Chapter 25- The Four Cloves
It felt nice to talk to Viktor face-to-face after such a long time. The problem was it was a little hard to concentrate on what he was saying with the other couple within three feet of her. Hermione heard Viktor mention something about the Bulgarian weather, but she was more interested in what Draco had to say.
“Simone, have I ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?” Draco commented loudly from behind.
“No,” Simone chuckled. “I don’t think you have.”
“Well, they’re beautiful,” Draco said. “An exquisite green, but with the tiniest hint of blue. Beautiful.”
That only caused Simone to chuckle even more.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Have I ever told you that you have beautiful eyes? Honestly, where was the originality in that? And since when did Draco Malfoy talk like that?
“Have you drunk it before, Herm-own-ninny?” Viktor asked her.
“Huh? What?”
“I was asking if you have drunk it before,” Viktor repeated, eyeing her.
“Er- Yes, sure,” Hermione answered uncertainly, not wanting him to think she was not paying attention to him.
Viktor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You have drunk yak milk?”
“Yak’s milk?” Hermione stared. Why in the world was he talking about yak’s milk?
Maybe it was a Bulgarian thing.
“I did not know you like it,” Viktor said, apparently happy. “Next time we will go have it together.”
Hermione laughed nervously, not quite knowing how to respond to an invitation to drinking yak’s milk.
Viktor started talking again, this time about Quidditch. He was telling her that Bulgaria had won the friendly match, but England proved to be a tough opponent. Again, though Hermione tried her best to focus on him, she could not help but overhear the conversation going on behind her, which was currently involving Simone having very kissable lips. That comment made Hermione think of the near kiss she shared with a certain blonde minutes ago, and anger welled up inside of her once again.
That is it! Hermione thought heatedly. Why do I infuriate myself by listening to all that stupid Malfoy has to say about his girlfriend?!
“…so my team vill have to vork hard next time,” Viktor had just completed saying with a sigh.
Hermione hugged Viktor lightly, praying that he was still talking about Quidditch. “I think it’s good enough you won. I'm sure you played wonderfully too. Congratulations.”
Viktor looked fleetingly confused, then said, “Thank you, Herm-own-ninny.”
“How do you maintain that figure of yours, Simone?” Draco’s teasing voice floated from behind. “Perfect.”
“Why were you hiding in the alleyway just now?” Hermione inquired, trying to ignore the incessant shower of compliments Simone was receiving, courtesy of Draco. She had a feeling that he was being loud on purpose.
Viktor gazed around furtively, as if afraid he was being stalked. “There vas a group of girls staring at me vhen I vas vaiting for you at the broomsticks place,” he informed her in an undertone. “And there vere some people vatching me from inside the place as vell.”
“Considering the amount of food we get in Hogwarts,” Draco continued saying. “I'm surprised you don’t look like Granger.”
“Popularity comes with a price.” Hermione told Viktor gently. “I hope it wasn’t” Hey! Hold on a minute!” She whipped around to face Draco when fully processed the implication of his words, Viktor forgotten for the time being. “What do you mean by that?!” she sputtered, glaring.
“Tut-tut, Granger,” Draco examined the enraged expression on her face, “eavesdropping, are we?”
“Don’t make it sound like I wanted to!” Hermione snapped. “I can’t help it if you're so loud. If you could lower your volume, then maybe I wouldn't have heard what I was not supposed to. Besides, you have no right talking behind my back.” She frowned. “No pun intended.”
Draco narrowed his grey eyes. “It’s not my fault that you're listening to something you ought not to be listening to,” he sneered. “Is Krum that boring?” he added in a quieter tone.
Hermione could feel the color rising up her cheeks, not entirely sure whether it was due to anger from Draco’s statement or guilt from the truth of it.
“Forget about it, Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor coaxed. Apparently, he had not heard Draco’s last comment. “I am certain that Mr. Malfoy is simply being funny. Joking.”
Deciding not to pursue the matter further, Hermione turned her back on Draco, though not before noticing his lips tremble into a small smirk.
