Draco had spent that afternoon in the Manor library, studying some of the artefacts he had found in Grimmauld Place, using work to distract him from the self-hate and heartbreak he felt consuming him inside.

Lunch had been taken there for him, and the only other being he saw was Jules; at half past three the elf had shown up to tell him his mother had declared it was time to get ready for the Tea Party.

Now, as he sat in the Tea Room, making small talk with each of the twelve witches and their mothers who had attended that day, Her voice echoed in his head every time they giggled and blushed at him for apparently no reason: "The women that go to those things are all dim-witted puppets that will agree to every stupid word you say just because you're rich."

Draco looked across the small table at the girl sitting there, Miss Donovan (or was is Donahue? Daugherty?) was telling him a (long and dull) story about how her pet niffler (named Nosy of all things) liked to dig holes in the backyard and had recently collected gold teeth her mother believed to be from her ancestors.

He schooled his grimace into an amused smile and finished his second cup of tea of that evening, excusing himself and moving around the room again, politely smiling at the women that were looking his way.

"Be it by your looks, your title, or your vaults, they all want you." Granger's scornful voice repeated in his mind.

Well, he should be thankful they all wanted him now; four years ago, being associated to the Malfoy name was not something anyone would wish for.

Only after his father's trial and subsequent death in Azkaban, and Draco's promising career at the Ministry – added to Narcissa's constant presence at fundraisers and charity events, they were able to restore the Malfoy name under a new, improved, light.

Speaking of his mother, Draco made sure to send Narcissa hard stares every fifteen minutes or so – only to make it clear for her how much he hated being there – not that he hoped she'd pity him and call her demand off.

An older woman stopped him and basically dragged him to her table, where he sat and listened to her daughter's story about a trip she'd taken to Brazil.

"They have such beautiful sandy beaches." she said. "And food is served to you right on the shore! They eat corn and seafood by the sea and drink a lot of beer – muggle beer – which I fail to comprehend why, for it's an awfully bitter concoction."

Draco let his mind wander as she went on, telling him how she thought that going to Brazil would be the perfect honeymoon trip.

Is she hinting about wanting to have sex on the beach? He thought with a frown. Disgusting.

Miss Ackhurst, the lady speaking, was just as beautiful as the other women there, he had to admit; and they had all been raised to be perfect little Ladies, not an ounce of academic interest in their slender bodies, more inclined to be spending their Saturdays at social gatherings than reading a book in the library or discussing spell-casting techniques and runic alphabets.

Why couldn't you be materialistic and impressionable like them, Granger? You'd just bat your eyes at me and I'd sweep you off your feet and marry you and be fucking happy, and make you feel like the most loved and cherished woman in the world.

No – as fast as the thought appeared, he dismissed it, for he knew that he wouldn't love Her as much if She weren't her insufferably opinionated and swotty self.

The real problem was one he had always been aware of: Granger was not only too good for him, but also knew him too well; there was hardly anything swoon-worthy about him besides his looks and deep pockets. And She knew that; she as aware he could be a rude bastard – she'd met his past prejudiced self, had watched him at his worst (during and after the war); Draco had no need for secrets near her – he could be his own self and she'd shout at him for being a spoiled little shit – and no diamonds and fancy trips would be able to buy her affections.

Meanwhile, after marrying one of those women, Draco would have to act like a perfect Lord daily, lavishing his Lady wife with gifts for no other purpose than appearances, making sure to keep his true self well-repressed and probably only having vanilla sex for reproduction. Not to mention he'd have to watch Granger marry some other man and have his babies.

Fuck.

He'd rather die.

I wonder if I can find any object in Grimmauld Place that carries a curse strong enough to grant me a more merciful end than that un-dead existence.

"Excuse me, Miss Ackhurst," Draco said as it seemed the woman wouldn't stop talking any time soon. "I must go have a word with my mother." and he walked towards Narcissa's table.

