antidote ✞ dramione

part twelve

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when hermione returned to flat she knocked the door—because she gave her only set of keys to draco and she usually keeps her floo connection off—and she found that apparating in while draco was doing something special for the both of them incredibly rude.

so, she knocked. and waited. and then draco opened the door in the clothes he wore earlier minus a blazer and tie. he lent his shoulder against the doorjamb and smirked at her.

"how'd it go?" he asked, tossing an apple slice into his mouth.

hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "if you let me into my own home then maybe i'll tell you."

draco acted as if he was contemplating it before nodding, stepping away from the door. once she was through he closed it and took her cloak off of her, throwing it onto the coat rack.

"what've you got planned then?" hermione asked slyly as she smelt the delicious food. she tried to follow the scent into the kitchen but draco stopped her, leading her to the settee instead.

"it's not ready yet," draco said as nala crawled onto hermione's lap. "give me five minutes."

"i'm hungry," hermione groaned, stroking nala's fur. "i haven't ate in ages."

draco rolled his eyes. "oh, please, stop being so dramatic. it only works on me. you just look desperate."

hermione's jaw dropped at his insult. "well, fuck you too."

"only if you want me to," draco purred teasingly, winking. hermione still wasn't used to his confidence with innuendos and it rendered her speechless as he left for the kitchen once again.

hermione picked up nala and held her in front of her face. "he's such a knobhead, don't you think?"

"i can hear you, you know?"

hermione giggled slightly, hugging nala to her body. "that was the point, knobhead!"

"okay, no food for you then," draco huffed childishly, making hermione laugh harder. "i mean it!"

"you say that about a lot of things!"

"i guess the roast is all for me then," draco whispered into her ear making hermione almost throw nala half way across the room. how the fuck did he get there so fast? it was literally some sneaky spy shit!

"you made roast?" hermione gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. now, if there was one meal hermione loved above anything else, it was roast chicken and veg. "oh my lord, can i marry you?"

"let's not get too hasty now," draco chuckled, holding out his hand, hermione took it and she let him pull her up, leading her into the small kitchen. "at least taste the food."

hermione couldn't help but to gap at the set up like a goldfish. there weren't any candles or dimmed lighting—it wasn't exactly the romantic type of romance, but there was light music playing in the background and the food all somehow fit perfectly on the small dinner table that was covered in a black, satin-like cloth. one look at the wine bottle and she knew it wasn't the cheap ones she bought from the nearest tesco—merlin, he must have his own cellar or some shit because it looked well old.

"okay, we're fucking getting married," hermione breathed out finally, letting draco help her into a chair. "and you're always cooking."

"i thought you was a brilliant cook?" draco teased, settling opposite her. "i mean, i was prepared to be a sore loser, as you put it this morning."