Hermione took several steps away from the newly reunited Slytherins. She felt as if she were encroaching on their space as they began to chat and laugh and reminisce. She was not a part of their group, and she didn't expect she ever would be.
That was okay.
She kept her eyes on Draco, of course, and the corner of her lip quirked when he began to laugh at something Astoria had said. He laughed, and then he smiled. It was a smile she hadn't seen since Hogwarts. Hermione would have thought he was a smarmy bastard then, but she liked the smile on his face now.
It had been years since she'd seen it, she realized.
Draco smiled at her all the time. But it was a different smile—a smile reserved for her and her alone. This was a smile that Draco used with his friends. Finally, Draco had his friends. He had friends, and they were part of the Order. He wasn't alone anymore.
Suddenly he turned away from Theo and Astoria, his eyes searching. They instantly landed on her and he nodded imperceptibly at her, holding out his hand. She didn't want to interrupt the Slytherins, but she found herself wanting to hold his hand anyways, so she took several steps forward and took it, twining their fingers together.
Astoria paused and stared at their intertwined hands. "I knew you were cheating on me," she said, shaking her head. "But with Granger, really?"
"Astoria—" Draco began, turning a light shade of pink.
She interrupted him with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding," Astoria said. "I didn't care. He's a good one, though, Granger, if you didn't know."
Hermione looked at Draco, who was now quite pink and gripping her hand. "Yeah," she replied fondly. "I know."
"You're cute together," Astoria continued. "You are together, right?"
"Yes," Draco replied emphatically.
Astoria nodded. "Relax, Draco. I'm fine with it. You, however," she said, looking to Hermione, "you stole my boyfriend."
Instantly, Hermione realized that she liked Astoria. Her tone was accusatory, but Hermione could still tell that she was kidding. She fought off a laugh, even as Draco looked panicked.
Her jealousy of Draco and Astoria was suddenly long forgotten.
"Sorry about that," Hermione replied, fighting off a grin.
Draco began to pale, his grip on Hermione's hand tightening.
"Unclench, Draco," Astoria said, rolling her eyes. "I'm kidding. Again. Even your girlfriend picked up on it."
"What does unclench mean?" Draco asked,
Astoria ignored him, looking towards Hermione. "So what's the plan, then?" she asked.
Hermione cleared her throat, knowing exactly what Astoria was asking. "Do you know about Horcruxes?" she asked.
Astoria stared at her, her eyes narrowing. "He has one," she said. It was not a question.
Hermione realized she'd had this entire conversation before.
"He has one now," Hermione replied—another repetition. "But we know what it is, and we know how to destroy it."
"So what are we waiting for?" Astoria asked, shifting in her hospital bed, wincing as she did so. "Let me at the fucking bastard."
"Potter," Draco said simply.
Hermione looked at Draco, somewhat surprised. "What?" she asked dumbly.
"We're waiting on Potter's order," Draco replied, shrugging.
Astoria rolled her eyes. "Screw Potter," she said, twisting in her hospital bed and swinging her legs to the floor. She grimaced. "There's more to this war than just Potter."
Hermione found she didn't entirely disagree.
Theo reached for Astoria, steadying her. "Careful, Stori," he said quietly.
Astoria merely glared at him.
Hermione watched their interaction, wondering if perhaps they were together. But they didn't seem romantic at all. It was like watching an overprotective brother and his little sister.
No sexual tension detected.
No, Hermione concluded. They weren't together. Theo loved Astoria, that much was clear. But he didn't love her.
She felt Draco's hand in hers. There was no sexual tension between Astoria or Draco, either. She was an idiot. Draco loved her.
Perhaps Astoria didn't love anyone. She was cool, aloof, and struggling to remove herself from her hospital bed despite Theo's protestations. "Stori, stop!"
"No," Astoria said petulantly, resisting Theo. "I want to see Potter."
Almost as if Astoria herself had summoned him, Harry appeared in the infirmary, looking somehow different than he had not even an hour ago. His hair was predictably mussed, and his glasses were askew, but there was something different about him — something new. Hermione stared at him, and suddenly realized what it was: she was staring at Harry Potter again. Not the broken, hopeless Harry she had just become acquainted with, nor the Harry that had emerged from his shell just recently. No—this was the Harry Potter Hermione had known when she was a child.
She was staring at Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived, not Harry Potter: The Boy Who Had Died.
He was standing a little taller, and there was the hint of a glimmer in his green eyes. There was a slight smile to his face. Overall, he looked lighter, happier—freer.
He looked like he had a plan.