He sat beside her and she merely glanced at him, seeming strangely focused on the door.

"Enjoying the first-seat view of my torturing, mother?" he asked.

"Enormously so, son." Narcissa smiled before taking a sip of her tea, looking chipper than usual.

"So tell me, if I were to choose Miss Donovan, how fast do you think her pet niffler could wreak havoc in the rose gardens?"

Narcissa frowned at him momentarily, quickly realising he was trying to get a rise from her: "I don't know, Draco, but I hear nifflers make a great stew."

He tried to keep an annoyed face on but failed – he loved her sense of humour.

"And it's Miss Daugherty." Narcissa added, looking again to the door and smiling as she saw Jules, her house-elf, appear and walk towards her.

Draco had never attempted to understand his mother's silent communication with the elves; he grew up watching her have long conversations with them across a packed ballroom. He was pretty sure Narcissa and her elves could've taken Voldemort down if Potter had failed.

He reached into his coat and retrieved a flask, discreetly unstoppering it to take a sip when the whole thing vanished from his hands.

"Don't even think about it!" Narcissa hissed. "I won't have you talking to these Ladies with firewhisky breath!"

"I'd rather not talk to these ladies at all." He growled between gritted teeth.

"Stop acting like you are ten, Draco." She narrowed her eyes at him warningly and he noticed Jules was at her side, touching her arm discretely. "Now, go talk to Miss McLaggen." She ordered, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Sure, mother," he replied with a smile but his tone made his displeasure clear. "because all I want is to have old mate Cormac as my children's Uncle."

But Narcissa had stood up and was already leaving the Tea Room for some reason.

Draco got up as well and looked around the room, finding himself walking towards a dark-haired witch – Miss Alderton (half-blood) – who he recalled hadn't joined the obnoxious small talk so far, choosing to be discreet instead, and that was a positive in his book.

"Hello again, Miss Alderton." He greeted charmingly as he stopped by her table. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, please, Lord Malfoy." The young woman blushed and he sat beside her.

"How are you enjoying the tea?" Draco asked politely.

"This is all perfect. Your mother has impeccable taste."

"Yes, she does." He glanced back at Narcissa's table, trying to see if she was back, but she didn't seem to have returned from her little excursion with Jules yet.

"I recognize the blend she chose for this evening." Continued Miss Alderton. "Apples, cranberries and blood-orange. Just perfectly balanced by fresh mint leaves."

"Impressive. You do know your tea, Miss Alderton." he commented, not sure what one said after that, glancing at her mother across the table with a smile.

"I attended the Palais des Thés," the young woman continued, "I went there right after finishing Beauxbatons."

Well, at least this one knows how to open a book and seems to be interested in something other than weird pets and sex on the beach in foreign countries.

"Mother will be pleased to hear an expert has approved of her choice," he looked at Narcissa's still empty table. "I don't know where she went, but afterwards-"

"Oh look, there she is!" exclaimed Miss Alderton, motioning with her head (since pointing was not becoming of a Lady) somewhere behind him.

"We can join her once she reaches her table, if you like." He said, not turning to look at his mother, choosing to take a cup of tea and sip it.

"I'd be delighted, Lord Malfoy, but it seems Lady Malfoy went to fetch someone." Miss Alderton continued narrating everything that was happening behind him. "And the woman is- oh, my God! Her dress is absolutely indecent!"

"Really?" Draco asked, pretending interest.

So much for having given her points for lack of small talk.

"Wait." Miss Alderton's mother gasped. "Is that... Hermione Granger?"

Draco's breath hitched so suddenly that a piece of the mini treacle tart he had been chewing on nearly choked him.

"Where?" he coughed.

"Over there, talking to your mother, in that indecently tight dress." Mrs. Alderton shook her head disapprovingly.

He looked towards his mother and his heart nearly stopped when he saw Her.

Granger is here!

