Celebrate the Season fic request for Camille
Celebrate the Season fic request for Camille
Author: Cenagurl
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Summary: Hermione Granger helps Draco Malfoy in purchasing his Halloween costume. What chaos could possibly ensue?
Untitled by cenagurl
A/n: Okay, so first of all I would like to apologize to the person whom I offer this request to, because of my unforgivable tardiness (but my computer crashed, so wouldn’t that be sort of a valid reason?). This fic goes out to Camille, and these are her requirements:
Rating(s) you’re willing to write: PG-13 to NC-17
Rating(s) of the fic you want:PG-13 to NC-17
Three things you want your fic to include: 1. To take place during
Halloween and for it to be a masquerade. 2. Make Draco dress up as
Zorro (dress Hermione into any costume.) 3. Have some snogging and
all that good stuff >P
Three things you do not want your fic to include:1. Going to fast,
make some kind of -adventures- for them during the preperateion. 2.
Slutty characters.
Anything specific that you do not want to write: Don't make it too
boring, I want some adventure! Steal other plots, make your own! No
fully light fiction, I want some dark man >P
Well, I hope I have met at least half of your expectations. =) Read on…
Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me, by the way.
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Draco Black Malfoy cursed himself for feeling a wave of queasy nervousness at the pit of his stomach as he waited for Hermione the next day outside the bookshop. Crabbe and Goyle told him the muggle world was a dangerous place; snake-like vehicles moving about carrying disgruntled-looking people, devices which show things that scare the living hell out of you, and one time, Blaise shared to him that he passed by a place full of weird contraptions that the muggles rode in, making them scream and throw up. He called that place hell.
He hoped Hermione wouldn’t let him come across such things.
His thoughts were obstructed when he spotted a familiar bushy head in the crowd, and he felt his tension heighten.
“Sorry I’m late,” Hermione said when she reached him, locks of curly brown hair floating around her face with each playful breeze. She wore a pale blue cashmere sweater and a short pleated skirt that covered only half her thighs. She also wore some legwarmers and a scarf around her neck that accentuated her outfit.
Draco had to admit she looked presentable enough. Okay, so she looked a wee bit pretty today, for a mudblood.
“It’s alright,” he found himself saying. “Are we leaving now?” he felt his stomach churn at the idea.
“Not if you’re looking green like that,” Hermione answered, peering at him worriedly. “Do you want to go to the bathroom?”
Draco shook his head, and Hermione reluctantly led him to the secret wall that separated Diagon Alley from the muggle world. Draco felt ready to pee on his pants as they exited Tom’s bar; the main reason was because he was led to a busy-looking street with those weird vehicles honking and blaring angrily.
“You’re looking very… ill,” Hermione observed as she steered the stiff-looking blonde towards the other side of the road. “Are you really alright?”
Draco gave a weak nod, but expanded no further. When they reached the other side of the street, Hermione brought out a piece of parchment from her pocket, which she handed to the still green Draco.
Draco peered at the paper anxiously, and saw that a brief history on Zorro’s life was written in it, along with the list for the materials needed for his costume.
“Wow, Granger, you sure did your homework,” Draco said in awe, giving Hermione an appraising look. Hermione felt her heart accelerate with the look he gave her, but then again, it was not everyday that she received praises from her ex-nemesis.
“Finding Zorro’s costume isn’t too difficult at all,” Hermione said. “In fact, all the things needed for his costume can be found at the boutiques around here,” as she said that, she pulled out another piece of paper from her pocket, which contained a rather wrinkled picture of Zorro.
“Hell, the guy looks like a bandit or something,” Draco commented. “I thought he was a hero,” he added with a puzzled look.
“He is a hero,” Hermione said briskly, shooting a slanted look at a couple of teenagers passing by them who were smiling flirtatiously at her companion. She was surprised to see Draco actually smiling back, so she gave him a pinch on the arm.
“Ouch! What did you do that for, Granger?” he asked, rubbing the place she had pinched.
“They are muggles, if I must remind you, Malfoy.”
He shot her a challenging look. “So? They don’t seem so bad,”
Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring the stab of jealousy that seemed to creep out of nowhere. Those women only smiled at him and he accepted them easily, not caring about their bloodlines, whereas she had to save his mother to gain his respect?
No, that wasn’t fair.
“Watch where you’re going, lassie!”
Hermione was so preoccupied wit her thoughts that she didn’t realize that she had crossed the street on a go signal. Cars around her were honking angrily, and Draco clutched her arm like a frightened child.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said embarrassedly as she hurried to get on the other side, Draco in tow. She felt him shaking against her as they slowed their pace once more.
“Are you alright?” she queried, looking into his ashen face. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“We’re almost at Bobson’s now,” Hermione announced as they rounded up a corner. “We’ll be heading a little over the south to get the first thing you need for Zorro’s costume,”
“And what is that?”
“His trademark mask.”
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Approximately five and a quarter hours after they had started their shopping adventure, Hermione led an exhausted-looking Draco to a teahouse across the store where they just bought the perfect boots to go with the Zorro costume.
As Hermione ordered a couple of tea and some cakes, Draco leaned back on his seat, running a hand through his miraculously disheveled blonde hair. His eyes were closed, and his face was scrunched up in a grimace.
“Are you alright?” she asked for about the fiftieth time that day, and he shook his head. “My head’s aching like hell, and my feet are sore from all the bloody walking and my back feels like it’s going to snap in---”
“I quite understand what you’re feeling,” Hermione cut off. “I feel just exhausted as you are, and I’m not complaining,”
Draco’s eyes snapped open, and he leaned towards her and gave her hands that were propped on the table a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Granger, It’s my fault you’re also feeling lousy,” he apologized, and Hermione burst out laughing. “What?” he asked, annoyed.
“What you just said, it seemed a little--- far-off, in my opinion. It isn’t something I ever dreamed you’d say to me. I mean, a high and mighty Malfoy like you, apologizing for giving me a hard time? It’s quite a wonder that I still don’t see pigs soaring up the sky,” she told him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Draco felt heat rise in his face. “Fine,” he said heatedly. “If you prefer I act as bastardly as I did back at school---”
“No, I’m not saying I did not like what you just did,” Hermione clarified, amused to see that she had somehow flustered the stone-cold boy who used to show little emotion. “In fact, it’s quite an improvement. I just never thought you would change from the snotty brat that you were seven years ago,”
“Who says I’m no longer a snotty brat?” he countered. “Well at least you’ve begun acting more civilly this time,” Hermione answered cheerfully.
“I’ve matured,” Draco said, and Hermione cocked a brow. “Really? Then why all the whining and complaining?” she kidded, and Draco scowled.
“My delicate body’s not used to all those roughhousing, you know,” he shot back in a teasing voice. “Unlike you who’s as strong as a horse, moving about like there’s no tomorrow,”
“Excuse me, but I was just trying to fit buying all your things in the few hours we have today,” Hermione said.
“Can’t we finish our shopping tomorrow? I’m pooped,” Draco said, a look of relief on his face when their orders arrived. “I’m so damned hungry,”
“I’m going to the amusement park with Harry and Ginny’s kids tomorrow,” Hermione said as she took a bite from her bagel. “That’s why we have to finish this today,”
“You’re going to baby-sit for Potter?” he asked incredulously, pausing midway into taking a sip from his tea.
“If you wish to call it as such. I prefer to call it quality-time,” Hermione replied.
“Then what about the day after that?”
“I have an appointment with my orthodontist,” she said, and he looked at her quizzically. “What in Merlin is that?” he asked, and Hermione was more than glad to explain to him the basics about having the perfect teeth.
“Okay. The day after your visit to the dentist?” Draco asked hopefully. “I have to report to the ministry the latest on the hag assassinations in Romania,” Hermione answered, and Draco’s face crumpled.
“I’m going to be really busy in the next days, so we really should finish the shopping today,” Hermione told him in a sensible tone.
Suddenly, Draco’s face brightened up. “Okay, how about this--- I’ll go with you and Potter’s kids tomorrow in whatever place you’re taking them, then we’ll shop afterwards,” Draco said. “After all, the only things we haven’t bought yet are the sword and the--- the---” his face scrunched up in distaste, and Hermione laughed.
“The black tights,” she said for him, and his scowl grew bigger. “Okay, you can come with me and the kids, but you have to promise you’ll be nice to them,” she gave him a warning look.
“I’ll try,” he answered slowly; he was not too fond of kids after all. And it was Potter’s kids they’re talking about. “They can be quite playful and a tad too excited sometimes, so I’m warning you--- they’re not too easy to handle,” Hermione informed him, and he said in his lazy drawl, “A Malfoy can handle anything,”
“If you say so,” Hermione said skeptically. “Anyway, I’ll meet you tomorrow at Godric’s Hollow--- that’s where Harry and Ginny live--- nine sharp, okay?”
Draco nodded, not knowing that he had just sealed a ticket to the place Blaise called hell.
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Draco thought the kids the devil’s spawns.
The moment he stepped into the front hall of the Potter’s residence, two high-pitched shrieks were heard all over the house, followed by loud bangs and a crash.
“Lillian! Sirius!” came a woman’s voice from upstairs. The noise stopped at once, and two kids about four years of age came running from the room on his right, a girl and a boy.
The girl had long black hair and large brown eyes. The boy on the other hand, had flaming red hair which stuck out in different directions, like Potter’s had back at school, and bright green eyes.
“Muuuummy!” Lillian screamed. “Sirius took Matilda’s head off again, and he tossed it outside the window!” she shot the boy a nasty look, and he stuck out his tongue in response.
Then, as though just noticing their presence, the girl gave another ear-splitting shriek and rushed towards them, a huge smile on her little face.
“Aunt ‘Mione!” she chirped, giving a giggle when Hermione scooped her up and twirled her around. Draco watched them in fascination, his heart suddenly racing at the sight of Hermione holding a child so tenderly, with a beautiful smile on her lips.
He wanted to see her hold their child like that.
Now where did that come from? He mentally asked himself. It was not like he was planning on having a baby with her. He still had a family tradition to hold on to, but somehow, he found himself not caring whether she was a mudblood or not. She had saved his mother after all. And she helped him with his costume shopping. That really sets her apart from the others.
His train of thought was disrupted when he saw the little boy edging towards him with a naughty look in his eyes. Without thinking, Draco began to back away, shooting an uneasy look at Hermione, who didn’t seem to smell the danger.
She was talking animatedly to the little girl, who was listening raptly to every word she said. Hermione’s eyes were alight with glee, and mischief as well, and her cheeks were turning rosy from all the excitement. A few locks of curly brown hair had already fallen from her braid, somehow flattering the shape of her face even more. Draco cursed himself for thinking she looked adorable.
Draco’s gray eyes snapped back to the boy, who was only a couple of steps from him now. Draco inwardly cringed when his back hit the cool green wall--- a dead end. He looked down at the boy, who was grinning like a rascal now; slowly he inserted his pointing finger in his right nostril, then, as quick as lightning, wiped it on Draco’s expensive khaki pants.
Draco bellowed in outrage and disgust just as the boy turned and ran upstairs, laughing maniacally all the way. Hermione and the little girl jumped in surprise, and Draco shot a livid look at her direction.
“The brat,” he said slowly, each word punctuated with an angry note. “wiped snot on my pants.”
Hermione looked as though she was containing her laughter. She was about to reply when Ginny came bounding the stairs, her vivid red hair flying behind her.
“Hermione! How long have you been here? Harry just left--- the ministry needs him early today--- Malfoy, what are you doing in my house?” Ginny said all these in a single breath. Lillian had wriggled her way out of Hermione’s arms and went running towards her mother with a happy shriek, babbling about something Draco had no inking of.
“Oh, he’ll be accompanying me and the kids at the amusement park,” Hermione said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Ginny stared at her like she was mad.
“I didn’t know you two are… cozy,” she said, baffled.
“I’ll explain the situation sometime,” Hermione said kindly. “Are the kids all set?”
“Will the kids be safe?” Ginny blurted out.
Hermione gave her a surprised look. “Of course they will be. Are you questioning my capability to take care of them?” she demanded, half-joking, half-serious.
