AN: Hope you enjoy this third chapter! A little more flirty and fun before things get serious in chapter four! Hope you all enjoy x

Chapter Three

"Hello, Madame, Sir. It's lovely to see you again." The handsome waiter said to them. "Reservation under Malfoy?"

"Yes, that's us." Draco smiled.

"Engaged?" He asked, handing them the menus.

"No." Hermione said, quickly.

"Hey! That came out a little too quickly!"Draco said, looking slightly hurt.

"So, Miss Granger, your hair looks lovely tonight. I was wondering if you might like to go out later." The waiter said.

"Excuse me. Would you mind not asking out my girlfriend, in front of me?" Draco said, bluntly.

"I'm sorry, but I thought that you were just friends..."

"You thought wrong." snapped Hermione.

"Sorry. Rosita will be your waitress tonight." He said, before scampering off.

"Seriously, the audacity of some! I think that some people will be worse though, Draco. Especially during these early days. People will be confused, I think. They probably are already, if Rita Skeeter's article was anything to go on."

"Early days?" Draco said, looking at Hermione, amused. "Will there be later ones?"

Hermione's sullen expression vanished.

"Maybe." She grinned, mysteriously, before following Rosita to their table.

"Harry, I'm worried about Teddy." Ginny confessed.

"Why, Gin?" He asked her.

"I fear that he doesn't fit into his school very well."

"Because of the morphing? because I think that he's very good at controlling himself."

"No. No, I think that he's fine in amongst muggles. I'm worried about muggle things. I mean, he can never have muggle friends over and he can't talk about quidditch or any wizarding things. Do you think he has any friends?"

"He has Ellen and Peter. He's always talking about them, isn't he? Also, he went to that football match at Craven Cottage with Jonathan, didn't he?"

"Yes, I know he has friends, I suppose I'm just being silly."

"No." Harry interjected. "I worry too.

FLASHBACK

"Oh Merlin, Teddy, where is your coat?" A hot, flustered Harry was scrabbling about on the cloakroom floor, in amongst piles of coats.

"Oh yeah, I didn't bring my coat." Teddy said, sheepishly.

Harry stood up and folded his arms. "You are a toad." He smiled.

Teddy giggled.

"Mr Potter." Came a sickly sweet voice.

"Yes." Answered Harry.

"May I have a word?"

"Of course." Harry emerged from the small, dark cloakroom, his hair even more untidy than usual, signalling to Teddy to stay in the cloakroom.

"I'm a little worried about Teddy." Ms Crawford smiled, in a way that reminded Harry of Dolores Umbridge.

"Oh?" Harry said.

"Yes. It is, naturally, common for young boys to have big imaginations."

Harry nodded.

"However, Teddy is beginning to scare the other boys with his stories, during creative writing lessons."

Harry supressed a snort. "Um, such as?"

Ms Crawford looked around, for effect, as if she were looking to see if anyone were listening.

"He makes up dreadful tales of dark magic." She whispered, then, raising her voice, she added: "He seems to admire you very much, Mr Potter, you're always the hero of his stories."

The toadlike smile crept back onto her face, distorting her delicate features.

"Teddy, let's go; Mummy's made dinner." Harry called to Teddy, who then emerged from the cloakroom.

"Teddy! You are not to scare the other children with 'dreadful tales of dark magic'!" Harry said, once they had rounded the corner from the school. Teddy grinned.

"Sorry, Daddy." He said.

Harry laughed. "Are you ready to apparate?"

"Yes." Teddy said, taking his father's arm.

Harry felt the familiar tug and sensation of apparition.

END FLASHBACK

Dinner went marvellously and by the time they had finished their meal and paid the bill, it was ten o'clock. This time, Hermione refused to let Draco pay and she paid, without hearing a single complaint from Draco, after casting a full body bind and silencio on him.

"So, what do you want to do?" Draco asked her, as they walked the streets of Figsbury. Draco had taken off his robe and jumper, after finally admitting that he was actually baking hot. Hermione had put them in her beaded bag, which was now slipped easily over her shoulder. He was now wearing a Wizardmodusos top and his muggle jeans.

"Let's go to yours and play hide and seek, it's big enough." Hermione joked.

