The Broken Road, Chapter 19 :: Acumen
There was nowhere left to turn. In a cruel twist of fate that she’d had no control over, she had fallen in love with her best friend. Because of that simple fact, she’d been ostracized by her friends as surely as though she’d been condemned to carry some dreaded disease that had no cure.
There was nothing left to do, then, but wait. And oh, how Hermione hated waiting for anything. Why should she be punished and persecuted for falling in love? She had no more control over who she loved than she had control over the weather, so why was everyone acting as though she’d committed some cardinal, unforgivable sin?
Love was never wrong. Was it?
Lately she’d been having doubts about everything, and that was very much out of character for her. She’d begun doubting her accuracy at her job in the Ministry, and had started making stupid mistakes. She’d started to forget things easily. She’d thought at first that it was just the giddy aftermath of Harry’s divorce and his moving in with her.
Now she wondered if giddy aftermath was the right terminology for what was going on. She was positively distracted by him every second of the day. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he with someone else? Was he following her?
She understood that it was difficult for Harry to simply let go of the woman he’d taken to wife and lived with for several years, but her patience was beginning to wear thin. She missed having Harry’s absolute attention when they were together, and she missed the special smiles that he used to give her. It made her wonder who he was saving them for now.
She sighed and shook her head to try and clear her mind of the traitorous thoughts she was having, but they refused to budge. When they’d entered into this tryst, Harry had behaved as though he’d die if he wasn’t with her. Now she just wished that he would make up his mind, since he didn’t seem to know what he wanted anymore. She knew that if he stayed, things would have to change between them. She also knew that, should he choose to leave and seek happiness elsewhere, it would crush her.
Perhaps it was no more than she deserved, she thought bitterly. She’d already lost her two dearest friends as a result of her affair – Ginny for obvious reasons, and Ron, who had labeled her a traitor the moment he’d got wind of her situation. Even if she and Harry were through that very moment, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d lost Ron forever – there was no turning back now.
She had no choice but to plow ahead and pray for the best.
How nice it would have been, though, to have had someone to talk to about it all! She thought wistfully, ducking into Honeyduke’s just as a light rain began to fall. She shivered and headed towards the Sugar Quills – her favorite sweet – and had just reached for a box when she heard the tinkling of familiar laughter.
She turned slowly and glanced in the direction of the offensive noise, stiffening involuntarily when she saw the distinctive head of white-blonde hair next to the equally unique head of copper hair. Ginny was laughing at something he had said, her eyes crinkled up in the corners and her smile wide. It was an expression that made Hermione’s chest ache; Ginny was genuinely happy, and when was the last time she’d felt that way?
She really wished her old friend no ill will; they had simply fallen in love with the same man, and that was something that couldn’t be helped. Hermione turned back to her box of treats and took it to the counter to pay for it, trying to ignore the pain that was welling up inside of her. She paid for her items and ducked out of the shop as quickly as she could, hoping that she’d gone unnoticed.
When she reached home without incident, she was sure that she hadn’t been seen. She went inside her flat and closed the door, heading straight for the bedroom. She threw herself face first onto the bed and finally let loose of all of the pent-up emotion that had been building for the last several weeks. The result was only the release of some of the pressure in the form of tears, but also a terrible headache from the force of her crying.
And she didn’t really feel that much better anyway, she thought, sniffling. But she didn’t know how else to release the pressure; she didn’t have flying as an outlet like Harry did, and she didn’t know what Ginny did to feel better, but she was sure she didn’t have that, either. There was no way that she could concentrate properly on a book with the headache she had, so what was a girl to do?
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
“Mother wants us to come and have dinner with her,” Pansy said, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Neville didn’t look away from the plant that he was tending to.
“That’s nice. When?”
Pansy glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow. The tone of his voice clearly indicated that he wasn’t paying attention. “Tomorrow night.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“She wants to discuss the details of the wedding.”
