Hermione waited impatiently as Anna put the finishing touches on her hair. She’d volunteered to help her after Hermione had emerged from the dressing room looking very disoriented; she’d felt sorry for the girl.
It was painfully clear to her how much she wanted to impress Harry, and Anna knew how blind male friends could be. After all, that’s how things had been with her and Ron. She smiled as she wove pale pink flowers into Hermione’s hair, and then sat back to inspect her work.
Hermione really was quite pretty with her hair pulled up like that, she thought. She’d swept it up so that curls cascaded down the back of Hermione’s head, intertwined with the small flowers that she’d just known would match the new robe.
“All finished – you can look now.” Hermione stood and turned to examine herself in the mirror. Her hands flew to her mouth.
“I look – “
“Breathtaking,” Anna supplied, smiling from ear to ear. “He won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” Hermione turned and gave the woman an impulsive hug.
“Thank you so much, Anna!”
A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. Anna opened the door to find a very pink-cheeked Harry smiling back at her.
“Is the lady of the house in?”
“Why indeed she is, good sir,” Anna laughed, stepping aside. Harry was clutching a bouquet of pale pink roses, which Anna took as a fortuitous sign. They matched the flowers in Hermione’s hair.
“Where is she?”
“Hermione! Your date is here!” she called. Harry blushed more but his grin stayed in place.
“Hello, Harry. You look lovely.” Harry turned at Hermione’s compliment, but when his eyes fell on her, he froze.
She was wearing the lowest cut robe he’d ever seen, and that was saying something. Her cleavage was clearly visible, along with more of her neck and shoulders than he’d ever seen before. He was suddenly possessed with the urge to nip at the flesh of her shoulders, and the thought made heat rise into his cheeks.
“Well?” Anna prompted.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Harry breathed, his eyes trained on Hermione. Her lower lip trembled slightly before she forced a smile.
“Thank you.”
“And on that note, it’s time I go and find Ron,” Anna said happily, bouncing out the door. Once they were alone, Harry thrust the flowers forward.
“These are for you.”
“They’re lovely!” she exclaimed, moving forward and pressing them to her nose. “Thank you, Harry. That was very thoughtful.”
He watched as she found a vase, filled it with water, and dropped the roses into it. Her movements were fluid and easy, and he wondered at her. What had happened between their conversation that morning and this moment that had caused her to be so at ease?
She turned back to him and gave him a radiant smile. “Shall we go?”
“I’m not sure I want to now,” he breathed before he could stop himself. She frowned.
“Why not? Am I not dressed appropriately?” She looked down at herself.
“No! You look wonderful – I’m just not sure that I want to share you with anyone else right now.” She looked up and gave him a shy smile.
“Harry,” she scolded gently. “You share me with other people all the time.”
“A mistake I intend to rectify soon. You do look exceptionally lovely tonight,” he mused. “It would be a shame not to let anyone else see you like this.” He extended his arm, and she slipped her hand beneath it.
Harry took her to her favorite Japanese restaurant, ignoring her protests that it was too expensive. When they had slipped their shoes off and were seated at the small table, he smiled at her.
“You really do look beautiful,” he murmured. She blushed and shook her head.
“Stop,” she laughed. “You’re making me feel self-conscious. You see me every day, and I don’t look any different today than I normally do.”
“You’re beautiful every day,” he amended, smiling at the woman who handed them menus. “But I’ve never seen you look like this – not even at the Yule Ball.”
“All right, let’s talk about something else,” she said, waving her hand. She hadn’t stopped smiling since Harry had arrived at her flat, and her cheeks were starting to ache. “How is work going?”
“What next, the weather?” he asked, grinning. She giggled. “We don’t need to make small talk, Hermione. We know each other too well.”
“So what do you want to talk about, then?”
“You seemed to be getting along with Anna pretty well. I didn’t get to talk to her a lot – is she as nice as she seems?”
“She is,” she said, nodding. “She’s very sweet. It’s nice to have another female friend.”
“Oh?” he asked, amused. She colored again.
“Not that it’s not nice having you and Ron,” she offered quickly. “I didn’t mean that you weren’t good enough, I just meant-“
“I know what you meant,” he laughed. “I was just teasing you.”
“Right,” she said, relaxing again. “Harry, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about-“
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, hoping to curb the subject before it put a damper on their mood. “There are some things that are too private to tell other people.” She tilted her head to one side and gave him a curious look.
“Does that mean that you have secrets that I don’t know about?”
“When have I ever had secrets?” he asked, spreading his hands in emphasis. “Since I stepped into the Wizarding world everyone has known everything about me.”
“That’s not true,” she replied sweetly. “Everyone doesn’t know what a kind heart you have, or how your eyes crinkle in the corners when you laugh, or how you chew on your fingernails when you’re nervous.”