The two couples arrived at The Four Cloves a while later. A little elf dressed as cupid greeted them as they approached, holding open the glass doors for them to enter. Hermione noticed that the little green cloves falling from the signboard above had been replaced by red hearts.
“Please wait to be seated,” the elf squeaked, ushering them inside. “You will be attended to shortly.”
The glass doors shut behind them and the group of four stood behind a wooden podium, waiting for service. The aroma of food was tantalizing and Hermione felt her stomach growl softly, begging for food.
In order to get her mind off her hunger, Hermione took the opportunity to scan the area. The restaurant was bigger than it looked from the outside. Polished wooden tables and chairs dominated most of the place, but Hermione noted a number of booths with plush red cushion nestled in the corners. These booths looked private and personal, away from the rest of the crowd.
Candles hang in mid-air, illuminating the eatery in an orangey glow. There was even some decoration for Valentine’s Day, but nothing overly gaudy. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, the ambience excellent for this romantic day. Waiters and waitresses dressed in uniform red robes (usually the robes were green) marched around, serving tables.
Hermione noted a few familiar faces, but not anyone she knew personally. She also noticed that she was getting quite a few stares from the patrons of the restaurant. She soon realized though that they were staring at Viktor, not her. Of course the star Bulgarian Seeker would receive looks when he went out like that. He should be used to it.
“Don’t you think it’s a wonderful place, Drakey-poo?” Simone grasped Draco’s arm with enthusiasm, her eyes darting around.
Hermione’s eyes, in the meantime, grew as large as saucers, her eyebrows shooting up. “Drakey-poo?”
“Do you have a problem, Granger?” Draco shot her an icy look.
Stifling a laugh, Hermione maintained a straight face. “No, no problems at all.”
An elderly lady wearing shocking pink robes and heavily done make-up glided to the podium. She seemed to be donned with every piece of jewelry she owned and smiled dreamily at the group in front of her.
“Ah, young love…” she sniffed dramatically, clutching her long fingers together. “So beautiful! It reminds me of the days when I myself was youthful.” Her glassy blue eyes acquired a faraway look, and for some time, the four of them simply looked at her, perplexed.
“Oh dear, where are my manners!” the pink lady suddenly said. She was back on earth it seemed. “I have been going on about myself! I tend to do that sometimes, so do forgive my absent-mindedness. Good evening, dearies. I'm Mrs. Cloves. Table for four, I assume?” She said all of this in one rapid breath.
“Yes, table for four,” Draco replied when no one said anything. Mrs. Cloves distinctly reminded him of a rounder and taller version of Professor Trelawney, minus the absurdly thick spectacles.
“By the by, you can leave your jackets and traveling cloaks on the rack,” Mrs. Cloves told them, motioning to the wooden stand behind them.
“Let me,” Viktor said, courteously taking Hermione’s jacket from her after he had placed his own on the rack.
Hermione smiled. “Thank you.”
Taking Viktor’s lead, Draco did the same, moving forward to take Simone’s jacket from her. “Allow me.”
“Why, thank you,” Simone said, wriggling out of her cardigan.
Hermione was pretty sure that most of the men in the restaurant had stopped breathing as Simone handed the cardigan to Draco. Hermione had noticed the eyes of some of the men sweeping over Simone when she entered, but now, as she revealed the backless, lace maroon top (which really accentuated her assets, if you know what I mean) she had on underneath her sweater, ogling would have been an understatement. Even Viktor was gaping at her.
“Merlin Simone,” Draco breathed, resting his hand on her waist, “where did you get that outfit from?”
“Gladrags,” Simone responded, liking the attention from Draco. “It was on sale.”
Draco grinned. “I think I might ask my father if he’s interested in endorsing a new clothing store,” he told her playfully. “Especially if they sell clothes like that.”
I didn’t realize wearing practically nothing was in fashion nowadays, Hermione thought, irritated both at Simone’s scanty top (if you could call it that) and Draco’s reaction to it.
Picking up four menus, Mrs. Cloves invited the four to follow her. “Right this way, please,” she piped jovially. She led them to the far corner of her restaurant, coming to a halt in front of a booth. The booth was in the shape of a semi-circle, surrounding an oak table.
