Chapter 5

Draco smiled and shook what must have been the three-hundredth hand so far that night, and with each hand shake he recalled why he had left this life style in the first place. But his mother wanted him here greeting each guest as they all gathered to pretend they cared about whatever cause Narcissa deemed worthy this time. When all they really wanted was to come and eat expensive food, drink expensive booze and gossip about their petty lives. Yes, Draco hated these kind of events with the pomp and circumstance, self-importance, and boring music. The only benefit would be that after a week full of decorating, preparing, and planing he would finally get to stand back let his mother host, while he drank copious amounts of alcohol. However, he had to get through the hand shaking before he drink himself in to a stupor, or perhaps some girl's bed. So he stood with his mother half behind a wall in the Gallery where people were coming in to the manor after flooing in through the fireplaces in the the foyer or aparating form outside the Malfoy property. It was Draco's job to politely take ladies cape shrugs, scarves, or cloaks and then hand them off to the house elf who would put them in the closet for safe keeping. This did give Draco the advantage of flirting with all of the pretty girls at the party and gave him a decent head start in the competition against the other virile males.

Draco had just handed a fox shrug that he had helped an older witch out of moments ago to a house elf when he heard his mother exclaim.

"Hermione!" Narcissa marveled, "You look simply sensational!" Draco froze at her words, he couldn't see Hermione because he had tucked behind the wall to help the old witch and then had given the shrug to the elf. "Let me have a look at you, oh my that dress is ravishing." It was then when Draco moved around to see Hermione and damn, she did look amazing. Narcissa had Hermione turning around in a circle so as Draco rounded the corner all he could see was a deep v-cut in the dress, his eyes tracked down her spine, she had certainly filled out since he last saw her, or she had been hiding a phenomenal figure under all those school uniforms. As she turned to face Narcissa he noticed other curvaceous parts of her body as well, Draco had to stop himself from gaping he was so taken by her. Smoothly, while Hermione was distracted by his mother, Draco took her hand bent forward slightly and placed soft kiss on her knuckles watching her for a very long moment.

Hermione turned to look at whoever had taken her hand and froze gawking when gray eyes caught her in their gaze. There, holding her had gently, was Malfoy, his platinum hair longer then it was at Hogwarts, five o'clock shadow defining his cheekbones and his pale skin warmed by the evening light.

"M...M..Malfoy?" She stuttered in shock. She wasn't sure what she found more disorienting the fact that he was here or the fact that he was willing touching her, and in a kind way none the less.

"Granger." He murmured into her knuckles, thoroughly pleased at how much he had confused her. He released her hand and stood up straight, smirking at his accomplishment to throw her off. "Thank you for coming." Draco watched carefully as the gears in her head clicked in to place.

Hermione withdrew her hand from his grasp. "Thank you." Her tone wary, she eyed him carefully. When she imagined seeing Malfoy again this was not the scenario she pictured. Hermione hadn't seen Malfoy since their eighth year at Hogwarts and honestly he had been ostracized by everyone but a handful of Slytherins, even most of his own house refused to acknowledge him. So she'd often seen him alone, hardly speaking in class and never spent much time with anyone. As their eighth year went on Hermione came to almost pity Malfoy. She had not forgiven him however. By the time Voldemort came to power again he was old enough to make a choice, he was old enough to choose his side, and while in the end he did choose Harry's side, she felt it was always to little to late. Narcissa she had forgiven, she had made the decision to protect her son in his sixth year, and stood by Voldemort only because that was the way she could keep Malfoy safe. Then, when Harry sacrificed himself she choose to lie to Voldemort knowing that if Voldemort won she would lose her life. That was bravery in Hermione mind, Narcissa risked everything she held dear in that single moment, what had her son done? He managed to not kill Dumbledore, and as far as Hermione could tell that was the only thing he did.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, clearly she was thinking to herself but now this prolonged silence became awkward as she stared blankly at him. "Granger?" he questioned.

She whipped back to reality, realizing she had been staring at him longer then she should have. "I thought you were traveling?" she asked him, her tone edgy.

Draco straightened himself to his full height, catching he sharp tone for the threat is was. "I returned for my fathers passing," he replied in an icy voice of civility that would have made his father proud. Damn it.

