Fractions of An Arrogant Man

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of the delectable characters. Pooh.

By attica

A Draco and Hermione one-shot fic.

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Wanted to write something light, so I opted a rather lengthy one-shot featuring some Pansy-bashing, Draco's short-wired jealousy, and Hermione's feistiness! Oh yeah, and Neville and chocolate cake and Draco saying, "Let's take this outside," if you're interested in any of that.

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Neville Longbottom was a dead man.

Sure, he was a blubbering elephant with a brain incapable of doing nothing else but causing disaster and certainly looking frighteningly similar to a festering, overgrown mouse – but Draco Malfoy did not participate in so-called "sympathy." He felt pity, yes, but just because the stupid Gryffindor boy lacked brain cells and distributed catastrophic mishaps to occur all over the castle with his terrible clumsiness and had a sorry look about him did not mean that Draco would not hesitate in punching his face in. Draco did not do charity. And neither should his girlfriend.

"I don't understand why you're making such a big deal about it," said Hermione Granger, acting as if it was nothing at all. Her serene face looked breezy and casual and as if Neville Longbottom was not – in fact – salivating after her.

"I don't understand why you're not emitting vomit from your mouth!" exclaimed Draco, feeling something in his skull boil over. "He's-he's – Longbottom!" The word and concept alone made him want to emit vomit from his mouth.

She sent him a look from the corner of her eye, looking disturbed from his little comment about her housemate. "Look, I know he's a tad bit clumsy—"

"He almost burned down the entire Slytherin portion of the castle last week!" said Draco. "A tad bit clumsy? Oh, then I suppose Potter's a tad bit revolting!"

Her brows were cast downward, looking at him. "I understand why you're not so pleased—"

"Pleased? Oh no, you've read me all wrong – I'm ecstatic!"

"Would you bloody shut up and let me finish my sentences?" she snapped. "I know you're not too keen on any of this, but you've got to understand – nobody knows about us."

"And that gives you reason to let Longbottom take you out on a date?" he spat.

"No! No, it doesn't, but could you please be more understanding?"

"What's there to understand?" he asked her. "What I understand is that Longbottom's been fantasizing about you in your knickers—"

"Draco, please!" she objected.

"And now he wants to take you to Hogsmeade?"

She was glaring at him. "It's completely innocent. Not everyone is like you, you know. He just wants to take me out – when have you ever done something as decent as that?"

"Hey, I joined your SPEW!" he shouted.

"It's S.P.E.W.!" Hermione vocally corrected him.

"How are you even considering his proposal? How? Me – I'm your boyfriend! Boyfriend! Pansy's asked me for a shag four times every week these last four months and I didn't even consider it because we're together!"

"Like you'd even want to shag her!"

"I'd like to have the option!"

"Well then, go – go have the option! I'll see you when Pansy gives birth to three mutilated dogs!"

"I'll have you know I'm handsome enough for five people!"

In response, he heard Hermione let out a very loud scoff.

"And don't tell me I haven't done anything decent for you! I bought you flowers!"

"That spit glue on my face!" she retaliated with a begrudging look and glinting eyes.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase: 'it's the thought that counts'?"

She let out another scoff.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to tell him yes!"

She tilted her chin up, her eyes narrowed into thin slits. "What if I do?"

This infuriated Draco. His eyes shriveled into slits somewhat similar to hers, enraged. "You wouldn't dare."

Her nostrils flared. "Watch me."

"You wouldn't dare, Granger," he repeated, sounding menacing.

She smirked triumphantly. "Your threats don't frighten me, Malfoy. I've seen you in your knickers."

This took a blow to Draco's pride. "That was a cheap hit. A very cheap hit," he snarled. "You're not going out with Longbottom and that is the end of this discussion."

"Who are you? My dad?"

"No – your boyfriend! Or does your mentally impaired state affect your memory too?"

"Sod off, Draco!" she shouted, her face flushed with rage.

"Fine! Do you want to go out with Longbottom?" he exclaimed. "Go! Say yes! By the end of the night you'll be covered with boils, have been set on fire, attacked by frogs, and then mauled by a wild gorilla!"

"That's not true!" trilled Hermione. "And – yes, I am going to say yes! I'm going to say yes just to spite you!"

And with a quick, furious turn of her heel, her bushy head whished out of the empty Ancient Runes classroom Draco had dragged her into when he had heard the rumor voluminously passing around in the hall.

Draco glared at the door, gnashing his teeth.

Then he, too, stomped out, his jaw clamped tight, heading for the Slytherin common room.

Minutes later, a broad and sphinxlike smile filled his view, making his stomach turn.

Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy huddled close to Draco, and no matter how much he tried to distance himself away from her by trying to wrench his arm free from her iron grip in a very subtle way as to not ruin this evening, she still held onto him with a surprisingly very tight grip, expressing strength that Draco had never known she'd ever possessed before. Millicent, yes, for the look about her was certainly anything but petite and dainty and even her name carried a surly bulkiness to it, but never Pansy.

Because Pansy's name reminded him of a weedy flower, dried in the sun and shriveling, letting out foul fumes. However, he was a bit biased. But only because it was entirely true and it articulated her personality quite well – she was a weedy flower. And he wasn't certain which perfume she used, but he was rather sure he would have to burn his clothes in an all out bonfire after this night for the sour stink would never wash off.

