A/N: It makes me so very happy that there are people out there who like what I'm writing, honestly!

Beta love for MrBenzedrine, who also gave me some substantial input for this chapter and the story as a whole *hearts*. Btw, it was her birthday on Sunday (*throws confetti*) and I wrote a story as a gift for her, it's called "Unrelenting Sanity" and pretty dark. Maybe check it out nonetheless? It would really boost my confidence for trying to write that kind of stuff.

Hermione was surprised how noticeably Abraxas reacted on her little play.

"That sounds downright cruel, Miss Croft. The pureblood society is such a loyal community, and it's an honest pity that you've missed out to be a part of it," Draco's grandfather intoned with the almost-familiar aristocratic drawl.

"I've read about the old ways so much, and that's what motivated me to write this book. I am lucky to find a very interested partner in Mister Langdon." While said partner probably suppressed an epic eye-roll at her 'Duchess of libraries'-tone (Ron's words), the older wizard nodded in understanding.

"Motivation and a thirst for knowledge, both excellent requirements to make yourself a name in our circles, and that's very important for that venture of yours. Let's begin that with an invitation for tea tomorrow with my family." 50 points for Gryffindor! Hermione thought, highly satisfied.

*()*()*()*()*()*

She kept her laughter back until they Apparated back to Diagon Alley, but as soon as the usual dizziness faded, Hermione nearly doubled over in mirth.

"Hahahaha… he really believed….huhuhu…. so easy… haha," was all she could say, her breath coming out in huffs.

Draco studied her like she had gone loony at first before he joined her. Not with fully blown laughter, but with chuckling noises and that boyish, playful smile she really liked.

"Come on, witch, let's get you off the street before someone admits you to the Janus Thickey ward," he stated after some minutes, "I'll lead you to your natural habitat." With a chivalrous gesture, he extended his arm, which Hermione took without hesitation.

It felt a little strange to walk around the buzzling wizarding street so close to Draco Malfoy, but that had more to do with the lack of stares and curious glances they usually attracted, and not the fact that it felt perfectly natural to have their arms entwined. The proximity made things in her stomach aflutter, but she decided to ignore that for now. Though, the fact his eyes sparkled when they entered Flourish and Blotts made it all much harder.

Draco gently pried her arm from his and drawled, "I know you're itching to gather some information about the pureblood society, so I'm going to let you off the leash for a while. Behave." With that, he left her standing in the middle of the shop and advanced to the Potions section.

Why was it always such an act to go here with Harry and Ron like they were allergic to printed parchment and paper? All those thoughts vanished the second she lay a finger on the first spine.

Hermione didn't know how long she browsed through the books, stacking those she intended to purchase, immersed in a fascinating matter. Granted, she already knew some of the things written down about the traditions and still had the feeling the studies provided more of an outsider's view, but there was nothing like the rush of knowledge.

At some point, her eyes searched for her blond companion, and, when they finally spied him, she had to swallow hard; with his back against a bookshelf, Draco (even in disguise) was a vision. His eyes were fixated on the book resting in his hands, and his face was contorted in an expression of 'bliss by reading.' Nonetheless, his posture was relaxed, and he was an epitome of casual intellectuality. He could pose as cover model for 'Naughty Librarian Monthly' like this. She'd be the first to subscribe.

Fascinated, Hermione's mind was flooded by the image of him reading on a sofa with a cat (remarkably resembling Crookshanks) curled up in his lap and herself next to him... Uhm, no, a cat next to him and myself curled up in his lap, one of his hands stroking the sensible skin of my neck… damnit! She chastised herself for the fantasies of an undersexed bookworm.

She didn't fulfill that cliché usually; her last shag with Greg Diggle from the Improper Use of Magic Office had simply been lacking… pasión? verve? most certainly a certain wetness on her side.

She scrutinised Draco's physique. Rationally, she could explain why witches, even beautiful ones like Astoria Greengrass, threw themselves at him: he had a strong jaw, expressive cheekbones, broad shoulders, and was an overall handsome male specimen. And those eyes...yes, to sum it up, he was very symmetrically satisfying. That had to trigger a strong response from sexually mature females - an evolutionary compulsion, if you will. Recent studies stated…

She realised she was trying to convince herself in her head that it was okay to find Draco attractive. Who was she to contradict her own mind? That didn't mean the thoughts were followed by actions!

