Chapter 4 – Don't Wear Suggestive Clothing

PRESENT: 5 WEEKS AFTER THE NIGHTCLUB

Hermione sat across her oak desk at the round table, fascinated and curiously watching Amanda as she organised the papers in Hermione's filing cabinet. The young woman donned a form-fitting midnight blue office attire, emphasising her hourglass figure. Her skirt was incredibly short, revealing her toned thighs. There were no unsightly imperfections on her exposed flesh, no uneven and irregular angles, nothing that stuck out or overshadowed another element of her body. Hermione was left wondering if this woman was wearing excellent silk stockings or if her skin simply appeared like silk since her legs were smooth and flawless.

When Amanda raised her arm upward to grab the folders on the upper shelf, more flesh on her slender legs showed, leaving a bit to the imagination. Hermione didn't ask as to why she wouldn't just use magic to accomplish her tasks. But maybe using a sorting spell takes expertise and understanding of advanced magic, both of which Amanda still lacked. She'd eventually acquire this knowledge in her third year of training.

Amanda had always been too self-conscious about her physical appearance, Hermione realised, recalling how tidy and fresh Amanda usually appeared at work. Of course, as a legal secretary, she had to be quite presentable because she would be working with and communicating with clients, solicitors, and other office personnel. That was why Hermione almost didn't recognise her secretary when they ran across one other at the nightclub.

Conjuring a ladder to place a carton box on the top of the cabinet, Amanda stretched further upward, her calf muscles tensing and relaxing with each of her movement. Even though Hermione had advised Amanda many times that it would be more convenient if she'd use Levitation spells, Hermione wasn't completely opposed to the view that was presented to her, and hence, she didn't say anything this time.

Hermione brushed the feather of her quill against her lips, her thoughts straying to the night weeks ago, when Amanda had given her that very sensual kiss. Now she imagined what it would have been like if she had just lost control of herself, if she had placed her hands on Amanda's backside to feel its tightness and roundness, to have one hand roam upward her chest to cup a handful of her—

Hermione was startled by a loud rumbling, which snapped her out of her naughty fantasy with her very own secretary. She felt her face flush and prayed she hadn't made herself too obvious. Hermione lowered her head and appeared to be occupied as she shuffled through her papers and pretended to write. Amanda was now scooping up the strewn legal journals and folders from the ground, which Hermione spotted out of the corner of her eye.

She didn't seem to have noticed anything. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, lifting her head.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine. Just the box slipped from my hands. I'm sorry," Amanda said, her cheeks crimson as she re-sorted the papers back in their respective folders, her eyes moving quickly as she read through the various files, completely absorbed in her task. She was mumbling underneath her breath as if berating herself for being clumsy, while nervously tucking loose curls behind her ear.

There was something captivating about this image, watching Amanda on her knees, crawling on the ground as her skirt moved further up her thighs—Hermione couldn't help but gaze at her like some obnoxious dog.

She had, of course, noticed Amanda's appeal on men, and the envious glances of other women in the office, but she, Hermione, remained rather unaffected by that charm. Now—two kisses later, Hermione mused—it was different, and she couldn't tell why. It didn't make any sense.

It was just a kiss. Nothing else. Hermione pondered if this was merely a curiosity about the woman's appearance—because Amanda was a visual feast—or if she now desired physical encounter with another woman's body. All of this started with a spontaneous kiss five weeks ago. Amanda, despite her inebriation on that fatal night, had no memories of the kiss—a true saving grace. However, it exacerbated the situation.

About a week passed since Hermione had asked Amanda to her flat spontaneously to discuss the 'Nightclub Kiss'. Hermione had meticulously prepared the conversation and had just waited for the right opportunity, but it did not go as planned in the end. It backfired on her.

Hermione would not have asked Amanda over if she had known she had a blackout and had no memories of the kiss. Case closed. Life can go on. Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't have known this. And she couldn't resist finding out more.

And then, in Hermione's home, whatever it was—the right atmosphere, Amanda's baby-blue eyes, her inviting lips—the desire to kiss Amanda again was nearly irresistible.

Hermione turned her head away. What in the world was I even thinking?

That isn't a big deal!

'It was just a kiss,' she heard Ginny's voice in her head.

But why was she freaking out?

Because now…

Amanda was the victim, while Hermione was the perpetrator.

If only she hadn't listened to Ginevra Weasley's 'bits of wisdom' when faced with this quandary. Of all people, Ginny! Hermione recalled a discussion she had with her friend somewhere between the 'Nightclub Kiss' and the 'Second Kiss' incident...

"You know, Hermione," Ginny had said, resting a kind hand on Hermione's shoulder, "if it's simply getting-physical-with-another-woman type of stuff, I'd shag you right now to show you. But, alas, it isn't simply that."

