RP: Possession is 9/10s of the law.

[pb_draco]

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger (with Crookshanks, Osiris, Lucifer, Fleck, and Cookoo all kibbitzing.)
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete

Comments

[pb_hermione]

Hermione had her lips pressed tightly together to prevent her giggles from escaping. Malfoy might not be able to see well without his glasses, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing that she'd been able to determine. Well, nothing aside from the fact that it could be somewhat selective when it suited him. He was trying so hard to get her attention without outright asking for it that Hermione was making a game of waiting him out.

Finally, he gave up the sighing, groaning and moaning, to move onto the second stage which apparently consisted of whinging and bitching. "You know, doing an impersonation of Professor Trelawney foretelling your imminent demise isn't the way to capture my attention. I'm sure if I was truly needed my dragon pendant would have alerted me to you being in mortal peril," she called over her shoulder. "And before you try to convince me that you're likely to die of boredom, might I remind you that there are things you could be helping with in here."

[pb_draco]

"I'm not dying of boredom," he said, blowing a smoke ring at the fireplace. "I am dying of overwork. Malfoys are not designed for manual labor. We wilt like, like, um." He groped for a word other than delicate and failed to find it, and he wasn't going to get up for his dictionary. "Like delicate flowers. In too much sun. We burn, and we wilt, and this is why we have servants, you know." He blatantly ignored his own knowledge of his mother's gardening work. She was only a Malfoy by marriage

[pb_hermione]

"You're not currently working, so why are you whinging? I told you to take a break if you were tired, oh delicate flower." Honestly, a person would think he never did anything for himself. She knew better than that even if he did have Cookoo for chores.

"I slapped your hand for touching my instruments. They're very delicate and a few are dangerous. I gave you something to do." It wasn't very exciting setting up parchment and ink but it was a job that needed doing. "You don't have to help me, you know. I am quite capable of doing it all myse...OW! Dammit!" Hermione shook out her hand. That had bloody well hurt. She'd turned her head when he said she'd bruised him just in case he wasn't joking. Hermione lost her concentration on the instrument she was setting up and it burned her fingers. Tears sprung up in her eyes. "Ow," she whinged this time.

[pb_draco]

His own complaining was forgotten almost instantly when she cried out and swore, and Draco nearly spilled his coffee in his rush to get across the room to her. He set the cup down and took her arm, laying her hand out flat across his. "What happened? Are you all right? Dammit, Granger, I told you to be careful. Moving can get you hurt, and I'm not taking you to Mungos the first night you're actually living here. Do you have any idea how bad that would look? Get you into my clutches and immediately damage you? Potter'd be on my doorstep with the entire Auror squad."

Despite his scolding, he was examining her hand with care, cautious not to touch the burn. It wasn't severe, didn't look like anything that would require him to haul her to hospital, but he looked her over just to make sure. Ap Hywel's voice ran through his head as he went down a mental checklist, but it wasn't necessary. When the patient was his own girlfriend, he was six or seven times as vigilant about her care.

[pb_hermione]

"I'm not planning on hiding our affection. My parents were very demonstrative, both with each other and with me, but kept the sex out of sight." Hermione thought her parents had been an excellent model of how to behave. They were romantic without being overt except in private. "I think it's important that the children know their parents are in love with each other. I'm just not sure how I'd feel about photographic evidence."

"Need them?" Hermione looked at him, a little confused. "You mean like you have a secret pair you bring out to wank over?" She wasn't sure she wanted him coming on her boots, but she supposed it would be all right if he wanted come all over the sexy ones that were being made as a present for him. They were for him, after all.

[pb_draco]

"No photographic evidence, then. I promise. And if we get that Pensieve you wanted, we'll make sure they never get their hands on it."

Draco stifled a quiet groan and dropped her hand to cover his face as he felt that pink blush moving in from hairline to collar. "Not ... exactly. Sometimes. Not often. Pretty rare, actually. It's more...." He made a soft noise, not believing that he was about to say this, but he knew his girlfriend. She'd keep questioning and he'd give up the information eventually anyway. Better to do it voluntarily.

Draco folded his arms over his chest, hugging them to him, and stared at the far wall to avoid her eyes. He spoke fast, hoping to skip over the majority of the humiliation, and tried not to feel his shoulders tightening up. "When I'm really stressed, or I'm really upset, I have to have them. Have to. I can't even--if it's bad enough times, I can't even get going without the boots around. I mean, I don't have to-to-to, I don't have to use them, y'know, don't have to actually, um. Wank on them. They

[pb_hermione]

"I want to learn to make a Pensieve, not buy one. And we are not leaving memories in there except when we're viewing. Take it out, look it over, put it back. No free shows except between us. And as I said, I don't mind sexy pictures as long as I'm not nude." She grinned at him.

