Thank you all for your continued support and feedback with this story. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

I think we all need a bit of Draco in our lives ;)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.


CHAPTER SEVEN

Thankfully, she hadn't heard from him since she'd sent her note last week.

She wondered if he regretted it as much as she did.

Every time she saw a blonde head in the crowd, she felt the crushing weight of guilt and anxiety overcome her.

She knew that with him busy teaching at Hogwarts, her chances of bumping into him again were as slim to nil, Neville had more chance of becoming the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

Yet, a small part of her had to admit that when she'd thought she'd seen said blonde head disappear into the lifts in the atrium at work, there was a definite shot of something in her veins. She wasn't sure if it was shame, embarrassment, or maybe even exhilaration.

Things in the department were quieting down while they were awaited the results from the Bowtruckle hearing and Hermione had finally found time to meet up with Harry for lunch.

She was currently waiting in a Muggle café for him to arrive, reading the subtitles on the television that was showing the lunchtime news, though her mind was on other things.

"You know, you'll get square eyes, staring at the TV so intently?"

She was interrupted by Harry, as he approached her from behind and placed his hands over her eyes.

"So, what's your excuse, Potter?" She quipped back, turning in her chair to hug her friend.

"Ouch. I have bad eyesight as a result of fighting off the darkest wizard of our time when I was a baby! One of the side effects, you know…" He held his palm to his chest in mock hurt as he sat down, grinning as Hermione started to laugh.

He lifted himself briefly off the chair, pulling a copy of the Daily Prophet from under him that had been left there by the previous occupant.

"Harry Potter, the boy who lived….with terrible eyesight."

Harry put out his hands in a proud shrug, before asking "Usual?"

"Please."

He stood and went to order at the counter, leaving Hermione to pull over the Daily Prophet and muse over its headlines.

Turning the page, she was greeted with an image that caused simultaneous reactions to happen to her body.

A hot flush that started in her cheeks and travelled down to her toes indicated the rush of attraction, of intrigue. This was quickly doused by a wave of ice-cold shame and embarrassment. Then, a burst of annoyance shattered these emotions; to be replaced with a buzz of…was that jealousy?

"Parisian date for Malfoy Heir

Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Lucius Malfoy and up-and-coming Potions Professsor at Hogwarts School has recently been spotted in Paris with his fiancé, Astoria Greengrass. The pair were seen entering the high-end hotel 'La Maison Louvois' in central Paris, followed attentively by close friends. The couple have been engaged for just over a year now and rumours are rife that a summer wedding awaits the Pureblood pair. With a combined family worth that would make most wizards wince, it was surely no surprise to spot top designer Monsieur Jaquet exit the exclusive hotel a while later. This is certain to be the wedding of the year, with no expense spared to make it so. It is no secret that the younger Malfoy and his bride-to-be have worked hard to shake off the manacles of the discriminatory philosophies shared by their ancestors, and it is rumoured that the wedding will contain many Muggle wedding traditions. Although, one can hardly believe that the Slytherin Alumni will allow his bride to indulge herself in the "something blue" component of Muggle wedding customs.

The pair are pictured below, leaving their hotel for an evening out in Paris."

Malfoy was, unsurprisingly, donned in his trademark smart, tailored shirt and fitted trousers. He was missing a tie and his top button was open, a reference to the heat of the European air. His hair looked recently styled, elegantly swept back off his face with but a few strands that rebelled and fell lazily from their counterparts. One hand was hidden in his trouser pocket; the other was laced behind the back of his fiancé as they climbed down the steps of their hotel. He turned his head, eyes gazing over her face before he leant in and placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.

Hermione's eyes lingered on the witch in the image: she was stunningly beautiful.

Her long chestnut hair fell in styled waves across her shoulders, and her dress clung to all the right places. Hermione noticed how perfectly white her teeth were when she smiled up at him, her lips plump and pouty.

What on earth had made Malfoy sleep with her, when he had a beautiful fiancé like Astoria?

She could ascertain from this little escapade that he hadn't let on to Astoria about what had transpired between them.

Although she hated to admit it, part of her felt anger at him, yet this was quickly swallowed when she remembered that she also hadn't told anyone.

She had no right to feel anger, she told herself.

As she looked again at the wizard in the image, she could no longer deny that he gave her butterflies in the place between her thighs.

Of course, she was probably just attracted to the excitement of what they'd done, to being made to feel alluring and wanted again. Attracted by the way he made her feel, rather than him himself.