“Okay.” She closed her magazine and frowned at him.
“She’s decided that she’s going to marry you instead of me.”
“All right.”
“Neville!” she shrieked, throwing the magazine onto the table in front of her. He jumped, startled by her outburst, and made a quick check of the plant to make sure that he hadn’t harmed it before he looked up at her.
“What?”
“You are not paying attention to me!”
“I am, too,” he said defensively. “You said … er… “Pansy put her hands on her hips and glared at him as his face turned scarlet. “You said something about your Mother.”
“I said that she was going to marry you instead of me, you pillock! See? You weren’t listening!”
“That’s not fair,” he said, moving away from the table. “You know that when I’m working with my plants, they require my full attention.”
“Yes, well,” she pouted. “When I’m with you, I require your full attention, too.” He closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms.
“What’s really bothering you, love? You’ve been short-tempered with everyone lately.”
“I don’t know,” she lied, burying her head in his chest. He frowned as he rested his chin on her head.
“Pansy, I can tell that you’re not telling me the truth. Is it so bad that you would want to keep it from me? Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. I promise.”
Pansy heaved a deep sigh and mumbled something into his shirt. His frown deepened.
“I can’t hear you. What did you say?” She mumbled again, louder this time. He pushed away gently and held her at arms’ length. “Tell me again.”
She glanced down at her feet once before looking back up at him. “I’m pregnant.”
Neville’s jaw dropped.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” she begged, her eyebrows knitting in worry.
“We’re going to have a – I’m going to be a –“ he swallowed hard. “Are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely positive?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” she snapped. “I saw the Mediwitch last week!”
“You’ve kept this to yourself for a whole week?” He laughed softly and pulled her closer. “Well then, it’s no wonder you’ve been so short with everyone, having to carry a secret like that around.”
“You’re not upset?” she asked incredulously.
“Why in Merlin’s name would I be upset?” he asked, puzzled. “I’m going to be a father! We’re going to be a family!”
“You –“ She paused to take a deep breath. “You mean you’re happy about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, averting her eyes. “I mean, I wanted kids eventually, but we’re not even married yet. Doesn’t that seem a bit soon to you?”
“I know we didn’t plan for it, but now that it’s going to happen, I can’t wait. Just think about it – you and I, Mum and Dad.” Pansy paled.
“I don’t know if I can be someone’s Mum,” she said, shaking her head.
“Why in the world not?”
“I’m too selfish and wrapped up in my own affairs to worry about a baby.”
“Nonsense. You wait and see – the moment the baby arrives, he or she will be the center of your universe. You’ll forget all about me.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and she sighed. She closed her eyes as she rested her cheek against his chest.
“How can you have so much faith in me, when I have none in myself?”
“I have enough faith in you for both of us, love. When the time comes, I have no doubt that you’ll be a great Mum.”
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
When Harry stormed into the flat, Hermione barely glanced up from her book. It had become the norm, whether or not she liked it, for Harry to be angry upon returning home. As a matter of fact, she realized suddenly, Harry never came home when he wasn’t angry. She adjusted the light in the room, making it slightly brighter, and went back to her book. It was unusual for her to be reading a book like this, but for some reason, a trashy romance novel seemed like the perfect choice today.
“Hermione?” Harry called from the living room.
“In the bedroom,” she called back distractedly. She smelled him before she saw him – he favored one particular brand of cologne, and she’d grown to love it not because of the smell, but because it was what he wore.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“No, I meant what are you doing home? I went by to take you out to lunch, and they said you’d owled in this morning.”
“You were going to take me out to lunch?” she asked, surprised enough to look up from the yellowed pages of her book. “Why?”
“Because I thought you might like to eat sometime today,” he returned, frowning. “Are you sick?”
“Not really,” she said, shaking her head.
“Do you have a migraine?”
