"Draco!"

Hermione jumped back in shock until she stood against the protection of the wall, her wand arm automatically flying to the pocket at her side and her eyes wide, conveying her surprise at his sudden appearance. What was he doing here? According to Pansy he should have been in Geneva, and would remain there for quite some time.

Hermione reminded herself that she had insisted to Pansy that she would have no apprehensions about confronting Draco if need be. And currently, she was not intimidated in the slightest! Not at all!

Unfortunately, her heart's rapid beating and the sudden dryness of her mouth did not help to convincer herself of either her confidence or her composure.

"Well… what an unexpected visitor!" Draco's voice was flat and emotionless.

More than anything else, he sounded tired and worn out. Unlike Hermione's simple clothing, Draco was dressed formally in a white shirt and expensive looking dark grey trousers. His clothes were slightly rumpled though, and the sleeves of his shirt were pushed half-way up his arms. Noting the dark circles under his eyes and the dishevelled mess that was his usually immaculately-groomed hair, Hermione could not remember a time when she had seen him in such disarray. In fact, the only other time she had seen him so disordered was on that one last night after they had–

Furious with herself for allowing old and painful memories to resurface once again, Hermione scrambled to put her thoughts in order. Ignoring the beginnings of sympathy over his strained appearance she lifted her chin defiantly, met him eye-for-eye and informed him briskly,

"Not to worry. There really isn't any need to roll out the red carpet, I shan't be staying long. I've just come by to see Narcissa."

Immediately, Draco frowned.

"My mother? She's visiting some niece several times removed in Florence. Why do you want to see her? As I recall there was little love lost between the two of you."

Hermione bristled with renewed hostility at the discovery that he had been aware of her and Narcissa's antagonism and had still instructed his mother to humiliate her and discard of her as she had done. She should be savouring this moment… her long-awaited chance to give the Malfoys their much needed come-uppance.

"One would hope royalty is civilised enough not to curse the messenger…"

The silence stretching dangerously between them, taut with years of unspoken resentment and aggression. Hermione's stomach dropped to the floor as she saw the way Draco was looking at her, his eyes narrowed intently, flashing silver. Slightly unsure of herself under his intense scrutiny, Hermione faltered.

"I – message. What I mean to say is… I have a message… news from Pansy!"

She could conveniently forget that one embarrassing stumble when she would proudly recall this moment of her revenge in the future.

"What message? Why is Pansy not here herself? Give me the message!"

Hermione pursed her lips to keep from making a fool of herself once more by doing something ill-considered.

Like poking her tongue out at him and declaring "Nuh uh! You're not the boss of me!", as was her first reaction. And then there had been her second reaction, "Or what – you'll throw me in the dungeons?" She was a twenty seven year old woman for Merlin's sake, and here she was thinking like a petulant toddler.

Speaking of toddlers, "What message … Give me the message", indeed!

"I'm waiting…"

His surly attitude fanned her antipathy into flame once more. Draco was used to demanding something and having it granted in an instant like a spoiled child. At nineteen she might have been in awe of Draco's title and obliging enough to have endured his arrogance and bad temper, but not any longer. Too infuriated to think of prolonging his torture and delighting in her drawn out plot of revenge, Hermione took a deep breath.

"Give you the message…? With the greatest of pleasure, you spoilt, smug, self-obsessed prick!" She smiled unkindly at him and bowed mockingly. "Pansy Hortensia, of the right noble family Parkinson, wishes to inform His Most Serene Highness, the Prince Draco Lucien Valarus Black Malfoy, that she has entered into the contract of marriage with the most forth-right and honourable squire Ronald Bilius Weasley… In plain English, she eloped."

If it was possible, Draco's impossibly straight spine stiffened, but he was yet to voice any scathing comments in response to Hermione's outburst. She raised an eyebrow at Draco's lack of a reaction. Seizing the opportunity, Hermione continued her tirade, gesturing wildly.

"Now that she's finally escaped the machinations of your mother she looks as if she's finally come alive. Pansy's happy with Ron. Much happier than she's ever been, I'd bet. She loves him, you see – or perhaps you don't, having exceptionally little experience with actual human emotions – and he loves Pansy and… unhand me, Malfoy!"

Hermione's wrist was captured in the vice-like grip of Draco's hand, her furious demands to be released completely ignored. Despite her struggles the efforts to free her arm by digging her nails into Draco's fingers, the tensile strength of his grip did not relax one iota. Neither did he slow his pace, or even change his gait, as he dragged her down the richly decorated corridor.

He turned suddenly, pushed open a set of imposing double doors decorated with a tremendous Malfoy family crest and half-dragged, half-thrust a still slitghly off-balance Hermione into the elegantly furnished room that lay beyond them.

As Hermione spun to face him, ignoring the ache in her wrist, she recognised the room that she had been "escorted" to as the main salon in Draco's private suite. Little had changed since the last time she had been in this room; the upholstery, curtains and carpet may have faded a little through wear and bleached by the sunlight, but that was all. It seemed very little in the entire castle had changed since her departure.

"Pansy has gone and married that red-haired vagrant Ronald Weasley?!"

