A/N - This is the first one-shot I've ever written for the DFFR 2.0 Magical Mayhem Fest. The prompt was "Wand Switch". I really enjoyed writing Theo's character in this story because it is exactly as I imagine him to be.

"If you walk into that bookstore, our friendship is over!" Theo warned, his arms folded across his chest and feet stomped firmly in place like a petulant toddler having a tantrum. Why were all of Draco's friends so bloody dramatic?

"Given the choice between books and our 25 years of friendship, I much prefer the company of books," the blond wizard turned briefly, so Theo could witness the poignant way Draco's eyes rolled back in his head before turning on the heel of his dragon-hide boots toward Flourish and Blotts.

"You're such a prat, Malfoy!" Theo called after him. "How will I ever show my face again when I am dropped by my best mate for some boring old books?" he whined, failing to capture his friend's attention as the door to the shop closed firmly behind the blond wizard.

The smell of parchment and ink arrested Draco's senses, immediately bringing him back to his days at school when books were his only escape from false friendships and the pressures of upholding his father's impossible standards. He missed spending his summers camped out in the overhead reading nook of this very shop while his father conducted business somewhere in Knockturn Alley.

Returning to his favorite bookstore was one of the things Draco had looked forward to most when he'd decided to move back to England a couple of months ago. After a two-year stint in Azkaban, he'd spent the last five years in Belgium apprenticing to become a Potions Master. Regardless of his father's contempt for his dream career choice, Potions Master was a title he'd always secretly hoped to earn before his entire life was thrown into the rubbish bin during his sixth year at Hogwarts.

These days he hardly cared what his father thought about anything. May he rot in his lonely, frozen cell, thank you very much. If it weren't for him, Draco would never have been sent to Azkaban in the first place. The way things turned out, he was lucky it was only two years. He'd have spent longer there had it not been for the testimonies of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the two people that shouldn't care in the least about what happened to him. In an odd turn of events, Potter had become a sort of pen pal to Draco while he was locked away, and they'd developed a friendship. Though he hadn't seen much of the bespeckled wizard since the day of his trial, they'd owled frequently over the years. It was actually at Harry's insistence that Draco gained the confidence to move to Belgium for his apprenticeship upon his release from prison.

As he scanned the shelves, he continued to add his selections to a small pile of literature that floated behind him. He finally had some time to read for pleasure. As luck would have it, his favorite author from his childhood, Rupert Evander, had belatedly released the final book in a series Draco had followed since he was 13 years old. It was juvenile, but a much-needed break. All he'd been reading lately were books about either potions or business management. Unlike his father, Draco didn't care much for managing a business. That was Nott's area of expertise. Last month, they'd opened up an apothecary together. Theo ran the everyday operations while Draco brewed all of the potions. It was a perfect match since the blond wizard didn't have a penchant for dealing with the general public, and the young Nott hadn't advanced past fifth year in potions.

The two became reacquainted after the war when Draco had come home to visit his mother a couple of years ago. The two wizards hit it off when they realized neither of them was still brainwashed with the old pureblooded ideals. The idea to open an apothecary together was an idea born of two rich heirs that didn't want to become like their fathers and far too much Firewhisky.

"I'll make you a deal," Theo said, suddenly beside Draco, leaning on a bookshelf. "If you're finished in this shop within the next twenty minutes, I will allow us to remain friends," he offered, staring down at his nails with disinterest. The blond wizard turned toward his friend to make a snide remark when a witch at the end of the aisle caught his attention. Her back was to him and she too had a stack of books floating beside her too. From what Draco could tell, a few titles matched the ones he had chosen for himself. Muggle jeans and a fitting blue t-shirt showcased her slender figure with curves in all the right places, and his fingers longed to grab a fistful of the long, curly hair cascading down her back. She was a short little thing too. At 6'2", most witches were smaller than him, but there was something about towering over a fiery little witch that drove him mad. Not that he'd had much opportunity to explore those particular things since his mother insisted on setting him up on dates even while he was abroad. It didn't matter what they looked like because they were all the same to him: snooty, pureblooded witches that would agree with everything he said. Where was their passion? He wanted someone to challenge him, make him feel something, and a witch that would be happy to speak her mind. At least this witch before him read something other than the society pages. If her front was half as decent as her back, she'd check a few boxes on Draco's checklist for what he considered to be the perfect woman.

"I think I'd rather make a new friend today," he smirked as he made an attempt to move past Theo toward the witch.

"You're going to chat her up...in a book store no less?" the dark-haired wizard questioned skeptically.

"When else would I speak to her, you daft wizard? Look, she's looking at a display for the very book I was looking to find, and nearly half of her other selections match my own," Draco explained, gesturing toward the woman. "It's serendipitous, really."

"Serendipitous?" Theo cocked his head to the side in confusion before his furrowing eyebrows turned up in understanding. "You know, you're right. Get over there, mate. I bet she's perfect for you," he said with an evil grin. Rolling his eyes, Draco playfully pushed his friend out of the way as he marched up behind the petite witch.

"Have you been waiting for the final book in this series for the past eight years as I have?" Draco asked, reaching over the witch's shoulder to grab a copy.

"It was my favorite series as a girl. It's hard to believe the author finally finished it," she replied as she turned to look up at him. He kept his eyes down on the book cover for a moment longer trying to play it cool.

"It's not every day I meet a beautiful witch that shares my taste in reading material," the blond wizard chanced a flirtatious tone before he finally looked down at her. Instead of meeting the eyes of a stranger, he found himself staring into the eyes of an astonished Hermione Granger. Merlin, had she grown up to be beautiful. They gaped at one another for an immeasurable amount of time before she finally spoke.

"Malfoy?" she asked as if she couldn't believe it was him.

"Granger...-er Her-... Hermione Granger?" he replied dumbly. "Thank you! I never had the chance to…-er…" he trailed off nervously when her confusion turned into shock.

"Why are you thanking me?" she questioned shyly, searching his eyes with her own curious brown orbs. There were long flecks of yellow in her irises. He'd never had an opportunity to notice before. Her eyes were like warm chocolate with little unexpected streams of caramel running through them. She quietly cleared her throat, snapping him back to reality to answer her question.

