Just Intentions
Hermione walked briskly into the courtroom. She set down her things on the prosecution table and glanced quickly through them, making sure everything was in order. She liked to be proficient in her work. This case was like any other. She was confident that she was going to win because, as usual, the truth was on her side. She could win over any jury with her stunning combination of femininity and intellect. Not to mention the other lawyers, the public defenders, were usually no more than middle aged men trying to get through the day and retire with a nice pension. Really, there was no contest.
Sitting down and glancing at her client, Hermione mentally prepared herself for the task at hand, becoming Ms. Granger, a successful part of the Ministry's personal prosecution team. She looked to her left and noticed the defendant sitting alone – his lawyer unaccounted for. She paused, knowing that Gordon Smithson, the PD in charge of the case was usually one for punctuality. Inconspicuously she glanced around the room and noticed a man at the front speaking with the Wizengamot spokeswoman for the trial, the Honorable Elizabeth Leversly. Noticing her gaze, Leversly motioned for Ms. Granger to step forward. She nodded to her client and moved to the bench.
"Ms. Granger, unfortunately Mr. Smithson has taken ill unexpectedly. However, the office sent over a replacement defender. If you have no concerns, we will begin."
Ms. Granger nodded to Leversly and looked to the man standing beside her. Suddenly she was Hermione again. Standing before her was a very suave but very smug looking Draco Malfoy. "Hello, Granger."
"Malfoy," she managed. She swallowed but looked him squarely in the eye. Without looking away she added, "Then let's begin."
The pair walked away from the bench and Malfoy muttered, "You don't look too bad, Granger." She opened her mouth slightly in shock before remembering where she was and the task at hand. She walked stiffly back to her table and gave Malfoy a sidelong glance, but he was looking straight ahead. She took a breath and let herself become Ms. Granger again.
"Honorable Leversly and proud members of the Wizengamot," she began, entering into her spiel on justice and her case. She settled into the routine and felt comfortable with the situation again. She finished her opening statements and sat down with a flourish. There were a few nods of approval from the stands above her and she relaxed, if only for a moment. It was Malfoy's turn. He stood, gracefully and began an elegant and calculated speech unlike any defense she had ever heard before.
"Witches and Wizards of the court, I stand before you, aghast at what has happened to what we once knew as a court of law. When I joined the legal system I was misguiding into believing I would be helping the innocent victims of heinous crimes, yet what I see today fills me with shame for our community. It seems, as the prosecution would have you believe, that any crime reported by an upstanding citizen must be true. Yet I stand before you today and tell you that this man, my client, is the upstanding citizen. His record of previous offenses, misdemeanors of little consequence, has demeaned his reputation among all of you. Yet here am I, a man with a mark on my record greater than most of you can imagine, and I am upheld as a member of high class and distinction. My client has committed wrongs, yet he has reformed his ways. It is time we listen to the truth, even when it is not the crisp words we long to hear. It is time to accept the facts and deal with the consequences." He sat down and murmurs raced through the room.
Perhaps I've underestimated him, Hermione thought. Maybe he's finally learned. She turned slightly towards his table to acknowledge his statement and found him staring right into her. The gaze was intense, his eyes piercing into the core of her being. She found she couldn't look away and then…he smirked. Her eyes narrowed and she realized it was a classic Malfoy ploy to get to her. She turned away coldly and stood to begin with her first witness, calling her client's roommate to the stand.
"Now, Ms. Green," she began, "where were you on the night of September 8th?" Her questions were direct and she got the answers she wanted easily. "Now Ms. Green, would you recognized the item in question if placed before you?"
"Yes, I would," she answered softly. Ms. Granger turned back to the table to retrieve the item and noticed Malfoy staring intently at her, almost… possessively, as if she was an object to be won. It unnerved her, but she arrived at the table without incident. She held up the evidence bag and asked, "Is this –" There was an "mmhmm" behind her. She glanced back quickly and saw Malfoy eyeing her up and down discreetly. Her mouth set and she cleared her throat. "Is this," she began again, "the wand the defendant broke during the alleged duel?"
"It—"
"Objection, Your Honor," Malfoy stood gallantly, not caring that he had cut off the witness. "Ms. Granger is leading the witness." Her mouth opened in shock. "There has been no evidence to prove the evidence of such a duel. I move that the witness's comments be removed from the record."
"Your Honor, it was not my intention –"
"But that was its outcome," Malfoy interceded.
"Your Honor, I understand the striking of the question, but the whole witness's testimony? That doesn't make sense."
"Ms. Granger, the comment was certainly objectionable and it shall be struck from the record. However, you may continue with the witness," Leversly allowed.
"Thank you." She nodded to Leversly and returned to the witness. "Is this the wand in question?"
"Yes."
"Now, can you tell me what happened to this wand?"
"James threatened Sophie and she pulled her wand, but he grabbed it first and broke it. Sparks flew everywhere and then there was an explosion. I ran to help her, but the bookcase fell and Sophie was crushed. If he had kept his temper…Sophie wouldn't have been hurt."
"Now—"
"Objection," Now what, Hermione thought in anger. "Your Honor, the witness is speculating."
"But, Your Honor, I –" She began.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy brings up an excellent point. Please handle your witness more carefully. Objection sustained. Do you have any further questions for this witness?"
