Chapter 6: Just Politics

Sleep evaded Hermione the past night and with good reason too. After the intense showdown with Draco in front of the Slytherin Common Room, it was to be expected she would toss and turn, replaying the previous events in her head endlessly. But her life experience had come in handy. Usually, she would answer confrontations with a rebellious attitude but years working under pressure at the Ministry taught her how to deal with situations in a calm and collected manner. She had always been secretly intimidated by men and had felt she was tasked to work twice as hard to get taken seriously but luckily for her, being faced with powerful individuals daily had impacted her in a highly rewarding manner.

She had returned to the past with a knowledge reservoir and confidence that had taken her years to hone. So Malfoy could go ahead and come at her with everything he had, she was prepared. She now knew how to respond to a man's challenge. She had weapons and tricks she could employ. And she would not allow him to have the upper hand, especially when he was just a broken boy whose pieces had fallen into her hands to put back together. And she would gladly do so if it meant a better outcome in the future.

With newfound strength, Hermione threw off the covers and jumped off her bed, ready to take on the day, dark circles be damned. She attended the classes as per usual, aware there would be no joint lessons with Slytherins and had spent her day with Harry, Ron and Ginny, enjoying the break from Malfoy. He didn't even attend breakfast or lunch but it was fine, more power to her. She would gather all mental strength for Slughorn's dinner.

Hours later, Hermione returned to her room and started getting ready for the evening, thinking back on the attire she had chosen in her past. She remembered putting together something uninspired like a dusty pink sweater and pants.

Absolutely dreadful choice, Hermione, she thought to herself. But then again, it was not as if she had anyone else to impress other than Professor Slughorn. However, this time, Draco was going to attend and she could feel it in her bones that he would dress up. Not for ulterior reasons but simply because that was his second nature. Only the finest silks and best of materials would touch that milky skin. His upbringing would demand class for any type of formal occasion and if she had had the experience herself, Hermione would have followed his example from early on. She had been ignorant enough to think that women only needed intelligence and wit to succeed and indeed they did but no one turns their head after an insipid woman who never puts in the effort. No one remembers the plain but all recall the beautiful.

It took years for her to dress up and when she eventually did and naturally caught the eyes of so many wizards, she was already married and pregnant. The first time she dawned a revealing dress, wore makeup and arranged her hair with intricate pins had also been the first time she witnessed males rendered speechless at her sight. Even Ron felt uncomfortable with the attention his wife was garnering. Who knew beauty could have such power?

She would harness that power that evening. If Draco Malfoy did not find it important to remember her, then she would do everything within her means to make him notice her and take her seriously. And she had just the dress for it. A few days ago, she asked her parents to send her a specific piece which arrived just in time for the evening. Deep crimson tones accentuated the line of her chosen dress, striking the perfect balance between classic elegance and alluring charm. With a babydoll silhouette, the dress was both flirty and sophisticated, featuring an empire waist that gently cinched just below the bust, allowing the fabric to cascade gracefully down. Years into adulthood, Hermione had learned what suited her best and how to enhance her most redeeming features. For instance, aside from tailoring tricks, she also knew that maroon lipstick suited her dangerously well, while mascara and soft eyeshadow completed a look that would make anyone's heart skip a beat. Hermione added the finishing touches to her hair and took a step back to admire herself in the mirror. The old her would have never chosen such a dress but what did old Hermione know? She barely had the courage to tell Ron how she felt. But she would have been secretly envious of the confidence she had acquired at present.

Nodding to herself in the mirror, she left her dormitory and met Harry outside of their Common Room. She knew she had made the right choice when she saw Harry's mouth open slightly in awe, unable to express his own emotions.

"Hermione…wow…you look…uhm…"

"I don't look strange or anything, right?" She asked innocently, reveling in Harry's candid outburst. He was head over heels for Ginny but his reaction did reassure her she was properly dressed for war.

"No, of course not! You look brilliant!" Harry concluded, giving Hermione a full twirl. "Sorry, I'm not used to seeing you like this."