The two couples took a moment to look around at each other, as though unsure of how to proceed next. They had expected a regular table with four chairs. Each of them seemed to wondering the same thing inwardly “ How do we sit around this table?
“I don’t suppose you want to stand and have your meal?” Mrs. Cloves questioned jokingly, oblivious to their plight. “Although that can be arranged.”
“Granger, you and I can sit in the middle, what with our little situation,” Draco suggested, pointing to the Love-Knot. “Then Simone can sit next to me and Krum next to you.”
“All right,” Hermione agreed. “It does sound like the sensible thing to do.” She slid in with Draco and made room for Viktor to sit beside her.
“Everybody comfortable?” Mrs. Cloves asked, handing the menus around. When she saw everyone nod in response, she smiled cheerily. “Jolly good! I’ll send a waiter to you shortly. Meanwhile, take your time to decide.”
She was about to walk away from the table, but she stopped in her tracks and turned back to the group. “Silly me! I forgot a little detail. We’re having a couples’ special today! One big meal to be shared by two. It’s on the last page of the menu. Do give it a try. Have a lovely evening! Toodles!” Winking, she blew them a kiss and sauntered away.
“Quite a piece of work, that one,” Draco commented, shaking his head.
“I vas thinking she is a nice lady,” Viktor said earnestly. “Very gracious.”
Hermione touched Viktor’s arm. “I agree, she was gracious.”
“You’d agree with him even if he had said she was a goblin in disguise and had an apple tree growing out of her head,” Draco snorted.
Hermione looked affronted. “Nonsense! I merely believe that she was gracious! It’s my own opinion.”
“Whatever you say, Granger.”
Seeing that Hermione was prepared to launch into a series of attacks, Simone quickly diverted Draco’s attention to her. “Drakey-poo, I propose we get the couples’ special.” She toyed with the sleeve of his shirt. “I think it would be romantic to share a meal together. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” he said, leaning in close to Simone. “And I'm definitely in the mood for romance,” he added in a whisper loud enough for Hermione to hear.
Refraining the urge to gag at the prospect of Draco being romantic, Hermione directed her focus to Viktor, who was studying the menu diligently. For some not so inexplicable reason, she was hoping he would suggest having the couples’ special.
Instead, Viktor looked up from the menu and said, “Herm-own-ninny, I vill be having the chicken. Vat vood you have?”
Hermione saw the cocky expression on Draco’s face, which clearly read, ‘Score one!’
“The salmon, I think,” she told Viktor, disappointment edged in her voice.
“Vonderful.”
Draco moved his lips close to Hermione’s ear. “Vonderful indeed,” he mimicked softly. “Not as romantic, but that will have to suffice for you.” His tone was not as malicious as she had expected and she suppressed the shudder running down her spine.
A waiter arrived within the next few moments with a red quill positioned over some parchment. “May I take your order?”
Draco recited Hermione and Viktor’s orders, and then added, “And one couples’ special for me and the lady.” He placed his arm around Simone’s shoulders to indicate who he meant.
“Very well, sir.” The waiter went over the orders again to ensure he got it right. Then, looking around the table, he asked, “Any drinks for you?”
“Yes please, I’ll have one Rockvodka-soda,” Simone told him, glancing up from the menu.
“Firewhiskey for me,” Draco said.
Viktor closed his menu and set it on the table. “I vill be having the Firevhiskey as vell.”
“And what about you, miss?” the waiter asked Hermione politely.
“One Butterbeer,” she replied.
“Always the safe and boring one, aren’t you Granger?” Draco murmured into Hermione’s ear again. He then turned his attention to his date. “You know Simone, I like women who take risks,” he said loudly this time, for all to hear. “Daring enough to try new things. That’s what I like about you. Adventurous, bold, outgoing… Not at all rigid and dull.” He winked at her.
“Make that a Rockvodka-soda, please,” Hermione changed her decision in an instant, not even once looking at the boy sitting next to her, who smirked to himself.
“Herm-own-ninny, are you certain?” Viktor questioned, his eyes filled with concern. “It is strong alcohol for a first-time drinker such as yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” Hermione reassured. “I can handle it.”
