Hold Your Breath, Little Lungs

Chapter 9 - - Hold your breath, little lungs

- - -

Hermione gathered her courage as she stood on the porch outside the Potters' house. She had written to Ginny immediately following her date with Draco, asking her to invite Ron over under the guise of celebrating her birthday, which was the following day. She had to tell her friends the truth before they found out from the Daily Prophet or, worse, from someone who had seen them together earlier that afternoon.

Steeling herself, Hermione knocked.

Harry opened the door and beamed. "Hey, Hermione. Happy early twenty-fifth!" He wrapped her in a crushing hug. "Come in, come in. It was a nice surprise, having the four of us for dinner," he said as he led her to the kitchen.

"Yeah," she said, hoping she sounded as excited as he did.

"Hermione's here," he announced.

Ginny gave her a significant look, and Ron grinned.

"Hi, all," she greeted, taking off her coat and setting it with her purse on a chair.

"Dinner will be ready in a bit," said Ginny. "Why don't you three go and talk in the living room? Harry, take the bottle of wine I put in the fridge. Ron, here are some appetizers. James is in bed already, so don't be too loud."

"Sure thing," said Harry, kissing Ginny on the head.

Hermione followed the men out, sending Ginny a silent 'thank you' and 'help' all rolled into one look.

Harry poured the wine for the three of them, and then he and Ron took a small sip. Hermione finished her entire serving in three gulps. Ron gaped at her.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked.

"I have news," she said, wanting to get the confession...and the outrage to follow...over with. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "I'm seeing someone."

Ron frowned. "That's a good thing, right?. Why are you nervous, Hermione?"

She glanced at Harry, who was looking at her intently, though without the puzzled element that Ron was sporting. As she held his gaze, his eyes narrowed slightly, then widened. "Harry," she began.

"Really?" he asked, his tone incredulous and surprised.

"What are you thinking?" She didn't want to presume she knew what conclusion he'd reached, even though the look in his eyes confirmed that he was thinking about Draco.

"What are you two on about?" said Ron, frustrated.

Hermione stared intently at Harry for a few more seconds until he sighed resignedly and looked away with a shrug. Then she turned to Ron. "It's Malfoy. I've started seeing him. We met today for tea."

Ron's face went from frustration to anger and disgust. "Ugh, Hermione! How could you possibly like him?"

"He's not the same person he was," she argued, the answer long prepared. "He's changed a lot, and if you'd give him a chance, you would at least see that. I'm not asking for you to be friends, but I'll probably bring him around sometime. Just ... be civil, and don't start anything, or bring up the past, or accuse him of things."

Ron shook his head and looked at Harry. "You knew?"

"No," said Harry. "There was just something about the way she was acting. The way he looked at her at the last Quidditch game. I guessed."

"And you're all right with it?" Ron asked, incredulous.

Harry hesitated before answering. "Honestly ... I'm not exactly thrilled, but I have tried to be friendly to Malfoy. I don't think he has a lot of people in his life he can count on, if any. Just be careful, Hermione. I want to say that I trust him, but I can't. We're a long way from that."

Hermione sent Harry a grateful look, relieved that Harry was at least listening and somewhat open.

Ron stood and started pacing the room, still angry. "But it's Malfoy! He was such an enormous git in school! He's a ... a Death Eater, a bloody sniveling coward! Remember him?"

"Ron," Harry cautioned.

"That's who he was, Ron, not who he is." Hermione crossed her arms, mentally preparing for a fight. "Please, just accept this, and don't make this harder on me."

He stopped where he was and met Hermione's pleading gaze. His face softened and he went to her side. "Oh, Hermione. I don't want to be difficult. I made a right mess of things once, and ... well, I won't do it again. I ... I trust you, and I'll be civil, and I'll try to understand."

"Oh, Ron!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. When she pulled away, Ron was looking at her funny. "What?"

"How long have you two been ... together?" He said the words as though they tasted like dragon dung.

"Well, we just went on our first date today, and..."

"No details without me!" called Ginny from the kitchen. "You lot come on in here, dinner is ready."

Hermione told them as much as she could without giving anything away about the true nature of her association with Draco and without providing Harry and Ron with too much information. They didn't want to hear her describe, as she later did for Ginny, the way Draco had looked at her when he first saw her (at which point, Ginny exclaimed, "I told you so!"), or the way it felt when he smiled at her. Still, Hermione didn't go into too much detail, even with Ginny, because she wanted to keep a few things for herself and because while talking about it, she felt herself getting caught up as though it was the beginning of a real relationship.

