The lift stopped only twice on the way up. The first time was on the 8th floor, to admit a bent old man, skin the exact color and consistency of tanned leather, dressed in blue coveralls, and pushing a wheeled trash can filled with shredded paper, candy wrappers, and the like. The janitor rode with me two floors, cursing under his breath in Portuguese, then got off again without so much as glancing in my direction.

No one else got on or off, and I was a bit pleased. The ride was much shorter without having to stop at every floor, and I was very anxious to see Malfoy. I had some questions I needed answered about Ms. Geranium's file.

And then the doors slid open.

A tornado. That was the first thing that went through my mind. A tornado had hit the filing cabinet. Papers littered the desk, and carpeted the floor, and hung from the blades of the currently immobile ceiling fan. A tornado for sure.

And then I realized how ridiculous that was. Fred and George had been trying to bottle the violence of a tornado for ages.

I mean if the Weasley brothers couldn't do it, there was no way Malfoy could.

A more mundane explanation was in order.

And who better to get that explanation from than Malfoy himself… if I could find him under this mess.

"Hello?" I called tentatively.

A sharp reply of "Granger!" came from the open door of Malfoy's office. It was more of a summons than a greeting, and I complied with a grumble, picking my way through the mess, avoiding the papers as best I could. Too bad there was no spell for organizing them. A quick swish and flick could have them stacked in a neat pile on the desk but that would almost make it worse.

At long last I reached the door, and stepped into Malfoy's office giving him a scrutinizing look.

Ruffled, was probably the best way to describe him. He'd slipped off his jacket at some point, hanging it over the back of his chair, and sat there now in his dress shirt (blue, silk, and probably Italian, but definitely expensive). He had his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, tie unaccounted for, and first three buttons undone, exposing the smooth, too-pale flesh of his neck and chest. I had to wonder if he waxed, then I realized how stupid it was for me to be thinking about in the first place.

I shifted my gaze up. Platinum hair, mussed just so, in a manner that suggested he'd been running his fingers through it, though now those fingers were toying idle with his quill… his quill… I was looking at his hands?

It occurred to me then that I was doing everything I could to avoid looking him in the eyes.

Stupid, I berated myself, it's just stupid. I hadn't had a problem meeting his gaze before, was I really going to start now just because some stupid bird had sat in on my therapy session?

I looked up, and immediately felt my breath catch in my throat. I may have mentioned it before, but Draco Malfoy had stunning eyes. Eyes with all the qualities of freshly sharpened steel. Eyes that were thankfully devoid of any sort of knowing smugness… well I'll be, that feather brain was true to his word.

"Granger," He repeated, raising an eyebrow.

God, I must have been staring.

Not that there's anything to stare at.

"Yes?" and to my great consternation that 'yes,' which was supposed to come out snappish, came out slightly breathy instead.

"Take the stairs, Granger?" he asked in reference to my tone. I could almost hear his thought processes: 'or are you just happy to see me?'

Not bloody likely.

"Shut up, you loathsome man. What the bloody hell happened to your office?" now that was more like it. Fire, anger, and frustration… those are emotions I should be associating with Malfoy.

"You know," he said, as though I hadn't spoken at all, "you're just the person I wanted to see."

That brought me up short. I wanted to tell him not to change the subject, but I doubted it would do me any good. Besides, I didn't know if I could suppress the urge to run long enough to get an answer to my question even if I forced it. Historically, whenever Malfoy was happy to see me, it meant something bad was about to happen, and my fight-or-flight reactions had just kicked into overdrive.

Fight-or-flight, eh? Well, of the two, I think I'd rather… "What for?" I asked testily, crossing my arms over my chest and doing my best to look standoffish.

"Granger," I ignored the way my name sounded like a purr rolling off his lips, "relax."

He pushed his chair back, and stood in one fluid motion. I took an instinctive step backward, in spite of myself, as he began to move around the desk, and he grinned in a predatory fashion.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice all innocence, while his eyes promised… I wasn't sure what they promised, but I found myself being simultaneously attracted to, and repulsed by whatever it was I saw in them. "Surely," he continued, "I haven't flapped the unflappable Hermione Granger."