His eyes glittered as she spoke. “You’re awfully observant, aren’t you?”
“Well,” she said reasonably, “it’d be rather difficult for me not to notice all of those things when I’ve spent nearly every day for the last ten years around you, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose you’re right. Now you’re making me feel self-conscious.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve noticed all of these things about me, and I don’t think I’m half as knowledgeable when it comes to you and your mannerisms.”
“Men aren’t as good at details as women are.”
“Hey, I take offense to that! I’m in a profession where details are of the utmost importance.” She smiled at him.
“You’re right, of course. I just meant that men don’t tend to notice those things about their female friends. A girlfriend, perhaps, but not friends.”
“Oh? I’m intrigued. Let me think – I’ll bet I can come up with some of your unique qualities.”
“Oh, no,” she laughed. “Please don’t. I don’t need to hear about how I always bite my lip when I’m thinking – I already know that.”
“That’s not all you do, though. You sort of scrunch up your nose, and-“ She held up a hand to stop him.
“Harry!” she chastised.
“But it’s cute,” he said, his smile fading. The look in his eyes made her glad that she was already sitting down. “You do lots of cute little things when you think.”
“Like what?” she asked breathlessly.
“You stick your thumbnail in your mouth – you don’t ever bite it, but you like to run your teeth under it. And if you have one nearby, you suck on a sugar quill.”
“Unconscious rebellion against my parents,” she laughed.
“You said I have a kind heart, but I pale in comparison to you. You’re compassionate, smart, beautiful-“
“Harry-“
“And you’re crazy if you think you’re anything less,” he finished. She was silent for several moments, and he began to fear that he’d upset her. “Are you all right? Have I said something wrong?”
“No, it’s just – if I’m all of those things that you said, then why is it that I can never seem to find anyone to be all of those things with?”
“Because you’re not very good at choosing men who appreciate you – as evidenced by your interest in me.”
“Don’t start with the self-deprecation, Harry James Potter. If I can’t do it, then you’re not allowed to, either.”
“If any of the men you went out with had a whit of intelligence, they’d hang on to you with everything they had. I know I would.”
She looked down at her half-eaten food. “You have to say that because you’re my best friend.”
“I’d like to be more than that, if you’ll give me the chance.”
Her eyes flew up in surprise. “What?”
“I wanted to tell you this morning,” he pressed on. “I was going to, before Ron and Anna showed up. I’ve wanted to tell you for ages now, and just haven’t had enough courage to do it.”
“What-“ she closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. When she opened her eyes, he was still there. Not a dream, then. She swallowed hard. “For how long?”
“Ages,” he repeated. “Since right after I told you I didn’t return your feelings.”
“Why didn’t you-“
“It was too soon after you’d told me how you felt, and I didn’t want you to think that I was playing with you.”
“So what’s changed since then to make you able to tell me now?”
“When you told me about – when we had our talk yesterday, I realized that I was jealous.”
“Jealous?” she asked incredulously.
He nodded. “I know you said you didn’t have a relationship with that other bloke, but it still hurt me. I didn’t like the thought of you with someone who wasn’t – well, someone who wasn’t me.”
“Oh,” she breathed, her pulse racing. “Oh, my.”
“Am I too late?” he wondered aloud, studying her face. “Have you developed feelings for that person, or do I stand a chance?”
“I don’t have feelings for him,” she denied, shaking her head. “But I never even entertained the thought that you might… ever… have those sort of feelings for me.”
“Have I missed my window?”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes focused on the table.
“Haven’t I? You said that you only felt that way sometimes.”
“I didn’t want to admit it to you,” she said honestly. “I was afraid that you’d start acting strangely around me, and that it would hurt our friendship. I never stopped feeling that way.”
“And yet you’ve managed to hide it so well,” he mused thoughtfully. “I never had any indication that you felt that way anymore.”
“I thought that was what you wanted,” she admitted.
“Hermione, look at me.” Slowly she lifted her eyes to meet his. “What I want is you, and I’ll take you any way I can get you – friendship or otherwise.”
“Oh,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“What do you say – want to give me a try?” She gave a soft laugh.
“If you’re sure…”
He leaned across the small table and stopped only when their lips were almost touching. “Kiss on it?” he whispered. His breath was warm and tickled her lips. She nodded slightly, her breath catching in her throat.
He brushed his lips gently against hers in the softest of kisses, eliciting a shiver from her. His mouth lingered on hers for a moment before he pulled away. Her eyes remained closed as he sat back down, and the ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.
