Here you go, another chapter.
I hope you would love the mature, more refined Malfoy as much as I do.
Chapter 2 : Fixing a Hole
In a perfect timing Ginny walked into her office just as she finished reading a certain article regarding her next case, but she was not the only one to enter her office. A raven had also flown through her open window, she knew already who its owner was and carefully released the parchment tied to its leg. She replied while Ginny was curiously yet silently watching her and sent the Raven on his way back to his master a moment later.
"What was that?" Ginny asked with a mischievous smile, her eyes glittering.
"I'll tell you over lunch, you'd never believe me." Hermione replied, arranging the few papers at her desk before leaving the office. She needed everything to be orderly and in its exact place.
They sat down at the ministry cafeteria and Hermione glanced around to check nobody was eavesdropping; people at the ministry were very fond of gossiping. "Spill it out." The redhead demanded, while devouring her fried chicken.
"That was Draco Malfoy's Raven," Hermione said in a quiet voice.
"What had he gotten himself into, this time?" Ginny questioned, shaking her head.
"Nothing, surprisingly," Hermione remarked, stabbing a baked potato, "He requested to see me, and so I did. We met at the park nearby."
Ginny began to cough so severely Hermione considered calling a Healer or a Mediwitch. "You what? Why would you do it?" Ginny said when her coughing seizure calmed down.
"Sheer curiosity I guess." Hermione said pensively.
"And…?" Ginny motioned with her hand for her to continue.
"And it went shockingly well." Hermione said, recalling the previous night's events, "He was very civil. I did not feel like hexing him even once."
"Why did he wish to see you?" Ginny inquired, the new information making her even more unnerved.
"He wants to change my opinion of him." Hermione said, noticing how strange it sounded when she said it out loud.
"Why? Is he on his deathbed?" Ginny laughed and Hermione almost choked on her juice, astonished by how close to the truth Ginny's joke was.
"He asked me to keep his reasons private," Hermione said carefully, "There are quite…convincing."
"He isn't blackmailing you, the git, is he?" Ginny asked with her eyes narrowed, scanning Hermione suspiciously.
"No, he isn't." Hermione replied calmly.
"So he is the reason you did not come to see us yesterday," Ginny mentioned, sounding slightly offended.
"Indeed." Hermione confirmed, lowering her eyes in an apologetic way.
"You can make up for it by coming over for dinner," Ginny offered with a smile, "The kids miss you."
"I...Can't" Hermione uttered faintly, not daring to look at Ginny, "I just agreed to accompany him to dinner."
"He's bloody serious then, that prat," Ginny stated, amazed, "If that another sick stunt he's pulling on you I swear I'll…" Ginny threatened when Hermione cut her by resting her palm on Ginny's arm.
"He's serious." Hermione assured her. Deadly serious, she thought to herself, enjoying her witty joke.
"What was he like? Had he changed?" Ginny morphed her suspicion into healthy curiosity.
"I couldn't quite tell," Hermione admitted, "He was polite for over an hour, so he must have changed somewhat." She took another bit of her meal when she decided she was not hungry anymore, "he seemed to be carrying a heavy burden."
"I've heard the guilt of murdering and tutoring innocents during the war is quite straining," Ginny replied darkly.
"We don't really know what happened there, Ginny," Hermione came to his defense, not even sure why, "And they announced him innocent in the trail."
"I guess you can find out straight from the source." Ginny said grimly, poking her salad nervously.
"So how have you been lately?" Hermione changed the subject, "I heard Harry requested a vacation.
Ginny's faced lit up. "Yes, we are going to Swiss for two weeks; my mother will watch over the kids."
"You two deserve a vacation, from work and from parenting," Hermione smiled, "I really don't know how you handle it."
"It's not like I have a choice," Ginny smiled bitterly.
Evening came faster than she wished, she hurried back home to take a shower and change her clothes. Not that she wanted to impress Malfoy, but if they were going to eat out she should probably dress properly. She pointed her wand at her still dripping hair and mumbled a spell, causing the now dry hair to curl down elegantly; one of the only useful things she had learned from Lavender Brown. She zipped the black dress and studied her reflection in the mirror; it was fashionable but not too fancy, perfect for occasions such as this one. She had to thank Ginny for her superior shopping skills.