"Well, you see, I thanked Potter years ago, through letters, of course, but you deserved more from me. I was terrible to you, but you saved me anyway. You didn't have to, but you did, and I wanted to properly thank you in person," he rambled on. This apology was not going as planned. In his head, he'd never been this nervous when he finally had the opportunity to thank her for the part she played in his trial.

"I saved you?" the poor witch was baffled, probably for the first time in her life.

"My trial. You spoke for me," Draco attempted to explain. Hermione pouted and averted her eyes.

"They sent you to Azkaban anyway," she whispered sadly. "I contested your case, but they wanted to make an example of your family. They told us that the wizarding world would be up in arms if both your mother and you had gotten off too easily. Since you'd taken the Mark, they decided to make you the scapegoat even if you were just a boy. I'm so sorry," she looked defeated. Without thinking, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. The Gryffindor witch was so startled, her wide-eyed expression was almost comical.

"Granger, please don't apologize to me. If it weren't for your testimony, I'd still be rotting in my cell. I'm trying to thank you, and I've bollocksed it all up," he ran his free hand through his hair. "The way I wrote it was much more eloquent, I swear it," he stammered like a fool. What was it about this witch that had him tied in knots?

"You wrote an apology to me?" she asked, her eyes shifted momentarily to where his hand still held her shoulder, but he made no effort to remove it. He was rather drawn to the flush that crept up her collarbone and dusted her cheeks.

"Yes, though I hadn't meant to tell you that part," Draco confessed before he could stop himself. "It's a fitting apology for the Golden Girl if I do say so myself," he smiled at her. Another blush. The curly-haired witch closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

"You liked this series?" Hermione changed the subject as she turned toward the display of books, causing his hand to drop from her shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted his own disappointment with the broken contact.

"They were my favorite," he admitted.

"Mine too," she shyly peeked up at him before cocking her head in bewilderment. "But the main character is Muggle-born?"

"Ah, yes he is, which is why I had to hide up there to read them," he pointed to the hidden reading nook. "Or wait for the Hogwarts library to order a copy, so my father would never know. I shudder to think what he might have done if he caught me," he grinned, making light of the situation even though his father would have punished him severely for reading "Muggle indoctrination" as he called it. To his surprise, Hermione smiled back. Salazar's balls, how had he never noticed how striking she was? Perhaps, it was because her smile had never been intended for him. Either way, he noticed her now.

"You'll have to excuse me," she sputtered suddenly, panicking as she checked her watch. "I have an international Portkey to catch in less than fifteen minutes," Hermione rushed as she gathered her books in her arms and shoved her wand in her handbag, the tip of it sticking out of the top.

"Allow me," Draco offered, unwilling to let their pleasant reacquaintance end so quickly. He pulled out his wand and floated their books to the register and pulled out a few Galleons to pay.

"Malfoy, please. I couldn't possibly let you buy all those books for me," she started to swat his hands away and reach for her bag, but he dropped his wand on the counter and grabbed for her fingers, holding them firmly in his much larger hand. If she would have allowed it, Draco would have bought her the entire bookstore.

"It's the very least I can do," he said as he shot her a pleading look that always worked on his mother when he wanted something as a boy. Hermione's eyes softened and she gave him a stiff nod. "If I'm lucky, we can...meet for tea somewhere and discuss some of these books we have in common," he stated matter-of-factly, afraid to look at her reaction to his unplanned invitation. In response, the curly-haired witch was silent while he finished paying and handed her the bag of books. How embarrassing! She must be completely appalled that he was...what? Flirting with her? Is that what he was doing? He braved a glance in her direction. To his surprise, she wasn't scowling.

"Thank you," Hermione said with a slight smile. "It was surprisingly nice to see you, but you really don't owe me anything. If you want to discuss books, I'd like that, but please don't feel obliged," she finished, looking up at him with sad chocolate eyes.

"No, I...that's not...I don't feel obligated," Draco spluttered, trying to explain in the most inelegant way possible that he actually wanted to see her again.

"Oh, Merlin, I really must get going," she worried. "Thank you again for the books!" she called as she ran out of the shop, leaving him to stare after her. As he stood there dumbfounded, it took him a moment to hear someone clapping behind him.

"Well done, mate!" Theo cheered sarcastically when Draco turned to face him. "Was I watching you crash your broom headfirst into the ground or were you attempting to ask the girl you bullied for our entire childhood out for a date? It's hard to tell the difference. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy was capable of failing so miserably at something," he carried on.

"Sod off, you arsehole," Draco sneered, absently grabbing his bag and wand off the counter before storming out of the store. Of course, his best friend would be there to witness his embarrassing display of...well, whatever that was.

"How about I buy you lunch?" Theo offered as he caught up to Draco.

"I hate you."

"Excellent, but I bet I can make you love me again when I tell you what I did!" the blue-eyed Slytherin sang. Draco glared at him.

"What did you do?"

"Let's just head over to that new French place that serves those mini Croque Monsieurs that you love so much, and I'll tell you," he smirked. Theo smirking was a terrible sign. It meant he tried to help with something in the most unhelpful of ways.

They walked to the restaurant in silence. Draco was stewing over the awkward way he'd left things with Granger while Theo practically skipped beside him. Whatever this wizard had done was going to piss Draco off in the worst way. He flat out ignored Nott's annoying, smiling face until their food was served.

"Out with it, Nott. I'm growing impatient," Draco scowled at his friend.

"Oh, that. Before I tell you, will you please throw up a Silencing Charm?"

"Is your wand broken?" the blond wizard snapped.

"No," he answered simply as he continued to eat his meal. Rolling his eyes, Draco pulled out his wand and quickly cast the charm, stopping short when he went to stow it away and noticed the intricately designed wand in his hand.

"This isn't mine!" he searched around nervously as if his wand might suddenly appear.

"Surprise!" Theo cheered loudly, spreading his hands wide like an explosion of fingers and arms.

"You...you bought me a wand? Why?"

"Second in our class, and you think I bought you a wand? It is no wonder she always beat you in absolutely everything," he mumbled.

