Yay! Here's chapter two! Thanks for the reviews, it got me to write more. More reviews would be nice after this too :).

I hope by not spacing the paragraphs this time will make this readable, kind of over typing right now (even though this is a short chapter.)

Disclaimers as seen in Chapter one :)

After much deliberation, Hermione decided on a lilac beret, deciding that it was appropriate due to the fact that she was meeting Draco at French café. Glancing out of the window, Hermione also noticed that the sun was out and it looked quite warm, so she pulled on a checkered, button-down shirt and faded denim shorts. She never bothered with make-up. She never had the time to during school, and frankly, she didn't see what the point was. In any case, she wasn't there to impress anyone. To finish off her look, she grabbed a small gold purse and went downstairs. After notifying her parents that she would be back later, she flagged down one of London's famous black cabs to town.

Draco was already waiting for her, seated at a table outside, looking as cool as ever. Despite the warm day, Draco was dressed in a black open-necked polo shirt and loose black pants. His white blond hair was slicked back, gleaming under London's sun. He stood as Hermione approached him, holding out the chair for her to sit on. Once he re-seated himself, he was smiling pleasantly.

"It's good to see you again, Ms Granger," Draco said amiably.

"Draco," Hermione responded with a shy smile. "You're allowed to call me Hermione, you know?"

Draco inclined his head, his eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. "It's only common courtesy."

Hermione hoped she wasn't blushing. "Not when you're having coffee with a friend," she pointed out.

Draco looked at her curiously, his smile widening. "Touché." They then ordered, an espresso for Draco, and a pot of chamomile tea for Hermione – her favorite. It wasn't long before real conversation took flight, and both parties remembered the pleasant, yet studious, day in the library.

"So why are you in London, Draco?"

Draco looked up at her, an eyebrow cocked. "I moved here rather recently."

"Why?" Hermione pushed, but then realised that perhaps Draco didn't want to talk about it.

Nevertheless, he spoke. "I needed space from home. It can get rather cloying there, especially after eighteen years. As I has no real plans after my graduation, I thought, why not London? It's a good option, in my opinion, and I can get a job easily whenever the money runs out."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "So university not much of a choice?" she asked before taking a sip of tea.

Draco schmoozed his lips. "Not really. Much as I was marginally good at academics, I don't really like it much." Then he smirked. "But then again, here I am, having an enjoyable afternoon with the best student of the year."

Hermione blushed, noting that Draco's intention was flattery. "That was just hard work, that's all that was."

"Modest too," Draco commented. He looked at his fingernails with interest. "I wouldn't say that if I got over ninety percent for seven out of eight subjects, in addition to numerous scholarships to many of the prestigious universities in Britain."

Hermione gasped, then narrowed her eyes. "How did you know this?"

Draco smiled surreptitiously. "Friends in high places."

Hermione surmised it could only be his father. Lucius Malfoy was one of the higher-ups in Britain's education system, and was privy to most information that had to do with it. Hermione was surprised that Draco didn't follow in his father's footsteps, but she had a feeling that there was no love lost between father and son. She was not much of a gossip, but she knew of Dr. Malfoy's temper, and rigidity, which served as the foundation of Britain's education system.

Time ran on without the couple's notice. More tea, coffee and munchies were ordered as the topic of conversation passed from theater, to poetry, to novels, to movies, to dress sense, to taste in music, to history, and before they knew it, it was seven o'clock, the sun still high in the sky. Hermione's stomach grumbled, signaling that dinner should be had soon. Draco laughed.

Hermione blushed. "I should go soon," she said in apologetic tones.

"No, no. Stay. We can have dinner here."

"But -"

"On me," Draco said calmly.

"I really couldn't -"

"Shut up, Hermione," Draco said, his tone unchanging.

Hermione smiled, noting that it was the first time that Draco had referred to her by her first name. It was understandable: they spent a lot more time in each other's company that afternoon than they ever did in their whole time at school together. Hermione was amazed at how similar they were. She wondered often what would've happened if they met earlier in life.

