A/N: I kept you waiting didn't I? Longer than I meant to as well but it's here now. Let's see what Draco's up to shall we…
Chapter 2
The day so far had been nothing short of bag of hippogriff dung. First, Potter called in sick, leaving Draco to take point on the raid to bust up a unicorn smuggling ring. Honestly, that would've been fine except for the fact that taking point on a case meant triple the paperwork when he got back. Yes, he could usually pass the paperwork off to Granger but that particular witch had been getting more and more irate with him for doing so lately.
Every time he walked into her office, before he'd even said anything, she got so mad that she'd splutter and go completely red in the face with indignation; she could barely get a word out other than calling him 'prat', 'git' or in his opinion, her personal favourite, 'ferret', and that was just how she greeted him. Seriously? Am I never going to live that one down?
The truth was if it was anyone else, literally any other witch, he'd think she had the hots for him. In his opinion that really wouldn't be such a bad thing since the feeling would be entirely mutual. Hermione Granger had always been to him, the forbidden fruit. Granted, she was still a swot but the way she always had her wild hair pulled so tight out of her face, and those reading glasses she'd started wearing, along with those short skirts she started wearing since she, and more importantly he, discovered she had amazing legs, there was this sexy librarian thing she had happening that he found almost completely irresistible. Just the slightest hint that she was actually interested and he'd be on her like Weasley on a bacon sandwich.
Chance would be a fine thing. He thought sadly with a frown. His interest in the witch had grown exponentially since they started working together three years ago and whilst she'd accepted his apology for the past, their bickering could still win awards – even if there was no real malice left in it – except when she threatened to turn him back into a ferret. That was just cutting below the belt. She hadn't done it yet but she'd warned he was skating on thin ice.
Blaise seemed to think it was sexual tension. So did Potter. And Snape. And his parents. They'd all mentioned at one time or another, when he'd been complaining about her complete inability to let him get close to her that it was because she was scared of combusting. He took none of them seriously. Things with Granger were never gonna happen. He just had to accept that.
He looked into Potter's office as he passed by on his way to Granger's – 'Bollocks is he sick. Probably just spending the day in bed with his missus. Lucky bastard.' Whilst Draco would never admit it out loud, he was rather jealous of the life Potter had with his family. His own wife had died four years ago after complications with giving birth and he hadn't been able to bring himself to start seeing anyone since. He felt rather pathetic that he was a man in his mid-twenties who hadn't got laid for over four years. And he hated feeling pathetic. Malfoys were not allowed to be pathetic.
He reached her office with a sigh of resignation. The door was closed which seemed unusual but he assumed she just wanted no interruptions for something. Tough. He really couldn't be bothered with this paperwork so she would just have to suck it up. It was technically her job anyway, even if he left half of his job not done because he knew she'd fill in the blank sections for him when she viewed the memories that went with the reports to check for discrepancies.
Opening the door, he noticed the office was in darkness.
Where the fuck is she?
Even though on Fridays, office staff could take a half day, Granger never had. At least not in living memory. She was always sitting right there. Gorgeous legs crossed under the open desk, one heel dangling from dainty foot; wand pushed through the severe bun on top of her head, chewing on the end of a quill with her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. It was the sexiest thing he saw all week and he needed that fix to him through the weekend.
He approached the desk and saw a note facing him on the top.
Took my half day for change. Needed a breather.
Malfoy – do your own paperwork!
"Bitch! He said with a strange grin on his face. Not that he'd ever really admit it but it was something of a turn on when she called him on his bullshit. Not that he'd do as she said. He dumped the file and three memory phials into her in-tray before going back to his office to change into his regular robes and head home. If she could take a half day, so could he.
He had literally been back at the Manor for ten minutes. He'd walked in, kissed his son who was colouring in with Teddy Lupin whilst Narcissa and Andromeda chatted and drank wine, and ordered a cup of tea from a house elf before heavily plonking himself down in the nearest plush armchair. That was all he'd got done with his half day before the patronus arrived. Cantering toward him with a blue-silver glow the large patronus halted in front of the coffee table before him.
"Draco… I believe it would be in your best interests to join your father and me at The Three Broomsticks for lunch. There is a rather… int-er-esting show going on which trust me when I tell you… you do not want to miss."
"For fuck's sake," Draco muttered under his breath as his Godfather's doe patronus disappeared. "That's all I need." They act like children when they've been drinking.
He hauled himself back out of the luxurious comfort of his mother's favourite armchair with considerable effort and a put up on sigh of resignation. Rolling his eyes at the annoyance of having to go out, he headed back towards his mother and aunt to let them know their babysitting duties were not as done for the day as they thought.
Hogsmeade had pretty much returned to normal in the six years since the war. A few of the shops were different but The Three Broomsticks was still the hallmark of the area with its warm crackling fires, friendships and laughter in every booth and cold butter beers waiting for eager students to try and get when they're too young on weekends.
Draco had approached the pub with growing apprehension. Something in his Godfather's voice during that message had sounded entirely too 'up-to-something'. Of course Slytherin's were always up to something but this seemed like a certain type of something that would leave him cursing himself for leaving the house.
Three foot out from reaching his destination, a ripple of magic confirmed his suspicions. He recognised the energy signature of the magic – his father's. He recognised the actual magic. An exact replica of one the wards at the Manor; a powerful one which meant only someone with Malfoy blood could pass through it – unless on the arm of a Malfoy with the express consent of that Malfoy.
Well, he thought with a deep breath and an impending sense of doom, here goes nothing.
A/N: Can I really be that much of a bitch and stop here? Of course, I can. I'm a Slytherin witch who got her evil cliffy mojo back. But I am working on chapter 3 right now. Please review…
Love and Blessings (see I can be nice too)
Moon x