Chapter Two
Hermione stood in the doorway with her mouth slightly open, gaping in a rather uncouth fashion at the vaguely familiar surroundings, effectively blocking the entrance to the house.
"Excuse me," said the elf acting as the doorman, "but if the young Miss would please continue up the stairs, the guests are convened in the ballroom..." the elf continued as he gently nudged her forward with one tiny hand on the small of her back.
Dazedly, she ambled forward, crossed the large foyer and slowly began to ascend the marble staircase. On her way up, she caught a glimpse of a few gilt-framed portraits of haughty-looking Malfoy ancestors who were silently sneering down at the proceedings.
When she finally made it to the top, she took several deep breaths to try to steady her nerves. Summoning all her Gryffindor courage, she strode into the ballroom with pulse racing, palms sweating and head held high. She nearly lost her breath all over again however, as she took in the splendid room before her. Though she visited the Manor once before, she had never seen this room. It was larger by far than any she had ever seen. She guessed that even the great hall at Hogwarts could fit comfortably inside this room several times over. The majority of the walls were painted white and covered with nearly floor to ceiling baroque, gilt-framed mirrors that reflected the light from the candles and the crystal chandeliers, throwing the room into a soft golden glow. The back wall was made up almost entirely of windows and huge French doors that lead out onto a terrace lit with fairy lights, overlooking the lake. She marveled at the highly polished wood floors with their ornate parquet inlays, the thick, rich drapery dressing the windows and doors and the small gold, glass-top café style tables that were sprinkled throughout the room. It was truly a magnificent sight.
Extending her observations to take in the people in the room, she was surprised by the sheer number of guests. There had to be at least three hundred witches and wizards assembled there, with more arriving in droves every minute, and it was still early. She couldn't believe that this many people would turn out to support house elf rights. Before she could get too excited about the prospects however, she began to notice that there were far more witches than wizards in attendance, several of whom seemed to be clumped around something or perhaps someone in the center of the room and a sinking feeling began to settle in her stomach.
Momentarily diverted by floating tray of champagne that turned out to be manned by yet another tuxedo clad house elf, she reached for a glass and began circling the room, avoiding the large group of witches in the center, in search of a familiar face. As she walked around the perimeter of the ballroom she recognized several of her schoolmates from Hogwarts, but most all were Slytherins and none had been particularly friendly to her in school. She saw a few people that she recognized by face and not by name from the Ministry, but no one that she knew well enough to talk to. Just as she was about to give up hope entirely, she caught sight of a familiar blond-haired someone walking towards her.
"Hello Hermione," the blonde said, smiling.
"Luna!" Hermione cried in surprise and delight. "I didn't expect to see you here!"
"I could say the same for you," Luna replied. "You look fabulous Hermione."
"Thank you, so do you. I can't take any of the credit myself though, this is all Ginny's doing," she said, indicating her dress and neatly styled coiffure.
The blond smiled knowingly.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked her friend.
"I got an invite from my publisher. Since I'm writing about rare magical creatures she thought it would be a good idea for me to mingle with some people who might interested in the book or better yet, interested in funding another research expedition," said Luna with a sly smile. "What brings you here?"
"I was forced into coming by my boss. Apparently someone at the party is donating a huge sum of money to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and I am the lucky designated representative from the Ministry this evening," she said glumly.
"That's great 'Mione. Any idea who the big donor is?" Luna inquired with interest, not picking up on the sarcasm.
"No idea," Hermione confessed. "I just hope that whoever they are, they make their donation and do it quickly so that I can get out of here. I hate these sorts of things."
"Why Miss Granger," said a cool drawling voice from behind her that caused her spine to stiffen, "you shouldn't speak so loudly. I'm sure you wouldn't want your anonymous donor to accidentally overhear you. That would be terribly rude."
"I don't see why you should care Malfoy," Hermione snapped as she turned to face him, "we all know you've never given a damn about house elves or anyone else besides yourself for that matter."
"On the contrary Miss Granger," he said as he swiftly captured her hand and brought it up to his lips for a chaste kiss, "I care a great deal."
Oh Holy Merlin no, not him – anyone but him, she thought desperately, as a chill settled down her spine and her stomach dropped so fast she wouldn't have been surprised to see it splattered on the floor in front of her.
When he released her hand their eyes locked briefly and she cursed herself for the fluttering feelings that stirred in the puddle that was now her stomach. He was just as beautiful as she remembered; tall and broad shouldered with a lean muscular frame; flawless pale skin that looked impossibly smooth as though it had been carved from stone; light blond hair that was no longer slicked back and plastered against his head, but cut short in the back and on the sides and left longer on top so that it framed his angular patrician features in a very flattering way. As ever, his most striking feature was by far his storm cloud gray eyes.
Tearing her gaze away from him and mentally slapping herself for staring so openly, she resumed her attack on his character.
"You?" she asked, incredulous. "You're hosting this party? You're the anonymous donor? I just assumed it was your parents, after all they…."
"No," he drawled, interrupting her before she could get in another good insult, "mother and father are enjoying their retirement in Greece far too much to concern themselves with the goings on in wizarding Britain," he said, flashing his trademark smirk, "and I have no idea who your mystery donor is. How could I when they wish to remain anonymous?" he asked innocently.
"Just sod off Malfoy," Hermione said, turning around only to find that Luna had abandoned her.
"That's what you always used to say," he mused. "Now have another glass of champagne and try to pretend that you're having a good time," he added as he took her arm and led her out onto the terrace.