Hermione lifted her chin as his cold tone washed over her again, he sounded like Lucius incarnate. "I'm sorry for your loss." She turned to Narcissa again. "Thank you very much for inviting me. Your galas are always so wonderful." Hermione's tone turning from chilled to warm in half a beat.

Draco watched as the women exchanged more pleasantries, not taking his eyes off Hermione until she walked out of sight. With a lull in the arrivals Narcissa spoke. "Well Draco, that was chilling."

Draco rolled is eyes and looked at his mother once more. "You know we have history, piles and piles of it. What I didn't know was you two seem to be on a first name basis. When did that happen?"

Narcissa gave a small knowing smile. "We happen to attend many of the same fundraisers and events, the first thing she actually said to me after the trials was a gratitude for saving Mr. Potter's life."

"She thanked you for that?" Draco asked incredulously.

Narcissa tilted her head and raised her eyebrow at him. "Yes, she says I saved him when I lied to the Voldemort about his state of being."

Draco looked over his shoulder to glimpse her talking to some old man, a banker if Draco recalled correctly. "Is that right?" he mumbled over his shoulder.

Hermione was in fact talking to a banker, old wealthy men always sought her out at these functions, before she and Ron broke up, Ron would fend them off with his bluntness. Seeing as Ron no longer attended balls with her anymore, she spent most of her evening talking to men who she suspected wanted a pretty little trophy wife to adorn their already massive collections. She, of course, would have nothing to do it, however she played nicely. Every once in a while a nice young man would swoop in to save her form her woes, but she knew this was only a more suave way to woo her. This move rarely worked beyond diverting her from the older men. She sipped her champagne slowly, playing out the scenes in her head while the man in front of her regaled his efforts on bringing the Goblins to terms with the new Gringotts policies.

She nodded and smiled, surveying the room once more, an old wartime habit that she had yet to quit, when the platinum of Malfoy's hair had caught her eye again. He stood out in particular now, he was easily six feet tall, she read somewhere that men didn't stop growing until their twenty-one, and apparently Malfoy had continued to grow after Hogwarts. He was at lease six inches taller then the last time she saw him, his shoulders had broadened making his waist look even more slender in his Dress robes and, not that she was really looking, but it seemed that his muscles had become more defined as well. Her eyes lingered on him, examining his features from afar, the almost gaunt features that had fatigued him during the war gave in to a strong jaw and defined cheekbones. When he did smile he had a warmth to him that she had never witnessed before, she wouldn't call it a kind warmth but more of polite warmth? She wasn't sure if that was what she was going for, but Hermione thought he certainly looked less cruel, was that even possible?

Could a Malfoy be human? Then a pang of guilt her, Hermione's eyes darted towards Narcissa, she was certainly human. Hermione had come to very much like Narcissa, and while Narcissa was prim and proper, Hermione knew there was a soft heart underneath all the guards she put up. Among the pureblood crowd Hermione understood the need for such guards. Hermione was sure that Narcissa was just a kindhearted woman who was forced into a marriage to a cruel, hateful man. It was because of the puritanical ways Narcissa was raised she had no way out of that marriage, thus leaving her trapped in what Hermione was sure was an abusive marriage. The only light at the end of her tunnel being her son, and that light was why Narcissa risked it all.

Hermione's gaze drifted back to the Malfoy heir, he was probably abused too, rarely did the husband beat only the wife. Another pang of guilt washed over Hermione she chewed on her lip, her one hand holding champagne the other hand holding grasping her forearm. Was that why he was such a prat? Not that being abused is ever an excuse for anything, but the thought of it explained a lot. Is that why his demeanor has changed because his prick of a father is no longer around to hurt him or his mother?

"Miss Granger?" The old mad questioned

Hermione snapped back to reality again, cursing herself for not hearing anything the gentlemen said in the last five minuets, possibly ten. "Sorry. I..I uh... got lost in thoughts," she admitted earnestly.

