Thank you to everyone who contributed to my collection of reviews - I actually reached 40 reviews a lot earlier than I thought I would! I have decided that I will update after I see 61 total reviews! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, 61. So get to reviewing! Actually, um, wait a bit because I still have to figure out what on earth I'm going to type for chapter 4...hehehe. See you all soon!

OFFICIAL CHAPTER DEDICATION: MidnightEclipse6 for diligently going back and reviewing every chapter of my other story, when she could have just reviewed the last one! ^^

CHAPTER 3 – Go the Distance

Hermione slumped against the pale yellow walls of St. Mungo's reception area and waited for the attending Healer to emerge from the chamber where Eric and Malfoy were currently being examined. She nervously tugged on the hem of her short black dress, wishing she were curled up at home with Crookshanks instead of stumbling around on the despicable four-inch heels that Andrea had forced her to wear. This whole evening had been one blasted mistake. Sure, she'd become acquainted with a highly attractive and wealthy man who believed her to be the crown jewel of the Golden Trio, but in return, she had also encountered a man who made her blood boil like no one else could.

"That conniving, self-centered, egotistical, pigheaded, and villainous little git," she muttered darkly to herself, wondering how many ways one could murder a ferret using nothing but high heels and a pair of dangly earrings.

"What?" asked a brooding Blaise. He had been sitting on a wooden chair with his hands clasped between parted knees, and Hermione could tell he was quite stressed thanks to the worry lines running along his forehead.

"Oh, er, nothing."

Poor man, she thought sympathetically as Blaise began drumming his fingers against his thighs just to release some anxiety. What on earth he must have to put up with just to keep a friendship with Malfoy alive – it's enough to drive anyone mad, and I've only observed them at it for a couple of hours! Merlin, if only Malfoy weren't such a boor, he might have actually become popular for all the right reasons. And now with his company beginning to overshadow some of the other enterprises in the vicinity, his ego will only continue to inflate.

Hermione straightened her posture and slowly walked over to a chair next to Blaise. He looked up at her, and in his eyes, Hermione could see all the worry and uncertainty swirling around in rivers of dark brown. She sat down and hesitantly reached out to cover his restless hand with hers. At her touch, his hand stopped moving, and something in Blaise's tight expression softened.

"Calm down, Blaise," she gently said while giving his hand a small squeeze. "If you and I know anything about that blond-headed buffoon, then we can rest assured that he'll bounce back to safety with astonishing speed."

Blaise cracked a smile at the word "bounce" and replied, "Well, he is the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, remember? I have no doubt in my mind that he'll bounce back as soon as possible."

Hermione laughed out loud at the memory of Malfoy squeaking hysterically as he flew through the air. It had been the most humorous highlight of her fourth year at Hogwarts, apart from going to the Yule ball with Viktor Krum and seeing everyone's shocked expressions upon viewing her "transformation". "Yes," she sniggered. "He really deserves to have that title engraved on his headstone someday. It'll be all over the papers: 'Legendary Malfoy Chooses to Embellish Headstone with Famous School Nickname'!"

Blaise chuckled before glancing down at Hermione's hand which was still covering his own. Immediately, the two wrenched their hands apart as if electrocuted and diligently avoided making eye contact for a few minutes. The only sounds penetrating the silence after that were an occasional throat-clearing from the embarrassed Italian and the ticking of an antique cuckoo clock on the wall.

After what seemed like a hundred years of awkwardness, a middle-aged Healer strode out of the chamber and wearily announced, "They're both in stabilized conditions. You may visit them now."

Blaise rocketed out of his chair with Hermione on his heels and darted into the room. Inside, there were two beds, with each bed accompanied by a simple white table holding up a tiny vase filled with tulips and a tray covered with potions. Between the beds was a large opaque screen that probably served the noble purpose of preventing Malfoy and Eric from lashing out at each other. Hermione felt that she could hear the flimsy mattresses almost groaning under the weight of the two large men, one a dark-haired god, the other a pale-skinned demon. Blaise headed directly over to the bed on the left where Malfoy was lying, however Hermione hurried to Eric's side.

