Chapter Text
Shoutout to Zelenyi_kit_art for the beautiful cover and listening to all my wants when creating it; it's beautiful.
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Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The noise continued.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
It occurred in threes, each one flawlessly balanced.
Tap—the noise was shattered as Hermione reached her hand across the console and delivered a sharp slap to Draco's thigh.
“Why the fuck did you just slap me?” Draco's voice rang out from the passenger seat, a sharp command that cut through the air. He straightened his posture, sitting up with renewed purpose, while his other hand continued its rhythmic tapping, a testament to his restless energy.
“Will you stop that! It's rather annoying!” Hermione shouted back, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel, while Draco merely rolled his eyes, unfazed, and carried on with his taps.
“How about we turn on some music or something? The silence in here is deafening,” Draco remarked, his hand reaching for the radio, eager to break the stillness that enveloped the car.
“No! Don't,” Hermione exclaimed, her hand instinctively reaching out to swat him away, but the radio had already sprung to life, filling the air with an exuberant burst of pop music that seemed to dance with a distinctly feminine flair.
Draco flinched, instinctively reaching to cover his ears.
“Merlin, what is this nonsense?" Draco called out with a voice raised above the cacophony, prompting Hermione to exhale a weary sigh as she reached for the radio's dial, turning the volume down easily.
“It’s a well-known Muggle artist,” Hermione remarked, a hint of exasperation in her voice as she pressed on, steering the car toward their destination.
“People actually listen to this?” Draco declared, his fingers deftly plucking Hermione's phone from the dashboard as he began to peruse her music collection.
She attempted to resist, but he raised a finger, directing her attention firmly to the road ahead.
“Just drive,” Draco remarked with an air of indifference, his fingers wrestling with Hermione's phone, which seemed diminutive in his large hands.
Each attempt to scroll through the screen resulted in an unexpected shift of songs, adding to his frustration.
“Would you stop it!” Hermione said as she yanked her phone out of his hands, placed it back on the dashboard, and picked a song that she enjoyed the most, which was “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift.
Draco released a deep groan, his body sinking into the seat with a palpable heaviness; Hermione, undeterred, merely adjusted the volume once more, her focus unwavering.
Draco observed her intently, and as the figure on the diminutive dash monitor shifted to fifteen and then dimmed, he exhaled softly, drawing in a deep breath as he prepared to adjust it to sixteen.
Hermione cast a fleeting glance in his direction, her mind racing with thoughts she chose to suppress.
Yet, the urge to adjust the volume back to fifteen lingered in her consciousness.
The song continued to play... for ten minutes.
“Fuck! Does this song have an end?” Draco commented as he resumed his tapping, and all Hermione could do was chuckle softly.
“It’s the ten-minute version,” Hermione announced as she hummed along to the lyrics; Draco's jaw dropped, and he was flabbergasted.
“Ten fucking minutes? What could you possibly sing about for ten minutes?” Draco exhaled slowly, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
“Ten minutes,” he murmured to himself.
“It's actually a really interesting story; it's about—” Hermione began, and Draco raised his hand.
“Granger, I don't care—are we almost there!” Draco exclaimed, and Hermione sighed loudly.
“Yes, like ten more minutes, perfect to listen to the song one more time!” Hermione said with a smile as she started the song over and turned it back up.
Draco snatched her phone from the dashboard, resulting in a disconnection that silenced the radio.
“Absolutely not!”
As he continued to scroll through her phone, he made a statement that prompted Hermione to reach for it, resulting in her momentarily veering off the road.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, eyes on the road, Granger; I don’t want to die; I’m way too pretty,” Draco declared, turning his gaze toward the window, a hint of dramatic flair in his voice. “What do we have here…” He joked while perusing her collection of photographs.
“I may need to get one of these,” he stated, gesturing toward the small device nestled in his palm. “You need to dress like this more and continue to brush your hair like you did in this,” Draco stated as his gaze fixed on a photograph of Hermione clad in a fitted tank top, with long, straight hair cascading elegantly as she posed before a mirror.
