AN- This story sees Hermione in a completely different light- a sort of ruthless, egoistic undercurrent which I think was always in her. It's a hot fic, so enjoy, and REVIEW. I love feedback.

My Story

Draco gently pushed aside a strand of her glossy brown hair, artistically curled and suitably tinted. His fingers brushed across a milky white, soft cheek, and gently painted lips. She inhaled sharply at his touch, and he knew he hadn't lost that magic that spark he could create every time he came near her, despite the fact that ten years had passed since they last met.

She reached up with a slender hand, and pushed away his. He noticed a shimmering diamond bracelet dangling from her wrist, peeping from under the luxuriant beige furs she wore over a silk scarlet dress.

'What's the matter, Hermione?' he smirked. 'Afraid to meet an old friend?'

He glanced at her large, pale brown eyes. They were filled with horror.

'You,' she said, softly. 'You! Where did- where did you come from?'

'My dear, you wouldn't want to know,' he said, mockingly. 'Perhaps we should go inside. Your chauffeur is highly interested. He hasn't recognized me yet, but given a bit of time…' he flicked his eyes to the left.

Hermione followed his gaze, met the curious glance of her chauffeur and offered him a bright, plastic smile.

'Thank you, Jim,' she said, smoothly. 'That will be all.'

He tilted his cap and the stretch limousine drew away fluidly. Hermione and Draco were left on the doorstep of her Wiltshire mansion. She glanced furtively around once more, and then grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, ignoring the spark that raced through her as her fingers closed around his skin.

Once the door closed behind them, the foyer room of the mansion was dark. Hermione fumbled and then put on a light. The yellow glow fell on her features, and Draco uttered a sound of satisfaction.

'That's better,' he said, 'I can see you in this light.'

His silvery eyes raked her form, and he took in the changes that had come across her from the time he had last seen her- the sixth year, when he had run away with the Death Eaters. Her body had filled out, and training had given her the right curves. Her hair was shingled and colored and draped artistically down her back, by the hand of one of the best Parisian salons, her face was long, her cheekbones more poignant and her smile sweeter and more poisonous at the same time. She was exquisitely made up- her skin milky white, her eyes dark and expressive, and her lips a blood red that glinted in the dim light. Thank god she had not gone in for the bronze effect. It wouldn't have suited her.

Draco's eyes moved lower, and he took in the expensively cut scarlet dress and the rich furs she wore, the beaded clutch and the cigarette in a holder in her hand. Somehow, though, he felt her beauty had ebbed.

'You looked more beautiful,' he told her, 'When you were a scared schoolgirl of sixteen who kept coming to meet me night after night after night.'

A furious growl erupted from her mouth and he chuckled.

'Come, come, Granger, that's hardly polite. I'm not too comfy right now-.' He glanced down at his muddy, tattered robes. 'Maybe you should offer me a drink.'

She looked coldly at him.

'This way.'

He followed her through a series of expertly lit corridors, into a dark room with oriental furnishing and thick carpeting, lit only by a lamp through an amber shade. Hermione dropped her beaded clutch onto the divan and gestured towards it while she headed to the bar.

'What will you have?' she asked, with icy politeness.

Draco was taking in the surroundings. 'Wine, please,' he said, fingering a fold of Persian chintz which draped the divan bolsters. He was admiring the silken tapestries when Hermione brought him a full glass.

'Here,' she said, abruptly, and then sat down in a clawed chair opposite her, cradling her own goblet of Zinfandel.

Draco took a sip and nodded graciously. 'It's good.' He said. 'You've done well, Granger.'

'Thank you,' she said, abruptly, sipping her drink.

'Better perhaps than I have?'

He was baiting her. 'Perhaps.' She replied.

He chuckled. His mind was reeling back to their sixth year at Hogwarts. There had been so much stress and pain, thinking of Voldemort and the threat which forever hung over him. And then, in the cold, musty library, hours after lights down all those meetings with the beautiful woman in front of him. Only, she hadn't been like this then- she had been scrawny, with a large mane of dirty hair, wide, appealing eyes…

'I suppose this manor was to ridicule me?' he asked, glancing around.

She stared at him. 'Excuse me?'

'Come, now, Granger. You know as well as I do that this was where I lived before that- unfortunate tragedy. Your buying it wasn't just coincidence- nor would it have been easy, considering your meager financial support.' He took another long sip. 'Why don't you tell me how it happened?'

The wine is softening me Hermione thought. I can't possibly want to talk to this aristocratic beggar. He's sitting here so calm, as if he- he owns the place…

He used to she reminded herself.

Finally, she spoke.

