm sure you will agree that mother knows best."

"Of course mother." He placated and proceeded to eat.

His father chose this opportune moment to enter the conversation. "Will you be joining us as the Longbottom soiree this evening Draco? Lady Augusta specifically requested your presence and she assured me that you have replied in the affirmative."

Draco froze with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. He wanted to groan. He did not want to go. But such a display of emotions did not belong before his parents.

Lady Augusta Longbottom, the Dowager Countess of Exeter was not to be refused. If she expected his presence, he would have to go. Even he knew without a doubt that he had not answered yes. Luckily, the Longbottom estate was just an hour's drive from the manor.

She had a grandson, Neville, whom he had only met a handful of times. They had gone to different schools, which meant that they knew of each other but didn't actually know each other. It was strange, he knew his Debrett's by heart which meant that he knew the surname of every aristocrat in the British isles.

He cocked his head at his father. What was he planning? Lucius Malfoy never did anything without an ulterior motive. But he had to answer all the same. "Yes, I will be joining you. In my own car though." He resumed eating.

His mother pursed her lips in disapproval. "You cannot drive if you drink anything Draco. We will have our chauffeur and you can easily fit into the Range Rover."

He smiled affably. "Then I will not drink anything mother."

Now his mother looked slightly upset about something. "Are you so put out with us that you cannot bear to be in a confined vehicle with us for two hours, Draco?"

His smiled tuned apologetic. "Indeed I am not mother. I just want to be able to leave before the matchmakers descend upon me."

She scoffed. "Oh poo, you are well aware that I am scheming with those same women."

He winked at her. "Also an excellent reason for me not to over-imbibe and have the free option to leave whenever I have need of it." She smiled reluctantly and he knew that she was not offended.

His father however, had followed the conversation with unusual interest. "The Bulstrodes will be there Draco."

Draco wanted to roll his eyes. "Look father, I like Millicent but she is practically a man. In fact, I believe she is undergoing treatments just to that effect."

His father scoffed. "I hardly believe that is correct and it is moot anyway. She is an acceptable match."

He couldn't believe that his father would press this point. He looked to his mother who had the same disbelief on her face. And of course, she wouldn't keep quiet. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, eleventh Duke of Devon, what on earth are you thinking?"

Finally his father put down his paper. "I should think it was obvious. Draco may be young yet but he needs to think about his prospects." Draco looked between them as if it was a tennis match.

Narcissa pursed her lips in disapproval. "You cannot think to align us with that family. Millicent may be a lovely girl but she it not for our Draco. Indeed, I think that she is not for a man at all." His father was about to interrupt but she held up her hand. "Enough Lucius." His father's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "You were the one who didn't want Draco to consider miss Granger or Miss Wesley as possible prospects and now you are requiring him to consider Lady Bulstrode. Am I correct?"

She gave him a piercing stare and he cleared his throat. Draco watched the interaction with avid interest. His mother merely waited, glaring at her husband.

Finally, his father replied. "You are correct." But it came out hesitant and with less bravado than Draco suspected that his father would have preferred.

His mother's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then I would suggest that you let Draco choose for himself." She paused and then continued with a rather surprising level of venom in her tone. "As we agreed."

His father knew the battle was lost and hid behind his newspaper again. "As you wish dear."

Ever the lady, his mother turned to him with a beaming smile. "You see Draco? All will be well. I have it in hand."

He smirked, he couldn't help it. "I thank you mother. What would I do without you?"

She was evidently pleased with his praise. "Yes my darling, what indeed."

The soiree was as boring as he had expected.

On the drive there he had played nothing but bass tracks, letting the smooth sounds of the electronic beats lull him into a state of utter calm. And that calm had come necessary to endure an evening of simpering misses and determined mamas.

To his happy astonishment, it was Bulstrode who came to his rescue. Or in reality, took pity on him.

Millicent Bulstrode had officially become Mark Bulstrode.

And Mark Bulstrode had a completely different bearing than Millicent Bulstrode had ever had. Where Millicent had been sulky and awkward, Mark was cheerful and confident. He had found his true self and it shone from within.

He had been given a chance to be himself completely and his parents, after having recovered from the initial shock of it all, had accepted him just as he was. It was so rare in their life and Draco, with his innate confidence and the swagger born of his birthright, found himself jealous of Mark's glorious outlook on life.