"I know," Hermione said, smiling in understanding. "I actually realized I love dressing up," she added. And should have done it more often, she added mentally, thinking back to all of her lost opportunities.

"Well, I can see why," Harry mirrored her smile. "Ready to go?"

"Yes. Professor Slughorn must be waiting for us."

"I heard Malfoy got invited as well," Harry said out of the blue, matching his pace to Hermione's.

"Good," she said, to which Harry turned to regard her again.

"Are you still on about getting close to him, Hermione? We haven't settled on an agreement regarding Malfoy yet…"

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes, a bit tensed for having to justify her actions to him or Ron, especially when those two already did as they pleased without asking special permission from her. She could resonate with his worry but at the same time, they needed to start trusting her more.

"Harry, please. I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, but…"

"But nothing! Have you no confidence in me?"

"When you put it that way…"

"Alright, end of discussion," Hermione pressed, truly wishing for that conversation to be over.

"But please…be careful," he told her, eyes sincere and full of concern. "If he really is a Death Eater, he will not hesitate to hurt you. There's nothing they wouldn't do for Voldemort and I don't want you in the middle, Ron would never forgive me. And I would never forgive myself."

"I'll be fine, Harry. You'd be surprised at how capable I am of protecting myself," she told him, believing every word uttered, especially with her wand hidden under her dress, one garter holding it in its secluded place on her leg. Her spell and charm repertoire had expanded over the years, her instincts having perfected at an Auror level. Too bad she had had no chance of putting them to good use apart from signing documents at top speed.

The sudden wave of uneasiness dissipated as soon as they reached Slughorn's quarters. They both entered, the Professor greeting them pleasantly, his attention already focused on Harry. As expected, Draco Malfoy was already there, punctual and perfect. Thankful to see one seat next to him unoccupied, Hermione darted towards the empty chair and, under his analytic stare, she seated herself ceremoniously. She made sure to pound away her awkward walk and employ a more feminine gait, purposefully allowing the Slytherin plenty of time to take her all in.

"Aren't you all dressed up," Draco remarked, his gaze traveling over every little line of her silhouette, his gray eyes finally settling on her own. If he was impressed, Hermione could not tell but since he addressed her first, she suspected he was at least intrigued if not anything else. It was always a delicious victory when your peers suddenly saw a different side of you, interest peaking despite better judgment.

"Look who's talking," she grinned, holding his eye contact. She could sense Harry taking a seat next to her, everything in his demeanor attesting to his uncomfortable state. Not only was he sharing a table with Malfoy but Hermione was between the two of them and her head was turned toward the enemy.

Bloody hell, Hermione. Are you…flirting? Harry gasped internally, noticing the way his female best friend's body was inched towards Malfoy, completely unfamiliar with the new Hermione. Harry didn't even imagine she could conjure that level of lure. He knew she could be pretty, charming, and intelligent but not…seductive. Was that the word? He shook his head, dispelling his worries, reassuring himself that she was probably doing this to get Malfoy's attention and therefore trust. But if she kept at it, matters could get ugly complicated…

Next to them, Draco addressed Hermione again, his obnoxious tone irritating Harry to no end.

"I'm no different than usual," he delivered the blatant lie.

Draco Malfoy was wearing a sleek black suit that fit him impeccably. The suit's jacket was tailored to perfection; it hugged his broad shoulders and narrowed down at the waist, highlighting his lean torso. He chose to wear a crisp white shirt underneath, thus contrasting sharply with the dark suit and the narrow black tie, adding a modern touch to the whole ensemble. The trousers were slim but not tight, tastefully outlining his long legs. Polished black dress shoes completed the outfit, adding an extra touch of elegance.

Hermione was aware she was gawking at him but she simply could not help it. To go even further, she imagined what a treat it would be to watch him dress. Slipping into that fine long-sleeved shirt, arranging his tie, pushing back his slick blonde hair, and much like her, taking a last look in the mirror, not at all surprised to see that comely face staring back at him. Men in suits were Hermione's weakness but to go as far as to envision how it would be to see someone dress or undress, especially him - that concluded she was certainly not right in the head anymore.

