A/N: Not for the faint of heart. There is a reason this was rated mature!
"Can you excuse me a minute?" Draco interrupted his new client, Douglass Trapp, with a hand. Taking a few steps back he jogged off towards Hermione who was standing by the lake's edge.
"Odd kid." Douglas turned to his personal assistant with a shrug.
"Hermione." Draco called out her name and she turned with a start.
"Draco? What are you doing here?" Hermione was wiping tears from her cheeks, trying her best to hide them from him.
"Uh…working. Why are you crying?" Draco caught a tear as it rolled off her chin and brushed it away on his jeans.
"No reason. It's not that big of a deal." She smiled as big as she could, as if suddenly feeling much better.
"It's always a big deal when a girl cries." Draco spoke softly, and Hermione began to wonder what happened to the old Draco, the one from Hogwarts.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Her eyes were again bearing into Draco's soul, it made him very uncomfortable.
"Let's just say I had a change of heart."
"Dracken…" Douglas hollered, then leaned down as his assistant whispered something into his ear, "Draco! I don't have all day son, come on." Draco looked to the construction site, and back at Hermione.
"Go. It sounds important. I'll be fine." Hermione rocked back on her heels, and looked away from him and back over to the lake.
"D'you still want to know what I do?" Draco held out his hand with a candid smile.
"Harry where have you been? We've been waiting." Ron rushed up to Harry and thrust his gear at him.
"I'm not in the mood. Let second string practice for me." Harry tossed his gear onto the ground and walked towards the bench.
"My name is George. It's not that hard to remember." George had played second string seeker for three years, and still Harry had never had the decency to use his real name. George jumped off the bench as the coach flagged him in.
"Roscoe, go ahead… I need to talk to Harry." Ron signaled to his second string then sat down beside Harry.
"I don't want to talk about it." Harry kicked at an abandoned glove sitting in front of him.
"Hermione?" Ron leaned back, with his hands behind his head. He had a good guess as to what had happened the night before. He knew Harry was irrational when he drank, and he had been really upset when he saw Hermione with another guy.
"Yeah. I tried talking to her this morning and she got all pissy and said I was letting the fame go to my head. Which, come on. It's me." The team had stopped what they were doing and looked at Harry. The team didn't like Harry, when it was close to game day. He turned into quite the drama king.
"Harry you do let the fame go to your head." Ron jumped as Harry turned and glared at him.
"Excuse me? No I don't."
"Dude. Yeah you do. You almost never show up to practice on time. You are the only player that demands first class whenever we fly. You never turn a groupie down. You are the only one with a penthouse suite. That's letting the fame go to your head…"
"You always have this attitude like you are better than everyone else. Like you were god's gift to this team." Oliver Wood chimed in. He'd taught Harry everything he knew, and though he was friends with Harry, he was getting tired of being a veteran player, catering to a newbie.
"You don't even know your second strings name… and we spent everyday together over the summer, training." George landed and added his two cents.
"Come on boys. I'm not paying you to stand around and tell Harry how much of a pain in the ass he can be. Get up there. Show me what you've got." Everyone went back to practicing; everyone except Harry, "Harry you've got two options. You get your ass on that broom and practice. Or your benched and George can play this Saturday." The coach blew his whistle. Harry hesitated only momentarily, before picking his gear back up and heading to the lockers. He reemerged a few minutes later, taking to the air like a bat out of hell.
"So you're an architect." Hermione stood close to Draco as a strong gust of wind blew. She was admiring his blue prints of the newest Trapp Tower that Draco was going to build, "Why couldn't you just tell me? This is nothing to be ashamed about. You do amazing work."
"I'm leery about telling people. Because of my dad and all. Though, he's dead so I don't know why I'm still worrying." Draco rolled the blue prints back up and tucked them under his arm.
"Your dad didn't approve?" Hermione stepped back as Draco walked over to Douglas.
"All finished for the day Draco? Let me see those blue prints you were working on." Draco handed Douglas a copy of the blue prints and said good-bye, "I'll see you in two days. I'm flying to Milan for fashion week. Have to find something nice for the misses." Douglas laughed, while Draco smiled.
"I wonder which misses he means." Hermione whispered, lacing her arm through Draco's.
"So why the change of heart?" Hermione sat, curled on the couch as Draco poured her a glass of water.
"What do you mean?" Draco glanced over his shoulder at her briefly. He was trying not to get attached. It had been a while since he'd been with a girl, and though he knew he had something for Hermione, he didn't want to ruin anything.
"I asked why you were being so nice. You said you had a change of heart." Hermione accepted the drink from Draco as he handed it to her, then sat down beside her.
"After Hogwarts, I went off to Oxford. I was supposed to study law, like my father had told me. But I was interested in experimenting in other fields. So I took an intro class, which had an entire section devoted to architecture and design. I was hooked the first day." Draco sipped his beer, and Hermione in turn took a sip of her water.
"It kind of defeats the purpose of telling a story if your going to take a drink before finishing." Hermione laughed, remembering Draco's words from the other night.
"Cute. Well anyways. My dad was furious. Said if I took anymore of those classes that he would cut me off. Which meant he'd stop paying my tuition, and giving me a monthly allowance. But I didn't stop. I kept taking those classes. My dad found out, and acted as if I'd dropped off the face of the planet. My mom was secretly gave me money, but not enough to pay for college. So I dropped out, with only an associates degree. There was a local company who was accepting submitted blue prints. I figured what could it hurt, and I showed them my entire protfolio. I was hired on the spot under the alias Darren Marret…"
"Marret? Marret…I know that name. Wait a second, I own one of your flats. I had no idea it was yours. Why the alias?"