With a soft huff of frustration, Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she reached out, her fingers stretching toward him in a desperate attempt to reclaim her phone.
“You are truly insufferable! Give me my phone now!” With a sudden jolt, Hermione's voice pierced the air, a mixture of surprise and indignation.
Draco, ever the picture of nonchalance, merely rolled his eyes, yet not before deftly switching the tune to one that resonated with his tastes.
“See you, arse! You caused me to miss the turn!" Hermione declared as she pulled the map from her phone once more.
She huffed and stopped before she turned the car around.
"Well, Granger, we wouldn't find ourselves in this predicament if we had simply apparated," Draco remarked, his grip tightening on the top handle as Hermione deftly maneuvered into a U-turn.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He was doing it again, still in perfect threes, and Hermione noted it.
“We don't need apparation, Malfoy! That's why there are cars," Hermione stated, her hands steady on the wheel as she navigated the road once more while Draco shifted uneasily in the seat beside her.
“Well, why is the car so small? I've hit my knees on this like six times!” He stated as he hit the dash with his hand, “And you don’t need a car; you are a witch. Why not stick to it?” Draco suggested as he emphasized all the right words to get his point across.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“You know I was raised as a Muggle? Remember?” Hermione said as she pursed her lips together, and Draco shrugged.
“I'm just saying this five-hour road trip could have been done in five seconds. If you wanted to get alone time with me, Granger, you could have just asked,” Draco said with a smirk, and Hermione scoffed as she continued to drive the car.
“No one said you had to come with me, and it was not five hours!” Hermione raised her voice higher before turning her music on to one final song; she made sure the volume was on fifteen again.
Draco shifted in the seat beside her, his hand reaching out to adjust the volume back to sixteen once again.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Hermione shrieked as she made a final proper turn into a parking lot that was filled with many different cars.
“Doing what?” Draco inquired with an air of casual indifference, accompanied by a subtle shrug of his shoulders.
“Adjusting the volume each time I increase it!” With a sudden exclamation, Hermione maneuvered into a parking spot while Draco regarded her with an expressionless demeanor.
“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” he said as the car engine turned off. He then unlatched the door and stepped out of the compact vehicle.
As he stepped out of the vehicle, Draco swore that all his bones had cracked.
He stretched by cracking his neck and raising his hands above his head very dramatically, while Hermione walked inside towards the receptionist's desk.
“Granger! Wait up!” Draco called out after her, quickening his pace to close the distance between them.
As he approached, Hermione paused at the entrance, waiting for him to arrive. A sleek black cat darted across his path, halting him just as he was about to reach her. Draco jumped back slightly as he noticed it, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
“It's just a cat!” She said as she giggled slightly, looking over at the skinny black cat.
“Yeah! A black cat… They bring bad luck,” Draco stated as he took a deep breath in and walked up to the door.
Hermione shook her head, her gaze fixed upon him. He swung the door wide, an inviting gesture of his hand beckoning her to step inside.
“Um, thank you,” Hermione murmured as she stepped into the cozy little motel nestled on the fringes of London.
“Yeah, yeah,” Draco remarked as he followed her into the room.
The ministry had sent the two of them on a mission.
Draco Malfoy, now an Auror, found himself paired with Hermione Granger, the esteemed investigative journalist, as they embarked on a quest to unravel a long-standing case that had previously perplexed the Ministry.
After the Wizarding War had subsided and the Order had won, many chose to retreat into hiding, prompting the Ministry to seek answers regarding their whereabouts and intentions. To this end, they dispatched their two most skilled employees on a crucial mission, aiming to track down the first name on their list: Alastor Moody.
Draco felt a familiar tension coil within him as he contemplated the mission ahead, his mind a tempest of swirling emotions that had been haunting him recently.
“Hello?” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Draco's face and said, “I said the only room they have left only has one bed," she asserted, her gaze unwavering as it locked onto his.
