She tried valiantly to ignore the fact that the entire world thought she was in an intimate relationship with Draco Malfoy. She went shopping. It was for muggle clothes in muggle stores, but still she couldn't shake the paranoid feeling that everyone was watching her. As Draco's bold behavior had proven, there was someone following her around in the hopes of getting incriminating photographs.

Buying some new clothes made her feel a bit better, especially because they looked amazing on her. Of course, pictures of her looking fashionable and amazing would never appear in Witch Weekly. After two hours she sat down at a café and ordered an espresso. Her phone seemed to be burning a hole in her pocket.

At last she gave up and took it out. If that mysterious phone number from last night was either Malfoy, she'd be able to properly berate them. Never mind planning a way to diffuse the situation…

Taking a deep breath, she dialed. There was still the possibility that it was one of her friends from home, in which case she'd have a nice catch up conversation and leave it at that. The phone rang once, twice, three times, four…and then went to voicemail.

It was him. Lucius Malfoy's voice calmly informed her that he wasn't available and that she could leave a detailed message and he'd return her call as soon as possible. She was so stunned listening to the recorded message that she didn't even realize it was over and it had beeped. It was recording her.

"You!" was all she said, simultaneously ending the call. The world didn't make any sense. Draco Malfoy had assisted her in one of her worst moments. His father was more of a bloody muggle than she was. And now one had kissed her and the other was sending her massively inappropriate yet comforting messages?

Hermione moaned out loud. This was too confusing! The waiter came over a moment later and gave her an odd look as he set down another espresso.

"Everything all right, dear?"

"As a matter of fact, it's not."

"Man troubles?" he asked companionably.

"You have no idea."

"Try me," he grinned.

Hermione took a deep breath. "My husband cheated on me three days ago, yesterday my former worst enemy kissed me and I sort of liked it and now everyone thinks I've left my husband for him, and I think my former worst enemy's father is flirting with me via text message."

The waiter blinked and then appeared impressed. "My dear," he said, picking up her empty cup, "aside from the cheating, I wish I had your problems."

She had just left the café when Lucius called her back. She was feeling jittery from the two espressos and muttered a brief prayer before answering. This would probably not be her finest hour.

"Hello."

"That was quite the eloquent message you left."

Ignoring his sarcasm, she demanded, "Did you tell Draco to kiss me?"

"No." He paused. "I wasn't aware that he did that." Another pause. Her eyes widened – did this bother him? Of course it did, he probably didn't want his son kissing anyone that wasn't a pureblood. That had to be it. He could care less, otherwise, because he certainly had no interest in her. "He is a big boy now, very capable of his own plotting," he went on. "Let me guess. Witch Weekly?"

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Front and center."

"That proves that someone is following you and trying to get incriminating pictures. That's probably all he was trying to do."

"Oh, come on, like the two of you don't get a sick enjoyment out of knowing that Harry and half the Weasleys would rather hang themselves than see me with Draco!"

"I imagine it is making your wayward husband quite jealous," was all he said in response.

"He's got no right to be jealous!" she exclaimed just a tad too loudly. Several people on the street gave her strange looks.

"Certainly not," Lucius agreed.

"Well, this can't…Draco has to…there has to be some damage control." Hermione felt a headache building behind her right eye. Was she really on the phone negotiating with Lucius Malfoy?

"You don't need damage control if there isn't any damage."

"Oh, believe me, there's damage."

He sighed, a dramatic, long-suffering thing. "Fine. Draco will be here around six o'clock. Come to my flat and we'll discuss a strategy."

"Ok. Where…?"

"Ah yes, I forget you were intoxicated when you last made the trip. It's--" he stopped abruptly, "bloody hell, it's Franz. That man…I'll text you."

The dial tone was buzzing in her ear before she even realized that he hung up. Then she jumped when the phone vibrated against the side of her head. If people weren't looking at her before, they definitely were now. Damn him!

Just for that, she was going to go early. It was a little after four now. If she walked she would be there in half an hour. It was nice enough that she could, and her bags weren't so heavy that it would be uncomfortable. She felt no shame whatsoever in using him for his tv. She had a lot of Footballer's Wives to catch up on, after all.

He didn't seem as surprised by her early arrival as she'd hoped. In fact, she was the one that was more surprised, because she was greeted enthusiastically by two dogs. They were large with gleaming grey coats and blue eyes. What were they called? Ah yes, Weimaraners. They were beautiful.

