A/N: The first bit in italics is directly from the HBP. I wanted the beginning to capture what happened in the book, but felt like if I wrote it myself, the scene would be too close and would border plagiarism, so I copied it word from word (which sounds worse, actually haha) but with full acknowledgement that the combination of words is not mine and belong solely to JKR, much like the beautiful characters we see here, without which we would not have such glorious fanfiction to get us through our days.
Now, on with the story…
"Out," he said sharply. "Get out!"
Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin slammed the door behind her and put up the CLOSED sign.
"Ah well," said Ron, throwing the cloak back over Hermione. "Worth a try, but you were a bit obvious -"
"Well, next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!" she snapped. Ron and Hermione bickered all the way back to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, where they were forced to stop so that they could dodge undetected around a very anxious-looking Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid, who had clearly noticed their absence. Once in the shop, Harry whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, hid it in his bag, and joined in with the other two when they insisted, in answer to Mrs. Weasley's accusations, that they had been in the back room all along, and that she could not have looked properly.
While Mrs. Weasley continued to scold Ron, and the twins continued to supply Harry with more gifts of gratitude, Hermione snuck out again for some fresh air. She stepped around the side of the building, not far from the entrance, only enough to remain out of sight.
She could kick herself. So foolish, believing she could trick Borgin into unwittingly betraying Malfoy. There was no doubt that his behaviour was peculiar, but she wouldn’t allow her imagination to run wild like Harry so often did. She needed to find out what he was up to before he did anything bad or before her friends did anything idiotic.
“Can’t say that necklace would look all that nice on me, Granger.” She whipped around and stood face to face with the boy in question. Nose to nose, almost. It was the closest they had been to each other in years. Possibly closer than they had ever been, barring the 3 seconds it took to sock him that one glorious time in their third year. “Perhaps on that pretty little neck of yours though.”
His middle finger delicately traced a line down the left side of her throat. She snapped out of her shock once he reached the collar of her shirt. "Is that a threat, Malfoy?" as spat, knocking his hand away from her. She knew which necklace he meant. Goblin-wrought bronze, too many fire opals to count at a quick glance. Stunning. Expensive. Deadly.
"Threat? I was complimenting you. I think it would be a good look for you."
"What, being dead?" She gawked at him. It was beyond her how anyone could be so cruel. How anyone could hate someone else for simply existing. "Suppose that's really nothing new though, I shouldn't be surprised. It's not the first time you've wanted me dead."
"That's not fair. I never said-"
"You literally did! Second year."
“Fine.” The blond prat had the audacity to roll his eyes as though they were arguing whether he nicked an apple from the kitchens, or something equally insignificant. Not something like wishing death upon another human being. “But that isn’t what I meant this time. Merlin! You’re paranoid.”
“Paranoid?” she shrieked. “It isn’t paranoia if it’s true!”
“I wasn’t threatening you! I was trying to give you a compliment, you bint!”
“Less than an hour ago, you asked who gave me this black eye so you could send flowers as a thank you.”
“I don’t recall saying anything about them being ‘thank you’ flowers,” he replied smoothly. “I will have you know, I intended on sending Devil’s Snare. Or perhaps something poisonous. Any suggestions?”
“For poison? Yea, there’s a few you could try.”
“Clever girl.” He smiled at her, and it only fueled her rage when her body reacted instinctively and against all reason. “It’s gone,” the stupid, handsome prat remarked.
“What’s gone?”
“Your black eye.” She swatted away his hand again as he reached up to touch her. “How’d you get it anyway?”
“Unfinished Weasley product.”
“Those two are a dangerous lot.”
“Those two are dangerous? I’m sorry, and what were you doing in Borgin and Burkes?”
“Searching for a gift. You see, I’m trying to impress this bird, but she’s a tough one. Can’t imagine she’d be impressed with my wealth and impeccable bloodline. She’s different. Really picky, total swot.”
“Hilarious.”
“No, she’s not that funny. But what she lacks in humour and good looks, she makes up for in brilliance and hair.”
She sent him a glare of scathing proportions, and tried stepping around him when he blocked her path. “What do you want, Malfoy?”
He gave her a meaningful look. “Something I can’t have, unfortunately.” Her eyes widened. She knew he wasn’t being serious - despite sounding very serious - but it was the most blatant anyone had ever been while flirting with her. “It’s very strange for me. Normally, when I want something, I take it… but I fear this would be taken from me, and that would be far worse.”
