Remain Nameless

Chapter 25

In Draco's estimation he was the most cunning and caring of boyfriends. Granger was going to have no idea what hit her. He patted down his robe pockets once more to check that all his shrunken purchases remained inside, then apparated away.

Whoops.

He'd meant to apparate down the block from her home, but his fuzzy brain had instead dropped him in the bottom level of her house. At least he now knew her wards wouldn't mutilate him. Chuckling to himself as if being dismembered by Granger's protective magic was positively charming, he checked again on the status of his many pocketed items. Now to execute his grand entrance.

Draco Malfoy did not do elaborate romantic gestures. They were degrading, unbecoming of a man of his social standing. Which meant this plan for Granger right now was a singular, momentous event, and he couldn't wait to see the look on her adorable face. No doubt she'd be swept right off her dainty little feet and directly into a lengthy bout of vigorous lovemaking in her bed. Yes, she would be simply thrilled, enchanted even, at the sight of him and the never ending floral arrangements on his person. "Oh Draco!" she'd cry. "This is just too much, Draco! Thank you ever so much, Draco!"

Yes, that is exactly how this was going to play out. She currently only called him by his given name during the throes of passion, but by Merlin he was sure he'd wangle it out of her with this display.

Drunken logic is a funny thing, and this was the lesson Draco stood to learn firsthand.

As he came to the top of her first floor stairs, he made sure to run a hand through his platinum locks to arrange them just right. He was certain he looked quite debonair in his black robes and lightly mussed hair. She was going to bloody swoon. A further brilliant thought occurred to him, and Draco removed a few of the miniaturized bouquets from his robes. He restored about six or so large ones to normal size and gathered them up in his arms before knocking confidently on her door.

He heard muffled voices on the other side of her door and wondered with whom she was speaking. Probably herself, he reasoned fondly, his little swot often mumbled to herself under her breath all the time.

But when the door swung open, the Hermione Granger on the other side did not swoon at the sight of him. She stared at Draco, mouth agog, as she eyed him from head to toe.

"Malfoy? What on earth are you—?"

"Evening, Granger," he drawled in his most alluring tone, leaning against the doorframe. He felt himself slide a little down the jamb but quickly caught himself. A few flower petals shook to the floor.

"Why are you holding all of those flowers?"

"And they said you were brilliant. Come now Granger, surely you must know these are for you," he teased and swept past her into her home.

He turned to face her with a charming smirk on his face, and expected to find her smiling in return, but she still had that confused look that bordered on irritation.

This wasn't going the way he envisioned, not at all.

"Are you drunk?" she accused and Draco scoffed.

"I'll concede that it's possible as I may have indulged in a few beverages with Theo, but I managed to apparate here just fine, thank you."

He thought he heard a snort of muffled laughter from somewhere behind him, but his alcohol addled brain must have imagined the noise.

"And you decided to bring me flowers tonight?"

What was with the interrogation? Couldn't a bloke just bring his girlfriend flowers?