Lucius nudged one of the eager dogs aside with a gentle prod of his foot. "It's not six," he said pointedly.

"No, it isn't," she agreed.

He stared at her impassively for a moment and then shrugged. "Gives me an excuse to end the day early. If I have to talk to Franz one more time, I may board a plane to Switzerland and kill him."

"That bad?"

"One of his employees embezzled something like 600,000 euros from his company, and the company's not doing well as it is."

"Ouch," Hermione said, smiling as the dogs sniffed her frantically, their stubs of tails wagging. It was so strange to be having a polite, everyday sort of conversation with him.

"Yes. Ouch." At last he stood aside to let her in. "The dogs are Oberon and Titania."

Hermione smiled at the pretentious names. "Were they here yesterday?" she asked. There had been no trace of any pets that she remembered, but she hadn't exactly gone exploring.

"Yes, but they were in their playroom. Draco created it." He turned, leaving her to close the door. The dogs nearly tripped over themselves to follow him. "I'll show you," he said over his shoulder.

Once inside the playroom, she had to give Draco credit; this was an excellent piece of magic. He had created an outdoor menagerie for the two dogs in one of the spare rooms. It was a tremendous field complete with its own weather; bright sun, fluffy clouds, the perfect temperature, and a slight breeze. Dog toys and bones were scattered in the grass and self-filling water bowls gleamed in the sun. There was also a small, shaded lean-to with plush cushions in it if the dogs needed to nap. She wondered if it had a night cycle and the dogs slept in here, or if they slept with Lucius. Seriously, why did her mind keep returning to his bed? She was sure Freud would have something to say about it, but screw him, he was dead.

"This is really impressive," she admitted. It was the perfect spring day inside and in spite of her misery and confusion, her spirits were lifted. Watching the dogs gambol around and fight over tattered toys was enough for that.

He only nodded in response. Hermione looked up from petting Oberon and decided to press her luck. "If you don't mind me asking, how come you live here instead of at your Manor?"

Titania was apparently jealous of her companion's attention and butted up against Lucius. Absently, he stroked the dog's head. He didn't answer for a long minute and she thought that maybe she had pushed too far, too fast. But then he said,

"It's easier to live without magic when you aren't surrounded by it all the time. You forget that you're missing something."

Though he had forsworn work, he disappeared into the office after that odd moment of honesty. Hermione did as she had planned and planted herself in front of the telly. She was halfway through another episode of her favorite guilty pleasure when she sensed him standing behind the couch. She glanced up; he was watching the screen intently. At present, two of the actresses were snorting cocaine in a bathroom stall.

"I wouldn't think you would watch something like this," he said.

"Ditto," she returned.

"It's full of promiscuity and backstabbing." A smirk graced his features. "What's not to like?"

"Well, you two are regular pals, aren't you?" Draco asked when he arrived and found them sitting on the same couch watching Footballer's Wives.

"Quiet," Hermione said. "It's the last episode."

Draco snorted and went into the kitchen to look for something. "Father, what's for dinner?"

"Whatever we order."

"Indian?"

Lucius looked at her and it took her a moment to realize he was expecting a yes or no.

"Oh. That's fine."

So there she was, eating take-out Indian food with the two blonde fools.

"The problem is this," she said. "During the Triwizard Tournament I figured out that Rita Skeeter, newswoman extraordinaire, was an unregistered animagus. She could take the form of a ladybug and that's how she was getting all her stories. A lot of those stories revolved around me and how I was a tart."

Draco inhaled too quickly and coughed. "She obviously didn't know you very well. Most tarts don't spend their evenings in the library."

"I doubt you ever set foot in that library your entire seven years," she shot back. "What were you doing that was so worthwhile?"

Lucius looked back and forth between them. "Play nicely, children," he remarked mildly.

"Anyway," Hermione went on, "once I figured it out I captured her. I kept her in a jar for about eight months."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Lucius said, "but that would be kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment."

She shrugged. It was, but at the time it had seemed appropriate.

"And I thought getting punched in the face was bad," Draco muttered. He set his fork down. "Didn't know you had it in you, Granger."

"An excellent vengeance, but it is easy to see where her motivation in this latest campaign comes from," Lucius said.

"Exactly. And she admitted she was an animagus two years ago, so I have nothing to blackmail her with to keep her under control."

Draco was shaking his head in disbelief. "You play dirty, Granger."