It was that stupid dream's fault. If she hadn't dreamt of kissing him, she wouldn't have had those troublesome feelings surging through her whole being. It was also that tutoring session with him; if only he hadn't been so human and capable of conversing with her. Even now, dressed up smartly, looking polished and flawless - it was messing with her heart. It took her a long time to accept that she wasn't as morally intact as she had always hoped. Since Hermione always aimed to be the best, it was only natural for her to demand the same from her partner. Despite her apparent humility, in her other future, she discovered she could see the appeal of money or having nice things and especially, being in positions of power. And if only he hadn't been a Malfoy, if only he had been different…

She stopped her reasoning suddenly. If only, then what? Would she have hit on him? Tried to secure his affections and become his snogging partner at Hogwarts? Was she that far off the trail, she had actually considered Malfoy a desirable partner? She thanked Merlin when Professor Slughorn announced the first course of their dinner, food apparated in front of them, and as a result, put a stop to her alarming thoughts.

Hermione was not one to have an extreme appetite but she did eat well, however, that evening, it was proving particularly difficult for her to chew and swallow her food. She hadn't realized that standing next to Draco meant she would be a million times more aware of her every movement. For a second there, she even had doubts about the proper table etiquette and had to look around and convince herself she was holding her cutlery correctly. Draco did not seem to have the same issue; his back stood erect in a correct posture, hands holding the knife and fork securely as they glided naturally across the plate. He took small bites, never once talked with his mouth open and occasionally paused to have a sip or two of water. A table napkin was resting gently on his legs and his suit jacket had been unbuttoned prior to sitting down, as good manners dictated. He had been properly bred and educated and looking around the table, it seemed only he and Blaise Zabini were poster children for the wealthy.

Hermione tried her best to focus on her food and abstain from committing any blunders. Formal dinners were always stiff, she recalled how difficult it had been for her to adjust every time she was invited to Ministery events and had to prep both Ron and herself for a crash course in protocol. Hermione could barely convince him to wear a suit nevertheless act refined and they always fought before important events, him calling her 'uptight' and her closing off to him for the rest of the day.

She had been so focused on sectioning the perfect bite of steak that her elbow lightly brushed on Malfoy's arm.

"Oh, sorry about that," she hurried to apologize, surprised by the sudden contact.

"No matter," Draco grinned, focused on his own plate. But she did see that mocking smile of his.

"It was an honest slip. I do know I have to keep my elbows within the width of my chair," she whispered to him, unsure as to why she had to justify something so small to him. It was not as if she and Draco would ever attend any formal events together and he would have to worry about her embarrassing him in front of distinguished guests.

"Do you, now?" He challenged, glancing sideways at her. His fork and knife were now placed diagonally on his plate, signaling he was done.

"Of course I do. I am quite versed in the art of etiquette," she said proudly, suddenly feeling like a child for calling it that way.

"In that case, you should also be aware that ladies do not blabber," he said, eliciting an incredulous look from Hermione.

"I do not blabber!" She proclaimed, in a tone louder than she had intended.

Everyone fixed their eyes on her, some curious, others startled, wondering what was going on under their very noses. Even Harry sent her a questioning look which she shot down with a shake of her head. She retreated further into her chair, having no one to blame but herself. Hours ago, she was congratulating herself in the mirror, certain she would be able to orchestrate the conversation when in fact, she was failing miserably at it. She had years of practice in her favor so how was it possible for him to preside over her thoughts and steer the dialogue to his advantage all the time?

The situation disarmed itself the moment dessert came into play and everyone leaned in to admire the giant glass cups filled with delicious profiteroles.

"So tell me, Cormac, you see anything of your Uncle Tiberius these days?" Professor Slughorn asked McLaggen, lips smacking from the chocolate syrup.