Draco wrinkled his nose, turning his face away and silently gagging.

Oh, God. The smell was horrible. Even a scent-impaired skunk would have keeled over and died by now. If he'd known the torture he'd have to endure he wouldn't have hesitated in bringing an oxygen mask.

"Draco? What is it?"

"Nothing. You smell absolutely lovely."

That was the hardest lie Draco had ever had to ever utter aloud.

She beamed at him, revealing small white teeth. Then she batted her eyelashes at him. "Perfect. I made a little effort tonight just for you."

No kidding. The hairspray in her hair had made his allergies start to kick up again.

He rubbed his nose, trying to swallow down the sarcasm that was bubbling up inside his gullet. "I noticed. Thanks, Pans." For digging him an early grave, that's what.

He didn't know if he'd actually let his gluttonous sarcasm trickle out through the silky drawl of his voice, but she didn't seem to notice as she continued to strangle the blood circulation out of one of his limbs.

He looked around, feeling his arm starting to go completely numb from her possessive clutch. At least he couldn't feel the cramps clenching in his forearms anymore. He peered through the foggy haze of the lamplights and the snow-laden streets, trying to search for a familiar head of bushy hair. He clenched his jaw as he recognized no one with such a distinctive and unkempt mane within his view.

He'd tried to stop her in the common room, begrudgingly shouting at her that she was being unpardonably stupid and daft, being so revengeful against him, and why was she going to let herself endure such torture and possible chances of being maimed in the presence of the hapless walking alp of idiocy because any reason at all couldn't possibly be good enough for the premature purchase of her deathbed, but she'd only just glared at him like he was the major thorn in her side.

Then she'd slammed the door in his face.

And so he'd left feeling slightly cranky. He'd tried not to let it leak out so he wouldn't scare away Pansy, his date for the evening, but he'd already snapped at her more than one too many times when she'd started talking about what they would name their children, where they would buy their summer manor getaway, and he'd seen his whole life pass before his eyes if Longbottom did manage to somehow kill Granger tonight, making the sour acid of his lunch crawl up his throat. Which was quite funny. Because he'd wanted to shove something acid and sour down her throat.

Having pug-faced children actually made him want to kill himself.

And Draco quite favored his life. So that was new.

He continued to look ahead of him, reveling in the winter tingles that shimmied up his body even though he wore the most expensive clothes and cloaks to protect him from the dropping temperatures during this frigid time of the year. It was such a beautiful night. He felt queasy as he suddenly realized that he was spending this stunning night with someone… well, not so stunning at all.

Draco felt homesick.

He hated it that he only felt homesick when it was the case of being away from Granger.

His contemplative stare turned into a glower.

Merlin, where was that walking billboard for twisted knickers?

He actually pitied himself when he got the feeling that her twisted knickers were far better than Pansy's death grip and her skunk-like perfume. Even if Draco wasn't homesick, he'd place every bet in the world that he'd still be feeling sick.

They'd passed a jewelry store Draco was quite familiar with and Pansy dragged him back, crooning in a very unattractive way about the certain diamond necklace on display. The luminous spotlights directed towards it made it sparkle and glitter like fine, pristine ice, sending rainbows of radiant tea lights to flash around its crimson velvet cushion. Draco rolled his eyes and was convinced he was dying a very slow death when she then started naming each of the events she would wear the necklace to, some even as far-fetched as afternoon tea with the Queen. But it was her fantasy and he felt no need to correct her. Because in his current fantasy, he was very far away from Pansy and her rancid stink and pummeling Longbottom's face into the snow.

Except maybe his wasn't as far-fetched as her gaining favor from the Queen and actually enamoring her enough to be invited over for tea.

As he waited for her to finish, his thoughts started to waft over to his girlfriend. Hermione was like this too, except maybe a bit less whiny and teeth-grittingly annoying. All right, maybe not at all, but she was a bit on the fanatical side of books. She'd never favored diamonds, though, which had always struck him as odd but never surprised him. She'd always been a very unconventional girl.

Sometimes he even thought he loved her for it.

Draco's brows moved downwards as he felt his impatience start to frustrate him again.

'Stop thinking about the old prude,' Draco scolded himself bitterly, trying to cross his arms but then remembered that Pansy was strangulating one of them. 'Besides, the next time you see her, all of her hair's probably been burned off, her skin will be covered in boils, and she'll be nursing at least a few dislocations and broken ribs along with some traumatic memories from that wild gorilla mauling she'd have suffered from.'

Draco then wanted to snigger, smirking from the image.

Instead he felt an oncoming eclipse of rage and anger.

He started to walk ahead, pulling her along with him. "Let's go, Pansy."

Her eyes turned wide. Then she looked hopeful. "You will buy me one just like that when we get married, won't you?"

'Not bloody likely!' Draco wanted to shout. The thought of marriage with her made his whole body quiver with violent shudders. He'd be a miserable man. He might even turn to the other sex for comfort.

Not that he would. It was just a possibility.

They walked along with Draco saying nothing and still trying to breathe through his mouth even though he always tasted something awful and horrid every time he swallowed.