She opened her mouth, though she hadn’t a clue what to say. Thankfully, Harry’s voice rounded the corner, carrying through his concern and saving her from having to respond. “Coming, Harry!” she shouted back. She expected the present company to move from her path as she started toward the main street, but he only stood there, forcing her to brush against him on her way out.
More than once over the first few months of school, Hermione caught Malfoy observing her. It only appeared malicious when Harry and Ron were around, but even then it would change as soon as they were otherwise distracted. He never approached her though, never said anything. In fact, he kept more to himself this year than ever before. Even though he kept his distance from the trio, it was nearly impossible to keep her mind from thinking about him, though that was hardly her fault. Harry wouldn’t shut up about him, especially after the incident with Katie.
Of course, that wasn’t why she was thinking about him as she stomped down toward the dungeons. Christmas was less than a week away, but already Hermione received one present. There wasn’t a note attached to the flat, square box so she opened it cautiously, and rightfully so. She recognised the contents and identified the sender immediately.
Inside was the fire opal necklace. She had jumped back in horror, having seen how the Peruvian blue opal necklace affected Katie. Harry had said that he had seen that very necklace at Borgin and Burkes years ago, just as she knew this one had been. If it was even half as dangerous as the one that sent Katie to St Mungos, she could be dead within seconds of touching it. She remembered the expressions on Professor McGonogall and Professor Snape’s faces when they were inspecting the cursed jewellery. To strike that much fear into the two of the most powerful beings she knew, well… she wasn’t going to take any chances. Not many, at least.
She should have said something to Harry and Ron, but she didn't. She should have turned it over to one of the professors, but she didn’t. It was more than the fact that she now possessed a powerful and lethal artefact. It backed Harry’s belief that the necklace given to Katie was from the troubled Slytherin boy. Circumstantially. She didn’t want to believe it though. Not because she cared for him, or thought him good… but she didn’t think him evil. Not evil enough to knowingly cause the damage that had been done recently.
His voice sounded from around the corner along with a few others. Right when the group started to move, she charmed his bag to rip, causing the contents to scatter across the floor. Unlike what she would have expected from her Gryffindor friends, his Slytherin housemates did not even consider helping him as they strolled away. Not that he needed help. He was quick to repair the rip and skillfully summoned the fallen items.
She rushed toward him so as to not miss her opportunity to speak to him alone. "Was it you?" she blurted out unceremoniously.
He deigned her with a hurried once over, then turned back to continue repacking his books, quills and ink bottles. "What do you mean, Granger?"
"Why did you give me the necklace?"
"Was ripping my bag an appropriate way to repay me for such a lovely and thoughtful gift?"
"I didn't rip your bag," she quickly denied as he trotted away from her.
Not so much as glancing over his shoulder, he replied, "Yes, you did."
"Well, maybe I did. And maybe that is appropriate seeing as how that necklace is cursed. You could have killed me!"
“It isn’t cursed, Granger.”
“Yes, it is! We both know where you bought it.”
“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.” He finally stopped trying to walk away and turned to face her. “I had it scrubbed. You can have McGonagall and Flitwick check it if you need to.”
“Why? So they can accidentally touch it and be affected? I will not be made an accomplice.”
“Salazar sake! Bring it to Snape then! It isn’t cursed.”
“Why would you think I’d be willing to risk his life more than another’s?” It was awfully cruel of him to think her capable of risking anyone’s life at all. Though that wasn’t the point, if he was being honest. And he did seem somewhat genuine, despite all logic telling her he must be lying. “It’s really not cursed?”
“Yes, really. This is what I’m talking about. So paranoid.”
“Then… then you need to take it back.”
“What! Why? Would you have preferred it to still be deadly? I didn’t realise you got down like that, Granger. Kind of hot.” His roaming eyes sent chills down her spine. Perhaps it was the damp dungeon air.
Yea. Definitely the air.
"That necklace was one and a half thousand galleons, Malfoy. If it were deadly, I would hold on to it so that no one else could get hurt. However, if it truly isn’t cursed anymore, then it’s an astonishingly expensive gift that I simply cannot accept.”
“Call it retribution.”
“An apology would be far less expensive.”
“I think I owe you more than an apology.” He stepped closer to her, and foolishly, she stepped back.
“Wha-what do you think you’re doing?”
“Would you forgive me? If I told you I was sorry?”
