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To Be Himself	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11253 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.

Chapter List
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“He’s much better than that ginger monstrosity you used to bring around,” Jude commented as she plucked a starter from the tray Hermione had deposited on the low table before the couch in the family room. She took a dainty bite as her daughters nodded in agreement.
“Ron was disgusting,” Peg said.
“And poor,” Isabelle added.
Hermione glared at all three of them from where she sat in an oversized armchair in the far corner of the room. “Ron is still a very dear frie-” she started but was cut-off when Peg spoke again.
“Daddy,” she said with an innocent smile at Len, “you’ve always been so good at guessing these things…how much money do you suppose Draco makes in a year?”
Len shrugged as he read the newspaper he’d lifted from a side table. “Given what he drives and the quality of his clothing and his posture…I imagine it’d be close to-”
“Twenty million Pounds,” Draco answered for him as he came into the room with Imogen still on his arm. “That’s only annual net income of course,” he added.
The room’s occupants gaped at him.
“Twenty million?” Jude verified with a hand to her chest.
Draco nodded idly and then turned to Imogen. “You have such a lovely home. Everything is so tastefully decorated. If you don’t mind my asking, who was your interior designer?”
Imogen stared at him for a moment and then batted her lashes at him. “Why…I decorated everything myself,” she simpered smugly.
“You have a gift,” he said, patting her arm before releasing it. “Thank you for showing me around.”
“Of course,” she said, leaning over to pick up the last appetizer from the tray. She handed it to Draco who took it from her with a gracious smile.
“Last one, but don’t worry…” she said in a hushed tone as if it were a special secret, “dinner will be done any moment.”
“I can hardly wait,” he said and then looked around the room at the others and focused on Hermione who was glowering at him.
“Are you feeling alright, love?” he asked her. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m just fine, thank you, dearest,” she snapped.
“Ugh,” Isabelle groaned from where she was sitting on a loveseat beside her sister, “she gets all moody like this every year.”
“Ignore her,” Peg said to Draco, scootching over slightly and patting a hand to the space between her and Isabelle, “Come sit by us.”
Draco eyed the two girls and then glanced back at a sour looking Hermione.
“I’d rather hoped to sit next to Hermione, if it’s all the same,” he declined, walking over to where Hermione was sitting. “May I?” he asked, motioning to the chair she was occupying. She cocked an eyebrow up at him.
“This won’t fit both of us,” she said.
“Sure it will, here…” he said, popping the salmon-covered cracker into his mouth and then tugging her up by her hands. He sat and pulled Hermione back down onto his lap. She tensed when he put his arms around her waist and settled comfortably back in the chair.
“See,” he said after swiftly swallowing, “nice and cozy. Just like we do at home.”
Hermione’s eyes went wide. “We don’t have a home,” she contradicted him, realizing too late that she’d broken one of the terms of their agreement. “Aahh!” she cried out as the punishing burn of the vow struck her.
“Heavens,” Jude exclaimed with a hand to her chest as Hermione doubled over on Draco’s lap.
“Are you alright?” he asked her worriedly.
“Like you care,” she breathed at him as the pain ebbed.
“I do,” he whispered back, rubbing a hand over her back. She sat up straight and craned her neck around to look at him.
“How are you able to stand this pain?” she asked under her breath.
Something dark flashed in Draco’s eyes. “I haven’t felt one jolt,” he said very quietly, “I haven’t broken the vow.”
Hermione stared at him as if trying to figure out a difficult equation until Imogen loudly cleared her throat.
“Ahem…”
Hermione and Draco both snapped their attention back to the room’s other occupants and then instinctively shrunk back into the chair together at the intense gazes being cast at them.
“Care to explain what that was about?” Imogen demanded of them.
“I got a cramp,” Hermione blurted out before turning a bright shade of pink.
“Gross,” Jett said from his place before the television.
“Well, that explains a lot,” Peg and Isabelle said together.
Draco calmly turned his attention to them as Hermione tensed again. “What do you ladies do for fun?” he asked them in seeming sincerity to change the subject. They dimpled at him.
“Oh, we do lots of things,” Isabelle answered for the both of them, “shopping, clubbing, modeling…”
“We’re very involved in a number of famous social circles in London,” Peg added proudly. “We’d be happy to introduce you.”
“I’m sure the lad’s already well-connected,” Len said casually.
No one seemed to take any notice of his comment and Jude added proudly, "My girls are studying fashion."
Draco smiled at them. "Of course they are," he said. They predictably blushed.
"Jett's just been accepted into an apprenticeship," Imogen said, the competitive edge clear in her voice.
"I don't think one can call working as a farmhand an apprenticeship,” Len drawled behind his paper. Imogen glared in his direction but, before she could retort, Draco spoke up.
“Now, Len, my good man,” he said professionally, “surely you wouldn’t deny that the very foundation of economic success for any nation is the agricultural workforce.”