"Oh, Draco," she purred, sighing dreamily, resting her head against his shoulder, making his head instantly turn away in fear of triggering his allergies again. "To be honest, I was wondering how long it'd take for you to finally realize that I'm the one you're meant to be with."

It took all of his self-composure not to gag.

"Now, Pansy," he managed to choke out, trying to yank his arm back again. "Let's not get too carried away with ourselves."

She hugged his arm even tighter. "Not bloody likely," she smiled seductively, echoing his past thought. Then she caressed him in a place that made Draco's eyes bulge out of their sockets, making him look like someone had just transfigured his eyeballs into wide tea saucers.

He quickly brushed her hand away, horrified. He felt himself shudder again as she purred against him. Instead of sounding incredibly sexy like he knew she sought out to be, she sounded like she had to go to the loo something terrible.

Then he looked over to her side and noticed the library he and Granger often met at in secret on Hogsmeade events.

"Oh, look, the library!" Draco said idiotically, his mind flurrying with ambivalent thoughts. If only Granger could see him now. Pansy was groping him and he was certain Granger would have pounced on her by now in an attempt to rip out her fake lashes along with her overdone hair. The thought entertained him, but he felt bitter as he knew that it wasn't even the least bit likely that she would have seen Pansy's wanton stroke.

She was probably out hunting for Longbottom's brainless toad, Trevor, as she always did because she was so insufferably nice and noble. Ugh, even just the thought of him made him want to throw up.

"The library?" Pansy scoffed disgustingly, crinkling her nose. "Whatever was that worth mentioning for?"

Surprisingly, Draco found himself concurring. He'd forgotten her brain was too small to actually appreciate good literature, though the atomic amount of hairspray could very easily mislead.

"That Mudblood girl's probably in there," she said again, a trail of revulsion oozing from her voice. "Wanking herself with her little books." Then she laughed. It wasn't really like a laugh. Girls' laughs were supposed to be sweet and soft, or maybe even loud and musical and joyful. But Pansy's laugh was cruel and cold, full of ill meaning. Almost hollow. It was more like a cackle. And Draco hated Pansy's cackle.

He tensed up beside her, feeling his temper start to slightly fray. The nickname she had used to presently dub his girlfriend made a rush of icy and troubling sensations wave over him, causing him to clench his fists and grit his teeth. And Hermione Granger would never do… what Pansy had said she was inside there probably doing. Pansy was more the type to do that – never Granger. After all, Granger had him – why would she need to?

Then she started to snicker, something that Draco had grown accustomed to hearing from his fellow Slytherins. They had been born sniggering and scowling from their mothers' womb, after all. Or so the legend said.

"Oh, I heard the most interesting and horrid rumor today out in the halls," she laughed. "That idiotic boy Longbottom asked out Granger! Can you believe it? The beaver and the beast!" She started to laugh so hard she was doubling over. Draco wanted to rip his ears out, feeling the terrible noise scrape against his eardrums like fingernails on a chalkboard. His anger rose, feeling something hot in his skull start to radiate. "Think of their children!" She continued to laugh and Draco continued to want to punch her in the face, no matter how many times he told himself he would never lay a finger on a woman.

But Pansy wouldn't necessarily be considered a woman, would she? She was more creature-from-the-depths-of-hell than a woman.

Longbottom was more a woman than she was.

Just then, they passed along the spotless glass window of a fancy restaurant Draco was well acquainted with. With an appropriate name in golden and slender cursive that lit up the winter night, Aphrodite's Kiss, it was filled with the dreamy aroma of vanilla and fine foods only made for the deep-pocketed. Floating candles hovered about the place with garlands of fresh white roses and light golden walls set off the romantic atmosphere. As Draco glanced inside, he saw the customary: a full house just like every night, starry-eyed couples, crystal champagne glasses that held top-notch sparkling wine, a wistful band playing in the front, Granger, Aubrey Mills the receptionist, the gold-laced menus—

Draco's eyes widened.

Granger!

His heart leapt and his stomach performed a somersault. His eyes narrowed in annoyance and jealousy as he watched his girlfriend smiling and laughing along with her date, Neville Longbottom in his best clothes. She didn't look like she had suffered from any physical catastrophe at all. No boils on her skin, no black eyes or protruding broken bones. Instead she looked… nothing like he'd ever seen before.

Her hair was no longer the chaotic bush he had – over time – warmed to and was set into shiny and soft ringlets that complimented her face, and she was radiant amongst the candlelight and the golden walls with the white blooms of roses. She was wearing a crimson kimono-like dress with a high neck color trimmed with delicate gold thread and the supple flesh of her upper arms were revealed. Her eyes twinkled and she seemed to be enjoying the elephant's company so greatly that Draco felt his stomach tie over itself in repeated knots.

Her smiling pink lips glistened ever so lightly as she sipped sweetly and mannerly from her glass, looking so pretty and beautiful and so elegant…

Draco felt a frustrated and angry shout sweltering inside his throat, but then tried to suppress it, remembering that Pansy was still with him.

She was so bloody lovely, and she was out on a date with Neville Longbottom! Was she aware that she was cheating on him?

He knew that if he asked her she would only give him a long lecture about technicalities. He could hear it already: "No one knows about us, Draco…. You have to understand…. Don't worry, I don't fancy him that way…. We're only friends…." Just rubbish that Draco hated. Nevermind that she had been undoubtedly sincere to say yes to begin with and had only met him tonight under clean and innocent intentions, he was still angry with her.

