A/N: Hi friends! Sorry this is a bit late - our internet was down for a bit. Thank you again for all your lovely reviews! I'm hoping to get back to you all this weekend, but in the mean time, I appreciate everyone's kind thoughts, and I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far!

Chapter 5 - Rule Number Three: Change Your Look

Despite her protests, Draco dragged Hermione out of the office and down the cobbled streets of wizarding London. The streets hadn't clogged with commuters on their way home from work yet, but Hermione felt a blush stain her cheeks when two children flitting about near the shop windows stopped to whisper and point at her as Malfoy swept her past.

He clucked when she ducked her head, his grip tightening infinitesimally. "I know you're ashamed to be seen with me, Granger, but that doesn't mean you have to be so obvious about it."

Her jaw fell slack, and she jerked her head up to look at him. "I am not ashamed to be seen with you. What even—"

"The characteristic ducking of your head, the blush… all of it is pretty standard fare of shame," he replied almost absentmindedly as he scanned the window fronts they passed by. "It's nothing new, though I expected better from you."

The cavalier nature with which he discussed the way society treated him stung, and she rushed to correct him. "I am not ashamed of you," she reiterated. "I'm just tired of being accosted on the street for something that happened twelve years ago." Her gaze cut to him. "And you'd think the general public would be a little more forgiving of you, as well. At the very least, the shock value and novelty of it all should have worn off."

Behind them, someone shouted her name, and she huffed a sigh. Hermione affixed a bright smile to her face and turned, greeting the two small children they had passed as they approached, their mother in tow. They looked to be about eight years old, and their mother shared a pained grimace with her.

"Hi, I'm Gwendolyn Fawley!" The little girl's voice was high and squeaky, large brown eyes shining up at her. "Is it true that you helped Harry Potter beat Voldemort?"

Her amusement must have been clear on her face when she replied in the affirmative because the child jumped up and down, clapping her hands together with a truly dismaying display of glee. "Thank you! My mom says you're one of the reasons we still live here!"

The other child, cowering behind his mother's legs, appeared awestruck as he whispered, "Gwennie, you just hugged the Golden Girl."

"Gwendolyn, Oliver!" Their mother hissed, pulling her backwards as the child's eyes grew wide and her lower lip poked out petulantly. "I'm so sorry, Miss Granger. Clearly we're still working on boundaries."

Hermione's answering laugh was a bit hollow for the situation, but Hermione smiled anyways. "It's alright; start them young with history and whatnot." She crouched down, putting herself eye level with the girl. "Make sure to read your books so you have all the information you can, yeah? Knowledge is power."

Gwendolyn's eyes shone with fascination as her mother pulled her away, tossing a small wave over her shoulder. Hermione could hear them chattering about how cool she was as they disappeared around the corner, and the blush on her cheeks stained deeper.

As she turned, Malfoy harrumphed, facing a nondescript glass door he'd stopped in front of and behind which a flight of stairs led into darkness. "Clearly the novelty hasn't worn off. And given our interaction when we met in your office again…" He levelled her with a firm flick of his brows. "Pot meet kettle."

Hermione didn't have a chance to contradict him, as he marched to the door, turned the handle, and wrenched it open. Without waiting for her, he bounded up the stairs into the darkness.

Following slowly behind him, Hermione scanned the landing before her. Though guilt nagged at her, she couldn't help but think it might be a trap of some kind—old habits died hard, she supposed. When she saw nothing that immediately struck her as ill-willed, she climbed the staircase after him and pushed open a door emblazoned with a scripted sign: by appointment only.

Damn Malfoy for always planning something.

The interior of the shop was swathed in luxurious white fabric, sophisticated chaises interspersing racks of chic clothing that Hermione would bet her next paycheck cost more than her entire wardrobe. In a daze, she walked forward, eyeing a table full of lacy lingerie as she went. A slinky, black dress hung from a mannequin just past the lingerie, and she paused, studying it appreciatively. Though she raised her hand to touch the undoubtedly expensive material, her brow puckered and she decided against it, forcing herself to continue forward until she stopped before a wall of shoes.

She thought it might be more apt to call them torture devices given the height of some of the heels.

Somewhere to the left of her, she could hear Draco chatting idly with the shop owner, but she ignored it, instead reaching out to pick up a simple maroon velvet pump.

