My lovelies! I am so sorry about the delay. I had my birthday this weekend (not a shameless plug for 'happy birthday' reviews, just an explanation of why this delay won't be a regular thing).
Thank you to those who reached out when there was no chapter by the end of the weekend! I am fine, and I appreciate your support. Also, I chose to work on writing and posting instead of responding to every review this week, as I assumed you'd prefer a chapter. Ha. I'll catch up.
As a reward, this chapter contains something a lot of you have been asking for... You'll see.
He had bruised her. Marked her.
Hermione stared at the love bite on her neck, her hand pulling her hair back.
Claimed her.
She let her hair fall. She considered not covering it, remembering that he hadn't covered the marks she had left on him, but it still didn't make sense to her why he'd left them.
Then she thought of what people in the office might think if they saw. What Blaise might say…
She covered the love bite with a charm, and then even further with makeup.
She stood in the elevator up to M.C.G. on Wednesday morning, running through her head all the reasons she had tried to quit yesterday.
Her projects were getting shot down.
She wasn't getting the support she needed to pursue her ideas.
She was bored with the current project she was working on, and it was the only project she was allowed to work on.
Her boss was ignoring her and treating her like a nuisance.
Her boss was using her as a means for publicity.
She had a volatile relationship with her boss that had an unpredictability that had started to give her stomachaches.
She decided to leave out any sexual harassment claims from this list, due in part to the fact that she would hate to sound like a hypocrite. He kissed her first. Then she kissed him second.
She shook these thoughts from her mind before it could ask Who would kiss third?
The lift doors opened. She raised her eyes from the floor, steeling her expression, and her gaze landed on Draco, standing at the reception desk.
Her stomach twisted.
She watched his eyes lift to hers from the paperwork he was reading. He nodded in greeting and took a deep breath, calming. She wouldn't have noticed it a week ago, but she felt like she'd been synchronized with his breathing now, the way his exhale pushed into her mouth on her inhale –
She stepped out of the lift, not knowing what her face was doing, and turned right to walk to her office. He fell into step with her.
"Morning," he said.
She looked up at him and found a hand extending a coffee cup to her. She blinked at it. It was a to-go cup, with the name of a coffee shop around the corner.
"Mr. Townsend wants to come in to go over paperwork tomorrow. Finalize things."
She took the coffee cup from him, forgetting manners entirely and saying nothing in thanks. "Okay."
"Is just before lunch alright?"
"Yes." She stared at the cup in her hands. He could have checked her schedule with Walter.
They reached her door.
"I have some ideas for the remainder of the fundraising that we can go over when convenient for you."
She looked up at him. His face was still, eyes grey and neutral, but he wasn't cold like before.
"Excellent," she said.
They stood there for a moment, in front of her office door, staring at each other, before he nodded and turned to walk back to his office. She might have been mistaken, but she could almost see his eyes slide over her neck before he turned away. She brought her free hand to her bruise, and her coffee to her lips as she watched him walk away. Perfect ratio of sweetener to cream.
Which "before" did he mean, when he said they'd go back to before?
Not an hour later, once Hermione was settled and finally invested in her work, did he come again.
"Granger."
She jumped at his voice and double-jumped when she looked up to see him in her doorway.
"Yes?"
"Are you free?"
She blinked at him. "Yes?"
He entered her office and her heart stopped when he started closing the door… but then he left it cracked, a sliver of the rest of the office visible.
Oh, thank god.
"Alright," he said, walking to her desk, pushing his hair back. He tossed something – some paperwork – on her desk and took one of her guest chairs. "Let's go over this."
Hermione had the horrifying thought that the portfolio he'd just tossed on her desk contained the Love Contract or the Conflict of Interest or any number of unpleasant things.
He scooted his chair forward, and opened the portfolio.
"The Snidget Sanctuary," he said, running his eyes over the paper. "Have they provided actual numbers of decline, or just estimations?"
He looked up at her, and blinked quickly, like he was clearing his vision.
She took a moment to figure out what exactly was happening before she cleared her throat and responded, "Those are estimations based on last year's decline."
"So, the first thing would be to send our people out to get actual numbers, based on this year, and also, projected decline for the next year." He looked down at the paperwork, and Hermione finally put two-and-two together. It was her Snidget proposal, with notes scratched all over it.
