"You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer."

The weeks following the house party were fairly routine for Hermione. She was happy to leave the rarified air of Nott house for the familiar round of flat, work, dinner with Harry and Ginny, running in the park, Sunday meal with the Weasleys, rinse and repeat. Everything went back to normal except for one disturbing thing—she kept seeing Draco Malfoy.

Just in random encounters—across the road in Diagon Alley or in a cafe where they were both having lunch with other groups. She'd have sworn she'd seen his fair hair in the stacks at the central library, although when she went to stealthily investigate, she didn't find him. After their last encounter at Nott House, she didn't have the desire to approach him and he never acknowledged her beyond a casual nod, but she still felt it was odd.

She'd never used to see him at all—the first time they'd been in any sort of proximity in years was that networking reception. Had they been shadowing each other before and she'd just not noticed? Was she now attuned to his presence somehow? She shrugged that thought off as daft and told herself that wizarding London was a very small world—after all, she'd seen Daphne in the market and avoided Pansy at a cocktail bar since the house party weekend—so maybe it was just coincidence.

Then one day she literally ran into Malfoy in the lobby of the Ministry. She'd had her head down studying a file as she exited a lift and he'd been looking over his shoulder as he went to enter it. She stumbled backwards and he reached out to steady her, grabbing hold of her forearms and pulling her away from the closing lift doors. They locked eyes and the moment of surprise was so great that they stayed close for a beat, just staring at each other from a few inches away. She'd have sworn that his eyes darted down to her mouth and she knew that a flush was creeping up her neck.

Then they both snapped out of it and stiffly tried to apologise at the same time. She'd smiled uncomfortably and he'd gone silent, but continued to look at her with an intensity that she couldn't tell stemmed from dislike or … she pushed the thought away—she was almost certain it wouldn't be anything other than dislike, considering their last interaction.

They'd made about thirty seconds of cool small talk - enough to establish that they were both well and that he was at the ministry to advise a committee—and then gone their separate ways. But Hermione couldn't stop thinking about the encounter and about her reaction to him, which was distressing to say the least. She didn't like Malfoy—she never had—and he certainly hadn't improved upon recent acquaintance—so why did her heartbeat and temperature increase just because he looked at her and touched her for three seconds? Annoying.

Even more annoying was opening the Daily Prophet the next day and seeing pictures of the encounter in the gossip section. "OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" she yelled.

That waste of space, Rita Skeeter, must have been haunting the lobby with her photographer again. She often did on a slow news day, hoping to catch the odd pairing she could speculate about, or someone coming in slightly tipsy from a boozy lunch that she could rake over the coals.

Malfoy was a beloved topic of hers and she often featured photos of him with breathless copy about 'the wizarding world's reformed bad boy'. In fact, Hermione and Ginny had quite enjoyed snickering over said entries in the past.

And now there were two photos of him and Hermione in the Prophet Insider column under the header, 'Opposites Attract! Gryffindor Golden Girl Snags (or SNOGS!) Prince of Slytherin?'

Hermione put her head in her hands before forcing herself to look. The first snap must have been taken just as Malfoy pulled her forward from the lift doors. The angle made his hands look less like they were grabbing and more like they were caressing. She stepped forward and then appeared to look down coyly (at her PAPERS—but of course that was cut out) as he pulled her to him, bending his neck in a gesture that looked protective and intimate.

Skeeter must have employed a spell to reduce the speed of the action because it looked slow and playful, when Hermione knew it had been fairly abrupt. The next snap was half a second later when they were staring at each other—her face turned up and his bent to hers. There was barely any movement to this one, they just seemed to sway toward each other. Suffice to say that the intensity she'd felt in the moment carried through loud and clear on film. It looked for all the world like he was about to kiss her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity FUCK! I'm going to KILL her!" Hermione pounded the table for emphasis. Ginny heard the disturbance and came out of the bathroom.

"What the hell?" she asked, mascara wand in one hand. Hermione shoved the paper toward her. Ginny took it in and gave a long, low whistle. Then she looked at Hermione with her eyebrows raised.