And She looked beautiful in a dark red velvet dress that was far from indecent; knee length, half-sleeved, it was simple and tasteful – and it hugged her curves beautifully.

The party blurred around Draco, She became the only thing he could see; his eyes travelled up and down her body, drinking from her image as if he had been wandering the Forbidden Forest for the past four days with no food or water and She was a most desired feast.

"A woman" continued Mrs. Alderton. "shouldn't flaunt her figure like that. Especially, when there's so much of it."

Draco frowned, knowing she was insulting Granger's curves.

"As a man," he replied, "I can only say that I appreciate her figure just as much as any other woman's."

"You're too nice, Lord Malfoy." laughed Miss Alderton. "She could do with a couple of stones less."

He glared at both women and coolly excused himself, his eyes fixed on Her as he crossed the room; but on his way to Her, he was stopped by chattering females.

"You must come talk to my Isla next, Lord Malfoy." said a woman, probably the girl's mother.

"Of course," He nodded, trying to extricate himself from having to do that right then. "But now I have to talk to my mother. Excuse me."

But when Draco finally reached the place where Granger had been speaking to Narcissa, he found only his mother standing there.

He quickly looked around, his heart nearly stopping as fear consumed him – what if she had left before he could've talked to her?

"She's over there." Said Narcissa with a chuckle.

He paused before running towards the table he now saw Granger had sat at.

"Mother," he said slowly, looking at Narcissa, "did you know she was coming here?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No. I only learned of her decision this morning." she walked to her own table and he followed her for she continued: "I wrote to her on Wednesday, but she didn't reply until today." She stopped before sitting down, taking a step closer to him and discreetly putting a small jewellery box in his pocket. "It's the stargaze ring." She whispered to him, "Talk to her, Draco. I absolutely adore Hermione. I want her as the mother of my grandchildren."

"You and me both, mum." He replied with a worried sigh. "How angry is she?"

"Talk to her." repeated Narcissa with a smile. "You begged Harry to tell her about today, she is here now."

"I didn't beg Pot-" he made a face.

But one hard stare from Narcissa had him falling silent and going towards Granger – his path being blocked, once more, by some giggling witches.

When he finally reached her table, she didn't look up at him, seeming busy adding sugar to her tea cup with a small smirk on her face that he didn't quite know how to interpret.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, drag her to the nearest empty room and beg for her forgiveness, open his heart, kiss her, leave her with no doubt of his feelings for her.

I would spend the rest of my life working to deserve you, proving to you that you're perfect, if you let me.

But he couldn't say that, part of him feared her reaction if he got too close; he knew things could go south quickly if he as much as touched her arm.

So he cleared his throat and just politely greeted her: "Miss Granger."

She finally looked up, saying: "Lord Malfoy." with a nod and a small smirk.

His mouth twitched at the hint of mockery he could hear in her voice. The previous image of him dragging her to an empty room turned into a need – he could see himself throwing her short and curvy body over his shoulder, carrying her away and just kissing that smirk off her face.

On the other hand, he didn't want to be hexed that day, so he simply asked: "Can I join you?"

"Sure." she said before sipping her tea.

Her unexpected nonchalance only added to his nervousness; he couldn't be the only one to recall how furious she had been just four days ago, how she had thrown him and their friends out of her flat and disappeared for the remainder of the week.

What the fuck are you playing at, Granger?

A house elf approached the table and floated a three-tier serving plate onto it.

Granger thanked the elf and calmly selected a few finger foods and sweets, adding them to her plate.

"Are you... enjoying the party?" he asked cautiously.

"Are you attempting to small talk with me?" she replied in a challenging tone.

Glancing around, Draco noticed there were many eyes and ears on the two of them, but he needed to know: "What are you doing here, Granger?" his voice soft and inquiring.

"I told you I'd be accepting your mother's invitation, if only to check how utterly insipid your options were." She picked up a small sandwich and chewed. "Also, Harry gave me your desperate message." she looked into his eyes, letting him see she wasn't angry but her overall feelings were unreadable.

