"About time! Ginny explained almost as soon as Hermione stepped inside the flat they shared. The younger witch was sitting on the couch with a bowl of oatmeal balanced on one hand.

Darn!

Hermione had hoped Ginny would be too busy sleeping at this hour to interrogate her.

Ginny swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal before she waved her spoon at Hermione. "Report with the dirt, woman!"

"What specifically do you want to know?" she asked Ginny.

"Everything, duh! Who was he? How did it go? What did you do? Are you going to see him again?" her friend peppered her with questions.

Hermione bit back her desire to reveal to Ginny the identity of her blind date; however, she needed time to process everything that happened herself before she involved a third party opinion and judgement.

"No names, remember?" she taunted her matchmaker.

"You and Draco are no fun." Ginny pouted.

"It was pretty great though," Hermione told her friend, as she grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator. "He was very interesting … and just so …" She trailed off with a sigh. All words were quite inadequate to describe Lucius Malfoy. Nothing seemed to quite fit how he made her feel.

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So what did he look like? Draco said he was older, but not like old man old, right?" Ginny pressed on.

Hermione could hardly recognize her voice as she spoke, "Oh, no. He was … very handsome. Very sexy. He has this crazy charisma. It was unnerving at first, but then … we ended up having a great time."

Ginny smirked. "I could tell when you didn't come home last night! I take it you'll be seeing each other again?"

"Not exactly," she said, swirling her spoon over the yogurt. "We didn't make any definite plans. Honestly, I think it was just a one time deal, which is why I agreed to go home with him in the first place."

Ginny's face scrunched with confusion. "Wait a minute, I thought you said it went great? How is it great if you decided for it to be a one-off?"

Hermione chewed on her lip. "It's kind of … complicated. He told me he'll write me, but I was less than enthusiastic about his offer."

"Okay, what?" The redhead sounded more frustrated than confused. "How do you end up having a great time and then don't want to see each other again?"

"I ruined it." Hermione sighed in disappointment, her appetite for breakfast gone. "He was trying to be nice this morning and I blew him off. In the moment, I thought he was either politely letting me down or was offering to make this a regular hook up. Then I went over the entire interaction and he was actually trying to offer me exactly what I wanted and now I feel stupid for turning him down. I guess I've been so used to rejection post-Ron that I misinterpreted all signals."

"Aw, don't feel bad. If he meant what he said, then he'll reach out," Ginny assured her. "At least he will if he doesn't buy into sex on the first date double standard, which would make him a total prick if he did."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think he buys into it. He mentioned that he didn't, at any rate."

"Won't you please tell me who it was?" Ginny pleaded. "I'm dying here!"

"If I do, you have to promise to be open-minded," Hermione warned her.

"I promise, I promise! Just tell me."

"Well, Draco may not have been completely honest with you when he called this man his friend," Hermione began.

Ginny's expression darkened. "I don't like where this is going. Who is this guy then?"

"Draco's father."

The bowl that Ginny was holding toppled over, it's contents spilling all over Ginny's pajama-clad lap.

"Shit!" she cursed, grabbing at her wand and casting a cleaning charm.

Hermione waved her wand at the bits of oatmeal that dribbled to the floor.

"I told him hundred and seventy seven times that I didn't have any friends for his shady father! He shouldn't have misled me by telling me it's a friend when it's one person I refused to do this for," Ginny fumed.

"May I ask why?" Hermione inquired, a bit taken a back by her friend's strong reaction.

"It's all Draco's misplaced guilt. When his father was in Azkaban, his mum became sort of … reclusive. He was trying to cheer her up and encouraged her to become involved in local social clubs, like bird watching or something. Long story short, she met someone and left Mr. Malfoy for him. Draco feels so unreasonably responsible for it. Ever since his father got out, he's made it into some unholy mission to make it up to him."

"By setting him up on blind dates?" There was an undisguised note of skepticism in Hermione's voice. "I suppose there hasn't been much luck in that department since Draco's asked you to be indirectly involved?"

Ginny snorted. "I guess not, because who wants to be seen with a Death Eater these days?"

Hermione threw her a glare. "Um… did you forget something? You're friends with a former Death Eater. It's not contagious, you know."

"That's different," Ginny argued. "Draco was a kid then. No one holds anyone accountable for stuff they did when they were, like, sixteen. His father, on the other hand, was an adult who knew better. He earned every bit of his Azkaban sentence, which is why no self-respecting witch will want to be seen with him. Unless she's desperately gold-digging."

"I was seen with him, and I'm not suddenly dabbling in Dark Arts," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm sorry, but this screams midlife crisis for him. Plus, he has way too much baggage for you. A wife who left him while he was locked up is bound to leave all kinds of trust issues. If it's not midlife crisis, then it's a definite rebound. Again, this is why I didn't want to be involved in Draco's daddy matchmaking scheme."