"A little bold, even for you, Granger."

She knew that voice. She'd heard it ring out over the Great Hall, offering her friend up to Voldemort so many years ago. Her eyes rounded as she turned and took in Pansy Parkinson standing before her, arms crossed beneath her generous bust.

Sometime between leaving Hogwarts and now, Pansy had ditched the dark kohl with which she'd lined her eyes. The mostly natural look she sported now would have made her softer if not for the deep wine stain on her lips and the sharp wing of her eyeliner. Her hair fell in a blunt bob just below her jaw, and Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy at how well Pansy had grown into herself.

"Pansy, wow. Hi. I didn't realise this was your shop," Hermione rambled, nerves fluttering in her stomach. "Er, you look different— I mean nice. You look different and nice."

If Pansy rolled her eyes any harder, Hermione was sure they'd pop out and roll across the floor. "Let's not waste time with pleasantries, yeah? Draco bumped two diplomats to get you in here today, so get on with it." She turned, waving her hand in mockery of a fanfare. "Welcome to Parkinson Designs."

A small part of Hermione relaxed; she could handle snarky Parkinson. This was safe territory.

"It's lovely, truly." Hermione's brow wrinkled though, and she ran her hand over the soft velvet of the pump in her hand before placing it firmly back on the shelf with a twinge of longing. "It's just… I'm afraid the price is a little outside my range."

Suddenly, Malfoy was standing beside Pansy, shaking his head. "Granger, this is not out of your range and you know it." His jaw settled into a stubborn line. "When was the last time you bought anything for yourself?"

"I'll have you know I just purchased something last month—"

Draco heaved an exaggerated sigh. "New, Granger. New. When was the last time you purchased something brand new for yourself?"

Biting down a reluctant sigh, she thought back blindly. "Six years ago? Maybe seven?" She could feel the reprimand coming as she frantically scrambled for a satisfactory answer. "When I landed the job at Witch Weekly… but I've found some nice pieces at the consignment shop." Hermione cringed at the disbelief in their eyes. Dipping her gaze to the floor, she muttered, "I hate shopping."

She hoped that would be the end of it, but out of her peripheral vision, she saw Pansy stalk up behind her. The woman pushed her forward, guiding her towards one of the racks adjacent to the wall of shoes. "First things first, Granger." They stopped, and Pansy strode forward, settling a hand on the line of clothing before she fixed Hermione with a stern stare. "Investing in your appearance isn't something to hate."

Hermione sucked in a breath, ready to retort, but Pansy continued.

"You're all about this 'Modern Witch' brand you've turned Witch Weekly toward, yeah?"

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded. "I am."

Turning towards the rack, Pansy pulled out several items on hangers, passing them off to an attendant who seemed to pop up out of nowhere. "Then you need to exude it. New clothes, actually putting effort into your appearance—" Her gaze snagged on Hermione's frizzy hair, and she resisted the urge to cover it with her hand. "—if you want people to believe what you're pedalling, you have to look the part. Besides, if you're going to publish an exposé on how harmful fast fashion is, you need to stop supporting it with your department store mark-downs."

Sucking her lip between her teeth, Hermione sighed, blowing out a large gust of breath. "I understand, but what if I—"

Draco chuckled behind her. "Granger, two things." She turned, eyeing him lounging on one of the chairs adorning the room. "You need a new wardrobe; the trousers aren't bad, but that blazer has been through some shite." His nose wrinkled in distaste, but he unfolded his legs and rose, eyeing her up and down. "You want to be desirable, right? Want a man to look at you and think about how he's going to bend—"

Pansy shoved Draco aside, his grunt punctuating his return to the chair he'd vacated. Suddenly, the full force of her serious stare landed on Hermione. "You're seeing someone?"

Uncomfortable with the direct question, Hermione fidgeted, unsure what to disclose. Finally, she settled on the truth. "Not yet, but I'm interested in someone."

"Right." Pansy nodded, returning to the wall of shoes, eyeing them critically before she selected a couple that weren't of unwieldy height. Then she returned to Hermione, a sparkle in her eyes as she cocked her head toward a dressing room tucked away in the corner. "Humour me, yeah?"

