A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the number of hits this story received after my last post. Thanks heaps for reading. Please leave a review as well if you can!

And so it continues...

Chapter 17

Hermione found her self stepping out of a public fireplace into a stone laced courtyard in front of a cosy restaurant. The façade had been overthrown by the curly vines and spanning leaves of a pumpkin patch. The name, in brass italics across the stone archway above the doorway was rather fitting. The only structural element visible was the quaint solid red door flanked by two circular lead lined windows that hinted at the art nouveau interior. She looked around, waiting for Malfoy to appear, feeling apprehensive.

She could not look past the fact that Malfoy had shown up at her department, requesting a lunch meeting. Especially after the way she had treated him. Not to mention the double crossing Daria who was clearly up to something by allowing it. That wasn't exactly run of the mill behaviour from her reliable assistant, but perhaps it was attributable to the fact that Malfoy had presented in all his physicality and authority at Daria's desk, oozing magnetism. She could see how one would easily submit to the request of Draco Malfoy. After all, she was the perfect example of exhibiting aberrant conduct whenever she found herself within a ten foot radius of the man.

Her thoughts were broken by the auditory signal of Malfoy's arrival. She turned to face him, feeling rather befuddled by his pensive expression. He was looking behind her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a gesture she had never witnessed in him. Hermione stood a few feet away, waiting, as she couldn't decide on what else to do. His uncommonly taciturn demeanour was unexpected, yet it drove the same reaction in her. She was the one left feeling discomfited. Finally, he walked over with a new found composure.

"Glad to see you made it," he said, directing his attention to her. It seemed his tendency for sarcasm had also returned.

"Where exactly are we?" Hermione asked touchily, feeling rather displaced.

"Ever been to Bath, Granger?"

"No," she replied, wondering what he was playing at.

"Correction, Granger, now you have," he stated with a look of triumph.

"Bath?"

"Are you going to repeat everything I say today as a question? Yes, Bath. Quaint, don't you think?" Hermione couldn't detect his tone and huffed in irritation.

"I only have an hour Malfoy, and you bring me to Bath?"

Malfoy blinked.

"It's not like you took muggle transport to get here!" he exclaimed.

"Whatever," Hermione retorted crossing her arms, and looking away. He had the ability to make her feel so insecure at times.

"Shall we go inside?" he finally asked, moving away from his usual temperament, a slight strain to his tone. Hermione felt obliged to nod and followed him through the red door, into the ambient, intricately decorated interior. Despite its décor, the place had an informal bistro atmosphere, filled with small round tables. They were promptly escorted to a seat near the front window, and handed menus. Hermione busied herself with it, avoiding the man sitting opposite her.

"All the food is organic," she heard him state behind her menu. She looked up; he was looking at her intently, his forearm rested on the table over the face down menu.

"I always order the same thing," he shrugged. She looked back down at her menu, feeling unease.

"I can recommend the lasagne." She scanned down and found it.

"I didn't pick you as someone who liked vegetarian food," she reflected behind her protective shield as she read the description.

"Not just any vegetarian food. But, yes, I do have a taste for it." Hermione was rather surprised by his admission, especially since she had always preferred it. She remained silent, pretending that she was still perusing over the selection of dishes when a waiter walked over.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked. Hermione looked up and gasped when she saw who it was. His expression was also one of recognition.

"Hermione Granger?"

She nodded. "Hi, Damien," she greeted bashfully, noticing Malofy's heated interest in her periphery.

"Wow, you're looking well. What are you doing in Bath?" he asked enthusiastically, glancing at Malfoy questioningly.

"Day trip," she shrugged, knowing full well that muggle Damien would find it odd if she said she had just popped in for her lunch break. She recalled her mother mentioning that he owned his own business.

"Is this your restaurant then?" she asked, aware of her prying mind and couldn't help but feel like she was imitating her mother. He smiled.

"Yeah, I bought the business six months ago. It's keeping me busy," he chuffed. He looked over at Malfoy again. "I've seen you come in a few times," he said, "Do you live nearby?"