"If you didn't buy me this wand, then where did it come from?" Draco demanded. Nott stared back expectantly. "You stole it? From whom? What the bloody hell did you do? I cannot go back to Azkaban! Do you understand?" he fired questions at Theo like spells in a dual.

"I knew you'd find a way to turn this into a bad thing. Why are you so desperate to brood all the time?" he replied with the audacity to sound annoyed.

"You stole a fucking wand from someone and I'm the problem here?" he panted, starting to sweat now as the severity of this situation started to dawn on him. There would be no leniency for a former Death Eater.

"Not just someone's wand; it's Hermione Granger's wand. You're welcome!" he smiled like the dolt that he was.

"That's worse!" Draco shouted, thankful for the Silencing Charm. He pinched the bridge of his nose

'Worse? How is that worse?"

"Because she already thinks I'm a bloody git for flirting with her in the bookstore after treating her like shite all through school, fighting in a war against her, and not seeing her for seven whole years after that!" he yelled, pounding his fists on the table. "You cannot possibly be this bloody daft!"

"You truly are adorable, Draco," Theo grinned, completely ignoring the blond wizard's outburst. "She was just as taken by you as you were with her." He took another bite of his filet, chewing it carefully as Draco's eyes drilled holes into his head. Incapable of saying another word to his ridiculous friend, he swallowed back his Firewhisky and signaled the waitress for another. "You were lost in one another's eyes at least three times during your conversation with her. If it hadn't been so sickeningly cute, I would have been jealous that you fancy Granger when I was the one who saw her first." Theo continued, apparently unaware of how crazy he sounded.

"Cute? Really? What a prize for her! I'm sure she's dying to fall for me, the person responsible for some of her worst memories, whose father attempted to murder her, a guy so valiant and noble, he fought to exterminate her very existence. Lucky gal she is!"

"One, I didn't hear you deny that you fancy her," Theo held up his finger and began ticking off another. "Two, you wanted no part of that bloody war and stopped believing in all that Muggle-born shite once you realized what a twat Lucius really is. Three, we both know she is exactly the type of witch you wish you could have: smart, gorgeous, a tiny little thing you'd like to pound into the mattress, and the exact witch to drive your father insane when he hears about your relationship," he chuckled on his last point and shrugged his shoulders. "Prove me wrong."

"There is no relationship, mate! It sounds to me like you're absolutely nutters. Now, tell me, what am I supposed to do with this wand?"

"Interestingly enough, I still don't hear any sort of denial on your end," Nott responded haughtily, savoring the last bite of his steak. "Apparently, you are too blind to see that I provided you with a reason to see her again. Just owl her that there was a little mixup with the wands," he waved it off as if it weren't a big deal.

"And say what? Oh, sorry, Granger, for everything in our past and that my former best mate retrieved your wand from your handbag and switched it with mine," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "She'll probably think it was some sort of practical joke as if I am making fun of her, you arse!" he dropped his head into his hands. "I've hardly even thought about the woman in years, and within a few minutes in her presence, I've already made a complete fool of myself."

"Haven't thought about her? Really?" Theo laughed. "Do you often write five-page apology letters to witches you hardly think about?"

"One letter!"

"That you've edited. Frequently."

"Don't I owe her my best after everything?"

"Listen, Draco, you haven't really been interested in any of the women you've dated for the last few years, so the nerves you're feeling are a good sign. I, for one, am really enjoying watching you get so easily flustered," he laughed as he opened the dessert menu the waitress had brought them at some point. "Have a few drinks, relax, and owl her. What's the worst that can happen? She hates you? The witch has hated you since the first moment she met you, so that isn't anything new."

"I don't want her to hate who I've become," the blond wizard said softly.

"Exactly."

After their painful lunch, Draco returned to the Manor and had a little more than a few drinks when he finally decided to write to Hermione. It didn't help that Theo was drunk too and praised every line he'd written.

"It's perfect, Draco! Send it!" the dark-haired wizard cheered as he summoned one of the Malfoy family owls. "You sound both honest and bloody charming as fuck!" he slurred as he threw his arm around his friend.

Granger,

First, let me assure you that I feel no obligation to be nice to you or whatever it was you think I was trying to do. Believe it or not, when I asked you out to tea to discuss books, I was actually being sincere. It's a new thing I've been trying since I was finally able to rid myself of my father's terrible influence. Unlike yourself, I've always been forced to suppress my swotty side, but as I'm sure you are well aware, I did fall right behind you in our class standings. You probably remember that all of my friends growing up were complete imbeciles, so I never truly had anyone to discuss academics with. As I recall, in this way, we are similar. Somehow, I can't quite picture Weasley debating the merits of what qualifies as quality writing. I truly would appreciate your insight into our common interest. However, I do understand if you'd be uncomfortable spending time with me.

Speaking of my imbecile friends, when we were talking in the book store, Theo Nott thought it would be funny to switch our wands before you had to leave so suddenly. I promise you that I had no idea he did this until he revealed his juvenile joke during lunch later in the day. To be honest, I was so embarrassed by my own nervous prattling when speaking with you, that I didn't even notice I had the wrong wand until Theo pointed it out. Surprisingly, your wand works quite well for me. Allow me to further humiliate myself by admitting I find it quite fascinating because I have studied wandlore in my free time for no reason other than I was curious. Although I have no wish to prolong your inconvenience, I'm actually wondering if you are faring as well with mine.

My deepest apologies aren't nearly enough to fix this, but I offer them to you anyhow.

How would you like to make an exchange? Though I do understand your aversion toward me, I'd rather not send wands via owl post. I'm willing to meet anytime and anywhere that would be most convenient for you.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

How does one respond when their childhood bully pops back into their life as a completely different person? Hermione read Draco's letter several times in disbelief. The man that wrote this was open, honest, a little funny, and far from the spoiled little boy he used to be in school. Harry had told her as much over the years, but this was the first time she'd witnessed the change for herself. Admittedly, he had grown up quite a bit, his once-lanky frame filled in by well-developed muscles. Her heart had stuttered when he reached for her shoulder and let his large hand linger there as he spoke with her in the bookstore. The wizard had her completely flustered with his close proximity and grey eyes that seemed to have softened over the years. Throughout their childhood, she'd always found him to be quite ugly because he was so cruel. Just a few moments of his kindness and smiling had opened her eyes to how ridiculously handsome he truly was.