The determination in her voice was definite, and Viktor did not push the subject further.
Their drinks arrived first, brought to them by the same waiter. As he set the glasses down, Hermione stared at he bluish liquid he placed in front of her. She had never in her life had alcohol and felt a little nervous having to try some now. What if she did not like it? Or what if she choked on it? Worse, what if she was not particularly tolerant toward it?
“Cheers, Simone!”
Draco’s gleeful cry brought Hermione out of her thoughts. The blonde linked arms with his date and guzzled his Firewhiskey merrily.
Pushing her anxiety aside, Hermione picked up her glass and carefully sipped on the contents inside. Her face screwed up as the tangy flavor danced around her tongue, and she quickly swallowed. It was worse than she had anticipated.
“You like it?” Viktor asked.
Draco was eyeing her carefully, as if to see her reaction to the alcohol.
Hermione nodded slowly, forcing a smile on her lips. She was not going to allow Draco the satisfaction of a smirk. “It’s nice really.” To show that she meant what she said, she took another sip, keeping her face as straight as possible.
The main course followed the drinks. Presentation-wise, the food looked fantastic; taste-wise, it was even better.
“How is your chicken, Viktor?” Hermione asked, glancing over at her date’s plate.
“Very good. Tender and vell-done. Vood you like to try a bite?”
Upon seeing Hermione nod, Viktor cut her a portion of the meat and poised it in front of her mouth. When she attempted to take the fork from his hand, he shook his head. “No, please, let me do the honor of feeding you.”
“Hmmm, that is good,” Hermione said, taking the meat from his fork and chewing it slowly.
“I didn’t know you were incapable of feeding yourself, Granger,” Draco sniggered.
“Not every gesture of affection has to involve groping, Malfoy,” Hermione shot back after swallowing. The corners of her mouth twitched into a self-satisfied smile when she saw the scowl on Draco’s face and the embarrassment on Simone’s.
Cutting a piece of her salmon, Hermione brought her fork near Viktor’s mouth. “Try it,” she urged him.
Allowing himself to be fed by the Head girl, Viktor took a bite of her salmon. “Delicious!” he exclaimed.
Hermione let out a lighthearted laugh when she saw a little sauce from her salmon at the corner of Viktor’s mouth. Without telling him about it, she picked up her napkin and wiped it for him.
Viktor smiled down at her fondly and muttered, “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
As hard as Draco attempted to take no notice of the activity going on beside him, his eyes kept sneaking glances at the couple. An unexplainable rush of emotion ran through him as he watched Hermione clean Viktor’s mouth. It brought back memories of the time she had done the same for him at Hogsmeade, when they were alone, patrolling.
Shaking his ponderings out of his head, Draco focused on Simone. She was a bombshell, no doubt, yet it surprised him (and even scared him a little) to think that the brown-haired girl beside him occupied more of his thoughts this evening.
Clearing his thoughts once again, Draco watched Simone as she picked up the last chunk of carrot from the large plate of food they were sharing. Before she could put it in her mouth, however, Draco called out, “I wanted that.”
The gruffness of his voice told Simone that he had something in mind. Slowly, she brought the vegetable close to Draco’s mouth, but pulled it away as soon as he tried to bite it. Grinning impishly, she placed the carrot near his lips again, only to withdraw at the last moment.
“Playing games, are we?” Draco chortled, evidently enjoying himself.
Simone shrugged, feigning a look of innocence. “Perhaps.”
“Well, I love games.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at the childishness of it all.
Giggling, Simone repeated her little ‘game’ again. This time though, Draco managed to grab hold of the carrot with his teeth. He yanked it off the fork and wiggled his eyebrows in triumphant.
Simone pouted slightly, pretending to be saddened by the loss of her carrot.
Draco removed the vegetable from between his teeth and stared at Simone evocatively. “If you want it, come and get it.” With that, he replaced the carrot back in the same position, sandwiched between his pearly whites.
“Herm-own-ninny, are you feeling vell?” Viktor queried uncertainly. “You are looking a little…angry.” Hermione’s eyes had been fixed on the pair beside her ever since they started the little carrot fiasco. Come to think of it, her eyes had been riveted by the couple a fair number of times so far.