"It wasn't desperate." He felt the need to defend himself.

She arched an eyebrow at him, "I had Harry's Pensieve for the week, Malfoy; he gave me his memory of you storming into his office and the talk that ensued. It was rather... distressing. However, more entertaining than this." She looked around the room.

He nodded, trying to remember what he had said to Potter but unable to come up with a single sentence, his brain was half-dead, drowned in bafflement at why she was there.

"Your verdict on their insipidness?" he decided to ask.

"It's even worse than I thought." Granger shook her head. "Some of them speak of you as if you were half-god or something. It's truly pathetic. They have no idea who you truly are."

Draco felt like walking on the platitudinous eggshells as he admitted: "I daresay," he nodded. "Apart from my mother and the elves, you're the only one here who knows me, Granger."

"Yes. And you're not half-deity; half-witted maybe." she cuttingly replied.

Draco let out a heavy sigh, not taking that bait to enter an insult battle with her – not in a public space anyway.

"Listen," he needed to steer that conversation to the topic that mattered to him: "I don't know how much you know about this tea parties, but they have a nefarious objective-"

She interrupted him with a smirk: "Yes. They're all here to fight for your attention. I'm well-aware." She sipped her tea. "This is the civilized version of letting them gladiate each other to the death and the survivor gets the honour to wear your name and House colours and birth your heirs."

Draco snorted a laugh. "Yes. That's what this is."

"They're all very beautiful. You're a lucky man."

He frowned at her, fearing her words meant she didn't reciprocate his feelings anymore.

"May I remind you, Miss Granger, of what was said in your flat earlier this week?" he maintained the politeness even though what he truly wanted was to shout: Cut the crap, Granger!

But she surprised him by requesting: "Why don't you remind me, Lord Malfoy?" with a glint in her eyes that made him certain she hadn't just gone there to take a closer look at the attendees – and that had him destabilized.

"No more games, Granger." he pleaded in a whisper. "You are very much aware I think you're the most gorgeous woman in this room."

She visibly supressed her smile from blossoming, "Don't let Narcissa hear you." she said.

"I'm sure mother would be more than glad to relinquish her throne for tonight if that meant I get you court you."

Her repressed smile turned into a more serious press of lips.

Draco sighed, stealing her cup of tea and drinking nearly half of it, wishing it were whisky. "You probably don't even know what that means."

Granger snorted, finally dropping the nonchalance and apparently deciding to speak openly to him.

"I do, actually know what that means. I'm much more pathetic than you think, Malfoy." she took her cup back from his hand and refilled it before sipping it herself.

He was surprised by her words and her actions – she neither admonished him for stealing her cup nor took a clean one for herself, choosing to drink from the one he had just drank himself.

That was strangely... intimate.

"I read about this-" Granger continued, looking around the room and clearly meaning more than just the party. "About all of this." she sighed, and he noticed her fidgeting briefly with an embroidery in the tablecloth before speaking again: "When we were hunting horcruxes, I took a few books with me; some of them were on pureblood customs and etiquette."

Draco frowned, fully surprised. "You read about those things? Why?"

She gave him a sad smile and a one-shoulder shrug. "We were three teenagers hunting pieces of Voldemort's soul, there was little to no hope of surviving to see the end of the war. All I had to go by were... my dreams." She finished in a sigh.

Draco was even more confused: "And you dreamed of... pureblood customs?"

"Don't play dumb, Malfoy." she rolled her eyes, apparently believing he was pretending not to understand her. She looked a little uncomfortable as she continued: "I dreamed of you. I did have a crush on you for the longest time. So, as I slept in tents and carried a horcrux around my neck for hours, I used learning about your world as a distraction." she paused, drinking more tea. "What I want to say is that I know about all of this- the tea parties and the courtships."

He tilted his head, trying to control the feeling of light-headedness that wanted to take over him at hearing her admit she had feelings for him.