"Not at this time," she replied. She turned from the bench to her seat and saw Malfoy smirking at her. He gave her a once over, his eyes lingering, and then smirked. She gritted her teeth and felt her blood boil. She returned to her seat and Malfoy took the stage, elegantly pulling answers from her witness that shouldn't have been there. When he finished, he sat back down haughtily and stared at her again. It was enough. She sat fuming for a moment and then stood. "Your Honor? May I approach the bench?" Leversly nodded and motioned for Malfoy to come as well.
"Ms. Leversly, May we have a brief recess? I need to discuss something with the defense."
Leversly looked to Malfoy. "Is that alright?"
"Anything to help out a colleague." He smiled brilliantly, the first time Hermione had ever seen it. It was shocking, but it wasn't a genuine smile. Yet, Leversly seemed to eat it up.
"This court is adjourned for a half an hour recess." She banged the gavel on her stand and the other members of the Wizengamot filed out, speaking in hushed tones.
"Malfoy." Hermione intoned. He raised an eyebrow. She sighed and motioned toward the door of the court room.
He smirked and replied, "Ladies first." She rolled her eyes, but walked straight out of the room. She turned a few times, not bothering to see if he followed, but only stopped when she found a deserted corner. She turned abruptly and finally let her anger show.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and played an innocent face. "Whatever do you mean?"
"You know bloody well what I mean Malfoy."
"Tsk tsk. Watch your language, Granger."
"You are infuriating."
"I do try."
"What do you want?" She asked, trying a different tactic.
"I'm sorry?" A small smile flitted across his lips.
"You're staring at me and purposely trying to unnerve me. What will it take to stop?"
He looked at her coyly and replied, "Is it working?"
"Answer the question."
"So it is then."
"Malfoy, so help me…"
"Or what, Granger? You'll tell on me? We're not in school anymore." He stood silently for a moment, watching her. "You want to know what I want?" She nodded. "Go on a date with me tonight and I promise, the looks stop."
"Excuse me?" She managed.
"It's quite simple, Granger. I take you to dinner, we eat, perhaps we talk…"
"I know what a date is, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth.
"Excellent. What time shall I pick you up?"
"I didn't agree to anything…"
"But you want me to stop staring at you."
"Yes."
"Well, in order for that to happen, I want something in return."
"But I'm living with Ron," she tried desperately.
"Last I heard, Weasley was off visiting his brother in Romania."
"He is, but—"
"Granger, one date is not going to kill you."
"No, it's not." She looked him in the eyes, trying to understand what had just happened. She couldn't be scared of him, could she? She'd faced far more terrifying experiences with Harry, hadn't she? Yet somehow, this was different. She made up her mind. "Seven. 1200 W Oxford St." She walked past him back toward the court room before she could change her mind. Behind her Malfoy half smiled to himself before following after her.
"Not this, not that… What do I possibly have?" Hermione muttered to herself. What does one wear to a date with a former school enemy? Under other circumstances, she may have actually found it amusing. However, it was 6:45 and she was not ready in any sense of the word. How would she ever explain this to Ron when he got back? How – she had to get back to the task at hand. The clock was ticking. She finally pulled out a pretty mauve top and a pair of black silk pants. As the clock struck seven she was just finishing putting her hair up and the door bell rang. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She opened it and caught her breath. The light from her porch seemed to make him glow. His hair shone like silk and the top button of his royal blue collared shirt was undone, showing off a hint of his toned chest. She blinked and took the door handle. "Shall we?" She motioned toward the street. He held out his arm and she looked up at him. He seemed a completely different person. She slipped her arm through his and shut the door firmly behind them. They walked down the street in the fading light to a car Malfoy had waiting at the corner.
He opened the door for her and added, "After you." Hermione smiled at him and sat down. He shut the door behind her and walked around to the other side. It was a spacious car, filled with black leather and small neon green lights. It had a very private, almost intimate feel to it. She couldn't help but wonder how much money Malfoy actually had. She looked around as the car pulled away and then glanced at her companion, only to find him staring straight back at her. She blushed subconsciously and looked away.
"Where are we going?"
"One of my favorite restaurants."
"And that is…?" She looked at him expectantly.
"You'll see," he said and smirked. She rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling more comfortable. At least some things didn't change. The ride was pleasant enough. Soft music seemed to be playing somewhere in the car. They didn't talk much, but every time she looked at him, he seemed to be staring back, watching her. It was unnerving, but it wasn't the same as before. She couldn't place the look. Before she could come to any conclusions, the car pulled up to their destination and he was out of the car. Her door opened and he held out his hand to help her out. She took it gratefully, but she instantly regretted it. His hand was soft and cool. He held on for a second too long. She swallowed and followed him into the restaurant, trying to convince herself that it was just another ploy to get to her.
They entered and everyone seemed to know Malfoy. The maître d' led them to a reserved table in a corner of the room. Everything was elegant and expensive. They sat down and Malfoy ordered a bottle of French wine without looking at the menu. Then he proceeded to say something to the waiter in French. The waiter nodded and moved away.
"I hope you like snails."
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, a small laugh in her voice.
"I just ordered us escargot and baguettes for appetizers."
"Oh," she said simply. "Is that what you normally order?"
