Dance Floor Jealousy

Disclaimer: This isn\'t mine, don\'t sue!





Author\'s Note: I\'m sorry I haven\'t updated in so long. RL has been a bitch and it\'s really hard to write lovey-dovey stories when you\'re as depressed as I have been lately... so don\'t judge me if this isn\'t exactly what you\'ve expected, if this is too cliché or whatever. I\'m trying my best because I didn\'t want to leave you hanging any longer...





On with the story!!!





Dinner and Decisions





This is Draco\'s P.O.V. again...





5.30 pm.



It is really only 5.30 pm, and I have been ready to go for an hour and a half. The house-elves are avoiding me already because my temper is even shorter than usual.

I can\'t believe I\'m fidgeting this much! For Christ\'s sake, it\'s only a date!!!



Plus, it\'s Granger I\'m taking to dinner. Some years ago, I would have killed you on the spot for telling me that some day, I\'d ask her out. Her. Of all people in the fucking world!!!



Wrong. I\'d have had to kill you. Because it was expected of me. You know, being a Death Eater\'s son and all that.



Calm, Draco. Calm down. That\'s it. Deep breaths. Don\'t think about the past. At least, try not to.



What\'s that? Oh, my diary... Kind of cheesy of me to keep a diary, isn\'t it? Yeah, I know, usually it\'s a girl thing. But at some point, I felt that if I\'d kept it all in, I\'d have exploded. So I started writing a journal. And - I\'ll have to kill you for telling you this - I really cherish the battered little book.





Third year... that punch had hurt! And I\'ve never told her about how I\'d felt afterwards, how I should have been humiliated beyond belief, to a degree that I\'d never want to look my friends in the eye again, but all I felt was the desperate need to see a bathroom...



Fourth year... how hexing her, making her teeth grow past her collar, had actually caused me physical pain and was the first thing ever I\'d deeply regretted... how at the Yule Ball I\'d wanted to kill Krum for dancing with her, while she was looking so damn spectacular that I couldn\'t keep my eyes off her... how the knowledge of her nearby all night had made me so hard that it was inevitable for Pansy and I to shag in a broom cupboard after the dance... how I\'d had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning her name when I climaxed...



Fifth year... how I had taken savage pleasure in making up the Weasley is Our King song, just thinking about how it would infuriate the redhead I hated more than anything for being so close to her all the time... how I\'d shaken with fear the night I knew my father to be in the Department of Mysteries, waiting for Potter and his little group of hero friends to come and get whatever the Dark Lord was after... how I\'d tried to peek through the doors to the infirmary more than once while she was still out cold, hoping and praying that she\'d be alright...



Sixth year... how I wanted more than anything to be believed by this beautiful angel that I didn\'t want to do what I was doing. How I hoped that someone would see the good in me and rescue me from what I was threatening to become...





Had they? Hadn\'t, at some point, it all turned out the way I had wanted it to?



I\'m still not sure...





Glancing at my watch, full of unease and nervous excitement, I realize it\'s 7.15 pm already. Gosh, had it always been that way, that reading could take my mind off everything else? Or had it been the combination of my own memories and the date I was facing?





Apparating to her place, I carefully knock on the door gently. Her name on the name tag is spelled out in elegant letters, burnt into a piece of wood and retraced in golden ink. Always the Gryffindor, I smile - until the door opens and my throat goes dry.





The girl standing in front of me is... perfection. Really. She\'s completely outdone herself. She\'s still Hermione, I can see that, but ... Blimey, has she always looked this beautiful???



Her hair is the same as usual, except that it\'s no longer frizzy. It\'s shiny and silky and twirls down her shoulders in elegant curls. I\'m actually itching to run my fingers through the elaborate waves, but I refrain.

Her face, in all its natural beauty, shines with a fine golden glimmer that might just always have been there. Her eyebrows arch perfectly, to rival my own, actually, and I take lots of pride in my having mastered the eyebrow spell. She wears no lipstick, no eyeshadow, just some dark brown mascara that accentuates her honey-coloured eyes which invite me to forget everything and drown in their depths...

Her legs look endless beneath the pale yellow skirt she\'s wearing which hugs her hips and shows off just the right curves. The black tanktop sets off her pale and smooth skin nicely and I just want to run my fingers - my palms, my nose, my tongue, my everything - over her body...



OK, I definitely need to swallow or I\'m in danger of drooling here. And I haven\'t even greeted her properly!!! What a shame.