"Yes, it's not behavior that's very becoming of a Gryffindor," Lucius agreed. He was smirking behind his hand again.

"Please," she said dismissively. "The woman is a ruiner of lives."

Silence met her declaration and lasted until Lucius said, "We know that well enough."

She looked up. Lucius's smirk was gone. Draco, too, appeared much more serious. A look passed between them.

"We have our own bone to pick with Ms. Skeeter, for lack of better terminology," Lucius started. "Narcissa and I made the mistake of picking a slow week to get divorced."

Hermione's eyes widened. So that was the other part of the puzzle, the other reason he was out here – he wasn't married anymore. She was sure the Manor was waiting for him when he got his wand back, but for now, there was nothing to keep him there.

"Everything was amicable. Agreements were made, things were settled…all that had to be done was a few trips to court. Well, that wasn't good enough for Ms. Skeeter. She seized onto it like a vulture to a carcass. Even though we both stated the reason for divorce as irreconcilable differences, she proceeded to fabricate sensational stories."

"It was ridiculous," Draco said darkly. "But it was still at that point where people would believe anything they were told about us."

"About me," Lucius corrected.

"Yes, well, we needn't go into details. People ate up the things she wrote. It didn't matter that my mother told them over and over that none of it was true. No one listened. Even the Wizengamot believed it. They tried to overturn his trial and retry him."

"That's illegal!"

"Yes, we know," Lucius said, again in that curiously mild tone.

Hermione was horrified. "And she didn't care at all, did she?"

"No. As it was, the Wizengamot amended their ruling and restricted him to the Manor."

"It was house arrest," Lucius said. "But with no house elves, no visitors, no magical objects of any significant power, no potions, nothing I could presumably use to harm anyone. And then it was a real arrest, when I left the Manor to go to my own divorce hearing."

A month ago she would have thought that all of it served him right. Now it made her terribly angry; Rita Skeeter truly had no soul. It didn't matter that in those days Lucius had been a real bastard. He had already given up his wand, and no matter how comfortable he seemed without it, she knew it had been an incredibly difficult thing to do. He had been ill-prepared for the results of the war and its fallout. Every moment of those first few years had probably been a kind of torture to him, especially since his learning had to be done with everyone watching. Growth and change were never easy, and he'd done both, that much was obvious. So, to be hated, rendered a squib, then have to deal with a divorce, and during all that, to have a heartless crackpot kick him while he was down for her own amusement…

"What happened?" Hermione asked softly.

"I spent three weeks in Azkaban. They were threatening the Dementor's Kiss. Narcissa finally had to go on the record under the influence of Veritaserum for them to believe that Skeeter was lying. Many of the people in the Wizengamot still had a vendetta…Narcissa said that they humiliated her." Lucius sighed. "But it worked. I was released, most of the restrictions were revoked, and the divorce went through."

"And nothing happened to Rita Skeeter at all," Hermione finished.

"Correct," Draco nodded. "They didn't even print a retraction, so most people still believe her rubbish. And given her propensity for making things up, I'm not 100 percent convinced that Weasley cheated on you."

Hermione's entire body was tense. She was infuriated. "That….that bitch."

"Our sentiments exactly."

Silence reigned. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she chewed a piece of naan. Clearing her throat, she stated, "I believe this is the part where we form an unholy alliance hell bent on bringing down Rita Skeeter."

Draco was looking at her with an expression of muted disbelief. Lucius smiled.

"You'll encounter no resistance from us."

She felt surprisingly comfortable plotting with them. She felt surprisingly comfortable with them, period. Slowly her brain was adjusting to the fact that she was where she was and with whom she was with. It felt good; it brought a strange sort of closure to a part of her life that she didn't like to visit. Everything really had returned to normal, or, in the case of Lucius, become normal for the first time.

The two of them had broken out a bottle of wine. She respectfully declined, which they found highly amusing.

"I can't imagine why you wouldn't want some," Draco goaded.

"Yes, it's a very good vintage," Lucius agreed.

"I'm all right with the mango lassi, thanks," she replied queasily. Even the smell of the wine was evoking bad memories.

"All right," Lucius said, swirling the wine in his glass, "we've got most of the facts. Now we need a course of action."

"Before that, have you gotten any sense of the reaction to the pictures?" Draco asked. "What I mean is, is Skeeter getting what she wants out of this?"

"I'm not sure. All the letters I got so far actually seemed quite positive."

