A/N: Thanks for the new Reviews, favs, and follows. This short chapter and the next was originally one chapter but some new material was added and it got broken into two chapters. I'm submitting chapters faster than I'm coming up with new material, so I hope this will do.

And Wake Me With The Morning Light

10. Coupon Book

Some of the finest offices in the Ministry were huge airy things with slick black enabled walls and gilt trim. But Hermione's office had walls covered in a butter cream plaster, streaked grey and cracked from the years of neglect. In the days following the accident, she tried to concentrate on work but often found herself staring at these very walls.

But there was so much to think about. How would be define her feelings for Draco now? Regardless of her marital status it sure as hell wasn't love. Just because she shagged the man Saturday night, and repeated the mistake again Sunday morning didn't mean she was anywhere nearer to that. Fondness? No, that wasn't quite the correct word either. Comfortable – yes that was it. She was more comfortable around Draco now. She no longer felt she might wake up and find this was all a terrible hoax. Although the thought still crossed her mind from time to time.

Nevertheless, she had come to realize her worst fears; she had gone to bed with a man she didn't love and enjoyed it. In addition to that, re-assembling her past would be difficult if not impossible now. Sex had changed everything. It didn't look like there would be any way to resume her old plan now. Or was it?

Deep in thoughts, Hermione was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Imelda Thornbottom could be as nice as anybody you've ever worked with, when the time was right. When the time wasn't right, she could be a real pain in the arse.

"Hermione," she said, immediately upon springing into Hermione's office.

"Yes Imelda?"

"Do you have that report ready? The one on protected lands for Thestral grazing?" she demanded.

Hermione tried not to look surprised and shook her head. "Uh, no, uh – not yet – almost done," she lied, unconvincingly. In truth she'd forgotten all about the damn thing.

Imelda looked deeply troubled. It was never a good thing when Imelda was deeply troubled.

"Hermione – I need that by COB today – do you understand? I have a meeting with the governors in two days. I'll need to read over that report well ahead of time. Is that clear?"

"I'll have it ready after lunch," Hermione fired back, trying to make amends with the angry witch.

"COB is fine," she said, unemotionally and did a dancers spin on one heel and left the room.

Damn, she muttered. The memo to do Imelda's report had arrived on her desk last Thursday. She'd been so busy with Draco, trying to get him to the party, she'd forgotten all about it. Draco and the party. She shook her head at the thought of Draco, the party, and the evening after.

And it wasn't just Saturday night. Saturday night she could blame on the wine. But the Sunday morning encore? The thought caused her to blush. And like most things that one tried hard not think about, it turned out to be damn near impossible to put out of her mind.

But he was her husband, and she kept repeating this to herself but it didn't help. Sure, rationally the decision to go to bed with Draco was perfectly acceptable. But in her heart all she could feel was the pain from the pranks he played in school and the last thing she felt was anything like being this man's wife. But Draco on the other hand behaved for all the world as if he was married, and in some strange way this seemed to make things more acceptable.

After Sunday morning, it was tempting to say 'to hell' with her memory problems, and simply go along with Hippocrates' advice and just get on with the business of life. But she couldn't or wouldn't and didn't really know which.

On the morning after, Draco looked for all the world like the cat who had eaten the canary. But his gloating soon changed. She explained to him how she was still in a period of 'transition', and every word of their conversation came back to her clearly.

"What the hell does that mean?" he had asked.

"I mean about last night - there was something I didn't like about it," she confessed.

Draco looked at the witch curiously as if weighing her comments carefully. "Well, I sure things will get better. You didn't seem to have a problem last night."

Hermione blushed. "I know – that's what bothers me."

"Hermione, you're not making sense."

"Draco, I'm still trying to reassemble the past and I need your help."

"Well, you've got it love."

"No I won't. We won't get anything done if we're sleeping together every night," she said.

"So what does this mean," he asked, sensing a change in the witch.

"It means you sleep on the couch tonight."

"Are you mental? After last night? Are you serious?"

She frowned at the reply, but had to admit the blonde wizard made a good point.

"Draco, I'm sorry – I hope I haven't mislead you, and I hope last night doesn't turn out to be a mistake."

"Mistake? You didn't seem to be worried about that last night," he quipped and she blushed again.

"I know and I feel like a shameless tart. Look, Hippocrates had counseled me to get on with life, so that's what I did. But now... I think our relationship should get back to being a little more business-like."

"Business-like? I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"Wrong idea – are you mental? You're my wife..."

"I want you to work with me – help me remember. You won't do that with conjugal visits every night."

"Arrrggghhh," Draco moaned, with hands squeezing his temples. "I don't believe this."

"Look, we'll work out a compromise," she suggested.

"A compromise – Hermione, that's mental. If you could only hear yourself," he snarled, and Hermione stood fast, eyes narrowed, with hands on her hips.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Once again, Hermione was pulled from the dream, and she looked over to see Ginny standing in the doorway and wearing a smile.

