Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

EMBERS

VIII

The following day went by in a blur. Hermione rushed off to work in a hurry. Fashion Week was approaching. She was going to be very, very busy. She was thankful that the two Slytherins allowed themselves to be locked away in her office. She left them with plenty to entertain themselves with: iPods, PSPs, laptops, and even a Nintendo Wii. They were like kids on Christmas morning.

By the time her day ended, she was exhausted. She trudged into the house with her two bodyguards arguing behind her about some game they played on the computer. Night had already fallen. She entered the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. She paused when she saw Fiona's favorite Coach purse sitting on the countertop. She had only seen Fiona twice that day. Once during the morning, before she left. And second, at the agency.

What on earth was she doing home this early?

"Blaise is too tired to cook dinner, so I was thinking we could order Chinese." Draco announced, coming into the kitchen.

"Sure, whatever." Hermione said, downing her glass of water with a huge gulp.

"Thirsty much?"

"Very."

Hermione was grateful for their light-hearted exchange. They had not really talked about the night before – about the kiss, about waking up together on the couch. Blaise had found them. He was only vaguely amused. Hermione had been so swamped for work that she almost completely forgotten about it. Until now. She was about to open up on the topic – ask him why he kissed her when Fiona flounced into the kitchen wearing a glitzy Diane Von Furstenberg dress.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked bewildered. As her aunt's personal assistant, she knew that Fiona did not have anything scheduled for tonight. It was supposed to be her night off.

"I have a date." Fiona said, her eyes twinkling as she twirled around in front of Hermione. "Do you like the dress? I spent hours looking for the perfect one."

"It looks lovely," Hermione agreed and then added. "But you never spend hours looking for a dress just for a date!"

"This one's special." Fiona said pointedly, grabbing her purse from the counter.

"Oh?"

"I'm going out with Christophe Gilles."

Hermione's mouth formed a perfect O. Christophe Gilles was one of the richest men in France and it was a well-known fact that he was very picky about his women. It was no secret that he was on the hunt for a wife. The only problem was, he was a bit – not ugly per se, but Fiona had a penchant for handsome men and Christophe Gilles was not one of them.

So instead, Hermione said: "But he's ten years your senior."

"So?" Fiona said with a shrug. "He's actually very nice. Polite. Intelligent. There's nothing wrong with giving him a try."

"I suppose." Hermione said just as a loud honk sounded from the driveway.

"That's my cue!" Fiona said blowing them kisses.

"Enjoy your night." Draco said with a nod.

"Bye." Hermione waved.

"So," Draco started. "About last night -- "

"You don't have to say anything," Hermione said quickly. "We were just caught in the moment – that's all."

Draco stared at her like she had grown two heads. Hermione wondered whether she had said the wrong thing.

"Did it feel that way?" He asked softly. His eyes were burning into hers. She shifted on her feet. For some reason, she could not look away. They were pulling her to him. It was like gravity.

Did it? She thought. Of course it didn't. Draco Malfoy was the first person to completely erase Ron Weasley from her mind during a single kiss. Draco Malfoy was the also the first person since Ron Weasley to make her feel this alive. It was like being submerged in water for years and then finally coming up for air. She knew that Draco was the reason that she was able to forget – for at least a moment – everything that Ron had done to her.

"Because it didn't to me." Draco said. The authenticity in his voice made her heart begin to beat with incredible speed. "You've changed a lot Hermione -- and I think I like it." A smirk formed on his face.

God that smirk.

"Why so quiet?" He asked, his breath tickling her face. He smelled so good. "I'm going to kiss you again Hermione." He leaned in closer. "If you don't like it, you can always just say stop. And I will."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. His face loomed closer. Her lips parted automatically.

"GUYS!" Blaise called out from the living room. They sprang apart. "I think you'd better take a look at this!"

They exchanged a glance before hurrying out of the kitchen and into the living room. Blaise was sitting in the middle of the sofa, his back ramrod straight, eyes fixed on the flatscreen where the evening news was just beginning. They settled themselves on either side of him. Blaise picked up the remote and increased the volume.

"…was found by the maid lying facedown on his bed. Paramedics could not identify the cause of his death. Investigation is still ongoing. Although there seems to be no evidence of foul play, the destruction of all surveillance cameras suggest otherwise. While suicide is being considered, family and friends refuse to jump to this conclusion."

A picture of a young man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes was flashed on screen.

Hermione gasped.

Draco's head whipped to the side at the sound of Hermione's horrified gasp. She was staring at the screen with wide eyes. Disbelief was thoroughly etched across her face. "Do you know him?"

"He – he's an actor. His name is Adrien Damas. I remember seeing him at the benefit last week. He had been talking to Aunt Fiona along with – oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Hermione had shot out of her seat and was furiously rummaging through her bag. "Where is that damned phone!"

"Wait, what are you talking about Hermione?" Blaise asked, alarmed. "Along with who?"

Hermione finally surfaced with her mobile phone. She hit a few keys and pressed it to her ear, waiting. "Christophe Gilles." She said darkly. "The very man that Aunt Fiona is currently on a date with."

"I spoke to him on the phone." Blaise said with a frown. "He seemed decent. We can't jump into conclusions right now. We don't have proof!"

"She's not answering." Hermione ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Come on Blaise. You heard what they said. The doctors can't even identify the cause of his death. We all know that the Killing Curse doesn't leave a mark. The person just – drops dead."

Draco knew this perfectly. The Killing Curse was one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It caused instant death to the victim. Other than that, it had no other effects nor markings. In fact, victims were usually described to be completely healthy apart from the fact that they were all dead. It would make sense that the Muggles wouldn't find anything wrong with the victim.

"But what makes you think that it's Gilles who's behind this?" Blaise implored. "And why on earth would he kill Damas? It's not like the two of you know each other. And Damas must have acquainted himself with a whole lot of other people."

"Polyjuice Potion." Hermione concluded, knowing full well that the Death Eater's real name was Thorfinn Rowle and that he did not look a thing like Christophe Gilles. The Death Eater's face flashed in her mind and she had to suppress a shudder.

Draco nodded. "Possible. Give her another ring."

Hermione continued to dial. She sagged with relief when Fiona finally picked up. She put her on speakerphone. "Is there anything wrong, Hermione?" Fiona's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Just checking up on you Auntie." Hermione said brightly.

"How sweet of you."

"I was wondering what time you were coming home?"

"We're just finishing up dinner here. But we'll be home in a while. Speaking of which, perhaps you could check if there's still some champagne available? I'm not entirely sure if there is."

"I will. I'll send you a text. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Looks like she's safe and sound." Blaise noted. "And I suppose she's bringing her date home."

Draco smirked. "Someone's getting some action tonight."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not entirely something that I enjoy. Thank you."

"Are you jealous?" Draco drawled. Hermione shot him a glare. Blaise merely laughed.

"I assure you that I am not." Hermione huffed. "I'm going to take a bath. In the meantime, you can make yourselves useful and check if there's any champagne left. If not, the both of you can go buy some." She barged up the stairs.

"We're not maids here Hermione!" Blaise called out after her rather indignantly.

They were responded to by a loud snort.

"Right." Blaise sighed and proceeded to the kitchen. Draco followed. "You don't suppose the Death Eater has discovered Hermione's whereabouts, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. We just have to be careful. Hopefully, he doesn't know that we're here. And if he decides to attack, he'll be outnumbered."

"So," Blaise said as he finally found a bottle of Dom Perignon. "Has she told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Why she left."

Draco nodded.

"No wonder she seemed so tense around you."

"That's not the reason."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

Draco just smirked.

TBC

A/N: Review?