The Older Gentlemen looked over his shoulder and saw Malfoy where Hermione had been gazing. "Ahh Draco, he has truly come in to his own the past few years, hasn't he? From what Narcissa has told me he's been doing quite a bit of traveling, using muggle transport, nonetheless." The man chuckled to himself. "If the Malfoy ancestors knew, they would be rolling in their graves with fury! Narcissa says he has been acting like a poor commoner, backpacking his way around, staying in less than favorable conditions." He lowered his head, his eyebrows raised and look over his spectacles. "She's quite happy to have him home in the safe confines of the Malfoy Manor"

Hermione's expression of shock must have been laughable as the gentlemen chortled at her look. "That's what he has been doing in the three years he's been away?" She questioned.

The man watched her face carefully. "Yes, hasn't Narcissa told you of his travels?"

Hermione looked down, Narcissa had told her that he was traveling but Hermione never asked beyond that, assuming Malfoy was Playboying across Europe in expensive hotels and private properties that the Malfoy's surely owned. "I never particularly asked, he and I weren't on the best of terms at school."

The banker nodded. "Well then, maybe it's time to let bygones be bygones." He smiled, "Draco!" He bellowed across the floor, waving his free hand, beckoning Draco over.

Hermione looked up in shock at the banker, feeling her face become a violent shade of red, "No..." Shit, she forgot his name. "No, no, uh no need.." but before she could finish her sentence, Malfoy appeared at her side. Her head dropped looking down at her hands that were now anxiously playing with her champagne glass.

"My dear son, this extravagant young lady was just telling me of her wish to dance, however being as late in years as I am, dancing is ill-advisable." The banker looked at Hermione who was apprehensively playing with her glass and plucked it from her hands. "I was curious if you would do me the favor of dancing with her instead." He genuinely smiled.

Hermione looked up, her mouth pursed and just as she was going retort Malfoy cut in.

"Certainly, Mr. McHale." Draco nodded politely and slipped his hand into Hermione's and raised her hand then looked at her as she gaped at Mr. McHale, a small smirk caressing his lips as he watched her confusion sink in. When she finally turned to look at Draco her amber eyes meeting his, he felt a small twinge in his stomach.

Hermione met his eyes, still trying to puzzle out the few moments that had just happened her mind moving a million miles a minute, and then Malfoy smirking at her and placing another chaste kiss on her knuckles. What alternate universe had she slipped into?!

Draco smoothly lead her to the dance floor, reveling in the shocked silenced that accompanied him. As they reached the dance floor he placed his free hand on her back pulling Hermione close to him, his other hand still holding hers. The orchestra started to play a smooth waltz and Draco began to lead her across the floor, pleasantly surprised that she wasn't completely inept at dancing.

Hermione finally caught on to the moment, her body effortlessly following Malfoy's steps. "Okay, Malfoy, what are you playing at?" her voice terse, this must have been some sort of trick to make her look foolish, and belittle her in some way. Was there a pureblood tradition of handing women around like toys?

Draco continued to gaze down at her, of course she was suspicious. He had been a twat to her in their early Hogwarts years and then he was a Death Eater, he knew that she wouldn't trust him at all. Though Draco was surprised she didn't hex him in to next Tuesday when he took her hand. "Nothing," Draco said giving pause. "Mr. McHale simply said you needed a dance partner and it would have been rude not to take you off his hands."

"So it is some sort of belittling thing towards women?" Hermione sneered, as she tried to pull away from him causing him to misstep as he grasped her tighter to keep her from leaving, Hermione noting the strength of his arms as he did so.

"No," Draco hissed. He was keenly aware she hated him, and had hated him for a decade now, but he was rather hoping that time would have dulled the loathing just a bit more. "I did not mean it in that way, so don't go twisting it around. He asked me to dance with you and that is what I'm doing." He released her for a turn, and brought her back close to him.

Hermione followed his lead once more, eyeing him skeptically, "Okay, so then why are you being so" she thought for a moment carefully picking the word. She landed on "Civil." In truth he was being charming but that was not an attribute she was not willing to label him with. Honestly the only reason she hadn't hexed him when he first took her hand was because of shock to see this charming side, and perhaps champagne on a nearly empty stomach had not helped either.

