Crookshanks wound his way around Hermione's ankles as she stepped over the threshold of her townhouse, his usual greeting after a long day at work. She picked him up by the middle, kissing the top of his head as she slid her shoes off and headed towards the kitchen. She was in desperate need of a cup of tea after spending all day treating a wing full of freshly eighteen year old witches for portkey-sickness after returning from a trip to Greece.
Hermione tripped over something on her way to the kitchen, scoffing in disgust as she recognised the offending object. Ron had been owling her almost weekly to ask if she'd seen his left slipper; apparently he'd packed in such a hurry that he missed one and he wasn't in the market for a new pair.
She picked up the worn and smelly slipper between her forefinger and thumb, taking it to her window ledge where her owl Ludo was perched.
"Ludo, deliver this to Ron Weasley, please. If you happen to drop it on the way, it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen."
Ludo took the slipper in his claw and flapped off into the sky, Hermione already feeling like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. He would have no reason to owl her any more.
With a flick of her wand, Hermione put the kettle on to boil for a cup of tea, ready to relax from her busy day. Just as she was about to pour a cup, the sound of her fire place whooshing to life filled her eyes as a green glow came down the hallway. Moments later, her best friend appeared in front of her.
"Harry, what are you doing here?"
"Just thought I'd pop in on my way home for a chat, if you're not busy, that is."
"I was just about to sit down with a cup of tea, would you like one?"
"Please," Harry nodded as Hermione retrieved a second mug and poured another tea for Harry. Harry sat awkwardly at the breakfast bar, looking into his cup instead of at Hermione.
"So, er, how have you been? Anything new?" he asked, trying to be casual.
"Nothing new, I suppose. Just busy with work and my research, I've got a second group of participants starting the potion trial next week, so I've been trying to make sure I'm familiar with all of their cases before we begin."
Harry nodded, only half-listening to Hermione. "That's great. Nothing you want to tell me? Nothing… personal happen lately?"
Hermione furrowed her brow. "What are you trying to say?"
Harry sighed, still looking into his tea. "I saw the picture on the front of The Daily Prophet today. Bit hard to miss, actually, watching you snog Malfoy like that."
Hermione gulped. She had been hoping to tell her friends before the picture was published, but although the devil worked hard, Rita Skeeter worked harder.
"You saw that, huh," she said slowly, turning to face away from Harry as not to give her face away.
"Malfoy, Hermione? Really? When?"
Hermione shrugged, still looking away from Harry. "I don't know, it just… happened." Yes, it just happened, and Hermione had definitely not been expecting that garden conversation but rather an execution squad when she was invited to Nott Estate.
"But… how? I just don't understand. And I definitely don't believe Rita Skeeter's rubbish about you two being high school friends who reconnected over a worthy cause, because I was there, Hermione. You and I both remember that night at Malfoy Manor and how he did nothing. That's not what someone who likes you does," Harry said, becoming increasingly frustrated.
Hermione had no words, she hadn't expected him to sound this disappointed. Surprised, yes, but not disappointed. She let the air hang in the room between them before Harry spoke again.
"Ginny is furious at you," he said more quietly.
"I was going to tell you, I swear," Hermione said meekly, turning slowly to face him again. "I didn't know it was going to be front page news like this."
"She's more furious for the same reason I am, rather than being the last to find out apparently. Although she's rather angry about that too. Some warning would have been nice, I guess."
Hermione squinted her eyes in anger. "I'm a grown woman who can decide who she wants to date, I don't need you to pick my boyfriends for me like some kind of pureblood arranged marriage," she spat out, crossing her arms across her chest.
"I just wish it was a better choice," Harry responded, running his hand through his messy hair, making it stand up on it's end.
"Like Ron? Everyone thought he was the best choice and look where it landed us."
Harry froze at the mention of the forgotten third of their trio. He hadn't been brought up in conversation since he moved out of the house he had shared with Hermione.
"Hermione—"
"Forget it, Harry. I think it would be best if you went home now."
Harry stood from his head and silently walked back to Hermione's Floo Network, disappearing in another flash of green.
As she wallowed in her hurt feelings, the black-banded owl she recognised to belong to Theodore Nott tapped on her window.
She took the parchment from its claws, replacing it with a small treat before it took off again into the night.
Granger, Florian Fortescue's tomorrow at midday. I won't take no for an answer.
- Draco Malfoy
Draco sauntered into Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour at 11:55am the next day, a smug smile on his face as he prepared a taunting speech on Granger's tardiness in his head. The smug smirk fell from his face when he saw her already seated at a corner table, her hands clasped in front of her with a faraway look on her face.
"Knut for your thoughts?"
Hermione jumped half a foot at the sound of his voice. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"I'd be more surprised if you weren't. Have you eaten?"
Hermione shook her head, reaching into her purse. "I suppose I should, I don't often function well on an empty stomach. Could you please get me a scoop of caramel ripple?"
She held out her hand with a few Galleons in it. Draco frowned at her outstretched hand.
"Granger, I'm the one who asked you to come here. It would be appalling behaviour on my part if I didn't pay for you. Isn't that what good boyfriends do?"
