Disclaimer: All recognisable elements are attributable to J.K.R. Too bad really.

A/N: I am finally glad to get this out to you! Enjoy!

Chapter 15

Draco had sat at his desk, reclining against the soft leather of his chair, flicking his pen, as he stared absently at his couches. Specifically, he was staring at the couch. The one affiliated with that spontaneous and unforgettable event, the one that was forever marred with Granger's lingering scent from her recent departure, and his fresh memory. Draco blinked to ease his thought process. All he could see was Granger, exposed and willing. His mind was saturated.

'It was just sex,' he continuously reminded himself. 'Even Granger thought it was a mistake. It was a mistake! An inevitable mistake! Damn!' He tossed his pen across the desk and swiftly swivelled up and out of his executive chair, grabbing his jacket. Draco walked out of the office, slamming the door behind him, causing Mac to jump out of his seat in automated shock. He rarely expressed frustration at the office.

"Draco, you want me to get you anything?" he offered. He was pulling at his shirt tails, untucked under his v-neck cashmere vest, uncertain of how to respond to the unusual behaviour of his boss. Slytherins rarely exhibited emotion other than anger, displeasure or derision. On the contrary, his boss looked edgy, frazzled and agitated.

It had been a strange morning, and Mac wondered whether it had anything to do with the visit from Hermione Granger. Of course, the walls were silenced so he could only take a wild guess. "Ministry troubles?" he questioned. Draco shot him an accusing look.

"Mac, I'm out for the rest of the day. Call me if there's anything urgent. Cancel my lunch appointment with that reporter. Reschedule. Whatever," he said distractedly.

"Uh, but it's in fifteen minutes," he looked at the large clock on the wall behind his desk which was charmed to show Draco's schedule. Draco looked up at it for confirmation.

"Shit, we've cancelled before on this one, haven't we?" Mac nodded. "Hmmm," he pondered momentarily before announcing with resolution in his voice, "you can go for me."

"What?" Mac spluttered, "What do I know about mergers and acquisitions?" He was annoyed.

"Fudge it. Pretend the discussion is about Pudlemere United merging with the Chudley Canons."

Mac scrunched up his face at the impertinent thought. "That would be a disaster!"

"Exactly. It's never a smooth process. You'll be fine. They always ask fluffy questions, anyway," he reassured bluntly. Mac looked irritated, affronted that Draco had somehow taken out his frustration on him, but he'd get over it. Draco walked out of the office, with a view to avoid returning until Monday. The sentiment 'T.G.I Friday' had never rung so true.

Draco had sauntered out of his office building only to have his mobile phone ringing the minute he stepped out. It was Mac.

"What's up?"

"An owl just arrived from Blaise. He's wants to confirm that you're heading to his family's estate tonight?" Draco swore under his breath. He really just wanted to do nothing, but it would probably bring him some mental relief to hang out, away from London.

"I'll call him. Don't you have a meeting to attend?" he joked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Don't expect me in on Monday, I'm taking a sick day from all this stress." Draco laughed.

"If you're not in on Monday, don't bother coming in on Tuesday either. I'll buy you lunch, ok?" He could not make out what Mac was mumbling. "What?"

"Fine!" Mac hung up. Draco slipped his phone in his pocket and headed south toward the Ministry. He needed a portkey to Italy for the night. 'May as well start drinking early,' he thought. The Zabini estate had plenty of wine.

OOO

Draco arrived in the Chianti region of Tuscany, at the pebbled driveway marking the entrance of a boutique winery which housed the rustic, limestone palazzo owned by the Zabini family. It was surrounded by green gardens, fountains and valleys of wine yard which stretched out onto the horizon. The sweetness in the air did not escape his senses as he noticed some workers harvesting the grapes. The afternoon sun shocked his pale skin as he made his way through the courtyard to the familiar entrance. A house elf greeted him.

"Mister Malfoy," he acknowledged, bowing.

"How many times have I told you to call me Draco?" he responded before walking past the elf who was still bowed over. "Now, where would Blaise be at this time of day?"