Draco smiled, there it was the opening he had been hoping for since he had heard Hermione's name. "We're adults now," he coolly began. "And I have hope that we would be able to let the past be." He smirked. "Besides it seems that you and my mother have made amends, why not us?"

Was Hermione hearing this correctly? Did Malfoy have copious amounts of alcohol, making him tolerable? "Are you drunk?" Though, now that she thought of it, he didn't smell of alcohol.

Draco rolled his eyes in frustration. Of course, he tries to be decent for once in his life and she was accusing him of being intoxicated. "No," he growled. "Damn it, Granger, just let me dance with you."

"No!" She retorted. "No, you don't get to be horrible to me for over a decade then swoop in now and just dance with me," her expression haughty. Their waltz becoming fiery with each verbal counter.

Draco pushed her for another turn this time swinging her back forcefully enough that she collided with his body, her hand now on his chest. "For fuck's sake, Granger, leave it and just dance with me," he hissed quietly in her ear. He had stopped them in the middle of the dance floor, Draco feeling people starting to watch their exchange.

Shivers ran up Hermione's spine as she felt Malfoy's breath hot on her skin, her hand burned on his chest where, whether she imagined it or not, she felt his heartbeat, and a sharp musky cologne teased her senses. She looked up at him, confusion riddling her face, completely unaware of the chatter in the rooms dying and people watching closely. Hermione hesitated. "No, Malfoy, you owe me a lot more than a forget it"

Draco grimaced, but then stepped back still holding her left hand, bowed, and without another word left her on the dance floor. He passed his mother on the way out. "Not a word," he warned Narcissa and then left the party. He stormed down the hall way towards the unoccupied wing of the house, throwing open the doors to the morning dinning room that looked over the gardens. He tore off his dress robes and ripped the bow tie from his neck throwing them on to the table. He paced angrily unbuttoning the first few buttons to his dress shirt feeling stifled in his furry, leaned forward on the wall slamming his fist against the antique wallpaper grumbling to himself. He heard footsteps following him into the room. "Not now Mother." He growled into the wall, turning face Narcissa, but Hermione stood there in his mothers place.

Hermione held her face sternly, as if she was about to discipline one of her god children. "You do not get to storm off like some four year old," she barked at him her arms crossed in front of her.

"It's my house, Granger, I will do as I damn well please." Draco spat back, walking towards her, his full height at least a head above hers.

"No you will not. I may be in your house, but you are not allowed ever to disrespect me again," she shot back not intimated by his stature. "You got away with that for too many years, as far as I am concerned."

"You don't fucking get it, do you, Granger?!" Draco slammed his fist against the table beside her.

Hermione didn't flinch; she wouldn't give him the gratification of her fear. "No, I don't fucking get it, hence the entire purpose of this conversation," she yelled at him. "You literately waltz back in to my life and expect me to forget the ten plus years of your torture that you put me through, and then get mad at me when I demand a reason?" She huffed. "No, I don't get it."

Draco threw his head back in frustration walking away from her then stopping and turning on his heel to yell at her some more. "I fucking had too!" He bellowed his arms outstretched "Do you remember the first time I called you a mudblood?" He watched Hermione's face recoil. "Second fucking year Granger! Did it ever fucking cross your mind that if I thought that poorly of you I would have called you that first year?" He paused, watching her think for a moment. "When I came home and told my father about you and how you outdid me in class rankings, he beat me, then told me I had to remind you of your place." He was breathing heavily now, he could feel the anger giving way to guilt, he moved closer to her his voice calmer now. "It was a fucking show. If anyone knew that I harbored anything but contempt for you, I'd be beaten for my insolence." He was standing inches from her, he could almost feel her warmth, and so desperately wanted just to touch her again. He cautiously moved his hand to her face just hovering centimeter over skin, the want to caress her cheek aching in fingers.