"Sometimes," he said simply. "Occasionally I'll order caviar, depending on my mood."
"And what mood would that be?"
"When I feel like spending 100 pounds on fish eggs simply because I have it."
Hermione choked on the water she had been sipping. "100 pound caviar?"
He looked at her. "Is that a problem?"
"No, I…I just don't think I've ever spent that much on an entire meal." He raised an eyebrow. "No, really. I don't have that kind of money to burn."
"I don't really think about it." She looked at him and their eyes locked. The waiter came over with the wine and poured it expertly.
"Are you ready to order, monsieur?"
"Oui, Marc. Je voudrais le poisson et pour la femme, le cannard."
"Bon, monsieur." He backed away and slipped into the kitchen. Hermione raised an eyebrow. He looked at her.
"What am I eating tonight?"
"Duck. Or you can have my fish, but I think you'll enjoy yours more."
"So you thought your selection would be superior to mine?" She was slightly annoyed.
He looked at her, slightly confused. "Did you look at the menu?"
"No, we were talking. I didn't get the chance."
"It was in French."
"You could have translated."
He looked at her and shook his head. He smirked and she looked at him coldly. "You just don't like other people making decisions for you."
"That's not it at all."
"It's not, is it? Maybe it's just the fact you like arguing."
"I do not!" she insisted.
"Then why is it you're a lawyer? Arguing is your job."
"I argue to let justice prevail! Not –"
"Listen to yourself! 'Justice prevail'? That sounds like some kind of national anthem. And whenever we seem to get along, you ruin it with a comment about how I'm a jerk?"
"I may have thought it, Malfoy," she said seething, "but I have never accused you of being a jerk."
"No, because you're too busy pretending to be perfect. You're too perfect for your own good. You don't fight for justice, you fight for perfection." He looked at her, his gray eyes blazing. Neither spoke and barely noticed Marc placing their meals before them.
Hermione breathed heavily. How dare he! she thought angrily. Silently she picked up her fork and began to eat the duck before her. It was delicious, but rather than admit it she transferred the focus to him. "Better eat your meal. I wouldn't want to be the cause of you wasting 100 pounds."
"300, actually, but I'm not really all that hungry. I do believe you have thoroughly ruined my appetite."
She took a few more careful bites. His gaze never left her. Finally she muttered, "I'm sorry." She stared at her food. He hadn't been eating, but it was noticeably quieter, as if he had stopped moving. She put her fork down and looked up to see him staring into her. His eyes had such a power over her. She swallowed, almost in fear.
"Thank you," he said softly. He began to eat his fish in delicate pieces. "So, Granger, you live with Weasley?"
"Yes. Why?"
He shrugged and took another bite. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he ate.
"What?" she demanded.
"Just thinking about you with Weasley."
Hermione put her fork down. "Excuse me?"
He laughed slightly. "Nothing." She continued to stare at him so he added, "I just can't imagine he'd be any good in bed."
"How dare you!" She leaned forward, her voice a harsh whisper as to avoid drawing attention. "My love life is not of your concern. I don't know why I'm even here."
"Then go," he said, gesturing to the door.
She stared at him angrily. "Will the looks continue?"
He stared at her incredulously. "I insult your sex life, and you're worried about the case?" He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "I don't know why he's still with you. All you care about is your work."
Her mouth fell open. She started to say something and then couldn't. She closed her mouth and bit her lip. She stared at him, refusing to accept his words. "Ron and I love each other. He knows that my work is extremely important to me and he respects that. I wouldn't expect you to understand. I'm sure you haven't had a real relationship your whole life. Have you ever even considered committing yourself to someone else?"
"Thank you for transferring the conversation to my love life and yes, I have considered it. My life is a bit more complicated than yours, you see."
"Oh because you have a fantastic house, tons of money, and a great hair. Of course no girl would want to date you."
"You're not a good listener either. Plenty of women want my money or my looks, but that's not what I'm looking for."
Hermione took the last bite of her duck and looked at him. "What is it you want?" she said in a softer tone.
"You really want to know?" She nodded. "I want someone who makes me think, who challenges me, who loves me for me, not my money, and who wants to spend the rest of their life with me." He took a sip of his wine and then finished his fish.
"Are you serious?"
"Now it's my turn. Excuse me?"
"I—I just never expected to hear that coming from you. I thought you were the typical rich boy. I guess I just never bothered to find out."
"Hmm… no you didn't. One word from Potter and I'm the enemy."
"I – coming from him, wouldn't you believe it too? Not to mention the number of times you insulted me or called me 'mudblood.' I didn't think it was possible you had a soul."
"Thank you for that," he said raising his glass in a mock toast. "You didn't consider that this was after you had joined forces with the Savior of the Wizarding World?"
"No…" Hermione looked sadly into his eyes and said softly, "I'm sorry for that, too." Malfoy looked back at her, his expression unreadable.
"So you think I have great hair?"
She laughed and took another sip of wine. "I wish we'd done this years ago."
"Mmm," he muttered in agreement.
"I just don't know how I'm going to tell Ron that he was wrong."
Malfoy sighed at the mention of Ron. Before she could ask what it was, Marc arrived carrying dessert.
"You ordered dessert, too?"
