Chapter Two
Her gaze locked onto icy grey-blue orbs of perfection. In all her twenty-one years of life, she had never seen someone so perfect. Blonde hair so pale it was nearly white was tousled in a way Hermione didn't know could look good. No, good wasn't a strong enough adjective for it. It was sexy. A strong jaw and high cheekbones formed a perfect face. His mouth was sensuous and lifted into a devastatingly handsome smirk. It lay beneath a straight, aristocratic nose. The man before her stood at least a head taller, and seemed to radiate some sort of primal energy. His dress shirt hung perfectly off of his shoulders, tightening around his muscular arms and torso. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and his legs would make any model green with envy. His tie matched his eyes, and seemed to be the only color in his black and white appearance. Hermione had finally met her vision of Adonis.
Hermione gaped at the boy-no-man before her. He had definitely matured since the last time she'd seen him. Whenever his name was brought up, she always imagined the pointy-featured, teen from Hogwarts who used far too much hair gel. The man before her seemed to contradict everything she physically knew about him. She couldn't deny it, no matter how much she wanted to, but the boy from her youth was gone, and in his place was a man that screamed of a wild, uninhibited danger that she couldn't help but be drawn to.
"Malfoy?" She asked again, really, really hoping she was delusional. She could now see why Ginny hid his identity from her. She would have refused outright.
"I believe you already said my name, Granger. Though say at as many times as you want, it's not changing any time soon." He smirked. His voice had dropped since his younger years, and could easily drive her mad with wanting. She could listen to him read a dictionary, or encyclopedia, or- She halted her train of thought. She needed to stop her over-active imagination if she wanted to cool down the rising temperature of her body.
Hermione couldn't think of any scathing remark that wouldn't kick her out of his pristine office, so she held her tongue and gave him a withering glare. He merely smirked at her obvious displeasure. She didn't care how much he physically changed, and she certainly didn't care that his family switched sides at the end of the war. She still held her childish grudge against him, simply because he was the first boy to actively bully her. And to think that she had a slight crush on the git when she was eleven!
"Now, formalities aside, are you okay?" He asked. A flash of genuine care touched his eyes as he waited for her response. She could do nothing more than stare at him, shocked.
"I'm fine, thank you." She replied rather bitterly. She appreciated his concern, but there was no point in believing his question was purely based on her well-being. Slytherins didn't look out for others, only themselves. Besides, it was a mortifying experience she'd prefer to just forget.
"Now, now Granger. There's no need to be mean. We are both adults now. After this interview you will depart through that door and never have to lay eyes on my handsome face again." Malfoy said, placing a hand on the small of her back. An odd shiver ran down her spine, warming her body as he guided her to one of the two seating areas. It was close to the window, and she couldn't help but gaze in awe at the skyline once more. Reflecting on what he had said, she had to admit, she couldn't argue with him, it would merely reduce her to being childish. And childish, Hermione was not.
"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" He asked, much closer to her than she thought. She jumped in surprise when she felt his breath on the shell of her ear. It sent tingles all through her body. The small sensation, mixed with the slight pressure of his hand against her back, made her want to moan in satisfaction. Instead, she nodded her head, wetting her suddenly dry lips. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. What was he playing at?
"Would you care to take a seat?" Malfoy asked, gesturing to one of the black leather couches. She nodded, making her way over to it. She made sure to sit on the end, far away from where he was.
"Now how are you going to interrogate me from there? Honestly, I thought you would be jumping at the chance to ask me all sorts of personal questions." His eyes glinted with suppressed heat. Hermione had a vague suspicion that he wasn't talking about the same kind of personal questions as her.
At the mention of her proximity, however, she awkwardly shuffled closer to him. He was sitting on the other couch, looking much like a reclining tiger. His smirk was contented yet dangerous. The way he lazily reclined was graceful, not even slightly deterring his overall intimidation. She was so aware of him. Malfoy's close proximity sent electricity dancing through her. She'd never met anyone who had the ability to disorient her as much as the man on the couch to her left. He leaned in closer to her, sending her senses to Nirvana and back. An incensed musk with deep provocative notes assaulted her. It painted images in Hermione's mind that she was getting warm just picturing. It perfectly fit to his all-encompassing presence. He was an overall onslaught to the senses.
"So, Mr. Malfoy, do you mind if I record what you're going to say?" Hermione asked, halting her studying of the 'new' Malfoy beside her.
"No, Miss Granger, I don't mind at all." His mouth turned into a smirk, his eyes alight with laughter. He was mocking her. For some inexplicable reason, Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She glared at him before charming a quill to write down what they were saying.