However, as her eyes traced his tall, striking figure again, she couldn't actually deny it anymore; she was disastrously, catastrophically and devastatingly attracted to Draco Malfoy. It was a crushing realisation, but the feelings she got when looking over his image solidified the fact.

As soon as he'd left her office the previous week, she found her mind would wander back to their sexual confrontation, and during the evenings he punctuated her dreams at least once a night.

Sometimes he was just a face in a Ministry meeting, and others he played a more…hands on role.

She knew it would go no further, like a schoolgirl crush on a professor. Yet, the way he'd made her feel was addictive; she realised now that she craved his touch, the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her.

Had he secretly slipped her a potion to make her infatuated with him? Put a spell on her that meant every time her mind had down time, he'd inject himself into her thoughts with his wandering hands, lustful gaze and that trademark smirk?

She'd sighed as she recalled that she'd sent him the note to clarify that their little encounter wouldn't happen again.

It crossed her mind if he'd even received it, he'd been in Paris after all and the article didn't state how long he'd been there.

Had they shagged and then he'd darted off to Paris to be at his Fiancé's beck and call?

She supposed she should feel guilty for finally admitting these feelings to herself, yet she had been so annoyed and infuriated by Ron and his lack of interest and disregard to her recently that it just wasn't an emotion she could fit into her already crammed psyche at the moment.

What in Merlin had gotten into her?

She flushed at the thought of what actually had gotten into her as she looked again at the image of Malfoy.

She folded the paper in half just as Harry arrived back with two cappuccinos and a table number.

"I'm fed up of those two already and they haven't even had the wedding yet. Do you know I have to send one of my Aurors to Malfoy Manor once a week to search for anything suspicious left by Death Eater sympathiser's that want to disrupt the wedding?"

"Why would anyone waste their time disrupting Malfoy's wedding?" Hermione questioned, blowing on her drink before taking a tentative sip.

"There's reason to believe that there may be some ex-Death Eaters that slipped the net who want to hit Lucius Malfoy where it hurts. Rumour has it they're angry, as they believe the Malfoy's got off relatively lightly after the war. With Draco having a sudden change of heart regarding his loyalties, what better way to get back at them by killing the Malfoy Heir?"

Hermione looked shocked as she stared at Harry.

He added a sugar to his coffee before he noticed her eyes burning into him.

"What?" He asked.

"That's a bit…extreme of them isn't it? Would people really want to do that?"

"Hermione, I'm head of the Auror division. Believe me when I say I deal with a lot bigger threats than someone trying to see off Malfoy."

Hermione quietened for a minute as their sandwiches were brought over by a plump, elderly waitress.

"Do you believe him? Malfoy? That he's changed?"

She tried to sound offhand and conversational, when really she knew she was asking to solidify her own thoughts on the matter.

"Draco? Yeah…Yeah I think he has. I wouldn't have defended him in his trials if I didn't believe he'd changed his beliefs somewhat. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he'll be out adopting hoards of Muggle babies, but I do believe the war changed his beliefs. I've seen him a handful of times since his trials and, despite the old school ground slurs, he does seem to have dropped his prejudices towards Muggles and Muggleborns."

Harry took a bite out of his sandwich, before fixing Hermione with a smirk.

"Anyway, I do believe I'm not the only one who's been in Malfoy's presence recently…"

He left the sentence hanging and Hermione flushed again, coughing on a piece of her sandwich.

What did he know?

"Merlin Hermione." He stood up and slapped her on the back a few times.

As she regained her composure, Harry continued, "McGonagall and I owl each other a few times a month, she told me you had been to Hogwarts to help one of his student's out or something?"

He raised his eyebrows at her behind his glasses.

She breathed a sigh of relief and took a long sip from her cup in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks.

She filled him in on her meetings with Malfoy, missing out the obvious Hippogriff in the room as they finished off their lunch.

It was Hermione's turn to pay for the meal, so after leaving the correct amount of Muggle money on their table, the pair left and headed back towards the Ministry together.

"Shame Ron couldn't make it…again." Harry stated as they crossed the road, placing his hands inside his robe pockets.

Hermione linked her arm through his and sighed.

"He owled me just before I left, said George was running late at a meeting so he had to stay at the shop."

Harry looked at her as they entered the Ministry and walked through the Atrium together.

"Things still not any better?"

She gave an exasperated laugh as they waited for the lifts.

"I wish I could say they had Harry, I really wish I could…"

They stepped into the lift together and Harry wrapped her in a friendly hug, just as the lift doors closed.


