Chapter 5

A dress flew through the room and landed in Hermione's groggily sleeping face.

She grunted drowsily and blinked at the turquoise fabric currently obscuring her vision.

When she finally untangled herself, her mum was standing in the doorway wearing a bathrobe and with her makeup half done. "Get up darling, we're going to Aintree today. It's the first of the three seasonal events that I'll choose. Don't forget you have to do seven this season."

Hermione fell back into her pillows with a loud groan.

Her mum just swished out the door with, "We leave at nine darling! And don't forget to choose a hat."

It had been years since Hermione had considered hiding in her bed but today she seriously thought about it. When nothing happened for a few moments, she sighed.

She really didn't want to go to Aintree but she had made a deal with her mum. She heaved another huge sigh and got up.

There was no use in being defiant about this. She had basically made a deal with the devil when it came to her mum and the Season.

Later, when they were all packed into the private plane, because her mum had insisted that the entire family go and support Hermione in her re-entry to society, she thought about just how large the industry of primping misses for the Season was.

Personally, Hermione thought it was a wee bit overkill. Her entire family was dressed to the nines and the turquoise dress she was wearing fit right in. After her shower, she had been pulled, prodded, stuffed and attacked by a team of people who would make her fancy. She'd read a book while they did their job.

Her hair was always the biggest problem. It was long, thick and wavy but not in that gorgeous way, no no. It was in a haystack kind of way. A way that had the posh hairstylist cursing filthily within the first five minutes.

They'd crafted her hairstyle with the fascinator integrated so Hermione actually had to stoop to enter and exit the plane and in and out of the car.

But she had to admit that the effect was spectacular. Her hair was swept back from her face in a large, yet loose up do and they had teased out a few baby curls to frame her face. Her dress was made of flowy fabric that was both very comfortable to wear, yet showed off her every curve to its advantage. The navy fascinator with small turquoise flowers finished the look.

The makeup made certain that her eyes looked twice their normal size and her lips were plumped to barely within their very limits. She just hoped that she wouldn't get too sore feet after the ordeal that was this day. The navy shoes may have a platform but with the heels over five inches, she couldn't wait for the day to be over, even before it had begun.

Draco was ready. Or as ready as he would ever be when facing the press and the public.

He knew that aunt Lucretia was waiting for him and he had the protection of being in a group. Blaise was here with Theo and so was Pansy, Daphne and Astoria.

But the time it took for everyone to just fucking leave their hotel rooms was a goddam production all on its fucking own.

Blaise slept in, no wonder with the amount of whisky he had imbibed the night before, Pansy threw a hissy fit and needed a new hairdresser stat and something was wrong with Daphne's hat.

At long last, an hour too late, they were on their way to the VIP entrance of the Princess Royal Stand.

The chatter in their minibus was deafening. Ladies Day at the Grand National at Aintree Racecourse wasn't just a race-day. It was an event. A proper society event and one of the first of the season.

He expected to be swarmed by match-making mamas' and he knew both Theo and Blaise expected the same. Theo was already a duke and Draco was in line to become one, but Blaise had an interesting title. He was a Marchese. It was an Italian version of marquess, yet it was only a curtesy title and had been since Italy became a republic in the mid-forties.

However, Blaise didn't give a shite about any of it. He had a title and estates in many countries that he could pass down to his firstborn and he was filthy rich. As in, Richie Rich-rich as he was once described by an American gossip rag.

And then there were Pansy, Daphne and Astoria. Pansy was the daughter of a Marquess and the debutante of the year when she had her debut. There was no doubt that Pansy was strikingly beautiful but Draco had always thought of her more as a cousin. And she had an edge. The same way a viper was beautiful and behaved somewhat irrationally, to a human anyway.

Daphne and Astoria were sisters and daughters of the Duke of Scarborough and despite their father's gruesome appearance, they were both beautiful to the extremes. Almost perfect. Yet, somehow, neither of them had ever appealed to Draco as more than friends. Thank fuck because they could be absolutely barmy at times.

They were all tight friends, flaws and all, and that was the most important thing.

In total, the six of them together at an event had the capacity to create absolute pandemonium, which often happened in the clubs they frequented but a society event was something other. He didn't even want to think about the frenzy that would begin when they arrived.

Draco was very pleased that they were in his aunt's private box for the day. It meant that they had a refuge if they needed it.

