09/14/2010 EDIT: My Thanks to morgana67, who helped me out on legal information regarding divorce issues. She beta'ed the second part of this chapter, since I felt too shy to submit the whole chapter. lol


Chapter 4 – Rule Number 4: Don't Wear Suggestive Clothing

PRESENT: 5 WEEKS AFTER THE NIGHT CLUB

Hermione watched with wonderment and fascination Amanda from behind as the legal secretary organised the folders in Hermione's file cabinet. The young woman wore a tight-fitting midnight blue office outfit, which accentuated her hourglass body figure. Her skirt was too short, barely covering her toned thighs and voluptuous hips. No unsightly blemishes whatsoever were on the exposed skin, or uneven and irregular angles, nothing that particularly stood out, or overshadowed another feature of her body. Her legs were smooth-looking, flawless even, that it had Hermione left wondering whether this woman was wearing stockings of fine silk or if her skin plainly looked like silk.

Whenever Amanda stretched an arm upward to reach the folders from the higher shelves, more skin of her lean legs was exposed, leaving a little to the imagination.

Amanda had always been excessively vain when it came to her physical appearance, Hermione realised now, thinking how neat and fresh Amanda always appeared at work. But of course as a legal secretary she must be highly presentable because she was dealing and interacting with clients, solicitors, and other office staff. That was why Hermione almost did not recognise her secretary when she had met her by accident at the Night Club.

Conjuring a ladder to place a carton box on the top of the cabinet, Amanda stretched further upward, her calf muscles tensing and relaxing with each of her movement. Even though Hermione had advised Amanda many times that it would be more convenient and even faster when she'd use magic, Hermione wasn't completely opposed to the view that was presented to her, and hence, she didn't say anything this time.

Hermione brushed the feather of her quill against her lips, her thoughts straying to the night five weeks ago, when Amanda had given her that very sensual kiss. Now she imagined what it would have been like if she had placed her hands on Amanda's bum to feel its tightness and roundness, to have one hand roam upward her chest to cup a handful of her—

A loud rumble caused Hermione to jump in shock, instantly snapping her back from her perverted imagination with her very own secretary. She felt her face flush and hoped that she hadn't been too obvious. Dropping her head, Hermione feigned busyness as she shuffled through her papers and pretended to write. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Amanda was now picking up the scattered legal journals and folders from the ground.

She didn't seem to have notice anything. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, lifting her head.

"No, I'm fine. Just the box slipped from my hands. I'm sorry," Amanda said, her cheeks crimson as she re-sorted the papers back in their respective folders, her eyes moving quickly as she read through the various files, completely absorbed in her task. She was mumbling underneath her breath as if berating herself for being clumsy, while nervously tucking loose curls behind her ear.

There was something captivating about this image, watching Amanda on her knees, crawling on the ground as her skirt moved further up her thighs—Hermione couldn't help but gape at her like some obnoxious dog.

She had, of course, noticed Amanda's appeal on men, and the envious glances of other women in the office, but she, Hermione, remained rather unaffected by that charm. Now—two kisses later, Hermione mused—it was different, and she couldn't tell why. It didn't make any sense.

It was just a kiss. Just that. Nothing more. Hermione wondered if this could still be considered as curiosity about the female's appearance—because Amanda was a feast for the eyes—or if she now actually wanted tactile experience with another woman's body. All this ignited by a simple kiss five weeks ago? Amanda, as drunk as she had been that fateful night, didn't even remember the kiss—a saving grace, indeed. But it made matters worse.

About a week passed since Hermione had very spontaneously invited Amanda to her flat to talk with her about the 'First Kiss'. Hermione had planned the confrontation thoroughly and only waited for the right moment, but at the end it didn't work out as planned. It backfired on her.

If she had only known that Amanda had a blackout, and thus, no memory of the kiss, Hermione wouldn't have invited her over. Case closed. Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't know this. And she couldn't resist finding out more.

And then, at Hermione's flat, whatever it was, then—the wine, the right ambience, Amanda's eyes, her lips that looked so inviting—the urge to kiss Amanda once again was almost irresistible.

Hermione covered her eyes. What the fuck was I thinking?

Would it have been so hard if she had just asked Amanda straightforwardly, directly, and very frankly, why on Earth she'd kissed Hermione? It was a spur of the moment sort of, in a drunken state, out of sheer curiosity, perhaps; would it have changed anything between them? Young women her age play around, don't they? That's no big deal!

But why was she freaking out?

Because now…

Now Amanda was the one preyed upon; and Hermione the wrongdoer.