Wondering if she should put on some make up, she wore her shoes; she decided against it, she would not put so much effort in a date with Malfoy. And it was not even a date. She grabbed a long crimson trench coat and covered herself, sending a worried glance at the clock and Apparated to Diagon Alley, where she was supposed to meet Malfoy. Like the true gentleman he aspired to present himself, he was already there, leaning nonchalantly against the wall of Flourish and Blotts. It seemed like he knew exactly how to position himself so his body would look lithe and alluring and the light of the street lump would compliment his sharp features.
He straightened his pose when he noticed her, putting on a satisfied smirk, "Always a Gryffindor," he said almost mockingly, "Crimson suits you."
She tried not to blush, compliments from him were so odd and hard to accept. "I see you stick to house colors as well," she remarked, looking at his dark green blouse.
"Still a Slytherin," he replied with a grin, "I haven't changed that drastically." She gave him half a smile, though she really fought it and tried to look indifferent, but this new Malfoy was quite amusing. "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his hand.
She hesitantly took his hand and let him lead her to the restaurant; up till the previous night the only physical contact she had with Malfoy was punching him in their third year. This sudden closeness was very foreign and hard to adjust to, but she quickly regained her composure, determined to deal with it in the best possible way. He stopped in front of a small restaurant, modestly decorated and homely welcoming; very unlike Malfoy, a thought crossed her mind.
The hostess seemed familiar with him, and without a word a private table in a hidden corner was set for them; she almost laughed when he pulled her chair for her. She looked around seeing that the few people present at the restaurant gave them very blunt stares.
"Don't you fear to associate publically with me?" she voiced out her thoughts, "It might raise some questions.
"I pay a lot of money to keep my life private," he replied, sounding tired. "Are you ashamed of being seen with me?" he countered, eyeing her steadily.
"I not ashamed," Hermione replied slowly, "Though I might be required to give a few explanations…"
"You're old enough to associate with whoever you want without reporting." He remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"It's not reporting," his rephrasing annoyed her, "It's informing. And sharing information with friends has nothing to do with your age."
"Still hanging out with Potty and Weasel, I see." He said snidely, and if she was unsure it was Malfoy she was talking to a few moments before, now are her doubts were cleared.
"Still jealous and childish, I see," she replied viciously, her eyes glowing dangerously.
"Perhaps," he admitted, surprising her, "I always liked watching you when you're mad. This hadn't changed as well."
"So this is why you tried to turn my life into a living hell?" Hermione inquiring, picking up the menu.
"Among many other reasons," he answered vaguely. A moment later a waitress had come to take their orders; Hermione could smell her fear when she addressed Malfoy, he still had that cloud of authority around him that made people cringe. He turned to look at her after the waitress left with their orders, examining her features exhaustively; she felt almost naked under his eyes, without her coat to cover her.
"So you ended up as head of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department," Malfoy drawled, "Predictable. Especially after your ridiculous struggle for the House Elves rights in Hogwarts…"
"What? You knew about it?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, suddenly very glad for the wine Malfoy ordered.
"As I mentioned last night, I was very aware of you during our school years," Malfoy remarked with a flirting smile, enjoying the blush that stained her cheeks.
"I believe I saw you at the ministry a few times," Hermione said calmly, regrouping, "What is your occupation?"
"I work for the department of Mystery," he said furtively.
"What?" Hermione exclaimed, "Why would they let you work there? You're a Dea…" Hermione ceased talking, knowing she was out of line. She looked at him nervously only to see he was not even one bit angry, maybe slightly disappointed.
"May I remind that I was acquitted from all accusations," Malfoy said calmly, "And though I don't deny being a former Death Eater, apparently my argumentations were good enough for the Wizengamot to pardon me."
"Or your money was good enough…" Hermione spoke without thinking.