“I'm fine!” came Hermione’s testy reply, startling Viktor, who backed away from her.
Truthfully, Hermione was anything but fine as she observed Simone edge toward Draco, her lips making their way for the red root sticking out of his mouth. Reaching her target, she nibbled on the end of the carrot, a mischievous smile set on her face. She kept on doing this until there was barely half an inch of it left between Draco’s lips.
Simone’s smile grew wider, giving away the other intentions she had in mind which did not quite involve eating carrot. Crossing her long legs over one another, her lips reached for the carrot, or so it seemed.
“Oh honestly! Get a room!” Hermione all but slammed her hand on the table, causing Simone to bang her leg on the underside of the table in fright. She winced as the pain traveled down her leg.
In the interim, Draco did not appear unsettled by Hermione’s outburst. Quite the contrary, he looked rather smug. Chewing on the remaining of the carrot, he faced Hermione.
“Why that’s a wonderful idea, Granger,” he said in his aristocratic drawl. “I'm sure they have suitable rooms in The Three Broomsticks. But would you mind staying with me and Simone in the room? Overnight?”
Draco flashed a satisfied grin when his statement produced the desired effect; Hermione was as red as the carrot he had just eaten. “You're a brazen prick, Malfoy,” she mumbled.
Dinner continued quietly. At least for a few moments, until Viktor started whispering sweet nothings into Hermione’s ear, who giggled softly.
In response, Draco used his fingers and started drawing circles on the nape of Simone’s neck, at which Simone sighed in pleasure.
Noticing this, Hermione abandoned her food and took Viktor’s fork from him, feeding him the remaining of his food. She put her head together with his and was still giggling at his whisperings.
“Sit on his lap, why don’t you?” Draco suggested sardonically for only Hermione to hear.
Instead of getting angry, Hermione replied, “What a great idea!” And she did just that. She hopped onto Viktor’s lap, who was more than willing to let her do so, and continued feeding him. It was a bold move, especially for someone like Hermione, but she didn’t care.
Not that Viktor minded. The Bulgarian looked like he had just won the lottery.
“You have become very varm, Herm-own-ninny,” he beamed.
Draco clenched his jaw. Without thinking twice, he took his wand from pocket and with a simple flick, he caused Hermione to jab the fork she was aiming for Viktor’s mouth onto his nose.
Viktor yelped with pain and Hermione looked stricken with horror.
“I'm so sorry, Viktor!” she gasped, dropping the fork onto the table as it were burning hot. “I meant to put the meat in your mouth, but I don’t how I…”
Viktor waved away her apology. “It is quite all right, Herm-own-ninny,” he said, sounding nasal because his hand was covering his nose. “I am thinking your aiming is not very good from a near distance. Maybe you should sit on the seat again.”
Nodding dumbly, Hermione clambered back onto her original place and watched apologetically as her date fixed his bleeding nose. She had no idea how that accident had happened. She was so sure the fork with the piece of meat on it was heading for Viktor’s mouth, but then how did she end up stabbing his nose? It almost felt like some invisible hand had made her do it…
The quiet snickering beside her answered Hermione’s question. Draco Malfoy.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she asked, “Did you do that?” Her voice was soft yet there was no mistaking the menace in it.
“I haven’t the faintest clue what you're talking about,” Draco whispered back, faking innocence.
“The devil you don’t,” Hermione growled.
And the main course resumed as such. It was clash of the Heads into which Simone and Viktor had been dragged.
The waiter arrived at their table promptly after they were done with dinner. He gave them an amused look as he started to clear the plates with his wand. It was quite a scene really.
Hermione was snuggled against Viktor as closely as her body allowed it, while Draco practically had Simone crushed next to him, making it look like he and Hermione were being magically repelled from each other.
“Dessert for any one of you?” the waiter asked, averting his eyes from the two couples.
“What is your selection like?” Viktor inquired.
The waiter narrated the wide variety of desserts the restaurant offered. After taking their orders, he left them alone, albeit a little reluctantly as he would have liked to stay around and find out what exactly was going on with the two couples.