Hermione was dragged from her thoughts by a squeeze from Draco's hand. While she had been studying Harry, he had clearly been studying her, his eyes narrowed now narrowed, obviously wanting in on her secret. She squeezed his hand, promising that she'd tell him. He tipped his head almost imperceptibly, saying that he understood.
When had they started to be able to communicate in such a way? Was it a new occurrence, or had she only now realized that she didn't necessarily need words to have an entire conversation with Draco?
"I heard my name," Harry said, his voice surprisingly cheerful.
Hermione looked back towards Astoria, whose gaze flickered from Draco, then to Hermione. Their eyes met briefly before Astoria's attention returned to Harry, her earlier resolve back. "You certainly did," Astoria said crisply, once again trying to get out of her bed even as she gasped in pain.
"Stori, stop it!" Theo repeated.
"Theo, knock it off!" Astoria said, swatting at his hand. "I'm fine!"
"They had to regrow the majority of your pelvis, Astoria!" Theo argued back.
Astoria huffed and pushed Theo's hand off her, but she relented and laid back in the bed, looking noticeably paler. Hermione realized that Astoria was still in an incredible amount of pain. She wondered what Voldemort had done to her. "Yes," Astoria continued, as if the last several minutes hadn't happened. "I was looking for you, Potter. I want to know what the fucking plan is, now that you've got us all here."
Harry's smile merely grew. "Yes, I have a plan. But we can talk about that later. The plan for tonight is to have a party."
"A party!?" everyone cried in unison.
Draco's grip on Hermione's hand tightened painfully. When she looked up at him, he was turning a violent shade of pink, his jaw was set in a tight line. He was angry. "We just told you how to kill Him and you want to fucking throw a party. You've fully lost it haven't you, Potter?!"
Harry's smile somehow managed to grow even further. He shrugged. "I have a plan. Well—a semblance of a plan—"
"A semblance of a plan?" Draco shot back. He took a step towards Harry, looking very much like he wanted to throttle him.
Hermione held tight to his hand, stopping him in his tracks. He looked down at their joined fingers and scowled. "Wait," she said quietly.
Harry shook his head, his eyes softening. "I understand that we're all impatient. I am, too. But even if with a plan, orders have to be drawn up, Order members need be recalled from their various missions, we'll have to have meetings. There's nothing we can do about it today."
"What do you mean there's nothing we can do about it today?" Draco growled. "There's plenty we can do about it today."
As if expecting this, Harry nodded. "Yes, what I mean to say, is that everything that can be done today has been done. Bill and Fleur have several things to wrap up Paris, and it will take several days for both them and the other Order members abroad to wrap up their missions." Harry paused. "I thought tonight—we could have some fun. It could be the last time."
The last time.
The last time.
Harry wasn't wrong, of course. This could go wrong. They could all die, even if his plan was perfect.
They deserved to have some fun, if it was the last time.
When was the last time she'd had had fun? Really had fun? The last time Hermione could remember was at the lake with Draco, the visit they'd taken after she'd cried to him right after he had been tortured. It had been too short-lived, especially if it was to be the last time.
It was then that Hermione realized everyone was staring at her. Harry was asking for permission to throw a party, and Draco was asking for permission to hex him. "If we're going to have a party, Harry, it needs to be a very good party," she said slowly.
Harry's smile reappeared, and Draco looked positively murderous. That was fine. She knew how to deal with him.
"Food, and music, and copious amounts of George's terrible alcohol, and dancing," Harry replied, nodding.
Draco looked slightly less angry now, seemingly warming up to the idea, as if he had perhaps realized the same thing she had. His jaw was was still tight, though.
"This is stupid," Astoria grumbled.
"You're being abrasive," Theo replied.
After leaving the infirmary, Hermione walked down the hall with Draco, their hands still intertwined. "You want to go to this party, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she replied firmly.
He sighed, opening their bedroom door for her. "Why?" he asked, closing the door behind them.
"I've never gotten to dance with you," Hermione replied.
He instantly softened. "We can dance right now," he said gently.
Hermione shook her head. "I want to wear a dress and dance with my boyfriend. I've never been able to do that before. If, it doesn't work—I want to be able to know I got to dance to with my boyfriend."
Partner, she thought briefly. But they had not had that conversation yet.
"I want to see the plan," Draco said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can have a party. But I want something solid. Can we compromise?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said. "We can."
Hermione caught Harry just as he was heading towards the meeting room. He still looked just as cheery. She grabbed him by the arm. "Harry," she said. "You do have a plan, don't you."
