Disclaimer: all recognizable characters, spells, concepts, etc. belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this story...

Chapter 2: The New Girl

I rolled over and blinked as slivers of bright sunlight filtered through the slats in the window shades.

It was morning and for a few brief moments, I enjoyed thinking about my plans for the day … until memories of the previous evening night came rushing back to me. Last night had ranked high on my list of worst nights ever. My date with Oliver Wood had been a disaster. During school I had never known much about him, except that Quidditch was his first love that much had not changed. However, I never expected him to be such a wanker. I suppose fame can ruin the best of us.

Oh, and I mustn't forget the dead body.

I hadn't been able to fall asleep until the sky had turned a light shade of gray. The image of the unknown woman had been etched into the back of my eyelids; skinless and lifeless. As a last resort, I'd taken a small bit of dreamless sleep potion in some tea. Only then had I been able to drift off.

I quickly rolled out of bed and opened the shades. The sky was cloudless and blue, a perfect day for a Quidditch game. I knew it wouldn't be too hot — it was late May — the weather was still mild. Too bad I wouldn't be there. I'd planned other ways to spend my day, none of which included going to a crowded, noisy pitch. It wasn't that I didn't fancy Quidditch. I had come to appreciate the sport because all of my friends were fanatics and participants, but it just wasn't the way that I'd want to spend one to seven hours on a Saturday afternoon.

Shuffling into the bathroom, I passed the mirror over the sink and caught a glimpse of myself. My curly, waist length hair fell in thick tangles past my shoulders. A few years earlier, I'd finally decided the weight of longer hair helped with the bushiness. It was time consuming to manage, especially when I tried without magic, but it was a better alternative to chronically bushy hair.

I'd forgotten to remove the heavy eye makeup from the previous night. My skin seemed fairer and eyes seemed larger next to the dark make-up.

An hour later, I was groomed and dressed in a red sleeveless turtle neck and my favorite pair of denims. I wore my hair in a simple ponytail at the back of my head and cleaned off last night's make-up.

I still had two hours before I had to meet my friends so, I decided to skip breakfast and pay a visit to the wizarding library to pass the time.

Hard to believe that Ron and Harry had still gone to the game. At nearly three o'clock in the morning I'd gotten a floo call from Ron. They had just finished inspecting the alleyway, and the body that had been carted off to St. Mungo's. The body was definitely the missing Muggle-born woman. Adrienne Wright had been her name. Ron said they — the Aurors — didn't believe the body had been planted for me to find, but rather just dumped there. They were still trying to trace what had eaten away her skin. I was certain I could find something at the library to help explain. I felt it was the least I could do.

The library was one of the safe and trustworthy places that now helped fill in Knockturn Alley after the Ministry's hand at cracking down on transferring of dark goods. I Apparated to Diagon Alley, and turned off the main road towards Knockturn Alley. It was empty except for two people that stood in front of the apothecary at the end of the street. As I drew closer, I realized the pair was Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass. They seemed to be having some kind of argument, but I was too far away to be sure. Malfoy jerked away when Daphne tried to place her hand on his arm. Finally, he shook his head and walked away.

"Where do you think you're going?" she called after him. He didn't answer.

I suddenly realized that I had been standing there, openly watching this exchange. I quickly ducked into the library. It was probably just a lover's quarrel or something equally uninteresting. I didn't know much about them, but they had been together at the restaurant last evening … it was a safe assumption.

The history of Dark Arts section in the library — provided for educational purposes — seemed like the right place to start looking for something that might be helpful to the case. I found a book on torturing practices. I hadn't thought of that … could they have tortured her to death? The answer was yes. The very nature of her death was outright torture, but I hoped she didn't suffer long. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I sometimes still had nightmares that I was trapped, wandless and writhing in pain as Bellatrix cackled like some sort of mad-hyena . I shivered as I slid the book from its slot on the shelf.

With a sigh, I sat down in the middle of the empty aisle to read.

I found a particularly disturbing passage about dark wizards that would torture prisoners by slowly roasting the skin off of their feet so they couldn't run away. I next found a passage about sorcerers that had once believed in actually wearing the skin of their enemies for protection against evil.

There was an accompanying picture of a scowling, stringy looking wizard. It was both ridiculous and digusting when I realized he looked so withered because his hair was actually the dead and decaying parts of another. Adrienne Wright's body had been dumped in an alley. Though she had been skinned — or something, there was nothing that seemed ritualistic in her death. Just terribly sick.

I was so lost in my morbid train of thought that I barely noticed a pair of shiny black boots slide into my field of vision. I yelped and jumped to my feet, pulling my wand out of habit. The apology for blocking the aisle was nearly out of my mouth, but I stopped short when my eyes met the rather bored looking face of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" I made it a question.