"Yes, well it is a mansion." Draco pointed out. "But hide and seek is boring." He said, seriously. "Let's go salsa dancing." He suggested, acting as if he had just thought of it on the spur of the moment, but in truth he had been planning to take her to Mexico since he had left her after their kiss. Before Hermione could reply, Draco grabbed her arm and disapparated.

"I see what you meant." Hermione said, dryly. "It isn't pleasant apparating when one is unaware of it. Where are we?" She asked, as she looked around.

It was beautiful. The rounded walls were wooden and there were about a hundred tables with wicker chairs around them, which were around the dance floor in the middle of the room. Beautiful women were dancing with handsome men, twirling and stepping in time to the lively mexican music, played by a band of older Mexican men, who were on a platform, high up above. It was dark, with coloured lights flashing around and many people drinking exotic cocktails and eating bits and bobs.

"We are in a place in Mexico. I forget exactly where we are. I came here once with one of my friends from Romania. He had left his girlfriend here and she hadn't passed her apparition test. I was backup for him, in case she attacked him." He rolled his eyes.

"Another friend? It's surprising how many you actually have, being you." Hermione said, cheekily.

"Do you want a drink, before we dance? I have some muggle money." Draco said.

"You, Draco Malfoy, have muggle money?" Hermione asked, before pretending to faint.

"Yes, I do. Would you like a drink?" He repeated, before taking her hand and sidling to the bar, where he ordered two salted caramel margaritas. Hermione laughed at his choice, but enjoyed the drink all the same.

"So how is it that you just happen to have Peso in your wallet?" Hermione enquired.

Why did she have to ask questions? Draco felt his face turn scarlet.

"If you must know, I planned this." He admitted.

"It was a good plan." Hermione smiled. "A wonderful plan, in fact."

She leant in and kissed his lips, gently, lingering for only a second, before pulling away and smiling, slyly.

"Let's dance." She said, taking Draco's glass and putting it on the table, next to her own. They made their way to the huge dance floor and began to get used to the music.

Hermione was very good at salsa dancing. She stepped and twirled easily, in time to the music. She was one of the best dancers there, but Draco was better. Draco twirled and stepped as elegantly as a flamingo. Hermione followed his lead and, after a few fast-paced dances, almost every pair of eyes were on them.

This, however, may have been due to the fact that they were in the centre of the dance floor and were constantly bumping into people, but it was probably due to the graceful way in which Draco and Hermione were salsa dancing.

"Draco, I think everyone is staring at us." Hermione said, while he held her waist and stepped in time to the music.

"Yes, it's because you have loo roll trailing behind you." Draco whispered, looking very serious.

"What?" There was a look of panic and embarrassment in Hermione's eyes, as she spun her head round, so fast that she almost got whiplash, to see if there really was loo roll stuck to her.

Draco laughed, as he twirled Hermione, but the smile was wiped off his face when she punched his arm and said, "You're so annoying."

"Ah, yes. But you love me for it." He received another punch.

"Where did you learn to dance, anyway?" She asked him.

"I'm just a natural." Draco smirked.

"I'm being completely serious." Hermione frowned.

"I'm tired, all of this twirling has made me thirsty." Draco said, dragging Hermione from the dance floor. She was lagging behind, so she took a little leap to close the gap between them.

"So, will you ever tell me where you learned to dance?" She pried.

"Yes. If you must know, Steve taught me, after I came back from Romania."

"Steve?" Hermione repeated. "The Steve you introduced me to at the St Mungo's party? The Steve who helped me with the splinching at the apparition test?"

"Yes. That Steve." Draco said, his face red. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"Why did he teach you?" Giggled Hermione, before taking a sip of her drink.

"He taught me because he wanted to learn, so that he could join the wizard's and witch's Salsa club, with Anne from work. I think he fancied her."

FLASHBACK

"Erm, Draco, do you think I could ask a favour of you?"

"Of course, Mr Snow what do you need me to do, sir?"

"Please, call me Steve. Well, it's a bit awkward, really. I'm in a bit of a tight spot. You see, my friend Anne, you know, the one down at reception?"

Draco did know "Anne down at reception". She was a small, dumpy witch, with mousy brown hair and very white teeth, apart from the specks of brilliant red lipstick. Draco could never understand why she had so much trouble putting it on and why she bothered in the first place, as it only made her look ridiculous.