"Wait." He asked. "How did you read The Ladies' Manual of Etiquette and Good Breeding right under Potter's and Weasel's noses and they didn't laugh at you?"

"Well, I transfigured the book covers into the Beedle the Bard's." Granger let out a small chuckle. "Ronald was surprised by how much I laughed, he said he didn't remember The Bard being so funny." she picked up a raspberry tart. "One of the books I read was The Pureblood Lady's Manual, and dear God, it explicit said a Lady should expect her husband to be absent a night a week, at least, to visit his mistress, for a pureblood Lady should never keep her husband from the pleasures of the flesh."

Draco grimaced, "Sounds like a lovely read."

"Oh, yeah, thankfully I didn't get to finish that."

"Too revolutionary?" Draco asked with a mocking smile.

"No, I set it on fire one night as I read it while carrying the horcrux. I blame it on Voldemort."

"His most unforgiving crime, I'm sure." he whispered jokingly and saw her smile at him, and that feeling of belonging he always had in the moments they weren't arguing filled his body and soul again.

This was what he wanted for his life: to be able to openly joke about his past, each day, making it less and less heavy. And She was the only one who could ever understand that side of him.

And he bet he was the only one that could understand her – otherwise she would've married the Weasel already.

"This pureblood culture is terrible, honestly." she added, "I truly do not understand why all these girls are here. I'd never want this future for my daughter."

Draco stole her tea cup again, finishing the tea and refilling it before returning it to the saucer in front of her.

"I don't want a pureblood wife." He said, staring at her.

She nodded, either missing his meaning or choosing to be indifferent once more: "Lucky for you I see many half-blood women here this evening."

"Granger-" he tried to speak, but she stopped him:

"Has our Lord Malfoy picked up his champion yet?" and she had that glint in her eyes again, as if she knew something he didn't.

And that made him even more unbalanced than before.

"Mother is making me chose a fiancée tonight." And I want her to be you!

"I know." she smiled. "I watched your 'not-desperate' talk with Harry, remember?"

"Granger." He spoke in a low careful tone, suspicious of something although he didn't quite know what. "What-?"

"And choose a bride you shall." she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "To fulfil your duty as the heir of two noble ancient Houses – finding a proper wife and breeding an heir into her."

Draco fisted his hands, realizing then that she was taunting him on purpose for some reason.

I'd love nothing more than to do some breeding, Granger. He wanted to tell her, but couldn't; so, he just fixed her with a heated gaze, letting his eyes roam her chest, unashamedly appreciating the curve of her breasts under her velvet dress, licking his lips, making his unspoken desire clear.

She cleared her throat, taking a sip of her tea and choosing a sweet from the three-tier plate.

"Why are you here?" Draco pleaded in a near-whisper. "After Monday and your absence at work, I thought-"

"I needed to leave." she said with a smile. "It wasn't anything you did. I loved my job but... I was honestly fed up with it. What happened Monday was the sign I needed to rethink my life. And focus on something that I've been wanting for a long time."

"And what is it?" Was she moving away?

But she went on without answering his question: "I asked Harry for his Pensieve, as you know."

"And why was that?" He asked, clenching his jaw briefly, picking up her tea cup and drinking it, "To watch all the things I did? To hate me just a little more?"

She looked at him with a small smile he couldn't quite place again, but it made him feel like she was able to see all his insecurities – and he didn't like it.

"Well," she replied, refilling the tea cup they'd been sharing. "First, I replayed all the conversations we've had in the past two months – both as ourselves and under glamour at the bar. And..." She laughed charmingly. "you have no idea what I saw in that Pensieve."

He frowned, "If you watched memories of us I was obviously there, Granger, so I know-"

"No, Malfoy." she shook her head. "You don't get it." she paused, not offering any further explanation. "After that, I decided to watch everything, from our first encounter on the train in 1991 to Monday night in my flat."

