January 2011

The snow-covered gravel crunched under foot as Hermione strode down the footpath to Draco's front door. Shifting the box she was carrying onto her hip awkwardly, she reached up for the heavy brass knocker as the door opened. Looking down, her eyes met the angry frown of Draco's house elf.

"Master Draco is not liking guests who do not owl first," he informed her curtly.

"Yes, I remember, sorry," Hermione apologised, looking up as Draco strode out from his study.

"It's alright, Herb. Miss Granger is welcome here any time," Draco informed the elf kindly.

"Yes Master Draco," Herb replied with a deep bow before trotting away, muttering under his breath.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she watched the elf disappear.

"Don't mind him," chuckled Draco. "What's that you have there?" he gestured to the box she had almost forgotten she was carrying as they made their way into his study.

"Oh, um, it's some files from the Ministry," she replied, flushing slightly. "It's what I thought you could help with. That is if you still want to.." her words trailed off as she set the box down on his desk, nervously pushing her hair back behind her ears.

Draco smiled as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Hermione glanced at his hand as her heart started to beat faster, the unexpected warmth of his hand spreading as he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze.

"Of course I still want to help," he told her.

Hermione nodded, reaching into the box and pulling out the files. "Some of these have not been touched in fifty years," she informed him as he sat down, opening the first file. "I have been trying to find a way to help Stefan in particular," she turned to him and Draco looked up from the file, their eyes meeting. "I recall that you are particularly gifted at potions."

Draco chuckled. "Well with Snape as my godfather, it would be hard not to be," he replied before frowning. "But if his condition has been known for some time," he paused as he reached for one of the oldest files, the report inside stamped by the Ministry for Magic, Cairo. "Surely every avenue has been explored?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. All my research suggests that people were too frightened to do anything for these children," she replied, her sad tone laced with bitterness. "They feared them so they stayed away and did nothing to help," she sighed.

Beside her, Draco nodded his understanding as he began to read.

Hermione sat patiently while Draco read the summary of her research, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I think this is definitely something I could help with," he told her. Hermione sighed with relief. "But this is complex dark magic, older than anything I have ever experienced." She caught the way he unconsciously rubbed his left arm, but said nothing. He glanced up at his bookcase, his frown deepening. Hermione watched, enthralled by his focused energy as he strode over, pulling several volumes down and sending them over to the desk in front of her.

"These were Father's," he commented, causing Hermione to still her hand, uncertain whether she should open them. "They are perfectly safe," he reassured her, sensing her unease. "After the war," he paused, swallowing hard, "I went through every book, every item, and if I couldn't make it safe I got rid of it." Hermione watched him shudder slightly. "I know it doesn't make up for what happened, but I want no part in any of it happening again," he told her, his voice low but sincere. She reached out for his hand, as he sat back down and reached for one of the books, silently giving it a squeeze. He returned the gesture, lacing his fingers in hers. Hermione thought she should find the action strange, but she didn't and the realisation of that made it hard for her to concentrate on what he was saying as he opened the book.

"I don't think you would have come across this," he told her, turning the open book for her to see, pushing it across the desk.

Hermione shook her head. As she read, Draco spoke.

"I would need to spend some time with Stefan to know where to start."

Hermione looked up, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded. "Of course."

Susan pressed her lips together tight, trying to suppress the laughter that welled up inside her, sprinkling tea leaves into the teapot.

"What?" Hermione hissed.

Susan swallowed back her laugh, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Nothing," she replied airily, glancing sidelong at Hermione who was narrowing her eyes at her.

Susan turned around leaning on the counter. "So this isn't a date either then?"

"Of course it's not a date," Hermione retorted. "He's just coming here for dinner."

Susan nodded, her smile giving away her disbelief. "If you say so."

"You are ridiculous. He is coming here for dinner to get to know Stefan!" Hermione huffed as she handed Susan her favourite cup.

"I see," Susan replied, stifling a giggle & causing Hermione to scowl. "So if it's not a date, explain the hand holding."

Hermione flushed a deep shade of crimson. "I don't… I can't explain that."

"It's a date."

"No, it's not!"

Susan handed Hermione her tea. "Oh, drink this and calm down, I am only teasing," she smiled as they sat down at the kitchen table.

"Seriously though, it sounds very much like he wants to spend time with you as much as he wants to get to know Stefan."

Hermione waved dismissively as she reached for The Prophet, opening the paper to the daily puzzles. "No, he just needs to get to know Stefan so that he understands the dark energy a bit better. Then he would be better able to help."

Susan regarded Hermione over the edge of her tea cup as she sipped. Placing the cup back on the saucer she sat back, observing the curly haired witch carefully. Dragging her teeth over the plump flesh of her bottom lip she took a moment to consider whether she should ask the question that had been burning in her for some time.

"Hermione?" she began, pausing as Hermione looked up from the paper. "Can I ask you a question?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course."

"Why are you so quick to dismiss the way Draco clearly feels about you?" Susan asked, holding Hermione's gaze.

"I don't know what you mean," she answered, a little too quickly.

Susan noted the way Hermione's neck flushed. "Draco clearly has feelings for you. You forget that before you confronted him - which wasn't the best move, however it turned out - he had invited you out for coffee…."

"As friends!" Hermione cried, cutting Susan off.

Susan tilted her head. "Really?" she asked as Hermione broke the eye contact that was starting to feel overwhelmingly intense.

Neither woman spoke for several minutes. Finally Susan took up her tea cup, pausing just before her lips. "Okay, answer me this then: Are you telling me you are not in the slightest bit attracted to Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione's flush deepened. "I don't see...what that… has to do with anything…" she spluttered, nervously.