The next second, he must have felt her staring at him, because his blue eyes glistened back at her, and she felt a blush creeping up her face, when his gaze bored into her. A perfectly natural reaction when around a potential mating partner, meaning a male in a certain age cohort. His following smirk over his book, though, made her feel anything but natural.

Great, sudden attraction towards her time traveling partner, coincidentally the bane of her childhood, was exactly what a witch needed.

Pushing the indecent fantasies aside, she concentrated on which books to buy. In the end, she pushed ten about wizarding society, and two novels, over the counter.

"Gr-, Ophelia, I know that after all the hits on the head you've taken in your youth it might have lessened your IQ, but I didn't expect it to be so bad that you can't differentiate between facts and fiction anymore." Draco pointed at one of the (obvious) novels, showing an attractive blonde witch in an intimate affair with a dark haired and obscenely muscled wizard.

Hermione stored away the information that Draco knew what an IQ was and elbowed him in his ribs. "That's for research purposes!" she hissed, eliciting an amused snort from the man.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you can research by reading sappy romances, mh?" In contrary to former arguments, his tone was entirely teasing.

"Social perspective. Like one can learn certain things about the English late eighteenth century by reading 'Pride and Prejudice'." Before he could ask about the novel she was referring to, Hermione shot back, gesturing towards the books he placed on the counter, "However, books on curse breaking and potions, that I can understand, but I'm seriously asking myself what magical gardening has to do with our lines of work."

While paying for their combined purchases, Draco merely shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a wizard of many talents! Gardening is a very understated branch of magic!"

She played her giggling down as a hiccup. "You sound like the one guy with the exceptional talent for herbology, you know; he developed a sudden liking of swords, if you remember." Draco paled a little when he understood the reference to Neville, though the colour came back with sudden force the moment he stopped in front of the window belonging to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

He looked like a child on Christmas morning when he stared at the exhibited broom -which was no different from any other broom in the brunette's eyes, seriously.

"Ooh, maybe I can take this back with us? It would be a great 'antique' model when we return," he expressed, utterly fascinated.

She frowned, "You're rich. What does it matter?"

He gazed at her as if it was the most obvious question of the world. "Bragging rights! A mint condition Corona model broomstick? Do you know how bad Zabini would want to fuck it?"

"Too much information..." Hermione wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to replace her recent Draco-involving-contemplations with Blaise-involving-nightmares.

And while Ron would have tried his puppy eyes expression now, Draco actually reasoned, "You with your absolute lack of flying talent wouldn't understand it, but a broom is a useful tool for a wizard, especially when a wand is of no help."

Hermione recalled some of the times a broom had, indeed, been helpful for her and her friends: the Winged Keys of the Devil in their first year, the Harry Almost Roasts And Summons his Broom Encounter at the Triwizard Tournament, and, the closest one, the Room of Requirement Inferno.

Finally, she nodded, "Alright, I guess-" Before she could finish, the blond had entered the shop, depriving himself of the words 'Maybe you are right' coming from Hermione Granger's mouth.

With the wrapped broom in tow, they made it back to the Leaky Cauldron. Immediately, she settled on the bed with her new books and started reading. Beguiled with all the new information she soaked up, she didn't realise that she had spent hours engrossed in the books until she felt a gentle nudge at her shoulder.

"Hermione, aren't you hungry? It's already half past nine."

"Huh?" She glimpsed up at Draco, who held a plate of sandwiches in his hands.

"Food? You need to eat. Otherwise, this pretty head of yours won't be useful." Pretty head? Did he just compliment her on her intelligence?

"Thank you, Draco. I would've continued with reading well into the night otherwise."

An almost shy smile was his answer before it developed to his characteristic smirk.

"Just you know, I ordered from the room service, and you'll like it!"

They were the best sandwiches she had since Hogwarts, not that she'd tell him.

*()*()*()*()*()*

Hermione awoke from deep slumber the next morning, for once feeling well rested. With the exception of the night before, she very rarely made one night without waking up at least twice. She blamed the difference now on the very primal part of her brain that assured her sleeping in male company was safer than sleeping alone.

Taking the sounds of running water from the bathroom and the very precisely folded clothes on the stool as a hint, Draco had to be taking a shower. She appreciated his structure and order, for it had been a permanent reason for arguments between her and Ron when he left all his clothes laying around.