He'd reviewed it.
"Your revised timeline and projected budget is much more workable than your first, but to cut costs dramatically, I'd like to send only Walter out to Somerset." He looked up at her to gauge her reaction.
She could feel herself about to pout –
"He could go out as early as next week," Draco said. "But if you go with him, you'll start to miss several important dates and deadlines for the Werewolf Policy."
Hermione clicked her jaw shut. This is what compromise was, Hermione…
She didn't like it one bit.
"Yes," she said. "If we can start as early as next week, then that would be wonderful."
He nodded at her. "I still think setting the court date in March is too ambitious." She pursed her lips. "I anticipate that the Wizengamot will be quite fed up with us by the end of the Werewolf Policy proceedings, and to jump on them with another project not weeks after our first might cause some backlash."
"But they should be impartial," Hermione said, frowning. "They should look at each case as separate entities."
Draco raised a brow at her. "They should…" His but they don't didn't need to be said.
He shifted in his seat, trying to cross his legs unsuccessfully. He looked down at the chair.
"I'll need to get you better chairs. These are awful." She watched him move to a different position.
"I like these chairs."
"You must hate your guests, then."
"I don't have guests, really," she said. "The only person who sits there is Blaise."
"Oh, then we'll leave them." He grinned up at her.
She met his eyes, warmer than usual. She was unsure what it was they were doing. Her lips twitched at his joke, but she didn't understand where this part of him was coming from.
She decided to move the conversation back to the Snidgets. "So, we'll plan on April for a court date?"
Draco nodded. They moved on to discuss her fundraising goals.
"I think it would help to get the Golden Snidgets case into the public view," Draco said. "Not a lot of people know their history, or their relation to Quidditch. We could get more eyes on their case with some assistance from the handful of Quidditch players we know." He looked at her carefully.
She raised her brow, pondering the idea, and suddenly said, "Oh! I wonder if I could get in contact with Viktor!"
Her brain started forming around this plan, thinking of how interesting it could be to have a Quidditch spokesperson, someone to interview. She looked up to Draco and found his lips tight.
"I was referring to the Weasleys, but, yes," Draco said, rubbing his jaw, "Krum could be useful, too."
Oh, of course, Ron and Ginny. She hadn't really spoken to Ron since he wrote her that nasty note a few weeks back.
"What is it you're thinking?" she asked.
"I think going public with the project might help," Draco said. "Get Skeeter to do a write-up. Even see if Lovegood's paper would be interested."
Hermione nodded. This was wonderful. "You know who else was really quite interested in the Snidgets? Rolf Scamander," she said. "He would probably love to bring attention to this as well."
She looked up at him with wide, excited eyes, and saw him still, clench his jaw, then release it.
"Wonderful." He stood. "Go ahead and make some initial contact, and make arrangements for Walter to head out next week." He grabbed up his notes and headed to her door.
"Thank you, Draco." She bit her lip as soon as it left her mouth.
He turned to her, nodded, and left.
Later in the day, Walter brought in her mail. He continued to separate the personal letters from the business ones, trying not to read through the personal ones once he was able to distinguish between the two. He gave her an interoffice memo that let everyone know that the Governors of Hogwarts were hosting a Valentine's Day Ball that Saturday night, and all of M.C.G. had been invited. She rolled her eyes at it, despising the celebration of Valentine's Day just as much as the actual day. Harry would be out of town this weekend visiting Ginny at her match in Canada, so she couldn't count on either of them to go with her to this thing.
She started flipping through the fan mail and personal letters first, and landed on a beautiful burnt orange envelope with loopy scrawl across the front.
Miss Hermione Granger
Hermione frowned at it. She flipped it open and her eyes grew wider and wider.
My dearest Hermione!
I am just finally back in the U.K. from the holidays, and I would love to take you to lunch! I need to congratulate you on all your success with Malfoy Consulting Group!
I've been dying to pick your brain on a charity I'm beginning back home. Please let me know if you are free at the end of this week!
Love to you,
Katya
Hermione dropped the letter on her desk, and ran her hands over her face.
Are you fucking serious.
Thursday evening, Hermione's dance class took a surprising turn. A familiar tune played out of the gramophone, and Miss Truesdale announced that they would be working on the French Waltz that evening.
