Author Note: Thank you for the reviews! Keep them coming :) I'm guessing this story is going to be closer to 6-8 chapters as I wouldn't like ending it on loose ends.

Chapter 4

Draco sat at his desk trying not to be distracted by the sound of Granger's quill scratching across parchment. Usually, she used muggle pens or pencils, but she'd run out.

It had been a few days since their...encounter, and things had settled down. Neither one of them mentioned what had happened. Instead they focused on catching up - which for them was really getting ahead - and prepping for a potion they'd been wanting to collaborate on as soon as free time was available.

Granger seemed calmer and quieter and less worried about Weasley's antics. She'd even thanks Harry politely and carefully turned the conversation when her friend had stopped in to nervously check on her. Draco had dipped out of the office, excusing himself to give them some privacy, but he couldn't help glancing at her crossed legs. And remembering what it had felt like to have them draped over his shoulders.

If he was honest, he'd thought about eating Granger out way too much after the event.

And okay...maybe a few times before it happened, even. But it wasn't his fault. He was on a hiatus, focusing on work, and unfortunately the other women in the office were not his type or had already been bedded and forgotten.

Why not Granger? he had thought in a moment of weakness, getting a peek at the light blue lace knickers under her skirt when she'd been perched on her desk. And there were other things contributing to the decision; his frustration, both sexually and with her incessant talking. The knowledge that he was actually good at going down on women, though he wasn't always in the mood to be a giver. And the sliver of empathy he felt for his almost-friend (they'd never actually used the word in relation to one another), causing him to think that maybe if Granger had it good for once she'd see that there were better and much more viable options out there.

Not him - he wasn't an option. But he had no problem opening the door for her and giving a wave.

Which, judging from the way her body had jerked and rolled under his tongue, was exactly what he'd done.

"What are you plotting?" Granger asked from across the office, eyes narrowed at his sudden smirk.

"Nothing," he replied innocently. "Just thinking I might get back on the horse, so to speak. It is Friday after all."

Was that a flash of disappointment that he saw in Granger's eyes? He knew she disapproved of his old habit of prowling the bars on Friday nights when he didn't feel like being alone, but maybe he could change her mind.

"Come out with me," he suggested, consciously deciding to look at his paperwork instead of his coworker. Granger had been a bit too unsure of herself lately for his liking, and as much as she loved to barrel through life with that Gryffindor bravery, it wasn't always around when needed.

She was silent for long enough that he chanced a glance up, and found her chewing her bottom lip. A bad habit.

Then that old Granger look of determination crossed her face, and she nodded. "Okay."

Hermione was panicking.

Well, not exactly - she reprimanded herself for that thought, remember what real panic had been like during and just after the war. Harry waking up at night covered in sweat and hyperventilating in the few months they'd all lived together at Grimmauld place. Ron having to wean himself off of drinking for a bit because he always saw shadows where they weren't any.

She shook her head to rid herself of all thoughts of her ex and instead went back to the Potters - Ginny. She needed Ginny.

Luckily Ginny, being the youngest of the Weasleys and married to Harry, had embraced quite a few muggle habits. Including the advent of the cellphone. Hermione tapped out a text and waited, staring at herself in front of the full length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. She was still in her work clothes - an older jumper that she was realizing now looked disturbingly like one of her father's, and grey trousers. Tasteful, small wedged heels.

Lord. What had she agreed to.

She heard the floo in her living room flare and Ginny called out.

"I'm in here," she shouted back, blinking when the door opened and broke the gaze she'd been holding with herself.

"I'm going out tonight," she blurted quickly, before she could change her mind. Ginny's eyebrows rose, and Hermione's heart sank. "You think it's a bad idea."

She turned and trudged to the bed, flopping back onto it.

"No, actually," Ginny insisted, her voice high with surprise. "I think it's a brilliant idea. I just thought...well, to be honest, I thought you'd be down in the dumps a bit longer. You do tend to over-analyze things."

"Draco invited me out," Hermione said into a pillow, her voice muffled.

"What!?" Ginny exclaimed, and the bed shifted as her friend sat on it.

"He's, you know, back to his regular Friday night prowl at the hunting grounds." Ginny rolled her eyes. "And he invited me out with him. I think he thinks...it'll help.." she groaned, letting her body flop back into the bed. "Which means he pities me! I'm being pitied by Malfoy, of all people."

Ginny laughed and touched her arm, trying to get Hermione to turn over.

"Come on, that's not so bad. He's trying to help. If anything, I'd say that reveals more about how far he's come than the reparations he did on the castle."

Hermione looked at Ginny. "Really? You don't think he's just going to...use me as some sort of sob story to attract other women? I can see it now - 'Malfoy heir piecing the Golden Girl's heart back together.' They'll come flocking."

Hermione didn't say anything about the sinking feeling this created in her stomach; the thought of women draping themselves all over her coworker as she drank heavily at a bar.

Ginny laughed again, falling back onto the bed. "I mean, I can't guarantee he's not getting anything out of it. But if you ask me, it seems an honest enough offer. You know how hard it is for Harry to get him to come out."

"That's true," Hermione admitted, toeing off her shoes. Although she wouldn't say Malfoy was friends with the group, exactly, they were all comfortable with him joining in for nights out on the town, which usually happened after work. And seeing as how both Hermione and Harry worked at the Ministry, and Harry dropped in occasionally to invite her out, it was only fair to invite him as well. But he often twisted his face in distaste and declined.

"So," Ginny began, pushing herself up and walking over to Hermione's closet. "I'm guessing that you didn't call me here just to whinge. You must need help picking something out?"

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and nodded. Ginny stared pointedly at her jumper.

"I know," she moaned, getting up to join her friend. "I've never had to...dress to appeal to anyone. You know. Ron was always fine with jumpers and t-shirts."