“So Viktor, how is it like, playing Quidditch for your country?” Simone asked offhandedly, apparently seeking to make small talk to ease the obvious tension in the air.
Viktor considered the question. “It makes me feel very proud that I can represent my country in the most popular game among vizards. The…” He halted briefly, as though searching for the right word. “…excitement I feel when I am playing in front of my countrymen is indescribable. It is humbling and also satisfying.”
Hermione beamed at Viktor’s answer. She truly appreciated the fact that he never let his status get to his head. “You're a wonderful player, Viktor. Probably one of the best on the world.”
“I am not very good, Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor seemed embarrassed by her praise. “I am only trying my best.”
Laughing at his modesty, she moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Well to me, you are the best.”
“I disagree actually,” Draco voiced. “I think the Marques Rubén is the best in the business,” he said, referring to the French Seeker.
Hermione could not believe Draco’s tactlessness. She knew he had made that remark intentionally.
And admittedly, Draco had done it purposely, because truth be told, he did not care much about Marques Rubén, since he was an avid supporter of Viktor Krum himself. However, he had no idea what made him bring up the French player. He did not feel like confessing to the Bulgarian Seeker that he, Viktor, was indeed the best.
Viktor nodded his head thoughtfully, not looking the least bit offended. “Yes, yes, Rubén is an exceptional player,” he agreed, his tone amiable. “His style of play is very different, very unique. He vood be considered vorld-class to me.”
“He most certainly is!” Draco went on complimenting. “Your skill is nothing” Ow!” He was rendered unable to complete his sentence due to the hard kick in the shin he had received from Hermione.
“What happened, Drakey-poo?” Simone asked, her eyes wide with concern.
Draco glared at Hermione, ignoring Simone. “What did you do that for, Granger?!”
“Because you were being an insensitive prat,” Hermione replied matter-of-factly.
“Herm-own-ninny, it is really all right. I don’t mind…”
“Ha! See? If he doesn’t mind, what’s your problem?!” Draco splattered, rubbing his bruised shin.
“Oh Drakey-poo, let me massage it for you…”
“Viktor is just being nice!” Hermione rested her hands on her hips and gritted her teeth upon seeing Simone kneading Draco’s shin. “Do you want me to even it out for you? I could give you another kick, then maybe Simone here can massage it for you as well!”
Before the argument could escalate into something else, a young witch wearing a crimson dress approached their table, carrying in her arm a basket filled with multicolored roses. Initially, she seemed a bit puzzled to see Draco’s leg propped up on the seat being massaged by Simone, but she recovered quickly.
“Flowers for the lady, sir?” she asked Viktor, gesturing at her basket. “Two Galleons for one.”
“No, thank you, miss,” Viktor declined politely. “I have my own.”
Hermione looked at him inquisitively, her anger gone.
“I vanted to give it to you before, Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor said sheepishly, “but I vas forgetful.”
Retrieving something from his pocket, Viktor held out his palm, and Hermione saw a single, red rose petal on it. She frowned, finding it odd that he was offering her one petal. Normally, people gave a whole rose.
Perhaps it’s some sort of Bulgarian custom, she concluded, trying to think of all those books she read on Bulgarian culture.
However, before she could reach forward and take the petal, Viktor took out his wand, tapping the petal twice with it. Immediately, the sole petal transformed into a whole bouquet of beautiful red roses.
“Oh Viktor, they’re beautiful!” Hermione gushed, taking the bouquet from him. She gave him a small peck on the cheek.
“Not as beautiful as you, Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor told her, a wide smile settling on his face.
“You're so sweet,” Hermione blushed. “Thank you.”
But Viktor was not quite done. “I have something else for you as vell,” he informed her. “It vood be better for me to give it now.”
“Something else?”
The Bulgarian reached for pocket and from it produced a velvet box.
For a mere second, Draco thought Viktor was going to propose to Hermione. Then he realized that he was being ridiculous.
Instead, Viktor opened the box to reveal two simple diamond earrings and Hermione gasped audibly. “For you,” he told Hermione, handing her the box. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Viktor, thank you! You outdid yourself!” Hermione sighed, sneaking a glimpse at Draco, who acted as if he was interested in everything else around him except her and Viktor.