"Oh for fuck's… He ran into me and I stumbled! He reached out to right me and we overcorrected!"

"And then stared at each other for several moments like he wanted to throw you up against that elevator door and you wanted to let him?"

"It was the camera angle! And the editing!"

"Nope," said Ginny. "You can't fake chemistry like that. I would lay 20 golden galleons down that he wants to fuck you so badly he can taste it." Her raised eyebrows and smug expression clearly telegraphed the fact that she thought Hermione would also be a willing participant, although she was wise enough not to say that out loud.

"Ginny!" God, Hermione could feel her face heating. "I told you how we got along at the house party. He told me I was tedious—or at least my clothes were tedious. We basically had a shouting match in the library! I'm sure he still sees me as a boorish, unattractive muggle plebe. And I certainly still see him as a rude, poncy ass."

"Doesn't matter," said Ginny with a smug grin. "In fact verbal sparring and outward displays of dislike are classic precursors to ravenous fucking. And I highly doubt he thinks you're unattractive. I also didn't hear you say you think he's unattractive. And you went beet red when I brought up the fact that he wants to fuck you."

"STOP SAYING THAT! He does NOT! And he's not attractive! He's repellent! … His background and some of his opinions are repellent..." she said more quietly. "Just because he's clever and has interesting hobbies," she muttered.

"And his physical attractions?"

Hermione groaned. "Why do I ever talk to you?" she asked, flipping the paper into the fire grate and flouncing out of the kitchen.

Ginny's laugh followed her down the hallway. "That was an answer, you know! And you talk to me because you love me! … And because I tell you the truth!"

Hermione slammed her bedroom door, then leaned against it with a sigh.

~oOo~

Sitting in her office later, Hermione was ostensibly working, but in actuality brooding about the photos when an absolutely gorgeous Eagle owl suddenly appeared at her window. She opened the owl pane and accepted a small rolled parchment from its elegantly offered foot, giving the tawny bird a pellet from the bowl on her desk before it flew away. She unrolled the paper, immediately aware that it was of very fine quality. There was a short note centered in the middle of the page and the handwriting was precise, bold and unfamiliar;

Dear Hermione,

Please accept my apologies for the misleading photos in today's Daily Prophet. I should have been more careful. Incidentally, I've instructed Skeeter to publish a retraction and it will be in tomorrow's column. I again apologise for any embarrassment or discomfort this may have caused you.

Regards,
DM

Hermione sat with her mouth hanging open—then re-read the letter several times. Different emotions washed over her, among them utter surprise, gratitude, relief and a sort of deflated feeling that she didn't particularly want to examine.

What did he mean 'he should have been more careful'? Did he know Skeeter was following him? Or was he talking about their physical collision? Or did he mean careful about what he had revealed to the camera during the encounter? And how was he able to 'instruct' Skeeter!? Did he have some controlling interest in the Daily Prophet?

Hermione felt confused on many levels, but the question that rose most persistently was, why? Why did he do this? Was it really for her, to alleviate her discomfort? Or was he embarrassed to be seen in an intimate position with her and eager to preserve his reputation?

After ruminating for a good while, she came to the conclusion that she'd never really know the answers—unless she interrogated Malfoy himself, which was NOT going to happen. The only thing to do was put the entire incident out of her mind. She'd thank him casually the next time she saw him and treat it like a silly joke with everyone else. She'd have to deal with Ginny of course, but she could at least be trusted to keep quiet.

Hermione stroked the lovely paper. She couldn't deny that it pleased her somehow that he'd taken the care to write to her —and to apologize even though it wasn't really his fault. She briefly contemplated writing him a thank you note, but decided that would be overdoing it. Her original instinct to play it off casually was best.

She'd thank him the next time she saw him, likely at Theo's party in a few weeks. She, Ginny and Harry had finally accepted invitations and, she realised with surprise, she had actually begun to tentatively look forward to it.