Flake

"I know. It's alright." She said as she reached up to lay her soft palm against my cheek. "But you can make it up next time." Her arm dropped and she grinned warmly and eyes sparkled above the fatigue I found in them.

It was guilt and remorse that caused my arm to wrap swiftly around her waist. I hoisted her body up against mine to kiss her deeply. I had to; I loved her and I knew that she knew "it" was not right. I also knew that there was no reason to deny the wrong I had done.

I was an arrogant, flaky prat. A rotten boyfriend. I had stood her up. I said I would meet her last night and I had intentionally opted not too. I could not say why. I just chose to leave her waiting while I hid behind the curtains of my four-poster bed. I did not sleep because I knew she would wait all night for me and the guilt had brought insomnia. Perhaps I was angry that she did not want to bring our relationship out for public scrutiny. Yes, it was a punishment I had intended for her, yet some how had inflicted upon myself.

She gave my ear a sharp tug and then I loosened my grip, allowing her body to score mine until her mary-janes found purchase. However I did not release her. I just could not. Not yet, anyway.

My jaw set and I watched her brows pucker together as she chewed on her cheek. She was thinking again as she tidied my haphazard necktie. Perhaps she thinks I know that she loves me too. Or maybe she really does not mind that I never showed for our appointment.

Date.

Scam.

Whatever.

I had given up attempting to read her mind long ago. There are too many possibilities of what could possibly be running through her pretty, bushy head.

Hermione Granger was an enigma and I was infinitely captivated.

"Besides, that's the Malfoy way, yeah?" An impish grin stretched her delicate face before she pushed past me to make her appearance at breakfast.

I sneered with disgust and eyed her fine, but tiny frame. "Maybe." I said audibly.

She paused at the stairway and without glancing back, laughed. "Ah, but it seems to me that your 'maybes' pretty much always mean no. I'm going to wager that one is an exception." Then she continued down the empty steps.

No, it was not an exclusion. Malfoys were not flaky. They always kept promises. Despite popular notions. Perhaps to Hermione, Malfoys were a puzzle too, and that is what kept her coming back to me.

Maybe that is how she found herself cuddled in my arms the following Saturday morning.

She had missed the sunrise. Her favorite part of everyday, she once confided to me. Yet, since we began our trysting, she no longer saw them.

As I studied her dusky lashes and parted rosy mouth, it occurred to me that I was completely to blame for her dizzying schedule. Because of me she lacked time to do the things she adored. No time for sunrises, artwork, long soaking baths, or heavy books she called "light reading". Her new agenda consisted of classes, schoolwork, Potter and Weasley, and me. I, Draco Malfoy, who only received minimum of her time.

I, Draco Malfoy, who spent late mornings listening to her snore softly, and who loved every blasted second of it I was allotted.

"Oi, Buster, Whot time es eht?" I, Draco Malfoy, who adored the thickness of her brogue when she roused from slumber.

"Nearly ten." I moved to kiss her, but she sprang from the bed.

"Bloody hell! I'm effing late!" She began to gather her strewn clothes to dress. "You, Draco Malfoy, knew I am suppose to go to sodding Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron!" She pulled on her shirt and threw me a chastising scowl. "You did this on purpose."

I snorted and folded my hands behind my head. "I did no such thing, Poppet." It was also too early to hide my amusement of her foul language. I closed my eyes, intent of finding a doze when suddenly something soft fell across my face. My eyes shot open and my hand found a fluff of thin, white knickers.

My gaze met her akimbo, haughty form. Her mouth was set in a firm pout, her caramel eyes narrowed and her hair tumbled wildly down her shoulders and back. I suddenly wanted her back in the bed, atop me with the objective to punish me for…

"Those were my favorite pair!" She flipped her curls with anger. "And now they are rags due to your pilfering, impatient fingers!"

I smirked generously. "Come now, Poppet. I'll buy you a whole trunk full of them. " I brought them to my nose and inhaled the musky scent of her. The modest blush that spanned her skin did not go unnoticed. "If I couldn't afford to replace them, then I'd not be so careless with the nuisances that bar me from my girl."

She shot a laugh. "Your girl, eh?" She turned away to gather her dressing gown, and snorted a scoff.

"Yes, Poppet, my girl. You. The tremendously spectacular disruption in my life. The one girl in the world, muggle and wizarding, that took my heart and revived it." I stood then, anger, hurt, raw need tugging erratically at my chest. "The one witch who refuses to call me her bloke." I gulped deeply as I came up behind her.

She turned and pulled me against her tiny frame to bury her cheek into my chest. "You are my bloke, Buster, as much as I am your girl."

I dropped a kiss on her crown. "I know it, you know it, but when will it be time for everybody to know it?" I sighed heavily, already knowing what was to come. It was always the same excuse.

"My friends would never accept it. Not with the way you treat them. Like my knickers, my friends are nuisances that you are careless with." She stepped away from me and raised her chin to shake her head in disappointment. "I've told you a thousand times, they'll never like the Malfoy you are."

I only nodded. She was right. I was still unbelievably horrible to Potter, Weasley, and the little Weaslette. Actually come to think of it, I saved Miss Ginny from the wrath that is Millicent just last week, and I bet she never uttered a word of my heroics to Hermione. I voiced that bit of information.

