Nicest Thing

A/N: I’ve decided to move things a little along in terms of Draco’s POV. I kept in a crucial part of the story involving their “first time” together but didn’t want to dwell on their actions as I had the first three chapters in Hermione’s version. Why? Because, I’m impatient and my creative juices don’t want to be hampered by what I already wrote. I blame the impatient Draco in me *snickers*

I’m also trying for a new format for the chapters (including where the songs should be placed for those of you who put on the music I wrote the chapters to). So, tell me what you think. I like it because it looks pretty and I like pretty things. Oh…shiny…*scampers off*

Songs
No Guarantees in Life: Don’t Know for How Long
Kate Havnevik – Unlike Me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8cUrmCg64A

Just Textbook Stuff: ABC’s of Growing Up
Imogen Heap – Speeding Cars
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3R0RHNHaU4

Author’s Replies
As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed and rated the story. It has really given me the stamina to continue the story.

chunkymonkey – Lol, you do the same thing I do. Whenever I find a really good fanfiction I waste my entire day reading it. I read one where I was nearly late to a graduate school interview. I had to drive really fast and made it with two minutes to spare – even though I got lost on the way. But, I feel honored I wasted your Sunday. Lol.

scarletwitchextreme – Ah, that is the beauty of POVs they are from one person’s view and things can get messy. In essence, Hermione is skeptical about everything involving our wonderful Mr. Malfoy. While she finds she cares for him more than she should, she is still weary especially considering his *ahem* perchance for loving the ladies. What she doesn’t realize is that all those people she cares about can read her like an open book and want to help, but don’t want to force things on her. The last thing you want to do is to corner a lioness. I hope you are enjoying the story. It’s far different from the ones I’m used to writing – or reading for that matter – but I was in the mood for something light with a little bit of drama. Draco’s POV = Drama galore. Tons of people are fighting for this hunk of man-meat. LOL.

Citten – I always wanted to end the story with the wedding but that was Hermione’s more profound moment – getting married and I liked how it started with a wedding and ended with one. =) Don’t worry though Draco’s POV ending will be vastly different from Hermione’s. We’ll see what they are up to in the immediate future.


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No Guarantees in Life: Don’t Know for How Long
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She slept so peacefully it was almost as if she weren’t alive at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could feel her warm breath against his chest, her hand move in small circles over his stomach, and her chest rise ever so softly, he would have thought she wasn’t real. Draco stared up at the ceiling in her room, half of the bed covers hanging loosely over his waist. She was a blanket and a bed hog, but he didn’t mind. Hermione moved against him, her tongue dipping out to lick her lips slowly and sensually. Draco couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. Everything he had known about her when they were younger flew out the coup after this night and he was sure of it.

He didn’t know why he accepted her offer for tea – knowing quite well that he wouldn’t stay long enough for tea. His nerves had been on end after their long conversation, the longest one he ever had with a woman of the opposite sex he was physically and mentally attracted to. She was intelligent, and not in the know-it-all fashion, but she really knew what she was talking about. Hardly talking about him, or herself, their conversation flowed from one subject to another and he found it a relief. Many times Draco found himself bored and on the verge of falling out cold because his dates would yammer about themselves or worse, him.

While in school he would enjoy anything said about him in a positive light, he was an attention seeker after all, now that he was thrust into the spotlight so often he hated it. Seeing himself grace the cover of Witch Weekly every week annoyed him to no end. Why he wanted to know who he was dating, or what kinds of soup he enjoys ordering while out, never appealed to him. Even after winning the coveted Most Charming Bachelor in Britain, Draco shoved every magazine he came across behind others and would groan whenever his mother brought them out when they had company.