"No, Madame. Monsieur Malfoy has a specialty." With that he smiled and left the table.
"A specialty?"
The side of Malfoy's mouth turned up in a half grin. "I once requested a personal sized chocolate mousse cake with Vanilla Bean ice cream and raspberry glaze. Once it was made, the chef liked it so much he made it a special the next night. Soon it became a hit and now it's on the menu. With me, it's still called the specialty. My specialty."
Hermione grinned and took a bite. It was absolutely divine. "Mmm…" she said sighing and closing her eyes.
"That good?"
"I don't think I can express how good. Malfoys certainly have good taste."
"Impeccable."
"Maybe not impeccable…"
"Oh?"
"It needs whipped cream."
"Ahh… I'm fairly sure the kitchen staff could actually whip some cream for you, but I don't think they have canned whipped cream. Somehow I don't think they view it as a delicacy."
"Are you mocking me?" she asked playfully.
"Perhaps," he said with a smirk, yet it was somehow not insulting. It just seemed natural to him.
She smiled and they finished their desserts in silent thought, but not silence. Marc took the plates away and said goodnight.
"Shall we?" Malfoy asked, offering his arm.
Hermione looked momentarily confused. "The bill?"
"Paid for." She looked at him again. "I own the place."
"Ohhhh… so the whole conversation on prices…?"
"Real prices, just I fund the restaurant, so I get my meals for free."
"I understand why it's a favorite," she said, taking his arm. He sighed and led her toward a different door than the one they entered. It led to a terrace overlooking a placid lake. The stars reflected back in its inky depths. "This is beautiful."
"Thank you. I originally built it so I would have a secluded place to apparate home, but it's also nice to get away from the restaurant sometimes." Malfoy stopped walking and she suddenly became aware of how close they were. He turned to her, his eyes freezing her again. "I had a lovely evening, Ms. Granger. Thank you for making it seem real." His words puzzled her and she opened her mouth to speak, but his lips closed over hers before she could say a word. In an instant, they were gone as quickly as they had come. She opened her eyes and he was gone, as well. She stood, shell-shocked for a moment before shaking her head and apparating home.
She fell onto her bed, fully clothed, completely confused. What had started as an awful, yet necessary meeting had turned into a pleasant date with a man she had hated for years. The worst part of all had come though when he kissed her, because Hermione couldn't decide what it had meant. And why did she suddenly wish there was a chance of it happening again?
Hermione awoke with a start. Her eyes were bleary from sleep. She rubbed her head as her dream from the night before slowly drifted away. All she could remember was something about Malfoy kissing her and Ron walking in. It was an awful dream. She glanced at her clock and got up to take a cold shower. She could tell it was going to be an interesting day.
When she got to work she went into her office and took out a few files for the day. Today was the day Sophia Grayson, her client, was going to be on the stand…
"Now Ms. Grayson, where were you on the night of September 8th?"
"I was in my apartment with Liz."
"And by Liz you mean your roommate, Elizabeth Green?"
"Yes," she said with a weak smile. The healers at St. Mungo's had done an excellent job, but Sophie was still a bit pale and weak. The best medicine for her at this point was rest. The stress of the trial was obviously not helping.
"Can you tell us what happened that caused the explosion and your injuries?"
"Liz and I were talking and we heard a knock at the door. It was James. He was angry about something, I don't remember what. He forced his way in and Liz stepped out of the way to get her wand, in case something happened. James and I fight a lot, so I wasn't concerned. But then I saw his eyes – they were scary, almost bloodthirsty. I backed up into the parlor and he started to mutter a curse so I pulled my wand. I think he was drunk so it hit my wand instead and it exploded and I guess that's when everything started falling. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital."
"Ms. Grayson, think carefully. Could you tell the court room what curse he used?"
"I don't know for sure, but it sounded like the – the Cruciatus curse." A murmur went through the room. The Unforgivable curses had become scarce since the defeat of Voldemort, but when they appeared, it usually meant something big.
"Thank you, Ms. Grayson." She turned to Malfoy and said, "Your witness." He nodded at her curtly and walked past without so much as a glance. She was confused. Did I dream it all up? She thought. Why is he ignoring me? It's probably better this way, though. That way I never have to deal with it again. And the looks stopped so I can focus this time. Hermione refocused on the situation and noticed Malfoy take Sophie's hand.
"Ms. Grayson, may I call you Sophie?" He smiled brilliantly for her.
"Yes," she said, smiling back.
"Can you repeat what you said about my client's eyes?"
She looked confused, but repeated, "They looked cold and bloodthirsty."
"Now do his eyes normally look that way when he's angry?"
"No, normally when we fight he doesn't even shout." She looked suddenly unsure of herself.
"So is it possible, Sophie," he said, his eyes staring into her, "that if one unforgivable curse was in use, so was another?" She looked at him confused and suddenly a little afraid. He put her hand down and faced the Wizengamot. "Ladies and gentlemen, I propose that, according to Ms. Grayson's testimony, my client was under the effects of the Imperious Curse."
Above the heated whispers, Hermione shouted, "Objection, Your Honor. The defense is using the witness's testimony to create his own speculations."
"Mr. Malfoy, please explain how this is not your own speculation," Leversly said, effectively hushing the court room.
