Tin Angel

Post Hogwarts: A chance encounter with Hermione Granger in a Muggle café leaves Draco Malfoy aching for more. D/Hr with mentions of BW/Hr, H/G, and R/L. Disregards the events of HBP and DH.





Disclaimer: If I were J.K. Rowling I would be snug in my Scottish castle using my seven finished novels as a footrest while eating ice cream, instead of relocating for the 5th time in 2 years and taking over a year to update my stories. Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter, and am still in negotiations about that castle.









Tin Angel







* * * 9 * * *







“No, I can’t really say I’ve had much opportunity to… eh… rustle up cattle.”



“Well, you should give it serious consideration the next time you plan a holiday,” Luna replied warmly, biting back a giggle and turning her head to the basket of colorful knit hats she was poking through. Malfoy stood next to her, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shifted nervously on his feet and scanned the throngs of Camden Market shoppers for Hermione.



“The fresh air, the horses, the beans, the little cow babies…” Luna continued, pulling a shockingly violet hat from the pile and looking at it thoughtfully, “its really all quite invigorating. One’s legs do get rather sore after riding horses for so long… May I borrow your head for a moment?” she interrupted herself, holding up the hat and gesturing for him to bend over so she could reach him. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at her, and Luna felt certain he was fighting a willful battle with himself not to scowl before slowly bending his head toward her.



She stuffed the violet hat over his pale hair, and stepped back to consider him, “But they do sell these marvelous leather trouser coverings for horse-riding, and really they are worth the expense. After our trip, Ron and I found ever so many opportunities to use them creatively in the bedroom seeing as they don’t cover up one’s private bi… “



“Luna,” Hermione laughed, reappearing from the crowd with a small shopping sack and looking highly amused at the expression of horror on Draco’s face coupled with the thick knit hat of electric purple shoved on his fair head, “I don’t know if he’s quite ready to be so intimately acquainted with Ron’s… habits. Frankly, I’m not sure I am either.”



“Indeed, I’m quite satisfied with a superficial understanding of Weasley’s activities in the world. Player of quidditch, eater of food, friend of Hermione; more than enough for me.” Malfoy added hastily, shifting to stand closer to Hermione, who smiled at him.



“I think the color is fine for Draco, but it’ll clash horribly with Ron’s hair,” Hermione said, turning to the bin of hats and pulling out a dark green one, “And we should probably be trying to butter him up. He looks great in green.”



Luna nodded thoughtfully and took the hat from Hermione, examining it closely, “I think you may be right. Although, if you ever incline your strategy towards blackmail, I know a number of stories that would turn him a horrifying shade of fuchsia,” she offered pleasantly.



“And risk him turning his wraith on you? I’m touched, Luna.” Hermione smiled.



“Oh, I can handle Ron just fine.” Luna replied serenely.



“A tempting offer, Lovegood.” Malfoy smirked, pulling the hat from his head and tossing it back on the pile, “If I change my mind, I’ll owl you.”



Luna turned to pay the owner of the hat stall, watching out the corner of her eye as Malfoy and Hermione wandered into the next stall, Malfoy’s hand resting on the small of Hermione’s back. She smiled to herself when Malfoy leaned into Hermione, brushing a kiss across her temple before reaching down to the little plastic sack to see what she had bought.



He’s really bloody gorgeous, Luna thought, handing a few coins to the stall owner. Clean and sharp, and long and lean, and a subtle, delicious smell if you stood close enough to him.



Which Luna had done frequently in the last few hours.



She’d been amusing herself all afternoon by finding ways to cut through Malfoy’s cool, smooth demeanor and throw him off his guard, leaving him shifting awkwardly and at a loss for words.



Probably a good thing too for Hermione’s sake, Luna mused. What with the way Malfoy was constantly staring at Hermione, teasing her, subtly flirting with her, and with such a burning intensity it really ought to have set the girl aflame. To Luna’s delight, Hermione held her own quite well with Draco, matching him wit for wit with light mocking and affectionate teasing. Luna had long stopped bothering trying to keep up with the steady stream of subtle snark and innuendo that passed between the pair in the hours since the three of them had met for lunch at a little Muggle place off Camden High Street.



Hermione had owled Luna as soon as she’d portkeyed back to London from Marrakech and the two friends had met for lunch the following day. Luna had walked into the restaurant solemnly, dreading a tearful confession that Hermione would be dropping Malfoy, yet hoping for a tearful confession that she was going to tell Harry and Ron to stuff it. However, one look at her friend’s flushed glowing complexion and Luna had ordered a bottle of wine and insisted on details.