“I have absolute faith in you, Hermione. It’s your companion I do not trust,” Ginny said pointedly, and Draco gave her a cool stare.
“Then your bloody kids won’t come with me and Granger. We have better things to do than baby-sit them,” he said smoothly, and Ginny glared at him.
“We are taking the kids to the park,” Hermione positively growled at him, and he had the good sense to shut up. “He won’t do anything to them, I promise to you, Gins,” she said.
Ginny reluctantly agreed, and ten minutes later, they were off.
Little Sirius didn’t look one bit guilty about wiping snot on Draco; on the other hand, he kept shooting him triumphant looks that made Draco itch to jinx the boy.
“We’re going to the amusement park in my world today,” Hermione announced cheerfully to the kids as they walked across the street. “So we’ll be traveling the muggle-way--- wouldn’t that be exciting?”
Lillian nodded vigorously. “Will we be riding a train?” she asked excitedly. “We will be, sweetie,” Hermione told the girl gently. She then glanced up at Draco, who was watching her with his intense gray eyes. She blushed at the look he gave her; he smirked in reply.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced you yet!” Hermione suddenly said. “Lillian, Sirius, I would like you to meet Draco. Draco, these are Lillian and Sirius. Lillian just turned four last month and Sirius is five years old,”
“Five years, three months and nine days old,” Sirius corrected in a bossy voice. “Hi, uncle Dwaco,” Lillian said shyly, giving Draco a friendly little smile. Draco decided he liked the little girl.
They crossed a few more streets before arriving at an old bar similar to the Leaky Cauldron. They went inside and went out through the backdoor, right into the muggle world, where Draco saw countless noisy contraptions once again, honking and blaring angrily.
The kids seemed delighted to see these though. “You have a car like that, don’t you, aunt ‘Mione?” Lillian asked, pointing at a small red car parked at the sidewalk. “Yes, in fact I do,” Hermione replied, barely noticing Draco’s ashen face.
Sirius noticed it though. “Are you going to throw up?” he asked, his eyes wide with eagerness. “That would be totally cool,”
“No, I am not,” Draco bit off, dragging the kid as they walked towards the station. “Aww, too bad,” Sirius said. “I guess you still need to eat some of mum’s cabbage soup to throw up--- I did twice, and it was icky but fun,”
The child’s comment made Draco laugh out loud. Hermione gave Sirius a reproving glance though. “But it’s true!” Sirius burst out, and little Lillian nodded empathically at her brother.
“It tastes horrible aunt ‘Mione, even dad hates it,” Lillian said. “Last night we saw him throw all the soup on his plate outside the window and tell mum he finished it all already,”
Even Hermione smiled this time. The four of them continued an easy conversation as they boarded the train, Draco slowly losing his nervousness and dislike to the boy who besmirched his pants with bogey.
As they stepped out from the train, Lillian had let out a loud shriek as she spotted a candy shop across the street. Hermione then led them to the shop, and let the kids choose the sweets they wanted. Lillian got several lollipops, while Sirius complained.
“Don’t they have chocolate frogs here? And where are the acid pops? The cockroach clusters?” he asked loudly, and Hermione shushed him up. The little boy chose a few bars of Mars, then, along with a large bag of M&M’s.
“Why don’t you pick something, Draco?” Hermione asked, and Draco felt an odd sense of contentment at the sound of his name on her lips. “It’s on me, I know you haven’t tasted any muggle sweet yet,” she added in a whisper.
So Draco picked up a large Butterfinger bar, and Hermione paid all their purchases at the counter. As they went out of the shop, Hermione turned to the kids and said, “Were going to ride a bus now, then we’re off to the amusement park,” she said, and the children squealed with glee.
Draco was back to looking uncertain again. He had never ridden a bus before, even in the wizarding world.
He was a nervous wreck by the time they were about to board the bus, and Hermione saw how white his face was. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern in her voice.
“Yes,” he replied, but he felt very queasy.
“Why don’t you eat your chocolate bar?” Sirius asked him as they sat at the back of the bus. “We’ll see if it really tastes like fingers with butter,”
Hermione looked horrified at the child’s words. “Sirius James Potter, you will not say such disgusting things again. Don’t listen to him, Draco,” she said as she unwrapped another lollipop for Lillian.
Draco then unwrapped his chocolate bar and took a small bite from it. It tasted heavenly; he took another bite, this time a big one, and continued to munch on it until none was left.
“You look like you’re going to eat the wrapper too,” Sirius remarked, and Hermione laughed. “I’ll buy you more when we reach the park,” Hermione promised Draco, who gave a feeble thanks, his face pink.
When they reached the entrance of the park, Draco was greeted by a noisy mob of people milling about, some laughing, some licking lollipops, and some looking ready to throw up. There were vendors everywhere, selling colored hats, stuffed toys, and little souvenirs as well.
“I’m going to buy us tickets, you and the kids wait here okay?” Hermione told Draco, and disappeared before he could protest.
“Uncle Dwaco, I want that dollie over there!” Lillian shrieked, tugging at Draco’s hand with her sticky little fingers. It took all Draco’s strength not to shout at the little girl for dirtying his hand with a mix of her lollipop and saliva.
“Okay,” he said instead, and Sirius lagged behind them as he led the little girl to the shop, looking blissfully at the display of jester hats and bonnets. Lillian pointed the largest doll with long curly brown hair and big brown eyes and Draco asked the vendor for the price.
“I’ll give you twenty pounds for that, ‘andsome,” said the vendor with a flirtatious smile. Draco looked at her quizzically. Twenty pounds? Was she going to hit him for asking the doll’s price? Was the doll not for sale?
“I’d like to see you try and pound me, madam. Tell me the bloody price so I can get out of here,”
It was the woman’s turn to give him a bewildered look. “Are you on drugs, son?” she asked kindly, and Draco grew more confused. He bit back a retort though.
“Just tell me the price, and I’ll pay, okay?” he finally ground out in a calm voice.
“I just told ye, sonnie. Twenty pounds it is,”
Just then, Hermione appeared beside Draco, the tickets clutched in her hand. “Are you going to buy something?” she asked, and Draco nodded. “Lillian wants that doll over there, and this woman tells me she wants to pound me twenty times to get it,”
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, then she burst out laughing. She then leaned close to enlighten him.
“Pounds is the currency here in the muggle world,” she whispered in his ear, and Draco couldn’t help but shiver at her light breath against his lobe.
“I don’t have any muggle money with me,” he whispered back, embarrassed. “I’ll pay for this one first. You can pay me back later,” Hermione replied, giving him an impish grin before getting a few wads of cash from her wallet.
“Yay!” Lillian gave an excited shriek as Draco handed her the doll. “Thanks a lot, uncle Dwaco! I’m going to name this dollie ‘Mione because she looks like aunt ‘Mione,”
Draco examined the doll, and saw that what she said was true. Now he wanted one for himself. He wanted to kick himself for such ludicrous thoughts.
“Shall we come in now?” Hermione asked brightly.
“But aunt Hermione, I want that hat over there,” Sirius groused, eyes on the multi-colored jester’s hat on the shop across them. “Okay, we’ll buy you one,” Hermione promised, and the boy’s face lit up with joy.
“And I want Lillian and uncle Draco and you to wear one too!” Sirius added with a roguish smile. Hermione smiled in reply while Draco scowled. The hat looked bloody stupid to him, and he’d rather walk naked than put one on his head.
But a few minutes later, as they entered the park, Draco trailed behind them, a deep scowl on his face as he willed himself not to throw the hat he wore away. It was a bloody jester’s hat, complete with four small silver bells. He hated it.
“Where would you like to ride first?” he heard Hermione ask the kids, and Lillian, as usual, gave a loud shriek. “I want to ride the ponies over there!” she screamed, pointing at a large, round contraption with horses stuck in the middle, going round and round.
So off they went to the merry-go-round. Lillian wanted a pony to herself, and Sirius sat on a coach with some other kids while munching on his chocolate bars. Hermione and Draco had to share a pony because everywhere else was full; Hermione was sitting in front of Draco, her legs on the side of the horse and her hand on its head.
“Why do people ride here in this stupid fake horses?” Draco asked. “I mean, couldn’t they just saddle up real horses? That would be more fun than this,”
“Well, it is safer this way,” Hermione told him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “At least you won’t worry about the horse throwing you off or something,”
Draco was acutely aware of how close they were. Her cheek was practically touching his face, and he could smell her hair--- it smelled like vanilla, and it was driving him insane.
“Hermione,” he called out softly, loving the sound of her name in his lips. She turned to look at him, surprise visible in her brown eyes.
“You called me Hermione,” she said in awe. “Not mudblood, not Granger, not snotty-know-it-all, but Hermione,” a huge smile tugged at her lips, and Draco felt as though he was punched in the stomach.
She looked too beautiful that he had the sudden urge to kiss her. It took all his strength to hold back, and he managed in a sort of strangled voice, “And why are you surprised? You also called me by my first name today. Isn’t that just fair?”
“I guess so,” Hermione replied with a wistful note in her voice. “And I just love the way my name sounds in your lips,” she said before she could stop herself. Draco saw heat rise up her face, and he almost laughed at her adorable expression.
Oh, how he wanted to kiss her!
Then, as though reading his dirty mind, the ride suddenly lurched to a stop. “It’s over,” Hermione said, carefully climbing off the horse. Draco followed, and then they went next to the ride Sirius wanted.
Viking. Draco felt his stomach clench as he saw the people in a very large boat-shaped contraption which swung very high to the left and to the right screaming their heads off in fright, as though someone was cursing them.
“It looks scary, aunt ‘Mione,” Lillian said, clutching her hand tightly. Hermione gazed down at the girl and said gently, “Don’t worry, sweetie, aunt Hermione will be there with you so you have nothing to be scared of,”
Draco took this as an opportunity to escape. “Look, Hermione, why don’t you and Sirius just take that ride while Lillian and I stay down here and watch?” he asked.
“I want to ride it now, because I know aunt ‘Mione will be there with me,” Lillian shrieked, and Sirius said to Draco, “You aren’t scared, aren’t you?”
“You look pale, Draco,” Hermione added, touching him on the arm comfortingly. Draco shivered at her touch, his whole body suddenly alive with emotion. “You can stay here if you don’t feel like riding,”
“No, I’ll join you,” he found himself saying. Why, he had battled powerful wizards at the wizarding world before, so why should he be afraid of an odd contraption? Somehow that thought made him feel a little better.
And so when it was their turn to ride the Viking, Draco sat at the corner, fastened his seat belt, and clutched the rail until his knuckles were white. He was jolted out of his reverie when Hermione laid a warm hand on his cold one on the rail.
“It will be alright, Draco, trust me,” she said lightly as she squeezed his hand. “Just hold my hand when you feel scared,”
Draco let go of the rail and clutched her hand instead. Then the contraption began to move, slowly at first, then a little faster and higher. He held on tighter to her hand as his stomach turned at each up and down movement.
“Breathe in when we go up, then breathe out when we go down,” Hermione said, and Draco did as he was told. Soon, all his tension began to fade away, replace by thrill and excitement.
As the Viking went up, the people yelled, and as it went down, they screamed--- Draco now realized that it was not of fright, but of enjoyment, of fun. He even joined at the screaming, and he and Hermione laughed until the contraption slowed down again.
Blaise was wrong about the place after all; it wasn’t a place Draco would call hell, but heaven.
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After their adventure at the park, Draco and Hermione dropped the exhausted kids back at Godric’s Hollow before continuing their shopping spree. They bought the last piece of Draco’s costume, the black tights, then Draco offered to treat Hermione dinner before dropping her at her place.
Hermione couldn’t keep her eyes off Draco, who, in her whole existence, never thought would be acting this nicely towards her. He had been an immensely enjoyable company that day, making her laugh and feel relaxed. She also couldn’t help but notice his roguishly handsome face, and mind-addling smile, which sent bubbly shivers down her spine.
“Wine?” Draco asked, making a gesture towards the cold bottle of wine Madam Rosmerta had given them along with their orders. The soft light emitted by the candle on the table somehow made Draco’s face as boyish as it had been when they were still at Hogwarts; somehow the sight made Hermione’s stomach flutter, as she suddenly seemed catapulted back in time, when they couldn’t stand each other’s presence.