"Ms. Grayson claimed that Mr. Edwards is normally a passive aggressive man when they fight. She also claimed that his eyes were cold and bloodthirsty. An Imperi's eyes are red and detached from the situation. It is entirely possible that Mr. Edwards, who would normally not perform such a curse, was not under his own power."
"But, Your Honor," Hermione began, "That is still speculation. Unless Mr. Malfoy cares to present the court with medical evidence –"
"Which I have, if I may proceed." Malfoy turned to his table and retrieved a file. "I present the court with Exhibit H – the medical records of Mr. James Edwards on the night of September 8th." He patted Sophie's hand and said, "I know this must be hard for you, but could you read the hi-lighted sections?"
"Mr. Edwards's psychiatric exam reveals a loss of memory and personality confusion. Symptoms may represent a weak form of the Imperius curse. Further diagnosis is inconclusive… So he might not have meant it?" Her eyes were hopeful. He squeezed her hand, "That is for this court to decide." He turned and said, "No further questions."
he sat down and stared at Sophie as she sat back down. His gaze didn't turn from her and Hermione realized that he was giving her the same look he had given her yesterday. Sophie turned to look at him and she blushed as his gaze penetrated hers. He smirked and turned away.
"Your Honor? May I approach?" Leversly nodded.
Hermione neared the bench and Malfoy followed closely behind. "I hate to make a habit of it, ma'am, but there's something I want to discuss with Mr. Malfoy before we call our next witness."
"A recess?"
"Yes, ma'am." Leversly raised her eyebrow.
"I hope this is actually pertains to the case."
"It does, Your Honor."
"Then this court is dismissed for a half an hour recess." She hit the gavel against the stand and talking began.
Hermione turned a cold stare to Malfoy. "Follow me," she said through gritted teeth. She turned and left, entering the hallways from the previous day. As soon as they were alone she whipped around and began, "How dare you!" Her voice was a harsh whisper.
"Whatever do you mean, Granger?" He smirked at her and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.
"You know bloody well what I mean, Malfoy," she muttered angrily.
"Granger, now what did I say about cursing?"
"Malfoy, I guess you're parents weren't always there for you, but really, didn't they teach you any manners?" His cool eyes flashed, but he regained composure swiftly. "You don't take one girl out and then flirt with another girl the next day, particularly when she's there."
"I thought it was just one date, Granger."
"It was, but –"
"You're jealous."
"I am not!" she retorted angrily. "I just want it to stop."
"Because I should be focusing on you," he baited.
"No!" she hissed. "I don't want my client wrapped up with the opposing counsel who just happens to be a git."
"Ouch, Granger. Somehow, I don't think it matters what you think."
"Make it stop."
"Then dinner again."
"Malfoy… it was a one time deal."
"Then you can't expect me not to move on."
"I can't be seen going out with you when I'm living with Ron!"
"Then don't be seen with me in public."
"I'm sorry?" she asked, completely lost.
"I'll cook. I'll buy all the ingredients and you can leave whenever you want."
"Why?"
"Why? Because you're a challenge, Granger."
"I'm sorry?"
"Like you said last night, I could have plenty of women. You present a challenge. You're not someone I could just have. I have to work for it."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay as in, I get it. But one more thing." He waited. "If we're going to make a habit of this, then I'm calling you Draco."
"I'll see you later, Hermione." He left her standing in the hallway. She stood still, her heart pounding. The way he said her name should not affect her. She took a deep breath realizing it was the first time he'd ever said it so it was something to be shocked about, but not excited. It was just Mal—Draco after all.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Draco stopped flirting with Sophie and the witness never showed up so the trial was postponed until the next day. Hermione went home to prepare for dinner with Draco. She tried to mentally prepare for the trial the next day, but all she could think about was dinner. She raided her closet again, knowing fully well that whatever she wore would still feel inferior in Malfoy Manor. She settled on a blouse and knee-length skirt. She put her hair up and painter her nails. It was nice to dress up for a date again, even if she wasn't interested. Having lived with Ron for seven years, routine had taken over romantic gestures.
She finished her makeup and sat down to wait. Just at seven, the doorbell rang. She answered it and found a – there was no other word for it – stunning Draco. He was wearing a silk gray shirt that accentuated his eyes and black linen pants, somehow managing to look both sophisticated and relaxed at the same time. Hermione took hold of herself and welcomed him in. She closed the door behind her.
"You look lovely," he said, his tone far too warm to be casual.
She swallowed. "Shall we?"
She took his arm and was whisked swiftly off to Malfoy Manor. When the whirlwind stopped, her mouth dropped. She was in the middle of a large foyer, really more like an atrium. There were marble columns and the floors were shining. He tossed his jacket on a Grecian-looking statue and began walking out of the atrium. She hurried after to avoid getting lost. The atrium led to a spacious dining room, but there was nothing set up for dinner. Instead he led her through another door into a smaller room. It was the kitchen, but unlike her own, it was perfectly clean. In the corner next to an open bay window was a small table with a red tablecloth. Two candles sat on the table, the only light other than the moon. He led her to the table and pulled out her chair, gesturing to it with one arm. She sat down as he took the seat across from her. He took a bottle of a wine without a label and began pouring it into their glasses.
