A/N You know, I love you people. I really do. It is so nice to know that so many of you are reading and enjoying my little story. This story began as just a small little idea of mine that no one else was really supposed to ever read, and I never imagined this many people actually reading it and enjoying it! So a big thank you to you all, and now, on with the story!

Hermione had just settled into a relaxing bubble bath in the large, old-fashioned bathtub she'd discovered in the guest bathroom. The bubbles were in high mounds all around her, the water was warm, and the candles flickering all around her created the perfect atmosphere to unwind from all the stress she'd been under for the past two weeks.

It seemed like years ago that she had walked into her office and found Malfoy sitting behind her desk that morning. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it; she just wanted to clear her mind and relax.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her bedroom door. Sighing heavily, she didn't even open her eyes as she said, "Come in," assuming it was a house-elf.

"Hermione?" a deep, male voice rang from the bedroom. Oh no! she thought, her eyes shooting open in alarm. It's Malfoy!

Before Hermione could say or do anything, he was standing at the open bathroom door. Their eyes met, and a moment passed where Draco's mouth hung open in shock, and Hermione fervently hoped the bubbles were covering her enough.

Then Draco was turning away quickly, mumbling apologies and shutting the bathroom door. Hermione sloshed out of the bathtub and hastily wrapped a big white towel around herself, silently cursing the fact that all her clothes and even the borrowed nightdress were in the other room.

She opened the door and peeked out. Draco was standing with his back to her, facing the window, his arms crossed over his chest. At least he didn't run screaming into the night, she thought wryly.

At the sound of the door opening, Draco turned his head. He blanched a little when he saw her wrapped in the towel and swallowed hard. Hermione cleared her throat and pulled the door back a little as if to cover herself a little more.

"My, er, my clothes are in there," she said with an embarrassed smile. Draco started, then nodded his comprehension.

"Shall I hand them to you?" he asked, his voice slightly uneven. Before Hermione could reply, he was walking to the bed and scooping up the white nightdress in one hand. She blushed as he held it out to her through the crack in the door.

"Er," Hermione said, blushing an even deeper scarlet as she took the nightgown from him. "My…er….ahem…my kn-knickers," she finally choked, closing her eyes and gesturing to the small pile of white cotton that had fallen from the bed when Draco grabbed the nightdress.

Draco's face turned a dark crimson to rival Hermione's. He coughed and sputtered something Hermione couldn't understand and in a flash her underwear was in her hand and the door was safely between them again.

She couldn't imagine anything more mortifying that what had just happened. She tugged the nightdress over her head, barely even noticing the fine linen and exquisite lace as she did so. It was beautiful, she thought as she surveyed herself in the oval mirror that stood in the corner of the bathroom.

It was sleeveless, and the neckline consisted of two wide pieces of intricate lacework that met in a high V just below her collarbone. From there, it flowed down to her ankles in a waterfall of almost shimmery white linen. Her hair was falling out of the high bun she had tied it in while taking her bath, loose curls falling on her neck and around her face. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection and turned to the door.

Well, I can't put this off any longer, she thought, and pushed the door open slowly.

Draco had been sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up as she opened the door.

Hermione bit her lip and studied her feet for a moment. Draco whispered something inaudibly, but when she looked up, he had risen to his feet and was walking briskly to the bedroom door, shaking his head.

"Draco, wait—" she said, and he stopped and turned to look at her, a strange expression on his face. His hair was rumpled and his cheeks were flushed, and Hermione thought foolishly that he looked like a small boy.

"What did you need? Did you need to talk to me or something?" she asked quietly. There seemed to be a spell on the room that only let them speak barely above a whisper.

Draco shook his head. "No, it was nothing, I just thought it might look good if the house-elves saw me come to say good night."

The spell was broken and he was gone.


Damn. Shite. Fuck.

Draco cursed himself all the way back to his bedroom. That was not supposed to happen. He had only intended to congratulate Granger for doing so well with his parents, especially his mother, that night; NOT to walk in on her completely naked and wet and covered in bubbles.

Bloody Hell.

How was he supposed to know she would be taking a bath? After all, she had told him to come in when he had knocked at the door. Granted, she probably had no idea it was him; probably thought he was a house elf or something, but she still should have locked the door or…or something!

Then she had come to the door in only a towel, her skin still glistening wet from the bath. Draco had never seen anything quite so sexy…and wrong. He couldn't be attracted to Granger. That was certainly not part of his plan.

He had only been trying to help this horribly embarrassing situation pass more quickly by handing her the clothes she'd left in the other room, but he'd ended up worse off. He had never wanted to think about Granger's knickers before, let along touch them or hand them to her.

He had sat down on the bed in the guest room to try and stop his mind from conjuring images of a naked Granger under an entirely different set of circumstances, writhing beneath him and moaning his name…when the door opened a moment later. She had appeared in the white nightgown, her hair falling down in just the right ways, her eyes downcast and her cheeks still bearing some of the deep blush from earlier. He had forgotten himself.

"Wow," he had breathed. Then he remember where he was and fled after making some lame excuse about why he had come to see her so late.

This was not supposed to happen.

He would just have to get over it, that was all there was to it. So what if he was attracted to her? What was so wrong with that? He was attracted to beautiful women. He had just never noticed that Granger was a beautiful woman before.

It just couldn't go any further right now. Later, perhaps, after this whole thing was over and he was a free man, he would find Granger and shag her into the ground like he wanted to now. But that was later.