"Er, um...", clear your throat, Malfoy, dumbass!!!, "you look fantastic, Hermione. So good to see you. Shall we, then?" I offer her my arm and a small, sexy wink and am astonished when she takes the former and reciprocates the latter.



"Sure, Draco", her voice is soft and almost sinfully low. I swallow hard and close my eyes, forcing me to concentrate hard on the three D\'s essential for Apparition...





Arriving on Neptune\'s front steps, we\'re immediately welcomed by the Maître d\', who leads us to a beautifully decorated table (silver orchids, as I had arranged) in a quiet corner of the elegant restaurant. We order champagne and I ask for the surprise menu d\'amour which causes Hermione to look at me with one eyebrow raised.



"You planning anything special tonight, Malfoy?"

Back to Malfoy again, huh? Ouch. I suppress the wince and take her hand, casually brushing my lips against her knuckles while thinking up a reply.



"Well, you did seem happy to see me, Miss Granger. And if I remember correctly, it was Draco earlier today so please, don\'t fall back into old traditions. I hope you\'ll grant me the chance of showing you that the \'Malfoy\' you thought I was has never actually existed..."



Her eyebrows rise even more, and I let her hand drop with a chaste smile. Taking a sip from my champagne, I desperately try to find an opening for tonight\'s conversation. Earlier, in the Leaky Cauldron, it sure did seem as if she was trying to seduce me just as much as I was her. However, now I\'m not quite so sure. Maybe this really is more than seduction? I had deduced this morning that my heart was making the decisions here. Seduction was no longer the top priority.



Jesus, is this really me? - Blaise would have a fit if he could hear my thoughts now!!!



"Draco", she whispers, as if she doesn\'t really trust her own voice, "you\'ve... hinted something like that in the Leaky Cauldron. That you... that you had been looking for more than what you have. But didn\'t you always have everything one could possibly want? You were the Ice Prince of Slytherin. You were popular amongst your classmates. You had a ... girlfriend..." - her pronunciation of that word was like sour grapes - "... who would have done anything you asked. Hell, who probably did everything you asked. What could you possibly be missing?"



Her eyes are so sincere, and it\'s only then that I realize she\'s right. That is what I must have seemed like all through school. What everybody, every fucking person at Hogwarts, must have thought of me! I clench my teeth tightly, unable to answer without yelling at her for being deceived by this mask I had been forced to wear for so long.



Her beautiful eyes search mine, she smiles as if trying to encourage me to answer her. Still unable to form words, I manage to smile back and am contemplating whether or not to reach for her hand when the waitress interrupts my thoughts by serving the first course. I thank the girl politely, accept another glass of champagne and nod to Hermione, who is obviously waiting for both my go-ahead with the food and an answer.



"Enjoy, Hermione. They say Neptune serves the best tomato cream soup in all of Britain!", I give her the former, my mind still working on the latter. I\'m halfway through my soup when I decide it\'s now or never.



"You know, Hermione", seems like I\'m getting quite used to her name, "of course everybody back at Hogwarts thought I was little Prince Charming. I liked to believe it myself for quite a while. When I was at Hogwarts, I acted like I was somebody. And maybe I was - I don\'t know. Some people - and you did name them quite accurately! - acted like the sun shone out of my ass at night. But what I really was... which nobody, except Blaise who was my best friend, ever knew... I was a puppet. My strings were pulled by my parents who, though they made it look like they loved me and cared about me dearly, sent me instructions on how to behave around everybody by owl post every fucking day.



"Of course, being a trusting little boy of 11, I still told my parents all about the people in my year. About Potter, about his friends. About you, whose grades were always just a tad better than mine. Did you know, do you have any idea, what that meant to me, to my parents?"



She follows my words with rapt attention, the soup on her spoon long forgotten, her mouth slightly ajar. Does she realize what will be next? I don\'t know, so I drop my own spoon and continue,

"Did you ever realize that I had never insulted you as openly as I used to later before the beginning of our second year? "



She nods slowly, her eyes wide as saucers.



"You have no idea what my parents did to me when I came home only second-best of the year. It\'s... I can\'t even tell what they did. They were furious. The more so, I think especially because it was you who had beaten me. That it was Potter, Weasley and you who helped Gryffindor win the House Cup after all. It was... not pleasant to be a Malfoy that summer. I was treated worse than our house-elf, and we both know that you know how horribly Dobby was treated. We both know the clever scheme my father had thought up for you to disappear during second year.



