From Venice with Love

They walked through the streets of Venice forever; it seemed to Hermione, before Draco finally stopped in front an old stone building. He pulled her towards the door and pulled a key out of his pocket. Before he could use it, however, the door was flung open by an old house elf wearing a large chequered pillowcase.


“Master Malfoy,” it screeched, wringing its’ hands. “You said you would be out late. We have nothing prepared-“


“It’s ok,” Draco cut the elf off and pulled Hermione inside, quickly shutting the door behind them. “I’ve told you before, don’t open the door!” he snapped.


“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir!” the elf wailed. “Would Master like some dinner?”


“Yes, please make dinner and send it out to the terrace,” Draco said to the elf, still seeming annoyed as it bowed before scampering away. Seeing the look on Hermione’s face, he frowned. “Don’t start, Granger. Do you know what would happen if she had been seen?”


“She shouldn’t be here at all,” Hermione mumbled but decided to let it go for now. She looked around in the dim light. “This is your house?” she asked.


Draco nodded. “My parents bought it right after they were married. We’ve always spent some time here during summer holiday. Would you like a tour?”


Hermione nodded, and Draco took her hand again and led her out of the entryway into a large room lined with bookshelves. “My father’s study,” he said, quickly pulling her out of the room. Next was a room with a large fireplace and some sofas and chairs. “Sitting room. My mother’s fond of it,” he said. He then led her up the stairs where there were 4 rooms and a bathroom. He pointed to each one on turn. “Guest room, guest room, my parents’ room, my room,” he paused to leer at her. “Would you like to see my room, Hermione?”


“Umm, I’m really hungry,” she said nervously, as he laughed softly and shook his head.


“My parents and my room both have private baths,” he said, continuing with the tour. “Downstairs is the kitchen as well as another loo,” he said, pulling her up yet another stairway. Here, there was what looked like a greenhouse. Draco opened a door that led to an outside garden and terrace.

The view was wonderful. Hermione could see the city lights and St. Mark’s Basilica lit up beautifully. She went to the edge of the terrace and stared out, smiling. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Draco joined her. “It is nice,” he agreed. “Come on, I thought you were starving.” He led her over to a wrought iron table that was loaded with food.

“It looks wonderful,” Hermione said, sitting down. She took a little of everything and began to eat with relish. Draco laughed. “What?” she said, frowning.

“Nothing,” he said, then, “It’s just most girls don’t eat much in front of people.”

“I’m not most girls,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve noticed that,” he said, smiling at her and she blushed.

They finished dinner fairly quickly after that and sat drinking coffee for awhile making polite conversation as Hermione’s mind raced. She was at his house. She was a little scared at what he was expecting from her. Though she liked him, she was sure she wasn’t quite ready for what he might be expecting. She wondered how many other girls he had brought here.

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts she did not see Draco’s eyes widen and his back straighten until she heard a voice from behind her. “We have company, Draco, dear?”

Hermione was sure who the cold voice belonged to and was afraid to turn around.

Draco quickly regained his composure. “Mother, I thought you were still in Rome.”

“I was, but it was so boring down there. Honestly, you’d think they would be better hosts. So, Draco, I take it this is the young lady you wanted the opera tickets for?” Her voice was closer now and Hermione was paralyzed with fear.

“Yes, Mother, but we’re in a hurry to meet Alessandro. You’ll have to chat at another time.” Draco pulled Hermione to her feet, and still holding her hand, made for the doorway Narcissa Malfoy had just left.

“Draco, don’t be silly. It won’t take long,” Suddenly, Narcissa was in front of Hermione.”Hello, I’m Narcissa Malfoy,” she said. “And you are?”

Looking into her blue eyes, Hermione realised that Narcissa did not recognise her. She smiled weakly. “Ciao,” she said.

Draco picked up on her plan immediately. “Mother, Gabriella speaks very little English,” he said smoothly.

“Oh, of course,” Narcissa said, smiling.”Well, you two have fun, I’m off to bed,” she walked past them again, back inside.

For a moment, Draco and Hermione just stood there in silence. Finally, Draco sighed. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

Hermione nodded and they began to walk downstairs towards the entrance. They walked in silence until they were back outside.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said. “I didn’t think she’d be back for days,”

“That’s OK,” Hermione said. “It could have been loads worse. I can’t believe she didn’t recognise me.”

“Well, she’s only seen you once or twice and that was from a pretty good distance,” he said. “Also, you don’t really look your normal self tonight. In the dim lighting…”

“Thanks,” Hermione muttered.

“I mean… you know what I mean,” he said, fumbling his words.

Hermione stopped in the street and looked at him. “If she had recognised me, what would you have done?”

Draco shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “She didn’t,” he said after a minute.

“But what if she did?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “My parents…don’t like you very much.”

“Because of my blood,” she supplied and he nodded. “And you?”

“I think that’s obvious,” he said quietly. As she opened her mouth to speak, he kept going. “When you’re told to hate something, it’s easy just to do it. It’s easier than making up your own mind. Until you realise that maybe, you were wrong.” He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.”Your parents are nice people. And you...” He didn’t finish the sentence, but closed the distance between them, his breath on her face. “You’re different.”

“So are you,” Hermione whispered, as he captured her lips in a kiss.

After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at her. “This evening didn’t quite go as planned,” he said.

“What was your plan?” she laughed. “I was never going to tour your bedroom, Malfoy, even before your mother appeared.”

They were back at her hotel then, and took the elevator up to her floor, where they stood awkwardly by the door. Hermione half expected to see her mother peering through the peephole at them, but the hallway was dark and quiet when she opened the door. “Well,” she said finally. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. The opera was lovely, as was dinner.”

Draco leaned closer to her and traced her cheek and chin with his hand while she talked, making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate on what she was saying. “I’m glad you liked it,” he murmured as he leaned even closer and stroked her hair.

“Maybe tomorrow, we can…” she trailed off as he began softly kissing her neck and shoulder. A lump in her throat, she forced herself to remember what she was saying.”Maybe tomorrow we can meet for lunch?”

“Hmmm?” Draco whispered, his mouth moving up her neck and making her shiver. “What?”

“I said-“ Hermione was cut off as his lips reached her mouth. The kiss was slow and sensual and took her breath away and made her knees feel like jelly.

“Where?” he said finally, pulling away.

“Where what?” she asked confused.

Draco smiled and began to back away. “Where should we meet for lunch? Honestly, Granger, pay attention.” The elevator doors closed before her shoe could hit him. Hermione heard his muffled laugh, then, “Meet me at noon in the square.”

She didn’t answer, but knew she’d be there. Hermione went to the elevator doors to pick up her shoe where she’d thrown it.

“Hermione?” her mother was at the door now, a huge grin plastered on her face. “How did it go? Was it wonderful?”

Hermione sighed, smiling, gestured for her mother to go back in the suite, and closed the door behind them.