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A Creative Solution	By : cristinstar Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19002 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it just playing in JKR's sandbox. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
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Hello there faithful readers! If you have been awaiting this update, please allow me to apologize for the delay and thank you, so very much, for not giving up on the story. I had a health crisis to overcome, and now things should be back on track with regular postings. That said, let's get back to the story!

Hermione sighed. Slytherins! Reasoning with them was always fraught with peril. They had trained from an early age to twist reality to their advantages, and if one was not careful, they could convince everyone of their version of the facts.

As she considered this, her gaze followed Draco's to the window, through which the barely visible sun was beginning its descent. For a couple of minutes they watched the changing colors of the sky through her window in silence, sharing their contemplation of the beauty of sunset.

Her brain, not used to quiet reflection, quickly latched on to another stressing thought. Merlin! What about his conditions for these explorations? She had not factored in Draco's cunning in the arrangements for this endeavor. What exactly was she getting into? She needed to be triple-careful with what she agreed to, and what she asked from him as her conditions. She needed a clear head, for the wine had mellowed her too much for the type of mental gymnastics needed to negotiate with Slytherins. She pushed her wine glass further from herself on the table, and decided food would help. Perhaps taking a break in all this talking to eat something was a good idea.

But then there would be the challenge of dinner to overcome. Hermione had begun to realize that while Draco claimed to be broke, he had different ways of dealing with his lack of funds than she did. Or perhaps it was just that his idea of 'insufficient funds' referred to a quantity larger her own definition of the phrase. "Well, I have some supplies to make dinner," she hedged, "but not much."

"What would you like to eat? I can provide some of the ingredients if you let me. Or, Tibby can bring over a few things to make dinner. Even some sun-dried tomatoes, which if I recall correctly, are a favorite of yours." Draco's tone was light and teasing.

Sun-dried tomatoes! Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and then to ask for more information. They had been beyond her budget for quite a few months already! As she tried to get her thoughts in order to formulate a question, Draco's finger gently closed her mouth for her.

He let the movement carry into more of his gentle caresses as he explained. He seemed fascinated with the texture of her skin, the planes of her face, the softness of her cheeks, the cleft of her lip. "Don't look so surprised, Hermione. Like many of the purebloods have done with their states, we have turned part of the Malfoy lands into a functioning farm. Historically, most of our holdings were farms. The decorative pleasure gardens only came about in the last two hundred years or so."

A smelly, noisy, dirty, farm on the pristine Malfoy lands? She smiled as she considered it. Lucius really would not be pleased. Hermione was about to comment on that fact when Draco's hand moved on to the baby fine hairs by her ear, then to her neck, causing her to shiver anew. Breathless, she managed to gather her wits enough to ask him, "So the current devaluation of the Galleon against the Muggle Pound persuaded you to revert the lands to their original purpose?"

Draco nodded as he answered. "Yes, and we have established a bartering market once again, as it was three hundred years ago, where house-elves from each family barter with each other for the family specialties. Now, may I call on Tibby and ask him to bring these ingredients?"

As she nodded, Hermione's thoughts turned to the Weasleys. How would the Weasleys' family lands look if they were converted from their current farm development into the decorative gardens the rich pure-blood families had favored? After all, the plots of land that each pure-blood family held were not so different in their expanse, whether the family was the Weasleys, Lovegoods, or Malfoys.

Much as the first time, Tibby appeared between them at the sound of Draco's hands clapping, and bowed low. Once the situation had been explained to him, he turned his big eyes over to Hermione, and gently raised his hand to her knee. "Missy Granger," he said, "It would be a great honor if Tibby could prepare dinner for you and Master Draco." When she still looked unconvinced, he actually whinged, "Pleeeease?"

Hermione looked to Draco for guidance and noticed he was trying to laugh discreetly, covering his mouth with one hand as his eyes sparkled. "Oh, well, Tibby, I don't know," she prevaricated. When Tibby's eyes watered, threatening to spill over, Hermione conceded defeat. "Well, if it means that much to you--"

"It does Missy Granger!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Missy Granger. Tibby will prepare dinner!" and with that, he Disapparated.

