Blinding State of Affairs

Chapter Eighteen

Hermione Granger was a liar. She didn't know that she was going to be handed so many drinks when the rest of her guests arrived, but she drank them. Now, she was just beyond tipsy and probably shouldn't be in heels. They were all walking down to the tented tables, and she was wobbling on hers rather shamefully.

Draco was walking next to her and listening to her gait. "Are your feet sore?"

She giggled loudly. "No, I can't walk in these things with drink in me," she declared with a snort.

He pulled her to one of the pathways next to the main walkway and found a bench. Draco's hands were on her shoulders as he sat her down. "Alright, Granger. Sit down, and I will take them off for you."

"Did you know that high heels were popularized in the 1500's?" she asked as he bent down in front of her.

"No I did not," he replied as he lifted her leg.

She huffed. "I don't usually let someone touch my feet. They look horrible," Hermione grumbled as his fingers ran over her calf.

He did not answer her as his fingers caressed her skin and found the latch. Draco hemmed as he released her foot. "One down," he told her.

"Your hands a very nimble, you know that?" she inquired.

His hands found her other leg and took more time running his fingers over her calf. She sighed, and he felt her lean back a bit. "Draco, you make shoe removal sinful." He found the buckle, and she sighed as the shoe fell away. "Thank you; I can actually walk now."

Draco erected from the ground after grabbing his cane and offered his hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. "Feeling woozy still?" he asked gently.

"No, thank you. I will be glad to get some food in my stomach." She declared.

"Granger, can I do something unusual?" He questioned as she shifted on her feet.

"What is it?"

"Can I touch your face?" he requested.

"Oh, well- yes?" her voice sounded unsure, and he snorted.

"Let's go, Granger," he ordered and pivoted to leave.

Her hand caressed his arm. "No, it's alright," she told him, and he turned to her.

Hermione held still as Draco's hand touched her face. It was soft and explorative as his fingertips traced her hairline, running over her brows, and even his thumb grazed her painted lips. They parted for him, and he felt the heat coming from her cheeks. He couldn't tell if she was just warm from her drinking or if she was enchanted by his touch. At least until he heard the soft whimper, that she released when his fingers touched her neck.

"Hermione, would you allow me to kiss the birthday girl?" he whispered gently.

Instead of answering, she closed the distance between them. Draco bent down just enough to feel her soft breath from her mouth. He found her lips with his and discovered the sinful torture that was her. His brain shot with color, and he could feel his pulse thrum in his neck. Draco had to call on every last resolve to pull away from her when he did.

"You are beautiful," he told her and stepped from her. "Now, let's get you some food."

They walked together in silence, and he did not see what she had the displeasure to view. Hermione was walking next to him and avoiding the redhead who had her hands on her hips. "So, was that a birthday kiss or a preemptive snog?" Ginny snapped as they walked back on the stone pathway.

Draco tilted his head with a smile. "A birthday kiss. I promise, Ginevra if I were to snog her, we would not be going to get dinner right now."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gazed over at the Potter. Ginny mouthed something. 'What are you doing?' and the curly-haired witch shrugged and replied, 'I don't know!'