As she sank into the cot's sheets, Eric opened his eyes and smiled up at her, creating little crinkles by the sides of his eyelids. "Didn't think you'd be here," he said while slightly shifting his upper body to a more upright position. He saw her give a side-long glance at the screen, probably considering how well the "neighbors" could hear them, and reassured her, "Don't worry. They've enchanted the screen to make it impossible to hear what people are saying on the other side. The room is practically divided into two halves the instant you walk through that door."

Hermione sighed. "There wasn't much else to do, honestly. The instant you foolishly slammed the bottle down on Malfoy's head, something in Blaise just clicked and he practically grabbed all three of us at once and brought us here together! I don't think you were actually conscious for that part, but let me tell you: it's amazing that no one got splinched. Three extra people apparating with one person is no joke."

Eric showed no sign of remorse at the mention of his final attack, and crossed his arms in defensiveness. "It wasn't foolish, Hermione. That man had the nerve to insult you like that, and you just expected me to stand there and watch? I wasn't about to let him get away with it!"

"We just met each other!" she protested. "God, Eric, it's been what, two or three hours that we've known each other? And you're already fighting for me and protecting me? I don't want you to feel obligated to shield me just because I happen to be Hermione Granger! And I certainly don't want to see you lying in St. Mungo's because of me! Because you know what? That makes me think that Malfoy was right – that I really do just let people throw themselves at my enemies while I hide like a coward."

Eric put his hand to Hermione's cheek and softly murmured, "I know it's only been a couple of hours, but that part doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you won't be forced to take crap like that from anyone again. Yeah, sure, it's cool that you're Hermione Granger and all, but that's not the reason why I stood up for you. Hell, if anything, I'd expect you to be the one protecting me – you're quite obviously a damn good fighter. The reason why I defended you is because I think you deserve someone to look after you for a change: someone who won't make a mess of your life, someone who won't deny you your rights just because you're different, and someone who won't expect you to work for him day and night. And I think we have started off with a good enough connection to let you experience a person like that."

Hermione could feel a tear working to slip out of the corner of her eye and speedily covered her face with her hands. Why is he being so sweet to me? We hardly know each other, and it's like he just wrote me a love letter or something! I don't even remember the last time a guy said something that heartwarming…could he really like me? Oh, Merlin…

She felt the mattress move around as he leaned over. "Hermione? I – I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to come on so strong. It's just…" He lightly drew her hands away from her face and gave a small sigh. "I felt something. Something special. And…I don't know, maybe there's a chance we could work with it. But only if you want to. I mean, I can understand if you're completely freaked out by this right now."

Oh god, oh god, what should I say? Am I freaked out? Is this moving too fast? Does he seem worth it? Uh…ok, that last question was a bit stupid; of COURSE he's worth it! Come on Hermione, live a little! You've finally got an intelligent and incredibly handsome man in front of you, and you're analyzing the situation? Just say YES.

"Um…ah…er," Hermione replied, mentally slapping herself for acting like an inane nincompoop. Ow! Damn it, that hurt!

Eric looked at her expectantly, obviously waiting for the infinitely more elegant and refined acceptance.

Hermione took a deep breath and lowered her gaze to the floor. She already knew she was redder than an angry member of the Weasley family. "Eric, I think that sounds…lovely." She glanced up to see his face glow with elation and offered him a shy smile. "But we'll take it slow from here on out, all right?"

He rapidly nodded with a dazzling grin stretching from ear to ear. "Oh yeah, of course!" he exclaimed. "I completely agree with you. Yeah, we'll definitely go at a nice, steady pace."

She laughed and rose, hoping that the imprint of her backside would disappear very quickly from the bedding. Merlin knew that she had blushed enough for one night. "All right, well, I'll leave you to it then. Er, let me write down my address for you – you can owl me whenever you'd like, and we'll set something up."

She scribbled down her street name and apartment number on a random piece of parchment and placed it on the table next to her. Just before she turned to walk out, Eric grabbed her wrist.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" she asked bemusedly.

"Thank you for…giving me a chance."

Hermione laughed again and gave him an easy push back into his pillows. "You're too charming for your own good, you know that?"

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and grinned again. "So I've been told."

Hermione smiled and shook her head before striding away. However, just as she got to the door, she wondered if she should visit Malfoy's bedside for a moment. It couldn't hurt, could it? But then, she clenched her jaw and resolutely marched out, deciding to depart without seeing the stupid wanker. After all that he made me endure tonight, he or Blaise couldn't possibly think I'd drop by! No, he can just stay there and suffer. Besides, it'll only bring him more grief to see my face two times in one night.