Draco's mirth could not be contained any longer. Before the house-elf had finished leaving, he was guffawing loudly. "If only you could see your face, Granger! Manipulated by a teeny tiny house-elf into letting yourself be served! One of these days, you'll have one doing your hair in the morning, while another one cooks breakfast and cleans your flat! Mark my words!" He continued chuckling as the cooking noises in Hermione's kitchen began.

She started to rise. "I should--"

"No, you should not," he said, stilling her with a hand on her knee. His warm palm began moving slowly up her leg, and Hermione held her breath, trying to control her reactions to his touch. As if he was not aware of the effect he had on her, Draco continued explaining. "Tibby is thrilled to be cooking in your kitchen, and if he really can't find anything, he will come to ask us."

At that moment, the house-elf entered the room, and Draco removed his hand from her knee.

"Begging your pardon, Master, but dinner is being made, and these arrived for you today," he said, handing Draco a bundle of letters.

"Hmmm..." Draco riffled through his mail, and opened one of the letters. It turned out to contain a sheet of parchment and a smaller, sealed envelope. With a frown, he quickly read through the lines and grabbed the inner envelope hard, almost crushing it. "Would you excuse me for a few minutes, Hermione? I just have to reply to this."

She nodded. "There are paper and quills on the desk, Draco," she said, pointing towards the desk in the corner. "Feel free to use the space and whatever else you need."

A distracted smile flickered on his face as he thanked her. Draco then walked over and spread his correspondence on the desk before sitting at the chair. Scowling, he scribbled a response on the unopened envelope itself, and then angrily began penning a response to whomever had sent him such a missive.

Meanwhile Hermione cleared things from the dining table distractedly as she tried to prepare for the discussion she wanted to have with Draco about their relationship. Would he be amenable to talking it over? Most guys shied away from discussing emotional topics. But in her opinion, they still had much to talk about his cryptic comments before the heated kiss they shared in the coffee shop.

She did not know how to start that discussion, but she felt she needed it before moving forward in this pseudo-relationship. Draco had appeared to indicate that he was romantically interested in her, and might have been for quite a while. Was it possible that in all these years he had not realized she was attracted to him? She let herself dreamily consider a scenario where Draco had been harboring feelings for her in secret, much as she had for him, and where now they could be honest with each other. Then reality intruded in her fairlytale imaginings. Draco would not have been picking up women so brazenly in front of her if this was the case, she scolded herself. Seeing their interactions through rose-colored glasses would lead only to heartbreak. On the other hand, Hermione did not think that Draco was being untruthful when he said that he was not willing to jeopardize their friendship; there were few enough people that considered Draco a friend, and whom he considered friends. Perhaps she had been on his 'maybe' list of potential partners, but he certainly had not been waiting for her to notice him romantically.

Soon Tibby announced that dinner was ready, levitating it to her dining table. Draco stuffed the letter and unopened envelope in a larger one, and began clearing the area he had used on her desk. After the house-elf magicked the place settings on the table, Draco addressed him. "Tibby, this is ready to be sent, when you get the chance," he said, handing the house-elf the letter he had composed. "And you may leave the rest of the letters on my desk when you get back, for me to put away."

"Yes, Master Draco. Will that be all?" With his thanks and a nod, Draco dismissed his house-elf and held a chair for Hermione to sit at the table. Once they were both seated and served, Hermione allowed herself to relax minutely over the delicious Italian dinner.

"Tibby is very gifted in the kitchen," she said as she wound the pasta on her fork.

Nodding as he chewed, Draco wordlessly held up the new wine bottle that Tibby had brought, offering a refill of her glass.

"No, thanks. Two glasses just about does it for me, and I had eaten very little before." Swallowing, she debated how to open the topic while dabbing her mouth with the napkin. "Draco," she began, tentatively, "we need to talk more about what we're going to do to collect this..."

His eyes were warm as he chided her gently. "Come now, Granger. Sex isn't really dinner table conversation for a first date, is it?"

"A date? But..."

"Yes, it is, Hermione. When two people who are attracted to each other meet over food and drinks to discuss common interests. So in honor of this date, let's save the heavy stuff for after dinner. If that is alright with you?"