"Yes, Sir," Cormac replied, eager to boost his connections in the Wizarding World. "In fact…"

Hermione blocked them out and glanced over to Blaise Zabini instead whose expression was telling of many unpleasant assumptions. He had been stalking her like prey since the beginning of dinner which convinced Hermione she was probably the main topic to be discussed in the Slytherin dorms. She noticed he hadn't touched his desert and in fact, Draco too hadn't started on it.

"You don't like profiteroles?" Hermione found herself asking him.

"Not really, they're too sweet for me," Draco replied, glancing over to her already half-empty cup.

Hermione made a mental note of that and munched on another piece; when you pass 30 years old, sweets become a luxury but now she was younger again, with a better metabolism and fewer guilt excesses which meant not even Draco Malfoy could stop her from indulging.

"What about you, Miss Granger? What exactly does your family do in the muggle world?"

Ah, just on time for the question that put her on the spot last time. She left her spoon in the cup and placing her hands in her lap obediently, Hermione replied to her professor:

"My parents are dentists. They tend to people's teeth," she replied, making sure to add the full explanation this time.

"Fascinating," Slughorn remarked, appearing to be curious indeed. "And is that considered a dangerous profession?"

"Not at all, it's quite mundane. But extremely sought-after among muggles." She had changed her answer for the better, carefully cutting out the part about Robbie Fenwick since no one found it entertaining that other time.

Hermione was spared any additional questions by Ginny's arrival; the redhead entered the room quietly and apologized for being late. She had been crying and Hermione understood precisely why, it seemed some things had stayed the same. Moreover, a few of them really needed to unfold the way they did, which was why she leaned over to Harry and replayed the past to its identical pitch:

"Look at her eyes. They've been fighting again, her and Dean," Hermione whispered, aware that Harry would get the message.

As soon as Ginny approached the table, Harry stood up on instinct and just like the previous instance, it made Hermione smile while the others stared at them strangely. Why did it take men so long to realize they liked someone and even longer to admit their feelings out loud?

Suddenly grasping how peculiar he was acting, Harry sat down again under the watchful eye of Hermione. He couldn't help but return her gaze and ask:

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied innocently, suppressing a big grin. Those two would be together sooner than expected and that was one of the many important things Hermione wanted to preserve in the future. Harry and Ginny were perfect for one another and unlike her and Ron, they had stood the test of time, relying on each other and growing their family beautifully.

"Potter has a crush," she heard Draco's taunting voice from her right.

She diverted her attention back to Malfoy, a wave of relief surfacing at the familiarity of his spite. To her surprise, his face reflected a bit of wonder and a bit of envy, as if he hadn't expected Harry to reserve time for luxurious feelings such as love. She knew what irked him; while he was tortured by the Dark Lord, tasked with the unimaginable, Harry was free to be entitled and enjoy a girl's attention. The grass was always greener…

"And is that such a bad thing?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Not at all. Potter and Weasly are perfect for each other," he delivered in a tone that dripped with mockery and hadn't gone unnoticed by Harry.

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy!" He whispered under his breath, peering at him from behind Hermione's shoulder. "Jealous much?"

"Of you? In your dreams Potter!"

"Something wrong, boys?" Slughorn intervened, having witnessed the exchange along with the rest of the guests.

"No, Sir," Harry said, lowering his glare to his plate, electing to be the bigger man.

Malfoy, on the other hand, stared ahead, having caught Cormac licking his fingers while looking at Hermione. If that was his attempt at being provocative, he was clearly delusional. The only thing he could provoke would be chronic nausea and severe disgust and judging by her expression, Draco was pleased to see Hermione shared his exact same thoughts.

"It seems he's not the only one with a crush," Draco signaled, head tilting in Cormac's direction.

"He can keep dreaming, I'm not interested," Hermione scoffed, much to Draco's enjoyment. Of course he would notice her discomfort and use it to her disadvantage.

"Are you sure? Haven't you heard, he's quite the catch. He said he's going hunting with his famous Uncle Tiberius and the Minister for Magic over the holidays," Draco said, leaning in his chair, arms crossed, which forced her to look back at him, matching his playful tone.

