A/N: Congrats to the readers who figured out who 'Troy Fendalton' represented - just a chap who played Draco in a Harry Potter movie or two… or eight ;)

Everyone's champing at the bit to see what happens when Noah appears on the scene! It's a long chapter, so let's crack on!

The first thing Hermione saw when she opened the door were two rudely healthy humans who appeared to be artificially fending off middle age. Hermione let herself be engulfed by Bill and Samantha Dorchester's greeted exclamations and hugs. Judging by the foreign firmness of Samantha's over-tanned chest, Hermione wondered if Bill had taken up plastic surgery.

Next was Daisy, firmly in the dramatic throes of puberty, it would appear. Her long hair was blue, her clothes were floaty, and her nose stud looked, to Hermione, like a real diamond. The plastic surgery must be paying off.

Daisy vacantly returned Hermione's hug and wafted down the hallway to the kitchen.

Hermione stared after her, amazed at how much change a year can bring about. Last summer, fourteen-year-old, pony-tailed Daisy was galloping around in shorts and a t-shirt, chasing an irritated Crooks and talking nineteen to the dozen to anyone who got within six feet of her.

'Ah, Hermione,' exclaimed a pompous voice behind her. ''Reunited, and it feels so good.''*

Oh, God. Now she'll never get that cheesy song out of her head. Summoning up a professional smile, she turned around to face the final Dorchester. 'Noah! Hello.'

He stood in the doorway, wearing a salmon pink polo shirt and sand-coloured cargo shorts, smiling smarmily and holding out both his arms. Hermione eyed them cautiously, but good manners prevented her from backing away and high-tailing it to the patio.

'How are you?' she asked, stepping into his embrace. 'Oof!'

Noah's arms clamped around her like a vice and lifted her off the floor. 'It's so good to see you again!' he brayed. 'God, you look hot.'

'C-can't b-breathe…' she wheezed.

'Oh! Sorry.' Noah loosened his embrace, but didn't let her go. Looking up, Hermione only just dodged a sloppy kiss from wet, pink lips by wrenching her head to one side. He made landfall on her cheek, instead.

Resisting, with great effort, the temptation to rub her cheek raw and then sanitise it, she stepped back and looked at him. 'You've gotten taller. Good for you!' she finished lamely.

Noah preened, and brushed his tawny, preppy-cut hair out of his green eyes. 'Taller, fitter, stronger – you name it, girl, I've developed. In every way.' He winked at her knowingly.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what that wink was meant to convey. If he was talking about his todger, she didn't think there was anything more that could be done for the poor little thing.

'Well,' she said, 'come on in. There's someone I'd like you to meet.'

Noah, as all the Grangers quickly learned, wasn't big on listening to anyone except himself. 'Have you got your A levels back yet?' he asked. 'Mine were fantastic. Of course, Dad's not happy that I didn't get into medical school, but seriously, who wants to study for another five to ten years or more?' He shuddered.

'Well,' began Hermione.

'Some friends and I are going into the wine business, it's really exciting,' he continued proudly. We'll travel around Europe, testing wines from the best vineyards to bring back to the UK and sell to restaurants. Dad's refusing to invest in it, which is really pathetic of him, you know. Keeps banging on about business models and market share and other such bullshit. In fact, I was hoping your father' –

'Noah!' Jean spied her daughter and that silly boy Noah at the entrance to the kitchen. 'How lovely to see you again, dear. Goodness, haven't you grown?'

Noah paused in his monologue to draw breath and kiss Jean on the cheek. 'How are you, Jean?' he boomed. 'You look really well for a woman of your years.'

Jean's smile diminished by a few watts.

'Would you like a drink?' she asked between clenched teeth. 'Beer, or' –

'Beer? Gawd no, how common,' Noah replied, laughing heartily and not realising that no-one else was joining in. 'No, a wine would suit me best.'

Hermione waited for the 'please,' but it was apparent it wouldn't be forthcoming. 'I'll get one,' she said. 'Red or white?'

Noah, who was preening in the reflection of the china hutch's glass doors, said cheerfully 'Oh, I think a white would do in this weather, eh?'

Hermione rolled her eyes and headed to the drinks fridge, which lived in the utility room. She carefully poured a glass of wine, resisted the urge to spit in it, and carried it back to London's Biggest Tosser, a.k.a. Noah Dorchester.