Hermione was a bit shell-shocked. The grandeur of the house itself was astounding, but the fact that Draco both fit and seemed out of place was strange. "You – um –"
"At a loss for words, Hermione?" His eyes glimmered in the candlelight.
She swallowed, giving him what she hoped was a petulant look, and finished, "No house elves?"
"Ahh… They have the night off."
Hermione almost choked on her wine. "You gave them the night off?"
"Don't look so incredulous, Granger, it doesn't suit you." He took a sip of his wine.
"Hermione," she said, correcting him in order to collect her thoughts. He raised an eyebrow. "My name is Hermione, not Granger."
"Sorry, old habits die hard. You were saying?"
"Right. Why did you give them the night off?"
"You hate having them around, so I decided to be considerate. Hopefully without them the food came out alright." He put his glass down on the table and rose, walking toward a muggle-looking stove.
"You knew I didn't like the concept of House elves?" Hermione was actually a bit surprised.
He snorted. "Hermione, the whole school knew about SPEW – or, sorry, S. P. E. W."
"Oh. Right." She felt a bit embarrassed so changed the topic of discussion. "You cooked this yourself?"
He came over to the table with the main courses. They looked absolutely mouth-watering. "I dabble."
"Dabble?"
"I took a few muggle cooking courses. There's not much you can do in the wizarding world when you're believed to be a murderer."
"Oh…"
"Don't look so helpless, Granger. I've moved on from the war, so should you."
"Hermione," she corrected again.
"What the hell does it matter what I call you? I thought you were only doing this for Sophie, remember?" he said a little angrily.
"It matters because…" Her mind stopped itself from saying because I like you and instead said something almost as shocking. "Because we're friends now."
"Friends are we?" He didn't smirk. In fact he looked like he was almost losing his cool façade.
"I just thought…" she began helplessly.
"Hermione," he said softly, his voice no longer it's usual smooth tone, but gruff, "I reached out to you, and yet you still expect me to be the one to make things work. You really haven't changed at all, have you? Still the know-it-all from Hogwarts. The Boy Who Lived's personal encyclopedia." He sounded disgusted.
She started to feel indignant, but somewhere she knew he was right. She hadn't changed at all. Being with Ron didn't challenge her to be. She was still trying to prove she was right, still reaching for perfection. His words from the day before echoed in her mind. "You're right," she said softly, staring at the food getting cold before them.
"Sorry?"
She looked up. "I said you're right. I haven't changed. I – haven't needed to." Until now, she thought. He stared at her for a few moments, his eyes unreadable. Then he picked up his fork and broke off a piece of his dinner, some sort of pastry. He held it out before him, towards her mouth.
"Try a bit." She stared at him, offering his own fork to her and decided to take a chance. She opened her mouth slightly and tasted the delicious thing before her.
"You're an excellent cook, Draco."
"Thank you," he said with a small laugh. The tension had somehow been broken. She took a bite of her own and smiled. It was just as good.
"A bite for a bite?" He gave her a wry smile and opened his mouth slightly, waiting. She took a bit of her own meal, a delicious pasta and chicken combination, and moved it toward him. He took her hand, guiding the fork. When he pulled out the empty fork, he didn't let go of her hand. His breath was warm against her skin. Then, unexpectedly, he kissed her hand softly, before moving back to her own plate. Hermione blushed and could only stare at him. Her heartbeat picked up a little and when he looked at her his gaze was smoldering. She took another bite, a bit self-conscious, and felt a little warm. "Draco," she began, "Where's your toilet?"
"Out this door," he said pointing to one across the room, "through the drawing room to a door on the left, and through the study's door across from you. Try not to get lost," he said with a smirk.
"I'll try," she said smiling and blushing still. She stood and made her way across the room, feeling his gaze on her back the whole way.
She found her way fairly easily to the toilet, only a few detours into other immaculate rooms that appeared not to have been used in ages. She turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face and neck. She was not used to being flustered so easily. Normally it was Ron. But for some reason, her thoughts couldn't stay on Ron. The items around her were so foreign that Ron left her head as quickly as he had entered it. She dried her face and calmed herself. She had no reason to be afraid of him. And he had no right to make her feel anything. She was going to go out and enjoy the rest of her dinner. She opened the door and turned off the light, pausing to let her eyes readjust to the dark. She stepped out, but waited, afraid of breaking the shapeless objects surrounding her.
"Lost?" a soft seductive voice said in her ear. She turned and one of the shapes caught her mouth in a kiss. Every thought fell away as his mouth moved against hers.
"Draco…" she murmured into his lips and suddenly she found herself being pushed against a wall. His tongue swept into her mouth, exploring. His leg slid between hers and she couldn't help but pull him closer. His mouth was hot and she couldn't think anymore. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Ron's face appeared in her mind. She stopped kissing back and pushed against Draco's chest, falling into the wall. His eyes looked confused and a little hurt, but she couldn't see straight.
Looking down she said hurriedly, "I should go."
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"I didn't mean for that to happen. I – I should go." Without a second thought she ran from the hall toward what she thought was the atrium, tripping a few times but managing to apparate home.