Because – she was cheating on him! Secret relationship or not, he was well aware that cheating is cheating, no matter what the circumstance!

He heard Pansy gasp beside him. "Is that the Mudblood?" He could have sworn he'd heard a tinge of jealousy in her voice, and he saw the intimidation scrawled all over her face as she turned her nose up, huffing. "She looks hideous as always. Just because she's tamed her dead bush of hair only means she's more desperate for Longbottom." She smirked evilly. "My, my. Maybe little Gryffindor Longbottom's finally going to achieve his manhood tonight!"

That snapped Draco's growing temper. His head snapped her way, his eyes glinting with infuriation. "Longbottom hasn't got a manhood to achieve in the first place," he said through his teeth. He'd chop it off and make him eat it before it would ever get near his Granger!

Then he grabbed Pansy's hand, hauling her along.

"Oh – Draco! Where are we going?"

"We're going to have some dinner."

Pansy brightened. "Oh, well, all right then."

They entered through the glass doors, feeling the instant swoosh of warm and welcoming air that smelled of vanilla, mild and exotic lilies, and the most heavenly food in the whole of the wizarding world. Pansy's lip curled devilishly as Draco stormed right up to the receptionist, attaching herself to his hip like they'd been born Siamese twins.

The middle-aged man at the desk looked up and met him with a pleased and shocked expression.

"Mister Malfoy," the man warmly greeted him, giving him a smile that gave Draco a full view of all of his white teeth. His eyes glittered and his nose perked up at the scent of money. "I wasn't aware you had made a reservation with us tonight."

"I didn't," drawled Draco, giving him a steady look. "But my lovely date and I were awfully looking forward to a superb meal here. Nothing has atmosphere and good cuisine quite tacked down like this place does." Then Draco gave him his most cunning and brilliant smile.

The man paled for a second, his smile freezing in place, but he brightened right up again. He looked down at his list. "Well, we've got a full house here tonight, but I'm most certain without a doubt that we can make room for our most loyal customer."

"Splendid."

"Indeed. Our staff will get right to it." His wide grin twitched nervously as he nodded mannerly to him and dashed out, tapping the waiters and waitresses on the shoulders and giving them a whisper as he made his way across the room. One of his eyes stayed glued on Draco as to make sure they didn't go anywhere, and each of the staff's eyes widened at the sight of the elegant Malfoy.

Draco smirked triumphantly.

Pansy cuddled closer to him, praising him. "Oh, Draco. Your power over others is so sexy," she purred.

Meanwhile, Draco was glaring at the pair sitting in the middle of the room.

Not a minute later, the staff had managed to shoo out a pair and Aubrey, the receptionist, had returned with a relieved grin. "If you'd please follow me, Mister Malfoy," he told them, and Draco and Pansy did as he said.

Draco's heart leapt as he suddenly realized that they were being seated right beside Granger and Longbottom's table. His eyes gleamed with devious purpose as he felt Pansy let out a sigh of air at the beauty of the place.

They passed right behind Granger, Draco almost reaching out to stroke her fine ringlets that shone luminously in the light and feeling rather lightheaded as her familiarly fragrant aroma of cinnamon and a touch of cherry blossoms pervaded his nose. Longbottom didn't notice him as he passed for reason that he was so entranced in her – Draco catching a quick second of what she was saying and it was something about her elf-liberation antics again – and he wanted nothing but to snatch one of the plates right nearby and whiz it at his head.

"Here you are, Mister Malfoy," Aubrey said, pulling out his chair while another waiter appeared and pulled out Pansy's chair. "The menus are right there," he pointed, "and one of my staff will be right over once you're ready. Thank you again for choosing Aphrodite's Kiss to dine at tonight. It is utmost a honorable privilege." And then he left, leaving Draco and Pansy alone.

Pansy was glossy-eyed at her surroundings. She was also longingly ogling the diamond and amethyst bracelet of one of the women across from them.

Draco, seated on Longbottom's side so that he had a clear view of Granger passionately rambling on about her S.P.E.W. with hand gestures and all, looking so radiant and flushed from all her enthusiasm, felt a twang at his stomach, like the sour note of a chord. A longing twang. Full of desire and jealousy and bitterness and want and pain. It was only then that he realized his mistake. It was his fault for not taking her out on dates. Not that he could, anywhere, since people had such big mouths and their big secret would consume the school like the wildest fire, but he could just as easily send for a special request of some fine service in one of the deserted classrooms and set up a few enchantments to make it seem as if they were really out on a real date. It was his fault she had agreed to Longbottom's proposal for a night of glamour and romance. Draco had never given her a normal rose that didn't spit anything at her face, had never told her she looked beautiful, had never made her feel special by letting her dress up and take her out.

And now she was doing all of the above. Without him. With Longbottom. Had tamed her hair and dressed into something so lovely he wanted to just gape and stare at her forever. There was even a rose right beside her plate that he knew most despicably had come from her so-called "date." Merlin, how he wanted to rewind time and just finally take the plunge and ask her himself so that he wouldn't have to see her with another man – innocent or not. There was no reason he had to share her with the rest of Hogwarts randy band of losers. She was his. Even if no one else but they knew. But she knew it too… didn't she?

