Chapter 10

In which Hermione and Draco meet.

A/N: This is the standard disclaimer where I state that I don't own any of the characters or the story. I'm just having fun and trying to keep this chapter from being too long. I'm also continuing it at my own pace, not rushing Draco and Hermione through this story. Just a few chapters left.

"Tell me again. Did she seem excited, or scared? I can't believe we're doing this," Draco said as he pulled another pair of black trousers out from his closet and threw them onto his bed. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He was panicked. If he were wearing fine dress robes, he would have been in great shape. He had plenty, and they were custom-tailored, dramatic masterpieces. The problem was that they wouldn't do so well at a Muggle museum, so he was stuck trying to find some of his everyday Muggle clothes that he could piece together for a semi-formal event. So far, he had some black trousers, about twelve pair actually, and a white shirt. "Aagh! I have nothing!" he cried out as he walked over to his dresser and sorted through his cufflinks. "Well, what did she say?" he asked again.

"Draco, darling," the painting said soothingly, "everything is going to be fine. I spoke with her, she is excited to meet you, and you two will get along famously, trust me."

"I'm trying to trust you, but I'm worried that I have gone mad. I'm crazy for Hermione Granger, but I haven't seen her in years, in fact, no one has. I am meeting her in a few hours; I have no idea of what to say to her and absolutely nothing to wear. Aha!" Draco cried as he triumphantly pulled out a pair of platinum cufflinks with a green Slytherin crest.

The Hermione in the painting shook her head and said, "If I were you, I would try to remind her of Hogwarts as little as possible. Slytherin cufflinks are a little much."

"You're right," Draco answered and dropped them back into the drawer, exchanging them for a simple golden oval with the Malfoy crest. "Seriously, what am I going to say when I see her?"

"How about, 'Hello Hermione?'" Narcissa said as she entered Draco's room. She smiled and offered the white package she was holding to her son. "I thought you might need some help with the finer points of Muggle fashion, so I picked this out for you. Your father likes the cut of these suits, and I imagine that this should fit you nicely. I had it custom made from your measurements."

Draco opened the box marked Hugo Boss and pulled out a dark, obviously well tailored suit, a black shirt, and matching black tie. "Thank you," Draco said, walking over and embracing his mother, who was a little surprised. "This helps. I was worried that I was going to look foolish. They had nothing in Diagon Alley that was appropriate."

"You just need to know where to look. Next time, try Bond Street," Narcissa said, sitting on the edge of Draco's bed. "Draco, I don't want you to worry about what to say to her tonight," she started. "Hermione agreed to meet with you, and I am sure that was no easy decision. I have no idea how one lifts an Unplottability Charm. She agreed because you mean something to her, so you have that going for you. Just relax, and treat her nicely." Narcissa looked at the Hermione in the painting for a minute, and watched her get up and walk out of frame. She assumed that she had gone to check on the real Hermione and smiled. "Draco, do you feel any different?" Narcissa asked. "Like the Unplottability Charm has been lifted?"

Draco thought as he buttoned the front of his new form-fitting black shirt. "Now that you mention it," he answered, "I have felt different. It's like I can feel her presence. Like I know she is out there, where before, I guess I didn't. Does that make sense?"

Narcissa smiled and nodded her head slightly as she answered. "Actually it does. There is magic out there that is greater than ordinary spells and potions. It works in and around us, even Muggles. When you experience concentrated instances of magic, like the Unplottability Charm, or maybe that magic painting, you find that magic builds up in the background. It is old magic that works independently. I think that some of that old magic is working here, between you and Hermione. I wouldn't be surprised if you both can feel something, and that you'll feel even more when you meet.

(Break)

"It's just nerves, that's all," Hermione said to her reflection in the mirror as she applied more Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. She kept a vial on hand for the rare times that she wanted to go to the trouble of applying it to tame her hair. Normally she wouldn't have for a work event, but the painting told her that Draco had become enthralled with her ever since seeing her at the Yule Ball when they were at Hogwarts, so she thought she would have a little fun and recreate the hairstyle. Besides, it gave her something to take her mind off her nerves. After the last application, she sat back and admired her up-do with a few strands framing her face strategically. Her hair and make-up were complete, but she was still sitting in her robe. She rose and examined the two dresses laid out on her bed. The little black dress was too predictable, and her other choice was a champagne colored one that made her feel so…old. "Aagh! I have nothing," she exclaimed as she walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen to check that blasted painting again.

