Author's note: Hello my lovelies! Happy new year! Thank you so much for all of your follows. I feel very humbled and grateful indeed to all of you. Special recognition will go to thatchick98 who was the first to follow my story, thank you! And another special shoutout to the first favourite-er (I know that's not a word) Annie0801. You guys are all amazing. Hopefully I will be able to keep you curious and still reading for a while yet. Your follows and favourites really have fuelled me on to finish this chapter as quick as I could. Enjoy this massive chapter (in my opinion, longer than many I have written before). Tell me what you think (if you feel up to it!).

Chapter 2

A Confidant

"This is ridiculous. It's stupid!"

After gathering her wits once more after that phone call Hermione, not trusting her phone, went to her floo and went to visit Ginny. She needed someone to talk to about this. And in any case the mystery man hadn't banned her from sharing. So, after rambling to Ginny she made that exclamation, flopping down onto the too-soft and almost lumpy mattress in the bedroom.

"What are you gonna do?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean? I said yes, didn't I?"

"Yeah but you can't possibly go through with it. Hermione, this is Malfoy! Not to mention you'd be committing a crime. You!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me remind you that I have broken a bunch of rules in my life and broken laws—"

"Death Eater laws at the time—"

"I'm not some swot, goody-two shoes okay?"

"I'm not saying that Hermione, but are you saying you're okay with this?"

"Of course I'm not okay with it I'm just saying…" she sighed. "Actually, I have no idea what I'm saying and I have no clue what I'm going to do. He's going to contact me again and if I don't do this… who knows what he will do to my parents?" She shook her head. "I can't really take that chance."

"But… It's Malfoy. That could take years," Ginny said.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence. Am I that hard to like?"

"Of course not Hermione, but Malfoy… he's more stubborn than you and he hated you back in school."

"People change…" Hermione said uncertainly. "I'm sure he took that into account, I mean our dislike of each other is fairly well-known. Ginny what will I do if I fail?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea. Maybe he has some kind of back-up plan?"

"So, either I manage to marry Malfoy, or else he hurts my parents somehow. And if I don't, he'll hurt my parents and Malfoy to get what he wants…. Ugh." Hermione buried her face in her hands.

Ginny rubbed the other's back. "We'll figure out something. And in any case, I'll help you through everything. Whatever you need I'll be here, alright?"

Hermione nodded, face still covered. There was a tap on the window, a tawny owl perched on the windowsill just outside with a letter in her beak. Ginny stood and fetched it, paying the owl for its trouble.

"It's a rental owl," Ginny said, sitting back down and looking at the letter. "Addressed to you."

Hermione took the letter hesitantly, trying to see something that might clue her to the identity of her blackmailer. Unfortunately, her name on the front was written in a computer and printed on the paper. As she opened it, her suspicions were confirmed, the whole letter was typed up in a computer.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked.

"Miss Granger," Hermione began, clearing her throat to steady her own nerves. "Tomorrow's the day. Seize the opportunity and be at 93 Charing Cross Road, inside The Cambridge at 17:30 precisely. Order a drink and stay at the bar. Do not attempt to leave before the target has arrived and if you leave alone there will be consequences." She shook her head. "Ginny, I can't do this."

"I don't think you can back out safely now. Look, we can probably figure this out between the two of us. You need to go tomorrow." Ginny grasped her hands. "I'm here for you through this."

"I don't know. I just don't know. I feel like I need to talk to more people, like Harry… but…"

"But you know he'll freak out and not only ban you from doing this and effectively endangering your parents, but he would also constantly badger you about it and want to know everything. We both remember how obsessed with Malfoy he was in sixth year, we don't need that again. At least, not yet."

Hermione smiled. "You read my mind, Gin."

"If this gets out of hand we can tell him."

"And if by some chance, we can't figure this out and I get in too deep?"

"Then we go to Harry and every other auror we knew for help."

"Right," Hermione said, looking back at the letter in her hand, feeling dread weigh it down.

"When you say get in too deep, you mean…?"

"I mean if I start to break down from stress and guilt because I'm going to be tricking someone that has always hated me into liking me, and all the while know that some mad-man is after him or at least his fortune." She folded the letter back carefully and held on tight, creases forming on the paper. "I think I should get going, before Harry gets home."

Ginny nodded. "Probably best. Keep me updated alright? If he sends you anything else, you tell me. You're not alone in this."

"Thanks Gin." They hugged for longer than usual and then Hermione floo'd back home.

Once home Hermione read and reread the letter over and over staring at the last words she hadn't read aloud to Ginny. At the end of the letter were the words:

Flirt.
Don't disappoint me.