Malfoy let go of her hand and hid his face. Hermione could see the tips of his ears and wondered what it was that had him turning Gryffindor red. It was obvious he wasn't thrilled to be explaining but she appreciated that he was trying. She waited patiently while he gathered himself.

"Any boots or just a lady's?" Hermione thought she should understand exactly what it was he needed. "Is it the boots you think about or about the boots being on a woman?" She assumed he didn't wear them himself, at least not if he liked ladies' boots. They'd already discussed cross-dressing when she'd mistaken a joke he made for interest. "Is it only boots or other sorts of leather things, too?" She wanted to be in on any stress relief he might need, but if it was something he

[pb_draco]

She hadn't taken off running or started laughing at him or made some horrified sound of disgust. Draco supposed that was something. It took him a minute to unclench his jaw enough to speak again and he flushed harder when his voice wasn't properly steady and unperturbed, the way he wanted it to be. "Women's boots. Preferably on a woman. I'm not gay, Granger, I don't find anything about men attractive, including their footwear. I'm fine, usually, you know that, I haven't had any problems with you, but then you have great legs and a fantastic arse and you wear a lot of boots anyway, so I don't know. I don't knowHe moved away from her, his hands twisting together as he struggled not to go for his cigarettes. "Not leather, doesn't have to be leather. Suede, satin, whatever. Leather's best, but it doesn't have to be. Type doesn't really.... That's a lie. Tall or short, either's fine, but-but I like, um. There is a type. Loads of buckles or laces. Sort of pointed toe, a good heel." He paced away from her, grimacing. "You have no idea

[pb_hermione]

"There are photographs of my maternal grandparents in here, but not many. I'm not entirely sure they were invited to the wedding. They were disappointed when Mum decided to go into dentistry over something more glamorous. Then she had the gall to fall in love with Daddy, who also studying dentistry, and whose parents weren't their sort of people. There was a lot of shouting and threats. Any of this sound familiar?" Hermione nudged him. "My parents were madly in love and had no intention of giving each other up. I know I've told you some of this already, but I don't think I've ever said just how nasty and horrid my maternal grandparents were to Daddy. They were never even very nice to me, although they did reconcile with Mum to some extent, never enough to put her back in the will, though. Her grandmother was the one that paid for her to finish her schooling and helped my parents buy our house. I never knew Mum's grandmother, she died the summer before I was born." Hermione sighed, "Anyway, the wedding was a small ceremony in Scotland

[pb_draco]

Draco blinked and attempted to look totally confused over what she was saying. It was too difficult and he gave up. It was not only familiar to him, but painfully familiar. First he'd avoided what seemed to be a traditional Malfoy career of politics in favor of a trade, and a poor-and-needy oriented one at that. Even though he planned to focus on a specific practice that wouldn't be available to too much of the impoverished masses, it was still Healing. Next, his relationship. Madly in love with the wrong sort of woman, with a lot of shouting. No threats, though. Just a stinging disappointment and the knowledge that he'd betrayed his entire bloodline. He rubbed the back of Hermione's neck and sighed silently, pushing those thoughts away. "It's a very lovely dress. Doesn't look at all like a meringue puffball. Is that the sort of dress you'd want? Something simple like that

[pb_hermione]

Hermione shook her head. "I like the dress but it isn't what I'd pick for myself. The lace was too scratchy," Hermione explained. "I considered keeping it for sentimental value but settled on Mum's red evening gown instead because I could wear it. You haven't seen that one yet," she explained. "I do want something simple but I don't want anything scratchy," she made a face. Scratchy things were ghastly to wear. She much preferred soft, natural fabrics. "I'll pick the dress and you can pick my boots for underneath as long as they're comfortable."

"I've come to like blond and pointy. You're really a very attractive man, Malfoy. I won't be at all upset to end with four blonds." She turned the page. "This is my first photograph. Most Muggles have their babies in the hospital," she told him. Hermione had a crown of dark fuzz and huge eyes.

[pb_draco]

"I'm with you there. I prefer to avoid scratchy clothes whenever possible. The only scratching I want is from you." He tried not to think about her giving him a few of those scratches on their wedding night, under him with nothing on but a smile and a pair of white boots. Failing at not thinking, he held onto the image for later and shivered.

"Nah, I'm not that attractive. Got a face like a rodent who ran through a glass window and far too skinny besides. You're the cute one in this couple. I'm not ... noteworthy." He smiled at the picture she turned to as he set his coffee down. Careful not to actually touch the picture, he hovered his fingers over it to outline the curve of her chin. "Definitely you. Born with hair, hmm? That explains a lot. Dunno about giving birth in hospital, though. All those germs and sick people running around. I think home's safer."