Fame and fortune was really hell for him but he had known nothing else and thus endured it far better than others would. He knew that Ginny and Potter wouldn’t make it in the spotlight – even after the Dark Lord fell and the world rejoiced – but they did try. Ron Weasley faired far better than Potter, to Draco’s surprise, but only because he had lived his life in poverty and the least of everyone’s worries he reveled in it. Draco and Blaise had a bet going on of how long it took for him to break. Draco won in the end. Five months of photos, stories and love letters from witches across the seas, Weasley had broken and took to hiding in that dismal shop his twin brothers owned.

Hermione, on the other hand, hadn’t embraced fame and fortune at all. Instead, she used it to push bill after bill and rise higher in her employment. He hardly heard a thing about her but he also hadn’t been looking. If anything, he expected her to be pregnant and barefoot with seven little red headed kids running around. His assumptions of her had drastically changed in the course of one night and it confused it. It really confused him.

Draco stiffened when Hermione moved, finally, and brought her hand to his hip draping it over his stomach. He sighed and closed his eyes, debating on whether he should stay for the night. Like he wanted to wake up to an awkward morning and it wasn’t his style. One night stands weren’t ever meant to be soft and sensual, not like he had her several times this night. Normally, he would rut against a girl and leave right after. They never said anything because they either were too flabbergasted that he’d leave or that they got him. It didn’t matter anymore.

Tracing his left hand over the side of Hermione’s bare form, Draco fell into a small slumber. Their breaths soon moved in unison as the moon rose over them and settled on one side. As soon as the sun hit his face, Draco’s eyes popped open and he groaned quietly. Bringing a hand to his face, he rubbed his crusted eyes and felt a small pang of headache worming its way though. Today was going to be a stressful day and he knew it. He looked through one eye down at the still sleeping form of Hermione and brought his hand to her, slowly rolling her onto her back.

Draco watched as Hermione moved like flowing fabric to her side of the bed, effectively stealing the rest of the sheets. He moved to the edge of the bed, allowing his feet to touch the ground and ran his hands through his hand, rubbing his face harder afterward to make himself more awake. He stretched his toes and listened to the cracking of his back as he rose. Striding naked past Hermione’s window, Draco paused and leaned forward just a tad as two large bottle coke eyes were staring straight at him. A plump woman popped up from the hedges on the side of Hermione’s yard with wide eyes, her face flushed red. His eyes followed her eye line straight to his crotch and he found himself grinning. Looking back at the woman, who had turned beat red at this point, Draco placed his hands on his hips and stretched more, arching his chest back some. He winked when she caught his eye and he nearly laughed as she toppled over the hedge trying to weasel her way back to her property.

Dressing silently, Draco pulled the sheets from Hermione and fluffed her pillow. He picked her dress from the floor, followed by her shoes and undergarments – tossing those into the hamper beside her dresser, and hung her dress onto the hook on her door. Why he had gone to so much trouble was beyond him. He really hated messes, but he was hardly clean himself he had house-elves clean up after him all his life. It might be that reason why he didn’t like to see things disheveled and Hermione…well she was the picture of dishevelment.

Opening the door to her bedroom, he looked down at the large ginger cat sitting in front of the door staring at him. His large green eyes narrowed as if he were assessing if Draco was worthy enough of keeping his testicles for the day and seemed to approve. Draco stepped over the cat and moved into the kitchen, the animal following him dutifully from behind. He jumped onto the table and sat, watching Draco pick the teabags from the floor and placed the mugs closer together. That ruddy cat was starting to give him the creeps as he watched him move from the kitchen to the closet.

The cat jumped from the table and followed him as Draco pulled his traveling cloak from the hanger and was about to pull his arm in it when the cat sat by his feet and just stared. Ok, so this thing was really starting to creep him out. Draco looked around, wondering if the animal needed or wanted anything but found nothing.

“Don’t worry,” Draco said quietly, feeling awkward talking to an animal who probably didn’t understand him, “This isn’t just a frilly shag. If it was I would have left hours ago.”

The cat seemed satisfied by Draco’s answer as he instantly moved and bounded away toward the bedroom. Draco stared at the backside of the cat until he disappeared around the corner and quirked an eyebrow.

