Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy was sitting in his suite of rooms, looking out onto the grounds of Dartmoor. He watched as some of the mares in the fold were calmly eating grass, with a couple of his prized stallions preening themselves and showing off on the fold beside them.

He made a mental note to check the limping mare he had spotted. She needed to be in good condition for the training later in the day.

His suite of rooms were as far away from the main staircase in the manor as possible. Usually, the heir to the dukedom was placed closer to the centre of the massive house but he had chosen these rooms himself. They were smaller but to him, they were more intimate. Less gaudy. There were less gold gilt on the ceilings and walls and it had a much freer airy feel.

And from here, he could see all that he had built.

The stables were new and state of the art. The folds were constructed a couple of years ago and specifically built for his purposes.

An arena for indoor training had been built close to the stables where they could train in the winter and he had constructed two polo fields for all of the days British weather would allow outdoor training. Which weren't many but it didn't matter.

The polo academy had no sponsor, not even his father. It ran under its own steam, despite him having ten students a year at most. He also had no team anymore, but he shouldn't think about that. It wasn't relevant any longer. It wasn't.

He was steeling himself for a long day. His mother had decreed that he join her for their fittings. It was the beginning of the season and both he and his mother should have new clothes for all relevant occasions.

The tailor for him and his father and the designer for his mother would both arrive in two hours. He considered taking a ride before, but the exercise would leave him flushed and too warm for the fitting with no escape possible. No, he would just have to accept a shower and breakfast in the parlour instead. Even though he itched for a fast ride across the grounds.

A knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

Their butler Hobson entered with a silver platter. "Today's correspondence my lord."

He nodded and took the letters. "Thank you Hobson."

The man lingered and Draco gave him an impatient look so he continued. "The duchess also wishes to inform you that breakfast with be in the conservatory today and that the tailor will bring an apprentice with him today."

Draco groaned inwardly. His tailor was a man who probably should have retired decades ago. He was wizen to the extreme and he refused to retire, probably because of his superior talent at making clothes of all kinds for men.

And now he would have to deal with an apprentice. He rolled his eyes. Lord save him from such a dull fate.

"Thank you again Hobson." The butler bowed and left the room, leaving Draco alone again.

He spent most of his time alone when he was inside the manor. It was so large that it was almost impossible to find someone here. But he was used to it. His parents had their own suite of rooms at the other end of the family wing and as small as their family was, they usually only used a small selection of the rooms in the manor.

The ballroom for example, was rarely used. And neither was the conservatory really, but his mother must have made an exception that day. The views over the lake and the garden beyond from there was really quite something.

He turned to the letters on the table beside the wingback chair he was occupying. He wondered briefly if any of those letters would actually interest him and disparaged of the thought immediately.

They wouldn't. None of the letters sent to him ever truly interested him.

And who sent letters anymore anyway? He had a perfectly fine email, though the people writing letters to him were probably exempt from having his personal email.

He started sorting through the letters. Invoice, invoice, invoice, invitations, another invoice, and then a slew of invitations to whatever events the season would bring, all clamouring for him to meet their daughters to ensure a future duchess in their family.

At the bottom of the pile there was a letter addressed with splotchy ink from a pen that probably didn't work very well. He turned the envelope over. A seal held the letter closed. He peered at it more closely. He knew that seal from somewhere.

He opened the letter, uncertain of what he would find inside, when it revealed no less than four tightly written pages. He looked at the bottom of the last page. Hermione Granger.

Granger. There was a Granger family that he'd heard of up near Bristol. Rich as sin and eccentric almost to the extreme.

He was intrigued.

The letter was long, yet to the point. Well written, yet with a bit too intense degree of detailing. Who was this woman?

At the very end of the letter, she wrote that she knew Harry Potter, his man in charge of the ponies living on their grounds.

Course decided, he showered quickly, dressed and marched to the conservatory.

It was a beautiful spring morning. The large glass doors were thrown wide and the crisp April breeze were flowing in to the room.

