A/N: We hate to be repetitive, but- thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, story alerts. :D You guys are the best. We've received such wonderful reviews, they always make our day. Hopefully you all enjoy Draco and Hermione's date in this chapter! :)

Chapter 9

The date was set to take place that night. Ralph chattered on about the games he would play with James and Lily, oblivious to the nervous tension building up between his parents.

"James has a toy broom," Ralph said, holding on to Draco as they prepared to Floo. "Can I ride it, Daddy?"

"Of course," Draco said, as Hermione disappeared into the flames. "But only if your Uncle Harry or Aunt Ginny is watching, all right? And don't let go of the broom once you're on it."

"Okay. Mummy packed my truck so we can play trucks!"

Draco smiled. "That sounds like fun." He threw the Floo powder into the flames and stepped forward. "Grimmauld Place."

Once they arrived, Ralph continued talking. "It is fun. I push my truck and James pushes his and sometimes mine goes farther and sometimes his does."

"Well, I hope you win," Draco whispered, then smirked at Harry who was watching them suspiciously.

"Planning something evil there, Draco?" Harry asked, approaching the two.

"Just telling him to play fair," Draco set Ralph down.

"Uncle Harry!" Ralph greeted Harry before running off to find James.

"Telling him to play fair?" Harry turned to Draco skeptically.

"Believe what you like, Potter," Draco smirked. He looked for Hermione, who was talking to Ginny. Seeing him, Ginny brought Hermione over.

"Ready to leave?" Draco asked. "We still have to get dressed."

"Ginny was just giving me some last pointers," Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "It's not like I haven't been on a date before, Gin."

"But not with your husband, you haven't," Ginny shot back. "Besides, this date is special."

"Right. And we can't be late," Draco said, turning to leave.

Ginny held him back. "Wait. I just wanted to tell you guys to have fun. Relax. Don't think of yourselves as husband and wife. All right?"

"Sure," Draco tried to look as bored as possible, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. "It's hard to think of someone as your wife when you don't remember marrying her. Can we go now?"

Ginny scowled at him. "You were much nicer to me before you lost your memory, you know."

"I doubt that," Draco said, as Harry began chuckling.

"Actually, you weren't," he told Draco, earning himself a scathing look from his wife. "You'd tease Ginny as much as any of her brothers."

Draco threw Ginny a triumphant smirk before disappearing into the fire. Hermione followed a few moments later.

"Ginny's enjoying this," Hermione said, looking mildly irritated. "She enjoys giving advice- romantic advice- as though this is really easy."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Like she's an expert on memory loss."

Hermione sighed and went to her closet. "Well, we agreed to this, we might as well try. What time do we have to be there?"

"I said seven-thirty. That gives us roughly an hour to get dressed. You can shower first."

"Thanks."

An hour later, they stood outside The Black Cat. Hermione took a deep breath, her mouth dry.

"Are you always nervous before a date?" Draco asked, gallantly offering his arm.

"I just feel like this date is really important, and we can't mess up," she said, taking his arm. "And another thing, I can't remember being on any dates in the last few years."

"We're in the same boat then." Draco led the way to the doors, which were held open by a waiter.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," he greeted them amicably. "It's been a while since your last visit."

Draco smiled at the man. "We've both been rather busy."

"Understandable, sir." The waiter picked up a couple of menus. "The usual spot, sir, madam," he said, leading the way to a secluded table for two. He held Hermione's chair out for her.

"Thank you," she said, taking her seat.

He waited patiently while they chose their orders. Once he had disappeared, Hermione leaned towards Draco. "Do you remember his name?"

Draco shook his head. "No. He does look familiar, though." He looked at the dance floor, where several couples were already dancing. "Would you like to dance?"

Hermione paled. "Dance?" She laughed nervously. "I'm not a great dancer."

"I thought you danced rather well at the Yule Ball."

