Chapter 24

Hermione was running late. She was supposed to be meeting Draco in a few minutes so they could Apparate to a little pub he wanted to take her to.

But she was stuck, not even half-dressed, looking at herself in the mirror. She tended to avoid the mirrors in her flat, only giving them a cursory glance as she fixed her hair or applied a light make-up glamour.

Tonight was special, though. She was pretty sure that tonight was the night. The dramatic italics were a remnant of the hushed conversations she'd overheard in the Gryffindor dormitory as a teenager. A relationship taking that next step was surely worth a little bit of italic emphasis. She'd known that they were heading that direction—had nearly jumped ahead a few steps last week on the couch at his flat—but the knowledge that it was probably, most likely, going to happen tonight had her anxiety levels running high.

It wasn't that she was afraid of sex—she wasn't. And if the kisses she and Draco had occasionally been stealing in the corridors of the Ministry were any indication, there was nothing amiss with her sex drive. It was easy when his mouth was on hers, making her forget all of the doubts and the insecurities. She wasn't thinking about anything else when he kissed her, except how much she wanted that feeling to go on and on.

When his hands crept down over her backside, molding her to him, she could feel his arousal and it was like sparks shooting up and down under her skin. Her body responded without her even thinking about it. He'd laughed at her a little bit last time when she almost tried to wrap her leg around his waist, right there inside her office with the door wide open and Melinda pretending she wasn't listening. She'd colored up, only slightly embarrassed at letting herself get carried away. He'd teasingly kissed the side of her neck and then left. He'd only stopped in to tell her he wasn't able to take lunch with her, and the goodbye kiss had escalated much too quickly. But, Merlin, the man was a phenomenal kisser, so she really couldn't take too much of the blame.

She sighed, and her reflection in the mirror sighed, too. So why was she second-guessing herself?

Standing in her slightly chilly bedroom in nothing but her underwear, she was particularly unimpressed with the sight before her. The hazy warmth of their last mind-numbing kiss was very far away. In her lonely bedroom that had only ever seen one occupant before—well, two with Crookshanks—she had trouble seeing herself as the same sexy woman that teased and flirted and grew heated at a knowing glance from across the room.

She was afraid that woman was an illusion. She dressed right, she entered a room confidently, she delivered a saucy wink with just the right amount of sauce, she responded to a kiss with all the fire that Gryffindors were known for. She desperately wanted to be that woman, the woman she thought she'd been before…before Ron.

The bed behind her that she could glimpse in the mirror was brand new and had never once seen her ex-fiancé in it. But almost as if it was playing directly from her memories, she could picture him lying there, the disdainful look on his face as she tried to be the things he'd asked for.

He'd said she was boring in bed—unimaginative, stiff, passionless. "Merlin, Hermione, you'd think you could give me a little something to work with, yeah?"

At first it had been more of a joke, how she was 'too vanilla' and how she'd obviously never read any of the more 'interesting' books in the Restricted Section. But the comments had slowly gotten meaner, and had hit her harder where she hadn't realized she was vulnerable. He made fun of her boyish slim body, frequently lamenting about how it would have been so nice if her breasts were bigger, plumper, fuller. Completely popping out of her blouse, in other words, as was clear whenever he saw a woman who was much more generously endowed and he would waggle his eyebrows at Hermione as if to say, 'See? Like that.'

Once, she'd made an attempt at dirty talk, after spending several days meticulously scouring the shelves for something that could teach her how to be more fun, more sexy in bed. She'd ended up in a Muggle pharmacy in Derby with several tabloid magazines that all advertised lessons in exactly what she was looking for. She'd charmed the covers to look like something more innocuous and then sat on a bench far away from home trying to decipher if what 'every man wanted' was what her man wanted.

She'd no sooner got partway through some of the phrases she'd memorized when he'd suddenly said, "Hermione, just stop, you're no bloody good at this."

She shook her head, trying to clear that voice from her thoughts. She well remembered how her eyes had welled up with tears but he hadn't noticed because he'd long past decided sex with her was better in the dark. He'd just finished up like he normally did, and she'd waited for him to fall asleep before she crept out of bed and incinerated all of those magazines.