She started to nod, then narrowed her eyes. He had succeeded in flustering her with his show of knowledge of dating etiquette, and she suddenly found an angle in his phrasing that was worth exploring.

"Two people who are attracted to each other? Aren't you presuming a bit much, Mr. Malfoy?"

He smiled enigmatically as he sipped from his wine glass. "Perhaps, perhaps. You have to admit that when we first talked this over, I thought you would be agreeable to making out with me--"

So he had been taking her for granted! Archly, she interrupted him by saying, in a saucy tone, "So I have to admit that you find me attractive, Draco?"

Draco's gaze matched the directness of his answer. "That was never in question, Hermione." With a rueful smile, he continued, "You know you can count me among those male friends we talked about earlier."

He *really* found her attractive? Hermione flushed as she tried to process that revelation, reminding her hopeful heart that Draco must have found the other women he entertained attractive enough as well. Just because he thought her attractive did not mean he had been, was, or would be, interested in forming an emotional entanglement. Telling herself to breathe deeply and continue eating as if nothing had happened, she picked up her fork again.

Draco copied her as he began explaining. "As I was saying, I took a chance that you would not mind terribly if I suggested that we snog, or make out, but I did not know what kind of reception my idea would get. You could have slapped me hard, like you did in third year." She looked down as he smiled at that recollection. "What was it that you wrote to me in your apology letter back then? Let me think now..." His tone was light as he pretended to reminisce. "Oh yes, that physical violence never solved anything."

"And you answered that if I was a 'real' witch I would have cursed you with my wand." Her voice had been higher-pitched, trying to sound like the stereotypical whiny little kid. Now it returned to her usual tone as she smiled wryly. "It was quite upsetting back then, even before you ended with your comment about how I 'should realize one of these days that wands were more than pretty hair ornaments.'"

"Ah yes," he said as he smirked, "one of my best lines. You do have a tendency to store it in the most unusual places, Hermione. But I'll tell you that the sally about being a 'real' witch could not have been as upsetting as it was for a teenage boy to be slapped by a wisp of a girl, in front of his friends. If it had been a guy hitting me, I would have retaliated immediately."

"Sure, sure. So chivalrous, Mr. Malfoy." She teased him with a smile. "I'd like to think that I caught you by surprise -- and you knew you deserved it!"

"Perhaps, Miss Granger, perhaps." After another mouthful, he continued speaking. "Correct me if I'm wrong, though, but it seems to me that you would be perhaps more interested than I had first assumed in this joint venture."

Clearing her throat, Hermione licked her lips slowly as she debated how to answer. His eyes keenly tracked the movement of her tongue as he slowly swallowed. This drew Hermione's gaze to the movement of his Adam's apple, to the stubble that was beginning to coat his chin, and to Draco's perfectly shaped lips. When his tongue came out to moisten them, Hermione experienced a jolt of arousal so strong that she startled and banged her knee on the underside of the table.

Trying to disguise it as a coughing fit, she asked him to clarify his position. "Is that how you see it, Draco? As a joint financial venture?" Wary of becoming mesmerized once more by any part of Draco, be it his eyes or his lips, she looked off into the distance to the right of his face. Her heart was hammering loudly in her ears as she waited for his answer.

"It could be a very enjoyable financial venture, Hermione..." he paused and sipped more of his wine. She felt dizzy, hearing in her heartbeat the popping of her tenuous hopes, like soap bubbles in the air. Before she could draw breath, he reached for her hand and continued speaking. "But that is not the entirety of how I see this between us."

His fingers were caressing the back of her hand and her wrist, gently, soothingly. She tried to hold her hopes afloat for a bit longer, unsure whether they would be crushed or realized in the next couple of breaths. When she could not bear the silence a minute longer, she spoke, trying to keep her voice from cracking. "Please speak plainly, Draco. How do you see this between us?"

"Gryffindors," he explained slowly with a sigh, "are accustomed to spelling their feelings and their plans out loud, to all and sundry. We Slytherins are more protective of ourselves, more careful with the words we choose. After all, words shape reality, don't they?"