Overanalyzing their conversation coupled with this Ministry-sponsored trip to push forward her proposed werewolf legislation throughout Europe threw her completely off her game. She hadn't even noticed she was using a different wand until midway through addressing the German Parliament of Magic. It was nearly impossible to turn off her curiosity as to how the wand had ended up in her hand, but she had to force herself to deliver a flawless presentation in order to push for the fair treatment of werewolves all over Europe. Of course, she'd recognized the wand right away. Harry had used the blasted thing until he returned it to Malfoy on the day he was released from Azkaban.

At first, she thought it was some sort of joke and was surprised by how disappointed she felt. The blond wizard had seemed genuine in the bookstore, and Hermione would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't a little jealous that Harry had won over his friendship. Hearing how their schoolyard rival had been so completely humbled during the war and wanted to be free of his father's influence had truly touched her heart. To find out it may all be a ruse was truly upsetting even if she hadn't seen the Slytherin wizard in years. Receiving his owl had made her grin to herself all alone in her hotel room. It was true; Draco Malfoy had changed.

Hermione twisted Malfoy's wand in her hand and had to admit she was intrigued by how well it worked for her. Though studying wandlore during the war was more about finding the Elder Wand, she too had found the topic fascinating. From what she understood, it was rare for a wizard or witch's wand to be so compatible with another unless allegiance was won through a duel. It couldn't hurt to hear his thoughts on the matter.

She always knew Draco was intelligent. He had to be quite smart in order to come second in their class. Knowing he was always right on her heels had motivated her to work that much harder throughout the years. Once he was sent away to Azkaban, she had little competition when she returned to Hogwarts to complete her last year of school. In an odd sort of way, she missed the way his presence drove her to study harder, dig deeper, and be a better witch overall.

Malfoy,

If you're truly being sincere, then I would very much enjoy deliberating with you on a myriad of topics. You must know how it pains me to admit that you're right about my friends. As much as I love them, their eyes gloss over when I talk about anything other than food or Quidditch. Truth be told, the only book Ron and I have ever discussed was "The Tales of Beedle the Bard", and even that was a challenge for him. Please never repeat that to anyone. Consider that top-secret information a token of trust and a test of your proclaimed sincerity. As long as you continue treating me with dignity and respect, as you did at Flourish and Blotts, I have no aversion to being around you.

Unfortunately, I am traveling abroad for the next month for work, so I will not be able to return your wand until I am back home. Lucky for your friend, Theo, it is almost as in sync with my magic as my own wand, so to answer your question, I am faring quite well. It actually took me half the day to realize it wasn't my own. What do you make of that? My studies about wandlore were focused particularly on the Elder Wand, so I am not familiar with a reason why our wands would work perfectly for one another. Perhaps, for the first time in your life, you know something I do not. For that bit of knowledge, I'll anxiously wait for your next letter.

-Hermione

P.S. - Please inform Mr. Nott that I plan to hex him with both of our wands. His little prank could have ruined me professionally had your wand resisted me. What was he thinking?

"You see what happens when I try to help a friend?" Theo paced the length of his drawing room. "I'm going to be hexed by one of Britain's most powerful witches, and she's somehow charmed by you," he whined.

"How did you expect her to react when she found out you stole her wand right out of her bag, you dolt?" Draco challenged him. "You're bloody lucky she isn't pressing charges. They'd love to throw another Nott in Azkaban."

"Don't bore me with logic. You know I hate that," Theo waved Draco off and fell into the leather Chesterfield sofa beside him. "What are the chances she sets me up with some of her friends?"

"None. Zero percent. Rien. Null."

"Is there a reason you are being such a prat?"

"I'm trying to figure out a way to tell her theory behind our ability to use one another's wands as if they are our own," Draco said seriously. Everything he'd read on the subject suggested that aside from winning a duel, only true soulmates would be able to gain allegiance from another's wand. They'd only become reacquainted, so how was he to tell her that they were most likely meant for one another? "She's going to Avada me herself when she finds out."

"She won't, you'll see," Theo smiled.

"How would you know?"

"We've been friends a long time, mate, but don't ever question my ability to read people," he warned before standing to refill his drink. "You'll appreciate me once you realize I just changed your life. You're welcome."

Granger,

Thank you for finally putting in writing that you believe I AM RIGHT about your friends. After 14 years of knowing one another, you were finally able to admit it. Shall I save you the trouble of reporting the news to The Prophet? They'd run a two-page spread to commemorate the occasion. I can picture the headline now, "Golden Girl claims Draco Malfoy is the most intelligent, witty, and handsome wizard she's ever met!" That bit about Weasley would have been half the story, but alas I am bound by my honor to keep this monumental secret between just the two of us. It's a pity, really. Now, tell me which book are you starting with, so I may prepare myself for an actual civil conversation with Hermione Granger. Actually, could you please start with Evander's book? I'm already a few chapters in and dying to know what you think.

If I'm being honest, you really need help with your skills in the art of flattery. I've known things that you do not plenty of times. For example, the late Professor Snape found my abilities in Potions to be far superior to yours. In fact, I've recently earned the title of Potions Master, and Theo and I recently opened an apothecary together. Additionally, I have a rather unfortunate and tragic knowledge of the Dark Arts that I wish I could forget. It's not necessarily something I am proud of, but I'll take points wherever I can just to hear you tell me I'm right again. Furthermore, your assumption that I know more about wandlore and the possibilities why we are able to command one another's wands is correct. If you want that information, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until we meet again in person. I rather enjoy the idea of knowing something you don't, and I'd like to hang on to that power for a tad bit longer.

Where are you traveling for your work trip? Harry informed me that you'd been promoted to run the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I believe the words he used were, "The youngest department head in the entire bloody Ministry" to describe your accomplishment. I'd be interested in hearing about your work. You must have a passion for it to rise through the ranks so quickly. Perhaps, I could arrange an International Portkey if you'll allow me the honor of taking you to dinner one evening.

-Draco

Draco, (If Harry is allowed to call you by your name, then I can too!)

