Title: Forty Things (2/4)

Author: Silveris

Rating: R

Status: Complete, but two posts for now

Genre: Romance, kinda fluffy

Summary: The forty things a girl would die for, according to Draco Malfoy. DHr.

AN/Disclaimer: HP is not mine, but if JKR gave it to me, I'd gladly accept. The list isn't mine, either. I came across it at my Friendster bulletin and thought, 'Oooh, this is a good idea for a DHr fic...'

OOO

Draco was growing uncomfortable of sitting on the dusty closet floor, so after lining up the stray pink shoe with the rest of Hermione's sensible footwear, he padded over to the bed and flopped down on the messed up sheets.

Immediately, he resumed his perusal of the list.

11. Call her at night to wish her sweet dreams.

12. Message her in the morning and tell her to have a good day at work and how much you miss her.

13. Always remind her how much you love her.

14. Tell her the way you feel about her.

"Hello?"

"Hermione?"

"Draco?"

"Do you know how hard it is to find a phone in this part of Sofia?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Glad you asked."

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione laughed. "How's your trip coming?"

He sighed. "So-so."

"Really? Having fun?"

"Yeah," he drawled. "I guess. I mean, it's Quidditch. It's fun."

Silence.

"What time is it there?" he suddenly asked.

Hermione glanced at her wrist watch, the silver one he got her a week ago, the one he wants her to always wear. "Almost ten."

"You should sleep now," he said. "Wouldn't want you to have eyebags." There was a slight chuckle in his tone.

"But I still have lots of papers to sign. Maybe in half an hour."

"No, go to sleep now."

"Are you ordering me?"

"Yes."

"Git."

"Kid."

Hermione stuck out her tongue at the receiver, as if he'd see her.

"Go to sleep, babe. Or I'll send my owl over to peck you to death," he said jokingly.

"Alright, alright. Going to sleep in ten minutes," she said irritatingly.

There was another pregnant pause, and then, "Good night."

"You too. Whatever time it is there."

"Sleep tight."

"Okay."

"Sweet dreams."

"I'll dream of you."

And another few seconds of silence.

"Babe?"

"Hm?"

"Olive juice."

She smiled and nodded. "Ditto."

Then she put down the receiver.

…A few hours later…

Hermione stomped over to the half-open window where a black eagle owl waited, incessantly tapping the glass.

It was not even six in the morning yet, and Hermione was already cranky. Who in the hell would send an owl at such an ungodly hour?

Grudgingly, she opened the window fully and watched as the owl fluttered in and landed on top of the lamp, which was giving out a soft light. It looked at Hermione curiously and then stretched out its leg so she could pull out the rolled up parchment attached.

Squinting because her eyes hadn't adjusted to the dim brightness yet, she slowly untied the knot and unrolled the parchment.

Hey babe

She rolled her eyes. Draco.

Meeting's going well. I expect we'll be able to close a deal a day early. Despite the wonders of Bulgaria, something here just doesn't feel right, and I would be glad of an excuse to leave soon.

Hermione began to wonder what the problem was.

Of course, after two days here, seeing the same old faces of Quidditch blokes and their managers, you'd think I'd be in Man Heaven…or if I were a girl…whatever.

She chuckled lightly. She could almost hear him speak…

I do hope Fate gives you better days at the Ministry, since I seem to be getting the bad ones. I think it's only fair, right?

Anyway, I soon figured out why I'm just not into this trip.

Hermione bent down and lifted the parchment closer to the light. Draco had written the next line in tiny handwriting. But when she finally made it out, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her drowsy features. She felt awake now. And her heart just skipped a dozen beats.

I miss you. Terribly. Just as much as olive juice.

Take care.

Draco

Draco wondered where she put his letter. He made another mental note to clean the closet thoroughly, in case he would run in to one of her Letters boxes.