He was dithering! Draco's exposition of the philosophical differences between their houses swung Hermione's mood from hopeful vulnerability to outright frustration at his conversational circumvolutions. Increasingly annoyed, she pulled her hand from under his and reached for another forkful in a huff.

He chuckled as she huffed noisily. "All I mean to say, Hermione, is that it is not easy for me to speak plainly about this -- Wait." He held up a hand when she made to interrupt. "That does not mean I won't do it, just that it is not as easy for me as it is for you. You have to admit that the Gryffindor boys are more likely to put their foot in their mouth than the boys of Slytherin, right?"

She nodded grudgingly. "Granted."

His hand reached for hers again, and he resumed his gentle stroking. "While Gryffindors need everything to be spelled out, we thrive on the space between words, the unspoken interpretations. So let me translate what I was saying. It felt as if you would be interested in pursuing this as something more than merely a business venture. Am I right, Hermione?"

She nodded, decided to be slightly clearer with her wishes, following her mother's adage of 'nothing ventured, nothing gained.' "I don't think I could do this as a business venture, Draco... not with you, nor with anyone else." There. That was generic enough to salvage some of her pride should she have misinterpreted his interest.

His eyes were focused on hers, but she avoided getting caught in his gaze, opting instead for that fascinating bit of lint on the couch behind him. She was unsure whether Draco was as well-versed in Legilimency as Professor Snape had been, but there was no need to show her whole hand as the poker saying goes. Inanely following through with the poker metaphor, she thought that Draco was holding his cards very close to his vest, still not giving any hint of what his feelings were.

If they were going to tread the murky waters of this discussion someone would need to yield. Given the Slytherins' expertise at double-meanings and conversational obtuseness, if she wanted any answers today, she would have to capitulate. Otherwise, he was likely to send her some obscure flower tomorrow that would supposedly explain his feelings, if only she spent several hours in the library looking up the meaning of said flowers. Hermione often had to help Parvati interpret the ambiguous messages from Theo Nott while those two dated. She sighed. Some of her cards would need to come on the table face-up. It would be a tricky balance between asking for what she wanted -- after all, you may just get it -- and protecting her heart.

She swallowed as she stalled for time to decide how much to reveal of her feelings, and held up her wine glass for him to refill.

Arching an eyebrow, he did so. "Liquid courage, Miss Granger?" he inquired as she sipped it, barely caressing her wrist with his fingers in a most distracting way. "What could it be that makes a Gryffindor need more courage?"

"This is a fine line we're walking, Draco." She dabbed at her mouth with the napkin. "Like you, I value our friendship highly, and am wary of endangering it." He inclined his head in acknowledgment of her point, but remained otherwise silent.

In a moment of weakness, she looked up into his eyes and was trapped by the intensity of his gaze. He was looking directly at her, as if merely by staring he could read her secrets, her soul. Draco's eyes suited him perfectly, she decided. Beautiful like him, mercurial like his moods, enigmatic like his personality. She could spend hours watching them, as the tonality changed with the topics of conversation. As she got lost in her admiration of his eyes, he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain herself.

Closing her eyes to break the enchantment that he seemed to weave effortlessly about her, she swallowed nervously. Focusing once more on the couch to be able concentrate once again on the points she wanted to make, Hermione explained. "But you are correct, I am not indifferent, or merely agreeable, to making out with you." Another deep breath before she took leap, looking into his eyes as she spoke clearly. "I would like to see if there can be more between us."

Her vulnerability came through in her gaze, warming and gentling his. "And that scares you," he stated, reaching now for her other hand and interweaving their fingers. She nodded. "It scares me too, Hermione. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, Draco," she reassured.

Absentmindedly, his fingers continued to play with hers, seemingly ignoring her words. "I don't want to hurt you. You have to know that, Hermione." He looked into her eyes intently as he spoke, clearly enunciating his words. "I will never hurt you intentionally."

"I know that, Draco. I know you are not the childhood bully you were. And I don't want to hurt you either. But relationships can be messy, and some small hurts are unavoidable..." As she tried to reassure him, her thoughts were spinning wildly out of control. Was he debating how to turn her down gently? Was that what this little speech was about? Had she misread his signals of interest so badly?