For just a split second, a retort lingered on her tongue, begging her to snap that she'd already been humouring her, but she followed Pansy anyways without answering.

"Go in here and just try on everything I've selected for you. Just once." Pansy's tone brokered no room for disagreement, so Hermione stepped forward, trying not to let her displeasure show on her face. Just before she disappeared behind the heavy linen curtain, Pansy's hand fell to her elbow. "You're pretty, Granger. Gorgeous, actually. Always have been." With a slight upturn of the lips that Hermione thought was actually akin to beaming for the other woman, she was pushed inside. "If those don't make you understand what we all see, then I'll eat my bra."

The curtain fell shut behind Hermione before she could answer, so she settled on inspecting the pieces that Pansy had chosen for her.

Several of them were simple, upscale versions of what she already owned: sensible black and dark-toned pencil skirts and a couple nicer blouses that she could interchange depending on the weather. The majority of it, though, was far more risque than she usually chose. A royal purple dress with a plunging neckline hung from one hanger, and next to it was the simple black dress with a sweetheart neckline she'd passed, that she was just sure would cling to her like a second skin.

Oh gods, what had she gotten herself into?

"So, Granger, tell me about this guy," Pansy called out, her voice loud enough that Hermione was sure she was lounging against the wall just outside the changing room. Her attempt at a casual question was loaded, and Hermione could sense the undertone of impatience in it.

On a whim, she selected the purple dress first, knowing full well they'd expect her to choose one of the safer options. "He's a healer." A wicked smile lilted her lips as she slipped it on, the hem falling just above her knees. It was appropriate enough for work, not too tight and not too low cut, but she stared at herself in the mirror. Even in her simple beige flats, she looked good.

It was a testament to how little attention to paid to herself that she realised she hadn't aged half badly herself.

Pansy sighed, and Hermione could just imagine her standing outside the changing room inspecting her nail beds as she pretended to care. "Mhmm."

Kicking off the flats, she eyed the heels that Pansy had given her to try as she spoke. "He's handsome and kind, and he likes my cat." One was a simple black pair, much like the pair she'd owned for years, but the toe was pointed and unscuffed, unlike the rounded toe of her own. The other pair was also black, a suede material with a thin band meant to wrap around her ankle. She chose those, perching on the edge of the bench inside to slip them onto her feet.

"Wow, Granger, sounds like he's a real lady killer." Scorn dripped from Pansy's words, but Hermione ignored her as she stood back, eyeing herself in the mirror.

Damn Pansy and double damn Malfoy; she did feel good.

Straightening her shoulders, Hermione strode out, a sly smile on her lips as she turned to face the mirror.

Maybe she was biased, but she looked even better than she thought. The full-length mirror captured the way the heels accentuated her calves, and she would be lying if the image of Draco Malfoy staring at her with his mouth agape didn't boost her ego far more than it should have.

Maybe this clothing tip wasn't half as bad as she thought if the chauvinist himself approved.

Even Pansy eyed her approvingly, moving behind her to pinch a little loose fabric along the zipper. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, Pansy offered her the first real smile she'd ever seen from her. "So?"

Swallowing the desire to preen, Hermione studied herself once more. "I think I'll take it all."

Surprise flashed in Pansy's gaze, but she summoned a cushion of pins with a quick wave of her wand. Slipping them into the pinched fabric, she turned Hermione around with a light touch on her hip. When she settled, Pansy cocked an eyebrow at Malfoy. "So what do you think, Malfoy?"

He blinked twice before he responded. "Looks great, Granger." He was up and off towards the door before she could smile again. "I'll see you downstairs, yeah?" Waving Pansy to his side, he spoke lowly to her for a few minutes before the other woman nodded with a quizzical twist to her lips, and Malfoy disappeared down the staircase.

A frown marred Hermione's face for a moment. What an odd escape when he'd insisted on the shopping trip… but she shook it off, turning to Pansy. "How should I pay?"

But the other woman was staring after Malfoy too, something like understanding shining in her gaze before she answered Hermione. "Tell you what…"

Thirty minutes later, Hermione walked out of Pansy's boutique, a slight spring to her step. Pansy had proposed a guest column in Witch Weekly in exchange for half the sum of the clothes; the rest of it would be transferred to Pansy's business account when the owl Hermione had arranged for delivered the authorisation note to Gringotts. Pansy was to have the clothes delivered to her flat after alterations had been completed.