For now, all he could do was take a cold shower.

Hermione was awakened the next morning by the pale sunlight sifting through the curtains. She stretched lazily, enjoying how extremely soft the sheets were and how warm and comfortable she was feeling.

Then she remembered where she was.

Suddenly she was wide awake, and she flung back the bedclothes and sprang out of bed, reaching for her robes, which she had laid neatly on the end of the bed the night before. They weren't there.

Instead, Hermione found a set of brand new robes in a deep purple, rich-looking fabric that was spangled with small silver stars. When it moved, the stars sparkled like actual stars in the night sky. She decided it was probably best not to try and fight Draco's mother, so she pulled the soft fabric over her head and smoothed in it place. Then she glanced in the mirror.

The robes were a bit more tailored than she was used to, hugging her curves in all the right places, and falling gracefully just where it should. The neckline was scooped, but not too low, she noticed appreciatively; and the sleeves were fitted at the top and belled out slightly below her elbows. All in all, she was satisfied, and thought to herself that Narcissa Malfoy did have good taste.

When Hermione was dressed and ready, she ventured out into the hallway. Which way now?

"Not lost, Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned. Lucius Malfoy was sneering down his nose at her. He continued past her down the hall, and she had little choice but to follow. Stupid house is too big for its own good, Hermione thought darkly.

When they arrived in the breakfast room, Draco and Narcissa were already there. Draco raised his eyebrows when he noticed her robes, but Narcissa clapped her hands and exclaimed,

"A perfect fit! How delightful; I must say you do look pretty!"

Hermione felt her face flush and sat down in the empty chair Narcissa indicated, next to Draco. Clearing his throat, Draco picked up his Daily Prophet and disappeared behind it. Hermione wished she could do the same.

The rest of the meal was filled with Narcissa's endless exclamations of how pretty Hermione looked this morning, alternating with her enthusiastic confidences of her plans for the evening's party, which Hermione must be included in, of course. After breakfast, when Narcissa rose to leave, she tugged Hermione with her, and as Draco chuckled from behind his newspaper, practically dragged her from the room.

Draco was feeling quite cheerful this morning. He had been covertly watching his mother terrorize Hermione all during breakfast, and he could think of nothing more amusing than Hermione stuck in her company for the entire day, helping to plan, supervise, and decorate for his celebration that night.

"May I have a word with you, Draco?" his father said suddenly from right beside him. Draco almost jumped. "My study. Now." Lucius raised an eyebrow gracefully, as if daring Draco to defy him.

"Of course, Father," Draco answered in a smooth voice, folding his paper casually while his father swept from the room. He silently congratulated himself, sure that his father was calling this meeting to tell him that if only he would come to his senses and get rid of Hermione, he would be released from the contract and all obligations to it. And also that Lucius would freely give his blessing for Draco to shag Hermione whenever he pleased, as long as he didn't marry her. Well, why not?

When Draco entered his father's study five minutes later, he found him with his back to the door, facing the window. Draco cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Sit down," his father commanded, not turning from the window. Draco obeyed, mostly from force of habit. Scowling, he said defiantly,

"I'm not a child anymore, Father."

"Yes, but we must continue to respect our elders and our betters, mustn't we, Draco?" Lucius replied, turning at last to face his son.

"Which brings me to my point," he continued, ignoring Draco's thinly-veiled fury. "I want to once more implore you to drop your little ruse…before you get in over your head."

"Is that a threat?" Draco asked hotly, gripping the arms of the wooden chair he was sitting in until his knuckles were white.

"Draco," Lucius said calmly, spreading his hands wide in a gesture of good will. "Let us be reasonable. You and I both know that you have no desire to marry Miss Granger. It is understandable, of course," he sighed, crossing to sit across from Draco, folding his hands on the edge of his desk. Draco could feel what little hold he had on his temper slipping.

"Exactly what is it that you're saying?"

"Simply that you chose the worst possible match for yourself," Lucius said with a smirk. "That was your intention, was it not?" Draco winced slightly. It was true, it was his plan, but that still gave his father no right to talk about her like…well, it wasn't like she was so horrible, after all, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch for him to be with her.

"After all," his father continued when he didn't answer, "she may have the blood and the name, but she is extremely common, and completely ignorant when it comes to—"

"Don't you EVER call Hermione Granger ignorant in front of me!" Draco roared, finally loosing his temper and shooting up from the chair, knocking it over backwards behind him. "Just because she doesn't care about the stupid load of shite you think is important doesn't make her ignorant! In fact, it makes her a fucking genius who makes people like you look common!"

Lucius stared at Draco for a full minute. Draco was shaking with rage, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he tried to keep himself from flying across the desk at the older man.

"I'm going to ask you once more to reconsider," Lucius said at last in a dangerously calm voice. "And then I'm going to leave this room and forget that we ever had this conversation. You've forgotten who you're dealing with, Draco. I urge you to stop this ridiculous charade at once."

And with that, Lucius rose to his feet and stared Draco in the eyes for a long moment. Then he was gone.


A/N I love previews. Don't you?

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When the song ended, Hermione sighed deeply, still gazing into Draco's eyes, and he silently wondered what it would be like to actually be in a relationship with her. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear as his eyes were drawn to her lips.

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Oh and I'm going to be even more evil and say that in the next chapter, there will be a lovely plot twist that (hopefully) no one will have seen coming. I sure didn't.