He nodded. "Precisely. I am scared to hurt you in any way. But I find that my conditions for our arrangement have changed slightly since I first proposed it."

Hermione's thoughts stuttered to a stop. Changed slightly? What could he possibly mean? Had he changed his mind about doing this with her? Breathing hard, Hermione's thoughts ran around in circles as her mouth fell open. Was he regretting his pledge of a monogamous relationship while they harvested the Maiden's Blush? Her fork clanked on the plate as it fell from her nerveless fingers.

Hermione reached for her usual logic and tried to calm her breathing, reminding herself that until he explained there would be too many possibilities to consider. Nevertheless, her voice quivered as she asked, "What do you mean?"

Draco averted his eyes from hers, and raked a hand through his hair as he sighed. "I have always been careful to calculate the risks I take, to have multiple options ready for every possibility. But now I find myself at a loss." His finger came up to her chin, tilting her head so that he could look down into her caramel eyes as he continued speaking. "The stakes are too high, and I have no safety net."

His gaze speared hers, and Hermione wondered what he was looking for in her eyes. She felt uncomfortably adrift in the conversation, unsure of where this emotional roller coaster would lead to. For someone who cherished plans and control of her everyday life, not knowing what was going on was terrifying. Blinking and looking around in this bewildered state, Hermione realized Draco was leaning halfway out of his seat, in order to reach out to her.

As they broke eye contact, Draco sighed, and ran his hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair as he spoke. "By all accounts, I should not."

Her eyes snapped back to his upon hearing this, as Hermione's fears mounted. She was afraid she had gambled too much and lost it all, afraid he could read her fragile emotions easily in her mind, in her eyes. His fingers caressed her chin gently, drifting slowly down the slope of her neck, and up towards her cheeks in a mesmerizing caress. His thumb reacher her bottom lip, caressing it in direct contrast to the stressful nature of their conversation. Fearfully, she tried to maintain eye contact as he gathered his thoughts.

"But you know what scares me the most, Hermione?" Draco said, stopping his wandering fingers so that he could hold her face still and look into her eyes.

She shook her head, trying to keep her trembling lips still. The moment stretched, with a fragile beauty that she was afraid his answer would shatter. As she waited, she could hear her own breathing. Her heartbeat, too loud in the quiet room, was hammering twice as fast under his unwavering scrutiny. She tried synchronizing the beats to her breaths in an attempt to calm herself down, and wound up trying to count them instead.

Dropping his hand from her chin, Draco revealed his cards in a single blow. "Leaving this between us unexplored, after we have been granted this opportunity, would be one of the biggest regrets of my life."

Her eyes wide, unable at first to process his words, Hermione swallowed. Then she breathed deeply in surprise and relief. But before she could smile, or express her happiness and his revelation in any way, Draco had reached for her hands again. Gripping them tightly, he concluded, "I cannot lose you from my life, Hermione."

"You won't, Draco, I promise." He was still looking deeply into her eyes, holding her hands almost too tightly, barely breathing. Hadn't they already discussed this? What was this circular talk? Confused by the intensity of the moment, Hermione tried to dispel it with humor. Forcing a smile, she retorted, "If I managed to stay friends with Ronald Weasley, I'd like to see you try to lose me!"

Although his answering smirk was weak, Draco let go of her hands as he leaned back in his seat, and rallied in a teasing tone. "Do not compare me that the red-headed ape, please. If you must compare me to a member of that mustelidae family, at least choose the ones that have more than two brain cells rubbing together!"

Trying to maintain the tone light while she digested the implications and ramifications of Draco's heavy statements, Hermione smiled. "Oh, so you admit that some of the Weasleys do have redeeming qualities, then?"

Reaching for his wine glass, Draco smirked. "The twin ginger menaces seem to have inherited more than their fair share of intelligence from the gene pool, at least in comparison to the one in our year." After taking a small sip, he teased her, "Now let's get back to the dinner my house-elf prepared, lest he punish himself because we did not like it."

Pretending to be horrified by the prospect, Hermione dug into her meal, allowing Draco to effortlessly switch the conversation to the latest article by Septimius Prince in Potions Quarterly.

