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The Best Of...	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13807 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I own nothing of HP nor do I profit in any way from these missives. I almost own the laptop I'm writing this fanfic on, tho'.

Chapter List
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“So you’ve decided, have you? Takin’ your old man’s advice for once?”

The smug look from the young wizard communicated everything the older wizard needed to know.

“C’mon, now. Like father, like son. Someone has to take this nonsense in hand and lead.”

A hearty slap landed loudly on the back of the tall, handsome young wizard.

“We’ll start planning after dinner. The ones who can make this happen for you are in that school. Come this time next year most will be of age. Start your campaign when you get back.”

“Do we have a chance? This unity shite ruins my meals most days.”
“Old Voldie got it part right. Not all created equal like those bloody Yanks keep preachin’ to the world. Got their arses puckered tryin’ to make that work, they have. We’ll work more on that plan after dinner.”

A quick kiss to the serving witch setting the table would bring a change in topic as they seated themselves for dinner. But not before the cagey wizard punctuated the last topic with a doozy of a conclusion.

“We’ll make it work this time, boy. Old Voldie just picked the wrong pure-bloods; Malfoys have been wealthy cowards for generations except that old bastard Abraxas — that wizard had bollocks big as two bludgers, he did. The ‘betters’ will set this to right, mark my words, son.”

On arriving back in their Commons, Hermione was first to notice that the space had been transformed into a tailor’s workroom. Rolling racks of robes lined the walls. Bolts of fabric lay neatly folded on virtually every flat surface. Against the back of the sofa a three-panel full-length mirror stood behind a broad, low pedestal, ready for use. Their sofa table, presently hidden by the mirror, held an assortment of undergarments, stockings, shoes and gloves.

“Draco?…”

“Mr. Malfoy," a familiar voice spoke, "you’re right on time. Let’s get started.”
“Draco???… What’s going on?” Hermione tried again, backpedalling towards the fireplace.
“You need a new dinner gown. Madame Malkin offered to assist on short notice.”
“Is that where you were this morning? And what’s wrong with my new Christmas gown!?”
“It’s been seen, therefore it’s not new. Time for something different.”
“I will NOT have you buying me more expensive presents!”
“I will NOT have you visiting Malfoy Manor for a formal dinner with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy without proper attire!”

Forgotten in the argument, Madame Malkin leaned against the sofa back, enjoying the parry and thrust between two well-matched semi-romantic combatants.

“I have two perfectly acceptable gowns in my closet!”

“And neither is suitable for an encounter with my parents, Granger!”
“Would anyone else like tea?” the seamstress interjected on her way to the renovated kitchen.
“Yes, please.” and “No!” smashed into each other.

Hiding a smile, Linia Malkin made her way to the kitchen for a cuppa.

“Draco, I’m uncomfortable with these expensive gifts.”

“And I’m uncomfortable when you’re not properly outfitted.”

Molten lava undulated behind those brandy-colored eyes of hers.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t go. I don’t want to SHAME you!”

Pacing their Commons, Draco raked his fingers through his hair and exhaled loud enough to be heard at St. Andrew’s University (wherever it was). Struggling to choose words unlikely to cause a duel in their Commons, the young Slytherin tried again.

“During the war, did you go anywhere without your wand or your protective charms?”

“Don’t be ridiculous; you know the answer to that!”
“In pure-blood society your clothes, your jewels, your attitude… they’re all part of your protection, your… armor that puts you on the same footing as every other person in the room.”
“If I’m to be the subject of ridicule, why take me?”

The heat in her unwavering stare turned to cloudiness as hurt settled in against her wishes.

“Mother invited you, so I doubt you have anything to fear from her, and Father —”

“Your father is a small concern at best.”

Gods! I love your cheek, Gryffindor…

“But there may be other guests…”

Swiftly he joined her, his mood shifting like quicksilver.

“Lioness, I want them to see you — to know you are the most phenomenal witch of any generation. The clothes will help.”

Yes! the Machiavellian voice in his head celebrated when his thumbs, rubbing her hands as he held them, caused her to back down. One more push and she’d relent.

“Please, Lioness?”

“Will it make you feel more at ease?”

Okay… Maybe one more one more push…

“Definitely.”

The weight of her chin now rested in the curve of his soft hand as his eyes thanked her for her surrender.

Those eyes could talk me into anything, Dragon…

Linia Malkin Accio’d several boxes of revealing lingerie to the Heads’ tower from her shop. A young couple this combustable —

“Fine, Dragon, bring on the dress.”

— would require a lot of making up.

Within the hour the bickering had escalated to full-scale confrontation.

“No! I will not wear this!”

“Must you interfere where you aren’t qualified? The dress should be worn with the opening in the front!”
“Draco, that SLIT opens eight inches below my NAVEL! I will NOT attend a formal dinner at Malfoy Manor and have your FATHER accuse me of modeling boudoir lingerie!”

