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This was ridiculous. How this was going to teach him anything, Hermione didn’t know. What she did know, was that this was probably going to end in disaster. It’s not like they were even doing anything important like volunteering at a shelter for the homeless or donating their time to cheering up sick children. No, instead the Ministry had assigned her to take Draco sodding Malfoy to her childhood home and have him help her “deck the halls”, without magic. Some rehabilitation that was.
They had arrived in the late morning, taking the train from Hogwarts to King’s Cross, then Apparating to the shed behind her house. Hermione hadn’t spoken to Draco since they’d been assigned to each other, other than pleasantries, and he was beginning to feel awkward. She couldn’t help it, they’d never been on good terms, and now she had to spend the first three days of her holiday break with the bastard. Hermione had planned to spend her time--before this wretched assignment had been given--crying and remembering the happier times, like when she actually had parents who remembered who she was. Instead she had to spend this time with the man who’d made her life hell from the moment she met him.
Upon arriving at her home, she had promptly dropped his hand that she’d been forced to hold so she could Side-Along him, and stomped toward her house, entering through the back door. Hermione didn’t even stop to check to see if he had followed her inside. If he hadn’t, she couldn’t care less. Let him freeze out there , she thought.
“Granger-”
She halted so suddenly at the sound of his voice from behind her that Draco walked right into her. She stumbled forward a step from the force of his body coming into contact with hers, and was even more startled to feel his hands reach out and steady her by the shoulders. Hermione quickly whipped around and glared at the blonde nuisance.
“Malfoy,” she ground out from between her clenched jaw.
Draco glared right back at her and continued, “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but I’m trying to do what is required of me here. Can’t we just, I don’t know, pretend you don’t hate me for three days and get this over with as pleasantly as possible?”
Hermione gaped at him. “Just get this over with? And I suppose you’re going to pretend you don’t hate me as well?”
Draco’s gaze dropped to his feet and his voice came out barely above a whisper, “I don’t hate you, Granger.” He didn’t really, not anymore. Jealous maybe, but Draco would never admit that to her.
Hermione’s mouth opened and shut repeatedly until she huffed, turned around, and stomped off. Draco was left standing in her kitchen as he heard her slam a door. No less than fifteen minutes later, Hermione returned and he was standing where she’d left him, still just staring at his feet.
“Look, you’re right, we should just get this over with. We have to spend the next three days together, whether I like it or not, but you don’t have to lie. You’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about me from the moment we met. You worked pretty hard to let me know how superior you think you are just because I was born to Muggles; I don’t need you to sugarcoat it.”
Draco clenched his fists at his sides before responding. “Listen, I know what a right bastard I’ve been to you, but it’s not because I hate you. Okay, maybe I did, but I don’t now. I haven’t for a long time, really.” He glanced up at her to see her eyes narrowed and a frown gracing her lips. “I had been taught, practically from birth, mind you, that Muggle-borns couldn’t be any of the things that you are-intelligent, adept with a wand, kind.” Pretty, but he kept that one to himself. “My father did not like that you bested me at almost everything and I took the frustration his disappointment in me caused, out on you. I apologise for that.”
“You apologise?”Hermione exclaimed. “He apologises! Merlin, help me. If you think, for one second, that makes up for anything , you are sorely mistaken!”
“I don’t, but it’s all I have,” Draco admitted. “I’d really like to leave here without major incident so I thought I’d at least try to make peace. Apologising to the people we’ve hurt is one of the steps encouraged by the rehabilitation programme.”
Hermione didn’t really know what to do with that so she decided to just get on with it.
“Ugh, whatever, Malfoy, I’ll show you to your room then we can get on with this stupid experiment.”
Some time later, once Draco was settled in his room, they reconvened back in the kitchen. Hermione spent the next couple of hours dragging out boxes, making ample use of his strength by having him carry the heaviest of boxes. She had to admit that Draco didn’t look half bad with his usually slicked back hair falling into his eyes, and a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. It really wasn’t fair that she thought he looked so good, when she hated him so much. Shouldn’t the outside match the inside? His insides had always seemed so rotten.