Dispelling all traces of potential guilt from her mind, Hermione walked outside the front gates to St. Mungo's and spun in place with her eyes shut tight. In a heartbeat, she was in front of her apartment. Briefly taking pleasure in the cool breeze that swept her hair up, she then used a personalized charm to open her door and enter, ready to kick her shoes off and flop onto her warm, inviting bed.

She was, however, to be further deprived of relaxation because as soon as she stepped inside, a bustling mass of dirty blonde hair leapt at her and nearly caused her to collapse.

"Thank Merlin!" the light-pink colored bundle cried as it wrapped its arms around Hermione's waist. "I thought – I thought…oh jeez, I've been so worried! Where have you been, Hermione? You damn near had me about to call up every last Auror in the country to go and find you!"

Hermione pried herself free and held a white-faced Andrea by her shoulders. "Andi," she said soothingly while the other girl stared at her reproachfully. "Andi, calm down. I'm okay. I've just had a very eventful night, and I'll tell you all about it if you promise to get a hold of yourself, all right?"

Andrea inhaled deeply and nodded. "Ah, yes. Sure."

The two went over to the living room and stiffly perched on the sofa. Silence temporarily filled the air as Hermione walked back to the kitchen and obtained two wine glasses and a bottle of chardonnay. Once she had returned, Andrea robotically took a glass and poured herself some wine. After drinking it, some color came back into her cheeks and she set the glass down, ready for an explanation.

"All right, now explain," she demanded, a bit of her old imperious air enriching her tone.

Hermione reached down and yanked her heels off before picking them up and throwing them aside. Then she took a sip of her wine and said, "Oh, Andi, there's so much to tell you."

Andrea rolled her eyes in an obvious sign of impatience and urged, "Well, hurry up then! My hearing's not going to get any better over the years, and quite frankly, I have my own flat I'd like to be getting back to."

"Ahem. Well. Apart from that torrent of overflowing compassion and sensitivity," Hermione said pointedly as she dropped her head back on the soft cushions. "You know that like, the instant we entered the club, you abandoned me and ran off to mingle with beautiful people."

The blonde suddenly avoided making eye contact much to Hermione's amusement.

"I don't really blame you," Hermione said as she smiled and raised her eyebrows at her friend. "But it was a bit unnerving at first. Anyways, after you disappeared, I pushed and shoved my way over to the bar in order to prevent myself dying from bad dancing skills or asphyxiation. When I sat down, the bartender came up and asked me what I'd like, but before I could think of anything to say, a man sat down next to me and ordered for me!"

Here, Andrea widened her eyes in an almost insultingly astonished expression. "A man? Good heavens Hermy, I leave you alone for five minutes and you manage to reel in a man? Go on, spill! Was he cute? Was he a bore? Was he funny? I want answers, damn it!"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air and exclaimed, "If you'd let me talk, perhaps I could give you some answers!"

Andrea sat back and made a sweeping motion with her arm to indicate that Hermione was free to speak.

I swear she's passive-aggressive.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying. A man sat down and ordered two martinis, and Merlin's pants, Andi, this man was…" Hermione just dreamily shook her head.

"Wow. Really something, huh?"

Hermione could basically hear Andi trying to keep her impatience under check and decided to put her out of her misery. "All right, this is what he looked like," she began, causing Andi to sit up straight without delay. "He had thick, wavy brown hair, a terrific smile, lovely hazel eyes, and two of the sweetest dimples I have ever seen."

"Tall?" Andrea asked with a calculating mien.

"Over six feet, I think."

"Fashionable?"

"Undoubtedly. He was wearing a tailored white shirt and fitted black trousers."

Andrea surveyed Hermione over her wine glass and cheekily inquired, "Yes, I'm sure you figured out how fitted his trousers were very easily, didn't you?"

Hermione squealed indignantly as she threw a nearby pillow at the other girl's head. "I'm not a shameless peeping tom like you, Andi!" But they really did fit very nicely to his –

"Moving on! Intelligent?"

Hermione enthusiastically nodded her head. "Merlin, Andi, he's a Magitect! Can you imagine? That's one of the hardest jobs to ever take on, and he's actually doing it!" She repeated what she had said earlier to Eric. "God, I don't even know anyone who's in that field apart from him!"