So much had really changed in the last two days. Who would have thought she and Draco would become this close? Surely, were they to encounter anyone who knew them back at Hogwarts, they would have squinted up the sky to see if pigs had begun to soar high above.
“Hermione, are you alright?” she was jolted back to reality by Draco’s worried voice. “Yes,” she replied automatically, heat rising her face in embarrassment. Had she been staring? “I’d like some wine,” she added, extending her goblet towards him and he slowly poured an acceptable amount in her glass.
“I’m just curious, but what have you been doing for the past years?” Hermione asked as a start of a conversation. Draco rolled his eyes at her. “As if the Prophet hasn’t been gossiping on my life almost everyday,” he said sarcastically.
“You can’t always trust the Daily Prophet, you know,” Hermione told him in a levelheaded voice, taking a dainty bite from her steak. She could feel Draco’s eyes on her lips, and she suppressed a shiver. “But did you really break off your engagement with Pansy?” she asked curiously.
Draco nodded, a dark look crossing his face. “She sent hate mail for about a month before I told her I would honestly file a case against her to the ministry if she won’t quit,” he said.
“Why did you break off the engagement in the first place?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask.
“She was a pain in the arse,” he answered without a hint of guilt about speaking ill of his ex-fiancé. “Always dragging me shop to shop, forcing me to buy her things, diving for my face for a wet snog in the middle of the street… and the last straw was when she shouted at mum for…” he stopped, his cheeks turning pink.
“For what?” Hermione pressed on, her curiosity piqued. She felt a burst of happiness in her heart that Draco decided not to marry Pansy, who did not seem to change one bit since they were at Hogwarts.
Draco cleared his throat before speaking again. Apparently, he was obviously embarrassed with what happened. “For daring to get close to a mudblood like you,” he said in a quiet voice.
Hermione stared at him in utter surprise. Draco broke off his engagement for her? Now that was totally far-off.
“W-why?” she stammered, still reeling from the shock
“She didn’t have a right to shout at my mother in the first place. Besides, it’s none of her goddamn business as to whom my mother gets close with,” Draco said, looking very uncomfortable with the topic.
“And…” Draco continued, when Hermione didn’t speak. “were she in your place seven years ago, with my mother in prison, I don’t reckon she’d inspire her like you did,”
Hermione felt a warm, tingly feeling flood her at Draco’s words. “And what do you think would she have done?” she asked, finally recovering from her astonishment.
“I think she would have whined until one of the Death Eaters’ tempers finally snap and decide to perform the killing curse on her,” Draco answered, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Hermione’s eyes accidentally strayed there a moment longer than intended, and she had this sudden urge to feel it against her fingertips.
“Anyway, enough about me, what have you been doing besides doing the boring job of an auror in the past seven years?” Draco asked, and Hermione fought to concentrate on his words. His lips were too damn enticing to watch in her opinion.
She forced herself to meet his eyes, and when she did, her heart did a somersault. His eyes looked at her questioningly and amusedly, as though he was wondering why she was staring at him so avidly.
“Me?” she managed to say in a high-pitched voice. She always sounded like that when she gets nervous. “My life’s been pretty boring, even the Prophet doesn’t seem to find it interesting enough for gossiping,”
Draco was eyeing her intently. “Still dating Weasel?” he asked wryly.
“W-what? Heavens, no! Ronald’s getting married to Luna this spring,” Hermione blurted out loudly.
“Do I detect jealousy in your tone?” Draco scoffed, playing idly with his fork.
Hermione glowered at him. “I was over Ron years ago,” she said vehemently. “If you say so,” Draco said in easy agreement, taking a sip of wine. That made Hermione all the more furious.
“You don’t sound as though you believe me,” she said with a glower. Draco grinned devilishly at her. “Why do you care whether I believe you or not?” he asked challengingly, and Hermione blushed.
“I don’t, so don’t flatter yourself,” she told him coolly, and he laughed. “You’re a pretty poor liar, Hermione Granger,” he said in his drawling voice, and Hermione’s heart skipped a few more beats than normal.
“Why do you care?” she shot back at him and he gave a pleased chuckle. “It pleases me,” he replied. “At least I’m aware you can’t be sneaky on me,”
“I can be sneaky when I want to,” she said, resisting the urge to punch away the skeptical look on his face. This man was very confusing! How could she want to kiss and hit him at the same time?
Then, as though reading her mind, Draco commented, “You look as though you’re making a particularly difficult decision, like if you’re going to hit me or not,”
“I am deciding on it,” Hermione admitted, not daring to reveal that she considered kissing him too.
“You know what? I’m also trying to make a decision, and I think I need your assistance,” Draco said seriously.
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“I’m deciding whether I should give in to something I’ve been urging to do all day,” he responded, his gray eyes boring into her confused ones. His gaze then fell on her lips, and she tensed up. Did he want to kiss her?
“It’s almost ten, I have to get home,” she said, quickly standing up, her face flustered. Draco also stood up, leaving some cash on the table for Rosmerta, before following Hermione out the door, who was walking at an amazingly fast pace.
“Hey, wait up!” Draco called out, walking in large strides to keep up with her. When he managed to get near her, he grabbed her arm and she finally slowed down.
“I can go home on my own,” she told him, her face averted away from him so he wouldn’t see how red her face was.
“I told you I’d accompany you,” he said firmly, and she protested no further. They walked in tensed silence, and slowly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Draco’s hand moved down from her arm to her hand, which he clasped lightly.
Hermione felt all tingly again at his touch, but she did not ease her hand away. Her house was located at Hogsmeade Village, a pretty little white bungalow with a flowery garden in front.
When they reached her front porch, she finally turned to him and said stiffly, “Thanks,”
She was about to turn away when his intense gray-eyed gaze stopped her. “I’ve finally decided,” he said, taking a step toward her, and Hermione, whose mind went totally scattered, stood rooted on the spot.
“On what?” she asked slowly, stalling.
Draco gave her a look that told her just what he wanted to do. He then reached over and took her face in his hands. The way he looked at her already made her knees weak; what more if he kissed her?
He was slowly leaning his face towards her, giving her all the time to flee. But how in the world could she?
But she had to. She’d be damned if she would let him kiss her.
“I don’t think doing this would be a good idea,” she blurted out, and Draco stared at her in confusion.
“I’m a mudblood, remember?” she asked hurriedly, trying to pull away from the circle of his arms, but he held her firmly in place.
“The hell I care,” he growled in a hard voice that Hermione actually flinched.
“You might not care now, but you will, when things get too complicated,” Hermione told him dryly.
“What the hell do you mean?” he asked exasperatedly.
“You won’t marry a mudblood,” those words tumbled out her mouth before she could stop herself. Draco’s eyes widened, then he gave a laugh.
“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” he asked with a smirk.
Hermione gave him a reproving glare, and he sobered up. “Kissing would lead to sexual arousal. Sexual arousal might lead us to my bed. Your seduction may cause my pregnancy. Were I to get pregnant, I wouldn’t be very happy having a child without a father,” she told him in a voice that made him think she was talking about their lessons back at school.
Then he laughed again at her wit. “Typical Granger, always thinking of the consequences first before taking action. No wonder the Death Eaters really wanted you dead,” he said.
Hermione’s dark scowl was her reply to him. Draco leaned over and kissed the frown away from her forehead. She actually let out a sigh, as though she liked what he just did.
“If I would get you pregnant, Hermione, I would stand by my responsibility,” he said seriously, and Hermione saw the sincerity in his eyes. He just might be telling the truth.
But that didn’t mean she would let him have his way.
“Your mother wouldn’t want you marrying a mudblood,” she told him pointedly. He scoffed as he said, “Actually, I think my mother would like you very much for an in-law. She was pretty sad when you left her seven years ago to work in Romania,”
“That doesn’t mean she would want me as her in-law,” Hermione said crossly. “And why are we talking about marriage anyway? I don’t even want to marry you,” she huffed.
“You started it,” Draco reminded her. “Kissing won’t lead us to marriage, you know,” he added with a roguish grin.
“Didn’t you listen to what I’ve said a while ago?” Hermione asked in frustration.
“Not unless you think I kiss very well that we would want to do more,” Draco said triumphantly, and Hermione colored.
“You’re an arrogant ass, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione seethed.
“I know I am,” he said cheerfully. “And you like it,”
“Goodnight,” she said briskly, pushing him away, and turning towards the door.
“What, no goodnight kiss?” Draco called out.
Hermione wished she hadn’t turned around to face him. He looked so boyishly handsome under the moonlight that it took every fiber of her being to stop herself from jumping on him.
She also wished she hadn’t lost herself once more in those limpid gray depths.
“It depends,” Hermione found herself saying, and a smile quirked his lips. “On what?” he asked.
“If you would promise not to enjoy too much,” she responded.
His smile grew bigger. “I think I should be the one to warn you that, Hermione,” he said in a low voice that made Hermione quiver with anticipation.
“Then I’ll pass this time,” she said after a few moments of tensed silence. “We wouldn’t want to end up, married, would we?”
“So we’re back to that, aren’t we?” Draco said lazily, cocking a brow at her.
“Yes, this conversation is pretty tiring, and it really is late. I’ll see you at the ball, Draco,” she said, turning away and walking towards her house, not daring to look back again.
She just might end up married if she did.
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“You’re smiling,” Narcissa commented as she watched her son lounge lazily by the balcony facing the garden with a contented smile on his lips.
Draco turned to his mother and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Good morning, mum,” he said lightly, then turning to gaze out at the garden once more.
“May I know why my son seems exceptionally happy today?” Narcissa queried, and her son let out a relaxed sigh. He only grinned in response, and Narcissa cocked a pale blonde brow at him.
“Is this concerning a woman?” she asked. Judging from her son’s widened smile, she had guessed right. “You and Pansy did not get back together, did you?” she asked suspiciously. Draco shook his head and just kept on smiling.
“So you’ve found a new one then,” Narcissa concluded. “I just hope she’s worthy of your attention, Draco,”
“I think you’ll find her perfectly fitting, mum,” Draco said confidently.
“And who might this young lady be?” Narcissa asked. “You’ll meet her at the ball on Friday,” Draco promised, elaborating no further, and his mother decided not to prod any longer.
“Speaking of the ball, have you gotten your costume?” Narcissa asked.
“Of course I did, I’m just adding some finishing touches to it,” Draco answered proudly, and Narcissa beamed at him. “So you managed to endure going to all those muggle shops?” she asked.
“It wasn’t too difficult at all,” Draco said. “In fact, I found it rather… enjoying,” he added, recalling Hermione.
“So you no longer care about blood status?” Narcissa asked softly. “I don’t,” Draco responded sincerely. “Were father alive, he would have been spitting mad, but I wouldn’t give a damn,”
“Yes, he would be quite furious how we have suddenly become blood traitors,” Narcissa agreed. “And I wouldn’t be alive today if a mudblood did not exist,” she said wistfully.
“Mum?” Draco called quietly. “Do I still need to live up the family tradition? You know, marrying a pureblood?”
Narcissa turned her blue eyes on her son. “I would accept whatever would make you happy, dear,” she said, and Draco gave her a tight hug.
“Thanks, mum.”
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“You look beautiful, Herms,”
Ginny Weasley breathed that statement in awe as she surveyed her best friend standing nervously before her.
“Promise?” Hermione asked in a frantic voice. Ginny nodded solemnly. “Go look into the mirror if you want further proof,” she advised, and Hermione walked over to her vanity mirror to check if Ginny wasn’t lying.
As she looked into the mirror, she saw herself wearing a white satin floor-length Grecian-styled gown with floaty material designs. Her hair was piled up in a loose bun, a few tendrils of curly brown hair framing her small face. On her back were transparent wings made of tenshi-bird feathers and atop her head was a yellow circle she charmed to glow brightly.
“Wow,” Ron had just entered the room, and he was gawking at Hermione as though he couldn’t believe what he just saw. Luna followed behind, and a huge smile split on her face when she saw her friend.
“You look terrific, Hermione,” she said, and Hermione gave a feeble thanks.
“You better go, the party would be starting soon,” Ginny suggested, and Hermione picked up her purse and gave them a wave before apparating outside the Malfoy Mansion.