'Cheers.' He took the wineglass, peered at the liquid, swirled it around and gave it an enthusiastic sniff. 'Ah,' he said dramatically, 'a lovely mineral and lime aroma with a crunchy, acidic palate.'

Jean and Hermione looked blank. They weren't entirely sure who he was speaking to.

He took a healthy sip and swirled it around his mouth. He looked around for a place to spit it out, but as the Granger's kitchen was inconveniently lacking a spittoon, he swallowed, instead. 'An attractive fullness to the texture. Resolves well with a tight finish. Oh, yes, this is a lovely Australian Sauvignon Blanc, Hermione.'

'Actually, it's a pinot grigio. From Argentina.'

Jean clattered some cutlery together to cover the snort of laughter that escaped from her mouth.

'Really?' For the briefest of moments, Noah looked uncertain. But he quickly got over it. 'You sure?'

Hermione smiled her Slytherin smile. 'Maybe I had a moment and completely forgot how to read.'

Noah nodded. 'I'm sure it happens to many women at their time of the month,' he said condescendingly. 'Shall I have a look?'

Following Noah to the drinks fridge, Hermione's shrunk wand burned a hole in her back pocket. She was usually against violence in any form, but perhaps she could set her principles aside for this one, well-deserved case…

Meanwhile, Draco was experiencing the other Dorchesters. First cab off the rank was Daisy the Wraith, who boggled at him, open of mouth and wide of eye. 'Omigod…' she whispered. Then: 'OMIGOD!' she shrieked. 'Y-you're Troy Fendalton! Omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod…'

Et cetera and so forth.

Andrew, brandishing the tongs at the grilling sausages, looked at Daisy with mild alarm. 'Should I fetch a paper bag for her to blow into?' he asked Bill.

Bill cracked open a beer. 'Nah, she'll be fine.'

Draco waited for a pause in the 'omigods' to explain that he wasn't Troy Fendalton, but (in his opinion) was a far cooler person called Draco.

Daisy fell silent, tears of adoration brimming in her large, expressive eyes. 'You look so much like him,' she whispered.

Samantha stepped up to the plate, practically elbowing her daughter out of the way in her haste to enter Draco's breathing zone. 'Draco, hi, so lovely to meet you. I'm Samantha,' she purred in a low voice before wrapping her skinny, bronzed arms tightly around his neck and practically puncturing two holes in Draco's chest with her titanium-hard nipples and almost-solid breasts.

Initially overwhelmed by being full-body hugged by a complete stranger with very odd breasts who may or may not have deliberately pressed herself up against his crotch, he quickly recovered and took Samantha's hand, kissing it. 'Likewise, Samantha,' he said, smiling politely.

She stared at her kissed hand, before turning to Daisy in glee. 'Omigod, that's so romantic!' she gushed to her disappointed, pouty daughter.

If Daisy's mum was oblivious to her daughter's mood, Draco wasn't.

(And that just goes to show how far he's come in such a short time.)

'I forgot to greet you properly, didn't I?' he said sheepishly to Daisy, despite the fact that the opportunity was hijacked by her mother. He held out his hand. 'May I?'

Daisy's pout disappeared and a beautiful smile took its place. Shyly, she held her hand out. He gave her an appropriately watered-down panty-dropping grin before taking her hand and gently touching it with his lips. He winked as he let her hand go.

Daisy cradled her kissed hand with the other one. 'I'm never washing this hand again,' she whispered, wide-eyed.

Samantha snorted and took a good slug of wine.

The Dorchester patriarch ambled up, beer in one hand, sporting an over-bronzed tan, luminous teeth and luscious, dark hair that even Draco could tell was dyed. 'Bill's the name,' he said cheerfully. 'I work in the same medical facility as Andrew and Jean.'

'Nice to meet you, sir,' Draco said, shaking his hand.

'So, what brings you to the Grangers?' Bill asked.

'I'm Hermione's boyfriend,' he said with quiet pride. 'We're staying for a couple of weeks before we start our further study.'

'Boyfriend?' demanded Samantha. 'How surprising.'

Draco was quickly learning not to like the lady with the concrete tits. 'Why is that surprising?' he asked with a polite but wintry smile.

Samantha was going to say 'Isn't it obvious? Look at you! Look at her!' but at the last second decided to change tack. 'Well,' she flustered, 'I was under the impression dear Hermione was in a relationship with our son Noah.' She batted her false eyelashes innocently.