"Ginny!" greeted Hermione. "Come in."

"Good morning girlfriend. Just thought I'd check on you."

"Yeah?"

"How'd Saturday night go?"

"Well, I had a good time – you were there."

"Ah yes," Ginny replied with a wry grin. "And how about Draco – he looked a little out of it."

"Oh he enjoyed the party – and the night after I think."

"That's good. Harry and I just thought he looked a little... well, not quite himself."

"Uhm, I never knew Harry to be so considerate of Draco."

"Well, Harry's been quite impressed with how Draco's stood up to all of this."

"To all of this?" Hermione asked, looking a little perturbed.

Ginny hung on the reply.

"At being shut out an all. It's hard on a guy you know."

Now it was Hermione's turn to stall.

"He's doing fine – just fine," she lied.

"Well, that's good to hear, and I hope Rolf didn't get on your nerves. Sometimes he's too much."

"Yeah, he kept hounding Draco for details. It was if he knew Draco is out of work."

"Don't see how he would, unless Luna had already heard, " Ginny replied, "but we were thinking of going out again – before Luna and Rolf leave for their next outing. We were just wondering if you two are up for another?"

"When?"

"In the next couple of weeks?"

"I think so – we'll try."

"You think Draco's up to it?"

"I think I might persuade him."

"Oh really," Ginny replied. "I can never persuade Harry to do anything he doesn't want to."

"Maybe you're not using the right forms of persuasion," Hermione snapped back.

"Well, fill me in girlfriend?"

"Can't," Hermione announced and jumped up. "Got to finish this report and then spin down to the art department."

‡‡‡‡‡

For most of the afternoon Hermione had been torn with thoughts of the report and Ginny's visit. Just why the hell had the ginger haired witch gone to the trouble to stop by rather than just send an Owl. It all seemed so puzzling. But she had to admit that she seemed to have problems with the simple things lately.

Struggling through the maze of distraction, Hermione barely finished Imelda's report by the close of business. Imelda, upon receiving it, scanned through the report, made a few unintelligible grunts and finally thanked her before breezing out the door. As soon as the report was handed off, Hermione made off to the magical art department to begin her secret project.

Back at home, Draco was moping around the flat and responding to her questions about his day with monosyllabic grunts. He was carrying on as if forced to suffer through some great injustice. Still, all the same, he had dinner on the table and claimed to be still looking for suitable employment. She still hadn't mentioned Ginny's plans for another night out.

She figured after dinner would be as good a time as any.

"You're quiet tonight," she said at last. "You still pissed?"

Draco glared but didn't speak.

"I was thinking about our compromise," she announced.

"Our compromise – you mean your compromise."

"Now cut that out," she snapped. "I'm trying to help. I'm trying to be practical."

"Practical," he rolled the syllables off his tongue.

"Yes, and I thought this might help," she added and placed a little colored booklet on the table. "Made it today at the art department. Had to wait till everyone was gone."

Draco looked out the corner of his eye at the booklet on the table.

"What the hell's that?"

"Take a look," she said and shoved it across the table.

With a smug expression, Draco reached over the table and grabbed up the booklet.

"Sexual Favors Coupon Book for Draco Malfoy," he said. "Is this a bit of fun?"

"For sure, but it is for real – check it out."

Draco thumbed through the colored pages and read out loud.

"This coupon entitles the bearer on demand (Draco Malfoy) to one: Wobbly Knees Wednesdays," he said and looked up smiling. He thumbed through several more pages. "And, Fortuitous Fridays, and a Sultry Saturday Night All-Nighter." he went on and looked firmly at Hermione. "Is this some kind of joke?"

She shook her head. "It's for real"

"And this what you do at work?" he asked.

"Sometimes. Anyway, you get to use one coupon per week – at least to start with – what do you think?"

"You need to see Hippocrates twice a week."

"Well, if you don't want it I'll throw it away," she said and reached for the book.

He reached out and slammed his hand over the top of the book and drug it toward him.

"Maybe I am mental," she continued. "But I want you to work with me Draco. I want you to help me re-construct my memory."

Draco nodded and then lifted his hand and looked down at the book.

"But it doesn't have to be all work," she went on.

"No, of course not," he quipped.

"I just thought that this way – I could get what I want and you could... well get what you want."

"That's not all I want," he looked up and dead serious.

"I know – and I'm working on that too."

There was a long pause.

"Well," she said and crossed her arms. "Are we good here?"

"We're good."

"Fine, because the girls are planning another do for Luna and Rolf, and I'd like you to come."

"Not another one," he lamented.

"I'm afraid so. And if you go – the coupon book might come in handy later."

Draco curled one corner of his mouth into a grin.

"Yeah, I just might have to tear me off a strip."