"I didn't want to carry the Malfoy name. I didn't want it getting any recognition. It was only after my father's death that I stopped going by Darren. Now it's just Draco."
"So how did you wind up here in the states?" Hermione set down her glass, and pulled her feet under her butt.
"Apparently Mr. Trapp had seen some of my work while he was in London, and requested me to build his hotel. He paid me five million dollars this morning, just to ensure that we'd break ground in two weeks." Hermione's eyes widened.
"Five million dollars? What does someone do with five million dollars?"
"Order room service…for two." Draco smiled, hoping she would say yes.
Harry walked off the field at the end of practice, not talking to anyone. The coach had sat him out after an hour of practice, said Harry's head just wasn't in the game. The team tried to rally around him, but he told them all to piss off.
"Wallowing in pity won't do you any good Harry." Ron struck his friend on the back as a friendly good-bye.
"Yeah thanks for the advice, pal." Harry slammed his locker shut. It seemed like everyone was deserting him. First Hermione, and now his team.
Maybe I did overreact with Hermione. After all, I haven't been the most faithful…But still, what was she thinking?
Harry stepped out of the wooded area that hid the quidditch field, and back into the muggle world. He had gotten quite used to living a double life, and using less and less magic. He'd come to the conclusion that though magic had it's perks, it wasn't at all what it had been cracked up to be. Harry hailed a taxi and gave him the address to his hotel.
"This food is delicious." Hermione took another bite of salad before pushing the plate away, "I don't think I can eat another bite."
"You haven't had dessert yet." Draco smiled, scraping the last of his mashed potatoes off his plate.
"Dessert… I don't think I have room." She rubbed her stomach, then smiled.
"Well that's okay, I guess." Harry set down the plate of cheescake, and walked back over to the couch, sitting down next to Hermione, "Why were you crying today?"
"Just… Harry. Being his usual arrogant self. Everyday that I spend with him, leaves me wondering why I'm still sticking around. I honestly don't know why I stay.." Hermione looked down into her glass, then set it on the coffee table.
"I believe you said that you were holding out for him. Or perhaps waiting for someone better to come along." Draco grew quiet. He knew what she had been implying last night, but he figured it had been the alcohol talking.
"I guess the question is… after you've loved someone for so long… How do you know when you've stopped? How do you know when something new, is better than what you've got?" Hermione again was bearing into his soul, as if she knew what he was feeling.
"I…I don't know… I guess when it's someone else's smile you can't stop thinking about. Or no matter who you look at all you see is the other person's face. Or when you can't wait to sleep at night because all you dream about is that person… or"
Hermione interrupted Draco with a firm yet delicate kiss. Her hands were laced through his hair that hung loosely around his face. She smelt like fresh flowers, and her skin was soft underneath his fingers. He stroked her cheeks as the kiss deepened. She seemed to tremble in his arms, as she leaned into him. Finally she pulled away, her eyes still shut.
"Or when you can't avoid a person no matter how hard you've tried…that's when you know." Hermione finished his sentence in a low breathy voice. She smiled, a look of urgency in her eyes.
"'Mione?" Harry pushed the heavy hotel door open, and peered into the vacant room. The sun was setting, reflecting off the mirrors lining one wall. He hurried over to the window and turned the blinds. Hermione wasn't in the room. And the desk clerk said that he hadn't seen Hermione since she'd left the hotel restaurant that morning. Harry wondered where she could be, but at the same time knew she was with the man Harry had seen her with last night.
You blew it asshole. The best thing to ever happen to you, and you blew it.
Hermione pulled Draco's shirt over his head, then did the same with her own. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time with a tinge of desire. Draco laid Hermione down on the bed and slowly unzipped her jeans, all the while kissing her soft lips. Pulling away she gently bit his lower lip, causing a tingling sensation to spread across his mouth.
"Are you sure about this?" Draco whispered, his fingers grasping the sides of her jeans. Hermione didn't say a word, just removed her pants, and grabbed the back of Draco's neck, pulling him back down on top of her.
Harry poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down on the couch. Looking around the expansive hotel room, the silence making him uncomfortable. He flipped on the television, not expecting to really watch anything. He was just waiting for Hermione to come home.
Draco's hand danced along Hermione's torso, and traced her pelvic bone. He ran a finger down her inner right thigh, watching as Hermione squirmed at his touch. Slowly, and ever so precisely, Draco slipped a finger inside of her. Gently he massaged his way deeper, then pulled out. He repeated. He started off slow, taking his time, exploring the inside of her. Her eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, as she moaned softly and licked her lips.
Teasing, Draco flicked his tongue over her left nipple. With his left thumb he slowly caressed her other erect nipple, while the right thumb stroked her clitoris. Hermione suddenly arched her back, causing his middle finger to slide into her. Draco was over come by the feeling of Hermione's wetness. He began to prod harder, and faster, becoming more erratic. Everything was moving faster, and Hermione could no longer control herself, she let out a loud moan and dug her nails into Draco's back. She sighed as he collapsed on top of her, both panting.
Hermione nestled into the curve of Draco's body, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to every beat of his heart. They seemed to blend together, his arms wrapped around her, legs intertwined. She kissed him one last time, before closing her eyes and drifting off, her last thought telling her there was nowhere else she should be.
Harry stumbled through the living room of his hotel, beer bottles and shot glasses littering his path. His eye sight weaved in and out as he made his way to the bedroom.
"Hermione…where is she? That little…hick… slut." Harry said aloud. He tipped the last of his beer into his mouth and fell onto the bed. He felt his world closing in around him, everything becoming closer, tighter. He was finding it harder to breath, harder to decipher between fiction and reality. Struggling with his eyes he finally found himself in a dreamless sleep.