I own nothing. I just borrowed the characters for entertainment purposes only.

Dear Reader, this is my first fanfiction. In English, that is. Read and review but please be kind and gentle about any mistakes I might have made. Happy to take opinions positive or negative to help me improve. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.

Highway to Heaven

Chapter 1

Hermione stepped into the large foyer of that hot and new luxurious hotel named Highway to Heaven, which was owned by none other than Lucius I-eat-muggles-for-breakfast Malfoy. She did not want to be there. Unfortunately for her, she was forced to be there by none other than Lucius I-am-sexy-and-I-know-it Malfoy. She looked around searching for the reception as she was slowly walking on the red plush carpet, that is until a broad muscled chest blocked her view. That oh so lovely chest trailed into slim waist and hips, then long legs, and the way up... Speaking of the devil!

"Miss Granger, what a..."

"Unfortunate accident Mr Malfoy," came her resigned interruption.

"A pleasant surprise I was about to say," smirked the heartbreaking handsome blonde wizard.

"A surprise you say. You practically blackmailed me into coming to this...What did you call it? Remembrance? Celebration?

"Why, of course Miss Granger, they both stand for this remarkable event."

"As a matter of fact 'Mr. Malfoy'," she said, putting emphasis to his name. "There is nothing to celebrate about such a horrid thing war and the death of hundreds. Speaking of remembrance, I can assure you that I have no intention to remember, if you know what I mean." (Rightfully so, Hermione hadn't forgiven him for the unpleasant experience that happened in the Malfoy Manor five years ago.) Hypocritical asshole! Rather hot for that though... "Still, here I am as you "ordered" me." Sarcasm was Hermione's new best friend. "Can you please show me to my room now, that is, if you do not mind?"

"But of course, Miss Granger. Your wish is my command," Lucius Malfoy replied jovially, extended his arm for the rather sharp-tongued damsel who contemptuously ignored the noble gesture of the so called 'good' wizard.

Lucius Malfoy's heart was bleeding heavily from such a rude action of the fiery witch, but nonetheless, he showed the way to the very sizeable reception area. How for Merlin's shitty pants could I not see this? She received her room key faster than lightning. The presence of the luscious owner supported the case she thought. Not that the extremely well-trained staff needed the pressure providing the perfect service. She made her way to the glass cabins that one would call lifts, while she silently hoped she would get rid of that tormenting blonde pain in her arse, at least for a while. She was surprised to see that Malfoy was insistently following her, always right on her heels. Pretending he was invisible, she turned her back on him and didn't even breathe until they arrived at the top floor – thirteenth for that matter – and marched straight to her room. With a wave of her wand, she shut the door in the blondie's face and other body parts. Lucius Malfoy - who naturally wasn't scared away by her temporarily sick manner - calmly walked to the next door and entered his own suite. Was that closeness sheer chance? No, not likely. With him owning the hotel, one could only be sure that he already set his sneaky Slytherin mind on some sort of fishy business.

Hermione, relieved to escape from the disgustingly sexy, but at least incredibly arrogant ex-Death Eater, who also had a really beautiful silver-white mane, and not to mention those breathtakingly cruel-grey eyes capable to freeze a whole shiny blue lake in the middle of the summer. Dozens of women fantasized about those frosty eyes, and as the rumor had it, Malfoy was gracious enough to give in to all the women. One by one, of course. There were also rumor's about how that was the very reason Narcissa didn't call herself Malfoy anymore.

Hermione looked around and found herself in a vast and very fine suite. Fluffy cream colored carpets, beautiful mahogany furniture, huge windows framed by heavy velvet curtains and this was only the sitting room. The bedroom was the size of a ballroom, or at least it felt like it. A door from the bedroom led to a marvellous bathroom with a marble sink and bathtub. She placed her clothes into the walk-in closet, then checked her appearance in the mirror.

"You look beautiful today my lady," said the mirror, startling Hermione.

"Oh my, thank you...ehm..." She was blushing gracefully. A talking mirror! Such a stupid idea! How could scaring the shit out of guests make them feel welcome and comfortable? Polite as she was, she never said her thoughts aloud. She couldn't even bear to hurt a mirror's feelings.

"Elgar at your service, my lady," replied the shiny mirror courteously, and would have probably taken a bow if he hadn't been a rigid piece of glass.

"Thank you, and see you later, I guess," she said, perplexed. Shaking her head as she left the bathroom.

Craving for some refreshment, Hermione grabbed her book and left the beautiful room, then went to visit the lounge on the fifth floor. She found her way easy enough, since this was not her first time in the Highway to Heaven. She came here on regular basis for business meetings with the devil himself - oh, pardon me - with Lucius Malfoy. He was her client from nearly the very minute she opened her brokerage firm. After the war, she finished her school and then went looking for her parents to reverse their memory, which was a pretty challenging procedure, but then again, she was Hermione Granger after all. With her parents' financial support, she was able to establish her own teeny-weeny company, and that was Hermione Granger's big shot. Wizarding money in the muggle stock market investments. Undoubtedly, she was a genius. She worked a lot for ten percent of the profit , but she loved her job and Lucius Malfoy was definitely a big fish of a client. His investments ensured at least forty percent of her income. When he invited her to this three days gathering, he had made it quite clear that either she came, or she could forget about her fat little ten percent. Therefore, she obliged, and presumed that Ron and Harry became the victims of a very similar arrangement themselves. Wizards and witches would come to meet the Golden Trio thus they had to be there. The "cream" of the Wizarding world paid a fine price to participate in such a glorious event. Of course, the income was claimed to be donated on charity purposes as Lucius Malfoy - best man of long passed Voldemort, who playing a really nasty role during the war - now had to buy the good opinion of Wizarding society.