No, she wasn't afraid of sex. But she was afraid that Draco was going to buy into the illusion that she'd been giving him. She'd almost convinced herself that it wasn't an illusion, that she'd grown and changed and healed and exorcised those voices that mostly just sounded like Ron's. But then she'd made the mistake of looking into the mirror, foolishly wondering which of two short dresses was more likely to drive Draco batty, and she'd caught a glimpse of herself looking exactly the same as she'd looked last year—last year when Ron had been cheating on her with Merlin knew how many women.

She was suddenly very afraid that when she was finally stripped down to just what there was in the mirror, that Draco was going to be disappointed. And she didn't think she could bear that. Not again.

Her wand chimed a warning that she had ten minutes before she had to meet Draco. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the view in front of her, and resisted the urge to whimper in panic.

She was stronger than this. She was a Gryffindor. Even when she was afraid, she faced those fears and moved forward.

She told herself, in a litany that was almost comfortable, so many times had she said it, that Ronald Weasley was an arse. A foolish, selfish, ignorant buffoon whose opinions, however loudly he might express them, did not constitute fact. He still thought the Cannons were a good team, for Merlin's sake! And he married Lavender Brown, after all, so the joke—the cosmic joke—must surely be on him.

With eyes still closed, she turned from the mirror and opened them to look again at the two dresses still laid out on her bed. With a deep breath she chose the lighter of the two, a casual golden brown that reminded her of natural sugar, remembering that Draco had said his favorite color was brown. The sleeves were long and the neckline modest, limiting skin contact. But the hem fell to well above her knees, drawing attention to her legs, which would look great in the new chocolate boots she'd bought last month. It would make her feel sexy. And then maybe it would be true.

Her hands shook only a tiny bit as she buttoned herself into the dress, forcefully pushing away all the negative thoughts that were still clamoring for attention, and instead focusing on the fact that it might be someone else's hands unbuttoning her at the end of the night.

She thought of the smirk on Draco's face when he'd kissed her that morning and flipped open the topmost button on her blouse. She'd swatted him, but he'd seemed so pleased with himself that she'd left it that way for the rest of the day, pretending not to notice when his eye fell on it during the lunch they ate with Harry. The memory of his dark eyes rekindled a tiny flame in her belly and sent a shiver of warmth through her.

Whether it was that or the fact that she was finally clothed, the cold that had felt like it was seeping into her bones was almost entirely chased away. She smiled to herself, and didn't glance in the mirror even once on her way out the door.

~oOo~

Hermione was surprised as they walked into The Den. She didn't know what she had been expecting of a pub Draco frequented, but this wasn't it. The place was positively warm and welcoming. She did a double-take looking around to make sure that they hadn't mistaken the location.

The tables and chairs were all made of wood, looked to be hand-crafted, and had a cheerful kind of wear and tear on the glossy finishes that said good friends frequently met here. There were window boxes hanging along the walls that looked to contain a variety of herbs that didn't seem to serve any other purpose than freshening the air.

Against one wall was the bar. It was clean and open, surrounded by several laughing faces and she could hear the sounds of ice rattling in glasses.

As Draco pulled her towards a little table in the far corner, she looked up to see that the ceiling was painted a light yellow giving the impression of a bright, sunny sky. She liked it, actually. It seemed like a wonderful homey place and she was surprised she'd never heard of it before.

She felt instantly at ease. Her nerves from earlier had begun dissipating, almost as if by magic, from the moment that she'd met up with Draco and he'd taken her hand. His eyes had darkened just a little as he took in her short skirt and her bare legs. He hadn't remarked on either, though his hand had squeezed hers just a little bit tighter.

By the time they'd arrived at the pub, she'd almost forgotten those fragile thoughts in front of the mirror at home, reveling in Draco's hot glances and the kiss he'd stolen right before he opened the door and ushered her in.

The atmosphere of the pub itself did a lot to soothe her remaining nerves, especially about appearing in public in the Wizarding World together. Thus far they'd avoided anywhere that would have reporters who might be tempted to print sensational stories about the two of them. But they hadn't discussed their plans, and she was surprised that Draco had wanted to go out at all.

She was even more surprised that Draco seemed to be comfortable with both the ambience and the company of the kind of wizards and witches that would spend time here. In his dark turtleneck and trousers, covered with his dark robes, Draco seemed unusually pale and out of place. His platinum hair which sometimes seemed harsh and as bright as a beacon out in the sunlight, seemed softened by the yellow ceiling-sky.

