"Should be by one, but you know Adrian."
Hermione cleared her throat. "I'd like to see this home. And Saturday works for me."
Draco turned his head, staring at her for a moment. Then, he shrugged. "Fine. You're invited, then. And Harry? Do you still want to see the inside of the place?"
"You think they'll let us in again, after last time?"
"Oh, please. Darswaithe wouldn't dream of refusing another large pile of gold." Sucking in a breath, Draco turned back to Rhiannon. "Er . . . sorry."
"If your money helps abandoned children, you'll hear no complaint from me," she said crisply.
"Saturday, then. One o'clock. I'll meet you outside the theatre." Turning, Draco gave Harry a look that was probably supposed to mean something. His eyes were glittering silver. Until he rolled them, that was.
"Oh . . ." Blushing a little, Harry began to usher Hermione towards the front door. "I guess we'll wait for you outside, Draco."
It was a bit annoying that they had to wait a full fifteen minutes. Annoying for Harry, that was. And after they'd been considerate enough to walk a little ways down the street, to give Draco a bit of privacy.
Hermione didn't seem perturbed by the long wait. In fact, she sighed with pleasure as she leaned against a tree. "Draco's really quite the romantic, isn't he? I'd never have guessed."
"Just don't mention it to Ron," said Harry wryly.
"Oh, I didn't mean--" Hermione chuckled. "Now you're the one having me on."
"Hey, I've heard girls in Gryffindor go on about him. They think he's . . . what's the word . . ."
"Dishy," said Hermione, giggling. "I've heard them, too."
"That wasn't the word I was looking for."
"Handsome? Striking? Gorgeous?"
Draco was all that, Harry supposed, but he still didn't like hearing Hermione say it. "What are you doing, practising to make Ron jealous?"
"No, just thinking ahead. Those silly girls in the common room . . . I used to be able to tell them that Draco wasn't worth the time of day, where it really counted. I don't think I'll be able to say that, next year. Not after seeing him with Rhiannon."
Harry snorted. "Oh, yeah. Tell them that Draco's worthwhile inside as well as out. I'm sure that'll go over brilliantly with Ron."
"Oh, stop it. He knows I don't like Draco that way." Hermione tilted her head to the side, and gave Harry a careful look. "Speaking of Ron, though, what about that chess match? Do you think your father threw it on purpose?"
"You know, he's quite clever," Harry drawled. "Don't you think he'd have managed to lose, if that was his plan?"
"Oh, I don't think Snape's pride could take actually losing to a student," mused Hermione. "Let alone a Gryffindor."
All true, but . . . "Why would Snape care if Ron won that money or not?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I'm only asking because Ron wanted me to. He's not sure your father played his best. Personally, I think he just can't believe he held his own against Snape."
"Tell him he held his own." Harry grinned. "Tell him he ought to demand a rematch sometime, when there's more time to play."
"I'll do that."
A few minutes later, when Draco came out, Hermione pressed her lips together, a strange look on her face. Harry didn't understand it until she spoke. "You've got a bit of lipstick on your face," she said, pointing. "There. And there."
"And there," added Harry.
"Yes, well, we're in love," said Draco, his voice haughty even if he was blushing a little bit. He wiped away the traces of pink with a handkerchief that seemed to appear from nowhere, but then, Draco's wandwork always had been rather clever. It wasn't until they were much further from the house, looking for a dark, unnoticed spot from which to Disapparate, that he spoke again. "Hermione? Thank you for coming."
"Oh! You're welcome."
"And thank you for . . ."
"Creative editing?" Her voice was teasing.
"Yes, that."
"Don't I get any thanks?"
"No," said Draco, glancing at Harry. "Brothers just get taken for granted, mostly."
"Prat."
"No, I'm not. Anyway, I already did something for you today. I wasn't going to mention it, but I bet Marsha would say I should."
Harry thought back, but couldn't figure out what Draco meant.
"Owled a letter off to Arabella Figg, since Severus said she could get it to your cousin." By moonlight, Harry saw Draco's throat convulse a little, like he was swallowing. "Apology for my remarks the other night. And no, not because I've changed my opinion of what went on in that house. It's just . . . I thought you'd appreciate it."
"I do," said Harry, swallowing himself, then. God, Hermione had been more right than she knew. And Severus as well. Rhiannon was astoundingly good for Draco. Even if it all turned out badly in the end.
Harry nodded mentally, deciding he'd do his best to stop worrying about what the future might hold. All anybody really had was today, after all. One today after the next.
"Ready?" asked Hermione quietly, looking from Harry to Draco and back.
"Yeah," said Harry. He wanted to say more to Draco, but he couldn't seem to quite find the words. But with Hermione there, it wasn't the right time, anyway. He threw Draco a smile, though, knowing that his brother would understand.
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Coming Soon in A Summer Like None Other:
Chapter 21: "Shock and Awww"
Comments very welcome,
Aspen in the Sunlight and Mercredi
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Chapter 21: A Letter from Exeter
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=13093&chapter=21
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A Summer Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Twenty-One:
A Letter from Exeter
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"That's very good, Harry," said Roger, smiling brightly as Harry reached the wall and neatly flipped himself into a standing position. "I think you've finally got the backstroke licked. Now, four pool lengths of breaststroke, and we'll call it a day. Remember, you need to make your body lift and drop."
"Hate breaststroke," said Harry, panting a little from all the laps he'd already done.
"I know," said Roger. "It's not my favourite, either. But it strengthens muscles that are underused in the other strokes, and if you ever need to swim a really long distance, you may need to turn to it."
"Yeah, all right," said Harry, pushing off from the wall.
By the time he finished and climbed out of the pool, Rhiannon was over at the bleachers, talking with Snape and Draco. A little surprised, Harry glanced over to the toddlers' pool. Oh, somebody else was covering the lifeguard position. So that was all right, then.
He towelled his hair dry, his feet padding the concrete as he made his way over to where Snape was waiting.
" . . . and my mum and dad are very much looking forward to meeting you," Rhiannon was saying.
Harry gave Draco a questioning look, but Draco gave a tiny shake of his head. Harry took that to mean that no, Rhiannon hadn't mentioned magic to her parents.
Snape obviously had the same concerns. "I'd be pleased to meet them, Miss Miller, but I assume you understand that there can be no real discussion of the school I teach at?"