The minutes went by, and the wizard still hogged the bathroom. Hermione should have expected that, because Draco… well, was still a peacock. No longer waiting for him to finish, although a bit hesitant to leave the warm bed, she got up.

Her own clothes lay prepared on the stool beside her side of the bed. While she shrugged her sleeping clothes off, the brunette debated if she could risk going commando, because those outdated cotton underthings were simply awful. Then she heard a key turning in a lock, and, in her panic of Draco Malfoy potentially seeing her naked, pulled the grandmother panties up and threw on the first piece of clothes her fingers touched - which turned out to be her white undershirt from the day before. She desperately wanted to check if her nipples were shining through the fabric, but she couldn't, because she was mesmerised by the sight before her.

Draco stood there with only a towel slung around his hips and his hair dark with dampness. It was perfectly tousled and still released drops of water on his chest. The visual of his upper body reminded Hermione exactly why she had a thing for Quidditch players and Aurors. He possessed very defined muscles on his arms, chest, and abdomen without looking bulky, and she really wanted to feel if they were as hard as they seemed to be.

For sure, her nipples reacted at the same time as her head and pebbled immediately. That was when she realised she only wore a flimsy white shirt that was probably a bit see-through and did nothing to hide her momentary attraction to the remarkably handsome male standing a few feet away from her. Draco's grey eyes flickered to her breasts for a moment, and she could swear she saw the colour darken in them.

To cover her embarrassment, Hermione said the first thing that came to her mind, "I really need some appropriate underwear." Though, she didn't mention that maybe it was also because her current pair was a tiny bit damp now.

*()*()*()*()*()*

"Why won't you let me go alone?"

"Because it's potentially dangerous, and I am assigned to protect you." Draco insisted to accompany her on her private shopping trip.

"It's the muggle world, Draco - it's hardly threatening, especially after all the shit we've been through." She didn't say the word 'War' aloud, but her implications were clear.

"And I can hardly believe you when all the buses drive like they are the Knight Bus!" He pointed at one of the famous red vehicles that raced down the street with a breathtaking speed.

Hermione smiled at his almost panicked expression. "I assure you, I can handle that. After all, I grew up around traffic much worse."

Draco wouldn't budge and folded his arms in front of his chest defiantly, which provided her with an interesting impression of his biceps.

"Fine. But, for once, let me choose my clothes on my own. I don't want to end up with boring cotton again," she stated.

The blond tilted his head like a dog listening to a whistle, "So, you're more a lace and silk type of witch? Maybe garter belts, too?"

In a bout of sudden giddiness, she placed her hand on one side of his face and smiled impishly. "Wouldn't you want to know? Though, I'm not convinced you could handle the answer." With that, she turned and continued her walk down the busy street. He caught up with her some seconds later, his eyes slightly glazed over. In the protection of the anonymous mass of people around them, they discussed some parts of their plans.

Hermione declared to Draco that they had to get the time turner into their hands for research purposes.

"Why can't we simply take the one from the manor to travel back?" he requested before answering his own question with a sigh, "Because it wouldn't be there when I exorcise the ghosts of the past in our time, and that could change things."

"Correct, so we have to get it to examine it and build our own one."

Draco smirked at her, "Yes, because you only lay on your hands on things with the intention to study them."

Hermione quipped back, intending to throw him off, "Yes, that's how we bookworms lose our virginity."

The wizard's reaction was priceless as he coughed violently to cover his abashment. "That's a bit… intimate."

"Pft, we're sleeping in one bed, Draco, how much more intimate could it be between the two of us?" She winked and sent a coy smile in his direction.

"Believe me, that's a huge field to study," Draco muttered under his breath so she could barely understand him. She liked the darker shade his voice had taken.

And, fuck it all, maybe she enjoyed flirting with him a could get back at each other's throat when they got back. That was a plan.

Suddenly, Draco stiffened slightly. She suspected the change in his posture wouldn't be possible to detect for an onlooker, but her war trained senses shrilled in alarm. Sle lay a hand on his arm that didn't wander in close proximity to his wand holster, "What happened?"

"We're being followed," the Auror answered lowly and gripped her by her arm, leading her to a less frequented side street.

"By whom?"

"I don't know who he is - a dark haired guy, nondescript features, maybe an inch or two shorter than me. Muggle clothes." Draco, now fully slipping back into his professional role, rattled down. "At first, I thought he was coincidentally walking in a certain distance from us, but he stayed behind us for the last two turns."