It's nice to know everything about you hasn't changed. You're still an arrogant prat when you want to be though I don't remember you being so funny when we were younger. I don't recall saying the words "intelligent", "witty", or "handsome", but it wouldn't be the first time I've been misquoted by The Prophet. I suppose it's up to you to prove that you're intelligent and witty. Lucky for you, I did start with Evander's book, but you'd better catch up because I'm already halfway through it.

First of all, the only reason Professor Snape recognized your talent in Potions over mine is that you were his favorite. That is hardly fair. I don't want to degrade your natural ability, so I'll say nothing further about it. Becoming a Master Potioneer is quite an accomplishment, so congratulations. Where is your apothecary? It's interesting that you bring up your new business venture because I am actually looking for vendors to supply Wolfsbane across Europe for an affordable price. Are you able to make Wolfsbane Potion in bulk? Part of the reason I am traveling over the next couple of weeks is to push the Werewolf legislation I recently passed in Britain across the continent. Government-supplied Wolfsbane plays a large role in helping werewolves that are unable to afford the expensive potion on their own. I know you may not agree with my passion for equality among all magical creatures, but I'm sure the profit you'd turn might convince you to help me with this endeavor.

As for my promotion, Harry (I still can't believe the two of you are on a first-name basis) speaks too highly of me. I'm sure my name helped advance my career far more than I'd like to admit. My work ethic is as strong as it has ever been, but I don't want to be handed things because of something I've done in my past. Everyone should be on an equal playing field no matter what their background might be.

You may not be surprised, but I have some questions about your knowledge of the Dark Arts. Of course, I don't want to put you on the spot and you certainly don't have to answer any of my questions, but I think I know a way for you to use your knowledge in a positive way.

My schedule is pretty full while I'm away, but I'll be in Paris in two weeks' time and will be available on the weekend. I should very much like to have dinner with you if you are amendable. I'm quite familiar with the Muggle part of the city since my parents often used to take me there on holiday, but if that makes you uncomfortable, we can venture into the magical side of Paris together.

-Hermione

Hermione,

First of all, I've always been funny; I was just too much of a stupid tosser to allow you to see this side of me. Believe it or not, I do have some redeemable qualities. Once you get to know me, I'm confident that we'll get along quite well. Speaking of which, confidence and arrogance are often confused though they are quite different. For instance, your letter said I should prove my intelligence and wit, but I'm confident that I must have already proven to you how handsome I've become since our youth. Without a constant fear for my parents and my life, I've found that eating isn't nearly as difficult as it used to be which allowed me to finally grow into my tall frame.

Since you shared a secret with me, I'll share one with you. Professor Snape was actually in awe of your raw talent. Whenever I messed up, his go-to line was, "Perhaps if you were a little more studious like Ms. Granger…" and finish with some sort of scathing insult toward me. It probably isn't fair that I was his favorite student, but his personal attention drove me to work harder. He made me earn his praise, which truly made me crave his constant approval.

Before I address your questions about my business, I want you to know that I am not the same person you knew me to be. My beliefs and views about blood purity and magical creatures have changed so completely. The experiences I've had during the war, in Azkaban, and during my apprenticeship have shaped me into a new man. I've even begun to turn my mother's feelings on these topics as well. Two years ago, she tried to free all of her house-elves, but they refused, so she has been paying them in flowers and trinkets.

As you are well aware, neither Nott nor I am worried about turning a profit as much as we both want to give back to the magical community. We both have our work cut out for us to change what the Malfoy and Nott names mean in our world. What you are proposing with the Wolfsbane Potion is exactly the type of philanthropy project we have been looking for to establish credibility and trust within Britain. We would be honored to take part in such an endeavor. Theo handles the business end of things while I spend my days brewing. He would be happy to discuss the details with you and your associates at your earliest convenience.

Paint me surprised that Hermione Granger has questions about my knowledge of the Dark Arts. I believe you are the only person I've ever met that would find a positive side to learning such an abhorrent subject. Both your faith and kindness are two gifts of which I don't deserve.

I'll make you a deal. If you allow me to take you to a restaurant I know in the wizarding district of Paris, then you can show me a place in the Muggle part of the city that you think I must see. Tell me where to meet you, and I'll be there.

-Draco

Swooping low into the Manor gardens, a large barn owl dropped a letter in Draco's eager hands. For the last few weeks, he and Hermione had been communicating by owl post, sometimes several times a day. What had started out as exchanges with a few lines each had turned into long missives about what they wanted for the future, stories about their childhoods, silly quips, mild debates, and questions. The curious witch had an endless supply of questions. He'd revealed more to her in those letters than any one person in his life was privileged to know about his true self.

"Another letter from an unknown source brings a smile to my dragon's face," Narcissa commented offhandedly as she approached. So lost was he in Hermione's words that Draco hadn't even noticed his mother enter the garden. "May I ask what extraordinary witch has finally captured my finicky son's attention?" she smiled at him. It'd been a long time, probably before the war, since she seemed genuinely happy about anything. Her affection for Lucius had started to dissipate with the return of the Dark Lord. Once the elder Malfoy had put the maniacal wizard above his own family, Narcissa could no longer bring herself to love the man her husband had become.

"It's...complicated, Mother," he replied, quickly hiding his letter from her and shoving it into his robes. Narcissa took his hands and looked thoughtfully at her son.

"Perhaps I haven't been clear with you over the years, but my only wish is for you to be happy," she told him. Draco took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what his mother's version of happiness was, but he knew what it wasn't for him.

"If that is true, then I will tell you that I am not looking for a well-trained wife," he replied with frustration.

"The women I've set you up with in the past were daughters of my acquaintances...I'm afraid I don't know many people outside of our old circles."

"I don't want anything to do with our old circles," Draco replied, trying his best to mask his irritation. He knew Narcissa was doing her best to fulfill her duties as a mother, but he had to make her see that he wouldn't be finding his wife from a pool of purebloods. He drew a deep breath, flaring his nostrils to fill his lungs. "The witch I marry should challenge me, have her own thoughts, make me laugh,...love me. I want...I want to marry for love!" he declared as he squeezed his eyes shut and awaited her lecture about duty and obligation. Instead, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle, crushing herself against him. They stood like this for a long moment before she pulled away.

