A 5x5 ft horizontal slab of oak separated myself from Draco Malfoy. He had this way of sitting, Malfoy did, all hunched forward, his weight on his elbows, his gray eyes regarded me over thin steepled fingers, that fairly screamed "lackadaisical arrogance."

It made me long to feel my fist connecting with his pointed chin.

How could he just be sitting there, so relaxed, and not saying a word, when the silence was driving me batty?

Oh. Right. Stress relieving extra-curricular activities, I reminded myself. You see, after I'd been taken in to custody, Goyle and his partner (3 guesses) had flooed the waste of protein that now sat across from me, and he'd informed the two lunkheads that had me in custody that I wasn't to be released until he'd gotten the chance to interview me. He'd then proceeded to take his sweet time getting here, despite the fact that it was just a swish and flick away.

I'd managed to get from Crabbe that he was busy. . . now how had he put it? Dictating to his assistant?

I bet.

It had been 35 minutes from floo to apparation. Must have been some letter he was composing.

And all the while, I'd felt a quiet rage building in the pit of my stomach. A sort of righteous indignation, if you will. I had to wait in a holding area with Tweedles Dee and Dum for company, with the file I'd pinched and shrunk burning a hole in my back pocket, while Malfoy was busy "dictating" to. . . what's her name? Carol, or Catherine, or Kitty, or something.

By the time he'd actually shown up, I was ready to kill.

Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle were still there to hold me back.

I'd settled instead for a stony silence as he'd dismissed his thugs, and took the seat across from me, but I was regretting that tactic now, for it seemed he was quite willing to let it stretch on into eternity, while I went quietly mad.

Silence, I was beginning to learn, was my sworn enemy. Silence allowed my mind to wander, and lately, I'd been less than pleased about the territory it had taken to sojourning in. Right now, it was bouncing between holy rage at Malfoy's. . .well, his lack of professionalism, and the embarrassment I felt, sitting there, his soul piercing gray eyes on me, while my memory kept feeding me random images from that accursed dream!

Fifteen minutes, at least, we'd been alone, and all he'd done so far was smirk and stare.

Oh, he knew how crazy this was making me, though it was my good fortune that he didn't know exactly why. He knew, and he was enjoying every minute of this torture. God, but he had the uncanny ability to annoy me.

I added it to my already long list of reasons to hate Malfoy.

Argh! I'd had enough! It had finally reached a point where my options had narrowed to two: break the silence, or break Malfoy's neck.

The later was decidedly the more satisfying one, but the former was less likely to land me in Azkaban. Ex-Aurors didn't do too well there.

Option number one, it was, then.

"So," I offered, in what I hoped was a conversational tone, "still friendly with Crabbe and Goyle, I see."

"Still friends with Potter the Wonder Boy, and his amazing Red Headed Sidekick, I see"

"Oh, bravo, Malfoy, you've been holding that one in, haven't you. That's twice I've seen you since you saw them, and this is the first you mention of it. Must have just been killing you. You'll have to tell me what it was like, some day. I imagine I'd find the description of your pain most entertaining, sounds like bed-time reading."

"Most people prefer to read other thing before bed." He said with a smirk. "Oh, now don't get all mad, Granger, you're the one who brought up old acquaintances. "

"But I didn't insult your friends, Malfoy.

"Since when have I needed a reason to insult Potter and his lot?"

Well, it was nice to know exactly how much Malfoy'd matured over the years. I gave a malicious glare, and responded, "oh, come on Malfoy, you've always had plenty of reasons, insecurity being the chief among them."

His eyes flickered for a moment, as if he couldn't decide whether to be find me infuriating, or entertaining. Infuriating, I hoped. I suddenly realized how much this amusement with which he'd been treating me as of late was beginning to irk me.

I wanted to push him until he lost his temper, and gave me a real reason to hit him. I wanted to break his resolve.

So I pressed my advantage.

"of course," I said, making sure to keep my voice light, "there was also jealousy (and of course we can see why), idiocy, just plain meanness, and. . ." I trailed off as he began to chuckle. "Malfoy, perhaps you weren't following, but I was insulting you."

