“Where in the world have you been, darling?” Natalia asked. Draco flinched. The woman may have been beautiful, but she was just as (if not more) venomous as he was. It was part of the reason they’d gotten together in the first place; he had appreciated the way she handled things.

“I was out on business, dear,” he replied acidly. She frowned at him as he threw his Invisibility Cloak over a chair.

“Business that required you not to be seen?”

“It’s none of your business what I was doing, Natalia,” he snapped, turning his back to her. He began to unbutton his shirt, stopping when he realized that his fingers were trembling. He growled in frustration and abandoned the task, opting instead to pull the gilded cord that hung beside the hearth. A small house elf appeared.

“Bring me firewhiskey, now,” he barked out. The elf disappeared, and moments later, it reappeared with a crystal decanter full of the liquid. Draco ignored the shot glass that rested on the tray and grabbed the decanter, lifting it to his lips.

“You look tense,” she commented icily. “What happened?”

“Go to bed.” He took a long pull from the bottle, enjoying the way the liquid burned as it went down his throat.

“Fine,” she grumbled, leaving the parlor. Draco flopped down gracelessly on the chaise and squeezed his eyes shut. If he didn’t think Natalia would follow him, he’d head back to the Mudblood’s flat and ravish her again. It was the only thing that allowed him any sort of release these days – sex with her was positively therapeutic.

Perhaps he’d pay her another visit tomorrow night. If Potter wasn’t there, that was. His anger climbed to new heights as he pictured her in bed with the golden boy, doing the same things that she did with him.

He had to get Potter out of the way, somehow. The man had always been a thorn in Draco’s side - now more than ever, if that was possible. He had been safely away from the boy wonder since they’d left school three years ago, but now he was in close proximity again, and it felt dangerous.

Then again, danger was something that Draco thrived on.

“So,” Harry began, clearing his throat. Hermione hugged her chest, chilled to the bone despite the hot sun that was beating down on them. He’d sent her an owl earlier that morning, asking her to meet him for a walk.

Saturdays were the only time that Hermione felt as though she truly got any time to herself, and Harry was encroaching on that time. Normally she was happy to see him, but given the previous night’s circumstances, his company was making her feel guarded and restless.

“So,” she echoed.

“Look, Hermione.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She took a steadying breath and turned to face him. “Okay.”

“I’ve been thinking about this, and I have to know.” He looked as though he was struggling for words, which put her even more on edge. Harry must really be upset with her to be acting this way.

“Yes?”

“Remember that first year out of school, when you told me that you- well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “When Ron told me that you had feelings for me?”

Her eyes widened slightly. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “Yes, I remember. I also remember wanting to kill him when I found out.” He gave her a tiny smile, which she found encouraging.

“I was just wondering – do you still feel that way?” He said the words so quickly that Hermione wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Pardon?”

“Do you still have feelings for me that go beyond friendship?”

She eyed him cautiously, unsure of how to respond. “Why, Harry? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he denied, shaking his head. “I’d just like to know.”

“I – “ she sighed. What was the point in lying to him? “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” he asked, confused. “So just sometimes you think you have feelings for me? I don’t understand. And why didn’t you tell me?”

She gaped at him. “You made it very clear to me that you did not return my feelings, remember? Why would I ever bring it up again to you when I know how you feel about it?”

“Why don’t we sit down?” he suggested, eyeing a bench behind them. She sighed and let him steer her towards it. After they were seated, he turned to her. “I got to thinking about us last night.”

“Us?” she asked, her stomach doing a somersault. “You mean our friendship, right?” Was he going to say that he didn’t want to be her friend now that he knew about what had happened?

“Well, sort of. I’m not sure how to tell you this,” he began, shaking his head. She closed her eyes.

“It’s all right, Harry. I think I know what you’re trying to say.” He looked startled.

“You do?”

“Yes, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me after last night. Trust me, I understand that-“

“No,” he interrupted, laughing softly. “You don’t understand. That’s not what I was trying to say.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. Look, what I’ve been trying to say is that-“

“Hey, guys!” Hermione looked up, smiling as Ron and Anna made their way over to them. Harry bit back a groan of frustration and forced a smile.