"Really?" Draco clearly had not expected this. Lucius's brow had creased slightly; she could tell that he was pondering exactly what that meant.

"Well, Witch Weekly's readership is primarily female. So I've definitely got some sympathy from other women whose boyfriends or husbands have cheated on them."

"And you, my offspring, are attractive and slightly dangerous," Lucius nodded. They both turned to look at him like he'd lost his mind. "What?" he demanded. "It's true. You may be immune, Ms. Granger, but the majority of women are like hummingbirds to nectar with that kind of man."

"So they like me because I'm the wronged wife having an empowering fling," Hermione stated, unable to keep the smile off her face, "and they like Draco because he's attractive and dangerous?"

"Hey, why is that a question?" Draco pouted.

"Perhaps I'm not explaining myself well. Draco is a man with a past that is dark and questionable, but also a man who redeemed himself and showed himself capable of great compassion and heroics. All the women reading that magazine know that."

"Oh my God, Dad," Draco muttered, sinking low in his seat. He looked so uncomfortable that Hermione wondered if torture might be preferable to unsolicited praise from his father. These purebloods truly were odd!

"I'm sure they also know that he's single. No doubt Rita would have informed them of that in her articles. And being your old school enemy, there is automatic tension. Sometimes that tension can boil over into sexuality. So it's the ultimate romance; you, wronged by your husband and devastated, and he, worthy but alone, meet…"

"Worthy but alone?!" Draco nearly shouted. Hermione laughed out loud.

"You meet and all those old tensions are dredged up, but time and circumstance have changed them. Bam. Cue fling."

"You have got to stop watching television!" Draco thumped his fist on the table.

"Tell me that maudlin women wouldn't eat that up," Lucius addressed Hermione, ignoring his son.

It took all of her composure not to break into hysterical laughter. What Lucius was saying probably wasn't far off the mark, but Draco was right – he did need to stop watching tv. And Draco, poor Draco looked as though he wanted to break his wine glass and gouge his eye out with the shards.

"Ok," she said shakily, only just containing her laughter, "whatever the reason, they like us."

"Yes," Draco bit off. "Let's stay on task, please."

"I say that you should continue the façade until and unless opinion begins to turn. This is not what Skeeter wanted, and anything we can do to counter her is good," Lucius said, only the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips.

"It's true, it would drive her mad that she's not getting what she wants."

"I just worry about escalation," Hermione frowned. "If she isn't getting the desired impact, she'll start to make up things that are more and more ridiculous. Next week I could be pregnant, and honestly, Draco, I'm not ready to be pregnant with our lovechild."

"I'm not ready to create our lovechild," he muttered.

"You have to play her game, though," Lucius said. "And if you're creating your own scandal, rather than letting her do it for you, you're winning. Eventually it will force her hand and she'll be revealed as a fraud."

Hermione considered. He was probably right. Nothing would infuriate Rita more than her subjects actually complying with her wild publicity. It would leave her scrambling to find things that were more and more sensational. And if they had the readers on their side…

"This could work," she remarked.

"Could?" Lucius said. "It will." He poured himself another glass of wine. "And while you two are playing relationship charades, I'll be looking for evidence that Skeeter fabricated the report about your husband cheating."

"Oh, come on," Hermione sighed. "There were pictures."

"You saw what she did with the picture of you and I," Draco said. "For all we know she could have manipulated them and the whole thing never happened."

"What did he say about it?" Lucius asked.

He. Ron. She shook her head. "He said nothing. Nothing at all. It seemed like he wasn't sure himself."

"Idiot," Draco said with a sigh. He frowned deeply. "There's only one problem with this plan."

"What's that?"

"You can't leave the country, father. And since the incident happened in Mykonos, that presents a problem." Draco looked apologetic and delivered his next statement gently. "You also won't be able to do the kind of sneaking around necessary without a wand and without arousing suspicion."

Lucius took it in stride. "Ah, true. I forget I have a bad reputation."

"You aren't allowed to leave the country?" Hermione asked.

"Here they can monitor the wand shops to make sure I don't purchase a new one. They can't do that abroad. Now, if I really wanted to leave, I could…but I'd spend the rest of my life on the run and if and when I returned, I'd be arrested, thrown into Azkaban…the whole bit."