"I only did what I knew, Hermione. I acted all through school, I always played the role that was expected of me. Do you remember Snape pushing me up to face Potter in that Duelling Club?"



She nods, still following every word with rapt attention. Her honey eyes are watery by now and she\'s not fighting the tears.



"Snape was under orders from my parents, I know that now. My father had wanted to make sure that I behaved as was expected from the Malfoy heir. It was during that year that I finally gained the title of the Ice Prince. Playing on the Slytherin Quidditch team. My father was so angry when I didn\'t catch that Snitch... Pretending, in front of the whole school, in that corridor next to Moaning Myrtle\'s bathroom, that I thought nothing of Mu... of muggle-borns and their kind. Everybody wanted me to fight for what I was supposed to be. To confront Potter. Confront you. It..."



I looked into her watery eyes and forced myself to continue.



"I hated it. I hated being that awful kid. Maybe I already knew then that I wanted you - all of you, the entire Golden Trio! - among my friends. My father had told me early on that one was supposed to befriend those one couldn\'t fight. But here he was, there they all were, expecting me to do just the opposite.



"At the end of second year, when you didn\'t show up for classes and the Quidditch match was canceled... I hardly slept that night because I was so afraid that their clever schemes could have worked, that they could have succeeded. But then you reappeared for the Leaving Feast, and - I\'m sure you\'ll guess by now - my scowl was not to comment your presence, but to hide the silly grin of relief that would otherwise have showed on my face..."



Hermione has reached for my hand, she squeezes it gently before letting go when the waitress comes to remove the cold leftovers of the soup and to serve the entree. We both look at our plates - it\'s cantaloupe wrapped in fine Italian prosciutto - and simultaneously reach for the first piece, savouring the exquisit taste. Yes, we did make a good choice coming to this place tonight.



Suddenly feeling confident, I reach for Hermione\'s hand again and run my thumb over its back gently. She is still chewing her cantaloupe, but it\'s obvious that she wants to comment on what I\'ve told her so far, so I wait, smiling at her patiently.



"You know, Draco", her voice is slightly hoarse but she controls it easily, "I never thought you\'d actually admit that you were nothing but somebody\'s tool. It\'s what I\'ve expected all along, and I often wondered if you really meant what you said. Of course I never told anyone, but there was often this really sad look in your eyes, and I often wondered if it was from being beaten or from feeling obliged to act the way you acted..." She sighs and looks off into the distance, reaching for another bite of cantaloupe.

"Sometimes I feel it\'s the same with me. I\'m always expected to be the good one, the smart one, the tough one, the one to know the answers to everything. Well, big surprise. I\'m not. I don\'t have the solutions half the time. It\'s only stuff from books one can memorize that I\'m good at. I wonder... there has to be so much more to life than that..."



I\'m still holding her hand, my thumb still brushing across it ever so gently, but now I stop and squeeze it tightly.

"There IS more than that, Hermione. I know it. In fact... I knew in third year, when you punched me in the face..."



Oh, damn, there\'s actually a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth now! Darn. I still notice Hermione wince, and I chuckle.

"It\'s nothing bad, you know! In fact, what I did realize then was how much it thrilled me to have physical contact with you. It thrilled me to know that you were not just brainy and smart, but damn HOT as well! Man, you don\'t even know how badly I... never mind", I break off abruptly, blushing. I would almost have told her about the enormous hard-on that punch had given me!!! Merlin, what\'s the world coming to???



She\'s blushed, too, and she\'s looking down at her plate as she mumbles, "I\'m sorry I hit you, Draco. But I was just so frustrated with you! I have often wondered what made me touch you, and I don\'t know. But it felt good. No, that\'s an understatement, it felt bloody brilliant. I even told Ron and Harry, you can ask them... though I\'m sure, they interpreted it differently", she adds with a coy smile. I grin back at her and realize only then that we\'ve been holding hands for almost the entire time we\'ve sat in the restaurant. I like it a lot.



We toast each other with more champagne, and, feeling a tad lightheaded from all the alcohol, I continue my confession.

"At the Yule Ball, I felt ready to kill Krum for being that close to you. Yeah, I know I\'d hexed you only days before, but... again, that wasn\'t me, you know what I mean? It was what everybody expected from me. I\'ve never felt so guilty in my entire life when I saw you run from Potions crying... I\'m so sorry..."

I clear my throat before I go on.