“Hey Ron, Anna. What brings the two of you around here today?”

“We just decided to go on a walk,” Anna replied, smiling warmly at Hermione. “And then we were going to head over to Hogsmeade to window shop. Want to come with us?”

“That sounds lovely,” Hermione said, nodding. “And I think it’s just what we need, right, Harry?” she asked, turning her eyes to him. He gave her a strange look that made her stomach flip again, and then nodded.

“Yes, it sounds great – as long as you remember that you promised me dinner alone,” he said pointedly. Her jaw dropped open – she’d promised him no such thing! What was he playing at?

It took her a second to recover. “Oh – oh, right. I’d almost forgotten.”

“Well, shall we continue our walk, or shall we go ahead and go to Hogsmeade?” Anna asked, turning to Ron. He slipped an arm around her waist.

“We can go ahead and go,” he said, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. Harry and Hermione watched, amazed. “I’ve got a craving for some chocolate frogs right now, anyway.”

Hermione and Harry snorted at the same time. “When are you not hungry?”

Ron shot a glare at Harry as he rose to his feet. He extended a hand to help Hermione up, and when she took it, he squeezed. Surprised eyes flew up to meet his.

“Hermione,” Anna began, turning to look at her. “Would you help me pick out some new robes? I’m not very good at choosing colors for myself, and I’d appreciate the help.” Hermione’s mind was reeling. Harry was still holding her hand, threading his fingers through hers. While it was not uncommon for them to hold hands, it was uncommon for them to have their fingers enmeshed like this.

Harry had also never stroked her thumb with his the way he was doing at present.

It made things a bit muddled for her. “I’d love to help,” she returned finally. “I’ve been needing to get a new robe myself.”

“Whatever will you boys do without us around?” Anna teased. Ron rolled his eyes as he smiled.

“Look at Quidditch Supplies, naturally.”

The rest of the trip to Hogsmeade was filled with playful banter between Ron and Harry, and it made Hermione more at ease. By the time they reached Gladrags, Anna was in stitches from the teasing. Harry was reluctant to let go of Hermione’s hand, and when Ron started to escort him away, he shot a backwards glance at her.

Once the women had disappeared inside the shop, Ron turned to his friend. “Great Merlin, Harry! Have you and Hermione got something to tell me?”

“Not yet,” Harry admitted, his cheeks coloring pink as he smiled. “But hopefully after dinner…”

“If you haven’t got something to tell me, then why were you holding hands like that? I’ve never seen you like this before. You walked so close to her that you nearly tripped her a few times.”

Harry chuckled as they pushed the door to Honeyduke’s open. “She let me hold her hand, which is a good sign, I think. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I might have good news to tell you now.” Surprise registered on Ron’s face.

“Oh! I’m sorry, mate. Anna saw you and wanted-“

Harry waved him off with a smile. “It’s all right. She’s going to have dinner with me, and then I’ll tell her.”

“Let’s just hope that the girls don’t spend too much money on their new robes,” Ron said. “I don’t think I could handle carrying all of their parcels.”

“It’d be a wonder if Hermione spends anything at all on herself in there,” Harry remarked, his smile plastered to his face.

“Why don’t you talk to Anna afterwards and see what Hermione fancied? Then you could go back in there and get her a robe to wear to dinner tonight.”

“I didn’t make it clear to her how intimate I wanted it to be,” Harry said, frowning. “Maybe you’re right.”

The men continued talking, their conversation shifting to the products that were on the shelves – so they didn’t notice it when a tall blonde man shoved past them angrily and out into the afternoon air.

Hermione picked up the robe she’d looked at before, admiring its soft texture and feminine color. Anna’s face brightened when she saw it.

“That would look great on you, Hermione! Try it on!”

“Wherever would I wear it?” Hermione laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not cut properly to wear to work.”

“Wear it when you go out with Harry,” Anna said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Hermione blushed.

“But – it might give him ideas,” she said. “And I don’t think he quite thinks of me that way, Anna.”