If only she hadn't listened to Ginny Weasley's 'words of wisdom' to deal with this dilemma. Ginny, of all people! Hermione remembered the conservation she had had with her friend some time between the First Kiss and the Second Kiss incident…

"You know, Hermione," Ginny had started, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder in a friendly manner, "if it's just a matter of getting-physical-with-another-woman kind of stuff, I'd shag you right now to show you. But unfortunately, it's not just about that."

"Ginny, please! We're in public," Hermione had hissed, ducking her head, "keep your voice down, will you? Besides, I don't think I want to get physical with her, for Heaven's sake. I only want to know why…"

"Why what?"

"Why I felt that way."

Hermione sighed at the memory.

Granted, Ginny was right about Amanda having a secret fancy for Hermione, and Hermione did, admittedly, enjoy the First Kiss; with that Second Kiss Hermione had implied that their feelings for each other were…mutual. And that was wrong. Very wrong. Because it wasn't true, was it? And being Amanda's employer Hermione could get them both in trouble.

Running a hand over her face, Hermione reminded herself again and again that she was unquestionably not interested in nor attracted to other women.

But then she looked over to Amanda: her strawberry-blonde hair combed neatly and gleaming, a rosy blush on her cheeks, her lips formed to a smile as she looked curiously back at Hermione…

"Is everything all right, Miss Granger?" Amanda asked, looking half amused, half concerned. "You're making funny faces."

Hermione realised all of a sudden that the object of her recent fantasies had been staring at her…the whole. Frigging. Time. She felt her head heat up in embarrassment, and her quill fell to the ground.

"Huh?" Hermione uttered, very unprofessionally.

"Is there something on your mind? You looked thoughtful for a moment like something's bothering you," Amanda said over her shoulder as she placed a stack of old files inside a carton box and labelled it. She kept turning her head towards Hermione, the smile on her lips never wavering.

Hermione composed herself, took a deep breath, and resumed her professional role. "You ought to consider wearing something more appropriate for work. This is a law office, not the Agency for the PlayWitch magazine," she said in her authoritative voice, resuming on working on the outline of a divorce procedure. She bent down to retrieve her quill from under her chair in an attempt to hide her flushed face.

"Have you been able to conduct the research I've asked you to? The report ought to be submitted to me this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll submit it as soon as possible," Amanda said in a low voice, the smile on her lips disappearing. She transferred the heavy folders in an empty box, not saying anything further.

Hermione knew that Amanda was clearly not used to Hermione's reproaches, or the stern voice, or the sudden coldness with which Hermione had treated her the past few days, to avoid awkward situations. Because despite of them merely having a professional relationship, Hermione had been always nice and friendly to Amanda. There was hardly ever anything to complain about her. But now, Hermione was making Amanda feel bad, punishing and blaming her for the confusion she was causing in Hermione.

"Argh!" Hermione groaned loudly, unable to focus on her task. When Amanda gave her another puzzled look, Hermione said quickly, "I—uh, have to re-write this." Though, all that she'd written so far was the date and her client's name.

With one arm carrying the folders and her free hand pulling her skirt further down, Amanda said, seeming rather self-conscious now as she looked down at herself then back to Hermione, "I feel so silly, Miss Granger, I always thought that you liked my outfits," she said sadly, her cheeks rosier now than they had previously been, "wasn't blue your favourite colour, Miss Granger?"

Hermione gave her bewildered look, wondering briefly if they were seriously discussing fashion and her favourite colour now. "Blue? Yes, I love blue, but…" She scanned her eyes up and down the full length of Amanda's body—there was a new smile on the younger woman's lips, a playful smirk—then it slowly dawned in upon Hermione why her secretary was clad in a blue sexy office outfit.

"Wait a second," Hermione said, her cheeks growing warm again, "were you only trying to…impose me?"

Amanda smiled shyly, averting her eyes from Hermione. When she turned back, she nodded as if she'd realised something, she said almost confidently, coyly, "You did seem to enjoy the view a short moment ago, didn't you? You know, when you were watching me?"

Hermione let out a strained laugh that was close to a whimper, her face feeling hotter like on fire. Amanda's look made Hermione's legs give out and made her thankful she was sitting down. "I—I was, wait, you got me all wrong! I was only—"

"So cute if you blush," Amanda mumbled under her breath but it was loud enough for Hermione to hear. She looked briefly around, assuming her secretarial role again. "I was only teasing you, ma'am, relax. Is there anything else I can do for you, then? I think I'm done here now."

Hermione shook her head.

When Amanda left the room, Hermione leaned back in her seat and released a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. She was screwed! So damn screwed!

