Chapter 25
DRACO’S POV:
Draco turned the page of the book he was reading (Imbuing Potions With New Age Ingredients by Rosana Amorim). His company had come into possession of an uncommon strain of Graphorn that had been crossbred with a Bicorn and they were trying to determine if the horns would be more beneficial used in Antidote to Uncommon Poisons or in Pepperup Potion. He’d been going cross-eyed trying to find the right theory for replacing known ingredients with new ones, especially since the potions were so finicky and the ingredients were so volatile when added incorrectly. They would need to work through numerous trials to find a good proportion of ingredient to potion output but so far all the potioneers had managed was a couple of blown up cauldrons and a wizard in the medical ward with seemingly permanent grey scales on his forearms where he’d come in contact with the explosion. Draco was hoping that at least one of the books in his family's library would have a way to safely test combinations on a smaller scale to limit such accidents from happening again. He looked up and frowned slightly as his mother entered the room.
“Mother. I thought you and Granger were still planning?”
“We are, she’s using the powder room. I wanted to speak with you before she came back.” His mother told him as she crossed her arms and looked at him, pointedly eyeing the open book on his lap. He sighed agitatedly at being interrupted but put his bookmark in and closed the volume anyway. Narcissa nodded to her son, thanking him silently for his full attention.
“Hermione and I were speaking just now, about some of her concerns going into your marriage, and I wish to make you aware of them so that you may discuss it with her before you are required to say your vows.” He cocked his head to the side slightly and drew his eyebrows together. Why would Granger be speaking to my Mother about what our married life will be like? He wondered. “She has assured me that the two of you are becoming more cordial to one another and that going forward she will be doing her part to make this a happy home. I have requested that the two of you make this partnership work, and Hermione will do her part so long as you do yours. I’m telling you to treat her with respect and as an equal. It will go much further than fear mongering or indifference.”
“Shouldn’t her parents be threatening me with this, and not mine?” He grumbled.
“She has no parents, Draco. But either way, the point stands that the two of you will be sharing a life for a long time; a home, a bed, and children. She is worried that given your history things will be awkward and take longer than the allotted time you’ve been given to acclimate to one another. And I am inclined to agree. I know we’ve already discussed what is expected of you to try and make this work, but I must impress upon you the importance of trust and respect in a relationship as advantageous as this.”
“What do you mean?”
“For starters, you should be using Hermione’s first name. ‘Granger’ will no longer be applicable come next week and it will never do to have the press hear you speak to her like that. We may be a powerful family but we are not immune to poor publicity. We have had too much of it recently, and I will not allow it to continue once you have married her.”
“No, I meant what did you mean when you said Grang- Hermione ,” he grit his teeth, “has no family?”
“You didn’t know? It is not my story to tell, but it is certainly something you should have been aware of by now. You didn’t think it peculiar that her mother has had nothing to do with the wedding planning? Or that we haven’t met her parents, even though you'll be the father of their grandchildren within the next year or so?” Come to think of it, no . But he hasn't exactly been paying attention either. Sure it was a bit weird that he hadn’t met them at the cake tasting or the dress fitting or whatever, but he hadn’t really been consciously thinking about it. He’d been trying to ignore anything to do with the wedding as much as possible. “This is what I am talking about, my dragon. How do you expect to live together successfully if you have no lines of communication? You will be marrying this woman in a week, but do you know anything about her? I know that the courting period has been unusually short, given that your father and I were not the ones to choose your bride, but you need to be trying harder to understand one another and become better acquainted. What’s her ambition in life? Her favourite food? What does she do in her spare time? There are a lot of little things that can make a partnership work successfully, but she can only take your relationship so far on her own. You must meet her at least halfway. Though, given that we need her reputation more than she needs ours, I would suggest you try even harder than that.”
“Where is all of this coming from?” He asked, astonished that his mother would be encouraging him to be the proverbial better person in his relationship with Granger.
“She asked me about my courtship with your father. She is worried about the ceremony and your first kiss. I have done my best to assuage those fears but speaking with you will help to ease her even more.”
“Our first kiss?”
“Yes, she overheard one of her schoolmates discussing the disaster that occurred at their own wedding and doesn’t wish to look foolish in front of all of our guests.”
“Why would she look foolish? It’s just a kiss.”
“My dragon, there is a lot more to it than just a kiss. We will be done planning for the day in about an hour. I implore you to speak with her before she floos home for the night when we’re done.” Draco shrugged and nodded to his mother before she nodded back and turned to leave the room. What is so worrisome about one little kiss?
HERMIONE’S POV:
“I think we’re done for the day. I’ll see you again on Monday, Hermione.” Narcissa addressed the younger girl with a tone of exasperation. They were discussing guests that Mione should avoid at the wedding and it had spiralled into an argument about the guest list again. Why should I have to avoid anyone at my own wedding? Hermione thought. Surely if you were getting married you should be able to feel happy and safe the day of. Not have to worry about some pure-blooded bigots or elitist bullshit about her social class marrying ‘up in the world’ (as though she was tying the knot with Malf- Draco purely to gain social standing and money and not because she was required to). She bid Narcissa goodnight before heading to the parlour to floo back to Harry’s. It had been a tiring evening and all she wanted was some noodles and a cheesy rom-com. She’d rented Mansfield Park from the local library and hadn’t had a chance to watch it yet. Luckily, Harry was spending the night with George and his other groomsmen for the older Weasley’s stag party so tonight was all about relaxing.
