Perfection

Perfection

Chapter 12: Ordinary Day

"Promise you'll write?" Ginny asked as they stared out the compartment window at the scenery flashing by.

"Of course I will!" Draco replied, sounding somewhat affronted. Then, with a stroke of genius, he added, "I'll do more than that. I'll visit."

For a moment, hope rose up inside of her, before practicality presented itself.

"You can't, my father would kill you, not to mention your parents..."

He brushed a blonde strand of hair out of his face and widened his eyes. "Who has to know?"

"No one, but--"

"Exactly. What could possibly go wrong?"

*

Draco winced at his question hanging in the air. What could go wrong? Quite a bit... His father could find out and put an end to the happy illusion that they could go on like this. Ginny could find out about... well... that thing, whether by a slip of the tongue or a tip-off was no matter.

But, as he so often did, he pushed his doubts aside and told himself that there would be time, and, if he were lucky, he would never have to follow through at all.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, leaning forward in concern, but he was spared answering by two frightened looking third years who slipped into the compartment and scooted into the other seat, trying to avoid meeting his gaze.

Ginny's mouth turned into a poorly suppressed smile and he leaned over to whisper, "Let's give them a show, shall we?"

Letting a faint giggled escape from her mouth, she nodded, and he snaked his arm around her waist. Without hesitation, she nuzzled his neck and her mouth inched its way from his ear until it captured his lips. Exaggerating the use of tongue more than slightly, he pushed her up against the window and shot a sideways glance at the two boys, who had lowered their eyes and were flashing them up every so often out of curiosity.

Ginny let out a low moan and in an overly dramatic voice cried out, "Oh, Draco, you naughty boy!"

It took everything he had not to burst out laughing as he climbed on top of her and began to frantically remove her shirt, seeing how the two boys were not-so-subtly inching toward the door.

"Almost there, love," he growled, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Here, let me help you," she purred back, her fingers fingering his belt.

How was she managing to keep a straight face?

"By all means..."

"Oh, Draco! It's positively enormous, why didn't you tell me?"

"Yes, isn't it?"

A strangled yelp from the doorway interrupted the game. Draco didn't dare look, but Ginny called out, still playing along, "Oh, hello Harry! I'd offer to let you come join us, but there's only room for two on the seat."

From the hall, they heard Ron's sulky tone saying, "Do I want to know?"

There wasn't a sound from Harry, only horrified staring, so Ginny cried out, "Oh, darling, do continue, we were having such fun!" making sure that her voice carried out to the hall.

Draco made a face that said, quite clearly, "Do you want to get me killed?" but her only reply was to bat her eyelashes innocently and continue her job of undoing the pants.

Abandoning whatever sense of caution he might have had, he began to run his hands over her form and lowered his mouth, tracing a line with his mouth from her stomach up to her mouth and the excessive use of tongue began again. Deftly, she began tugging his shirt over his head while he continued to caress and tore it off, throwing it with enough power that it would land near the door.

A disgusted humph came from the entrance and was closely followed by the click of the door shutting. Draco could contain himself no longer and rolled off of her, laughing and landing on the floor with a rather loud thud.

Peering over the edge of the seat, Ginny cried out, giggling, "Oh, Draco darling, ravish me, please do! You are positively exquisite! And so large! I had no idea!"

He rolled onto his side and howled harder as she tossed him back his shirt and buttoned hers up again, finger-combing her hair.

"Although, I must admit I didn't think it would work quite so well..." she added, tears running down her face.

"I think it was the whole 'enormous' bit, don't you?" he replied arrogantly.

"Yes, well that bit was real, although it isn't quite as big as Neville's in my third year at the Yule Ball..."

"What?" Draco shouted, head popping up from between the seats.

"Relax, I'm kidding."

"Thank Merlin," he breathed, laying back down.

"I'd almost think you were jealous," she accused lightly.

To her surprise, his reply was serious. "Maybe I am."

A strange, frighteningly powerful emotion welled up in her, making her breath catch in her lungs. He sat up again and looked her dead in the eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he said hesitantly, "Gin, there's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening."

For a moment, he paused, thinking of the best way to reveal himself.

Ginny, I'm sorry, I'm not the person you think I am...

Ginny, it was all before I really knew you, when I agreed to it. Actually, I never technically agreed. There was no choice involved...

I can't do it, Ginny. I just can't...

In the end, it came out simply as, "I'm scared."

She closed her eyes and shuddered before replying, "Aren't we all?"

Coward, he thought, training his eyes on the window.

*

Hermione stretched out on her bed, relishing the idea of having all of Gryffindor Tower to herself for July. No one interrupting her as she studied, no noises going off in the common room at random moments, no Harry and Ron to criticize Severus...