Hermione stilled her hand before dropping the coins back into her purse. "I suppose you're right."
Draco ordered for them, returning to the table moments later with Hermione's caramel ripple ice cream and a scoop of spearmint chip for himself. Hermione looked around, still seeming on edge as she searched for something, before casting a silencing charm around themselves.
"What are you looking for?"
"Just making sure there's no beetles around to listen in on us."
Draco eyed her warily, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. "You've been spending too much time with Loony Lovegood."
Hermione chuckled. "I'm only keeping an eye out for a green and magenta beetle. I discovered Rita Skeeter was an unregistered animagus in fourth year, so I kept her in a jar for a few days. Wish I hadn't let her out, to be frank," she said nonchalantly.
Draco's mouth dropped in surprise. "You kept her in a jar?"
Hermione shrugged. "It wasn't long. The threat of Azkaban was enough for her to leave us alone for a year. Anyway, now that I know our conversation is private, what did you want?"
Draco snapped out of his stupor. "Right, well it kind of correlates to Rita Skeeter anyway. You seem very put together when the press asks you questions, and I know there will come times that I won't have you to help me fabricate stories for this thing we're doing," Draco started, motioning between them, "I don't want to say the wrong thing and then need you to dig us out of the hole I've created."
"I'd agree with you there, it was sheer luck that I know Dennis Creevey well and was able to pay him off to 'accidentally' destroy the other photographs of you getting up in Rita's face. I suppose I can give you a crash course in media training."
"Media training?"
Hermione nodded. "After the war, Professor McGonagall took Harry, Ron and I aside and trained us on how to answer questions relating to the war if we were asked by any press. It's quite simple really, just rephrase their question as a statement."
"That's easier said than done," Draco muttered, stabbing his spoon into his ice cream.
"Well it's rather easy if you don't let your temper get in the way," Hermione bit back at him.
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "What has you so bothered today?"
"What are you trying to say?" Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him.
Draco mimicked her posture. "Don't answer my question with a question, Miss Media Training."
"Well forgive me for having emotions once in a while."
Draco cocked an eyebrow in her direction, his grey eyes breaking down the wall Hermione had up, brick by brick.
She sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry for being moody today, I didn't have such a great day yesterday and it seems to have rolled into today."
Draco relaxed his posture slightly. "What happened?"
Hermione shook her head. "You don't have to ask, it's fine."
"Granger, we're going to be fake dating for who knows how long. It would be quite helpful in making this as believable as possible if you let me into your head every once in a while."
Hermione pursed her lips, staring into her now-empty ice cream bowl. "Harry visited me yesterday afternoon, after he saw the photo in The Prophet. He's furious, and so is Ginny."
"Well we hardly had any time to tell anyone before it was published, I copped an earful from Theo at breakfast yesterday."
"They're more furious about my choice of partner, if I'm going to be honest."
Draco straightened his posture, growing defensive. "That's rich, coming from the man who is about to marry a Weasley."
"Hard to think that I nearly went down that same path," Hermione pondered quietly, no longer having the mental capacity to match Draco's defensive energy.
"You were going to marry Weasley?"
Hermione waved it away with a flick of her hand. "A story for another time. I don't quite have the energy to go into details while I'm trying to deal with the current fallout."
She pushed her chair back abruptly, standing from the table in a move to leave. "Anyway, I must be getting back to work. I have some reports to complete on my research."
"Come to my game this weekend," Draco rushed the words out of his mouth before she could leave.
She cocked her head at him. "This weekend? Why this weekend?"
"I just think it would be a good idea, is all."
A small smile crossed her face as she considered her new weekend plans. "Alright, then. Consider it a date."
She turned and walked back to work, completely unaware that the Tornadoes were playing against the Chudley Cannons on Saturday evening, which happened to be Ron Weasley's favourite team.
Draco left with the same smug smirk on his face, swatting away the green and magenta bug that was buzzing around his face outside.
Draco was nervous. He was never usually nervous to play Quidditch, but then again, he never usually had an audience watching him play.
He took a deep, calming breath as he entered the pitch, the crowd alternating between cheers and boos. He plastered on a brave face as he turned towards the Ministry Box that Hermione was occupying, blowing an enchanted kiss in the general direction. He couldn't see her, but the cheers from the crowd as the charm blew towards the box was enough to tell him that the public had bought their story, hook, line and sinker.
"Malfoy has taken to the pitch in a spectacular fashion, his brand-new girlfriend Hermione Granger cheering him on today," Lee Jordan shouted across the stadium, "Nice to see Malfoy have any kind of support at a game it's been rough season for him so far, but honestly, him and Granger? Who knew?"
Lee's amplified voice was cut off abruptly by his co-commentator as they argued about Hermione's achievements versus Draco's, but Draco had dulled the voices into a whining drone already. His nerves had dissipated and he was ready to play.
The first half of the game went by in a blur, Draco concentrating on searching for the tiny, flying, gold orb while dodging the Bludgers that kept coming his way. He scowled as he noticed Zabini halfway across the pitch, ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be keeping the Bludgers away from Draco and the rest of his team.