Malfoy kept uncharacteristically to himself, but Hermione couldn't help the broad smile on her face at the reluctant compliments Pansy had given her before leaving. You've decent hair now you've learned to manage it, but for Merlin's sake, use some concealer to cover the bags under your eyes.

It was the nicest thing she thought she'd ever heard the other woman say, and Hermione couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, Pansy Parkinson liked her.

The sentiment shouldn't have felt like such a victory, but it did, and she was never one to eschew victory.

"What's got you so perky?" Malfoy's voice had a sharp edge of uncertainty to it, a characteristic she'd not associated with this adult version of the bully she knew.

Humming to herself, she sidestepped a puddle, eyeing him critically as they walked towards an Apparition point near the office. "Thanks for today." She glanced up beneath her lashes at him as they walked. "You may not be as bad as I initially thought."

Malfoy cocked his head to the side, drawing his lip between his teeth even as a grin spread across his face, smoothing the lines from between on his forehead. "Hermione Granger is thanking me?" He lifted his hand dramatically to his neck. "Well, I've still got a pulse, so I'm obviously not dead yet."

A laugh tinkled out of her, and she bumped him with her hip. "Very funny, Malfoy." She sobered though, pushing a hand back through her curls as they paused just beyond the Apparition point. "It's been nice… getting out of the office, delegating a little bit." She drew her lip in between her teeth, grinning a bit up at him. "I didn't realise that I hadn't felt good about myself in a long time."

Malfoy rocked up on his toes, nodding with a smirk. "I told you; investing in yourself isn't a bad thing." He glanced over his shoulder before he spoke with a waggle of his brows. "And now, any man would be chomping at the bit to get you in bed with him."

Though she laughed, she shoved his shoulder, gliding past him to the Apparition point. "You really know how to ruin a good thing, Malfoy!" She paused, throwing him her best imperious glare down her nose. "Have that column ready for review first thing Monday morning."

She whirled away with the sound of his answering laughter in her ears.

The rest of the evening had passed in quiet repose, Hermione lounging on her sofa with her book in hand and Crookshanks curled up at her feet. In his haste to extricate her from the office, Malfoy hadn't allowed her to pack any of the work that she normally brought home for the weekend, so a book was the next best option.

The glass of cabernet on her side table had lulled her into a deep relaxation, and she found her head dipping back on the pillow despite how badly she wanted to finish the book. Just as she closed her eyes and allowed the paperback to settle comfortably on her chest, a rustling followed by incessant tapping outside her window made her perk up.

A cavalry of tawny brown owls sat on the windowsill, their bright yellow eyes peering back at her expectantly. Hermione reluctantly flipped the blanket back, dislodged Crooks from her lap with a protesting meow, and opened the latch.

The birds flew past her in a flurry of wings, and they settled neatly in a line on her countertop, each dropping the package they'd had clasped in their claws. The packages settled neatly before her, sealed with the entwined script of Pansy's logo.

A thrill of anticipation raced up Hermione's spine as she summoned the owl treats she kept on hand for when Harry's owl stopped by. Once each owl received their treats, they hopped to the window, taking flight with a grateful hoot.

An uncharacteristic, anticipatory squeal slipped out of her as she turned, eyeing the packages. A wave of her wand sent them soaring across the room, and she followed, snatching the first from the top.

As she tore it open, she once again admired the sturdy, elegant material the clothes had been crafted out of. It didn't take an expert to tell that these clothes would last her much longer than her previous purchases had, and she made a mental note to send Pansy and Malfoy a thank you note.

Each piece was exquisite. She unboxed the purple dress she'd first tried on, and smiled manically, hugging it to her chest. Though she wanted to run to her room and slide it on again, she set it aside, eyeing all of the clothing.

She'd never purchased so much all at once, but then she remembered Pansy's words: everyone deserves a treat sometimes.

A frown worked its way across her face as she eyed the pieces she'd arranged carefully on the coffee table before her. All of the clothes she'd picked out were there, each one pressed and sporting the slight magical signature of a stasis charm, ready for hanging in her closet. However many times she counted, she still got the same number, but there were still three unopened boxes before her, each bearing Pansy's logo.