Where the others all seemed to be wearing simple clothing, Draco's expensive robes and boots marked him as an outsider. Strangely, no one else seemed to notice or remark upon what must surely be an unusual guest.

Draco's glance around the room was quick and though she expected him to make an assessment of the room as all of her other Auror friends habitually did, she rather thought he was looking for something. After a moment, during which she was sure he'd noted every person in the room, his attention turned to her. Whatever he was checking for, he didn't seem to find it, and he seemed rather satisfied about that.

"Would you like me to get you a drink?" he offered, pulling a chair out for her to sit in.

She smiled at him. "I'll have a glass of elderflower wine," she said, and he went off towards the bar to get their order.

She stared at him as he walked away, wondering why he seemed so much more at ease than usual. Whenever they were out in public he tended to be very stiff and wary of his surroundings. There must be something about the place that made him feel comfortable. She could understand why. In just the few moments she'd been there, she felt a wonderful warm feeling of what she could only term as … acceptance.

While she was trying to figure out why that might be, the door to the pub opened and she spied a couple of familiar faces. Ernie McMillan entered the pub laughing, followed by Susan Bones, who was smiling, as if they'd just shared an inside joke.

Susan Bones and Ernie MacMillan were Aurors in Harry's department, so she had seen them frequently whenever visiting with Harry and Ron. Susan had been in several of Hermione's classes at Hogwarts, and the two had been good friends. After the Battle of Hogwarts, many of the surviving members of Dumbledore's Army had gone straight into Auror training, and no one was surprised that Susan was one of them. Her family had been viciously slaughtered by Voldemort in the First Wizarding War, and she'd lost her aunt shortly before the outbreak of the Second one. She was a good dueller, with steady hands and a clever mind. Harry had mentioned more than once how Susan was a solid addition to any team.

Ernie was a bit of a different story. No one was quite sure how he ended up being an Auror. He was a bit more academically inclined, much like Hermione was, and though he had also been a member of DA, the skillset he offered to the Auror department was a lot harder to pinpoint. For a short (ridiculously short) period of time he'd been partnered with Draco. For his own safety, he was reassigned. But Ernie was well-liked—he was considered a good bloke, reliable and trustworthy, and he was quick with a joke and a smile.

His eyes lit up as they landed on Hermione, and he elbowed Susan to point her out in the crowd. Susan's distinctive auburn plait swung behind her as she turned to wave at Hermione. The two then turned to look behind them as a third member of their party came in, and they must have said something to her, because Hannah Abbot's eyes zeroed in on Hermione as well. Her mouth opened in a little "o" of surprise, and the three exchanged quick glances among themselves.

But then they were all smiles and waves, and before Hermione knew what was happening, there were hugs and claps on the shoulder as if she didn't see them regularly at work.

A couple of other small tables were wobbled over and placed adjacent to her little square, and the edges magically sealed together to form a larger table. As Hermione looked around the room, she noticed that all of the tables were made up of magically joined smaller tables. Apparently, it was very common to push tables together and join parties.

Chairs were also pulled up, and Hermione had just enough presence of mind to pull one chair next to her for when Draco got back.

"Hermione!" Ernie exclaimed, settling himself into the chair Hermione had just tried to save. "What brings you here?"

But before she could answer, a wine glass was settled in front of her, and she looked up to see that the irritable taciturn look had returned to Draco's face. "MacMillan, get out of my chair," he ordered, without preamble.

Ernie waved at him dismissively. "Now, now, Malfoy, I was just saying hello. Look who's here! It's Hermione!"

Across the table, Hermione caught Hannah Abbot trying not to snicker. Susan also wore a slight smile on her face that seemed to be directed at Ernie. Or Draco. Or both.

"Out, MacMillan. Now." It was the tone of voice that usually made even battle-hardened Aurors quiver a bit in fear. Draco's hand wasn't anywhere near his wand, but everyone knew that Draco Malfoy didn't need his wand to be dangerous.

"Oh, he's in a good mood today," Susan observed.

Ernie, whether because of a special skill or a lack of an important quality of self-preservation, didn't seem remotely fazed by Draco's tone. "Blimey, Drake, I was just being friendly." He slowly, deliberately, shifted himself one seat over. "Better?"