I had not spoken to him directly since Hogwarts. Standing this close to him now was odd and to my disappointment, made me nervous. I didn't know what to say. Was he here to start trouble? That was likely, but if he wasn't and I assumed, then I'd look like a complete arse. I shifted my weight and squeezed the heel of my wand for comfort.

"Granger," he replied. "Catching up on a bit of light reading, I imagine?" His eyes roamed to the book on the floor still opened to the disturbing illustration.

"Did you need something?" I asked. My pulse hadn't slowed one bit and the way he looked at me didn't help.

I didn't particularly care for the mischievous look in his eyes. They alone were slightly alarming. They were gray, and not just flat gray like some old, boring stone. They were light, almost blue at the center, and then darkened until the outer edge was a ring of deepest gray. Alarming and mesmerizing.

He shrugged. "Not particularly. I just noticed you eavesdropping on a private conversation and I thought it'd be polite to say hello."

"I—I …." I sputtered. "I don't know what you're referring to."

A slow, unexpected smirk tugged at his mouth, his eyes squinted in the corners.

"Steady on, Granger. You didn't hear anything of importance anyway." His voice was smug. He folded his arms over his chest, looking pleased with himself. It reminded me of a look I easily recognized on Percy's freckly face.

My heart slowed to a normal pace. He was after nothing but a little ancient childish banter. Annoying, but harmless. I relaxed the death grip that I had on my wand. If I hadn't used it yet, odds were I wouldn't have to.

"I was not eavesdropping on you," I said, slightly bristled by his accusation.

"Of course not." He smiled knowingly, flashing a set of teeth my parents would be proud of.

I rolled my eyes and levitated the book back to the shelf. I did my best to ignore him as I bent to gather the rest of my things from their scattered place on the floor. My fingers felt clumsy, and my arms awkward. He was standing so close to me, I could smell the fresh leather of his shoes and the mild cologne he wore.

I could feel his smirk and watchful eyes prickling between my shoulder blades as I continued to fumble with the notes I'd made. I didn't even bother putting them back into the little purse I'd brought along. A few stacks over, someone dropped a book that hit the ground with a loud slap! and I jumped.

I took my frustration out on him.

"Is there any reason why you're hovering over me like a professor?" I snapped in a whisper. But, it was the kind of whisper that made the librarian frown at you over the top of their thick glasses. It wasn't exactly quiet.

If it were possible, I'd say his smirk grew, and it was wildly annoying.

"Actually," he drawled, "I was a bit surprised to find you lurking about Knockturn Alley. Most people still find it unsavory enough. Shouldn't you be at the Quidditch games with your lot."

"So you were being nosy."

"I guess that's something we have in common, yeah?"

"Not really. Besides, what makes you think I want go to the game just because my friends did? We aren't at school anymore, we don't have to do everything together." My arms were beginning to hurt from the books and parchments in my arms.

"I could say the same for you, though. Why aren't you at the game?" I asked him.

He lifted a shoulder in a half-committed shrug. "I left early."

It was on my tongue to ask why, when he pointed to my wand that was now flashing bright red at the tip. I had spelled my wand to flash when it was time to start heading towards Harry's place. I guess now was the time.

"Looks like you're late for something." And for one short second his eyes met with mine. He turned and started walking to the end of the aisle. As he turned the corner he glanced over his shoulder. "Nice talking to you, Granger."

And like that, he was gone.

I was confused. First of all, I'd just had a conversation with Draco Malfoy that didn't end in bloodshed and mayhem. Good for us, I suppose. But more importantly, I didn't know why. I had to know the why. Was he flirting? or scheming? or something else all together?

My wand started to keen, and it startled me out of my thoughts. Several people turned ot me with angry eyes. I quickly crammed all my things inside of my purse and hastened from the library to Apparate away.

I was still in a bit of a daze when I absently rapped my knuckles on Harry's door. I didn't have much time to analyze the strange conversation with Malfoy, either. After the first knock, the door opened and as soon as I saw Harry's face, all other thoughts were forgotten.

"Harry James Potter, I should hex your eyebrows off!" I said, unsheathing my wand but keeping it pointed at the floor. Never point a wand unless you mean to use it.

He held up his hands defensively. He looked tired. "Hey now, no need to hex anything off. What are you on about, Hermione?"

"Setting me up with Oliver Wood? He was the biggest sodding prat I've met in a long time."

Suddenly, Ginny and Ron ran into the room, probably to see the cause of the commotion. Ron was still tall and lanky, and wore his hair long. It wasn't my favorite this way; with the fringe hiding his cobalt blue eyes. He too, looked a little worse for wear.

"What's all the noise about? You're going to wake up Lily," he said.