Hermione had blushed prettily and told her that Malfoy had spent the entire week with her in Marrakech. While she went to meetings for work in the mornings, he had lazed about in bed, dozing and sending owls to his secretary for several hours, waiting until she returned in the early afternoons and then tugging her onto the cool cotton sheets. They’d made love for hours, eventually emerging out onto the streets of the city in the late afternoon to browse the markets and find street food. Every night they’d go out for drinks at one of the many posh bars that dotted the city before returning to the hotel for more lovemaking, eventually succumbing to sleep in a sweaty tangle. Luna had smiled knowingly and fanned her menu at Hermione’s flushed cheeks, making her laugh and bat it away.



It had been nearly a month now since that trip, and this was the first time Hermione had convinced Malfoy to go out with them. It didn’t surprise Luna that Malfoy would be so hesitant to meet her. Hermione’s absence at Weasley brunch for the last four weeks had been enough to clue in Harry, Ron and the rest of the family to her decision regarding the blonde scourge of their childhood, and there had been little communication besides a few tense owls. Luna herself was his one potential ally in that regard, and she found it understandable if he was nervous to muck it up with her as well.



“So Malfoy, Hermione tells me you’re tagging along to Abu Dhabi with her next week,” Luna mentioned lightly, cornering him again as Hermione wandered ahead to look at a table of silver jewelry, “This is the third trip you two have been on in the last month. Lucky you to be able to drop everything on a whim and portkey off around the world. How does one get your job?”



“Pure karma, I assure you, Lovegood. Tease little girls about their hair, pinch unattractive babies, and find yourself a bunch of redheaded gits to mock and belittle for a few years. Everything everyone else wishes they had the stones to actually do. Life’s riches will start rolling your way in no time.”



“The red-headed gits part should be easy, but I don’t know many ugly babies. I suppose I’ll have to stick to my boring day-to-day,” Luna sighed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. “I don’t think Hermione’s been to Abu Dhabi before. What do you plan to do when you get there?”



“I’m not certain. Pillage, perhaps.”



“The city or Hermione?” Luna asked, her eyes wide and thoughtful as she looked up at him.



Malfoy snorted at that comment and grinned, “Likely the latter, but if I indulge in the former I’ll be sure to bring you back something pretty.”



Smirking over his shoulder at Luna, Malfoy walked over to the table where Hermione stood examining a number of dainty necklaces with a tiny four-leafed clovers set under glass.



Luna liked the way Malfoy’s fingers absently twirled one of the loose curls at the nape of Hermione’s neck, pleased to see that he could hardly keep his eyes or hands off her for very long. She was more than satisfied that he had more than just a passing fancy for her sweet friend.



If she thought about it, she really didn’t know what Bill had been like early in his relationship with Hermione. The two of them had taken up with each other not long after Hermione had been transferred to Egypt on her first international assignment for Gringotts. It was six months into their relationship before any of the family had any concrete knowledge of their dating, and then only because Bill had decided to move back to London and had asked Hermione to join him.



Not that there hadn’t been light-hearted speculation. Bill’s letters home had initially been laced with a bit of annoyance that they expected him to keep an eye out on one of Ron’s little mates from school when she started a new post to expand Gringott’s Egyptian operations. It had been mere weeks before the letters that came home were full of mentions of ‘Mione’ and what marvelous thing she’d done at work, or funny story she’d told him, or brilliant book she had him reading. Desert treks on camelback, elaborate cooking experiments in Cairo, and a trip to Alexandria just to see the library had raised eyebrows at the Burrow, but more in jest than seriousness. Though they were all, of course, terribly fond of her, she was quite a few years younger than Bill and not his usual type.



When they’d returned to England together, Bill had unceremoniously announced that they were together, implied that it was quite serious and that was that. They had already settled comfortably into their relationship months earlier. The Weasley clan were amused and generally pleased, making a few comments amongst themselves about how well they suited each other in temperament and intellect, and how glad they were that Bill had picked a girl they actually liked; the family then refocused their attention on the impending birth of Ginny and Harry’s second child.



Luna sighed to herself as she watched Malfoy hand a few notes to the jewelry seller, then pick up one of the little necklaces and slip it around Hermione’s neck, tracing a finger along her collarbone and fingering the tiny clover pendant where it rested in the hollow of her clavicles.



If only the Weasley’s were as accepting of Hermione’s current relationship, Luna thought, frowning a bit as she thought of what awaited her tomorrow morning.



Sunday brunches at the Burrow had been consistently unpleasant. Instead of spending an enjoyable morning chatting with Hermione, Luna was forced to endure hours of Ginny fussing over her children and detailing the various aches and pains in her body as her belly expanded with the newest young Potter. Harry himself had been brooding and quiet, usually complaining of a headache and heading home early, while the twins alternated between telling wildly inappropriate stories and whispering loudly to themselves about comical ways they might welcome Malfoy to the family. Luna suspected this was really an effort to goad Bill, whose irritability and snappishness had seemed immune to even Fleur’s placations.



