Sour Grapes

Chapter 18 - Torture

Draco awoke the next day feeling happier than he had in years.

It had all started when he'd sent that rather risky note, forgoing formalities and being directly taunting. Sending it had made his hands sweaty. He had mentioned her clever tongue, and he'd not just been referring to her way with words. He had revealed his plan to have her current least-favorite drink under his nose all evening in service of torturing her. It had had a familiar flavor of his schoolyard taunts, yet with a loving caress. His words and actions might be similar, yet his intentions were to tease and make it difficult for her to keep her focus on anyone else.

He had almost stopped to confer with Harry before sending it, but after the disastrous events of Wednesday evening, he'd decided that perhaps he should rely on his own instinct for a while. Harry and Blaise were certainly helping, but having their constant input was making his actions (or inactions, as it were) feel too manufactured. Something was telling him that it wasn't going to work out that way, and so he had sent the slightly bolder letter and then waited patiently, hoping she would respond.

She had kept him waiting for a while. Well over an hour had passed and he'd been sure he had overstepped his boundaries, until...

—

Draco,

Wow, I am honoured.

I hate to break it to you, though, we will not be going to a muggle pub tomorrow evening. Sorry, no tequila for wizards. You'll have to think of some other way to torture me, but I have faith in you.

Hermione

—

He had no idea what had happened to shift her attitude towards him, but their communication had moved rapidly from stoic and professional to playful and familiar.

Perhaps it was the veil of letter writing that had allowed both of their guards to come down, but the remainder of the evening was spent furiously writing back and forth.

They had created some unspoken agreement not to mention their row, his impending wedding, or the marriage promise at all. She had previously expressed fear around them spending time together, but this was different. Letters were safe.

He had thought more than once about suggesting they get together in person rather than exhausting his owl. However, he worried that seeing him in the flesh would break the spell that had apparently come over her, and Ptolemy seemed all too willing to continue. The owl hadn't worked this hard in his life, Draco had been sure of it, and yet he'd seemed just as pleased with the activity as his owner had.

Around 10pm, he'd received a letter from her that had made his head spin.

—

Have you come up with another way to torture me yet?

—

That was it. No greeting, no signature.

Upon reading it, something deep inside of him had purred to life.

He knew that the idea had been to steer clear of lust and focus on love, and yet he wasn't sure he could simply skip that step. He needed to move their relationship forward in some way, and when the two of them had spoken logically, it had never led anywhere positive.

He'd mimicked her lack of greeting in reply, yet extended the length to make this one truly worth Ptolemy's trip, the last one of the evening. Hopefully he wouldn't cross her boundary line, the location of which he had still yet to discover...

—

A variety of things have crossed my mind.

We will be among a number of people who know nothing about what has transpired between us. I could always choose another witch and put on an act of flirting with her.