"I caught that, Granger," he said with a shake of his head, "but come on, Granger, you're trying too hard. The thought of it. Me. . . jealous of Potter and Weasley. You really were fishing for insults, weren't you." He wiped a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye, "not only that, but it helps, when delivering insults, when you don't sound so. . .forced."

"Git."

"See, Granger, better already," he nodded in approval, "if slightly unoriginal."

"I assume you're used to being called a git, aren't you?"

"Quite. But I believe we've gotten a bit off track."

"Were we ever 'on track?' All I seem to remember was you, staring at me."

"Was I staring?" he asked, eyes wide in what could only be feigned innocence. Malfoy was never innocent. "I was only wondering what could possibly get such a smart little witch so worked up that she forgot to check for wards before apparating into a secured building. It was an exceedingly foolish thing to do, the sort of bumbling I'd attribute to one of your loathsome little pals, but hardly what one would expect from the woman who was supposedly the smartest witch in our year."

"Sod off," I said sullenly.

"Temper, temper, Granger. I was only asking." He leaned forward, his grin widening. "So tell me, my little witch, what did you want so badly in the middle of the night. I doubt it was to end up with me."

"I honestly didn't think you'd ward the temp office. Isn't that a bit paranoid?"

"Obviously not."

"Oh, yes, way to go, Malfoy. You guys have really apprehended a hardened criminal this time. Must have made it all worth while."

"Don't be a sore loser, Granger. Just because I've managed to do to you what you tried for years to do to me, namely, catch you breaking the law, doesn't mean you have the right to be sore about it."

"Please, don't even begin to compare this to what you've done!"

"What I've allegedly done, Granger, don't forget, for all your snooping, you never uncovered a thing on me. . .and with good reason: I've been toeing the line since graduation, Darling." My responding growl induced a raised eyebrow from him, "you, on the other hand, have just been caught breaking and entering. Not exactly Azkaban material, I agree, but it is a hefty fine, and a nasty stain on your otherwise virgin pure record."

I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"If you should choose to report it, that is."

His grin turned three shades of evil. "That's right, Granger. If I should choose to report it. And if I shouldn't. . .well, I scratch your back, you scratch mine?"

I gulped at the image that leapt to mind, and decided then and there that I needed to get out more. As soon as possible.

Perhaps even put in a call to my therapist.

"But first thing's first," he continued, "why were you at temporary services tonight?"

It would have been easy just to tell him the truth, I was tired, and drained from having to deal with him, and ready to go home. It would have been easy, but I didn't want to make things easy. Not for him. "None of your business," came my reply.

"Oh, but it is my business. It's all my business. Don't forget whose company this is."

"Perhaps I was having an illicit rendezvous with Tracy Higgins," I said defiantly.

Malfoy's eyes glittered momentarily with something I couldn't quite place, but in a moment, the flash was gone. "He wouldn't dare," came the dark reply.

"Just what do you mean by that?" I asked, thrilled to finally be getting under his skin.

"You're changing the subject, just answer the question."

"I. . ." I didn't understand why I was making this so difficult, "I. . ." it just wasn't rational, "I. . ." what lie would he believe? "I was looking for my file, okay?" I said in a defeated voice, trying to make it sound more like an admission, and less like a lie. "I wanted to know what was next on your twisted little agenda for me."

He leaned back in his char, looking very pleased with himself. "Granger, all you had to do was ask."

I had to stop myself from sighing in relief. That sort of thing was a dead give away.

"So?" I asked.

"So?"

"So, what is it?"

He grinned, "I acquired a Paris lounge about three months ago. Great location, right along the Seine, but the previous owners ran it into the ground, and it's been the last two and a half months just on the renovations. The place needs extra staff for the grand re-opening. It's a short gig, about three days, I should think."

"I suppose I could handle being a hostess," I said with more than a touch of relief.

Malfoy tilted his head, and squinted at me, and I wasn't positive what exactly he was picturing, but I knew it wouldn't be pleasant. "Actually, I was thinking something more on the lines of cocktail waitress."

