"who's the woman in your head?" draco seethed his teeth at hermione in fury, how could she not understand the predicament he had been sent into? not only could he not stand out in the streets of diagon alley without a rally of reporters, but nor cou...
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C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - S E V E N;
Hermione was certain that this time she wouldn't find a dress. According to Malfoy matching outfits was key, but not identical. What was he playing at?
Last minute shopping was indeed not ideal, however, with stress filling her head Hermione hastily grabbed the designed of the bunch and bought it. All it meant was she was going to get her wand and her brain a bit of a workout.
Spreading the dress across her bed, Hermione clicked her tongue to recall the prominent features of Draco's suit. "One of a kind, made with the finest Italian silk. Hermione, it doesn't have to be as impressive but something with red and white embellishments will do just fine."
Rolling her eyes at the memory she pictured Draco holding the suit with pride written all over his face.
Waving her wand, with the utmost precision and care that dress suddenly glimmered red, the silk falling all the way down to the bottom of the dress. A second later white sequin embellished the belt-waist area. Hermione smiled widely.
It wasn't a dress that belonged in a fashion show, but at least it would do her some good for one night. Hanging up the dress Hermione stood outside of her tiny seaside cottage. How nice the saltwater smelled.
It had been ages since she'd felt so free. Scanning the gorgeous scenery. However, a lone figure standing almost 90 metres from her house caught her completely offguard. A small, hardly noticeable gasp escaped from her lips.
This hardly noticeable gasp, despite Hermione's wishes, made the figure turn. The person wore a long, dark draping cape, his face hidden from sight.
It was until they pulled off the hood that Hermione was greeted to see Malfoy. Hermione was somewhat relieved to know it was in fact Malfoy.
However, a nagging thought pulled onto Hermione.
Why was he always hear her?
Why was he not leaving her alone?
Why was he acting so strangely?
In her Hogwarts years, Hermione often figured the Malfoy was odd. That the guy had a strange, mysterious and odd aura circling him 24/7. Her suspicions were only becoming reality. No matter how stupid or childish it seemed, she was sure Draco was up to something. These past two occurrences seemed to be far too convenient and well-planned on Draco's behalf.
The only thing that Hermione Granger really needed right now was for Malfoy to just leave her alone for a second.
Oh, how things would be different if she didn't offer her time to supervise and council Malfoy weeks and weeks ago. She wouldn't be here with him watching him stare at her, she wouldn't be attending the Gala with him.
Both Hermione and Draco had been standing in the warm sunlight for about ten minutes. Both adults ceased to flinch or even make a move in order to approach each other. The couple just stared at each other. A far distance apart.
It seemed rather safe, Hermione was glad at least that the man hadn't burst through her pantry cupboard in which she had stuffed him into the last time he was here. The air was calm, the slightest breeze was present, just cold enough to tickle Granger's bare feet.
What ever would happen tonight would stay tonight. Hermione only wondered if Draco Malfoy was thinking the same thing.