"Years ago. Maybe we can dance after dinner, if you want," she offered, hoping he'd forget about it by then. "After I've had some wine."

Draco smirked. "All right."

They were silent for a while, as the wine arrived, and then the complimentary rolls. Draco drummed his fingers against the table, wishing he knew what to say.

"You look beautiful tonight," he finally said, since it had been on his mind. Hermione was pretty, a fact he couldn't get out of his head since he had first seen her all dressed up. She was wearing a simple, though rather sexy, black dress, and she had fixed her hair until it looked like it had been effortlessly tamed- which Draco knew was not the case. There was also a pink tinge to her cheeks that Draco found quite alluring.

"Thanks," Hermione blushed even more. "I wasn't sure- my hair wouldn't cooperate." She looked at him, wanting to return the compliment, but not sure what to say. "I'm sure you know how nice you look. You always look nice."

Draco smirked at her. "It's hereditary. Ralph's inherited it."

It took a long time for the blush on her cheeks to fade, and Draco realized that she was genuinely pleased by his compliment. The thought made him smile.

"So," Hermione cleared her throat, finishing the last of her roll, "how have you been these past four-or five years?" She had no recollection of him during the period that they had dated; in fact, if she had to give her last memory of him it would probably have been his family's trial by the Wizengamot.

"It's hard to believe, but I actually got married," Draco told her solemnly.

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "And who is the lucky lady?"

"Can't tell you. Don't remember."

Hermione laughed. "Was she that terrible a wife?"

"I've no idea," Draco said. "I think my memory is just really poor."

"Your poor wife, to be forgotten like that."

"Oh, it's all right," he said, still serious. "The thing is, she's forgotten me too. So it all works out."

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "The story of our lives."

Draco grinned. "Rather pathetic, through no fault of our own." He took a sip of wine. "But, seriously now, I don't think anything's really happened to me these five years. The company is practically the same, although we've gotten bigger. It's not terribly interesting."

"Well then, I have a question."

"Of course you do," he said teasingly.

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out. "Why do we live in Malfoy Manor? I don't know why I agreed to it before."

"I spoke to Mother about that. She said she and Father didn't want to live there anymore, and once you and I got married, gave the house over to me. It was a while before we decided to live in it. We lived in a flat first, but then we figured that it was a waste of money, not living in the Manor. It was difficult, at first, but we renovated the rooms where… where things happened."

"Oh." Hermione contemplated that for a moment, then said, "I suppose it makes sense. And why should I be afraid of a room, after all? It wasn't the room's fault. And I hardly remember what it looked like anyway."

Draco looked uncomfortable. "Let's not talk about that."

Hermione was slightly surprised. She supposed she had never stopped to consider how it had felt for Draco, watching her get tortured. They must have spoken about it before getting married, but she couldn't remember and since he didn't want to think of it, she cast around for a suitable topic. "All right then, I have another question." Draco didn't reply except to raise an eyebrow.

"What were your plans four years ago? Did you mean to settle down with a wife and child?"

"The food's here," he said, looking over her shoulder. Hermione frowned but decided not to press him until the waiter had left and Draco had started enthusiastically on his steak.

"It must be hard to remember, but maybe what you felt then is similar to what you feel now," Hermione said, referring to her earlier question.

Draco sat back against his chair with a sigh. "Relax, Granger, I was going to answer your question. I was thinking, all right? It's not an easy question to answer." When she nodded, he resumed eating, much to her annoyance. Eventually he took a sip of wine and turned his attention away from his meal. "I think I had great plans for the company. I fulfilled most of them in the past five or so years- that much I remember- so I must have had plans. As to settling down, my mother was always hinting about it, but most of the time I was happy as a bachelor. Other times I started to think maybe she was right. I don't think I was desperate to get married, but I did want a serious relationship." He smirked at her. "Does that answer your question? Or does it raise a dozen more?"

"I'm satisfied."

"What about you? Did you want to be a mother?"