Because Amanda was aware now of the effect she had on Hermione.

*,*,*,*

Some time after lunch and another tedious and exhausting lawsuit, Hermione slammed her office door shut, and slumped down on her leather chair. A few minutes later even before she could take a deep breath, a knock emanated from the door.

"I suppose 'Congratulations' is in order," said the man in greeting, striding in as in as if he owned the place.

"Sir, excuse me," Amanda called from behind him, "but you don't have an appointment."

Hermione looked up to see Blaise Zabini's beaming face, as he dropped on the smaller leather chair in front of her desk. There was a smirk on his face as he watched Amanda at the doorway.

"It's fine, he can stay," Hermione said, glaring at Zabini. "I might spare a few minutes."

"All right, ma'am," Amanda said, "Anything I could offer you, sir? Some drinks, perhaps?"

"No, thanks, sweetheart," Zabini said, winking.

Once Amanda closed the door behind her, Zabini turned around and said, "Well, Granger, congrats again on your latest success! Hermione Granger, the infallible matrimonial solicitor. You must be proud of yourself."

He was referring to the Williams in which Hermione had managed to obtain a very advantageous financial settlement for her client despite the complexity of the case. Even Hermione had to admit to herself that she had been surprised at this result. She also marvelled at how her client's now ex-husband hadn't seemed perturbed by having lost a great deal of wealth and haven't even fought for custody or their only child. In fact, he had sounded almost relieved.

"Zabini," Hermione said genuinely surprised, massaging her temples, "to what do I owe the honour of this visit? And make it quick, I have to prepare for a meeting."

"My, my," Zabini said, shaking his head, "can an old friend of yours not visit you for private reasons?"

"Old friend? Did you mistake the office building?" Hermione scoffed, raising a brow. "By the way, I've been trying to Floo you but your floo network has been for some reason inaccessible for weeks," she said, "And now that I do have neither the time nor the patience to attend you, you expect me to have this conversation with you?"

"You haven't lost your charm, have you, eh?" he asked, clearly amused. He loosened the knot of his tie that matched his grey suit, and fanned his face with the case folder he was holding. "I haven't been in the office lately. Unless you arranged an appointment with my secretary, for which case I'd have been there. By the way," Zabini said with a nod towards the door, "So, that's her? The rumoured beauty? I'd certainly be more motivated coming to work if a sexy lass like her was working for me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration, "Zabini, for starters, grow up! You're not seventeen anymore, secondly, you're married, and thirdly, what the heck do you want?"

"Believe it or not, but I'm here to ask Your Highness for help," Zabini said, mimicking Hermione by rolling his eyes. He leaned back in his chair coolly, then he threw the case folder onto Hermione's desk.

When Hermione threw a look at it, the picture on the first page instantly made her blood freeze. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yup, him again," Zabini remarked, rubbing thoughtfully at his goatee. "I know you dealt with his case last time, except that that time his spouse did not agree to the divorce claims, thus, the divorce has been contested. The petition hasn't been renewed since then. Now he's filing for a new one, so he came to me, with valid grounds."

"I see, and now you're seeking professional advice from me," Hermione ventured, chuckling just to mock him.

"Don't be silly," grunted Zabini. He stood up and began pacing up and down the room, looking thoughtful. "Unfortunately, as his best mate, I know his personal reason why the arse is doing this." He threw Hermione a fleeting glance, then added, "And as his lawyer, I'm bound to professional secrecy, you might be aware of that."

"Of course," Hermione drawled, restraining the urge to roll her eyes again, "Go on."

"Listen carefully," Zabini went on; he looked exhausted all of a sudden, Hermione noticed, "Astoria, his wife, she's a good-damn person, and I've known her since Hogwarts, I know her personally. She's the best thing that ever happened to him. Now Draco is an arse—guess we've covered that already—but he's a good man, too, if he chooses to be. I'm talking here as a concerned friend of them both, not as his lawyer, bear that in mind. As his lawyer, however, I can't turn him down. As his friend, I want to."

"Come to the point, Zabini," Hermione said impatiently.

"Are you in a relationship right now?" he asked, out of the blue.

"What? Why do you ask?" Hermione replied indignantly, "Honestly, you're wasting my time, and I have to go."

"No, wait, please. It's relevant, Granger," Zabini said, almost beseeching, "Look, he will get in touch with you. I know he will, because he's doing this… oh blimey! How do I put this?"

"Will you please just proceed," Hermione said, looking at her wristwatch to signify that he was wasting her precious time.

"You have to turn him down," he finally said.