"Yes, I do know Anne." Draco replied.

"Good, lovely woman, lovely woman. Anyway, she is a superb salsa dancer and she goes to a Salsa Club, in Figsbury. She asked me if I was able to salsa dance and, stupidly, I said I could."

Draco held back a snort.

"So, anyway, I want to learn to salsa dance and I don't have any friends, so I was wondering, would you learn to salsa dance with me? I have a teach yourself book…"

"Surely you have friends? Friends from school?"

"Home educated." Steve stuttered, hurriedly.

"Ah, well I owe you lots anyway, for all of the help with passing tests and the being sympathetic…. Alright, I'll learn to salsa dance with you."

END FLASHBACK

NEXT FLASHBACK

Draco was tired. He thought about Granger. What was she doing? Could he go and talk to her. She was friends with Herbert, wasn't she?

Oh Merlin, this can't go on. I need a date for the upcoming ball. He thought.

It's only a few months away and it would be so embarrassing, if he turned up without a date.

Maybe he would boycott the event. But he couldn't, could he? Because if he did, then everyone would be up in arms about how he was still a bad guy and was still wailing about Voldemort losing the war.

What was wrong with the wizarding community? They knew that he wasn't a bloody death eater. They just loved gossip and that stupid Rita Skeeter was a pest and a menace.

Draco sat down on the sofa and sighed. He looked at a strange clock on his wall and gave a longer, sadder sigh; he had salsa with Steve in fifteen minutes.

"I'm early!" Steve squeaked, as he appeared into Draco's living room.

"That's just perfect." Draco muttered, sarcastically, under his breath.

"Pardon?" Steve asked, whilst opening up his talking salsa book.

"Nothing." Draco answered, sullenly, standing up.

"Put your hand on your partner's hip," The book instructed. Steve was terrible at salsa dancing and he was so small that Draco had to lead everything, which meant that Steve would be unable to lead at the salsa club with Anne.

"Draco, step backwards with your right foot. Steve, step backwards with your left foot." The magical book instructed.

Somehow, much to Draco's annoyance, the book had picked up Draco's and Steve's names and was now saying things like "Draco, put your hand on Steve's bottom." And would shout louder and louder until the instruction was obeyed. Draco did not appreciate this sort of instruction.

An hour or so later, both men were hot and sweaty, but more because it had been stressful and difficult, not because it was a great dance session.

END FLASHBACK

"So he got you to learn it with him?" Hermione giggled. "Was he good?"

"Surprisingly, yes, by the end of our course. Not as good as you, mind. Where did you learn?"

"I didn't. I just followed your lead." Hermione shrugged.

"Now who's telling porky pies?" Draco teased.

"Are you suggesting that lied? That there could be a worse way of learning to dance than with Steve?"

Draco raised his brow.

An hour of wit later, Hermione was sitting on her sofa feeling tired and happy. The night had ended well, with Draco kissing Hermione lightly on the lips, before he disapparated, leaving her on her doorstep.

Draco was in his own home, feeling thoroughly pleased with himself. He had won Hermione over and he knew it. Finally, after three years of pining after her, he had her. And, oh Merlin, he had her good. He closed his eyes and felt himself being dragged from the real world. Draco dreamt that he was back at Hogwarts.

He was standing on top of the Gryffindor table, wearing McGonagall's robes, singing Boiling up Love in a Cauldron to everyone.

Draco had several peculiar dreams that night, but, unlike Hermione, was not woken up by The Boy Who Lived at seven O'clock in the morning.

"Harry! Oh dear Merlin, you gave me such a fright." Hermione punched her dearest friend, lightly, on the arm, after sitting up at the sight of Harry Potter standing next to her bed at seven in the morning.

"What are you doing here? It's seven in the morning." Hermione yawned, as she looked at the clock next to her bed.

"Sorry, Hermione." Harry said, "I just came to check on you. Apparently you had a date with Draco, last night..."

Hermione grinned at her friend. It made sense to her now. She tried to keep her face straight, as she said,

"It was awful. He punched me in the face halfway through dinner, for absolutely no reason. Told me I was a mudblood."

"HE DID WHAT?" Harry shrieked, outraged. Hermione giggled.

"I'm joking, Harry. It was great. Really great."

"Hermione, that wasn't funny."

"I beg to differ." Hermione mumbled.