She hated the way they did that. They didn't know him, so how could they judge? And whenever she reminded them of that, Ron would look incredulous and Harry would mutter darkly something about knowing more than she did. Something that she highly doubted.

Her thoughts were broken off by the door being thrown open and Severus announcing, "Get up, there's work to be done. We only have three weeks to go."

She raised herself from the bed by degrees and teased, "I might have been changing, you know. You could have barged in and I would be stark naked..."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile wasn't entirely suppressed.

"Pervert," she hissed at him.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Pervert," she repeated, more clearly.

The eyebrow had gone up nearly to his hairline now.

"I saw the look on your face, don't deny it. Pervert."

"Hermione Granger, that is quite enough."

She swung her feet off of the bed and stood up. "All right, I'm ready. What're we doing? There's nothing to be done with the potion for another three days."

"What kind of coffee did you drink this morning?" he asked, wincing at her chipper tone.

"Hotel-flavoured. And you never answered my question."

"We are planning the trip. In detail."

"Great, I get the big bed!"

A smile played across his face. "That was funny, I though I just heard you say..."

"That's because I did," she replied, smiling brightly. "I'll play you for it. Poker. Except maybe not, because I usually lose..."

"Would you care to enlighten me in regards to your good mood?"

She paused for a moment, pretending to be thoughtful. "You know, I'm not sure what caused it, but it doesn't matter... Oh, my mum sent me some brochures about Leipzig last week, so we can look at those and oh my goodness I'm so excited!" She paused breathlessly, before adding, "Pervert."

He looked at her for a moment with half-closed eyes, before ordering, "Get the brochures."

She practically bounded over to the trunk and began rummaging through it before coming out with a bundle of pamphlets that were held together with a hair elastic.

"Here they are," she said, handing them over. "There's one for a medieval pharmacy in there that I thought you might be interested in, and I'd like to go to the Bach museum if you don't mind terribly."

"Bach?" Severus repeated.

"Yeah, Johann Sebastian Bach. It says here that his body was reburied twice... Once because they thought it wasn't prestigious enough and once because the church it was in was bombed in World War Two."

"Ah..."

He remembered now. He had compared his memories to the corpse that had been removed from the ground. A rather grisly metaphor now that he contemplated it.

"Anyway, my mum loves Bach, I think she'd kill me if I didn't go to the museum..."

"It's all right. I've always liked classical music."

"Baroque," Hermione corrected absently, ruffling through the tourism information spread across her bed.

"Pardon?"

"It's from the Baroque period. The classical period wasn't until later, with Clementi and Mozart."

He furrowed his brow. Who the hell was Clementi?

"How do you know?"

She shrugged. "Mum loves music. And Muzio Clementi was around at the same time as Mozart. Some people even thought that he was better. Anyway, so the Bach museum is for sure?"

"Why not? And how did you know what I wanted to ask?"

"Your expression gives you away. And the pharmacy?" she continued briskly.

"Of course. I'm surprised that you would think otherwise."

"And we should go out for supper one night," Hermione continued, practically bouncing with excitement. "I want some nice authentic German food."

"Strudel?" he asked, naming the only German food that sprang to mind.

"And Spatzle and sauerkraut..." she added happily, before realization crossed her face. "Think I'll be able to keep it all down?"

It was said lightly, but the uncertainty was apparent in her eyes.

"I don't have any doubts," he assured her, "and nor should you."

A wavering smile spread across her lips, and in a gesture of affection, she reached across and hugged him.

"Thanks. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Although he would have denied it until the end of time, the feared Potions Master felt a flush tinge his cheeks and for a brief moment he was utterly flustered. After a moment she drew away, and continued talking briskly.

"You ought to buy some muggle clothes... and do something with your hair."

"There's nothing wrong with my hair," he snarled, and she grinned.

"I actually like it long, but you should tie it back at least, since I'm assuming that you'll be wearing a suit while we're being muggles."

"Too true," he muttered.

"Can I see what it looks like out of your face?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

With a sigh, he pulled it back with his hands and she smiled. "Much better."

Hermione felt a flutter of something in her chest as his hair slid into his eyes once more. Without anything to hide his face, he seemed much younger and far more vulnerable.

Trying to mask her emotion, she said, "Why don't we go to London to buy you some muggle clothes?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why does it always lead to shopping?"

She laughed. "What do you say to it? Next week?"

He had to smile at her enthusiasm. "I never expected this from you..." he teased, delaying.

"What do you expect, having to share a bloody room with Lavender and Parvati?"

"True, I suppose it would be inevitable..."

She grinned at him in triumph. "You're really just a big softy..."

"I resent that."

*

"Mum! Stop fussing!"