The place was already packed with guests, and Hermione brought out her white mask which covered half her face and wore it on. She could feel people staring at her, fascinated as she ventured towards the ballroom, hearing their intrigued whispers about her identity.
“May I ask you for a dance?” said a smooth voice behind her. Hermione turned around and saw a tall guy with light-brown hair wearing a blue mask extending a gloved hand to her. She noticed he was wearing a prince charming costume.
“Uh, perhaps later,” she said slowly. “I’m looking for someone,”
“Wait a minute, your voice sounds familiar…” the man said, giving her a curious look. “It couldn’t be… Hermione Granger?” he said in disbelief.
“Yes,” Hermione said crisply. “And you are---?”
“Cormac. Cormac McLaggen,” he answered, taking a step towards her. Hermione felt a twinge of nervousness at the way he looked at her.
Just then, someone gave her a rather heavy tap on the shoulder. She spun around and saw a woman standing stiffly in front of her, wearing a deep red gown with a plunging neckline and a red horned mask. She had long straight blonde hair that looked vaguely familiar to Hermione.
“What’s a mudblood like you doing here?” she asked icily, and Hermione quickly recognized her. “Oh, hi, Pansy,” she said sweetly, and the blonde’s eyes narrowed.
“I was invited,” Hermione continued in the same sickeningly sweet voice. “What about you? How did you manage to snag an invitation? Stole it from someone, I suppose?”
Pansy’s eyes flashed. “For your information, this is a party hosted by my fiancé, you little bitch,” she hissed, and Hermione gave a laugh. “Fiancé? Are you talking about Draco Malfoy?” she asked.
Pansy was about to say something when a man wearing a costume which greatly resembled Peter Pan’s grabbed her arm. “Parkinson, leave now before Draco sees you and throws you out himself,” he said, and she spat out a string of curses as the man steered her away.
Hermione looked around and sighed in relief when she saw that Cormac had gone. Darn, she wanted to see Draco!
She walked further into the room, passing by familiar looking people whom she could only guess who because of their masks. She was asked again to dance by a lot of guys, but Hermione shyly refused them.
Just as she was about to head to the refreshment table, a woman with long, silky white-blonde hair walked towards her, wearing a gorgeous pale blue gown and a matching glittered mask.
“Hermione!” she said, and Hermione immediately recognized her as Narcissa. She rushed over to her friend and gave her a hug.
“How are you, my dear?” Narcissa asked when they pulled away. “Seven years have passed and I must say you’ve grown into a beautiful woman,”
Hermione smiled at the woman’s praise. “Just for tonight, Narcissa. I don’t usually look this grand in my regular days,” she said, and the older woman laughed.
“But you look totally stunning tonight, dear. I reckon you’ve been asked to dance a lot of times already?”
Hermione gave her a sheepish smile. “Just nine,” she said.
Narcissa was gazing across the room now. “Draco’s outside at the balcony, taking a breather,” she said nonchalantly. “The girls were all over him since he came out wearing that Zorro costume,”
Hermione felt a stab of jealousy at the mention of girls hanging all over Draco.
“I heard you assisted him in purchasing his costume,” Narcissa continued, looking at Hermione amusedly. “He wasn’t the same ever since,”
“What do you mean ‘not the same’?” Hermione queried, bewildered.
“There are more guests arriving, I must attend to them. Please excuse me, I’ll chat with you later,” Narcissa said in a voice that slightly reminded Hermione of Luna, giving her a sly smile before disappearing into the sea of dancing people.
Hermione then turned to walk towards the balcony, as she was truly dying to see him in his costume.
As she stepped outside, a cool breeze of the evening air welcomed her, tousling the stray locks around her face. Her gown swished with the air, brushing smoothly against her slippered feet.
She saw him standing there by the railing, his back to her. His white-blonde hair shone under the soft light of the moon, his black cape waving with each blow of the wind.
Then, as though sensing her presence, he turned about, a smile crossing his lips. Hermione felt her heart ram against her ribcage at the sight of him. He wore a black mask which really accentuated the silver of his eyes, a white long-sleeved saffron shirt, a black satin waistband, a pair of snug black pants and shiny boots. A sword was slung casually on his hip, and the smile he wore made his costume all the more perfect.
“Hello,” he said, walking towards her with the same disarming smile still on his lips. Hermione stayed immobile, staring at his handsomeness in open fascination.
He stopped when he was just about an inch or so from her. Hermione wished he would touch her, but he didn’t. He just grinned mischievously down at her, his gray eyes twinkling.
“I-I-” Hermione was at a loss of what to say to him, as her mind went totally blank. Draco looked at her questioningly, and she mumbled, “I think we should go inside,”
Draco leaned closer to her, so close that Hermione could smell his cologne-a scent so intoxicating she wanted to pull him to her fully so she can bury her face in his shoulder.
“Pardon? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he said, his warm breath fanning her face, and she bit her lip to stop herself from screaming for him to get away because her heart was racing so badly she felt breathless.
She swallowed before she spoke again. “I think we should- I think we should go inside,”
Comprehension dawned in his eyes, and he offered her his arm. “Shall we, then?” he asked, and Hermione reluctantly curled her arm around his as he led her back inside the ballroom.
“Since I have so gallantly escorted you inside, shall I have this dance?” Draco asked when they reached the middle of the dance floor. Hermione nodded mutely, and felt her whole body heat up when he gently placed his warm hands on her hips and he leaned over to whisper to her, “You have to put your arms around me,”
She did as she was told, and he graciously led her in the dancing, as she had suddenly become as stiff as board.
“Loosen up, Hermione,” Draco told her as they swayed to the music. “I’m not going to eat you, although you look quite delectable tonight,”
His comment made her all the more stiff. Her face was red too.
“Stop that,” she whispered in an aggravated tone. “I won’t be seduced by you tonight, Draco, by God I swear it,” she said, and he laughed.
“So my tactic’s working by the sound of your tone,” he said cheerfully. “Should I kiss you now?”
“NO!” Hermione seemed to have said too loudly that the people around them stared. Draco was still chuckling at her.
“Alright then, since I am a gentleman, I shall do it somewhere more private-and more convenient, because for all we know, we just might end up married,” he kidded, and Hermione shot him a venomous look.
“Ah, forgive my humor, Hermione, I just missed you because I had not seen you since you last rejected me for a kiss,”
Hermione flushed. “I did not reject you,” she said. “I was simply preventing something uncontrollable to happen,”
Draco was looking at her seriously now. “Why are you so afraid anyway?” he asked.
“You have been my enemy for the past years, if you must remember, and I’m not even sure if the way you’re treating me now is for real,” Hermione told him flatly.
“Can’t you tell?” Draco asked softly as he pulled her closer to him. Hermione’s heart was back to beating at an amazingly fast rate again. She did not pull away though. He felt so damn good to resist.
Slowly, she encircled her arms around his neck, and he tilted his face and leaned until his lips were just a breath away from her own. Hermione’s heart was in danger of leaping from her chest now, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. She had been dreaming of this moment since she last saw him.
But Draco Malfoy was surely up to some game. Instead of kissing her on the lips, he went for her chin instead. Then he stepped away, giving her a bow.
“May I dance with you, fair sir?” a young girl with bouncy red hair asked Draco, a saucy smile on her rouged lips. Hermione glared at the girl, while Draco grinned as he gently declined the offer.
Then, before Hermione could react, he dragged her back towards the empty balcony and hastily removed his mask. He backed Hermione into the cool wall and he slowly took her own mask off, his fingertips brushing sensually against her smooth skin.
When he was done with the task, he brushed his thumb across her trembling lips.
“Where shall I kiss you first?” he mused out loud. Hermione stared at him, her brown eyes mirroring her nervousness and anticipation. “Here?” he brushed his knuckles lightly against her cheeks, and she shuddered with delight. “Or here?” he gently touched her neck, his warm hand sliding down towards the spot below her collarbone.
Hermione felt ready to collapse. How could she have entangled herself in this situation?
Without another thought except having him kiss her now, she dragged his head down to hers and kissed him with all the whirlwind of emotions she had been feeling since the night began.
He seemed pretty surprised to respond at first, then, in a quicksilver moment, his body was draped over her as he kissed her back with the same urgency, his warm mouth brushing over hers in a manner that made her whole body pulse with need.
“Oh!”
A woman’s startled gasp made the couple break apart, Hermione red and looking very embarrassed and Draco looking annoyed that someone had dared to interrupt them.
“Oh, Blaise, hi,” Draco said dryly when he spotted his friend standing beside a petite woman with a heavily coiled brown hair. “What a nice time for you to show up,”
Blaise Zabini was looking at Hermione with the usual look she received back at school from the pureblooded Slytherins. She felt ashamed when she felt tears building up her eyes.
She should not have let that stupid kiss happen. How was she so sure that Draco was not secretly giving her that very same disgusted look?
“And I thought you had class, Draco,” Blaise said, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’re better off alone than trysting around with a mudblood like there’s no other girl left,”
Blaise’s words sent a knifing sensation into Hermione’s heart, and two tears leaked out from her eyes. Draco saw this and he gently wiped the wetness away with his thumb.
“Don’t listen to him,” he whispered, before turning to walk towards Blaise, who was still standing there with his woman.
“I don’t care about blood status anymore, you hear me?” Draco said in a dangerously soft voice, and Blaise cocked a brow at him.
“You might be pretty smitten with her right now, but I’m sure you’ll be regretting in the future that you dared to touch her filthiness,” Blaise said cruelly, and Draco’s hand fisted into a tight ball.
“If you haven’t got anything better to say, I’d suggest you leave this party now before I bring out my wand,” Draco said, and Blaise gave Hermione one last malicious look before disappearing back inside with the girl.
When they were alone again, Draco turned and saw her slumped against the wall, her face obscured by the locks of hair that had fallen from her coiffure.
“Hermione…” slowly he walked towards her, and she gave a low sob.
“Don’t come near me,” she said weakly, but he did not pay heed to her feeble plea. He kneeled in front of her and brushed the strands of hair from her tear-streaked face.
“Hermione…”
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, more tears falling down her face. “I’m a mudblood, and you might dirty your regal hands,” she bit off, pushing his hand away.
Draco eyed her in disbelief. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” he asked in a hard voice. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t give a bloody damn anymore of blood status?”
“You can stop being grateful to me for saving your mother because I do not need your gratitude, Malfoy,” she said, her voice rising as well.
She could have sworn she saw Draco roll his eyes as though they were speaking of petty things.
“You’re really daft, Hermione Granger,” he said exasperatedly. “Listen to me. I am not doing this to you as a show of gratitude for your heroic deed seven years ago. I am doing this because I like you as you are. Damn, I can’t believe I just admitted that!”
His last comment made her smile. “You really like me?” she asked shyly, and he gave a solemn nod. “Want me to prove how much I do?” he asked challengingly, his hands moving to the sides of her face.
“I’d love that,” she whispered as she met his lips in a sweet kiss that told her he meant what he just said.
From the doorway, Narcissa thanked Blaise for playing along with her plans, where he just waved her off, saying, “He looked like he wanted to punch me, that ass. He doesn’t know Isabelle here is also muggle-born,” and kissing the dark-haired girl lovingly on the cheek.
Narcissa smiled at the couple, then turned her gaze back to her son, who was wrapped in a passionate embrace with the girl she had once thought unworthy of their race, but had made had made a very big difference in her life.
She guaranteed a marriage in the next month.
-end-
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A/n: Whew! Finished it at last! Hope it wasn’t overly long… (okay, so it was long, but I did that to compensate for my shortcomings) Anyway, and thank you for reading of you’ve come this far! Dramione rocks. =)
Three things you want your fic to include:To take place during
Halloween and for it to be a masquerade. 2. Make Draco dress up as
Zorro (dress Hermione into any costume.) 3. Have some snogging and
all that good stuff >P
Three things you do not want your fic to include:Going to fast,
make some kind of -adventures- for them during the preperateion. 2.
Slutty characters.
Anything specific that you do not want to write: Don't make it too
boring, I want some adventure! Steal other plots, make your own! No
fully light fiction, I want some dark man >P
Thank-you for Celebrating the Season with Draco and Hermione!
