Chapter 13

Pansy wasn't the only one who'd heard of the little incident in Paris. She was the only one who remarked however, earning her the name Pansy-bitch. But it was obvious that other people knew and they had opinions about it.

Harry believed her about being completely out of her mind due to her drink being spiked. Ron was a little more aloof. Her other friends were sensible enough to not mention it. She gave them her sharpest look if they even looked like they were about to.

With regards to herself, she simply refused to think about it. The whole idea of being lip locked with Draco Malfoy was beyond comprehension. Which probably included some roaming hands, she suspected. The whole thing about her hands having been places she didn't remember was disconcerting at the very least.

The only time she recalled purposefully touching Draco Malfoy was when she hit him in third form. There was the whole sunscreen debacle, which was just… bothersome. But worse was wondering how far it would have gone if Ginny hadn't stepped in. She couldn't even let her mind go there.

There were whispers around the Ministry. People were regarding her as she walked passed and sometimes whispering to each other even before she was out of earshot. Really, if they were going to gossip, they could show enough respect to do it behind her back.

The flowers from Blaise stopped, which was good. Although it was just another thing for people to gossip about. She decided to focus on work and refused to let anything distract her. Luckily, there was plenty to do.

She had lunch a couple of times with Ginny, who's life was hijacked by the inability of her mother and Fleur to agree on anything with regards to the wedding arrangements. Fortunately they had no more visits from Pansy-bitch.

Then there were the uncomfortable things, like the invite to Blaise's firm's networking evening. Being a central figure in the Ministry's legislation process meant that her attendance was pretty much mandatory. It had been exciting when she and Blaise were running around together, now it was just painful. She particularly hated how formal the things were. She had to get dressed up, finding a balance between more formal than work and still professional.

She didn't want to but she went, drank champagne and chatted with colleagues and associates. She wore a burgundy satin robe with a dark wrap and nylons. The formality of her clothes seemed to steel and sooth her a bit. Professional she could do.

Blaise was there. He looked gorgeous. He saw her, but didn't approach her. She could feel his eyes on her back and she felt intensely uncomfortable. After a while, she couldn't take it anymore and decided she needed a reprieve in the ladies.

"Running away." She heard as she walked down the dark wooden corridor that reflected the whole décor of the law firm. Sombre, dark and wealthy. The voice she knew. It was the one she least wanted to hear, but this moment was inevitable, she recognised.

"Are you always lurking in some dark corner?"

"I find it a good vantage point to observe."

"And what do you observe?" She asked, she couldn't quite help herself even though she knew it could be inviting trouble.

"All sorts of things." He said teasingly.

"I have to go." She said, not wanting to play whatever game he was setting up. If he was going down the flirting route, she didn't want to know.

"Let's not be hasty." He said. "I think we have some things to talk about."

"We have nothing to talk about." She rounded.

"Really?" He said stepping closer. "True perhaps, last time we met, talking wasn't on your mind."

"I was drugged out of all comprehension." She defended herself sharply.

"And you came for me like a missile."

She had nothing to say to defend herself. She had, and had no way of even knowing what her motives or thoughts were. "I was out of my mind."

"Well, you weren't a blithering mess on the floor, you knew exactly what you wanted." He said. "Not that I am complaining. It gave me a bit of a surprise, but at the end of the day, I am always up for a bit of action. Even if it is quite insistent."

Hermione tried to formulate something to say. Why was she always tongue tied around him? Obviously because she had nothing to defend these particular actions. "Your association with Blaise probably confused me." She stated. "Or maybe I was getting back at him."

"Getting back at Blaise by having it on with me for the world to see?" He said with a raised eyebrow. "Not your style."

That was true, it wasn't her style.

"How would you know what my style is?" She said. "You don't know anything about me."

"We have known each other since we were eleven." He said.

"The most arms length of associations, I assure you." She challenged. "You don't know anything about me."

He stepped forward, into her personal space. It made her intensely uncomfortable, she stepped back, then chided herself, she didn't back down from someone like him. "My father always insisted that to be successful you have to know your enemy."

The statement brought the conversation to a darker element. "Is that what we are, enemies?" She asked, not quite sure how he would answer that. Throughout her association with Blaise, she had never felt danger around him, but she wasn't sure what he revealed. Although in school his never hid his low regard for her.

"No." He said with a smile. "I am actually trying to help you, if you'd believe, but we were once on different sides. All I am saying is that at one time, I made it my business to know about you."

His nearness was uncomfortable. Why wasn't he uncomfortable? Then it hit her, he had memories and knowledge of them being much more intimate. The absence of personal space that you have with an intimate. She didn't have that knowledge, but she refused to be cowered.

This close, it became apparent that he was bigger than her. Not something she had really considered before. He was taller, and stronger. No longer a boy.