"Yeah what's this about Oliver Wood, now?" Ginny added, her brown eyes glittering with excitement. Even without trying, Ginny was beautiful. She wore a simple blue tank top and a khaki skirt. Her long ginger hair was past her shoulders, straight and shiny with side-swept bangs.

"Her date last night didn't go so well," Harry explained, keeping an eye on my wand as he spoke. Ginny's face fell.

"Didn't go well is an understatement," I said, though I could feel my anger ebbing. I put my wand away and walked further into the room. There was no need to have it out if I wasn't going to use it, and I wasn't. I told them about my night, leaving out certain parts of it.

Harry grimaced. "Ah, I'm sorry, Hermione. Ginny thought you would really like him."

"I figured Ginny had something to do with this …"

"No wonder we didn't see you when we got there," said Ginny. "We're sorry, we…"

Harry nudged her.

"I thought Wood seemed like a nice guy and I know you have a thing for Quidditch players. That's why I asked Harry to set you up with him when he'd told Harry he needed a date."

"I certainly do not have a thing for Quidditch players!"

"Of course you do. We all remember Krum and O'Neal," Ron chimed in.

Fine, I had dated two Quidditch players, but Krum was so long ago it could hardly even count. So, technically one, though I doubt that kind of logic would fly with this crowd. "Two people hardly mean I have a thing for Quidditch players," I said, letting the anger show on my face.

"See, that's why people should mind their own business. I'm sure Hermione is perfectly capable of finding her own dates," Ron said with an air of finality.

His comment surprised, but pleased me. Ron and I had dated briefly after Hogwarts, but we found that we faired much better as mates. He said I was too bossy and I thought he was too temperamental. Being just friends had done wonders for his temper. We had occasionally gotten together for — certain physical benefits, but it had been nearly thirteen months since we'd indulged. Harry and Ginny didn't know and we intended to keep it that way.

"Thanks Ron," I said.

We didn't discuss my personal life any more, but I had a feeling Ginny or Harry wouldn't be trying to set me up again any time soon. After so many failed attempts, it was better to just give up. We didn't talk about the murder either. Harry hated to bring work into his personal life, since it upset Ginny. She respected it. It was Ginny who changed the subject.

"Hermione, guess who I saw last night."

I was pretty sure where this was going, but played along anyway. "Who?"

"That witch from your year that Ron used to date, Lavender Brown." I looked at Ron, and he gave me a look that said Ginny had been dying to say that all day. I smiled.

"Oh, yeah, I saw her too. She was at Malfoy's table."

"Yeah, apparently she's with that guy, Blaise something…"

"Zabini," I said.

"I was actually a little shocked," Harry said. He raised his hands shoulder level, palms facing forward. "But, whatever does it for her, I don't care."

Ginny looked at him. "Neither do I, but it's just so — I just want to know how they got together."

For some reason, I decided not to mention that I'd actually talked with Lavender and Malfoy. There was still an unsatisfied curiosity there and I didn't know whether or not to do anything about it. It was best to just keep quiet until I knew.

Half an hour later, Neville, Luna, and a girl I didn't know, showed up. Neville and Luna had been dating for several months. I suspected they were pretty serious. They were inseparable. They held hands and nearly entered the door abreast, until Neville stepped aside to allow Luna in first. I hugged them both.

"Hello, I remember you from last night," Harry said to the new girl.

She was petite, with short, black hair. She had pouty, full lips and bright blue eyes that looked too big for her tiny face. She looked like a cute little pixie.

She smiled at him and greeted Ginny too. She finally turned to me and stuck out her hand. "My name is Charlotte Bell. You must be Hermione." Her voice matched the look. It was high and clear, like chimes.

"Yeah, I guess I am, nice to meet you."

Ron rolled his eyes and stepped next to her. "I'm glad you came," he said to her at last.

"I'm glad you invited me," she said. She gave a coy smile and worried her bottom lip. It was almost too much to watch.

Fortunately, I didn't have to much longer.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the game with us, Hermione? I'm sure we could get you in if you wanted to come," Neville said, his forehead creased with concern.

"I'd really like it if you'd come, Hermione," Luna said in her serene voice.

"No, really, it's all right. I don't really feel like the noise." I also didn't feel like being the odd one out and feeling like a jealous, old harpy.

Harry understood. He flashed me one apologetic look before taking off with Ginny and the still sleeping Lily.

***

I had the rest of the weekend for my curiosity about Malfoy to grow into something big and before I knew it I was back to work, though more anxious than usual. I felt wretchedly pathetic for what I was about to do.

I worked on the main level of the Ministry as director for the Department of Muggle Relations. My job was a little bit of everything. It was my job to keep both the Minister of Magic and the Muggle Prime Minister informed about the other. Crime, politics, even holidays, if it involved Muggles, I was there. Magical Law Enforcement, Aurors and Division for the Investigation and Cessation of Dark Artifacts were on the seventh level. Since I never had a reason to go there, if Ron and Harry had time to meet for lunch, they came up to see me. Today, however, was going to be different.

