Something In The Way She Moves

Chapter 4: Dinner









Hermione floo’d home and began undressing immediately, changing from her work clothes into a comfortable cotton dress of a soft coral color. Barefoot, she made her way to the kitchen and began preparing a meal for Draco and herself. He had completely screwed up her day by showing up at her office. From the moment he left her she had been unable to focus, her thoughts constantly interrupted with memories of that night, of the last time she had seen him sprawled naked on his stomach in the middle of his bed.







She wasn’t sure how she had even made it through her meeting, to be honest. Lucky for her the lead researcher on the project had attended and did most of the talking. She sighed as she readied the steaks and put them beneath the broiler then began to dice several red potatoes into bite sized chunk and toss them into a pot. She filled it with water and set it on the burner to boil.





“What are you doing?” Hermione turned sharply, a butcher’s knife clutched in her hand as she stared at Draco leaning against her kitchen doorway.





“Son of a biscuit!” She gasped, laying her hand over her pounding heart.







“Son of a biscuit? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked, chuckling.







“I don’t like to swear.” She said. “And I don’t like you sneaking up on me all the time!”







“It’s seven; you told me to come at seven and opened the connection, so you should have been expecting me.” He said. She looked up at the clock above her sink and frowned. She had lost track of time while haunted by her thoughts.





“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She said. “Would you like something to drink?”





“Water is fine.” He said as he climbed onto a stool at her kitchen island. She went to her icebox and got him a bottled water, then set to work on making a salad.







“I wish you would have announced yourself though, I didn’t even hear you access the floo.” She said as she began to tear the romaine and toss it into a bowl.





“You looked distracted.” He said, watching her hands as she expertly cut vegetables and tossed them into the bowl.







“Just thinking about work and other stuff.” She covered the bowl and set it back into the icebox, then began cleaning up her work top. She stopped wiping down the counter when his fingers wrapped around her wrist.





“Calm down, Granger. I’m just here for dinner, not to turn your life upside down.” He said softly.





“You’ve already done that.” She said. “I don’t make a habit of sleeping with men I don’t know.”





“You know me.” He said, pulling her around the counter and between his knees. “And I never thought for a moment that you made a habit of it, Hermione. When you told me there had been no one since Weasel, I knew you were telling the truth. Besides, someone who made a habit of such things wouldn’t have been so nervous.”





“Was it so obvious?” She asked, her cheeks flushing.





“Well, you were slow to warm up, but I have to say, Granger, once you got going you were un-fucking-believable.” He laughed.





“Thanks, I think. I can’t say in all honesty that it’s ever…I mean…well…it’s never been like that for me before.” She said, tucking her chin to her chest and hiding her face.





“Thanks for the ego boost.” He chuckled, nudging her chin up with his knuckle. “For me either, Granger. You are something else.”





“You said that earlier.” She smiled.







“It warrants repeating.” He said. “How long until I get to eat? I’m starving and something smells terrific.”







Hermione moved away from him and finished making their dinner. Broiled filet mignon with red potatoes tossed in garlic, butter and fresh parsley, and a mixed green salad. She pulled a bottle of sweet red wine from the icebox and poured them each a glass and carried it into her tiny dining room.





Draco had found her silver candlesticks and lit ivory tapers, giving the small room a light, romantic glow. He smiled and pulled her chair out for her as she set their glasses on the table.





“Are you trying to charm me, Draco?” She asked.





“No, I’m just naturally charming.” He said, smiling at her as he settled into his chair and laid his napkin in his lap. “Are you finding it hard to resist me?”







“It gets easier the more you speak.” She laughed as she tucked in for her meal. She jumped at his sudden exclamation.





“My gods! This is bloody fantastic!” he said, the look of surprise on his face almost insulting. Had he thought her culinary skills were likely to be mediocre?







“Now why did you have to look so shocked, Draco? Did you think I would bring you to my home and cook for you if I wasn’t certain of my skills in the kitchen?” She asked.





“I’m sorry; I just don’t really know any women who can actually cook. They all use house elves.” He said, taking another bite of the tender beef on his plate. “And I agree, one should never invite a person to their home for something unless they are certain they can deliver.” He winked at her when he saw her cheeks turn rosy. “You need to stop blushing so much, Granger, it gets me excited to see the color bloom in your cheeks.”