Then, Hermione did something that was daring even for her. She leaned over and kissed Viktor on his lips! She was not entirely sure why she did it, or if she wanted to do, but she knew she had to.
It was a soft, harmless peck though, nothing too raunchy or tongue-involving, but the effect it had on Draco was quite something.
Ensuring that Simone and the flower girl were not looking (their eyes were transfixed on the couple), Draco grasped his wand, using it to tip Viktor’s Firewhiskey onto his pants. After that, he quickly put it away, acting like he had not done anything.
The sensation of cold liquid seeping through the material of his trousers made Viktor break the kiss abruptly and gasp.
“Would you look at that!” Draco exclaimed, his eyes enlarging in mock surprise. “Your drink… Got your pants wet! Here, let me help you with that.”
Whipping out his wand again, he pointed it at the spot on Viktor’s pants and mumbled a spell. However, instead of drying the patch, Viktor’s trousers caught fire.
“Aaah!” Viktor yelled, hastily jumping up from his seat. He was slapping the flames, trying urgently to put it out.
“Merlin! How did that happen?” Draco pretended to be horrified. “Wait, I know the counter spell!”
Hermione looked like she was about to intervene, but Draco gave her no chance and quickly hit Viktor with another spell.
This time, Draco’s wand started emitting long streams of frosty pink cream and the Seeker got squirted head to toe with it. By the time Draco pulled his wand away, Viktor looked like a large pink Abominable Snowman. Wiping the cream off his eyes, he glared at the Head boy.
“At least the fire’s out,” Draco told him nonchalantly. “I do know another spell that””
Hermione threw daggers in his direction, looking like she was ready to murder him if he tried anything else.
The waiter then arrived with their dessert. He eyed Viktor with curiosity, looking absolutely baffled. You couldn’t blame him. One of the greatest Seekers in the world was standing there, submerged in baby pink frosting. It was quite a sight.
“Erm, may I help you with anything, sir?” he asked, setting the dessert plates down on the table.
“No, I am all right,” Viktor assured the waiter in a low growl, and the waiter took his cue to leave.
It took Viktor one easy incantation to clear the cream off, after which he excused himself to use the Men’s room.
“You better hope your date isn’t running away, Granger,” Draco said in a soft voice after Viktor left.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione scowled. “I know you did that on purpose.”
“I’ll take the lot!” Draco exclaimed at the crimson-dressed witch, turning away from Hermione.
The young, flower-selling witch, who had been looking rather dazed, jumped at the sound of Draco’s voice. “The lot, sir?” she asked, staring at him.
“Yes, the lot of flowers you have there,” Draco confirmed. He placed his arm around Simone’s shoulders and pulled her close. “For my lady.”
Simone fidgeted uneasily in her seat. “Draco, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I””
“Hush,” Draco silenced her. “Nothing but the best for you. Now, how many flowers do you have there?”
The witch counted. “Thirty, sir.”
“Give me all thirty then,” Draco said.
“No, Draco, you don’t understand…”
“That would make sixty Galleons, am I correct?” Draco ignored Simone.
“Yes, sir,” the witch replied, taking the roses out of her basket. She used her wand to produce a ribbon, which she then used to tie around the whole bunch. “Here you go.”
Simone seemed rather uncomfortable as the flower girl passed the roses across her to Draco. In fact, she almost looked scared.
Draco gave the witch seventy Galleons. “Keep the change,” he said haughtily.
The witch glowed. “Thank you, sir,” she squeaked, before hurrying off, just as Viktor returned from the toilet.
“He bought all the roses for her?” Viktor inquired after sitting down.
“Yes, all thirty,” Hermione answered, trying but failing to sound casual.
“For you, Simone,” Draco said huskily as he handed her the flowers, visibly all prepared to accept a huge kiss from her.
To his utter surprise, Simone looked terrified of the bouquet in his hand. “I'm allergic to roses, Draco,” she wheezed, as calmly as she possibly could. She appeared to be fighting the impulse to make a mad dash out of the restaurant and never turn back.