When she lay in bed that night, trying to go to sleep, she realized that her heart was already involved. It had happened so quickly she hadn't even noticed; otherwise she would have tried to fight it. Draco was wonderful company and stimulating conversation, but he ignited a fire in her that was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was similar to what she'd felt for Charlie when they were their happiest, but yet completely different. She couldn't pinpoint the reason for this occurrence with Draco, and it was unsettling.

Fortunately, Hermione still had the option of backing out of their agreement. He had said that up to when he told her about the task, she could walk away. If she got in too deep, if she feared she would get her heart entangled or broken, she would end their association before he told her anything.

She hoped that she would be able to work with him, since he had seemed desperate and was convinced that she was the only person who could help him.

ooo

Hermione received many well-wishes on her birthday, both from students and teachers. Her parents sent her a new set of inks...Hawthorne, her favorite...and Hagrid baked an inedible cake for her. George sent her a trick card, a prototype for a line of joke greeting cards, that was stuck shut and made fun of her for being too weak to pry open two pages of parchment.

Most surprising, however, was the heavy package she received just before dinner. It was sharply wrapped in dark blue paper and white ribbon. Puzzled, she opened the accompanying card.

Excited and stunned, Hermione carefully removed the paper to reveal Turlington's Complete Guide to Flora, Fifteenth Edition, a four-volume set of books considered to be the definitive resource on plant-based potions ingredients. It had been on her wish list for years, but was too expensive for her salary.

At first, she was thrilled, then reluctant to accept the gift. It was far too much for their situation...it was too much even if they were truly dating. She would have to discuss the matter with him when they met for lunch later in the week ... but it certainly couldn't hurt to peek through the books until then.

ooo

Monday afternoon, at ten minutes to two, Hermione sat in her classroom going over the list of groups she had formed. She had decided to put Evan with Sheetal after having tea with Draco. At the thought of what might have been possible, were their circumstances different, Hermione felt strongly that she should help Evan out in the only way she could. If nothing materialized, then perhaps it wasn't meant to be.

Samaya Black entered the classroom first and after depositing her bag on her desk, approached Hermione's desk.

"Afternoon, Professor," she said, a smug look on her face.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Hello, Samaya."

Then the Slytherin placed something on the desk and Hermione's eyes widened. She hastily picked up the most recent edition of Witch Weekly, staring in slight horror at the picture on the front. She was holding hands with Draco, walking down Diagon Alley. The Draco in the picture would lean over and whisper in her ear, and her picture self would laugh. As they walked, her arm brushed against his, and she remembered the feeling she'd gotten as though he was right there, and it had just happened again.

Hermione shut her eyes tight, hoping against hope that the image before her would disappear when she opened them. It didn't, and she watched the image repeat.

"Merlin, he's so handsome," said Samaya, who had moved around Hermione's desk to stare at the rag over her shoulder. "He's not that much older than me," she said.

"You are related," Hermione said disapprovingly, placing the magazine face down on her desk.

"Distantly." Samaya laughed. "Keep it. You should read the article."

The rest of the class filtered into the room then, taking their usual seats with their friends. Samaya sat down, a pleased look on her face. Hermione could tell that all of her students had seen the magazine. The girls were whispering to each other and glancing toward their teacher while the boys were staring at her. Evan, especially, was giving her a hard, appraising look.

"Well, it's Monday," Hermione began, leaning on the front of her desk. "How did you enjoy your weekend?"

Six hands shot into the air, and Hermione called on Ketty first.

"Is it true you went on a date with the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor?"

Hermione felt her face flush and indicated Karalynn, who also had her hand raised.

"Did he kiss you?" she asked.

Flustered, Hermione ignored both questions. "Does anyone want to tell me about their weekend?" No one said a word and a few people shook their head. "Fine. We'll just move on with the lesson then, shall we?"

As she rounded her desk to get her notes, no one made a move to retrieve their books. Half the class started whispering, and Hermione thought she saw a few of them with copies of Witch Weekly tucked in their packs. Samaya simply grinned.

"All right." She flicked her wand and it beeped loudly. When everyone was facing forward again, Hermione sighed. "You aren't going to pay attention to anything I say today, are you?"

"No, ma'am," said Samaya with a smirk.

"If we talk about this, get it out in the air, will you promise to work extra hard the rest of the period?"

They nodded enthusiastically, and a few of the boys slumped in their chairs, getting more comfortable.

Hermione rarely discussed her personal life with her students, but her seventh-year class was different. It always had been, though she'd never had anything quite so interesting to share with them. She tried to treat them like adults, since most of them already were by wizarding standards. It made for a very pleasant classroom experience for everyone.

She sat on the front of her desk and looked at her students, all gazing at her, their attention rapt. "To answer your question, Ketty, yes, I went on a date with Draco Malfoy."

"Yeah!" cried Corey, pumping his fist. "Way to go, Professor Granger!"

Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Did he kiss you?" Karalynn repeated, leaning forward on her desk, a dreamy look on her face. "He's so good-looking."

Ketty, Sheetal and Samaya agreed wholeheartedly.

"No. It was only our first date."

"Will there be others?" Samaya asked without waiting to be called on.

"It's safe to say there will be," Hermione answered. An odd mixture of feelings flitted through her heart, and she was again reminded that she needed to be very careful to protect it from harm. Draco had been so charming and open on their date that she found herself constantly forgetting that it wasn't real.

Then Evan tentatively raised his hand and Hermione gave him leave to speak. "Malfoy ... he was in Slytherin, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," she replied.

"And you were in Gryffindor." At Hermione's affirmative nod, he continued. "Do ... do you think that will work all right?"

Hermione was infinitely pleased that this subject had been broached, and by a student, too. She hadn't needed to bring it up. Here was an excellent chance to discuss inter-house cooperation and the ridiculous stigma that existed on the subject of dating between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"That's an interesting question, Evan. Draco and I are from the two houses of Hogwarts which have a reputation for enmity."

"No one's ever been in a relationship between those houses," said Sheetal. "What makes you think you and Draco Malfoy have a chance?"

Hermione considered the question carefully before responding. "Draco and I, as you know, come from a different time than you. We went through the war, we both fought, on different sides. You all know his story, I'm sure, but don't be hasty. The boy he was at sixteen is not the man he is today. He went through a lot of difficult things in his life, and he is truly a better person for it. I'm willing to give him a chance because I believe, in the end, he's worth it."

"Still, there's the house difference," said Corey.

"Yes, well." Hermione sighed. "Draco and I are no longer in school, and houses don't mean a whole lot to us. They are still of great importance to all of you, and I understand that. While we were here, we never would have considered each other, and I don't think that's right when based solely on house allegiance.

"The dissidence between Slytherin and Gryffindor stems back to the founders themselves. While Slytherin wanted to allow only those of pure blood into the school, Gryffindor and the others disagreed. It's really a shame that the two houses haven't tried to get along more in the past. I believe great things could be accomplished if all the houses worked together."

"Is it true what Sheetal said? That there's never been a relationship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor?" asked Ketty.

Hermione smiled. "Think about it. This school was founded about a thousand years ago. For a millennium, students have walked these halls. Do you really think it's likely that in all that time, not one Slytherin student was willing to risk his or her reputation to be with someone in Gryffindor?"

The students processed the information, whispering amongst themselves.

"Your generation," Hermione said, waving her wand over the room in general, "is in the best position to stand for change. To send a message to generations to come that old prejudices don't fit here anymore, that you are more interested in what makes a person than in a title given to them by an old hat."

Corey clapped heartily at the conclusion of Hermione's impassioned speech, and Samaya, Damian and Edgar joined him. "Nicely put, Professor," Corey said. "Right, so who wants to volunteer?"

The rest of the class, except Evan, laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not suggesting anyone volunteer. It's not a chore or an assignment. Merely something to think about. After all, you can't help who you're attracted to. The last thing I'll say on this topic is this. I should hope that house orientation would not prevent someone from pursuing a relationship, romantic or otherwise. Now, let's get to the subject at hand. Group assignments."

All eyes were on her as Hermione picked up the list from her desk. "When I call your names, I want you to move and sit with your new group. We'll do an exercise today that will incorporate your weekend homework."

Everyone gathered their things into manageable piles, ready to move seats.

"Group one: Corey, Damian, and Karalynn." The sound of scraping chairs followed as the three students moved to one corner of the room. "Group two: Evan, Sheetal, and Tom." Hermione refused to watch the reactions of her students, though with this particular group, she was immensely curious. "Finally, group three: Edgar, Ketty, and Samaya."

Hermione watched the final group form, and noted that Evan did not opt for a seat beside Sheetal. "Good, thank you. Now, I want you to spend the rest of the class period developing roles for each of you. Use your strengths and weaknesses to guide you. You can choose whatever roles you wish. An example might be a Lead Researcher or Note-Taker. It all depends on the dynamics within your group."

While her students then settled into their new seats and pulled out their homework, she continued. "I know this is Arithmancy, but you will benefit from learning to work in a group, especially one where you are not familiar with your team members. More often than not, in your professional lives, you will be required to work as part of a group or team. Very few people go through life working by themselves. You may begin. I want your strengths and weaknesses, as well as your group's role list at the end of class."

There were no questions, so Hermione returned to her desk. As her students talked quietly, she couldn't help but glance at the magazine, still face down on her desk. Only eight minutes passed before she gave up and pulled it open, her curiosity raging.