“Oh,” she whispered again, opening her eyes wide. She’d never had a kiss like that before; even though it was chaste in nearly every sense of the word, it had ignited a fire in her like no other kiss had. Her cheeks burned with the force of her attraction. Harry noticed and arched an eyebrow at her.
“All right there, love?”
Her stomach did a backflip at the sound of the endearment falling from his lips, and she nodded. “I – I’ve never been kissed like that before,” she admitted.
“Good or bad?”
“Definitely good.” Her blush deepened when he gave a soft laugh.
“Ready to leave? I think I’ve shared you enough now. I don’t want anyone else ogling my girl.”
Would her nervous system ever return to normal? She wondered. His girl. It sounded lovely, and she never wanted him to stop saying it.
“I’m ready, Harry.”
The trek back to her flat was uneventful, though all Hermione could focus on the entire time was the fact that his arm was draped possessively around her waist and his hand was resting on her hip. When they reached the door to her flat, she turned to him.
“Would you like to come up?” she asked nervously.
To her surprise, he shook his head.
“I have to get some sleep,” he said, grinning. “I stayed awake all last night planning our date and practicing what I wanted to say to you.”
She laughed. “You put that much effort into it?”
“It was important,” he said softly. “And I wanted to get it right.”
“I didn’t mean-“
“I know you didn’t.” They were silent for a moment, and she was content to simply hold his hand. “I know you’re probably tired, too, so I’ll go ahead and go – but if it’s all right with you, I’d like to come over and see you first thing tomorrow.”
“You know it’s fine,” she said, suddenly feeling shy. He stepped closer and leaned towards her before lightly brushing his lips against hers. Too soon the kiss was over, and he was grinning at her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.
“Tomorrow, then,” she agreed, nodding. She watched him turn and head down the street, only going inside when he was completely gone from her sight. Once she was safely inside and the door was locked behind her, she let out a loud whoop, fueled both by the desire Harry had left unsatisfied and the excitement that was roiling around in her stomach.
She went into her bedroom and divested herself of the rose-colored robe before hanging it carefully in her closet. From her dresser she chose an old tank top and a pair of worn shorts that had seen better days, and donned them as her pyjamas before heading back into the living room to watch television. When she entered the room, however, the sight of a white-blonde head visible above the back of the sofa made her freeze.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, please – don’t let my presence curb your obvious enthusiasm,” he snapped without turning around.
“You need to leave. I’m very tired and I’d like to go to bed.”
“That sounds like a capital idea,” he said, rising from the sofa. She stared at him. He was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt, and his normally gelled hair was hanging in loose waves around his face. She hated to admit it, but he was extremely attractive like that.
He eyed her for a moment, taking in her surprised expression, and was confused when he saw desire surface in her eyes.
“Your hair looks ridiculous,” he bit out. She raised her hands to gently prod her hair and realized it was still swept atop her head. She’d forgotten to take the flowers out as well. Her shoulders slumped and they both wondered at it; since when had she desired him to think her pretty?
Perhaps it was simply because of all of the compliments that Harry had showered on her. She felt as though any man might find her attractive, if Harry was speaking the truth – apparently only he found her that way.
Draco cocked his head slightly to one side as he contemplated her. Her hair was definitely different, but in all actuality, he liked it. The flowers were a bit too much, but the hairstyle itself suited her. At least its bushiness had been tamed for a few hours, which was a mercy to anyone who was forced to look at the woman.
She was staring silently at him, which was another cause for wonder. He’d never known her not to have something to say, and her silence in response to one of his insults was nigh to a miracle. He turned it over and over in his head as they stared at each other.
“You were waiting for me,” she said finally, her voice soft. The sweetness of her words took him by surprise; he was used to her words being full of venom.
“Yes,” he answered cautiously, wary of this new side of her.
“Was there something you wanted?”
“You know what I want.” Her cheeks colored then, so pink that they very nearly matched the color of the flowers in her hair.
“I don’t suppose I could beg off for tonight, could I?”
He frowned. Was she asking his permission not to have sex with him? He closed the distance between them and reached out for her.
“I guess not,” she whispered. His mouth descended on hers, hard and brutal. She endured the kiss, though she didn’t respond, and that angered him. He knew where she’d been and whom she’d been there with tonight – did she think him a fool?
And did one date with Potter make her suddenly not desire him?
He pulled her shorts down with an almost frantic need and shoved her down onto the sofa before covering her body with his own. As he drove into her repeatedly, he purged himself of all thoughts of her. This will be the last time, he thought. I will not return to her again while she’s thinking of Potter.
He reached his climax with startling speed, and after he was finished, climbed off of her, not caring if she’d achieved satisfaction or not. He zipped up his jeans as she fished her shorts off of the floor and slid them back on, then rose and moved towards the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway and turned back as if to say something, but after several moments, she left the room.