The French Waltz, coincidentally, was the only pure-blood dance Hermione knew. It was the one she'd learned for the Yule Ball, memorized and practiced – desperate to not embarrass herself on Viktor Krum's arm. The one in which she'd momentarily spun around Draco, hands not touching, and therefore, the one she had ingrained in her head for the past five years.
Not that she told Miss Truesdale this. She simply nodded her head as she was shown the formation, and how to count a waltz, and how to stay on the balls of her feet. She turned the wrong way few times just for show, but by the end of the lesson, Miss Truesdale had a small look of satisfaction lifting her features.
That night, she let herself into her flat, feeling like there was nothing she'd rather do than just lay down, read, and fall asleep.
Harry stood from the couch as she entered.
"Oh, hello."
"Hey, Hermione." He rubbed his palms on his trousers.
"I thought Ginny was in Canada?"
"She is," he said, scratching his ear. "I let myself in."
"Oh." She set her purse down, and kicked off her heels. "What's wrong?"
"Er, nothing's wrong." Harry pushed his glasses up and started to twist his fingers around themselves. "Can we sit?"
Hermione stared at him. What had she done? Was this about Draco? Was he finally telling her his opinions? Was someone hurt? Had something awful happened?
She sat at the dining room table, legs feeling quite wobbly. Harry sat across from her. He took a deep breath, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth.
"I'm going to ask Ginny to marry me."
Hermione felt her brows lift, but that was the only part of her moving. She couldn't feel her heart beating, or her lungs expanding. She stared at him.
Smile. You were supposed to smile when this happened.
Hermione smiled. She giggled. "Harry!"
Harry's worried face evaporated and he grinned at her.
"When!?"
"Monday," he said. "Valentine's Day."
She brought her hands to her mouth. "Why were you so nervous to tell me?"
"I dunno," Harry laughed. He rubbed his eyes. "You're the last person on my list – besides Ginny, of course – and I'm just so relieved that it's half done now."
The last person…
"Who else?"
He looked down at the table. "I went to see Arthur this week. And last weekend, I went to Ireland."
To see Ron. Hermione nodded. He went to a different country before seeing her. Then she remembered the awkward and horrifying lunch date they'd had last week, when he'd walked in on her and Draco. He'd asked her to lunch that day. But unfortunately, Hermione had made it all about her.
She bit her cheek. "Which of those conversations was harder?" She laughed.
"Ron, surprisingly." Harry nodded his head. "He's well, by the way."
"Excellent."
"He's… Well, he's seeing someone." Harry looked up at her. Hermione swallowed.
"Yes, he told me at Christmas."
"Yeah," Harry said. He scratched his face. "I met her. She's really nice."
Hermione took a slow breath. "That's great."
Harry looked back at her. "Anyway, I'm glad you know about me and Ginny." Harry smiled.
Hermione nodded, smiling as brightly as she could. "Do you have the ring on you?"
Harry blushed and pulled the box out of his robes.
Hermione grinned and nodded and laughed and giggled and asked how he was going to do it, would he be romantic or spontaneous, how did Arthur react, what restaurant were they going to. She listened to him and the weight in her stomach became heavier and heavier.
Harry was getting married, Ron was dating a nice girl, and Hermione was playing grab-ass with Draco Malfoy once a week.
Friday morning, Hermione stared at her planned outfit for that day, and frowned. There was something slightly off about it. It was like the colors didn't go together, or maybe it was the hem of the skirt.
She thought about calling Pansy over to figure out what was wrong with her, but she was in Italy, designing a Debutant Ball dress for the daughter of the Italian Minister of Magic. It was a big deal for her, and Hermione didn't think "lunch date with Katya Viktor" qualified as an emergency.
Draco met her with coffee again, like he had on Thursday morning as well. It seemed like this was going to be a habit. He would take the fifteen seconds they had to pace to her office door to fill her in on anything pressing, any meetings they should take, and then leave her at her office, staring after him as he headed back to his own.
She escaped from the office at ten minutes to noon, and headed to the only wizarding café near the M.C.G. office. She'd never been there but Katya said it was "to die for."
Katya was early. Earlier than her, which was hard to do. She stood from the table with a bright smile and silky arms and enveloped Hermione in the friendliest hug she'd ever had from a stranger.
