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A Summer Holiday	By : TwistOfLime Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Eight: What Do You Want?

“Who’s that with them?” Hermione asked, crinkling her nose in confusion.

“Seems Blaise has come to pay a visit,” Draco replied dryly, for some reason not at all happy to see his friend.

“Blaise!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming to visit?” She slowed her pace, running her fingers through her hair. The action made Draco want to scream.

They mounted the stairs to the porch side by side, her with cheeks flushed with excitement and him with lips drawn so thin they would have put McGonagall to shame.

“There they are,” said Emma. “We were wondering where you two had run off to.”

“We went down to Mr. Gregory’s for some breakfast. I wasn’t sure how soon the roads would be fixed,” Hermione explained, taking a seat next to her mother. “Hi Blaise.”

“Hello Hermione. Draco,” he replied, smiling at Hermione and inclining his head his Draco’s direction.

“I expect you’re here to see Draco,” said Hermione

“I wasn’t expecting any visitors,” Draco drawled smoothly. Hermione’s excitement at this unexpected encounter irritated him. However, what irritated him even more was that her excitement bothered him in the first place. It should be of no consequence to him whether or not she enjoyed Blaise’s company.

It shouldn’t be, but it was.

“Yes, well, I had dropped by the Manor earlier this morning, but obviously no one was home. Maxwell informed me where you were staying,” Blaise replied, turning to Hermione and her mother. “Draco had mentioned spending the rest of the summer here, but it didn’t seem like any plans were finalized. I hope I’m not intruding. I don’t have any specific business; I just had the day free.”

“Not at all,” Narcissa reassured him. “Now that the roads have cleared, why don’t the three of you take the car into the village?”

“It’s not much,” continued Emma. “Just the post office, general store and some public buildings, but there are some interesting shops.”

“Oh, I don’t want to get in the way. I’ll leave you and Draco to yourselves. I’ve got some reading I want to get done anyway,” said Hermione.

“Draco and I don’t mind your company, besides we need a tour guide.”

“Well if you don’t mind...”

“Of course we don’t.” Blaise replied, standing up and motioning for her to follow. “It was very nice to meet you Mrs. Granger. Mrs. Malfoy a pleasure as always,” he said, inclining his head to each woman.

“It was lovely meeting you too. You’re welcome anytime. The keys are on the kitchen counter. Have fun,” she called after them.

Blaise and Hermione led the way to the front of the house, Draco trailing behind, silently raging at the sight of Blaise’s hand trailing down Hermione’s shoulder blades and coming to rest comfortably on the small of her back. Draco had no desire to watch Blaise turn his charm on Hermione all day while she simpered like an idiot, but he certainly wasn’t about to let them go alone.

“So Hermione, are you enjoying your holiday?” Blaise asked silkily, slipping into the passenger seat next to her as she started the car. A stoic Draco slid in the backseat and stared determinedly out the window.

“I suppose, though it hasn’t really started yet,” she replied smiling and backing out from the drive.

“Yes, but I’d imagine that you two have already tried to kill each other at least twice.”

At this Hermione flushed a deep crimson. “Not exactly,” she muttered.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at Draco in the rearview mirror, “Really? Did you kiss and make up?” he taunted.

“I – we – we’ve reached an understanding,” she sputtered, before regaining some semblance of control and continuing and falsely cheery voice. “I mean, it’d be stupid to be at each other’s throats constantly.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” he replied, regarding Draco thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I was wondering if you had finished Professor Vector’s essay yet. I had started with the Agrippan method, but now I’m not sure…”

Hermione and Blaise maintained a steady stream of conversation the entire drive into the village. Draco might as well have not existed. He was fairly certain that even throwing himself from the moving vehicle wouldn’t have deterred their unrelenting flirtation.  Blaise was shameless, as always, and Hermione seemed to be enjoying the attention. She kept laughing a pretty, pleasant laugh that Draco had never heard before. The sound clawed at his patience.

It was a relief when Hermione parked the car in the town centre. Draco was… irritated and his irritation irritated him. He was simultaneously sickened by Blaise and Hermione and by his reaction to them. It was a vicious cycle whose only escape seemed to be running as fast possible in the opposite direction.

Once outside the car, Draco took a few breaths to calm himself as Hermione paid the meter. He wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with him. If he didn’t know better, he would say he was jealous. It was an idea that he refused to entertain. He supposed he was… disappointed in Hermione. As she had said, they had reached an understanding. Something had passed between them, first on the train and then later during the storm. They might not be friends, but there was the beginning of a mutual respect and trust. It wasn’t as if he expected anything from her, as if he wanted anything from her, but he would have thought that she at least had the decency to refrain from throwing herself at someone else after waking up on his lap this morning. Apparently not.

Draco slammed the car door behind him in frustration and Hermione approached with a furrowed brow.

“Are you alright?” she asked tentatively.

“I’m fine,” he answered, his voice a deadly calm.