Malfoy and Hermione were far better company, she thought, watching them wander in and out of a number colorful, gauzy scarves that were strung on lines crisscrossing a corner of the market. Luna paused, picking up a dusty volume of Muggle mythology, and paging through it while trying not to outright stare as Malfoy tugged Hermione into a quiet corner to give her a brief, heated snog.



* * *



Draco did not like the way Blaise was staring at Hermione.



Bastard.



As though she were a particularly rare cut of Porterhouse.



Scattered with a handful of diamonds.



Served on a platter of galleons.



His best friend sat across the table from them, eyes fixed hungrily on his girlfriend, as though he couldn’t make up his mind whether he’d rather eat her or shag her.



Draco ground his teeth a bit, and shifted his chair so he could casually slip his arm around Hermione’s back, hand resting lightly on her hip. She glanced at him and gave him a small smile, before turning back to her conversation with Jo Nott, who, along with Lenore Pucey and Adeline Warrington, was insisting to Hermione that she and Draco ought to join them all for their annual getaway to a resort in Phucket.



“It’s just heavenly. You’ll adore it.” Jo sighed dreamily.



“We usually block off their best suites of rooms for two weeks in late August.” Adeline put in, “The place is wonderful. Quiet and overlooking the water. All the beaches are pristine. Private, of course.”



“Of course.” Hermione said, smiling.



“And the chef is top-rated. You won’t find better dishes in all of Thailand,” added Lenore, “Adrian’s parents spend winters there, and they have a gorgeous sailboat. We go out on the water nearly everyday.”



“Draco says you’ve been. Where do you usually stay?” Jo asked.



“Um, well in Phucket I usually stay in one of the little locally owned places. They have these lovely little cabanas right on the beach.”



“Local?”



“Yes. They’re very simple, but it’s easier to build relationships in regards to my work if I’m staying more in the community. Which has been great really. I like trying the local foods, and if you make the right friends, they’ll take you to all the hidden places most tourists never get to see.”



“That sounds wonderful. It’d be refreshing to try something new this year. You could show us, if you come.” Adeline said sweetly, “Oh please do come!”



Draco tuned out their conversation, and returned his focus to Blaise who was discussing the Arrows upcoming match against the Cannons with Teddy, Adrian Pucey, Chase Warrington and Graham Pritchard. Despite his cool insistence that the Arrows would slaughter the Cannons 10 to 1, he never took his gaze off Hermione. Draco took a slow sip of his wine, directing his coldest glare in Blaise’s direction, but his dark friend paid him no mind.



Wanker.



Apart from Blaise’s unwanted attentions, the dinner seemed to be going very well. It had been nearly a month now since Draco had returned from Marrakech with Hermione, and tonight was his first attempt at taking her out with any of his friends besides Jo and Teddy Nott. Jo, who’d been immediately fond of Hermione, had assured him that the others would be on their best behavior. They all knew who she was, of course, and since they’d seen the pictures of the two of them in the society pages of The Prophet, they’d all been anxious to meet her.



He’d sent out dinner invitations to his close friends via owl earlier in the week, and not a single one of them declined. He’d had his secretary set up reservations at a posh restaurant in an elegant corner of Diagon Alley and they were all here now, chatting and watching himself and Hermione with barely disguised curiosity as they made their way through several courses of dinner. Draco wasn’t entirely surprised. It was rare that he dated women for any length of time, and even rarer that he subjected any of his friends to them. And of course, Hermione Granger was Hermione Granger. They didn’t need to be told the implications of dating her.



Hermione laughed at something Adrian Pucey said to her, and Draco did his best to stifle the look of affection that threatened to overtake his face. She was so terribly lovely, he thought, admiring the way her elegant dress dipped low along her back.



The last month had been splendid. He’d seen her nearly every day, taking her out to dinner or staying in to cook; they went to the cinema, to plays, he’d taken her out dancing several times, and other days they’d simply found a quiet table at a café and read their respective books. He’d also reworked his schedule so that he could accompany her on the last three trips she’d made for Gringotts. They’d spent a long weekend in Paris, four days in Istanbul and another four in Osaka. The day after tomorrow they were leaving for five days in Abu Dhabi. Blaise could have cared less about Draco’s absences. He ran a tight ship, and could suffice with owl communications while Draco was ‘indulging himself with the Granger girl” as Blaise had put it.



He was glad to see Hermione enjoying herself with his friends. Her own friends had been the one dark cloud over the last few weeks. There had been a few curt owls from Harry, Ginny and Ron in particular, and Hermione had been reluctant to fulfill her Weasel brunch obligations. When Sunday mornings rolled around she’d sigh and curl into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Pleased to keep her out of the Burrow and in his bed, Draco would soothe her with soft kisses and whispered words, until she was practically mewling in his arms, and then he’d fuck her, slow and lazy.