“Not anymore. I took some headache relief potion that Severus sent me, and I feel much better now.” Harry grimaced. He’d never really grown accustomed to the tentative friendship that had formed between Hermione and Snape after the fall of Voldemort, and to hear her referring to him by his first name made his skin crawl.
“Are you going to go into work later?”
“Why would I do that? I’ve already got the entire day off.”
“It’s not like you to not go into work, Hermione,” he said finally, sitting at the foot of the bed near her bare feet. “Is something the matter?”
“Harry,” she sighed, putting her bookmark in between the pages she’d been reading. She set her book down on the nightstand that was nearby and looked back at him. “Nothing is the matter. I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like going in to work today. It’s not something I plan to make a habit of doing; I just felt like I had enough sick days built up that they wouldn’t miss me for a day.”
He seemed to relax a bit at this. “Have you eaten lunch already?”
“No. When I get headaches, it makes me nauseated to even think about eating.”
“But you said you took the potion,” he protested.
“I did. And I feel better.”
“So do you want to go get something to eat with me?”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Why can’t you just tell me yes or no?” he asked, frustrated. “Do you not want to eat with me?”
“Harry, don’t be ridiculous,” she chastised gently, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I just wondered where you wanted to go so I would know how to dress.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, we haven’t eaten lunch together in weeks,” she said softly, rising from the bed and turning her back to him as she moved towards the dresser. She retrieved her hairbrush off of it and began pulling it through her hair.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I was thinking something outside – it’s cool outside today, not freezing cold, and I thought it would be a nice change.”
She turned and gave him a surprised look. “It would,” she agreed, smiling.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
“I’m worried about you, dear.”
“I’m fine, Mother. I promise.”
“Are you sure? I’ve been meaning to check in on you for the past few days, and I kept getting distracted.”
“I understand, but I’m fine. Really.”
“And how is Ginevra? I haven’t seen anything in the papers lately about the two of you, but I heard from Giovanni that you brought her to the Roscioli.”
“That was last week, Mother. I’m surprised that Giovanni didn’t contact you sooner to tell you,” Draco said, his lips twisting in a wry smile. His Mother smiled brilliantly at him from the green flames of the fireplace in his bedroom.
“How did she like it?”
“I think she was more enamored of the coffee than anything else,” he said, shaking his head. Narcissa laughed softly.
“A woman after my own heart, I see. I should be home in a few days, darling. You know where to find me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother. You stay in the same place every time you visit. I know exactly how to reach you, though I can assure you, I won’t need to.”
Narcissa’s disembodied head eyed him thoughtfully, and he arched an eyebrow at her.
“What is it? I can tell you’re dying to say something.”
“I was just wondering when you’re going to ask the creature to marry you, is all,” she said nonchalantly. He blinked at her.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s perfect, you know. She’s pureblooded, she’s lovely, and I can tell that she has spirit. She’s obviously captured your attention. Has she captured your heart as well?”
Draco opened and closed his mouth several times before he found his voice. “You like her, then?”
“Absolutely. She’s the only woman you’ve brought home that has shown me the proper respect as your mother. Not to mention that she has lovely table manners as well.”
Draco smiled slightly at this.
“So you approve of her because of her table manners?”
“No, I approve of her because you like her.”
“And how can you tell that?”
“A mother can always tell these things. You didn’t really like any of the other women you brought home to meet me; you treated them poorly.”
“And I treated her differently?” he asked, interested.
“You treated her with respect.” Narcissa turned and said something to someone behind her, then turned back to her son. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to end this conversation, darling. My dinner has just been brought to me, and I’d like to eat it before it gets cold.”
“Absolutely, go enjoy your dinner. Have fun, and I’ll see you when you get back.”
“There’s no need to go to a jeweler, you know,” she said shrewdly. “There are plenty of perfectly beautiful rings in the family vault. Go and look for yourself.”
“Mother, I never said I was going to propose to her.”