Draco ordered a good bottle of wine for the evening and recommended meal options to Hermione. It seemed that he like to come here often. Draco replied that he came here with his parents, and with his best friend, Blaise Zabini. The name sounded familiar to Hermione, but didn't know much else about the guy – then again, she and Draco had never mixed friend circles.

The laughter bubbled out of Hermione as the wine kept pouring into her glass. Dessert was long gone, as was the sun, but both were reluctant to leave; they were having too much fun. Draco thoughtfully looked at Hermione over the rim of his wine glass. Hermione, who was playing with the rim of her own glass, looked up. She was suddenly struck by the intensity of Draco's gaze.

"What?" she asked, her voice slightly husky.

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it. "Nothing," he said eventually. Hermione smiled shyly, absorbing the cold grey of Draco's eyes and realising her heart was beating faster than it should.

By this time, the owners like they wanted to close up, and Draco pointed with his chin towards the door. "We should go," he said softly, reluctant to break the moment between them.

"Let's," Hermione replied with an equally quiet voice.

Draco paid the bill, despite Hermione's weak protests to contribute in some manner. Draco only replied that her company was worth more than the bill. They also shared a cab home. Hermione didn't protest, even though she considered that Draco couldn't possibly live close to her. He walked her to her door in any case, Hermione giggling slightly, and Draco as cool as ever.

"Thanks for the wonderful evening," she said graciously.

"Take care of yourself, Ms. Granger." They looked at each other for a moment, a thought hanging between the two of them, unspoken, unmoving. Then, Draco turned to leave.

"And it's Hermione!" she called after him. Draco didn't even turn back. He just lifted a hand in response. Hermione smiled, shaking her head, and slipped inside.

The next morning, Hermione woke with a slight headache. Without giving it time to stew, she propped herself on her elbows, dug in her bedside table, and knocked back two painkillers. She slumped back into bed, the goose down pillows seemingly swallowing her up. She didn't care. Last night was wonderful. Fantastic. Who knew she knew someone that had so many interests as she did. It had been so long since she's met anyone remotely like Draco. And Draco. That pale blond hair, pointed face, sensual lips, slim figure, cold, grey, interested eyes. She shivered as she remembered how intense his gaze was and her smile turned wistful. She sighed deeply.

There was a soft knock on the door and Hermione's mother entered, a cup of tea in hand. "Morning honey," she greeted in a pleasant tone. Hermione groggily sat up again, and accepted the tea gratefully. "You had quite a busy night last night," her mother commented, straightening Hermione's duvet.

"Mmhm," Hermione concurred into her tea cup, not willing to talk about the evening before. She hoped that her mother would drop the subject, especially if the evening in question was spent with one Draco Malfoy.

"What's his name?" Hermione's mother asked playfully.

"Mom!" Hermione exclaimed, but couldn't fight back her blushes. Her mother laughed in reply and stood.

"Speaking of men, there's someone waiting for you downstairs."

Hermione stiffened. "Who?" she asked a little too sharply, her mind throwing the image of Draco. He wouldn't.

Her mom smiled secretively. "Well, you will have to see that for yourself, dear."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She rose quickly, but stopped in the middle of her room, clutching her head in an attempt to clear the head rush. She donned her dressing robe over her pajamas, and tied her hair back into a neat-ish bun – there was no time to brush it out. So, be-decked in slippers and cup of tea in hand, Hermione rushed downstairs, her stomach churning in protest and anticipation.

She stopped dead at the living room threshold.

That was spanner that was thrown into the works, the one thing she hadn't thought of since two o'clock the previous afternoon.

Ronald Weasley.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNNN! [inserting violin glassando too ^^]. Bet you didn't think ron would arrive!

Tune in for more...

[and review while you're at it :D]

Signing off

Caneater