"Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him."

Hermione walked briskly down the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, looking for the restaurant name Harry had told her this morning. She was headed to another investor event—this one a dinner with the group that Fred and George had found. Harry had asked her to come along because, although he was optimistic about a large investment from Theo, he still needed to secure at least three or four more sizable partners. Of course she had agreed, but not without some reluctance.

Aside from just not liking these sort of professional/socialising affairs, she'd finally taken a deeper look at Harry's numbers and realised they needed work. She'd explained her concerns to him and to Ginny, and both acknowledged them, but seemed to think she was being over-conservative and that any problems or shortfalls would be solved through a combination of PR and the right connections. Hermione believed they were being over-optimistic, but there wasn't much more she could say.

So, she felt distinctly unenthusiastic as she finally arrived, about fifteen minutes late, to the restaurant. Everyone had already been seated at a long, private table and she found herself at the end, her closest dining companion a man who looked a bit younger than the rest of the group. She sat down next to him and he smiled as he rose in welcome, then blinked as she saw that he was dazzlingly handsome—tall with curling dark hair and a striking blue gaze. His smile was roguish and friendly at the same time.

"Jack Wickham," he said, helping her into her chair and holding out his hand.

Hermione actually felt her eyelids batting as she said hello in an uncharacteristically stammering way. Maybe this dinner won't be so bad after all, she thought as she took in Wickham's broad shoulders and full lips, as well as the lively intelligence in his eyes.

She was right. Jack Wickham proved to be more than a pretty face, ('and body', her brain noted) but also a charming companion. They developed an instant, playful rapport and she found herself laughing much of the night. Dinner flew by as he regaled her with tales of living in America, where he had been since before the war, as well as his impressions of being back in England after so long. She was captivated by his mix of American twang and English drawl and was already teasing him about it before the meal was through.

Wickham also proved to be an attentive listener, asking about her work and interests and paying close attention to her answers. Hermione felt bathed in a glow of attention all night—and it certainly didn't hurt that it was coming from such a gorgeous man. Although she couldn't help but notice that Wickham was a flirt who seemed to draw women to him. The waitress, and even Ginny, were not immune to his charms—many feminine giggles could be heard around the table. And Ginny kept wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Hermione when no one was looking.

Ron also seemed to be taken with Wickham and came over after the pudding to speak with him about a business venture Jack had run in America. Hermione gave him her seat and went to sit with Ginny for a moment. The covert squeeing immediately began.

"OhmygodheissofuckingHOT," Ginny yell-whispered behind her hand as soon as Hermione sat down.

"Calm down!" Hermione laughed. "Harry is sitting right there."

"Oh you know what I mean!" Ginny smacked her on the arm. "So are you going home with him tonight? Please tell me you are. Please tell me you are at least trying to pull that."

Hermione laughed again and told her friend she was crazy.

"You didn't say no! That was NOT a 'no'!" yelled Ginny, punching the air.

"Shhhh, you lunatic. Keep it down," Hermione hissed out of the corner of her mouth while shooting Ginny a killing look. "You are cut off. No more wine."

Ginny stuck out her tongue and very deliberately refilled her glass. "So we're going out after this of course. Ron knows a place nearby. I want to give you every opportunity to get drunk and make a beautiful mistake with that beautiful man."

"Why a mistake?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Wellll, the guys told Harry that Wickham's a bit of a flirt. Apparently has women coming out of his ears. And he's looking for a 'sugar mama', as Fred called it. BUT that doesn't mean you can't use him and abuse him. Just keep your head in it and don't get attached."

"Hmmm," said Hermione, wincing. "Don't love the sound of that." Ginny groaned and dropped her head on the table. Hermione pulled her up, "Look, you know I don't mind a bit of fun, but I don't particularly like the idea of being nothing but a notch in someone's bedpost." For some irritating reason Draco Malfoy popped into her head at that moment.

Then she happened to look up and see Wickham and the waitress having a little … exchange. Ron had buggered off somewhere and Wickham was standing very close to the young witch, speaking quietly into her ear. Hermione kept her gaze averted, but watched them out of the corner of her eye. When he pulled away, the waitress pressed something into his hand and he gave her a quick grin before pocketing it.