“Then you need to stop saying such outrageous things to me.” She said quietly. “It’s not appropriate dinner conversation.” Draco couldn’t help but smile at her. She could be a prudish little thing.





“Alright, tell me what has gone on in your life since the last time we saw each other. Well, before I took you to bed and made you scream.” He chuckled when she dropped her fork.





“Well, not much actually.” She said, shaking her head. “After the war I went back to Hogwarts and finished school with the class behind us. After I went to University, Ron and I broke up during that time.”







“Why?” He interrupted.







“Oh…well I suppose that it just never…caught fire, I guess. We were always more friends than lovers.” She reached for her wine, shrugging in that C’est la vie manner universally recognized, even in the wizarding world. “I graduated University and went to work as a curse researcher and worked my way up. I am now head of the Department for Spells Research.”





“What about you?” He asked. “Hobbies, interests?”







“I read, I like to go to the cinema and I like music. It’s what brought me into your pub actually; I could hear the music from the street.” She said. “You were the last person I expected to see and I certainly didn’t expect you to be the owner.”





“I was just as surprised to see you.” He said. “Especially wearing that rather suggestive shirt.”







“I have a small collection of shirts with unusual quotes on them. Most of them are gifts from my friends who think I’m a prude.” She sat back in her chair and watched him eat as though he were starving.







“Are you?” He asked.





“A prude? I suppose I am to a certain degree. You have quite an appetite.”





“I plan on using a lot of energy in the near future; I need all the calories I can get.” He smiled before wrapping his lips around another forkful of food.





“Tell me about you.” She said.





“Ah. Well, as you know I didn’t go back to Hogwarts after the war, but I did sit my N.E.W.T.’s. I went away with my parents for a time to Spain where I went to University. I earned my degrees and then we made our way back to England.” He sighed in satisfaction and crossed his silverware over his empty plate. “My parents began searching for a wife for me.”





“Your parents wanted to arrange a marriage for you?” Hermione knew that the pureblood families were rather old fashioned, okay so they were rather archaic, but she couldn’t believe they were still arranging marriages.





“Oh yes. And during this parade of eligible pureblood women I began to get annoyed. I refused every single female they brought before me. Needless to say they were more than irritated with me. My father loves tradition, so he of course was livid, accusing me of being tainted by the modern world encroaching on wizarding society. He of course threatened to disown me, not that it really mattered, and I had a rather large vault in my name only from Mother’s side of the family, so I wasn’t really worried about it. My purpose in life became to annoy my parents as much as possible.”







“Isn’t that a little immature?” Hermione reached for the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses.







“Don’t pretend that you expect better of me, Granger.” He laughed. “No one ever does.”





Hermione saw the hurt flash through his eyes briefly and she felt bad for him. It must be difficult to have everyone expect nothing but the worst from you.







“As I was saying, annoying them was easy enough. I moved to muggle London, bought the motorcycle and began focusing on music. I did nothing but waste money, carouse and womanize for awhile. I’m not proud of it or anything, but it’s the truth. Then I bought the bar. The only thing good my father can say about it is that it’s a magical establishment. Not that he has ever stepped foot inside.” He said softly. “I like my life now that it, and I, have calmed down some.”





“Now that doesn’t sound so immature.” She smiled. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”





“Sometimes.” He answered. “But not right now. Right now I am anything but lonely.”





“There goes that famous Malfoy charm again.” She stood and stacked their empty plates, then carried them into the kitchen. She heard him follow her with their glasses and the empty wine bottle as she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and cast a spell for the washing up.





When she turned around Draco was standing in front of her icebox staring at the photographs stuck to the front beneath magnets. She walked up beside him and pointed to the photo of two little dark haired boys, one with glasses and the other with a bright blue pacifier in his mouth.





“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who their parents are. But that is James and Albus Potter.” She said quietly. “They are my godsons.”





“They certainly look like their father.” Draco said. “And the kid with blue hair?”





“Teddy Lupin. He is your cousin actually.”





“Andromeda’s grandson. She and my mother still do not speak.” He said softly. “The little girl?”





