~eight~

Draco stood in his old bedroom at the manor, checking his reflection in the long mirror of his heavily polished mahogany armoire and adjusting his bowtie. It had been a long time since he had worn dress robes and he craned his neck from side to side as he fingered his collar to stretch it slightly around his neck. He looked at his reflection and took in the familiar figure of the old Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, pristinely dressed and oozing aristocratic confidence. It was a reflection that Draco hadn't seen in quite some time. Six months had already passed since that fateful evening back at the flat and Draco's life had dramatically changed since then.

He had of course, found himself in huge trouble at St Mungo's for his actions that night. He had been immediately called into Dean Sinclair's office on the Monday morning. His mother had insisted on accompanying him, and he had been far from surprised to see Justin's father sitting at the far end of the table when they had arrived, having already shared the news of the weekend's events. Justin had predictably not been in attendance, as he was occupying a bed on the ward for indeterminably powerful hexes and curses, five floors below.

Draco had noted how the Dr Sinclair had seemingly tried to give Draco the benefit of the doubt, ensuring that he had ample opportunity to give his own side of the story. But it just so happened, that Draco's own, honest version of the story wasn't really that dissimilar to the account given by Justin, apart from the small detail that the attack wasn't entirely unprovoked, as Justin had put it in his statement. Draco explained what had caused him to act so impulsively, stating how Justin had mistreated Hermione and how his derogatory name calling had spiked his anger.

Narcissa had then spoke up for her son, using all her charms and calm articulation to urge the Dean to empathise with Draco and his impulsive reaction to protect the honour of his friend. She reminded him how Draco had not put a single foot out of line until that point and that his grades were of the highest calibre.

Justin's father had harrumphed loudly at this point, insisting this was 'utter poppycock' and demanding justice be served. He reminded the Dean that he and his wife had never wanted their son to be accommodated with this war criminal in the first place, and that the hospital should have known something like this would happen.

The Dean had removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose in anguish as he had dealt out the inevitable outcome. He spoke with sympathy for Draco and acknowledged he had been an exemplary student (again with further snorts of derision from Mr Fletchley), but nevertheless had to conclude that as noble as Draco's actions seemed, he had attacked a fellow student and left him with life altering, albeit temporary consequences and had completely broken the bonds of good behaviour on which his place on the healership course had been made. And so it was with grave disappointment that Dean Sinclair had excluded Draco with immediate effect.

Draco had accepted his fate calmly, and had immediately turned his attentions to wider interests. It turned out that being kicked off the healer training course had given him the push he needed to pursue his very real but albeit somewhat risky dream, and he had very recently opened "Vinyl Resting Place" - Diagon Alley's first music store - specialising in muggle music and vinyl records in particular.

He had made lots of contacts and had found a way to magically adapt the muggle electronics so that they would work magically and within magical bounds. The ability for the music to be taken into Hogwarts had resulted in his small business rapidly becoming a big hit with the students who more and more often enjoyed and eclectic mix of muggle pop culture with more traditional wizarding ones.

Draco quickly realised that most teenagers were quick to overlook his past if it meant them keeping up with the latest school trend, and this had caused him to already begin thinking of expanding his business to a premises in Hogsmeade to capture his main customer base more directly.

He had also made sure his shop included a small lounge area where customers could sit and listen to their music and actively encouraged them to 'try before you buy'. Draco openly poached Loxey from his parents' employ to serve a small selection of hot and cold drinks, and the little elf ensured that there was always an ample supply of cakes, biscuits and pastries to serve, which were proving incredibly popular.

Theo and Blaise could often be found sitting in the corner, munching biscuits and listening to music through the large muggle headphones that Draco provided. He found it most amusing to see them sitting there, bobbing their heads up and down to the music, as though it was the most normal thing in the world!

"Wow, Zabini. What the hell happened to you? If your younger self could see you now…" he taunted his friend with his own words, much to his chagrin.

His shop in Diagon Alley had a simple dwelling upstairs which suited Draco perfectly. The easy access into muggle London via The Leaky Cauldron gave him easy means to meet up with suppliers and to keep up to date with the music scene beyond the magical world, and he found himself become more and more confident in slipping into 'muggle mode' when moving from one world to the next.

In the last six months, Draco had kept a close eye on the Daily Prophet, as he was sure that Justin and his family would go selling their story of Justin's plight at the hands of the evil ex-death eater to supplement the already large sum of compensation that Draco had been ordered to pay to the family and towards the healing costs.

The story never surfaced however, and Draco came to learn that Justin had vehemently wanted to avoid the nature of his predicament becoming publicly known, especially as the effects of the hex itself had lasted for twelve weeks and into the new year, such was the anger with which Draco had administered it. Theo had gleefully reminded Draco of this fact when Draco had invited him over to the manor for Boxing Night dinner.

"Ah yes. That reminds me. I do wonder how old Flinchley's getting along now?" Theo had asked with faux concern, just after Loxey had levitated a platter of sizzling, miniature pigs in blankets on to the Christmas table.

Theo had speared one of the dainty sausages with his fork and looked around the table at the Malfoys with a wicked grin on his face causing Draco to burst into uncontrollable laughter, and he was sure he had seen a glimmer of amusement fly across his father's face as his mother had coughed uncontrollably into her napkin.

Draco had been most concerned that he had not seen or heard from Hermione at all after the incident. His owls remained not responded to, and he was longing to see her and to check that she was ok and had forgiven him for his ungentlemanly behaviour that night. He soon learnt that upon breaking up with Justin, she had taken the Ministry up on an offer to go and work abroad on a muggle relations project in France for a few months. It gave him some hope that at least she wasn't purposefully avoiding him due to feeling uncomfortable about that kiss.

And - bloody hell, what a kiss it had been! Draco had often found himself reliving how amazing Hermione Granger had felt and tasted as she had pressed herself up against him that night. He may have been drunk, but he could remember that part of the evening as clear as though it had happened that day. The thought of it had got him through many a shower or lonesome evening back at his new flat and he could feel the stirring effects it had on him as he thought about her again as he was readying himself for his mother's spring gala that evening.

Hermione was going to be there that night of course, having assisted his mother so graciously. Draco was anxious about just how awkward their first encounter was going to be, given the circumstance of their last meeting and the very fact that the thought of her alone lately, left him in a most unbecoming state of excitement.

Adjusting himself subtly and casting a cooling charm to keep his stirring loins in check, Draco made his way through the manor to join his parents who were already in position and greeting their guests at the entrance of the grand, cream marquee that had been set up in the manor's grounds.

The garden had been bedecked with little jars of glittering light charms, that floated magically above the flower beds that were full of Spring blooms, and the fountains were lit in way that made them sparkle and glimmer as the water cascaded down with a cheerful splash.

There was a hint of Spring warmth in the air and music was drifting outside from a string quartet inside the tent. Draco, sensing that it was going to be a rather special night, braced himself for the evening ahead, full of anticipation at reconnecting with Hermione again after such a long time spent apart.