“Weird.”

He pulled the handle of the door and left. As he made his way to the Apparition point – not wanting to just disappear on Hermione’s doorstep, Draco paused when the large bottle coke eyed woman looked at him as she sheered her rose buses.

“M’am,” Draco said, tipping his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

The woman dropped her sheers and moved to the hedge, resting her hands on the top of it with her mouth lowered.

“Blimey, that is one gorgeous man,” he heard her whisper in a small cracking voice.

He couldn’t help but grin. Of course, he was gorgeous. He had just spent the evening with a woman who once pissed him off and now intrigued him. The after glow of great sex was real magic. Screw glamour charms.


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Just Textbook Stuff: ABC’s of Growing Up
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Diagon Alley had changed over the years and, in Draco’s opinion, it had changed for the better. No longer a narrow alleyway of small shops, it had expanded and included a large marble fountain that was surrounded by pigeons and round white metal sun tables that were packed with families and couples alike. Older wizards were stationed closer to the fountain playing wizard’s chess while young children took knuts from their mothers or fathers and threw the coins into the fountain – making a wish and hoping it’d come true.

Pulling his hood up, Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and moved through the crowds. While it was sunny outside, the wind picked up and had sent shivers down most people. Not to mention, Draco didn’t really like being spotted by people as he made his way to Kirkland’s Post, the newly erected post office ran by a very boisterous blob of a man with a tuff of gray hair on his shiny head, to pick up his letters. His home had become Unplottable after his rise to fame and his only joy during his days off were to pick up his letters and packages from his mother and father. It had been four weeks since his last ‘day off’ being that the team was working hard to get to the Quidditch World Cup. Four weeks since he spent that night with Hermione. He had planned on meeting his mother for lunch but decided to come early so he wouldn’t have to make a mad dash to the post office during rush time.

He entered the small shop and was greeted by several employees wearing emerald green robes with owls of every kind stitched onto their sleeves. Draco pulled the hood from his cloak down and brought his hands to his hair – running his fingers along the strays to put them back into place. Two girls with bright green eyes, the size of a barn owl’s own peepers, beamed at him as he approached.

“Letters and parcels for D. Malfoy.” Draco said nonchalantly, trying to look past two sets of large emerald eyes.

It irked him the way they stared at him and he felt himself becoming a tad paranoid. Who knew what these girls were thinking – well he could find out but he really didn’t want to. The shorter one with her blond hair in pig tails gaped at him after he spoke, as if he had flashed her – which he most certainly did not. Her sister nudged her when she noticed that Draco had noticed and turned bright red.

“Yes, sir.” The Twat A said, not budging as she nudged her sister, Twat B, and tilted her head back for Twat A to get the parcels, but she clearly didn’t want to.

Draco pulled his lips into his mouth and hummed once, nodding slightly as his eyes scanned the other customers, most of who were staring at him intently. He cracked his neck and strained to look elsewhere finding two roosting owls quite entertaining for the moment. Twat B ended up running to get his parcels and returning quickly with her arms full.

“Wow, you sure have a lot of…letters.” Twat A crooned, leaning over the table as she slid a book forward followed by a quill.

“I’m sure,” Draco nodded, grabbing the quill. He hesitated for a moment after he felt the warm, oddly stinky, breath of Twat A and B hovering over him.

Glancing up, he quirked an eyebrow and smirked. His curved slips sent them into a blushing frenzy, giving him enough time to quickly jot his name down and reach for his packages.

“Let me help you,” Twat B chirped, grasping onto a parcel that was closest to her.

“No, let me help you!” Twat A snarled, growling at her sister as she grabbed the same parcel and a tug-of-war began.

Draco merely shook his head and pulled his wand out, shrinking his parcels until they were able to fit into his label pocket. He glanced up at the large melted clock to look at the time before clearing his throat.

“I’m sure I can manage,” Draco said lightly, plucking the package from their greedy little hands, “But, if I need any assistance in the future, I’ll know who to come to. Thank you.”