Well. It didn't seem Katya knew anything about Hermione's kisses with her on-again-off-again lover…
"My dearest!" Katya pulled back from the hug and gripped Hermione's upper arms. "You look splendid!" Katya's eyes ran over Pansy's outfit for today, and Hermione bit back some comment that Madame Michele would describe as "not taking a compliment."
Katya ran her fingers over the fabric on Hermione's shoulder. "Oh, I wish Pansy Parkinson would build for me! She is so talented!" Hermione almost laughed, remembering Pansy's distain for the Bulgarian girl. Katya continued, "And, of course, the clothes are nothing if the right witch is not in them!" Bright white teeth. And then Katya's hand was touching Hermione's face lovingly.
Hermione figured out a way to thank her and slither out of her grasp so they could sit, getting the attention off of her.
They chatted a bit about their holidays, ordered drinks from the sweet old witch who ran the place, and fixed their tea and coffee the way they liked it. Katya, she observed, used exactly the right amount of milk and the right number of sugar cubes, as suggested by Madame Michele. Her spoon did not clink the cup as she stirred. But then again, neither did Hermione's.
"Oh, I'm so glad we had the chance to catch up! I've been dying to sit down with you ever since we met – well, before that!"
Hermione was struck with the same thought she had when she'd seen Katya in the papers with Draco: She smiles too much.
"I'm also glad we got a chance to really meet each other," Hermione said. "Will you be in town more often?" Hermione couldn't stop herself as the next words poured out of her. "At least through Monday. Valentine's Day?"
"Oh, no!" Katya pouted. "I leave for Bulgaria tomorrow. I won't be back until March at the earliest."
"Oh," Hermione said. She raised her brows as innocently as possible. "I would have thought you'd be spending Valentine's Day with Draco."
Why, Hermione. Why.
Katya waved a manicured hand, and said, "Oh, there was no need for that. We ended our arrangement a few months ago." Katya brought her teacup to her lips, hovering the saucer just below in a way Madame Michele would approve.
Hermione's eye twitched as she watched her. "Arrangement?"
"Yes, the dating thing." Katya set her cup and saucer down, taking a look around the shop.
Hermione stared at her. Perhaps there was a Bulgarian-to-English translation issue at work here?
"Do you mean you broke up?"
Katya looked at her. "Broke up?" She seemed just as confused as Hermione was. Then it was like a light went off in Katya's head. "Oh! How strange!" She laughed. Hermione thought this was no laughing matter. "I thought Draco would have told you, since you're so close."
Hermione waited, ignoring her own confusion about Draco and her being "close."
Katya continued, looking at Hermione with kind eyes. "Draco and I had a relationship for the papers. We weren't actually involved." She leaned back. "I'm surprised he never told you."
Hermione clenched her jaw. "As am I!" She bit out a laugh that sounded a little hysterical. "I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"He needed an exciting and desirable social life once he left Azkaban, to rehabilitate his image. So, we had an arrangement." Katya shrugged and flagged down the waiter.
They ordered and Hermione simmered. Once the waiter had left, Hermione turned to Katya. "I don't mean to be blunt, but didn't you feel used?"
"Oh, no," Katya said, smiling. "In fact, I think I got the better end of the bargain some days."
Hermione watched Katya. This woman who she had respected and hated and envied, and Hermione begged her to please explain.
Katya looked around, lowered her voice and said, "I have a fiancé in Bulgaria." She pointed to a ring that Hermione hadn't noticed. It was plain, yet lovely. "He's a Muggle."
Hermione's eyes snapped to her, waiting for the punchline.
"My father… He doesn't approve." Katya frowned at the table.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at her. "I'm sorry, I thought your mother was…. I had heard that you were half-blooded."
"She was Muggle-born. She was still a witch. My father sees a difference."
And like that, a vacuum had sucked all the confidence out of this girl at the mention of her father. Her posture slouched and she bit her lip. Katya looked up at Hermione and shook it off.
"I needed a pretense. While Andrei and I saved our money, I needed a reason for my father not to set me up with the Durmstrang graduates, or Undersecretary to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic." She rolled her eyes. "But now Andrei and I are eloping next month." She smiled.