Draco stole a raspberry tart from her plate, "And what have you found out?"

"That we are" she replaced the stolen tart with another from the three-tier plate, "idiots."

He glanced around, noticing there were more than just a couple of eyes on them. "If we're starting the name-calling, Miss Granger-"

She narrowed her eyes at him, ordering: "Quiet, Draco. Let me finish."

His eyebrows raised and eyes widened, the shock of hearing his name on her lips effectively shut him up.

She continued: "I watched our interactions at work, and heard Jake's words at the pub..." she shook her head.

"And?"

"I already said it: we're complete idiots."

Draco didn't know what to respond to that; he felt like an idiot – the biggest idiot to have ever lived – for if he had only acted like a grown man and not carried their schoolyard squabbles to their adult lives, maybe things would have been different.

"I'm sorry, Granger." he felt the need to say.

But he saw her confused frown, "You've already apologized for-"

"No, not for the school stuff. No. I'm sorry for not acting like you deserve. I didn't know what to do with my feelings for you – I never did. When we were kids, I hated being second to you on everything at school; then we grew up and you turned into this fucking gorgeous witch and I... I truly acted like an idiot."

She took a sip of tea, looking straight at him unwaveringly but not saying another word.

"Please, Hermione." he used her name like she had used his. "Why are you here?" if he sounded like a desperate man he no longer cared, for he felt like a desperate man who had reached a crucial moment in his life – which he could ruin with one wrong word. "Please, I need to know."

She put her cup on the saucer and looked at him with a smile, "I don't know, Draco." that glint of mischief was back in her eyes. "Why am I here?"

Fuck, Granger. He wanted to curse out loud but couldn't'; he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it.

"Why do you always have to be like this?" he sighed, frustrated.

She finished the tea and smiled. "For all I know, Draco, if I were an dim-witted giggling bint we wouldn't be here."

He laughed softly, having to agree "No. We wouldn't."

"You like when I talk back." she crossed her arms on the table, leaning a little towards him.

He didn't even try to stop the heat that filled his gaze as he replied: "And you like that I challenge you."

"Do I?" she wrinkled her nose.

He leaned towards her, their faces too close for decency. "My most annoying trait you called it." He whispered.

"And I stand by it." She smiled, glancing quickly at his lips before her eyes met his again, "But I'm here, aren't I?"

His heart nearly stopped and he felt that if he didn't kiss her right that second he'd die.

Draco raised a hand to her face, his eyes fixed on her lips as he moistened his own.

"Two doors down the corridor there's a library, Hermione. Follow me there-"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," said Narcissa stopping by their table. "But soon I'll have combusting witches to deal with, if you two don't stop flirting. Besides, this is too uncomfortable for a mother to witness." She pointed at the two of them.

Draco saw Granger blush as she spoke: "I'd love to see the library later, Lord Malfoy."

"What?" Narcissa gasped. "I don't think so!" she pointedly glared at him. "No library frolicking until a proper announcement has been made."

He returned his mother's glare and looked back at Granger, seeing her biting her lip to apparently stop herself from laughing, her hands smoothing her dress as if to give herself something to focus on.

"Mother," he said, trying to diffuse the tension of that situation. "I don't think Miss Granger wants-"

But Granger interrupted him, "After all this mess, you still dare deem to know what I want, Lord Malfoy?" her voice heavy with a challenge.

Draco had had enough of all of that back and forth. He leaned towards her, one hand holding her arm, and lowered his face to hers, staring intently into her eyes, "Will you accept it, Hermione? My courtship?"

He felt her tremble and saw her eyes fluttering shut for a second.

"Yes or no, Granger?" he demanded, still looking into her eyes.

Then he watched the corners of her mouth move up in a daring smile.

"Why don't you ask and find out, Draco?"

"Bloody hell." He shook his head, unsure why he'd expected anything else. "You always have to be this difficult?"

She shrugged, sipping her tea again.

And Narcissa took him away.