"Out of all the conversations here tonight, that's what you chose to remember?"

"I can't help it, I'm a politician at heart."

And a prick, Hermione added mentally. But a handsome one.

She silently regarded him again, enjoying every second, finding it so strange to finally see him relaxed and disconnected from his usual persona. So why did she have to go and ruin it all over again?

"You know, Draco, in the muggle world, politicians have to walk over dead bodies to achieve their goals. They compromise morals and values. They sell their souls and betray and lie to get what they want," she began, unable to halt the damned words. "And I have a feeling matters are similar in the Wizarding World which begs the question…Are you willing to do the same?"

She should have known. She should have listened to her inner voice telling her to stop because, with every spoken word, Draco's eyes emptied and hardened. In just a few mere seconds, she had plunged him back into darkness, in a spotlight of grime and guilt, lost and alone and impossibly unreachable. His smile had vanished into a straight line, eyelids lowering heavily and fingers twitching ever so slightly. She opened her mouth to say something but it was already too late. He ignored her to converse with the other Slytherins present and hadn't spoken a word to her for the rest of the dinner.

Fortunately, the evening concluded shortly after. Students left the comfort of their seats, each heading to their dorms, laughter and chatter marking the way out. She saw Draco slip out before her and realized she had to quickly find an excuse to tell Harry. As luck would have it, Harry too, had other plans.

"Hey, is it alright if you go back on your own to the dormitories? I'd like to stay a while longer and talk to Slughorn," he said, pointing to the professor.

"Yes, sure, don't worry about me," she said, thankful for the perfect timing.

"Thanks! Have a good night, Hermione."

"You too, Harry. See you tomorrow," the witch replied warmly, already on her way out.

Her dress ruffled with her motions as she hurried into the hallway, head swiveling in all directions trying to pinpoint him. It was just for a brief second but she spotted his unmistakable blonde hair and saw him disappearing right around a corner. She followed him, frowning in the process; that was not the way to the Slytherin dormitories so unless he had discovered another route, Draco was certainly up to no good and judging by the way dinner unfolded, he was most certainly on his way to the Room of Requirement to try and mend that cabinet. Hermione would not allow it, she had to find a way to stop him or at least change his mind. Perhaps if she would catch him red-handed, he would be forced to abandon his nocturne mission.

She hurried her pace and glimpsed him turning another corner, distancing himself from all the busy corridors of the castle. It was already late so where were prefects and Filch when you needed them? In a panic, she cast a Silencing Charm on her heels; she didn't need Draco to know she was following him just yet. Running on enhanced confidence, she hastened her steps only to end up in disappointment as on the last turn, she was greeted by an empty hall, no sign of Draco or anyone else. She stilled herself trying to listen for any discriminatory noise but there was only silence. In that case, she would have to retrace her steps and locate the exact direction where he disappeared.

With a new plan in mind, she whirled on her feet and changed direction only to bump into someone, the crash slightly making her lose balance. Hermione steadied herself and glancing up at the offender, she drew in a sharp breath.

"Are you following me, Granger?"

His tone was deadly, frightening even. Moonlight escaped into the hallways, illuminating his harsh face and making his eyes and hair appear silver in color. Instinctively, she took a few steps back. He was in a mood and she was not fully prepared to tackle it.

"No, I…" She began but he cut her off immediately.

"If I'd known any better, I would say you have developed a little obsession for me. I can't help but wonder, what have I done to garner this infatuation of yours?" He asked in a voice that was laced with derision and bitterness, all mangled in suffocating intent. Both hands were in his pockets, head slightly tilted to one side, studying her from head to toe, trying to read between the lines of her questionable behavior.

"You're delusional, I'm not infatuated, especially with you." Hermione denied it, acknowledging how dangerous that conversation was. Although he was partly correct, from the outside, anyone would think she acted like one of those brainless girls desperately in love. She was horrified at the image of Lavender Brown popping in front of her eyes. He couldn't have known why she was pursuing him however, she was certain he was suspecting the wrong ulterior reasons. Had he had enough? Perhaps. How else was he supposed to do the Dark Lord's bidding with Hermione Granger always tailing him?