It took a conscious effort on my part to keep from moving further backward. No way was I giving ground to him. "You?" I snorted, and hoped my diminishing confidence wasn't audible. "Intimidate me?" my tone made it clear how ridiculous I found the idea, but he didn't seem to be paying me any mind, as he was still advancing. "Surely you're joking?" but it was half hearted at best, and now he was close enough that I could smell his breath coming in minty puffs, and the spicey clove scent that I was sure was his conditioner. He wasn't quite tall enough to loom over me, but I still had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.

I felt oddly weak.

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a wry grin. "Good," he said with a nod. "then sit." With that, he placed his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down into a soft arm chair, I hadn't even known I'd been backed into. "All that standing and posturing was getting on my nerves." I heard him mumble as he retreated behind his desk, and took his seat.

"And I thought you enjoyed getting a rise out of me."

"Oh, I do, Granger," he assured, leaning back in his chair. "Just not right now… I'm not sure if I can deal with your particular breed of unfounded hatred at the moment."

"Unfounded!" I screamed, preparing to leap from my chair, only to have it scuttle swiftly forward at Malfoy's snap. As I was only half way up, I fell back into the cushions with a yelp, and clung to the arms until it stopped opposite Malfoy.

"Okay," he conceded with a grin I'm sure he thought was charming and boyish. "so maybe not entirely unfounded…"

"You are a sick little shit, you know that?" he managed to look proud, the bastard. This was hopeless. "You know for someone who doesn't have the energy to be a jerk, you're doing a pretty good job. I thought you didn't want to piss me off."

"Oh, it isn't a lack of energy," he said behind that grin. "Rest assured, I've got that in spades. I just don't think I could properly enjoy your fury, were I to provoke it."

"At this rate, you're going to get it whether you enjoy it or not."

"Is that a fact?" he said with one arched brow.

"I… aurgh! Forget it! What did you need me for, Malfoy. The sooner I find out the sooner I can go."

"I never said I needed you, Granger. Wishful thinking?"

Draco Malfoy's head on a silver platter. With a sprig of mint for garnish… now that was wishful thinking.

"Out with it!"

"Sure you don't want to re-think my Saturday proposal?"

"Re-think your…" so that's what he wanted. Did he actually think I was going to come in on my day off to help him write a speech? Why on earth would I spend more time with him than I absolutely had to? "No! Absolutely not, I've already got plans, and…"

"So cancel them." He cut in.

"and," I glared at him for interrupting, "even if I didn't, I'm not spending my day off with you. Ask your Kiki to do it, if you really need the help so badly."

"As you've pointed out time and again," he replied in an exasperated tone, "she's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box." He paused, then snickered, "I'm sorry, did you just say 'my Kiki?' Granger, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you sounded a bit… chafed at the idea."

"Of course I'm not!"

But he was still chuckling. "Anyway, I can't ask her."

"So she isn't brilliant, she can still take dictation, can't she?"

"No, I can't ask her…"

"Because she had a dance lesson booked… look, I already know that, can't you just—"

"Granger, let me finish. I can't ask her, because she no longer works for me."

"She quit?"

"Yeah right. I fired her, Granger."

Fired? I bit my lip. "Well, that figures, doesn't it? You use her until you don't need her anymore, and then you just cast her aside." I wondered where my righteous indignation could have come from. I didn't even like the woman. Or I hadn't, anyway. "You are such a slimy, loathsome, disgusting—"

He stood, slamming his palms down on the table. "That is enough." I swallowed the next words out of my mouth. He'd gotten so serious so suddenly, his eyes hard and cold. It reminded me of our first meeting in this office, when I'd told him I was refusing his job, and he'd threatened me with destitution. I shivered under his eyes, and under the memory.