“Y-yes. If I thought you meant it, yes, I would.” Before she noticed, he had backed her fully into a corner. “Now stop!”
He halted his movements so abruptly, she questioned if she somehow magically compelled him to comply with her demand. But she hadn’t. He simply listened to her.
“I hope you accept my gift.”
She nodded, too uncomfortable with his close proximity to speak.
⁂
“Will you wear it for me, Granger?” She jumped at his sudden appearance behind her. “When you go to the party tonight with that twat?”
“I’m not going with Ron,” she sighed.
“Funny how you thought I was referring to Weasley,” he chuckled. “I’m well aware of who your date is.”
Her body tensed when she felt him move closer. “How?” If it weren’t for the back of the chair, she was certain she would have felt him up against her. With his hands placed by each of her arms, she was trapped between him and the table.
“You’ll wear it, won’t you?” Her question was left unanswered when he asked his again. “Consider it a show of gratitude for buying you such a nice gift.”
“A show of gratitude? For a gift I didn’t even want?”
“Don’t be unappreciative.”
“Don’t be manipulative.” Not wanting him to see how uncomfortable she felt, she remained facing forward, peering down at her book. “Why should I?” She couldn’t imagine why he would genuinely want her to wear the necklace if it wasn’t cursed.
“I want to know that you’re thinking of me while you’re on the arm of someone else,” he whispered.
This caused her chest to tighten. “You’re not even invited. You won’t be there.” She thought it was wiser to ignore the strange sensation in her lower abdomen and focus on controlling her erratic breathing.
“I’ll be sure to make an appearance… But I expect to see my reward for making such an effort.”
She did see him at the party, though only briefly. He was hauled in by Filch, and out by Professor Snape not minutes later. Unfortunately, it was soon after that her date caught up with her. Not able to take much more, once it was no longer impolite to leave, Hermione slinked her way out of the party and made for the tower. She didn’t make it very far though when he found her again.
“Slippery little minx,” said the slimy voice behind her. His arms wrapped around her, stopping her from getting away.
“Cormac, stop!”
“Come on, Granger.” He shoved her against the wall and started groping her hungrily, but with a sweaty and amateur clumsiness that could later only be described as icky. “I’ll make it good for the both of us, I promise.”
“I said stop!” She slapped him, and he returned the act in kind. “Ow! Cormac, you’re hurting me.” His already tight hold on her grew stronger, surely leaving marks down her arms. “I mean it, Cormac, stop it,” she sobbed, becoming more and more afraid that he wouldn’t.
Then, as if instantly changing his mind, her aggressive mistake in company apologised for his untoward behaviour and left. His odd mannerisms reminded her of something, but she couldn’t put a name to it. Not a confundus charm, she knew, but it was definitely something magical.
When Malfoy stepped from the shadows, Hermione was confused by the mixture of nerves and comfort, because she was nowhere near trusting him, yet she knew he had something to do with what just happened. Which is when it dawned on her. She realised why Cormac’s expression felt familiar. “You shouldn’t have done that.” She recognised the glassy-eye and vacant stare. They had all seen and felt the effects of the Imperius Curse two years before.
“Should I allow him to continue then?” He gestured down the direction in which Cormac had left, as if offering to go bring him back.
“Well, n-no, but… you could get in trouble for what you did.” He didn’t respond verbally, only stepping close to her and smiling softly. Taking her arms gently in his hands, he twisted them enough to survey what damage Cormac might have done, which seemed very minimal. “Ehm, thank you.”
Then, catching Hermione by complete surprise, doing the one thing she absolutely never would have expected him to do, he kissed her cheek. It was delicate. Tender. Sweet.
When she turned from him slightly, she inadvertently bore her neck to him. “I knew it would look good on you,” he hummed. He dipped lower, nuzzling his nose into her. “It doesn’t exactly match your dress, but I won’t hold that against you.”
“Do you have any idea,” she panted due to an unfamiliar anxiety, “how difficult it is to find a dress that matches this absurd necklace?” It was nearly impossible for her to not squirm beneath his touch, which was equally welcomed and nerve-wracking.
“Oh, I love that you tried.” His lips caressed her skin, not quite kissing her this time, though tickling her greatly. The subtle sensation sent goosebumps across her body.
“Malfoy,” she whimpered, earning a more forceful application. One hand rested flat across her lower back, pulling her flush against him while the second moved her own arm to encircle his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“You look incredible.” He left a trail of kisses across her exposed skin. “I would love to see you in nothing but this necklace.”
