Well thank you all as ever for lovely reviews, it's nice to be back writing again, and so good to have so many of my regular readers along for the ride.

Someone in a review told me not to rush the story, and its funny because it was already what I was thinking. So you might find updates a little less frequent than before, but hopefully you all know me well enough to know they are coming and I won't leave you in the lurch :-) . So that said, Chapter two, for anyone interested the title of this chapter comes from From Russia With Love, you might spot the other references, which are fun for me to drop in, but that's just me being a nerd! Apologies for any errors as always, whatever they maybe and sit back and enjoy a cocktail with Miss Granger...

The Firefly Country Club, Hotel and Spa boasted three elegant well stocked bars, according to its glossy advertising brochure. Laxos, and the Libro and Ludos Bars. Hermione wasn't really too fussed where she got her Kir Royale as long as the champagne was perfectly chilled and there was a nice comfy chair for her to relax and enjoy it in, she was however drawn to the Libro…somethings never changed.

Just like Tiffy, the house elf tending the bar was wearing a surprisingly clean, almost smart tea towel like garment. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how this this could be, presenting house elves with clothing freed them, either they must really like working here or perhaps there was another more sinister explanation. Hermione's keen mind and Unspeakables training went into overdrive as the small creature flicked its long bony fingers and her sparkling drink manifested itself on a small circular paper mat, with the gold F embossed in the centre. She fingered the scalloped edge still pondering the thought.

There were plenty of chairs and sofas that one could sink and relax into, scattered about the Libro bar, but Hermione had to admit the so-called bar stools were ridiculously comfortable. They were almost full Chesterfield chairs just taller, so you could sit with ease and no loss of comfort at the highly polished long wooden counter. Their rich oxblood leather upholstery and deep curved arms complete with brass nail heads was thick and soft, the adjustable footrest ensured that patrons of any height would be comfortable. Always vigilant, or perhaps in tonight's case nosy, for Hermione Granger the best feature about the elegant stools was the fact they swivelled a full 180 degrees, allowing her to take in not only that well-advertised fully stocked bar, but also the vast array of beautiful books and of course the other guests who were also partaking in a pre-dinner drink.

She raised the tall very thin glass to her lips, her Vela red painted nails glinting against the brittle crystal.

"Oh that's bloody good."

Hermione muttered quietly to herself, replacing the glass onto the tiny frill edged mat. Noticing her lipstick had left an almost perfect imprint on the narrow rim, she instinctively licked her lips, tasting the champagne and cassis against the makeup.

Having felt so relaxed after her afternoon in the spa, the young witch hadn't been of a mind to go down to any one of several eating options the plush hotel also boasted, room service and her pyjamas seemed a much better option. The idea of dressing up for dinner, let alone apply make-up of any kind, filled her with horror, but something had inexplicably changed her mind. She'd glanced cynically at the bright red nail polish, shaking her head.

"Ridiculous" She'd muttered before duly getting herself dressed and applying those seldom worn cosmetics, which included an extra brush of mascara, not to mention a lip gloss which was almost as vividly red as her sparkling nails.

She now found herself looking a lot more glamorous than usual in her down time, sitting in an extraordinarily fancy hotel, sipping an expensive cocktail.

"What the hell!" She thought, she'd been ordered to relax and enjoy herself. She didn't normally take advantage of the Ministry, but if they wanted to send her away for a long weekend at their expense, to "recharge her wand", then who was she to argue with Ralph Messervy. She took another long savouring sip of her Kir Royale, swivelling her stool to take in her surroundings and the other patrons once more.