Pansy had already grabbed for her menu and was licking her lips at every single selection. "How delectable does everything seem here?" she said hungrily. She looked like a lion ready to pounce at a wounded zebra. The light almost made her face look maniacal.

"The duck looks fantastic… so does the lamb… I don't know how I could ever choose…." she trailed on.

Draco, meanwhile, wasn't feeling so hungry. Just watching her filled him up with an entirely different feeling. Then he heard Longbottom pitch in some comment, flattering her, and as she blushed, Draco's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Anger bubbled in his veins.

Pansy looked up. "Draco? What are you going to order?" Her voice faded off at an odd note as she followed his annoyed look. She let out a disgusted noise through her nose. "Dear God. Those waiters were complete halfwits. How are we going to ever consume our food if those two are right beside us? Almost makes me want to lose my appetite."

Almost.

But not nearly, since she still wanted about half the menu.

"My dearest Draco, won't you try to ignore them? I know the Mudblood's a big distraction because she's insufferable everywhere she goes, but it'd be wrong to let this beautiful night go to waste!"

"You're right," said Draco, a bit forced, turning his head back to her. "I don't even know what they're doing here. Maybe I could talk them into changing their policy about letting dirty-bloods contaminate this place." Even saying it felt wrong, as he had to literally push it out of his lips. He hadn't said or thought such negative things about her in such a long time.

"Terrible as germ-infested mice," agreed Pansy.

Draco said nothing, only looking back at her.

When the waiter came, Pansy ordered three or four things off of the menu, and Draco asked for the special, the bouillabaisse soup, not up for any heavy dining tonight. He continued to watch her, waiting for her to notice him. How could she not notice him? They'd been here fifteen minutes and all she'd done was laugh and talk and then laugh again. Draco absolutely hated it that she was having such a fantastic time.

So, getting impatient, Draco cleared his throat. "Shame they let such filthy beings into such a beautiful pure-blood place, don't you agree, Pans?" he spoke loudly, making people look over at him from some tables away.

Granger was sipping her cider as he spoke, and her eyes shot open at his voice and widened from her squinty merriment, finally discovering him, a great spurt of liquid sprayed all over Longbottom's face from her mouth. Draco couldn't help but smirk as he had noticed some had gushed out from her nose. Next thing he knew, she had slammed her glass down, coughing and sputtering, her face reddening. She thumped her fist against her chest, trying to get herself to breathe again.

Longbottom hastily grabbed his table napkin and wiped his face.

His face was pale but as couples nearby fussed, looking over at them, seeing that they had gained the attention of their half of the room, it quickly ascended into a very unflattering shade of pink.

"Hermione?" he asked nervously. "Hermione? Are you all right?"

She waved her hand to say that she was okay, though still trying to compose her coughing fit.

A disturbed and anxious waiter appeared by her side. "Miss? Miss, are you all right? Is there something wrong?"

Finally, she calmed herself down. Her face was hot and flushed. "No, no," she said, taking in a deep breath, looking embarrassed as she looked around. "There's nothing wrong. I'm fine."

The waiter nodded reluctantly before walking away.

Then she looked at Neville, her brows drawing down with guilt and humiliation. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry – I squirted cider all over your face – oh, that was terrible—"

"It's okay," he grinned, revealing his large front teeth.

As she turned to the waiting Malfoy, her gaze immediately descended into a look of evil and promising pain. She looked furious.

Draco's smirk widened.

Things were forced and awkward for a while, just like Draco had sought out to craft the rest of their evenings. Longbottom stuttered and stumbled over his words, knocked over one of his glasses, and thus was being scarred with eternal humiliation in front of Granger and would forever be saddled with the traumatic experience of being the first to having choked on air on his first date. It was pathetic, really. But Draco was enjoying it immensely.

He only smiled as Granger glared at him and he could already hear her calling him a prick, a git, a nasty little bastard, a twisted sod, an insufferable sadist, and everything that she'd wasted no time in calling him their past years. Oh yes, and "twitchy little ferret" was always a favorite. Though now he and Hermione had come to associate it with… naughty things. Naughty things that could make even Draco Malfoy blush in spite of himself.

But as they interacted no further besides the withering looks they sent each other, things began to ease back again. Despite the fact that Draco had purposely tried to threaten and intimidate Longbottom as to utterly screw his up his date, he had drunk more and more glasses of water and now seemed completely untouched and composed. He no longer twittered nervously like a little worm. He was actually speaking in complete sentences and making her laugh again.

Draco did not like this. And so he opted to ruin their evening even more, just as seeing her on a date with the Gryffindor Blubbering Catastrophe had ruined his. Sneering, he snaked his way into their conversation, ignoring Pansy, who was talking about her mother and all of the lovely outfits she had bought for her from France again.

"What's the matter, Longbottom? Trouble in paradise with that Colin Creevey? Is that why you desperately begged Granger to go out with you tonight? Or is this just a whole lust and jealousy thing you and that little mouse are going for?"

Neville paled. Then his face turned a bright crimson red that looked similarly close to a police siren. Pansy giggled. Hermione glowered.