“Draco,” she gasped in surprise. His hands tightened around her waist as he began sucking on the spot between her neck and her shoulder. “Malfoy, s-stop.” Her request was less confident than it had been with McLaggen, almost as though she didn’t quite mean it. Despite this, he leaned away to give her space to breathe. “Did you only save me from Cormac so that you could take his place?” Any sense of comfort fled the moment she registered what he could do to her. He was physically larger than her date, magically more talented, and apparently capable of performing at least one of the Unforgivable Curses - the one that could get her to do anything he wanted without struggle. She was a confident witch, but she knew that if he wanted something, she likely wouldn’t be able to stop him.
Worse was how close she allowed him to get to her. It took no effort at all. Her school bully bought her one pretty trinket and immediately she submitted to his request to wear it for him and allowed him to suck on the skin above where it lay. She felt a purchased woman.
“I stepped in because he didn’t stop when you told him to.”
“You cannot possibly be so gallant.” He did stop though, she noted. She had to fight off the Gryffindor oaf, yet this snake stopped as soon as she halfheartedly pleaded with him to.
“I might be mean-spirited, but I would never take advantage of a girl like that. Especially not you.”
“Wouldn’t want to sully yourself?” Her voice came through bitterly. It wasn’t as though she wanted him to want her. Because she didn’t. But she didn’t want him to not want her solely based on heritage.
“I wouldn’t want to sully you.” Their eyes met and she searched for deception, finding none. “Think you can make it back to the lion’s den without getting into any more trouble?” She nodded. “Good.” He leaned in hesitantly, continuing when she didn’t turn from him. He graced her cheek with one last chaste kiss. “You look beautiful, Granger. Thank you for wearing it for me.” He left her standing there, overwhelmed by his words, and more importantly, his actions.
Not knowing exactly why she did it, she called out to him. She rushed to him before he was fully turned back toward her, and not allowing herself to think, she kissed him fiercely. He spun them and pinned her to the nearest wall. Her dress rose up her legs as he palmed the back of her thigh, pulling it up over his hip. There was nothing sweaty, amateur or clumsy about his hands as they kneaded her flesh. And though she knew it might not be sensible, she was ready to accept what he had to offer her.
Then he stopped. Breathing heavily against her collarbone, he lowered her to the floor but did not completely remove himself from her space. When he kissed her again, it was more sensual and she knew he was cutting off whatever could have happened from transpiring.
“Why are you stopping?”
“Because you’ll regret going any further.” She was going to argue, going to tell him that she knew very well what she was agreeing to, but he interrupted her thoughts. “If not tomorrow, then certainly by the end of the year.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. One day you will be relieved to not have to remember me as a mistake you once made.”
The next morning, Hermione learned that Cormac was in the infirmary healing from severe frostbite after a late night swim in the lake. She wasn’t one for revenge nor for corporal punishment, but she would have been lying if she said she felt bad.
There came a day, several months later, when it dawned on her. The shock of Albus Dumbledore’s passing, of Severus Snape’s betrayal, and of the fake horcrux had passed. Hermione had been running through the events of that night and remembered that Harry described Draco’s role as he had seen it and that he disappeared with the death eaters. That’s when she remembered his warning and knew what he meant. He had known what was to come and knew how devastated she might have been if someone she had been intimate with had been responsible for such heinous crimes. It was his gentlemanly consideration and Harry’s adamant belief that Draco wouldn’t have followed through with his task that allowed her to hold a modicum of hope that he was not completely lost.
Less than a year later, she witnessed the last bit of colour drain from his cheeks when he stepped into the room. His eyes found hers before his attention was brought to a disfigured Harry. Between the curses and the slow dragging sting of Bellatrix’s knife, Hermione saw the struggle in him. She saw the pain in his eyes. She saw his mother holding onto his wrist, keeping him from doing anything that might endanger them all.
Six months after that, he wouldn’t even look at her as she spoke at his trial. She kept trying to catch his eye, but he pointedly focused on anything other than her.
⁂
While attending a gala on the arm of a man that hardly piqued her interest, she kept her eyes peeled for a guest who was rumoured to make his first appearance at any public function since the war. It had been several years and she had heard he married the younger sister to one of their classmates, but she needed to see that for herself.