15. Take her for long walks at night.

16. When walking next to each other, grab her hand.

17. Kiss her on the tip of her nose; it will give her the hint that you want to kiss her.

18. Kiss her on the lips.

"Isn't this better?" he asked.

"I don't know. It's just as cold as morning," she replied.

They were walking through the park, but this time, it was at night. And Crookshanks was safely locked in the flat.

Hermione learned her lesson and had brought her own coat. The night was chilly and eerie—there were no other people in sight. It was awfully quiet, too. All she could hear was the rhythmic chirping of crickets, but even that seemed too silent.

It was like she and Draco were the only two human beings left in the world.

She zipped up her jacket and darted her eyes left and right. Nothing weird was about to happen, she knew. It was just the surrounding that was peculiar. There weren't even snoggers by the bushes.

"Are you cold?" he asked again.

"A bit."

They continued to walk in silence, their path illuminated by a few lampposts. A squirrel wandered by the path ahead of them, and as it studied the nearing couple's faces, it squeaked and scrambled back up its tree. Draco reckoned it was the squirrel that Crookshanks fancied, but he didn't voice this out to Hermione.

An owl hooted at the distance.

The sudden sound caused Hermione to jerk a bit. Automatically, without any thought at all, Draco reached over and laced his nimble fingers with her small cold ones.

She stiffened a bit and then her grip softened. He felt her rub her palm against his, hoping to get friction to heat them up. He responded by tightening his hold, trapping the warmth between them.

Draco then felt sudden moisture on the tip of his nose. And another one on his forehead.

He looked up and realized it was beginning to drizzle.

"Damn," he whispered before he tugged on Hermione's hand and pulled her towards the squirrel's tree.

As soon as they were sheltered under the protective branches and leaves of the tree, the drizzle started to pick up speed.

"Great. I was hoping it was going to rain on a cold night," he said sarcastically, staring hard at the now wet path.

Hermione giggled and then reached for his face. He turned his attention towards her, locking eyes. But she blushed a bit, turned away, stopped giggling and proceeded to wipe away the droplets of rain from his forehead and cheek.

He watched her concentrate on her task. She was trying hard not to stare back at him. He knew she could feel his penetrating gaze—she was still blushing and he could feel her hot breath against his face.

He continued to stare at her face. She was perfect. Beautiful. His.

She had the softest, most capturing brown eyes that, with one look, could melt his heart into a lovesick puddle of goo. Her cute button nose was the victim of his playful pinching, which she didn't really appreciate. And as much as he wanted to kiss and caress her plump rosy cheeks, he wanted to spend more time attached to her full pink lips instead.

Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed a droplet from the tip of her nose.

She pulled her head back a fraction in shock. He didn't notice, because he finally made her look into his eyes.

And that was all he needed before he held her face in his hands and planted his lips firmly against hers.

She was caught by surprise that she didn't know what she was doing at first. Hungrily, he kissed her with a force that knocked the breath out of her. His lips moved demandingly against her at first, but slowly eased after a few seconds. It wasn't long until she actually put her own pressure into it. He responded by brushing his tongue across her bottom lip, asking for invitation.

Willingly, she opened her lips more and allowed his tongue to caress her own. He explored the cavern of her mouth, tasting her strawberry sweetness and welcoming her softness….

…Draco knew he had to wrench his thoughts away from that memory, or he wasn't going to do anything much all afternoon except read the list and wank.

So he moved on to the next items…

OOO

TBC.

AN: Oh, don't worry. This won't be left to rot. I've finished the whole thing and just divided them into four parts. I have this thing with loooong entries.

And the olive juice part? You'd have to read Persephone-Granger's "Pineapple, Yum! Or oh, Coconut!" wink wink Oh, alright, I won't be evil. If you look in the mirror and say "olive juice", it looks like "I love you." Get it? Cool.

And the "ditto" is so Ghost (y'know, the movie with Demi Moore, Whoopi Goldberg and that ghost guy).