They beamed at him and sighed in unison as he walked past them. “He’s so dreamy.” Twat B said, resting her chin on her hand. “No duh. He’s Draco Malfoy. Of course he’s dreamy.” Twat A scolded, “And he was totally talking to me.” Twat B growled, “What? No! He was talking to me!”

An elderly woman walked up to the counter and placed her parcel on the table, digging into her purse for her change. Twat A and B started a screaming match and ended up knocking the elderly woman’s parcel on top of her, sending potions and supplies flying everywhere. They winced and shouted a ‘Sorry!’ in unison. Idiots.

Draco pulled his hood over his head once more and exited, feeling the cold draft of autumn breeze through his robes. He tucked his hands under his arms and moved through the crowd, ducking under a large parcel some one was carrying and jumping back when another person came crashing out of the Quidditch Shop carrying several brooms under his arms.

He finally made it to a small café that sat next to Ollivander’s and looked over the sea of heads. He spotted his mother across the way, and smiled when she noticed him as well. Climbing through the crowded tables, Draco sat with his back to the other occupants and removed his hood. Narcissa leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek before he sat.

“Darling,” she cooed, tracing her hand over Draco’s subtle features, “You look exhausted, have you been sleeping well?”

Did she really want him to answer that? Had he been sleeping well? His bed was three times the size of a king size, he had the softest comfortable in all of Britain, and he was always so exhausted after every Quidditch practice that he hardly made it out of the shower before he plopped for the night. If that was what she meant when she asked if he was sleeping well, then yes. If she meant whether he had that bloody Gryffindor on his mind, plaguing his dreams and making him moan her name out as he…ahem enough thoughts on that. Then no, he was not sleeping peacefully.

“Yes, mother,” Draco replied with a curt nod, resting his hand on the table. “How have you and father been?”

“Oh, very busy. You know.” Narcissa smiled, “He’s working so much at the Ministry and I have my thing with the Prophet.”

Oh yeah, he forgot to mention what happened to his family after the war. Well, Lucius was saved from the gallows, Azkaban and Dementors after Draco’s little stunt that saved ‘The Boy Who Triumphed’ snort and after some time was given his job back at the Ministry. He still held his prejudices against Muggle-borns and Muggles in general but, unlike Draco’s younger years, kept his opinions to himself. His mother, well, she went to work for the fist time in her life. He had a feeling it was something to do with starting a new leaf, or whatever that bloody phrase was, but she looked happy and he was happy for her.

No longer wearing robes of flowing colors, Narcissa Malfoy toned down her look and kept her long billowy blond hair in a loose up-do with strands that fell over her perfect face. She kept up with her high end fashion and tailor made robes but instead of long dresses and the like, stayed with skirts of mocha brown and fashionable dress jackets and blouses. Working as junior editor of the Prophet had its benefits – in that Draco would always be the first to know what was about to be published – but unfortunately she was overruled by a very annoying, very blond Rita Skeeter. How that bim got senior editor was beyond him.

“Speaking of which,” Naricssa smirked, “How is that lovely girl you were seeing? The one from Greece?”

“Don’t know,” Draco shrugged, flagging down a waiter where he order a sandwich and fizzy drink, “Haven’t spoken to her in months.”

Narcissa sighed and plopped her chin onto her hand, giving Draco the ‘why is it my boy never finds love’ look. He hated it and wanted to hex it off her face, but he loved his mother and she’d hit him with twice as many hexes before he could even draw his wand. Unlike popular belief, Narcissa was rather talented with both potion making and charms, hexes, the like. She was a pretty face, far prettier than most, but she was bloody brilliant as well. After all, Lucius wouldn’t have married a stupid bim who just looked good on his arm. Well, he might of but he got lucky with Draco’s mum.