"Of course I did," Hermione answered easily. "I think I always wanted to get married and have a family, I just never included it in my plans because- I can admit this now- I wasn't sure it would ever happen. There were other, more attractive girls out there than the bossy, bushy-haired workaholic Muggle-born that I am. You could say that I was pretty resigned to becoming an old maid."

"Whatever happened between you and Weasley?"

"I'd prefer it if you call him Ron," Hermione said, frowning slightly. "There are a lot of other male Weasleys, you know. Anyway, we tried it for a bit, after the war. I went back to school, and he didn't, and it was hard to work on a long-distance relationship, especially because there was no… spark between us, I guess you could say. It just didn't feel like what I was looking for."

"Oh."

Both were quiet for a while, calmly enjoying their meal, but her words had left the inevitable question hanging in the air. Neither wanted to ask it, but both wanted to know the answer.

Eventually, Hermione did, but she fixed her attention on what was left of her dinner.

"Do you feel a spark between us?"

Draco noticed that her cheeks coloured as she asked the question, and his own face began to feel hot. "Er," he stalled by taking a sip of wine, "well, I don't deny that I could have done worse- I mean, you are rather- I suppose I can imagine why I fell in love with you," he stammered.

"But you don't feel it now." It was a statement, not a question.

Draco looked up from his plate to find Hermione finally looking at him. "I don't know. Do you?"

It was a very noncommittal answer, and Hermione didn't quite know how to respond. "It could be there, if we let it. It's not like we've done anything to create a spark." Then she shook her head and laughed. "Ginny said not to think about this problem, and that's all we've talked about. I'm afraid it's my fault. Let's talk about your friends. You've met mine already."

"Well, Goyle's one of the assistant managers for the Harpies, and Pansy's a happily married housewife. She married Richard Greengrass, the brother of Daphne."

"Really? Do you see them much?"

"Sometimes. But Pansy has twin sons, and they're quite a handful."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure! Ralph is sometimes too much for just one person to handle- I can't imagine what it would be like if he had a twin. From the stories Molly Weasley's told us-" the words died on her lips as her eyes darted to her right hand, the hand which Draco was currently holding.

She had been so caught up in their conversation that she hadn't noticed him slowly reach across the table and cover her hand with his. She looked back at Draco, who smiled politely at her. "You were saying?"

Hermione drew a shaky breath but didn't remove her hand from under Draco's. It felt nice, and the way he stroked his thumb across her knuckles sent tingles up her arm. "Why are you doing that?"

"To see if there's a spark."

"Is there?"

Draco stopped to consider it for a moment. His earlier compliment to her-that she was beautiful- had been on his mind the entire night, partly because he wondered how he had missed it before, and partly because he knew it was true. In front of him was a beautiful woman, and he, a man, couldn't help but be affected by her. It was definitely a spark, but was it the spark they were looking for? "I'm not sure yet. Let's dance."

Hermione allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, trying to hide her disappointment. She had been so sure that she had felt something when Draco touched her, but he hadn't felt it. She was confused and embarrassed.

Draco guided her to a spot near the center and put his hands on her waist. "Don't be so tense," he chided gently, "you've had wine already." He nodded encouragingly as she positioned her hands on his shoulders, and they began moving to the music. He was surprised to find that she wasn't half as bad at dancing as she seemed to believe. Then again, perhaps she couldn't remember five years' worth of dancing with him.

Hermione relaxed as the song went on, something Draco was profoundly glad of. They had been dancing too far apart in his opinion, but he had been hesitant to draw her closer while she seemed to be on the defensive. He took half a step forward and slipped his hands around from her waist to the small of her back and pushed her towards him slightly. She resisted for only a moment, then put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. She relished the feeling of his strong, masculine body against hers, although she told herself that she was only playing along for appearances sake. Apparently she and Draco were well known in The Black Cat.

Draco's hands were drawing small patterns on her back, and he turned his head to whisper into her ear. "Damn it, Hermione, I think Ginny had a good idea for once in her life."