“Victoire Weasley. Bill and Fleur’s daughter.” She said, smiling as she ran her fingertip over each photograph.





“Don’t you ever think about having children of your own?” He asked, seeing how her eyes lit and her expression softened as she spoke of the children.





“Someday, I would love to have a houseful.” She sighed. “But not until the time is right. What about you, Draco? Do you want your own family one day?”





“I can’t say I have thought about it. I don’t know that I would be a very good parent. I don’t exactly have the greatest model to base fatherhood on.” He said with a dry laugh.





“You seem to be doing fine with Studly.” Hermione said smiling.







“Ah yes…well perhaps I will just make him the next Malfoy heir. Now that would make my father’s head spin, he hates poor Studly because he isn’t pedigreed and beautiful.” Draco smiled. “Of course it doesn’t help that I have trained him to tackle my father and lick his face every time he sees him.”





“Well, knowing your father I am certain that goes over like a….”





“Fart in potions class?” He quipped. She laughed out loud until her eyes watered.







“Oh, Draco.” She sighed.







“Now I really like the way that sounded.” He said softly, his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close to him.





“What do you mean?” She asked, suddenly breathless and hot.





“I like hearing you laugh.” He kissed her brow. “And hearing you sigh my name like that.”







“Draco, why did you come looking for me today? Why are you here now?” She asked, her fingers curling into his shoulders.





“I came looking for you because I just had to see you again.” He whispered. “And I am here now because you asked me to come for dinner, remember?”





“What do you want from me?”





“What do you want to give me?” He brushed his lips against hers lightly, a simple touch, an exchange of breath. “I want to find out what it is about you that is so damned special it has stayed with me for so many years.”





“You can’t mean for us to….date.” She made a tiny squeaking noise when the tip of his tongue stroked over her bottom lip.





“Why not? You’re single, I am single. You are attracted to me and I am damn sure attracted to you. We know we are good together in bed, so why shouldn’t we see if we are compatible in other areas?” He slid one of his hands down to rest at the small of her back, his thumb rubbing small circles over the cotton of her dress. He couldn’t believe the words coming from his own lips but he couldn’t stop them, as soon as he opened his mouth they just burst forth.







“You can’t start a relationship off of a one night stand.” She could smell him, that citrusy scent that had clung to her body long after she had left his bed. She couldn’t resist closing her eyes and tucking her nose against his throat to breathe him in.







“Says who? What we do or do not start is all up to us.” He tilted his head to the side to give her access to his throat. Her nose brushing against his sensitive skin and her hot little breaths had him shivering. “Come on, Granger, take a chance on me.”







“You are going to pop up at some point and tell me this is all a joke aren’t you? You will lure me in, let me fall for you then rip the rug from underneath me and laugh when I fall.” She said as she let her head drop so that her brow rested against the center of his chest.







“Look at me.” He said quietly, waiting until she lifted her face so she could see his eyes clearly. “If that is what I wanted I would have been content to have you leave my bed without a word. Hell if all I wanted was to humiliate you I wouldn’t have made love to you at all. I know it won’t be easy with our history but I am asking you to trust me.”





“You won’t hurt me?” She asked.







“Not on purpose.” He answered just before he lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her softly, his tongue sliding between her lips to lightly lick against hers for a moment before he pulled away. Her eyes were glazed and her lips were plump and moist as she stared up at him.







“My bedroom is upstairs.” She said softly. He smiled and bussed her lips once more.







“Not tonight.” He said, stepping back from her. “Thank you for making me dinner, Granger, it was wonderful.”





“Draco, could you do me a favor?” She asked.





“Already asking for favors?” He laughed.







“Stop calling me Granger…if we are going to do this, I want to hear you call me by name.” She said.







“Oh, we are definitely doing this, Hermione. In fact, I want you to come to the pub Friday night when you get off work. I play with the band on Fridays and I want to see you there. Will you come?” He asked.







“I’ll be there.” She said.







“Goodnight, Hermione.” He said, reaching out to stroke her cheek with a lingering caress.





“Goodnight, Draco.” She walked him to the fireplace and with a last, soft kiss he returned home and left a baffled witch standing in her living room with a head full of questions and a body taut with need.