AN: So I know it's not Thursday, but I had all day off and am rather impatient. So here's the chapter early! You'll probably recognize it from the old version, but it's a little revamped and (hopefully) not as choppy. It really was just too funny for me to take out. See you all next week!

-..-

The atmosphere of the office was still, the only sound was the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the muffled footsteps of Draco's pacing. An empty glass of firewhiskey sat on the mantle with an equally empty bottle perched next to it. A thoroughly unimpressed Blaise lounged in the armchair across from the fire, more interested in the empty glass in his hand than his friend's plight.

"A tragedy," Blaise grumbled quietly.

"It's not a tragedy," Draco replied absentmindedly, still prowling from one side of the room to the other. "It's merely a complication."

Blaise rolled his eyes and laid his head back against the armchair. "Not everything is about you, Draco. I was talking about our more immediate problem: we're out of liquor."

Draco gave him a bland look. "I hardly think more liquor is going to help up solve my predicament."

"Us," Blaise echoed with a scoff. "I'm not drinking to help you, mate. I'm drinking so I can handle you and your dramatics."

"You're certainly one to talk about dramatics."

Ignoring the quip, Blaise lazily waved his wand and opened the liquor cabinet. The contents came floating out in single file, hovering past him and returning to the cabinet one after the other as he discarded them.

Draco resumed his pacing.

Woo me.

Hermione's words echoed through his mind, the phantom of a chill running down his spine at the memory of her breath in his ear, the enticing tone of her voice as she whispered those words to him. Wooing a woman was an art he had mastered long ago in his years at Hogwarts, at least he liked to believe he had. He prided himself in his ability to ensnare any female who caught his fancy, but this was Hermione Granger. The Gryffindor Princess and the Brightest Witch of Her Age. He might as well throw his entire book of gambits out his office window.

Blaise plucked a bottle of liquor from the air with a triumphant smile, but the smile fell when he heard a low growl come from the direction of Draco's pacing. He sighed, shook his head, and muttered, "Not strong enough." The bottle floated out of his grasp and went to join the others.

"It shouldn't be this difficult," Draco said. He ran frustrated fingers through his hair and caused the blond locks to stick up at odd angles.

"You're right," Blaise agreed. "It shouldn't be. You're one of the most desirable bachelors in England, second only to myself of course. Wooing a witch should be second nature to you, mate. Flirtations as easy as breathing. And yet," Blaise trailed off and threw a condescending look over to Draco, "here we are."

The corner of Draco's lip twitched in irritation. "You are the least helpful bloke I've ever met."

"I can't be useful all the time, it's bad for my image."

The room fell into silence once more as Draco lost himself in his thoughts. His mind raced with possibilities, each discarded more quickly than the last. Hermione was too unique for any of the usual methods to work. She would either be unimpressed or insulted and revoke his second chance. He would need something far more clever than any trick before and brilliantly romantic. His pacing halted mid step, foot held suspended in the air.

Tricks.

That's where he was going wrong. No mere trick would work because this was no fling to be sought after and then discarded. Draco resisted the urge to hit himself for his own stupidity. "By Salazar," he groaned and stuffed his fingers back into his hair.

Ignorant to his friend's revelation, Blaise finally contributed, "We could always call on Pansy to help. She's a witch."

Draco snorted at Blaise's brilliant observation and shook his head. Finished pacing, he made his way to the office window overlooking a small garden and said, "I would rather leave Pansy out of the loop on this one."

"If she's not already working out her own plan to help you."

He bit back a sigh at the truth of the statement. Leave it to Pansy to get overly involved. "Regardless, this is something that can be done without her assistance. I want calling on Pansy to be my absolute last resort. She meddles far too often for my liking." A sound near the fireplace drew Draco's attention, and he turned in time to see Blaise toss a handful of powder from his chair and the fire turn a brilliant green.

Blaise crooked a falsely apologetic smile at Draco. "Apologies in advance, mate."

Before Draco could protest, Blaise called out Pansy's name and the fireplace spit out the witch in question. Daintily dusting off her robes, Pansy surveyed the room.

"I hear my expertise in the wooing of women is required?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and resisted the urge to hit Blaise over the head with the nearest object. "Zabini," he growled.

Blaise just grinned and summoned a new bottle from the liquor cabinet, one that apparently met his preferences. "Your grumbling and pacing were giving me a migraine," he whined. "There's no decent liquor left, and I needed something to entertain me."

