Hermann/Hermione

Disclaimer: I disclaim.


It was, of course, just as Harry had predicted. Hermione had thrown her arms around Draco’s neck and had been shaking with relief as she pressed against him, breathing in his scent as though she’d never see him again. Once she’d finished cooing over his injuries and reassuring herself that he really was all right and hadn’t been murdered while prowling the streets in the wee hours of the morning, her eyes had narrowed and the righteous fury had begun to bubble. There had been just enough relief mixed in with the rage, he suspected, to keep him from being exiled from her bed that evening.

They were laying together, a heap of tangled limbs and sleep mussed hair, sleeping off the effects of the prior evening.

Hermione’s eyes flew open. “Draco,” she hissed, pushing him away.

He grunted and tightened his arms around her, attempting to pull her back against him.

“Draco, wake up. It’s morning. Pansy will be waiting for you.” She was already out of bed and flying around the room in a mad frenzy.

He sat up, blinking blearily. “Where?”

“The Manor,” she called over her shoulder as she shook out his clothes from the previous evening and set them out for him. “She said she’d meet you there this morning.” She looked up defiantly. “It was obvious that my presence wasn’t desired. I’d go just to spite her, but unfortunately I have my own appointment.“ Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the closet, presumably to get dressed.

Shit.

He hadn’t spoken to or corresponded with Lucius in years. He had no idea what this alleged letter might contain, but it could only be bad news. He knew better than to doubt his father’s ability to make life extraordinarily difficult for “Count Hermann” and for himself. His stomach fluttered uncomfortably as he thought of the possible consequences that Pansy’s interference could hold for Hermione. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache forming there.

He didn’t realize until much later that he’d been too preoccupied to realize that he hadn’t said what she’d be doing that morning.

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The heels of her shoes clicked rhythmically against the wooden stage as Hermione strode into the concert hall. With the confidence befitting a true diva, she greeted the audition committee with a gracious smile and began her first aria.

The change was drastic. Hermione had always been a skilled and polished musician. Now, however, she was utterly enchanting – demanding the attention of every eye ear in the room. She finished her first aria to the same deafening silence to which she’d grown accustomed. After several moments, she lifted her chin and gave the committee a curt nod before turning on her heel.

“Just a moment Miss Granger.” She froze in place, hardly daring to hope as the sound of low, hushed tones drifted across the large hall. Finally, an elderly looking man smiled at her. “We’d like to hear a bit more if you don’t mind.”

She couldn’t contain her grin as she called out the name of her next piece to the accompanist.

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Draco finished reading the letter and wordlessly placed it on the coffee table. Pansy sat across from him beaming with ill-concealed delight as he read the letter from Lucius. She had, naturally, already read the letter, and was well aware that it left Draco with little choice. It was either discontinue all relations with the Count, or be disinherited and relieved of his position in the family business. When Lucius had gone to Azkaban, Malfoy Enterprises was little more than a front for all manner of illicit and illegal activities. Draco had built the company into a legitimate business from the ground up. Pansy was confident that he’d never give that up, and certainly not for some trashy drag queen.

She flashed him a sympathetic smile. “I know how hard this must be for you, Draco. I’m so sorry that it had to come to this.”

Draco snorted. “Yes, because clearly it was inevitable.” He sighed. “Very well. I’ll owl my father with my response.”

Pansy’s smile faltered slightly. “I could just take it for you,” she offered quickly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Making daily visits now, are we? I’ve got to tell you, Pans, that looks a bit desperate, even for you. Surely you can find more appropriate prospects than the inmates of Azkaban.”

An angry flush spread across her cheeks. “Well, seeing as how it involves me, I just thought-“

“That’s where you’re dead wrong. It doesn’t involve you. It never did. This is none of your concern, regardless of the outcome.”