Author: Cenagurl
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Summary: Hermione Granger helps Draco Malfoy in purchasing his Halloween costume. What chaos could possibly ensue?
Untitled by cenagurl
A/n: Okay, so first of all I would like to apologize to the person whom I offer this request to, because of my unforgivable tardiness (but my computer crashed, so wouldn’t that be sort of a valid reason?). This fic goes out to Camille, and these are her requirements:
Rating(s) you’re willing to write: PG-13 to NC-17
Rating(s) of the fic you want:PG-13 to NC-17
Three things you want your fic to include: 1. To take place during
Halloween and for it to be a masquerade. 2. Make Draco dress up as
Zorro (dress Hermione into any costume.) 3. Have some snogging and
all that good stuff >P
Three things you do not want your fic to include:1. Going to fast,
make some kind of -adventures- for them during the preperateion. 2.
Slutty characters.
Anything specific that you do not want to write: Don't make it too
boring, I want some adventure! Steal other plots, make your own! No
fully light fiction, I want some dark man >P
Well, I hope I have met at least half of your expectations. =) Read on…
Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me, by the way.
000000
Draco Black Malfoy cursed himself for feeling a wave of queasy nervousness at the pit of his stomach as he waited for Hermione the next day outside the bookshop. Crabbe and Goyle told him the muggle world was a dangerous place; snake-like vehicles moving about carrying disgruntled-looking people, devices which show things that scare the living hell out of you, and one time, Blaise shared to him that he passed by a place full of weird contraptions that the muggles rode in, making them scream and throw up. He called that place hell.
He hoped Hermione wouldn’t let him come across such things.
His thoughts were obstructed when he spotted a familiar bushy head in the crowd, and he felt his tension heighten.
“Sorry I’m late,” Hermione said when she reached him, locks of curly brown hair floating around her face with each playful breeze. She wore a pale blue cashmere sweater and a short pleated skirt that covered only half her thighs. She also wore some legwarmers and a scarf around her neck that accentuated her outfit.
Draco had to admit she looked presentable enough. Okay, so she looked a wee bit pretty today, for a mudblood.
“It’s alright,” he found himself saying. “Are we leaving now?” he felt his stomach churn at the idea.
“Not if you’re looking green like that,” Hermione answered, peering at him worriedly. “Do you want to go to the bathroom?”
Draco shook his head, and Hermione reluctantly led him to the secret wall that separated Diagon Alley from the muggle world. Draco felt ready to pee on his pants as they exited Tom’s bar; the main reason was because he was led to a busy-looking street with those weird vehicles honking and blaring angrily.
“You’re looking very… ill,” Hermione observed as she steered the stiff-looking blonde towards the other side of the road. “Are you really alright?”
Draco gave a weak nod, but expanded no further. When they reached the other side of the street, Hermione brought out a piece of parchment from her pocket, which she handed to the still green Draco.
Draco peered at the paper anxiously, and saw that a brief history on Zorro’s life was written in it, along with the list for the materials needed for his costume.
“Wow, Granger, you sure did your homework,” Draco said in awe, giving Hermione an appraising look. Hermione felt her heart accelerate with the look he gave her, but then again, it was not everyday that she received praises from her ex-nemesis.
“Finding Zorro’s costume isn’t too difficult at all,” Hermione said. “In fact, all the things needed for his costume can be found at the boutiques around here,” as she said that, she pulled out another piece of paper from her pocket, which contained a rather wrinkled picture of Zorro.
“Hell, the guy looks like a bandit or something,” Draco commented. “I thought he was a hero,” he added with a puzzled look.
“He is a hero,” Hermione said briskly, shooting a slanted look at a couple of teenagers passing by them who were smiling flirtatiously at her companion. She was surprised to see Draco actually smiling back, so she gave him a pinch on the arm.
“Ouch! What did you do that for, Granger?” he asked, rubbing the place she had pinched.
“They are muggles, if I must remind you, Malfoy.”
He shot her a challenging look. “So? They don’t seem so bad,”
Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring the stab of jealousy that seemed to creep out of nowhere. Those women only smiled at him and he accepted them easily, not caring about their bloodlines, whereas she had to save his mother to gain his respect?
No, that wasn’t fair.
“Watch where you’re going, lassie!”
Hermione was so preoccupied wit her thoughts that she didn’t realize that she had crossed the street on a go signal. Cars around her were honking angrily, and Draco clutched her arm like a frightened child.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said embarrassedly as she hurried to get on the other side, Draco in tow. She felt him shaking against her as they slowed their pace once more.
“Are you alright?” she queried, looking into his ashen face. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“We’re almost at Bobson’s now,” Hermione announced as they rounded up a corner. “We’ll be heading a little over the south to get the first thing you need for Zorro’s costume,”
“And what is that?”
“His trademark mask.”
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Approximately five and a quarter hours after they had started their shopping adventure, Hermione led an exhausted-looking Draco to a teahouse across the store where they just bought the perfect boots to go with the Zorro costume.
As Hermione ordered a couple of tea and some cakes, Draco leaned back on his seat, running a hand through his miraculously disheveled blonde hair. His eyes were closed, and his face was scrunched up in a grimace.
“Are you alright?” she asked for about the fiftieth time that day, and he shook his head. “My head’s aching like hell, and my feet are sore from all the bloody walking and my back feels like it’s going to snap in---”
“I quite understand what you’re feeling,” Hermione cut off. “I feel just exhausted as you are, and I’m not complaining,”
Draco’s eyes snapped open, and he leaned towards her and gave her hands that were propped on the table a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Granger, It’s my fault you’re also feeling lousy,” he apologized, and Hermione burst out laughing. “What?” he asked, annoyed.
“What you just said, it seemed a little--- far-off, in my opinion. It isn’t something I ever dreamed you’d say to me. I mean, a high and mighty Malfoy like you, apologizing for giving me a hard time? It’s quite a wonder that I still don’t see pigs soaring up the sky,” she told him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Draco felt heat rise in his face. “Fine,” he said heatedly. “If you prefer I act as bastardly as I did back at school---”
“No, I’m not saying I did not like what you just did,” Hermione clarified, amused to see that she had somehow flustered the stone-cold boy who used to show little emotion. “In fact, it’s quite an improvement. I just never thought you would change from the snotty brat that you were seven years ago,”
“Who says I’m no longer a snotty brat?” he countered. “Well at least you’ve begun acting more civilly this time,” Hermione answered cheerfully.
“I’ve matured,” Draco said, and Hermione cocked a brow. “Really? Then why all the whining and complaining?” she kidded, and Draco scowled.
“My delicate body’s not used to all those roughhousing, you know,” he shot back in a teasing voice. “Unlike you who’s as strong as a horse, moving about like there’s no tomorrow,”
“Excuse me, but I was just trying to fit buying all your things in the few hours we have today,” Hermione said.
“Can’t we finish our shopping tomorrow? I’m pooped,” Draco said, a look of relief on his face when their orders arrived. “I’m so damned hungry,”
“I’m going to the amusement park with Harry and Ginny’s kids tomorrow,” Hermione said as she took a bite from her bagel. “That’s why we have to finish this today,”
“You’re going to baby-sit for Potter?” he asked incredulously, pausing midway into taking a sip from his tea.
“If you wish to call it as such. I prefer to call it quality-time,” Hermione replied.
“Then what about the day after that?”
“I have an appointment with my orthodontist,” she said, and he looked at her quizzically. “What in Merlin is that?” he asked, and Hermione was more than glad to explain to him the basics about having the perfect teeth.
“Okay. The day after your visit to the dentist?” Draco asked hopefully. “I have to report to the ministry the latest on the hag assassinations in Romania,” Hermione answered, and Draco’s face crumpled.
“I’m going to be really busy in the next days, so we really should finish the shopping today,” Hermione told him in a sensible tone.
Suddenly, Draco’s face brightened up. “Okay, how about this--- I’ll go with you and Potter’s kids tomorrow in whatever place you’re taking them, then we’ll shop afterwards,” Draco said. “After all, the only things we haven’t bought yet are the sword and the--- the---” his face scrunched up in distaste, and Hermione laughed.
“The black tights,” she said for him, and his scowl grew bigger. “Okay, you can come with me and the kids, but you have to promise you’ll be nice to them,” she gave him a warning look.
“I’ll try,” he answered slowly; he was not too fond of kids after all. And it was Potter’s kids they’re talking about. “They can be quite playful and a tad too excited sometimes, so I’m warning you--- they’re not too easy to handle,” Hermione informed him, and he said in his lazy drawl, “A Malfoy can handle anything,”
“If you say so,” Hermione said skeptically. “Anyway, I’ll meet you tomorrow at Godric’s Hollow--- that’s where Harry and Ginny live--- nine sharp, okay?”
Draco nodded, not knowing that he had just sealed a ticket to the place Blaise called hell.
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Draco thought the kids the devil’s spawns.
The moment he stepped into the front hall of the Potter’s residence, two high-pitched shrieks were heard all over the house, followed by loud bangs and a crash.
“Lillian! Sirius!” came a woman’s voice from upstairs. The noise stopped at once, and two kids about four years of age came running from the room on his right, a girl and a boy.
The girl had long black hair and large brown eyes. The boy on the other hand, had flaming red hair which stuck out in different directions, like Potter’s had back at school, and bright green eyes.
“Muuuummy!” Lillian screamed. “Sirius took Matilda’s head off again, and he tossed it outside the window!” she shot the boy a nasty look, and he stuck out his tongue in response.
Then, as though just noticing their presence, the girl gave another ear-splitting shriek and rushed towards them, a huge smile on her little face.
“Aunt ‘Mione!” she chirped, giving a giggle when Hermione scooped her up and twirled her around. Draco watched them in fascination, his heart suddenly racing at the sight of Hermione holding a child so tenderly, with a beautiful smile on her lips.
He wanted to see her hold their child like that.
Now where did that come from? He mentally asked himself. It was not like he was planning on having a baby with her. He still had a family tradition to hold on to, but somehow, he found himself not caring whether she was a mudblood or not. She had saved his mother after all. And she helped him with his costume shopping. That really sets her apart from the others.
His train of thought was disrupted when he saw the little boy edging towards him with a naughty look in his eyes. Without thinking, Draco began to back away, shooting an uneasy look at Hermione, who didn’t seem to smell the danger.
She was talking animatedly to the little girl, who was listening raptly to every word she said. Hermione’s eyes were alight with glee, and mischief as well, and her cheeks were turning rosy from all the excitement. A few locks of curly brown hair had already fallen from her braid, somehow flattering the shape of her face even more. Draco cursed himself for thinking she looked adorable.
Draco’s gray eyes snapped back to the boy, who was only a couple of steps from him now. Draco inwardly cringed when his back hit the cool green wall--- a dead end. He looked down at the boy, who was grinning like a rascal now; slowly he inserted his pointing finger in his right nostril, then, as quick as lightning, wiped it on Draco’s expensive khaki pants.
Draco bellowed in outrage and disgust just as the boy turned and ran upstairs, laughing maniacally all the way. Hermione and the little girl jumped in surprise, and Draco shot a livid look at her direction.
“The brat,” he said slowly, each word punctuated with an angry note. “wiped snot on my pants.”
Hermione looked as though she was containing her laughter. She was about to reply when Ginny came bounding the stairs, her vivid red hair flying behind her.
“Hermione! How long have you been here? Harry just left--- the ministry needs him early today--- Malfoy, what are you doing in my house?” Ginny said all these in a single breath. Lillian had wriggled her way out of Hermione’s arms and went running towards her mother with a happy shriek, babbling about something Draco had no inking of.
“Oh, he’ll be accompanying me and the kids at the amusement park,” Hermione said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Ginny stared at her like she was mad.
“I didn’t know you two are… cozy,” she said, baffled.
“I’ll explain the situation sometime,” Hermione said kindly. “Are the kids all set?”
“Will the kids be safe?” Ginny blurted out.
Hermione gave her a surprised look. “Of course they will be. Are you questioning my capability to take care of them?” she demanded, half-joking, half-serious.
“I have absolute faith in you, Hermione. It’s your companion I do not trust,” Ginny said pointedly, and Draco gave her a cool stare.