Draco just glared and pulled out the chair to seat himself, one arm casually draping across the back of Hermione's chair. He didn't touch her, but Hermione felt the heat of his arm and knew it for the (not at all) subtle gesture of possessiveness that it was. It might have made her irritated if he had made a big show of it, but instead it made her feel quite warm, and she leaned back into his touch, readily absorbing the shiver that came when his fingers trailed lightly across her shoulder. She gave him the tiniest of smiles and thought she saw his eyes soften in answer before he schooled his expression back to stern.

Then he turned to address the others at the table. "None of you were here when we came in," Draco stated, almost accusatorily. The implication that they were unwelcome was completely ignored by the Hufflepuffs.

"Just came in, mate!" Ernie said, cheerily, as if it was the greatest good fortune to have found them.

Susan put her hand up to hide her grin, but when her eyes met Hannah's, she snorted and then quickly took a sip from one of the water glasses that had just been served to their table.

"Well, you can go right back out again," was Draco's surly reply.

"Malfoy," Ernie protested. "You would toss us out without even a drink? Susan and I just got off-duty and spent the whole day in the misty rain because Potter told us no water-repelling charms. We need something to warm us up!"

Draco sneered at them. "That's what Warming Charms are for."

Ernie looked at Susan in surprise. "A Warming Charm? Why didn't we think of that?"

Susan gave him a wry grin. "Yes, why didn't we think of a Warming Charm to get warm, I wonder?" She snapped her fingers. "Oh, that's right, that's what I used."

The pained look on Ernie's face made the rest of the group laugh. "I can't believe you didn't tell me—me, your loyal partner. I bet Potter makes sure Malfoy has a Warming Charm, even though Malfoy would probably bite his head off for suggesting he doesn't have ice running through his veins."

Draco scowled. "This is why you weren't invited, MacMillan. You can't keep a decent tongue in your head."

Ernie frowned in mock hurt.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Hannah chimed in. "It's a public place after all, and if you didn't want company, you wouldn't be at The Den. You practically invited him just by sitting here, after all."

Ernie nodded in agreement. Then he gestured at Hermione with a warm smile, "Draco, always the showoff, is just trying to show how he's snagged the prettiest girl in the Ministry!"

Susan elbowed him in the side, her rolling eyes giving a clear opinion of his flattery.

"Ouch! Okay," he corrected himself, rubbing a hand over his fake injured rib, "the smartest girl in the Ministry, is that better?"

"No, MacMillan!" Susan playfully protested. "You're shite at giving compliments, just stop now."

Hermione laughed again, enjoying the good-natured joking among the friends. "Thank you, anyway, Ernie. It's not every day someone calls you the prettiest girl and the smartest girl, anywhere."

Ernie looked over at Draco, who was still glaring daggers at him. Then he shook his head in mock disappointment. "Not every day? You are clearly with the wrong man. If I might make a suggesti—"

Abruptly, his words were cut off with a yelp as a foot (that was no doubt boot-clad) connected rather mercilessly with his shin. "Bloody hell mate! It's been a long day! You can't hold off with the physical abuse?"

"Maybe if you stopped talking, MacMillan, I wouldn't have to keep hurting you," Draco said, through gritted teeth.

In an effort to distract the boys from getting further into an argument (but really to protect poor Ernie), Hermione tried to change the subject and Hannah went to go order some food for the group. "So what was it that had you and Susan out in the rain all day with no water-repelling charms?"

The mood suddenly sobered up a little bit as Ernie and Draco exchanged glances. When Ernie looked at Susan for help, she simply shrugged.

"We were on a stakeout. Top secret, confidential, and all that."

Turning to look at Draco, Hermione asked, "Is it the same thing you've been working on all week?"

Draco didn't answer, but his silence and the serious look on his face provided the affirmative.

When no one else in the group was forthcoming with more information, Hermione said casually, "We've had some interesting cases to work with lately, as well. It's not common knowledge, but it's not exactly secret, so I can share it with you. We had a rescued Lethifold recently that had to get sent back to Papua New Guinea. It wasn't clear how it ended up here, though we've got some leads we're running down. But it was quite the difficulty keeping it subdued and locked up, as the only thing that works on Lethifolds is the Patronus charm."