“Well, would you like to take a hot chocolate break before we get started?” she asked as he set the last of the boxes on the dining table.
“Sure, but I don’t know what you need a break for, Granger, I’m pretty sure I did all the work here,” Draco grumbled.
“Jesus Christ, Malfoy, it was just a couple boxes, and I’ll make the hot chocolate so you can relax your precious pureblood arms,” Hermione snarled at him. She let a saccharine smile grace her face as she used her wand to prepare the hot chocolate.
“Funny, witch, rubbing it in my face that I’m wandless here,” Draco sneered, “As if I could forget.”
They drank their beverages in silence after that. Once they were finished, Hermione put their cups in the sink to wash later and started opening up boxes of decorations.
“Would you like to start with the tree or the outside lights?” she asked him.
“I’m going to go with lights, let's make it as tacky as we can, shall we?” Draco smirked at her.
"It is not tacky," Hermione snapped back. "I happen to like a well lit house at Christmas time. And it's not like we've got a full on light show happening inside these boxes." She picked up one of the bigger boxes and headed towards the front door.
“So she can lift a box,” Draco said as he picked up another of the boxes labeled Lights and made to follow her.
“Of course I can, Malfoy, I was just enjoying watching you do it.” Draco could hear the laughter in her voice as she said it.
“I can see why, do all Muggle women wear jeans that show off their arses like yours do?” he responded. She almost dropped the box she was carrying and Draco chuckled.
“Stop staring at my arse and just follow me out here,” she said as she tried to fight the blush flooding her cheeks.
“I’ll follow you, but no promises, you’ve been hiding quite a lot under your robes, Granger,” Draco couldn’t help himself. He’d been harboring a crush on the feisty little witch for quite some time and they were finally being pleasant towards each other. Besides he was starting to get under her skin, and he was quite amused by that.
“You are incorrigible, Malfoy. Flirting with me? Really?” Hermione tried to play it cool - no use in him knowing that the thought of him staring at her arse caused a flood of sensations in her that she hadn’t been prepared for. This was going to be a long weekend , she mused.
Hermione bent down to place the box she was carrying onto the porch before stepping inside to grab her coat. Draco had to suppress a groan as he watched her bend over, before he did the same.
Once they were both back outside, donning their coats, Hermione started digging through the boxes. She found some simple white lights to wrap around the bannisters and some icicle lights to go along the edge of the awning. Inside one of the boxes she found the staple gun and handed it to Draco.
“What the bloody hell is this?” he asked.
“That is going to help you string the lights up there.” She pointed at the edge of the awning. “It’s called a staple gun.” She laughed when she saw Draco’s eyes widen at the word ‘gun’.
“It’s not that kind of gun, Malfoy. Look, I’ll show you,” she explained as she stepped up next to him. “Hold the lights like this,” she demonstrated, then placed her hand over his on the staple gun,”then just press with the heel of your hand and, voila, Muggle sticking charm,” she said with a wink.
"What do you mean I have to string them up, Granger? Do I look like I'm made to work with my hands?" Draco responded, he would have asked sooner, but he was distracted by her proximity and the feel of her hand on his.
“For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, it’s not dangerous. If you just start it will be over before you know it. I promise it won’t hurt you.”
Draco grumbled as he set off to finish the string of lights. They worked in silence, save the click of the staple gun as he moved along the awning. Hermione set to wrapping her lights around the banisters, using a sticking charm since she was allowed to use magic. Every now and then she would glance up at him to see his arms raised above his head, a look of concentration on his face. After a while she let her gaze roam and couldn’t help the warm pooling that formed in her belly as she caught the sliver of skin his shirt would reveal each time he raised his arms. He had a slender build but those damned abs were sent from the gods themselves, and no girl she’d ever met could resist that v shape that formed between the hips of a well toned man.
She was broken from her reverie by a loud yelp followed by Draco cursing.