“Then your bloody kids won’t come with me and Granger. We have better things to do than baby-sit them,” he said smoothly, and Ginny glared at him.
“We are taking the kids to the park,” Hermione positively growled at him, and he had the good sense to shut up. “He won’t do anything to them, I promise to you, Gins,” she said.
Ginny reluctantly agreed, and ten minutes later, they were off.
Little Sirius didn’t look one bit guilty about wiping snot on Draco; on the other hand, he kept shooting him triumphant looks that made Draco itch to jinx the boy.
“We’re going to the amusement park in my world today,” Hermione announced cheerfully to the kids as they walked across the street. “So we’ll be traveling the muggle-way--- wouldn’t that be exciting?”
Lillian nodded vigorously. “Will we be riding a train?” she asked excitedly. “We will be, sweetie,” Hermione told the girl gently. She then glanced up at Draco, who was watching her with his intense gray eyes. She blushed at the look he gave her; he smirked in reply.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced you yet!” Hermione suddenly said. “Lillian, Sirius, I would like you to meet Draco. Draco, these are Lillian and Sirius. Lillian just turned four last month and Sirius is five years old,”
“Five years, three months and nine days old,” Sirius corrected in a bossy voice. “Hi, uncle Dwaco,” Lillian said shyly, giving Draco a friendly little smile. Draco decided he liked the little girl.
They crossed a few more streets before arriving at an old bar similar to the Leaky Cauldron. They went inside and went out through the backdoor, right into the muggle world, where Draco saw countless noisy contraptions once again, honking and blaring angrily.
The kids seemed delighted to see these though. “You have a car like that, don’t you, aunt ‘Mione?” Lillian asked, pointing at a small red car parked at the sidewalk. “Yes, in fact I do,” Hermione replied, barely noticing Draco’s ashen face.
Sirius noticed it though. “Are you going to throw up?” he asked, his eyes wide with eagerness. “That would be totally cool,”
“No, I am not,” Draco bit off, dragging the kid as they walked towards the station. “Aww, too bad,” Sirius said. “I guess you still need to eat some of mum’s cabbage soup to throw up--- I did twice, and it was icky but fun,”
The child’s comment made Draco laugh out loud. Hermione gave Sirius a reproving glance though. “But it’s true!” Sirius burst out, and little Lillian nodded empathically at her brother.
“It tastes horrible aunt ‘Mione, even dad hates it,” Lillian said. “Last night we saw him throw all the soup on his plate outside the window and tell mum he finished it all already,”
Even Hermione smiled this time. The four of them continued an easy conversation as they boarded the train, Draco slowly losing his nervousness and dislike to the boy who besmirched his pants with bogey.
As they stepped out from the train, Lillian had let out a loud shriek as she spotted a candy shop across the street. Hermione then led them to the shop, and let the kids choose the sweets they wanted. Lillian got several lollipops, while Sirius complained.
“Don’t they have chocolate frogs here? And where are the acid pops? The cockroach clusters?” he asked loudly, and Hermione shushed him up. The little boy chose a few bars of Mars, then, along with a large bag of M&M’s.
“Why don’t you pick something, Draco?” Hermione asked, and Draco felt an odd sense of contentment at the sound of his name on her lips. “It’s on me, I know you haven’t tasted any muggle sweet yet,” she added in a whisper.
So Draco picked up a large Butterfinger bar, and Hermione paid all their purchases at the counter. As they went out of the shop, Hermione turned to the kids and said, “Were going to ride a bus now, then we’re off to the amusement park,” she said, and the children squealed with glee.
Draco was back to looking uncertain again. He had never ridden a bus before, even in the wizarding world.
He was a nervous wreck by the time they were about to board the bus, and Hermione saw how white his face was. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern in her voice.
“Yes,” he replied, but he felt very queasy.
“Why don’t you eat your chocolate bar?” Sirius asked him as they sat at the back of the bus. “We’ll see if it really tastes like fingers with butter,”
Hermione looked horrified at the child’s words. “Sirius James Potter, you will not say such disgusting things again. Don’t listen to him, Draco,” she said as she unwrapped another lollipop for Lillian.
Draco then unwrapped his chocolate bar and took a small bite from it. It tasted heavenly; he took another bite, this time a big one, and continued to munch on it until none was left.
“You look like you’re going to eat the wrapper too,” Sirius remarked, and Hermione laughed. “I’ll buy you more when we reach the park,” Hermione promised Draco, who gave a feeble thanks, his face pink.
When they reached the entrance of the park, Draco was greeted by a noisy mob of people milling about, some laughing, some licking lollipops, and some looking ready to throw up. There were vendors everywhere, selling colored hats, stuffed toys, and little souvenirs as well.
“I’m going to buy us tickets, you and the kids wait here okay?” Hermione told Draco, and disappeared before he could protest.
“Uncle Dwaco, I want that dollie over there!” Lillian shrieked, tugging at Draco’s hand with her sticky little fingers. It took all Draco’s strength not to shout at the little girl for dirtying his hand with a mix of her lollipop and saliva.
“Okay,” he said instead, and Sirius lagged behind them as he led the little girl to the shop, looking blissfully at the display of jester hats and bonnets. Lillian pointed the largest doll with long curly brown hair and big brown eyes and Draco asked the vendor for the price.
“I’ll give you twenty pounds for that, ‘andsome,” said the vendor with a flirtatious smile. Draco looked at her quizzically. Twenty pounds? Was she going to hit him for asking the doll’s price? Was the doll not for sale?
“I’d like to see you try and pound me, madam. Tell me the bloody price so I can get out of here,”
It was the woman’s turn to give him a bewildered look. “Are you on drugs, son?” she asked kindly, and Draco grew more confused. He bit back a retort though.
“Just tell me the price, and I’ll pay, okay?” he finally ground out in a calm voice.
“I just told ye, sonnie. Twenty pounds it is,”
Just then, Hermione appeared beside Draco, the tickets clutched in her hand. “Are you going to buy something?” she asked, and Draco nodded. “Lillian wants that doll over there, and this woman tells me she wants to pound me twenty times to get it,”
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, then she burst out laughing. She then leaned close to enlighten him.
“Pounds is the currency here in the muggle world,” she whispered in his ear, and Draco couldn’t help but shiver at her light breath against his lobe.
“I don’t have any muggle money with me,” he whispered back, embarrassed. “I’ll pay for this one first. You can pay me back later,” Hermione replied, giving him an impish grin before getting a few wads of cash from her wallet.
“Yay!” Lillian gave an excited shriek as Draco handed her the doll. “Thanks a lot, uncle Dwaco! I’m going to name this dollie ‘Mione because she looks like aunt ‘Mione,”
Draco examined the doll, and saw that what she said was true. Now he wanted one for himself. He wanted to kick himself for such ludicrous thoughts.
“Shall we come in now?” Hermione asked brightly.
“But aunt Hermione, I want that hat over there,” Sirius groused, eyes on the multi-colored jester’s hat on the shop across them. “Okay, we’ll buy you one,” Hermione promised, and the boy’s face lit up with joy.
“And I want Lillian and uncle Draco and you to wear one too!” Sirius added with a roguish smile. Hermione smiled in reply while Draco scowled. The hat looked bloody stupid to him, and he’d rather walk naked than put one on his head.
But a few minutes later, as they entered the park, Draco trailed behind them, a deep scowl on his face as he willed himself not to throw the hat he wore away. It was a bloody jester’s hat, complete with four small silver bells. He hated it.
“Where would you like to ride first?” he heard Hermione ask the kids, and Lillian, as usual, gave a loud shriek. “I want to ride the ponies over there!” she screamed, pointing at a large, round contraption with horses stuck in the middle, going round and round.
So off they went to the merry-go-round. Lillian wanted a pony to herself, and Sirius sat on a coach with some other kids while munching on his chocolate bars. Hermione and Draco had to share a pony because everywhere else was full; Hermione was sitting in front of Draco, her legs on the side of the horse and her hand on its head.
“Why do people ride here in this stupid fake horses?” Draco asked. “I mean, couldn’t they just saddle up real horses? That would be more fun than this,”
“Well, it is safer this way,” Hermione told him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “At least you won’t worry about the horse throwing you off or something,”
Draco was acutely aware of how close they were. Her cheek was practically touching his face, and he could smell her hair--- it smelled like vanilla, and it was driving him insane.
“Hermione,” he called out softly, loving the sound of her name in his lips. She turned to look at him, surprise visible in her brown eyes.
“You called me Hermione,” she said in awe. “Not mudblood, not Granger, not snotty-know-it-all, but Hermione,” a huge smile tugged at her lips, and Draco felt as though he was punched in the stomach.
She looked too beautiful that he had the sudden urge to kiss her. It took all his strength to hold back, and he managed in a sort of strangled voice, “And why are you surprised? You also called me by my first name today. Isn’t that just fair?”
“I guess so,” Hermione replied with a wistful note in her voice. “And I just love the way my name sounds in your lips,” she said before she could stop herself. Draco saw heat rise up her face, and he almost laughed at her adorable expression.
Oh, how he wanted to kiss her!
Then, as though reading his dirty mind, the ride suddenly lurched to a stop. “It’s over,” Hermione said, carefully climbing off the horse. Draco followed, and then they went next to the ride Sirius wanted.
Viking. Draco felt his stomach clench as he saw the people in a very large boat-shaped contraption which swung very high to the left and to the right screaming their heads off in fright, as though someone was cursing them.
“It looks scary, aunt ‘Mione,” Lillian said, clutching her hand tightly. Hermione gazed down at the girl and said gently, “Don’t worry, sweetie, aunt Hermione will be there with you so you have nothing to be scared of,”
Draco took this as an opportunity to escape. “Look, Hermione, why don’t you and Sirius just take that ride while Lillian and I stay down here and watch?” he asked.
“I want to ride it now, because I know aunt ‘Mione will be there with me,” Lillian shrieked, and Sirius said to Draco, “You aren’t scared, aren’t you?”
“You look pale, Draco,” Hermione added, touching him on the arm comfortingly. Draco shivered at her touch, his whole body suddenly alive with emotion. “You can stay here if you don’t feel like riding,”
“No, I’ll join you,” he found himself saying. Why, he had battled powerful wizards at the wizarding world before, so why should he be afraid of an odd contraption? Somehow that thought made him feel a little better.
And so when it was their turn to ride the Viking, Draco sat at the corner, fastened his seat belt, and clutched the rail until his knuckles were white. He was jolted out of his reverie when Hermione laid a warm hand on his cold one on the rail.
“It will be alright, Draco, trust me,” she said lightly as she squeezed his hand. “Just hold my hand when you feel scared,”
Draco let go of the rail and clutched her hand instead. Then the contraption began to move, slowly at first, then a little faster and higher. He held on tighter to her hand as his stomach turned at each up and down movement.
“Breathe in when we go up, then breathe out when we go down,” Hermione said, and Draco did as he was told. Soon, all his tension began to fade away, replace by thrill and excitement.
As the Viking went up, the people yelled, and as it went down, they screamed--- Draco now realized that it was not of fright, but of enjoyment, of fun. He even joined at the screaming, and he and Hermione laughed until the contraption slowed down again.
Blaise was wrong about the place after all; it wasn’t a place Draco would call hell, but heaven.
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After their adventure at the park, Draco and Hermione dropped the exhausted kids back at Godric’s Hollow before continuing their shopping spree. They bought the last piece of Draco’s costume, the black tights, then Draco offered to treat Hermione dinner before dropping her at her place.
Hermione couldn’t keep her eyes off Draco, who, in her whole existence, never thought would be acting this nicely towards her. He had been an immensely enjoyable company that day, making her laugh and feel relaxed. She also couldn’t help but notice his roguishly handsome face, and mind-addling smile, which sent bubbly shivers down her spine.
“Wine?” Draco asked, making a gesture towards the cold bottle of wine Madam Rosmerta had given them along with their orders. The soft light emitted by the candle on the table somehow made Draco’s face as boyish as it had been when they were still at Hogwarts; somehow the sight made Hermione’s stomach flutter, as she suddenly seemed catapulted back in time, when they couldn’t stand each other’s presence.