So you DO know what boudoir lingerie is, Lioness…

An irate Hermione, stomping her feet on the tailor’s stand, sent temporary magical stitches in the dress flying in every direction.

Your father is NOT the Malfoy I’ll be modeling that lingerie for, Draco!…

Trapped between the clothing customer and the paying “customer”, Madame Malkin made her way once again to the expanded kitchen while Draco and Hermione worked out the final design for the gown — yet again — at the tops of their lungs.

Filling the ample teapot with spring water from the cistern Hermione added to their pantry, the seamstress cranked the stovetop eye full flame before banging the kettle down to heat. In the intervening kettle-heating time, the couturier made no secret of her doings — searching every cabinet in sight for brandy or firewhiskey to add to her tea. The noise in the background continued unabated for some time. Placing a heaping portion of Silver Tips Makaibari Tea (one of the world’s most expensive teas at £600 per ounce) in the infuser, Linia thanked Morgana that Draco Malfoy preferred the best of teas and justified her consumption as payment for designing and producing a dress in less than a day while refereeing between this burgeoning power couple.

“Hermione, your legs cause priapism when you walk down the street in short robes. Ask Blaise if you don’t believe me! For Merlin’s sake — don’t hide them!”

“Priapism? You’re making that up.”
“I am NOT! It’s a medical term for an unrelenting erection and I am very familiar with the condition!”

In the missing pieces of fabric from her work-in-progress formal gown, a healthy red color glowed from Hermione’s blush. Draco noted it as it sheeted downward from eight inches below her navel and made its way to her ankles as witnessed through the slit in her dress.

Look closer, Lioness. Can’t you see me suffering right now?…

“That’s difficult to believe. You’ve had a long line of admirers trailing behind for years.”

I’d hate for you to be in pain, Dragon…

“Had. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m no longer interested in quantity.”

Unless it’s quantity YOU…

“It’s time to stop hiding, Granger. Be brave.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re going home.”
“Fear not, Gryffindor! You will dazzle all with your breathtaking beauty and scintillating intellect.”

Draco’s words were accompanied by a swashbuckling move as he drew and brandished an invisible rapier in the air before bowing low before his damsel.

“Make yourself scarce so Madame Malkin and I can finish this ‘masterpiece’ in time for dinner.” his flatmate laughed.

“That’s more like it. I expect you to be bewitching, Princess.” and with a flourish worthy of a Caribbean pirate, the arrogant heir swaggered off to his bedchamber to rest and change into his formal robes.

Yesterday’s Daily Prophet, thin though the edition was, left redness where it whacked him under Hermione’s magical control.

“Turn, Miss Granger, so I can close this seam again.” Madame Malkin directed.

Brought back to the present, Hermione changed positions on the tailor’s stand while silently steeling herself to meet Draco’s parents.

“More like Bluebeard’s wife Boulotte headed for slaughter…” the resigned beauty muttered under her breath.

“Boulotte survived, Granger!”

The shouted commentary to words she’d never meant for him to hear explained the unopened gift Draco received from George Weasley.

She’d wallop the surviving twin for those Extensible Ears tomorrow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Trelweny: The Ministry serves itself as does any long-lasting government :D And pure-bloods have been serving their own interests for millenia.
HarryGinny4eva: I have always believed that first dates between friends have a secret dialogue that brings heat and anticipation. Hope it came through.
Victoria: Though he has mastered the art of making cowardly decisions, I love Lucius because, in the end, he desparately worked to save his son. I also love the fact that Narcissa got the bollocks in the Malfoy family :D.
Anon: I do write very direct and to the point. I prefer to paint impressions and let reader dial in their own focus points. I am taking your comment to heart; have you noticed the greater detail in the holiday chapters?
HarryGinny4eva: This one will take time as the reason for their respective attractions - and the number of impediments to having a simple, post-war romantic relationship - dictate the pacing. Plus I need to taunt and tease Lucius a while longer; it's SO much fun! :D
ChaosLady. I LOVE Weasley chaos. The folks I know who come from big families inform me how loving 'chaos' ensues when they gather. :D
FieryPhoenix: I too am looking forward to 'the dinner'. :D
Mrs. M: I like to torment Ron because he is just not Hermione's equal for me. Doesn't mean he's not a nice guy but I can't see them together without her hexing him every day. So I let Draco do it for her. :D
Victoria: I came very late in life to the study of history. What I've learned is the declaration of victory is the beginning of less war and not its end. Losers don't just lay down arms and sing peace songs. The pure-blood issues will take time to resolve. A lot is still wrong in wizarding Britain.
Tigerrose110203: Thank you. It's harder than I thought it would be when I started this. Letting the sex come slowly and naturally is KILLING me! :D

Like all the authors on this and every fanfiction site, I love to hear from you; it stimulates my thinking and keeps me writing.
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