With a growl, he sunk back into his seat, and the hard edge was replaced by a weariness and… almost a wistfulness "There's no way to win with you, is there? You hated her, and I seem to recall several barbs lobbed in my direction about the practicalities of keeping an assistant with a larger bra-size than IQ."

"I didn't hate her. I didn't even know her. I hated you, and she was merely indicative of your lechery."

"Is that so?"

I nodded, "you used her."

Now the smirk was back, but there was a bitterness to it. "Perhaps." He conceded, "but whatever you may have thought, she wasn't dumb. She was a vibrant woman, and recent graduate of a small but accredited wizarding academy in Cairo. And she used me right back… for VIP treatment, new clothes, expensive perfumes, the occasional orgasm…"

"Shut up." The thought of Malfoy and… well… anyone being intimate brought a bitter taste to my mouth. There was something… something that I felt…it wasn't quite jealousy, and I wasn't sure I could put a name on it… not sure I'd want to if I could. I didn't want to think about Malfoy… and Kiki… and Jean… and whoever else he hired next…

Oh my god.

I had to get out of here.

"God you're a pig."

He leaned forward, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"No!" I cried in near desperation.

I was going to crack. He was going to push me, and I'd cave. I had to leave while I could.

I struggled out of my chair, and stormed for the door. Almost out. Almost.

"Forgetting something, Granger?"

I turned to see Malfoy dangling my bra from the end of his quill. I panicked for a moment, before I realized it was the one I was wearing last night, and blushed instead. With a sigh of resignation, I trudged back to the desk, and he pushed out his chair so he could reach underneath it.

He pulled out a neat stack of clothes, and stretched them out to me.

"Listen," I said, as I reached for them, "about those knickers… I'll pay you back for them, I just…" I was taking the pile from him, I had the clothes in my hands… and then…

He was grinning as he gripped my wrist, causing me to drop my stack. Still grinning even as he pulled, sending me sprawling, in a most undignified manner, across his desk. I couldn't see his grin, as he leaned in close to my ear, but I could sure as hell hear it in his voice. "Tomorrow, Granger." He paused, and I could feel his breath along the back of my neck, his lips so close to my ear, I could nearly feel the moisture from it "One way or another."

I inhaled, filling my lungs in preparation for the yell that was to come. Something along the lines of 'what the hell was that, and what do you think you're doing, you bastard,' but I heard the 'pop' of disapparation long before I had my breath.

I stood, and suddenly, I felt weak, leaning up against the desk for support.

What the hell had just happened? And I squashed the automatic reply of 'nothing' even as I thought it. He'd been so close… so close… cheek to cheek. And I could still smell him. spicey, and sweet, and I swear to God, if I closed my eyes, I could feel his breath curling into my ear… and I hadn't done anything.

Too shocked to move? Maybe.

And even with all my training, Malfoy's reflexes were formidable, but…

But the fact remained that I wasn't struggling all that much.

Maybe I really was beginning to trust him, I thought hopefully. Letting him get me in a position like that…

Or maybe…

No. Better to just forget about it. I've been under a lot of stress lately, and sleeping horribly. That had to be it. I was so focused on the case… the case…

"Well shit."

I'd never gotten the opportunity to ask about Serena Geranium, and for a split second, I considered going to ask him about it. The not entirely disgusted shiver that followed was enough to make me rethink that idea.

Nope, it was going to have to wait for Monday.

* * * * * *

I took a dreamless sleep potion that night.

Better safe than sorry.

* * *

The next morning I awoke feeling far from refreshed. That was the problem with dreamless sleep potions, no dreams meant no REM, and no REM meant sleep was less restful.

Stupid of me really. I mean, what was I doing? It wasn't like I was in any real danger of having another dream about that git. Like I told Dr. Calloway, it was only one. Not like I had them all the time. I didn't suffer from images of his deft hands caressing my body.

Not that anyone could call that suffering.

I paused. Now where had that thought… no, it didn't matter where it came from. All that mattered was that it was banished.

