Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's. Some chapter titles belong to their singers, others to me.
A/N: The first chapter is boring. There, I've said it. Chapters 1 & 2 establish my alternate universe. Premise is that Draco joins The Order after HBP and helps the Trio in year 7 to defeat Voldy in an entirely different way (the last book never happened). Please bear with the stage-setting and the stiff Draco. The fic gets a healthy dose of magic/ action/ romance/ mystery/ suspense/ humor as we delve into their flashbacks and their psyches. You just have to wait a tiny bit.
For all those who read this fic years ago- Thank You. Your reviews have meant much more than you could EVER guess. You helped me get better as a writer, as a human, and helped through a phase. I'm sorry life got in the way and the original end I'd written for it didn't fit anymore... the characters grew out of their tiny molds.
I'm editing the story as I re-read it, before now finishing it. Would love a Beta's help. If you're interested, and have grammar skills to help catch my many mistakes, please send me a message.
Many thanks to my previous beta- Dixie. She was one of the first readers of this story and helped expand it to a much larger, richer universe.
We Meet Again (Prologue)
Harry Potter was The Boy Who Lived. Ron was the boy who stood beside him, almost always. Hermione was the mind and the soul that kept them alive and together. Draco was the tosser who first, they learnt to ignore, then live with. After Dumbledore's murder, he turned to the Order, traveled with the Trio across the World and helped Harry kill Voldermort. Bickered through it all, but was a constant.
After the war, Harry felt compelled to continue working with Aurors; to round up Death Eaters and protect still-vulnerable populace. Ron helped till the dust settled. Hermione surprised no one (except Ron), when she returned to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year with the following class of graduating students. Several students from her year had chosen to thus complete their education, Draco and Luna included. During the quietest year at Hogwarts yet, Hermione completed 5 GCSEs for her Muggle school as well.
That was 8 years ago. Since then, Harry had become an Auror and Ron played professional Quidditch for Puddlemere United. Hermione was moving up the ranks in the Ministry of Magic. She had started as Assistant to the new Head of the Department of Muggle Relations- a cause she was decided perfect for, since Death Eaters had run havoc among Muggles in previous years. Within three years, she became the Head of the Department. Even though pre-war, the department of Muggle relations had been an insignificant one, it didn't stay so under Hermione's charge. She incorporated it with the Department of Relations with Magical Creatures and helped raise awareness and funds to enact new laws to better safeguard the basic rights of magical and non-magical beings. In light of the bigotry that had caused untold tragedy, she kept trying to convince policy makers that prevention was better than cure; that an equitable society would be the foundation of a peaceful one. Her status as War-Hero and Harry Potter's Closest Advisor, helped her spear through political obstacles. She wasn't too shy to employ the influence she apparently wielded.
Draco was still rich, sharp and gorgeous; he didn't really have to do anything. Tiresomely for him, he also bored easily. So he decided to do what he liked best- infuriating Ron by becoming seeker for his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. It helped that Draco liked Quidditch and was a spiffing good Seeker, as he often proclaimed. He suppressed the information that he had never fairly won against Potter, since that was neither here nor there. The glitz and glamour suited his ego. The entertaining lifestyle suited his restless disposition. Constant traveling suited his lack of commitment in relationships. The short stints in the big cities of the World were just long enough for him to meet amazing witches, but leave by the time they started dreaming of marrying into Malfoy Galleons.
Despite the constant bickering between Malfoy and Weasley, they were inseparable when they did happen to be in the same city. Something to do with making new friends and neither being good at it. Though that's not what they told themselves, or Merlin forbid, the other. When they were back in London from their various tours, the same rules applied with Hermione, Harry and Ginny. The five didn't hang out together as much as the four did; still, the wizarding world would be astonished to discover just how much time was spent together over Butterbeer, Fire Whiskey or hot chocolate. It may have had something to do with the bitter lessons Draco had learnt in his 6th and 7th years- of being lost till the Order gave him refuge and purpose. Draco had repaid that chance by proving himself very useful. The sly Slytherin had helped out-think Death Eaters when in-your-face Gryffindors, fair Hufflepuffs and intellectual Ravenclaws hadn't been able to, without Dumbledore's direction. And then, of course, he'd saved Ginny.
All that was now, thankfully, in the past. Today was more serene. Err, nevermind that. Harry, as an Auror, Ginny's husband and dad of 1 ½ children, found his active and full life exhilarating, but sometimes exhausting. Ron was involved ever-so-often in drunken brawls. Malfoy was ever so often the root cause of said brawls, covertly of course, as was the Malfoy way. Hermione constantly had to fight bureaucracy to bring about changes that seemed humane and logical to her, but unjustified to some political figures. She also had an Op-Ed column in the Daily Prophet that kept her busy along with the War-Orphan Charity that she oversaw for Malfoy. She had guilt-tripped him into that.