"I'm not deaf, Hermione." Harry said.

"Go downstairs, Harry. I'll get dressed and come down to speak to you in a minute. Help yourself to food and drink." She shooed the Minister out of her bedroom, grinning to herself, as she shut the door.

Harry settled himself on the sofa, with a bowl of shredded wheat. He was amused at Hermione, but not at all pleased with her choice of date. He looked at the coffee table, where he saw; a pile of books - typical Hermione - a pile of letters and a quill and ink; a photo of her, Ron and himself in Egypt.

"Harry. How's Ginny?" Hermione entered, wearing muggle jeans, a blue shirt and a white cardigan.

"She's fine. We are very excited about the baby." Harry smiled.

Harry's green eyes sparkled. His nose was delicate, moulded beautifully; the image of perfection. It was a feature that Hermione had often admired (much to her shame).

"How's Teddy?" Hermione sat down next to him as he replied with,

"As cheeky, as usual." and he summoned the cup of tea he had made her, from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Harry." She caught the mug. "So, are you going to tell me what possessed you to come to my house and wake me up at stupid o'clock in the morning?"

"I just came to see how you were." Harry said, innocently.

"And that can't wait until a decent hour on a Saturday morning?"

"Fine. I came to ask about the whole Malfoy ordeal."

"I knew it, Harry."

"Well, humour me then."

"Fine, then. I really like Draco Malfoy. We've had two dates so far and they were both..." She sighed, happily, "wonderful."

"Hermione, I don't like it. It's Draco Malfoy. He might try to kill you. I have a hunch that he's up to no good and you know that my hunches can be extremely accurate: need I remind you of our sixth year."

"Oh Harry, I can look after myself. How's Ron?"

"I haven't seen him for a while. We'll see him tonight though, at the ball."

"Gracious, yes, he'll be there, won't he? I'd quite forgotten." Hermione said. "How is one supposed to behave in front of one's ex?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I'm not too sure. See, I only dated Cho before I married Ginny and I acted horribly around Cho, so I'm really not the best person to ask, Hermione."

Cho. Cho bloody Chang. Hermione did not like Cho Chang, one little bit. She remembered a time, after Harry and Cho had broken up, when Cho had approached Hermione.

FLASHBACK: Hermione's POV

My fingers trail across the spines of the books; spines binding pages of knowledge; beautiful knowledge.

It is at times like this, when I, myself, wonder why it is that I was not placed in Ravenclaw. I, like any Ravenclaw, thirst for knowledge, but I suppose I do not value it above all things.

I can't see why loyalty, friendship and selflessness should not be valued above all else.

I come to a spine I am instantly drawn to. This book is dusty; it hasn't been read for a while. I feel a strong desire to read this book, with its elegant red spine. Slowly and carefully, I take the book from its shelf. I look for an empty table, but see none.

As I glance around, I see Malfoy sitting at a table by himself, doing his potions homework, which is due in tomorrow. At another table, I see Cho Chang, crying as usual. The other tables are all full, so I decide to go to my corner.

I'm lost in my book, so I do not notice when Cho Chang sits beside me and stares at me. In fact, I am so lost in my book that I barely notice when she taps me on the shoulder. Luckily, one part of my brain must not be completely lost to the book, because I twitch and look at the mess of a girl sitting next to me.

As I look into Cho's eyes, I feel sorry for her. What hasn't that girl been through?

"Hello, Hermione. I thought that you were never going to realise I was here."

"Sorry." I say; nothing else springs to mind.

"I want to talk to you."

"Alright." I say, forcing a smile and closing my book, using my thumb and index finger to hold my place.

"I know you love Harry." She tells me. My heart leaps, I feel flushed; defiant.

"Wha-what?" I stutter.

"It's obvious. We all talk about it, in Ravenclaw, I mean."

"Oh, that's nice, but it's not true. I mean, I love Harry as a friend." I say, readying myself to get up and walk away.

"That's what I meant." Cho said. "In Ravenclaw, we all admire how seriously you Gryffindors take friendship."

I feel relieved. Harry has, in fact, been the object of my obsession for years now, but I was not about to tell Cho this.

"Anyway, Hermione. You are as close to Harry as it is possible to be. Please, promise never to repeat this to anyone," Cho looks expectantly at me. I nod, as if in agreement.