"Ah," thought Hermione, officially reassigning Wickham from the, 'maybe has potential' category to the 'ok to flirt with, not ok to sleep with' category.

Ginny saw the whole thing too and sighed. "Another one bites the dust. Damnit."

"Don't worry, darling, we'll still go out. And I'll still flirt with him if it makes you happy. Do you fancy a bottle of champagne? I do!" Hermione chirped as they gathered their things, strangely unmoved by the fact that Wickham wasn't going to be a runner after all.

Her spirits were high as the group spilled out of the restaurant into the street. She fell into step with Jack while they followed Ron from the restaurant to the pub he knew. They chatted a bit, their rapport undamaged by her conclusions. In fact, it was sort of fun to observe him trying to pull her now that she had decided that was definitely not happening. She played along gamely, sure that a man with his opportunities wouldn't be too hurt when she said 'no thanks' in the end.

They hadn't gone two blocks when Hermione heard Harry call out, "Theo! Theo Nott! How the heck you doing!?" (Harry had had a good bit of wine with dinner). She craned her neck to spot Theo and saw his lanky frame through the group. He was man-hugging Harry and patting him on the back.

"Ahh, Nott," said Wickham, grinning at the pair in the distance. Harry was now trying to convince Theo to come to the pub with them.

"Oh do you know Theo?"

"Yes, yes we go way back," Jack said. "I've known him since school."

"But you never went to Hogwarts? Otherwise I'm sure I would have known you or known of you." She certainly wouldn't have missed him.

"Well school years, not school itsel…" Wickham stopped and stared at something, his face utterly still. Spooked, Hermione reached up to touch his arm and ask if he was ok. He didn't answer and she turned to see what he was looking at.

A pair of silver grey eyes bored into hers then flitted back to Wickham. She inhaled in surprise. What was Malfoy doing here and why was he looking at Jack with so much hositility? Malfoy's gaze shifted back to her again, and Hermione was suddenly aware of her intimate stance, so close to Jack. Malfoy's mouth tightened and a spasm of something close to disgust crossed his handsome face.

Hermione instinctively stepped away, then immediately wondered why she had done so. Malfoy turned from them and leaned over to speak to Theo. Theo's eyes cut to Wickham and darkened. He then said a quick but jovial goodbye to Harry and sent a wave to Hermione before he and Malfoy turned to leave.

Hermione's feet and mouth moved before her brain again. "Malfoy!" she called softly, "Draco!" She stepped forward and Jack melted away, seeming to want to distance himself. Malfoy stopped, not turning around. Hermione was surprised that he'd heard her through the din of the rowdy group—she'd been half-hoping he hadn't. She approached and stood behind him. His back looked rigid as he turned to almost face her.

"My given name, Granger?" he said without looking at her—he seemed angry. "I guess there's a first time for everything."

Hermione was flustered, an unusual feeling for her. Why had she called after him? It was something instinctive about not wanting him to go away thinking she was with Wickham when there seemed to be something hostile between them. This flitted through her mind in an instant, but she ended up blurting, "I just wanted to thank you. For the Prophet. And the letter. Your owl is beautiful. And your penmanship." Oh God, she was babbling. Fuck.

Oddly, his angry posture seemed to relax. He turned fully to her and looked down into her face, taking a step closer. His eyes went from flinty to warm in an instant, and Hermione felt her insides do a strange flip. "My penmanship, Granger?" he murmured, as the corner of his mouth pulled up.

"Um, yes. It's very neat. And bold. Your paper is nice too." His smirk turned into a smile and now she definitely felt her pulse speed. Had she ever seen him really smile before? Hermione had lost all touch with the others around them in her little bubble with Draco ('huh, 'Draco' again?').

"Well you don't have to. Thank me, that is," he said softly as his smile faded and his eyes roved around her face. "It was my fault, and my responsibility to make it right."

Hermione frowned, her hand darting out and gently touching his forearm. He gazed down at it. Electricity crackled between them."It wasn't your…" then suddenly she heard a loud, fake throat-clearing sound. Her head whipped around and she saw Ginny and Theo nearby staring at them—the others had continued down the street.