Just as Neville was to stutter something out, his ears glowing, looking annoyed now, Granger spoke up with an icy hint in her voice.

"You leave him alone, you prick," she snapped.

So there it was. One of her pet names for him.

One of his blond brows rocketed up on his forehead, disappearing behind his bangs. "Oooh," he chuckled, "getting a bit defensive, are we? Or is there trouble in your paradise? Did Potter and Weasley decide they wanted some alone time with each other tonight? Is that it?"

Her voice sounded restricted. "I wouldn't be talking about sexual preferences right now if I were you, Malfoy," she lowly warned him. "Because I bet with a bit of bribing with Crabbe and Goyle of those pecan tarts they love so much they'll sing like a nightingale about the naughty things you've done to them."

Draco paled. Pansy's jaw dropped. Neville smiled.

Pansy came to his defense. "Listen here, you Mudblood," she hissed. "You're ruining the beautiful atmosphere with your wretchedness, so why don't you go and enjoy your dinner out on the street with the filthy rats like you always do?"

"You're one to talk, you wench," Hermione hissed back. "Malfoy only took you out tonight because he hasn't gotten any action for six months. You're his call girl, and that's all you'll ever be."

Pansy gasped, taken aback. "You take that back!" she exclaimed. "Or else I'll make you eat that wig on your head!"

"Wig?" she repeated incredulously. "It's more genuine than the pig's genitalia hair you paste on your lids for your eyelashes!"

Pansy was horrified. Her face crumpled in anger as her fists clenched beside her plate. "Oh, Granger, when I get my hands on your chubby neck…"

"Chubby? You're the one who ordered everything on the menu! You should be charged for stealing, you!" Hermione sputtered angrily. "You're the reason the earth has succumbed to world hunger! Because you're eating it all!"

Pansy let out a frustrated shriek. "You festering Mudblood!"

"Bottom-flag slag!"

"Dim-witted cow!"

"Pugface!"

"Bushy beaver!"

"Liza Minnelli!"

Pansy was confused. "Liza Minnelli? What on earth—"

"Hermione, I think we'd better go," said Neville, looking around at the people who were sending suspicious looks their way.

"No," she said firmly, giving both Draco and his date very disdainful looks, jutting out her chin. "We've yet to order our dessert. We can't let these two vultures ruin them for us."

Pansy hissed at her.

Granger ordered an exquisite ice cream sundae while Longbottom ordered a slice of the heavenly fudge chocolate cake. By then, Pansy and Draco had finished their main course and had also ordered for dessert. This time, however, they had chosen to ignore each other. Jagged tension was running high in the air like static electricity, but with stiff shoulders and robotic bites, they didn't utter a word to each other at all.

Just then, as Pansy made a slurring sound that very obviously called for Draco's attention, he detached his gaze from his begrudging girlfriend and watched her as she licked the frosting from her lips in a very slow motion. She smiled seductively at Draco as she started to speak to him in a sultry voice.

"Oh, Draco, maybe we should head back to Hogwarts now," she told him with a devilish gleam in her eye. "I've got some plans for us."

"Like what?" inquired Draco, playing along as he felt Granger's eyes on them.

"Oh, it's far too naughty to utter aloud, I assure you," she chuckled. "But here's a preview if you're so prying."

Draco's eyes suddenly enlarged as he felt something tracing up his leg and gently stroking his thigh. His mind registered the image of Pansy looking so lustfully at him and he swallowed down hard, feeling his dessert start to creep up on him again. He tried to shove her foot away, but then he remembered that they had an audience and he could sense her growing vexation.

Draco's gaze flickered over to her and smirked brazenly, taunting her. Her dark and churning eyes narrowed menacingly, and he relished her jealousy that caused fire to erupt inside her deep orbs, glinting like tiny glowing embers from a fire. Then, Granger, sticking up her nose, slowly eased her hand across the table and laid it on Neville's as she pretended to laugh at something he said. Draco's smirked pulled down into a scowl.

Pansy continued to stroke him, but Draco, realizing that she wasn't going to be looking over at them any time soon, shoved her foot away. This was getting to be a very tiring game they were playing.

Pansy frowned at him. But then an impish smile trickled out onto her red lips again. "I could entertain you far better with other parts of my body if that didn't flatter you," she said, licking her lips.

Seeing her lick her lips and Longbottom and Granger launching into a full-fledged charming conversation again with her hand still on his, Draco felt sick. He wanted to get out of here right now. Enduring a date with Pansy, hearing her eat – hell, watching her eat, experiencing her gratuitous touching in very intimate places, being forced to listen to her ramble on about diamonds and her new outfits, almost dying from her horrid perfume, suffering from the vast amounts of hairspray in her hair that could easily create electricity (yet not enough to kill her, to his great misfortune), holding back his anger as she insulted Granger with every name in the book, her strangling his arm until he was convinced it had finally detached itself from his body… he wanted to go home.

But not before he took Granger with him.

He was feeling very angry right now.

"Oh, Hermione," Draco heard the other Gryffindor say. "You've got some ice cream still left on your lip. On your bottom one. No, to the right. More to the right – wait, you've gone too far. Here, let me get it for you—" he leaned over to her, reaching out his hand to brush his thumb against her luscious lips, and Draco felt his whole body leap into the air. He had bolted from his chair and stomped over there even without his knowing, but all he knew was – he was livid.