Tibby came back to clear the table when they had finished the main course, alerted by whatever sixth sense house-elves possessed about the families they served. While the house-elf retreated to the kitchen, Draco refilled their glasses.

"Don't get up yet, Hermione," Draco warned her, holding onto her hand when she began lifting herself from the table. "I am sure Tibby has whipped up something delicious for us to have for pudding." Following Draco's pronouncement, Tibby came back from her tiny kitchen, levitating a beautiful mousse and dessert plates.

"Tiramisu, Master Draco. May I retire now?"

"Yes, thank you, Tibby, and you may take this extra spoon with you." With a pop they were left alone. Draco reached for the bowl, but instead of serving the dessert right away, he held onto it while watching her carefully.

Slightly unnerved by the evening's events and his silent stare, Hermione waited only a minute before asking him, "If you like Tibby's pudding that much, why did you make him take one of the spoons away? Don't you feel like sharing?"

Smirking, he explained, "I suggest we turn this into a game." At her puzzled look, he continued speaking. "What if each spoonful of this delicious dessert has to be given by the other person as a reward for answering a question truthfully?"

Intrigued, she frowned as she asked, "What do you mean?"

His voice was persuasive as he cajoled her. "You'll like this Hermione. You get to ask me questions and I will have to answer truthfully." When she still looked unconvinced, he continued, "For example, you can start by asking me a question. Anything you'd like to know. I can choose to answer or to pass, but if I pass you get to set me a dare that I may not refuse. Once I've answered to your satisfaction, I get a taste of the dessert." He paused, and lifting an eyebrow, waited for her agreement. "So what do you say, little lioness? Wanna play?"

Narrowing her eyes at his suggestive wording, Hermione considered her choices. If this was a simple truth-or-dare game, she could do this! And maybe Draco would be the one to be caught unaware. After all, she had had plenty of experience besting the boys at this during their time camping, and in the many drunken parties after the fall of Voldemort... She nodded her assent.

"And when it's my turn, I shall do the same. I will ask you a question." He paused to tape his lips with his finger, sensually tracing their contours. "When you answer me truthfully, I get to give you a taste of the dessert..." He paused once more. Irritated by the constant pauses, she nodded and gestured for him to get on with the game.

"Good," he said, still hogging the bowl. And his grin widened, becoming almost predatory. "No backing out, right?"

"Right," she agreed, letting him know that he should expect her to hold no prisoners in the forthcoming interrogation. “We ask each other questions and must answer them truthfully in order to be fed dessert. You do realize, Draco, I have all sorts of questions to ask you?"

"I expect you do. I’ll answer them truthfully - while the dessert lasts, and as long as the questions are within reason," he said.

Distracted, Hermione concurred, busily pondering where to start and how to phrase her questions. Her mind whirring, she almost missed the fact that he was speaking again. "And you realize that this 'taste of the dessert' can be done in any way I want."

Eyes bulging, it dawned on Hermione too late that she had been outmaneuvered by the tricky Slytherin. "What?"

While wagging his finger, he said, "No backing out now, Miss Granger." But his knowing smile was kind when he rationalized the argument to her. "If we're going to do this, we have to start changing the way we interact, Hermione. Intimacy does not happen spontaneously in a minute, it takes time to build."

Cheeks reddening, Hermione averred, "Fine, as long as I agree with the delivery method. Within reason."

"Granted," he allowed, "Would you like to start?" he asked, generous in his triumph.

Attention! If you have not already done so, send in your guesses to what Draco's third condition would be, and what he was doing at the Clinic in Chapter 1. This is the LAST chapter before we reveal Draco's third condition to their pseudo-experiment, so time is running out!

The Prize for those that guess correctly either or both of the mini-mysteries are two deleted scenes from chapters already published. To be fair, ONLY answers to (1) what Draco's third condition could be, and (2) what he was doing at the Clinic, are valid for the deleted scenes prize. Guesses about other mysteries in the story are VERY welcome, and very cool to read, but we need to be fair to those that have been submitting their guesses with an eye towards the prize!

The one-and-only UnseenLibrarian worked her magic on this chapter a long, long time ago, in a state far away. All the mistakes (and the delay in posting it) are my fault!
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A Creative Solution