I Love(d) You (Once)

Chapter Two: Lip Lock

Someone once said the most private place could be found in the most public of places. Following this logic, they confirmed their Secret Plan in the staff lunch room.

"What do you think?" Draco asked as he did his best to ignore the hygiene standards in a place people prepared food in. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why people left noodles in the sink. It was insane, disgusting!

Hermione, in much better spirits, poured the remains of her cup noodles down the sink and under Draco's insistence, ran the basin with water until everything disappeared down the drain."How do we get the Polyjuice?" She winced, remembering the first time she used the potion. "We don't have enough time to brew it."

"I can get some."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're in contact with the League of Evil?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise."

"Oh," said Hermione shortly. She needed no further elaboration. "He's not doing anything illegal these days… right?"

"If breaking hearts counts as a crime, he belongs in Azkaban," said Draco, scowling. "He uses it as a quick getaway."

"Who does he pretend to be?"

"Me," he sighed. "I lost a stupid bet and gave him a few hairs on my head. Plus, I'm his only friend. He lost all his male friends when he stole their girlfriends."

Hermione scoffed and shook her head and wondered why Draco was friends with awful people. She leaned back in her chair and stretched. "You have the most awful friends."

"Don't say bad things about people I care about."

"You keep making comments about meant Ron," she countered.

Draco looked at Hermione and grabbed her by the shoulders in mock courtesy. "So Granger, how are you and Weaselbee? Happy playing house together, I presume? Does he plan to pop the big question anytime soon? Can I be one of your bridesmaids? You might not be able to tell, but I'm quite a stunner in a dress."

Hermione shook her head, horrified at the idea. "Nothing like that. In fact…"

"Trouble in paradise?"

"No, it's nothing. But I am annoyed with him right now."

"What, did he throw away your bonus card when you needed one more stamp to get a discount or something?"

Hermione glared at Draco. "You couldn't possibly understand."

Draco grinned self-indulgently, showing off his designer-brand watch. "Nope, sorry I can't sympathize with being poor."

"We're not poor," said Hermione defensively. "It's just hard to buy a proper piece of property. That's why I'm trying to save every knut I can. Too bad it's now against the law to exchange Muggle money with Galleons or I'd be loaded. Of course, some idiot had to crash the wizarding economy and ruin it for everyone else!"

"Er—" interjected Draco, knowing he had to stop Hermione from ranting or they'd be here until nightfall…

"What is with men and Quidditch? I suppose I'm being sexist and there is a glaring example of Ginny running off to play and write for the sports—not that there's anything wrong with it—except you're playing one of the most dangerous sport created since civilization started; I'm sure the gladiator rings were safer than a game of Quidditch—"

Draco cringed. It was a bad idea to ask her about Ron. "Stop!" he said, covering his ears. "I'm not Ron, so don't vent your frustrations at me."

Hermione's glare—she'd been glaring at Draco—softened. "Sorry."

"Remind me never to ask you what your personal life's like," he said, shaking his head.

"You're the best."

"I know." They shared a smile three shades more affectionate than necessary. He unfolded his arms and at a business-like distance, squeezed her shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Thank you," she said. The kettle reflected a warped picture of his hand that lingered on her shoulder and her hand crept up to touch his. Artie stepped into the room at the most inopportune time. He blushed and turned around, leaving in one swift motion.

Draco's hand flew off her shoulder and Hermione's dropped to her side. She scowled at the door to the lunchroom and yelled, "Seriously? He's going to run?"

Artie, who had been hiding behind the door, poked his head out and waved with a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to intrude… I didn't meant to run away—"

"But you did," Hermione interrupted.

"Like a girl," added Draco with extra viciousness, embarrassed Artie had caught him off guard. Not that he had been doing something immoral. Yet he knew resting his hand on her shoulder and keeping it there for an unreasonable amount of time was… bad. Inappropriate. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Hey, cowering from fear is not a feminine trait."

Artie licked his lips and spread his arms out as though he was preparing himself in some sort of sacrificial ritual. "Do what you want with me."

"Don't swing that way," Draco said, shaking his head.

"No, thank you," she replied.

(23rd December)

People walked in and out of the Mar company. Hermione and Draco took advantage on the human need to eat lunch. They crouched beneath bushes on a lookout for suitable candidates. After a few minutes of prowling, Draco pointed at a couple on a bench who was eating their sandwiches and were engaged in a quiet but intense discussion.

"Those two?"

"Yeah, it's safe bet. They have to work here," she said, looking around. The place is good too. Quiet: no one would walk in on us."

He nodded grimly. This was the part of the plan he felt most uncomfortable about. They approached the lunching pair from behind—"Stupefy," they whispered in unison.

The lunch-couple slouched forward. Hermione and Draco levitated the pair and took them around the side of the building. Hermione, having stripped an unconscious person before (she had sneaked into the Ministry using the same method) dressed herself in the lady's pantsuit and pulled a few strands of hair from the woman's head. She uncapped the Polyjuice potion with a pop! placed the hairs into the potion and swallowed the concoction in one gulp.

"Yuck, this stuff is nasty," Draco said, and Hermione saw his features morphing. Within seconds, she saw two identical men; one unconscious and stripped down to his underwear and the other wore a navy suit, scowling at the awful aftertaste of Polyjuice potion.

"Let's get moving," Draco said after hiding the bodies in the bushes. They passed through the firm's double doors and Hermione nodded at the security guard who gave her a smile in return.

They entered the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. The previous day, Hermione managed to get the layout of the Mar Company and it turned out a filing room on the third floor stored their company's files that needed processing.

"Let's go replace that contract," Draco said, shifting from one leg to the other. He wasn't brave and if it wasn't for Hermione, he wouldn't have attempted such a plan with a ten-foot pole.

"The contract would be kept in files room, right? Level three."

The elevator doors opened and the pair looked left and right before leaving the elevator. "It's here," said Draco pointing to the door at the end of the corridor.

Hermione tried for the door and it rattled against her grasp. "It's locked." She took out a hairpin from her bag and began picking the door.

"You know, magic would be so much faster," murmured Draco, still unconvinced she could replace a key with wire.

"But traceable. And the whole point is not to be traced." She gritted her teeth as she felt the time tick away. The Polyjuice would last for half an hour, so every second was precious to them. "Let's hope that the Mar Company has a coherent filing system."

The lock clicked and the door swung open. Hermione gave Draco an 'I told you so' look before slipping into the room. Inside there were shelves and on the shelves were boxes of folders and files lined together like tombstones. Draco shut the door behind them and pointed to the left side of the room. "You start from the left, and I'll start from the right." He pulled out a box and saw the number on its side. "1998."

Hermione rushed over to Draco's side. "Much closer than mine. I was in the 1960s. That's when the company started." She jerked her thumb at the boxes on the shelf in the middle of the room. "Think it could be from there?"

"It makes sense." He walked over and nodded. "Thank goodness for Director Mar's filing system. This makes everything so much easier—they're marked by months here."

Draco pulled out the box labeled 'December' and rummaged through its contents. His hands ran through a series of files before he stopped at a black one with the gold inscription Pucey and Prewett on the bottom right corner. "It's here!"

The rattle of the door knob ruined their moment of triumph and their happy faces morphed into ones of horror. Hermione darted to Draco's side and replaced the old contract with the new one (identity theft, trespassing, forging; go big or go home).

Draco pulled out his wand and set the old contract on fire. The file violently combusted and an orange-green flame reduced the paper to black soot just as the door swung open.

"Follow my lead." Hermione pulled him down by his tie and crushed her lips against his.