"Please, Ginny! We're in public," Hermione muttered, hiding her face behind her hands, "please keep your voice down."

"Why don't you just figure it out and tell her to shut up after?"

"For God's sake, I don't believe I want to get physical with her. All I want to know is why..."

"Why what?"

"Why I felt that way."

Hermione sighed at the memory.

Granted, Ginny was right about Amanda's secret crush on Hermione, and Hermione did enjoy their kiss; with that second Kiss, Hermione had implied that their emotions for each other were... mutual. That was wrong. Hermione's professional superiority over Amanda might land them both in hot water.

Hermione ran her palm over her face, reminding herself that she was clearly not interested in or attracted to other women.

But then she looked over to Amanda: her strawberry-blonde hair combed neatly and gleaming, a rosy blush on her cheeks, her lips formed to a smile as she looked curiously back at Hermione…

"Is everything alright, Miss Granger?" Amanda asked, looking half-amused, half-concerned. "You're making funny faces."

Hermione realised all of a sudden that the object of her recent fantasies had been staring at her…the whole. Frigging. Time. She felt her head heat up in embarrassment, and her quill fell to the ground.

"Huh?" Hermione uttered, very unprofessionally.

"Do you have anything on your mind? For a moment, you seemed thoughtful, as if something was upsetting you," Amanda commented over her shoulder as she labelled a carton box and placed a stack of old papers inside. She continued tilting her head towards Hermione, her smile never faltering.

Hermione regained her composure, took a deep breath, and resumed her professional role. "You should think about wearing something more suited for work. This is a law firm, not the PlayWitch magazine's Agency," she replied authoritatively, returning to work on the framework of a divorce procedure. In an attempt to conceal her hot cheeks, she stooped down to fetch her quill from the floor.

When she seated again, she added, "Have you been able to conduct the research I've asked you to? The report ought to be submitted to me this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am, I still have to put the events in chronological order," Amanda said in a low voice, the smile on her lips disappearing. She transferred the heavy folders in an empty box, not saying anything further.

"This is important," Hermione said, now testing her legal secretary's knowledge, "and do you remember why?"

Amanda held eye contact, stating confidently, "You require to understand the events that will give you the basis of action or the issues that are involved in the case. I know what I'm doing, ma'am."

Hermione nodded contently. Amanda Watson sure was the most competent legal secretary in this firm. She was learning so fast.

Hermione was well aware that Amanda was just unaccustomed to Hermione's reprimands, harsh attitude, or the sudden coldness with which Hermione had treated her in order to avoid unpleasant situations during the past few days. Because, despite the fact that they just had a professional relationship, Hermione wanted Amanda to succeed in her career. There was almost never anything negative to say about her secretary.

Hermione, however, was making Amanda feel horrible by punishing and blaming her for the confusion she was causing in Hermione.

"Argh!" Hermione groaned loudly, unable to focus on her task. When Amanda gave her another puzzled look, Hermione said quickly, "I—uh, have to rewrite this." Though, all that she'd written so far was the date and her client's name.

"I feel so silly, Miss Granger, I always thought you liked my business outfits," Amanda said regretfully, her cheeks rosier now than they had previously been, "wasn't blue your favourite colour, Miss Granger?" she asked, one arm carrying the folders and her free hand pulling her skirt further down as she looked down at herself then back to Hermione.

Hermione looked perplexed, as though they were seriously discussing fashion and her favourite colour right now. "Blue? Yes, I like blue, but..." Hermione swept her eyes up and down Amanda's body—there was a fresh smirk on the younger woman's lips, a cheeky smirk—and it slowly dawned on her why her secretary was dressed in a midnight-blue office outfit.

"Wait a second," Hermione whispered, her cheeks warming up again, "were you just attempting to...impose me?"

Amanda did not respond, but instead diverted her gaze away from Hermione. When she turned back, she nodded, almost confidently, coyly, as if she decided something, "You seemed to be enjoying the view just a moment before, weren't you? You remember when you were staring at me?"

Hermione let out a forced chuckle that bordered on a wail, her cheeks burning like it was on fire. Hermione's legs gave way as a result of Amanda's gaze, and she was relieved to be seated. "I—I was, wait, you misunderstood me! I was only —"

"So cute if you blush," Amanda mumbled under her breath but it was loud enough for Hermione to hear. She looked briefly around, resuming her secretarial role again. "I was only teasing you, ma'am, relax. Is there anything else I can do for you, then? I think I'm done here now."

Hermione shook her head quickly, seeming to have lost her voice.