"Okay, okay," Andrea chuckled as she viewed her friend's pronounced excitement. "Don't wet your knickers right here!"

Another pillow was launched at Andrea's head, resulting in the girl screaming bloody murder and leaping on top of Hermione in fake outrage.

"Now stop!" Hermione bellowed after a couple of minutes, her sides aching from all the laughter. She pushed Andi off and lay back down. "Enough about Eric's characteristics! After he bought me a drink and we talked for a while, some stupid blighter turned the volume up to an almost painful intensity, forcing Eric and I to leave the bar and head over to the private compartment area."

Andi coughed into her fist. "Um, haha. That might have been me, now that you mention it. The DJ was very kind."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "Of course it was you. Now shut up. As we were entering a room, someone called Eric away, so I just had the place to myself. But after approximately five seconds, Blaise Zabini walks in!"

"The sexy bloke who co-founded the company 'Sinful'?"

"Yes! And he recognized me. So, we sat down and talked and traded a few jokes, but before either of us could even enjoy a full ten minutes of serenity, guess who just barges in?"

Andi shrugged and took a wild guess. "Voldemort wearing an adult diaper?"

Hermione paused and blinked. "Nooo…and how do you even know what an adult diaper is?"

Her friend waved her hand to dismiss the subject. "It's a long story. Continue."

"Right, okay. Listen to this: Malfoy, the quintessential leader of Arseholes Anonymous, storms into our compartment!"

"DRACO MALFOY! THE HOTTEST MAN ALIVE? YOU GOT TO MEET HIM TONIGHT? OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SO EFFING LUCKY! HE'S THE SEXIEST HUNK OF BURNING FLESH I HAVE EVER LAID EYES ON!"

"Your support of my hatred for him is admirable, Andi," Hermione remarked dryly. "Perhaps this anecdote will only further bolster your love for him. That pureblooded prat sailed in with Eric behind him (I'm sure he didn't know that he was being followed) and began yelling at Blaise for ditching him in the club. Then, he saw me and began spewing his nonsensical bullshit from all those years ago about how muggleborns are inferior and were the whole reason for the War."

"Why, that filthy son of a bitch!"

"It gets better," Hermione said grimly. "Once Malfoy was finished with his 'I-Hate-Mudbloods' speech, Eric spun him around and told him that he couldn't speak to me that way. Malfoy instantly took it as a paramount threat and began punching Eric! Eric of course fought back, and Blaise and I even tried to step in from time to time, but it was to no avail. And it obviously didn't help that we'd all left our wands at home. Finally, Eric simply grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey and brought it down on Malfoy's head, knocking him unconscious. After that, Blaise flew into action and apparated us all to St. Mungo's in one try!"

"Bloody hell. It serves the rotten, albeit sexy, Malfoy bastard right," Andi croaked, hooked on every word. "Then what?"

"After waiting for a while, Blaise and I were told that the two men were in stable conditions. We went in to visit our respective friends, and I found Eric lying on his bed without a mark or bruise on his face. He and I talked for a while, but Andi, it boils down to this: he likes me, and wants to go out with me!"

Andi squealed again, this time louder than before, and began vigorously fist-pumping in celebration. "Yes! I can't believe it, Herms! You did it! You finally grabbed yourself a man, and you ran with him! Congratulations!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the blue-eyed imp's exuberance. "Hm, yes, I suppose I did."

Suddenly, Andrea's zest abated and she stared at Hermione. "What about Malfoy?"

"What about Malfoy?" Hermione asked confusedly. How did we go from dancing about Eric to discussing Malfoy?

"Did you stop by his bed to check on him?"

"I didn't need to, he had Blaise! And honestly, why would I stop by the bed of the man who destroyed any good impressions I had of him, who assuredly loathes my mere existence?"

"I don't know, Hermione. He did get hit on the head with a heavy bottle…"

"Well, maybe it knocked some sense into him," Hermione replied cruelly.

Andrea stood up and stretched, her face still clouded with troubled feelings. "I ought to go now," she yawned. "It's late, and I've got work tomorrow. Here, walk me out."

The two girls traipsed to the front door. Before leaving, Andrea gave Hermione a hug and smiled warmly. "I'm really glad you've found someone, babe."

Hermione hugged back just as tightly and said, "Thanks, Andi. It's been a long time since I've felt like this."