"So… Andrei was alright with this arrangement?" Hermione tried to keep the judgment out of her voice. She tried. "You kissing another man for the papers?"
Katya laughed. "The first time was easy. But the second kiss, he did have a bit of a problem with." Hermione listened to her laugh bounce around the café as she remembered the image of Draco pushing Katya against the bricks, hands in her hair and on her hip. Katya's voice broke her out of it. "But Draco asked permission. He said he needed something more, just once."
"Why?" Hermione's voice was quiet. She knew the answer, but she desperately needed to hear it.
Katya batted her lashes as her, casting her eyes to the side quickly, then back to her. "For his father."
Hermione swallowed, hearing the words she had memorized…
Going on dates with that Bulgarian half-blood every time the two of you are pictured together in the paper.
Hermione felt ill. The waiter placed her salad down in front of her, and Katya began rambling about the charity she would be starting that year. Hermione kept to one word responses, not trusting her voice.
As they left each other, promising to keep in touch, Hermione turned and said, "Oh, Katya?"
The girl turned, hair moving in slow motion behind her.
"Did Draco ever give you a gift? A book, giftwrapped?"
Katya blinked at her. "No. I don't remember anything like that."
Hermione's blood boiled as she smiled at the Bulgarian girl. She waved a jaunty hand and spun on her heel, marching back to her office.
The lift doors opened, and Blaise was leaning at the reception desk, flirting with Melody. When Melody saw her exiting the lift, she straightened and her smile disappeared. Blaise turned to Hermione and said something, but she ignored him, headed to the back office on the left.
His door was ajar, so she didn't bother asking the secretary anything. She marched in, closing the door behind her.
He looked up at her, and she could see his eyes flicker towards the closed door. He swallowed.
"Yes, Granger?" He looked back down to his paperwork.
"I just had a very interesting date."
Draco's eyes snapped to her. He looked her over head to toe. "Oh?"
"With Katya."
He held her eyes. "Oh." He gave a tiny shrug. "Didn't know she was in town."
She fumed. She pulled her wand from her robes, and muttered, "Silencio."
"Don't—" Draco clenched his jaw. "Please don't silence the room."
"But I want to yell at you." She hissed.
"If I know the room is silenced and the door is shut, this will be harder for me," he bit out, color rising in his cheeks.
She almost lost her breath, but that shivering thread of rage in her won out. She returned the sound to the room, and took a breath.
"Where are the books?"
He stared at her. "Books?"
"The books—!" She stopped herself, and adjusted her volume. "The giftwrapped books."
He shifted in his chair. "If they were gifts, then I'm sure I gave them away—"
"Katya never received a book. She told me today." Hermione paced a bit. "I giftwrapped books for your girlfriend and now she's not your girlfriend and never was and she never received the books!" She lowered her voice. "I want to know what happened to them."
He studied her, lifting a brow. "You're truly upset about those books?"
"Yes!" She adjusted her volume. "I'm livid about the books," she hissed. She made up for volume by beginning to gesture wildly.
"Did I not purchase the books?"
"Yes, you did -"
"So after the transaction, was I not free to do with them whatever I please?"
She glared at him, watching him steeple his fingers, elbows on his desk.
"I spent valuable time and effort wrapping up those books for Katya, and now I hear that Katya never received those books. So, I want to know what the point was!" she whisper-yelled.
"I'm sorry," Draco began, with that touch of superiority that had her fuming, "I was under the impression that gift-wrapping at Cornerstone was a service provided to the customer." He smirked at her. "I wasn't aware one needed to declare the recipient upon requesting giftwrapping."
Her jaw dropped. Her eyes narrowed. "You know what, Malfoy?" she hissed. "Now that you mention it, giftwrapping is not a free service. It actually costs two sickles." She leaned her hands on his desk. "I had forgotten about it because no one else has ever been idiotic enough to ask for a book to be wrapped!"
Her volume had risen, so she took a slow breath while she glared at him. He remained in his chair, holding her eyes. Then he reached into her robes pocket, pulling out a pouch.
"Two sickles, you say?"
She gasped. "Don't you dare try to pay me."
"I'm not paying you, I'm paying Cornerstone."
"I don't want you to pay Cornerstone!"
"Then what do you want?!" His voice had finally soared above a normal volume. He threw his hands out to the sides and his cheeks were pink.