Imogen beamed at him as Len lowered the paper.
The beeping of a timer suddenly sounded from the kitchen.
“Oh blast it all,” Imogen said, pushing up from where she’d sat upon a chair, “that’ll be the turkey.”
Everyone watched her rush away through the kitchen door and then brought their attention back to the room. Len smirked at Draco.
“I find it interesting that someone as obviously wealthy as you would take an interest in the common working man,” he said.
Draco gave him a tight smile. “The common working man keeps my company running,” he said.
Hermione looked over her shoulder at him with a look of pure astonishment. “Since when have you car-”
She stopped herself from finishing her thought with an expression that conveyed a concern that it might somehow violate the vow and looked forward again. Draco’s arms tightened slightly around her.
“No,” Len said as if Hermione had not spoken, “investors…investors are what keep business running as it should. So long as the backers are happy, to hell with the working man.”
Draco frowned slightly. “I won’t deny the importance of a proper financial backing, but without a workfor-”
“Machines,” Len interrupted, “that’s what machines are for.”
“Never trusted machines,” Draco said, “I prefer people and I make sure my people know they’re appreciated. In fact, I made certain that every last one of my employees received a bonus last quarter.”
Len rubbed at his chin and looked impressed despite having been countered and Jude, Peg and Isabelle all stared at him admiringly.
“Did he really?” Peg asked, looking to Hermione.
“How much did he give you?” Isabelle followed.
Hermione barely stopped from rolling her eyes. “I – don’t – work – for – his – company,” she said clear and loud. “I work with it. I’m not his employee. This is not an office romance.”
“But it is a romance,” Draco purred next to her ear with a grin. He placed a peck to her temple and she stiffened in his arms. Before she could respond he went on to address the twins’ inquiries, “Though if she were my employee, I’d have given her a very special bonus.”
He winked and popped his hips beneath her. “Still might.”
Hermione blushed crimson as Len smirked, Jude gasped and Peg and Isabelle looked put-out with jealousy at the blatant sexual innuendo.
“I don’t appreciate you talking like that in my house, boy,” Sal shouted over his shoulder without turning away from the television he and Jett were watching.
“What’s he grumbling about now?” Imogen asked in annoyance as she poked her head into the room.
Everyone looked at Draco and he smiled sweetly. “I made a reference to my physical affections for Hermione,” he answered honestly, “he said he didn’t appreciate it.”
Imogen glowered across the room at her husband. “Yes, well…the only physical affection he’s going to get is my boot up his arse if he doesn’t get his useless hide in here and help me move this food into the dining room!”
“Do it yourself!” he hollered back.
“Sal, if you don’t get in here I’ll cook you nothing for a month!” she threatened. Sal muttered loudly as he rocked forward to push up from the couch.
“Food’s shite, anyhow,” he continued to grumble as he dragged his feet across the room. He glanced sideways at Draco as he passed. “Fuckin’ little wanker,” he spit out before moving on to where Imogen was. They glared at each other hatefully as she held the door open wider for him to pass and then they both disappeared behind it.
“Don’t let him upset you,” Jude said as she turned back to Draco, “he’s rude to everyone.”
Draco shrugged. “I’m not upset in the least. I’ve taken my share of curses before. I think I can handle his less than original attempt at an insult.”
Hermione slowly turned to look at him again but, before their eyes could meet, Imogen had popped her head back into the room.
“Dinner is ready!”
Len, Jude, Peg, Isabelle and Jett all rose at once and hurried toward the door. Draco released his arms from Hermione’s middle and she hopped up from his lap. She looked up at him as he stood as well.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked irritably, not waiting for a response before turning to go follow the others.
“It’d be better if they weren’t here,” Draco whispered back. She gave a sarcastic chuckle.
“I’m sure.”
He didn’t respond but followed close behind her, his hand at the small of her back, as they filed into the dining room where the others had all spread out around the large table there to take their seats except for Imogen and Sal who were still making their way back and forth to the kitchen with the dishes and serving plates.
Draco pulled out Hermione’s chair for her and bowed slightly at her as she sat. She looked at him curiously, but managed a smile.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. He smiled back and then took his seat beside her. They sat in silence for a moment until Imogen and Sal brought in the final bowls of sides and then sat.
“Dig in!” Imogen announced with a wave of her hands at the food. Everyone except Draco and Hermione began piling their plates high with food in a rush.
Draco watched, slightly awestruck at the abruptness and unrefined manner of their plating.
“And they had a problem with Weasley’s manners?” Draco hissed into Hermione’s ear. She snorted and Imogen shot her a look.
“Not going to partake in your favorite meal of the year?” she asked her niece with narrowed eyes at her empty plate. Draco and Hermione exchanged a glance and then both took up serving spoons to fill their own plates.
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To Be Himself