Last Will and Testament

Chapter Ten: A Beautiful Spring Day

Three weeks. There had been three weeks of enduring siege after siege of reporters, and friends, and Ron, and everyone else in the whole bloody world. Everyone who thought they had a right to know about her life and who she was sleeping with. Did they need her to scream it out on the top of Ministry to accept the fact that she was not getting back together with Ron?

She loved him, yes. But even if he wanted her back, it was too late. He had made a choice three years ago, and if he was worried about the consequences now... Well, he should have thought further ahead. Whether he liked it or not, she had moved on. First it had been with Jeff--and now, amazingly, it was with Draco. She'd known it when they had first slept together that it hadn't just been sex. There had been something in the way he had kissed her, as though he was telling her this wasn't just for one night, it wasn't something he was going to regret in the morning--and it wasn't something he wanted her to regret either.

It hadn't been the last time. Even if they hadn't had sex each night, they still slept together. It was as though Draco's room didn't exist for any other purpose than to store his clothes. In a way, she was glad. She knew she would have been hurt if he had done anything else. Sharing such an experience with him, for the first time--it wasn't something she had expected, in more ways than one.

If nothing else, she had expected it to be Ron. And if not Ron, then Harry, if for no other reason than because they were her best friends, and she knew them better than anyone.

She didn't know Draco. She had known Malfoy. But somehow, he'd changed in the past five years, in more than just which side of the war he supported. His attitude had changed. He seemed almost nice, and it was disarming. She didn't know how to ask him to open up to her. He'd opened up to her that night, that very memorable night, but he hadn't opened up again. They had small-talk, they'd appeared in public together at another Ministry ball, and they'd spoken about finances--but they hadn't just talked. She was only going to stand it for so long. She needed to talk to him.

Hermione sighed, tearing her eyes away from the window and focusing back on the case. It wasn't something she'd been used to with the work at her firm, but it wasn't something she was against, either. It just wasn't something she was incredibly interested in.

Therefore, she was extremely grateful when a knock came on the door, disrupting her work.

"Come in," she said, looking up. She smiled. "Draco; what are you doing here?"

Draco smiled at her and leaned against the doorframe, holding up a basket. "Bringing you a picnic lunch; what else would I be doing?"

"A picnic," Hermione repeated, raising her brows.

Draco grinned. "A picnic," he said.

"Where are we going to eat it?" Hermione asked, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

"Hogwarts," Draco said, coming forward into the office and glancing around. "Alicia was able to get the Headmistress to agree to let us eat on the grounds. Of course, it might have been easier seeing as how you were McGonagall's favorite student. Nice office."

"Hmm?"Hermione asked distractedly. "Oh. Thanks." Her stomach gave a growl and she smiled. "I'm rather hungry; didn't have much to eat for breakfast, I'm afraid."

"Let's go then," Draco said, holding a hand out to her. She took it slowly, meeting his eyes with a blush. They may have had intimate relations, but she was still nervous around him. They walked out of her office and down the hall, past the secretary's desk and into the lift that took them to the main level. From there they headed to the Floo, where Draco said they were going to The Three Broomsticks. She arrived quickly, only having the smallest amount of soot on her black robes. Draco stepped out of the fire gracefully only two seconds behind her.

Hermione looked around the room the owner of the Three Broomsticks had set aside for those arriving and departing by Floo. It was guarded by a solitary wizard who had fallen asleep on duty, propped up on a chair. She tapped her fingers on her thigh in no recognizable pattern, walking into the main room.

It was quiet, as it was a weekday, but the pub was still quite full. No doubt it was people off for their lunch break--people who were obviously not too busy to take note of the most-talked-about couple of the past three weeks. The two walked in silence to the lake in front of Hogwarts, where they could see the castle and a few students lingering outside. Draco pulled a flannel sheet out of the basket he had been carrying and spread it on the ground, motioning for Hermione to sit down before placing the basket upon it and following suit.

Hermione smiled warmly at him, noting the students closer to the school and the reporters fighting with the barriers at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. She nodded towards them. "They never give up, do they?"

Draco smirked. "No, they don't. You'd think they were vultures, the way they cling for a story."

"I seem to remember you were rather friendly with one yourself back in fourth year."

Draco cringed. "Please don't remind me of that horrid woman."

"You seemed to like her at the time," Hermione teased.

"I was a poor, misguided child," Draco said, frowning and shaking his head.

Hermione laughed before motioning to the basket. "So, what do we have to eat?"

"Well," Draco began, reaching into it, "bananas," he pulled them out, "sandwiches, Butterbeer..." He smiled, placing the items between them. "And strawberries and chocolate," he finished, taking the final, delectable items and placing them just out of her reach.

"What are you doing with those?" Hermione asked, her eyes dancing.

"They're dessert," Draco exclaimed, his eyes widening innocently, "We can't eat them before we eat lunch."

Hermione laughed and jumped forward, knocking him to his back. Her hair--loose, as was her custom for the past three weeks--fell around his face, curtaining them away from the world. Hermione leaned down, capturing his lips with hers. Weeks earlier, she would never have imagined doing something so bold--no matter how confident she was with people, she'd never been confident (or even comfortable, really) with physical intimacy.