Jack Wickham was in the lead with Ron, but turned around at that moment to beckon Hermione down the alley. She came-to and snatched her hand back from Malfoy, practically leapt away and hurried to Ginny's side. Malfoy's posture tensed again, his easy warmth replaced by cool disdain. Hermione didn't dare look at Ginny, but she sensed the vibe emanating from her.

Malfoy blinked once and stepped toward Theo, his indifferent expression back in place. He and Theo said a terse goodbye and turned to walk in one direction, Hermione grabbed Ginny and moved in the other, as Ginny shot a significant glance at her that clearly said, you are telling me everything as soon as I get you alone. Hermione felt her face redden. Part of her longed to turn around and part of her wanted to apparate directly home and hide in bed.

"Hermione!" Malfoy's refined tones echoed in the alley. She whirled around at his use of her given name. "Watch yourself with your 'friend'." She looked puzzled. "Wickham," he almost spat. "He's not anyone you want to get too involved with."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed and her eyebrows drew together. She wanted to yell that she wasn't involved with Jack Wickham, but Malfoy had already turned around again, his tall figure stalking up the lane. Her anger flared—who the hell was he to tell her who to associate with? And besides, she'd already figured out that Wickham wasn't worth her time. She didn't need that interfering arse to tell her anything!

She too spun around, then grabbed Ginny's arm and steered her back toward the pub, walking at a furious pace. Why did Malfoy seem to be able to drive her to distraction one minute and enrage her the next?

"Wanker," she muttered under her breath. Ginny laughed and patted her arm as they walked on.

~oOo~

Draco's breath came fast as he and Theo moved up the alley. He wasn't sure if it was from his encounter with Wickham or with Granger.

Wickham. Back in London. The bloody cheek of that git to show his face here. He was lucky he wasn't in Azkaban awaiting trial. Only the need to protect the innocent had saved his worthless skin from prison. And to see him sniffing around Granger… and her touching him and staring up at him with those limpid doe eyes. Wickham was lucky he hadn't had his arse handed to him right in this alleyway.

She wouldn't be stupid enough to take up with that piece of human garbage, would she? But why had she been standing so close to him? And why did he fucking care? Why had her ridiculous comment about his penmanship bloomed in his chest like a ruddy warm flower? He'd been standing there grinning at her like an idiot when Theo had cleared his throat. And then her arsehole date had done that possessive little wave. Fuck, he felt foolish. And he hated feeling foolish.

Draco realised he was grinding his teeth and practically running up the street. Theo was keeping pace with him and staying silent, obviously aware that his friend was wound up.

He decided at that moment to do two things. 1) Focus on showing Wickham just what an inhospitable place London could be for him and 2) Redouble his efforts at banishing Hermione Granger from his sight and mind for good. Nothing good could come of this little preoccupation he had with her. She was all wrong for him—especially if she was giving her time to Wickham. Showed terrible judgment and worse taste.

No more finding excuses to be in the neighborhood where she worked and he'd only go to the Ministry during times he thought she wouldn't be there—like the weekends. Maybe he'd go out of town. He'd been needing to go to America to do some fact-finding for the new treatment center at the Meadows. He could leave tomorrow and stay a few weeks until Theo's party. There were plenty of distractions in New York and he could also use the time to investigate some of what Wickham had gotten up to in the states. Maybe the information would be of use in getting the fucking criminal out of Britain for good.

~oOo~

Later at the pub Hermione flitted from person to person, chatting and laughing with more than her usual vigor. She and Ginny had shared the better part of a bottle of champagne and she was feeling tipsy and sort of reckless.

She'd continued flirting with Wickham from across the room, although they hadn't spoken since they'd left the restaurant. Probably part of his strategy, she thought, amused, watching him lean suggestively over the bar and speak to the barmaid when he thought no one was looking. Eventually he found his way to Hermione and sat down.

"Having a nice night?" he smiled, looking into her eyes soulfully.

"Yes, lovely." She returned his intense gaze with a light smile. "And you?"

"How can I not be?"

Hermione fought the urge to snort.

He ducked his head and then looked up at her, clearly a practiced move. His face went from beguiling to serious, "I noticed you were rather familiar with Draco Malfoy earlier. Are you friends?"

Hermione did snort at this. "Friends? Hardly! He spent most of our childhood bullying me for being muggle-born, and our relationship as adults hasn't been much of an improvement. He's not at all what I'd call a friend." She tossed her head with a sniff.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, looking down again and tracing circles on the table with his finger.