The score was tied when the Cannons Captain called a timeout for fifteen minutes, and Draco retreated to the change room with the rest of his team, silently seething.
"What the fuck was that?" he exploded as they entered, pushing Blaise against his chest.
"Me?" Blaise pushed back with equal force, "Why don't you ask Nott what he was doing out there while the fucking Chudley Cannons started pummelling us to the ground?"
"If you were keeping a better eye on the Bludgers, maybe Malfoy could have caught the Snitch by now and ended this whole nightmare," Theo seethed, feeding off the tensions in the room.
"Keep your nose out of my business and I'll do the same for you," Blaise growled, putting an inch between his face and Theo's.
A siren blew from outside, signalling the end of the timout. Blaise and Theo didn't move an inch, only parting when Draco parted them with his hands.
"Just do your fucking jobs and make sure I don't get blown to pieces again, got it?"
The Cannons were looking worn down and it should have been an easy victory. Unfortunately, the tensions from the locker room had carried back out onto the pitch. Theo kept missing the Quaffle as it soared through the hoops behind him, becoming more and more agitated each time it sailed past his outstretched hands.
Blaise had started paying more attention to the Bludgers, however not to which direction he was swinging them towards, sending a couple flying towards the members stands. The crowd would recoil in fear before the ball bounced back inside the pitch guidelines.
Draco had dodged a few as well, having to swing underneath his broom a couple times to avoid being knocked off altogether. Shouting curse words at Blaise hadn't helped any, if anything it just made Blaise more enraged.
The Tornadoes had managed to inch ahead of the Cannons when Draco spotted the Snitch several feet ahead of him, flitting out of his reach. He set his focus on the glimmering gold, reaching his hand out to wrap around it.
Unfortunately, Blaise had chosen that exact moment to take the last of his frustrations out on a Bludger that had come his way, beating it with such force that it became a blur. A blur that headed dangerously fast towards Draco, hitting him square in the right side of his ribs, knocking him off his broom with such force that he went flying into the side of the stands, dropping unconscious to the ground with an almighty thud.
The bed beneath Draco felt soft, yet still firm. It wasn't as soft as his bed at the Manor, but the lack of scratchy sheets led him to believe he wasn't at St Mungo's either.
He groaned as he took a sharp breath in, holding it in pain.
A cool hand rubbed something over his right side, not completely removing the pain but taking the edge off it.
"Draco? Can you hear me?" A soft voice asked him. He blinked back the fuzziness in his eyes to see a halo of bushy, brown curls surrounding the face of his apparent guardian angel.
"Did I die?" he croaked out, breath shuddering through his ribs.
Hermione chuckled. "Not quite. Gave everyone quite a scare though."
Draco tried sitting up, wincing as a bolt of pain shot across his right side. The same cool hand pushed his chest back down onto the bed, and he decided against trying to fight it.
"What happened?"
"You almost had the Snitch, but Blaise hit a Bludger in your direction and knocked you straight off your broom. I've healed the grazes and contusions on your face and shoulder, but I needed you awake to take some Skele-Gro for your shattered ribs."
She turned her back to him, reaching for a bone-coloured bottle on a vial-covered shelf.
"You running a private ward, Granger?"
She chuckled again. "I always have a stash at home, perks of the job and all."
Draco realised with a sinking pit in his stomach where he was. He was in Hermione Granger's home. In Hermione Granger's bed.
He smirked. "Didn't take you long to get me in your bed, Granger. That's a new feat, even fir me."
She gave him a withering look as she handed him the vial. "Take this before I make you sit in the waiting room at St Mungo's for eight hours."
He took a sip of the potion, immediately wanting to spit it out as he coughed and spluttered.
Hermione winced. "Sorry, it's absolutely awful going down. Here," she said, pouring a brown liquid into a glass and handing it to him.
Draco eyed it suspiciously. "Are you trying to poison me as well?"
"It's firewhiskey. I can't stop the Skele-Gro from tasting awful, but at least some alcohol will mask the taste and hopefully dull the pain. It will take a good twelve or so hours to work, so I'm afraid you're stuck here for the night."
Draco took another swig of the Skele-Gro, chasing it with the firewhiskey.
"I'm sorry, did you just say I'm stuck here?"
Hermione nodded. "You can stay in here while you heal, I can transfigure the couch into a decent bed for the night."
"Does anyone know that I'm here?"
A smirk grew on Hermione's face as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Draco, running a finger down his chest. He shivered at the contact, his cheeks heating up from the alcohol.
"Your whole team knows you're here, plus all the reporters that watched on as they watched the Tornadoes Seeker's healer girlfriend rush to his side as he lay injured on the ground," Hermione said dramatically.
"Sounds like it was quite the operation," he muttered, already feeling the effects of the Skele-Gro stabbing into his ribs.
Hermione frowned as she took in the look of pain on his face. "I wish I had something to help more with the pain, but Essence of Dittany won't work in this instance and I used the last of my Dreamless Sleep last night."
"It's fine, you weren't wrong about the Dreamless Sleep potion the first time you healed me."
Hermione frowned. "I wasn't wrong about what?"
"About me being an addict."