“Okay…” she replied. She looked confused and unconvinced, but allowed herself to be pulled away down the street by Blaise, who had wrapped an arm around her waist.

He walked behind them, watching them as the three meandered the through the narrow streets. She had untangled herself from Blaise, but he seemed to touch her almost constantly, brushing her hair from her face or placing a hand on her back as he pointed something out and they walked so close together that their shoulders grazed with each step. The casual, careless familiarity of their touches was almost worse than if Blaise had stopped in the middle of the pavement to throw her against a shop wall and shag her senseless.

Eventually, the three came to a stop in front of an old bookshop, the dusty front window crammed with lopsided piles of books and bearing the name The Tattered Cover in peeling gold paint.

“Shall we?” asked Blaise.

“You don’t mind?” Hermione asked, hesitantly.

“Of course not,” he answered, holding the door open for her.

“Alright. Just be sure to come find me when you’re ready to leave, I’ve been known to get distracted in a good bookshop… Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked again, looking questioningly at Draco.

“No,” he replied, entering the shop in front of her.

A bell tinkled as the door closed behind them, though no one appeared at the sound of their arrival. The shop was dark and dusty, the floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with books and creating a veritable maze of thin, winding aisles. Books were piled haphazardly on the wooden floors making navigating almost impossible.

Without a backwards glance at Blaise and Hermione, Draco set off down one of the cramped aisles to his left. He wandered aimlessly, running his fingers along the spines of books as he walked and fighting the insane urge to seek out Hermione. He wondered if she was with Blaise. He wondered if he was touching her. He wondered what the hell was happening to him.

With a growl of frustration he tore a book from the shelf at random and began to read, desperate to distract himself.

A short while later Draco was interrupted by a quiet cough. He looked up to see Hermione standing shyly in front of him, a couple books clutched to her chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked bluntly.

“I said I was fine,” he said shortly, turning back to his book.   He felt rather than saw her move toward him.

“Yes, but you’re lying,” she responded, now standing at his elbow.

He chose to ignore her, just as he was ignoring the heat that seemed to radiate from her body, making his side tingle with awareness.

“Look,” she continued. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me here, but – ”

“I didn’t say that,” he interrupted. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You didn’t have to say it. It’s pretty clear – ”

“It’s obviously not clear,” he interrupted again.

“Than what is your problem!?” she spat at him.

“Mind your own damn business Granger.”

“No! I want to know why you’re acting like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like this! Like a petulant child! Why do you have to make everything as miserable as possible all the time? We’re trying to enjoy ourselves, and – ”

“Yes I can see that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please,” he said, finally abandoning the pretense of reading and rounding on her. “I have to say, I’m a little disappointed Granger. I knew you were a lot of things but I never would have pinned you for a slag.”

She looked as if he had slapped her, but he found he couldn’t stop. His words were like a vicious poison that his body had to purge itself of. “Why don’t you run along back to Blaise? Find some quiet little corner and just let him fuck you and be done with it because I can’t bear watching this pathetic mating ritual any longer.”

His outburst was followed by total silence; though he was sure she must be able to hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice disturbingly even. “Maybe I will.” She turned on her heel and disappeared down the next aisle.

Draco’s outburst had shocked even him. He leaned against the shelves struggling to control his breathing and heartbeat. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he was acting this way. He was frustrated, confused, ashamed and vaguely panicked and he hadn’t even been here two days.

He caught a glimpse of Hermione through the shelves as she stalked down the aisles and followed her silently, a part of him afraid that she really was going to find Blaise. Instead she made her way to the cashier. As he watched her paying for her purchases, Blaise emerged from an aisle across the way.

“Spying are we?” he smirked.

Draco was in no mood. “Where have you been?” he barked.

Blaise’s smirk didn’t falter at Draco’s tone, if anything it became more firmly plastered to his face. “Photography section,” he replied as Hermione joined them, clutching her purchases. “I have a soft spot for muggle photography.”

He fell silent; surreptitiously glancing from Draco to Hermione who were each determinedly pretending the other didn’t exist. “So… anyone interested in grabbing a bite to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Hermione answered shortly, grabbing Blaise’s hand and pulling him along in her wake as she brushed past Draco on her way to the exit. “Let’s head back, shall we?”

The entire walk to the car was in complete silence: Hermione and Draco quietly fuming, Blaise clearly reveling in the dramatic turn of events.

On the drive back, Draco once again found himself in the backseat, seething as he watched Blaise attempt to engage Hermione in conversation. He was moderately successful; though her stilted answers made it clear she was still livid.

“What’s that?” Blaise asked as they rounded the bend towards the cottage, pointing towards the castle ruins that stood like a black mass against the afternoon sun.

“The remains of Dunstanburgh Castle,” Hermione answered, pulling into the front drive. “I can take you there if you like.”

“I’d love to,” he replied, leaning across the seat to open her door for her.