“Granger,” she jumped and looked around slightly before her eyes landed on Mal- Draco sitting in one of the chairs with a book resting on the side table next to him.
“You startled me.” She said, clutching her chest softly to try and stop her heart from racing through her chest.
“Sorry. Mother said you wished to speak with me, so I wanted to catch you before you left.” He told her nonchalantly. She went a little rigid, worried about what his mother might have said to him.
“Uhm. Yes. I was... that is to say- I heard, well overheard, Cho talking to some friends at the wedding last night. Well, it wasn’t her wedding, it was Luna and Nevilles, but she was there, and she was discussing her wedding, erm, Cho’s wedding-” She was twisting her fingers together trying to string a coherent thought. She wasn’t good at discussing this kind of thing. Especially with the man it pertained to. Talking about kissing and sex with Ginny was one thing (the girl had the libido of a teenage boy so it was constantly a subject that came up) but she was incredibly uncomfortable trying to bring it up with Mal- Draco.
“Slow down, Granger.” He chuckled, apparently amused at her floundering in front of him. “Mother said you were scared about the wedding ceremony? What about it has you worried?” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
“Draco, would you like to kiss me?” She finally blurted out. He froze, as though his brain had short-circuited at the idea. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I meant to say, could we kiss? Not necessarily right now, but sometime before the wedding? I overheard Cho talking about how awkward her first kiss with Montague was, at the altar, and I really don’t want our first kiss to be public. I feel like it would be a disaster.” She stared at him as he sat, unmoving. Shifting her weight on her feet, Hermione wondered if maybe he’d had a stroke or something. It was unnatural how still he was. “Uhm, look if you don’t want to kiss me I completely understand, I just thought it’d be better to have it be private before we have to kiss in front of hundreds of people.”
“Did you just call me Draco?” He finally spoke. Seriously, that’s what got his knickers in a twist? That I used his first name? Hermione thought to herself incredulously.
“Yes... Your Mother thought it would be best if we started to address one another by our actual names.”
“And you want us to kiss because you’re worried about it being awkward at the wedding?” He asked with his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “How can a kiss be awkward? It’s just a kiss.”
“Well, there’s a lot more to it than that.” She huffed, crossing her arms defensively.
“Like what? My lips meet your lips. That’s all.”
“Ok, but do I turn my head? Do you turn yours? Should I be wearing a specific kind of lipstick or chapstick, are you allergic to anything like that? Are you gonna kiss me for a second and pull away or will it be a few moments for a picture or something? Luna and Neville kissed for like a minute while they had the cameras going off. I obviously don’t expect that much, but I want to know what to expect.”
“Why are you thinking so hard about this?”
“Because nothing about our engagement or relationship is traditional and I don’t like to not know things. In a normal romantic relationship, we’d already know all the little nuances like how to kiss and such. But we don’t and I’m worried we’ll make fools of ourselves next week by hitting our foreheads together, or you poking my eye with your nose because we move the wrong way. Or having you stick your tongue down my throat in full view of our friends and family. There are a lot of-” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before he was standing up and in her face.
“You’re worried that you and I won’t know how to properly kiss?” He said, looking down his nose at her with that trademark smirk on his face. She huffed, annoyed that he seemed to be mocking her for her fears. She let her head fall back as she looked up into his eyes. Mirth danced in his mercurial blues as he regarded her, searching her face to gauge her seriousness on the matter. Her breath caught as his hands came up to cup her cheeks softly.
“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, her brain not quite catching up to the situation as he leaned towards her.
“What you asked me to do.” He replied as his lips finally came in contact with hers. Her eyes widened a fraction in shock before fluttering shut. She wouldn’t call herself an expert at kissing, she’d only had a handful of boyfriends in the past; Ron, Viktor Krum, and a muggle neighbour named Christopher. But this? This was heavenly. She brought her hands up and around his neck tentatively as they kissed. His cologne gently tickled her nose, hints of citrus and mint that melted perfectly with undertones of clove. His lips were much softer than she thought they’d be, uncracked and smooth. It felt like kissing a cloud. Or her favourite pillow. His hands were soft as well, not callused like Viktor and Ron’s hands had been. Since he played Quidditch she’d been expecting otherwise, but instead, they were smooth and gentle. His tongue glided slowly over her lower lip, not trying to explore any further, but tasting her nonetheless.
She pulled away regretfully, no longer able to resist the pull of breathing. Her chest heaved slightly as she willed her heavy eyelids to open and look back up at him. His pupils were dilated and she noticed that while he hid it better than she was, he too was out of breath. Wow . She thought to herself. Blood slowly rose to her cheeks as she realised she was still hanging around his neck and she moved her hands away, resisting the urge to rest them on his thinly muscled shoulders.
“Still worried?” He asked quietly, his breath coming in soft puffs.
“No,” she answered him. If kissing him was that good, dear god what would he do to her in bed?