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Chapter 4:

Previously:

Brown eyes snapped up to meet grey.

"Keeping tabs on me, Malfoy?"

Draco's POV

Draco clenched his jaw, holding back a retort that would have made Granger's parents' Muggle ears pop off. As he often did at times like this, Draco tried to picture his mother's disapproving glare when she heard from Blaise that he had made a child of himself in public. Not that he had made a fool of himself in recent times.

I am bloody well not "keeping tabs". Draco thought self-righteously. He felt his jaw twitch under the witch's scrutiny. She obviously thought she had ruffled his feathers, sitting across the way looking like the cat that had gotten the cream. This is entirely unacceptable, Draco thought as he felt his mouth open.

"I am only peripherally aware," Draco drawled, "of the fact that you didn't end up taking over Madame Pince's position at Hogwarts or something equally…conventional." Draco tempered his response, which included sad, pathetically academic, and spinsterly, aware of the fact that charming, instead of angering, Granger's parents would be infinitely more amusing in the long-term.

"Hermione, dear. Why don't you switch seats with me so you can catch up with your friends? Besides I think that I might have a bit of a nap, seeing as how your father has already nodded off." Draco noted that Hermione's father had indeed dozed off while reading his daughter's book. Even her parents find her dull.

Hermione's mother started to get up out of her chair, ignoring Draco's internal protests and her daughter's external ones. Blaise, however, jumped on this opportunity to make his best friend and business partner squirm.

"I won't bite, Hermione, and Draco knows to behave himself in public." Blaise turned up the charm. Hermione reluctantly acquiesced to her mother's demands. Even she couldn't' ignore her matriarch, Draco noticed with childish satisfaction. That satisfaction was short-lived as he realized he was now stuck between two of the most irritating human beings in his acquaintance—his best friend and his childhood enemy.

Draco tried his best to pretend like he wasn't listening, just like he had been pretending fifteen minutes earlier that he wasn't considering stupefying Blaise and everyone on this plame for dragging him here in the first place.

Draco had spent the years following the Final Battle restoring the House of Malfoy—a responsibility that overshadowed his own personal desires and goals. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, he had envied Granger her ability to drop everything and leave Wizarding Britain, while he had been forced to not only stay, but also tolerate the irritating and sometimes scathing criticism of the Post-War Wizarding society.

"Well my parents thought that I needed a bit of a holiday before going back to Wizarding Britain. They had the entire thing planned out. It was a complete surprise. I had never been to Italy, you see. And I had heard that Sardinia had some of Europe's best beaches." Hermione was apparently gushing about her recent trip. Merlin, does she ever stop talking?

"That would explain the lovely tan." Blaise was such an ass. "Now, Hermione, why have you stayed away so long?"

Draco frowned slightly at the familiarity with which Blaise talked to a girl who they had wholly repulsed them in school. It was entirely inappropriate for them to be so chummy. Blaise really has turned into something of a sex addict, Draco thought acerbically. He was completely unable to differentiate between the worthy and unworthy at this point.

Draco bristled as he watched Granger blush at something Blaise had said. He—Draco Malfoy—was right here. Her parents were right over there! He was never letting Blaise do the travel plans again. This really was a plebian mode of transportation. Draco wished he could Apparate out of this stupid metal death trap. Granger leaned slightly into the aisle, and Draco suddenly felt slightly claustrophobic. He didn't need to be here.

"What brings you back to dreary, old London?" Blaise was on, full force.

"Excuse me, Miss," The twit from earlier was walking a food cart through the aisle, her mouth pursed unpleasantly as she assessed the situation between her recent bathroom fling and the small, unremarkable woman sitting across the aisle. Thank Merlin for small miracles, Draco thought as the conversation was interrupted.

"Oh, sorry!" Granger exclaimed, as oblivious as ever to the jealous glint in the airplane woman's eye.

Being as bushy-haired and buck-toothed as she was, Draco wasn't surprised that Granger lacked experience when dealing with other women. He remembered the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, when she had entered the Great Hall. It was as if she didn't notice the envious glances and pointed whispers from the other Hogwarts girls. Even Pansy couldn't talk of anything else the entire night, much to Draco's chagrin.

At the time Draco had thought it was an act—a performance put on in order to rise above her blood station and snag Viktor Krum—but the years had proven that Granger just didn't seem to understand how people saw her. Draco oscillated between derision and reluctant admiration for the girl's naivete.

Why is she returning to London?

As the plane servant busied herself noisily with the refreshments, Hermione tried unsuccessfully to continue her and Blaise's conversation as if there wasn't a passive-aggressive wench between them. Draco almost laughed. She really was too oblivious for her own good in these situations.

"Well, as I—I am, well—I have accepted a position as Director of the Ministry's new Department of Medicinal Exploration and Development."

"Well I guess we can't all be doctors." The flight attendant sniped as she shoved a cup of ice at the unfortunate man sitting behind Draco and Blaise, while glaring at the true object of her ire, who had the decency to look mildly sheepish.

Granger stuttered, confused by the woman's outburst. She really did need to remove that stick from us her arse...or read a book abut feminine politics. Wait, what did she say?

"You're the new Director?" Draco blurted out, with a little less dignity than he had aimed for.

Hermione bristled at his tone, or just the sound of his voice.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?"

He ignored her and, instead, pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to need a pain-relieving potion.

"So, I guess you two will be seeing a lot of each other," Blaise spoke up gleefully, elbowing Draco.

"Why would we be seeing a lot of each other?" Granger asked uncertainly, her face slowly blanching.

Maybe there was still time to back out of this deal, Draco thought quickly to himself as different scenarios played out before his closed eyelids.

"Malfoy Enterprises is the major donor for your new department, Director." Blaise's tone held the distinctive sadistic glee of a person pushing someone off of the plank.

Granger flushed. Malfoy cursed.