Draco plucked the bottle from Blaise's hand as he passed him and placed it heavily on the mantle. Ignoring Blaise's immediate protests, Draco turned to Pansy with his arms crossed over his chest. "While I appreciate you dropping in to help me, Pans, it really won't be necessary."

Pansy looked from Draco to a pouting Blaise to the bottle on the mantle and back again. She arched a single, dark brow at him and drawled, "Yes, I can see you have it very well handled."

"Yes, well." Draco waved his hands vaguely in the air as he attempted to find an excuse that would convince Pansy to leave.

"If you're going to be wooing a witch who more or less despised your very existence for nearly a decade, you are going to need all the help you can get." Pansy waved her wand to summon a wine glass which she quickly filled and moved to sit in the armchair across from Blaise. "You should begin simply."

Blaise immediately rolled his eyes. "Yes, because simple is going to work so well with her."

"Don't interrupt," Pansy snapped. "Especially with things you know little about."

Draco cut off what was sure to be an indignant rant about Blaise's wondrous ways with women and asked, "How simply are you proposing?"

Pansy hummed and swirled her wine glass thoughtfully. "Small gestures to begin with. They show you are putting in the effort and are thinking about her. Grand displays of affection will seem thoughtless and get you nowhere. Subtlety with meaning will go farther than empty theatrics."

"What are you going to do," Blaise asked sardonically. "Send her flowers?"

"Of course not," Pansy said defensively. "Flowers wouldn't be enough."

Draco let out a silent breath of relief. He was worried about involving Pansy and wary of whatever tricks she may come up with. "Flowers are far too overdone, Blaise."

Blaise scoffed, "Of course they are. That's why I assumed she would want to use them."

"And is that why you used them on Pamella in fifth year," Pansy retorted.

"It worked well enough on you when Rosier sent them to you in third year."

"I was acting, you oaf. I didn't want to hurt his delicate sensitivities before a quidditch match."

"Oh, because you've always cared so much for the illustrious sport, right, Pans?"

"You sound like a petulant child," she snapped. "Trying to use big words he heard the adults using in order to sound smart."

"If you consider 'illustrious' a big word, Parkinson, then your intelligence is even lower than I thought." Blaise put a hand to his chin in thought. "Is that even possible," he mused.

"It's possible, Zabini. Haven't you heard yourself? Your wit is as lacking as a confounded Hufflepuff first year."

Blaise gasped loudly and put a hand to his chest. "How dare you," he shouted. "You self-obsessed —"

"Oh I'm self-obsessed?"

"And egotistical!"

"Those are synonyms, you half-wit."

"Is that the best you can come up with?"

Blaise and Pansy were toe to toe spitting insults in each other's faces while Draco looked on from his spot leaned against the window frame. Having seen this behavior before, he was entirely unamused by their antics and unwilling to intervene.

"It's the only insult your little Italian brain can understand, darling."

"You can't use my Italian heritage as an insult, Pansy. It's a compliment."

"You're right, how foolish of me. It's the only insult your Gryffindor brain could comprehend. Is that better?"

"Oi!" Blaise shoved a finger in Pansy's face and snarled, "That's too far."

"Is it," she asked coyly. "After all, you are what you eat. Wasn't there a rumor about you and Finnegan going around?"

Blaise blanched, going pale despite his olive complexion. "I would never!"

"Never," Pansy asked with a sneer. "I didn't think you were capable of having standards."

"Says the one caught snogging Crabbe in fourth year," he retorted with a triumphant grin.

"That was a dare during Game Night," Pansy shrieked indignantly. "That doesn't count."

"Then neither do rumors!"

"They do if they're true."

"Enough," Draco snapped. He needed to end the argument before it came to blows. Those two had enough blackmail material for the conversation to go on for centuries as well as a notorious reputation for knock-down-drag-outs that used to send most of Slytherin house scurrying to their rooms. "What did you have in mind, Pansy."

—..—

Confusion was not often an emotion seen on the face of owls, but this particular bird was having a difficult night. Carrying a package nearly as large as himself, Hermes struggled through the night winds. His master had asked him to venture out in the dead of night and travel through the cold rain all the way to… What was the lady's name again?

Landing less than gracefully on a rooftop, Hermes ruffled his grey feathers and clicked his beak in irritation. His master would owe him many treats for this escapade. His yellow eyes gazed out over the rooftops, slowly inspecting each window through the rain, before a blue light caught his attention. He took flight once more and flew towards the window outlined in a deep blue glow - the magical beacon for his destination. Perching precariously on the wet windowsill while being mindful of the package gripped tightly in his talons, Hermes pecked sharply against the glass. When he wasn't immediately allowed inside, angry yellow eyes searched the room beyond.