Malfoy straightened up, almost defensively. "No, but I have family here. You've got a good thing going here," he complimented. Hermione was in a state of disbelief. She was trying to remember Maryann's daughter's name so she could ask Damien about his fiancée, but it was to no avail. The last time she had seen her was at her mother's Christmas Eve dinner. She settled for the next best thing.

"Congratulations, by the way," she offered. "Mum told me about your upcoming nuptials."

He beamed. "Thanks, Hermione. It feels kind of weird. I mean, I never thought I would be getting married at twenty-six." Hermione smiled appreciatively.

"Are you both living in Bath?"

"No. We haven't decided whether we want to relocate. Sara's career is in London so we might just spend weekends here. I'm up here half the week anyway; my business partner runs it when I'm not here."

"That's okay then." She shot a glance at Malfoy who was staring at her inscrutably. She felt obliged to introduce him, but she had now idea how. "Damien, this is Dr- Draco Malfoy. He owns a company -" she frowned momentarily, realising that he really owned multiple companies, "-well, his company is currently involved in a project with my employer, which I am heading," she introduced. Malfoy was sporting a rather dignified smirk on his face but surprisingly lifted his hand to shake Damien's eager gesture.

"Hey, we have the same initials. I'm Damien Merriton," he joked. Hermione inwardly cringed at how Malfoy would respond.

"I'm sure that's not the only thing we have in common," he looked over at Hermione as he said it. She was astounded by his ability to read body language and instantly tensed. Damien laughed nervously.

"Yes, well. I guess you have an interest in organic produce?" he deflected. Hermione was experiencing a cringe worthy moment.

"Yes, quite an interest. Especially eating it." Hermione couldn't help herself laugh, but quickly quashed her unexpected response at Malfoy's raised eyebrow of amusement.

"So, what will it be today?"

"I'll have the lasagne," Malfoy provided. Damien looked over at Hermione expectantly, his eyes scanning over her. She closed the menu that was still in her hand.

"I think I'll try the lasagne too. I've heard good things about it."

"Great, you won't be disappointed. I've got some great wine you should try."

"Oh no, I can't drink," Hermione blurted. Damien and Malfoy both stared at her with curiosity; Malfoy's expression was much more telling.

"Why not, Hermione, it not like you have to drive," Malfoy stirred. She shot him a subtle glare but realised she had just been compromised.

"Oh, okay, I'll have a glass, if you insist."

"I certainly do, especially since I know you like your wine." Damien smiled. Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'll be back shortly."

"I thought you were more into champagne, Granger? But wine certainly does fare much better." He was becoming predictable.

"Great, Malfoy." She sighed aloud, eliciting a chuckled from the man opposite her who was looking extremely pleased with himself.

"You are so predictable, Granger." He shook his head as he continued to chuckle silently. Her jaw slackened at this comment and her eyes narrowed in reflection as she sat quietly, affected by the fact that his perception mimicked her own. She turned her body to side, so she was not facing him.

"Do you always get so wound up whenever anyone mentions you and alcohol in one sentence? Or, is it just around me? It really is amusing."

"Well, I find it rather disconcerting that the few times I have enjoyed a little too much drink, or a drink at an inappropriate time, you have always been present. So, forgive me for feeling slightly uncomfortable," she retorted tersely, shooting him a quick glare before turning her head and diverting her attention to the couple seated at the bar. They were really into each other; it was hard not to look.

She spotted Damien walking back over with a whole bottle of wine. She groaned inwardly at his hospitality. Why did he have to offer wine, of all things?

Hermione had first met Damien on a grape grazing tour her mother had forced her to go on with Maryann's daughter a few years back. They had hit it off straight away, and had seen each other a few times after that in the spirit of holiday mode. She had certainly been surprised when she saw him on Maryann's daughter's arm a year later. She frowned at the fact that she was referring to her as Maryann's daughter when she had just been reminded of her name. Perhaps it was a sign of jealousy. She did remember Sara commenting on his looks when they first met him. Hermione reflected on the strangeness of how one comment in time could signal the future, forgetting that Malfoy was sitting opposite her. She smiled at Damien as he approached their table.

