A/N: Dear Reader, please forgive me for not explaining how Draco escapes Hermione's flat. After much deliberation, I realized it will be a better story if you find out how he did it when Hermione does, and that is a few chapters away.
He would have to remember Granger was a perceptive witch. A compliment lessoned by his faux paux, but one which still held truth. As he cast a Disillusionment charm over his still Muggle form and walked down the darkened street leading away from her flat, he glanced back at the light from her window. He observed the entrance of a frantic silhouette, wand waving and released his breath in relief of his timely escape. Draco massaged his wrists, sore from her tightly bound Incarcerous cast and continued his path without a second glance to what he left behind.
A new month came, accompanied by a new Muggle form. This time, Draco chose an older man, one with whom he did not believe would draw the attention of sex-starved witches. With the events of last month at the forefront of his thoughts, he chose to experience a quieter, solitary environment. A bookstore, though coveted, was out of the question; the odds of seeing the bushy-haired witch were too favorable. With careful deliberation, he chose to eat his lunch at the Water Gardens while reading a book. Draco looked at the pathetic form in front of him. The wrinkles on his face spoke of a hard life, a societal deterrent for any unwanted extrovert choosing to spark a conversation. A small glimmer of a wish flittered in his head before it was pushed aside. He would never be able to be himself in public without harassment; the Muggle form was a necessity.
The Water Gardens met all his expectations, and then some. Draco chose a seat complimented by the shadow of an old oak tree, with full view of the magically crafted waterfalls in the center of the landscaped gardens. It was a favorite place of his mother's, but with the post-war Malfoy reputation, it was not to be visited. He pushed the unwanted memories deep within him and opened his lunch before beginning his anticipated read. The solitude afforded him was much appreciated as he was able to finish the book in one day. The pages served as an hour glass, keeping track of when he needed a drink of Polyjuice, and upon completion of the book, he had nothing left of his potion. Draco stood, stretching his tired, old body before gathering his things and making his way to an Apparition point. He had about half-an-hour left of Muggle form. Apart from the Quidditch match, this experience had been his favorite.
The morning following his latest Muggle excursion left Draco wanting. The day before had filled him with a much desired, but temporary peace. He decided he had yet to have his fill of it and would continue the experience monthly. He made his way to Flourish and Blotts with the goal of securing a new, satisfying read, and with a lapse in forethought that to avoid a certain witch, he should patronize a bookstore in another country. As he scrolled down the Quidditch aisle, he heard a familiar voice which brought back unpleasant memories.
"I was looking for something grand. Something that says 'Look at how much I care.' Where are your most expensive books?" Draco struggled to suppress a demeaning snort at the witch's request. He could not believe his former self had escorted her to the Yule Ball. His taciturn smirk was all he allowed himself as he continued searching for an interesting Quidditch book. He allowed his hands to trace the spines as he combed, a pleasure so small it was too meaningless to mention to anyone. But then he felt eyes upon him, and when he looked up, he saw the one witch he wished to avoid more than Pansy. She was on a balcony overlooking the bottom level where he stood. Her hair pulled tightly in a bun, desperately trying to claim ownership over its usual unkempt look. She was leaning over the railing and staring at him. Just staring. He glared at her, silently cast a repelling charm in her direction, and continued on with his mission. Draco wanted to forget all about her, but he found himself sneaking glances her direction on occasion. He was relieved to find that her previous interest in him was no longer applicable. His repelling charm must have worked. Unfortunately, there were two witches he wished to repel in that bookstore, and he had the misfortune to be discovered.
"Well, Draco, it has been a long time. How are you?" Pansy stood before him, and with her direct question, he could not escape without first entering in conversation.
"I am the same as always, Pansy." He nodded curtly at her.
After examining his form, she turned to the books around them before smiling flirtatiously. "I see you are expanding the Malfoy library. It looks as though you are adding your personal touch to the rich Malfoy heritage. I am glad."
"The book is only a light read. The Malfoy library harbors books which perpetuate continued knowledge in philosophy, magic, and of course, all things Malfoy. A book must have meaning before it can find it's home in a place as grand as the Malfoy library."
They stood in judgmental silence before Pansy ended the conversation. "Duly noted, Draco. I must be off."
As he watched her walk out the door to Flourish and Blotts, another unwanted, feminine voice manifested itself behind him. "Light reads are not a bad thing, except they fall short in one of the greatest pleasures a book can offer."
Draco chose to ignore her, and walked to another aisle. As curious as her statement was, he was not desirous of looking at the witch with whom he almost had sex—a witch he did not sexually desire save that one weak moment she appeared before him in the revealing negligee. He shook his head, trying to shake the memory. He did not want to talk to her. Unfortunately, she followed him. As he traced the spines of books with titles he no longer read, she stood in his path. He did not acknowledge her, choosing to stand in place and pull a book from the shelf in mock interest.
But she was not phased, and whispered, "I hope you find a book to contribute to the grand Malfoy library someday." When he turned to face her, he was met with her back as he watched her exit the bookstore in the same manner as Pansy, with different consequence in thought. Granger was a perceptive witch.