It was their charity's fund-raiser Annual Ball that had the war-heroes reuniting in London on this very cold December night. Harry was coming with the glowingly pregnant Ginny. Ron was to be accompanied by Fleur Delacour's cousin- Elma. They had been seeing each other for 2 years and Hermione expected to hear about their engagement any day. That left Hermione and Draco with the standing arrangement of going together. It was seemly, Hermione figured, to display solidarity betwixt the historically rival houses that they came from. In her mind, they were setting a good example for Hogwarts students.
Sharp at 4:00 pm Hermione heard a knock on her duplex flat's door and checked the mirror a last time, to ensure her new midnight-blue dress was leaving at least some things to imagination. Hermione had asked Ginny along to the last shopping trip, an error in judgment. As little as there was on the front of the gown, there was less on the back, and that meant no bra. The material was a dreamy flow-through-your-fingers satin, which draped every curve like a kiss – which meant no knickers! But Hermione reminded herself of the mantra that Ginny had chanted, "If not now, when?"
Hermione picked up her charmed-to-heat wrap, steeled her back and opened the door. Platinum blond hair framed stormy-sky eyes, skin of cream and the smirk of the devil. In a charcoal gray shirt and midnight black dress robe, painting a regal portrait into her door-frame, stood Draco Malfoy. A portrait her neighbor seemed to be eyeing with much appreciation. Hermione waived at the nuisance of her neighbor and gestured for Draco to come in.
"Granger," his casual greeting gained a lazy smile as he noticed her dress. "You are not dressed in rags. How will society recognize you?" He walked into the foyer and shut the door behind him.
"Hey, Malfoy. So glad you had time to change out of prison-robes. What were the Daily Prophet headlines? Oh, yes... Murder, Mayhem, Malfoy. A thrilling read, but a bit sparse on details, if you ask me. But you usually don't," Hermione scowled.
"How endearing," Draco ironed out her frown with his thumb in a gentle, familiar gesture, "you seem to care. But please, no more surprises tonight, it does not become you. Besides, the article was a gross misrepresentation of facts. I usually do not explain myself to you, but it was just a lamentable example of wrong time, wrong place."
"Hmmm... things are never that simple with you. Elaborate on the exact sequence of events, the condition of Italy's jails, the bail amount, everything."
"I could have been tempted," Draco flirted casually, amused eyes checking out her dress again, "However, I would like to arrive before our guests. You value punctuality and I demand perfection, if my name is on it. You may have coerced me into the charity and blackmailed into the event, but now that the deed's done, it had better continue magnificently."
"Are you saying I am magnificent?"
"A magnificent pain in my arse, yes."
"That's just your Quidditch broom."
"Hush now, Apparate us already. I'll slide along since I don't know which part of the Cultural Center we are headed to first."
They Apparated smoothly into the kitchens of the Cultural Center. Hermione spoke with the Head Chef, reminding him about guests with food allergies and special diets. The decorator had done her job well – nothing too elaborate or wasteful, but a simple, elegant black-and-white theme with tasteful candle centerpieces. The charity manager, Mrs Largesse sought them out, to ensure them that everything was as planned. Hermione went through the itinerary and speech introductions with the evening's compare. As Hermione double and triple-checked everything, Malfoy observed quietly; not unobtrusive because he wouldn't know how. Hermione noticed and ignored the hush that fell in any vicinity that Malfoy approached.
She then went in search of the band they had booked tonight -Spellbound. It was an up-and-coming soul group that Hermione had been assured was classy and artistic, though she had never heard them play herself. As she identified the young brunette with long wavy hair, she hoped the popularity was not just based on superficial appearances. Shaylyn introduced herself, eyes bright and smile wide, excited to have landed their biggest gig yet. Hermione noticed Shaylyn throw various awestruck glances at Draco. She stored that nugget in the part of her brain where she stored other such Draco-related morsels.
Having gone over everything she thought was required, Hermione looked at Draco, raised eyebrows, seeking approval. He nodded. He gave one of those fleeting rare smiles that turned up the wattage in a warm-blooded woman's nervous system. If she were lucky enough to get a genuine smile rather than the trademark smirk.
He walked over, took her hand and guided them to a secluded area. "Breathe for a bit, before the circus begins."
Hermione momentarily closed her eyes as Draco placed his hand in the small of her back. His cool fingertips played iridescent notes on the nerves stretched taut in her spine. But she had herself superbly composed. Not a hint to anyone that this egotistical, neurotic, heart-breakingly beautiful arse had been the object of her affection and shameful lust for the insane time span of 7 years.
AN: So what do you think so far?