"Well, I didn't notice any trust issues or rebounding. I had a good time with him. Besides, I thought you wanted me to have fun on account of me becoming a crazy cat lady and all," Hermione countered, getting up and walking back to the kitchen to eat her meager breakfast at the counter. Her appetite still eluded her, but she knew she had to get something in her stomach before the train ride to Manchester.

Ginny followed her. "Fun for him, you mean. I don't want you to get your hopes up only for him to hurt you."

"Get my hopes up for what, Ginny? It was one date. You told me spontaneity is good for the soul, so I did something spontaneous. Like I said, it's probably a one-off anyway, so don't stress over his intentions."

"Not necessarily. I once thought being with Daemon was going to be a one-off, but we ended up dating for six months. You never know, right?"

Hermione gave Ginny a skeptical look. "Didn't you just tell me that it's a bad idea to see him?"

Yawning, the redhead leaned back against the counter. "It's too early to deal with this. Anyway, it's not my place to tell you not to see someone, especially after being all pushy about it. The thing is, I'm not surprised you clicked with someone more mature. I always thought you'd have more in common with an older wizard than anyone our age. I'm glad you had fun."

"I really did. Now I'd better get ready. I don't want to miss my train." Hermione said, rushing off to her room.

"Is Harry still going to drive you to the station?" Ginny called after her.

"He said he was."

"Then I'm going back to bed."

Hermione heard Ginny's bedroom door click shut and chuckled at her roommate. If only she could have stayed in bed to lounge around today … with a certain wizard between the sheets with her.

Shaking her head, she tried to let go of the image of Lucius in bed with her as she quickly showered and changed, but her brain wasn't cooperating. The date topped anything she had ever experienced and his revelations about seeing her in the spring were … very intriguing. That would explain why he didn't run for the hills when she showed up. If he was so interested in her – even if it was purely driven by sex at the time – why didn't he ever do anything about it?

What did it matter to her anyway? She had other things to concentrate on.

Hermione resolved not to think anymore about that wizard until the conference was over. After all, she was fairly sure he wasn't wasting his morning by reminiscing about her.

Even hours after she left his London home, Lucius could still smell her on him. It was impossible, he knew that because he showered this morning, washing off all the remnants of last night's delights; washing off her kisses and caresses; washing off the connection made over the course of one day. He knew it wasn't possible to have any physical traces of her whatsoever on him.

Yet her sweet fragrance still remained in his nostrils.

He closed his eyes and could almost picture her sitting next to him, exactly as she was when they were watching that film. Lucius allowed himself to relive the touch of her skin on his fingers, the taste of her kiss. The kiss that could not possibly be their first kiss, for it didn't feel new.

He could still smell her on him. Did she know what her fragrance did to him yesterday? Could she possibly know?

And now, despite the physical separation between them, did she possess enough magic to know what her fragrance did to him now, as he sat alone in his home contemplating? Remembering? Imagining? Could she see the flow of blood throughout his body then or now? The flow filling the vessels, arteries, and capillaries, bringing a turgid rise beneath the layers of his clothing?

Her fragrance ought to have dissipated, washed away … yet it remained. It persisted in the face of time, and he could still smell her on him. How could any magic explain it? Not a stitch of yesterday's clothing was present on his body, and his skin was cleansed of his experience, so how could her lingering scent be explained?

Could she sense that from where she was? Could she feel his cock in her own hand, as he now took it within his? Could she see the color change as the blood fills it and darkens the flesh into a solid reminder of the fluid nature of their experiences? Is she touching her own flesh as she imagines his? As he inhaled and recalled her scent, was she doing the same with his?

Yes, Lucius could still smell her upon him. But as he imagined lowering his face to her sex, and inhaling her arousal, with no doubts remaining that the gentle fragrance is the one that emanates from within her flesh – the feral scent of her arousal – and not any bottled concoction.

Did she feel him now, as Lucius imagined his lips parting, and his tongue emerging so as to penetrate her fleshy folds? Did she feel him as he tasted her arousal, the moisture on his tongue now indistinguishable from the moisture between her own vulva? Did she know that there is a direct conduit between his tongue and his memory, and once he tasted her, once her taste became part of him, he would never forget? Lucius will never be able to taste again without drawing from his memory her unique taste?

Her fragrance was still with him, and he imagined her arousal providing him with a new fragrance, as he parted her folds with his tongue and as his nose and face are buried in her, between her, upon her. He inhaled and taken in life, not mere oxygen, but life, made up of equal parts desire and respect. A life that was full of promise and something like hope. Just because his marriage was over didn't mean that his life was as well.

He inhaled her fragrance again. It made it easier to imagine that it was her hand upon his erect cock, stroking him, and not his own. It made it easier to imagine that it was his tongue now exploring her moist and hidden recesses, not her own hand or some object penetrating her. He wanted so much for it to be his mouth, his lips sucking her pink folds into his mouth, caressing them with his tongue, drawing designs upon her clitoris, writing letter by letter upon it to spell out his silent messages to her. Lucius would have no need for words as his tongue would write out his story upon her body.