“You didn’t have to. Ciao, darling!” With that, her head disappeared from the flames. Draco rose from his chair and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. His mother’s floo call had woken him from a deep sleep and vivid dreams about Ginny.
Just as he was about to climb back into bed, he heard the fireplace pop again. “What’d you forget?” he asked, without turning around.
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” came the tart reply. Draco turned to see Pansy glaring at him.
“Oh – hey, Parkinson. I thought you were someone else.”
“Obviously.”
“Wait – what in the ruddy hell are you doing flooing me at this ungodly hour of the morning?”
“Better yet, what in the ruddy hell are you doing up at this ungodly hour of the morning?” she shot back. He shook his head.
“Just tell me what you wanted.”
“Aren’t we just a ray of sunshine today?”
“Parkinson,” he said warningly. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Neville and I want you to meet us for dinner tonight.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, studying her face. She looked paler than usual, but that could have been a side effect of the green flames that were surrounding her.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she sighed impatiently. “Does something have to be wrong for us to invite you to dinner? Honestly!”
“Where should I meet you, and at what time?”
“Renaldo’s at eight thirty. And you can bring Ginny.”
Draco shot her an irritated look. “As if I needed your permission to bring my girlfriend.”
Pansy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Girlfriend?” she echoed. “That sounds serious. Are you going to propose?”
“What?” he demanded. “Where do you infernal women get me proposing out of dating her?”
“You’ve never, ever referred to a woman as your girlfriend, Draco Malfoy – or at least, not since I’ve known you.”
“I take it back, then.”
“Too late now. Does she know that you’re this serious?”
Draco threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Who in the bloody fucking hell said that I was serious? It was a slip of the tongue – one that I don’t intend to repeat!”
“Don’t get so defensive,” she said. “Personally I think it’s fantastic.”
“You do?”
“Ginny’s perfect for you. She’s got a temper, so she won’t take any of your shit when you get mad. She’s sweet enough to take care of you when you need it. And she’s apparently got the same sex drive as you.”
“And how would you know about her sex drive?”
“I don’t know about hers, but I know something about yours, and you would’ve lost interest in her in the beginning if she couldn’t keep up with you in the bedroom,” she said, shrugging. “Anyway, meet us there. I’ll see you later.”
For the second time in less than an hour, Draco was left feeling as though everyone in his life knew more about him than he did.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Ginny had just stepped out of the shower when she heard the pop in her flat signaling someone’s apparition. With her towel wrapped tightly around her, she moved into her bedroom. Draco was sitting on the edge of her bed, a smirk already plastered on his face.
“Waiting for me, were you, kitten?” Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes.
“Pleasure to see you, too.”
“It would be even more of a pleasure if I got to see all of you,” he replied coolly, his eyebrow arched. Warmth shot through her and collected in a puddle in the pit of her stomach. Her smile softened.
“Is that what you came over here for? To see all of me?”
“No, it’s a fringe benefit,” he drawled, rising from the bed and moving towards her. “I actually came to tell you that we’re going out for dinner tonight.”
“Oh?” she asked, her pulse racing as he closed the distance between them.
“Parkinson and Longbottom are meeting us there,” he murmured, his eyes on the pale flesh of her breasts that was just visible above the towel. He touched his fingertip to her collarbone, tracing it lightly through the moisture that remained from her dripping hair. She shivered.
“What should I wear?” she asked distractedly.
“You know, I find it interesting that I haven’t seen you in over eight hours, and you’re worried about what to wear for dinner.”
“You were the one who wanted a night alone, remember?” she pointed out, her eyes slipping shut. “If you suffered last night without a woman’s touch, it’s through no one’s fault but your own.”
“Why don’t you make it up to me now?” he suggested silkily.
“What time do we have to meet them?”
“What does it matter?”
“I want to know how much time we have,” she said, opening her eyes and meeting his. He gave her a wicked smile and pulled the towel down, letting it puddle around her feet.