"He is in the cellars Mister Draco. May I take you there?"

"It's just Draco, no 'Mister'. And no, I do not wish to go down to the gloomy cellars. I will be out in the garden enjoying the sun. Bring me a bottle of the classico reserve."

"Certainly."

Draco made his way back outside to the outdoor dining area where he swiftly made himself comfortable on one the reclining chairs. A carafe of the reserve appeared beside him and he eagerly poured himself a generous glass. The first contact with the full bodied liquid brought a smile of satisfaction to his lips. He leaned back, letting the sun tickle his skin as he sipped with his eyes closed. This was the life.

"Draco!" The peace was short lived as Draco opened one eye to see Blaise looking over him from behind the chair. His hair was disheveled and his bronzed skin only emphasised the whiteness of his t-shirt. He had the holiday glow which Malfoy so sorely lacked. Blaise removed his sunglasses; resting them over his head as he scrutinized his friend.

"Since when do you leave work early to start drinking?"

"I make exceptions for your wine, Blaise."

"I can see that. Still the best isn't it?"

"Yep, too bad your mother won't let you sell it."

"You should be the first to understand her mentality. Exclusive and superior keeps the enemies pacified when they're sent the annual dozen by mother dearest. The more she hates them, the better the wine. Makes them cringe with envy. She's a laugh."

"Smart woman," Draco conceded before sipping, swirling the burgundy liquid in his glass to check out its legs. Blaise sat in the chair next to him and called for his house elf.

"Master Zabini requests something?"

"Some cheese and fruit should do the trick." The elf bowed before disappearing as Blaise poured himself a glass.

"How's that fiancé of yours doing?"

"Padma's at her sister's. Boyfriend troubles, or something, so, she won't be coming down this weekend. They're planning a night out at that new club Blue Diamond tomorrow. Padma wants me to go with them. You should come."

"The name rings a bell. I think we're entertaining some company affiliates there tomorrow night. Carla's arranged it so I guess I'll be there. What's Padma's sister's name?"

"Pavarti."

"Newly single did you say?" Blaise sent him a 'don't go there look'.

"Don't even think about it. I don't want Padma involving me just because you're my friend. She'd kill me for letting you zone in on her sister's fragile rebound state. Anyway, aren't you seeing that Carla chick?"

"I told you, we're not exclusive."

"It sure didn't look that way at Weasley's lunch."

"Yeah, well I was just trying to piss Granger off." It had slipped out before he realised what he'd said. The wine was too relaxing.

"Did you say Granger? Hermione Granger?"

"Forget it." Draco dismissed as he savored another mouthful of the rich flavour. He could see Blaise's mind working behind his narrowed eyes from his periphery, as the silence consumed them.

"Something tells me there is more to this than simply living up to old habits," Blaise finally stated resolutely.

"Well…it's complicated," was all he responded pensively.

"Hey, we have about two hours until sunset and I plan on sitting out here until then." Blaise affirmed.

"Let's just say, Granger and I have been seeing a lot of each other lately." Blaise stared at him, puzzled.

"Do elaborate Draco, I don't want to imply things with wine in my system and the sun on my face. Who knows what crazy conclusion I can reach" Draco said nothing for a moment, deliberating whether he should unleash what had transpired, but he merely shrugged. A cheese platter appeared and he reached for a piece.

"Has it got anything to do with that magazine of hers?"

"Well, that's part of it. The Ministry gave us the contract to advertise, finally. If the Minister hadn't taken an interest, Granger never would have agreed to it."

"So, she's not too pleased about it then? What's new? Hermione's never exactly been ecstatic to see you or associate with you." Blaise laughed at the prospect.

Draco wanted to add, 'She's certainly been another kind of ecstatic,' but simply smirked in response which only made Blaise more curious.

"Fuck, Malfoy, since when do you have a roundabout way of telling me things. It's Friday, I have spent the day castigating the employees, and you want to direct your smirks at me! Now I know how Padma must feel!"