As he released his climax upon his belly, he knew he could feel her tongue, tasting him as it draws so slowly and gently across his flesh. He could feel her lips surround the shaft as she tasted him and drank the last drops of his orgasm and savored him the same way he have savored her.

The light grew dim outside his window. Soon the sun would set and Lucius would be alone in the darkness. And yet not entirely so. She was not gone, and her fragrance was still within his nostrils, her taste still upon his lips. Her kiss a sweetness that lingered on his lips. Her fragrance filled his lungs and he was calm because of that vital scent.

Did she know any of this? Could she possibly guess? Did her magic let her see him now, lying half-nude with his arousal still lingering after his climax? Did she know that as they had sat beside one another yesterday, she brought life into him? Did she know that with her words, she was stroking him as they sat together? Did she know that with her fragrance, she was caressing his flesh? Touching his flesh? Imbuing his flesh with her own sex?

It's a pity she meant only to leave it at one night. A terrible pity. He never forced his attentions where they were clearly unwelcome. Never in his life had he ever had to ask for something twice. In fact, it was against his personal code to do so. Still … such a terrible pity. He didn't meet witches like her every day. If the circumstances were different, he wanted very much to see how their story would have played out.

On Tuesdays, as usual, the weekly family dinner at his mother's estate was almost always a blitzkrieg of interrogation and admonishment for Lucius. The Malfoy matriarch felt compelled to voice her disappointment and concern with Lucius's life and used these weekly gatherings to do so.

"Draco told me you were seeing someone last Sunday," she said, taking a long sip of wine.

Judas! Lucius thought, throwing his son a glare. Draco merely shrugged back. No one in their family knew how to keep a proper secret. Lucius knew that his mother blamed him for the failure of his marriage. In her traditional view, it was up to the man to keep his family together, no matter what.

"Yes, what of it?" Lucius tried to keep his tone light.

"Tell me about her. What's this one like?"

"Ginny said she's really smart … very intellectual. A bit younger than father," Draco chimed in.

"A bit? How much is a bit these days?" The elderly witch asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

Lucius slowly sipped his wine before answering, "By twenty-five years."

"Twenty-five years! You're not going to find a good lady of the manor, if you're blinded by lust. You need a woman, not a girl." She turned to Draco, "Draco, go have some dessert in the summer gardens."

Draco knew he was being dismissed from the conversation and stomped out with an air of a resentful adolescent, rather than a wizard in his early adulthood.

"Lucius," his mother began in familiar scolding tone, "you need to stop with foolish reactions and set your priorities straight. If you want to find a new wife, do so rationally and soberly. Don't be like every other middle-aged wizard who thinks with the wrong head and falls into a trap of some young floozy."

Lucius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Mother, it was one date. She's lovely, but it's not serious enough to start planning matrimony. It's not something I'm interested in doing again, so do not fret on that account. I know you don't approve of my choices, but I don't feel like arguing with you tonight."

"What if it gets serious?" she asked.

It much too soon to think about it. In fact, they may not have to because Hermione Granger made it clear that she wasn't eager to pursue anything further with him. But he didn't want to add to his lists of failings.

He took another sip of wine. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"And if it does, do you really think someone so young would be fit to be your wife? Your position comes with many responsibilities. Have your fun, but don't try to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

"Her age has nothing to do with my interest. I'm not interested in her because she makes me feel younger or for any other lecherous reasons." It wasn't entirely true, but it's not something his mother needs to know.

"So you're going to pursue this further?" she queried.

"Yes." The word defiantly flew out of his mouth before he could fully process the question. He really wished his mother would stop interfering or offering her unsolicited opinions on every decision he's made since receiving his freedom. Sometimes he wished she'd remained in Baden Baden to continue to take the waters.

His mother pursed her lips. "You're being foolish, Lucius. You're not as young as you like to think, though men seldom want to admit it. A woman twenty-five years your junior is more likely to follow in Narcissa's footsteps than you'd care to admit. Is that what you want? Another failed marriage? The House of Malfoy has been tainted enough without another divorce."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "She's not interested in marriage, Mother, and neither am I. Can we change the subject, please?"

Mrs. Malfoy smacked her lips in disapproval. "You're a grown man, Lucius. You can make your own choices. Take care, however, not to let your lust make a fool out of yourself. Wiser men than you have been reduced to dimwits by a pair of fine gams."

Lucius nodded in supposed agreement. He had a powerful urge to break his personal rule on this. He would reach out to Hermione Granger. Just once.

And he would do so tonight.

Coming up: second chance, second date! There are no rules when it comes to those two :-)

Thank you all so very much for reading and sharing your impressions!

Lana