She had broken things off with Ron, having felt like their relationship lacked a certain passion she had only felt once before. Disappointingly, however, she soon found all other options to be so much worse. This night had been her last ditch effort to… well, she was exactly sure, though she knew it was not going to be with the simpleton following her around.
And there he was.
They made brief eye contact, but he turned away so quickly that she thought he had not recognised her. If it wasn’t for the subtle smirk and the light touch to his chest, she might have continued to believe so. It might have appeared to others like he was fiddling with his tie, but she knew what he meant. In the one fleeting second that he glanced her way, he noticed her choice of accessory and she knew what he was saying. So clearly she could hear his voice still. “I want to know that you’re thinking of me while you’re on the arm of someone else.” And she was.
She couldn’t so much as think of the necklace and not think of him too. She never wore it while with Ron, knowing how disrespectful it was to think of one man when calling another her boyfriend. She wasn’t with Ron though, and as cruel as it might have been, she had no loyalty to this evening’s date. Or, at least she wouldn’t once the evening concluded.
Seeing his arm wrapped around another woman only encouraged her to seek the same, but not with dullard she was with tonight. She sought out Ron before the end of the party and told him that they should give it another go. They had only broken up because he wanted to marry and she wasn’t ready to commit to him when there was still another possibility. He was a good man and would make a good husband. There was no reason left for her to delay the inevitable. Shortly after that night, they married, and within a year they had their first child.
Moving forward, Ron consistently commented on how beautiful she was the night they got back together, and how she should wear that necklace whenever she could in honour of their reunion. She wanted to tell him no, but couldn’t exactly explain why. Or, she didn’t want to. He’d force her to dispose of it and she couldn’t bring herself to risk it. So, with Ron’s encouragement, the beautiful adornment became a staple for every major event. Designers – Madam Malkin’s apprentice, Pansy Parkinson, in particular – made a point of designing dresses specifically to complement the piece at every opportunity. She questioned why after the third time she was approached by her former rival with options but never asked.
She read that his wife had died not long after giving birth to their son. It broke her heart. After everything he had suffered, a simple life with a loving family was the least he deserved. She wanted to reach out and offer to help in any way, but it felt wrong. Or she was too scared to try.
Four years later, only a few months after their son’s first birthday, Ron and Hermione split for good. They had intended on doing so years ago, but when they found out she was pregnant again, they tried to make it work one last time. Their divorce might have been more cordial had they followed through with it when they first discussed separation, but they did their best to remain civil for the sake of their children. In some ways, he was still her best friend and she loved him, but, man, did he know how to get on her nerves.
After a year of being officially single, Hermione was not exactly ready to start dating around, but she was more than ready for, well, a little attention. It had been a rough few years and she deserved it in more ways than one. Tonight, in particular, was very trying for the witch. There had been several long months leading up to this moment and though there was cause for celebration, she was unable to enjoy the festivities. It was too hot inside and everyone kept wanting to talk to her. That was to be expected, of course, but tiring nonetheless. Needing a break, she stepped out onto the empty balcony and finally felt an iota of freedom in the crisp air.
She hadn’t seen him. Not in over a year, and that had been a fleeting moment from across the way. She had not spoken to him since the war, though not for a lack of trying. He always made a point of avoiding her, of communicating through either his secretary or her assistants if their businesses ever crossed. He was an avid supporter of her ventures and campaigns, but she couldn’t name one reason why because he refused to speak with her. The fact that she still thought about it was more than pathetic. It was almost to the extent of adultery while she was married, and now it was just plain sad as she stood there alone, thinking about a man who clearly did not want anything to do with her.
“Knowing that you’re thinking of me while on the arm of someone else might be the only thing that gets me through these nights.”
She whipped around frantically. “Draco!” Apparently, not as empty as she had thought. He stood off to the side, covered by the shadows. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” though she desperately hoped she might.
“How could I miss such a momentous occasion?”
“I, ehm, I’m not on the arm of anyone tonight.” They had probably moved on from that comment already, but she felt it necessary to clarify.
“Going stag to your own party?” This news seemed to please him greatly, though he hardly smiled in response. “I’m sure they’re all kicking themselves now for not asking. You look spectacular, Granger. Pansy’s truly outdone herself this time.”
“How did you know that this was her design?”
“It always is, isn’t it? I might have mentioned to her how much I enjoy seeing you in that unique necklace of yours, and how difficult you find it to match.” So, he did have something to do with it. That had to mean something. She hoped.