Three weeks with Draco had, quite obviously, changed that.

Draco kissed her back, letting her take the lead as she buried her hands in his hair and settled herself on top of him. They both knew they wouldn't be able to take it very far, but surely a little snuggling wouldn't be completely amiss.

When she finally pulled away, she was grinning. "Have you changed your mind yet?"

Draco raised a brow. "I don't know; I think I might need a repeat performance."

Hermione rolled her eyes, opting to grab a banana and begin to unwrap it. "Mmm," she sighed, biting into it. "Delicious."

Draco scowled. "You're trying to make me jealous of a fruit, and I won't stand for it."

Hermione laughed. "I am not!"

Draco didn't respond, starting on his sandwich. He wasn't particularly fond of bananas in any case.

Hermione finished her banana before she started speaking again. "Draco," she began, "What was your favourite thing about Hogwarts?"

He looked at her. "About what?"

"Hogwarts," she repeated.

"That's rather broad, Hermione," Draco said, taking a sip of the Butterbeer. "But I suppose I'll take a try at it." He looked past her, at the lake. "Probably the simplicity of it. When I left, I felt like I was being forced to grow up."

Hermione looked at the large building she had lived in for seven years, and sighed. "I agree. You never realize how wonderful it is to be a child until it's over."

"When were you ever a child?" Draco asked, raising a brow.

"You find time, in between studies and saving the world," she said loftily.

"Right."Draco grinned and rolled onto his back, patting the ground by his side. "Come here, Hermione," he said. She scooted over and snuggled up to him.

"This is nice," she sighed.

She didn't know how long they lay there, nor did she care, but after a while, she noticed Draco's eyes drifting shut. She realized that she was lying next to Draco, and he was lying on the ground... And she realized that she didn't want to get up. She wanted to stay there, at Hogwarts...

With Draco.

It was an amazing revelation. Just four weeks earlier she had been loath to call him by his first name. A little more than four weeks earlier and she would have growled at him, given the chance. But now... Now she wanted his company. Now she felt comfortable with it. Now she actually liked him, and, she feared...

She was beginning to love him.

She knew it was ridiculous. She shouldn't be thinking about loving Draco Malfoy. The only reason she had married him was because of her blasted pride--and he'd only married her because of that stupid will. If it hadn't been for the will, she never would have kissed him, or slept with him, and they would have been mere acquaintances who could barely stand each other's company.

But why was she only realizing this now? Why was she admitting she loved him now? If she had at all, it should have been three weeks earlier, when she'd slept with him. Even then, however, she could only admit to somewhat liking him. She feared she may have let her emotions get the best of her at that point.

Now it was different. Now they had a chance--something she wasn't planning to let go of. She could only hope he felt the same.

***

Draco folded up the flannel sheet, watching Hermione as she stood looking out at the lake, her arms wrapped around her waist. She hadn't eaten very much, but that was understandable; he hadn't either.

In the past three weeks, they'd had as much fun out of bed as in it. They'd learned so much about each other, each other's thoughts, memories, ideas... It was amazing. He had never imagined learning so much about another human being. He didn't even know such things about his aunt, and he was closer to her than he had ever been to anyone else.

Except, apparently, Hermione.

She was different. She was different from everyone he knew. She handled things differently. She had different hopes and ideas. Different dreams.

She didn't want power, precisely. At least not for herself. She wanted it for other people, but all she wanted was to help that happen. She didn't care if she never got a cent of money; the only reason she had been worried about it before was because she was practical--she knew she had to eat.

Simply put, she amazed him. And that was rather humbling.

"Hermione," Draco called, placing the sheet in the basket and standing with it. She turned toward him sharply, walking quickly.

"Sorry," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you for bringing me here. It's been years since I've been to Hogwarts and it was nice to relive memories..." She paused, a corner of her mouth quirking into a smile. "Some of them. I'm afraid you were a bit of a bastard back then."

Draco rolled his eyes. "We've already been through this. Besides, I'm not now. So if I ask you to take my arm, will you say yes?"

Hermione smiled at him. "Of course," she said, moving to take it.

The walk passed quickly, the tension broken with their teasing and reminiscence of days at Hogwarts. Before they knew it they were back in the Three Broomsticks' Floo room.

"You go on ahead," Draco said. "I took the rest of the day off, so I'll be going to the Manor. I'll see you tonight." He leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead, his lips lingering a few seconds longer than the last time he had.

The corners of Hermione's lips lifted. "Until later, then," she said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace. "Until tonight, Draco," she whispered to him, her eyes twinkling, and nodded at the now-awake security guard before stepping into the fire and yelling "Ministry of Magic!"

Draco turned from the fireplace and walked back into The Three Broomsticks. What he had told Hermione wasn't strictly true. He had taken the rest of the day off, but he wanted to talk to Ginny Weasley before he went back to the Manor. "Excuse me!" he asked a nearby waitress. "Where can I find Ginny Weasley?"