~.~.~

Yes, there was no mistake now as Draco came within feet of her: it was definitely Granger wearing that foppish garb. He would know her anywhere.

That was not a ridiculous brag either, but fact.

For seven years he'd played it cool, watched her and listened to her, had learned her by observation and contemplation all to understand better what made her tick. He'd memorised every line and curve of her features, the sounds she made when she was happy or sad or frustrated, and he knew her expressions with an intimacy that would astound her were she to ever find out. He'd spent hours studying her as a child when no one was the wiser, curious as to how someone from such low birth could be so astoundingly powerful, so incredibly insightful, and so amazingly loyal to those who were, really, quite undeserving of it.

She was pretty and pretty damned clever, and he'd always admired that particular combination in a female.

...And then there had been that intense snogging session in that cupboard on Valentine's night during their seventh year's masquerade ball's after-party. Ten minutes of heaven he'd never been able to forget.

"Take the mask off. I can't see you."

"You first."

Neither of them had been brave enough to do so then, despite the fact they'd both known the identity of the other person. That knowledge hadn't stopped them from enjoying the moment, though. The alcohol had definitely paved the way for them both to lower their inhibitions that night. She'd been soft and sweet, trembling in his arms at first, and he'd known by her inexpert movements, that he'd been her first kiss. By the time Weasley had banged on the door to demand they come out ten minutes later, they'd had half their clothes off, his fingers were up inside her, and she was coming on them and moaning into his mouth.

It was fair to say that by the time the war had finally broken out just a few months later, he was already quite madly in love with her.

Now here she was, standing in the middle of hell and tempting the Devil to find her, but why?

Closing the final distance between them had his heart pounding and his cock tightening. He hadn't seen her in years, and here she was before him! If only the situation was different... "Don't react," he hissed under his breath as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the room. "Put your wand away, Granger."

At first, her eyes went wide in surprise, then wider in recognition of him. She hadn't seen him in four years, since the outbreak of the war, and time had certainly changed them both. She looked leaner, smaller than he remembered, but that could be because of the costume and the waif-like haircut. Whereas he... He'd bulked up, grown into his wide shoulders and long legs. His hair had grown out, as long as his father's, although he preferred to tie it back in a thong at the nape of his neck, leaving the long, straight fringe to fall across half his face. To many daughters of his father's Death Eater-loyal friends, he was considered handsome—still sharp-angled and pale skinned, saturnine even, but the elfish look was in, apparently. He'd had no problems acquiring lovers over the last four years, although they were primarily used for the information they tended to give up after sex.

He wondered if she'd notice him again as a woman notices a man, or would she revert to those days before the cupboard incident and see him only the trumped-up prat she'd known as a child?

"Smile like we're old friends and nod like I'm talking to you," he instructed.

Once she got over her initial shock, Granger was astute enough to recognise that she'd put them both in danger if she didn't play along. She did as he asked, pasting a fake smile on her lips and dully nodding.

"Out the doors to your right, down the corridor. Sixth door on the left." He put a casual hand on her arm to guide her out the door with him, appearing to be in animated conversation with her. His smile wasn't faked, though. A part of him wanted to wring her neck for appearing here tonight, but the truth was he was glad to see her again. It had been hard for him to keep up the pretense this long, and he'd begun to tire of it. It had been a long war and the memories of her had begun to fade, replaced with the horrors. Being in front of her again re-energized him. "We can talk there."

"I'm trusting you," she replied. The tip of her wand poked him in the side, hidden by his arm as he guided her out. "But I'll happily blast you into next week if you try anything."

He chuckled, genuinely pleased to note the war hadn't killed any of the Gryffindor fire in her belly.

"Still a vicious harpy, I see."

The smile she gave him then was all teeth and as vicious as a Rattlesnake's. "Consider me your personal Augurey instead."

Controlling his laughter was out of the question then. "Pet, I always have."

As they passed through the doors and moved into the house itself, he dared to wrap his arm around her waist, to give the appearance as if they were going someplace more private for a tête-à-tête...which was actually the truth of the matter, in this case. He relied upon his well-earned reputation as a libertine, however, to give the impression to anyone who might be watching that it was a sexual encounter they sought, rather than a meeting of the minds.

Although, a part of him rather hoped it might be the former as well.

~.~.~

How dare he manhandle her like this!