"Nothing would make me more proud of you than if you married for love instead of bloodlines," she smiled brightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Now, tell your mother all about the lucky witch who holds my little dragon's heart."

Draco,

I checked my schedule, and I'll be staying in L'hôtel Enchanté de Paris. See you in the lobby at six o'clock sharp on Saturday evening. Bring a Muggle outfit to change into after dinner.

-Hermione

"Hermione! What a surprise!" Ginny startled when the curly-haired witch suddenly appeared in her Floo looking frantic. "It's nearly midnight. Is everything alright?"

"I think I might have kind of agreed to go on a...date...with Draco Malfoy!" she admitted in a rush, slamming both her hands over her mouth as if she'd just confessed a crime.

"Yes, he wrote to Harry the day after he ran into you in Flourish and Blotts," Ginny explained. "He wanted to get to know you better and wished for Harry's approval."

"What? Why does he need Harry's permission?" she asked incredulously.

"They've become sort of friends over the years, and he seeks Harry's good opinion," Ginny answered easily. "I think it's rather cute. They went for drinks last night actually, and he told Harry that your letters have more depth than any of the puddles of conversations he's had with the women he's dated over the years," the ginger witch said with a grin.

"You don't find it strange that over the course of a few weeks, I've become reacquainted with the boy I spent my school years hating, and now we are going on a possible date?"

"Of course, it's strange!" she exclaimed.

"You think I should cancel?" Hermione asked with a pang of disappointment.

"No! I do think it's strange, but he isn't the same boy he was in school. Besides, you're always going on about how people shouldn't be judged by their past; here is your chance to show you truly believe that. Not to mention that this is the most excited I've seen you for a date...possibly ever!"

"Thanks, Gin. You always know just what to say to make me feel better," she smiled just as baby James began to cry.

"Duty calls," Ginny grimaced. "I can't wait to hear every last detail afterward!" she warned before disappearing to take care of the baby.

Taking a deep breath, Draco poised himself to knock on the door to room 507, Hermione's hotel room. They were supposed to meet in the lobby, but he'd been convinced to go directly to her room by none other than Ginny Potter. The fiery witch had appeared outside the Manor gates on Friday afternoon with a mini-Potter strapped to her front by some Muggle contraption and demanding to see the contents of the blond wizard's closet. Narcissa had led her straight to the Malfoy heir's bedroom door with a smile. In a state of confusion, Draco had let Ginny in, and the witch proceeded to foist the baby into his unsure arms while she searched for the perfect outfit for him to wear on Saturday evening. Not to say he wasn't grateful. The Weaselette had been beyond helpful. Without her, he wouldn't have known Hermione's favorite color was blue or her favorite flowers were peonies. The Potters' approval made Draco feel as if he wasn't completely out of line in his pursuit of the Gryffindor Princess.

He stole a deep breath and lightly rapped on the door. A squeal from within made him chuckle before she peeked into the hall, a beautiful smile stealing her face at the sight of him.

"Am I late? I'm so sorry," Hermione apologized with a slight panic through the small gap in the door. Her nervousness worried him. Perhaps he shouldn't have come to her room after all. Had he misread her letters as something more?

"You're not late. I am early. Forgive me for presuming it would be appropriate to escort you from your room," Draco said with more confidence than he felt. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable...I can go…" he trailed off as he slowly backed away, the bouquet of light pink peonies dropping to his side.

"No!" she called before he could take another step, craning her head a little further into the hall. "My dress...the zipper," Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. "It's stuck," she admitted, hues of pink painting her cheeks. The words were meaningless in his head as he stared back at her dumbly. It took a moment to piece together what should have been obvious.

"Might I assist you?"

"Yes, please," she answered with an embarrassed smile, opening the door slightly for him to enter.

Draco swallowed hard when he saw her clutching the scalloped lace neckline of her navy blue cocktail dress. He'd never seen something so conservative look this sexy until she turned around, showing her exposed back. Fuck! Too much blood was rushing south and away from his brain. He'd nearly forgotten what it was he was supposed to be doing. Images of him pushing that dress off her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground consumed him. Draco's heart sped up and his mouth dried instantly at the thought of what she might look like underneath. When he stood motionless for too long, probably gawking at her, she turned and offered him a demure smile. Zipper! He reminded himself he was there to help, not perv on her.

"You are stunning," he purred as his fingers skimmed across her neck to move her hair over her shoulder. Hermione's breath hitched, though if it was because of his words or his touch, he couldn't say. Her soft scent of lavender and honey embraced him like gentle waves in warm water. What would she taste like? The strong urge to press his lips against her exposed skin was nearly impossible to ignore, but he managed to pull up her zipper without incident. He stepped back and turned away from the beautiful witch to give himself some space before he did something stupid.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, smoothing down her dress.

"These are for you," Draco turned to hand her the flowers he brought, and a bright smile lit her face in return.

"You are too kind. Peonies are my absolute favorite," she gushed as she brought the bouquet up to inhale the sweet scent. Without a thought, she lifted Draco's wand to transfigure a cup into a teal vase. The sight of her using his wand so freely stirred something strong inside of him. He didn't make mention of it when Hermione didn't seem to notice that she'd discreetly stowed his wand away. Instead, he offered the petite witch his arm, and they headed off to dinner.

The pull Hermione felt toward Draco was something akin to magnetic. It appeared that he felt it too. As much as he seemed to be finding excuses to touch her, she equally craved his warmth. His fingers brushing her skin, his large hand placed gently on the small of her back to lead her into a room, the way his side warmed hers when he walked beside her. Their attraction was almost intoxicating.

"Of course, you speak French too, you brilliant witch!" Draco praised Hermione when she'd ordered her meal in the language she'd been taught alongside English as a child. He'd pulled her right out of her thoughts with his excitement.

"Und auch deutsch," she added with a smile. "And also German."

"Ich auch, nicht so gut," he answered, grinning like he'd won a prize. "Me too, though not so good."

"Who would have known that you and I could have so much in common?" she laughed. Draco ducked his head slightly, unable to meet her eyes for a moment. When he turned back toward her, his expression was intense. It was as if he was trying to infuse every emotion he felt into this one look.