Pansy’s retort was interrupted by the sound of the door bursting open as Hermione marched into the room, trailed by Harry and Ron and glaring daggers at the other woman. She was in full Hermann regalia; hair combed back, tailored suit in place, as she held out a hand silently. Draco passed her the letter. Hermione finished reading and set it on the table, her trembling hand the only sign of her distress. She met Draco’s gaze and saw her own resignation mirrored there. He took her hand and gave a little squeeze.

“You leave us with little choice, Pansy,” he sighed.

Pansy’s smile grew wider. “Draco, you must know that I had only your best interests at heart. You deserve so much more; a woman who will enhance your status and enrich your life,” she recited, looking very much as though she were trying to remember a rehearsed monologue. “I can’t bear to see you throw your life away and sully your reputation by consorting with – “ she paused and looked at Hermione, her smile morphing into a sneer, “him.” Her voice was dripping with disgust as she spat the final syllable.

Hermione’s hand tightened around Draco’s, squeezing his fingers in a vice-like grip. He winced and patted her soothingly with his other hand.

“I assure you, Pansy,” he began with a sneer of his own, “that being seen with the Count can scarcely be worse for my reputation than being seen in your company.”

Pansy sputtered angrily. Hermione bit back a laugh. Draco sank back into the cushions of the sofa, the flush of pink on his pale cheeks the only indication of his extreme aggravation. Hermione stood abruptly, much to the surprise of the other two occupants of the room.

“Follow me, Miss Parkinson.”

Pansy gave a bitter little bark of laughter and remained seated. Hermione stared at her for a moment before marching over to her chair, grabbing her arm, and yanking her into a standing position. Draco watched in wonder as Hermione frogmarched Pansy into the next room with what looked to be a painful grip on her arm, judging from the howls of protest Pansy was emitting. The door slammed behind the two witches and Draco felt the wave of magic hit him as Hermione performed a locking charm.


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Pansy’s eyes widened and she reached for the doorknob, desperately tugging on it. She gave up and settled for flattening herself against the door as Hermione slowly advanced on her with a wicked smile.

“What’s going on?” She demanded weakly. “What are you doing? AH!” She shielded her eyes with her hands as Hermione removed her jacket, tossing it aside with a flourish before tugging at her tie as well.

“I think it’s time that you and I came to an understanding on certain points,” Hermione began, now unbuttoning her shirt slowly. “Feel free to report back to Lucius.”

Pansy peered through a gap in her fingers. Her jaw dropped as Hermione removed the last of her clothing and stood before her, proudly displaying the nude form of Count Hermann. She watched, puzzled, as Hermione turned her wand on herself, murmured the necessary counter-spells, and melted back into herself in a shimmer of magic.

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Outside the room, Harry, Ron, and Draco sat in silence, watching the door with obvious anxiety. At the sound of the first scream, all three wizards leapt to their feet, wands drawn, only to freeze a moment later as the sound of Hermione’s triumphant laughter followed. The door flew off its hinges with a loud bang and Pansy stormed into the room, breathing heavily and snarling with rage.

“You rat!” She hurled herself at Draco, pummeling him with tightly-clenched fists of rage. “He’s a woman! You were cheating on me!”

Hermione strolled through the doorway, dressed in trousers and the now rather snug button-down. “Unhand my…” she paused, looking thoughtful, “my Draco,” she finished decisively. Pansy froze and Draco released the tight grip he’d had on her shoulders, where he’d been holding her at arm’s length.

“You…” Pansy seethed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she answered. “Me.”

Pansy huffed and threw herself down onto the sofa, looking very put-out.

“Really, Pansy,” Hermione began. “It doesn’t change anything. Hermann, Hermione… either way, it’s me,” she finished emphatically with a pointed glare. “Not you,” she added as an afterthought.

Pansy’s furious expression fell, melting into resignation. Her eyes looked suspiciously glassy and Hermione felt an unwelcome pang of sympathy.

“Look,” she sighed, her features softening marginally, “it’s not the end of the world Pansy.” The other woman continued to look distraught and sniffed softly. “It wouldn’t have worked between you and Draco anyhow; he’s much too self-absorbed and irritable for you.” Draco made a noise of protestation and Hermione threw her hand up at him, throwing him a look that dared him to interfere. He huffed in indignation and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at her.