In fact, they were currently in the process of making certain that the Bulstrode title went to their son, Mark and not to the distant cousin three times removed who had been heir apparent for years.

"So, here you are trying to brood yourself out of being attacked from that horde." Mark motioned to the whispering crowds eying them furtively from across the room.

Draco turned his back to them and rolled his eyes. "Brood, no. But disgruntled, yes. I was tricked into coming tonight."

Mark chuckled. "By whom?"

"My parents of course. They tricked me into coming, knowing I couldn't refuse them." It was just like them. When he had arrived, he'd known instantly that Lady Augusta had no idea if he would join them or not and that it didn't bother her either way.

"That sounds exactly like them."

A tall man approached and Draco's eyes widened. "You?"

The man nodded and they shook hands. "Neville Longbottom, Earl of Exceter and apprentice at Ollivander's Tailor."

Draco looked at the man in disbelief. "I knew I'd seen you somewhere before. Why on earth are you apprenticing at a tailor? You are the lord of the manor."

Neville shrugged, clearly unperturbed. "I was bored. The estates basically manage themselves and my grandmother takes care of every detail." He shrugged. "She likes it." He leaned closer. "Plus, its an excuse to get out of the house every day."

"I couldn't agree more." This from Mark in a jovial tone. "I've taken up golfing. It's very relaxing."

Draco grinned at them both. Unfortunately, he happened to do it in the direction of most of the unmarried ladies of the British aristocracy and they descended on him like vultures.

It had taken him another two hours to extradite himself from his mother, her friends and their daughters. Especially the Countess of Creighton and her daughter, Imogen. They had acted like leeches and only blatant rudeness got him away. Both Mark and Neville had made themselves scared in melee, the traitors.

He had invited Mark and Neville to come by whenever they wanted. They seemed like good men and he would like to get to know them better, though Mark had hesitated when Draco had mentioned that their former school friends would be there. It was up to him of course, but Draco had ensured him that he would be welcome.

His car flew down the back roads of southern England. He was very eager to get home but he had no plans. So what to do?

At an intersection he fished out his phone and was about to ring Harry, when someone rang him. Blaise.

He picked up and said nothing. All he could hear was Blaise's mirthful chuckle. "I would have thought you'd be drowned by eligible ladies at this point of the evening." There was music in the background but Blaise could be anywhere in the world. Literally.

Draco couldn't help himself, he barked a laugh. "I'd rather have been drowned in mercury." He said dryly.

Blaise laughed. "Well, I'd have taken the girls any day but I guess we're just different that way." Draco could just imagine his shrug. "We'll be there tomorrow by the way."

Draco froze. "We, as in..?" He trailed off, hoping against hope that it would just be Blaise and Theo.

"Oh all of us, of course. We ditched the Longbottom soiree for dinner and drinks at the Shard but we're bored and I'm always missing the Duchess."

He said it like a caress and it made Draco shudder. "Please do not talk that way about my mother. Ever." Draco didn't know how to make it plainer. He found it very disconcerting that Blaise could charm every female around him so thoroughly. Draco fumed silently.

Blaise paused. Draco could hear him shuffling something. And then, "Oh, you wanted a reply? Yeah, not happening mate. Deal with it."

Draco huffed out a breath. "Fuck you then."

It seemed as if Blaise could care less about his mood because he continued undaunted. "I just called to tell you we're coming, you grumpy fuck."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll get your usual rooms ready."

Just when Draco thought they were done, Blaise continued in his most conniving voice. "And where, pray tell, have you installed Hermione Granger? Is her room next to mine? Or could you arrange it?"

Draco had to work to keep his temper in check. Hard. Blaise always knew how to push his buttons. "I regret to inform you that you are hereby uninvited."

Blaise howled with laughter. "This is going to be brilliant mate! See you tomorrow!" And he hung up, leaving Draco staring at the phone in disbelief. He needed new friends.

He was way too noticeable about Granger. It seemed as if Blaise saw and heard his every thought and it was… unappealing.

He hated being that obviously transparent, especially since he had little to no clue about what he thought about her, how he felt about her and what the hell he was going to do about it.

He probably had twelve hours, maybe less, before they arrived. And by then he needed to sort out his priorities.

Fuck.