"You will love this, Hermione. Remember that winery tour?" She nodded. "Well I have contracted with them to supply me my house red. It's really popular with the patrons and the review on our sommelier, whose on leave today, was a definite boost for the restaurant."

"Sounds great," Hermione replied as Damien poured them each a glass and set the bottle on the table. "Enjoy. I'd love to stay and chat but it's pretty busy this time of day." Hermione was relieved to say the least and simply smiled back as she finally looked at Malfoy.

She could see that he was amused by the fact that Damien always directed his conversation to her, ignoring the presence of the infamous pureblood. It was rather ironic. He picked up his glass, swirling the contents and taking a sniff, like the perfect wine connoisseur. Funnily enough, she had not expected any less.

"What should we toast to, Granger? I can think of a few things," he grinned, glancing over at Damien.

"Let's just toast to a positive launch of the first issue of the magazine," she offered.

"A wise suggestion. To Understanding Muggles, then," he said. Hermione detected an obvious undercurrent of implied meaning to his statement and rolled her eyes before obliging his toast. It was ridiculous, to say the least. She took a sip of the wine; it brought back memories of the wine tour, before setting it down on the table.

"Your muggle friend is right; it is a great wine. It's too good for a house red." Malfoy finally spoke out after a long silence, as if he had been deliberating. "Where exactly is this winery?" he asked with obvious curiosity.

"Italy." Hermione saw his eyes light up with mischief. He smiled back at her knowingly.

"Why do I get the feeling you know which one it is?" Hermione replied.

"Let's just say I have a fair idea," he divulged.

"Please don't tell me you own it Malfoy."

"No, Granger, I don't own it. But, I've know the owner all my life." Hermione raised an eyebrow questioningly, frustrated by his minimal responses. He raised the glass to his lips and took another sip, a satisfied smirk appearing on his face.

A waiter came over with their meals, interrupting the progress of their conversation. Hermione was overwhelmed by the inviting aromas of the plate before her.

"It tastes better that it smells," Malfoy pointed. Eagerly, Hermione dug into her food, savouring the flavours with each bite. They ate in silence, only disturbed by the sound of their cutlery moving against their plates. It really was a sight to behold – Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, enjoying a peaceful lunch, both eating the same dish and drinking wine, in a muggle restaurant, in Bath. About halfway through their meal, they both picked up their wine, their eyes catching each other as they simultaneously drew back to pour some of the red liquid into their mouth. His penetrating stare made her smile nervously, lifting her hand to wipe away the little bit of wine that had escaped her glass as she had taken a rather generous sip.

"So what do you think?" he asked in a low voice.

"It's really good, everything is really nice," she responded vaguely.

"Everything?" She looked over at Malfoy. She had not yet noticed his lack of full business attire with his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his hair looking unusually dishevelled. She felt strangely comfortable sitting and eating with him, despite the initial anxiety. Perhaps it was the fact that they were not in London? She felt guilty for giving off the impression that she did not want to be seen with him in public. It was purely out of fear. She was about to admit her thoughts when Damien wandered back over to check on them.

"How are you enjoying the food and wine?"

"It's great Damien, I will be recommending it to friends," Hermione replied, slightly relieved at the timed interruption. Malfoy continued to eat.

"Thanks, Hermione. That really means a lot. Are you heading back to London today?"

"Uhm, yes, we will be taking the train back this afternoon. We were just here on a research project." She was lying through her teeth and noticed Damien's disappointment.

"Oh, well, it was really great to see you, Hermione. I hope to see you at the wedding." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Nice to meet you Draco, we'll have a drink when you're next here." Malfoy nodded, extending his hand to Damien. Hermione still found their interaction extremely strange.

"He's a good guy, for a muggle," Malfoy spoke out, setting his knife and fork down, his plate empty of its contents.

