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"No. No, I don't think so," he said, turning away, unwilling to let her see his disappointment.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Why not?" she demanded. He'd been on her for weeks to agree. Now that she did, he'd changed his mind.
"I didn't want you to agree just to shut me up, Granger. If you seriously didn't want to then you could have told me that two weeks ago. I don't want just anything." He'd thought she'd wanted him to work for it. He hadn't thought she was serious in her objections. He'd thought wrong. "I just want something real."
"Malfoy…"
"Don't," he interrupted. "Just don't. I had it wrong," disastrously wrong. He loathed being wrong nearly as much as he loathed being pitied. He couldn't stomach the idea of turning around and seeing pity written across her face. Her adorable face, with those huge brown eyes and rosy cheeks, and that lock of utterly impossible hair that refused all her attempts to shove it out of her way. He'd emulated that lock of hair, thinking if he was as tenacious then perhaps she'd… he shoved those thoughts aside. It wasn't to be.
"I thought you were having me on."
"You thought wrong," he replied.
"Yes, I can see that now. I didn't before. You were so … glib," Hermione sighed.
"Of course I was glib. Although I prefer to think of it as being persuasive in my eloquence, if it's all the same to you." Malfoys were smooth-tongued devils. What was that term Granger used sometimes when describing the Malfoy hair and eyes? Ah, yes. Genetic, it was genetic that he'd try a suave approach but that didn't make it any less sincere. Sincere. Oh, bollocks. He'd been too busy keeping up his defenses to remember she liked sincerity.
"Won't you look at me?" her soft voice pleaded with him.
"I'd much rather not. You see I'd prefer to keep what little pride I have left." At least that had been sincere.
"Then would you mind doing me a favor before you go?"
"I'm listening," he replied.
He heard movement behind him but he was rooted to the spot. Draco only hoped she wouldn't do something bothersome and pushy like shoving her way in front of him so he'd have no choice but to look at her and see the pity written there.
"Ask me again. Please?"
"Again? Why?"
"So I can say yes properly this time, silly," she said in that bossy tone she used when she thought something should be obvious.
Draco hated that tone of voice. It always went straight to his groin. How did she expect a bloke to make a graceful exit when he was sporting an erection? Wait. She said … "So you can say yes?" he asked, thinking it best to confirm what he'd heard. "Properly?" he repeated. She couldn't mean … That would mean … A huge grin split his pointy face. So he wasn't wrong after all. How … interesting.
"Stop that!" Hermione demanded, smacking his bicep with the back of her hand.
"Ow! Watch it, witch," he caught her hand and held it down gently. He didn't want to hurt her. "Pale skin bruises easily, you know." Draco looked at her now but it wasn't pity he saw, only a sort of intense curiosity and … Well, wasn't that interesting, too. Slowly, deliberately, Draco captured her other hand, watching for any sign he might be taking it too far but the only signs he saw were dilating pupils and ragged breathing. Neither one an indication his actions were unwelcome.
"Well?" Hermione looked up expectantly.
"Well, what?" Draco looked down at her and smirked. He'd regained the upper hand and he intended to keep it. It was just like his fiery Gryffindor to give herself away and how like his sneaky Slytherin self to take advantage of it.
"Well, aren't you going to ask me again?" She demanded, huffing that unruly strand of hair away.
"No. I don't think I will," he told her but when her face immediately fell, he could see she'd not been entirely aware that his game had changed. He'd be very happy to educate her.
Oh yes. Very, very happy to educate her, Draco thought. She did enjoy learning after all. "I think I'd much rather tell you this time, if it's all the same to you, Granger." Releasing one of her hands, Draco brought his hand up to tuck that stray bit of hair behind her ear.
"Tell? What do you mean, tell?" Hermione reached up and batted his hand away. "I hate having my hair pushed behind my ear!" She shook her head viciously and scratched behind her ear like a pup with an itch trying to rid herself of the unwelcome feel.
"My apologies. I shan't do that again," this time when he reached out, he whispered a spell as he pulled his fingers through her hair, moving the lock to its proper place where it stayed.