The next morning Hermione didn't want to get out of bed. She had an obligation to Sophie to go, but that didn't seem like reason enough. Everything had been going so well, and then he had to walk into that courtroom. How in three days can my world be so different? she thought. She screamed into her pillow and got up, taking a long shower and having to rush to the court to be on time. She needed to talk to him.
As she walked in there was some light chatter and Sophie was sitting waiting for her. Instead she walked straight up to the defense table and tapped Draco on the shoulder. He turned, his face completely emotionless.
"I'm sorry. I panicked and you deserved better." His eyes seemed to question her. "Is there some way I can make it up to you?"
"Make me dinner," he said softly. "It's the least you can do to return the favor. Most of it was cold by the time I got back to it."
"Seven at my place, okay?" she asked, happy to do anything to feel a little less guilty.
He nodded. "I'll bring the wine." He smirked slightly and she smiled, glad things were going to be okay.
Hermione walked back over to her prosecution table and began speaking with Sophie about the day's events. Meanwhile she put up her hair, becoming Ms. Granger again.
Why did I agree to this? she thought. She had no idea how to cook. How can anyone make me feel so insecure and insignificant? She was running through the kitchen, trying not to burn things. It was no use. Everything was going terribly wrong. There was flour everywhere, including on her. Suddenly, the door bell rang and she glanced at the clock.
"Shit!" Somehow it was seven and dinner neither dinner nor she was anywhere near ready. She wiped her hands off and went to the door, preparing to tell him the date was canceled. She opened it and somehow he still managed to take her breath away. His shirt this time was mauve and made his skin look like cream. His pants looked like grey wool, but perfectly soft.
He looked at her and laughed softly. "Having a little trouble?" He held out a bag to her of something steaming.
Her mouth opened slightly. "How did you know?"
"I didn't take you for the cooking type." He walked past her, their arms brushing. She took the food into the kitchen and he followed her. "Why don't I get that and you clean up?" he offered.
"Thank you," she said a little embarrassed, but relieved he understood. She went through the bedroom and into the bathroom, closing the door quietly. He'd wait a few minutes while she showered. The hot water felt good and she almost lost track of time. She dried off quickly and slipped into a comfortable pair of jeans and a blouse. She put up her hair and walked out barefoot, feeling very at home. Dinner was set out in the living room before the fireplace. Draco had set a fire and laid cushions out for them to sit on. He sat on the floor waiting. "You really are trying to seduce me, aren't you?" she said with a laugh.
"That's the idea," he said lightly. Hermione swallowed, but conquered her fear and sat down next to him on the cushions.
"So do you eat on the floor often, Draco?"
He smiled. This time, though, it was a real smile, and it dazzled her. She couldn't look away. She had never seen anything quite like it. "No," he said. "I thought it would make this a little cozier."
Then she did something that surprised them both. She took her hand and cupped the side of his face, saying softly, "Don't hide anymore."
"I'm sorry?" he said, his voice shaking slightly. His eyes were uncertain.
"I've never seen you smile before. It's like you're hiding your true self from the world. People see a Malfoy's charm, but they never see the real you." She traced her hand along a scar on his face and his eyes closed. He shook a little, in that moment totally vulnerable. She slid closer and kissed him softly on the lips. His arms encircled her and she moved so that his head rested against her collarbone. He was breathing heavily. Then he moved back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Hermione." She smiled softly. She knew it was hard for him to be so emotional so she turned her attention to the food.
"So what are we eating tonight?"
He smiled. "A little bit of Italian from one of my other favorite restaurants." He lowered one arm, but kept the other around her, a soft reminder of their talk before. Hermione took a fork and began to eat hers. He watched her for a moment and then joined her. The food was delicious, as was the wine.
"Where is this wine from?" she asked at one point.
"Family owned. I have a vineyard on the property."
"Really?" she asked. He nodded. "Then why don't you sell it? You could make…oh. Forgot about your money for a minute."
"I don't think a girl has ever told me that before." She smiled and he smiled back. "Besides," he said, taking another sip, "who would buy Malfoy wine? They'd probably think I'd tainted it."
She sighed. "Will you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"You say you've moved on, but you still hold so much hostility. I mean, you're a respected lawyer and part of the wizarding community. No one is going to hold your name against you anymore."
He snorted. "You'd be surprised."
"Well, like who?" she demanded.
"Think about it, Hermione. If you'd seen me last week, you would have turned away in disgust. Think about how hard I had to win you over. Not everyone is going to give me a chance. I'm sick of having to prove myself to people. Who knows, though, maybe if Potter starts to think I'm not so bad, then maybe things will change." He downed the rest of his glass and poured another.
"It's not fair," she muttered.
"You can say that again."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?" he asked.
"For not giving you a chance the first time around. We could have been friends in school." She finished her glass and he poured another for her while he thought.
"This is a lot to ask, but could you talk to him?"
"To Harry?" He nodded. "I can try."
"Thank you. That's all I can ask for." The pair sat in silence, finishing their meals and several more glasses of wine. The fire was warm against her skin and Draco's arm hot on her back. His hand was gently brushing her side subconsciously. She took a breath and then finished a glass of wine in one gulp. She was beginning to feel very drunk.
"Draco?" she asked. He looked at her, the fire reflecting in his eyes. They seemed to swallow her up. "I don't remember what I was going to say."
