Slow Grenade

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The next few weeks passed in a blur of lessons and homework, the majority of which Hermione thoroughly enjoyed. It was planning the inter-House event that was causing the most stress; it appeared most of the eighth-years wanted a Quidditch tournament, much to her lament.

Draco slept in her room every night to ward off nightmares, both his own and hers, but that was it. Nothing else happened. Every morning though she would see him sat at one end of their table, carefully writing various letters. He refused to tell her who he was owling, only that it was part of his apparent 'masterplan'.

Hermione had been sending owls of her own, primarily to Harry and Ron; neither of whom were particularly forthcoming with their replies. They gave vague answers and general descriptions about their Auror training. Harry had a few more updates to share from Patrick about her parents, but nothing conclusive yet. He told her to keep hope.

The week before the Christmas holidays, it seemed that Draco's plans had finally come to fruition. When the post arrived in the Great Hall each and every morning, a large, mottled grey-brown Great Horned Owl would settle beside her and deposit a gift, before seeking out Draco for petting.

Pansy's eyes grew wide when she saw the scarlet and silver colour shifting gem cloistered in Tuesday's present. Hermione moved to brush her fingers across the bracelet, remembering the moment he had given it to her many years ago, but Pansy gripped her wrist and asked, "Do you know what that will mean?"

Hermione nodded: Draco had told her before that within pure-blood culture it was customary to give jewellery as a symbol of intention, part of a betrothal contract. She wasn't ready to wear it again quite yet, there were still things she needed to think about, but she took it from the box and placed it carefully in her pocket.

On Friday, their final day of classes for the year, Hermione was checking her satchel to ensure she had everything ready, when Draco stood and moved around the table towards her. She glowered at him, concerned about what he was planning to do next, but tried to convince herself that Draco Malfoy absolutely did not enjoy public displays of affection.

She was wrong.

Draco stopped in front of her and, with a slight smirk, said, "Granger, will you accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

It was completely unnecessary to ask such a question in front of the entire Great Hall and Hermione felt as though she had no choice but to acquiesce. She nodded but, under her breath, hissed, "What about your parents, Draco?"

"All sorted," he said quietly, before announcing loudly, "it's a date."

Hermione only just managed to refrain from rolling her eyes in response.

Wandering into Hogsmeade the next morning, Draco caught her hand with his and entwined their fingers together. "This okay?" he asked.

"Only if you're sure," she replied, and he nodded.

"I bet you never realised I could be so expressive?"

"No, Draco, I did not," she groaned, trying to hide the smile on her face. "Tell me again why it was necessary to express yourself in front of the entire Great Hall?"

"Well I had to ensure everyone was aware of my intentions towards you, didn't I?"

Hermione smiled. "Intentions perhaps, but nothing's confirmed yet, is it?"

He was too busy glowering to notice she had lifted the sleeve of her robe to reveal the bracelet he had now twice gifted her.

"Draco," she prompted, rolling her eyes.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he glimpsed her wrist and, swallowing slowly, he ground out, "Granger?"

They had stopped in the middle of the path. His hands moved to cup her chin, one thumb drawing circles on her cheekbone. Hermione's heart pounded as she stared up at him, even after all this time she still couldn't quite believe that he was over a head taller than her.

"We need to go slowly," she told him. "There's a lot we need to discuss. But, Draco, I want you. I want us."

"Fuck, Hermione, I love you."

She chuckled. "I think you might need a few lessons in 'going slow', Malfoy."

Smirking, he grabbed her hand again and pulled her into the little village.

"So, where are you taking me on this fantastic date of yours?"

His smirk widened. "Have you ever been to Madam – "

"Oh Merlin, no," she interrupted, mouth agape.

"I am absolutely joking, Granger. We are not setting foot in that establishment."

Hermione laughed, tightening her grip on his hand. "Thank Godric."

"'Mione?" someone called from behind her.

She immediately recognised the familiar voice and, glancing briefly up at Draco, reluctantly turned around.

The smile that had initially flooded Ron's face was quickly replaced by a grimace as he absorbed the image before him: Hermione and Draco, fingers laced together.

He glanced up and down, left to right. "What's this?"

Nobody moved. Hermione and Harry stared at each other, panic etched onto their features.

"Would anybody like to update me?" Ron snarled, his voice low.

Her heart stopped as Draco took a step forward, held out his hand, and said, "Weasley."

Hermione barely heard the curse that emanated from Ron's mouth before he launched himself at Draco, fists bared. "Don't you fucking touch her," he yelled.

She attempted to leap in front of Draco, but he caught her arms and pushed her gently to the side.

"Weasley," Draco drawled, "don't embarrass yourself."

It would have been absolute chaos if Draco hadn't, somehow, managed to hold himself back and simply dodge each attack aimed towards him.

"Harry," she whispered angrily, "don't just stand there."

Her statement seemed to urge the trainee Auror into action. Harry dove between the two of them. "Stop, fucking stop this."

Ron paused to stare at his friend. "You're okay with this?"

"It's not our decision," Harry asserted. "I trust Hermione, and so should you."

"No," he shouted. "She's clearly not in her right mind, we need to do something about this."

Hermione was fuming. "Ronald, how dare you? I am absolutely capable of making my own choices, who do you think you are?"

Ron look mollified for a moment until he caught sight of Draco again. "Have you all fucking forgotten who he is, what he's done?"

There was silence again.

"He," Ron pointed savagely at Draco, "aside from bullying us for years and trying to kill Dumbledore, just watched Hermione get tortured on the floor of his fucking Manor. Most concerned with how they might remove the fucking blood stains."

She knew the second these words left his mouth that Draco would break.

"Get out of my fucking face," Draco spat. "You know nothing about what happened that night, I would have done anything for Hermione."

Ron sneered. "Yeah but you didn't though, did you, Malfoy?"

As Draco took another step forward, Hermione suddenly noticed the crowd they were drawing in. "Can we continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?" she asked brusquely.

"No," Ron snapped and turned to leave. "I'm going nowhere with him or you."

Harry looked apologetically at Hermione before running after their friend.