"Draco, don't you think you're overreacting? I mean, we're glamoured, and no one knows us here. Not to mention the fact that we're on the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron." Hermione's reasoning seemed to calm the man down a bit, but he still had a protective grip around her arm. She didn't know if she should be annoyed or complimented by that.

"Please humour me, and let's apparate back to the Leaky, yes?"

The blue orbs and the commanding, yet concerned tone of his made it difficult for Hermione to resist, and, finally, she gave in with a nod.

After casting a temporary Glamour to make them practically invisible, they Apparated back to their room, which Draco had smartly keyed on their Apparition signatures.

As soon as they both had rematerialised, he was apologetic, "If I weren't an Auror on a mission, I'd say I'm sorry to have interrupted your shopping trip. We're only postponing it, I promise."

She saw him gulp visibly at her next words, "Better make it tomorrow, because otherwise, I have to start wearing your boxers or go commando."

*()*()*()*()*()*

The previous day, Hermione had been nervous about entering the manor. After all, she had been tortured in that house, so she guessed it was normal she was a bit edgy. And, as paradox as it seemed, Draco's presence had considerably calmed her because the two of them walking peacefully together was the living, breathing example that change was possible.

Now the brunette was practically relaxed (as relaxed as one could be with a mission to find a time turner in Malfoy Manor) as they strolled up to the terrific mansion.

"My best guesses at where the time turner is are the private vault beneath the building or my grandfather's study. He only moved all the priceless possessions that weren't jewellery when he sensed the situation with Voldemort got dangerous," Draco explained.

"Then we should focus on these places first, even if I have no idea what our chances are," Hermione agreed, climbing the stairs to the entrance with a snake knocker. Typically Slytherin, she figured, you have to look up to the entrance to the pureblood legacy before you are allowed to caress the snake.

The nameless house elf lead them two a bright tea room with a wonderful view of the gardens. Draco stepped in before she did, shielding her from the people with his body. She really had to remind him that he had to refrain from that behaviour, as it made them look suspicious.

"Miss Croft, Mister Langdon, I am so pleased that you took up on my invitation for tea." Abraxas greeted them formally with a kiss on her hand and a slight bow of the head to Draco. The Malfoy patriarch stood regal and proud in perfectly tailored robes. On the settee next to him sat a lavender clad witch in her forties, her lips curved into a soft smile in ways of greeting.

"This is my dear wife, Winifred. And this is Lucius, my only son and heir."

The way he introduced Lucius fit perfectly to the posture of the young man, who approached them now; the long, platinum hair fell straight over his back, and the arrogance that poured from his smirk, which resembled Draco's so much, also reached his slated grey eyes.

A cold shiver went down Hermione's spine, and she had to suppress the urge to grab for her wand. At the same time, the witch could derive why the female population gave their left hands to be with him. His chiselled features were undoubtedly attractive and would only mature with age, as she knew. Still, she liked Draco's appearance much better, because where Lucius' orbs pierced like ice, his son's held a flame (she could ignite with a witty line easily). Alright, maybe she should concentrate on the progressive present.

"Miss Croft. Ophelia. What brings a beautiful witch like you into the confines of our family?" Prat. He knew exactly; after all, he had addressed her by her first name. Hermione felt tempted to pull her hand away when he pressed his lips on the back of her hand. While Abraxas had left it at a polite ghosting of his breath over her skin, Lucius went for direct skin contact. She more sensed than saw Draco stiffen next to her.

Inwardly, she laughed a bit, because now she could rub under Draco's nose that the first kiss she got from a Malfoy was from his father… though, that didn't imply she expected kisses from the younger heir any time in the future… or the past...or whenever - right?

With effort, she pulled herself from her thoughts and smiled politely at Lucius.

"It's my work that leads us here, Mister Malfoy. We expect to learn so much about your family and your noble circles."

Before Lucius could answer, they could hear the melodious ringing of a small bell.

"Ah, speaking of circles. Our guests have arrived," Abraxas announced and turned his body towards the door.

"May I introduce you to our family's close friends, Druella, Bellatrix, and Narcissa from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

Hermione froze and felt panic spreading in every cell of her body. Whoever invented time travel had a sick sense of humour.

A/N: Draco's question for the garter belt is largely inspired by Oracle Obscured's "Quartet"!