Out of her mother's sight - not that Samantha paid much attention to her anyway – Draco saw Daisy roll her eyes and pretend to stick her finger down her throat.

Noah? thought Draco. The name doesn't ring a bell.

He tried not to feel jealous. He knew he was the last person on the planet who should be jealous about one ex-boyfriend of Hermione's, when the number of girls that he'd shagged (plus Nott) numbered well into the, er…. let's see… carry the one…

There was a lot. Let's leave it at that.

Getting back to this Noah. He shouldn't be jealous. He had no need to be jealous.

Hell yeah, he was jealous.

'Oh, look! There's my darling boy now!' Samantha trilled, waving a bangle-jangling arm at the kitchen door.

Draco turned and watched as an utter buffoon in a pink shirt and what looked to be articles of rubber attached to his bare feet swanned into view, holding a wine glass in a limp hand. 'Andrew, hello!' the buffoon boomed, flip-flopping his way to the grill and extending his free hand for a hearty top-handed handshake. 'How's the dental business treating you?'

'Well,' began Andrew.

'Ah! We have a new arrival!' honked Noah, as he zeroed in on the blonde Adonis, who was sipping a craft beer and minding his own business.

'We?' Draco wondered. Is this prick already marking out his territory?

'Noah Dorchester!' announced Noah Dorchester, gripping Draco's right hand in an almost bone-pulverising handshake. 'And you are…?'

Fucking annoyed, thought Draco. 'Draco Malfoy,' he said neutrally.

'Drago, lovely,' beamed Noah. 'And what do you do?'

'Do?' Draco was struggling to understand Muggle English again.

Hermione popped out from behind Noah, clutching a very large glass of wine and looking like one of her migraines was approaching. 'It's Draco, Noah. He's going to study chemistry and become a teacher,' she said faux-brightly. 'Noah, Draco is my' -

'Teacher?' Noah brayed. 'Gawd, couldn't think of anything worse, old chum!' He laughed heartily. 'Know anything about wine, do you?'

'Well,' began Draco.

'Fascinating industry, fascinating, don't you know! As a matter of fact...'

Off he went on a rambling monologue that soon had Draco and Hermione bored to absolute tears. They quickly finished their drinks and telegraphed Hermione's dad with their eyes to bring over refills.

Samantha stood next to Jean, watching her set out food, plates and cutlery on their ancient, weathered picnic table. 'He's such an enterprising young man,' she said proudly to Jean, who had her hands full with salad bowls, fresh bread and condiments. 'Has quite an exciting venture set up with some chums from school – something in wine. He's incredibly knowledgeable. Bill refuses to invest, it's so vexing.' She pouted and cast another covetous glance at Draco's arse through her wine glass.

'Vexing,' agreed Jean, shortly.

Well, readers: now seems like a good time to dip into the thoughts of the assembled, while the steaks finish resting!

Draco

Hermione was in a relationship with this twat? Oh, Hermione, Hermione. Surely you could have done better for yourself? Oh, wait! You have. Yeah, that's right, Noah, me old mate. I was her first, not you. And I'll be her only, if I have anything to do with it.

Mental note – stay away from Samantha and her chest. Those nipples are liable to poke an eye out. And did she try to get an imprint of my dick when she hugged me?

Hermione

What on earth was I thinking last year? Was I so desperate for any bloke to give me the time of day and treat me like a normal girl that I was going to give my virginity to Noah? Thank God he ejaculated the second he saw my bare breasts. Oh Lord, I am so embarrassed! What's Draco going to do when he finds out?

Well, he'll either go ape, or laugh so hard he'll wet himself. Not sure which option I would prefer, to be honest.

Poor Daisy. I know what it's like to not fit in. School was hell before Hogwarts. I should hang out with her for a bit. It will take my mind off wanting to hex Noah's chest hair purple.

Samantha had better keep her claws off Draco. I've seen the way she looks at him, like he was a man-sized chocolate-mint Cornetto. Bloody woman ought to be ashamed of herself. He's the same age as her son!

Noah

Ah, they're hanging off my every word. Struck dumb, even! Wonder if this Drago pup has any money? His haircut looks expensive, even if his clothes aren't from a label I recognise. Why is he here, anyway? Oh well, who cares.