Hermione was sitting on Harry's comfy sofa. Well, she ought to sit on it but she was basically lying down on her side, trying to balance her drink on her hip. It wasn't going well but she would have given herself an A for effort.

She just might have been a bit drunker than she should be. She was still sore everywhere but it had reduced to a dull ache and the margaritas were helping. Every drink made her feel more cheerful and light and she just couldn't bring herself to say no another drink from Harry. Because why not drink more?

She never got drunk. She drank, sure, but she never got drunk. She hated the feeling of not being in control. But she didn't have to be in control now. She was with Harry, her bestest friend in the world and he would never let anything happen to her. So she kept on drinking the lovely drinks that Harry kept on making for her.

He really was a good friend. The bestest really.

She looked around the room. It had gone fuzzy around the edges but she could still see it all somewhat clearly. It was an open space but the brilliance was the pool. In fact, the pool was rather amazing and the sunset through the clouds had been beautiful. Breath taking in fact.

They'd been swimming twice earlier and she was endlessly comfortable on the couch in Harry's fluffy red bathrobe. Why he had a red bathrobe was a bit of a mystery but really, Harry was a bit of a mystery in and of himself. Her thoughts were jumbled but there was something about Harry's parents that was odd or out of place in a way.

She shook her head slightly but it made her dizzy. Harry's mystery or no-mystery was too much of a mystery for her incoherent brain.

She sighed loudly and closed her eyes but it didn't help with the spinning. It made it so much worse. Ugh.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" It was Harry, he sounded concerned for her and she groaned miserably. She could feel the bile rising slowly up her throat.

Shite. She was going to have a long night.

Hermione's head felt as though it was about to split open right down the middle. Her entire being felt beaten and bruised and she winced when she remembered how hard she'd been hugging Harry's toilet at one point (or several points) during the night.

She'd had no inclination to return to her own spacious room in the Dowager House. In her present condition, she wasn't even certain if she could walk.

That whole plan to get drunk seemed like a spectacularly shitty decision in hindsight.

"Good morning sleepyhead. What is your opinion on smoothies this fine morning?" It was Harry, being his own annoying and cheerful self.

She groaned in reply.

He grinned. "Fine, suit yourself. But I'm making breakfast anyway."

She rolled halfway over on the sofa (was she really still there? Or maybe back there?) and ignored him.

"You know, all you need it great music and a swim before breakfast. It does wonders!" He was so chippy that Hermione could cheerfully have beaten his face in. If she could move properly.

"Go away!" She sounded so miserable that he had the audacity to chuckle. Chuckled!

"I will not!" He sounded indignant, but she knew him better than that.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her up. She had not expected that. "Harry!" But he didn't reply, he dragged her with him and pushed her, unceremoniously she might add, into the freezing pool.

She shrieked.

Loudly.

Because what else could she have done. Unfortunately, that action ensured that her mouth was open when she hit the water and went under.

She emerged, coughing and spluttering. "What the fuck Harry?!" This time she really was cross. Being pushed into a glacial pool with a raging hangover could do that to a person.

He looked at her thunderous expression tried in vain to clamp his lips together. She glared and he just exploded into laughter. So heartily, that she couldn't stop the quirk of her own lips. He then divested himself of his own shirt and cannonballed into the pool, spraying water everywhere, especially on her.

Their subsequent splash-fight was as epic as it was cleansing for Hermione. The exertion helped and so did the laughter. Because she just couldn't help it.

"Fuck you stink!" It was the unmistakable sound of one of his best friends.

"Well, good-fucking-morning to you too." Draco drawled from his bed. What time was it anyway?

"Did they rub up against you yesterday or something? Damn." Blaise had arrived, obviously. And he was walking in a large arch around the place where Draco had ditched his clothes the previous evening.

"Probably, but who gives a shite anyway." Draco couldn't care much about it. He only hoped that they could get the fumes out down in the laundry.

"Get up." Blaise commanded but Draco was annoyed and sleepy. And he felt contrary, so he just didn't reply.

But Blaise was a schemer if there ever was one. "I spoke to Harry this morning. He's making breakfast for all of us. It seems like they had an exciting night at the pool house yesterday."

Draco's suspicions were instantly on high alert but he forcibly stayed in his current position. He had, after all, resolved yesterday to be less transparent in his fascination with Granger. "Who had an exciting night?"