His eyes turned serious. "I do," he said. "I need you to trust me with this. We're all uptight—me more so than anyone. We need a night—no, we deserve it. Tomorrow—" he cut off, swallowing. "Tomorrow, we'll start putting everything into motion. Harry swallowed again, looking like he wanted to say something else.
Hermione wanted reply, desperate for something solid. Instead, she stayed quiet, waiting for Harry to continue.
After a moment he grinned at her sheepishly. "You believe in me, don't you?" he asked.
"I've always believed in you, Harry," she said quietly. "Always. Since I was a kid."
"We've been here before, Hermione. We thought it was the end. Do you think it could be real this time?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, feeling it throughout her entire body. This was the end, one way or another.
"Do you think the party is a bad idea?" Harry asked.
No. She didn't. "No," she replied firmly. "We all deserve to have fun. Just once. If only once." She paused, remembering Draco's compromise. "But Draco comes to the meeting tomorrow?" she asked.
"I assume he'll murder me if I say no?" he asked, grinning. This was the Harry she knew. Bright and happy and willing to have some fun.
"As you rightfully should," Hermione agreed.
"He's probably plotting it as we speak," Harry said cheerfully.
Hermione rolled her eyes, then winced. Harry was probably right. "Probably," she agreed with a sigh, turning on her heel and returning to her bedroom. She closed the door on Harry who was still smiling. It made her smile, too.
Draco was waiting for her, perched on the edge of the bed. "A party," he repeated quietly.
"A party," she agreed.
"These people don't like me, Hermione," he murmured.
"I love you," she said.
"And you want to go?" Draco asked again.
"Yes," Hermione replied quietly.
"Then we'll go." He sighed, standing and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Even though I think this is a tremendous waste of time."
"Draco, I want to have fun. For once. I think we should. I think we deserve it," she replied fiercely. "I don't remember the last time, other than the lake."
Draco nodded, looking away. "It was the Yule Ball, for me. You wore blue. You looked—you were very pretty." He flushed.
"You noticed me?" Hermione asked, surprised. She had caught his gaze his only once that evening, and he had merely sneered at her.
He nodded again. "You were—very pretty. That night."
"You thought I was pretty," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling.
"I did," he agreed. "I do."
"Come dance with me then," she murmured. "I'll wear blue for you."
It shouldn't have surprised Hermione that with George's help, the party was in full swing while it was still light outside. Thinking they'd had time, Hermione and Draco had had sex both before and during their shower. They had debated on an after shower round, but Hermione had pushed him away. "Later," she said, looking through her purple beaded bag for a dress.
The first one she found was old, but with just a few taps of her wand, it turned Draco's eyes from silver to a light, cerulean blue when he looked at her. That was good enough for her.
She could already feel the music pumping in the house as they dressed.
Draco, finally having a new set of clothes, dressed in a white button down and a black pair of trousers.
"What?" she asked. "No tie?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Would you like me to wear one?" he asked.
They'd already had sex. Twice. So why was she visualizing leading him away via necktie to have sex again?
"Yes, please," she replied primly, straightening her dress.
Sex with Draco was incredibly addictive, and it was all his fault.
He merely grinned at her and rummaged through her bag until he found one.
She pulled it through the collar of shirt, then paused. "I don't know how to tie this," Hermione admitted. She'd seen her mother do it a thousand times for her father, but she'd never actually paid attention to the movements.
Draco took her hands with a confused look. "I don't need you to," he said questioningly.
Hermione felt herself flush. "It's—" she paused, flushing further. "My mom used to tie my dad's every day before work."
Immediately he softened. "It's easy," he said, taking her hands and guiding her through the motions he was clearly so skilled at. She merely felt clumsy, and his tie ended up lopsided. When it was done, he merely grinned at her, though.
"That's lopsided," she protested.
"I like it this way," he replied. "My girl did it."
His girl. She grinned up at him. "Your girl?" she asked, dumbly.
He smirked back at her. "My girl," he agreed, before kissing her.
"We don't have time for a third round, Draco," she replied, giggling.
"I beg to differ," he replied.
Hermione pulled away from him and attempted to straighten his tie to no avail. "Damn it," she said, frustrated.
"I wasn't joking when I said I liked it like this," he replied, still smirking.
She rolled her eyes. "Later, Draco," she said.
His expression turned serious. "No, come here," he said, reaching for her. "You do look beautiful in blue, and I do like my tie this way. "He wrapped an arm around her waist. "And I love you."
"I love you," she murmured back.
He sighed. "Let's get this over with then."
As they headed down the stairs, the music continued to grow louder. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound was nearly deafening. There was a table waiting for them, containing what could only be George's homemade liquor, considering the smell. Hermione grabbed a glass and shoved it into Draco's hands before her grabbing her own and taking a sip.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco roll his eyes before taking a sip from his own glass.
