Dramione One Shots

23. Starlust

Art/fic collab w dara_art (you can find her on IG, Twitter & Patreon!)

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Hermione had waited for hours to take her clothes off.

She smelled like saltwater and sunscreen. Beneath the straps of her bathing suit, her skin was a shade lighter. The bridge of her nose was red and freckled, and her irises had brightened into a cinnamon-gold after hours under the furious Palm Cove sun.

Eventually, darkness fell over their little strip of paradise. The Weird Sisters: Greatest Hits was cut-off mid-track, replaced by creaking footsteps as guests flitted from room to room in the two-storey villa. Running water guzzled through pipes as teeth were brushed, toilets flushed, everlasting icy water glasses replenished. The muffled tropical sounds from the outdoors hummed like white noise beyond the sealed windows, keeping the cool air conditioning locked in. Goodnights were murmured in dark hallways. Bedroom doors clicked shut for the evening. And Hermione was free to slip into a bathrobe and tread into the star-kissed night.

"What are you doing?"

She froze, holding her arm up against the harsh glare of a blue-white Lumos Spell.

They had only been reunited this morning, but she would recognise Draco's voice anywhere. It had deepened since they last spoke, the acerbic misery of seventeen evolving into something more coquettish and less scarred. But, inevitably, Draco all the same.

"Way to sneak up on people," she snapped, heart thundering, annoyed he'd scared her.

"I was already here." He tipped his wand away from her face, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. His irises were like glass, absorbing the Lumos to become brighter. Silvery, almost.

She crossed her arms, remembering her state of undress, and nuzzled her hot cheek against her neckline, half hiding. "Doing what?"

"Stargazing," he said, dimming the spell so it wasn't so stark. A brown-winged moth fluttered delightfully into the triangle of light.

Hermione couldn't tell if Malfoy was pulling her leg.

"Really?"

"Everyone went to bed tediously early."

"Not much all-nightering when the bride-to-be is five months pregnant," she acceded.

"My, don't you have a way with words? All-nightering." His eyes darted down her figure, then made their way back up, slowly. "Never mind what I'm doing. What's this?"

A few hours ago, the pavement was too hot to walk on. Now, the stones were cool against the soles of her feet as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"I was going to shower."

"Shower?"

"There's an outdoor shower around the corner and it's warm and everyone's gone to bed. Or I assumed. Thought I would take advantage of it. Shower beneath the stars. Get my hair a little wet." She twirled a crispy saltwater curl around her finger and rambled.

So far, Hermione had done her very best to avoid embarrassing herself in front of Draco. All day, the searing hot feeling of his gaze kept creeping under her skin, and she felt like she had to be on her best behaviour whenever he was nearby.

Draco took a generous swig of his beer, watching her over the rim. His cool grey eyes scanned her itty-bitty bathrobe up and down, as if he could see through it.

"Don't let me stop you, Granger."

"Not at all." Her tone dripped with sarcasm. An easy defence mechanism when she wished for a Time-Turner to do over the last five minutes. "In fact, why don't you join me?"