The door had no sooner shut, when Hermione marched back over to the bed where the newspaper had been discarded and picked it up. Skimming the article one more time, her annoyance increased steadily with each line.

She sighed, tossing the paper back down. It seemed that lately, The Daily Prophet was nothing more than a gossip magazine. They dedicated a tremendous amount of front page real estate to covering the Marriage Law, which seems to be little more to them than a spectator sport.

She wasn't sure what annoyed her more; the fact that the Daily Prophet seems to romanticize the absurd law, or the fact the Ministry is so inept that they fail to communicate interdepartmentally to avoid a fiasco like the one she faced now.

She contemplated sending an owl to her boss about the whole situation, but she decided that it was a conversation better to have in person. If her department wanted her to dedicate her time and attention to her job the way they expected her to, then she could not have distractions such as worrying if she had a "date" when she was abroad.

She huffed loudly at the thought before shoving it aside and jumping into the shower to remove the remnants of the day. As she shampooed her hair, thoughts of Draco Malfoy plagued her. She truly hadn't given him much thought in the past few years until recent events transpired.

He was an utter prat at Hogwarts; and in truth, he oftentimes made her life miserable there. She couldn't fathom why he had been picked as a potential compatible husband. The Gryffindor began picking apart what she knew of him. He was intelligent, an elitist, and a successful entrepreneur who took Malfoy Industries from the brink of bankruptcy to the thriving company it is today. If the Daily Prophet was to be believed, he was previously engaged to Astoria Greengrass and then she broke it off with him.

There were many questions that hung heavily in the air. Did he still hold any beliefs that muggleborns are less superior to purebloods? Could she really move on from previous wrongs he made when they were in school? Did he even deserve a second chance?

She shook the thoughts from her head, wrapping the fluffy towel around her body and walked out into the main room. Rio was unique in the sense that it didn't have just one main wizarding section, instead there were pockets all throughout the city .Since Malfoy did not give any inclination of where they were going in the city, Hermione stood in front of the small closet weighing her options. Most of the clothes that were hanging up ready to go were business attire, and she knew a suit would not fit in this situation.

At least she had her expandable bag with her. Hermione prided herself to have the foresight to keep on hand a variety of clothes on her business trips, just in case the need ever arose.

She rummaged through the bag, discarding several garments before finding one that she deemed appropriate. The sundress was the opposite of what she usually wore, and she had bought it on a whim while in the States a few months ago. It was a bright and playful aqua color, and the fabric light enough that she wouldn't melt in the heat of the Brazilian night.

As she made a last minute change from the practical flats she was wearing into a pair of beachy heels, she heard a knock on the door that alerted her to Malfoy. Grabbing her clutch, she opened the door. "Come in."

Draco stepped in the room, appraising her quickly. "I do say Granger, you clean up nicely."

"Thank you. You are not so bad yourself." She felt like she was clearly in an alternate reality at this point. It was true he did look nice. Tan Khakis and a linen white button down shirt. But still, to give Malfoy a compliment… she smiled to herself, thinking how if Ron was a fly on the wall, he would be going absolutely berserk that she said anything nice to the ferret.

"Of course I do; us Malfoy's always look put together." She was relieved to note that there was no true arrogant air to the comment, instead it was was said with a lightheartedness she was unaccustomed to hear fall from Malfoy's lips.

"So.. drinks you said?" She confirmed hopefully. She had a distinct feeling in order to move past her own prejudices for the evening, alcohol might need to be involved.

"Well, I thought that we could head to the wizarding community in Lapa. I take it you have not had dinner either?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm a bit famished."

Since there was no floo network, they chose to walk since it was not far. Hermione and Draco tried to fill the silence with small talk. She felt strange asking him normal first date questions, and each knew in generalities what the other was up to since school ended. The conversation was stunted, choppy, and just plain awkward.

Finally, after the eighth attempt at benign conversation, Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "I give up, Granger. There is Hippogriff in the room that we just are trying to ignore and I for one do not think it's working. Do you?"

She turned to him, ignoring the people that were pushing past them. "No, it's not."

"We are trying to pretend that I was not an ass to you in school and everything was fine. It wasn't. So let me just say this- I was an prejudiced brat who gained great pleasure in making your life hell. It annoyed the hell out of me that a muggle was top of our class and bested me time and time again. I didn't like you. Wait, I take that back. I didn't just not like you, I loathed you."

Hermione ground her teeth and crossed her arms. "Don't hold back, Malfoy."

He gave a cocky smirk that she wanted to smack off his face. "Trust me, I'm not. So where was I? Oh yeah. I loathed you. I mean, I did not just loathe you but in some ways hated you more than Potter and the Weasel…"

"I get it already!" she was really beginning to get exasperated. "It's not like there was not any love lost on my end either."

Draco chuckled. "And all this time, I thought you were infatuated with me, Granger."

The crowds cleared a bit and Draco began to stroll down the street. Hermione stared after him and when she realized he was not going to wait for her, she rolled her eyes and marched to catch up with him. He continued on with the story, not missing a beat. "So I loathed you. But then there you were, stuck in my hellhole of a Mansion, being attacked by my aunt, and I didn't loathe you quite so much anymore. My life and my parents lives were practically forfeit if we stepped one toe out of line and you… the three of you were all there trying to end the madness and I did nothing to stop it or help you.

