Older And Non-The Wiser
By ILUVRONWEASLEY

A/N: Hello! Just a few quick words before I leave -I'd like to thank the reviewers! Without reviews, this story wouldn't be half as much fun to write. If I could type a smiley face in here successfully, then I assure you, I would have done a dozen by now. Secondly, I'd like to apologise for the lateness of this update. What with Christmas and the New Year, and all the other general holiday festivities, I didn't have enough time to edit the chapter.

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Chapter Four.

Draco awoke to a scream early the next morning.

"What in blazing hell are you doing here?" Hermione shrieked, scrambling as far away from him as she possibly could. It took him a few seconds to realise what exactly was happening, while the brunette (who he had shared a bed with just a few minutes ago) jumped up and frantically looked around the room, as if to check that she hadn't been burgled.

"You didn't take or…see anything, did you?" said Hermione, calmer this time. As she finished surveying the room, she began to survey herself. Draco laughed. She must think he tried to sleep with her or something. It was quite obvious that she had been so drunk yesterday that she didn't remember anything now, and that only made him chuckle all the more.

"You really don't remember anything do you?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, as her face turned pale. She swallowed. "Malfoy, tell me what I did before I jump off the building."

"Oh, nothing much," said Draco, with a smirk. "I found you drunk in the Leaky Cauldron. Being the gentleman that I am, I decided to take you home, instead of dropping you onto the nearest pervert on the streets."

There was no use in even trying to trust a man like Draco. She knew he was up to something. "Just tell me whether I did anything…out of character, okay? I only went out for a drink to get that slimy, smirking, brat out of my head and no, I don't mean you, Malfoy." She paused. "Although describing Hugh like that, he does sound remarkably like you."

She sighed and clutched her head in her hands. "There was a special offer on drinks yesterday, so I had a little too much. I should have remembered that I've never been too good with alcohol, especially magically enhanced alcohol."

Draco's smirk only widened. "As I was saying, I took you here and you insisted on me staying. I tried to leave but you shoved me down and trapped me on your bed. I was helpless, you understand."

Hermione looked as though she was about to vomit. "Please tell me I didn't do anything else."

It was clear by the redness of her face that she was getting more and more embarrassed by the second. With a wink that made her cheeks even rosier, Draco stood to leave and gave a heavy yawn. He looked at the window to see his reflection and smirked when he saw that not a hair was out of place.

"Well, I'll be leaving now – that is, if you let me. Oh, and another thing," he said cheerfully, opening the door. "Next time you want to compliment and have a feel of my bottom, please, make sure that I'm the one that's drunk."

Chuckling merrily, Draco closed the door behind him, knowing well that Hermione would be red for the rest of the morning, at least.

-

It was around six in the morning when Draco finally arrived home. He looked around and saw that no one was awake. Letting out a sigh of relief, he began to tiptoe towards the stairs, ready to hop into bed beside his wife and pretend that he had been there all the time.

"Not so fast."

The door to the living room slowly creaked open, revealing Hugh, resting in a plush red armchair with a glass of pixie-produced champagne resting comfortably in his right hand. He smirked and took a sip, his eyes glinting maliciously in the candlelight. Draco frowned, stepping into the living room and closing the door behind him – so as not to be heard.

"What do you want?" He asked. "I'd appreciate it if you could say whatever it is that you have to say. I'm exhausted as it is."

"I'm sure you are, with what mysterious activities you've been up to last night." Hugh remarked. "Pray tell me, father dear, where have you been all this time? I don't seem to remember you coming back last night after you crept out. Hmm, perhaps if I consulted mother I might get some answers? Or would you prefer it if she didn't hear about this?"

Draco looked at Hugh with displeasure. What did he want to do? Bribe him somehow, just so that his mother would not know about him not coming home? Lucius' will had stated that not only was Draco to wed Eudora, but he was to listen to every command, order and request that she had, as well as being at her beck and call. At the beginning of their arranged marriage, she had told Draco that he was not to be unfaithful, which meant that he was not only legally bound to her, but legally bound only to her.

"What do you want?" Draco muttered darkly. "More money?"

Hugh faked a look of innocence and stood. Draco despised the fact that Hugh was as tall as he. "More money? Why go to the bother of asking you when my mother would gladly give it to me anyway? No, I don't want your money. What I do want, however, is to see that lovely lady again, except this time, I don't want you or my mother to be there. To put it bluntly, I want a date with her, alone."

"Why so desperate, Hugh?" Draco asked, a smirk replacing the frown set on his face. "You've never been this desperate before when it comes to women."

"Just arrange something," grumbled Hugh, "if you don't want me to tell mother that you were in somebody else's bed yesterday. Even if you deny it, I can twist everything you say to my advantage. If there's no proof, then I'll make some proof."

Draco made sure that his expression was unfathomable as he thought silently. It was true (of course) that he had stayed all night with someone that was not his wife, but it was also true that nothing happened beyond a little drunken banter. However, he knew that Hugh had his mother twisted (contorted, in fact) around his little finger. There was no way that he could overpower Hugh, when it came to Eudora.

"Yes, yes, father." Hugh smirked. "You know that mother would trust me over anyone – even you. So let's think, if mother obeys me, and you must obey mother, then who has the upper hand?"

He paused. "So, what do you say?"