Cocktail waitress! But. . .hostesses wore suits, and dressed in austere, or sensible clothes. Cocktail waitresses wore little black skirts, and sexy blouses with the top two buttons undone, and four inch heels. "I can't be a cocktail waitress!"

"It's either that," he said with a smirk, "or entertainment. You don't sing do you?" though his tone clearly said that he doubted it.

"I play piano."

Widening of smirk.

"Well, some."

Raised eyebrow.

"I can play 'Chopsticks'"

"Who can't? "

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy."

"Well, honestly, is that your idea of entertainment? A frumpy piano player beating out one song over and over again?"

"I am not frumpy. . .and besides, I think they'd prefer a frumpy pianist to a frumpy waitress."

He continued on as though he hadn't heard me at all, "I think it's pretty obvious why the LWS turned you down for that Events Coordinator job now."

The London Wizard Symphony (as well as Douglas and Darcy, and the Paris Zoo of Magical Creatures, and Bartleby Insurance, and countless other companies) was not a subject I would be bringing up to a Miss Hermione Granger, if I were pasty faced bastard named Draco Malfoy. "I think we both know why they turned me down, you little maggot."

"Again, my dear, I must remind you to keep a reign on that fiery temper of yours. Did I happen to touch a nerve?"

"Of course you did. You always do. And you should, really you work so hard at it."

He looked genuinely shocked. "Granger, it's not work."

Easy now. Repeat after me: I will not strangle my boss, I will not strangle my boss, I will not…

"Don't you have anything better to do than make me hate you?"

"Granger," he said, his smile turning something between charming and seductive, "you don't hate me."

That simple statement, so confident, so sure, coupled with that smile, made my breath catch in my throat, and an electric tingle travel up my spine. Simply revolting. How could I let him do that to me? How could I allow myself to react like that? Answer: I wouldn't.

I stood, and if that wasn't a subtle enough signal that this meeting was over, I asked, "are you going to charge me?"

"I thought we were scratching eachother?"

"We might be, if I stick around. And I can't have your skin under my nails when they find your body. I'll be the prime suspect."

"Off with you then," he said with a wave, "but we aren't through yet, Granger."

And with those ominous words ringing in my ears, I apparated home.

*

*

*

I threw down the file with a disgruntled growl. I'd been reading for a while now, but I hadn't managed to take anything in. I simply couldn't concentrate.

Damn Malfoy. Damn those stupid meetings of his. Damn. . .damn.

I hated him. Or I suppose that what I really hated was the fact that he was right. For all the horrible things he'd done, I didn't really hate him. I May have come closer to it with him than anyone else, but I didn't actually hate him.

That bothered me too, I suppose. That I was so close to hatred with him, but I'd never let anyone else get to me the way he did. He made me irrational. He made me illogical. He made me. . .

Argh! Enough! No more!

I mean, for god sakes, how much could one girl think about Malfoy in a day without going insane?

I groaned, and buried my head in my hands. This just kept getting worse.

With a sigh, I reached out to take the file up once more, but when I lifted it off the table, my eye caught upon the paper under it: the Nine Inch Wands flier.

Hadn't I promised myself an evening out? Hm… Concert. This Saturday.

Why not?

*

*

*

Alright, guys. So not much plot in this one, but I did do a really long Granger/Malfoy scene. If anyone was wondering why this took so long, that's why.

I believe I've mentioned the trouble I have with them.

I have three totally different versions of that scene floating around in various notebooks, not to mention all the re-writes I did, once I had the basic direction down. I'm still not 100% sure about it, but I'm ready to progress with the story, so it's just going to have to wait until I'm ready to do revisions (speaking of which, feedback greatly appreciated).

Wanted to plug a few, while I'm thinking about it.

I love Plastraa's Draco's Inheritance more and more with every chapter.

Well, crap! There were others, I swear, but I've lost my list!

Well, anyway, I still suggest Gravidy's God of the Lost, and Phantasm's the Secret Keeper (though she's taking her sweet time with an update ;) ), and I'm still waiting for more from Random Minion.

And that's all I've got off the top of my head.

Thank you, everybody, and goodnight!!!