I vaguely remember Ron in his Auror's uniform complaining with disbelief that Malfoy had been hired to join the Division for the Investigation and Cessation of Dark Artifacts.

I hesitated before stepping off the lift. Although no windows existed in the Ministry, level seven somehow seemed darker and colder than the main level. Maybe it was because only authorized persons were allowed this far.

I approached an unremarkable wooden door labeled 'Aurors' and hesitated briefly to compose myself before turning the knob and walking inside.

The Aurors' office was drastically different from the office I worked out of. There were no cubicles or filing cabinets or piles of paper work. There were only rows and rows of tables holding every detection device ever made. Several bells and chimes sounded at my entrance, but none of the Aurors concentrating over a Pensieve in the corner acknowledged my entrance.

Harry materialized from someplace to my right.

"Hermione? Is everything all right?" he asked, the pitch of his voice higher than normal.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"Oh," he said, visibly relaxing. "Well then, what are you doing down here?"

Good question. What was I doing down here? "Oh, well, things were slow in the office; I just came to see what you and Ron were doing for lunch?" Liar. Tell him the truth. Well Harry, I'm stalking Draco Malfoy. It just didn't sound like a great idea.

"Oh, okay, well actually we were going to go to the Burrow, Molly's made some of that chicken salad. Did you want to come?"

"Sure," I said a little too enthusiastically.

Harry smiled. "All right, wait right here, I'll go get Ron."

Ron had eagerly dropped what he was doing. Food took precedence over anything else, in his book. We joined the crowd in the corridor all heading to the lifts.

The three of us and a woman with short brown hair waited in silence for the lift to make its way back down to the seventh level. Ron chatted about the chicken salad and occasionally bounced on the balls of his feet. When doors of the lift finally opened, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that I'd missed the opportunity to see Malfoy. I didn't like that I was disappointed, either.

Just as the heavy doors were about to close, a hand slid inside, caught the door, and forced it back open. It was Malfoy. He stepped into the space that seemed to expand to accommodate the new passenger. He was attractive his in gray Ministry issued robes and his short hair was neatly combed. I felt both excited and disappointed. Although I had gotten to see him after all, in the presence of Ron and Harry, I would not be able to talk to him today.

Would he want to say anything to me anyway? And more importantly, why did I care? He acknowledged Harry and Ron with a terse nod of the head. He politely nodded at the brunette woman and started to do the same to me. But he did a double take, a bemused expression marring the carefully schooled features of his pale face.

A small part of me took delight in knowing that I could ruffle his composed exterior I had seen the last two times we met. As quickly as our eyes met, it was over. We all rode in silence and I wondered if it were only I that could feel this strange energy vibrating between Malfoy and me. I chanced a glance at Harry and Ron. They were trying so hard to ignore him that even Ron looked grim and stoned faced.

Malfoy was the first off the lift and I was the last. Once out of its confines, the fluttering pace of my heart returned to normal. What was the matter with me? It was Malfoy and I was behaving like a school girl.

I stood in line behind Ron at the Floo. Before I stepped in, I risked a glance in Malfoy's direction. He was staring right at me. I jerked my head forward, directing my gaze straight ahead. Harry looked questioningly at me. I ignored him and hastily announced my destination.

Ten seconds after I spun from the fireplace into the middle of Molly Weasley's living room, Harry followed.

"What was that about?" he questioned.

"What was what about?"

"Harry narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. "That thing between you and Malfoy. He kept looking at you, it was weird."

I felt the heat in my face. Damn Harry and his perceptiveness.

"I don't know what you're on about. You know Malfoy, he hates us. He was probably trying to think of ways to kill me without getting caught," I said flippantly.

"Has he been bothering you?"

That surprised me. But, of course, it would make more sense for Malfoy to want to hurt me than anything else.

"No, I don't know what Malfoy's problem is. Let's go eat, we only have an hour."

I don't think Harry believed me, but he didn't press it any further. I was glad, I needed time to process this new feeling that now joined my curiosity.

Try as I might I could not deny that I was attracted to Draco Malfoy. I soothed myself by saying it was only physical, which was the truth. I didn't really know anything about him and what I did know was enough to turn my stomach.

So, physical lust—it was the only logical explanation.


Notes:

Yeah, so. This chapter was a beast to write. Don't know why glad its over. Still don't like it. I must thank drcjsnider and eilonwy1 for thier superior beta-ing skills ( they also have superior writing skills, check out some of their stories). I forgot to thank them for the first chapter, too.

Thanks to everyone following this story! Your critiques help me learn and encourage me to be a better writer.