"So, you and Krum... and you looked so beautiful in your dress robes! I wanted to cry, I wanted to hex Krum into the next millennium, I wanted to be him so badly it hurt. Physically. Do you remember I was dancing with Pansy? Naturally, I had no choice but to insult you and sneer and mock you all night long. I also had no choice but to get completely trashed. Theo and Greg had organized some firewhiskey... we spiked our punch with it. At the end of the dance, when all the couples had moved close to one another and many had already disappeared to God knows where, I saw you snuggled up in Krum\'s arms, watched him kissing your forehead. The thought of that being me, of you pressed up against me, of your scent in my nose, your perfect body in my arms... it made me so hard I ached! Pansy noticed, of course, and thinking this was all about her, she dragged me off to some broom cupboard to \'relieve my pressure\', as she put it.



"Of course, me being a randy 14-year-old, I barely thought much about it. I had my first time with Pansy in that broom cupboard, and though it was rushed and awkward and very, very uncomfortable, I had to stop myself from calling a name at climax, cos it would have been yours..."



She swallows, looking at me with wide eyes, obviously shocked by the intimacy of what I\'m telling her. I fight the urge to blush but fail, so I continue, pretending everything is just normal.

"In fifth year, do you remember that Weasley Is Our King song I made up? I admit I never considered how much it would hurt you as well... I just took savage pleasure in inventing a song which served directly to hurt and insult that piece of redhead crap that spent all his goddamn time with you. I was jealous, Hermione, and I don\'t think even I knew it. It was all so strange... the Dark Lord having returned, I was expected more than ever before to act the part of the perfect Death Eater son. Of course, I tried my hardest, joining the Inquisitorial Squad and everything. But it didn\'t work. And later, when I learnt what you and the rest of the DA had faced at the Ministry, and that you were still out cold after that curse from Dolohov, I snuck up to the infirmary the very night you\'d returned there, hoping beyond hope that I\'d be able to catch a glimpse at you through the doors. Of course I didn\'t, and luckily nobody ever got wind of the fact that I\'d tried... it would have meant the end of me, as the incident at the Ministry had meant the end of my father. All that was left to me was the part of acting a Death Eater...



"I was terrified out of my wits at the beginning of sixth year. I knew that Potter was onto me, that he\'d guessed what I was doing, and I also knew - having bought some of the Weasley twins\' Extendable Ears - that you kept arguing against his theory of me having joined the Death Eaters. Of course you were wrong in essential - I had had no choice but to join up and try to make up for my father\'s mistakes, which, naturally, I never could. It was like I was destined to fail. Knowing that your belief in me was so strong, it kept me up every night, on the rare occasions that I would have had time to sleep, praying that somehow you, the angel that you truly are, would find a way to rescue me..."



I blink; my eyes are full of tears, as are hers. They\'re rolling down her cheeks, but since she\'s wearing so little make-up, they leave nothing but wet traces on the smooth skin. She\'s holding my hand, stroking her thumb across my flesh affectionately.



"Draco", she whispers, her voice hoarse and thick with emotion, "I always knew you could do better. I know you wouldn\'t have killed Dumbledore. I know what happened; Harry told me, Harry was there. I believe you. You see...



"I\'ve always fancied you, I guess. When you were a little arrogant boy, I wanted to show you that being pureblood wasn\'t all that mattered, even in the Wizarding world. Of course, it didn\'t work - and I\'m sorry I gave you such a hard time with your parents! When you hurt and insulted me in second year, I think it all but made me try harder to show you that we were, in fact, equal people. I\'ve grown up learning that everybody, whether male or female, black or white, wizard or Muggle, deserves to be treated the same. These ideals are pretty American, that\'s probably because my parents have taken a real liking to their idea of a democracy. Anyway, I\'ve always thought we were self-made people. I\'ve always thought that if I studied hard enough, I\'d prove to everybody that blood didn\'t matter...



"It didn\'t work out, obviously it didn\'t. I was part of the Golden Trio, yes, but as I\'ve said, I was - and sometimes still am! - kind of their brains. It\'s like they don\'t even feel the need to bother thinking about stuff because hey, Hermione\'s there to solve this. In fact, the only time I haven\'t argued their case was in sixth year when I decided that you weren\'t a Death Eater. I still believe you weren\'t, at least not really. You don\'t have the Dark Mark, do you?"