As the two started across the dunes, Blaise turned back, “Draco, are you coming?”

Though loath to leave Hermione and Blaise alone for any extended period of time, the volatile mix of anger and embarrassment coursing through his veins coupled with Hermione’s frequent glares of unadulterated fury made it clear that he should escape while he could.

“No. I didn’t sleep well last night,” he said, staring pointedly at Hermione. She at least had the decency to blush, though her eyes still burned with anger. “I think I’ll stay behind.”

“Suit yourself,” Blaise said with a shrug and throwing an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, they headed off in the direction of the ruins.

Draco stormed into the house and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room behind him and collapsing violently into his desk chair. He spent the rest of the afternoon convincing himself that he was in fact finishing his Transfiguration essay and not compulsively glaring down the beach through the window, waiting for their return.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Hermione and Blaise finally reappeared, Draco was outside on the porch with his mother and Mrs. Granger, staring unseeingly at the pages of a book he found in the living room and brought out as an excuse to avoid conversation.

“Did you two have a nice walk?” Mrs. Granger asked as Hermione and Blaise climbed the stairs to the porch side by side.

“Indeed,” Blaise replied, fixing Hermione with an indecently lecherous stare. “Hermione is an excellent tour guide.”

Mrs. Granger beamed. “Well, you’ll have to stay for dinner.”

At this Draco rose from his seat. He had had enough. “Unfortunately Blaise has to get going,” he said a bit more harshly than he had intended.

“O – Oh?” Mrs. Granger faltered, glancing between Draco, who stood rigid and tense, his hands balled into fists at his side and Blaise, who leaned against the porch railing with his customary casual elegance and nonchalance.

Blaise didn’t miss a beat. “Yes unfortunately. Thank you for the invitation and for your hospitality, but I have a prior engagement this evening. It was a pleasure to meet you,” he replied before turning to Narcissa. “Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure as always.”

“Of course. Perhaps another time then,” Mrs. Granger called after their retreating forms.

Blaise and Draco walked into the house, Hermione trailing behind them looking simultaneously confused and furious. At the front door, Draco stopped. “I’ll see Blaise the rest of the way out Granger. Go back to the porch,” he said, his eyes never leaving Blaise.

“Don’t presume to order me around in my own house Malfoy!” she spat indignantly.

“Please excuse my friend,” Blaise said, slipping in front of Hermione who had drawn her wand. “He’s normally much better behaved.”

She scoffed, but pocketed her wand. “I hope you manage to enjoy the rest of your holiday,”  Blaise continued.

“You too,” she replied with a smile.

“I’ll see you at school, yeah,” he said, taking her hands in his and running his thumb along her knuckles. “I’d love to see the Head dorm; I hear it puts the others to shame.”

Hermione failed to catch the innuendo in his voice, or perhaps she chose to ignore it. “I’m not Head Girl yet.”

“Please, the letter is just a formality. Anyway, thank you for the pleasure of your company today,” he said, brushing the back of her hand with his lips before releasing her. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” she called quietly as he followed Draco out the front door.

Once they were clear of the doorway, Draco rounded on Blaise, forgetting for the moment that Blaise was much broader than he was as he slammed his friend into the side of the cottage.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he gritted out through a clenched jaw.

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’” Blaise asked, moving Draco’s arm from where it pressed on his windpipe.

“I’m in no mood for your games Blaise. What do you think you’re doing with her?”

“I assume the ‘her’ you’re referring to is Granger? I thought you made it clear you weren’t interested in her. If you’re not going to take advantage of the situation, I most certainly will.”

“Like hell you will,” Draco spat, shoving Blaise once more before releasing him.

“It seems to me,” Blaise drawled, smoothing the front of his shirt where Draco had gripped it. “That the more appropriate question would be what are you doing? For someone not interested you seem overly concerned about who Hermione spends her time with.”

“It’s of no consequence to me who Granger spends her time with.” This at least was true. It wasn’t so much who she was spending time with as what they were doing with that time the concerned him.

“Of course not. I suppose there’s some other explanation for this tantrum you’ve been throwing all day? I’m not an idiot Draco and I’ve known you since we were six. I know you and I know that right now you’re desperately trying to convince yourself that you feel nothing for her.

Draco could think of nothing to say to this. He wanted to protest but it was the truth, the horrible, appalling truth, and Blaise knew it.

“I’m willing to overlook your… actions today because clearly you’re experiencing some sort of emotional… something, and frankly it’s been entertaining, but I think you might want to start thinking about what it is you really want.”

He left Draco standing there, gaping like an idiot as he strode a few paces down the drive. “Incidentally,” he said, turning around. “Nothing happened on that walk. You might not know what you want, but I do. I merely spent the time trying to convince her that you’re not completely psychotic. I’m not sure I succeeded. See you on the first,” he finished with a smirk before turning on his heel and disappearing with a pop.
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A Summer Holiday