Hermione dragged herself to her bathroom, her feet heavy and barely lifting on the way. Weighed down by the moral dilemma in her mind. Numbly she turned the knob and warm water streamed into her bathtub. Routinely she put the bath bomb in when it was almost full. She peeled off her clothing and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, locking it despite living alone simply out of habit. Touching her hand to the water first and next with a toe she leisurely sank down into the almost steaming water Trying very hard to relax, consciously thinking of calm oceans, relaxing sounds, anything to get her mind off everything. But every other minute the image of a serene beach at sunset would fade and images of her parents being tortured or hurt appeared in their stead. At last, Hermione gave up and accepted it. She would do it, she would try to get to know Malfoy, try to flirt. Merlin, she wasn't even sure if she knew how. Ron had said that her flirting was stilted. But wasn't that just her? She couldn't imagine ever being comfortable with flirting or feeling casual while trying to covertly tell someone you like them without actually saying it. She had never been much for the tip-toeing dance of social convention.

Her mind made up she pushed herself up to drain the water from the tub, watching it all swirl into the drain before turning on her shower and starting on cleaning her hair. If she was really going to do this she needed some sort of plan. Mostly just to ease her mind. Experience had taught her over and over that planning was usually pointless. Especially with so many variables, which always followed humans. Everything else could be predictable and easy to plan. But when it came to other people, they could be so unpredictable. She had no idea what to expect from Malfoy. Not having even seen him much since the battle she wasn't completely sure if he had changed at all. The Daily Prophet had made a few articles about his goings on after the war, just like with her life and pretty much everyone else's. He had spent maybe a week or two in Azkaban after the battle until the Wizengamot could decide what to do with him and then he got on probation, or house arrest. At some point, she recalled seeing a picture of him on the front of the paper when his father died and he had taken over his role as head of the family and even followed in his footsteps, inheriting the Malfoy Apothecary business and keeping it running.

Turning the water off and fetching a towel she decided to look it up, do some research. After drying off she grabbed baggy pyjama pants and a robe over, snuggling in her large armchair where she usually read but now with a stack of old copies of the Prophet. Coming in handy that she kept forgetting to throw them out. She kept a notebook tucked in the cushion and wrote in it if she found something interesting. Noting the day it was published and how it could be relevant. At around 3am Hermione felt thoroughly dirty again despite the shower. Snooping into another person's life like this didn't feel right. Finally setting everything aside and getting to bed she was still awake at 5am. Dozing off here and there but always waking up again she finally got up again when the clock read 11:30. Not wanting to sleep until noon she got up and ready. Although she didn't have to physically show up at work today she would anyway, to have something to do until five. Maybe distract herself.

Soon she hit a snag though, opening her wardrobe she couldn't decide what to wear. The word 'flirt' jumping around the walls of her thoughts, irking her. She didn't feel very sexy, sleep deprived maybe, but not sexy. None of her clothes were very sexy in any case. Sure, she had a few pencil skirts but hardly ever wore them. They weren't very practical, and in any case not the professional look she aimed for at work. A dress might be too much. She did own a few, but they were really fancy. Dresses she had worn at Ministry gatherings and banquets. Sighing she pulled on her favourite jeans and a shirt, then sent Ginny a message on her phone, asking for advice. Her reply was to go shopping after noon and before five. So, Hermione grabbed an apple before flooing in to work.

The comfortable thing about the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was you could do most of your work from home. She didn't have to go to her office every day. She didn't have to push through the crowds of people coming out of the fireplaces at the Ministry in the mornings during the most foot-traffic. Unless there was a special case, something that needed immediate seeing to, she could just stay at home in her comfy little study, doing things at her own pace.

Hermione greeted her co-workers on her way to her booth, although she didn't exactly have her own office it was secluded. Small but private in a way. Everything was as she had left it but feeling paranoid she checked all the drawers on her desk. Nothing out of the ordinary. She finished off some paperwork until she had to meet Ginny. Time flew away from her though and by no time Ginny had come to her office to pick her up. They made their way to Diagon Alley to do some shopping. Because the place she was going to was just outside the Leaky Cauldron at the muggle side it would be a short distance to go after their shopping trip.

Hermione didn't know what she would do without Ginny. The girl somehow managed to be up-beat and positive throughout everything. Hermione couldn't see one piece of clothing that interested her in the shops they entered, but Ginny could find ten dresses, four skirts and six tops for Hermione to try on. Despite her negativity, and overall sullen mood, Hermione did manage to enjoy herself a little bit whenever Ginny made her laugh and snuck in some ridiculous garment here and there for them to laugh at. In the end Ginny had somehow influenced her to buy a cocktail dress, something she never would have bought on her own. Blue and flowing, reminiscent of her periwinkle dress from fourth year. The dress wasn't revealing per ce, but it definitely accommodated her cleavage more than she was used to. Thankfully though, Ginny had been very understanding of Hermione's comfort zone, never taking anything strapless or open-backed or split at the front.