“Right,” Anna snorted. “Were you paying attention on the way over here? The man could hardly stop looking at you, and you saw how he was holding your hand and walking so close to you! He’s obviously got it bad.”

“What’s he got?”

“He’s attracted to you.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” Hermione said, holding the robe up to herself. “Harry and I are best friends, and that’s about as far as it goes.”

“But,” Anna began, looking confused. “But the way you were looking at him just before-“

“I know,” she sighed. “I’ve had feelings for him for a long time, but he told me two years ago that he didn’t return those feelings.”

“You’re having dinner alone with him tonight, right?”

“It would seem so,” Hermione said, her lips twisting into a wry smile.

“Well, he’ll probably tell you how he feels tonight, then. Better look your best.”

“What?” she looked down at the robe. “Oh, no! I can’t buy this – I’d only be wearing it once, and I can’t afford it, anyway! I could buy five work robes for what this one costs.”

“You don’t splurge very often, do you?” Anna laughed. “Come on! It’s for Harry!”

Hermione chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. Surely it wouldn’t hurt, just this once, to spend money imprudently? She gave Anna a radiant smile before running into the dressing room to try it on.

“Oh,” Anna breathed. Hermione turned around in a circle, letting the other woman see how the robe fit. “It’s perfect! It looks lovely on you!”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, turning back to the mirror. The front of the robe clung tightly to her curves as she moved. The neckline was cut low enough that it showed a fair bit of cleavage. Her cheeks burned from the immodesty of it, but at the same time the billowing material made her feel like a princess in a fairy tale.

“I’m going to go pay for mine,” Anna said, holding up the two robes she’d chosen. “Do you need help getting it unzipped in the back?”

“No, I’ll be fine, thanks,” Hermione said, waving her off. She admired herself in the mirror for another moment, piling her hair on top of her head to see how it would look. When she was finished, she reached around to her back to try and unzip the garment.

Instead of touching the zipper, however, her hands met warm flesh.

“Don’t scream, unless you want to be seen with me in so intimate a position,” he whispered from behind her. Her heart began to pound wildly as he slid the zipper down as slowly as he could.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered back, beginning to tremble. His hands snaked beneath the fabric of the gown, sliding around to cup her breasts. She bit down hard on her bottom lip.

“You missed me,” he said simply. His hands began kneading the soft flesh they held, and she gasped.

“Please go – I’m here with someone, and she-“

“She’s at the counter, with a very incompetent saleswitch,” he whispered back, his breath hot in her ear. She shivered.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She was so surprised when he pulled her into the dressing room and shut the door that she didn’t even think to resist.

He pushed the robe off of her shoulders, taking in the sight of her naked, trembling body as he did. She shook her head, but no words escaped her lips. He pulled her close to him after he’d unzipped his pants, and pulled one of her legs up around his waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as he slid into her, stretching her to accommodate him.

She’d never had sex in a public place before, and despite the fear of getting caught, she found it strangely exciting. Sweat broke out on his forehead – she supposed it was from the effort he was putting towards being silent, rather than their physical activity, and she felt she rather understood.

She watched, fascinated, as his face morphed from the picture of concentration to a mask of bliss. Once he’d begun to empty himself inside of her, she could no longer keep her eyes open. Her own orgasm was shaking her body, causing her to grip his arms for stability. When it was all over and he’d let her leg drop, she stared at him.

She didn’t know what to think of this man. He hated her; he’d made that clear enough. She hated him, too. Their joining last night had been nothing short of brutal, and had convinced her that she never wanted to see him again – especially after the exchange between Harry and herself that morning.

But here he was, contradicting all she knew of him; he had been quiet and gentle while he’d taken her. She watched him zip his pants back up and turn to exit the dressing room. Before he could, though, he stopped and reached into his pocket. He extracted something and pressed it into her hands without looking at her, and then left.

When she uncurled the fingers of her hands to look at what he’d given her, she wanted to cry.

She was holding a pair of emerald green silk knickers.

The exact replica of the ones he’d destroyed the night before, only a different color.

Why did he keep doing this to her?