He bowed, as was expected of him. "Good morning mother, father."

His father merely nodded and returned to his bacon but his mother smiled. "Good morning Draco, I trust that you slept well?"

He hadn't but he never told his mother that. He didn't want her to worry about him or make a fuss around him. "I did mother, thank you." He sat and accepted the plate of breakfast from one of the footmen.

Draco tried, in vain, to eat his breakfast as quickly as possible, as he wanted to speak with Harry before the tailor arrived. But as usual, his mother noticed. Not much was beneath her notice really.

"May I ask why you are in such a hurry my darling? The tailor won't be here for at least another hour. Perhaps even longer." His mother looked deceptively innocent in her query but Draco knew better.

He fibbed but it had a grain of truth, which was always necessary when fibbing to his mother. "I need to speak with Harry about Annabelle, she was limping slightly this morning and I need to make sure that she is in shape for upcoming games.

The duchess pierced him with a look, trying to discern the truth of his words. He kept himself as indifferent to her scrutiny as possible.

She waved an bejewelled hand in elegantly in acceptance. "Fine darling but make certain you are back here on time."

He wolfed down the last of his breakfast and stood. "Yes mother." He kissed her on the cheek and then he was gone from the room.

He almost sprinted to his custom golf cart by the side of the house, jumped in and made straight for the pool house close to the polo arena.

Harry Potter, godson of his mother's cousin was the closest thing Draco had to a friend in the vicinity of his own home.

As he arrived, Harry was dancing, of course, to some ridiculous nineties pop wearing only swimming trunks. Draco rolled his eyes. Harry really was way too cheerful for his own good.

But when Harry opened the door, still dancing by the way, Draco couldn't stop his grin from forming. "What the fuck are you doing mate? You look preposterous."

"Morning Drake, wanna dance?" He was still bobbing around with an obnoxiously happy face.

"Fuck no." But his grin was still firmly in place. It was difficult not to like Harry. His exuberance was infecting.

Harry started mainly dancing with his pelvis and his head. "Your loss mate, it a great way to start the day."

Draco had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Really? The Backstreet Boys are a great way to start the day?"

The dancing man rolled his eyes. "You grump. There's nothing wrong with nineties pop. Its fun!"

Draco sat down on the too low sofa, sprawling his six foot three frame in the small room. It seemed like the incessant bobbing would never stop. "Would you discontinue that excessive bobbing? I have to ask you something."

Harry merely continued making his smoothie, pouring two glasses and sitting down on the sofa with Draco and looked at him, waiting for him to speak. Draco took a sip of the concoction. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't tell Harry as much. He was much too confident about his smoothies as it was. Instead, he dove straight in. "It seems I've received a letter from a friend of yours."

Harry smirked knowingly. "Oh really? Who?"

Draco wasn't fooled by Harry's attempt at innocence. "Hermione Granger."

The smirk turned to a grin. "Well, that didn't take her long."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

The grin became more knowing and oddly, Draco wished he was in on the secret too. "We were in school together and she was always ahead. Worrying about the final exams before Easter, that sort of thing. Brilliant too. Hermione and her brother could rule the world if they wanted to."

Draco rolled his eyes. "So she's an overachiever?"

Harry chuckled through his grin. "Oh she's a swot alright, but in a good way. You'll see when she gets here."

Draco narrowed his eyes, not liking that Harry already knew that he would probably accept her. But why wouldn't he like that though? "What if I reject her?"

Harry shrugged. "That's up to you of course but she is a great horsewoman. You've got a good base to work with."

Draco nodded, he reckoned as much from her letter. But he needed to know more about her. "The seal, where do I know it from?"

This brought another grin to Harry's face. "She the only daughter of Baron Heathgate. Their seat is by the river Severn north of Bristol. She was even a debutante some years back."