The blonde pulled back, went down the stairs to the street, and stood on her tiptoes, ready to disapparate. "Oh, and one more thing," she called.

"What?"

"Visit Draco Malfoy."

"What? Why?"

Andrea tossed her hair over her shoulder and slightly bent her knees. "Because you never know how far one kind act might go!"

And with a pop, she was gone, leaving behind a conflicted Hermione.

Hmph, yeah, right. Like I'm really going to make an effort to call on that mangy jerk.

Later, as she lay in bed, Hermione stuffed her face into her pillow and groaned. That damned guilt! Heaving an enormous sigh, she padded over to her kitchen and perused a relatively current issue of The Daily Prophet, searching for the address of one Malfoy Manor.

...

Draco felt absolutely pathetic as he lay there on a musty cot. His beautiful blond hair was bound by tight bandages, and his eyelids felt heavy and weighted. Sitting next to him was Blaise – always dependable, always supportive. Draco felt a pang of contrition after seeing the worry etched into his face, but he hoped that he wouldn't be forced to actually apologize. Malfoys can do many things, but apologizing is not one of them. A tiny clock on the wall in front of him told him it was 11:45.

Well, damn, this has been a fun night.

"Draco?" Blaise said, his voice slightly rough. "You all right?"

"I've been better," he replied loftily, ignoring his mild headache. "But this certainly isn't the worst I've ever been."

Blaise snorted and sat back with his arms crossed. "Yeah, I can imagine. But I'm not going to tell you that you were justified at all in this fight, in case you're waiting for it. You brought it upon yourself, and while I certainly wish you hadn't gotten injured, I can't say that your actions didn't warrant something like this."

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned, "Please, Zabini, don't lecture me on this. I spoke my mind, and I don't need anyone telling me that what I think is wrong. It's not my fault her little boyfriend, or whoever the hell he is, had to get his panties all up in twist. If you'll notice, she didn't seem to react too badly at all."

"You completely antagonized her within a minute of meeting her again after four bloody long years! I think that's probably a world record!"

"I couldn't help it! Something about her just riled me up and got under my skin. The way she tried to make it seem like my achievements are only second-best compared to those of her stupid friends infuriated me!" As if a Potter or Weasley could ever hope to compete with a Malfoy.

"My, my, my," Blaise said sardonically, his brown eyes flashing. "You really care about what she thinks of you, don't you? What is it about her that makes you so vitriolic, Draco? Because I remember seeing this same sort of scenario day after day back at Hogwarts – anytime Hermione bested you at something, you'd just have gripe about it all day and night long, and you simply wouldn't let the matter rest!"

"Look," Draco explained in order to keep Blaise from getting any wrong ideas. Merlin, I don't even want to know what sort of ideas those could be! Ugh! "I was in a pissy mood this evening, all right? I had to deal with you running off, and then I had to somehow get away from every female freak in the area without losing my dignity or losing my money. There was this one witch, I tell you, she got right on the end of my blasted ner-"

Blaise put up a hand to stop Draco's babbling, causing the incapacitated man to slouch back and glower at his friend not unlike an immature child. "I'm sure you have a riveting tale to tell, Draco, but I'm really not in the mood. You've acted like a spoiled brat today, and I highly doubt your mother would be too pleased to hear about this, don't you think?"

Is he seriously threatening to tell my mother? "Are you seriously threatening to tell mother?" Draco asked petulantly.

The dark-haired man dragged his chair closer to the bed and observed Draco through steepled fingers. "I just might," he answered casually, his voice hinting at trouble. "Unless, of course, you do something for me."

"And what might that be?" Draco spat.

"Apologize."

"Pardon me, it sounded almost like you told me to apologize. What did you say?"

"Apologize," Blaise repeated tranquilly.

"You've got to be joking. Apologize to whom? Bigheaded Boyfriend over there? Hell no! You can't make me do it!"

Blaise picked a nonexistent piece of lint off his shirt and flicked it away before locking eyes with Draco again. "I don't care about the other man. What I care about is you redeeming yourself in Hermione's eyes as soon as possible."

Draco glared furiously at his friend. What the hell? Since when did Blaise become an effing saint! "What's going on with you and Granger? And when the bloody hell did you start calling her by her first name?"