“Well, that's fine; you can just sleep on the floor,” Draco remarked with a chuckle, his voice laced with a playful arrogance as he handed his black card to the lady at the front desk.
Hermione cast a disdainful glance in his direction, her lips curling in a silent expression of disbelief.
“Pardon me?” She inquired, her arms crossed and a gentle rhythm of her foot tapping against the floor.
“The ground, you know, carpeted concrete; you can sleep there,” Draco remarked as he retrieved the card from the lady, deftly wiped it clean on his shirt, and then slid it back into his wallet.
“I know—I'm not sleeping on the floor; you can!” Hermione elevated her tone as she pivoted to face the lady, giving her a warm smile. “Thank you,” she remarked, gracefully taking the room key from the receptionist's hand before making her way toward their assigned room.
As they reached their room, Hermione immediately opened the door and placed a small bag on one side of the bed.
“I will be taking this side; feel free to—” Hermione's gaze shifted to Draco, who was diligently securing the door, sliding the latch to the right for an added layer of security.
As he heard her talking, he turned to her.
“Sleep on the other side? Yeah, I will,” Draco spoke softly as he carefully arranged his belongings on the far side of the bed.
With a dismissive scoff, Hermione turned her gaze toward him.
“I have to get my stuff out of the car. I'll be back,” she declared, her figure retreating toward the door he had just secured with a firm latch.
“I'll go with you,” Draco declared, his posture straightening as he approached the door where Hermione now stood.
“I am perfectly fine going on my own, Malfoy,” Hermione announced, her fingers deftly unfastening the latch before she grasped the handle firmly.
As she reached for the doorknob, he forcefully closed it, only to swing it open once more by his hand.
“What the hell?” Hermione exclaimed, stepping back to regard him with a hint of apprehension in her eyes.
“Just go,” Draco commanded, gesturing with a sweeping motion for her to pass through. Hermione, however, merely rolled her eyes, shook her head, and stepped outside.
Draco stepped out deliberately, following her with measured intent. As she continued toward the car, Hermione was certain she could hear the unmistakable sound of Draco's feet clomping loudly behind her.
"Are you engaged in a game of hopscotch?" Hermione called out from behind her as she approached the car, retrieving her keys to unlock the trunk.
Draco was indeed not playing hopscotch; rather, he was meticulously avoiding every crack that the pavement offered.
“Yes,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, positioning himself beside her as he took hold of her bags. “The championship is coming up, and I'm just trying to brush up on my skills,” he said as he shut the trunk.
Hermione attempted to reclaim her bag, yet he deftly shifted it in the opposite direction. With a resigned sigh and a scoff, she acquiesced to the moment.
“Championship, you are such a terrible liar,” Hermione observed as she locked the car, pressing the button twice. “And I can carry my bags,” she stated, and Draco rolled his eyes.
“Can I just not be a gentleman?” Draco inquired, deftly sidestepping the fissures in the pavement, nearly colliding with her in the process.
“I guess you can, and you can also watch where you walk,” she remarked, a hint of exasperation in her voice as she shook her head.
“I am; I can't help the concrete trying to trip me,” Draco declared, his voice light as he bounded up beside her, ever mindful of the cracks beneath his feet.
A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she found herself making more mental notes of his endearing quirks.
“You would think you would have a little more class,” Hermione remarked, raising the key card to the door to unlock it.
“I have class, thank you,” Draco remarked, striding in with purpose, brushing past her as he set her bag down on her side of the bed. “Well, Granger, here are your things…” He began with a flourish, gesturing dramatically towards her bag.
“Now, I’m going to bed. You can do whatever it is you need to do.” He completed it as he made his way to his side of the bed.
“Thanks. I’m going to freshen up,” Hermione declared as she stepped fully into the room, securing the door with a click.
She reached for the bag he had just set on the bed and made her way toward the modest restroom on the opposite side of the small space.
The small door clicked shut behind her, and she turned to face her reflection in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she sought to steady her racing thoughts, attempting to compose herself after the long and rather exasperating journey she had just endured with Malfoy.