"Turn…him down?" Hermione repeated, dumbfounded, "All right, what on Earth are you talking about?"

"Granger," Zabini sighed, walking back to Hermione's desk with two long strides, his hands flat on her table, "I'm risking my job here just to save that moron's marriage, and I'm making myself a fool for coming here and asking you of all people for a favour." Then he went on, his voice a low, strained whisper, "He wants you, and he's gonna abandon his pregnant wife for you. He's always wanted you, ever since you shagged each other senseless back in Hogwarts. Yeah, don't give me that look; I know all about that. And he's gonna come back to you. You have to turn him down, make him clear that he hasn't got a chance with you. Can you do that, Granger? Can you?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. Of all things, this wasn't what she had expected to hear.

"Look, he's stubborn, an idiot; he won't give up once he set his mind to something. Whether he's just out for great sex, I don't know!" he laughed maniacally, giving Hermione a look as if he wanted to figure out himself. Then he shivered and pulled a face.

"Arse-face!" Hermione muttered.

Throughout Hermione's school year and her career as a lawyer, having known Blaise Zabini for so long and as well on a professional basis, she had never seen him stoop so low as to begging Hermione Granger, the very girl he used to taunt as a teenager, before. She had never seen him beg. Period. And he was doing this for the sake of his two friends, Draco and Astoria.

"For all I care, tell him that you're married or something," Zabini suggested, "or…or that you have a boyfriend. Wait, that won't hinder him either, because he's a pro at stealing a man's girlfriend after all." He looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing at his neck gingerly, "I'm exhausted, Granger, I'm at my limits end. How should I ever face Astoria again?"

Gathering her thoughts, Hermione managed to speak at last, still feeling incredulous about the sudden turn of events, "What makes you think that I'd give into him? Are you really sure that that's what he wants? Me? That's ridiculous. Absurd! And I can't imagine that he's going to leave his pregnant wife. He might be a spoiled prat, a prick, but he's not that kind of an arsehole."

"He doesn't know about the pregnancy," Zabini said, dropping on the chair behind him, "I only found out a week ago when I met up with her to discuss the divorce petition. She doesn't want to tell him about the pregnancy. According to her if he ever decides to change his mind, then it shouldn't be because of their child. She doesn't want to trap him in an unhappy

marriage just to fulfil his obligations. Of course he'd stay for that reason, but having a child mixed up in this mess would make matters worse, and that's not what she wants."

"If he doesn't love her—" Hermione began, but was cut off by Zabini.

"He still does, he said it himself. Dunno why he must always do this, y'know, ruin everything that's already perfect," Zabini said, shaking his head in incomprehension. "He's changed a lot ever since he lost his mother, while his father is still in Azkaban."

"I heard about that," Hermione replied, biting her lower lip. "All right, I'll see what I can do. I wouldn't have given into him anyway, just so you know," she repeated once again, "He's a married man, after all. And the biggest prick I know."

"Oh, yeah?" Zabini sneered, "Then please, enlighten me, Granger, how in Merlin's name did he manage to bed you back in Hogwarts?"

Hermione closed her eyes as a wave of guilt and shame overwhelmed her. Her only response was to chuckle awkwardly. "All right, I got it!" she groaned. Why admitting that she had been in love with Draco back then. It would only complicate everything.

A knock at the door and Amanda came in, carrying a folder in her hand. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but here's the legal report you requested earlier."

As she leaned against the desk to present it in front of Hermione, she brushed Hermione's hand. The room was quiet as Hermione skimmed over the report, ignoring the sweet scent of perfume in the air.

"It looks fine," Hermione commented. "You might want to go over this part, though. Have you verified the client's data?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Amanda, beaming, eyes soft as she looked at Hermione.

"Well done, then."

Amanda took back the folder from Hermione. "Oh," she said, spotting something at Hermione's head as she reached a hand forward. Hermione inwardly tensed up when she felt the brush of Amanda's hand lightly against her hair, "You have something in your hair, Miss Granger, hold still. There, was just lint." Then she smiled, and left the office quickly.

Hermione glanced back at Zabini, who was resting in his chair with a smug smile upon his face. She saw the same look that she had seen on Ginny's face before—that knowing look. His smile stretching wider when Hermione felt her cheeks blush.

But Hermione chose to misunderstand him, and frowned. "Zabini, do I have to remind you once again that you're married? Besides, you might not be her type, anyway," she said, jeering.

To Hermione's surprise, Zabini began to beam all over his face, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin.

"But you seem to be her type, Granger," he enunciated, leaning forward, "You said you're going to help me out with Draco's case, right? I think I just got an idea."