The Hufflepuffs made brief noises of interest and agreement. Draco, however, suddenly looked at her very sharply. "A Lethifold?" His brow was furrowed in thought, and Hermione could tell he was thinking of something specific.

"Nasty thing," she said. "Some thought we should just kill it outright, but for whatever reason the Tribal Council of Magic insisted we return it to them. I'm glad I had very little to do with the situation, other than quite a bit of research into methods for handling."

"Why do Patronuses work on Lethifolds?" Draco asked. "I thought they were only for Dementors."

Hermione thought for a moment, trying to rifle through her memories. The little information she'd found about the strange tropical beasts discussed more of their carnivorous appetites and the danger of its victims being caught unawares, rather than the mechanics of their magic. "I'd assume it has something to do with the nature of what they feed on. Like Dementors, they feed on despair and negativity, quite literally sucking the life-force out of someone before digesting the husk. Lethifolds are much less humanlike and cannot negotiate for their food, so they just stalk their prey and hunt whatever is closest. Dementors are repelled by the magic of one very powerful happy memory. It stands to reason that if the Patronus will repel the Dementors by fighting their darkness with light, that the Lethifolds can be fought a similar way. That is, if they don't catch their victims sleeping and suffocate them first." She paused and then added, "And then eat them."

Ernie shivered. "I hope we don't have to deal with any more of those. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have nightmares of death by Lethifold."

Draco didn't acknowledge Ernie's remark, but it was clear he agreed with the sentiment. Lethifolds and Dementors were truly scary creatures. When he spoke, though, it was very quietly, so low she could barely hear him. The other Auror had to lean in to catch his words, and the sense of urgency behind them caused Hermione's own instincts to twinge in warning. "Is there a way someone could mimic a Dementor or a Lethifold?"

"What do you mean?"

"A spell, perhaps, or a curse," Draco explained. "Something that would suck out the goodness or the happiness, or the wizard's very soul, in a way that Dementors and Lethifolds do. Would that be possible?"

His tone of voice sent a slight chill down her spine. "It's possible." She raised one hand to forestall any comments, as she wasn't entirely sure. " But I don't know why anyone would want to. Dementors and Lethifolds get energy and sustenance from their...activities. A wizard wouldn't have any gain, or any way to use what was sucked out, other than as a weapon to incapacitate someone, and surely there are better spells for that."

There was quiet at the table as they all contemplated the horror of someone mimicking the soul-sucking capabilities of Dementors and willfully performing the Kiss on whoever they wanted.

"There'd be no purpose," Hermione whispered. "Easier to Avada someone when they aren't looking if all you wanted to do was kill them."

Draco knocked back the rest of his drink, and put it empty on the table. Then he said, "Do me a favor, Granger, don't talk about this with anyone else." He looked over at Ernie who was still following their quiet conversation very closely, a thoughtful look on his face, even though Hannah and Susan were engaged in their own conversation. "And you, MacMillan," Draco began, warningly, not bothering to finish his threat.

Ernie just nodded, for once not being difficult. He looked questioningly over at Susan, his partner.

Draco shook his head and said, "Later." Hermione understood that the subject was closed, but she made a note to herself to ask him about it much later. Perhaps there was more insight she could give into whatever problem he was working through.

Looking around at their solemn faces, Ernie changed gears and clapped his hands loudly, to get the attention of the other two women. His expression was suddenly mischievous. "Say, Draco, I think it's your turn to buy us all a round, yeah?"

A/N: Well this was quick! Comparatively! I do hope to get chapters out a bit quicker, as I really want to end this story this summer. I've got a fantastic beta working with me and cheering me on, as well as a whole team of amazing authors that give fantastic support. The next two chapters are already well on their way to being finished and ready, so I'm hoping to post one if not both later this month as well. (Well, let's say one, so nobody get's their hopes up.)

The next chapter is the rest of this date, and now that we've got the serious stuff out of the way, we can have a bit of fun. Yes...that's exactly what I mean. ;-)

Also, be sure to check out my latest one-shot Draft of Living Death, which was just posted after winning a one-shot competition. I'm very proud of it, as it's very angsty and unlike me. Read if you're looking to ugly-cry all day, LOL.