"I was a coward, you know. My entire life I had been a coward, hiding behind the threats of tattling to my father, believing that I was superior because I was born not only a pureblood, but a Malfoy pureblood at that. A seed had been planted that night, that perhaps all this superiority rubbish was just that, utter rubbish. Anyways-" he took a deep breath. "After the trials, I sought out a wizard in America who studied Psychology. I pay him very well to help me sort out my issues. I don't hate you anymore, but it took me a long time and a lot of therapy to begin to dispel that notion of superiority.

"Don't get me wrong, I am still an ass and prat, but more of a open minded ass and prat. And for what it's worth," he turned to her, a look passing his face that she couldn't describe. "I should have said this a long time ago. I am sorry. For everything."

Hermione was quiet, taking it all in. Finally, she responded with a simple. "Thank you."

Draco's shoulders relaxed and Hermione had not realized how much tension he had been holding, waiting to hear her response. He cocked his head slightly, looking at her. "So, now that we got that all out of the way. I am in the mood to get thoroughly sloshed. You?"

The restaurant the ended up at was simply called Mágica. It was loud, full of life, and packed to the brim with patrons. The Malfoy name apparently had a far reach, because they were offered to be seated at the best table in the house. They immediately declined, instead choosing two seats at the bar.

Several hours later, they had feasted on local delicacies and had several large glasses of something called a Caipirinha. She was surprised to find that Draco was actually incredibly witty and not bad company. Of course, it might have been the alcohol.

As Draco waved the bartender down for another couple of rounds and a couple of shots, Hermione asked, "Why do you think that the tree chose the two of us? I mean, it's not exactly as if we are on friendly terms, Draco."

"I don't think the tree takes friendliness into account. But on my end, it somewhat makes sense." Draco confessed. "I can't stand dating vapid women. So many women that pursue me are only after my fortune. Many of them, I cannot hold a real conversation with. You are neither of these things. You have your own money from the war and could care less about the Malfoy title, plus you are one of the most intelligent people I know."

Draco grabbed a shot glass and shoved one over to her. "What is this?" she asked, lifting the shot and examining it in the dim lighting.

"Don't ask, Granger. Just drink it." After she gave it another weary glance, he huffed. "Merlin, it's not like I put a… what do muggles call it? Ruffie in it."

"Roofie. It's called a roofie. And I know that." She held the drink towards him. "What should we drink to?"

He held his shot less than an inch from hers. "To getting reacquainted."

"To getting reacquainted," she parroted. They clinked the glasses and threw back the alcohol, slamming the now empty drink on the wooden bar. She shook her head and and gasped at the burning sensation.

Malfoy snickered at her reaction. "As to why the tree chose me for you, well that is obvious."

The bartender placed a new drink in front of Hermione and she took a sip, curious as to his thoughts. "And why is that?"

He leaned in closely to her, the scent of citrus cologne filling her senses. "Because I am incredibly handsome and a fantastic shag."

She pushed him away and he laughed. As they finished their last round, Hermione's eyes kept flitting over to the dance floor, watching the many couples confidently move together in tandem. Her alcoholic addled mind wished that she could dance like that. Draco noticed, and his right hand grasped hers. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Besides being great in bed, I am also a fantastic dancer."

It must have been the liquid courage, because Hermione only weakly protested, "But I don't really dance."

Samba music blared from the speakers and Draco dragged her through the crowd, confidently placing one of her hands on his shoulder and the other firmly in his own when they located an open spot. He began to lead her across the dance floor and Hermione attempted her best to keep up and mimic his movements. She was impressed with his skill. Most men she knew only did that strange shuffle that they passed off for dancing.

"Granger, close your mouth, you'll catch flies." Draco advised casually as he twirled her.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?"

"My mother made me take dance lessons every summer prior to all the...well, let's just say I learned every wizarding waltz to every international type of dance there was. The Samba originated with wizards, you know."

Hermione made a mental note to check out that fact for its accuracy. Draco's hand rested on her waist, and pulled her closer into him, before pushing her lightly away.

It was a constant push and pull throughout the dance. With each push away, he pulled her in closer, her body curving into his. With the final beats of the music, she found her body completely against his and he tightened his grasp against her, pulling her impossibly closer.

She couldn't help but notice that despite his outward appearance of being coltish, his body was well-defined and he clearly took good care of it. Her cheeks flushed as her body reacted to being in such close proximity to his.

She quickly untangled from him and Draco wore a look of satisfaction as if he realized what type of reaction he had on her suddenly. "I'm afraid I need to head back. It's already later than I intended to stay out and tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Are you sure you don't want just one last dance, Granger?" He murmured, his breath tickling her ear, his hands landing on her waist.

She replied much too quickly, "Yes, I'm sure."

When they arrived back at the hotel, Draco walked her to her room. Hermione put the key card in the slot and turned to the Slytherin. He leaned one arm against the wall, looking down at her. "You know, this date didn't go nearly as bad as I thought it would. I must say Granger, it was almost… tolerable."

She raised her eyebrows. "You were still a prat."

"But an open minded prat." he reminded her with an almost gentle smile. With his free hand, his crooked index finger gently lifted up Hermione's chin, raising her brown eyes to his stormy grey ones. "I would like to take you out in London when you return, Hermione."

It was the first time he had used her God given name all evening, and something about the way he said her name was like a soft caress, setting her stomach aflutter. She didn't like it. But what bothered her more was that she didn't not like it either. This was Draco Malfoy, and despite his apologies, his charms, and intelligent wit, she did not know if mentally she was ready to move on from past transgressions. Quietly, she responded, "I'd like to think on that, Draco."

He pulled away, bidding her a quick goodnight. He began to walk away confidently, her response not dissuading him in the least. "When you are done thinking, you know how to find me, Granger."