"Oooh, don't you look pretty," the Hermione in the painting exclaimed.

"Don't you try and flatter me, where have you been?" Hermione asked.

"Umm, in the other painting of course. It is roomier and more fun. You really should see it sometime. Maybe Draco will invite you back to his place tonight!" The figure in the painting made some rude hip thrusts as she danced around in the tiny frame.

"Right," Hermione said sarcastically. "After all we've been through together, he's just going to forget everything and ask me up to his room to see a painting. Oh yeah, we'll probably fool around a little while we're there. Then I'll have some tea and crumpets with his mother! Don't you see how crazy this is? I cut the entire Wizarding World out of my life, and now I'm letting one person in. Just one, and it is Draco Malfoy of all people. Oh, why am I doing this?" Hermione sighed as she plopped down on her couch.

"Because you need him as much as he needs you," the painting said. "You're both broken and wonderful. You're perfect for each other but have no idea that you are. You agreed to this Hermione, you agreed because you need something real in your life, something real, and I think, magical. Draco is going to be that, trust me."

"God, I hope you're right. Because if you're wrong, this is going to be awful." Hermione looked down at her bare feet and panicked again. "What am I going to do about a dress?"

As if on cue, her door buzzer sounded. Both Hermiones looked over to the intercom, at each other, and then said in unison, "Who could that be?"

Hermione got up from the couch while the painting giggled, and walked over to the buzzer. Before she pressed it, she said, "Hush!" to the little painting and smiled to herself as she spoke through the speaker, "Hi, who is it?"

"I'm looking for Miss Hermione Granger," a woman's voice said in reply.

"Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

"I have a delivery for you. My name is Miriam and I'm from the Chanel Boutique. It is an important package, and I would like to bring it to you if I may."

The Chanel Boutique? Hermione thought. She'd walked down Bond Street before, but never ventured into any of the upscale shops. "Are you sure that it is for me?" Hermione asked, slightly embarrassed.

"Absolutely miss. It was a very unusual transaction, but it is definitely for you. May I come in?"

Hermione shrugged and pressed the buzzer. She heard the outer door open and glared at the painting to insure that it would behave. Looking through her peephole, Hermione saw a woman about her same age carrying a large shopping bag that clearly said Chanel on the side. She looked well dressed, and very normal. Hermione opened her door and the young woman walked right in, ready for business.

"Ok, my name is Miriam, Miss Granger. How much time do we have?" the woman asked.

"I'm sorry, time for what?" Hermione answered.

"Time before your event?"

Hermione looked at a clock and said, "I need to go in about an hour. How did you know?"

"I've had quite an afternoon, let me tell you," Miriam started as she placed the oversized shopping bag on the floor near the painting. "A woman came into the boutique today, a beautiful blonde woman, and started looking at some fantastic new dressess that just came in. I asked her if I could help. We ended up picking out some beautiful things, and then she told me that she was buying them for someone else, and could I please deliver them personally? I told her that we normally don't do those types of things, and that we could arrange a delivery service. She insisted that I take them personally, and make sure that they get to you before your event tonight. I tried to get your address and she said that she couldn't help me at all, and that I would need to find you myself. Very strange, I tell you, but she made me an offer I couldn't refuse, and here I am. Do you mind if we go somewhere I can hang these things up?" she said, gesturing to her bag.

The little Hermione in the painting was jumping up and down with glee as the real Hermione distracted Miriam so that she wouldn't notice an animated, magical painting right behind her.

"Uh, sure. Right this way, let's go into the bedroom," Hermione said, ushering Miriam away and scowling at the painting. "I'm a little surprised by this, to tell you the truth. I wasn't expecting anything, and I don't know anyone that would be shopping for me at Chanel. Who was she?"

"Well, that is the funny thing, Miss Granger. She said she wanted to remain anonymous and she paid cash, so I don't know," Miriam answered as she started taking boxes out and putting them on the bed. "She was very pleasant, and charming, and she certainly had money. Maybe she was your fairy godmother, because the dresses don't come much better than this," she finished, and opened up the first box.

