Life's been crazy busy, but hopefully I can get the rest of the story posted soon. Big thanks as always to Mcal for being, really just a lovely friend, but also taking her time to support my whims in this story and beta. You're amazing, Mcal!

I have no rights to any part of the Harry Potter Franchise.

Chapter 11

Time has an unfeeling habit of marching on despite the circumstances of one's life.

Draco found this especially true as the weeks dragged on with no insight into Hermione's disappearance.

He clung to Caroline's promise that she would come back, but his faith was slipping.

Work was a passable distraction, but the company ran smoothly and the board of directors was wholly competent, leaving little for Draco.

He continued to harass Potter, but even the small joy in irritating his former rival was waning as he watched Potter's life progress as he wished his was. Potter and Ginny were recently engaged, driving the spike in deeper as he ached for Hermione each day. Hell, even Weasley seemed to be finding happiness. Where was his portion? Where was Hermione? They still knew nothing more than they had before.

Narcissa threw herself into charities and gardening and Draco could see the fire returning fully to her eyes. His envy, like his pain, knew no bounds.

Returning from work on a blustery fall day, he was surprised to enter the Manor without a greeting from his mother. He called for Sprocket and was told she was in the garden.

Draco ventured out the door of the solarium and strolled down the path. Before he rounded a bend in the lane he heard laughter and another voice joining that of his mother's.

"You were positively apoplectic." Twin lilts of female laughter floated over the hedges.

"Can you blame me? It was my favorite dress." It was Pansy.

Draco stepped quietly around the neatly-trimmed boxwoods and watched as the two witches spread soil and gently nestled bulbs within its depths.

"Those boys always had a knack for finding trouble, and you young lady," Narcissa pointed at Pansy with her trowel, an amused smile on her dirt smudged face, "You were never far behind."

Pansy shrugged, she seemed surprisingly clean, "I didn't want to miss any of the fun." They laughed again and placed the last of the bulbs into their holes. As they began to gather their tools and stand, Draco made himself known.

"I should have known you'd be out here, Mother." He reached them and planted a kiss to his mother's cheek. Stepping back he acknowledged Pansy with a respectful nod.

Narcissa began dusting her dirt stained hands on her utility robes as she looked on their work and bent to pick up the remaining tools. Pansy looked down at her hands and then at her bright sundress with a grimace. Holding her hands out, palms up, toward Draco, she raised her eyebrows in silent question and he brandished his wand to clean the dirt from her hands.

Pansy reached up and removed the pin from her hair allowing it to cascade over her shoulders. Her raven tresses fell in rivers of soft curl that framed her face. "I must look an absolute fright." She breathed, looking at Draco from beneath her dark lashes.

Draco was taken aback. "I-I didn't know you had curly hair?"

She giggled and shrugged, "It's always been like this. I usually spell it straight. Seemed silly to keep going through the trouble." Tucking one of the coiling locks behind her ear, while biting her bottom lip drew a gasp from Draco. The mannerism was so reminiscent of Hermione. Pansy blushed at the attention.

"Well, if you ladies will excuse me, I've some things to take care of in my study." And with that he turned to escape the disconcerting events of the past few moments. As he rounded the hedgerow, he heard his mother's voice once more.

"My, Pansy, are you warm? Your face is quite flushed."

Draco extended his strides to reach the house faster.

He put the strange occurrence with Pansy in the garden out of his mind, attempting to cling once again to routine daily tasks and obligations.

Dinner with his mother often proved a welcome distraction.

However, one particular evening, he found his normally quiet dinner for two, a dinner for three, with Pansy joining them.

She beamed at him from across the table as he took his seat. "You're looking well, Pansy."

"So are you, Draco." Her tone soft and shy, very unlike the Pansy he once knew. But Draco resolved not to dwell on the inconsistencies of manner in relationship to personal growth and tucked into the first course of his meal.

Narcissa was a gracious hostess and dinner was comfortable, but soon the dessert plates were cleared and the evening was drawing to a close. "If you'll excuse me," Narcissa rose from the table, Draco followed suit as manner dictated, "I must see to some correspondence before turning in. Draco, darling, you'll see Miss Parkinson to the floo?"

"Of course, mother" He agreed, placing a kiss to her warm cheek as she passed him to exit the room.

Pansy rose from her chair and stepped around the table, coming to stand in front of Draco. She gave him another of those beneath-eyelashes gazes and a shy smile while she tucked once again curly hair behind her ear. "I've had a lovely time tonight. Should we have a drink in your study?"

With a sigh and a discomfited rub to the back of his neck he answered, "I'm afraid I must turn in as well. Busy day tomorrow and all that."

"Very well." Her previously smooth voice edged with something sharp, "I'll just be going then."

"I'll see you out." And offering his arm he escorted her to the floo in the front room.

Draco tried not to feel the tension in the air as he walked her toward the exit. It felt strangely like a date, even with his rational brain reminding him it most certainly was not.

Reaching the floo, Pansy turned toward him, every bit the demure flower he'd never seen her. "I hope we can see each other again soon."

"I'm sure we will. You and mother seem to get along swimmingly."

She blinked up at him. "You and I get along well too."

"Well, we have known each other for some time, it's only natural," he allowed. "Have a restful evening." He bent to offer her a friendly peck on her cheek, but as his face approached hers she turned and captured his lips in a kiss.

It began as just a press, but she darted her tongue between his lips. Good judgment gave way to the loss of a lover's touch these long months since Hermione's disappearance, and he returned the pressure. He pulled back suddenly, his gut roiling with his perceived indiscretion. Pansy was looking at him with wide eyes, once again biting that bottom lip as her breath escaped in quick pants.

"Good night then, Draco." And with that, the floo sprung to life and she disappeared into the green flames.

Draco groaned at this new complication and headed to his study for a firewhisky after all.

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