“We have hours. Now show me how much you missed me.”
There was nowhere left to turn. In a cruel twist of fate that she’d had no control over, she had fallen in love with her best friend. Because of that simple fact, she’d been ostracized by her friends as surely as though she’d been condemned to carry some dreaded disease that had no cure.
There was nothing left to do, then, but wait. And oh, how Hermione hated waiting for anything. Why should she be punished and persecuted for falling in love? She had no more control over who she loved than she had control over the weather, so why was everyone acting as though she’d committed some cardinal, unforgivable sin?
Love was never wrong. Was it?
Lately she’d been having doubts about everything, and that was very much out of character for her. She’d begun doubting her accuracy at her job in the Ministry, and had started making stupid mistakes. She’d started to forget things easily. She’d thought at first that it was just the giddy aftermath of Harry’s divorce and his moving in with her.
Now she wondered if giddy aftermath was the right terminology for what was going on. She was positively distracted by him every second of the day. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he with someone else? Was he following her?
She understood that it was difficult for Harry to simply let go of the woman he’d taken to wife and lived with for several years, but her patience was beginning to wear thin. She missed having Harry’s absolute attention when they were together, and she missed the special smiles that he used to give her. It made her wonder who he was saving them for now.
She sighed and shook her head to try and clear her mind of the traitorous thoughts she was having, but they refused to budge. When they’d entered into this tryst, Harry had behaved as though he’d die if he wasn’t with her. Now she just wished that he would make up his mind, since he didn’t seem to know what he wanted anymore. She knew that if he stayed, things would have to change between them. She also knew that, should he choose to leave and seek happiness elsewhere, it would crush her.
Perhaps it was no more than she deserved, she thought bitterly. She’d already lost her two dearest friends as a result of her affair – Ginny for obvious reasons, and Ron, who had labeled her a traitor the moment he’d got wind of her situation. Even if she and Harry were through that very moment, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d lost Ron forever – there was no turning back now.
She had no choice but to plow ahead and pray for the best.
How nice it would have been, though, to have had someone to talk to about it all! She thought wistfully, ducking into Honeyduke’s just as a light rain began to fall. She shivered and headed towards the Sugar Quills – her favorite sweet – and had just reached for a box when she heard the tinkling of familiar laughter.
She turned slowly and glanced in the direction of the offensive noise, stiffening involuntarily when she saw the distinctive head of white-blonde hair next to the equally unique head of copper hair. Ginny was laughing at something he had said, her eyes crinkled up in the corners and her smile wide. It was an expression that made Hermione’s chest ache; Ginny was genuinely happy, and when was the last time she’d felt that way?
She really wished her old friend no ill will; they had simply fallen in love with the same man, and that was something that couldn’t be helped. Hermione turned back to her box of treats and took it to the counter to pay for it, trying to ignore the pain that was welling up inside of her. She paid for her items and ducked out of the shop as quickly as she could, hoping that she’d gone unnoticed.
When she reached home without incident, she was sure that she hadn’t been seen. She went inside her flat and closed the door, heading straight for the bedroom. She threw herself face first onto the bed and finally let loose of all of the pent-up emotion that had been building for the last several weeks. The result was only the release of some of the pressure in the form of tears, but also a terrible headache from the force of her crying.
And she didn’t really feel that much better anyway, she thought, sniffling. But she didn’t know how else to release the pressure; she didn’t have flying as an outlet like Harry did, and she didn’t know what Ginny did to feel better, but she was sure she didn’t have that, either. There was no way that she could concentrate properly on a book with the headache she had, so what was a girl to do?
“Mother wants us to come and have dinner with her,” Pansy said, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Neville didn’t look away from the plant that he was tending to.
“That’s nice. When?”
Pansy glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow. The tone of his voice clearly indicated that he wasn’t paying attention. “Tomorrow night.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“She wants to discuss the details of the wedding.”