Hermione was hesitant to accept a gift from a mysterious stranger, until she saw what was inside the largest box, a stunning red silk dress. It was perfect, and it captivated her. "Oh, it's beautiful," she said, unable to stop herself as she took the dress from Miriam and held it up to admire it in the mirror. It was a beautiful deep red, just the right length, with a neckline that would accentuate her cleavage, but not show too much. "May I try it on?" she asked.

"It's yours. Yes, do put it on. Here are the shoes and if they don't fit, I have a few extra…" Miriam was cut off by Hermione's joyful laughter, her snatching the shoes away, and running into the bathroom to try them all on.

Several minutes later, Miriam was all packed up and heading out the door of Hermione's flat. She hugged Hermione goodbye and left. She was happy to have helped out someone like Hermione, and the thousand Pound tip from Hermione's mysterious benefactor didn't hurt either.

(Break)

Well-heeled guests were sipping champagne and congratulating Hermione on her exhibit. Lords and Ladies, who had given large donations just to be able to attend parties, actually enjoyed the art Hermione had chosen for her retrospective of 20th Century European Oil Paintings. Many rich gentlemen pulled their jealous wives over to get a closer look at the beautiful Assistant Director of the European Gallery, and wondered why she wasn't in charge of whatever went on here. More than one man felt a sharp tug on his arm from his date for staring at Hermione too long.

Hermione was immune to all this attention because, although she pretended to pay attention to conversations and congratulations, she was completely focused on the doorway and watching for Draco to enter. She was nervous, and the anticipation was killing her.

Draco was sitting in his car, a black Porsche 911 GT3, staring at the valet who was waiting for him to open the door. What am I doing here? He thought to himself as the valet tapped on the window again. Pull yourself together man; this is what you've been wanting all along. Just be cool, be respectful, and listen.

"Sir, would you like to leave your car? I can keep it out front for you if you are worried about it," the young man offered helpfully.

Draco took a deep breath, exited the car, and tossed the key to the valet nonchalantly. He steeled himself and called out over his shoulder, "Leave the keys in the ignition in case I have to leave in a hurry." He then walked up to the main entrance of the museum where a large man with a clipboard and headset stood checking people off the list. Draco stood in the short queue with a few couples.

"Good evening sir, may I have your name please?" the man at the door asked when it was his turn.

"The name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," Draco responded, trying to act cool and hide the fact that he was panicked that his name wouldn't be on the list.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, do come in. We've been expecting you," the man said, ushering Draco inside. "If you follow this red carpet, it will lead you to the European Gallery, and everything you are looking for should be in there."

You don't know how right you are, Draco thought as he forced himself to walk, not run, down the carpet.

(Break)

"…and then he said, I wouldn't touch that for ten thousand pounds!" the older gentleman finished, and the small crowd of men all erupted in laughter. They were standing in a huddle around Hermione, all admiring her, and sipping their watered down drinks.

Hermione was bored and slightly disgusted, as they kept invading her personal space. This was the third time she had been cornered and she was beginning to think that wearing such a spectacular dress had been a mistake. Especially if he's not coming, she thought.

Draco saw her from across the room. She looked absolutely stunning. He didn't think that she could have been more beautiful than he imagined, but she was. The dress that she was wearing was amazing, and he wanted nothing more than to go to her and take her in his arms. However, now that he was on the edge of actually talking to her, he realized how unworthy he was. She was brilliant, beautiful, successful, and he wondered what she would possibly want with him.

At that moment, Hermione turned her head and saw Draco. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in a 'help me' gesture.

Draco realized that this was his moment, and kept his eyes locked with hers as he strode over to the group. He deftly passed through the throng of men, and extended his hands as he said, "Hermione, I'm so sorry that I'm late." He kissed her on the cheek in greeting as their hands came together.

The men realized that Hermione was taken and reluctantly dispersed. However, Hermione and Draco did not move. There was something about their touch that was so…magical. They were frozen together, just touching. It didn't seem awkward at all. In fact, it felt perfect. Draco took in her smell, cinnamon and roses, and he remembered sitting next to her in Potions class all those years ago. Hermione was snuggled into Draco's neck as she held his hands, and she felt so comfortable, so safe. They both came to at the same instant.

"Hello," Hermione said, still holding Draco's hands.

"Hello," Draco answered. "It's good to see you again. Thank you for inviting me."

"You're welcome. I was a little nervous, but I feel much better now."

