Perfect Storm

Chapter 18

 Someone was poking her and wouldn't stop. Saying nothing, Hermione started aimlessly waving an arm about in hopes of batting away her assailant.

"If you don't get up, we're going to be late," Draco's voice insisted, along with more poking.

Hermione opened her eyes and groaned at the blurry numbers on her clock. "Why are you waking me up at seven on a Saturday morning?"

"Because our date starts at eight-thirty."

Hermione attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes and then stared up at Draco's eager face. If it wasn't so early it'd be adorable. She groaned again and buried her face in her pillow.

"Come on, Granger. I made breakfast." Draco grabbed the pillow from her before, wisely, dashing from the bedroom.

Hermione rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. What alternate universe had she been sucked into? Draco Malfoy was cooking for her and planning dates and being sweet and open and honest. Deciding it was best to just enjoy the unexpected, she stretched, got out of bed, and padded out to the kitchen. Breakfast was indeed ready. Sausage, eggs, and toast were set out on the table.

"You know, most people don't plan dates in the morning," Hermione yawned, slathering strawberry jam onto a slice of toast.

"I thought we had already established that I am not 'most people'," Draco replied, setting a cup of tea beside her plate. Hermione shrugged and nodded as she chewed her toast. "And anyway, what I have planned can't fit into just one evening."

"You're not planning on telling me what you have planned, are you?

"Nope. Eat up and get ready."

As she started on her breakfast, Hermione finally noticed that Draco was showered, dressed, and appeared ready for the day. He was once again dressed casually, with dark denim trousers and a long-sleeved, solid black shirt. At least she didn't have to get all dressed up for whatever they were doing.

By eight-fifteen, Hermione was showered, dressed in jeans and a knitted, canary yellow sweater, and her curls were pulled back into a long braid.

"So, where to first?" Hermione asked, lacing up her trainers.

"You'll see."

Draco held out his arm and Hermione linked hers with it. In an instant, she was side-apparated to a Congress approved point in Central Park.

"You learned all the apparition points?" Hermione asked, unable to hide her surprise.

"Not all of them. Just ones that were pertinent for today. Come on." Draco motioned for her to follow him towards Fifth Avenue.

When they turned a corner, Hermione slowed her pace as she took in the building ahead of them- The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Draco stopped and turned, noticing that Hermione had fallen behind.

"Is this okay? We don't have to go here if you don't want to. I just thought--"

"No, it's great," Hermione interrupted, reaching out to touch his arm and calm his anxious rambling. "I've never been to this location before. Why are we here so early though? It doesn't open for almost another two hours."

"You'll see." He smiled at her and started walking to the museum. Hermione stared at the back of his head in curiosity before hustling to catch up to him. When they reached the ticketing window, Draco stepped right up and said, "Two empty tour tickets, under the name Malfoy."

The woman behind the window smiled, clicked a few buttons on her computer, and two tickets printed out. She handed them out to Draco, saying, "Timothy will be your guide this morning. He's waiting just inside the doors, to the right. Enjoy your visit!"