Hermione stared at the words on the page. Draco couldn't take his eyes off her? Well, he was certainly doing a very convincing job, then. People would have no doubts as to their relationship after reading the article. As she read, it continued to describe their entire walk, every store they went into, every purchase she made. Eliza Cuthbert had interviewed everyone who'd waited on them, and they all made similar remarks about Draco's 'attentiveness.'

Unwittingly, hope flared in her chest, and then she was forced to quash it. None of it was real, after all. Draco was an excellent actor, something else she hadn't known about him. The realization oddly disappointed her.

When the bell rang, Hermione returned the magazine to Samaya.

"I think he's even better looking in person than in pictures," she remarked, stuffing the rag into her pack. "Don't you?"

Hermione sighed, not wanting to express her true feelings on the matter, but realizing that she needed to do her own bit of convincing. "I agree," she said truthfully. "But it's not an everyday kind of attractiveness. He's got such strong lines and hard eyes sometimes."

Samaya grinned. "Still. You think he's gorgeous, admit it."

"His looks have never been called into question," Hermione said, gathering the stack of parchments her students had handed in. "But yes, I do." She winked at her student and left the room, grateful for the end of the day.

ooo

Draco had been in his office for five minutes on Wednesday morning when the door slammed, rattling on its hinges, and startled him. He glanced up, ready to rip into whoever had dared intrude on his morning in such a fashion, to see Pansy standing just inside the door, her arms crossed and a familiar item rolled in her hand.

"Morning, Pansy," Draco said, his anger evaporated. He poured himself a cup of coffee. "Can I get you anything? If I had known you were coming, I would have called for pastries."

Pansy marched to his desk and tossed the item down. It landed face up, and Draco was greeted once again with the picture of him and Hermione in Diagon Alley, hands linked.

"Explain," she demanded, taking a seat across from him.

It was obvious she wouldn't be leaving until she was answered to her satisfaction, and he had a meeting in fifty-five minutes that couldn't be moved. He hoped there was enough time to talk to her and still get his morning routine out of the way.

He shrugged. "What can I say?"

"Granger? Are you serious, Draco?" Pansy looked at him, frowning severely.

"What took you so long to come by? The issue was published on Sunday."

"I came back from my trip to Rome, early I might add, so I could hear from your own mouth that this is just ... rubbish. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. Please, Draco. Tell me this isn't true."

"It's true." Part of him delighted in the anticipation of how Pansy would further react. Already she'd bested his imagination's attempts to portray this eventuality.

Pansy groaned and closed her eyes as though he had just told her he had been diagnosed with a terminal disease. "What is the matter with you?" she asked, shaking her head. "Granger. Of all the ... plain, mundane, boring women in the world .... If you'd told me you wanted to meet someone completely dull, I could have sent dozens of witches your way."

Illusion or not, Draco didn't like the way Pansy was talking. "Careful, Pansy. Hermione is a very lovely woman. She's interesting, intelligent and..."

"Muggle-born," Pansy said flatly. "What will your parents say?"

He sneered. He knew exactly what they would say, since he had a letter from his mother tucked into an inner pocket of his suit jacket. "I don't care what they say."

Pansy's eyes were so wide Draco thought they might pop out at any moment.

"You don't .... Merlin, Draco. How did this happen? Granger?"

"You know I went to Quidditch one Saturday, at Potter's invitation. Well, Hermione was there. We spoke, and it was as though I'd never met her before, never hated her or called her awful names. I found her to be ... well, breathtaking is the only word for it." Draco made a mental note to watch himself. He'd been attracted to Hermione before this whole thing started, and if he wasn't careful, he was liable to cross the line and forget that she was only spending time with him because he had recruited her help.

Pansy made a face. "But, it's Granger! She's the annoying know-it-all from school, how can you stand to be around her?"

"She's different," Draco said, glancing again at the magazine cover. He didn't think he would never tire of looking at it or, specifically, her. When he had seen her that day, sitting at their table in the white dress, he had been frozen in amazement. Then when their eyes met, everything else faded had around him, leaving only the two of them. He hadn't been sure he would be able to get through the lunch date without giving himself away; by the end, he was certain that he had. Draco hadn't been ready for their time together to be over, so he had suggested the walk.

It had been too easy to pretend, to hold her hand, to whisper in her ear. Being with her had felt like the most natural thing in the world, as though he belonged by her side.

Draco was in deep trouble, and he knew it.

"Thank Merlin I got over you before this happened," Pansy said, examining her manicure. "Otherwise I think it might have killed me."

"Stop being so dramatic," Draco scolded. "It's not really that big a deal."

"No?" said Pansy quizzically. "I beg to differ, Mr. Malfoy. You: successful, rich, pure-blood. Her: famous, plain, Mudblood."

"Don't call her that," Draco barked, leaning forward and scowling at his friend. "If you ever use that word in my hearing again, we are no longer friends. Do you understand?"