"I must admit, Miss Granger, I was under the impression that it would be Miss Weasley interviewing me." Malfoy eyed her, his expression devoid of any emotion. A slight curiosity flitted through his eyes, but she couldn't be sure.
"Ginny. . .um. . .Miss Weasley has fallen ill, so she sent me as a replacement." Hermione snapped. She didn't know why, but the fact that she was reduced to an awkward, stuttering fool in front of him made her infuriated. Why was she getting so clumsy all of a sudden? Sure she despised interviews with an unadulterated passion, but almost everyone from her year did. That didn't explain why her brain cells were fried and her overall mental state was reduced to nothing more than a puddle. Sure he was attractive, but she had never let looks deter her from getting the job done. Why should that affect her now?
"I see. I hope she feels better." He stated in a calm voice. Hermione stared at him, her eyes wide. He was worried about Ginny's wellbeing? As if sensing her thoughts, a dark chuckle escaped his lips.
"What? Is it really so hard for you to understand that I'm not as foul as you presume?" Malfoy asked, his eyes darkening, "Well guess what Granger, some people change. Salazar's soul, everyone knows how much you hate being proven wrong, but I'm surprised that you of all people can't seem to grasp that I'm not the same git from my childhood. Really Granger, I thought you were above that." His voice rose the more he continued talking until he was practically shouting at her. He looked caught between exasperation and pure anger. Hermione couldn't tell which emotion she was scared of more. She felt her own anger rise at his words. So he has the audacity to claim that she should be a better person? Why should he get to decide?
"Well excuse me for not getting the memo that you changed. I hardly recall any kind of remark from our days at Hogwarts that would lead me to believe that you can fully be a better person now. Excuse me for acknowledging that you're a pure-blood Slytherin, something I know you're proud of, and expecting you to act on your beliefs. How dare I expect you to be the same person. How dare I be so childish!" Hermione ranted.
Somewhere amidst her rant, she acknowledged her argument was a pointless one. She really shouldn't have judged him based on his past, but how could she do anything else? Besides, Hermione giving up her argument to agree with him? It wasn't bloody likely to happen any time soon. She refused to be shown up by Draco-Sodding-Malfoy.
His eyes narrowed. He rose off of the couch gracefully, rising to his full height. His hands were clenched into fists by his side, the knuckles turning white. A murderous glint sparked in his now molten-silver eyes. Hermione shrunk into the couch slightly, her fighting spirit slowly deflating. A silent fury overtook his form, and Hermione flinched at the sound of his voice.
"You think you're so fucking noble, don't you? You always say you're looking for the good in others, right? Then why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that I'm not evil? I'm not a death eater anymore, you know I didn't fucking want the mark in the first place. Why still cling to your previous mindset? Look Granger, you best understand that I'm not letting you leave this office without you whole-heartedly believing that I'm not the brainless git I once was." Malfoy's voice was venomous. It was cold and deceptively calm. He leaned down towards her, his face inches from her own. He was completely expressionless, but she could tell by the tight clenching of his jaw and the suppressed ire within his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to Avada her. Her blood chilled, her eyes widening slightly. She didn't want to give up though.
"Sod off, Malfoy. You can't hold me here, nor will you be able to persuade my beliefs any time in the next century. That being said Mr. Malfoy, could you please take a seat so I can conduct this interview?" Hermione spat bitterly. She hadn't seen him in three years, but suddenly that time wasn't long enough. She sincerely hoped that she didn't have the misfortune of seeing him anytime soon.
"It would be my pleasure, Miss Granger." Malfoy snapped. He looked thoroughly murderous. If he wanted to be his brooding self, he could do that later. She just wanted to get through the interview and leave.
"Shall we begin?" She asked, looking up at him. Her eyes locked onto steel.
"Whenever you're ready, Miss Granger." He replied.
"So I have some questions for you, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione began.
"I thought you might." Malfoy replied, deadpan. He was laughing at her. Hermione felt her cheeks flush with both anger and embarrassment. Bloody git. She sat up, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to look intimidating.
"You're quite young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?" Hermione read the first question. She checked to make sure the quill was writing, and was pleased to see the spell worked.
Malfoy slowly rubbed his hand across his lower lip in thought. Hermione's gaze was instantly drawn to the simple action, making her flush with a strange yearning. He caught her gaze and she looked down at the paper in her hands.
"You should be well aware of my family's fortune, Miss Granger. I merely took the family business and revamped it, so to speak. I'm a rather private person, and I go a long way to protect that very privacy. You know as well as I do that I normally don't give interviews." He looked at her with vague disappointment. Hermione instantly felt a strange stab of guilt. She knew how private he was. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. She couldn't help the slight spark of curiosity though.