The ladies were handed out first and he had to admit that they all looked spectacular.

The flashes began, it would seem that the press was out in force. He ground his teeth as he waited to exit the fancy ride they called a minibus and when it was his turn, he plastered on that same boring expression that he usually wore whenever he was in public.

Showtime.

Hermione kept on reminding herself of those so called 'important' rules of society that her mum had drilled into her. Don't smile to widely, be demure yet interesting, excuse yourself from any conversation involving politics and most importantly of all; don't slouch.

She was currently listening to some young buck who was vying for her attention. He was yabbing on and on about some dot-com company that he'd built. She seriously doubted the truth in his words, he seemed much too smug and arrogant about it, as though he was taking credit for someone else's work. She'd already forgotten his name, it was Gildilocks or something.

And it didn't matter. She wouldn't want anything more to with him after this.

But something was happening behind her.

A commotion.

And a shiver rippled slowly down her spine. She stiffened.

Suddenly, she was hyper aware of both herself and her surroundings and she instinctively knew what she would find when she turned around.

Draco.

He was here.

Her turn was slow and calculated. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she would see.

Everything around her faded and she wasn't disappointed.

Draco Malfoy was nothing less than perfection personified. In her eyes anyway. Except for that bored expression of his.

He was tall, angular and athletic but the angularity of him only added to his immense appeal.

She froze, not knowing what to do with herself. Like a deer caught in headlights. Despite all of her inner mayhem, he didn't even notice that she was there.

Being hyper aware of everything around her, she noticed all of the little things about him. His arrogance, his disdain, his impatience with all of the people around him who desperately wanted to speak with him. It was like a clamour.

Now that she really looked, that bored expression seemed more like haughtiness and distinct annoyance.

It instantly left a sour taste in her mouth.

He didn't talk with anyone, they spoke to him and he didn't truly reply. He placated and moved on.

She wondered at his aloofness, especially when it was in direct contrast to his two friends who were right there with him in the midst of the chaos they had created merely with their arrival. They were smiling, friendly, outgoing and polite to those around them and they extracted themselves just as efficiently from the people around them as he had.

He was not friendly or outgoing in any way.

She knew rationally that there were explanations. That he acted like that for a reason. Or maybe she just hoped.

She couldn't watch it anymore so she turned her back on him and walked purposefully towards the box the rest of her family was in, ignoring Goldilocks the entire time.

She had to get away from that scene. She didn't know where the bile in her throat came from and she hated that she was getting emotional about it.

All of those daydreams came crashing down around her and still, she hadn't even met him!

Breathe.

Breathe.

Don't do anything rash.

Remember the rules from mum. And don't slouch.

Just breathe.

Having regained some of equilibrium, she sat down next to her brother with a glass of champagne in her hand. He watched her dubiously. "What happened to you?"

She sniffed. "Nothing, I just ran in to some unpleasant suiters, that's all."

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, as if gauging the truth of her reply, before shrugging. It was basically his standard reply to anything he didn't know how to answer properly.

It took her another thirty minutes of watching the crowds and races silently to sort out her mind. It was straight forward really. She was already chastising herself for her foolishness.

A crush should remain as such until you got to know the object of your crush but for some stupid reason, she had taken her crush beyond that.

Draco hadn't done a thing wrong, except possibly being himself and acting the same as he always did when he was in public. She wouldn't know because she didn't actually know him! Even if she had sometimes, naively, imagined that she did.

She couldn't believe that she had let herself live in that dreamland for so long.

But no more.

Her brother rose from beside her to greet someone and she ignored the exchange. It wasn't uncommon that people stopped by their box looking for all sorts of advice from her dad and from Will. With her dad's head for business and Will's vast knowledge of basically everything, they were quite a formidable pair.

She tuned into the conversation just in time. "And this is my younger sister, miss Hermione Granger."

She stood, as protocol demanded and time seemed to stop. It was Blaise Zabini, Draco's friend. One of his best friends. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her slight pause. Except maybe Zabini, who's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

He took her hand and kissed the back elegantly. "Miss Granger, it's such an honour to finally meet you. I have heard much about you."

She smiled, hiding her shock that he had chosen to seek out their box. "Likewise my Lord. Not all bad I hope?"

His eyes glittered and she had the strangest feeling that he hadn't come by to see her brother at all. Blaise seemed highly perceptive, so she didn't let her guard down once. "Not at all, and I hope that your friend Harry Potter is a reliable source."