Hermione frowned. "Why do you say that?" she said, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Well I'm sure you noticed our odd exchange earlier."

"Yesss, I couldn't help but see the tension between you." She decided to keep Malfoy's comments about Wickham to herself until she knew more. "Do you know each other?"

"Know him? I grew up with him." Wickham flashed her a wry smile. She tilted her head in surprise, waiting for him to continue. "I was raised at Malfoy Manor until I was eleven years old. My father was Lucius's steward. He's a pureblood, although the Wickhams are nowhere near the same social strata as the Blacks or Malfoys. My mother was American and a muggle. She cut off her family when she married my dad and then died when I was born, so my dad raised me alone."

Hermione was barely containing her astonishment at this news when he shifted in his seat and continued, seeming to look inward. "Draco and I are only a few months apart in age, so we were natural playmates. Although I was never allowed to forget that I was lesser than the 'little lord'." Wickham's mouth twisted. "I was a halfblood with an insignificant name, we had little money and I was son of the help. Yet, we got along and were companions for many years."

Hermione murmured an encouraging sound, realising she was rather keen to hear this story.

"It was an isolated upbringing for both of us." He flicked her a glance. "Other than me, Draco was only allowed to socialise with certain children in controlled circumstances. He had tutors at home while I was sent to the village school, but I felt uncomfortable playing with the local children because it meant I had to hide my magic." He paused to order from the barmaid, who gave him an inviting smile, despite Hermione's presence.

"We were rather close until it was time for him to go to Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy had told my father in no uncertain terms that I was not to go to 'Draco's school'. He'd tolerated our association at home but didn't want Draco sullied by my presence in public. He even secured his edict with a promise of gold should my father cooperate—a sizable sum to be released to me upon finishing school somewhere else."

Hermione inhaled sharply, shocked at what she was hearing.

Wickham noticed and gave her a half smile and a shrug. "So while I did receive a letter from Hogwarts, my father declined the invitation, and since I was half American, he was able to send me to Ilvermorny instead. Which was fine, I had a good experience at school and didn't know what I was missing, but it shows what type of control the Malfoys exercised over my life."

Hermione's brows had drawn together as he finished and she was fuming. This was so typical of that snobbish, managing TWAT, Lucius. Throwing his gold around to run people's lives. She shook her head and placed her hand over Wickham's on the table. "That's abhorrent," she said. "I'm so sorry. That wasn't fair to you at all."

He flipped his hand to grasp hers from underneath and continued, his eyes looking inward again. "Once Draco and I were apart at school our personal relationship grew distant as well. I'd sometimes see him when we were back from breaks at the same time, but I tried to stay with friends in America as often as I could and the Malfoys were often in France or at one of their other villas." Hermione rolled her eyes. "When we did see each other, it was awkward, and our friendship, such as it was, faded."

"But once the war started, I was glad of the distance. I didn't come back to England the entire time Voldemort was in ascension. I'm sorry if that seems cowardly, but it didn't seem like my fight. And I certainly didn't want to be forced to throw my lot in with Death Eaters."

"I think that's legitimate," Hermione nodded. "It was one thing to run away to America during the war, but you were already there and not even by your own choice. And besides if you'd come back home you would have been in danger from the scum living at Malfoy Manor."

"Exactly," he agreed, "In fact, my father barely made it out alive. He did it by keeping his head down, but there were some close calls. As a halfblood, I would definitely have been a target." He sighed, "and then after Voldemort was killed," his gaze flicked briefly across the room to Harry, "it came time for me to collect the sum that Lucius had promised my father. But of course by that time Lucius had died and I had to ask Draco for it. It was an uncomfortable interview, to say the least."

Hermione shook her head and Jack sighed. "Lucius had wanted me to study finance and estate management—so that I could take my father's place, you know? He'd set aside a sum to pay for a training and apprenticeship with Gringotts, but I didn't have any interest in that. I didn't want to be another servant for a rich family—especially the Malfoys." Hermione nodded vigorously and he smiled sadly, "I wanted to go to muggle medical school and become a doctor. Do something to help people. So I requested the lump sum to do with as I chose. Draco agreed to give it to me, but then when it came it was much less than I had been promised. It effectively ended my medical school hopes. It was better than nothing, though. So I took it to America and did what I could with property investment. That's how I wound up connected with this group. But I still feel the loss of pursuing my true calling."