Ginny rolled her eyes as Ron pushed Molly away in irritation and closed her eyes, willing the noise to go away. In addition to Ron's violently verbal protests, there was Charlie who had stopped in for breakfast, a group of aurors loudly debating new curses, and the sounds of things catching fire and boiling over, not to mention the revolting smell of kippers. And it was only eight in the morning.

She could still be in bed. She didn't need to be here, in the midst of this sanctioned insanity, listening to screaming people and smelling burning food. The fact that Harry was staring at her in slightly creepy way wasn't really helping either.

And owl swooped in that she recognized as Draco's and it dropped a letter into her lap before wheeling around and leaving through the nearest open window. Snatching up the letter, she sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, feeling the anticipation building as she did. This was what she had been waiting for.

Flinging herself onto her bed, she ripped it open and felt her toes curl in excitement.

Now the plans could start.

*

"Oh, come on, try it on," Hermione cajoled, holding up the white shirt in front of him.

"Absolutely not," he snapped by way of reply.

"You have two black suits... Just try it."

He gave her an irritated look.

"With the jeans? Please?" She added her most dazzling smile for effect.

"I agree," the salesman agreed wholeheartedly, nodding. "That combination will look most becoming on you... And may I suggest--"

"No," Severus cut in quickly, and Hermione tried not to giggle, without much success.

As she sat outside the change room, drumming her fingers impatiently on the vinyl chair, she tried to avoid meeting the salesman's eyes.

"Is your boyfriend looking for anything in particular?" he asked her, and she stared at him in shock for a moment.

She was about to open her mouth to correct him, when the door swung open and a sullen looking Severus stepped out, dark eyes smoldering.

"He's not... Oh," she said, half-gasping and standing up automatically to fix his collar and undo the top button.

He caught her hand in his before she could and shook his head slightly, arching an eyebrow.

"It'll look better," she protested.

Rolling his eyes, he released her and with slightly trembling hands she made the adjustments. Stepping back to admire him, Hermione realized that she had stopped breathing and inhaled.

"Mirror," she said, pointing while being shocked that she could manage an entire two-syllables.

With something like amusement in his eyes, he stepped in front and scrutinized himself.

"Yes," she ordered.

"I said 'try on,' not purchase," he pointed out, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a grin.

"So?" She had now regressed to single-syllable words as her knees gradually melted. Soon she would be sprawled on the floor.

"If you would like my opinion--" the salesman tried, approaching him, then backing off at the two less-than-friendly expressions that were directed his way.

"Just get it," she moaned at him. "You'll be, what, fifty pounds poorer?" Sentence structure was returning. This was good.

He arched an eyebrow.

"I'm not leaving this store until you do," she informed him obstinately.

He sighed, and she knew that she had won.

"Leave it on," she added. "I'm sure that this nice man won't mind... Will you?"

She turned to the man and smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact that he was now glaring at them. With an expression reminiscent of a kicked dog, he led them to the till and before Severus could give him the money, Hermione threw down a note.

"My treat," she told him, smiling mischievously. "Anyway, now you owe me."

He looked at her disdainfully through half-closed eyes and drawled, "I assure you, Miss Granger, that I owe you nothing..."

She peered up at him through her lashes and tried not to grin. "Really, now, Professor Snape. I would think that you had enough sense not to take me seriously."

She linked her arm through his, and they strolled out the doors of the shop, onto the busy London street.

*

Gin,

Hope everything's going all right and Ron and Harry haven't killed you over the train--or told your mum and dad. I've told my mum that I have to keep training for Quidditch over the summer, so I'll be able to get away on that excuse (hopefully). How does next weekend sound?

Draco

Ginny reread the note with a grin. It was perfect. Next Saturday she had been planning a trip to the Burrow to grab some more clothes and her parents trusted enough to let her go alone.

Meeting Draco wouldn't be breaking that trust, she was certain. They were all wrong about him, and it wasn't as if they were actually going to do anything. In six months, their only intimate physical contact had been acting silly and trying to ward other people off. She had begun to realize that she meant a little bit more to him that he was ready to admit, and truth be told, she toyed with the very same notion herself. But she trusted him and she trusted herself. She wasn't stupid.

Hastily scrawling a reply, she shoved his note under her pillow before going to search out an owl to use. She met Harry on the stairs, but he just brushed by her coldly, making it clear that he would allow no conversation. Shrugging it off, she continued on her quest. As she reached the bottom step, she felt eyes on her, and turned just in time to see Harry turn the corner, watching, a frightening intensity burning in them.

For a brief instant, their eyes met, and it sent a jolt of ice through her heart. Shuddering slightly, she turned her back and kept walking.

*

As he absently browsed through a muggle bookstore, running his hands over thick and thin volumes over something called 'Science Fiction,' it struck Severus that, oddly enough, he was enjoying himself. Glancing across the store at Hermione, he smiled to himself. She was pouring over a book, curls tumbling over her shoulders and into her eyes. Impatiently, she pushed it back and looked up, meeting his gaze and grinning, before going back to her previous activity.

