Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love

Chapter 28: The Viking, Shameful Conduct of/Healing, Pleasures of

The dance, the lights, the music, the woman in his arms – it was a moment of scintillating joy that would become one of Draco's fondest memories and produce astoundingly powerful Patronuses for years to come.

They broke apart with a breathy, clinging regret. Granger pulled away first, then Draco kissed her again; he felt the imminent knell of reality and wanted just one more.

Then he tried to pull back, but she rose to the tips of her toes and pressed her mouth to the edge of his jaw. His hand slipped to the nape of her neck, rose petals brushed against his knuckles, she sighed against his cheek.

The dream of the moment began to fade. Draco ran his fingers down her side to memorise the feel of her and kissed her one last time to seal away the memory of her sweet mouth.

They stared at each other, wet lipped, bewildered, their drunken faculties finally catching up to what they had done.

Reality was cold and unyielding and it hit hard. Draco's brain, which had been, by all accounts, absent all evening, returned. It asked, with violence, what the fuck he thought he was doing? An Auror did not snog his Principal.

Granger looked equally confounded. She took a step back. There was self-reproach, regret, and dread in the movement.

They regarded each other with mounting alarm and a desperation to assert that it had been nothing at all.

Granger, stricken, found her tongue first. "We shouldn't have done that."

"No – we shouldn't have," said Draco, hating how breathless he sounded.

Granger looked at the floor, at the mirrors, at anywhere but him. "I know that we're not – erm – I know that – obviously, you know–"

"Yes, obviously–"

"And also – we aren't–"

"Yes."

"We have a working relationship," said Granger. "And there are strict rules about this sort of thing. For very good reasons."

"There are. Yes. Rules. And a Code of Conduct that is unequivocal on – on things of this nature."

"Right. Of course."

"It was a lapse in judgement," said Draco.

"Yes. We were both – both under the influence. It won't happen again. I wouldn't want to contravene anything and jeopardise – this. You as my Auror and – and everything."

"Right."

"Right," repeated Granger.

Draco attempted to find his insouciance. "It was the drinks. Just the drinks."

"Obviously, yes. Nothing more."

"Nothing more," repeated Draco.

"Good," said Granger.

"Shall we – go to bed?" asked Draco.

"Yes."

"I mean separately, of course. Go to – beds. Plural. I mean we can leave together but go to separate beds."

"Right," said Granger, nodding vigorously in the face of this critical clarification. "Yes."

"Because we would never go to the same bed, obviously–"

"Of course not."

"–That would be mad."

"Yes."

"We aren't mad."

"No. We are – perfectly sane."

Having established their vexing soundness of mind, they turned to the door.