So much had really changed in the last two days. Who would have thought she and Draco would become this close? Surely, were they to encounter anyone who knew them back at Hogwarts, they would have squinted up the sky to see if pigs had begun to soar high above.
“Hermione, are you alright?” she was jolted back to reality by Draco’s worried voice. “Yes,” she replied automatically, heat rising her face in embarrassment. Had she been staring? “I’d like some wine,” she added, extending her goblet towards him and he slowly poured an acceptable amount in her glass.
“I’m just curious, but what have you been doing for the past years?” Hermione asked as a start of a conversation. Draco rolled his eyes at her. “As if the Prophet hasn’t been gossiping on my life almost everyday,” he said sarcastically.
“You can’t always trust the Daily Prophet, you know,” Hermione told him in a levelheaded voice, taking a dainty bite from her steak. She could feel Draco’s eyes on her lips, and she suppressed a shiver. “But did you really break off your engagement with Pansy?” she asked curiously.
Draco nodded, a dark look crossing his face. “She sent hate mail for about a month before I told her I would honestly file a case against her to the ministry if she won’t quit,” he said.
“Why did you break off the engagement in the first place?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask.
“She was a pain in the arse,” he answered without a hint of guilt about speaking ill of his ex-fiancé. “Always dragging me shop to shop, forcing me to buy her things, diving for my face for a wet snog in the middle of the street… and the last straw was when she shouted at mum for…” he stopped, his cheeks turning pink.
“For what?” Hermione pressed on, her curiosity piqued. She felt a burst of happiness in her heart that Draco decided not to marry Pansy, who did not seem to change one bit since they were at Hogwarts.
Draco cleared his throat before speaking again. Apparently, he was obviously embarrassed with what happened. “For daring to get close to a mudblood like you,” he said in a quiet voice.
Hermione stared at him in utter surprise. Draco broke off his engagement for her? Now that was totally far-off.
“W-why?” she stammered, still reeling from the shock
“She didn’t have a right to shout at my mother in the first place. Besides, it’s none of her goddamn business as to whom my mother gets close with,” Draco said, looking very uncomfortable with the topic.
“And…” Draco continued, when Hermione didn’t speak. “were she in your place seven years ago, with my mother in prison, I don’t reckon she’d inspire her like you did,”
Hermione felt a warm, tingly feeling flood her at Draco’s words. “And what do you think would she have done?” she asked, finally recovering from her astonishment.
“I think she would have whined until one of the Death Eaters’ tempers finally snap and decide to perform the killing curse on her,” Draco answered, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Hermione’s eyes accidentally strayed there a moment longer than intended, and she had this sudden urge to feel it against her fingertips.
“Anyway, enough about me, what have you been doing besides doing the boring job of an auror in the past seven years?” Draco asked, and Hermione fought to concentrate on his words. His lips were too damn enticing to watch in her opinion.
She forced herself to meet his eyes, and when she did, her heart did a somersault. His eyes looked at her questioningly and amusedly, as though he was wondering why she was staring at him so avidly.
“Me?” she managed to say in a high-pitched voice. She always sounded like that when she gets nervous. “My life’s been pretty boring, even the Prophet doesn’t seem to find it interesting enough for gossiping,”
Draco was eyeing her intently. “Still dating Weasel?” he asked wryly.
“W-what? Heavens, no! Ronald’s getting married to Luna this spring,” Hermione blurted out loudly.
“Do I detect jealousy in your tone?” Draco scoffed, playing idly with his fork.
Hermione glowered at him. “I was over Ron years ago,” she said vehemently. “If you say so,” Draco said in easy agreement, taking a sip of wine. That made Hermione all the more furious.
“You don’t sound as though you believe me,” she said with a glower. Draco grinned devilishly at her. “Why do you care whether I believe you or not?” he asked challengingly, and Hermione blushed.
“I don’t, so don’t flatter yourself,” she told him coolly, and he laughed. “You’re a pretty poor liar, Hermione Granger,” he said in his drawling voice, and Hermione’s heart skipped a few more beats than normal.
“Why do you care?” she shot back at him and he gave a pleased chuckle. “It pleases me,” he replied. “At least I’m aware you can’t be sneaky on me,”
“I can be sneaky when I want to,” she said, resisting the urge to punch away the skeptical look on his face. This man was very confusing! How could she want to kiss and hit him at the same time?
Then, as though reading her mind, Draco commented, “You look as though you’re making a particularly difficult decision, like if you’re going to hit me or not,”
“I am deciding on it,” Hermione admitted, not daring to reveal that she considered kissing him too.
“You know what? I’m also trying to make a decision, and I think I need your assistance,” Draco said seriously.
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“I’m deciding whether I should give in to something I’ve been urging to do all day,” he responded, his gray eyes boring into her confused ones. His gaze then fell on her lips, and she tensed up. Did he want to kiss her?
“It’s almost ten, I have to get home,” she said, quickly standing up, her face flustered. Draco also stood up, leaving some cash on the table for Rosmerta, before following Hermione out the door, who was walking at an amazingly fast pace.
“Hey, wait up!” Draco called out, walking in large strides to keep up with her. When he managed to get near her, he grabbed her arm and she finally slowed down.
“I can go home on my own,” she told him, her face averted away from him so he wouldn’t see how red her face was.
“I told you I’d accompany you,” he said firmly, and she protested no further. They walked in tensed silence, and slowly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Draco’s hand moved down from her arm to her hand, which he clasped lightly.
Hermione felt all tingly again at his touch, but she did not ease her hand away. Her house was located at Hogsmeade Village, a pretty little white bungalow with a flowery garden in front.
When they reached her front porch, she finally turned to him and said stiffly, “Thanks,”
She was about to turn away when his intense gray-eyed gaze stopped her. “I’ve finally decided,” he said, taking a step toward her, and Hermione, whose mind went totally scattered, stood rooted on the spot.
“On what?” she asked slowly, stalling.
Draco gave her a look that told her just what he wanted to do. He then reached over and took her face in his hands. The way he looked at her already made her knees weak; what more if he kissed her?
He was slowly leaning his face towards her, giving her all the time to flee. But how in the world could she?
But she had to. She’d be damned if she would let him kiss her.
“I don’t think doing this would be a good idea,” she blurted out, and Draco stared at her in confusion.
“I’m a mudblood, remember?” she asked hurriedly, trying to pull away from the circle of his arms, but he held her firmly in place.
“The hell I care,” he growled in a hard voice that Hermione actually flinched.
“You might not care now, but you will, when things get too complicated,” Hermione told him dryly.
“What the hell do you mean?” he asked exasperatedly.
“You won’t marry a mudblood,” those words tumbled out her mouth before she could stop herself. Draco’s eyes widened, then he gave a laugh.
“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” he asked with a smirk.
Hermione gave him a reproving glare, and he sobered up. “Kissing would lead to sexual arousal. Sexual arousal might lead us to my bed. Your seduction may cause my pregnancy. Were I to get pregnant, I wouldn’t be very happy having a child without a father,” she told him in a voice that made him think she was talking about their lessons back at school.
Then he laughed again at her wit. “Typical Granger, always thinking of the consequences first before taking action. No wonder the Death Eaters really wanted you dead,” he said.
Hermione’s dark scowl was her reply to him. Draco leaned over and kissed the frown away from her forehead. She actually let out a sigh, as though she liked what he just did.
“If I would get you pregnant, Hermione, I would stand by my responsibility,” he said seriously, and Hermione saw the sincerity in his eyes. He just might be telling the truth.
But that didn’t mean she would let him have his way.
“Your mother wouldn’t want you marrying a mudblood,” she told him pointedly. He scoffed as he said, “Actually, I think my mother would like you very much for an in-law. She was pretty sad when you left her seven years ago to work in Romania,”
“That doesn’t mean she would want me as her in-law,” Hermione said crossly. “And why are we talking about marriage anyway? I don’t even want to marry you,” she huffed.
“You started it,” Draco reminded her. “Kissing won’t lead us to marriage, you know,” he added with a roguish grin.
“Didn’t you listen to what I’ve said a while ago?” Hermione asked in frustration.
“Not unless you think I kiss very well that we would want to do more,” Draco said triumphantly, and Hermione colored.
“You’re an arrogant ass, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione seethed.
“I know I am,” he said cheerfully. “And you like it,”
“Goodnight,” she said briskly, pushing him away, and turning towards the door.
“What, no goodnight kiss?” Draco called out.
Hermione wished she hadn’t turned around to face him. He looked so boyishly handsome under the moonlight that it took every fiber of her being to stop herself from jumping on him.
She also wished she hadn’t lost herself once more in those limpid gray depths.
“It depends,” Hermione found herself saying, and a smile quirked his lips. “On what?” he asked.
“If you would promise not to enjoy too much,” she responded.
His smile grew bigger. “I think I should be the one to warn you that, Hermione,” he said in a low voice that made Hermione quiver with anticipation.
“Then I’ll pass this time,” she said after a few moments of tensed silence. “We wouldn’t want to end up, married, would we?”
“So we’re back to that, aren’t we?” Draco said lazily, cocking a brow at her.
“Yes, this conversation is pretty tiring, and it really is late. I’ll see you at the ball, Draco,” she said, turning away and walking towards her house, not daring to look back again.
She just might end up married if she did.
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“You’re smiling,” Narcissa commented as she watched her son lounge lazily by the balcony facing the garden with a contented smile on his lips.
Draco turned to his mother and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Good morning, mum,” he said lightly, then turning to gaze out at the garden once more.
“May I know why my son seems exceptionally happy today?” Narcissa queried, and her son let out a relaxed sigh. He only grinned in response, and Narcissa cocked a pale blonde brow at him.
“Is this concerning a woman?” she asked. Judging from her son’s widened smile, she had guessed right. “You and Pansy did not get back together, did you?” she asked suspiciously. Draco shook his head and just kept on smiling.
“So you’ve found a new one then,” Narcissa concluded. “I just hope she’s worthy of your attention, Draco,”
“I think you’ll find her perfectly fitting, mum,” Draco said confidently.
“And who might this young lady be?” Narcissa asked. “You’ll meet her at the ball on Friday,” Draco promised, elaborating no further, and his mother decided not to prod any longer.
“Speaking of the ball, have you gotten your costume?” Narcissa asked.
“Of course I did, I’m just adding some finishing touches to it,” Draco answered proudly, and Narcissa beamed at him. “So you managed to endure going to all those muggle shops?” she asked.
“It wasn’t too difficult at all,” Draco said. “In fact, I found it rather… enjoying,” he added, recalling Hermione.
“So you no longer care about blood status?” Narcissa asked softly. “I don’t,” Draco responded sincerely. “Were father alive, he would have been spitting mad, but I wouldn’t give a damn,”
“Yes, he would be quite furious how we have suddenly become blood traitors,” Narcissa agreed. “And I wouldn’t be alive today if a mudblood did not exist,” she said wistfully.
“Mum?” Draco called quietly. “Do I still need to live up the family tradition? You know, marrying a pureblood?”
Narcissa turned her blue eyes on her son. “I would accept whatever would make you happy, dear,” she said, and Draco gave her a tight hug.
“Thanks, mum.”
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“You look beautiful, Herms,”
Ginny Weasley breathed that statement in awe as she surveyed her best friend standing nervously before her.
“Promise?” Hermione asked in a frantic voice. Ginny nodded solemnly. “Go look into the mirror if you want further proof,” she advised, and Hermione walked over to her vanity mirror to check if Ginny wasn’t lying.
As she looked into the mirror, she saw herself wearing a white satin floor-length Grecian-styled gown with floaty material designs. Her hair was piled up in a loose bun, a few tendrils of curly brown hair framing her small face. On her back were transparent wings made of tenshi-bird feathers and atop her head was a yellow circle she charmed to glow brightly.
“Wow,” Ron had just entered the room, and he was gawking at Hermione as though he couldn’t believe what he just saw. Luna followed behind, and a huge smile split on her face when she saw her friend.
“You look terrific, Hermione,” she said, and Hermione gave a feeble thanks.
“You better go, the party would be starting soon,” Ginny suggested, and Hermione picked up her purse and gave them a wave before apparating outside the Malfoy Mansion.