"Harry and Granger of course. Harry tells me he got her drunk on those lethal margaritas of his." Blaise watched him carefully and Draco wanted to scream with frustration. He couldn't just run down there. He had to take his time as if he wasn't desperate to go there.

He got up slowly. "When are we going?" He asked as casually as he could manage.

Blaise shrugged. "As soon as you're ready. Harry muttered something about dumping her in the pool if she didn't wake up soon."

They both smirked. Harry had done that with both of them more than once. He insisted that it was the very best way to wake up. Each of them had their doubts, but they were used to it. Granger was not. How Draco would love to see that.

He showered at a deliberately measured pace and soon enough they had gathered Theo from his room and were on their way to the pool house.

"Does this thing move faster?" This from Theo in the back. "I'm fucking starving."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a fucking golf cart mate. This is the top speed." Theo snorted so Draco continued. "If you want to walk, be my guest." Theo glared and him and Draco grinned. He was hungry too but it was always entertaining to piss off Theo before they'd had breakfast, he was always starving.

"Fuck off." Theo muttered sulkily and turned back to watching the manor shrinking behind them.

They arrived to a horror-filled shriek and all three men ran from the cart and into the small house. They arrived just in time to see Harry cannonball into the pool and then starting a water fight with Granger.

And Draco couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

She was in the shallow end of the pool, wearing only a swimsuit. The water lapped deliciously at the bottom of her perfect breasts and she was jumping up and down in a mesmerizing pattern.

"Damn." This from Blaise.

Theo shrugged. Draco couldn't see it but he could feel it. "I was going to say double D's but its not is it? It's a perfect B."

Draco rounded on him. "Don't you fucking dare talk about her like that." Draco hissed menacingly and he saw Blaise give him that look. The look that said quite plainly that Draco was not as mysterious as they knew he'd like to be.

Theo held his hands up in surrender. "Fine then. I've no interest in her anyway but you can't stop me from appreciating a scandalously pleasant view."

Draco scowled and Blaise intervened in a bored voice. "Now that we've got that out of the way, why don't we announce our presence? They don't know we're here."

Blaise was right, of course and Draco strode out into the glaring sun to catch the attention of the pair in the pool.

It was the second time she shrieked. And then she plopped down into the water to hide. She hid under the water.

What the hell?

Harry grinned, it seemed to be almost permanently affixed to his face and his arms went wide. "You came! Brilliant, breakfast will be right up." He got out of the pool and went, soaking wet, to the kitchen to greet Blaise and Theo, who were already sampling the bacon shamelessly.

Draco sat down to wait. It didn't take long but it seemed like forever as he waited for her to appear. But at one point, she did run out of air. Slowly she emerged like some sort of water nymph and she took his breath away. She was… He blinked. He didn't know how to describe her.

"Hi." She sounded breathless and happy and lust slammed into him like a brick. His filthy mind were already conjuring all sorts of images of just how he could render her breathless and happy.

He forced his fantasies from his mind with considerable effort. "Hi there. How's your head?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Better now. I didn't believe Harry but a being in the pool helps." She regarded him for a moment, measuring him to some invisible scale. "Do you want to join me?"

Yes! Very much so. He grit his teeth and quickly quashed the thrills surging through him. "Yes, thank you." His voice wasn't trembling overmuch. He had resolved to remain aloof. And if he couldn't do that, then he should at least seem to be aloof with her, hard as it was.

Harry, Blaise and Theo stood inside, each with a piece of bacon in their hands. They were all watching the two people swimming in the pool with avid interest.

"What do you think?" Blaise asked to the room at large.

Theo snorted. "Please. He wants to shag her. No doubts there."

Blaise uncharacteristically rolled his eyes. "Well, that's a given but it seems like more."

Harry nodded. "I think it is more."

"So what do we do?" Theo turned towards them.

Blaise and Harry looked at each other and Blaise said. "We help her win over the Duchess. She's the only one who can convince the Duke. They'll never have a chance in hell otherwise."

And so they plot on... Please let me know what you think!

Also, here's a few fun-facts about my writing:

My fics have almost 600,000 reads and I've published over 300,000 words in here. That is completely insane.

So thank you very much for reading, fave'ing, following and commenting. You are all amazing!

HBSJ