"And yet, everywhere I look, there you are. You've been studying my every move, actively seeking my presence, preoccupying yourself with my whereabouts and now you've stooped as low as stalking me on school corridors. Have you no shame, Granger?" Draco sneered, taking a few steps in her direction.

"Don't come any closer," she said, sensing her pulse lashing within her veins. That would have been the perfect moment to end the conversation and leave but in Hermione's mind, that meant she was running away and she was not a coward anymore. Instead of fleeing, her feet planted themselves securely on the floor.

"Or what? What could you possibly threaten me with? Even more of your neurotic fixation?"

Hermione said nothing to that, only allowed him to stalk closer, hypnotized by his every move. There was both tension and precariousness in the air, allowing unpredictability to nest and breed into something that could span out of control. They were finally alone, truly alone, with no other spectators or interferences which messed even more with Hermione's mind. She could try talking to him, addressing the pressing issues at hand yet why was it that talking was the last thing on her list of priorities? How inebriated she felt even though she hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol. It must have been the element of danger, or better yet, the forbidden aspect of the situation that made her see Draco Malfoy in such a different light. But then again, she had never looked at him that way, never once considering how the two of them would match on more carnal levels. Not until that cursed dream; not until her unfulfilled life had hit her straight in the face.

"Even your reactions are suspicious," he said, watching with fascination as the more he neared her the more she leaned into him, as if she couldn't wait to close the distance any faster.

"Or is it that you have finally discovered hormones?" He asked serenely, his lips curving seductively in light humor. If that meant to dissuade her, it did quite the opposite.

"Are you a virgin, Granger?"

In this life or the other? She asked internally, aware of how absurd the answer to that question would be.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Is it too much for the pristine Hermione Granger?" He challenged, confident he had won the battle.

And conventionally, he would have won it; Hermione would have probably turned red with fury, hexed him and left, holding back tears all the way to her room or worse, Ron's arms. However, at that precise moment, she succeeded in standing her ground. Draco had stopped right in front of her, just two breaths away, towering over the witch in smug advantage, blissfully ignorant of the shameful thoughts taking permanent residence in Hermione's head.

"I'm trying to find it…" Hermione heard herself saying in a subdued voice.

At that sound of that, Draco frowned, eyes never leaving hers. "Find what?"

"The reason why I'm acting like this…" She supplied in a whisper, seriously questioning her sanity.

"You might not like it."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," she said, her mind finding its way back to the dream, conflicting feelings breaking through her rational self. Why did he have to be so good-looking and why did he have to be inches away for her to finally consider it? One by one, she felt her restraints crack open like shackles, liberating her to act on instinct. Her hand reached out, finding its way to his face.

"Granger," he warned and as per his wish, her hand changed trajectory and entangled in his tie instead.

Under his shocked expression, she pulled at his tie, bringing his obnoxiously superior frame down to a more reasonable height. It was obvious from his everyday confidence that he was technically more experienced than the younger Hermione Granger but not the current one she had within her. This one had gone through life. Had experienced love and sex and all in between. It takes a few tries for one to know their own body and she was certain Draco had yet to reach those peaks, not as thorough as she had, at least. True, his contender had been Ron out of all people but she was willing to take her chances.

And before she dragged his clueless face down, lips crashing into his, Hermione thanked the heavens that she knew how to properly kiss and never tell.

OOO

Author's Note: Hello and thank you to all my new subscribers, I hope you like the latest chapter, it was a lot of fun to write. I've always been under the impression that Hermione wanted more for herself, especially romantically so it's a nice twist to have someone like her, who had the chance to live her future be displeased with it and receive the opportunity to change it. I would like my fanfiction to have a Hermione who is more honest with herself and not so preoccupied with what others think because she already did that and life did not turn out as she expected.

Please leave a comment to support me, it keeps me writing and updating faster. Hugs!