“Okay.” She closed her magazine and frowned at him.
“She’s decided that she’s going to marry you instead of me.”
“All right.”
“Neville!” she shrieked, throwing the magazine onto the table in front of her. He jumped, startled by her outburst, and made a quick check of the plant to make sure that he hadn’t harmed it before he looked up at her.
“What?”
“You are not paying attention to me!”
“I am, too,” he said defensively. “You said … er… “Pansy put her hands on her hips and glared at him as his face turned scarlet. “You said something about your Mother.”
“I said that she was going to marry you instead of me, you pillock! See? You weren’t listening!”
“That’s not fair,” he said, moving away from the table. “You know that when I’m working with my plants, they require my full attention.”
“Yes, well,” she pouted. “When I’m with you, I require your full attention, too.” He closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms.
“What’s really bothering you, love? You’ve been short-tempered with everyone lately.”
“I don’t know,” she lied, burying her head in his chest. He frowned as he rested his chin on her head.
“Pansy, I can tell that you’re not telling me the truth. Is it so bad that you would want to keep it from me? Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. I promise.”
Pansy heaved a deep sigh and mumbled something into his shirt. His frown deepened.
“I can’t hear you. What did you say?” She mumbled again, louder this time. He pushed away gently and held her at arms’ length. “Tell me again.”
She glanced down at her feet once before looking back up at him. “I’m pregnant.”
Neville’s jaw dropped.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” she begged, her eyebrows knitting in worry.
“We’re going to have a – I’m going to be a –“ he swallowed hard. “Are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely positive?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” she snapped. “I saw the Mediwitch last week!”
“You’ve kept this to yourself for a whole week?” He laughed softly and pulled her closer. “Well then, it’s no wonder you’ve been so short with everyone, having to carry a secret like that around.”
“You’re not upset?” she asked incredulously.
“Why in Merlin’s name would I be upset?” he asked, puzzled. “I’m going to be a father! We’re going to be a family!”
“You –“ She paused to take a deep breath. “You mean you’re happy about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, averting her eyes. “I mean, I wanted kids eventually, but we’re not even married yet. Doesn’t that seem a bit soon to you?”
“I know we didn’t plan for it, but now that it’s going to happen, I can’t wait. Just think about it – you and I, Mum and Dad.” Pansy paled.
“I don’t know if I can be someone’s Mum,” she said, shaking her head.
“Why in the world not?”
“I’m too selfish and wrapped up in my own affairs to worry about a baby.”
“Nonsense. You wait and see – the moment the baby arrives, he or she will be the center of your universe. You’ll forget all about me.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and she sighed. She closed her eyes as she rested her cheek against his chest.
“How can you have so much faith in me, when I have none in myself?”
“I have enough faith in you for both of us, love. When the time comes, I have no doubt that you’ll be a great Mum.”
When Harry stormed into the flat, Hermione barely glanced up from her book. It had become the norm, whether or not she liked it, for Harry to be angry upon returning home. As a matter of fact, she realized suddenly, Harry never came home when he wasn’t angry. She adjusted the light in the room, making it slightly brighter, and went back to her book. It was unusual for her to be reading a book like this, but for some reason, a trashy romance novel seemed like the perfect choice today.
“Hermione?” Harry called from the living room.
“In the bedroom,” she called back distractedly. She smelled him before she saw him – he favored one particular brand of cologne, and she’d grown to love it not because of the smell, but because it was what he wore.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“No, I meant what are you doing home? I went by to take you out to lunch, and they said you’d owled in this morning.”
“You were going to take me out to lunch?” she asked, surprised enough to look up from the yellowed pages of her book. “Why?”
“Because I thought you might like to eat sometime today,” he returned, frowning. “Are you sick?”
“Not really,” she said, shaking her head.
“Do you have a migraine?”