“Fuck, FUCK, Granger you fucking promise this stupid, bloody, fucking piece of shit gun wasn’t going to hurt me!” Draco exclaimed.
She quickly stood up and ran over to him on the opposite side of the porch.
“What happened, Malfoy?” she inquired, though she wasn’t too concerned, it was just a staple gun.
“I think I stapled my thumb! That’s what bloody happened!” he shouted.
Hermione grabbed his hand to take a look, and sure enough a droplet of blood was forming on the pad of his thumb. Before she even thought about that she was doing, she brought his thumb to her lips and suckled at it, both of their eyes blew wide as they made eye contact.
“I, uh, I-I’m not sure why I did that. It’s just s-something my mum used to do when something like this would h-happen,” Hermione stammered. When Draco didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at her, she spoke again, “Let’s go inside, I have some dittany in my bag.”
Hermione dropped his hand and turned to go inside but was stopped when she felt him grab her hand once again and spin her around. She barely got out a squeak before she found herself pressed up against the front door, his lips crashing down into hers. His tongue licked the line between her lips and as she let out a gasp he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Hermione reciprocated with her own tongue, using it to massage his, before pushing him away.
“What the fuck, Malfoy?” she breathed.
“I’m not sure why I did that. My mum definitely never did that when something like this would happen.” Draco replied as he looked down at her.
She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. As she continued to stare into his eyes, both of them breathing hard, she only thought for a moment before she pulled him back through the door she was just pressed against. Once inside she led him up the stairs towards her bedroom, the dittany was in her bag on her bed. She pulled out the vial and placed a small drop on his thumb as they sat in silence. She watched the tiny hole disappear then looked back up into his cool, silvery gaze.
It was Hermione this time that crashed into him. Her mouth covered his bottom lip as she pulled at it with her teeth. Draco groaned at this and she let her tongue wander into his mouth to taste him again. Spearmint , she thought as the kiss continued.
Draco didn’t know what to think. He might have had a crush on her, but he’d never in his wildest dreams thought he’d find himself in this position with her. He wasn’t going to question it though, by some miracle it was happening and he was going to let it.
Draco’s hands found their way to her jaw then slipped back to cradle her head, his fingers threading through her hair. He gave a gentle tug and her head fell back as he trailed wet kisses down her throat and back up again. Draco kept expecting her to push him away again, hell Hermione, kept expecting herself to push him away again, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d never felt fire like this before, her skin and lips burning everywhere he kissed and touched her.
Hermione’s hands only trembled slightly as they reached the hem of his shirt to lift it over his head. “You’ve been hiding a lot under those robes, Malfoy,” she said with a grin as she looked at him.
A rumbling growl sounded from his chest as he pushed back onto her bed, finding his way between her thighs. He kissed her again as he used one hand to rip the buttons of her shirt open, the other holding himself up above her. When the shirt was open, he let his fingers trail along the skin on her stomach. Had anything ever been so soft? he wondered.
“Malfoy, I don’t want to just get this over with, but if you don’t hurry up and touch me I might die,” Hermione managed to get out.
“Draco, Hermione, call me Draco, please,” he practically begged as he himself used her name for the first time.
Shivers made their way up her spine at the sound of her name tumbling from his lips.
“Draco,” she whispered looking up at him. “Please.”
Later as they lay intertwined and sated, Hermione’s hand now doing the tracing on the taught skin of Draco’s stomach, she couldn’t stop thinking about how fast it all had happened. She had never done anything like that, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it, no matter how much she thought she should.
She glanced up at him to find his eyes closed and his breathing that of a deep slumber. Hermione laid her head back down on his chest and whispered, “I don’t think I hate you either, Draco,” before allowing herself to slip into sleep as well. She missed the small smile that formed as the arm wrapped underneath her drew her even closer into him while he placed a small kiss to the top of her head.
Draco knew she’d be freaking out come morning, it was a good thing he had two more days to convince her it wasn’t a mistake.