My word, hasn't Hermione grown up in the past year? The tits on her! And that freakish mess she calls hair seems to have settled down nicely. Imagine how photogenic I would look with her by my side! She'll be an asset to the business, I'm sure. Hugo, Aloysius and Monty will be dead jealous when they find out I'm boffing her, haha!

Daisy

Draco's absolutely GORGEOUS. And he's so nice! He's so like Troy it's scary. Hermione's so lucky. I'll have to ask him for a photo. There's no way the girls at school would believe me, otherwise, the bitches. In fact, I could even pretend that it is Troy. They'll never know. Then they'll be dead jealous and want to be my friend, and I'll have someone to talk to.

God, Mum's an embarrassment, making cow eyes at a bloke young enough to be her son. And Noah. What a Grade A, five-star prick. It's humiliating being his sister; all the girls in my class give me grief about what a twat he is. Which is true, but I don't need to hear it from them.

I'm certain I'm adopted. I must renew my efforts to search the house for adoption papers when I get home.

Bill

I should probably warn Andrew that the boy will try to nag him into investing in his 'business venture,' a.k.a. a five-star gap year flitting around Europe in the lap of luxury, funded by some fool with too much money.

My word, aren't Samantha's jubblies looking spot on? Especially compared to Jean's, poor lass. She should really get hers done. I'll even give her mate's rates.

As for Hermione – now, there's a pair of breasts you'd be proud to hang on your consulting office wall as an example of perfect specimens! Wonder if she'll let me photograph them? Best to ask without the boyfriend hovering around. He doesn't look the open-minded type.

Where's Daisy? Ah! There she is, on the swing. Funny how invisible a girl can be with blue hair. Poor thing looks sad. I know! I'll give her breast implants for her sixteenth birthday. That always cheers a woman up. Well. Cheers me up, at any rate.

Samantha

Funny how you see a movie star and you think 'Oh, just another pretty boy with cotton wool for brains and abs you could grate cheese on.' But seeing him in the flesh – well, his Doppelgänger, at least – makes one re-evaluate their qualities.

It's obvious that this Draco (now there's a sexy name!) is wasted on that bookwormy know-it-all girl. He needs someone with more experience, someone who can show him things. Teach him things. Guide him through the mysteries of womankind. Guide him inside my hot, wet – oh. Where was I?

He's obviously mesmerised by my new breasts. I saw him looking after we hugged. And as for his 'assets' below his belt - oh dear, I think I feel a hot flush coming on…

Andrew

Isn't it funny how when Bill and I talk about getting the families together for a meal, it always ends up happening here?

Noah has certainly turned out to be a chip off his mother's block. Both have the hide of a rhinoceros. I admit, I wasn't that keen when I heard that Hermione had taken up with a young wizard with little Muggle experience who either ignored, baited or bullied her about her marks or appearance for six years straight, but if Noah is the typical example of an eligible boy that Hermione could otherwise date, I'll take Blondie any day.

Jean

I must tell Andrew that I am only capable of tolerating Samantha for one day a year. I'm sure he'll understand.

Thank God Draco's here for the silly woman to salivate over, although I feel sorry for the poor boy. And poor Daisy. She looks so forlorn, sitting on the garden swing and playing on her phone. I'll sit her next to me at the table; we can have a chat. Actually, I'll do one better – I'll sit her next to Draco. And put Mummy Dearest at the opposite end of the table.

Right! Steaks are ready. Let's eat!

It was almost magic how Jean had everyone quickly sitting in her pre-allocated spots. Daisy looked like she'd won the lottery when a grinning Draco sat next to her and spread out a paper napkin on her lap like she was at the Ritz. Hermione sat opposite. Bill sat on Draco's other side, causing a little concern for Hermione as he appeared to be looking speculatively at her chest in between filling up his plate with food.

Unfortunately, Noah sat next to Hermione, and a sulking Samantha sat next to him. Andrew and Jean sat at each end of the table.

'Lovely spread, Grangers! You've outdone yourselves,' Bill said happily.

'Thank you, Bill,' Jean smiled. With no contribution from you, I would add – except I'm too polite.

It wasn't long before Noah commenced the entertainment.

'This is a lovely claret, Andrew!' he boomed, pronouncing it 'claray'. He held his wine glass up to the light and swirled it. 'Those Provence clarets have a certain unique bouquet, don't you think?'