Pulling her attention away from the extensive library of books around and above her, she would definitely take a look at those in more detail before the weekend was over, her attention fell upon two people just across the room playing wizard chess. They were seated in two green leather, wing back chairs in a small alcove by the French doors overlooking the gardens. Hermione could see one of the men clearly, he was facing her, his long fingers were steepled at his chin, his spectacles rested on the end of a sharp nose and his deep-set eyes were dark with concentration. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, Hermione saw one of the tiny carved figures get up and move, withdrawing its sword and promptly decapitating the opposing piece. She couldn't see the other man, well not all of him. A ringed hand and dark sleeved limb, rested on the arm of the chair, what appeared to be rather long legs were crossed ankle to knee, they were equally darkly clothed, and finished with a well-polished black boot. The rest of him was somewhat annoyingly obscured by the high back and wings of the chair in which he sat. The jewelled hand lifted and picked up a heavy crystal tumbler, containing what looked like a hefty measure of Firewhiskey, the bar was relatively hushed, and Hermione was just close enough to hear the ice in the glass chink as he lifted it. Hoping perhaps he would move forward just enough to slake her curiosity, he didn't, simply taking the glass to his lips before replacing it on another of those scalloped edged embossed mats.

Hermione shifted a tad in her own chair, leaning forward a little more than was necessary to once again pick up her own glass, still the other man remained hidden from her line of vision. It really wasn't that important, inquisitiveness just went with her job. She drained the remainder of her cocktail, it really was good, and had gone down very well and rather too quickly. Again a "what the hell" raced across her mind, this one came with the justification that she didn't have to get up for work in the morning so she would definitely obey the last order Ralph Messervy had given her and enjoy a drink or two…

"Another please." She said to the questionably smart house elf. Her curiosity once more kicking in.

"Hmm perhaps I'll ask Tiffy." Hermione mumbled to herself, she had after all said if there was anything Hermione wanted or needed.

"Did you need something else?"

The bar-tending elf had obviously heard Hermione's muttering and thought she required something more.

"Oh no sorry, I just thinking aloud." She apologised, smiling at the small creature who put another inviting cocktail on a new scalloped edged, embossed mat.

Hermione took another sip, certain the second wouldn't be as good as the first, she was right and wrong at the same time, it was even better. The cold bubbling champagne mixing perfectly with the dark purple sweetness of the blackcurrant, she almost sighed aloud, but was mindful of the keen eared house elf. She simply savoured it inwardly, swivelling on her Chesterfield stool once more.

"Queen to king four…"

The low instruction drifted to Hermione's equally keen ear, her lips stilling against the rim of the tall glass, the liquid inside fizzing against them. Her brown eyes swept slowly across the room, back in the direction of the two men playing wizard chess. The small queen had risen elegantly from her black square and was moving with equal elegance and slow determination to the new white one where she came to rest. The young witch watched intently, the tall slender glass still only millimetres from her shiny red lips. The man she could see, raised his dark deep-set eyes from the chequered board, looking squarely at his concealed opponent. This time his arm rose to move a piece, pushing over his bishop in defeat and nodding his head in acknowledgement of being beaten. The hand of his obscured opponent once again came forward to the heavy glass tumbler containing his Firewhiskey, this time he lifted the small white scalloped edged mat too, leaning forward ever so slightly to dab his mouth with it. The movement revealed only a small amount more of him, Hermione had thought surely it can't have been when she'd heard the four brief, curt words, but as a mane of blonde hair fell in front of the wing of the chair, her thoughts were … oh yes it could be, and it was. Lucius Malfoy had indeed expertly check mated his opponent.

She finally took the swig of the cocktail which had been resting against her lips, almost suspended in time. Her eyes remaining fixed on the still partially obscured figure, she sat back in her own chair, Hermione had for some reason been keen to see who the other man playing wizard chess was, now with the revelation, she wasn't so keen herself on being seen. But just like with the burning question of the house elves attire, the Unspeakable training in the young witch, not to mention her naturally insatiable inquisitiveness got the better of her, leaving a plethora of questions racing around in her head.

"What was Draco Malfoy's father doing here? What was he up to?"

Reality, not to mention her own eyes, pointed out he was simply having a drink with a friend, playing chess, and like her probably just relaxing. Past history and perhaps an overactive mind told her, probably plotting and planning something and decidedly up to no good. Taking another sip of her cool drink, Hermione reminded herself that she wasn't working, she wasn't on any kind of assignment, she was here merely to relax, recharge her wand and enjoy a drink or two.