"That's what you always used to say," Hermione retorted, allowing him to lead her outside, albeit reluctantly. She waited until they were out on the terrace and away from prying eyes before wrenching her arm from him. She was technically on the job and didn't want to cause a scene.
"Must you always be so difficult?" Draco asked politely, handing her a fresh flute of champagne.
"Must you always be such a prat?" Hermione fumed in frustration, grabbing the glass from him and downing it in one.
"Now, now Hermione, let's not start our first conversation in five years with a quarrel," he said in a patronizingly unruffled tone, taking her empty glass from her and setting it on a table by the door.
"Why not? It's how we ended the last one!" she huffed as she stalked away from him to the other side of the terrace.
"Well if someone would've listened to me instead of jumping to the wrong conclusions without allowing me the opportunity to defend myself, then maybe we wouldn't have fought so much!" Draco said in a hissed whisper.
Hermione was pleased to see that his hackles finally seemed to be raised.
"Is that so? Well maybe if someone hadn't been so terrified of disappointing his parents then someone wouldn't have run off and married some old French-"
"You know full well that that marriage contract was signed before I came of age," Draco snapped, effectively cutting her off. "My parents practically sold me to that old bint. The contract was magically binding and there was nothing I could've done about it!" Draco replied angrily, louder this time.
"All I know is that you were too afraid to tell your parents the truth about us and you blindly went along with an arranged marriage," she said, trying desperately to hide the hurt in her voice. "I see that you're taking her death rather well. Dead two months and you're already throwing a party? By the looks of it half the single witches in Britain are in attendance," she said as snidely as possible.
"First of all, my wife was a heinous bitch and everyone knows it. I'm not sorry she's dead, may she rot in hell…"
"Draco!" Hermione gasped in surprise at his bluntness.
"And second of all," he said, ignoring her outburst, "jealous much?"
His smirk should be illegal, Hermione thought as she glared daggers at him.
"What on earth makes you think I'm jealous, Malfoy?" she asked lightly, emphasizing the use of his surname.
"Simple, Hermione," he practically purred her name and she had to fight the weakness in her knees. "You're still in love with me."
"WHAT?" Hermione spluttered. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Now if you'll excuse me…" she said as she tried to make her escape.
"If you're so over me then why have you never married?" Draco taunted with a triumphant grin, effectively stopping her in her tracks.
"I could have," Hermione lied. "Dozens of times."
"But you didn't."
"What difference does that make? It doesn't change the fact that I think you're a selfish prat." she said dismissively, turning her back on him once more as she looked out over the moonlit grounds.
"If I could, I would change a great many things," he said as he slowly stalked toward her causing her to jump in fright and back into the stone balustrade that surrounded the terrace.
"Well you can't and you've missed your chance so leave me alone," she said nervously. Glancing over the balustrade she tried to estimate how far she was from the ground in the event that he came any closer and she was forced to jump to her death.
He moved closer still.
"That would be a terrible pity if it were true," he said quietly. He was so close now she could smell his cologne and feel his breath against her cheek. She tried to lean away from him but his hulking form blocked any possible means of escape. She was completely trapped. Her brain ceased to function and his commanding presence rendered her speechless.
"You are absolutely stunning Hermione. You took my breath away the moment you set foot in the room. I've always loved how you look in Slytherin green. I'm glad you remembered," he said softly as he brushed an errant curl from her face.
"This dress isn't even mine. I borrowed it from Ginny," she said, trying to keep the conversation as casual as possible when he was in such close proximity.
"Be sure to thank her for me," he breathed against the shell of her ear.
This was too much. She couldn't handle anymore.
"Get off me!" She tried to shove him away from her, but he was a wall of solid muscle and impossible to budge. She felt corned now and that was not a feeling Hermione enjoyed as it caused her ire to rise. "You are such an insufferable git!" she shouted as she gave him another almighty push.
"And you are so sexy when you get angry. Now I remember why I loved to pick fights with you so often," he said lightly as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them down with one hand, placing the other securely around her waist and flashing her yet another smirk.
She struggled against him for another moment, which only served to draw their bodies closer together and after a few more fruitless shoves, Hermione felt the last of her resolve ebbing away. She lost herself completely as his familiar scent flooded her senses and his firm, unyielding body pressed up against hers, causing electricity to shoot down her spine and a tingling warmth to spread through her stomach and pool between her thighs. She looked up into his fathomless, molten silver orbs just in time to see him lowering his lips slowly to hers. Her heart felt as though it was about to burst through her chest and she swallowed in nervous anticipation. He continued his painfully slow decent when finally his lips were merely a hairsbreadth away from hers and…
"Draco! There you are!" called a shrill voice that Hermione recognized in an instant.
Draco immediately stood to his full height, released her wrists and turned to face the intruder.
"Impeccable timing as usual Pansy," he drawled, shooting her a scathing look.
"I was worried about you," she cooed. "I wondered what you were doing out here all alone and- What's she doing here?" Pansy snarled, spying Hermione for the first time.
"Not that it's any of your business Pansy, but Hermione and I were just catching up. You know, for old time's sake," he said without missing a beat.
Hermione was still trying to recover from her near heart attack as she hurriedly moved away from him, towards the house.
"It was good to see you again Malfoy. I'm sorry for your loss. I've got to be going now."
She said all of this very quickly before darting inside and snaking her way through the crowded ballroom and down the stairs, not stopping to say goodbye to Luna or collect her wrap on the way to the door. She practically sprinted to the front gate, making a mental note to ask Ginny to teach her the spell she had used on the high heels when they next saw one another. When she finally reached the gate and was safely outside the boundary of the Manor grounds she apparated away.
