A/N: here's part two. I've already begun working on the third chapter so that should be up soon! Thanks for holding on - I know this is going a bit slow! Thank you for your kind reviews and I hope you enjoy!
Draco roared with laughter.
Hermione's cheeks burned and she clenched her jaw. How could he mistake her for someone else? She knew that the change in her hair had caused a stir around the office, but Hermione assumed her hair was old news by now. The first few days had been rough due to all the stares her appearance had garnered, and the whispers that came with those stares. Hermione had overheard the rumors being passed about her and Ron's relationship, how she had gone crazy and shaved her head, that she might be having a breakdown.
Maybe it was some sort of temporary insanity, Hermione conceded to herself. She hadn't wanted to become one of those women, the ones who were so desperate to cling to whatever scraps of relationship they'd had, that they never moved on. After all, Hermione was supposed to have married Ron, was supposed to bear several red headed children with him. Perhaps in her own desperation to separate herself from him, she had gone a bit crazy. Hermione shook those thoughts away, returning her glare to her ex-enemy whose shoulders heaved with laughter still. He wiped tears from his eyes as he looked her over again.
"Jesus Christ, Granger. You look like one of my mates. I wouldn't have recognized you if you hadn't been shrilling at me." He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, trying to calm his remaining chuckles. Her clothes hadn't even indicated who she was as she was informally dressed in her muggle clothes of denim and a sweater.
"So, what is this? Couldn't handle being the odd one out between Weasel and Potter?" Draco was still openly staring at her, a smirk curled his mouth upward.
"This," Hermione hissed, "Is me being angry over you pulling the funding for my research. I demand to know your reasoning." She slapped her palm against the stack of documents on the desk, trying to draw his attention away from her and onto the situation at hand. It wasn't the first time Malfoy had tried to meddle in her work affairs – he seemed to find a perverse pleasure in disrupting her work. Usually he didn't affect it too badly and she could work around whatever mess he made but this time he'd gone too far. She'd been working on a sanctuary for Griffins for months now, with almost all the preparations complete until she'd arrived to check up on her project at the Ministry early in the morning to find her project suspended. The authorization was from the one and only Draco Malfoy. That was how she found herself in his office, furious.
"Does Weasel like the page boy look? I always thought he'd be an ass man but clearly I was wrong." Draco avoided her questions, and glanced down at the documents Hermione gestured to. He seemed uninterested in her complaints, more curious about her damn hair.
"Ronald hasn't seen my hair. Can we please move on from this?" Hermione was seething – how like him to ignore her complaints. How like him to push her concerns aside even though it would affect her work for months if they didn't get the funding back. Draco looked back up at her and shrugged carelessly.
"Your little project is taking too long, spending too much money, and is wholly unnecessary. So why hasn't the Weasel seen it yet? You know I think I'd heard rumors about you recently. Something about a breakdown?" He was being cruel, and they both knew it. Hermione's relationship, or lack thereof, was no secret to anyone in the wizarding world. From the beginning, Ron and Hermione were pursued by newspapers and curious inquirers about their love. As soon as whispers began to circulate about Ron's affair, the papers were quick to cover the tragic loss.
Hermione stood straight, clenching her jaw. She wished she had her hair back, not just to quell the current conversation, but so that she had some type of concealment from Draco's prodding questions. She hadn't any bangs to drift in front of her eyes, no lengths of locks to tuck behind her ears to ease her discomfort. She felt naked and ashamed before Malfoy, which added to her anger.
"We aren't together anymore, Ronald and me. I caught him in bed with one of his old acquaintances and called it off. Satisfied? Because I'd rather discuss why you feel the need to be such a meddling arsehole. Obviously the Griffin project isn't spending too much money - Look I've brought the accounts to prove it. Now just because you're frightened of griffins doesn't mean- "Draco cut her off with a scoff and wave of his hand.
"Well, that's his loss then, isn't it?" His voice was even, the remainder of his humor at the situation had dissipated. "You've always been out of his league, much as it pains me to say, but clearly he didn't deserve your attention. Doesn't explain why you felt the need to seek a barber." Draco seemed as surprised by his own words as Hermione felt. For a moment, the man appeared...kind?
Hermione's anger faltered, her brows knitted together again in confusion. Her shoulders dropped and she leaned back to look at Draco better. His long legs were stretched comfortably under the desk, hands folded casually on his lap. The Auror robes he wore accented his frame perfectly, even while he was seated. Perfect blond hair brushed to the side, although small strands tried to fall across his forehead. She couldn't avoid his grey eyes, sharp and calculating, appraising her appearance. All-in-all, the image and conversation were confusing. He did not appear to be making fun of her, the cruelty of his previous statements seemingly forgotten. She didn't understand what was getting at.
