Is it safe?
Draco’s brow furrowed in consternation as he looked between Hermione and the contraption beside them. He didn’t want to back down after needling her for months about flying. She’d agreed to private lessons–with him as the only acceptable tutor, of course–as long as he indulged a single request.
Easy, right?
It should have been a no-brainer, multiple lessons without an end in sight for one, measly little activity. Then Hermione had to go and bring that into the picture.
“Is it…safe?”
He didn’t want to get any closer, but a larger part of him wanted to step in front of his girlfriend and what was obviously an instrument of death. He’d seen Muggle cars before, certainly, but not this up close and never, ever in his entire existence had he ever imagined that he’d be asked to get inside of one.
“Please. Do you really think I’d ask you to risk your life, Malfoy?” she scoffed. She had the gall to stroke the car like he’d hurt its feelings.
Then he cocked his head and looked the entire thing over from end to end. Did it have feelings? Was it alive?
“Whatever you’re thinking, I assure you that you’re probably mistaken,” she continued, the beginnings of a smirk playing at her lips.
“Let’s make a couple of things clear. First, yes, I think you would risk my life after you accused me of doing the same to you every single time I took you up on my broom–stop! That wasn’t a euphemism!” He scowled at her peals of laughter, even as they warmed his chest. “Second, this wouldn’t be the only time I’ve encountered a sentient carriage. Now what?”
She bent over double, hands against each knee as she gasped for breath in between her laughter. “It’s just–oh, good gods–who even says ‘carriage’ in this day in age? What era are you even from, Lord Malfoy?”
He suffered her amusement for the span of two more breaths before he reached for the closest handle and tugged.
“Wait, not there,” she caught the door before it could fully open and pressed it shut.
“What do you mean not ‘there’?” he asked. “You’re not actually suggesting that I control this thing, are you?”
Horrifying images of the metal beast careening out of control into onlookers crowded his mind, and it was with all his willpower that he stayed in place rather than retreat.
“Well, that is the backseat, and you only sit there if the front is already occupied or you’re paying for transport. Being as neither is true, since I’ll be the one driving us, you should sit in the front next to me.” She gestured toward the adjacent door, then stepped back to give him room.
Draco had to admit that whatever Muggle had concocted this insanity, they at least knew how to make seats. The caramel leather was ridiculously comfortable, and he had ample room to stretch his legs–no easy feat, given his considerable height. He looked around with increasing curiosity that now outweighed his earlier caution.
The panel in front of him had all sorts of knobs and buttons that he knew better than to meddle with. There was a pommel-like bar between the seats, and the large ring in the driver’s seat was obviously meant as some sort of handle. Grooves lined the leather just wide enough for fingers to rest in between.
The moment she slid in next to him, Draco feigned disinterest, looking out the front glass like he couldn’t care less about his surroundings. To his immense displeasure, he could see people walking down the sidewalk and stepping into their own vehicles. Why were there so many strangers? Didn’t they have better things to do than bear witness to his probable death? He could see it now: “Unidentified Man Perishes in Flames; Bushy-haired Suspect Still at Large.”
“--as soon as you buckle up.”
In his musing, he’d missed what she said. “Sorry, what?”
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. “I said, we’ll get going as soon as you buckle up.” She gestured at the strap across her own chest.
Draco perked up at the sight. Safety measures! Excellent. The strap was rudimentary compared to the Stabilising Charms in children’s brooms, but at least it proved the Muggles weren’t completely barmy. He located his own harness, but immediately hit a snag.
“How do I…” He tugged harder, hitting the same stopping point that prevented the strap from reaching across his chest. Was this made for children? Why was it so short?
“Oh, here, allow me.”
He put his hands up in surrender and let her take charge. As she leaned over, having undone her own belt, a sneaky hand slid across his chest and tweaked a nipple in passing.
“Granger.”
She merely winked at his warning. The little brat. If they survived this, Draco was going to pay her back 10x over.
“The trick is to pull gently. Slow and steady. You don’t have a problem with that, right?” Another suggestive grin, and then the audible click of his strap settling into place. She’d quoted almost word for word the exact same thing he’d said to her in their first flying lesson.
She stayed close, nose to nose, toffee-coloured eyes searching him for…what?
“This means more to me than you know, Draco,” she said quietly.
He could see nothing but her. Tawny eyes fixed on him, the freckles he’d kissed countless times marching across her upturned nose and cheeks, dainty ears wearing the gold and ruby earrings he’d gifted her on her birthday, and her hair, her glorious hair. There was no room for anything else, riotous spirals of golden brown spilling across her shoulders and reaching for him like a living thing. The soft ends tickled the sensitive skin along his neck, but rather than pull away, he only wanted to bring her closer, to sink his hands against the dense mass at the base of her neck, to pull her into him and snog her breathless. Maybe if he did that, then they wouldn’t drive anywhere and he could convince her to return to her flat and into bed.
He’d endeavoured to do just that, palm already cupping her cheek and preparing to press further, when she moved past his questing lips to whisper into his ear with all the sneaky planning of a witch in full control. “Be good, and you’ll thank me later.”
Her hand trailed down to squeeze, to which he let out a groan of defeat.
“The things I do for love.”
Her smile was blinding as she pulled away, the light of it filling the space more effectively than a Lumos or any amount of daylight ever could. He’d follow her anywhere as long as she always looked at him like that, metal carriages and all.