Nicest Thing

I found that this song helped with the creation of this chapter. Have to listen to it quite a few times while reading but I really like it.

Molly Jenson ft. Greg Laswell – Give it Time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Q8LVieXR9E


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The secluded town Hermione lived it was currently holding its weekly farmer’s market. She hadn’t been to it in quite a while, being busy with work and all, but she figured now was the only time she could go. When her tiny car rounded yet another corner, she noticed Draco had pulled himself from the wide window with mild pink streaks across his cheeks from the cold wind and was staring straight ahead at the scene.

Tens of twenties of small little booths had been erected in the middle of cobblestoned streets with various colors and patterns of umbrellas and canopies littering the small narrow pathways. The makeshift parking lot of gravel was quickly filled with patrons, as was the streets. Families often frequented the farmer’s market and vendors selling such things as ices, wines, and even balloons were strategically placed.

She parked beside other cars and turned the engine off, unbuckling her seatbelt. Draco immediately tried to move but was jerked back into his seat with a loud grunt.

“Bloody. Fucking. Bugger.” Draco grumbled, tugging at the strap as if he were trying to strangle it to death.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pressed the button on the side, releasing him from its apparent ‘death grip.’ Draco didn’t bother looking at her but hit his head on the low ceiling of the car before getting out. He did, however, let out a low grunted growl and began rubbing his forehead. Having to stifle a laugh, Hermione pulled her keys into her purse before swinging it over her shoulder and turned to look at Draco.

“Remember…” She began but was cut off when Draco raised his hand.

“No magic. No talking about magic. I get it.”

She shrugged and walked over a cement block that was lying forgotten in the small pebbles while Draco followed her. Glancing back at him, she could tell that he felt a little out of place, even if he was trying to blend in. Most of the people dressed very casual, more casual than Hermione, and here he was wearing something that made him look as if he had just gotten out of some fashion shoot. Eyes were already trained on him but he merely sneered in disgust.

“Here,” Hermione offered, stepping in front of him.

She brought her hands to his tie and loosened it, preparing to pull it off but his hands shot up to grab her.

“I’m not embarrassed, Granger. From the looks of it, I’m the one of worth.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and pull her hands away.

He held onto them firmly and looked at her with a cheesy grin, “You embarrassed to be seen with me?”

She snorted, “Now that you mention it…”

“Sod off, let’s get this over with,” Draco interrupted pulling Hermione with him as she cast him a smug grin.

They weaved through the crowds and eventually it was Hermione who was leading Draco. He had gotten stuck between two vendors with very precocious young girls trying to convince him to try their ‘peaches.’ Fingers intertwined, Hermione stopped at a small booth and looked over some fresh produce, picking up an apple and scanning it over. She put it back when she saw a bruise on its red skin and looked over other ones.

“This is boring,” Draco groaned, standing beside her not bothering to untangle his hand with hers.

Neither knew why, or at least Hermione didn’t, but she had told herself it was better to keep him by her. She did fear for the lives…nay the virtue…of a few of the girls in this village.

“If you want to leave, then leave.” Hermione replied, holding out several baskets with her hand as the vendor grabbed them and tallied how much she owed.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

She turned and looked at him, watching the corners of his lips curve up into that famous Malfoy grin. Sneering, Hermione turned her attention back to the vendor and paid but Draco was the one to reach out and grab the bag. He quirked an eyebrow at her as if to silently test her to see if she’d object, but she didn’t.

They made their way through a crowd but before Hermione could loop around she was stopped with a hard jerk. Draco had stopped at a small wine vendor and was currently perusing the selection. Fumbling forward when he pulled Hermione to him, she glared but looked at the selection as well.

“Do you have Chteau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac,” Draco asked the vendor, bringing a finger to his chin to examine the selection.

“Chteau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac!” Hermione hissed, “That’s expensive. I can’t afford…”

“Who said you were paying for everything, Granger?” Draco yet again interrupted her, making her want to grab a bottle, smash it over his head and then gouge his tongue out. But one could only dream.

“You don’t even have any Muggle money,” she snapped, glaring at the vendor for no apparent reason when the man appeared with the bottle.

She nearly stumbled back in surprise when Draco reached his hand into his vest and pulled out a wad of notes. It was only then did she realize that they were holding hands as he had to free his hand to count the money out. Handing it to the vendor, who eyed Draco as if he were the Queen, Draco grabbed the bottle of wine and looked around.

“That’s enough,” Hermione said quietly, trying to pull Draco away as a few people had stopped and begun to watch him.

“I have a nice Chteau Margaux 1995, if you’re interested,” the vendor said eagerly, ignoring yet another scowl from Hermione.

“Chteau Margaux 1995?” Draco asked with a scathing look, “You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s horse piss.”

Hermione clapped her hand over her forehead and felt her face begin to flush. She couldn’t look up at the vendor, afraid what he might look like but Draco didn’t seem to care. He merely rattled on about the finer points of wine, just as a few more people had gathered around.

“Perhaps a fine Petrus Pomerol 1998?” the vendor’s voice broke through Draco’s rant.

“Mm. Not good enough,” Hermione wanted to die at that moment. Carve her intestines out and bury herself in a deep dark hole. She would take being in war against Voldemort than in this situation.

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, feeling his arm wrap around her as she buried her face into his chest, “One bottle of wine…”

“I didn’t bother you when you were buying whatever it was,” Draco replied in a harsh whisper, looking at the vendor, “ 1945 Mouton Rothschild. Do you have a bottle of that?”

“Oh, yes. Yes! Just one,” the vendor said loudly, rushing around his little stand.