Interest shows in her eyes as she scans my left forearm, as if she\'d be able to X-ray it and look through my dark green button-down shirt sleeve. Looking a little startled at all the confidence she\'s showing me, I disentangle my hand from hers and slowly open the button at the wrist, exposing the smooth pale skin of my inner forearm. It\'s unblemished and white, not even scarred as much of my back is after all the beatings I\'ve received as punishments in the past.



I look into her eyes which are practically glowing. She\'s probably not even aware of the fact that her tongue\'s darted out and she\'s wet her lips.



"Thank you", I whisper, "for believing. I guess... sometimes, when we tear down the walls behind which we\'ve hidden for so long, we\'re surprised to see that we\'re actually looking into a mirror..."



Our cantaloupe has long been forgotten. The waitress serves the main dish, roast duck with orange sauce, and we both seem to be pulled back to earth by this completely unromantic intermezzo. I order some wine with the food, and as the waitress leaves and I wonder where to best pick up again, I feel a small, soft hand reaching for my own again.



"Draco", Hermione\'s voice is soft and very gentle. "I know you\'re an incredibly emotional person. It\'s probably due to the fact that you\'ve had to hide your emotions for so very long. And I\'ve always been sure there\'s more beneath the surface that you just wouldn\'t show. Of course, I now know that you were never allowed to show it and to express what you really want. But now you may, and I think you should. I\'m here for you, and I\'m very much looking forward to getting to know the real you."



At that, she lifts her other hand and touches my cheek, softly stroking it while giving me an encouraging smile. I catch her hand with mine, pull her palm to my lips and press a tender kiss against it.

"I\'m at your service... anytime...", I whisper, taking a deep breath to keep from shouting out with joy. Could it really be happening that Hermione Granger is asking me to share even more of myself???



We eat the rest of our dinner no longer talking about serious stuff, but mostly small talk. What have we done since graduation, what are we planning to do, where have we been, who are we in touch with. It turns out she\'s the only one left from her circle of friends to be single, which I can\'t believe. There\'s so much beauty, so much perfection about this woman that I\'m actually, for once, willing to put myself in second place. That has never happened before. I\'ve always considered all the girls I went with fortunate to be getting a piece of the famous, incredibly good-looking, unbelievably sexy Draco Malfoy. This time it\'s different. I now consider myself fortunate that an angel like her is willing to spend time with me, touching and flirting and offering me the time of my life.



After dessert, we are both a little tipsy from all the champagne and the wine, I offer my hand to help her stand and almost instantly pull her flush against my body, hugging her as if my life depends on it. It might, actually, who would know?



"Thank you so much for a wonderful evening", I manage while I\'m still holding her close, breathing in her scent and fighting for my eyes to stay open. "I can\'t even tell you how much it means to me that you, of all people, understand... Do you think we can see each other again?"



She pulls back a little so that she can look into my eyes, which I know are darkened with emotions and - I do admit - lust. There is a look of incredulity on her face, and the hint of a smile pulls up the corners of her mouth as she asks, "coffee at my place?" before giving me a wink and taking me with her on Side-Along Apparition into her flat.







Author\'s Note Again:

I can\'t believe I did it! Yay - another chapter finished!!!



OK, you\'re probably still missing the smut, are you? We\'ll get there, I promise. Next chapter sound good? ;-) Any suggestions as to what you want to happen next?



Thanks again to all my reviewers. No story of mine has ever received this many reviews; I\'m absolutely flattered. You guys are awesome!!!

gabby1234 if you\'re still with me, I hope this chapter classifies as nice and long and having them talk about the past at dinner... ;-) I\'ll probably go more into detail on Hermione\'s P.O.V. in one of the next chapters as well.



nonentitiy they\'re not major wrinkles, just little ones. And yes, you can have them at 25 as well. I get proof of that every time I look into a mirror... :-(



emz0008 I\'ve tried writing 3rd person fics but I like it better writing in 1st person. I feel it gives the whole thing a more personal touch. I might try another fic in 3rd person sometime, but for this one I\'ll stick with the 1st person and hope you understand the reasons for that.



To all the other reviewers, thank you so much for your responses! And sorry again I left you hanging and waiting for so very long. I\'ll try to be better, I promise ;-)



Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Is it totally overdone? I\'m aware of the fact that Draco is OOC, but I believe the War will have turned him into a very different person from how he was like in school and I actually like the idea of him being the victim of his crazed-up parents. If only I could spend one night with the Draco of my dreams... I swear I\'m purring at the very thought *lol*