Hermione looked at him from the other side of his black marble desk, chest heaving, and for a moment, she wondered if this was why he hadn't moved from his desk yet. Usually at this point in the argument, he had her pressed against a wall…
She took a deep breath, taking one step back from his desk. "I want to know," she said, "what the point was."
She watched as he took an even inhale, and said, "It was a way to spend three extra minutes with you."
She met his eyes, heart thundering. The grey in them was warmer than usual. She took a slow breath.
"Anything else, Granger?" He blinked and his eyes were back to neutral. Not cold, but not warm.
Her cheeks were hot, and she looked down at his desk. "No. Yes, that's all." She kept her eyes down. "Yes, alright," she stammered and headed towards the door. She felt like there was something else she needed to yell at him for...
"See you tomorrow."
She stopped at the door. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lifted his eyes to hers. Neutral. "The Governors' Ball."
She blinked at him. "I wasn't… I'm not going."
He narrowed his eyes. "Did you not receive the memo?"
"I—" she started. "It was an offer, not a necessity!"
He tapped a knuckle on his desk. "As a Senior Consultant and one of the major forces behind Malfoy Consulting, you are expected to be there."
Oh yes, that's what else she wanted to yell at him for. She placed her hands on her hips.
"Don't you mean as the Golden Girl, I'm expected to be there?"
He looked at her. "Excuse me?"
She stepped toward him. "I was hired to be Senior Consultant over Non-Wizard Relations, not the face of Malfoy Consulting Group."
"What are you going on about, Granger-?"
"I know about Wentworth," she snapped. She lowered her voice, moving away from the door. "You used me to get Wentworth to sign on – and countless others, I'm sure! Told him I would be working with M.C.G. before the idea had even entered my head. I know you used my name and my reputation to enhance your own, just like you used Katya and I'm sick of it," she hissed.
"I might have said I was offering you the position," Draco said, raising a brow, "but I don't remember telling Wentworth you had signed on."
"But you didn't –!" She stopped and whispered, "But you didn't offer me the position. You toasted a champagne glass at me." She crossed her arms.
"Same thing." Draco waved his hand, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
She huffed.
"Listen, Malfoy. I'm happy to defend you to those that don't believe in you, or write letters of recommendation. I'm happy to stand up for this company and what it represents. And I'm happy to help you make a mark in this world, but don't you dare assume anything about me without asking."
She sucked in a breath. There. It was done. She looked at Draco, and he was pressing his lips together.
He stood from his chair and stepped toward her, a slow pace around the desk.
"The only thing I assumed about you, Granger, was how ridiculously undervalued you were at the Ministry." His eyes were hot again, and she stepped to the right, hands grasping for one of his guest chairs as he advanced. "I assumed the Ministry would destroy you like it destroys all dreamers. And I assumed that you could do better."
Steady breath. Stepping to the side of the guest chair, putting it between the two of them.
"You came to me with the werewolf project, knowing I couldn't resist-"
"I came to you with a project to lure you to me, yes. To make you see what you could be capable of. What we could be capable of." He stepped closer, stopping at the chair. "But I don't give a fuck about the werewolves."
She should snarl at him, berate him for being a hypocrite and single-minded.
Instead, she shivered.
He saw it, and his eyes flashed at her, like they used to.
"You... You shouldn't have told people I'd be heading up this branch without knowing for sure."
"I created this branch for you," he whispered, and she watched his eyes flicker over her while she tried to catch her breath. "There would be no Non-Wizard Relations branch of Malfoy Consulting without you. It was tailor made for you and only you. To give you exactly what you wanted."
His knees were touching the chair, and she gripped the back of it, holding it between them like a shield. Her lips were dry. She wet them and regretted it as his eyes slipped downwards.
"Next time," she whispered, "ask me if I want it."
Her words slipped through the space between them like mist. She watched him breath them in, and she was suddenly unsure what it was they were even talking about. But she watched him nod once, and she felt the air shift, like they had an understanding.
He sucked in a deep breath, and she watched the heat in his eyes dissipate. "I would like for you to come with me to the Governors' Ball." He swallowed. And she kept from biting her cheek at the phrasing of his request. He continued, "There are several people attending who will not only be great connections for Malfoy Consulting, but also for you personally."