When Amanda left the room, Hermione leaned back in her seat and exhaled until she felt dizzy. She was screwed! So damn screwed!

Because Amanda was aware now of the effect she had on Hermione.

*,*,*

Sometime after lunch and another tedious and grueling litigation, Hermione slammed her office door shut, and slumped down on her leather chair. A few minutes later even before she could take a deep breath, a knock emanated from the door.

"I think 'Congratulations' is in order," remarked the man in greeting, strolling in as if he owned the place.

"Sir, excuse me, but you don't have an appointment," Amanda said from behind him.

Hermione raised her head to see Blaise Zabini's smiling face as he sat in the smaller leather chair in front of her desk. He smirked as he observed Amanda standing in the doorway.

"It's alright, he may remain," Hermione said, her gaze fixed on Zabini. "I might be able to spare a few minutes."

"Okay, ma'am," Amanda said. "Is there anything I can bring you, sir? Maybe a drink?"

"No, thank you, dear," Zabini responded with a wink.

Zabini turned around as Amanda shut the door behind her and remarked, "Well, Granger, congratulations on your newest triumph! Hermione Jean Granger, the infallible divorce lawyer. You should feel pleased with yourselves."

He was alluding to the Williams case, in which Hermione had obtained a highly favourable financial settlement for her client despite the matter's intricacy. Even Hermione had to confess that she was taken aback by the outcome. She was also astounded by how her client's now ex-husband didn't seem bothered by the fact that he had lost a lot of money, and how he hadn't even fought for custody of their only child. Actually, he sounded almost relieved.

"To what do I owe the honour of this visit, Zabini?" Hermione said, genuinely surprised, massaging her temples. And hurry up, I have a meeting to prepare for."

"My, my," Zabini sighed, "can an old pal of yours not visit you for private reasons?"

"An old pal? Is it possible that you mistook the office building?" Hermione scoffed; her brow furrowed. "By the way, I've been trying to Floo you but your floo network has been unreachable for weeks for some reason," she explained, "and now when I don't have the time or patience to attend you, you want me to have this chat with you?"

"You haven't lost your charm, eh?" he asked, clearly amused. He loosened the knot on his grey tie and fanned his face with the case folder he was holding. "I haven't gone to the office in a while. Unless you schedule a meeting with my secretary, in which case I'd have been present. By the way," Zabini added, nodding towards the entrance, "is that her? The 'rumoured beauty'? I'd be more inspired to come to work often if a lovely lady like her worked for me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration, "Zabini, for starters, grow up! You're not seventeen anymore. Secondly, you're married. And thirdly, what the heck do you want?"

"Believe it or not, but I'm here to seek Your Highness for assistance," Zabini replied, rolling his eyes like Hermione. He leaned back in his chair coolly, then tossed the case folder onto Hermione's desk.

When Hermione took a glance at it, the image on the first page instantly made her blood freeze. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yup, him again," Zabini observed, scratching his goatee thoughtfully. "I know you handled his spouse's case the first time, but this time she did not agree to the divorce claims, therefore the divorce is contested. Since then, the petition has not been renewed. He's now filing for a new one, so he came to me with legitimate grounds."

"I see, and now you're seeking expert guidance from me," Hermione ventured, smiling sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous," Zabini grumbled. He rose up and began pacing up and down the room, his face solemn. "Unfortunately, as his best mate, I know his real motive for doing this." He gave Hermione a quick glance before adding, "And as his lawyer, I'm committed to professional secrecy, as you may be aware."

"Of course," Hermione drawled, fighting the urge to roll her eyes once more. "Go ahead."

"Astoria, his wife, she's a good-damn person, a good soul, and I've known her since we were children," Zabini said; he seemed exhausted all of a sudden, Hermione thought. "She's the finest thing that ever happened to him. Draco is an arse, as we both know, but he can also be a nice guy if he so chooses. Please keep in mind that I'm speaking as a concerned friend of both of them, not as his solicitor. But, as his solicitor, I can't refuse him. As his friend, I'd want to."

"Come to the point, Zabini," Hermione remarked impatiently.

"Are you in a relationship right now?" he asked, out of the blue.

"What? That's none of your goddamn business," Hermione snapped indignantly, "Honestly, you're wasting my time, and I have to go."

"No, wait, please. It's relevant in this situation, Granger," Zabini said, almost beseeching, "Look, he will get in touch with you. I know he will because he's doing this… oh blimey! How do I put this?"

"Will you please just get to the point," Hermione said, looking at her wristwatch to signify that he was wasting her precious time.

"You have to turn him down," he finally said.

"Turn… him down?" Hermione repeated, dumbfounded, "All right, what on Earth are you talking about?"