Alright, it was helping her escape potential capture, if anyone in the ballroom happened to have recognised her, and yes, it had given her precisely the access to the individual she'd come to find, too. Still, did he have to put those long, attractive hands on her, and smell so enticing, or look so...grown up and handsome?

Did he have to make her feel like a foolish, little girl meeting her first crush again after so long?

They entered the room he'd indicated, and a beat after the door had closed behind them, it locked on its own and she felt magic released into the airs, sinking into the walls, ceiling, and floor to ensure the room was completely Silenced for their coming conversation. The candles spaced throughout in the room were suddenly ablaze, banishing the darkness.

Jerking away from her childhood nemesis, she spun and pointed her wand at his sharp, aristocratic nose. "Your wand. Now."

Slowly, he divested his wand from a hidden hip holster, and then flipped it around, presenting her with the handle. "I am now at your disposal, love. Be gentle," he said with a cheeky grin.

The moment her fingers wrapped around his wand, it gave her magical aura a deliberate, leisurely stroke that had her breaking out in goose bumps and shivering. Then, it seemed to hum in her hand, as if what it found was to its liking, before falling silent. She stared at it, shocked.

"Your wand...it just..."

"What?" he prompted when she stalled for the right word.

Feeling the blood rush to her cheeks in mortification, she quickly decided it best to dismiss the issue. There was no way she was admitting to having been felt-up by Malfoy's wand. "Nothing." Her own wand arm straightened as she reacquired her target. "Now, answer me a question to prove you are who you appear to be."

His eyebrows shot into his hairline and his smirk widened, as if he found her security attempts to be amusing. "What do you want to know, exactly? There are so many possible ways we could take this inquisition of yours."

His reply had her jaw dropping to the floor.

Was he flirting with her?

She gave him a once-over, and it was only then that she really took notice of his costume. "Are you dressed like a...a fancy pirate?" she asked, only just noticing the entire get-up. Black velvet long coat, black breeches, snowy-white shirt with ruffles, dark leather bandolier and belt, knee-high leather buccaneer boots. Black leather mask across his face, leaving his mouth exposed. No sword at his hip or hat on his head, though. Still, over all he looked rather dashing, dangerous...knicker-melting. "It suits you."

He seemed interested in the turn of her thoughts. "Oh?" He glanced at himself, then back at her. "Do tell. How sexy do I really look, Granger? Don't hold back."

Fine, if he really wanted to play... "The costume is a good fit for you, Malfoy, I don't deny it...but then everyone knows pirates are opportunists, narcissists, and irredeemable scoundrels."

His lips twitched with amusement.

Had he always had that dimple in his left cheek?

"If it seems I'm that way, then it's for a good reason, pet," he teased, but there was a darker gleam in his eye as he said it. He stepped in close enough for the tip of her wand to press into the centre of his chest and then he leaned forward until his mouth was next to her ear. "Masks aren't only for the ballroom. Sometimes they're for a person's protection, too. You know that as well as I do, don't you, Granger?"

Jesus, he was too close...brought up too many memories of that one time she'd allowed herself to be drawn in and to drop all inhibitions. He was making her pant, for Godric's sake!

"Regardless, you can't change what's underneath them," she countered, trying to hold the line against the dangerous attraction she felt. It wouldn't be wise to fall back under his spell, especially as she didn't know his real loyalties. Obviously, he wasn't an enemy, as evident by him passing her his wand, but that didn't mean he wouldn't turn on her like snakes often did. "Tigers and zebras can't change their stripes. Sharks don't stop swimming. Scorpions always sting. What you see is what you get."

He snorted and pulled back, giving her some room to breathe.

"Is that so?" he challenged her. "Try telling that to the chameleon."

His grey eyes twinkled with mischief once more.

She sighed. "You're still impossibly irritating."

He grinned. "And you're still in denial about wanting me. Well, well, my pretty pet, aren't we quite the pair?" Clapping his hands together, he seemed positively delighted at the thought. "Moving on...time to ask me your Order's 'safe' question, Granger. For safety's sake." Reaching out, he stroked a playful finger down her cheek. "Then it'll be my turn to get some answers from you."

To her dismay, her body reacted to his touch: her heart sped up, and things low in her belly went tight and hot. Suddenly, Hermione was very much aware that this Draco Malfoy was the same as the one from the cupboard, not the one she remembered as a child, before that particular incident.

This was the man to whom she'd given her first kiss, first touches...first orgasm.

Oh, Merlin, what had Severus gotten her into this time?

TO BE CONTINUED...