Pansy watched him, unfazed. "You really do like her, don't you? Part of me thought it was some kind of act, though what you might stand to gain, I couldn't possibly guess. Fine, Draco. You like her, then it's fine with me."

He rolled his eyes and he settled back into his chair. "I certainly don't need your permission."

"True, but you could use my support. I'm not sure how many will stand by you through this. Have you considered how this could impact your standing? Your reputation? Your contacts and business relationships?"

"I'm not concerned about that," he said, despite the niggling feelings of doubt her words had planted inside him. Finding the blackmailer was his top priority, and he would take whatever penalties were incurred as a result of his methods, even if it meant losing a few clients along the way. "If people don't like my choices, they can speak with me directly," he said quietly.

Pansy bit her lip. "This is just so sudden, Draco. You haven't dated anyone in years, and then you show up with her looking for all the world head over heels in love with her?"

He sighed. "Do I have your support or not, Pansy? I'm going to continue seeing her either way."

"Yes, of course," she huffed. "Does this mean I have to be nice to her?"

Draco laughed at that. "That's exactly what it means. Was there anything else?"

Pansy sniffed and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

"What is it?" Draco asked, preparing himself for something ridiculous.

"Have you ... kissed her?"

The look on Pansy's face, one of mortified fascination, nearly made him laugh again, but then he considered her question. A kiss would certainly be expected at some point to make their relationship appear legitimate. The sensation he experienced...like a hundred cannons shot off in rapid succession and then left to bounce around his gut and chest...at merely holding her hand had nearly undone him.

If he kissed her .... He swallowed hard at the thought. Why did his body insist on reacting to her as though he had never been with a woman?

"Okay," said Pansy. "I don't want to know."

Draco reddened, embarrassed that the direction of his inner musings had been so obvious. "No, we haven't kissed."

"Obviously, that won't last long," Pansy said, smirking.

"Was there anything else you needed? I have a meeting to prepare for."

She glanced over his head, as though finding something out the window very interesting. "Oh, no. Nothing more about Granger, anyway."

"What is it?" he asked, noting with concern that only twenty-four minutes remained until his meeting. He generally needed at least twenty-eight for his morning schedule, but that was pushing it.

"Have you seen Greg lately?"

Draco blinked, surprised at the question. "No, not since he returned from Fiji. He's been very busy with those samples. Why?"

"No reason," Pansy said, standing and smoothing down her skirt. "Simply curious is all. Good luck with Granger, Draco. If she hurts you, I'll rip her hair out and strangle her with it."

"Thanks," Draco said, uneasy about the dangerous tone in Pansy's voice. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Of course. Bye, Draco. You can keep the magazine," she said with a wink.

Pansy turned and left the room, leaving Draco alone. He picked up the weekly and stared at Hermione. All thoughts of work had been driven from his mind when Pansy mentioned his kissing Hermione, and that wouldn't do. He tossed the magazine into a drawer and forced himself to focus. His meeting was next, it would last until he left to meet Hermione for lunch, and he refused to be distracted.

ooo

Hermione wrapped her cloak around her as she exited the castle. The heavy doors closed behind her with a thud, and she walked down the front steps toward the gate. Beyond that, she would Apparate to Hogsmeade and make her way to the Three Broomsticks.

As she walked towards her destination, Hermione thought about her decision. The groups she had made were working out very well...at least, no one had yet come to her asking to be switched or complaining about a team member. However, that morning had only been their second day of working together and the groups hadn't even been given their assignments yet. No doubt trouble would arise at some point. It always did.

As Hermione neared the gates, she felt the nervous butterflies pick up their intensity. She scolded herself, trying to remember that it wasn't real, none of it was real.

When she had thought about what to wear for her lunch date that day, her first thought was to impress. She relished the look on his face when he'd seen her the week before. However, she'd quickly remembered that she wasn't out to impress him, just to make people think she was dating him. With that thought in mind, she didn't change, deciding to wear her school robes. After all, she had classes that afternoon, and it would be a bother to change again.

Hermione sighed as she shut the gate behind her, then Disapparated before she could think anymore.

The traditional Apparition spot in Hogsmeade was at the end of the main road farthest from Hogwarts. Her destination was just a few hundred feet away, and with her heart racing, Hermione started toward the pub.

She took a deep breath once she reached the Three Broomsticks and then pushed open the door. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust from the bright outdoors to the dim interior.

Hermione shrugged out of her cloak and looked around, her eyes landing on Draco's long form sitting a few tables away. He was bent over the paper, a cup of coffee at his place and his legs extended as far as they could reach under the table.

"Afternoon, love," said Rosmerta from the bar with a smile. "What brings you around? It's not even the weekend."

