~*~

She spent the better part of a half-hour braiding and unbraiding her hair into a single plait to lay over her shoulder. Approaching her armoire after finally deciding in favor of the plait, she roved her eyes through the dresses and skirts Pansy had added to her wardrobe. Hermione frowned at herself. She was not about to wear a dress to her practice session with Draco.

The pairs of shorts swayed on their hangers, begging her attention. Perhaps she could try something different. Her stomach flipped pleasantly at the thought of her bare skin on him, but she shoved it aside. She was wearing shorts tonight because the fabric was flexible. And if she was going to end up on the floor this evening, at least she'd have a better chance of catching herself. Hermione plucked a matching top from the wardrobe and finished getting ready.

Draco had differing opinions about the shorts.

"The hell are those?" he said when he entered the sitting room to find her sitting on the chaise, waiting for him with her legs crossed.

She looked down at herself. "Shorts?"

His lips curled. "And might I ask why you're wearing an over-large pair of cotton knickers to dinner?"

She lifted a brow. "Because it's warm outside. And these are easier to move in." She followed his eyes as they ran down her legs.

He glared at her, eyes flicking down to her knees before moving away.

"Wait." She quickly stood. "I'm sorry about last night. About all the nights, really—"

He opened his mouth. Then snapped it closed.

"I had no clue that you were uncomfortable," she rushed out, blood racing through her ears. "I wasn't aware of this issue."

"Granger," he said dryly, "I will walk out of this room right now if you don't stop talking."

"Please. I just…" She took a deep breath. "I know this is hard for you—" She flushed at her poor choice of words. "But if there's a signal you could give me — tugging your ear or something — then I'll stop. I only ask that you try. I won't be upset if... if it happens. Alright?"

He'd shut his eyes during her speech. If it weren't for his pink cheekbones, she'd have thought he hadn't heard her.

Then, after what felt like ages — a tip of his head.

"Good." Her lungs dragged in air again.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly moved towards his usual chair.

Swallowing, Hermione stopped him with, "I thought we'd try something different today."

Draco paused and looked back at her like she was about to unleash a Blast-Ended Skrewt on him. She sat, patting the cushion next to her on the chaise.

"What are we 'trying?'" he grumbled, coming to sit as far from her as possible.

She pulled the table with the food and wine close to them. "I thought we'd start fresh. That chair has… history. Besides, I doubt we'll always sit in that armchair in the Lounge. There are couches as well."