"It's a thing polite people do when they like each other, Malfoy. They move past the barriers of the surname and start using first names. You should try it sometime…after, of course, you try apologizing to a certain brown-haired girl."

"Ha! Make me. I'll hand myself over to Pansy Parkinson before I'll go and apologize to that mudblood."

"Do you have a Pensieve at the manor, Draco?" Blaise asked randomly while looking off into the distance.

"Er, yes. Why?" Thank Merlin! He's changing the subject.

"Because I could very easily show your mother that memory of you telling me how you lost your virginity to an unknown girl at the tender age of fifteen. I'm sure she'd enjoy that very much. After all, what parent doesn't love hearing about his/her child's accomplishments?"

He's bloody blackmailing me. MY BEST FRIEND IS FUCKING BLACKMAILING ME!

"May I ask the reason for this blatant display of betrayal?" Draco inquired through gritted teeth.

"Yes. You need to learn to get along with people unlike yourself, because someday, you're going to come across someone who'll do the same thing to you and you'll wish that you hadn't been such a bastard at the time when your mindset was still able to change."

"You've seriously gone off the deep end," Draco scoffed with disgust.

"Be that as it may, you are going to apologize to Hermione Granger if you value your current lifestyle. Unless, of course, you don't mind facing the beautiful Mrs. Malfoy's fiery wrath."

Draco glared at the smirk that was failing to vanish from Blaise's face. I never knew he was such a Slytherin. Here I've been thinking that maybe he's really just an occasionally confrontational nice guy who is above chicanery. Guess I've been wrong.

The attending Healer then entered the room holding a quill and a clipboard. She stopped first at the other bed where Mr. Big Shot was lying. After two or three minutes, she emerged and walked over to Draco's bed appearing to be slightly flustered.

Ah, well, what woman wouldn't be flustered at the sight of me? He quickly skirted over the fact there was a certain Gryffindor prude who remained the exception when it came to his innate charm.

"Um, Mr. Malfoy," she said nervously while flipping through the pages on her clipboard. "You're clear to go. All you have to do is take this potion in its proper doses every day for a week. The instructions for the dosage are attached to the vial. Do you have any questions?" She added on the last bit as she set the bottle of dull blue liquid down.

Draco smirked. "Only one. Do you make nighttime house calls?"

The Healer turned even pinker and started stumbling all over her words. "Er…um…I'm, uh, sorry? I – I didn't quite get what you…"

Blaise courteously stood up and put his arm around her, thus subtly leading her out. "I apologize for my friend's lack of verbal decorum. Kindly ignore his ludicrous innuendoes and have a nice night. I shall escort him home."

"Um…"

"Good night."

Once she had departed, Draco snarled with frustration, "Are you purposefully trying to ruin all my fun tonight? Because I must admit, you're doing a jolly good job of it!"

"You consider lying in St. Mungo's with your head wrapped up in bandages fun?"

"No! But if I'm not going to get laid tonight, then I might as well enjoy myself anyways!"

"By hitting on a Healer who doesn't have more than a handful of brain cells floating around in her skull? Merlin, Draco, you've certainly let your standards fall."

"What on earth has your knickers in a knot?"

Blaise shrugged and pocketed the aforementioned potion before jerking his head and ordering, "All right, up. It's high time we went home."

Draco reluctantly staggered out of his bed and grasped Blaise's elbow much more tightly than necessary, then they simultaneously apparated to Draco's bedroom in the Malfoy Manor.

Blaise placed the blue potion on the silver colored dresser and put his hands in his pockets. "Remember, mate," he said quietly. "You have to say you're sorry."

Sorry for what? For speaking my mind? For telling the truth? For getting a few kicks in during a fight?

Draco turned so that his back was facing his friend and grunted, "Bugger off."

"As you wish."

After Blaise left, Draco fell backwards onto his bed and allowed sleep to overwhelm his senses. He'd had quite enough thinking and excitement going on for one night, and he didn't intend to prolong his suffering much more, thank you very much.

The next morning found Draco lounging about in a loose shirt and sweatpants, lazily sorting through the mail. His mother was out shopping, allowing him to savor some golden solitude. On the floor next to him were two piles, one regarding "Sinful", the other just about normal matters of correspondence.

"Let's see here," he muttered as he flipped though scroll after scroll. "Finances, new recruits, trade rights, dinner with the Sparks, and oh…what's this? A letter from Blaise – how shocking."