He sat down on her sofa, trying to gather his thoughts for a moment. The woman was getting to him, and that was unnerving. One evening with Potter had made her saccharine sweet and had erased all of the hate that he was sure had fueled her lusty sessions with him.
He was still contemplating the change when suddenly a steaming mug of tea was shoved under his nose. He glanced up to see her unsmiling face, and took the mug from her without a second thought. She sat down beside him and sipped at her own mug.
He kept waiting for her to ask him why he was still there, but she remained silent as she drank. After a while he drank too, wondering himself why he hadn’t gone. He was glad that she hadn’t plagued him with speech; things were confusing enough at the moment without her befuddling him with her nonsensical talk.
When they’d both finished their drinks, she reached for his cup. He stilled her with a gentle hand on her wrist, and her surprised eyes darted up to meet his. He remained silent as he plucked a flower from her hair and examined it, turning it over several times as he did.
“Why would you put something like this in your hair?” he asked. She gave him a guarded look. The question hadn’t sounded like it held any of his usual malice or loathing, but she couldn’t be sure; Draco Malfoy was nothing if not an accomplished actor.
“I didn’t put it in my hair, a friend of mine did,” she said, focusing her eyes back on the empty tea cup she held.
“To what purpose?”
“It was just supposed to look pretty,” she said, shrugging.
He seemed to turn this over in his head as he reached over and pulled another flower out. When they were all lying on the table, he pulled his wand out. Her heart skipped several beats as he pointed the wand at her head. He murmured something that she could barely hear, and her hair tumbled out of its trappings and fell in curls around her shoulders.
Malfoy captured a curl between his fingers and looked intently at it. “Why didn’t your hair go back to normal when I reversed the binding spell?”
“Because my friend used a Muggle tool called a curling iron to get it to look like this,” she said, fidgeting under his steely gaze. What was going on, here? Why was he being so – almost – normal?
“I don’t like it,” he pronounced finally.
“Well, that’s fine,” she said, frustration getting the better of her. “Because it wasn’t done for your benefit, anyway!”
“I wouldn’t expect you to do anything for my benefit,” he snapped. “Nor would I want you to.”
“You wouldn’t?” she snorted. She disappeared into her room, and then emerged holding aloft a scrap of emerald green silk. “And I suppose that’s why you gave me this? To not wear for you?”
He gave a light shrug of his shoulders from his seat on the sofa. “Think what you want.”
“Why are you giving me things like this? Just to destroy them again?” she continued.
“Those knickers probably cost more than your entire wardrobe,” he said angrily, rising from the sofa. “Why should you care why I give them to you, so long as you get them?”
“For one, I’m not a whore to be bought off with gifts!” she yelled, her eyes blazing. “And secondly, it’s a waste of money to buy me something so expensive when you just plan on destroying it anyway!”
He was dazed for a moment before he recovered, shaking his head to clear it of the cobwebs that had started to form. “You’re upset because I’m wasting my own money?” he asked incredulously.
Her cheeks colored. “I’m upset because it’s a waste of money, period. And I don’t want to feel like you’re trying to buy me off, either!”
“Whores get paid for what they do,” he said, his eyes glittering strangely. “And they do their jobs well. Malfoys do not employ whores, though they sometimes have kept women.”
“I’m not a kept woman, and I don’t want to be one, either!”
“So you continue having sex with me why? Just because you want to?”
“I don’t want –“ she threw her hands up in exasperation. To tell him that she didn’t want to sleep with him would be a lie, even given her feelings for Harry, and Hermione had never liked lying, no matter the reason. “I don’t know. Why can’t you leave me alone? Why must you do this? Do you delight in torturing me?”
“Torturing you?” he sneered. “How do you think I feel about all of this? I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to want you. I have a pureblooded witch waiting in my bed at home,” he pointed out.
“And I have Harry now, so-“
“What?” he asked, his voice lowering dangerously. His eyes narrowed. “You have Potter now, is that what you said?” her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink as she nodded.
“That’s why he wanted to take me out to dinner. We’ve decided we’re going to try and make a go of things, so-“
“I forbid it,” he snarled imperiously. Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “I forbid it, do you hear me? I’ve told you from the beginning that you would not shag Potter and I at the same time!”
“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date!” she cried, her temper rising again. “It’s not as if you and I are dating, or in some sort of an exclusive relationship! Besides, you’re shagging someone else – why can’t I?”
This is madness. It sounds as if I’ve just said that I want to keep him and shag him even when I’m with Harry, and that isn’t what I meant… is it?
“You are mine, do you understand me?” he growled, gripping her by the wrist and yanking her flush against him. “Mine!”
His mouth descended on hers, effectively stopping any response she may have had.