“Perhaps I should wear nothing but the necklace. If I recall, that was your intention.”
His eyes darkened and his features hardened. “Now I’m glad you aren’t on the arm of another. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“Why not?” she asked stiffly. She started it, but she hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t like her to blurt out overtly lewd comments, but he still made her so uncomfortable.
“You can’t blame a wizard for being disappointed if some other bloke gets to live out his fantasy. The idea that Weasley of all people has seen you in only my necklace-” His words cut off with a faint growl that dampened her already moist knickers.
“I always took it off first.” Jewellery came off before a dress always, but it was purposeful with this piece. It was silly, but it was true. Even she had never seen herself in only the necklace. She thought to look more than once, but couldn’t. That was for him only.
His eyes trailed over her body.
They were still standing so far from each other. Much farther than one would have expected for such a conversation, but he was clearly keeping his distance from her.
“Ron has the kids tonight.” She didn’t know what came over her. The most forward thing she had ever done was suggest that she and Ron try dating again, and here she was basically propositioning herself to Draco Malfoy.
His eyes found hers again and her knees buckled under the lustful stare.
Then it changed. He closed his eyes and she saw his desire fade into another expression altogether. One she had seen years ago. “Don’t be gallant. Please, not this time.”
“Granger,” he sighed in defeat.
“No. I’m no longer as innocent, and as far as I know, you have no plans to commit any crime in the near future so there is no need to save me from anything.”
“If not for your sake, then for mine.”
She didn’t understand. Once again, she was willingly offering herself to him, and once again he was turning her down with some vague non-reason. It was humiliating.
“I thought…” She stepped back, not that they had been close by any means. “I supposed I made false assumptions.” She removed the necklace and stormed up to him, thrusting it into his chest. For over a decade, she had worn it. For him. Stupidly thinking that he still wanted her to. That he still wanted her. In some strange way, she was secretly telling the world to whom she really belonged, yet evidently, he never wanted her.
“Granger-”
“No! Why give it to me in the first place? I don’t understand anything about that night if you didn’t -” Maybe he did want her at first. He had been too raw, too sweet to not have cared for her that night during their 6th year, but she knew all too well that feelings could change. “If you didn’t want me, what was with all of the knowing, flirtatious glances over the years? Why manipulate me into wearing this for you? Just to hold some power over me? To know that you can still mess with my feelings? Congratulations, Malfoy. Well played. After all these years you still know how to hit me where it hurts.”
“You misunderstand. It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s that I don’t want to give you up.” He took two steps forward, she took three steps back, but he didn’t relent. “I wouldn’t be able to. I’d lock you in my manor, steal all of your clothes for fear that you might walk out otherwise.” Eventually, she stopped moving and allowed him to approach. “But considering you are about to become the next Minister for Magic, that might be frowned upon, so please, do not ask this of me.” He tucked a rebellious curl behind her ear and cupped her cheek. She had never seen him so vulnerable. “I’m not trying to mess with your feelings. For once, I’m trying to spare mine… So please, allow me my fantasy and keep it.” He gently placed the heavy collection of stones back in her hands. “It’s yours. It's always been yours.” He might have been referring to his heart, the way he was pouring out his soul to her. “Even if you never wear it again, I only want you to have it.”
“But that's all I want too, Draco.”
“You’re going to be the Minister, Granger. You cannot be seen with me.”
“I’m about to be the Minister, Malfoy. I can do as I damn well please. Besides, you’ve more than redeemed yourself in the eyes of the public, not that I have ever cared what they thought.”
“I don’t think you understand.”
She scoffed. “What is it that I don’t understand this time?”
“They won’t want a minister who dates around casually. Serious relationships only, especially as a woman. Otherwise you will be subjected to unnecessary scrutiny.”
“And that’s not what you want.”
“I can see you’re not listening... That’s exactly what I want, love. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me, but Rowena knows you-” Whatever he was saying was cut off by a bruising kiss, similar to the first they shared years ago. “Is that a yes?”
“To marrying you?” she cackled. “Of course not, you complete knob. But that is a yes to a serious relationship, starting with your gift.”
“And what gift would that be?”
She wrapped the necklace around her neck and gave him a cheeky smile. “Help me out of this dress and I’ll show you.”
Hopefully, they made it home first. I don’t think it would bode well for her to start her reign as Minister by banging someone on the balcony outside of her party.