She made a face and he grinned. His grin was infectious and she found herself replying to his non-question. "Harry is a great friend of mine, I can't wait to see him again."

He nodded. "I have heard of your acceptance by the elusive Malfoy heir. You will learn a great deal. His knowledge of the game is outstanding."

She grasped on to this conversational thread as though it was a lifeline. "Do you play yourself?"

At this, his expression became positively wicked. Like the cat who ate the canary. "Ah, the sport of kings. I do indeed miss Granger. I wonder if I can play you at some point."

Hermione snorted a laugh at his blatant attempt at a subtle double entendre. It was so overt that she couldn't stop laughing and he joined in.

She had a feeling she would like Blaise.

Draco barely avoided crushing the champagne flute in his hand in fury.

He had spotted her almost immediately and she took his breath away.

It wasn't so much the way she looked, though he easily recognized that she was gorgeous. He couldn't explain it. His eyes were just drawn to her and he'd never experienced anything like it before.

And she was ignoring him completely.

By the time he had managed to extradite himself from the insistent match-makers, he was fuming silently. He had found safety in the large private box belonging to his great aunt, the Princess Royal herself, Lucretia Black but that also kept her away unfortunately. His aunt immediately smacked him over the head when she approached. "Get out of your head darling, I cannot have you distracted in my presence."

He grinned, he simply couldn't help it, and kissed her cheeks. "How are you my dear aunt?"

She smirked. "I might be old but I most certainly am not blind. Why are you glaring daggers at the handsome Marchese?"

He would never understand it but Blaise had charmed his elderly aunt so thoroughly that she didn't think he could do any wrong. Lucretia Black was around ninety years old and fresh as a daisy. To Draco, she seemed determined to live forever. She had a joyful disposition with a dash of dark humour and she enjoyed the privileges and perks that came with being the aunt to the current King of Great Britain.

Draco shot another glare at Blaise's back. He ground his teeth and tried to be diplomatic. "I am merely wondering why he is speaking to that family aunt. It is unlike him, even despite him knowing the eldest son of the family."

His aunt pursed her lips and he eyes took on a sudden glint. He was weary of her expression. He had the ominous thought that she might be up to something. "And, pray tell, who is that family?"

Well, he knew that there was no way for him to play any sort of games with her. That was one of the reasons he'd always liked her; she was a no-bullshite kind of woman. "It's Baron Heathgate and his family. Their seat is Whitecroft deep in the Forrest of Dean."

His aunt nodded. "I know of the family but have never met them. Why would the Marchese talking to the daughter of the Baron make you irate? Am I detecting jealousy perhaps?"

Draco felt a pang somewhere in his stomach. Of course. He was jealous of Blaise's easy way of introducing himself to strangers and especially of Hermione's reaction to him. They seemed to become bosom buddies within two minutes of talk. Fucking two minutes.

And why the hell was Blaise talking with her anyway?!

Draco had literally just had the thought, when Blaise looked up and gave him a wink and a wicked smirk.

He couldn't watch them anymore. He turned his back and focused on his aging aunt. He hadn't seen her in months and he had truly missed her.

Unfortunately, she had noticed the entire exchange between him and Blaise and now she was watching his face carefully. He forced a smile to form and put her arm through the crook of his own. "Shall we go place our bets aunt?"

She accepted his blatant distraction with a knowing quirk of her lips. "Yes my darling. Lets."

Hermione watched them over the hours she was forced to spend at the racetrack. She did her utmost to not look too bored with the people around her and not look too interested in the people in the Royal box.

Specifically Draco, Blaise and their friends.

Blaise had been very charming. Overly charming in fact. She was suspicious of all of them. Why would Blaise Zabini all of a sudden want an introduction to her?

She was sure that they kept shooting glances at her, especially the three men.

Why oh why did it have to feel so awkward? And why had her dad insisted on buying a box so damned close to the royal box?

She needed some sort of a distraction and looked around at her family, all of them deep in conversation with some person who was probably important for the British economy. The common denominator was that they all had drinks in their hands.

She nodded to herself and got up. A drink it was.

Goldilocks came back and caught her at the bar, it turned out that his name was Gilderoy Lockhart as he cheerfully reminded her several times. He was handsome but much too pompous for her likes. How she wished that she was invisible sometimes.