“Not anymore. I took some headache relief potion that Severus sent me, and I feel much better now.” Harry grimaced. He’d never really grown accustomed to the tentative friendship that had formed between Hermione and Snape after the fall of Voldemort, and to hear her referring to him by his first name made his skin crawl.
“Are you going to go into work later?”
“Why would I do that? I’ve already got the entire day off.”
“It’s not like you to not go into work, Hermione,” he said finally, sitting at the foot of the bed near her bare feet. “Is something the matter?”
“Harry,” she sighed, putting her bookmark in between the pages she’d been reading. She set her book down on the nightstand that was nearby and looked back at him. “Nothing is the matter. I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like going in to work today. It’s not something I plan to make a habit of doing; I just felt like I had enough sick days built up that they wouldn’t miss me for a day.”
He seemed to relax a bit at this. “Have you eaten lunch already?”
“No. When I get headaches, it makes me nauseated to even think about eating.”
“But you said you took the potion,” he protested.
“I did. And I feel better.”
“So do you want to go get something to eat with me?”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Why can’t you just tell me yes or no?” he asked, frustrated. “Do you not want to eat with me?”
“Harry, don’t be ridiculous,” she chastised gently, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I just wondered where you wanted to go so I would know how to dress.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, we haven’t eaten lunch together in weeks,” she said softly, rising from the bed and turning her back to him as she moved towards the dresser. She retrieved her hairbrush off of it and began pulling it through her hair.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I was thinking something outside – it’s cool outside today, not freezing cold, and I thought it would be a nice change.”
She turned and gave him a surprised look. “It would,” she agreed, smiling.
“I’m worried about you, dear.”
“I’m fine, Mother. I promise.”
“Are you sure? I’ve been meaning to check in on you for the past few days, and I kept getting distracted.”
“I understand, but I’m fine. Really.”
“And how is Ginevra? I haven’t seen anything in the papers lately about the two of you, but I heard from Giovanni that you brought her to the Roscioli.”
“That was last week, Mother. I’m surprised that Giovanni didn’t contact you sooner to tell you,” Draco said, his lips twisting in a wry smile. His Mother smiled brilliantly at him from the green flames of the fireplace in his bedroom.
“How did she like it?”
“I think she was more enamored of the coffee than anything else,” he said, shaking his head. Narcissa laughed softly.
“A woman after my own heart, I see. I should be home in a few days, darling. You know where to find me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother. You stay in the same place every time you visit. I know exactly how to reach you, though I can assure you, I won’t need to.”
Narcissa’s disembodied head eyed him thoughtfully, and he arched an eyebrow at her.
“What is it? I can tell you’re dying to say something.”
“I was just wondering when you’re going to ask the creature to marry you, is all,” she said nonchalantly. He blinked at her.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s perfect, you know. She’s pureblooded, she’s lovely, and I can tell that she has spirit. She’s obviously captured your attention. Has she captured your heart as well?”
Draco opened and closed his mouth several times before he found his voice. “You like her, then?”
“Absolutely. She’s the only woman you’ve brought home that has shown me the proper respect as your mother. Not to mention that she has lovely table manners as well.”
Draco smiled slightly at this.
“So you approve of her because of her table manners?”
“No, I approve of her because you like her.”
“And how can you tell that?”
“A mother can always tell these things. You didn’t really like any of the other women you brought home to meet me; you treated them poorly.”
“And I treated her differently?” he asked, interested.
“You treated her with respect.” Narcissa turned and said something to someone behind her, then turned back to her son. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to end this conversation, darling. My dinner has just been brought to me, and I’d like to eat it before it gets cold.”
“Absolutely, go enjoy your dinner. Have fun, and I’ll see you when you get back.”
“There’s no need to go to a jeweler, you know,” she said shrewdly. “There are plenty of perfectly beautiful rings in the family vault. Go and look for yourself.”
“Mother, I never said I was going to propose to her.”