"Okay. I know that it'll be hard to get you to agree, but will you hurt Harry?"

"No!" I say, angrily, before Cho can reply.

"Listen, Hermione." Something about Cho's calm, soft voice intrigues me and I sit back down (in my outrage, I have stood up.) "Harry loves you, not just as a friend, and you could break him, like he – like he broke me."

I sigh. "Firstly, Cho, Harry doesn't love me." I stare down at my hands. "Secondly, I could never hurt him. I feel sorry for you, for obvious reasons." Cho too looks down at her hands, and I smile, realising that we aren't that different.

"I won't repeat this conversation to anyone, Cho, but I think that this was a horrible thing for you to ask of me," I stand up and gather my things. "Goodnight."

END FLASHBACK

An hour before it was time for Draco and Hermione to leave for the ball, saw both adults sitting side by side on Hermione's sofa, listening to the new Ask My Gnomes album and poking fun at each other every so often. Hermione was sitting on the sofa buried beneath an enormous blanket. Only her face was sticking out. Hermione had picked up the dress from his mother that morning, after Harry had left, but Draco had not been allowed to see it.

"Draco, your hair's sticking up at the back." Hermione said. As the wizard began trying to flatten his hair, Hermione couldn't contain her smile and she grinned, mischievously. He punched her arm playfully and said, "You'll regret that later."

"Oh, I highly doubt that!" She said.

"Oh you do, do you?" Draco said, leaning over to her, as if to kiss her. Hermione leant into him, but he dodged her and climbed on top of her, tickling her neck and attempting to prise the duvet off her.

"STOooooP!" Hermione's cry was distorted by her giggling.

"Not until you show me the dress!" Draco said, defiantly.

Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted up by the ankle into the air.

"HEY, HERMIONE!" He yelled. She giggled and said,

"I won't let you down until you say that you're sorry for tickling me!"

"But that would be a lie, Mudb-" Draco's insult was interrupted by his outburst of laughter, which was caused by Hermione's double-strength tickling charm.

"What was that you were about to say?" She said.

"Mudblahahaha" Draco tried to say, but his laughter caused the word to be too distorted to be understood.

"Sorry. I can't understand you!" Hermione mocked.

"Fine!" Cackling. "I'm s-" More cackling. "SORRY!" More cackling. Then he landed with a loud thump, on the floor.

"I hope you've learned your lesson." Hermione said, from behind the duvet.

"Yes, McGonagall." Draco muttered. He looked frightened, though, when Hermione's wand emerged from the duvet.

The hour slipped by so quickly that Hermione and Draco hardly noticed the time fly by.

"Oh my, it's time we left." Hermione exclaimed, as she looked at the clock.

"Good. Now maybe you could take off that blanket and allow me to see your dress." Draco suggested.

"Alright, but I look peculiar; it's not my normal attire. The dress is beautiful though, thanks to your mother." Hermione said, standing up.

She shook the blanket from her and revealed the dress beneath it. Truly, it was beautiful. With a dark olive green colour, the dress complemented her eyes and hair. The skirt was very large and soft looking, similar to Cinderella's signature blue dress, in the Disney film. It began at her waist and went all the way down to the floor. Her hair tumbled down over her shoulder in soft curls and the gorgeous shade of olive green went fantastically well with her eyes and makeup (done for her earlier that day by Ginny).

"Well, what do you think?" Hermione asked him. Draco had been staring, open-mouthed at the stunning witch in front of him.

"Like a fairy princess." He said, smirking and grabbing her by the waist and kissing her.

"Thank you, my prince charming." Hermione smiled. "I love your dress robes."

"Yes, they're exquisite." Draco said, but not bothering to look down. Instead, he fingered Hermione's dress, feeling the beautiful material. "Mother really did do an amazing job on this dress. You look beautiful."

"As beautiful as your pretty eyes?" Hermione battered her eyelashes at him and stared into his grey eyes, innocently, but as though she were mocking him.

"We had better go, or we'll be late and you can't be, Mrs War Hero." Draco grinned. He received an elbow in the ribs from "Mrs War Hero".

"You can talk, Rich Bastard." Hermione grinned and, pulling him closer as if she were going to kiss him, smiled slyly and disapparated, taking the well-known rich bastard with her.