Today she seemed... sparkly, almost. There was none of her usual hint of melancholy glimmering on the edges, threatening to creep over. Her laugh was real and rung out in pealing bells, her smile wasn't reluctant, the dark shadows that haunted her eyes had almost completely vanished.

He wasn't entirely sure when she had begun to appear striking. Perhaps it had been the day during Christmas Holidays when she had ran into him in the restaurant and he had begun to realize precisely how much spirit she possessed, perhaps it had come over him gradually... It was there, though. No use denying the fact.

Granted, she wasn't flawlessly gorgeous. She was still thinner than she should be, almost to the point of being breakable, and her hair was practically untamable. But her eyes had darkened to almost a chocolate colour, and when she laughed they sparkled invitingly. Beautiful.

He almost flushed at the thought and mentally scorned himself for the use of such words. She was a student, off-limits... and intelligent... attractively so.

She waved at him, and he realized that he had been staring.

Feigning indifference, he approached her and nonchalantly asked, "So, what time did you say that we were meeting your mother for lunch?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. "We have five minutes. Good thing it's only three blocks away."

"How long will it take us?" he asked.

"Five minutes," she told him. "If we run."

They hurried from the store, dodging to narrowly avoid the magazine rack, then stood outside in confusion for a few moments.

"Which way?"

She grabbed him by the wrist and began dragging him until they were sprinting all-out weaving through the pedestrians and dodging across the street between gaps.

After a few minutes, Hermione paused and said breathlessly, "I think we passed it."

The turned and retraced their steps, trying to find the sidewalk café. It was only when they entered it and the waiter pointedly stared and asked if they wanted a table for two that he realized their hands were joined.

Still half-laughing, he released his grip and she hurried over to a table with a woman who was staring blankly out the window, sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed, and she leapt to her feet.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, embracing her. "How are you? Goodness, you're so thin..."

He noticed Hermione shift uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

Agrippa let go of her daughter, suddenly formal, saying, "Professor Snape, I presume. Hermione has always spoken so highly of you."

He frowned for a moment, wondering why on earth she had done that, then shook the offered hand, replying, "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Granger. And do call me Severus."

Do call me Severus? he thought in part disdain, part amusement. Merlin, he was acting like a nervous suitor.

"Please sit down," she said, sweeping out a hand to one of the free chairs, next to Hermione.

He glanced at her briefly, and she smiled reassuringly.

"What do you teach again, Severus?" Agrippa asked. "Herbology, isn't it?"

He barely managed to mask a look of horror, choking on a sip of water.

Thankfully, Hermione smoothed it over by correcting, almost harshly, "Potions, Mum. Se--Professor Snape teaches Potions. Which is why he is helping me on a Potions project."

Agrippa smiled sheepishly and said, "Of course, how silly of me..."

*

Sitting across from her mother, Hermione was shocked at the change. Agrippa had always prided herself on the fact that her hair didn't possess a single strand of gray, but in the last few months it had gone from a sleek chestnut to salt and pepper, and her face looked haggard under the make-up.

It wasn't only that, though. She had always had a flawless memory--she could recall every detail of a university disagreement perfectly, but now she was vague and empty. As if she wasn't really there.

Relax, Hermione told herself. It hasn't been the easiest time for her. Give her a while, and she'll be fine.

Or so she hoped.

*

The sun was beginning to set as they strolled through the park, and Hermione sank down onto one of the benches, Severus beside her. She settled her head on his shoulder tiredly, watching the sun stain the clouds vibrant colours and smiling.

"So, what did you think?" she asked, tilting her head so that she could see him.

"It wasn't as horrible as I thought," he teased her, and she hit him lightly.

Straightening, she met his gaze dead on. "I thought it was brilliant. Especially the salesman that was hitting on you..."

"He was not 'hitting on me'," he snapped.

She laughed. "I told you the shirt would look nice..."

He mock-glared, and she smiled impishly.

"You almost look attractive..."

A bit of a stretch, actually. Seductive, tempting... sexy, even, were much closer to the truth. On a spur of the moment urge, she leaned forward, teasing his lips with hers lightly, before drawing away. A moment later, his mouth was on hers again, strong, yet wonderfully gentle.

A multitude of sensations rushed through her during those brief moments, indescribable and perfect. When he finally pulled away, his breathing was almost as ragged and desperate as hers.

"We should be heading back," he said hoarsely.

"We should," she agreed.

Standing and making sure that no one was near enough to see, they apparated, leaving behind nothing but the golden rays of the sun and the echo of laughter to tell of the wonderful, perfect, ordinary day.