Andrew, a beer drinker, shrugged and carried on eating.

Draco, however, looked at Noah like he was missing something important in his upstairs compartment and said 'Bordeaux.'

Noah, already halfway through his next sentence, faltered. 'Sorry, Drago?'

'Draco,' he said evenly. 'Claret comes from Bordeaux, not Provence.'

Noah laughed condescendingly. 'I'll have you know, dear chap, that I'm somewhat of an expert in wines,' he said. 'I'm certain you will find that clarets come from Provence. And you're pronouncing 'claret' wrong, too. 'It's 'claray.' The 't' is silent when it is at the end of the word in the French language.'

Samantha looked on proudly.

'I can look it up on my phone,' said Daisy helpfully.

'It's okay, love,' Draco smiled, picking up his own glass of the same wine. Turning to Noah, he said lightly 'I know for a fact that claret comes from Bordeaux because my family's company has a vineyard there. Plus one in Provence. And another in Burgundy. I've visited them many times.'

He took a sip of the 'lovely claray,' which Jean found in a bargain bin at Tesco, and tried to hide his wince. 'And it is pronounced 'clarette.' The term is generally used by Americans, not the French.'

Noah was struck dumb.

Hermione and Jean tried to hide their smiles behind forkfuls of food. Daisy's hero-worship of Draco soared. Andrew's estimation of Draco significantly improved, and Bill kept on eating and staring at Hermione's chest.

Samantha looked like she was about to have an orgasm at the picnic table, despite her darling child being so firmly put in his place. Hot, well-hung and family money? she thought hungrily. That's it. I'm calling the divorce lawyers tomorrow. Step aside, Miss girly-swot. You're no match for me and my 'girls.' She jiggled her 'girls,' warming them up.

'Well, that's – that's – that's – marvellous!' cried Noah. 'I knew, from the moment I saw you, that we would have a deep connection!'

Draco looked revolted. As well he might.

'You, Drago, have the privilege of being the first to join my company as a valued client!'

As Noah rabbitted on about 'opportunity this' and 'exciting potential for that', Draco tried to recall the highlights, if they can be called that, of Noah's earlier monologue. Selling wine to restaurants. As if it hadn't been done before.

Draco ate his meal and nodded at the right moments until Noah ran out of business whiz-words. Then he said 'I'm afraid there are three obstacles, old chap. I don't run the family business – my father does. And if you want to approach my father,' he continued, before Noah could interrupt, 'he'll need to see some evidence about the long-term viability and profitability of your enterprise. Other backers, existing funding, business models, profitability forecasts, confirmed contacts with restauranteurs, you know, that sort of thing.'

Noah didn't, but pretended he did.

'And finally, we have long-established relationships with reputable suppliers that trade our wines to the finest restaurants in Europe, so…' Draco shrugged, and swapped his revolting wine for another beer.

Never had Hermione loved Draco so much as she did then.

After dinner, the folks found themselves separated into two groups. Daisy, Draco and Hermione (plus Crooks, who was never far from Draco) sat on the lawn by the swing, where Daisy was trying to teach Draco how to play a game on her phone. The adults and Noah sat at the picnic table, where Noah, ego still in nick despite Draco's puncturing of it, attempted to convince Andrew to invest in his company. Andrew, Jean and Bill kept drinking. It muffled Noah's voice.

'No, no, Draco, the other way! Oh, no, you're dead again!' Daisy and Hermione laughed. Draco looked down his nose at them, then stuck it up in the air.

'I can't believe you don't have a mobile phone!' Daisy marvelled. 'I thought everyone had one these days.'

'Er, well…' hedged Draco.

Hermione came to the rescue. 'We weren't allowed them in school. So, Draco didn't see any point in getting one.'

Daisy nodded, satisfied. 'Is there any ice cream?' she asked hopefully.

Hermione grinned. Daisy was so much more like the happy child she had known all these years. 'We've got some Magnum ice creams in the freezer; fancy one of those?'

'Oh, yes please!' Daisy's eyes lit up. 'Are you going to have one, Draco?'

Draco, who had turned the phone upside down to see if the game made more sense that way, said (to Hermione, as he had no clue what a magnum was, except in champagne terms) 'Do I?'

'Yes, you do,' she laughed. 'I'll get them.'

She hopped up, brushing grass off her lovely derrière as she headed inside, thus distracting Draco both from his new game and the fact that Bill got up from the picnic table as Hermione passed by.