Corah returned to their small table in the corner of the bar, two glasses of elf-made wine in her hands.

"So, what happened after you went back to his?" Hermione enquired, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of the blood-red elixir.

Corah looked embarrassed but laughed all the same.

"Well, he'd disappeared into the kitchen to get us a drink and I was looking at his books on the fireplace. I picked one up and it screamed at me, like a full on blood curdling scream! I, obviously, screamed back and threw it down. However, I accidentally knocked over his jar of floo powder and it smashed into the fire, which in turn caused the biggest flames you have ever seen to erupt in the fireplace, all different colours and sparks. If I wasn't so shocked by what had happened I would have found it fascinating. Instead I did the educated thing and … screamed again."

The young witch shook her head as Hermione roared with laughter.

Once she'd composed herself, she asked, "What did Tom do?"

"He ran in and just looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. Then he said I must be a pretty special witch if I nearly set his house on fire and he still wanted to take me upstairs…"

She grinned behind her glass as Hermione giggled again.

The pair had been out for a few drinks after work to catch up on gossip without Atticus around.

Corah knew of Hermione and Ron's current difficulties, yet she didn't dare tell the young girl about Malfoy. That was her dirty little secret.

But tonight was for hearing about Corah's new love interest, Tom. They'd been out for a few hours and were getting thoroughly tipsy.

Hermione had never been one to find the answers to her problems in the bottom of the bottle, but tonight it was certainly helping her forget about both Ron and Malfoy. It was giving her brain a breath of fresh air that would no doubt be full of their presence tomorrow, along with the added nag of a hangover.

They carried on chatting and drinking for a while, before Corah spotted a familiar figure approaching them through the gloom of the bar.

"Shit, duck! Keep your head down! The man who's desperate to get into your knickers is looking for us!" Corah scooted down in her seat, encouraging Hermione to do the same.

Hermione flushed immediately, thinking instantly of Draco, before she heard the monotone drawl of Atticus arrive at their table.

Hermione felt disappointed for more than one reason.

"I've been looking everywhere for you two, you didn't mention we were going out here for drinks, I've been down the road at the other bar!" Atticus forced himself down onto the bench Hermione was sat on.

Hermione grimaced "It must have slipped our minds, sorry Atticus." She avoided looking at the witch opposite her in case they giggled. They had accidentally on purpose not told Atticus about their change in location

"No problem! I'm here now!" He grinned at the pair and placed his hand on Hermione's thigh under the table, squeezing slightly.

She grabbed the offending body part and looked him in the eyes.

"Hand's to yourself, Atticus, I'm married remember!" She signalled to the golden band on her ring finger.

"I'm only playing 'Mione." He held his hands in mock defeat and grinned inanely.

Corah huffed as Hermione stood and tried to exit their table.

"And I'm only going to get some drinks. Same again Cor?"

Corah nodded as Hermione looked expectantly at Atticus to stand so she could squeeze out of the bench.

Instead, he held his hands high in the air, signalling her to climb over him. She shook her head in annoyance and barged past the man to her right, pulling the hem of her dress down as far as she could as she passed him.

"I'll have a Wizard's brew." He spoke as Hermione bent down to collect her purse out of her handbag.

She stood and glared at him before heading to the bar, desperate to get away from the lecherous man. He seemed to be becoming creepier by the day.

She stood at the bar and waited for one of the bartenders to notice her. She finally ordered the three drinks and was watching the wizard making her order when she felt a hand on her lower back and she stiffened in surprise.

She turned to glance over her shoulder and was greeted yet again by the stubbly face of Atticus.

"Sorry about that back there 'Mione, I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine Atticus. Just remember I'm your boss and it's not appropriate behaviour, also, it's Hermione, not 'Mione." She turned away from him, feeling him move to stand beside her again.

"It's just….I saw in the Prophet about your husband…and I think you're a truly wonderful and beautiful witch, I think you're wasted on him…" He leant forward and whispered to her, nuzzling the tender flesh under her ear.

Hermione pulled away as if she had been electrocuted.

"You know nothing, nothing about my marriage Atticus. Now I'm going to put your behaviour down to your drinking, but if you speak to me or touch me like that again I swear to Merlin I'll slap you so hard your Grandkids will try and get their hands on a time turner to come back and stop me."

"I'd listen to her if I were you mate, she has a formidable right hand on her."

A cool voice came from her left hand side. She turned abruptly to see Draco Malfoy who kept his eyes focussed towards the barmaid, and gulped.