Draco almost sucked in a breath. If she had been chosen as a debutante, she must be beautiful, graceful and rich beyond measure. Draco bit back the mass of questions he had clawing at his throat about this woman.

Harry continued, blissfully unaware of Draco's rampaging thoughts. "And of course, you know her brother Will Granger from Eton. He was a couple of years ahead of you."

He tried to compose his countenance and he tried very hard not to let Harry know just how curious he was. He desperately tried to wrack his brain about her brother. Wait… "William Granger? The brainiac? That's her brother? But we didn't even know he had a title."

Harry nodded. "The very same. He doesn't have a title, he's the heir to the Heathgate title which, to him, is probably two vastly different things. In that way, Hermione and Will are very much alike. They can be somewhat literal."

Draco huffed, so many things he had to think about. "She's written about a friend she wants to join her. A Ginny Weasley? Is that one of children of Viscount Catchpole?"

Harry nodded. "They don't have money for your kind of fees though. Hermione's mum and dad must be footing the bill. But Ginny isn't that great with horses as Hermione. I just think Hermione wants company."

Draco wondered what to do. He itched to accept Hermione Granger if she was indeed as good as Harry said. And Harry had impeccable judgment when it came to equestrian skills. A casual comment of 'a good base' from Harry, meant nothing less than perfection and Draco just had to apply it to the game.

But then again, he wasn't interested in having a hanger-on on the grounds. One who couldn't even ride well and a daughter of an impoverished viscount to boot. She could be trouble.

Harry stood and shrugged, not caring either way about Draco's decision. Harry knew that he had no say in the decisions of who came and went through the facility, he cared mostly about the ponies they brought with them.

At just over six feet, Harry wasn't short but somehow Draco seemed to tower over him when they stood next to each other. Draco was sure it was the way each of them carried themselves.

Harry grinned. "Fancy a dip?" He said it with a wink which made Draco try to get up immediately. Harry pushed him back on the sofa with a laugh. And he was off, Harry tore through the small room towards the pool and threw himself in a ball into the pool, splashing water everywhere.

Draco laughed and joined him in the pool seconds later, having discarded most of his clothing on the way. Harry really knew how to ensure that he also enjoyed life. Draco had always been so serious, a trait he inherited from his father and growing up he hadn't laughed much.

At school, where he had met most of his friends, it was somewhat rectified but they were all people with responsibilities, estates and people dependant on them in some way or another. They were all serious people.

Harry was free from all that.

He lived comfortably in the Dartmoor Manor pool house. A small house fitted with a bathroom and then kitchen, sitting room and bedroom all in one. It was simple but comfortable. One wall of the pool house was made completely of glass doors, facing the pool and making sundowns stunning from the comfort of his sofa. It had been placed facing west deliberately, with the pool only in partial shade in the mornings.

And Harry loved living here, taking care of the ponies and living life to his own standards.

Draco found that he was jealous of just how carefree Harry could be sometimes.

They swam in the pool for as long as Draco possibly could. Having fun with Harry was an escape from his duties but the escape never lasted long.

Too soon, he was back at the manor and walking towards his fitting for multiple outfits. Everything from morning suits and tuxedos to jeans, polo shirts and t-shirts. The duchess was taking no chances.

Their family would not, under any circumstances, advertise for any companies. All of their clothes was made to measure without exception. All brands on their phones were removed and all accessories were made by hand by smaller businesses without brand names anywhere to be found.

As his mother usually put it; they weren't vulgar billboards for the companies to promote their products. Draco thought it might be taking it a bit too far but he complied, because that was the only choice when it came to Narcissa Malfoy.

The fitting was tedious in the extreme. It took hours followed by a lunch break and more hours. The apprentice was a babbling and clumsy man at about the same age as Draco and he seemed familiar in some way. He peered at him closer but he decided he didn't recognize him.

After dinner he was itching to get to the stables. He needed to get rid of the pent up energy from his inactive day.

And he needed to figure out what to do about miss Hermione Granger and her friend.