There was no mistaking the frustration in Draco's voice.

"I'm sorry if this has disappointed your plans." Hermione sounded anything but. In fact, she was fighting an almost impossible battle to disguise the self-righteous smile gracing her lips.

Anger flashed in his light grey eyes and his mouth thinned in recognition of her mocking tone.

"Oh, but it's a down-right shame. Your mother really was so invested in facilitating a match between you and Pansy. All those plans, all that hard work, tsk tsk… Still, I am sure that you will quite easily find another woman to take her place – if you don't already have someone waiting in the wings." The cynicism Hermione felt darkened her own eyes and twisted her lips into a crooked line.

Pansy had made no bones about the fact that Draco's desire to marry her had been motivated by cold, hard practicality.

"Draco doesn't love me, nor did I ever really love him" she had confided in Hermione. "But he was unfailingly polite and kind to me. Until I met Ron again and fell in love with him I can't honestly say that I really minded that our marriage would be solely a political union." Pansy had smiled widely, her cheeks darkening slighty. "That's changed now. I couldn't imagine being married to anyone but Ron. That's why… well, I'm afraid that if I went back to Cythera and told Draco and Narcissa that I couldn't marry him, they might…"

"Force you?" Hermione had finished after Pansy trailed off. She would not put it beyond either of Draco or his mother to intimidate Pansy, or anyone else for that matter, and had no misgivings about saying so.

Pansy had simply shrugged. "Draco has to marry someone. He must provide the country with an heir. The people expect it – and Narcissa will make sure of it."

"The world must be full of shallow, beautiful women who would be only too eager to marry all of this, Draco," Hermione continued her diatribe, gesturing to the room and it's opulent furnishings. "Oh, and you, of course! Quite a catch, aren't you? A real-life Prince Charming with his very own fairy tale kingdom and so much to offer besides! Chiefly your arrogance, your petulance, your vanity, your lack of any real emotional depth–"

"That's more than enough." Draco snarled coldly. "You have delivered your message and made your point. Now you're just getting into personal grudges…"

"As if I don't have enough reasons to dislike the name Malfoy!"

Draco blithely ignored her muttered remark, "You were correct in one thing, Hermione. It shall be easy for me to find someone to take Pansy's place. Incredibly easy. In fact…"

A rapacious smile, which could in no way be described as friendly, slowly spread across his face. There was something in his expression that made her shudder; made her regret her emotional outburst of pent-up bitterness. Hermione was still panting slightly, not having taken a deep breath since the start of her long speech. She told herself it was for this reason only, and not some residual bitterness towards the ex-Slytherin, that she overlooked his comment about Pansy being easily replaced.

Since when did he become so coolly economical with his words? His measured responses were very disconcerting. Eight years ago he would have stopped her in a second and given just as good as he got. Better even, considering he could insult in several languages, both esoteric and vernacular. In fact, the very idea that she could have somehow shocked him into silence had spurred her on in her abuse, perhaps unwisely.

"In fact," Draco repeated softly, "I have already done so."

Already done so? Now Hermione was definitely shocked. He already had a second choice waiting in the background? When she had accused him of that, it had really just been in the heat of the moment, to show how low her general opinion of him was. She had not even given a thought to the truthfulness of her accusations, it had been enough that she had a chance to make them at all.

But of course, it was so typical of him, Hermione decided contemptuously. She might have been able to derail Narcissa's big plans for Pansy and her son, but Draco was suitably Machiavellian to have prepared a second, third, maybe even fourth backup plan. Hell, he probably had backups way into double digits she thought disparagingly. (And that was just their I.Q.)

It really was a pity that Narcissa was away. They could have had a great shouting match, Hermione could have thrown a few of hexes in between dodging Unforgivables and then she would have happily been on her way, knowing that she finally had a one-up on the icy blonde woman. She would have been forever able to take comfort in seeing the controlled social facade slip off, replaced by a snarling mask of frustration and impotence. If she was really lucky, she might have even been able to hit the woman with a good old Bat Bogey Hex.

But she couldn't catch a break with Draco. Just when she thought she had him, he went and turned everything on its head. He was cold, methodical and didn't let anything past him. No doubt he had a whole catalogue of potential brides at his disposal, who would become potential mistresses after the wedding.

Before Hermione could voice her scorn, Draco continued smoothly, "If Pansy won't marry me, Hermione, then you will!"

Damn him! She was not expecting that…

A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating. Thanks again to readers, hopefully you're enjoying this so far!

Heartfelt thank yous go out to whatifgirl, Fozzy-Floozy and Harmless Lies for their sincere praise.

HarryPGinnyW4Eva – well, the marriage proposal seems to indicate interest, but is it a good sign?!

Eva1983 – me… a sneak?! Well, yes. I'm getting in touch with my inner Slytherin preens

TheresNothingInside – as I said, it's the Slytherin in me. As for the hairball, it's just one of the many mysteries of the universe!

Vietnamese cold rolls for all! But especially sma11towngir1 - hopefully they're more appetising than that bit you have to resort to in order to stave off hunger pains ;)