"Granger and I slept together. Is that clear enough?" Draco submitted exasperated at his persistent friend. Blaise's mouth dropped, and his great azure eyes widened in disbelief. The sight was rather humorous, except for the fact that it was in response to a rather absurd notion.

"Shut you're mouth Blaise, I keep having the same reaction. I don't want to see my mirror image." He gulped the rest of his glass and poured himself another.

"What would make Hermione want to sleep with you?" Blaise queried more for his own sense of reasoning.

"Why wouldn't she want to?" he defended.

"I'm not challenging you're womanizing abilities, man, but Hermione Granger is untouchable. Not to mention your pasts! She must have been drunk." Draco shot him a glare.

"Now you're just insulting me! If you want me to tell you about it you can at least be reasonable! And, she was not drunk! Trust me, I've seen Granger drunk!" He scowled for hinting at something that would warrant further explanation.

"Oh?" Blaise raised an eyebrow in interest.

"At the ministry annual ball," he reluctantly informed as the memory of his reaction to Granger before he had realized it was her flooded his mind. "I didn't know it was her, she had sprained her ankle and I happened to be around when she fell, so I heeled it and helped her home." Both of Blaise's eyebrows were now raised, a hint of mirth present in his expression.

"Well that certainly clears up the why Hermione might, and I say might, be into you on some level. You certainly played your cards right!"

"Fuck off Blaise. I was raised properly, even if my father was blinded by power, my mother paid attention to nurturing me on some humane level. I couldn't have left her there for everyone to witness her state and injury."

"Wow, you really must have been attracted to her before you realized it was her."

"Your sarcasm does not escape me," he replied with a strained calmness. "I could say the same thing for you. How did Padma fall for a cocky slytherin? Matured with age? Like this five year old fine wine of yours?"

"She only wants to marry me for my money, and my body, and perhaps she might love me a little bit but, that is really third down the list." Blaise joked.

"Yeah, right. If I recall correctly, you mentioned something about sex being better with someone you love?" he chuckled.

"Funny you remember that?" Draco frowned.

"So, Hermione Granger. How was it?" Draco was taken aback at the question. He had naturally compared it himself but, to be openly questioned about Granger's performance in the sack was rather bizarre. He felt unable to divulge any details, where normally he would not hesitate.

"That good eh?" Blaise finished off his own glass, shaking his head in wonderment, before pouring himself another. Draco was quiet; a troubled thoughtful silence enveloped him.

"Well, she is a perfectionist," he muttered, a half-smile on his face. Blaise almost choked on his wine.

"You should hear yourself. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"It only happened once." Blaise was once again overcome with shock.

"When?"

"Today." This time, Blaise did choke. His coughing fit interchanging with laughter. There was no way Malfoy was going to disclose the whereabouts of the event.

"For some reason, I don't feel like assisting you," he retorted, semi annoyed at his friend's reaction. Blaise shook his head, brandishing his hands to signify that he was okay and that he did not intend any ill-harm. He finally composed himself, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Something tells me you will have a hard time distracting yourself when you're with Carla," he stated frankly.

"Thanks a lot, mate." The sun was now approaching the horizon and the telling pink and orange hues of the looming sunset were settling into the sky, creating a breathtaking blanket over the valley before them. The sound of dusk surrounded them as the nocturnal creatures awoke to fill the night with their sounds filtering through the light breeze.

"Can you see it happening again?" Blaise suddenly blurted.

"I really don't know. It's all a bit fucked, especially since we have to work together, and Carla is involved in the project."

"Sound like fun and games to me. You really are screwed." It was Blaise's turn to smirk at his well-placed pun. Draco threw a dried apricot at him in distaste.

"Shall we head out for a flying session before we get completely plastered?" Draco nodded. It really was the best time to fly, and he desperately needed to escape from the confines of land mass.

OOO

Draco found himself standing outside the elaborate club, Carla next to him, talking to their guests. She had flown in some prospective business affiliates from the continent and was playing the part of the perfect hostess. He admired her confidence, and she looked amazing, but somehow, the desire to be with her was wavering. A few drinks should fix the problem before they headed home that evening.