The ice creams were kept in the freezer part of the drinks fridge. Hermione, as we know, was rather wanting in the height department, so she stood on her tip-toes and reached as far in to the top freezer as she could, scrabbling for the desserts with her head facing away from the utility room door.

She squealed when she felt two hands grope her breasts and jiggle them. 'Stop it, Draco,' she giggled, then turned around.

Then she screamed.

Outside, Draco paused the game and looked up in confusion.

'What's wrong?' asked Daisy.

'Did you hear something?' he asked.

She shook her head.

Uncertain, Draco went back to the game.

Meanwhile, Hermione had angrily shoved Bill up against the utility room door and only just prevented herself from whipping her wand out and hexing him a good one between the legs. 'Doctor Dorchester, what the hell are you doing?' she stormed.

Bill was a little surprised to see such a little lady act so ferociously. 'It's all perfectly fine, my dear,' he assured her. 'I was just checking if you padded your bra, you see.'

Hermione gaped. 'Why the hell would you want to know something like that?' she snapped. 'And I don't, by the way.'

Bill's eyes lit up. 'Because, dear girl, you have exquisite breasts!' he exclaimed happily. 'Women all around would give their eye teeth to have breasts like yours, and I can make their breast dreams come true! All I need to do is take some photographs for my clinic, and' –

'You want to photograph my bare breasts? Is that what you're saying?' she whispered in disbelief.

'Yes, exactly! I've got my phone right here' – Bill dug around in his pocket, only to find himself shoved up against the drinks fridge. Hermione stood on tip-toes again, grabbed his shirt lapels and got in his face.

'You listen to me, Doctor Dorchester,' she said with icy calm. 'There is no way on earth that I will let you photograph any part of my body without my consent, and I'm telling you now, it will be a cold day in hell before you get that consent from me. You're a pervert, Doctor. You have proven this to be true by molesting me not one minute ago. You will leave me the hell alone, from now until the day Gabriel blows his trumpet, otherwise I will tell your wife. And the General Medical Council.'

Bill, who feared the GMC far more than he did his wife, raised his hands in surrender. 'I apologise, Hermione,' he stuttered. 'I made an error of judgement. It won't happen again.'

She nodded shortly, and stepped aside to let the pathetic man scuttle away.

Hermione sat back down on the lawn with a rather dazed expression on her face.

'Forgotten something?' asked Draco.

'What?' she said vaguely. Then – 'Oh damn. The ice creams.'

'You okay?' he asked quietly.

'Yeah,' she smiled. 'Can you come with me? It's hard for me to reach them.'

Daisy enviously watched the pair amble off, hand in hand, to the kitchen. She hoped to find a man who would love her the way Draco loved Hermione.

He didn't even need to be half as good-looking.

By the time the ice creams were demolished, Daisy had finally convinced Draco that he couldn't live without a mobile phone. 'We'll have to go shopping tomorrow, love,' he said to Hermione.

She frowned. 'But we're going sight-seeing tomorrow. I've planned it all out. I have a chart.'

Draco smiled to himself. You can take the girl out of the school…

'I'll get it and show you. Maybe we can move some things around.' She hopped up, and disappeared into the house again.

A minute later, Draco felt the sun disappear behind the surrounding houses, and shivered. 'I'm going to grab a sweater,' he told Daisy. Are you warm enough?'

'Yes, Draco,' she said dreamily.

Draco climbed up, and followed Hermione inside.

In her bedroom, Hermione located her chart, but was unpleasantly surprised for the second time today to find, when she turned around, another unwelcome Dorchester blocking her way out the room.

'Noah, I don't have time for this,' she said tiredly. 'Draco's expecting me.'

Noah's face twisted in confusion. 'Who is this Drago, and what's he doing here, anyway?'

She sighed. 'Draco is my boyfriend.'

'Really?' Noah looked even more confused. 'I thought I was.'

'What?' Hermione couldn't believe it. 'Of course we're not!'

'But we made love,' Noah stubbornly insisted. 'In this very room.'

Hermione buried her head in her hands.

Meanwhile, Draco had yet to make it up the stairs, because he was waylaid by the busty Samantha in the utility room.

Well, not quite so much 'waylaid' as 'shoved up against the drinks fridge with one hand on his shirt collar, the other between his legs and her lips firmly clamped to his mouth.'

