Guardian of the Treasure

Disclaimer: Own nothing but plot and original characters.

Chanel BW, look for one of your favourite lines.

Now, there is a really cool author who could get more reviews--her name is ewagurl4eva. She has two Hermione/Draco stories-- Fallen White Roses and Things Unknown. Both are good, with the first providing a darn roller coaster ride--all the fainting at the ends of chapters(only twice)--the second with some really good funny lines, and one that will go down in history.

SO GET TO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! READ THEM BOTH!!!!!!!!

Guardian of the Treasure

Hermione and Ginny stood like two giggling teenagers right outside Le Cafe, surveying Jewellery Exquisite with an eagle's eyes. It was absolutely stunning: what had started out on a piece of paper that now became a fully fledged lush, exotic scene for summer. Already the few early morning passers by stopped to stare at the display appreciatively. Some of the men stopped to stare at both the women and the display; after all, each was a knock out.

Hermione was in a very good mood at the time, since Ginny was talking to her, and the two of them were happy, almost pushed back to Hogwarts days as if Hermione was not standing in front of her own business with her Personal Assisstant. Back when their lives were unclouded by boys.

Unfortunately, the boys were now men, and were extremely provoking, though sweet, and things weren't always what they appeared. This lesson was to be drummed into their heads.

Very, very hard, and by an unlikely source.

Hermione and Ginny crossed the road, and entered the shop. Hermione made sure it was obvious that the shop was open, even as Ryan pinned up a silhouette on the wall. Inside was rather stark compared to outside and first. From wild living colour to stark cream walls, it seemed dull. And then you saw the glitter and sparkle of the gems, and you forgot that.

Hermione breathed to make sure she was alive. It seemed like a dream. This was hers. What she had created for herself, made when she was crushed. She pinched herself now, sure it was a dream.

Ginny, who had been circling the walls, pointed out the picture of the water fight. No one had any idea who took that. Ryan was obviously in the picture, as was nearly every one else. Something about that particular sun drenched day was memorable, and she knew just who took the picture. And then, Ginny squealed, whirled Hermione around and brought her face to face with a picture of

Herself. The pairs of identical brown eyes locked onto each other, and the real Hermione was a little shocked to see herself. The picture contrasted firmly. Her face looked flawless, her eyes regarding someone coolly, but a hint of something lurked in the depths, maybe more than one thing. Her smile was what she and Malfoy alike and unknown to the other called her elfin smile, like it had snuck out when she wasn't expecting it. It was now somewhat exasperating. She looked like the Mona Lisa, holding a secret and also looked like the cat who had somehow gotten at the cream. The picture had been taken the same day of the water fight, and when the memory of sunset was still burned vividly into her head. That she ignored.

Her clothes were her normal work suit, divine jewellery included, but her shoes were someone's sexy stiletto heels. Her pose was the type that said Oh yeah I'd like to see you try it. The picture was simply titled "The Boss".

Malfoy walked in then, and stared at the picture, like everyone else was doing. He very nearly whistled, however he kept that idea to himself. His only thought was Sexy. Very Hermione.

"I look like a treasure guardian," said Hermione. She didn't know if she was complaining or pleased, and it tinged in her voice as undecided.

Sexy treasure guardian. It was very Hermione . . . very Hermione.

"Well, certainly no one is going to try stealing anything, with you watching them," remarked Ginny. "I certainly wouldn't dare to."

"You're not the only one," muttered Draco, but in an undertone so no one heard him. He spun on his heel and zoomed up the stairs, away from both the picture and the woman. The two were merging in his head, unsurprisingly, and both annoyed him. He didn't like thinking about Hermione. She nearly prevented him from working. So far, though he had nothing to do, nothing at all much.

He set a pencil to paper and began to come up with the platinum and diamond engagement ring. He liked to draw, it was one of the many lesser known things about him. Occasionally he copied drawings, but mostly he drew whatever came to mind. Often it was depressing; recently he'd burned a whole set of pictures. They were reminders of a time of his life he didn't want to remember . . . some of them were drawn when he was four, a little boy running from his father, screaming in a corner, cowering. The one at eleven when he went to Hogwarts, where he was getting depressed and lonely. One of him attempting suicide. Not that he'd ever tried that but . . .

He stared at the drawing he was supposed to draw and swore in French. He'd been drawing

a picture of famed Golden Trio. He promptly burned that, stretched, and inhaled the scents of cinnamon and vanilla mingled.

Damn it.

He promptly blocked the door. He actually drew a picture with the design for the ring, sent it downstairs, and stared at the remaining pieces of paper. Most of them were meaningless scribbles to him and the rest of the world. One was Hermione in a miniskirt. Damn, yet again . . . she must be affecting him. So he checked the watch, and disappeared into Le Cafe.

It wasn't crowded in the crazy coffee shop, but he took a near window seat so he could see the little store. It was amazingly effective, he was proud of the design.

"Draco. How nice to see you!" It was Ryan, her eyes bubbling with something more than their usual mischief. The shop door opened across the road, and babbling children came out with boxes. The silhouette which Ryan had very imaginatively called "Silhouette" gleamed in colour beyond the door again.