"Granger," Zabini groaned, taking two long strides back to Hermione's desk, his hands flat on her table, "I'm jeopardizing my career here simply to preserve that moron's marriage, and I'm making a fool of myself by coming here and asking you of all people for a favour." Then, in a low, strained whisper, he said, "He wants you so much that he's willing to forsake his pregnant wife for you. He's desired you since you shagged each other senselessly in Hogwarts. Don't give me that look; I'm well aware of that too. And he'll come back to you. You must decline him and make it apparent that he does not stand a chance with you. Granger, are you capable of doing so? Can you?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. Of all things, this wasn't what she had expected to hear.

"Look, he's a jerk who won't give up once he sets his mind to something. I'm not sure whether he's simply looking for good sex!" He chuckled maniacally, looking at Hermione as if he wanted to figure it out for himself. Then he shuddered and made a funny expression.

"Arse-face!" Hermione muttered.

Having known Blaise Zabini for so long and on a professional level, Hermione had never seen him stoop so low as to beg Hermione Granger, the very person he used to ridicule as a teenager before. She'd never seen him beg before. Period. And he was doing it for his two best friends, Draco, and Astoria.

"Tell him you're married or something," Zabini advised desperately, "or...or that you have a partner." Wait, that won't stop him since, after all, he's an expert at taking a man's girlfriend." For a little moment, he appeared contemplative, delicately scratching his neck. "Granger, I'm tired; I've reached my breaking point. How could I possibly face Astoria again? Consider her unborn child!"

After gathering her thoughts, Hermione managed to speak at last, still perplexed by the sudden turn of events "What gives you the impression that I'd cave to him? Are you certain that's what he wants? Me? That is absurd. Ridiculous! And I can't image him abandoning his pregnant wife. He may be a spoilt brat and a jerk, but he's not that type of a jerk."

"He's unaware of the pregnancy," Zabini remarked, falling onto the chair behind him. "I only found out a week ago when I met with her to discuss the divorce petition. She refuses to inform him about the pregnancy. If he ever changes his mind, she believes it should not be for the sake of their child. She doesn't want to trap him in an unhappy marriage only to fulfil his commitments. Of course, he'd remain for that reason, but having a child involved in this mess would worsen the situation, which she doesn't want."

"If he doesn't love her—" Hermione began but was cut off by Zabini.

"He still does, as he stated. I'm not sure why he has to destroy everything that is already wonderful all the time," Zabini expressed his confusion by shaking his head. "He's changed a lot since he lost his mother, while his father is still imprisoned in Azkaban."

"I heard about that," Hermione said, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay, let me see what I can come up with. Just so you know, I wouldn't have caved in to him anyway," she said once more, "After all, he is a married man. And the greatest jerk I've ever met."

"Oh, yeah? Then kindly educate me, how in Merlin's name did he manage to bed the insufferable know-it-all Hermione Granger back in Hogwarts?" sneered Zabini.

Hermione shut her eyes as a flood of regret and shame washed over her. Her only answer was an uneasy chuckle. "All right, I got it!" she said. Why would she acknowledge to being in love with Draco back then? It would just complicate matters.

A knock at the door and Amanda came in, carrying a folder in her hand. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but here's the legal report you requested earlier."

As she leaned against the desk to present it in front of Hermione, she brushed Hermione's hand. The room was quiet as Hermione skimmed over the report, ignoring the sweet scent of perfume in the air.

"It looks fine," Hermione commented. "You might want to go over this part, though. Have you verified the client's data?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Amanda, beaming, eyes soft as she looked at Hermione.

"Well done, then."

Amanda took back the folder from Hermione. "Oh," she said, spotting something at Hermione's head as she reached a hand forward. Hermione inwardly tensed up when she felt the brush of Amanda's hand lightly against her hair, "You have something in your hair, Miss Granger, hold still. There, was just lint." Then she smiled and left the office quickly.

Hermione glanced back at Zabini, who was resting in his chair with a smug smile upon his face. She saw the same expression that she had seen on Ginny's face before—that knowing look. His smile stretching wider when Hermione felt her cheeks blush.

Hermione, on the other hand, decided to misinterpret his expression and scowled. "Do I have to remind you, Zabini, that you're married? Besides, you might not be her type anyway," she said, jeering.

Zabini began to smile all over his face, his white teeth gleaming against his dark complexion, much to Hermione's amazement.

"But you seem to be her type, Granger," he enunciated, leaning closer, "and you said you'd help me with the Malfoy case, right? I believe I've just had an idea."

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read this. By the way, I conducted a lot of research on the jobs and obligations of divorce attorneys and legal secretaries. It's not ideal, but it's good enough for this story. Please review/comment if you like it so far. :)