"For a muggle? What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing! I am just inferring that I like the guy. Most muggles I deal with are through business, so it's not like I know them on a social level. Granger, don't be so presumptuous. I'm the one who recommended the place for lunch, knowing full well it was run by muggles," he retorted, irritated. Hermione felt a wave of guilt overcome her

"So, then why is there a public fireplace in the courtyard?"

"They host plays out there, so I guess the Ministry thought it was easily concealed to be part of a permanent set." She found it almost endearing how he went from being fractious to civil. Hermione glanced at her watch, it was well past the hour scheduled and they had barley brushed over any business issues.

"I think I should be heading back," Hermione reflected.

"What? You haven't even finished you food or glass of wine!"

"I can't eat much more, I become tired when I'm full," she admitted.

"That's ridiculous. Well, if you're no going to finish it, mind if I do?" Hermione was speechless. Malfoy wanted to eat her half-finished food. She shrugged, not knowing how else to react to this turn of events. He grabbed her plate and set it down over his, swiftly picking up his fork and digging in to the remainder of her lasagne. Hermione was rather flabbergasted by the intimate setting of their lunch meeting. Business associates did not finish each other's food. In her state, Hermione busied herself with her remaining wine, shooting Malfoy glances of disbelief as he polished her plate as well. He really had an appetite.

"Granger, I could say something crass but we are at the table, in a restaurant, so I'll hold of on this occasion. But don't look so surprised. I really like the food here." Hermione's imagination led her to the right train of his thoughts and she scowled in recollection. Not because she was disgusted by his implied reference, but because she wouldn't mind if it happened again. She glanced down at her empty glass, mentally berating herself for drinking.

"Well, Granger. This was quite the business lunch, but I actually need to report something back to the directors so what shall we agree on?" He looked over at her expectantly; Hermione was lost in a reverie of lustful, wishful desires. She heard nothing.

"Granger?"

"Hermione?" She instantly snapped out of it at the resonating sound of her name. She blinked and looked at him.

"Hmmm?" He smirked.

"I was just saying Granger, that I need to report something back, so, what is the status on the first issue?" he stressed.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled. "Well, final mock up has been signed off by the Minister, he is happy with the layout and choice of adverts and articles. It's going off to print on Monday, I'm just going to read through it over the weekend and sign off on the printing approval. Did you want to take a look?"

"No, I trust your judgement. I expect a couple copies, and any concerns I have we can fix up in the next issue. Right, well that was easy enough. Shall we?" Hermione nodded apprehensively. Malfoy withdrew his wallet from his pocket and opened it, placing a fifty pound note on the table. It was very strange seeing Malfoy with muggle currency. It felt like they were two simple muggles enjoying a lunch, no history of blood status, or magic behind them. She stood up and walked to the exit, with Malfoy following behind.

They stepped out into the courtyard; she almost slipped as her heel caught in the grooves between the cobbled stone ground as Malfoy grabbed her arm to hold her upright.

"Thanks," she muttered, sensing his proximity and the thrilling sensations his grip on her stirred. She composed herself and looked up at him. He was mildly amused, and glanced down at her shoes with interest, but remained silent for a few moments.

"Tell me, Granger, why do you insist on avoiding me and maintaining formalities in London, when you were perfectly at ease to lunch alone with me in Bath?"

He was still holding her arm, albeit more gently, and had averted his attention back to her eyes.

She felt obligated to answer. "Malfoy, I am trying to make sense of what happened between us, and I just can't. This whole situation or whatever we have going on makes no sense. You still rile me to no end, yet at the same time, we slept together. You tell me what I should think?" she sighed with relief that she had spoken her mind.

"I don't know what you should think. I have no answers, because I feel exactly the same," he admitted, his tone level and sincere.

"So…what now?" she asked hesitantly.

"I really don't know," he shrugged, leaning forward. Hermione stood still, her eyes on his lips only inches from hers. It was the middle of the day, exactly one week from the event, and she could feel herself losing control again.

"My place or yours?" she whispered. He pulled back, completely slack jawed at her initiation before sending her a mischievous look. In the next moment she could feel the familiar pull marking the state of apparition.


A/N: Well, at least they have acknowledged their attraction. LOL!