“You didn’t have to. Ciao, darling!” With that, her head disappeared from the flames. Draco rose from his chair and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. His mother’s floo call had woken him from a deep sleep and vivid dreams about Ginny.
Just as he was about to climb back into bed, he heard the fireplace pop again. “What’d you forget?” he asked, without turning around.
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” came the tart reply. Draco turned to see Pansy glaring at him.
“Oh – hey, Parkinson. I thought you were someone else.”
“Obviously.”
“Wait – what in the ruddy hell are you doing flooing me at this ungodly hour of the morning?”
“Better yet, what in the ruddy hell are you doing up at this ungodly hour of the morning?” she shot back. He shook his head.
“Just tell me what you wanted.”
“Aren’t we just a ray of sunshine today?”
“Parkinson,” he said warningly. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Neville and I want you to meet us for dinner tonight.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, studying her face. She looked paler than usual, but that could have been a side effect of the green flames that were surrounding her.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she sighed impatiently. “Does something have to be wrong for us to invite you to dinner? Honestly!”
“Where should I meet you, and at what time?”
“Renaldo’s at eight thirty. And you can bring Ginny.”
Draco shot her an irritated look. “As if I needed your permission to bring my girlfriend.”
Pansy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Girlfriend?” she echoed. “That sounds serious. Are you going to propose?”
“What?” he demanded. “Where do you infernal women get me proposing out of dating her?”
“You’ve never, ever referred to a woman as your girlfriend, Draco Malfoy – or at least, not since I’ve known you.”
“I take it back, then.”
“Too late now. Does she know that you’re this serious?”
Draco threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Who in the bloody fucking hell said that I was serious? It was a slip of the tongue – one that I don’t intend to repeat!”
“Don’t get so defensive,” she said. “Personally I think it’s fantastic.”
“You do?”
“Ginny’s perfect for you. She’s got a temper, so she won’t take any of your shit when you get mad. She’s sweet enough to take care of you when you need it. And she’s apparently got the same sex drive as you.”
“And how would you know about her sex drive?”
“I don’t know about hers, but I know something about yours, and you would’ve lost interest in her in the beginning if she couldn’t keep up with you in the bedroom,” she said, shrugging. “Anyway, meet us there. I’ll see you later.”
For the second time in less than an hour, Draco was left feeling as though everyone in his life knew more about him than he did.
Ginny had just stepped out of the shower when she heard the pop in her flat signaling someone’s apparition. With her towel wrapped tightly around her, she moved into her bedroom. Draco was sitting on the edge of her bed, a smirk already plastered on his face.
“Waiting for me, were you, kitten?” Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes.
“Pleasure to see you, too.”
“It would be even more of a pleasure if I got to see all of you,” he replied coolly, his eyebrow arched. Warmth shot through her and collected in a puddle in the pit of her stomach. Her smile softened.
“Is that what you came over here for? To see all of me?”
“No, it’s a fringe benefit,” he drawled, rising from the bed and moving towards her. “I actually came to tell you that we’re going out for dinner tonight.”
“Oh?” she asked, her pulse racing as he closed the distance between them.
“Parkinson and Longbottom are meeting us there,” he murmured, his eyes on the pale flesh of her breasts that was just visible above the towel. He touched his fingertip to her collarbone, tracing it lightly through the moisture that remained from her dripping hair. She shivered.
“What should I wear?” she asked distractedly.
“You know, I find it interesting that I haven’t seen you in over eight hours, and you’re worried about what to wear for dinner.”
“You were the one who wanted a night alone, remember?” she pointed out, her eyes slipping shut. “If you suffered last night without a woman’s touch, it’s through no one’s fault but your own.”
“Why don’t you make it up to me now?” he suggested silkily.
“What time do we have to meet them?”
“What does it matter?”
“I want to know how much time we have,” she said, opening her eyes and meeting his. He gave her a wicked smile and pulled the towel down, letting it puddle around her feet.
“We have hours. Now show me how much you missed me.”
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