Draco did not know exactly what he had been expecting when he had left his pocket square in the changing room. Of course, he had hoped that Granger would understand that it was his. And that it was a sign that he wanted to talk to her. He knew it was a risk, and that she might never want to speak to him again afterwards because she was ashamed. He knew her too little to gauge her reaction.

But that she would come to him at the Slytherin table on Saturday morning at breakfast in front of everyone, pocket square in hand, was something he would never have dreamed of.

He could see anger in her eyes and maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore that her hair was even wilder than usual. She balled her hands into fists and clenched her jaws so tightly that her whole face contorted into a mask of laboriously suppressed rage. Theo, Blaise, and most of the other students at the table stared at her expectantly. Draco, on the other hand, suddenly felt as if he had accidentally awakened a dangerous beast.

She stretched out her one fist and dropped the cloth on the table beside him. Overwhelmed, he looked up at her, straight into her brown eyes where the fire of rage flickered.

"You. Me. Tonight. Same place, same time."

Without giving him a chance to say anything in response, she stomped away. Her hunched shoulders and clenched fists told him she was still seething with anger.

"By Merlin, Draco, what have you done to Granger?" Blaise made no effort to hide his laughter.

Defensively, Draco raised his hands. "Nothing! I was just signalling to her that I'd like to ... talk to her. About a ... thing."

Theo beside him propped his chin on one hand and eyed him insistently. "Are you sure that's all? She seemed a little tense to me."

"A little tense?" snorted Blaise. "I wouldn't have been surprised if she turned into a dragon in front of us and ate Draco for breakfast. I've never seen her so angry."

Draco swallowed. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time Granger's anger had been directed at him. Carefully, he folded up his pocket square and stuffed it into a pocket of his trousers. Perhaps he had miscalculated the impact of his message.

"Let's hope she doesn't try to break my nose again," he muttered softly.

"You're going to meet her?", Theo wanted to know, puzzled. "After that? Do you have a death wish?"

Reluctantly, Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "I asked for the talk. I'm not going to turn tail now. Or do I look like a coward?"

Immediately Blaise raised both hands. "No one here thinks you're a coward, Draco."

Grumbling, he stared into his coffee mug. Why did Granger have to make such a big fuss about this? How was he supposed to explain to Theo and Blaise what it was all about between them? He wanted to keep it a secret until he knew where he stood. Now Granger made a scene in front of everyone earlier than necessary. Was that really necessary?

Maybe he should better not go. If she was that angry now, it was unlikely that anything good could come out of a conversation.

Immediately he shook his head. No, he would regret not going. He was still curious, despite everything. And the likelihood that Granger would cast some unknown curse on him if he did not appear was also very high.

oOoOoOo

Impatiently, Hermione tapped her foot. Both arms folded in front of her chest, legs crossed, she sat on one of the benches in the changing room and stared glumly at the entry door. Part of her was still horrified that she had challenged Malfoy so publicly. She was ashamed and afraid he would spill her secret. But at least today he had kept his mouth shut, for no nasty remarks or secret whisperings got through to her.

She would not let her shame get her down. Clinging to her anger at Malfoy with everything she had, she braced herself for the conversation. The anger gave her the confidence to look him in the eye.

At last, the door opened. Malfoy entered, closed the door behind him, and quietly placed an anti-eavesdropping charm over it. He paused for a moment too long with his gaze fixed on the door, then finally turned to face her.

"Granger," he greeted her as casually as if nothing had happened between them.

Upset, Hermione jumped up and stood in front of him. "Malfoy. I didn't think you'd stoop so low. I knew you were a slimy snake, but I didn't think you could do something like this."

She saw him widen his eyes and raise both hands as if surprised by her angry words. Outraged, she took a step towards him and held a finger under his nose. "Don't think I'm backing down. Don't think I'm ashamed! You can't do anything to me!"

The confusion on his face only made her angrier, but Hermione held back. She had to let him have his say so they could make some kind of progress.

"I don't know what you think this is," Malfoy began slowly, still raising both hands defensively. "I don't want you to back down or be embarrassed at all."

Snorting, she waved a hand in front of his face. "Oh, please. Don't pretend. I know exactly what you want. You think you can blackmail me, right?"

"Blackmail?" The word came out of his mouth in such surprise that Hermione paused for a brief moment. Was this really not his plan? Suspiciously, she narrowed her eyes.

"Granger, I have no idea what you've got worked out in that pretty little head of yours, but I certainly don't want to blackmail you," Malfoy said slowly and emphatically. He looked her straight in the eye without blinking.

Confused, Hermione lowered her hand. "Then what do you want?"

Faint hope stirred in her that they could find a peaceful solution to the problem. If she was honest, she had had trouble believing that Malfoy was so low and wanted to blackmail her anyway. But it had been the only reasonable explanation. So, what did he want then?

It suddenly occurred to her that he had not given her an answer. Instead, he just looked at her. Looked into her eyes. openly, inquiringly. Full of desire.

They stood only centimetres apart. Hermione returned his gaze, craning her neck to look up at him. She felt as if her brain suddenly stopped working. She did not understand what he was trying to tell her with his silent gaze. She only felt her heart beating faster and faster and suddenly had difficulty breathing.

When he took a small step towards her, she involuntarily backed away. What was he up to? What did he want from her? Why did he not answer her question?

She took another step back, bumping into the wall. He followed her. Stopped right in front of her, towering her. One of his muscular arms leaned against the wall above her head as he slowly bent towards her. She stared at him with wide eyes. Was he about to ...? Heat spread through her body and a nervous flutter gripped her stomach. Was she dreaming?

Malfoy's other hand came to rest on her hip as if by chance. Gently he pulled her against him until their bodies touched. She could feel his breath on her cheeks, and the heat of his body, and the hardness of his trained chest. She smelled his unique, masculine scent. Arousal rolled over her.

And as his lips ghosted over her neck, her lids fluttered shut as if on their own. Her hands gripped his shirt and a deep sigh escaped her.