"And who the fuck are you?" Atticus straightened up and stared at the blonde stranger who had interrupted them.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. An old friend. And as I said, I'd listen to her if I were you. I don't know if you have this effect on everyone, but I know your behaviour is definitely bugging the shit out of me, so why don't you take your leave and let the two women get on with their evening, hmm?" Draco turned to face Atticus, raising a cool eyebrow at the man and taking a sip from the amber liquid in his newly arrived glass.

The barmaid delivered Hermione's three drinks just as Atticus was brave enough to scowl at Draco.

He reached for his glass, downed its contents and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow." He nodded at Hermione before quickly exiting the bar.

Keeping her head down, looking at Atticus' empty glass, Hermione spoke in almost a whisper, "You didn't have to do that Malfoy. I had it under control."

"Yeah, it looked like it. You looked more flustered than when Potter was beating you in Slughorn's Potions Class." Draco nodded as the barmaid brought back his change and turned to face Hermione again.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, not daring to look up at him.

"I'm having a drink Granger, the same as you. Thanks for the note by the way."

Her eyes shot up to meet him at these words; chocolate meeting cool ice.

"You got it?"

"Of course I got it Granger. It arrived a few days before I left the country for a bit. Funny how two simple words can go around and around in your head, it feels like they're burnt onto my eyelids."

Hermione gulped and looked over Draco's shoulder to look between the bodies to find Corah. Her attention was pre-occupied looking at the drinks menu so Hermione continued her conversation.

"How was Paris?"

He searched her face, looking for some indication of emotion about his recent break away.

"I see the Prophet still find my upcoming wedding the height of interest." He scoffed, looking down and swirling the ice around his glass before continuing.

"It was warm. Busy. I spent most of the trip doing exactly as Astoria demanded, including getting manhandled by some flamboyant designer. I'd much rather have spent it being manhandled by …"

"Your fiancé?" Hermione interrupted him.

She felt his eyes burn into her and she gulped again.

"Something like that…"

Hermione's finger traced the stem of one of the wine glasses in front of her. She needed to keep her hands busy as her whole body was screaming at her to close the distance between them.

"Listen…I've got to go…Corah…"

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt his hand slip behind her back and rest against her hip, pulling her close. The numerous people surrounding them at the bar hid his actions.

He smirked at her sudden gasp.

She tried to pull his hand away, but he took the opportunity to weave their fingers together. She looked down at their entwined hands and he grasped her tighter.

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind Granger. It's like you've put some fucking spell on me. Every fibre of my being is screaming out for you in such a volume that I'm surprised you can't hear it."

His breath tickled her ear causing her to shiver in anticipation. His words travelled to her abdomen, fanning the flames of desire that he'd left her with last week.

"Malfoy…I.."

"Don't you dare say you don't feel the same. The way you were moaning my name and grinding into my cock. Don't say you've not been craving it since. Merlin Granger, my fingers are desperate to be buried inside you again."

His fingers gripped hers even tighter and she turned her head slightly so they were nearly cheek to cheek.

She felt her pussy twitch in excitement and her eyes looked over his lips, smelling the cinnamon of the whiskey on his breath.

To a passing stranger it looked as though they were simply two friends trying to communicate to each other over the loud music.

"We can't. I'm married…You…Astoria" He had left her incapable of forming a sentence; she spoke in monosyllables, stuttering over her own words. She bit her bottom lip, forcing her eyes up to meet his.

He exhaled the breath he'd obviously been holding and took a small step away from her. He rubbed her thumb with his own before letting go of her waist.

Hermione was left feeling cold at the sudden space that had emerged between them. She felt like she could trip over the silence that greeted her. She needed to get away and without giving him another glance, she headed straight back to her table.

"What took you so long?" Corah looked over Hermione's pink cheeks.

"Sorry, I bumped into an old acquaintance, we got chatting…"

"Did they take our drinks as well?"

Hermione looked down at the table and realised she hadn't brought the drinks over.

"Shit…sorry…I'll just go back and…" She stood to leave again but was greeted by a waiter from the bar.

"Excuse me Madam, you left these at the bar." He placed the two wine glasses on her table.

"Oh, thank you! I don't know what came over me." She smiled at the man, handing Corah her own glass.

"And I was asked to give you this." The barman nodded at her and weaved his way back through the crowded room.

He had passed her a small piece of parchment that was folded down the centre. She opened it discretely and read the words upon it, recognising the writing immediately.

"You know where I am when you change your mind."


"Mamihlapinatapai – A look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin." – from the Yaghan Language of Tierra del Fuego.