Hello Everybody. Welcome to chapter one of Talkin' bout My Girl.

Summary: (Post Deathly Hallows)

Draco Malfoy bumps into a muggle angel, or so he calls her, while out in London, and is instantly smitten with the woman, whose face he has never seen properly before. Unbeknownst to the wizard, his muggle angel happens to be his arch-nemesis Hermione Granger, who uses his lack of memory towards her as a tool against him.

Chapter One

I ran into her again on the busy streets of London. She wore her long caramel locks out today, and they were cascading down her back like any other waterfall I had ever chanced to see. She wore the same blouse as last time, but this time in a pale grey shade, rather than pure white, accompanied with a tight fitting black pencil skirt.

In one arm she held a pile of what appeared to be paperwork, and the other a cup of coffee. A black leather bag was slung over one shoulder, the chains clanging against one another as she made her way down the road.

There she was, walking casually in my direction, for the second time this week. Ever since she had passed me by early Monday morning as I was hurrying to a business meeting, I had been eager to see this fine young lady again. I usually didn't take this route to work, but I had taken the detour to pick up coffee for the meeting (which may I mention is the most heavenly muggle invention to grace this earth) as my assistant had owled in sick with a dreadful case of the flu.

But today, well, it was just an excuse for the chance that I may bump into her once again.

I could tell that she was a muggle, I was in the middle of muggle London for Merlin's sake, but to be honest, that side of me had already disappeared. I hadn't met a woman who attracted me to this degree, ever. As we passed each other, I felt her hair brush against my face, and the smell of vanilla and strawberries filled my senses. She was like a hypothetical angel from the muggle heaven in which I did not believe in, and I could almost see the halo glowing above her head. So what If I had never seen her face, from her other features, I could already tell she was beautiful, and not only on the outside.

I continued my way down the road, doing my best to avoid bumping into others in their frenzy to arrive to work on time. Stepping into a dark alleyway, I checked for any other muggles passing by before apparating to my office.

The room was already brightly lit, and I settled down behind my desk, prepared for the day. An ebony brown speckled own, trademarked by the company, swooped in and dropped a small pile of letters onto my desk, before flying out the way it entered. I tore open the first envelope, and mentally groaned.

Son,

Your mother and I expect you to be home for dinner tonight, no excuses made.
Your ex-wife will also be present and I warn you again to be on your best behaviour
if you wish to gain full custody of your daughter. Be there at seven, and trust me
when I assure you that no one will be pleased if you are late.

Father

I threw the letter onto a stack of others I had ignored throughout the week. This was the sixth time he had owled me in two days, and I was getting sick of it. Sighing, I returned to the other messages in the pile.

Dearest Son,

I'm sending this after your father reminding you that you must be present at dinner.
You may be granted full custody if an agreement is made, and I know that is what
you want. You don't want your own child to grow up with that horrible woman do you?
Don't be late, I instructed the house-elves to make your favourite desert.

Love,

Mother

P.S – Your father has been a bit of a grouch lately, I suspect he's going senile.

Dinner with my parents. It was definitely something to not look forward to. And I completely agree with my mother that my ex-wife is a horrible wench, (that may be a use of strong language, but I do feel it is necessary in this context, or anything that may involve that woman) and I should have never married her.

But I have no regrets about my daughter, as she is one of the best parts of my life. She turned eight two weeks ago, and I thank Merlin that she inherited my own mothers charm and grace. She had been living with her mother since the 'amicable divorce' as claimed by the daily prophet. But my little Ophelia had always been a daddy's girl and her mother certainly didn't love her as much as I did.

I looked down at the watch on my left wrist, a family heirloom. The snake that framed the face of the watch continually slithered around, never reaching its tail. It was exactly 9:00am, and I expected my secretary to enter any moment. As I had predicted, the door swung open and she walked in, thankfully completely recovered from her health issues, placing a pile of notes and memos from other non-important meetings that she had attended in my stead.

'Good morning sir. Amanda left you a roll of parchment to review before this afternoon, Hamilton owled before you arrived and wants to remind you once again that the meeting next tuesday has been moved from three o'clock to nine in the morning. The head of the finance department wishes to inform you that the business deal with Rockwell has resulted in a company loss of almost ten thousand galleons. That is all.

She left the room as quickly as she entered, and dropped my head, banging it against my desk, resulting in a dull ache and likely a red marring upon my skin. A ten thousand dollar loss? Oh my father was definitely not going to take this well. I would be lucky to make it out of dinner alive at this rate. The doors opened again, and I looked up to see my best friend and lawyer storm into the room.

'Draco, I've got news, and you are not going to like this.'

And just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse.

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