As Lucius Malfoy rose elegantly from the chair and shook hands with the man with whom he'd been playing, Hermione quickly swivelled her chair around, facing back towards the bar. The noise level in the bar had risen considerably and she couldn't hear any of their conversation, twiddling her tall glass around by its slender the stem, she surreptitiously watched the former death eater and his companion chatting in the mirrored glass tiles behind the rows of wizard and muggle drinks which graced the shelves. As an Unspeakable, Hermione's job had taught her, not to assume that everything had ominous undertones, however it, along with her parents had also taught her there was no smoke without fire, and the Lucius Malfoy the young Hermione Granger had once know had been responsible for an awful lot a fire, it was difficult not to judge or hold the past against him. Despite her better judgement, her brain was already convinced that the innocent game of chess was in fact a plot for world domination, or at the very least a takeover of the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione reigned in her rampaging thoughts, once he left, she mused, she could forget all about what Lucius Malfoy was or wasn't up to and return to her relaxing weekend, and right now more importantly her delicious cocktail. Glancing from the once again nearly empty flute, to the mirrored tiles, she was horrified to see that instead of leaving with his friend, Draco's father was in fact heading towards the bar…towards her.

"Miss Granger…"

Urgh the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck shot up, always expecting his slow, haughty and derisive elocution of her name to be followed by … "Draco's told me all about you" …

Her fingers remained lightly touching the base of the glass, as she swivelled her chair in his direction, her brown eyes coming up slowly to meet his piercing pale grey.

"Mister Malfoy… fancy seeing you here."

Various greetings jostled their way to Hermione's brightly glossed lips, she opted for perhaps the safest and less antagonistic option, holding his gaze firmly.

"My regular Wednesday game with Adams." He said dismissively, his voice having lost none of its aristocratic disdain.

"A decisive victory too, if I'm not mistaken." Hermione said, still holding his penetrating gaze.

"What sharp little eyes you have Miss Granger."

She didn't miss his sharp patronising tone but resisted the retort which instantly sprang to mind. From the look in those cold pale grey eyes, suggesting Lucius Malfoy wait till he get to her teeth might not have been a smart move even for the feisty young witch.

"Very little escapes me, when I put a mind to it Mister Malfoy." She responded pointedly.

"I'm not a very good player myself, but your game did catch my eye."

He nodded his blonde head, his nostrils flaring at her words. The tiniest hint of a smile or quite possibly a smirk curved his thin lips.

"Whilst I am certain that very little escapes the brightest witch of her age and Ministry of Magic's shining light, I sincerely doubt that there is anything that you are not very good at."

There was almost a compliment in his words, all be it a very backhanded one, Hermione didn't respond, noticing him glance irritably about the bar, quite possibly looking for the absentee house elf who had been tending the bar. Hermione pitied the elf when it returned.

Those piercing pale grey eyes flashed appraisingly over her, before returning once more to her own warm brown, a hint of blue flickering in their depths, continuing to hold his gaze, she slowly picked up her glass, finishing the small amount of liquid sitting in the bottom.

"Have a drink with me."

It was more of a command than a request, Hermione smiled politely, about to slip from the tall Chesterfield stool and decline. Before she had the chance, her glass refilled, a heavy glass tumbler floated down from one of the shelves, three large cubes of tinkling ice appeared and where promptly covered with a generous serving of Firewhiskey.

This time a much darker brown collided with the palest blue grey, and Hermione pushed herself back into her seat, she'd endured worse company in her job than Lucius Malfoy, the sparkling drink, certainly made his presence more tolerable, and despite everything, she had a feeling he might make interesting company. A few minutes of verbal sparring would certainly liven up her evening, perhaps she might even learn more about his plan for world domination. She bit back the little smile which tugged at her mouth.

"Hmm what will the hotel Manager have to say about guests helping themselves?"

Hermione said, her fingers caressing the chilled stem of the fluted glass.

Those cold pale grey blue eyes actually twinkled, as Lucius Malfoy's own long fingers curled around the heavy tumbler, the ice chinking even louder as he raised it firstly to Hermione and then to his mouth. Hermione's eyes involuntarily drawn to each deliberate movement.

"Oh nothing Miss Granger, I own the hotel."