Five o'clock came around in a flash and Hermione was allowed to walk out of the store in the dress and some new shoes Ginny had picked out for her. The heels clicked on the cobblestones as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny took Hermione's clothes and promised to give them back to her tomorrow when she came over. Not to mention she let Hermione borrow her purse, it was small and cute, holding her phone, keys and lipstick that Ginny also recommended she buy. Where would she be without her?

Going their separate ways Hermione went out to the streets of muggle London and walked confidently down the street towards the Cambridge. The outside of the building was fancy, gold letters on black walls, a message board with the menu and wine list outside. It looked too fancy for her to just walk in without any reservation or anything. So, holding tightly to the strap of her purse she stepped in and immediately asked the first waiter she saw about the restroom, quickly saying that her date would be here any second and she hadn't had time to touch up her make-up. The waiter was very sympathetic and walked her to the door to the restroom and wished her good luck.

Fishing some hairpins out of her bag, or Ginny's, she tried to tame her hair, pulling the front and fastening it in the back. Next up was the lipstick. Ripping off the plastic wrapped around it she popped off the lid and screwed it up. It was very red. Steeling her nerves she applied it, hearing Ginny's forceful voice in her head that it would look good. Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and felt like she was lying to herself. This wasn't her. The woman in the mirror, standing there with her hair back, red lipstick and blue dress. This was someone she had never been. A girl that went to bars, that dated, that flirted with men. It wasn't her scene, she didn't feel comfortable. It saddened her to feel so out of place.

She went back out and the clock on the wall above the bar read 17:20. She couldn't back out now. So, going up to the bar she asked for a glass of water first, but then afraid that might not be good enough for his demand of "ordering a drink" she settled for a pint of butterbeer.

Hermione waited.

17:30 came and went.

She sat on the barstool holding her half-finished glass of butterbeer, her second, watching the entrance every three minutes.

At ten minutes past six Hermione wondered if this had only been a test to see if she would do what he asked. Irritated she finished her drink and slammed it on the table. Effectively jolting a young couple beside her. She mumbled a quiet 'sorry' before waving the barkeep over so she could pay for her drinks.

Just as she handed him the muggle money for her drinks a door to her left was opened and three men clad in suits stepped out of a private room, escorted by a waiter. One of them was Draco Malfoy. His suit crease-free and immaculately neat he was the epitome of debonair. Standing tall with his back straight he spoke with the other two men before they departed. Hermione felt frozen in place, then hurriedly shook it off, flagging the bartended back to her.

"Actually, I think I'll have one more."

Daring a glance back to where Malfoy had been she saw that he was now coming to the bar. She quickly turned forward just as the bartender put the glass down in front of her. The mounting nerves in her stomach taking over, she grabbed it and gulped down three large sips of the butterbeer. Liquid courage, she thought, liquid courage.

"Rob," Malfoy said, waving to the bartender in front of her, leaning over the counter to her immediate left. Standing so close to her she could smell his cologne. "Remember to send the check straight to the Frank." He handed the bartender a slip of paper, a banknote. "You have my appointment for next week?"

"Yes, mr Malfoy."

"Good man."

"Cheers," Rob the bartender said and Malfoy nodded his head.

Frantic, thinking that she had to get his attention somehow or this would all be pointless she quickly waved, trying to seem nonchalant while doing it too, and forced her voice to be calm and casual.

"Sorry," she said to the bartender again. "How much is this again?" Hermione couldn't hear his answer though because she was acutely aware that Malfoy had seen her and was now staring. "Thank you."

Why wasn't he saying anything? Hermione sipped her butterbeer, staring straight ahead, not daring to move or breathe really with him standing right there and still staring at her. Was he waiting for her to notice him? Waiting for her to make the first move? Damn him. At last she looked toward him, and making as if she had only been casually looking to the side did a double take.

"Malfoy?" She hoped her acting wasn't as bad as it sounded to her own ears.

"Granger," he acknowledged, and Hermione clearly saw him look her up and down. "Long time no see."

She nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"I do business here once in a while."

"In muggle London?"

He smirked and for a moment his face transformed back into the sixteen-year-old boy that used to taunt her and her friends on a daily basis. "Muggle customers."

"Oh." Feeling awkward she took another sip from her butterbeer, glad that she had ordered a new one so she would have something to do with her hands.

"What are you up to now? Still saving the world with Potter?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not exactly. I work in the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry."

"Oh, right. I remember your free the house-elves epidemic back at school. Spit or stew, was it?"

Hermione pursed her lips, her fingers tightening on the glass. "It was S.P.E.W." she really did try to keep the irritation in her voice minimal. "But yes, it's that kind of work, though not exactly."