Fairy lights were strung haphazardly across the ceiling, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. Books littered every available surface, some left open to important passages to be remembered and others bookmarked with various items. Curled up in the corner of the room and nearly swallowed by an overstuffed chair, Hermione sat quietly reading.

If owls could frown, this one did. Hermes beat his beak against the window again, this time with more gusto. Ignorant to the angry bundle of feathers dripping with rain outside her window, Hermione slowly turned the page of her book and continued reading. Irate at being left out in the rain, Hermes let out an ear piercing screech. The sound was so jarring that it caused Hermione to drop her book and swiftly draw her wand and take a defensive stance. Realizing the sound had come from a tiny, rain soaked owl, Hermione smiled at her own nerves and went to let the poor creature in.

A short tussle and several nips to Hermione's fingers later, and Hermes was bundled in a hand towel on the kitchen counter while Hermione nursed her wounds. She wondered at the look of simultaneous contentment and smug satisfaction on the owl's face before her attention was drawn to the package he had brought her. Hermione eyed the nondescript package with wary curiosity and opened the note attached to the top; the weather protection charms artfully attached to the package not escaping her notice.

"Hermione, please accept this gift as a step towards our second chance. - Draco"

Hermione allowed her eyes to wander over the note once or twice more, taking notice to the small nuances in his handwriting, before she eagerly opened the small gift. Removing the box's lid, her smile faded slightly. She sighed and muttered, "Oh dear." She turned from the gift at the sound of the front door opening and smiled when she saw Ginny. "Perfect timing, Gin. Come look at the gift I just received."

Ginny stepped into the kitchen and peaked over Hermione's shoulder at the small box of chocolates in her hands. "Who are they from?"

"Draco."

Ginny raised her brows in surprise and plucked a chocolate from the box. "Draco Malfoy sent you a box of chocolates."

Hermione shrugged and set the box down on the table. "I told him to woo him, and this was his first attempt."

"That's the most ridiculous gift he could have gotten you," Ginny managed to say through her boisterous laughter. "Your parents are teeth healers!"

"Dentists," Hermione corrected absentmindedly. She had explained her parents profession to Ginny numerous times through their years as friends, but the poor witch was never able to fully grasp the idea. Hermione smiled lightly at the gift and shook her head. It was a thoughtful gesture, but sweets had never held any appeal to her.

Ginny picked another chocolate from the box and popped it into her mouth. "He'll have to get to know you better first if he has any hope of making progress with his flirtations."

"I'll have to owl him," Hermione said. She grabbed a small handful of owl treats from a jar on her window sill and set them before Draco's owl which was looking thankfully less water logged. "I would return them but…" She glanced over her shoulder with an amused grin at the now half-empty box of chocolates.

Ginny shrugged and ate another chocolate. "I'll give him credit," she said around a mouthful of sweets. "He's got good taste."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny's lack of manners and went to retrieve her stationary from her desk. "It was sweet of him but still misinformed. Anyone who knows me knows I don't eat sweets, but I suppose you're correct. He doesn't know me yet." The 'yet' at the end of her sentence gave her hope. "At least he's chosen the subtle route."

"As opposed to?"

"Slytherins are rather well known for their dramatics. I was half-expecting him to pull some dramatic, public stunt that would have ultimately embarrassed us both. I have had more than my fair share of attention from the press, and would rather keep my face out of the papers. If Draco intends to vie for my affections, I would prefer he did it in a subtle and private manner."

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione's worst-case-scenario mentality. "Fair enough. What are you writing?"

"Just a quick note thanking him for the gift and informing him that I will unfortunately be unable to enjoy it."

—..—

"For fuck's sake."

Draco's exasperated shouting startled Blaise from his drunkenly sprawled position on what he now deemed to be his chair. "Whatsit?" He tried to sit up and rubbed at his face. Focusing on Draco's renewed pacing before the fireplace made him nauseous, so he dropped his head back down against the arm rest and groaned.

"She doesn't eat chocolate," Draco answered in astonishment.

Blaise blinked his eyes open and frowned. "Well thas jus inhuman."

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise and chastised, "Zabini, you're slurring your words already."