“There’s a snippet I read about you and a certain Muggle-born witch when Rita covered Potter’s wedding,” Narcissa grinned, noting Draco’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“What do you want to know, mother?” Draco breathed, nodding to the waiter as he set his food in front of him. All of a sudden, he wasn’t so hungry.

“Oh, nothing.” She said teasingly, leaning back in her seat, “Just everything. Did you like her? Did she like you?”

“Urgh,” Draco slumped back in his seat and flicked at the chips on his plate, watching it fall onto the long white table cloth, “Do we have to talk about my sex life, mother? I thought we were just coming out to lunch…”

“So you had sex with her,” Narcissa looked thoroughly interested, and it annoyed Draco.

“I am not talking to you about that,” Draco groaned, flicking another chip onto the table cloth.

“It’s only sex, Draco,” his mother crooned, leaning forward again, “I saw the pictures of you two together. You looked really happy.”

“I was probably sneezing,” Draco mumbled, nibbling on the end of a chip before he tossed it into his glass of water.

“Stop playing with your food,” Narcissa scolded, cupping her hand over the glass of water to prevent a fourth chip from flying into it. “Now, I’m not going to judge if you really like this girl.”

“Oh gods, mother!” Draco said annoyed, “It was just a bloody dance, alright? I asked her to dance, we danced and that was it.”

His voice was a little louder then he wanted, causing several patrons to turn and look. His face turned red and he tried to hide himself by using his hand as a partition. His mother, however, merely grinned at him with her piercing cobalt blue eyes.

“I don’t see why it is such a big deal, Draco honey.” She said softly, in her motherly voice, “I am interested in what my son is up to and…”

“And you want me to start having babies, I know.”

“You are turning twenty-six in a few months.”

“Don’t remind me,” Draco groaned, “Listen, mother, what you think is happening between me and Hermione….”

“Hermione and I.” Narcissa corrected, “I didn’t send you to Hogwarts or have the best tutors for you to use incorrect grammar while trying to hide things from me.”

“Whatever,” Draco flipped his hand out and brought it to his head, scraping his hair back, “I had a one night stand with her, alright? Happy? I said it.”

“Oh honey,” Narcissa cooed, resting her hand on his own, “Did she kick you out?”

“What?” Draco snapped, “No! Of course not! I left her.”

Narcissa gave him that look and he was really beginning to regret spilling it all to his mother, his mother for cripes’ sake!. It was the look she gave his father whenever he mumbled ‘mudblood’ or something obscene whenever they passed Muggles. Unlike him, she had become increasingly tolerant with half bloods, muggle-borns, and even muggles. It was rather strange at first, but he didn’t really care as long as she didn’t bring him to Muggle London or anything like that.

“I’m disappointed,” Narcissa said in a soft calm tone, “I thought I raised you better.”

“Ma,” Draco groaned, “It was a one night stand. It didn’t mean anything.”

“How do you know? Maybe this girl really liked you and you…my darling…blew it because your father thinks it’s proper etiquette to leave after a quick shag,” she said firmly, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Draco. Girls are not stupid. They may, however, be oblivious at times but every action you take; they will analyze. Women enjoy analyzing feelings, emotions, and even body language. From what I witnessed, your body language was far more interested in that girl then you think.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” Draco mumbled, “I got lost after girls are not stupid.”

Narcissa sighed and brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Not pry into my personal life? That’s a start,” Draco said, giving his mother a cheeky grin when she shot daggers at him.

“You should owl her,” Narcissa finally said after a moment of silence, “It might be nice for you think actually get to know a girl before you toss her.”

“Fine, whatever,” Draco grumbled, taking a bite of his chip like he was taking his frustrations out on it.

“You’ll thank me, and I want grandbabies before I get gray hair,” Naricssa said, emphasizing the grandchildren part.

Of course, she was getting to that stage where all of her friends’ children were having children and he blamed Blaise and his pregnant wife for that. Even though, a part of Draco wanted to see what could come with Hermione. Maybe it wasn’t just a night of shagging and he had promised that damn cat it wasn’t just a shag.