Hermione pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. "What do you mean?"

"This date idea. I don't remember any more than I did yesterday, but I understand a lot better. If our first date years ago was anything like this one, it's no wonder we had a second."

That was all he said, but Hermione knew exactly what he meant. They might never remember falling in love in the past, but they both knew that it was a definite possibility in the future.

Feeling slightly shaky, she put her head against his shoulder again, uncomfortable with having his face, his lips, so close to hers. It seemed too inviting, too easy to move forward and kiss him. Hermione didn't feel ready for that yet, and tried to concentrate on the patterns his fingers were tracing.

Draco tried not to feel the puffs of breath that tickled his neck and sent shivers down his spine. He wondered if it had been like this the first time- if the attraction had been this sudden, or if it was only like this because he still remembered, on some level, what it was like to love Hermione.

When the song ended, Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder. "Are you up for another one?" he asked.

She nodded. "All right. One more."

They danced to three more songs before Draco finally led Hermione off the dance floor. "It's getting a bit crowded," he said, leading the way to their table. "Do you want dessert?"

Hermione smiled. "I love dessert. Do you know what they have?"

It was half past ten in the evening when they arrived home. Draco laughed as he and Hermione Apparated into the Manor. "It's strange, going home together," he said, chuckling. "Usually, on the first date, I'd be dropping you off before I go home. But now we're both home."

"Even stranger that we share a bed," Hermione grinned. She turned to lead the way to their bedroom. "We should do this again."

"Asking me out, are you?" he teased. "Can't get enough of me?"

"Hardly," she said, unable to hide her smile.

"Well, if you won't do it, then I will. Will you go out with me again?"

"Draco, we share a bedroom." Hermione felt oddly embarrassed that he had to ask. She wondered if he was a little tipsy. "You don't need to ask, we're married."

"So that's a yes?"

She blushed more, quite unused to having someone ask her out. "Yes, it's a yes."

"Good," he grinned. Draco opened the door to their bedroom and stepped back to let her go first.

"This is really strange, isn't it?" Hermione asked, sitting on the bed and removing her shoes. "I mean, we're married, but we've practically just had our first date. I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to behave."

"Neither am I," he admitted, unlacing his shoes and placing them in the cabinet. "And even more confusing…" he trailed off as he removed his belt.

"What?" she prompted, beginning to remove her earrings. "What's more confusing?"

"Nothing." Draco hung his belt in his closet and got out some pyjamas. "I was just thinking that it's rather confusing, hating you and then loving you, hating you and then… starting to- to not hate you again." Embarrassed, he cleared his throat loudly. "Er, will you use the bathroom first or will I?"

"You can go first," Hermione accepted the change of subject readily. She took off her necklace and then lay back on the bed. "Don't take too long though, I'm rather sleepy."

"I won't." Draco slipped into the bathroom and undressed. He stepped into the shower and sighed as the warm water hit him. Hermione was right, what was the proper etiquette for a date like this? He wanted to kiss her- he almost had, when they were dancing- but it seemed much too soon. He was starting to fall for her- or had he already fallen? In one night, in three hours, things had changed. But it felt right.

Irritated with himself, Draco finished his rather inconclusive shower and brushed his teeth. He opened the door to find Hermione fast asleep, her hair spread out over the pillow, back to its naturally messy state.

He approached her quietly, pausing to look at her. He must have been blind, to not have seen how pretty she was. Not a traditional beauty, but beautiful in her own way. He resisted the temptation to touch her cheek and shook her arm instead.

"Your turn."

Hermione opened her eyes and blinked a few times before sitting up. "Thanks." She gathered her things and took her turn in the bathroom. Draco was still awake when she finished, reading a book. He turned off the lights when she got into bed.

"Good night, Draco," Hermione said, snuggling under the blanket.

"Good night," he replied, stifling a yawn, his eyes sliding shut.