From Venice with Love

Thanks for the wonderful reviews! Next chapter they are back at school!

For dinner Draco took her to a restaurant called Antico Martini. It was right next to the opera house where they had gone the week before, and Hermione immediately fell in love with the gorgeous view and the cozy tables. At the reservation desk, Draco gave his name and they were led to a table lit by candlelight on the terrace.

Once they were given their menus, Hermione leaned towards him and whispered, “This is beautiful! Look at the view.” She gestured to the square lit up in the moonlight.

“Glad you like it. I made the reservations last week,” Draco said, his voice cocky.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she scanned the menu. “I want the scampi,” she said, putting the menu down to gawk once more at the view.

When the waiter returned, Draco ordered wine, Hermione’s dish and Spaghetti con caparozzoli for himself.

“What’s that?” she asked as the waiter left to place their order.

“Clams,” he said and she made a face. “You don’t like clams?”

“No, not at all. They taste like seaweed.”

“At least they don’t have faces like your shrimp,” he teased.

“The shrimp have faces?” she asked hesitantly.

“You’ll see,” he said smugly.

When the food came she saw that, indeed, the shrimp still had their heads. Making a face, she decided to try and pull them off as Draco laughed at her efforts. “Oh, be quiet!” Hermione hissed as he tried to stop his laughter.

They decided to stop at an ice cream parlour for dessert. After buying the ice cream, they continued walking through the piazza San Marco. Hermione sighed as she thought that this would be her last night here. She watched the people walking by, the hum of the conversation. They stopped at a bench and sat down to finish their ice cream.

“I got you something,” Draco said, after coming back from throwing their trash away.

“What? I didn’t get you anything!” Hermione said guiltily.

“That’s okay.” He took a small velvet box out of his jacket and handed it to her.

She took it and opened it to reveal a silver chain that carried a delicate star covered in diamonds. “It’s beautiful, Draco, but I can’t-“

“Yes, you can,” he interrupted.”Look,” he pulled out an identical silver chain from under his shirt, only the charm was a silver dragon. “Watch your necklace,” he said.

Hermione looked at it and suddenly felt it warm to her touch. Gasping, she looked at the back and saw words forming. “It has a Protean charm!”

Draco nodded. “That way we can communicate without owls. When to meet and such. Or just to say hello.”

“I love it!” Hermione cried, hugging him. He helped her put it on and she stared at it as it glittered in the moonlight. “I can’t believe that this time tomorrow we’ll be back at school.”

Draco leaned back. “I know. I got an owl from Pansy asking when I’d be back.”

Hermione frowned. “Draco, what about when Pansy-she’s still hung up on you, you know.”

“I plan to tell her the truth. I met someone on holiday and she’s out of luck,” Draco shrugged. “Someone who will be visiting me a lot in Hogsmeade. What did you plan to tell Potter and Weasley?”

“I hadn’t given it much thought. I thought they’d just think I spent every weekend in the library. It’s what I usually do anyway. Being Head Girl, I’ll be very busy anyway. They won’t notice.”

“Speaking of Head Girl,” Draco said. “You have your own room this year. That’ll be nice for you.”

“Definitely,” she said. “I like Lavender and Parvati, but they can be so loud. Childish as well.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Draco eyed her suggestively.

“Oh!” she said, blushing. “I suppose you may visit once in a while,” she said primly.

“Once in a while? I expect to know the password,” Draco said, eyebrows raised, but Hermione just laughed.

They sat quietly for a moment until Draco turned to her. “Just remember not to take anything I might say at school, in public, to heart. You have to promise.”

“I guess it would depend on what you say,” Hermione said. “I don’t know if I could stand you calling me- that name.”

“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise,” he said, his tone serious. “Slytherin is not like you happy-go-lucky Gryffindors. If one Slytherin senses weakness in another, all of them will pounce on it. Just stay away from me in classes and the hallways and it should be okay.”

“What a nice house to be in,” Hermione shuddered. “I don’t know how you stand it.”

“I don’t know how you stand the love fest that is Gryffindor,” he retorted. “They just seem…loud-and way too trusting.”

“The Sorting Hat thought about putting me in Ravenclaw,” Hermione admitted. “But in the end, it was Gryffindor. I like Gryffindor, by the way. Trust is very important.”

“Trust is over-rated,” Draco told her. “The only person that you can really trust is yourself. Anyone else would sell you out for the right price.”

“I hope you don’t really believe that!” Hermione said, horrified. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as much as I can,” he admitted. “You keep going on about me changing when term begins. Whose to say you won’t get around your precious Potter and Weasley again and decide I am evil? Or what if they forbid you from talking to me?”

Hermione’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Finally she said, “Harry and Ron trust my judgement, thank you very much. If they were to find out and I said you’re okay they wouldn’t be thrilled, but they’d accept it. If anything, I’m more worried about how upset they’d be knowing I lied to them. At least I don’t have to worry about them cursing me, unlike some people.”

Draco ignored her last statement. “You’re not lying to them, just not telling them. If you told them, they might want you to spy on me to find out what my father is doing or something like that.”

“What is your father doing?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said stiffly.

“Draco, I would never give Harry information about your father without your knowledge.”

“That’s not exactly saying you wouldn’t do it, though,” he argued.

“They won’t know anyway. At least not until You-Know-Who is defeated, so this is a pointless discussion. I don’t want to argue with you tonight. I have to be going to bed soon anyway. We have an early flight so that I can make it to the station on time.”

“You’re flying!” he said, shocked. “That’s ridiculous. I’m going alone, my mother is staying here. You can take my portkey with me.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It would be a lot easier. My parents could take a later flight.”

“Of course it’s fine. Just meet me here at 11 o’clock and I’ll take you to it.”

“That would be wonderful!” she smiled at him. “You’re wonderful.”

“Of course I am,” he said, and jumped up as she tried to hit him.