Fic: Thank God I'm Not A Bridesmaid, Part II, Hermione/Draco
Title: Thank God I'm Not A Bridesmaid, Part II
Rating: R (for language only, this part)
Pairing: Hermione/Draco
Categories: Humour, AU, PWP
Summary: The only thing that would redeem this wedding would be a lot of chocolate, alcohol, and an elephant sized tranquilizer potion.
Disclaimer: All property of J.K. Rowling. The plot is mine, however.
Notes: Because I am lazy and can't finish the rest of this, here's something to tide you over. Crap. Last part will be up soon. Hopefully. *facepalm*
Yay for more unresolved sexual tension.
Part I (In case you missed it)
Part II
Her eyes followed him as he walked away, her mouth gaping. The sheer nerve he had, talking to her like that!
But she couldn’t exactly deny the little shiver she got when he had taken in her appearance.
Christ, he practically undressed her with his eyes.
And she liked it.
More than she should’ve.
Oh dear.
She slapped her palm to her forehead and grimaced. She was considering asking Fred for a Puking Pastille to find an excuse home, but her plan was cut off halfway across the room by none other than the groom himself.
“Er, youwannadance?” Ron asked sheepishly, his hand outstretched a little.
Say no say no say no and run! Her brain was thinking frantically.
Ron looked at her pitifully, and the part of her that was a masochist made her take his hand and lead him into a chaste, polite dance. They moved around stiffly before she cleared her throat.
“Well, I just wanted-“
“Hermione, I’m still in lo-“
They laughed awkwardly. “You first,” he said.
“Well, I just wanted to congratulate you. It seems as though you’ve found what you’re looking for, and I hope you’re very happy with Pansy. No hard feelings?” She smiled.
She missed the cloud of pain pass over his face as he forced a smile back. “Er, thanks. Yeah. No hard feelings.”
She extracted her hands from his as the song ended and toddled off as quickly as she could in the heels to the loo.
Because every girl knows that life’s biggest solutions can always be solved while doodling on the cubicle wall and inhaling flowery air freshener.
***
She made it to the loo and eyed herself in the mirror. She was still holding up pretty nicely (or so she hoped.) Pacing back and forth, she started talking to herself.
“You’re doing good. Really good. Keep breathing.”
As calm as she seemed, it had hurt her more than she let on to dance with Ron and see him dance with Pansy. One time, long ago, she had imagined her wedding-their wedding. Well, that dream had sunk. But she hadn’t cried, or done anything embarrassing, and if she could hold on for another hour or so, she could still make it out of here with her pride intact. She slumped down on the frilly velvet lounge and kicked off the shoes. As nice as they were, she was pretty sure she couldn’t feel her toes. She started rubbing them half-heartedly.
“Let me.”
She looked up in surprise as Malfoy of all people sat down next to her.
“You’re aware you’re in the ladies, right?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm.” He sat down and picked up her foot, swivelling her slightly. He pressed his thumbs to the ball of her foot and started to rub.”
“Right,” she said. “Just checking. Ah,” she sighed, as he applied even pressure to pulse points, allowing the blood flow back. She leaned her head back against the wall, and eyed him curiously.
“So what are you doing?” she asked, as she took in his appearance. His jacket was gone, and the first couple buttons of his pristine shirt was open. She could see the groove at the base of his throat and the edge of his collarbone. His face was relaxed, but still guarded.
“Isn’t that obvious?” he smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“You know what I mean,” she said, as he worked on her other abandoned foot. She wiggled her toes.
“I’m rubbing your feet because it’s quiet in here, I can escape my mother’s incessant nagging, I will not have to dance with Pansy again, and because I want to. Happy?”
“Very much so,” she replied. ‘My feet thank you. Although I’m pretty sure they aren’t the only body parts in need of attention.”
He grinned at her wolfishly, flashing white teeth. “Is that so?”
She blushed at the implications of her words. “I walked right into that, didn’t I,” she said, feeling silly.
“Yeah. It’s alright, though. Turn around.” He scraped her hair gently out of the way and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them with slow, deliberate movements.
“You’re being uncharacteristically nice,” she said, as a wave of exhaustion passed over her. She leaned back unconsciously.
“If it makes you feel less suspicious, I’m rather enjoying the view your dress is offering.” He made a production of leering at her breasts.
“I would smack you, but it would be a waste of a massage.” She grinned back. Their eyes met, and her grin slid away as she saw his eyes smouldering. She twisted her torso around to meet him as his lips descended onto hers.
Yes, yes, go ahead and yell at the cliffhanger. I'm tired. *whines pitifully*
Reviews are love. Thanks.