"How?" Draco chuckled as she looked out of the top corner of her eye as if to see what he'd done through her skull. She fingered her hair and he could see her surprise to find it was soft and touchable despite being held perfectly in place.
He tsked. "Sorry, love. Ancient Malfoy secret. You'll have to wait for our wedding."
"Wedding!?! Are you mad?"
"Oh, not right away. I plan to make you wait you a reasonable amount of time before I fully succumb to your feminine charms. It wouldn't do for a Malfoy to appear too easy a catch, after all. I'm thinking six months ought to do. Any less and people will think you trapped me. Any longer and people will think I had to coerce you. Neither of those are as suitable as people knowing we're a love match," he pronounced. "Although, we'll have to be cautious about starting our family. It wouldn't do for you to become pregnant first thing."
"Malfoy! You can't go from weeks of asking a girl for a date to telling her you'll be getting married in six months!" Hermione stomped her foot and automatically huffed to move that ridiculous bit of hair away, but scowled when there was nothing there to huff at. His charm had held. "And what's wrong with becoming pregnant first thing?"
Draco noticed she didn't object to notion of pregnancy, only the delay. He fought down a cheer. Aroused by being restrained, willing to have children, glorious eyes and positively wild hair, he was going to be incandescently happy with her.
"Granger, everyone will be counting months. We'll have to wait so there's no doubt you weren't knocked up when we married. Malfoys do not spread their seed indiscriminately and you are not an easy lay. I won't give anyone a reason to think otherwise. Six month until we wed. Six more until we start trying for children. I won't be rushed into this, witch. We'll do it right." He tilted her chin to improve the angle. "Now say, 'Yes, Malfoy' and kiss me."
He hadn't been entirely sure she wouldn't hex him, but her breathless, "Yes," had him cheering inside.
Draco let go of her other hand to snake his around her waist to bring her close to kiss her. He didn't get that far, however. The second she had both hands free, Hermione did … something with her body that pinned him to the door. He thought for a moment she'd only been toying with him, but that thought was replaced with the one that realized her body was better under those sensible robes than he'd imagined. She sunk her short claws into the back of his neck and pulled his head down aggressively for a deep, primal kiss.
"You're being very high-handed," Hermione said when they finally came up for air.
"Cauldron. Kettle. Black," he waved it off, fully aware that while it might have sounded like a complaint, her eyes told a different story.
"I shouldn't accept your offer, you know," she challenged him.
"As you please. I already told you I wasn't asking this time. I'm telling. I've decided that the only choice you have in the matter is whether or not to open the door when I show up. That will be Friday at seven-thirty, by the way. I'm taking you to dinner and dancing."
"Dancing?" Hermione's face lit up. "I love dancing!"
"Yes. I know," he drawled smugly. "None of that loud Weird Sisters garbage. A small, dignified orchestra playing music so I can hold you close and we can hear each other when speaking. You will wear something elegant with pretty, yet comfortable slippers that will not hurt your feet. I will look impeccable as always. We will take a nice stroll in the courtyard just before midnight. At the stroke of twelve, I will take you in my arms and kiss you."
"And we'll fall madly in love," she continued for him.
Draco drew her against him, lifting her and turning their bodies so that she was the one pinned to the door. Merlin, she was spectacular. No conventional society beauty simpering for attention and ready to cede to his every demand would do for Draco Malfoy. No. As much as Draco loved having his way, he wanted to have his way because it was what his witch wanted too.
"And we'll fall madly in love," he agreed.
"All right, Malfoy. I'll go out with you," she told him, wriggling until she was satisfied with her position between him and the door.
"I should certainly hope so. I don't let my defenses down for just anyone, Granger. I'm terribly afraid you're mine now and I plan to keep you," Draco said as he lowered his head to capture her lips once again.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Malfoy. There just one thing," she said when he released her lips after another of those mind blowing kisses.
"Which is?" he wondered what sort of demand she would make, hopefully not that he get on with Potty and Weasel.
"That you teach me that hair charm now. I need it for Friday."