"What have you been up to now Ryan," he said, as she seated her self opposite him. There was space for two more.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking innocent.

"You look like you were up to mischief . . ."

She looked exactly like a little girl when she said "I haven't done a thing." He heard the muttered syllable "much."

"Ryan . . ."

"What?"

The silhouette teased him again, the rich reds, pinks oranges and dusky purples vivid as real life. A woman with curly hair was backed on something or the other, her arms around the man's neck. His hair was longish, his noise slightly crooked.

He remembered that bend. He got it when he fell down the stairs.

The whole moment suddenly came back to him with such vivid reality it was a struggle to keep his face straight.

"So Ryan, it seems that you took all the photos on the same day."

She nodded, then, frowning said "It was weird though, I was sure no one had gotten the water fight. I don't know where the picture came from."

"But you knew where Silhouette came from, didn't you." Draco's voice was low, silky, and the type that let people know exactly how much trouble you were in, which was, at the moment, quite a lot.

"Well . . ."

"Don't answer. I'm sure that Miss Granger will adore the picture." The eyes glittered dangerously. Ryan gulped. She was in a lot of trouble. A whole lot of trouble.

&&&&&&&&&&

Malfoy looked pretty innocent, if he could accomplish that. Which was why Hermione was suspicious. Normally he had something up his sleeve . . . something that she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know . . .

"Miss Granger."

"Skip the formalities and sit down." The air crackled with static electricity. It was distracting.

He sat. "Tut tut. So impolite, and I haven't done anything at all. Yet."

"And what exactly were you supposed to do?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Several things. Tease the life out of you, and inform you." His eyes were glittering, indecipherable. She'd learnt that when his eyes glittered like that, someone was generally in some sort of trouble.

"And how did you plan on accomplishing both of those?" she asked, merely curious. Maybe that wasn't a good thing. After all, curiosity killed the cat. "You have ten minutes to accomplish both of those."

He was across by her so fast she wasn't sure if she heard a pop, but she definitely knew he was kissing her. Softly, warmly, tenderly, but he teased the life out of her. She surrendered, after all she didn't have much choice.She fought hard, but it didn't work. She would surrender. Her lips parted, and she allowed him to tease her more.

When he broke it off, she was smiling, contented. Curiosity killed the cat, but pleased the woman. The electricity had been replaced by a hot, low, hum.

"You've teased me now," she said, not able to hid the pleasure. "Now get off of my desk, and tell me what you had to tell me."

He smiled, dangerously. "Nothing much. Just that silhouette is a stunning photo, of a couple, on a verandah, in France, this year. Take one wild guess."

He bent and kissed her again, long, slow and sensuous. She wasn't expecting it, but it pleased her. The hum rose a little, adding a slight throb. "It's summer, dahling," he informed her, drawling out the last word as was his tendency.

Then he was gone.

She hated all three kisses he'd given her in total. Each one left her disoriented, annoyed, and worst of all, wishing for more. It was strictly forbidden, mainly by herself, but she couldn't ignore her own self. She was attracted to him. Oh gods above, no. She tried to vanquish that thought by thinking of the snobby boy that she'd left at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the latter image of the too-sexy man refused to leave her at all.

Damn. As if she'd needed reminding it was summer.

She pondered what he'd told her, about the silhouette, and suddenly she was a little more annoyed and a little amused. And so she sent out the cream memo towards Ryan, her colour. The cinnamon and vanilla candles that she usually burned were no help. She was in a strange mood, she realized.

She stretched, and realized the heat hum was only in her own blood, pounding past her ears.

She slipped off her shoes, ignoring--or trying to--the lingering male scent that clung to her office. Curling into her chair, she watched the door like a cat.

Ryan was up in a minute, looking slightly apprehensive. But this couldn't hide her natural bubbling spirits. "So Hermione, what did you want me for?"

Hermione smiled, pleasantly enough. "You know what I wanted you for."

"You mean the picture?"

"Really now," said Hermione, dryly.

"Umm . . . am I fired?"

This caught Hermione entirely by surprise, and she started to laugh. The laughter rang out of her in surprised peals. It had been a while since she had laughed like that, and it was good for her. "No, certainly not. You're actually not even in trouble. Just that warn both me and Malfoy if you plan to do that kind of thing in the future."

Ryan looked relieved.

"Now, my dear friend Ryan, we'll find out how long it will take for the rest of them too figure out. If they figure it out sooner rather than later, I may or may not dock your pay. By about five dollars."

"What are you going to do with five dollars?" asked Ryan, surprised.

"I'll figure it out, somehow. Good evening."

"Evening, Mione."

&&&&&&&&&&

Ryan ran into Draco not too long afterward.

"I'm not in trouble," she said, pleased. "Guess you were wrong."

He looked at her, and suddenly she felt like a student. "I'll let you in on two things. One, you made her laugh. She does adore it. Two, anything for an excuse. Good evening Ryan," he said, disappearing with a smirk.

Anything for an excuse, huh? asked Ryan, mentally. To go in there. And Hermione still looked like a cat with cream. Interesting. Very interesting . . .

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!