"What are you saying? How is this relevant?" Draco's eyes on her were now making her uncomfortable. The Slytherin had never been particularly fond of her, and his insult-turned-compliment was out of their normal interaction. Obviously, she knew of Draco's dislike for Ron, but she had assumed that dislike extended to her as well. Certainly, he had never shown any indication that he liked her. The term Mudblood still fell from his lips regularly, but perhaps it had begun to sound endearing rather than insulting.
Draco sneered, breaking her away from her thoughts. Whatever softness had been about him just moments before was gone. "I'm saying you look like a pre-pubescent boy now. You have hardly any tits, no ass. It's no wonder Weasel wandered. Your rats nest was the only thing that made you look presentable, God knows why. Can't imagine he'll take you back now." His voice was cold and harsh, piercing straight to Hermione's heart. He stood up and gathered the griffin project documents into a neat pile before stepping around the desk to face her directly.
Hermione felt tears prick her eyes as her anger flared back to life. It wasn't the comments on her figure that hurt her, but the idea that Ron only liked her for it touched on one of her biggest insecurities. She scowled up at him, for he was several inches taller than her. Her palms itched, although this time she wanted to wipe that self-satisfied look from his face. He met her fiery glare with equal ferocity.
"Who is saying I would take him back, Malfoy?" Hermione's voice shook slightly. Draco leaned down slightly, their faces practically level. He could almost feel the warmth of her fury coming off in waves. Her face was crimson, partly in embarrassment at his proximity and partly due to her indignation. He reached to the soft down of her hair, cold fingers barely brushing along her temple. Hermione froze, startled.
"You're saying you wouldn't take him back if he begged? That you wouldn't go rushing back to the safety of little Weasel given the slightest chance?" Hermione shivered as his fingers lightly touched her skin. His breath washed over her in a cool minty cloud. The scent of cloves filled her senses as he moved closer, closing the gap between them until only a few inches remained. She felt the light touch of his other hand on the small of her back. Caught in the serpents hypnotic gaze, Hermione remained rooted where she was, muscles tensed. She couldn't quite remember why she had come to his office in the first place.
Hermione felt her eyes flutter shut as Draco's fingers moved down her neck, lightly tickling the spot behind her ear. Her skin was flushed from her earlier anger, and the feel of his cool fingers along her neck was like a soothing balm. She opened her eyes again to see him watching her intently, lips slightly parted. She couldn't remember being anywhere near this close to the man before, and therefore had never gotten the chance to truly appreciate his good looks. A lot had changed since their years at Hogwarts, and Draco was no exception. The beginning of a beard covered most of his chin and jaw, the sandy hair stood out against his pale skin. Without realizing, Hermione's gaze was fixated on his lips.
His fingers continued to make their way over her skin, barely touching, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever they went. Hermione's breath hitched as he traced over her collar bone, her heart pounded in her ears. Her mind was too foggy to grasp exactly what was happening. She had been devoid of touch for so long; Ron had stopped touching her at all for months even before the affair. Draco continued to watch her reactions, showing nothing in return. One last pass over temple and he was cupping the back of her neck. Draco leaned down toward her with a soft inhale. Hermione closed her eyes once more, anticipating the feel of his cool lips on hers.
Instead, she felt his lips near her ear and a shiver ran down her spine. Draco licked his lips lightly before speaking. "You know, Granger..." He spoke in a low, deep voice that made Hermione's legs tremble, "I bet he would like to see you crawling back to him…on your hands and knees. I bet he wouldn't even have to beg for it."
Hermione's eyes flicked open. It was too much – his too close presence, his almost compliments, his touch, all of it. There was a particularly malicious look in Draco's eyes, an eagerness covered his face. It was almost as though he wanted to devour her whole. He was making fun of her. Had she really thought it was something else? Reality flooded back with a snap, and as Draco's fingers drifted to the soft spot behind her ear once more, Hermione whipped her hand across his face.
The resounding slap silenced the room aside from her strangled breathing. His grey eyes were widened in minor shock, before he fixed his face with his trademark smirk. Hermione ripped the documents from his desk and stormed toward the door. She turned just before exiting to find him lazily leaning against his desk, watching her departure. A red mark was beginning to spread across his cheek, she noted with satisfaction.
"Do not presume to know anything about me, Malfoy. You don't know a damn thing. You're going to fix the funding for that project. Now." she snapped before turning smartly and closing the door with a sharp click.