“You need someone who will appreciate you as are,” Hermione continued, apparently unconcerned by Draco’s displeasure. “Not to mention someone who’ll enjoy the task of keeping you in line,” she finished more softly, looking as though she were trying very hard not to laugh.

Pansy stared at Hermione suspiciously, as though trying to ascertain whether or not she was genuine in her concern. Finally, she gave the other woman a watery smile and nodded. “I deserve that,” she said finally, smiling very bravely. “You’re right; I deserve much better than Draco.”

Hermione frowned. “I wouldn’t say- ”

“-it if she didn’t mean it,” interrupted Harry, throwing Hermione a meaningful look. Ron had a sudden coughing attack. His face was hidden by his hands but Hermione could have sworn that she heard maniacal cackling as she watched him through narrowed eyes.

Hermione smiled more kindly as she turned back to Pansy. “I know someone that I think would be perfect for you. Meet us at the club tonight.”

“I’m not feeling much like going to the club tonight, actually,” chimed in Draco from his corner of the room. He was pointedly avoiding eye contact, evidently not yet over his snit.

Hermione regarded him coolly. “It’s important that you’re there tonight, darling.” Her tone of voice made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

“No,” Draco answered petulantly.

“Draco,” Hermione snapped. “You’ll be at the club tonight because I need you there. And I’m sorry that your feelings were hurt by what Pansy said, but clearly I have no problem with your egocentrism and irritable nature.”

Draco stared at her. “Wow, Hermione. That’s big of you, really.”

The slight note of dejection in his voice stopped the biting retort she’d been prepared to deliver. Sighing softly, she crossed the room, moving to where he stood. “Draco.” She put a hand on his cheek, turning his head to force him to meet her eyes. “I mean that I love you,” she said softly, gazing into his grey eyes and willing him to understand. “I love you just as you are; those things are just a part of your charm,” she finished with a smile.

He was silent for a moment, his face impassive. “I am rather charming,” he concurred at last, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a grin.

She rolled her eyes and moved closer, resting her head on his chest as his arms encircled her, squeezing just tightly enough to let her know that he was not as unaffected by her words as he pretended. She heard him mutter something into her hair before he kissed the top of her head. It wasn’t perfect – confessing her feelings in a room with his vengeful ex-girlfriend, who was now looking a bit disgruntled, and her two best friends, who were now grinning like maniacs. It wasn’t perfect, she thought as she let her eyes drift shut and listened to the rhythmic pounding of his heart, but it was still lovely.


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“You do realize,” Draco began, “that it will make no difference to my father whether or not you’re actually a woman. The fact that you’re masquerading as a female impersonator will be enough to condemn you, regardless of your gender.”

Hermione threw him a pitying look. “Draco,” she began, taking a sip from her water glass. Their friends had gone, leaving them to have a quiet dinner together before heading to the club. “Do you honestly think that I’d have given Pansy that ammunition if I’d planned on continuing to perform as Hermann?”

Draco frowned. “I don’t understand. You love singing at the club.”

“Yes, I do.” Hermione beamed at him. “I won’t be giving up the singing part; just the pseudo-drag queen, trashy night club bit.”

His eyes grew wider. “You mean-“

She smiled smugly. “I can give you no details at this time, but I can promise that you’ll want to be at the club tonight.”

After several minutes of demanding, whining, and cajoling, it became clear that she wasn’t going to surrender any information. He sat back in his chair, reeling slightly from this new development. Suddenly, it dawned on him that – regardless of the nature of Hermione’s news – she would no longer be impersonating a female impersonator. His girlfriend would be – in appearance as well as actuality – a girl.

He grinned at her, picking up his fork once more and resuming the task of eating with considerably more enthusiasm than he had been a few minutes ago.

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A/N: All feedback appreciated. :)