The music or the dancing was not all what Hermione had anticipated, but she didn't care. She wanted to dance with Draco.
Just this once.
She pulled him out onto the makeshift dance floor and began to move. She didn't know how to dance to this music, but she the more she drank, the less she found she cared. And as Draco's eyes lit up as he watched her, the less she found that it mattered.
Draco was a fish out of water, though—Hermione could tell. He had grown up as wizard royalty, probably taking formal dance classes from the time he could walk. It showed in his stiff, reserved movements, that never lessened even as the alcohol continued to flow. He swayed awkwardly on the dance floor with Hermione, his hand lightly gripping her waist as if she were his dance partner.
Partner.
She was drunk, and she needed a break.
Breathing heavily, she dragged an extremely relieved-looking Draco from the dance floor and pushed him down into an empty chair, perching herself on his lap and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"This is terrible," he said quietly, gently caressing her bare thigh. "I don't know how you got me to do this."
"We're having sex again. Possibly twice," Hermione murmured into his ear.
His fingers tightened on her thigh for just a moment before he nodded. "Ah. I retract my previous statement, then. I know exactly how you got me to do this."
Hermione curled into Draco's lap, content to sit with him while everyone else continued to dance and drink. It felt nice to be around people, but also to be with Draco. No one seemed to notice Draco tonight, and it was a wonderful feeling. For the first time, her relationship with Draco felt—normal.
Like she was just a girl at a party with her—admittedly, very snobby boyfriend.
Ginny arrived at the party late, and Hermione watched as she briefly smiled at Dean, before the song changed to something slow and Harry appeared immediately. Hermione took a sip of her drink and nearly choked as she watched Harry ask Ginny to dance. Sputtering, she batted at Draco's chest.
"What?" he asked, his eyes concerned. "Are you okay?"
Hermione forced herself to swallow, and gasping, she replied, "Harry asked Ginny to dance!" she said into his ear.
"Potter has balls after all," Draco mused.
"It's a slow song," Hermione said after a moment, having lost sight of Harry and Ginny. "Can we dance again?"
"We can dance whenever you want, Hermione," Draco said gently.
"You didn't like it, though."
He kissed her cheek. "It was with you. I liked it."
"You said it was terrible," Hermione argued.
"But then you promised me lots and lots of sex," Draco replied, raising his brows.
"Draco!" She swatted at his chest again.
"Would you like to dance?" Draco asked softly, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver.
"Yes, I would," Hermione replied, standing and taking his hands, pulling him back towards the dance floor.
They settled into a space and Draco's hands landed on her hips, seemingly more confident. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as they danced.
The music stayed slow and she let her head droop as they swayed. She felt Draco press a lazy kiss to the top of her head. "I love you," he said quietly.
"I love you," she replied, raising her head to look at him.
Over Draco's shoulder, she caught Harry and Ginny dancing, Harry's fingers on her hips, Ginny's arms around his shoulders.
Draco caught her gaze and kissed the corner of her mouth. "They've been like that for a while," he said.
Hermione suddenly found herself done with the party. She just wanted to be alone with Draco.
Promptly, the song ended and Hermione pulled away from Draco. "I'm ready for bed," she said quietly.
He grinned and kissed her forehead. "I am, too."
Hermione took his hand and led him towards the stairs. They passed George curled up and fast asleep on the couch. He was snoring.
They returned to their little room as the music grew even louder once they closed the door. Without words, Draco and Hermione began dancing again, Hermione's arms wrapped around his shoulders and Draco's around her waist
Going to a party had been fun—for a little bit.
But she preferred being alone with Draco.
Hermione looked up and found Draco watching her, his eyes soft and full of affection. She stood on the tips of her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
This, however, did not appear to be good enough of for Draco. He turned his head and captured her lips, pulling her in for a deeper kiss. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes still closed.
"What are you thinking?" she asked softly.
His eyes snapped open to stare at her. "Hermione," he said quietly.
The way he said her name sent an electric shock up her spine. "Yes?" she asked.
"I think this is it for me," Draco replied.
"What?" Hermione asked, feeling a sense of dread build in her stomach.
He shook his head against hers, sighing. "That sounded bad, didn't it?" he asked. "I think you're it for me."
"Explain further please, because I'm still not quite understanding," she replied.
He sighed but then smiled. "My mother always told me when I met the one, I'd know it instantly. When I woke up on the floor of your tent, do you know the first thought I had?" he asked.
She was suddenly breathless. "No," she said quietly.