Lovegood was the only one of those damned Weasley\'s to stick by her, dismissing her husband’s protests and meeting with Hermione frequently for lunch. Yesterday was the first time he’d worked up the nerve to meet her, knowing she was his best chance at making what would eventually be essential headway with those Weasels. Despite finding her somewhat… odd, he’d like the moony blonde woman, and was pleased to find her fiercely loyal to Hermione.



Stupid Gryffindors. Loyalty his arse, Draco thought, watching his own friends take so easily to her. Of course it didn’t hinder their amiability knowing that she was close to wizarding society’s golden boy or that she was well connected to the press and the ministry, or that, of course, Draco was likely to hex their balls off if they gave her a hard time. Still they seemed rather charmed with her in general. They’d been slightly late for their reservation and their waiter had been a horrid prick. Fed up, Draco had been ready to give the sour lad a piece of his mind, when Hermione had laid a calming hand on his knee and turned to give the waiter a dazzling smile. They’d all watched in awe as she charmed the waiter’s socks off, had him nearly hysterical telling stories of some of his most atrocious customers, and bringing out extra dishes, compliments of the chef.



“Where in the bloody hell did you learn to do that, Granger?” Blaise had asked bluntly, and all present had turned to her, awaiting her response.



“I’m sure you must recall Harry and Ron’s frequent shenanigans in school,” Hermione had said simply, “Try spending seven years trying to keep those two rascals out of trouble. Eventually a girl becomes quite good at improvisational persuasion.”



They’d all seemed to accept that response, and had enthusiastically engaged her in conversation as the evening progressed. Draco gave her waist an affectionate squeeze and turned to try to lose himself in the quidditch conversation, taking a 50 galleon bet from Warrington against the Arrows.



“Granger,” Blaise said suddenly, his voice cool and smooth as he slowly crossed his arms on the table and leaned toward her, “I’ll give 5,000 galleons to the charity of your choice if you’ll have dinner with me.”



Draco felt Hermione made a sort of startled movement next to him as his own blood turn to ice and his fists clenched tightly around his dinner napkin. Draco stiffly moved to stand, his gaze fixed stonily on Blaise, but the dark man casually waved him down, keeping his eyes steadily on Hermione.



“Calm yourself, Malfoy.”



Draco sputtered unintelligibly, brain still not quite functioning properly, but Blaise cut him off.



“I expect you to be there as well.”



“What are you on about, Zabini?”



The others at the table had halted their conversations, watching them with quiet interest and continuing to sip at their drinks.



“Three weeks from now. We have another dinner with the bastards at Keating. I want her to come and use that charming mouth of hers to help us smooth out this deal.”



Understanding began to dawn on Draco and he turned to look at the girl beside him with interest as well, as Blaise went on.



“Think about it, Malfoy. Old Keating hates you and he hates me, but he’ll adore her. She’ll have him eating out of her palm in fifteen minutes flat. And for your services, Ms. Granger,” Blaise said, smiling slightly, “a cool 5,000 galleons to whatever humble cause tugs at your heartstrings.”



“You’re a fucking genius, Blaise, and I’m a fucking genius for hiring you.” Draco muttered, smiling and admiring the pretty witch sitting next to him.



“And why ever would I want to convince some poor old bloke to trust the two of you?” Hermione said, leaning back against her chair, narrowing her eyes shrewdly at Blaise.



“They really are bastards,” Draco said quickly, “Their goblin section is vastly underpaid, for one. Some of the worst salaries in London, and I know for a fact that old man Keating still keeps a horde of unpaid house elves…”



“It will make us vast amounts of money.” Blaise said, cutting to the chase, “And it will give us an excellent opportunity to evaluate you as a consultant for our annual charitable distributions. They are quite generous, if you are not aware.”



“Indeed.” Hermione replied. She sat there quietly for a moment, examining Blaise who held her gaze steadily. “Ten thousand.”



“Come again, Granger?”



“Ten thousand galleons to the charity of my choice, and I’ll see to it that this Keating chap is happy to do anything that suits your fancy.”



“Done.” Blaise agreed, flashing Hermione a rare grin, before signaling to the waiter to bring several more bottles of wine to the table.



Draco slipped his arm back around his lovely little witch, pleased to feel her relax against him as she began to chatter with Graham about Muggle skiing. He breathed in the light smell of Hermione’s curls and looked round the table at his friends. Maybe it was the wine, or the fresh prospects of the Keating deal, or the happy din of conversation of his friends gathered round the table, or maybe just the anticipation of the heated shag he was planning to give Hermione once he’d gotten her alone, but Draco was feeling quite good. Happy even. Who needed those bloody Weasels anyhow?



* * * * * * * *

Author’s notes:



My apologies for the substantial delay in updating. I had to give up writing for a while under the demands of school. I’ve since graduated, moved, and started a new job, and am very pleased to be writing again. Thanks for your patience, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter and please, please encourage me to keep writing and leave a review!