"Everything: It has everything to do with it, because Draco is definitely attracted to you," Susan replied before finishing her tea. "Just something to think about," she shrugged as she got up from the kitchen table.

Hermione sat at a loss for words as Susan gave a little flick of her wand, scourgifying her teacup and sending it to the cupboard before leaving the kitchen - and Hermione to her thoughts.

After dinner, Draco went through to the lounge while Hermione started washing the dishes the muggle way.

"I know what you're doing," Susan whispered as she nudged her playfully with her hip, picking up a tea towel.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Hermione replied haughtily, pushing her nose up in the air for added effect.

Susan hummed her mocking retort, raising her eyebrows as she nodded. "Keep telling yourself that, girl," she smiled.

Finishing the dishes, she filled the kettle ready to set it to boil. As she set it on the stove she heard Draco call out somewhat frustratedly.

"Hermione, would you get in here please?"

Sharing a worried look with Susan, Hermione rushed into the lounge, her face contorting with confusion as she took in the sight of Stefan's wide grin and Draco almost literally tearing his hair out.

"What in the name of Merlin…" she whispered.

Draco turned to face Hermione, his jacket now off, sleeves rolled up to show his tattooed forearms, his tie loosened. Hermione's eyes fell on his arms, distracting her momentarily as she realised two notions simultaneously: she couldn't see his dark mark and she didn't know he had tattoos. For a moment she was entranced by the way the magic in the ink made them shimmer and move with his emotions. Hermione shook her head slightly, her thoughts returning to the situation at hand.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked, seeing no obvious reason for his apparent distress.

"I need your help," he told her, his voice thick with sincerity.

Hermione furrowed her brows.

"I cannot lose to the kid," Draco continued as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh Merlin, you are as bad as Blaise!" she snapped, her hands going to her hips in a pose that reminded Draco of the formidable women he had known in his life: his mother, his aunt, and, odd as the thought seemed to Draco, Molly Weasley.

"And 'the kid' has a name: Stefan. Stefan happens to be very good at Wizard's Chess!" she cried before turning on her heel and returning to the kitchen.

"I don't know what you are sniggering about," she hissed as she attempted to ignore the grinning Susan, who was now pulling tea down from the cupboard.

"Nothing," Susan replied, trying not to laugh. "Nothing at all." She stole a sidelong glance at Hermione. "Just that you sound like a married couple already."

"That's enough!" Hermione snapped, slamming a teaspoon down on the counter. "There is nothing going on between me and Draco…." her words trailed off as she turned to see Draco standing in the doorway, his face betraying for a split second a level of disappointment that made Hermione's heart ache.

"Stefan won. Checked me in three moves, two more for checkmate. He really is good. I should go," he told her, his words unusually disjointed as he put his jacket on and made his way over to the floo.

"Draco, wait…" Hermione began, her words cut off by the roar of the floo.

Hermione threw Susan a look before following him, tumbling out in Draco's study as he poured himself a firewhiskey.

"Draco…" Hermione began, her voice quiet as she steadied herself. Looking up, Draco glared at her reflection in the mirror as he screwed the cap back on the firewhiskey.

Nervously Hermione brushed a loose curl back behind her ear and Draco cursed himself for finding the action endearing.

"Listen, Granger," he began, his tone clipped. "It's fine. I now know where the boundaries of our working relationship are; I was hitherto unaware that you resented my presence…."

"Resented?" Hermione cut him off, astonished. "Resented?" she repeated, the word feeling alien as it rolled from her mouth.

"Yes, resented.." he began curtly, standing ramrod straight as he continued to regard her reflection, his back remaining turned resolutely towards her.

"How can you think that?" Hermione whispered, stepping towards him.

Draco curled his lip as he scoffed. "I heard it in your tone," he replied before taking a sip of his drink.

Hermione's jaw hung open as Draco finally turned around to face her.

"I was rather under the impression that we were enjoying one another's company; that there was more to this," he gestured with his glass to the space between them, "that it was more than simply business." Draco laughed mockingly. "But then you did cancel our date."

Hermione's brow furrowed deeper. "What date?"

"Coffee. The day you showed up here. Unannounced. With your little announcement regarding your knowledge of my confidential avow." He watched realisation dawn on her face.

"That was a date?" she whispered, eyebrows raising so high he thought they almost disappeared.

"Well usually when one person is attracted to another and they invite said person out for coffee, it is a date," he replied sarcastically.

"You're attracted to me?"

"Well done for underlining the obvious," Draco scoffed, his hands clapping together in mocking applause.

"You're an arse, Malfoy."

"And how, pray tell, do you work that out?" he asked, his mocking face contorting to a scowl his father would have been proud of, the accompanying flush less so.

"I do not resent you and I was unaware of how you felt. You could have been more open with me…"

"What, are we fourteen now? Am I supposed to slip you a note in the library and ask you to the ball?" he scoffed.

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush as she recalled the way Viktor Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball under the ever watchful glare of Draco Malfoy, who had been too stunned by the Quidditch Star's actions to mock them at the time.

"No! Try being a grown up. Try telling people how you feel. Try honesty. Try openness. Try being less of an arrogant arse and having an actual conversation," she cried before turning on her heel and disappearing back to the cottage.

Draco sighed, his hand carding through his blond locks as he made his way over to the desk, pulling parchment and a quill towards himself. Setting his tumbler down he penned a note before calling for his owl.

"Here," he instructed the owl. "Take this to the stubborn witch and do not leave without a reply."