Draco's lip twitched in reply. He did not need to say anything for Hugh to know that he had won this round.

-

Almost desperately, he tried to think of some way out of the agreement. Really, he should have asked Hermione about this date with Hugh before that arrogant nitwit could make him promise anything. He pulled a face. Here he was, sat on a bench outside Flourish and Blotts, glaring at the passer-bys who happened to be looking in his direction. What was it with these people? Had they nothing better to do than stare at him? His eyes widened for a moment before he glared extra forcefully at a particularly evil looking child.

He had been preparing himself for whatever Hermione might throw at him (whether it be verbal abuse, or tons and tons of books) once he would tell her of her already arranged date with his stepson, when, upon entering Flourish and Blotts to find her, he had been told that she had taken a leave of absence for 'personal and unknown reasons'. Mortified, he had left feeling less than enthusiastic and had then come to the conclusion that he would find her in her home. However, he had only ever travelled to her home in darkness, and everything looked strikingly different in daylight.

As the particularly evil looking child passed and Draco's glaring ceased, he suddenly had an idea. It was the daylight that made him forget the location of Hermione's home, but there was nothing stopping him from waiting until it was night, to search for her house. Perhaps then he might actually remember where it was. He groaned as he looked at his watch and found that it was only two in the afternoon. It would take at least four hours before it would be dark.

Draco stood; his legs were beginning to numb from lack of movement. He decided to make his way towards the ice cream parlour, where he was sure his favourite waitress, Marie, would be ready to serve him his favourite ice cream; chocolate chip with extra mint. It was simply scrumptious – and the name almost rhymed as well.

All of a sudden he stopped as he saw three familiar faces. Sitting on the table almost directly in front of him was a woman with bushy brown hair (brushed neatly into a ponytail); a tall, lanky man with red hair; and an average looking man that would have looked like any other, if it were not for that unmistakeable lightning bolt scar. Hurriedly, he sat at a table nearby and hid himself behind the ice cream menu. He almost cried with glee, when he found just how easy it was to eavesdrop on the trio's conversation while in his current position.

"I still can't believe you, Hermione," said Ron, ladling another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, "working for Malfoy? Actually working for that filthy scumbag? It isn't like you can't get any other job that you wanted and you won't even tell us what exactly he's paying you for!"

"I told you before, Ron," said Hermione calmly, "this is classified information. I can't just go around telling anyone and everyone."

"But we're not just anyone!" said Harry, sounding slightly exasperated, "we're your friends. Who are we going to tell?"

"If I tell you, Harry, then you'll tell Ron."

"Hey! What's wrong with me knowing?"

"If you know, Ron, then you'll end up telling your wife."

Draco frowned from behind his menu. So, Weasley was married. He vaguely remembered meeting a little Weasley a while ago, which meant that he had at least one child as well. And what did he, Draco, have? An elderly wife who was inching ever closer towards her deathbed and a stepson that refused to value him. Well, wasn't that dandy.

"Even if I did tell her, what harm would come from that?" said Ron indignantly.

"Well, your wife will probably tell a 'trusting' friend, who will, in turn, tell another friend and so on," said Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione persisted. "And even though Harry has no children, you do Ron, and I know what your kids can be like, I've babysat them enough! Your son John is too young to know what to say so he just repeats everything he hears you say and your lovely daughter Beatrix will tell any passing stranger that happens to listen, because you and I both know how much she likes to talk. She has absolutely no idea what spreading news and gossip can do to a person. I'm sure that somehow, sooner or later, it'll reach the ears of a Daily Prophet reporter and before you know it the whole wizarding world will know!"

Hermione sighed and took a deep breath before continuing to eat her ice cream. From his hiding place, Draco could see that Ron's ears were burning a hot red. He sniggered quietly.

"You know, Trixy won't tell just any passing stranger…maybe just one that she feels like talking to." Ron said, failing to sound, or look, convincing.

"Hermione has got a pretty good point, Ron," said Harry. "Even if you told your wife privately, your kids will somehow find out anyway. Nothing secret ever remains a secret in your house, Ron. Nothing."

Ron was obviously unsatisfied with the direction in which the conversation was going. He didn't say a word and simply returned to eating his ice cream.

Draco sighed and began to ponder. Now that he had found her, how was he going to tell her about the date that she was to have with Hugh? It certainly wasn't going to be easy, what with her two 'bodyguards' around her. Perhaps he should wait until next time, or until she returned home, but then again, he had never been the type to wait for something. He much preferred going out there and grabbing it. After all, impatience was a virtue, as he frequently told himself.

"Mr Malfoy! Why, it is a pleasure to see you here again! It's been so long," said a waitress, smiling brightly, as she made her way hurriedly to Draco's side.

"Yes, yes, hello Marie," he said, praying to Merlin that she would not attract too much attention. That girl had a tendency to squeal unexpectedly. "I'd like the usual, thanks."

"Of course, Mr Malfoy! I'll get it right away!" Marie scurried away with a bright smile, as Draco returned to spying on the Gryffindor trio – that was, he would have, if they were still there.

"Ahem."

Draco turned around to find three pair of eyes, glaring down at him. He smirked. "Fancy seeing you here, Potter, Weasley, Granger."

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A/N: I hope that was okay. Please review if you have time and I hope that you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!