With more than a little trepidation, she leaned forward, carefully picking up the uppermost box and settling it in her lap. She unwrapped it slowly, appreciating the expensive paper that slid through her fingers much like she had with the others and placed the lid aside.

Beneath the tissue paper, a swath of black material peeked out, and she reached in, picking it up and allowing it to unfold in her hands.

It was the black dress—the black dress, the one she'd stared at with admiration when she first entered the boutique. The material was even more luxurious than she'd imagined it would be, and she ran an appreciative hand over the slight ribbing of the neckline. As much as she wanted to skive off opening the rest and go try the others on, she placed it aside, picking up the next.

When the tissue paper fell aside, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Nestled within were several matching sets of the lingerie. They ranged in colour, but her gaze snagged on a deep burgundy brazier with matching lacy underwear.

She'd never owned something so sexy in her life.

Could she even wear that?

Her cheeks burned, embarrassment flooding through her as she slammed the lid back on. With the action, though, a folded piece of parchment fluttered to the floor, and she dove forward, flipping it open to familiar penmanship she'd admired only hours earlier.

Granger,

Throw out your hideous grandmother knickers.

D.M.

P.S. Tell your healer he can thank me later.

Ooh, she'd hex him into the Veil the next time she saw him.

The last box was heavier than the others, but Hermione was too excited to pause as she tore through the paper, sliding the box open. Atop the wrapping lay two notes, and she picked them up.

The first was written in a scrawling script, three simple sentences.

Thanks for giving me a chance. Enjoy the clothes.
The extras are on Draco.

Pansy Parkinson
C.E.O. & Designer, Parkinson Designs

A grin lit up her face. She was right; Pansy Parkinson liked her.

Chalk that up as another victory Hogwarts-aged her never would have expected.

The second piece was written in the same tight penmanship as the first.

You're welcome.

D.M.

Nerves seized her as she lifted the wrapping, internally chastising herself for her shaking fingertips. But when she glimpsed the offering inside, a ridiculous grin lilted her cheeks.

The red velvet pumps, the only heels she'd even been interested in upon first glimpse. She lifted them, admiring the colour and material again in the low light of her flat.

Perhaps Draco Malfoy wasn't such a git after all.

She had to hand it to him; the gifts were certainly unexpected, and for all he touted about men not caring about women for anything more than their looks, he'd certainly been aware of the things she'd coveted earlier even before she slipped into the purple dress and heels. Merlin, he'd even been kind of nice, building her up about her looks and calling her a catch.

Gods help her that she'd ever thought of Malfoy as nice, but maybe this arrangement was going to work out better than she'd anticipated.

With a wave of her wand, the boxes and tissue paper compacted into neat piles and soared across the room. When they'd neatly settled themselves into her recycling container, she grinned to herself, humming in satisfaction as another flick of her wrist sent her new clothes filing down the hall.

"C'mon, Crooks, what do you say we tuck in for the night?" The yellow half-kneazle looked up at her, baleful, uninterested eyes peering out from behind tufts of wild fur. The box he'd commandeered had floated away with the rest, leaving him at her feet with a piece of tissue paper tucked firmly between his paws and wide, sad eyes.

Guilt rose up in her, both at taking the toy he was so fascinated with and for becoming so preoccupied by work that she hadn't been able to pay him much mind recently.

Two lazy blinks in her direction prefaced his half-hearted return to bunny-kicking the tissue he'd stolen.

When Hermione picked him up and tucked him under her arm, he huffed a dramatic sigh, but she only chuckled in response. "I know, I'm so mean." Tucking her book under her arm and picking up the glass of cabernet, Hermione left the room, padding down the hall to her bed as she waved her wand, summoning Crooks a box to sleep in for the night.

Her mind wandered as she drained the last of her wine, straying to the weekend, lunch with Daphne, and hopefully seeing Theo again. Just as she was drifting off into a deep, relaxed sleep for the first time in months, though, Malfoy's notes flitted through her mind, a warm blush staining her cheeks.

My amazing alphas for this story are mcal and LadyKenz347! Go give them some love!
My stellar beta is In Dreams, and if you haven't started it yet, you need to go read her new fic, Nocturnus!