The whiskey soothed her sour mood. She couldn't really explain it but she was irrationally annoyed. It didn't help that Lockhart kept on prattling at her about some book that he was writing because she couldn't think.

When Lockhart was finally called away by an acquaintance, she was relieved but the relief didn't last for long.

Standing behind one of the large plants that gave the round bar a feel of corners, someone talking about her. Someone familiar. She felt a chill edge down her spine.

"I can't believe he would ever give so much attention to someone like that. I mean, she practically a commoner for Pete's sake. Why Draco would ever accept her and one of the Weasley's to actually stay on Malfoy grounds? Between them, they will violate and pollute the calm beauty of Dartmoor Manor." The snort of a laugh followed this horrid statement.

Pansy Parkinson.

Could this day, this first of seven bloody outings into the shit-show that was the Season, get any worse?

Hermione left before hearing the reply of whoever was back there with Pansy. By the sounds of the giggles, she was with one or more women and she had no need to find out who.

So she fled to her family's box, which was full of strangers talking to her family, of course.

She took a deep breath. Would this day ever end?

Draco was ready to throttle someone. Anyone.

Pansy was holding court with Daphne, Astoria and some mindless daughters of the aristocracy out by the bar and he was sure that they were talking about Hermione Granger.

When he returned to the box, Blaise had widely and loudly proclaimed that Hermione Granger was very charming and a true beauty, which had set off Draco to no end. Especially when she became a topic between the young dandies vying to gain favour with his aunt.

He couldn't help himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" He hissed at Blaise, when he was finally approached by the smug bastard himself.

Blaise however, didn't seem to give a shite about what Draco thought, so he just shrugged indifferently but that smug smirk hadn't left his expression since he returned from the Granger-box. "She is fucking fit isn't she? I can't wait to see her riding astride mate."

The crass comment only increased Draco's craving to throttle someone. Especially Blaise.

Decorum suddenly seemed completely redundant. As if it didn't matter anymore.

The rage that was surging through Draco was swallowing him up from inside out. Blaise had already walked away but Draco didn't seem to register it. He shouldn't feel this protective or this possessive about her. She was a stranger. A complete and utter stranger.

The red haze that surrounded him was stifling in its frenzy.

A hand placed right between his shoulder blades snapped him back to reality and his great aunt appeared at his shoulder with a knowing smile. "I thought I told you to snap out of it. I've just won my bet darling. Please escort me to collect my winnings."

He extended his arm to her, grateful for the distraction. He took a deep breath and kissed her cheek. "I would be honoured to escort you, my dear aunt."

The walk to the betting booth was short but it took a long time to get there. Everyone wanted to speak with either his aunt or himself. In the end they got there but by that time, Draco was grinding his teeth. Again.

He'd had nine implications of marriage. Ten if you counted the elderly Countess who insisted that he must marry her granddaughter. Needless to say, Draco had no intentions of marrying a girl who was almost twenty years his junior no matter how long he waited. Just no.

His aunt was chuckling as she collected her winnings. "You know my dear? You will never catch a wife with that grumpy expression."

He was just about to open his mouth to reply when he looked up.

There she was.

She was standing in line to collect her winnings three booths down. And she was looking straight at him.

Everything fell away. Everyone fell away.

He couldn't hear, see or feel anything but her.

But maybe she didn't feel the same because she had the presence of mind to move forward and collect her winnings. Though perhaps with some hesitancy.

He forced himself to stay put. He couldn't just run from escorting a princess, no matter where he was. Especially his aunt. His mother would have his hide if she'd known he had even considered it for a moment.

With her winnings safely in her bag, she turned to go but not before looking at him again. Her eyes were brown but to him they shone with and almost golden glow. She gave him the smallest of smiles before she turned and walked away.

And he just stood there watching her. Like an idiot.

The Princess Royal, Lucretia Black, was not an obtuse person. One could probably say that she was quite an astute person. And despite her advanced age, she was still as quick-witted as when she was twenty.

She watched her favourite nephew freeze and she followed his line of sight to a somewhat familiar girl close by.

Lucretia narrowed her eyes at her and then she got it! The Granger girl. The one the darling Marchese had been speaking to and about. Indeed, she had become quite the topic of conversation between the young men in her box.

And she was also the one that Draco had watched like a hawk from her box.

Interesting.