A/N: Another Thursday, another chapter and I hope that I can keep up but sadly, I'm not a fast writer with a full-time job and two darling (but chaotic) children. I'm almost done with chapter 8, but I'm just not as far ahead as I would like, which means that I can't promise that I have another chapter ready for you every Thursday. Sometimes I might have to skip a week or two, but I'm working on it!

Stay safe out there!

HBSJ

Chapter 6

It turned out that the three-month stay didn't include weekends as such. She'd spoken with Harry the day after she got her letter from Draco. They were welcome to stay at the estate during the weekends but all training would be strictly during the weekdays.

She could go home if she wanted to or needed to. But would she want to?

As she packed her things, she wondered how it was going to be when she got there. Harry had told her that they were staying at the dowager house, whatever kind of place that meant. But it was close to him and to the stables, so she couldn't complain.

And then she wondered about Draco.

Endlessly.

And utterly uselessly.

Rationally, she knew that it probably would be a complete disappointment to actually meet him. Especially after seeing his disdain at the Grand National. Though Harry didn't help much. Just the day before he'd sent her a picture of him and Draco lounging by the pool. Both of them were half naked. Hermione's heart stuttered and thumped when she saw it.

She had to stop this. Her crush from afar was getting out of hand.

Even despite the way he'd been acting at Aintree, she was still dreaming about him. Especially his eyes. She could just drown in them.

She ground her teeth and kept on packing, wondering what she should actually bring. Her ponies had been transported there along with all of her equipment two days ago and Harry was caring for them. Hermione had even gotten her parents to loan all the equipment and ponies that Ginny would need and she hoped that Ginny would get along with all of the ponies Hermione had chosen for her. They were all excellent ponies but it would probably depend on Ginny's mood of the day, ponies could sense the mood of their rider easily.

As she kept on packing, she was second-guessing every piece of clothing in her suitcases.

It had nothing to do with Draco. Of course not. It had nothing to do with him. But she did meticulously go through her bikinis to choose just the right one. The same with all of her dresses. But still, it wasn't about him. Of course not.

It took her a moment but eventually she shook herself out of it and got on with it. She needed to sort out her clothes for several different kinds of occasions. Riding, running, lounging, swimming, cocktailing and dining. And raining. It was England after all.

Harry had advised her to observe formal dress if they were invited to dine in the manor itself, as they wore their normal clothes for cocktails but dressed for dinner. Other than that, Harry said that everyone wore whatever they wanted as long as it wasn't raunchy. The Duchess didn't believe in raunchy of any kind.

Hermione had informed Ginny at once and she had only giggled. "Hermione, don't be so dull, they'll all love what I bring." Somehow, Hermione wasn't so certain of that but she kept her hopes up. Ginny really was very beautiful and she had so much confidence in her appearance no matter what she wore, which Hermione envied rather a lot.

But she couldn't think about all of that now. She was set to leave in just ten short hours. Ginny would be here the next day at nine thirty and they were driving in Hermione's car there after they'd said their goodbyes.

She couldn't sleep that night, but determined as she was to put it all out of her mind, she pulled out a book, The History of Polo, because it had really become one of her favourite books. She'd bought it recently but she'd already read it twice. She was determined to know everything there was to know about polo before she went to Dartmoor and then she could focus on the physical aspects of the sport.

But she was nervous as hell. Did she have everything?

She had to have everything. Otherwise, she had to go back and it might not be that long of a drive but she was curiously reluctant to go back and forth too often.

At some point during the night, she must had drifted off because she awoke blearily to the shrill tones of her phone that was ringing and buzzing somewhere under her duvet. She fumbled around for it, still half asleep until she finally found it.

"Hello!" It was a very cheerful Harry with background music of some vaguely familiar boyband. 98 Degrees perhaps?

She frowned at the phone. "Why are you this excited?" Her voice was still groggy from sleep.

"Because you're arriving today and your favourite filly is just a darling. I've tucked her nice and tight in our best stall. Though I have mixed emotions about your grey stallion. I know he's great for bursts of speed but he's a handful." He sounded so cheerful that his blabbering woke her up.

She groaned and turned over in her bed. "What time is it?"

He hesitated and she heard a machine of some sort turn off in the background. And finally he spoke. "It… is… smoothie-time!"

She grinned. "Lord you sound gay."

He wilfully misunderstood. "I'm usually happy, if that's what you mean. And no, I very much prefer all women except you. You're much more in the sister-category."

She sat up slowly, finally her brain was whirring to life. "Well maybe you should experiment?" She loved joking around with Harry.

He laughed heartily along with her. "I have, it's fun but not for me." She gulped and he laughed harder. He'd only just gotten started teasing her it seemed. "But I am looking forward to showing you off, I think you'll like it here."

She stretched luxuriously and looked at her bedside clock lazily. It was eight thirty. She sat up like a springboard. "Shite. I have to go." The last thing she heard was Harry roaring with laughter.

