Hermann/Hermione

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he attempted to quell the rising urge to strangle Pansy. Her whining had steadily increased in volume over the past twenty minutes, and the timbre of her voice was rapidly growing unbearable. He decided that if he heard the phrase "freak show" or "gender-confused hussy" once more, he would willfully allow his thin strand of restraint to snap. The very thought eased the throbbing in his head. He eyed Pansy balefully, willing her to test his patience, but she seemed content with her drink for the moment, sipping it daintily through a straw.

Draco could only hope that Hermione's plan to pawn her off on the mystery man was successful. He eyed Pansy critically. She looked decent enough, he supposed. Pansy had always been attractive, that had never been the problem. But there was only room for so much narcissism and sarcasm in a relationship – Draco and Pansy could never have worked together. They both needed better halves – people like Hermione. Disturbed by the sappiness of this line of this thought, Draco downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.

A snort from his other side drew his attention away her. "What?" he asked curtly.

"Nothing, really," Harry answered slowly, flashing him an infuriatingly easy grin. "It's just, we do make an odd group, don't we?"

Draco grunted. 'Odd group' seemed a tame description of the trio currently seated at the table. Unfortunately, Hermione had been quite explicit in her instructions, and none of them were about to disobey and risk suffering her wrath.

Harry looked past him to wave at someone towards the entrance to the club. Draco turned in his seat and looked up just as the crowds parted to make way for a very pretty woman in a long black gown. He stood up immediately, watching in amazement.

"Hermione," he greeted her softly, feeling very shocked. It had been months since he'd seen her in true form. Several of the glamour charms had been designed to be semi-permanent, and provided that she reverted to her female state at the key moments, he hadn't made a fuss about the details. In truth, he realized that he'd been downright permissive, much to his dismay. She'd finally removed all the charms and glamours, and stood looking every inch the authentic Hermione Granger, wild curls and all. Her dress was simple and stunning – an expensive looking gown that the Count would undoubtedly have rejected, as there wasn't sequin, rhinestone, or feather to be found on the garment.

She was watching him shyly, looking very nervous. He realized that he'd been gaping for quite some time. As he searched for words to tell her how beautiful she looked, how wonderful it was to be in public with his beautiful and quite obviously female girlfriend, they were interrupted by a discreet cough.

Draco was seized by a moment of jealousy when Hermione's face lit up as she pulled a tall dark-haired man into their group. She had ushered him to the empty seat next to Pansy and was already introducing them by the time Draco recognized him and inwardly marveled at Hermione's genius.

"You all remember Ernie MacMillan, don't you?"

Pansy looked him up and down, a calculating expression on her face, before giving him a short nod and looking away quickly. "Of course."

While Pansy and Ernie got reacquainted, Hermione slipped into the seat next to Draco. Picking up the program off the table, he leaned so as not to be overheard.

"You're still on the program for this evening," he murmured into her ear, smiling to himself as she shivered slightly at his proximity. "Unless you're planning on making some big changes in the next," he glanced down at his watch, "two minutes, there are going to be a lot of very disappointed people here. Not to mention several very angry employers."

Hermione smiled enigmatically, reaching for his hand. "Not to worry," she answered. "All taken care of."

"Not to interrupt," Harry said, leaning in towards them, "but have you seen Ron tonight? He said he'd meet us here, but I figured he would've turned up earlier."

Hermione, looking very uncomfortable suddenly, made a noncommittal noise before mumbling something and rising from the table, headed for the bar. Draco and Harry stared after her, identical expressions of suspicion on their faces.

"Was that-"

"Yes," Draco answered before Harry could finish the question. "Extremely odd."

"I thought so. And didn't she seem-"

"Very."

They continued to watch her as she ordered her drink, casting what was probably meant to be a covert glance over her shoulder at them before looking away quickly and pretending she hadn't made eye contact. Draco turned to Harry, frowning. Before he could make a comment, the band struck a chord, drawing everyone's attention to the stage.