"It is truly unfortunate that we are different in the most fundamental way."

"Blood?" she cut him off with a snort.

"Of course, not! I haven't believed any of that nonsense in years," Draco defended himself, a forceful stampede of gray storming through his irises. He stole a breath. "I thought I'd made that clear in my letters."

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have assumed. You've been nothing but kind to me since we became reacquainted," she apologized. Placing his hands flat on the table between them, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I was going to say our character is where we differ," he declared, opening his eyes to face her once again. "It's always been natural for you to make the right choice and do the right thing, but it is something I have had to learn. Even now, I know I'll never deserve you, but I'm too selfish to pass up an opportunity to try anyway," he confessed, regret woven in the admission of his weakness. For a man that spent most of his life suppressing all forms of emotion, he was an open book tonight. The force of his gaze mesmerized her.

"That is what makes you exceptional, Draco. Given the choice, you want to be a better man, and so you are. To me, that is admirable," she peeked at him through her eyelashes, and he winked. A simple movement that stole her breath away.

"Maybe I have no right to want anything from you, Hermione, but you've gotten under my skin these last few weeks. Every owl I see has me grinning like a sodding idiot because I hope that it is one more letter from you."

"I too find myself looking up from my books to search the skies for your next owl," Hermione admitted with a grin as she snaked her arm across the small table between them to grasp his hand. Without a thought, he brought her delicate fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. Before he could make some flirtatious remark, their food was served, and they both tucked into their meal.

There was something calming about having no particular destination in Muggle Paris at night. Draco would have noticed more of the old city had he not been entirely captivated by Hermione's company. And though he was tempted by the sight of her in a fitted sundress that flared just below her hips and accentuated every one of her curves he wished to explore, it was her expressive demeanor and easy conversation that truly enchanted him.

They strolled side by side at a leisurely pace along the Seine River. When their hands accidentally brushed for the third time, Draco finally gathered his courage and intertwined their fingers. His heart was racing, but Hermione didn't pull away. Instead, they beamed at one another like the two luckiest people in the world, walking in silence for a few paces and basking in the joy of being together.

Suddenly, the sound of music pumping into the night plucked them from their reverie. They looked up to find happy couples of all ages and skill levels dancing the tango along the river, right in the open and carefree. Hermione's eyes brightened at the scene before them, and he knew he must dance with her.

"Shall we?" Draco asked as he gently pulled her toward the crowd.

"Oh, I couldn't. I don't really know how-," she started to protest but stopped mid-sentence when he started to lean down toward her.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered in Hermione's ear, enjoying her small gasp at his proximity. The curly-haired witch nodded once with wide eyes and trailed behind Draco as he pulled her into the proper position. He explained the basics of the tango just as the next song began. She fumbled a little at first but quickly picked it up as he showed her how to anticipate his movements. Before long, she seemed to really start to enjoy dancing with him, and her easy disposition returned.

"How do you know how to dance like this?" Hermione wondered. For a witch he held in such high esteem, it felt quite nice to impress her.

"I had to take ballroom dancing lessons from the age of seven until the end of our fifth year," he answered. "It was expected of all the children in...my parent's circle."

"Of course, it was," she rolled her eyes playfully.

"As much as I hated it as a boy, all those boring lessons seem well worth it right now," Draco smirked, pressing his hand firmly to her back and holding them closer than they already were. Hermione's breath quickened as she stared up to his eyes and bit her bottom lip nervously, all else ceasing to exist around them. It was exhilarating how being with her made the rest of the world disappear. When her gaze briefly fell to his lips, Draco's heart constricted. The realization hit him that he could lean down and kiss her right now. Nothing in his life seemed more crucial at that moment than touching his lips to hers. All he had to do was dip his head, the space between them was both infinite and minuscule as he grappled with the thought.

Firm in his resolve, Draco slowly began his descent to close the last few centimeters between friendship and something more. Hermione's eyes widened briefly before she offered him a shy, encouraging smile. Unexpectedly, applause rose up around them as the song ended and extinguished the near intimate moment. They both laughed nervously while the crowd around them continued their applause for the band.

"Oh, look there, Draco!" Hermione pointed behind him excitedly. Further down the river, another group of people was dancing the salsa. It wasn't a style he was particularly familiar with, but he'd give it a try if it's what this beautiful witch wanted.

"I must warn you that my lessons didn't include the salsa," he admitted with a grin, tugging her along to the next venue.

"Perfect! We'll be on the same playing field this time," she laughed as they walked briskly in the cool night air.

"With brains like yours, we'll never be on a level playing field," he tapped her playfully on the forehead. "I have to take any advantage I can get," Draco said as he placed her hand on his shoulder and began leading her to the beat of the music. Without years of practice, he wouldn't have been able to train his eyes on hers instead of watching the sway of her hips as he wished to do.

"No fair! You're good at this too," Hermione simpered.

"I'm glad you think so," Draco replied with a smirk, spinning her out and back, mesmerized by her long curls whipping out around in all directions.

While they fell under the city of love's spell, the late evening turned into the early morning. The unlikely pair danced, had a couple of drinks, though they mostly kept refilling their waters with Aguamenti Charms when no one was looking and walked a little further down the Seine before finally collapsing onto a bench overlooking a garden.

"Are you up to visit one Muggle landmark while we're here, or are you ready to turn in?" the curly-haired witch wondered. If it meant spending more time with her, he'd go wherever she wanted.

"I'm up for anything, Granger," Draco winked at her, enjoying how her face flushed pink. With that, she stood and grabbed both of his hands to pull him up for a side-along Apparition. The next thing he knew, they were standing on top of some sort of empty structure. The city sprawled out all around them, roads leading in every direction.

Letting go of his hand, Hermione closed her eyes and spun around with her arms spread wide, her dress and curls flying in all directions around her. Merlin, she was breathtaking. Everything about her sung to his soul. At that moment, he knew Hermione Granger was the only witch capable of capturing his guarded heart. No other woman could or would compare to her in Draco's mind.

"What do you think?" she asked with a grin.

"I think I love the view," the blond wizard answered with his eyes fixedly trained upon hers.