She hung up, jumped out of her bed and began running around her room to gather up all of her stuff. All of the stuff that she was sure she'd have time to pack that morning.

Double-shite.

A mad-dash though the shower and final checks had her finished and outside only five minutes later than planned.

And there was no Ginny in sight.

Her parents and Will had all come to see her off to Dartmoor, with Will promising solemnly that he would be right there with her for all of the events she chose to attend. Right, the Season. She wanted to groan. In all of her excitement about going to Dartmoor, she had blissfully forgotten about that wretched hackle.

Her dad hugged and kissed her and her mum, true to form, admonished her posture while telling her how much she loved her.

Her mum was a conundrum in her ability to be warm and loving and yet aristocratic and strict. There was no doubt that she would miss her mum completely while she was away, right along with the rest of her family.

Then they loaded her suitcase and duffle bag into the roomy boot and she was ready.

And still, Ginny was nowhere to be seen. So she dug out her phone and called her. All she got was a busy signal.

There was nothing for it, Hermione would just have to go get her. She hugged all of her family again and drove off toward the Burrow, as the Catchpole Estate was known locally.

It was a topsy-turvy mansion of sorts with a number of dilapidated turrets. It looked, correctly, as if every Viscount Weasley through the ages had added their own part to the building while completely disregarding the style in which it was originally designed. No one really understood how it could stay standing up and it was visible for miles since it was taller than it was wide. But the Burrow had been standing for centuries, despite all appearances that it would topple over in the slightest breeze.

The drive was short and she relaxed into her endlessly comfortable car. It was one of the few luxuries she had entirely to herself. It had been a gift on her twenty-fifth birthday from her parents. A gorgeous and sleek German sedan that just ate the miles on the roads.

So it took no more than twenty minutes before she was parked outside the Burrow and Ginny came rushing out. "I'm so sorry 'Mione, please forgive me but I can't go with you just yet."

Hermione frowned. "What? We got the acceptance two weeks ago, aren't you packed yet?"

Ginny smirked mischievously. "Well, yes and no. All of the things I have here are ready to go but I haven't got everything I've ordered yet."

Hermione was just about to reply when Ginny cut her off. "And you haven't got room in car for all of my things either." Ginny gave her car a dubious glance.

At this, Hermione spluttered. "Are you kidding me? This car is massive! It has loads of space!"

Ginny just shrugged. "Well, I actually have six suitcases already and I'm expecting two more when I get the dresses I've ordered so Fred and George will take me in their old pick up truck in a day or two. It just seems easier."

Hermione couldn't believe it. They had free access to go back and forth between Dartmoor and home and they began their training the very next day. "They're expecting us to be ready for our first session tomorrow."

Ginny sighed whistfully. "Yes,-" Her voice was soft. "-that dreamy marquess." She even visibly shivered. Hermione gagged just slightly at her antics. "He will have to wait just a few days. I won't be going there until I am presentable at all times."

Fred and George came out, effectively stilting the glare that Hermione threw at Ginny. "'Mione! We've been wondering when you'd come by to pick up this riff-raff." Ginny scowled at them. Fred continued. "Did you also bring sixteen cocktail dresses? Or is it just our Ginny here?"

George fell in. "Or maybe the five ball gowns, pressed with frills and lace and everything in between. No?"

Hermione's annoyance fell away like a discarded cloak and she began grinning. "No, I didn't."

The twins shrugged with matching grins and Fred said. "Shame. Frills and lace would be just your thing. There's even tassels on one of them. I counted them, fifteen tassels in all. Including one right between her knockers." He pointed his own chest as if to prove a point. Hermione tried very hard not to grin.

George grabbed Ginny and she huffed but didn't say much. George didn't have that same inclination. "Our baby sister here fancies herself a duchess! Can you believe it 'Mione?"

Both twins guffawed at Ginny's expense and Hermione felt herself becoming uncomfortable, though outwardly she forced her smile to stay in place. After all, didn't she fancy Draco herself? She wisely kept that bit of information from both the twins and Ginny.

Ron came out, he was almost running towards them with his eyes strangely intent on her. Hermione almost wanted to take a few steps back but she forced herself to stay in place. "Hey Hermione, how are you?" His eyes had taken on a dreamy yet selfish quality that she didn't care for.

It was strange but Ron had always rubbed her the wrong way. He was too possessive of her for no apparent reason. They had never been anything more than just classmates at school. She smiled somewhat strained. "Fine Ron, and you?"

He grinned with a dazed sort of expression and Ginny had finally managed to wrestle herself free of the twins beside them. "Listen all of you. I don't have time for this, I have a nail appointment in one hour in town and I have three fittings before tea." She turned to Hermione with a repentant expression. "Hermione, I really am sorry. I had hoped to be ready today. Can you forgive me, please?"

Hermione smiled again, this time genuinely. Ginny could be frivolous and seem rather young but she had good sides too. "Of course I can. I'll see you in a couple of days."

Ginny beamed at her. "And tell Harry I can't wait to know all of the secrets of Dartmoor and that I'm so sorry I'll be late."