Ginny screwed up her face at the mention of her brother's preferences. "Well we can't have you going out like that. Let's see."

The two of them dug through the closet for a while, chatting back and forth about options. Eventually Ginny had Hermione try a few things on and scrutinized her, twisting her long red hair around a finger.

"Alright," she said decisively, stepping forward to take a few garments Hermione was holding. "Lose the tights."

"But-" Hermione started to protest, and Ginny cut them off.

"They're work appropriate, but no one wears them out. Especially not out to bars. Lose them."

Hermione acquiesced, even managing not to grumble as she slipped them down her legs and tossed them to the side. She stood in her knickers and the ugly sweater.

"Put this on," Ginny continued, holding out one of Hermione's newer pencil skirts. She frowned, but pulled it up over her hips, zipping it in the back. Ginny slipped her wand out of the stylish holster she kept and gave it a flick. The skirt shortened just slightly to mid-calf length and a slit ran up the front, hemming itself as it went.

"Oh -" Hermione started, but Ginny waved her off.

"And this," she said, tossing Hermione a shirt.

She struggled to get the jumper off and then slid the shirt over her head, realizing that it was one she rather liked. A slightly cropped number that she'd bought a few years ago for New Years, sparkling quietly with dark sequins. Ginny flicked her wand again and the color changed to a deep, rich gold. Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Really?" she asked, not looking forward to a night of 'golden girl' pick up lines, but Ginny took her by the shoulders and led her over to the full-length mirror.

Hermione stared at herself. It actually wasn't a bad outfit at all. Not sleazy, as she'd feared with the front-slit. Actually, the slit ended just slightly above her knees, and kept her modest enough. The length was classy, and because the skirt was naturally high-waisted, it worked well with the cropped top.

She leaned forward, realizing why Ginny had turned it gold. It brought out a certain caramel freckling in her eyes that she hadn't really noticed before.

Ginny appeared at her side holding the heels she'd ill-advisedly worn to work that day that Draco had -

She stopped the thought before a blush started. Ginny was quick to catch things like that, and she didn't feel like owning up to the fact that her first sexual experience since the end of her long-term relationship had been a coworker eating her out on her own desk.

"Thank you," she said, meeting Ginny's eyes in the mirror.

The redhead smiled and nodded, then looked at Hermione's reflection with appreciation. "My brother's a git," she said bluntly.

Draco had scrawled down the address of a wizarding pub on the outskirts of muggle London, knowing that Hermione hadn't been there before, but would be smart enough to figure out how to find the entrance.

He sat at the bar a few minutes earlier than their agreed-upon time of 9pm and ordered a scotch on the rocks. It wasn't his drink of choice, but he wasn't looking for taste; just fast-effects.

Draco realized that he'd drastically underestimated just how much he'd need to drink as soon as he saw Granger slip in through the door.

She'd shed her work clothes and was wearing a skirt he'd never seen before, slit tastefully up the front, revealing flashes of thigh as she spotted him and made her way to the bar. He swallowed hard.

The shirt she wore was catching the light in a way that was already turning a few wizard's heads. His eyes swept the room, and he didn't realizing that he was giving any onlookers a glare.

"Hello," the witch said primly when she reached him, hopping up onto a stool. He nodded and ordered her a vodka cranberry, checking to make sure she was okay with the choice. "Starting out a little hard," she muttered, but accepted the glass, thanking the bartender with impeccable manners.

"You clean up well," Draco commented, his own manners surfacing. Hermione smiled a small smile and looked away, surveying the pub.

"Thanks. Ginny helped. I'm completely hopeless when it comes to these kinds of things..." her brow furrowed as she noticed the wizards who were looking at her out of the corners of their eyes.

"You know," he began, leaning toward her, "tonight isn't about you going home with anyone. Just getting back on the horse."

She turned and met his gaze. "Like it is for you," she said, and he hesitated before nodding. Her eyes flickered away.

"I don't know," she murmured. "Maybe it would be best if I just...let one of them sweep me off my feet. After a few drinks."

Granger took a long draw of the drink and almost finished it off as Draco fought back a sudden rise of anger. She couldn't leave with anyone tonight - it wouldn't be...productive.

No, it would probably just push her right back into her hole of self-pity once she realized that sleeping around wasn't the answer to happiness. Draco himself had figured this out quite some time ago, but he had continued anyway.

Whenever he got together with Blaise and Theo, the only two classmates he still saw regularly, the former liked to drunkenly point out that it was because Draco was afraid of commitment.

"Or afraid that no one will like him," Theo would chime in, which ground Draco's gears more than he liked to admit. Slytherins were too observant for their own good.

Granger's gaze was lingering on a dark-haired wizard who stood by the floo chatting with a few friends. One of the group was a short young woman who laughed too loud and leaned into him too often. Ah, yes. Unrequited love. Draco basked in the misfortune of others until the wizard's eyes met Hermione's and he smiled at her. To his absolute horror, Granger smiled back.

"Really?" he scoffed, grabbing Granger's empty glass and signaling the waiter for another. "That's who you're going to let plunder the golden girl's depths tonight?"

Hermione turned to glare at him and he was happy that her attention had been drawn away from the suitor.

"He looks like an accountant," Draco continued, making a face of distaste.

"Or a curse breaker," Granger mused, tilting her head in interest. The wizard was, in fact, wearing a jacket with Gringott's seal high on the sleeve. It wasn't often that underlings of the company were graced with such gifts of esteem.

"Shite," Draco muttered to himself, glancing at Granger's crossed legs and noticing that the slit showed them off wonderfully. His gaze trailed down her legs and he saw that she was wearing the heels. The heels.

He signaled the bartender for his third drink in only twenty short minutes. He was going to need it tonight.