"Maybe you should come get a closer look," she replied with an intensity that matched his own. Draco swallowed hard. Hermione's invitation was clear.

The rest of his body responded before his brain could catch up, and before Draco realized what was happening, one hand was already gripping her hip while the other slid into her hair to the base of her neck. It was nearly impossible to suppress his desire to envelop her with his arms once their lips touched. Hermione responded in kind. They were breathing each other in, desperately trying to be closer like two magnets forced apart for far too long. A moan escaped her throat when his tongue teased the seam of her lips; the sound shot straight to his cock. Draco deepened the kiss as his fingers explored her lower back and hips. It wasn't enough. They both needed more. In one fluid movement, he cupped her arse and lifted her. He nearly lost all control when her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and she slowly ground into him.

"Fuck, Granger!" Draco growled as he directed his attention to placing a trail of languid kisses down her neck and shoulder.

"You feel too good," Hermione breathed, tilting her head to the side to allow the blond wizard better access. He smiled against her skin. This was far better than any of his fantasies about her. "Merlin, Draco, if we don't stop soon, I won't be able to," she whispered as she rolled her hips into him again. He stilled at her words and pulled back to look her in the eye.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want. I'll never take more than you're willing to give," he vowed, placing her gently on the ground but still holding her close to him.

"I trust you," Hermione assured him, still panting heavily as she stood on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. For her to have faith in him was a true gift. "What if...what if I don't want to stop?" she chewed her bottom lip nervously. What had he done right in life to be the lucky wizard who captured this witch's attention?

"Well, I can't make you stop if you don't want to," he shrugged, grinning as she gave him a playful smack in the chest. "I'm too weak to deny you anything you desire."

"You...I want you," she said nervously. Well, fuck! That was all he needed to hear. In one fell swoop, he'd scooped her up and Apparated them back to his room at the hotel. "Where are we?" she pulled back, looking around at the suite.

"It's where I stay when I'm in Paris," Draco answered cautiously, unsure if he should have taken her here without her permission.

"But it has a similar decor to my room in L'hôtel Enchanté de Paris…" she countered while her eyes still roamed his belongings placed neatly around the space.

"My family...well, we -er,...own this hotel, and...and this is my personal suite," the blond wizard hesitated. It was the first time in his life that he'd ever felt embarrassed by his family's wealth.

"Do you bring a lot of witches here then?" Hermione cleared her throat in an attempt to cover the disappointment in her tone.

"No! Of course not!" Draco defended himself. "You're the first, actually," he assured her. "I haven't been to this place since before the war, and I wasn't exactly wooing witches abroad back then either."

"I'm sorry-... I shouldn't have…," the curly-haired witch started just as Draco captured her lips again and reveled in how she immediately melted into him.

"There is no need to doubt how much you mean to me, Hermione," he said, pulling away from her slightly, so he could look her in the eye. "You're the only witch who's ever stirred something inside of me like this," he placed her hand over his racing heart. "Though we've just begun to truly get to know one another, I can feel you here," he closed his eyes, nervously anticipating her reaction. Sweet Salazar, it was only their first date, and he was practically confessing that he was already falling for her. "There's something else I should tell you about...about our wands," he said, knowing he must tell her what he knew.

"I already know," she whispered, gently placing his fingers between her breasts, where he was met with the frantic pounding in her chest. "After you wouldn't tell me in your letters, I researched wandlore. I know what it all means...I can feel you too, Draco," she admitted. Relief washed over him, an unadulterated moment of bliss that she knew they were meant to be and felt something for him too. The blond wizard planted kisses all over her neck and shoulders, eventually slowing his pace when he reached her delectable mouth. He wanted to savor each slow kiss, however, Hermione had other plans. Without much effort, she pushed him into an accent chair close by and climbed on top of him, her dress riding high on her thighs with his hands chasing the hem's trail.

"Are you sure you want this?" he breathed, his voice gravelly with lust. Her answer came in the form of warm, soft fingers roaming beneath his shirt until he peeled it off. Before Draco had time to be embarrassed by his scarred body, Hermione was dragging her tongue along the raised lines where dark magic left its mark, hideous proof of his sordid past. The loose straps of her dress slipped down her shoulders, offering him access to the creamy peaks below. She tossed her head back and whimpered as he tested the weight of her luscious breasts, and the blond wizard drowned in the gasps of her pleasure while he licked and sucked her tightened buds.

"Make me yours, Draco," Hermione begged as she tugged the dress over her head and threw it across the room. If her plea wasn't enough to want to bury himself deep inside of her, it was the sight of her rolling hips against him in Slytherin green, lace knickers. Fuck! She was perfect! The blond wizard couldn't help reaching out to rub her through those naughty knickers with his thumb, as she moaned incoherently.

"Come for me, love," he growled into her mouth, kissing her hard and nipping at her bottom lip.

"Draco!" she screamed while her entire body seized with pleasure. "I need you," she gasped, her head falling to his shoulder.

They quickly moved to the large bed as they divested themselves of the rest of their clothing. The Slytherin was poised in front of her entrance, on the precipice of the life-altering reality that he was about to make love to Hermione Granger. Without a second thought, he entered her, allowing her to stretch around him. They were moving together as one, gazing into one another's eyes. A perfect fit. Draco held out as long as he could, but his witch felt too good, and there was no stopping what had been building up since he first saw her in the bookstore. He slammed into her a few more times and exploded when he felt her tighten around him, shattering before his eyes.

"Remind me to buy that place where we first kissed, so I can always remember our incredible evening," Draco smiled, holding his witch in his arms as she began to giggle.

"You can't buy the Arc de Triomphe, you prat," her laughter was sweet music in the tranquility of the early morning, even if it was at his expense.

"But what shall I have to reminisce over the best night of my life?" he countered with a chuckle.

"You'll have me, of course," Hermione offered, craning her neck for another heated kiss.

A/N- Thank you for reading! Please leave feedback and let me know what you think!

If my French and German translations are wrong, I apologize. I don't speak either language, but I thought that part suited the story. (Blame Google translate for lying to me. 😂)

Also, I've never been to Paris, so most of the descriptions were based on travel blogs, videos, and pictures I have seen online. I apologize if I misrepresented any of the places I described.