Hermione just shook her head indulgently and gave her a brief hug before getting back into the car. She said her goodbyes and the car rumbled quietly into life.

Just before she was about to leave, Ginny shot forward. "Wait!" She had a dramatic streak so Hermione wasn't surprised when a heavily scented envelope was thrust in the passenger side window of the car. "Would you give this to Draco for me? I couldn't bear to leave him waiting for me without an explanation."

Hermione smiled stiffly and just nodded. She didn't know what else to say to that kind of statement, so it seemed like a reasonable response.

As she waved goodbye to the Weasleys, she wondered how arriving without Ginny as a buffer would be. She wasn't brave or anything like that and actually meeting Draco scared the wits out of her.

As she hit the motorway south, she took a deep breath.

She could do this. Alone. Somehow.

Draco was sitting in his room staring resolutely away from his stables, the Dowager House and the treeline where the pool house was.

Hermione Granger had arrived by now, he knew it. He had arranged it so that Harry would meet her and the Weasley-girl at the stables and then take them to the Dowager House. Draco was itching to go but he would never want seem eager in any way. It just wasn't done.

He could feel restlessness in every one of his bones and he tried, in vein, to keep his mind occupied on the newspaper in front of him. He needed a distraction. Anything.

There was a knock at his door. "Enter."

Hobson walked in, carrying a silver platter suspiciously far away from himself. Draco almost threw the man a grin but thought the better of it. Hobson took his job very seriously.

He bowed and extended his arm carrying the platter towards Draco. "A letter has arrived for you my lord."

Draco inhaled once and began coughing. A pungent odour clung to the obscenely pink letter as if it had been drenched in it. "Dear Lord Hobson, how long have you been in possession of this thing?"

Hobson remained stoic as always. "Too long my lord." He paused and Draco grinned. Hobson had a brilliant sense of dry wit. "According to the groom, it arrived with miss Granger. I hasten to add that she arrived alone, as opposed to your expectations and preparations my lord."

Draco blinked once. That was… unexpected.

And distinctly annoying.

He clearly recalled specifying the date in the letter sent to them and training began the following day. No exceptions.

Miss Weasley was not off to good start it seemed.

Draco took the letter with a healthy measure of reluctance. The stench really was revolting and he sincerely hoped that the letter would be brief and to the point so he could burn it at his earliest convenience.

"Thank you Hobson." Hobson bowed again and left without another word.

He wrenched the letter open, weary of what he would find inside. He could only hope that it wasn't from Granger.

As it turned out, it wasn't.

Dearest Draco.

I am so so SO sorry that I can't come with Hermione today. But I'm sure you'll understand once I explain, because there really is nothing to it and I can't think you'll teach us anything important in the first couple of days. I mean, we have to settle in first and everything.

So, the reason why I'm late to visit you is that I need more dresses. I mean, I need to have something for every occasion right? I can't imagine your mum would like it if I didn't have a proper cocktail dress, right?

Anyway, I can't wait to see you soon and meet your family and everyone at Dartmoor.

XOXO and much love from Ginny.

It wasn't often that Draco found himself dumbfounded, but this was one of those times.

What the actual fuck was that thing masquerading as a letter? He balled up the pink pungent missive and threw it directly into the flames roaring in the fireplace with grim satisfaction. Unfortunately, that scent seemed to spread to his entire suite of rooms with the heat from the grate.

He felt nauseous and the smell lingered on his hands and clothing. There was nothing for it. He got up and threw open three large windows before he wrenched his clothes off and practically ran to the bathroom.

Later, as the water cascaded over his now cleaned body, he marvelled at the difference between the two women.

He had never experienced anyone address him with such unwelcome familiarity, it was completely and utterly absurd and aggravating in equal measures. This meant that miss Weasley was off to an even worse start than he'd thought just moments earlier, before he read that wretched letter.

And what about miss Granger? She had obviously arrived, carrying that foul thing with her. He almost felt sorry for her, having to drive with it in a confined space all the way down to Dartmoor.

The phrasing was that you shouldn't shoot the messenger but perhaps it would be the right thing to distance himself from these two women. If Granger was friends with such a person as Ginny Weasley, he had to question her sanity.

But deep within, he knew that he only really wanted to distance himself from one of them. And the other was here now. However, he should be careful. Granger and Weasley were friends and it would be atrocious if his actions gave either of them cause to expect courtship or even marriage.

Despite this, he was quite certain that he could manage to balance friendliness with distance. He was, after all, a grown man. Surely he could do that.

He turned around in the shower, soaping up again a third time for good measure. He took his time, thinking about what to do. He could go and see how she was settling in, just as Weasley herself had suggested. He could go there just to check on her. He could.

In fact, he probably should. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do. And it certainly wouldn't raise any expectations of anything, he was just being an attentive host.

Excitement coursed through him and he rushed out of the bathroom, dried off and dressed as quickly as possible. He grinned and had to stop himself from running out the door, distance be damned.