"I do too. It's weird, but I feel so…"

"Comfortable," they said simultaneously and laughed.

Draco and Hermione held hands as they walked over to the drinks table.

"So, how have you been?" Draco asked as they waited in the queue for drinks.

"Good. Busy with work, but I'm finished with this project at least. I'm really glad you came," Hermione said, leaning over and whispering in Draco's ear. "This dress has been getting a lot of attention, and I'm glad you rescued me."

"Hermione," Draco said, gently squeezing her hand. "It's not the dress, it's you. You look amazing. Listen, thanks for letting me in, there are so many things I want to apologize…"

"Shh," Hermione said, putting a single finger up to his lips. "No apologies." She turned to the bartender and ordered another glass of white wine.

"I'll have a Coke," Draco said.

"A Coke?" Hermione joked. "That's surprising."

"How so?"

"I guess I thought you wouldn't know what a Coke is."

"Hermione, there is a lot about me that you don't know. I'd like the chance to show you that I am not the same person I was. Hopefully I'm better," Draco said, smiling and taking his drink and her hand again, and lead them to the edge of the room where they could talk freely. "I know about Muggles, I've spent a lot of time among them since the trials ended. I know about Coke, cars, and I even brought Muggle money to take you out to dinner, if you'll go." Draco was surprised at how easily it was to speak from the heart to Hermione. He could feel what his mother had been talking about, there was some old magic working here.

"I would like that. I'd like to see you drive a car, and your Muggle suit is very handsome," she said, pulling on the hand she was holding to get a good look at him. She was amazed at how easy it was being with Draco. There was no more fear or worry, being with him just felt right. It was like a piece of her life had just fallen into place.

"Thanks. I'm a little embarrassed to say that my mother picked it out for me from a fancy shop on Bond Street. I realized too late that I didn't have the right Muggle suit for tonight, and dress robes would have looked a little out of place. But truly Hermione, you look wonderful," Draco said, pulling her gently towards him, and looking into her eyes.

"Bond Street?" Hermione mused, smiling. "By any chance would your mother be described as blonde, beautiful, pleasant, and charming?"

"Maybe, why?" Draco asked, as Hermione came even closer on her own.

"Well, a mysterious woman fitting that description purchased this dress, and asked one of the clerks to make sure that it was delivered personally this afternoon."

"My mother does have good taste," Draco said, letting go of Hermione's hand and placing his at the small of her back while he brought her still closer.

"Mmm-hmm," Hermione agreed as their lips met for the first time.

(Break)

Draco held the door while Hermione sat in the passenger seat. As she sat in the low-slung sports car, her dress slid up dangerously. She caught Draco staring appreciatively and smiled to herself. Draco walked to the other side of his car and took a deep breath of the night air, trying to relax. The old magic was getting to him, and it was hard to keep his hands off Hermione. That first kiss sent a strong tingling sensation straight to his core, and he imagined that Hermione felt the same.

"This is a nice car," Hermione said as Draco sat down. "Did you drive it here from Malfoy Manor?"

"No, I keep it in a garage in Kensington. They take good care of it, and don't ask questions. I have some basic shield charms on it, so I don't have to worry about anyone damaging it." Draco put the car into first and his left hand brushed up against Hermione's knee. He felt that same tingling sensation, and looked to see if she felt it too. The way she stared straight ahead and swallowed very noticeably made him sure that she felt it too. "Speaking of Kensington, there is a nice little place just off the High Street. Would that be good?" Draco reached out to touch her hand while stopped at a light. "We could go somewhere fancier if you'd like."

"That sounds great. I'd like somewhere that we could sit and talk," she answered, squeezing his hand in return.

After a few minutes, Draco pulled into a nondescript doorway just off of Kensington Church Street and hit a remote on his visor. The door opened quickly and shut behind him as he entered. It was a nice garage, filled with impressive Rolls, Bentley, and Aston Martin cars. Draco pulled into a space and got out to open the door for Hermione. They walked to the exit, passing a very old, white haired man who was dressed in a conservative gray suit.

"Evening, Mr. Malfoy," the man said.

Hermione eyed the man, checking to see if he could see her or not.

"Charles, this is an old friend of mine," Draco said. "I'd like to introduce you to Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Charles Dowling. He is in charge of everything here."