He nodded, "Can't imagine you knit many hats when you go to work."

She paused, pushing down the ire in her belly. "No."

"May I sit?" He sat down before she could answer and gestured to Rob the bartender who in no time at all, handed him a glass of what looked like brandy. All without uttering a word, he must come here often.

Hermione supposed she should try to keep the conversation going. "What about you?"

"I'm overseeing my family's apothecary business. Mostly trades and sales. We've expanded though into the muggle world and have more to offer than just wine."

"I didn't know your business involved wine."

"Yes, my family has been making wine for centuries. That's why it's so sought after, because it's so old and valuable." He waved his hand dismissively. "Or some shite like that. I'm not much for that so I extended it to potion making as well, one of my expertise."

Hermione nodded. "Right." Remembering that he had one of the highest marks in potions, always a bit higher than her of course, although she had always thought that was because of Snape's favouritism.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"I already told you," Hermione began.

"No, no, I mean here. Why are you here, now?" Malfoy asked.

"Oh," she said and hesitated. What was she doing here? What could she say she was doing. The only thing she could think of was to say a date, but that would probably scare him off. "Well," she started slowly, gathering her thoughts. "I was supposed to meet someone for a date but…" she looked around for effect. "It seems I have been stood up." A decisive nod of her head and then a big gulp of her butterbeer sold it.

He chuckled. Man it was weird sitting next to Draco Malfoy at a bar and hearing him laugh good-naturedly at something she said. Not at her, but with her. So strange.

"His loss, I'm sure," Malfoy said before downing his drink.

Hermione simply nodded, unsure what to do now or say. Some inkling at the back of her head reminded her of the word flirt, and she realised that what he had just said was a flirtatious line. She should flirt back somehow. First, she needed to figure out how. Malfoy gestured to his glass for a refill and got it.

"Long day?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "No longer than most." He took a generous swig of his drink, sucked air through his teeth before setting the tumbler back down. "But talking to people all day can take its toll. Especially if those people are idiots."

Hermione laughed, it was forced yes, but the sentiment was genuine to an extent. That was still an arrogant thing to say and disrespectful in her opinion. But that wasn't something she should say now.

"Luckily I don't interact with people a lot in my line of work. It's mostly paperwork at the moment for me."

"Lucky you," he said.

"Yes, lucky me." Hermione deliberately kept his gaze for a few more seconds than she should have and then sipped from her butterbeer, keeping eye-contact before she had to lean her head back. She hoped that she wasn't horrible at this flirting thing. It felt like the right thing to do.

"Actually," Malfoy said after taking another swig of his drink. "I was heading out."

"Oh," she said. Thinking that she had ruined this with her "stilted flirting." Maybe she should get advice from Ginny. Not that she had a lot of experience with flirting either. "Alright, well I didn't mean to keep you I was—" she started rambling, but he cut her off.

"Would you like to join me?"

"W-what?" Hermione was so shocked. Was he… no… yes? But what did that mean though? Was there some social subtext that she didn't know about? Maybe, laced into that question, there was a proposal for sex, or a date. Maybe he just wanted to catch up and it was completely innocent. She really needed to get help from someone with experience in this.

His smirk was back. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Hermione, swallowing the lump in her throat managed to croak out a yes before swallowing the rest of her butterbeer. As she stood and reached her hand in her purse he held out his to stop her.

"No, no, it's on me. Rob," he said to the bartender. "Put it on my tab."

"Yes, mr Malfoy."

"You really don't have to do that, I can pay for my own drinks."

"I never said you couldn't."

They exited the place side by side and walked along the sidewalk. Hermione had no idea where they were going and felt the nerves taking hold of her entire being. She felt her legs stiffen up, the cold air outside not helping. Each step was excruciating and not because of her heels (though they did feel uncomfortably tight), but because of her overthinking. Where was he taking her? What would he do once they got there? Could she even trust him? What had she been thinking?

Without noticing he steered her into an alley between two buildings and held out his hand. Hermione jolted from her thoughts, her wide eyes scanning her surroundings, feeling very much like a trapped animal.

Again, he chuckled. "Side-along apparition," was all he said, moving his hand again in front of her for her to take.

Merlin help me, she thought before taking his hand. The air sucked and pulled around them and they were gone.

Author's note: Here is a link to the dress, I did a random google search and found a dress I liked and this is what I imagined. Of course you are free to use your own imaginations!

The Cambridge actually exists! I have never been there and only used it as a reference because I don't like making up places and I feel sometimes stories need a feel of authenticity. Of course this is a fiction so the inside of the place is completely made up, and all of these events. ;) . /restaurants/london/thecambridgecambridgecircuslondon/findus