Throwing the other letters aside for the time being, he tore the scroll open and read with a modicum of disinterest:

Draco,

You know your task. Get it done, and don't make me stoop to the levels you know I'm capable of getting to.

Blaise

P.S. Try not to rip this letter up too ferociously.

"Wrong, Blaise," he announced to the walls. "I shall not rip it up, I shall crumple it up." And he began to do so with great fervor before lobbing it to a far away corner.

Again, he picked up the stack of epistles next to him and sorted through some more. "Press conference, press conference, congratulations on the new office, another boring socialite party, and…Granger?"

Draco sat up with renewed interest and examined the elaborate script on the simple envelope. From Hermione Granger, it read. He rapidly flipped it over and yanked his finger through a small opening, causing him to end up sucking on a paper cut and reading:

Malfoy,

I know this isn't exactly giving you much of a notice, but I wanted to let you know that I'll be dropping by sometime soon. Not just soon, but today, actually. I realize that I probably won't receive the warmest of welcomes, but there's something I need to do that can't really wait. Hopefully this hasn't greatly inconvenienced you.

Sincerely,

H. Granger

He folded the letter up and put his fingers to his temple in contemplation. What business did she have with him? And what was the reason for such urgency? After all, she herself had noted that an early morning notice wasn't much of a notice at all.

I don't like the sound of this. Her showing up here will only lead to trouble, mark my words. And yeah right, since when does she care about inconveniencing me? Ha!

Suddenly, a house-elf materialized and bowed. "A Miss Granger has arrived, Master Malfoy."

Draco nearly fell out of his armchair in surprise. "Granger? Already? But, I just read her letter. Did she explain why she's here?"

The ugly creature timidly shuffled its feet and replied, "Needy does not know, Master. Miss Granger seems a bit nervous, sir - that is all Needy can say."

"Hm. I see. Now go."

The house-elf bowed again before vanishing, leaving Draco to wonder if he should actually let Granger inside or not. One side of him was intrigued, but the other was deeply suspicious.

What was that Needy said? She seemed nervous? "Well, she's about to enter the infamous House of Malfoy," Draco muttered as he strode out to the set of huge double-doors serving as the official entrance. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for some sort of hex being thrown in his way, he firmly grasped the iron handles and jerked them open. He was met by the sight of a slightly frazzled-looking Granger dressed in a knee-length red skirt and a white blouse. Her eyes widened in surprise upon observing him, but she carefully rearranged her features into an impressive mask of congeniality.

"Granger," Draco said, making his tone as icy as possible. "What dastardly twist of fate brings you here?"

Merlin's pants, this is it. This is where she's going to punch me in the face again like she did once all those years ago. She's going to use the Cruciatus Curse on me and drive me insane before burying my broken shell of a body under the thickest floorboards of this house. I shouldn't have left my wand in my room. Blast it, I'm a bloody fool for having left that there. Damn.

She actually appeared rather guilty as she bit her lip, but despite that, Draco was definitely not expecting for her to say what she simply ended up saying: "Er, hello, Malfoy…how are you?"

But what really put the icing on the cake was when Blaise appeared right behind Granger after she uttered those words. "Draco," he called in an eerie sing-song voice. "Somebody has something to do..."

"Didn't I tell you to bugger off?" Draco growled, attempting to ignore the flash of happy recognition on Granger's face as she saw Blaise.

"Now, now, Draco," a solemn female voice admonished. "Is that any way to speak in front your guests?"

And that was when Draco saw his mother step out from behind Blaise with an armload of shopping bags and an expression of stern disapproval on her pale, aristrocratic face.

Oh, fuck.

...

amazingtofu - Like I said, it's so easy to channel myself into Hermione. Oh, and you're welcome. ^^

JaneRoger and JuliaRoger140 - Thanks for rallying for my cause! I think you guys made a pretty good impact on other readers. ;)

-gotdraco- - Yes, that's where I got the name from! I like taking random song names and stuff from time to time to name my chapters. For example, the title of this chapter is the name of a song from the movie "Hercules". Remember, guys, the one where he flies off into the sunset with Pegasus?

abutterfly'sshadow - Your review made my day.

numbrdramoine2005 - I think Draco deserves a good beating every now and then, don't you? -wink, wink