The night had progressed well until Draco spotted Granger at the bar ordering a drink. He decided to play it cool, but it had backfired, much to his disdain. Granger was clearly affected by what had happened, and not in a positive sense. But, he was rather pre-occupied by the fact that he had never seen her look so sexy in her black dress, her legs distracting him to no end, her shoes only accentuating their length. They were, by far, his favourite pair. He was surprised to see her out partying with Padma's sister, revealing a rather playful side that he was yet to witness. He had involuntary kept his eye out for her, even when he was with Carla, as if he had a radar zoned in to direct his attention to her position in the great space. It was rather cumbersome yet, he could not restrain himself.

Seeing Granger dance with Adrian Gillard, a former business associate who had stolen intellectual property from a Malfoy subsidiary for his own advantage, triggered an internal rage, and a strange obligation to warn Granger. It had not gone well at all as he had been too irate with Granger's reaction and apparent desire to disassociate herself from him around her friends. He had retaliated with his implied remarks, and it had ended rather sourly, leaving her more inclined to be entertained by the conniving asshole, Adrian, who's notoriety was based on his inability to function without his daily dose of underlying mal-intent. She would never listen anyway, despite his attempt to reason with her, a poor one at that, she had walked away from him after a few terse words in response to his tactlessness.

OOO

Draco was stumped. There he stood, in Diagon Alley, with Granger collapsed in his arms; all warm against him, yet passed out from an overreaction to whatever stimulant was coursing through her system. The instant he had seen her eyes under the erratic flashing lights, he had recognised the signs. Finding Granger in an altered state seemed to be a recurring event and he toyed with her briefly by making an effort to call her by her first name. It had felt foreign: about as foreign as it was to hear her only moments ago call him by his first name.

As she lay collapsed against him, her head on his shoulder, and his arms around her waist for support, Draco hoped that whatever she had taken would have no lingering magical effects. The mix of these party drugs, as he had discovered himself in the past, was never consistent. He had to act quickly. There was no way he could take her back to his apartment; Carla would be there later on. He decided to apparate to her place, certain that the wards would let them through as they recognised the charge from her wand which he suspected was on her person somewhere, or in her purse. For the second time, Draco uttered, 'Granger Residence', and felt the pull of a successful apparition, Granger firmly in his grasp.

Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of what he expected was her living room, Draco reached down to secure his hold on Granger behind her knees and lifted her into his arms as he walked down the corridor, in search of a bedroom. She was still out, her breath shallow. He could smell alcohol, and the remaining hint of her scent. It was extremely distracting, and he could not wait to rid himself of her from his grasp. He had never found himself in such a situation, and as he placed her down, ensuring her head hit the soft pillow for support, he stood up looking down at her. Could he just leave her there? He bent over, turning his head to one side to listen out for the rhythm of her breathing. It seemed steady.

"Granger?" he whispered tentatively. He could heal simple wounds but Draco was a novice to any medical magic. Reaching for his wand to cast light in the room, he brought it down over her face to inspect her closely. He skin glowed eerily under the light, her lashes casting a shadow over her cheeks. Draco gently lifted one of her eyelids to check her pupils. They immediately restricted against the light, and she stirred in reaction, lifting an arm to wave away the disturbance. He signed in relief. At least she had responded, he mused. Draco was feeling unsure as to what he should do next, for she looked rather uncomfortable with her shoes still on her feet. He decided to take them off and sat at the edge of her bed. Lifting her foot onto his lap for support, he gently undid the delicate strap around her ankle and slipped the shoe off. A sense of déjà vu came over him. He could not help but run his fingers over her ankle; it was the one he had heeled. Unconsciously, his fingers had traveled down to her foot, as he marveled at the softness of her heels. A sudden jolt to his stomach was much cause for alarm.

Draco had forgotten that Granger was extremely ticklish. "Ouch! Granger!" he flew off the bed and rubbed the area of his torso that her foot had so abruptly made contact with, and with great force at that.