In.
Out.
Once she had settled her breathing, she removed her garments and slipped into something more appropriate for the night. With a heavy sigh, she came to the unsettling realization that her only options for sleepwear were a pair of small shorts and a snug tank top. She had not packed with the expectation of staying with Malfoy, much less sharing a bed with him.
"Granger, could you hurry? I mean, if I knew you were going to take this long—” As Draco began to speak, Hermione abruptly swung the door wide, striking him with its force.
“Fuck Granger, ow,” Draco said as he put his hand up to his head.
“Oh, well, why are you snooping by the door?" Hermione spoke, her footsteps quickening as she made her way to the bed.
“Snooping? I was just talking—what the hell are you wearing?” Draco spoke, pivoting on his heel just enough to glimpse Hermione, her bare legs and chest revealed by her attire, as she hurriedly slipped beneath the covers.
“Shove off, Malfoy; it’s all I brought; if I had known—I would have brought more clothes!” Hermione said as she drew the blanket up around her.
With an exasperated gesture, Draco said, "The floor is still an option," before stepping into the restroom and closing the door with a soft click.
“I'm not—!” Hermione started to speak, but instead, she let out a frustrated huff and turned onto her side.
She reached for her phone on the bedside table and opened her notes, reviewing the details she had jotted down from her personal, previous mission.
She intended to start early and organize her thoughts for the next day. However, her concentration wavered as a chorus of sounds emanated from the bathroom.
Click.
Clack.
Clank.
Hermione clicked her phone off and set it down on the table again, her gaze drifting to the small four-leaf clover resting on the nightstand. She grasped it gently between her fingers, cradling it with care, and as she lifted it to scrutinize it, a sense of curiosity enveloped her.
“What are you doing?” Draco emerged from the bathroom, his voice laced with a hint of disdain. “Next time, use significantly less product; the scent reminds me of an old cat lady,” he remarked, flinging himself onto the bed in a dramatic manner.
“Do you always have to be so rude?” Hermione spoke, her fingers deftly twisting the small green plant, while Draco shrugged, a cocky grin playing on his lips.
“Only to you,” he remarked with a mischievous smile, settling himself beneath the covers and inching a bit closer to her.
“Did you put this over here?” Hermione inquired, bringing it nearer to his face, but Draco gently swatted her hand away and leaned back, evading her approach.
“What?” Draco scrunched his nose in her direction, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes. “I don't know what that is, Granger,” he admitted, his tone laced with curiosity as he slipped beneath the covers, turning away to face the wall.
“Turn that light off!” He said, and with a weary roll of her eyes, Hermione set the delicate plant back upon the bedside table, her fingers lingering for a moment before she extinguished the light.
Hermione positioned herself on the right side at the edge of the bed, while Draco occupied the left side, nearest to the precipice. As the shadows deepened and silence settled over the room, Draco's restlessness began to manifest, stirring within the confines of the bed.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
The covers were swooshing, and the bed was squeaking slightly.
“Are you wrestling a bear? Please stop moving!” Hermione called out from the other side of the bed, flipping onto her back and striking the covers with her hands.
With a heavy sigh, Draco rolled onto his back, and together, they found themselves gazing up at the ceiling until they had settled into their final quiet, finally succumbing to their tiredness as they both stared up at the ceiling. Hermione was the first to fade. Draco traveled in and out of consciousness; he didn't like to be away from home, not lately, so it was difficult to fall asleep.
The ceiling swirled and made different patterns as his eyes grew more tired, and just as his eyes were about to shut, he heard a noise, and he couldn't quite make out what it was; it was low and sounded slightly delicate.
The sound rang out again, but this time it was more clear: “Dra—” It was still soft and still low, and it was Hermione.
“Draco,” she said softly through shut eyes and in peaceful slumber, and as Draco realized it was her, his mouth twitched ever so slightly, and then he closed his eyes with a faint smile on his face.