Hermione was gazing deep in to eyes, waiting almost for him to burst out laughing proclaiming some sick joke, but he stood like a statue, waiting for something from her. Problem was, Hermione didn't know what that was. She could feel the tension between them; it was so thick she felt stuck in its weight, but she was scared, scared that this was a ruse. Afraid that if she did anything but walk away Malfoy would spread the gossip to every corner of the earth to embarrass her, and yet, she wasn't sure she had seen anyone ever be so real with her. Things started to click in to place throughout her memory. He was right, he hadn't called her a mudblood until second year. He also always seemed to pay extra attention to her throughout their years at Hogwarts. In fact, Hermione couldn't remember him using mudblood against anyone but her. Then there were the looks he gave her in class. She had always assumed her was sneering or glaring at her for being swotty, but was there something else there? Something written between the lines that Hermione just missed. "What are you saying, Malfoy?" she whispered.

Draco clenched his jaws, "For fuck sake" He slid his hand against her cheekbone and to the back of her head and pressed his lips on hers hard. Desperately he kissed her, as if he was trying to make up for ten long lost years. His other hand snaked around her hips and pulled her into him with a crushing force. And much to his pleasure she didn't fight him. She didn't wrap her arms around him, but she didn't pull away or push him back either. He pulled his lips off hers, their foreheads still pressed together and in a barely-there voice he said, "That, Granger, that is what I'm saying, and have been saying since you were looking for Longbottom's stupid toad."

Hermione swore that her heart beat was audible; it was thundering so loud in her chest, no one had kissed her like that. Ever. Ron's kisses were always sweet and soft and the other men she had kissed were not nearly as passionate. Malfoy had just kissed her like he needed Hermione to bring him back to life, so desperate as if his existence depended on her lips. His grip so firm and so tight she almost questioned if he would ever let her go. Yet her common sense was warning her this is Draco Bloody Malfoy, he's going to hurt you. Oh but how her desire wanted to ignore the threatening of her brain, she hadn't been touched in almost a year and her primal urges pushed for her to seek cardinal pleasures as if his kiss was laced with hormones to seduce her. She just wanted more, her stomach tingling with warmth, anticipation, risk and the forbidden temptations added an insatiable need for pleasure. But fuck, this is fucking Malfoy her logic screamed at her, but her body grasped for more. She kissed him this time, her hands sliding up his chest to find exposed skin where he had unbuttoned his shirt and cool flesh titillated her finger tips. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, EVACUATE, LEAVE NOW! Her head was pounding as her brain tried to gain control of a body that was retaliating.

Draco leaned hard into her kiss, amazed that she was still there in front of him; he was sure when he kissed her she would Avada him. His skin lurched at her touch suddenly aware that his shirt was unbuttoned and how unbelievably silky her hands were against his chest. His groin twitched with the desire he felt building through his body, ten years of desire to be exact. His hands instinctively grabbed her by the ass the picking her up to straddle his hips, Draco grateful she had choose a dress with a loose skirt. He moved back towards the dinning table setting her on the edge kissing her feverishly now, his body frantic with anticipation. He cupped her breast as his kisses slipped down on Hermione's neck nipping at shoulder.

Merlin's beard, Hermione wanted this, the heat between her legs burning so hot it overtook every good sense she had, she could feel his length pressed on her inner thigh, the thought of it pushing into her made her ache in ways only a women would understand. As Malfoy massaged her breast she could feel every inch of her body excite with a hunger she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. His hot kisses pushed her spine down on to the table, she slowly opened her eyes to find him unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and then her brain struck her like lightning. STOP NOW, and as if a cold bucket of water had been dumped on her she came back to the reality, "No!" she yelled, visibly catching Malfoy off guard. "No, I have to go, I can't do this, I won't do this!" Her voice desperate and terrified. She quickly stood up and ran for the door and was out of the room before Malfoy could say a thing.

Draco was unsure of what had just happened, Hermione was lost in passion one moment and running out the door the next, his fingers still frozen on his shirt buttons. It wasn't until he heard the door slam that he woke from his trance, he spun around to look at her but she was already gone. "FUCK!" he bellowed this time kicking his lounge in anger. He chased her away, he knew there was no way on earth that she would be ready for intimacy with him he was already on thin ice by kissing her, and now he had gone and lost control and managed to mess up any chance he had at her. "Damn it!" he choked, rolling his head back and running his hand through his hair, if he had any self control he would have just walked away before she could kiss him back. It just then dawned on him, she had kissed him back, a small smile snuck it's way across his lips.