(A.N: Okay, I'm not sure if this will work. I upoladed this chapter once, and all that came out was some weird computer language.

Also, please R&R! I like to know what's good, and what's bad... I'm 'for the people by the people.' *Is random and doesn't make sense, as well..* O_O)

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the owners, publishers, and JKR. None to me. *Dramatic sigh*

Chapter Four-

'Well, then, we've got a lot of catching up to do, don't we?'

Hermione gawked at Draco's steel grey eyes, observing that they hadn't lost their sharp ability to break one's gaze. Her mouth opened to say something, but the two were interrupted by Viktor.

"Hermione," he approached, eyeing Draco cautiously. Draco noted the fact that he'd finally understood the concept of pronouncing her name correctly, and found it rather hard to stifle a laugh. The unsuccessful result ended in a hoarse cough. "Hermione, it's time to set Lancome on the train."

Draco snapped into his senses, and allowed his hand to drop. "Right. I've got to see my own daughter off. Hermione, I'll catch you later on, alright?" He winked subtly, scurriying off towards his daughter. Leaving Hermione flustered and dazed. Draco'd just hit on her, had he not? A married, father of at least one child, hit on Hermione; who in turn seemed to have a family of her own?

***

Slender fingers on a sturdy hand waved out the window of the train excitedly as it pulled away from the station. Both Bailey and Lacola were anxious to be on their way, out of the watchful eyes of their hawk-like parents. Bailey finally pulled her hand out of the window, and flopped down on one of the cushioned seats. She followed Lacola's active gaze perspectively.

"Who're you looking for, you little whore?" Bailey snickered, as Lacola's gaze flickered at her for a moment.

"Who do you think?" she rolled her eyes, shifting and craning her neck to see around the rows of seats. She stopped momentarily, huffing. "And I'm not a whore." Bailey widened her eyes, as though this was news to her.

"I doubt he's even around," Bailey continued, wringing her hands pointlessly. Lacola gave her a 'Shut-up-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you' kind of look, before settling down in her chair. She pressed her back to the backrest in frustration.

"He's *got* to be around," she whined, k'fetching to Bailey; as though she could do much about it. "I mean, he's coming to Hogwarts, no doubt, right?" Bailey blinked. "Right," 'Cola answered her own question.

Lacola's sudden gasp caught in her throat, and her eyes widened to match Bailey's as the boy stepped into their solitary compartment. Shaking an odd expression off of her face, Lacola smoothed out the top of her skirt gently and awaited arrival of her sweet, sweet prince.

"Er..." a set of baffled eyes darted silently to the two girls seated, who had suddenly gone quiet and were staring directly at them. Lancome quirked a bushy brow at them, setting Bailey off into a fit of uncontrollable snickers. Lacola kicked her hard, ceasing them abruptly. "...Hi?" he stated it as a question, clearing his throat and seating himself towards the corner of the boxcar.

Lacola flipped her hair seductively, Bailey mimicking the option to the point of major exagguration. "Hey."

Bailey cleared her throat, a smug expression toying on her visage; as if to say 'that's all you can manage?' She decided to make this a bit easier on her friend's part. "Come sit over here, why're you secluding yourself? We don't bite..."

Lancome ran a hand over the back of his neck nervously, staggering onto his feet and inching closer; at a very slow, unsteady race. He took a seat next to Bailey, facing Lacola. A cough emerged from his larynx. "Erghm...Lancome." He jutted his hand outward towards 'Cola, one eyebrow still raised.

"I'm Lacola." She attempted to flash a weak smile. "Malfoy," she added, for flavour. Lancome turned to Bailey.

"Bailey Weasley," she shrugged.

Lancome noted the simple introduction, nodding. "Nice to meet you both," he replied, politely. Both girls nodded in agreement.

"Pleasure."

***

"What're you doing?!" Ron scolded Draco, eyeing him nervously as they headed away from the travelling train. "You're completely wrong and headed for a shitload of trouble..."

Draco shrugged him off, holding himself proudly as he continued past Ron once more and headed towards a stranded, solomn Hermione. "What's it to you, Weasley?" Draco had seemed to catch a tad bit of his old personality, though Ron knew not to take it personally by now. "It's not like I'm screwing her..." His famous school smirk came into view. A long pause followed the statement, and Ron almost let out a sigh of relief. Draco cut him off. "...Yet..."

He left Ron once more and ventured towards Hermione. She almost seemed confused to see him, but Draco sensed she wanted him to come over. You know, that whole 'I-was-born-a-Malfoy-so-I-can-read-people' shindig...

"So, Viktor," he began with, the tone cooing into her ear. "When, if you don't mind me asking?"

Hermione snorted girlishly. "Take a guess," she retorted, playing it almost as though she could care less for him. Which, in fact, she could. But damn, was he wearing her down...

But Draco didn't want to play Hermione's little mind games. "Hm, most likely before your son was born... What'd you say his name was?"

"I didn't," she replied honestly, cocking her head to the side momentarily. "But his name is Lancome."

"Very interesting," he lied.

"Mhmmm," she clicked her tongue, allowing her eyes to fall on others and avoid Draco's seductive gaze. She couldn't, however, for long...

"Hermione, I'm going to be strait out with you. I miss your company." Draco blinked. "Well, not that I ever *had* your company, but I would love to meet up with you one day. For old time's sake."

Hermione rolled her eyes, before falling into his gaze, sensing the sincerity. The honesty, the way he's changed... "I...I'd like that as well, Draco."

The devil inside Draco did a slight victory dance. Maybe he hadn't changed as much as he thought he had. He slipped a hand inside his pocket. "Perfect," he purred, allowing the word to roll off his tongue. "I'll give you a call, say, tomorrow?"

"Alright."

Draco nodded, turning away with an expression like no other atop his face. But Hermione was calling his . He put all his weight into spinning around once more, swiping the sneer rapidly off his face.

"Draco... You need my number."

He blinked, dumbfoundedly. "Of course. Let's have it, then."

Hermione let out a small giggle, and began to scribble her number down on a scrap paper. "Talk to you tomorrow, Draco." She walked away, towards Viktor, who was wearing a jealous expression. Ron rushed over almost immediately, cutting Draco off in his path.

"Wha's that? Wha's that she gave to you?" he asked excitedly, though trying to make in unnoticable. "Did she give you her number?"

Draco shoved the little piece into the pocket of his pants, giving a mysterious shrug and returning to his wife and Katie.