Hermione returned the smile. "I'm meeting someone for lunch."

"Ah, lovely," said the barmaid, winking. "Be it that blond bloke in the corner, by chance? He's been looking up every other second, expectant, and he's staring at you now."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush and nodded, annoyed at her reaction. "Thank you, Rosmerta." She went to the table where Draco was sitting and slid onto the bench across from him.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Draco said, "Hello."

"Hi," Hermione replied with a slight smile.

Rosmerta came then to take their orders, and since both Draco and Hermione had been there many times, they knew what they wanted without opening a menu. Draco chose the fish and chips with a beer while Hermione opted for a chicken sandwich and butterbeer.

"Coming right out," said Rosmerta, winking at Draco.

Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow.

"We've got a special relationship," Draco explained. "Ever since I ... well, after she kicked me out on my arse...literally...and refused to let me into the place, I apologized for my actions years ago. Took some work, but she finally forgave me."

"After you paid off the huge debt I owed, allowing me to keep this place," Rosmerta said, depositing their drinks. "You're still a cheeky little prat sometimes."

Draco grinned and raised his glass to her. "Naturally."

"Don't let him get away with anything, Hermione," the older woman warned playfully before leaving them alone.

Hermione couldn't help the jealous thoughts that suffused her mind. She didn't like to think what lengths he might have gone to in an attempt to earn the buxom woman's forgiveness.

She took a dainty sip of her drink and then said, without looking at him, "You know, Ron used to have the biggest crush on her in school."

Draco chuckled. "What bloke didn't? She serves alcohol, for Merlin's sake, looking like that."

"Lovely," Hermione bit out through clenched teeth. She had heard plenty from Ron and Harry discussing her many fine attributes.

He chuckled again and took a sip of his beer. "Course, she's old enough to be my mum, which isn't something I go for. Blaise, on the other hand .... He likes older women, did you know that?"

Hermione nearly spat out her drink. "What? No!"

Draco smirked. "Ask him about Rosie sometime."

"I'd rather not, thank you," she replied, relieved that her fears had been allayed.

"How did Potter and Weasley take the news?" Draco asked.

"Better than I expected, actually. Harry was quiet and then grudgingly accepting. At first, I thought Ron was going to have a fit and make a big scene and then not talk to me for weeks until Harry or Ginny convinced him he was being ridiculous. But we were able to avoid that this time."

He raised an eyebrow. "This time?"

Hermione shook her head, no amusement on her face, and he got the message. "How about you? Did you tell anyone?"

"No." He smiled ruefully and reached into his coat. "Doesn't mean no one found out, of course." He pulled a letter from an envelope, unfolded it, and set it before Hermione.

She glanced over the letter, saw that it was from Narcissa, and pulled it closer to read.

Hermione's gut was churning by the time she finished the short missive, and not in a good way. Very carefully, she folded the letter and returned it to Draco.

Draco was watching her with a concerned expression. "You all right?"

"Oh, fine," she said lightly. "I hardly expected anything else from Lucius Malfoy." When she spoke his name, her tone was frigid.

Draco stowed the letter back in his pocket and then reached his hand across the table to cover hers. "Don't let it get to you. I'm not concerned about them."

Hermione was so stunned by his comforting action and the strong feelings of elation and giddiness that accompanied it, that she could only stare at their hands for a few seconds before speaking. "They're your parents. They disapprove of ... us."

He shrugged. "I don't care. They don't control me, and I certainly don't hold to their antiquated views."

When he began lightly rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand, she nearly pulled her hand away from his. The sensations were so intense that she found it difficult to think.

"I'm lower than dirt in their eyes, Draco. I'm not too proud to admit that your father frightens me."

"I would never let him hurt you. He ... he wouldn't, anyway." Draco pulled his hand away then as Rosmerta returned with their food. Once she was gone, he continued. "My father may not approve, but I'm my own man, and I don't care what he says. I can see whomever I wish, and that includes you."

She smiled sadly. "That's lovely for you to say, but this isn't real. Do you want to risk alienating your parents for a fake relationship?"

He met her eyes, his surprisingly fierce. "Doesn't change anything. I won't let them tell me who I can and cannot date. Now, please don't think about it anymore. Put it out of your mind. They aren't even in the country, so there's nothing to worry about."

Hermione nodded, her thoughts troubled. She hadn't expected acceptance from his parents, but it still stung, just like it did every time she was faced with the inequalities in the wizarding world.

"Pansy took it better than I had expected," he said, taking a bite of his meal.

"Pansy knows?"

He smiled. "Everyone knows. She stormed into my office this morning, demanding I explain what she saw and read in Witch Weekly. I did, and to my surprise, she was accepting. She gave me her support, and promised that she would be nice to you."