This was way too confusing. Obviously, seeing him everyday had caused me to short circuit or something. All I needed were a few blissfully Malfoyless days, and I'd be right as rain. I could go back to hating him.

Not that I didn't hate him already, or anything.

I growled. What if… what if he managed to follow through on his threat? Malfoy was nothing if not blindly determined. He wanted me to help him with his speech, and I knew first hand what happened when you defied him.

I… needed backup.

A pinch of powder, and my head was looking into Harry's living room.

"Hermione!" he jumped, obviously shocked to see me. He paused for a moment, unable to move, before a moan from his television galvanized him into action. He stopped his movie, but not before I got a good look at a woman doing another sort of unforgivable.

"Uh… surprise."

He smoothed down his clothes, crossing his legs, then deciding that was inadequate and nervously grabbing a throw pillow from beside him, and placing it in his lap.

"Um… How unexpected." He was as red as a Weasley, and refused to meet my eyes.

I understood immediately. "That woman won't let up on you will she?" I asked in my most amused tone.

Harry's eyes flashed relief, glad that I wasn't offended, or shocked, or disgusted.

"Nope, she's going to be home in an hour, and I was instructed to be… uh… ready."

"Harry, have you lost weight? You could just tell her the drill sergeant bit is bad for your health. I'm sure she'll understand."

Harry shook his head, burying it into his hands.

"If only it were that easy… you have no idea how much she wants this. The last time we went to a midwife, she didn't have any advice for us, so today we went to a fertility clinic."

"A fert… wow, she is desperate." It wasn't uncommon for a woman to see a midwife when she was trying to conceive, but for a pureblood witch to go to a fertility clinic?

"They have her on some drug to stimulate ovulation… she jus wants this so badly, Hermione. And she's made so many sacrifices for me, for my job, and for my… well, my destiny and all… and I think I owe it to her to…"

"Harry, stop right there. I thought this was about the pressure to, er, perform so often. You're talking like you don't want a baby!"

He coughed. "it's not that… it's just… you know, the pressure to perform… like you said." He nervously took his glasses off, and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt before placing them back on his face, and regarding me. "So… what was it that you flooed for?"

"I… just wanted to say hi?"

"I don't think so." He said in his 'you're busted' tone.

"Why are the men in my life always changing the subject?"

"Quit trying to change the subject."

"Alright, fine… I was just hoping you weren't busy tonight, but since you are…"

"Tonight? Oh, the concert, right?"

"Yeah."

"You change your mind about flying solo?"

"Well, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Okay, yeah, I changed my mind… but there are extenuating circumstances."

"Elaborate."

"Malfoy."

"Oh… enough said."

"He wants me to work tonight. Needs help writing his speech for the grand opening next week… I told him I was busy, but he didn't take that well."

"Indeed? Imagine that, Malfoy not taking 'no' for an answer."

"I swear, sometimes it's like he's not aged since the day we met him. he never gets any more mature, like he's a permanent bratty child."

"That's what happens when you're the only child of a rich family."

I smiled, "very true. Well, you can see why I'm a bit jumpy. Malfoy's selfish enough to do whatever it takes to ruin this evening having you or Ron there would have been a relief. It isn't like I think you could actually stop him. but, you know… moral support and all."

"There's an idea, Hermione… you might try Ron."

"No, the Terrible Twosome are doing research, and need Ron to test."

"Gah! Twins… Now that I'm actually going to be starting a family, nothing sounds more frightening."

"Oh really? Well think about this, with those drugs Cho's on, its quite possible that twins will be in your future as well."

Harry went three consecutive shades of green.

"See you, Harry,"

He waved, but seemed to shocked to speak.

* * * *

See… under a month.

Actually, this chapter has been finished for about 4 days, but I haven't had the time to type it in until just now.

Next chapter has been started, and I'll have it out as soon as I can.

What else, what else… I feel like I'm forgetting something…

Grr… oh well, I'm sure it was nothing.

As usual, I'm open to any sort of constructive criticism… or insane praise.

Thanks again to all my readers…