It was her turn to swallow. "I- I have nothing to wear."
A small smile lifted his lips, and he took a step away from the chair. "I'm sure we can get Pansy to whip something up."
He crossed back to his desk, away from her. She still gripped the back of the chair.
"She's in Italy. She's -" Hermione took a deep breath, now that he was away from her. "She's on a project."
He stopped, remembering. He cursed under his breath. "You honestly have nothing at home?"
"I mean, if it was socially acceptable to wear the same dress I wore to New Year's…"
This was not the thing to bring up, clearly. She watched him turn to her, eyes hot. He quickly looked her over before looking away.
He cleared his throat. "Where did you get that dress?"
"It was... a small shop in Diagon Alley. I don't remember the name."
"Desrosiers?" he asked, crossing to his fireplace.
"I think so, yes." She watched him toss Floo powder into the fire and call out for "Desrosiers."
A thin woman with long grey hair popped her head through the fire, and her wrinkles pulled tight as she smiled brightly at Draco. She greeted him like an old friend, and suddenly, Draco was speaking French to her.
She'd never heard a more delectable sound.
Hermione gripped the back of the chair again. His voice dipped and flowed over the foreign words, and Hermione tried to catch on, but couldn't. He gestured to her, and scooted to the side.
"Mz Granger!" The woman gasped. "Yes, mademoiselle, I 'ave your measurements." She continued speaking French to Draco. He responded and then they were laughing about something. Hermione frowned.
They wrapped up, and the woman kissed the air. She disappeared. He stood from the fireplace.
"They'll send your dress directly to you by tomorrow afternoon. It's close enough to your New Year's dress without being too close."
He crossed back to his desk, and grabbed up his quill to write a note.
"Send me the bill," she said.
He chuckled. "Sure."
She narrowed her eyes at him, not entirely convinced. She watched him write, bent over his desk, hair falling into his eyes. He said nothing else to her, so she took her cue to leave.
She headed for the door, barely reaching it before he spoke out.
"What is different about your partnership with Pansy? She is riding on your coattails just as much."
She turned to him. "It's completely different."
He dotted an "i" and looked up at her. "How?"
"She … I'm getting something in return. It's helping her image as well as my own."
"So, you're not getting enough from our relationship, Granger?"
She had no idea how he managed to suck the air out of a room with only a few words and his eyes.
"That's not..." She looked away from him.
"I'll give you the Snidgets."
Her eyes snapped to him. He put his hands in his pockets. He continued, "Let's move up the court date."
"I don't... You're not..." She stammered as he watched her.
"Or the Muggle-Born Integration Project? It's approved," he said.
She blinked at him. She opened her mouth. And closed it.
He continued, "Or whatever pet project you want. It's yours. Fully supported."
Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She didn't know how she got him started on a negotiation. He started walking towards her, slowly. She wished she still had that chair...
"But you'll need to realize that it's not Draco Malfoy they'll want to see at these galas and fundraisers and dinner parties. It's Hermione Granger, activist, war hero, Golden Girl. You'll need to use that celebrity to get what you want."
He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. She breathed as evenly as she could.
She looked up at him through her lashes. "You may need to teach me how."
His jaw clicked. He took a deep breath, and she noticed his hands were still in his pockets, purposefully away from her. "We can start tomorrow night," he whispered.
She nodded.
He looked down, stepping back. "Your Bulgarian will be there tomorrow." He checked her reaction.
"Viktor?" She raised her brows. "At the Governors' Ball?"
"Mm-hm." Draco hummed. "You can talk to him about the Snidgets. Try to get his support."
She bit her lip, thinking. "Wonderful," she said, eyes dancing over the carpet.
"A few other people who I think you could get on your side for any of your causes," he said. "I can introduce you."
She looked up at him. "Okay."
His eyes ran over her face and he said, "See you at seven."
The dress arrived Saturday morning. A box she recognized from the last time Desrosier's delivered a dress to her. Hermione pulled off the top, and peeled back the tissue paper, anxious to find what kind of dress Draco had ordered for her.
Her breath left her in a puff as her fingers dragged over the silk.
It was gold.
.
.
.
A/N: A Valentine's Ball just in time for Valentine's Day? My, my :)