"Am not!" Blaise popped up in his chair indignantly. The intimidation in his glare was lost, however, when he swayed in his seat, his eyes struggling to focus on Draco.

Draco ran agitated fingers through his hair and stopped before the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and made a call to his more sober, and hopefully more helpful, friend. The flames burst to life with a vibrant green glow, and he knelt down before them. Unable to see her through the flames, Draco yelled, "Pansy, are you home?"

"What is it Draco?" Her voice carried from another room that was out of Draco's field of vision, and she sounded distinctly irritated. "I am rather busy."

He bit the inside of his cheek and said the one thing he knew would get her attention, "Blaise is drunk, and I need your help with Hermione."

There was a short pause, and then she entered the view of the flames at a brusque pace. "Move over," she demanded. "I'm coming through."

Pulling his head back out of the fireplace, Draco reassessed the mess that was Blaise. He was lounged across his favorite chair in the most undignified manner, head lolled back over one armrest and limbs sprawled haphazardly across the other, an empty wine glass tangling from the tips of his fingers. Draco shook his head and left Blaise to his drunken stupor.

"Blaise, you're looking more useless than usual," Pansy quipped announcing her arrival.

"She doesn't eat chocolates." Draco barely gave her any time to step out of the fireplace and brush herself off. "I'm back to square one."

"I told you we should do things my way," Blaise mumbled.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "That's the last thing we want to do." She read over the note Draco held out to her before handing it back to him. "So she doesn't eat chocolates, it's hardly the end of the world. There a thousands of other ways to woo a witch."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and bit back a frustrated growl. "She probably doesn't think I care, and that I'm not fully invested. I should have known she didn't eat chocolates, or at least had the thought to ask."

"She probably just thinks you're an idiot," Blaise chirped helpfully.

"You would be the authority on that subject," Pansy retorted.

Blaise raised his head to glare at Pansy. "If you would just let me try my idea," he whined. "It's a really good one."

"You can try next time," she lied sweetly.

Draco reclaimed her attention and asked, "What do you think I should do?"

She gazed thoughtfully into space for a moment before suggesting, "We could always go back to our first idea."

—..—

Hermione was startled awake by the most disgruntled owl sitting on her chest. Warily eying the aggressive expression it wore, she gently reached forward to move him off her chest and onto the back of the sofa she was laying on. Recognizing the owl from its visit earlier in the day, Hermione smiled sweetly at it and cooed, "Hello again, beautiful bird. Would you like some lunch?"

The owl cocked its head this way and that as if determining the worth of her offer. It hooted softly and flew up to perch on her shoulder. Its talons gripped her shirt firmly as she made her way into the kitchen.

She poured a bowl of bird feed for the owl and set it next to the perch she kept for mail owls. She was beginning to dig through her refrigerator for something to prepare for her own lunch when she paused. There was an owl in her kitchen, but what had the owl brought with it?

Hermione turned from the refrigerator and caught sight of an envelope on her kitchen counter. Glancing over it, she recognized Draco's handwriting and smiled.

"Perhaps this will be more to your liking. Tap the parchment twice - Draco"

Her smile grew as she tapped the corner of the note against her counter top. Leave it to Draco to use a gift as an opportunity to show off his magic. The parchment flew from her fingers and spun in the air a few inches from the counter top. There was a popping noise as the note vanished and was replaced by a vase filled with a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers.

"Oh dear." Hermione quickly covered her nose and jumped back, hitting the fridge and nearly toppling over in her rush to get away from the flowers. The damage was already done. Her chest tightened and her eyes burned as she fought against the inevitable.

"Ah - ah - achoo!"

—..—

"Son of a bitch!"

"Ha!" Blaise thrust his finger into Pansy's face. "I told you flowers were stupid!"

Pansy glared at Blaise and slowly moved his finger out of her face. "Astounding, Zabini. You managed to have an intelligent thought and remember it later. Who knew you were capable?"

"Ladies, could we focus on the issue at hand please?" Draco tried to interrupt their argument before it could gain any traction. "We've managed to find the one food she does not eat and the one flower she is allergic to. We are effectively back to square one without any other ideas." Draco crumpled up Hermione's most recent note and threw it into Blaise's face effectively distracting him from retaliating with Pansy.

A wicked smile lit Blaise's face. "Does that mean -"

"No." Draco's tone left no room for argument.

"But you said -"

"No," Pansy snapped. She glared at him to try and silence him, but their childhood either left him immune or oblivious.