Hermione smiled warmly at the man and shook hands with him. "Pleased to meet you," she said, impressed that Draco was on such gracious terms with a Muggle. He actually had manners, and his mother was even described as pleasant and charming. Things have changed since I've been gone, she thought.

"The pleasure's all mine miss," Charles responded as he opened the outside door for the couple. "Have a nice night," he added.

They walked down the street, quietly holding hands like it was the most normal thing in the world for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy to be doing. They were both enjoying the feeling of holding hands, and didn't want to let go.

"Draco," Hermione started. "It's really impressive, how you've…"

"How I've changed?" Draco asked as Hermione nodded in agreement. "How I could treat a Muggle with respect, when you remember a spoiled, Pureblood Wizard brat?" They walked a little further before Draco continued, "When my parents and I were tried and sentenced to Azkaban after the War, we lost everything. Our property, our good family name as well as our belief structure. We thought we were the top of Wizarding society at one time, and then we were lower than anyone, human or otherwise, could be. That is a life-changing experience. We left Wizarding society. We starting trying Muggle restaurants, stores, resorts, you name it. They saw us as a little odd at first, but we began to blend in and even made friends. We couldn't invite them over for dinner or anything, but we connected with people on a different level than we had before. I think it made us better." Draco stopped in front of a doorway and took both of Hermione's hands. It was a mild April night, and she was wearing a light wool coat that kept her warm, but Draco felt the need to pull her close just the same. As he brought her toe-to-toe with him, he said very sincerely, "I'm sorry for everything. I promise that I will never, ever treat you poorly again."

For the second time that night, their lips met. This time it was Hermione that pulled Draco towards her. This kiss was more passionate than the first, and they both were completely engulfed in each other. Their bodies resonated with the touch, and their kiss became more and more powerful until they were forced to separate by fear of not knowing what they might do next on this public street. Draco then steered Hermione towards a rustic door at the end of a cul-de-sac, and they entered a charming, and bustling restaurant.

The crowd was slightly overwhelming, and they each knew that it was too loud and lively for the intimacy they were craving.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" a friendly looking woman cried out as she navigated the crowd to reach the couple. "A table for two? I'm so sorry; it might be a few minutes. I don't know what happened; we just got so busy about an hour ago."

"Just one minute, Maggie," Draco said as he leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear. "This isn't really what I had in mind. Let's get out of here."

Hermione smiled and nodded, Draco thanked the hostess and opened the door for Hermione. Once outside in the quiet street, they laughed.

"I'm sorry about that, it is usually quiet," Draco said, thinking that it was usually a very relaxed place, but tonight it seemed they were hosting a rugby team. If he didn't know better, he would think that something didn't want them eating there. "I'm not so sure where else we could go around here, since it is getting late. I should have had a backup plan," Draco said earnestly. "I don't want to treat you to fast food on our first date."

"I would invite you to my flat, but I might only have one cup of noodles," Hermione said, laughing at their predicament as they walked back down the sidewalk.

"Well, here's a thought. We could go back to my place. When's the last time that you had a home cooked meal made by a House-elf?"

"It's been a long time, but I don't know about the House-elf thing. You know how I feel about…"

This time it was Draco that stopped her by pressing his finger to her lips. "I do remember how you felt about House-elves, and how you started S.P.E.W. in school. I remember everything you did, Hermione. I watched you all the time. I was angry back then; angry about how different we were, and so alike. How much I wanted you, but couldn't talk to you and how I wanted to put all of my Pureblood ideals behind me, just so that you would notice me, but I couldn't."

Hermione moved into Draco and put her arms around him as he continued.

"We haven't had a family House-elf in years. The ones that help us are free, and have agreed to be there. We treat them respectfully, and they take good care of us in return."

Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes, as she reached up to kiss Draco for the third time that evening. It was soft, and full of emotion. Hermione felt so connected to Draco, like he had grown into the idea of her perfect man, and she just wanted to feel his warmth, and hold him close. They say that the third time's the charm, and this third kiss was the one that made her trust him.

"Let's go," Hermione said breathlessly when their lips separated. "Maybe I can see the larger painting after all."

"You're ok with me Apparating us to the Manor? Are you sure?"

"Draco, that was a long time ago. The Manor is just a building. Bellatrix scared me, the building didn't."

Draco smiled, and put his arm around Hermione as they Disapparated from the deserted street.