She marveled at it. All along she had thought that Malfoy got off easy, but it seemed that there was no end to the restrictions on him. He really did have to walk the straight and narrow to stay free. However, it was becoming increasingly possible that the straight and narrow…suited him.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"I think it's a solid plan," Draco replied. "My father and I just need to switch places."

A beat of silence met his declaration. Hermione was reassured by a quick glance at Lucius; he looked as uneasy as she felt.

"There is no guarantee that I would be received well," he said, a bit more guarded than before. "And it would make Miss Granger appear both loose and positively mental."

"Well, you are trying to create a scandal, aren't you?"

"And why would I appear mental?" she asked. Loose she could understand, dating a son and a father in rapid succession, but why would it seem crazy? Yes, Malfoy had a past, but he was also a smart, good-looking man (her ruminations on his rear end prior to realizing it was him the other day proved that). Never mind that he was rich. Once they got over their initial fear, most women would not mind taking a shot at him. None of which she said out loud.

"I'm fifty-one years old. People would suspect you had some sort of daddy complex."

"That's not old," she shrugged. "I always wanted to date older men."

"When, Granger?" Draco asked. "You walked off that battlefield already married to Weasley."

She lapsed into a sullen silence. She didn't often think about the way her love life had gone, but Draco was too perceptive for his own good. There had been Viktor, of course, and she had enjoyed her few months with him more than she ever let on to anyone, but it never would have worked out. Then there was the debacle with Cormac McLaggen, which had been more out of revenge than anything else. And then there was only Ron. Ron, Ron, Ron. It had seemed so right but perhaps the war had throttled her better judgment. Wars tended to do such things.

"I'm not convinced," Lucius said at length. "There is no knowing how people will react to it. It could do more harm than good. I could end up looking like a lecherous creep in addition to all the other unsavory things I already appear to be, and Rita would be only too happy to return to writing about how you are a tart, Miss Granger."

"Or it could be good," Draco challenged. "Think about it. You have this reputation, but no one's heard a word about you in three years, father. If you reappear all of a sudden and you're dating a muggleborn…Hermione Granger, no less…it would turn everything they thought about you on its ear."

This time Lucius was the one that looked decidedly uncomfortable. Hermione thought that it might have something to do with the fact that Draco was now as ruthless a planner as he; gone was the whiny, spoiled brat that she had known. Lucius's heir had at last overtaken him.

"I am going to rue the day I ever got involved with this," he sighed.

"So you're in, then. Granger?"

Hermione frowned at the two of them. Lucius looked like he had a headache. Draco looked very sure of himself.

"Would people really believe it?" If she was reading it, she would have a hard time believing it, but she was smarter than most…

"Skeeter is banking on people believing whatever rubbish she creates. She wouldn't still be in business if they didn't."

Could she really do this? Could she pretend to be romantically involved with Lucius Malfoy? God, what would she tell people? Half of the people that mattered would think she'd gone nuts or hate her outright. Ron would probably attempt murder.

"One condition," she said. She had both of their attention; it was difficult not to squirm under their combined gaze, blue and grey. "I have to tell certain people. I'll lose half my friends if I don't."

"If they disassociate themselves with you because you date someone they don't approve of, they aren't your friends anyway." Hermione gave Draco a sideways glance. Her mother would have said the same exact thing. It was kind of disturbing, actually…

"I know, but…"

"Tell whoever you want as long as you think they can play along," Lucius said. "And for God's sake, make sure there aren't any ladybugs in the room when you do."

"Don't worry, I know how to make sure that a secret stays a secret," she said ominously. The two Malfoys exchanged a look. Then Draco smiled.

"All right, you two. You just…enjoy yourselves and I'll do all the work." He cut off whatever protest his father had been about to voice with an odd little chuckle. Draco stood up, tipped his empty glass at them, and headed for the door.

Lucius stared after him for a long time. Then his blue eyes met hers and he said, "I've created a monster."

She laughed. "Serves you right."

"I suppose." He tapped his fingers thoughtfully. "So, wildly inappropriate pretend girlfriend that is against my better judgment, shall we plan our first date?"

She tried to feel insulted, but like so many times already, she couldn't. This was troublesome, indeed. She had never met a man she couldn't stay angry at; whether that indicated a problem with her or with men in general, she didn't know. It had only been half a day, though. She suspected that before the end of this, he would incite her rage more than once. It was best to enjoy this sarcastic jousting while she could.

"Let me sleep on it."

From the way he smiled, she knew he was controlling the urge to make a tasteless comment.

"As you wish."