As she dusted a shelf in the study in Malfoy manor, Hermione reflected once again on how lucky she was to have gotten this job, even on a probationary basis. With her crippling student debt and now her mother's medical bills to consider, she had thought it would take decades before she would be able to pay everything off. It was hard to imagine what kind of people would pay so much for a live-in maid, but if they hired her permanently, Hermione would be able to pay everything off in about five years. That prospect made even the skimpy French-maid uniform seem like not such a big problem. And, she decided, if her employers were willing to pay her as much as they said, they must be eccentrics anyway.

Hermione was bent over, dusting a lower shelf, when she heard someone enter the room. She straightened up immediately, aware that the skimpy uniform had been even more revealing in that position. She blushed deeply as she realized that the intruder was unmistakably a Malfoy.

The man in the doorway was an imposing figure – tall, with broad shoulders and well-toned muscles clearly visible against his tan shirt. His white-blonde hair framed a face that was undeniably handsome, but held a hint of cruelty in the set of his jaw and the corners his lips. But most striking were his cold blue eyes, which were currently fixed on Hermione.

She stood paralyzed, unsure whether to leave or stay or speak, as he took a step toward her. "You must be new," he said, eyes still fixed on hers. Hermione nodded.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, coming closer, "I am Draco. And you are?"

"Hermione," she stammered as he came closer still. She found herself taking a step backward to escape his proximity. His gaze was unnerving her, and she blushed a shade darker.

One corner of Draco's mouth twitched up in amusement. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hermione," he said, "but please, don't pause your work on my account." He gestured to the bookshelf.

Hermione nodded and turned back to the shelf, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her back. She was keenly aware of how short the uniform's skirt was with Draco right behind her, but tried to pretend it didn't worry her. She bent over and began dusting the bottom two shelves.

Suddenly she felt what she thought was a hand brush her behind, light enough to be by accident. She glanced at Draco out of the corner of her eye but he was reaching for a book beside her, and didn't seem to be paying her any more attention. Deciding she had imagined it, she continued her dusting, then froze. His had was unmistakably on her rear. She glanced again out the corner of her eye at him. He appeared to be engrossed in some section of the book he had selected, but his hand gently caressed her, then gave a light squeeze and a little smack. Before Hermione could react, he removed his hand, replaced the book, and left without a backward glance.

She stood for a moment, unsure how she should have responded. He had definitely touched her inappropriately but he hadn't appeared to think it was any kind of big deal. Maybe that was why the job paid so well, she thought, you have to put up with the handsy son. It wasn't any worse than the sloppy groping that she usually got when she worked in bars, but it had just taken her by surprise, she decided. And so she got back to dusting and put what had happened out of her mind. By the end of the day she was almost unsure it had even happened.

A few days passed before she encountered Draco again.