Question: Hi ! Ahah, the good ole prompt list. 12 ! “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” - Dramione :D
Thanks for the ask! @maimaktes
Prompt 12: “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself!” Dramione
Word count: 999 (I’m really proud of this number.)
Draco thought he had outgrown the desire to strangle Muggleborns to death. It turned out that he was right and wrong. It wasn’t all Muggleborns. It was one in particular.
This one. Hermione Granger, bane of his existence, thorn in his side, plank in his eye, all around infuriating woman.
“Contrary to what you may think,” he said through teeth gritted so hard that he’d be chewing with stumps for molars tomorrow, “I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”
It was entirely too much to hope that his short response would shut her up. All she did was tilt her head to the side to regard him in a way that was too sceptical to be flattering. “Well, it’s not looking as though you can. Honestly, Malfoy, if you’re so frightened of Muggles, then I just don’t think that you’re the right person for this project.“
Draco struggled to keep his ire in check. Despite being the most qualified within the foreign diplomacy program, she was completely incapable of reading between the lines.
“You were so scared the first time we went into Muggle Paris,” she continued, utterly unaware of his simmering silence. “You grabbed ahold of my hand.”
Draco wanted to bang his head against the wall.
“And you pulled me back from an airplane flying overhead, even though it was thousands of kilometres away.” She was ticking off the points on her fingers, the maddening minx. “And then you held onto me like I was your security blanket. You were even shivering. In fear,” she emphasised, as though he was having a hard time understanding her points without italics.
Ah, yes. In addition to behaving as though he were a child, she had taken to talking to him as though he were a dunce.
“And then when we were booking into the hotel, you rejected the first reservation because they didn’t have rooms next to each other. Then you opted for the last room in this hotel when the Presidential Suite is completely beyond our budget.” She sighed, as though she had to deal with someone incomprehensible. “Muggles aren’t that scary. Or maybe we need someone to replace you on the team. Maybe Cormac? But he’s also a Pureblood, and that’s proven to be an unmitigated disaster so far…” she trailed off, mumbling to herself. Her eyes had absently flickered up to the ceiling, as though she were racking her brain someone to replace him. “Honestly, why did you volunteer for this program if you can’t even stand to be around Muggles?”
He inhaled deeply, running one hand through his hair. “Just so—just so we’re clear, what exactly did you think I said about going on this trip?”
Her brow furrowed in thought. “Er—you said that you needed my help in guiding you around Muggles. That you were afraid of them. And that you didn’t want an international incident.”
He pressed his fingers to the center of his forehead for a moment. A deep breath for patience turned into five. His left eye was even beginning to twitch. “Alright, stop. You must have terribly selective hearing because what I actually said was that I’d love it if you could show me around your world. That I wanted to fit into your life. And that I wanted this opportunity to show you how I’ve changed.”
She blinked owlishly up at him. "That’s what I just said. But your actions have shown me that you clearly can’t be around Muggles without freaking out.” The expression on her face was concerned and a bit sad. “Maybe—it’s just too sudden?”
She had been standing in front of him, but now she moved away and toyed with a pen on the table. She didn’t look at him, as though she were distancing herself from him already. For no good reason at all.
He had had enough.
“I was trying to woo you in the most romantic city in the world!” The words were ripped out of Draco in the most unromantic, forthright manner that ever a declaration was uttered in Paris.
“Woo—?” Her lashes fluttered. "Me?” The syllable came out on a high-pitched squeak.
“Obviously,” he said in a stiff drawl that would have made Professor Snape proud. Suddenly, he felt exactly like the dunce that she was treating him. Had he somehow misread the signs back when they were preparing for this trip and the year before that when they had bantered so flirtatiously with one another? He had misread everything and now she thought he was a simpleton who saw murdering Muggles behind every lamppost.
“Oh,” she said and paused. She shifted awkwardly as he looked out the window, wondering why no parliament of owls could conveniently choose this time to batter down the glass to bury him in parchment. When he looked back at her, she was tucking a stray piece of curl behind her ear. “Um. I mean—really?” she said on a awkward laugh before launching into a torrent of speech. “So you aren’t really afraid of Muggles and the cars and everything? Because I know they can be a bit much and—”
The adorable flush on her cheeks decided him. He knew what it meant, had watched for it every time he had teased her back in their offices. That was when he should have made his move instead of waiting for the perfect time when they would be abroad and away. Note to self: stop planning and go for the moment.
“So, wait, does that mean—”
She got no further because that was when he pounced, crossing the distance between them. He clasped one arm around her waist, cupped her jaw with the other hand, and kissed her. Long, lingering, and full of pent-up desire—he let her have it all.
“Oh,” she said when he finally lifted his head. His eyes tracked the movement of her wet, pouty lips.
“Yes, oh,” he said before bending his head to kiss her some more.