'I don't know,' she said, softly. 'Things were confusing when you left, Draco. Too much uncertainty.' She glanced up at him. 'It makes no difference to me now, but I might as well tell you. I missed you.' She said, simply.

Draco continued to gaze softly at her and she went on.

'But that wasn't all. There was- so much more. You see,' her fiery eyes bore into his. 'I was with child.'

His hand made an involuntary gesture out of surprise. 'A child?'

She nodded. 'Your child. I had it aborted, of course. I told Ron it was his.'

Draco sunk back into his seat. 'You aborted my child?'

'Don't reproach me,' she said, coldly. 'I wanted it even less than you did.'

'And Weasley?'

She gave a short, barking laugh. 'He was just afraid his mother would find out. The child went in silence. But I was left lonely, because with it Ron went to.'

'I suppose if he hadn't you would have married him?'

'Most assuredly. There was a family there that I cared for and there wasn't much money, but that wasn't the issue. I could have made it anyway.'

'In short, all the ingredients for a happily ever after.' Draco said, mockingly. 'Why didn't it happen?'

'Because Ron left me. He married Parvati Patil instead.'

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'I see.'

'They have two children now,' Hermione said, smoothly, as if she were narrating a story. 'But I was alone. I got an apartment in London. Three months later, I met Mr. McGleiny.'

'Never heard of him.'

'He's a very big producer in the film business. He's the one who introduced me to all-.' She waved her hand about airily. 'This.'

Draco acknowledged this with a nod. 'You became a world famous actress just like that?'

'Oh, no,' she shook her head vigorously. 'It was difficult, Draco. But then I was glad I didn't marry Ron. He would have just been a hindrance. There was lots of hard work and late nights- and lots of sex, also. You see, McGleiny wasn't so generous as to let me in for free.'

Draco leaned back. 'So you paid him in bed?'

Hermione smiled with satisfaction. 'Like a goddess.' She said. 'But once I had his stamp of approval, it was easy enough.'

She put her drink down, and her eyes fastened on his. 'Now that I'm done, why don't you tell me you're story?'

Draco put his glass down too and stood up. 'Actually,' he said, his eyes filled with challenge. 'All that talk about sex has made me a little hungry.'

She stood up and faced him. A fluid like movement, and the furs were on the ground, and her dress was glinting in the dull light.

'Maybe,' she whispered, 'I should feed you.'

He smirked and drew her closer. She felt his heart drumming under her fingertips. 'You've been wanting this, haven't you, Hermione?' he asked.

She smiled and brought her lips closer to his. 'I've dreamt about it, Draco.'

In another minute, his lips had come crashing down on hers, and he was grinding his body against the flimsiness of her gown. She tightened her arms around his back and felt his hardness against her. The sensation went to Draco's head, and he moaned softly.

'God,' he whispered. 'God.'

She reached for the clasp of his robes and her fingers made short work of it. Draco felt the material slide down his length, and began scrambling at the back of her dress. It ripped and fell to the floor, sliding past her long, smooth legs, snagging on the handle of the drawer of the coffee table behind her. Draco just had enough time to think What kind of coffee table has a drawer on it? When her hands touched him, and he forgot everything else.

They were on the floor now, and Draco was urgently pulling aside her flimsy panties. Her hands were roaming in his boxers, pulling, tugging…

He delved into the sweetness and gripped her shoulders, moaning her name against her throat. Hermione grazed her nails into his back, and felt his teeth fasten on her skin…

When it was over, he gazed her, his eyes filled with lust.

'I think we should do that again,' he said, huskily.

She was already grinding against him.

oOo

A few hours later, both lay naked on the floor, and Draco was admiring the way the amber light fell on her pale skin. His skimmed a finger down her neck, to her breasts and felt her breathe under his fingertip.

'You're beautiful,' he said, softly.

She smiled up at him, fingering a lock of his platinum hair.

'Draco,' she said, softly. 'Tell me your story.'

He looked down at her. 'Darling, you don't want to hear it.'

She looked evenly at his eyes, glimmering in the soft light. 'I think I do.'

He sighed and pushed her off him. Sitting up, he picked up his glass and took a long sip. In front of her bemused eyes, he eased two fingers into the glass and began to fish around.

'Don't be so surprised, darling,' he said, comfortably. 'Just listen to my story.'

Her eyes traveled up from his fingers, dipped in the wine. 'Tell me.'

He sighed. 'It was difficult.' He said, slowly. 'Always difficult. You see, I had so much to handle. There was you and Pansy and so many other girls-.' Her eyes narrowed, and he smirked. 'And there was the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters…to make things worse, I funked up and couldn't kill Dumbledore. I got punished bitterly for that.'