"But why would he do that? Why wouldn't he give you what you were promised or even just enough to go to medical school? It's not like he couldn't afford it with ease." Hermione felt an unreasonably large surge of anger bubble up.

Wickham shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know for sure. He didn't make me privy to his reasoning or decision, but I always felt it had something to do with it being a muggle career. That he didn't approve of it somehow. Or maybe he was angry that I was rejecting employment with his family."

"Well that's total shite. He had no right to decide for you. This isn't the middle ages and you weren't his serf. It's so like him though. Born privileged, told he was better than everyone else all his life. Of course he's a managing arse. And arrogant too." Hermione felt her temper flare and let her voice rise. What an utter arsehole Malfoy was. She couldn't believe she had thought differently of him for one second.

~oOo~

Ginny heard Hermione's voice from across the bar, touched Harry's arm and walked in her friend's direction. She had been wondering if it was time to extricate her from Wickham. Hermione could generally handle herself, but she'd had more than usual to drink tonight and he had proved himself to be a silver-tongued bastard.

"How's it going over here," she asked, raising her eyebrows when she saw the familiar way Wickham was playing with Hermione's hands.

"Just talking about what a giant ARSEHOLE Malfoy is," said Hermione as Wickham chuckled.

"I think Hermione's feeling protective of me now that she knows the full history of my association with Draco Malfoy," Jack said as he reached over to tuck a curl behind her ear.

Ginny stared him down and his easy smile faltered. "That's funny because I thought we were starting to like Malfoy a bit more." Her gaze moved to Hermione, who shook her head and withdrew her hand from Wickham's, then asked if he minded if she told Ginny the history. He acquiesced and Hermione gave her the two minute version.

Ginny, being more sober than her friend and in much less turmoil over her feelings about a certain person, saw a few holes in the narrative that she thought were dodgy or at least worth further investigation. But she decided to keep her mouth shut until Hermione was in a better frame of mind to hear them.

"He thinks he's so great, with his smirks and his ability to lift a single eyebrow," Hermione was muttering. She was more drunk than Ginny had realised. It was clearly time to get her home.

"His cars and his face and clothes and his opinions make me angry. I am going to say something to him, Jack. I'll ask him why he did that to you. Why did you think you got to decide what a fully functioning autonomous human being got to do with his life, Malfoy!? I will ask him when I see him at Theo's party and I WILL have an answer." Ginny looked on with a mixture of consternation and amusement. Her friend seemed positively excited at the idea of a confrontation.

"Oh nonononono, Hermione, please don't," said Wickham sliding around to the other side of the booth and putting his arm around her. "I absolutely adore it that you're angry on my behalf, but it's water under the bridge at this point. I'm fine. Bringing it up will do nothing other than make us all feel awkward." Hermione looked sullen but agreed.

Ginny slid into the other side of the booth and shot Wickham another look. She was bothered by his familiarity, especially when Hermione was so obviously pissed. He had rapidly moved from potential fun-shag partner to way too close too fast and it was bordering on creepy. She looked around for Harry, caught his eye and touched her watch.

"Hey!" Hermione suddenly brightened. "Jack you know Theo and he's way nicer than Malfoy. Are you invited to his big party weekend after next? Ginny and Harry and I are going!"

Wickham cast his eyes down, "I highly doubt I'd be welcome if Draco is going to be there. He really doesn't like to mix with me or even speak to me anymore, as you saw tonight." Hermione looked ready to launch into another rant at this statement, so Ginny patted her hand and murmured soothingly while Wickham cut back in. "But I'm still friendly with Blaise Zabini. He and I met a few years ago at the Manor and hit it off. I'll ask him to ask Theo for me. Maybe it's a big enough party that no one will mind." This seemed to appease Hermione and she let it go.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and Ginny saw an opportunity to get Hermione home, so she took it, bundling her out of the booth to the apparition point down the street from the pub. She wanted to hear more about everything that had transpired this night, but it was obviously going to have to wait until her friend had had a deep, sobering sleep.