"It's her. She's the one. You're it for me, Hermione."
Hermione stayed quiet for several moments. It was a big revelation. Life-altering, intense and momentous. She should have felt scared at Draco's revelation. But Hermione found she wasn't scared at all. Because, of course, he was it for her, too. "You're it for me, too, Draco," she replied quietly. "It took me longer to realize, but I don't think," she broke off, shaking her head. "I don't think there's anyone but you. I don't want anyone but you."
"Is this forever?" he asked, fingers skating down her waist.
"I want it to be forever," Hermione said. "I think it could be."
He smiled. "Good."
"Good," Hermione agreed, smiling and resting her head against his chest as they continued to say to the music. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Hermione Granger."
"I Stupeyed you and tied you up on my floor, you ridiculous man."
Draco shrugged. "It's exactly what you should have done. But it was the look in your eyes. I was done for."
"You're a ridiculous man," Hermione repeated.
Draco nodded. "I'm a fool," he agreed. "But you look very pretty in blue."
"I'm fairly certain I was not wearing blue at the time," she replied, still swaying with him.
"No matter," he said, his fingers tracing along her spine. Hermione closed her eyes. "As beautiful as you look in this dress, do you know what would make it better?"
"What's that?" she murmured.
He kissed her forehead. "If it was on floor and in the corner."
Against him, Hermione giggled before turning around and pulling her hair over her right shoulder, revealing the zipper of her dress to Draco. His fingers went to it immediately, pulling it down impossibly slowly, the pads of his fingers trailing against the skin of her back as he did so. Zipper released, Draco pushed the dress from her shoulders and Hermione stepped out of it, quickly kicking it into the corner of their room. The air was cold, but suddenly Draco's mouth was on her neck, trailing hot kisses down her neck and her shoulders. Her flesh erupted into goosebumps, and it wasn't from the cold.
Wanting to see his face, Hermione turned around to stare up at him. He was smiling down at her. Remembering her earlier desire, Hermione wrapped his tie in her fist, pulling his face down towards her for a kiss. He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard, grinning against her lips as he did so.
With her free hand, Hermione began to pull Draco's shirt free from his trousers. One of his hands fell from her face to assist her. His shirt freed, Hermione released her grip on his tie, undoing it in clumsy movements as she continued to kiss him before ripping it from his neck all together. She undid the buttons of his shirt with practiced ease before pushing it from his shoulders. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you so fucking much," he murmured as he unhooked her bra. The garment felt to the floor.
She kissed him again, not wanting to be far from his skin. He kissed her back, walking her towards the bed. The back of her knees collided with the edge of it and Hermione let herself fall. Draco fell with her, pinning her body to the bed. Vaguely, Hermione registered that at one time, this position and the pressure of Draco's body on top of her would have made her uncomfortable—scared her even. But now, as hiss body melded with her, all she could think of the comfortable weight of him on top of her, the warmth of his skin against her, and the delightful sensations his lips made as they traveled back her neck, across her collarbone and her breasts—
Hermione started, however, when his mouth dipped lower, towards her ribs—dangerously close to where her scar was. "Draco," she said uneasily.
Draco immediately stopped his ministrations and looked up at her. He seemed to understand her hesitance in an instant. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "You've kissed my scars, Hermione," he said gently. "Let me kiss yours."
Hermione bit her lip, thinking. She hated her scars. She hated that Draco could even see them. She tried to hide them from him most of the time. But in that moment, with Draco staring at her so earnestly just after telling her she was beautiful, and that she was it, Hermione felt herself nod.
She loved his scars, after all.
Draco's lips returned to her ribcage, and he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to the entire length of her scar, causing her to gasp and shiver beneath him. "If I could take this away for you, I would," he murmured against her skin. "But you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen—scars and all."
Hermione pulled his face back to hers, kissing him. "You are a liar, Draco Malfoy."
"I swear I'm not," he replied seriously. "I won't ever lie to you."
She knew this to be absolutely and completely true. So, she merely grinned and pulled his mouth back to hers. "I'd take yours away, too," she said quietly.
"We wouldn't be here without them, though," Draco murmured back.
Hermione supposed that this was true, too. Without a few scars, it was possible she wouldn't have Draco.
The weight of his body disappeared from hers and Hermione sat up to watch as he removed his pants and underwear before she shimmied out of her own. He grinned at her before returning to her in the bed.
As he slid inside her with a low groan, Hermione wrapped her arms around shoulders and ran her fingers down as his spine as he began to move slowly, and she couldn't help but think that a handful of scars littering their bodies was absolutely, entirely worth it.