The lights dimmed and the curtains parted. The silhouette of a lone person was barely visible, stuffed into what appeared to be an extremely tight dress. The stage lights came up gradually, and Draco suddenly realized, with a surge of glee, just who it was on the stage.

Judging by Harry's sudden grip on the tablecloth, he'd also noted the identity of Hermione's replacement.

"Ron," he whispered, looking stunned.

Ron was indeed onstage, stuffed into a silver sequined costume that looked about to burst if he moved too suddenly. The hemline fell just below his knees, exposing a fair amount of hairy, freckled, leg. A very poorly chosen wig sat awkwardly atop his head, long tendrils of blonde hair swinging freely around his shoulders. His massive feet were crammed into shiny black pumps that had to have been magically expanded several times over.

A shriek of vicious laughter from Pansy distracted Draco temporarily, as he looked over to see Ernie frowning as he whisked her away from the table, apparently headed for the bar. Draco shook his head, setting aside his confusion at the sight in favor of turning back towards the stage.

Ronald was now crooning into the microphone in an outrageous falsetto, batting his eyes shamelessly through thick dark rings of eyeliner and swaying his hips in an obscene parody of a seductive dance. Draco turned to smirk at Harry, who was peeking at the stage through intertwined fingers, blushing furiously, the corners of his lips turned up into a disbelieving smile despite his obvious mortification. Draco twisted further in his chair to seek out Hermione, finding her leaning against the back wall, grinning happily as she watched Ron perform. Further along the wall, Pansy was seated on a barstool, sipping a cocktail demurely and looking bizarrely satisfied under Ernie's watchful eye.

Draco turned his gaze back to the stage, where Ron had begun his final cadenza. It certainly lacked something when sung by a tone-deaf baritone, Draco thought dryly, as he listened to Ron squeal, screech, and roar his way through Hermione's flashy and virtuosic ending. All too soon the lights came up and the audience burst into wild applause, roaring with laughter as they stamped their feet in approval.

Ron's cheeky grin grew impossibly wider as he scooped up one of the roses thrown onstage and tossed it to Harry, who blushed scarlet but smiled fondly up at his lover nonetheless.

"Enjoy the show?"

Hermione's sultry murmur caught his attention as she leaned in, pressing herself against his back and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Immensely." He turned in her arms and brushed a curl from her face, pulling on it teasingly before releasing it and leaning in for a kiss. He doubted that he'd ever tire of having her in his arms, warm, willing, and deliciously pliable under the influence of his kisses.

"So, this means that…" He trailed off, uncertain of how to phrase his question. Had she simply decided to give up the deception? He was loath to ask whether she'd won an audition yet if there was the slightest possibility that the answer would be that she had not.

"That I got another job?" She beamed at him. "It does. You're looking at the newest soprano with the Royal Opera."

"Wow," he replied dumbly, somewhat awestruck. "That's just – congratulations." A vague feeling of anxiety was slowly creeping over him, a seed of doubt that he hadn't anticipated. Their relationship had been sheer madness – he'd only ever dated Count Hermann's female alter ego – a relationship conducted in private and in utmost secrecy. It was probably irrational, he knew, but the real, unaltered, publicly visible Hermione Granger seemed a different matter altogether.

Hermione looked suddenly serious. "Draco," she began softly, smiling sadly, "you aren't under any obligation. Don't look so distraught. It's not as though I did this to rope you in to anything more permanent. I did it for my career."

His mouth was suddenly dry and he thought that he might be having a hot flash. He wondered idly whether love always felt this supremely terrifying. He rather hoped not. He took a deep breath, willing away his anxiety.

"No," he answered abruptly, "you're right, I suppose. I'm under no obligation to you." Her face fell just a little and he quickly continued on, caressing her cheek gently as he spoke. "Just the obligation that a man has to the woman he loves."

She smiled up at him, her dark eyes shimmering with tears, and he couldn't help the foolish grin that spread across his face as his heart swelled with affection and he bent to kiss her once again, more deeply this time.

"Come on," he told her breathlessly as he finally pulled away and smiled wickedly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "let's go offer our congratulations to the new Count."


The End. ♥


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