And she felt the same. He could tell. It was all there in her kiss, in the way her breathing had quickened, in the--
Draco felt a pressure on one shoulder and realised that Rhiannon was pushing him away. Not as though to reject him, though. It was just a nudge to get his attention.
He drew back from her, mere inches, and smiled. "Hmm?"
"You're a really good kisser." Stretching her neck up, she quickly moved her mouth against his, just as if she couldn't get enough. "But I have to get back, Draco."
It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to tell her that her job could go hang. He'd be only too happy to get her that flat, and--
Too soon, too soon, he chided himself. Besides, given the remarks she'd made, he thought she'd probably react badly to any overt display of wealth. She'd think he was showing off, when all he meant was to show her that what was his was hers.
But yeah, too soon.
Draco got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. "All right. Do you work during the week-end?"
If she did, he was planning on going swimming all week-end long, even if the uncle was about and kept them from getting to know one another better. Just being near her would be worth it.
"No, thank God. I've got rehearsal tomorrow morning, though. After that I'm free until Monday."
A hint if ever he'd heard one. Remembering what Harry had said about the things a Muggle might do on a date, Draco diffidently suggested, "Shall we catch a movie, then? And perhaps dinner?"
And dancing, he thought. He wanted to hold her in his arms, wanted to pull her close up against his body as they swayed together.
But he didn't suggest dancing. He didn't want to seem too eager. He could mention it after they'd eaten.
"Sounds brilliant," said Rhiannon as she bent over to gather up the rubbish left over from their meal.
Draco found himself torn. On the one hand, he didn't like to see her playing the house-elf. She shouldn't have to ever do any menial labour. On the other hand, though, the sight of her shorts stretched tight across her bum . . . he couldn't quite bring himself to regret the fact that she was clearing things away.
She popped the rubbish in a bin, then wiped her hands together, her nose wrinkling. "Huh. Should have saved a napkin."
It took every bit of Draco's willpower to stop himself from drawing his wand. One quick cleaning charm was all he needed.
Fucking Ministry, he thought. Well, he might not be able to cast a spell in front of her right now, but he was going to find a way to.
Soon.
------------------------------------------------------
They got back to the pool at one minute past one. Rhiannon's uncle glared at her, but at least he didn't yell. Rhiannon gave Draco a little wave as she dashed away.
Draco stared after her, wondering if all she had to do was strip off her shorts and top, or if she was going to undress completely, then pull that stretchy red swimsuit up to cover all her bits.
His mouth went dry just thinking about it.
"Can I help you?" asked the uncle, sounding a little bit like he was spoiling for a fight.
A fight Draco wasn't going to give him. No, he was going to be good as Galleons around her family, no matter how much it rankled.
"Free swim opens at one, doesn't it?" he said, stepping toward the pool area.
"I need to see your swim pass."
Honestly. He thought Draco was trying to sneak in? He thought Draco was trying to cheat the pool of the measley two pounds the sign said they charged per day? He didn't think Draco could afford it?
The absolute gall. At least Rhiannon had had the sense to recognise Draco as someone with plenty of funds at his disposal. Even if she did sort of resent them.
Draco fished in his trouser pocket, intending to brandish his pass with flourish. One problem, though. He didn't seem to have it. Well, he'd just pay his way in, then. He did have plenty of Muggle money with him.
"Draco, what are you doing?"
Turning, he saw that his father and Harry had come in behind him.
"Forgot my pass."
"On top," said Harry, passing over a plain canvas bag.
Draco pulled back the hand holding the ten pound note, then grabbed the sodding swim pass to wield it. The uncle gave a curt nod, and didn't ask to see Harry's pass, which struck Draco as outrageous. But then again, Harry wasn't dating his niece.
However, he did stop Severus from going in.
"Planning to swim this afternoon, are you?"
That was when Draco noticed that Severus was carrying a plain canvas bag as well. It was a bit ludicrous, really, all three of them with matching bags. Ugly ones, at that. Severus had bought them when they'd gone shopping, but Draco hadn't known they were intended for use at the pool. They looked awfully vulgar, in his opinion.
"Yes," said Severus.
"Two quid, then. Far as I remember, you didn't purchase yourself a pass."
"Here, let me," said Draco when Severus began to reach into a deep pocket. "I already have it out."
Draco was a tiny bit surprised when Severus actually let him pay. But it felt good. Harry had been right in what he'd said about money. Inside a family, you wanted to share what you had. Not that Severus needed him to. But it felt good, all the same.
"Didn't think you were really the swimming type, Dad," said Draco as they headed into the men's changing room.
Ha. Dad. Severus couldn't say that Draco was asking for anything this time, could he?
"I do know how."
"Well, of course you do." Draco flashed a grin as he plunked his bag down on a concrete bench. "You've got that fabulous tub hidden away, right? Size of a small pool. Though you know, I have heard some students in other houses claim you'd melt if water ever touched you."
Severus blinked, clearly baffled. "Melt? Why?"
"Actually, I don't know," said Draco, sounding just as confused.
"Wizard of Oz again," said Harry. "The witch melts when she gets water thrown at her."
His tone suggested that that should explain everything, but Draco was still confused. "But why?"
For a moment, Harry stared. Then he chuckled. "Oh. The witch is evil in that one. Well, that witch, at least. Actually, if you read a lot of children's stories, you find out that most witches are cast as evil."
"You can't be serious," said Draco, his eyebrows drawing together. "Really?"
Hmm, he'd have to be careful when he talked to Rhiannon. The plan was taking better shape in his mind, all the time. First he'd impress her with some spells, somewhere off alone, just the two of them. He'd get her back into that state of mind she'd had as a child, when she'd thought--and rightly, too--that there really was such a thing as magic. Then he'd hand her his wand, and when she felt it hum for her, he'd tell her that there was a reason for that, and that she could make it work for her, just as she'd always wanted.
But he wouldn't use the word witch, not right at first. Not until she understood that it didn't mean something bad.
The only part of his plan that needed work, really, was how to avoid getting caught for doing a spot of underage magic out in the open. Too bad he couldn't invite her to Devon so he could do the magic show while he was safely behind the wards.
But he knew better than to even ask. There was no possible way Severus would agree to have knowledge of his secret cottage extended even further.
Draco sighed.
Then he forgot all about his plotting, because by then he'd reached into his bag, past the fluffy white towel folded on top, and he'd seen what Harry had brought him.
Draco snatched out his swim trunks and whirled to face Harry. "You fiend! You absolute fiend!"
Harry tilted his head to the side, obviously trying for an innocent expression. "They're quite nice. What, you don't think so?"
Draco shuddered. The trunks were crimson with a wavy line of gold coursing down each side seam. Gryffindor trunks!