Although his actions were still childish, she reminded herself. A spoilt brat, who ran around and partied, drank and bedded anyone he wanted to. A strange mixture. The emanations of a man, but the actions of a boy. And nothing she wanted anything to do with.

He was still much to close for comfort.

"But that is not the reality anymore." He said, and it took her a moment to realise he was talking about the war and the sides they were on. The world had moved to forget it quickly. No one referred to it anymore. "And now you've crossed the divide, quite some peace offering." He was watching her features and she hated it, but she refused to back away even though she really, really wanted to.

"I was out of my mind."

"It didn't feel that way." He said, coming even closer if it was humanly possible. Her mind was screaming in objection. How could he possibly have such nice smooth skin?

"Oh believe me, I was completely bonkers." She said through her dry throat. She couldn't take it anymore and she stepped back. He noticed. "And for the record, I don't recall a single thing about that night. A complete blank."

"I could remind you." He said, smirking. "Jogg the memory a bit."

"Not memories I want." She said stepping away further. "It was an unfortunate incident, lets just leave it at that."

"That wouldn't be a good idea." He said.

"That would be an excellent idea."

"Not for you."

"Oh? How so?" She said ready to hear whatever he was about to say. She could at least get a laugh out of this whole thing.

"Your reputation." He said silkily. "Taken a bit of a battering. Throwing yourself around. Blaise, Marcus, and me. Probably the odd one before. You're a bit of a Pariah. Everyone you've even sat next to will be dragged out and examined. Its going to affect your career. Gives the impression that your loose, inconsiderate and insecure, not a trait wanted in someone in your position. And it would stick for a long time, you will start being sidelined, a persona non grata. The end of your illustrious career."

"Over-reacting a tad, aren't you?" She said. "And how exactly would you jogging my memories avoid that."

"Come Granger, you know how prudish this society is. You, an unattached girl, treating the boys like your own amusement park. That just crosses the line, particularly someone of your stature."

"My stature, you mean a mudblood." She said sharply.

"The prejudice is still there, under the surface, looking for an excuse." He said. "And you going through guys like you're changing socks, doesn't send an acceptable message. But if you persist with me, sends a different message. You fall for my charms, leave your boyfriend, all just a little scandal that will blow over. The same as many before you."

"What, so its acceptable for me to be stupid and 'fall for you'?" She emphasised. "Then to accidentally kiss you under the influence of a potion someone gave me unwittingly."

"Problem, no one will buy that story, will they? Not really." He said. "They will always assume the worst. That you are a person that uses people, likes to spread your favours around."

"You're disgusting."

"No, that's how they will see you."

"But if I fall prey to you and you're spreading it around, that's acceptable? A bit of a double standard, isn't it?"

"Who told you there wasn't a double standard?" He said. "You can fall victim to me, but you can't do what I do."

"And I'm not victim enough yet?" She said incredulously. "How exactly haven't I been victimised in this?"

"As far all they're all concerned, you're the aggressor, toying with boys at will." He said with a creeping smile that made her want to punch him. "For you to survive this, you have to have acted out of how your weak nature compels, unable to resist your emotions, leaving your beau because you couldn't resist your feelings for another."

"That's ridiculous."

"A scandal like any other, it would blow over. A victim to your womanly soft heart, not the wanton seducer who victimises others with no regard to consequence beyond your own wishes and advancement. That would not be acceptable to this society, or the old guard attitudes of your colleagues and superiors."

"Please, anyone who knows me would laugh at the idea of me being a seducer."

"Really?" He said. "You sure acted the part superbly. And trust me, being on the receiving end of it, you can be very convincing."

Hermione snorted. It was a ridiculous notion.

"If you value your reputation and having any standing in this society." He continued in insistent tones to show he was dead serious. "You have to persist with me. It is the only think that will turn this story into something that will eventually be forgivable and forgettable."

"No one will believe I could fall victim to … your charm."

"Yes they would." He said like her statement was ludicrous. "You're no different than any other girl."

"Like I am one of those dim-witted girls that fall into bed with someone like you."

"That's the point, darling." He said stressing the endearment. "You are no different. That is the crux of the story you have to complete, otherwise things will go very badly for you. Or do you want to end up in the basement doing filing for the rest of your life."

Hermione stared at him. Being stuck in a dead-end job for the rest of her life might possibly be the worst fate she could think of. Her mind tried to race through actions and outcomes, but she didn't find a viable avenue.

"Oh Draco," she said in the flattest, most unengaged voice she could manage. "I'm so in love with you."

She watched the smirk spread across his face. She wanted to hit him so badly, her fist shook.

"Good girl." He said and stepped away from her. He was clearly amused before stepping around the corner back to the party.