"Ha!" Hermione said. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"If I have to be nice to your friends, it means you have to be nice to mine," said Draco, a friendly glint in his eyes.

"I know that!" she said. "I have every intention of being nice to her. I never said otherwise." Hermione glanced around the pub and saw that it was only half-full. "Do you think people will know about our date?" she whispered.

He smirked, and nodded his head toward the window.

Hermione followed his motion and saw people standing around outside the window beside their table. Some had cameras, some extendable ears. When they saw her look at them, the group snapped to attention and started taking pictures. Draco leaned over and gave a small wave, and then they both scooted away from the window.

"Incredible," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Have they nothing better to do?"

Draco chuckled. "That's what they do for a living. Follow people around."

"Think it will always be like this?" she asked, imagining what it would be like to try and have a relationship with thousands of people watching.

"Probably. Of course, we don't have to be so deliberately public. Once people get used to the idea of us, we can be more discreet."

"It's all you, you know," she said teasingly. "I don't draw that much attention."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I disagree. You're in that weekly as much as I am." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, smiling. "I checked. It's the two of us together that draws them out in such numbers."

"Wow. Imagine if ...." She trailed off, letting the rest of her sentence float in the hot air between them. Their eyes met and an entire conversation passed between their hearts of which neither was aware.

After a moment of silence, Hermione remembered his gift. "Oh! Draco! Thank you so much for the books you sent."

His eyes flashed with mirth. "You didn't have them then?"

"No, and they're wonderful, but...as much as I hate to say this...I can't accept them."

Draco frowned. "I ... don't understand."

"It's simply too much," she explained. "Far too much for where we are in this."

"Do you like the gift?" he asked patiently, as though he had anticipated her objections to it.

"Of course, it's amazing; I've wanted the set for years."

"Will you use it?" he intoned.

"Yes, absolutely..."

"Then keep it. I have no use for them, and I certainly can't return them." He met her gaze. "They'll sit in my library and collect dust. I thought of you, I know you'll put them to good use. What more could I ask for?"

Hermione found it very tempting to accept the gift, and his rationalization wasn't helping her resolve. "But ... this isn't even .... It's too much."

"There are some things in life that can't be priced," he responded carefully. "Your assistance is invaluable. I want you to keep the gift."

She heard the unspoken 'please' in his eyes, and it echoed in her mind. "You really insist?"

"I do. My mind is made up; I cannot be swayed." He smiled. "I can be quite stubborn when I choose to be. This isn't the point you want to push, I assure you."

"Then I can't thank you enough. I can't wait to explore them."

They continued to talk easily as they ate, though Hermione wasn't terribly hungry after reading Narcissa's letter. She managed to eat enough to ensure that she wouldn't be hungry for a couple of hours at least.

When they'd both finished, Rosmerta sauntered over. "You two need anything else? Refills?"

"I'll take a single shot of whatever you bring me," said Draco in a slightly strangled tone.

"Nothing for me," Hermione said, looking at him with wide eyes.

Draco sat rigidly and said nothing until the shot had been delivered and consumed in one gulp. "When we leave here, I'll walk you to the edge of town. Hogwarts, if you prefer. I expect we'll be followed." He took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Do I have your permission to kiss you?"

Hermione gasped and her heart started pounding. "What?"

"I thought ... it might be an appropriate gesture at this point."

His question had momentarily dislodged Hermione's thoughts from reality, and she forgot that they were pretending. At his clinical statement, the truth came back. "Oh. Right. Um, all right, but just on the cheek."

"Cheek. Got it."

Hermione's first thought was that it had to look natural. How was that possible, now that they had effectively planned their first kiss? She wouldn't have minded him kissing her spontaneously, so long as it wasn't too heavy. Displays of affection were a natural part of relationships.

"Shall we go, then?" Draco asked, counting through some coins in his hand.

"Sure."

He stood and left the appropriate payment on the table, then helped Hermione into her cloak. Once they were standing outside the pub, they were surrounded by the reporters who had been spying on them earlier. They started asking questions, but Draco told them in no uncertain terms to bugger off. Then he took Hermione's hand and led her quickly toward the edge of town.

The group of reporters kept their distance, but Hermione knew they were watching.

"Hogwarts?" Draco asked, lacing his fingers with hers.

"The end of the road should do," she said, not sure if she could handle the long walk to the school with a gaggle of gossips trailing behind.

"As you wish," he said.

They made small talk, mostly about the wares in the shop windows, until they reached the point from which Hermione would Disapparate. Her nerves were twisted inside her, and her heart was pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

She stopped walking and turned around to face him.

"I had a nice time," Draco said.