"Then don't say anything," he said simply and kissed her. All of the passion in him seemed to pour out into her as he pulled her close to him; heat radiating from every inch of his skin. His tongue entered her mouth and she couldn't breath, but this time, she couldn't bear to stop him.
Hermione awoke with a throbbing headache. The sheets were soft against her skin and she sighed, pulling a pillow over her head. "Morning, love," a voice said next to her. A head slipped under the pillow next to her and encompassed her mouth in a breathtaking kiss. It felt so good.
She arched into him and his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Her addled brain was slowly trying to put the pieces together. One thought leapt out of the abyss and presented itself. This was Ron's bed. Ron was in Romania. This was NOT Ron. She pulled back abruptly and memories flooded in from the previous evening. The man before her was indeed not Ron. He was very Draco and very naked. She swallowed, suddenly afraid. "I love Ron," she whispered. His eyes changed imperceptibly, but to Hermione who had been watching them closely, it was the difference between night and day. He swallowed, staring at her, and then got up. He pulled on some clothes and left the room, not saying a word. Hermione quickly pulled the sheet around her and ran for the door. "Draco!" she called, but he was already gone. She collapsed on the couch, suddenly very alone and very unsure. "I love Ron," she whispered to herself, but the words didn't sound right anymore.
Hermione couldn't bring herself to get dressed so she flooed the court and said she was sick. The trial would be postponed til the next day. She slipped back into bed and laid there for a long time.
The trial ended without incident. Hermione won the case as she always did, but the joy was gone. He didn't respond to Draco anymore. Any attempts at communication with "Mr. Malfoy" were futile, too. He only discussed the case. His eyes shut her out. She went back to the routine, but found she couldn't lose herself in her work. She longed for the day when Ron returned and she could forget the whole sordid ordeal.
Two weeks later, Ron came home. Hermione ran to meet him and he picked her up and twirled her around. Here was the man she loved. She helped him unpack and together they sat before a fire looking through pictures. However, she couldn't get the evening with Dra – Malfoy out of her head. Things just weren't right anymore.
"What's wrong, love?" Ron asked one morning a week later. They were sitting at breakfast but Hermione couldn't eat. Everything was surreal.
"Have I changed at all, Ron?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean from school. I'm still the same person, aren't I?"
"I dunno, Hermione. I mean, does it matter?"
"Do I work too much, Ron?" she continued, ignoring his question.
"What's all this, Hermione?" Ron asked, getting concerned.
"Ron, please, answer the question!"
"You love your work. It makes you happy. Why should it matter?"
"Cause it does, Ron," she said, suddenly fighting tears. "I haven't changed in seven years, and then you go away –" the tears were pouring now. – "and I change and you don't even notice. Ron, what happened to us? I loved you. Now –"
"Loved?" Ron asked confused and angry.
"Ron, I can't do this anymore. I –" She stood up abruptly and picked up her wand. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I loved you for a long time, but I can't… not anymore." Without any further explanation, she apparated into Diagon Alley, the tears still streaming down her face. She hurried along down side streets, finally finding her way to a little office. "Gordon?" she asked.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Smithson asked.
"I'll be fine. Where's Draco's office?"
He pointed down a hallway. "Second on the left."
"Thank you, Gordon."
She almost ran to the door, forced it open, and shut it firmly behind her. She stayed by the door, unsure what to do. He looked up, his eyes were cold. "Can I help you, Granger?"
"Hermione," she said firmly. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "I don't care what you say, but it's Hermione now. What we shared defined that." She took a bold step forward towards the desk. He looked on coldly. "I know what I did to you was callous and harsh –" he laughed cruelly – "but I can't do this anymore. Ron came home and I couldn't do it. I couldn't pretend to be the same person anymore because you changed me, you." She took another step and put both hands on his desk. "You saw me for who I really was. You challenged me, you – you" she covered her face and continued, "you showed me what it felt like to have someone really care about what I thought again." She dropped her hands. "For what it's worth, I love you. I know things aren't ever going to be the same, but I love you." She breathed heavily, the tears falling again, and turned to leave. She put her hand on the knob to go.
"No they're not," he said.
"What?" she said, turning. Draco stood up and walked over to her. "Things will never be the same. I…" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked into her eyes intensely. The silver storms seemed about to break past his cool exterior. "You were the challenge, Hermione. You were the great challenge. You made me see myself. You were the first person in a long time to truly see me. Thank you," he finished softly.
"It's not too late," Hermione said.
"Too late for what?" Draco answered, beginning to walk back to his desk.
Hermione grabbed his arm and he turned, the pain in his eyes finally visible. "I left him."
"What?"
"I told Ron that I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't look at him without thinking of you." Her hand slid to hold his. She took a step forward.
"Hermione," Draco said warningly.
"No," she said. "Don't you dare."
"Dare do what?"
"Dare tell me it won't work. You don't have any right to back out simply because you're scared. You wanted a challenge, now take it."
He smiled at her, one of his real smiles again, and pulled her close. Tears started to fall from his eyes, the first she had ever seen him cry. His hands cupped her face, wiping the tears away. "You really can put up an argument. No wonder you're a lawyer."
She laughed, slipping her arms through his. "Tell me something I don't know."
He grinned and whispered as he kissed her, "I love you, too."
The Beginning