'Mrs Dorchester,' Draco began calmly, when she paused for breath.

'Call me Samantha,' she purred, letting her fingers do the walking. 'Or mommy.' She winked.

Draco grabbed her lower wrist before her fingers walked off too far. He tried for tact. 'Samantha, you're a beautiful woman, and, if I must be honest, a year ago I would have loved to have taken you to bed, but I'm with Hermione now, very happily so, and there is nothing that will break the bond we have.'

Samantha pouted and thrust her boobs further towards Draco's chest. He winced when her nipples made contact with his ribs. 'I'm a woman of the world, Draco,' she countered, throwing him a sultry look (that in reality made her look like an overly made-up duck). 'You'll tire of her prim and proper ways, I know you will. I can give you adventure, darling, and...' – she thought, but couldn't really come up with any other perks – 'lots of other things, too!'

On a perverse level, Draco was almost enjoying this. Certainly, the fact that this mutton-dressed-as-lamb had the gall to think she could oust Hermione from his heart was fucking hilarious. 'What about your children? How would they feel about you taking a lover your son's age?'

'Pfft. He's going to Europe to faff about vineyards. He won't care.'

There was a pause, before Draco reminded her that she had, in fact, two children.

'I'll send her to boarding school!' she cried. 'Bill can pay for it! We'll never see her except for a few weeks a year!'

Right, thought Draco. Stop the world; I want to get off.

He assumed the Malfoy Look and quelled the silly old bint with it.

'Mrs Dorchester,' he said in his iciest Lucius voice, 'I am flattered by your attention, but I am in a happy, committed and serious relationship with another woman. There can be nothing between us - now, or ever. I must ask you to let go of my crotch and let me leave this room.'

Dumbfounded, Samantha unhooked her fingers from his pants and stepped side. Draco kept up the Look until he eased past her and out of the utility room. Then he sprinted for the stairs.

Still in the utility room, Samantha fanned herself. God, that voice. That look! She hadn't felt this wet in ages. She couldn't wait to get home and ride her vibrator, pretending it was Draco's huge cock that was jack-hammering between her legs.

'No,' said Hermione for what seemed like the hundredth time, 'we didn't 'make love,' despite what you've probably told your friends.'

Noah looked a tad guilty at that.

She snarled silently. 'We made out, you came when you saw my breasts, and I did not come at all. That's not sex. Not by a long shot.'

An ugly sneer crossed Noah's face. 'And I suppose you've given it up to him? To a fella called Draco? What sort of pretentious, poncy name is that, anyway?'

'It's Latin for dragon, and a constellation in the Northern Hemisphere.'

This helpful explanation came from Draco, who was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and looking very annoyed at the foreign object in Hermione's bedroom.

Noah was a fool, but not entirely stupid. There was an icy look on Drago's face that looked like he might be capable of just about anything. Still, he couldn't resist one more go. 'What's he got that I don't?' he whined to Hermione. 'I'm a good catch. Mummy says so.'

'An eight-and-a-half-inch cock and three vineyards in France, for starters,' snapped Hermione. 'Now get out.'

Draco closed the door on the vanquished Noah, and drew Hermione into his arms. 'It's closer to nine inches, you know,' he murmured.

Hermione smiled into his shirt. 'I didn't want to make him suicidal.'

'And the vineyards are technically Father's.'

'Even if you were destitute, I would still love you,' she whispered.

He held her tight.

Later, when the Granger residence had been relieved of Dorchesters, Andrew, Jean, Hermione and Draco sat in the living room, looking shell-shocked and nursing very large brandies.

'I move that we never invite that family for a meal again,' said Jean. 'Except for Daisy. She still seems unaffected by the Dorchester genes. Or whatever her mother has.'

'Seconded,' grunted Andrew.

'Thirded,' sighed Hermione.

Draco didn't know what jeans had to do with the conversation, but he heartily approved of the motion. Even though he wasn't a Granger, they accepted he'd been through enough today to qualify for voting rights. And they didn't even know what Samantha tried on with him. 'Fourthed.'

They all drank to that.

* Peaches and Herb. 'Reunited.' By Dino Fekaris and Freddie Perren. 2 Hot. Polydor, 1979. 7-inch single.

A/N: Sight-seeing in London next for Draco and Hermione! What could possibly happen?