"Then why agree to this interview? I know you're not particularly fond of Ginn-Miss Weasley." Hermione asked. He gave her an incredulous look.
"I agreed to this because I'm a benefactor of the university, and she's doing this for the university's newspaper. And for the record, I felt like after everything, I owed it to her. Plus she kept badgering my secretaries, and I admire that kind of tenacity."
Hermione was well aware of how tenacious Ginny could be. It was because of it that she was sitting here uncomfortably, conducting this fail of an interview. She glanced down at the sheet, preparing herself for the next question.
"After Hogwarts, you never chose to pursue your educational career. Why?" This one had Hermione interested. She would admit her slight adoration for learning, so she was curious as to why he never went onto higher education. She knew him to be exceedingly bright. Git or not, he was second in their year, only topped by herself.
"I actually did go to a muggle university for a year, Oxford, however I felt that continuing my education would ultimately be pointless. I already run a successful business, so there's no point going to classes that tell me how to achieve what I've accomplished. There's nothing that they offered that was of much interest to me anyway, so I dropped the course after one semester." He replied calmly. His eyes bore into hers the entire time, as though expecting her to yell at him for being foolish.
"Let me see if I understand this correctly, you got into the number one university in the muggle world, and dropped out because you didn't feel it would better your future in anyway?" Hermione balked. All of her childhood was spent dreaming of Oxford, she even went there to practice medicine for a year. She personally had loved it, and it was part of her healing program to go to a muggle university and study medicine. The whole idea of going there and dropping 'just because' was quite honestly, unfathomable.
"Yes, that is correct." He smirked at her. She was beginning to abhor that simple expression.
"Do you regret it?" She asked, challenging him.
"I'm not a man who regrets much of anything, so no, I don't regret dropping out of university." Malfoy's eyes glinted with mischief. Hermione felt her nerves dance in excitement. Warmth flushed through her body. He gave her a sly smile, knowing what he was doing to her. She cleared her throat, ignoring the flush that rose to her cheeks.
"Given your history, how do you think it has changed you to be the man you are now?" Shit. This was personal. Hermione glanced up at him. Any sort of subtle flirtation was effectively stopped. His face became an indifferent mask once more.
"I suppose I wouldn't have any way of knowing, now would I, Miss Granger?" He replied. She shrunk back into the couch, wishing for the soft leather to swallow her until the time for the interview was up.
"How old were you when you took the Dark Mark?" Hermione asked. It wasn't on the sheet. She hadn't even considered what she was saying before it tumbled out of her mouth. But there the question was, hanging awkwardly in the tense silence that stretched between them.
"Sixteen." He growled,"Either Miss Weasley has some rather intrusive questions, or you, Miss Granger, should attempt to restrain your curiosity." He gave her a withering glare, silencing any opposition. She nodded in acquiescence, unaware of what had come over her to ask that.
"Sorry." Hermione croaked. She hated how small he made her feel.
"Continue with your questions, Miss Granger." He politely offered. His anger seemed to be slowly dissipating but he still looked guarded. Then again, he always looked guarded.
Forty-five minutes later, Hermione finished the last of the six pages of questions Ginny had given her. She had asked some of her own, but she wasn't one to quell her inquisitive nature. She was also surprised by Malfoy. Just like he said, he had completely changed. The prejudiced, spoiled brat she knew was gone, and in his place was a cultured, well-defined man who knew how to make the world his playground. It was somewhat inspiring to say the least, not that she'd ever tell him that. They were just finishing up when Andrea came in the door.
"Sir, it is seven-thirty." She said. Hermione wondered why she had to come in here to tell him that. He did have clocks in the office.
"You may go, Andrea." He said. Ah, so it was the end of their workday. That made more sense. As soon as the door closed, Hermione glanced back at Malfoy, only to see his intense eyes on her.
"Malfoy?" She asked, hoping he would stop staring. She felt a flush spread throughout her body. The heat of his gaze warmed her skin. Heat pooled in her nether region, reminding her of just how long it had been since she'd appeased the tension.
"You've changed, Granger." He admitted, his eyes boring into hers. He leaned in closer to her, his cologne once again intoxicating her with its scent. She knew that it wasn't all the cologne though, there was something about him that was intoxicating. He was like the finest wine, and Hermione had every intention of getting drunk. He brushed a stray curl off of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. His hand left fire in its wake, scorching her soul with its exquisite burn. His lips were so close to hers now. She glanced down at his sensuous mouth, vaguely wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She had no doubts he was skilled, but factual evidence to back up that claim suddenly became a very tempting reality.
"Fuck it." He growled before grabbing the back of her neck, dragging her lips to his. As soon as their lips met, Hermione felt what could only be described as carnal bliss.