"I will ignore your rudeness, Granger" Malfoy said dryly, "since you are obviously ignorant to what had happen to me during the war."
"Enlighten me." She said firmly, leaning forward to listen.
"Maybe some other time," he said, waving his hand in dismissal, "I'd hate to ruin a pleasant dinner with a story like that."
Their dishes arrived soon after, and Hermione was glad he chose an Italian restaurant; the Ravioli she ordered was divine. She sent him glances every once in a while, observing the gracefulness of his movements, the way he used his cutlery and the gentility he ate with. She wanted to laugh when she compared it to Ron's clumsiness and lack of restraint.
"Do you find me amusing, Granger?" He inquired after wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. His mother did a fantastic job on him.
She blushed slightly for being caught staring. "No. I'm just …surprised."
"Care to explain?" he leaned back in his chair, putting his fork down.
"I just see a whole side of you I've never had a chance to know, since you hid it so well behind your repulsive attitude." Hermione said contemplating.
"It was a necessity, being a Malfoy obliges you to act a certain way. It was quite effective as a defense as well. Imagine how people would have exploited me if they knew how gentle my soul is." He grinned devilishly and Hermione felt herself smiling against her will. She was definitely not enjoying her time with him; that would be utterly impossible.
"I'm sure I wouldn't have taken advantage of you if I knew." Hermione smirked, realizing too late that she was flirting. He looked slightly astounded by her comment but quickly replied.
"Unfortunately, it's true. If anyone were to use me, I would have liked it to be you." Malfoy said, disporting, with an enchanting lopsided smile.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting." Hermione took a sip from her wine, maintaining her coolness.
"If you weren't a Mudblood…" Malfoy countered, smirking as she glared at him furiously. "So many 'if's and very little answers…"
"I guess we would never find out." Hermione said firmly, still angry. He was not being offensive like he was at their school years, she could tell he was playful, but the stinging memories made her bitter nonetheless.
"Unless you intend on falling for me in the few months I'm left to live." He retorted teasingly, but she could tell he was rather morbid about the whole issue.
"Is that your intention?" Hermione asked, alert, straightening in her chair.
"Certainly not. I would never ruin my reputation when I'm so close to becoming a legend." He said smugly, eyeing her gallantly. Well, she thought, that was definitely the Malfoy she knew, no mistake there.
To sweeten her spite he offered her to share a dessert and she hesitantly agreed. She did not regret that decision as the soufflé turned to be heavenly and she made a mental note to asked Malfoy if she ever needed a recommendation for a good restaurant; that was something he was very capable of choosing. She did not dare argue when the bill arrived and he paid for both of them; for one, he gave her a deadly glare when she moved to fetch her purse. Secondly, the dinner cost a small fortune, quarter of her monthly salary, and she was being well paid.
They walked outside where the wind roared and the clouds threatened to pour rain any second and stood in silent, Hermione feeling slightly awkward. He was close to her, towering over her, his platinum hair blown in the wind creating a silver aura around his head. "It's being a surprisingly pleasant evening, Miss Granger," he broke the silence, smirking.
"As unbelievable as it may sound, I must agree with you." Hermione said, her lips pressed into a tight smile. "It's seems that I hold many prejudices against you, and I'm glad for this chance to get to know you."
He gave her a genuine smile, an action that completely changed the way he looked, almost as if he were a different person. "Then we should meet again. I heard there was an exquisite exhibition of Ancient Egypt culture in the British Museum. Would you like to accompany me?"
Hermione gaped dumbly. "Muggle…Muggle museum?"
"I've expanded my horizons." Malfoy replied cryptically, amused by her reaction.
It was Hermione's turned to smile genuinely. "I'd like to go with you, then."
"I'll contact you during this week," he assured her, "Good night, Granger," he wished her, with a slight nod of his head.
"Good night, Malfoy." She replied, watching him as he Disapparated, leaving her confused. If it was any other man, Hermione would be smiling foolishly and humming all the way home; he was intelligent, witty, good looking, interesting, many of the quality she sought for in a man. But he was Draco Malfoy.