"I know, and Ginny only assumed it was some kind of trickery on your part as well." Hermione eyed me warily, "Perhaps she's right."

As the anger began to register, I realized that she was kidding and bit back a snarky remark. "She does have a right cute little arse on her." I let a full grin span my face. "Aside from that, Potter wouldn't know what to think if I stole the attention of his girl."

She playfully swatted at my arm, "Draco, that's despicable. You shouldn't say those things to me." Then her eyes lowered, "And that's exactly what I was talking about. How is Harry supposed to accept our relationship, when you won't even treat him with civility and respect?"

My shoulders slumped. She was right again.

"Kiss me and smile for me, tell me you'll wait for me…"

I scooped her into my arms, to hold her like I never wanted to let her go. Because I did not. I silenced her singing with a deep thorough kiss of my longing. "Meet me after you return, please?" I murmured breathlessly.

She said she would try, but did not know for sure. She had plans with the Gryffindors, as always, and no I would not want to break her ties. I would never ask her to give up her mates for me. They would ask her why she was late, and she would say something clever and deceitful, they would believe her and never know the that she shared weekend mornings with me.

I spent the day trying to untie a way for her to have both worlds, and hoped that she would come later to help me with a plan of action. Until then I would have to lie too.

Or would I? I decided it was time to be honest, and I found a plan on my own. When I first started my relationship with the muggleborn witch, I had fought my feelings tooth and nail, but only fell faster for her. There was not enough money in the whole wide world to change the way I felt. Trust me, I had just lost it all upon telling my father that I wanted to marry not only a muggleborn, but the very best friend of the "Chosen One". It was the intrigue of the possibility, and my plan was for the same to happen to her friends. As I strode up to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, I felt confident and sure it would be so.

"Potter, Weasley, "I glanced down at the petite redhead at Harry's side, "Miss Ginny." She looked around and dropped her toast onto her plate, Weasley narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Potter tensed, the muscle in his jaw flickering rapidly. " I just wanted to say that I am honestly sorry for all the horrid things I've done to you all." I glanced quickly at a wide eyed Hermione, her adorable mouth still full of food, as she was too shocked to move. "Harry, I only had wanted to be your friend too, but I suppose my ugly disposition ruined that. However, that is not an excuse for all the horrible things I did to you and your friends. I truly am sorry." He nodded slowly, but I knew I was not forgiven. Yet.

I turned to Ron and cleared my throat. "Ron, Ginny, I am sorry that I poked fun at you and your family's misfortune. The fact is you are richer than I could ever imagine being, with such a loving family and all. I suppose I was jealous of that, and your quick friendship with Harry. Once again, that's a reason, not an excuse."

They both stared at me goggled me. Then Ron said, "You didn't apologize to Hermione."

I locked eyes with her, "She knows how I feel about her, I how I will always feel. It's up to her to explain that to you three." Then I spun on my heel and left for my own table.

She never told them. In fact she tried to let me go. Saying I was insane and my plan would never work. Malfoy Trickery, she called it. "News Flash Poppet, Everything you know about me you are going to have to change. Call it by a brand new name."

"That's right, Buster! Your behavior is most definitely not Malfoy!" and yet, she loved my new name the same as the old one. Although she had become sillier about it all. As if putting me on, then off again was going to deter my feelings and plan. Merlin, she was wrong.

I asked Potter to help me with my seeking skills, and he did. Although, I did not need the tutoring, but felt it was a chance to bond with the bespectacled hero.

Miss Ginny sang my praises at they way I help her master a complicated potion.

Yet, Weasley was harder to crack. I tried to talk to him in the library, but he simply walked on by, as if I did not exist. I suggested that I would help him revise his essay for Dark Arts, but he said it was fine without a Slytherin sliming it up. I went out of my way to show my redemption, but failed. Until, I gave him my collection of Quidditch Trading Cards. A collection, I might add, that was worth more than the land he lived on. Yet, to me, his acceptance was worth it.

However, Hermione still refused to tell them about us. As much as it hurt, I realized I would have to force her. I deserved it. She deserved it.

So I once again entered the Great Hall purposely towards the Gryffindor table.

"Hermione." I said and watched her spin in her seat in astonishment.

"Go away, don't talk to me!" She snapped.

"Sorry, just like a tree down by the water, Poppet, I shall not move." She turned from me again. I was really growing tired of her giving me her back. " No matter what silly things you might do." I smirked and put my arms on both sides of her, gripping the table for support. I saw her bite her lip and shake her head softly, "It's time they know." I whispered in her ear.

"Know what, Malfoy?" And she gave the opportunity I was waiting for, she turned her face to mine and I caught her mouth with mine.

At first she resisted, pushing me away. So I found leverage on her waist and arm to pull her out of her seat. Then she relaxed against me and kissed me furiously. As if all the pent up frustration was leaving her body. It was the sweetest surrender. As our tongues tangled, I knew I gave her the best gift. Both her worlds had collided, and harmoniously too. I was forever and publicly her bloke, just as she was my girl.

Ah, what brilliant relief to have the entire world, muggle and wizarding, know it too.

A/N: I do not own anything except the plot. The characters belong to JKR and the song, "Flake" belongs to the very handsome Jack Johnson. I only borrowed them and will return them in a slightly damaged form.giggle Please review...it's food for my soul.