She had awakened instantly at the sensation of his hands over her feet. She sat up, leaning on her elbows. "Sorry," she mumbled sleepily, smiling coyly, her eyes all groggy as she tried to make out the figure before her. "Where am I?"

"Welcome back Granger. I brought you back to your place after you so elegantly collapsed in Diagon Alley."

"Malfoy?"

"Surprise," he responded with sarcasm. "Did you forget that I was the last person you saw before your fainting episode?"

"I did what?" she frowned in thought. "I don't even remember!"

"Do you remember taking drugs, Granger?" Silence. He could see her mind backtracking through the events of the evening as her eyes narrowed, the escalating ferocity apparent.

"Adrian!" she seethed, through gritted teeth.

"Well, what did I tell you?" She shot him a glare.

"Can't really remember since I was too busy reacting to your comments on my loose morals!"

"Loose morals? How old are you Granger? 50?! And, I did apologise for that, you know."

"You did?"

"Funny how you don't remember the apology. Quite convenient, really."

"Malfoy, I don't remember anything past Carla walking in on me with that asshole."

"What?" She shrank back and covered her hands with her face. "Well, clearly it was the stupid stimulant he put in my drink!" she said, her voice muffled behind her palms.

"Do you know what he gave you?"

She dropped her hands away, the intensity of her rage evident on her face, "A fucking pheromone receptor or something akin to a lust potion."

"Shit, Granger. That can cause major blackouts and memory loss."

"So I hear," she retorted sardonically.

Don't be funny Granger, that stuff is used by couples in the privacy of their home, in controlled conditions. Not in public where - " He cut himself off as realisation suddenly dawned on him. An involuntary smirk crossed his face.

"Where what?"

"Where you might run into someone you have been with recently without the need for the stimulant," he offered. Hermione groaned and covered her face in her pillow. She did not want to think about it!

Draco was irritated by her response. She had professed to 'wanting' him while under the influence and he had been courteous enough to restrain himself from taking advantage of her open feelings, only to witness her contrary reaction at this point in time. It did not sit well with him at all. "Well, Granger, I'll have you know that whatever Adrian gave you is not hallucinogenic or mind altering, it simply removes your inhibitions so that you don't think! So, there is no point trying to deceive yourself when you so openly admitted that you 'want' me." He saw her body stiffen around the edges of her silhouette. She slowly lifted her head and turned to face him. It was strange that they had been conversing in the darkness of her room.

"Did I do anything else?" she hesitantly asked. Draco suddenly felt awkward discussing it.

"No." he lied. "You blacked out."

She slowly sat up, hand to forehead, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you switch on the light?" she asked. He nodded, knowing his physical response was in vain in the darkness. Draco moved to the light switch and flicked it on. He immediately flinched as the light shocked his eyes and he squinted to allow them to re-adjust to the sudden change.

"Thanks," she mumbled. He turned to face her. She was still sporting one shoe which amused him. Her eyes lifted to his and they regarded each other, a good distance between them. For a moment, there were no ancillary thoughts, or clouds of self-reproach. He was looking at her honestly, as if for the first time. Her own gaze appeared candid before she looked down, a slight blush on her cheeks. He found it strangely comforting.

"Thanks for bringing me home. It's been a crazy night."

"I'll judge that as understatement of the year," her remarked, rather lamely.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" He wanted to play on the 'on anything' option but he restrained himself from exercising his expected reaction. As it were, it had been an eventful evening.

"No thanks, I'm ok. But, you should make sure you drink lots of fluids." She eyed him curiously before moving to stand up. She looked down at the foot of her bent knee, seeing that she only had one shoe on. He caught her smile coyly before she looked over at him.

"Nice shoes, Granger."

"I know." Draco raised an eyebrow at her. This was the first time she had accepted the compliment.

"Uh, well, I guess I'll be off. I'll see you - " He didn't want to finish the sentence. She just nodded. He turned to walk out of her bedroom; it had not occurred to him until now that all this time he was in there. Pushing back the thought, he focused on apparating home. Carla would probably be there, waiting to question what had happened to him.

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