He gestured towards his forearm, and beside the dark mark, Hermione saw several long thin scars. 'I got thrown out.' He continued. ' So was Blaise- Blaise Zabini, because he disobeyed some orders. We were in exile and Voldemort had nothing to do with me. He murdered my parents and this Manor was put up for sale, so I had no where to go.' His eyes scanned her remorseless face. 'I found out only later that you lived in it. And by then you were rich and famous and I didn't think you'd have me. I needed money and I needed it badly. That's when Blaise and I came up with a plan.'

Hermione's eyebrows rose. 'And what exactly was that?'

He smiled and his fingers withdrew from the wineglass. In the palm of his hand was a small black chip.

'I know the Manor's protected against magic, my dear, but I thought a small Muggle chip would get in unnoticed. I hope you don't mind?'

'Not at all, darling Go on about this plan for yours.'

'Oh well,' he stretched his arms behind him. 'If you wish. The plan was you, cherie. You were the only link I had with the modern world. You were rich and famous and lived in my old home. And given your reputation, I knew you'd be horrified if I turned up suddenly claiming to know you. A you clearly demonstrated in front of your chauffeur this evening.'

Hermione watched him dryly. 'Very interesting,' she said, 'So this was all a game, all a charade. All part of your plan. So what was it exactly? You came to me for money knowing it would tarnish my reputation. Did you think I would marry you?'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Oh good heaven's no. I'd never be tied down to a woman the way you think- especially one like you, so dominating.' He said the world like it was something filthy. 'Honestly, I liked you better when you were a scared schoolgirl, Hermione. You've turned into a ruthless film star.'

She smiled at him. 'It's interesting that you think I'm ruthless.' She said. 'Why don't you go on about that plan of yours?'

'Seeing as how I never deny a naked woman, cherie, never deny her- anything- I might as well tell you. It was this-.'

His fingers opened around the chip. 'It's a Muggle device, one that the sensors in the house wouldn't permit. I know the spells on this Manor. It just videotaped our entire- session. And unless you want a tape of you making love to a most wanted Death Eater circulating the world, I suggest you make my life more comfortable.'

'Ah!' Hermione said, her eyes lighting up. 'I get it. Blackmail. You're blackmailing to pay you so that my life and career isn't ruined.'

Draco smiled. 'You were never stupid.'

'Was that the only reason you made love to me?'

His eyes roved her pale, naked body. 'Mostly. There were other encouraging factors. Such as-.' He winked. 'You always were a delectable treat.'

She nodded. 'Effective,' she said, slowly. 'An almost foolproof method to get money off me.'

'Not almost, Hermione. Entirely. This time, it's you checkmate.'

He ran through the plan he and Blaise had cooked up through his head. Of course- she was stuck in a Catch 22. There was nowhere for her to go.

She smiled coolly up at him. Her lipstick was slightly smudged at one corner, and Draco felt aware of eroticism flood him.

'Just one question, Draco.'

'Yes?'

She coiled one foot under her. 'You say I'm ruthless. You came here to blackmail me. And yet your wand is in your shirt pocket, and your shirt is on the floor under me. My wand, on the other hand, is right behind me on the coffee table. What stops me from blowing your brains out right now?'

He laughed. 'I know all the spells on this Manor better than you do, Hermione. But even you know that it's impossible for a Muggleborn to kill a Malfoy in the premises. My dear deceased father made it so. Why do you even bother with these flimsy queries?' He paused, and then added. 'And besides, a wand can't blow my brains out.'

'I know.' Her voice was steely and he looked up sharply. 'But this can.'

A spasm of shock shot through him. She was holding a pearl handled pistol, a small toy, but a deadly one, aimed directly at his head. He realized that while he had been talking she had taken it from the drawer of the coffee table behind her., the one he had been wondering about minutes previously.

'God,' he said, breaking out into a sweat. 'Dear god.'

She shook her head piteously. 'Just Hermione,' she corrected. She moved forward and pressed the pistol against the flesh of temple, watching him wince. 'Oh, dear, Draco. Never, ever underestimate me.' She whispered. 'I'm no fool. I know why a rejected Death Eater would turn up at my doorstep at times of dire need.'

'No!' he uttered a low choke. 'No, it can't be. No one knew of this plan. No one except Blaise. It can't- you couldn't have-.'

She laughed softly. 'You have so much left to learn. Too bad you won't live long enough to do so.'

She cocked the gun and Draco screwed up his eyes in terror.

'Oh, and don't worry about the chip. It will be put to good use. My husband and I will be adding it to our private- collection.'

Her words penetrated through his mist of terror. He shook his head, confusedly.

'Husband?'

'Oh, don't you know?' she said, coolly. 'I married Blaise a year ago.'

And then she pulled the trigger.