Hermione nearly laughed; instead, she smiled at him incredulously. It was good, because it loosened some of her nerves.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm sorry. It just struck me as humorous, I guess. There's no need to say something like that, you know. That's what a bloke might say on a real date."

He nodded, his features momentarily betraying hurt before he covered them again. "Of course. But I did have a good time." His voice was smooth as silk.

"Me too," Hermione said.

Then Draco laughed and stepped closer. She thought her heart would burst through her skin at any moment. He was so close now that she could smell him, and again she picked up the scent of her favorite inks. He was peering into her eyes, a lazy smile on his face, as he reached up with his free hand and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. As he brought his hand down, he lightly brushed her cheek.

Hermione felt weak in the knees, and all he had done was touch her face. Her breath was shaky when she inhaled, and she silently cursed, knowing he had noticed.

Draco's hand paused on her chin and then he closed the distance, his lips dancing on her cheek and his essence filling her senses. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. All too soon he pulled back.

Something raged in his eyes and all she could do was stare. Then he moved toward her again and kissed her forehead, this time letting his lips linger. His chest was flush against hers, and she had to fight the impulse to wrap her arms around him and tilt her chin up to capture his mouth with hers.

He stepped back, his eyes still swirling with raw emotion until he looked away from her gaze. When he turned back, the mask was in place again.

"I'll see you Friday," he said. He gave her hand one final squeeze and then let go.

"Friday," Hermione said with a nervous smile. Sweet Merlin, she had one more date to get through! At the rate she was going, she would never make it without falling to pieces.

"I had considered somewhere Muggle, but then that would defeat the purpose of going out," he said.

"That's true," she said, her breathing returning to normal. "Must give the people what they want."

Draco smirked. "And right now, they want us. Have a good day, Hermione."

She nodded and took a few steps away, then Disapparated. She appeared just outside the gates to the school and paused to take several deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves before she had to face the rest of her day.

When she was ready, Hermione entered the castle grounds and took her time walking the path to the front doors. Two thoughts plagued her mind. There was simply no way around it: she was falling for him. Curse him and his good looks, sharp wit, and charming personality! When they were together, it was becoming more and more difficult to remember that he was only acting. In addition, she had no idea which pieces of his behavior were real and which were a performance for the benefit of those who might be watching. Had she seen even a glimpse of the real Draco Malfoy, or was his entire display a farce?

Draco had told her that she could back out at any time up to the point where he told her why he needed her help. It had been a comforting thought, knowing that if she found she couldn't work with him, or tolerate him, or if he was rude and demeaning toward her, that she could end their association before it began. She had never imagined she would consider using his escape clause to avoid being hurt. She knew he was only being so agreeable because he needed something from her. Even those looks he had given her could be explained away as simple surface attraction. The letter from his parents had very clearly showed why they could never really work as a couple. If this was a real relationship, he would probably cave to his parents' desires eventually.

Hermione reached the front door before she realized it and entered with a sigh. She glanced at the large clock in the entryway and saw that she had an hour before her next class.

"Hey, Hermione!"

She smiled at the friendly voice and peered through the crowd for her friend. When her eyes landed on his unruly black hair, she waved. "Hi, Harry!"

"Where are you coming from?" he asked. "And where are you going?"

"A nap," she said, chuckling. "Or at least a bit of silence in my room. And I just came from lunch. Want to walk with me?"

He nodded and fell in step beside her. "Yeah? Ginny didn't mention meeting you today," Harry said bemusedly.

"N-no, not Ginny."

Harry frowned, then realization dawned. "Oh! You met him, didn't you?"

She nodded.

"Are you okay? You seem a little ... off."

Hermione smiled. "I'm fine, Harry. Just a bit ... confused."

"Why? What did he do?" Harry replied, bristling.

"You don't want to know," Hermione said, opening the door to her quarters and letting them both in.

Harry shut the door. "Sure I do."

"He kissed me," she said, flinging herself onto a soft, comfy armchair and starting a low fire.

"You're right; I didn't want to know that." Harry sat in another chair. "Why is that confusing though? Was it ... not good?"

"No, it was great."

"Then ...."

She laughed. "I don't know. Never mind. I suppose ... it was surprising to be so affected by it."

"Right," he drawled uncomfortably. "You need to talk to Ginny about that."

"What I need is some rest," Hermione said, yawning.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. See you later, Hermione."

"Bye, Harry."

After he closed the door softly, she crawled into bed, fully clothed, hoping that sleep would sort everything out.

ooo

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed! The title for this chapter comes from the song "Love Me Honestly" by Brighten. Eternal thanks to my betas, manda, drcjsnider, and pokeystar. You know how much I appreciate you (I hope)!

Art Credit: This chapter's lovely art was done by arthicule of LJ. Isn't it lovely? Music was done, as always, by inadaze22.