He could touch her hand. He could give her roses. He could make her laugh. He could take her out on a date. But he could not touch her lip. Her lips were just as much Draco's territory as any part of her – he would not let another man contaminate such a heavenly thing.

He froze when Draco had appeared before their table looking like he had just started menstruating and was suffering from a little something called P – M – S. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, never expecting that he'd actually come over.

"All right, that's it," Draco fumed, feeling almost every single nerve in his brain explode. He grabbed him by his collar while the boy looked confused and shocked and even almost fearful. "Are you so eager to touch her, Longbottom? Let's take this outside."

Hermione, stunned, had her mouth hanging open.

"You heard me," growled Draco. He tugged on his collar, almost pulling him out of his chair. "Let's take this outside."

Pansy shot out of her chair, looking just as painfully mystified as everyone else. "Draco? What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to castrate the fool, what do you think?" he shouted.

The whole room became silent, looking over at them in bother and fascination. Even the rich could not resist public dramas. Especially when it might involve fisticuffs!

But it seemed Draco had already gone deaf to notice the difference.

"Oh, please, Draco!" cried Pansy. She walked to his side and clutched his arm, looking around them with tearful eyes. "Leave him alone. Let's just leave."

"I'll leave once I get him away from my girlfriend!"

The silence rang, bonding with the powerful aftershock of surprise.

"Girlfriend?" Pansy choked out. Then she beamed. "Girlfriend? Me? Oh my! You're trying to protect me!" Her cheeks flushed rosy with happiness.

"Not you, you bint!" snapped Hermione, getting to her feet. "You're not his girlfriend!"

Pansy's eyes darkened. She crossed her arms. "Then who is? You?" she snarled.

"Yes!" exclaimed Hermione.

Pansy's jaw unhinged from the rest of her face. "What?" she screamed.

"You heard me – I'm his girlfriend! So stop trying to dry-hump him, all right?" she yelled, her face shining with rage. "Because he belongs to me, you hear me, you hussy?"

"You liar!" she screeched. "My Draco would never even look twice at a wretched being like you! You're a Mudblood!"

"Girlfriend?" Neville said, looking like a ghost. "Hermione – you're—"

"That's right, she's my girlfriend, so go home before I hex you all the way there because you're not getting any tonight, you dim-witted moose!" said Draco. "I'm the one who's getting some tonight!"

"You wish!" said Hermione.

"After what I endured?" said Draco, turning his attention to her. "Hearing you kiss sodding faces with your verbal conversations and your bloody SPEW—"

"It's S.P.E.W.!" she shouted. "And – after what you endured? You endured? What about me? I had to sit and watch Pansy grope you with her foot! I had to sit and watch her hint sexual activities to you! Don't tell me you're expecting something from me tonight after what you endured!"

"How could you be his girlfriend?" shouted both Neville and Pansy, looking horrified.

"Because I love him, that's why!" she yelled.

Draco froze.

Neville froze.

Pansy froze.

Everyone else in the restaurant froze.

Then Hermione froze, realizing her words.

"You-you love me?" asked Draco quietly and rather disbelievingly.

She let out a shaky breath. She didn't look overwhelmed at all. "Yes," she told him calmly, looking him in the eye. "I do. I love you, you daft ignoramus."

"And what about you?" said Pansy accusingly, pointing at him. "Do you love her?"

Every single pair of eyes turned to look at him.

Draco felt his heart beat like a conga drum in his ears, faster and faster, dancing around a wild and exotic flame.

"I do love her."

Silence.

Neville looked like he was going to be sick. "Oh, God. I think that chocolate cake's revisiting."

A loud and high-pitched noise caused everyone to flinch in their seats and cover their ears. It was Pansy with tears in her eyes.

"How-how could you love her?" she cried. "Shagging her is one thing, Draco, but we were supposed to be married—"

"Married?" asked Hermione, gaining a very sharp edge to her voice. She was looking sternly at Draco. "Married? Draco, what on earth is she going on about?"

"Don't call him 'Draco'!" howled Pansy. "I'm the only one who's allowed to—"

"Oh, shut it," Hermione harshly hushed her.

Draco ignored Pansy's ear-shattering wails. "Nothing, she's talking about nothing," Draco assured Hermione, whose eyebrow was twitching with skepticism. "She's got this mad idea that we're meant to be together and that we're to be married – it's all very untrue and revolting—"

"I swear, Draco Malfoy, if you're going around putting ideas in her head that you're going to marry her, I'm going to take that broom of yours and stick it right up your—"

"I'm not!" yelled Draco, frustrated. "I don't want to marry her, all right? I don't love her!"

Pansy burst into catalytic sobs. "That's not what you said last night!"

"Last night?" shouted Hermione. "What about last night?"

"There was no last night!"

"You're a liar, Draco Malfoy!" Pansy continued to bawl.

Hermione crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"Granger – how could you believe anything she's tell you?" he asked her, feeling helpless with the surge of impotence drowning him. "Don't you trust me?"

"I don't know. I mean, I told you this was going to be an innocent little date. Nothing was going to happen. I just wanted a night out. Neville's my friend. You're my boyfriend. You know that. And then you came here with her," she spat venomously. "Dumb move. So don't lecture me about trust, Draco."