The place was already packed with guests, and Hermione brought out her white mask which covered half her face and wore it on. She could feel people staring at her, fascinated as she ventured towards the ballroom, hearing their intrigued whispers about her identity.
“May I ask you for a dance?” said a smooth voice behind her. Hermione turned around and saw a tall guy with light-brown hair wearing a blue mask extending a gloved hand to her. She noticed he was wearing a prince charming costume.
“Uh, perhaps later,” she said slowly. “I’m looking for someone,”
“Wait a minute, your voice sounds familiar…” the man said, giving her a curious look. “It couldn’t be… Hermione Granger?” he said in disbelief.
“Yes,” Hermione said crisply. “And you are---?”
“Cormac. Cormac McLaggen,” he answered, taking a step towards her. Hermione felt a twinge of nervousness at the way he looked at her.
Just then, someone gave her a rather heavy tap on the shoulder. She spun around and saw a woman standing stiffly in front of her, wearing a deep red gown with a plunging neckline and a red horned mask. She had long straight blonde hair that looked vaguely familiar to Hermione.
“What’s a mudblood like you doing here?” she asked icily, and Hermione quickly recognized her. “Oh, hi, Pansy,” she said sweetly, and the blonde’s eyes narrowed.
“I was invited,” Hermione continued in the same sickeningly sweet voice. “What about you? How did you manage to snag an invitation? Stole it from someone, I suppose?”
Pansy’s eyes flashed. “For your information, this is a party hosted by my fiancé, you little bitch,” she hissed, and Hermione gave a laugh. “Fiancé? Are you talking about Draco Malfoy?” she asked.
Pansy was about to say something when a man wearing a costume which greatly resembled Peter Pan’s grabbed her arm. “Parkinson, leave now before Draco sees you and throws you out himself,” he said, and she spat out a string of curses as the man steered her away.
Hermione looked around and sighed in relief when she saw that Cormac had gone. Darn, she wanted to see Draco!
She walked further into the room, passing by familiar looking people whom she could only guess who because of their masks. She was asked again to dance by a lot of guys, but Hermione shyly refused them.
Just as she was about to head to the refreshment table, a woman with long, silky white-blonde hair walked towards her, wearing a gorgeous pale blue gown and a matching glittered mask.
“Hermione!” she said, and Hermione immediately recognized her as Narcissa. She rushed over to her friend and gave her a hug.
“How are you, my dear?” Narcissa asked when they pulled away. “Seven years have passed and I must say you’ve grown into a beautiful woman,”
Hermione smiled at the woman’s praise. “Just for tonight, Narcissa. I don’t usually look this grand in my regular days,” she said, and the older woman laughed.
“But you look totally stunning tonight, dear. I reckon you’ve been asked to dance a lot of times already?”
Hermione gave her a sheepish smile. “Just nine,” she said.
Narcissa was gazing across the room now. “Draco’s outside at the balcony, taking a breather,” she said nonchalantly. “The girls were all over him since he came out wearing that Zorro costume,”
Hermione felt a stab of jealousy at the mention of girls hanging all over Draco.
“I heard you assisted him in purchasing his costume,” Narcissa continued, looking at Hermione amusedly. “He wasn’t the same ever since,”
“What do you mean ‘not the same’?” Hermione queried, bewildered.
“There are more guests arriving, I must attend to them. Please excuse me, I’ll chat with you later,” Narcissa said in a voice that slightly reminded Hermione of Luna, giving her a sly smile before disappearing into the sea of dancing people.
Hermione then turned to walk towards the balcony, as she was truly dying to see him in his costume.
As she stepped outside, a cool breeze of the evening air welcomed her, tousling the stray locks around her face. Her gown swished with the air, brushing smoothly against her slippered feet.
She saw him standing there by the railing, his back to her. His white-blonde hair shone under the soft light of the moon, his black cape waving with each blow of the wind.
Then, as though sensing her presence, he turned about, a smile crossing his lips. Hermione felt her heart ram against her ribcage at the sight of him. He wore a black mask which really accentuated the silver of his eyes, a white long-sleeved saffron shirt, a black satin waistband, a pair of snug black pants and shiny boots. A sword was slung casually on his hip, and the smile he wore made his costume all the more perfect.
“Hello,” he said, walking towards her with the same disarming smile still on his lips. Hermione stayed immobile, staring at his handsomeness in open fascination.
He stopped when he was just about an inch or so from her. Hermione wished he would touch her, but he didn’t. He just grinned mischievously down at her, his gray eyes twinkling.
“I-I-” Hermione was at a loss of what to say to him, as her mind went totally blank. Draco looked at her questioningly, and she mumbled, “I think we should go inside,”
Draco leaned closer to her, so close that Hermione could smell his cologne-a scent so intoxicating she wanted to pull him to her fully so she can bury her face in his shoulder.
“Pardon? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he said, his warm breath fanning her face, and she bit her lip to stop herself from screaming for him to get away because her heart was racing so badly she felt breathless.
She swallowed before she spoke again. “I think we should- I think we should go inside,”
Comprehension dawned in his eyes, and he offered her his arm. “Shall we, then?” he asked, and Hermione reluctantly curled her arm around his as he led her back inside the ballroom.
“Since I have so gallantly escorted you inside, shall I have this dance?” Draco asked when they reached the middle of the dance floor. Hermione nodded mutely, and felt her whole body heat up when he gently placed his warm hands on her hips and he leaned over to whisper to her, “You have to put your arms around me,”
She did as she was told, and he graciously led her in the dancing, as she had suddenly become as stiff as board.
“Loosen up, Hermione,” Draco told her as they swayed to the music. “I’m not going to eat you, although you look quite delectable tonight,”
His comment made her all the more stiff. Her face was red too.
“Stop that,” she whispered in an aggravated tone. “I won’t be seduced by you tonight, Draco, by God I swear it,” she said, and he laughed.
“So my tactic’s working by the sound of your tone,” he said cheerfully. “Should I kiss you now?”
“NO!” Hermione seemed to have said too loudly that the people around them stared. Draco was still chuckling at her.
“Alright then, since I am a gentleman, I shall do it somewhere more private-and more convenient, because for all we know, we just might end up married,” he kidded, and Hermione shot him a venomous look.
“Ah, forgive my humor, Hermione, I just missed you because I had not seen you since you last rejected me for a kiss,”
Hermione flushed. “I did not reject you,” she said. “I was simply preventing something uncontrollable to happen,”
Draco was looking at her seriously now. “Why are you so afraid anyway?” he asked.
“You have been my enemy for the past years, if you must remember, and I’m not even sure if the way you’re treating me now is for real,” Hermione told him flatly.
“Can’t you tell?” Draco asked softly as he pulled her closer to him. Hermione’s heart was back to beating at an amazingly fast rate again. She did not pull away though. He felt so damn good to resist.
Slowly, she encircled her arms around his neck, and he tilted his face and leaned until his lips were just a breath away from her own. Hermione’s heart was in danger of leaping from her chest now, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. She had been dreaming of this moment since she last saw him.
But Draco Malfoy was surely up to some game. Instead of kissing her on the lips, he went for her chin instead. Then he stepped away, giving her a bow.
“May I dance with you, fair sir?” a young girl with bouncy red hair asked Draco, a saucy smile on her rouged lips. Hermione glared at the girl, while Draco grinned as he gently declined the offer.
Then, before Hermione could react, he dragged her back towards the empty balcony and hastily removed his mask. He backed Hermione into the cool wall and he slowly took her own mask off, his fingertips brushing sensually against her smooth skin.
When he was done with the task, he brushed his thumb across her trembling lips.
“Where shall I kiss you first?” he mused out loud. Hermione stared at him, her brown eyes mirroring her nervousness and anticipation. “Here?” he brushed his knuckles lightly against her cheeks, and she shuddered with delight. “Or here?” he gently touched her neck, his warm hand sliding down towards the spot below her collarbone.
Hermione felt ready to collapse. How could she have entangled herself in this situation?
Without another thought except having him kiss her now, she dragged his head down to hers and kissed him with all the whirlwind of emotions she had been feeling since the night began.
He seemed pretty surprised to respond at first, then, in a quicksilver moment, his body was draped over her as he kissed her back with the same urgency, his warm mouth brushing over hers in a manner that made her whole body pulse with need.
“Oh!”
A woman’s startled gasp made the couple break apart, Hermione red and looking very embarrassed and Draco looking annoyed that someone had dared to interrupt them.
“Oh, Blaise, hi,” Draco said dryly when he spotted his friend standing beside a petite woman with a heavily coiled brown hair. “What a nice time for you to show up,”
Blaise Zabini was looking at Hermione with the usual look she received back at school from the pureblooded Slytherins. She felt ashamed when she felt tears building up her eyes.
She should not have let that stupid kiss happen. How was she so sure that Draco was not secretly giving her that very same disgusted look?
“And I thought you had class, Draco,” Blaise said, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’re better off alone than trysting around with a mudblood like there’s no other girl left,”
Blaise’s words sent a knifing sensation into Hermione’s heart, and two tears leaked out from her eyes. Draco saw this and he gently wiped the wetness away with his thumb.
“Don’t listen to him,” he whispered, before turning to walk towards Blaise, who was still standing there with his woman.
“I don’t care about blood status anymore, you hear me?” Draco said in a dangerously soft voice, and Blaise cocked a brow at him.
“You might be pretty smitten with her right now, but I’m sure you’ll be regretting in the future that you dared to touch her filthiness,” Blaise said cruelly, and Draco’s hand fisted into a tight ball.
“If you haven’t got anything better to say, I’d suggest you leave this party now before I bring out my wand,” Draco said, and Blaise gave Hermione one last malicious look before disappearing back inside with the girl.
When they were alone again, Draco turned and saw her slumped against the wall, her face obscured by the locks of hair that had fallen from her coiffure.
“Hermione…” slowly he walked towards her, and she gave a low sob.
“Don’t come near me,” she said weakly, but he did not pay heed to her feeble plea. He kneeled in front of her and brushed the strands of hair from her tear-streaked face.
“Hermione…”
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, more tears falling down her face. “I’m a mudblood, and you might dirty your regal hands,” she bit off, pushing his hand away.
Draco eyed her in disbelief. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” he asked in a hard voice. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t give a bloody damn anymore of blood status?”
“You can stop being grateful to me for saving your mother because I do not need your gratitude, Malfoy,” she said, her voice rising as well.
She could have sworn she saw Draco roll his eyes as though they were speaking of petty things.
“You’re really daft, Hermione Granger,” he said exasperatedly. “Listen to me. I am not doing this to you as a show of gratitude for your heroic deed seven years ago. I am doing this because I like you as you are. Damn, I can’t believe I just admitted that!”
His last comment made her smile. “You really like me?” she asked shyly, and he gave a solemn nod. “Want me to prove how much I do?” he asked challengingly, his hands moving to the sides of her face.
“I’d love that,” she whispered as she met his lips in a sweet kiss that told her he meant what he just said.
From the doorway, Narcissa thanked Blaise for playing along with her plans, where he just waved her off, saying, “He looked like he wanted to punch me, that ass. He doesn’t know Isabelle here is also muggle-born,” and kissing the dark-haired girl lovingly on the cheek.
Narcissa smiled at the couple, then turned her gaze back to her son, who was wrapped in a passionate embrace with the girl she had once thought unworthy of their race, but had made had made a very big difference in her life.
She guaranteed a marriage in the next month.
-end-
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A/n: Whew! Finished it at last! Hope it wasn’t overly long… (okay, so it was long, but I did that to compensate for my shortcomings) Anyway, and thank you for reading of you’ve come this far! Dramione rocks. =)
Three things you want your fic to include:To take place during
Halloween and for it to be a masquerade. 2. Make Draco dress up as
Zorro (dress Hermione into any costume.) 3. Have some snogging and
all that good stuff >P
Three things you do not want your fic to include:Going to fast,
make some kind of -adventures- for them during the preperateion. 2.
Slutty characters.
Anything specific that you do not want to write: Don't make it too
boring, I want some adventure! Steal other plots, make your own! No
fully light fiction, I want some dark man >P
Thank-you for Celebrating the Season with Draco and Hermione!