"But Draco -"

"There has to be another idea, another move." Draco faced Pansy which effectively cut Blaise out of the conversation. "I could ask her to dinner?"

"She's probably afraid of receiving mail from you now." Pansy held her hand up against Blaise's mouth to silence his stream of protests.

"I could visit her at work."

"Far too public. She might have customers there."

"What if I —"

"Did you just lick my hand," Pansy screeched and wheeled on Blaise who looked far too smug. "You disgusting waste of magic! You imbecilic, narcissistic cretin! I should remove your tongue for that!"

Blaise waved his hand dismissively and said, "If you had listened to me the first time, I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures."

Pansy hissed, "What do you want?"

"Simply to say that it's taken care of."

Pansy and Draco went deathly still. The temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees, and Draco stared at Blaise with an uncomprehending gaze. "What do you mean," he asked slowly. "What is taken care of?"

Blaise looked smug, entirely unaware of the tension in the room. "You said I could try this time, so I took a crack at it."

Pansy took a quick step back, narrowly missing Draco's arm when he made a grab for the collar of Blaise's shirt. Blaise danced out of reach quickly with the faintest glimmer of dread blooming in his dark eyes. He was beginning to see the fury building in Draco.

"What did you do?" The icy threat dripping from Draco's voice sent a chill down Blaise's spine and caused him to swallow thickly, all sense of bravado vanishing.

"I had a plan," he explained quietly, "and it's already in motion." The final nail in his coffin. He glanced at the fireplace, but Pansy stood with a steely expression between him and his escape.

Draco's expression darkened. "Call it off."

"But it took me hours to train those doves," he protested weakly.

"Doves," Pansy said in horror. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did." She advanced towards Blaise with a pleading expression mingling with her outrage. "Please tell me you aren't as stupid as I think you are."

Blaise chuckled nervously and held his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture. "Now, Pans."

"Please," she said as she drew her wand, "tell me you actually listened to me for once when I told you that was easily the stupidest idea you have ever had."

"Explain," Draco demanded loudly. "What did you do, Zabini?"

Pansy's thunderous gaze remained fixed on Blaise. "Draco, I would suggest finding Hermione immediately. If you are quick enough, you might be able to stop them."

Blaise opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Pansy's raised wand.

"Run," she hissed.

And he did just that.

—..—

There is a feeling of horror that is usually experienced only a handful of times in a person's life. It sweeps the body with a hollow, numbing chill before exploding into the hottest rage. It's a full-bodied fear that causes the muscles to tense before being overwhelmed by a deep seated rage and humiliation. Hermione had experienced this type of horror exactly twice in her life, and this moment would unfortunately have to be added to the list.

She had been standing in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic discussing a new patent she was proposing, having managed to find the right Ministry employee just as he was leaving for the afternoon, when the most ungodly cacophony of noise harassed her senses. Twelve doves magically appeared in the middle of the atrium in an explosion of feathers and flower petals. They were carrying a massive heart built entirely of red and pink roses, the smell of which filled the atrium. The already horrific sight was only made worse when the doves opened their beaks and let out what Hermione assumed was supposed to be a song:

Hermione, oh Hermione

The loveliest sight are thee

Such beauty and radiance

My eyes ever did see

You set my heart aflutter

Whene'er you look my way

Please grant me the greatest pleasure

And join me for dinner today?

The song finally ended, and the dramatic harp music that had been playing in accompaniment with the singing reached a crescendo causing Hermione's already startled heartbeat to quicken even further. The doves flew directly over her head and rained down an absurd amount of rose petals and, to her mounting horror, glitter onto her head.

The silence that followed the doves magical disappearance caused Hermione's ears to ring. She could feel her face flushing warm and red underneath her now sparkling skin and wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear. Harsh whispers echoed through the atrium as the last few Ministry employees stopped to watch her public mortification. The room was silenced once more as the front doors of the Ministry were thrown open and thumped loudly against the Ministry walls.

Draco Malfoy stepped into the room and glanced anxiously around the room. When his eyes met hers, he froze.

The glitter in her hair and on her shoulders was illuminated by the atrium lights and caused her to glow. The blush on her face and barely contained tears in her eyes caused his heart to constrict painfully in his chest. Blaise may have put this in motion, but her embarrassment was his fault.

He opened his mouth to say something, apologize if he could, but he didn't get the chance.

Hermione apparated out of the room with a 'pop' so loud it echoed off the walls.