Not laughing at Draco’s reaction proved to be quite a task for Hermione. His expressions went as such: First, he looked completely bewildered at Simone’s reaction. Then his face went pink with embarrassment and irritation. Finally, he looked like he would strangle his date with his bare hands.
Taking a deep breath, he thrust the roses into Hermione’s hands. “Here, you have them,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Burn them, eat them or make potpourri if you like. I don’t care.”
“Aww, don’t be so resentful about it,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “This is what you get when you don’t know the person you're dating well enough.” She smiled victoriously and leaned into Viktor.
Scowling, Draco turned back to Simone, who was trying to regain her composure.
“Oh Drakey-poo, I hope you aren’t too upset about the roses,” she purred once she had calmed herself. She stroked his arm tenderly, her eyes twinkling. “I have something for you to make up for it.”
Draco’s eyes lit up. “You do?”
Smiling secretively, Simone reached into the pocket of her miniskirt and retrieved a small indigo pouch. She dangled it in front of Draco’s face before handing it to him. “I do hope you like it,” she cooed.
Draco winked at her. “I'm sure I will.” He opened the pouch and turned it upside-down on his palm. From within dropped out a chunky, metallic men’s bracelet.
“Merlin Simone,” he grinned charmingly, putting it on at once, “it’s marvelous!”
“You like it?”
“I adore it, Simone.”
The Ravenclaw girl smiled jubilantly.
“Well, seeing how you put in so much effort to get me a gift,” Draco drawled silkily, “I thought I might give you something in return.”
Simone’s eyes shone with eagerness. “Really? What?”
For the shortest time, Draco’s eyes settled on Hermione, but he promptly looked away.
“This.”
And the next moment, Draco had Simone locked by the lips. He was kissing her like there was no tomorrow, and believe me, this snog was nothing like the one Hermione and Viktor shared; there was not a shard of innocence involved here, none at all. Their hands were everywhere on each other, and there was no room for air to pass through them.
As Hermione watched Simone play tonsil hockey with Draco, she resisted grabbing Viktor and snogging him again (and maybe doing a few other things) there and then.
I'm not competing with Malfoy for anything, she told herself, inhaling and exhaling at intervals in attempt to cool down. This is not a competition.
The hell it wasn’t.
The first instinct in Hermione was to reach for her wand and do something to the effect of setting Simone’s hair on fire or turning her skin a brilliant purple. If Draco could play dirty, then so could she.
To her dismay, Hermione realized that she had left her wand in the pocket of her jacket, which was currently hanging from the coat rack upfront. She considered going to the entrance to retrieve it, but that would require taking Draco along. And she highly doubted that he would skip with joy at the prospect of doing so and help her get it immediately since he was fully aware of the fact that Hermione could do wonders with her wand. Besides, he was too preoccupied at the moment.
Hermione then decided that maybe she did not need her wand at all. Maybe she could do this the conventional way, like by kicking Draco in the shin. Again.
However, after several kicks, even that had no effect on ceasing the kissing session. Draco had merely stopped momentarily, adjusted his position on the seat and resumed making out with Simone.
“Would you two stop it already?! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is for me and Viktor?” Hermione screeched. Unfortunately, her statement fell on deaf ears. Moreover, they seemed to be going for it more so than before.
Sulking and defeated, Hermione called the waiter over to their table and placed an order for another Rockvodka-soda. Viktor looked at her worriedly.
“Another von, Herm-own-ninny?” he asked as the waiter set the glass down in front of her.
Hermione took a big gulp of her drink. “Yes, Viktor,” she said, glaring at Draco and Simone, who still had their faces attached to each other by some unfathomable magnetic force. She drank deeply again. “Another one.”
Author's Note:I know most of you want to pelt me with tomatoes or maybe even anvils, but believe me, I didn't keep you guys in suspense for such a long time on purpose- I had internet problems. I nearly cried from trying to fix the problem because I was planning to have 2 or 3 whole chapters before the queue closes, but now...*sigh*
I'm really sorry you all. I'm just praying by some miracle this one gets validated fast so maybe I can get another chapter up before the 21st. Enjoy!