Hermione felt Draco’s eyes on her and her face flushed even more when she noticed how they were embraced. Her face embedded into his chest with an arm resting securely around his waist, her hand lightly tugging onto his vest. She scrambled at that moment. Moving like a blur, Hermione pulled from him and smoothed her skirt out, trying to wrestle away another embarrassing red glow. Draco chortled and paid a hefty price for yet another bottle of wine.

“You better not be some sort of alcoholic,” Hermione glowered once they began their loop around the market again.

“Who would have thought,” Draco replied, completely ignoring that statement, “That Muggles had fine taste in wines. Although that portly fool thought he could sway me with Chteau Margaux…You have no clue what I’m talking about do you?”

“I don’t drink, Malfoy.” Hermione said, trying to hide a confused look when he began blabbering about wines. “I mean, not much and even then definitely not something as expensive as what you got. Where did you get Muggle money?”

“Gringotts,” Draco answered with a shrug as they rounded yet another corner and stared absent mindedly at a small vendor who was carving out thick wads of fluffy ice. “What is that?”

Hermione looked at him, her eyes following his and she laughed. “Shaved ice. Want to try one?”

He gave her a look of disbelief, but she could tell the eagerness behind those cold cobalt blue eyes. Hermione felt his hand grab onto hers when she moved in front but didn’t shoo him away. They made their way to the vendor where she spent a few moments glancing over the flavors.

“What flavor do you want?” Hermione asked, watching Draco just stare at the machine that whittled down large chunks of ice into plastic bowls. She rolled her eyes, “Two cherry please.”

Cherry was a safe choice, she thought anyway. Nothing too exotic but sweet enough to capture the whole sense of shaved ices. Draco and Hermione sat at a little table to the side where she couldn’t help but laugh. He looked completely out of place but at ease with the world. It wouldn’t have surprised her that Draco could’ve been stark naked and still maintained dignity in a public place. They ate their ice in silence but she couldn’t help but watch Draco’s curious eyes look at everything.

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Just off the farmer’s market was a nice small beach that Hermione liked to frequent when she had any spare time, which was very little. After finishing their ices, dragging Draco away from pinwheels, buying him an emerald and silver pinwheel, putting their things in her car, where the trunk ‘accidentally’ smashed into the back of Draco’s head, and groaning when a few girls bombarded Draco with their ogling, they settled in a small stroll down the beach.

Hermione had her arms crossed over her chest while Draco had removed his tie and vest, holding onto their shoes in one hand.

“Muggle towns are not quite bad,” Draco finally said, breaking the silent tension in the air, “Nothing beats Wizarding London though.”

“Not everything has to be magic to be fun, Draco.” Hermione said quietly, staring out as the sun began to dip below the horizon. “Believe it or not, witches and wizards can live a life without magic and be perfectly happy.”

“But why would you want to do that?” He looked down at her, “Magic is who we are. Sure you can live in a world without it, but it’d be like being a wizard…or witch…and not enjoying mystery. Does that make sense?”

“No, not really,” she laughed, shaking her head when Draco joined in before they fell into a small silence.

“I had fun.”

They stopped and Hermione turned to him. The faint glow of the falling sun lit up his face, casting perfect shadows over his features.

“I’m glad you had fun,” she said quietly, looking away, “I mean, who wouldn’t when half the female population was throwing their knickers at you.”

“Glad to know that I’m just as attractive in the Muggle world as I am in the wizarding.” He chortled and with the way his shoulders rolled back after each bellow, Hermione couldn’t help but stare and blush a little.

“Smug bastard,” Hermione grumbled, but she had a smile on her face.

“Hermione…” Her name whispered against her, just as she looked up at him she realized how close he was to her.

He brought his hand to her face, tracing it around the back of her head and leaned in. Mere inches from her, their lips burning with fire. She felt her eyelids droop just as his lips brushed against hers. Then it happened. Icy water began falling from the sky and pelted them, ruining what would have been a very sweet kiss, one she wanted. Draco looked around and laughed as they were covered in the frigid stream of water. Grabbing onto her hand, both ran down the beach with one hand trying to cover their heads. It was a poor attempt but a fun one.

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Draco and Hermione sat in her car that was parked beside her cottage for what seemed hours, just laughing. She was dripping wet looked like a mutt but he, he looked bloody brilliant. His hair was plastered to his face, muscles etched into his shirt that clung to him, and she hated to say it but he looked magnificent.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up,” Hermione said quietly looking through her window as the rain fell on the hood of the car.

“Better make a mad dash for it then, or do you think you can keep up?” Draco asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh, you’re on!” Hermione laughed, jostling out of the door before racing to the cottage with Draco behind her.

She made it to the porch first, drenched once more, but this time Draco had spun her around and completely boxed her in with his hands. They panted, laughed, and stared at each other. Water dripped down their faces and chin in solid streams while their breaths lifted up into small clouds of smoke between them. Hermione hand her hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling it rise and fall steadily under her touch. He seemed so calm and collected compared to her, where her chest was moving frantically trying to get oxygen into her system.

What happened next was something she never expected. Then again, expecting things had gone out the window from day one. Draco leaned down and captured her lips, pulling her to him with an arm around her waist. She stood on her toes to meet the kiss feeling her hands slide over his arms and rest lightly on his shoulders. It was only a moment before she found her hands raking through his hair, gripping onto the golden locks between her fingers.

He nibbled on her lower lip, pulling it slightly before replacing his teeth with his tongue. She could only moan into the kiss, feeling her throat catch and her heart stop beating. Stumbling back, Draco’s hand felt around the door for the door knob and swung it open. Hermione pulled him with her into her cottage without breaking the kiss. Just as Draco kicked the door shut with his foot, thunder and lightening erupted into the sky and the shower of icy rain exploded around her little cottage. Neither of them minded one bit.