Prospect

"Episkey!"

The loud crack of his nose mending made Draco's skin crawl, but he bit back a curse and touched his face tentatively. He peered at the witch sitting next to him on the sofa, venturing a wan smile in her general direction.

"Thanks."

Granger waved her hand. "Don't mention it."

It seemed strange to have her there, in his home, in a room that was very much similar to the drawing room in which she had been tortured by his aunt. Mainly, it was her attire, or lack thereof, that stood in stark contrast with the lavish furniture all around them. It was also the mere fact that, in the years they had known each other, they had never had a real conversation. Even now, after sharing a total of five earth-shattering kisses, Draco couldn't recall talking to her for more than three minutes, in his office, about the blasted bittersweet plant.

"Alea iacta est," he muttered.

The die has been cast.

"I gather you told her," Granger said; her gaze was scanning the books of his personal library with a critical eye.

He nodded. "She threw china at me," he told her.

The corner of her lips curved upwards, but she didn't comment; instead, she breathed deeply and rested her back against the sofa. Draco imitated her, stretching his arms into the air and lowering them slowly as his body fell back, not so subtly sneaking his left arm behind Granger's shoulders. Her small smile widened a little, and she began nibbling her lower lip with her teeth, suppressing a chuckle.

"What?" he asked, intent on keeping the volume of his voice to a quiet murmur.

"Draco Malfoy." She turned her head slightly to look at him. "Are you hitting on me?"

He didn't even try to hide his smirk. "Maybe," he said.

There was a gleam in her eyes that he had never seen before; she gave the impression of being faintly amused by his surreal attempt at romanticism. He had to admit he was a little puzzled by his behaviour too. He had been taught how to court a woman, but Granger was nothing like Asteria. His former fiancée had been meek and unassertive, hence his surprise at her earlier outburst of rage.

"You don't need to play these games with me," Granger said.

"Hermione," he said softly, "I'm not playing games."

"We're already past the unspoken attraction," she countered. "I already know you want to be with me and..."

"I want to do things the right way," he interrupted.

Granger blinked twice in a terribly slow motion. She nervously licked her lips, and Draco saw the fingers of her right hand fidget on her knee. Her eyes were searching his own, though he couldn't understand what she was looking for, and when she spoke, it was in a faint whisper as if she were afraid of her own words.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Why the sudden change? Draco wondered. Her mischievous, confident side he had had the pleasure of observing in the weeks she had pursued him had been incomprehensibly overruled by this less spirited half of her; he was slightly taken aback and thoroughly confused.

"I plan to date you properly, now that I'm a free man," he said.

Her hand gave a small spasm that his keen eyes did not miss, and without knowing the reason for it, he finally understood. It was fear. Granger was afraid of him taking control; it was something she had cleverly avoided dealing with in the past by making sure she was always the one to set up their encounters. However, now that she had got him to do the one thing she couldn't do herself – dispose of Asteria – she had realised she wouldn't be the one in charge of their relationship any longer; the prospect had driven all her confidence out of her.

Draco smiled.

"What?" she asked, thus mirroring his own previous confusion.

"Do I have your permission to kiss you?"

Granger bit her lip, clearly trying to decipher his intentions.

"I guess so..." she said.

She didn't sound at all convinced, but he supposed in the state she was in, he couldn't bank on anything more than a diffident consent. His arm, still behind her shoulders, served as leverage to press her flush against him, and he searched her fidgeting hands with his own left hand. He held her, waiting for her to figure out that he was letting her be in control of the situation. Her overactive mind was still doubtful of him though, and when she moved forward, her kiss was timid, and she kept her eyes half-open for a few seconds longer than usual.

Usual. Draco couldn't wait to apply that word to more aspects of their relationship.

*

Prompt: Shy Kiss.