Draco's head spun. He felt nauseous. He did not know what was happening. Granger had turned against him too. This was not what was supposed to happen at all.

"Granger—"

"You know what? I'm leaving," she hastily told him, grabbing her purse from her seat. "Have a nice evening. Maybe Pansy and you can wed and make devil babies together!" She whirled around and rapidly walked around their table. "Oh, and thanks Neville!" said Hermione. "I had a splendid time. Sorry about all this."

But Draco wasn't quite finished yet. He ran after her, grabbing her arm. Hermione tried to yank it back, but he held on firmly.

"Let go of me," she ordered.

"You want to know why I asked Pansy?" he whispered breathily to her, his silver eyes filled with rage. "Because I was jealous, that's bloody why!"

"Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out!" Hermione told him. "But if you'd wanted me to say no to Neville, then all you had to do was ask nicely! Do you think I liked dressing up and going out to a pretty restaurant with someone that wasn't you? Do you think I liked getting roses when all I kept thinking about was you and your rotten flowers? Do you think I liked leaving you behind while I went traipsing off with Neville Longbottom?"

Draco was dumbfounded. His mouth was dry and he felt as if he had just tried to swallow his own tongue. Overwhelmed and shocked and maybe even scared for his life. He just wasn't aware something could be so easy. Ask nicely. If he'd asked her nicely not to go with him in the first place, all of this could have been so neatly avoided? Was it really that simple? It was just that nothing in his life had ever been so simple, nor simple at all.

Except, of course, when it came to loving her.

But even that took him six whole months of getting used to and trying to overcome his fierce will of denial.

"But if you didn't want to… then why did you go?" he asked her quietly. His anger quickly vanished and left him with a vaporized feeling in his skull. He felt dreamy and dazed. "I mean, if you were waiting for me to—"

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, and Draco noticed the small tears in her eyes. "I was sick of having to lie and then sneak off to meet you in the vintage bookstore, or the library, or a broom closet. I was sick of all of it. But here – here was something that was easy. I didn't have to lie. Everyone could know. I wouldn't have to feel guilty when I saw Harry or Ron. For once, there were no secrets… and I liked that. It was exhilarating." She sighed, sending him a small sad smile that Draco wished he could just kiss away for what it was doing to his heart.

Draco looked down at his feet. Then he looked back up, trying to swallow down the scratchiness of his throat. "I… I didn't know. I'm sorry… Hermione."

Hermione smiled again. She wiped her eyes. "Oh, it's all right."

But it wasn't. It wasn't all right at all. Draco felt rotten, miserable, terrible and wretched for what he'd made her go through. It hadn't been easy for him either… but he'd been so caught up in himself and trying to hide his feelings for her from everyone else that he didn't stop to think of how this was all affecting her. Hiding.

Even worse… he had been ashamed. Ashamed for being with her even when no one else knew. His father would kill him. And so would his housemates. He had dreaded the day with a furious defiance when everyone would find out of his betrayal and romantic liaison with Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Bookworm. But now he was even more ashamed – for actually caring what everyone else thought.

"Now, let's go," she whispered to him, nervously looking around. "I think we've given these people more than enough of a show tonight."

Draco nodded, solemnly looking at her. "Sure thing."

They headed towards the doors with people gaping at them, some wiping their eyes, and Draco noticed that Hermione had distanced herself from him again like they'd become so accustomed to when they were in public. He reached for her hand and pulled her closer to him, and he felt her smile grow against his bones.

They stopped at the receptionist's desk, where Aubrey Mills was dabbing his eyes with a white cloth. Draco fished out his money and held it out for him. "For the lady's company and mine," he said.

"Oh, no," said Aubrey, sniffling. "This one's on the house."

Draco gave him a small smile, tucking the money in Aubrey's shirt pocket. Before he could protest, Draco and Hermione walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand.

She cuddled close to him once they reached the wintry atmosphere. He wrapped his arm firmly around her as she slightly trembled, trying to keep her warm, feeling his heart slowly build up with her scent and her soft presence again. He then realized that there was nothing better in the world than being with her. And nothing worse than being without her.

"So I guess our secret's out," Draco told her, his breath coming out a white vapor when it released from his lips. "No more hiding."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "No more hiding."

Draco's hand tightened around hers, feeling her warmth sink into him like something holy.

Then he stopped. "Wait," he said, as she looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

"What is it? Did you forget something?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I did. Come on," he said, pulling her along.

They went back into the restaurant, which had eased into quiet mumbles again. Aubrey looked at them with wide eyes and one of the waiters was trying to comfort Pansy. Longbottom had sullenly ordered another slice of cake.

The whole room quieted again once they entered.

Draco dragged her to the middle of the room, and Hermione was confused, feeling her hand start to sweat in his.

"Draco?" she whispered. "What's going on? Your table's over there."

"I know."

When they were finally in the middle, feeling everyone's eyes on them, Draco placed his hands gently on her waist and she looked at him bewilderedly.

"Draco, what's—"

He leaned close and kissed her, well aware of everyone's wary eyes set on them, wrapping his arms around her waist and bringing her closer to him.

Pansy's wails shook the earth.

End.

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