I do not own or have any rights to anything Harry Potter or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4

The morning light crept into Draco's bedroom, filtering through the heavy curtains and casting long shadows on the walls. He groaned, his head pounding from the previous night's drinking. His eyes cracked open, and he immediately regretted it—the sunlight was far too bright, and the room spun slightly as he sat up.

Theo sat casually in a chair across the room, his legs crossed, a cup of coffee in one hand, a smug grin on his face. "Morning, sunshine," Theo drawled, taking a slow sip. "Rough night?"

Draco blinked, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Why are you in my room, Theo?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Theo's grin widened. "Oh, I don't know… maybe because you drank half the bar, rambled on about some 'one' who got away, and I had to drag your sorry arse back here before you did something even more foolish?"

Draco winced at the memory of the ball—the intensity of the night with Hermione, the shock of seeing her on stage, the confusion and frustration that followed. He had spent the rest of the night at the bar, trying to drink away the memory of her, of the way she felt in his arms, the taste of her lips. But it hadn't worked. Not at all.

Theo leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched Draco trying to recover from his hangover. "So, mate," he began casually, taking another sip of his coffee. "Now that we're both awake and relatively coherent, mind telling me exactly what happened at the ball last night? You seemed pretty… intense about that 'one' who got away."

Draco sighed deeply, his fingers still rubbing his temples. "It's a bloody mess, Theo," he said, his tone a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I met this woman—this incredible woman—at the ball. We… we had this whole thing, and I didn't even know who she was until the Ministry announced her."

Theo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You had a whole 'thing'? And you didn't recognize her?"

"No," Draco replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I had no idea. We were both wearing masks. We had this connection, Theo. It was intense. And then, when they announced her… it was Hermione Granger."

Theo's eyes widened, his amusement momentarily replaced by genuine surprise. "Hermione Granger? That's… unexpected. I wouldn't have pegged her as someone who'd be into that kind of… spontaneous rendezvous."

Draco scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Theo chuckled. "Oh, come on. I mean, I always thought of her as the 'good girl' type. Never imagined she'd be tearing buttons off a bloke's shirt in a fit of passion."

Draco's face flushed slightly, his jaw tightening. "She's not just some 'good girl' type. She's… complicated. And she obviously felt something too."

Theo held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No need to get all defensive. I'm just surprised. I didn't think Granger had it in her to be so… wild."

Draco sighed. "Well, she does. And now I have to deal with the fallout. She looked horrified when she realized it was me. I can't blame her. I'm not exactly known for my… charm."

Theo leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Look, Draco. I get it. It's awkward, and I know it's not how you envisioned things. But maybe it's worth trying to figure out what's going on. It might not be as bad as you think."

Draco glanced up at Theo, his gaze softening. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I just don't know where to start."

Theo gave him a reassuring grin. "Start by talking to her. You both obviously had something real. See if you can make sense of it. And hey, if nothing else, at least you can say you had a hell of a night."

Draco chuckled despite himself. "Thanks, Theo. I guess I'll have to see how today goes."

Theo leaned back, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. "You might want to consider not drinking yourself into oblivion though if you don't like her answer" he teased lightly. "

Draco sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "She probably doesn't want anything to do with me, Theo. She ran… she looked horrified when she saw it was me."

Theo nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you are Draco Malfoy to her, she doesn't know you now only what you were. But look, you've got this project with her now, yeah? Might be a chance to… I don't know, redeem yourself?"

Draco scoffed. "Redemption, right… because that's ever been an option for me."


Meanwhile, across London, Hermione sat at her small kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her, untouched and cold. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her mind still felt hazy from the mix of exhaustion and emotions. She hadn't slept well—dreams filled with flashes of Draco, of his touch, of his lips on hers.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of Ginny Apparating into her living room. "Hermione!" Ginny called, her voice full of concern and curiosity. "What happened last night? You left so suddenly, and I knew something was wrong."

Hermione bit her lip, trying to gather her thoughts. She looked up at her friend, her expression torn between embarrassment and something close to fear. "Ginny… I did something… I did something really… unlike myself."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Now I'm curious. Spill it."

Hermione took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I was with Draco Malfoy. At the ball. We… we didn't know who the other was, we were wearing masks and—"

Ginny's eyes widened, a mix of shock and delight crossing her face. "You and Malfoy? Hermione, that's… that's incredible!" She burst into laughter, unable to contain herself. "I had no idea you had it in you! The Hermione Granger, sneaking off for a tryst with Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione blushed furiously. "Ginny, it's not funny!" she protested, though there was a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know what to do. I feel so… embarrassed. And now I have to work with him… today."

Ginny leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, come on, Hermione. Don't tell me it wasn't at least a little thrilling? He's handsome, rich, and there's obviously some chemistry there. Maybe this project is just what you both need to… figure things out?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought, though her heart still raced at the memory of his hands on her, his lips claiming hers with such intensity. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I just… I don't know how to face him."

"Well," Ginny said, "you're going to have to, so you might as well face it with your head held high."


A little while later, Hermione dressed for the day, her fingers trembling slightly as she buttoned up her white silk blouse, the fabric smooth against her skin. She opted for a brown tweed pencil skirt that hugged her curves, and small heeled ankle boots. As she tied her hair into a messy bun, she couldn't help but think of Draco's hands in her hair, his touch igniting something she'd never felt before.

Her nerves were frayed, but she took a deep breath. She had to be professional. Today was the first of many days she would have to face him, and she wasn't going to let a moment of madness dictate her future.

Ginny flopped down on Hermione's couch, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Hermione. Now that I've got the full story, spill. What was it like? Was Malfoy really as intense as you've made him out to be?"

Hermione blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. She had changed into a more casual outfit—a brown tweed pencil skirt and a white silk blouse—trying to push aside the remnants of last night's intensity. "He was… intense, yes. But it was more than that. It was like we were… connected, you know? Even with the masks on."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Connected, huh? Sounds like you had quite the night."

Hermione nodded, her voice softening. "It was. But it was also confusing. I didn't expect to see him there, and when I did, it felt like everything came crashing down. I've always had this image of Draco—this… enemy, this person I should avoid. And then… everything changed."

Ginny leaned closer, her expression serious. "You're not just talking about the physical connection, are you? You're talking about something deeper."

Hermione nodded again, her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and longing. "Yes. It felt like… more. But now I'm worried that he'll just see me as another conquest, or worse, that he'll regret what happened."

Ginny shook her head, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione, from what you've told me, it sounds like there was something genuine there. And if he's as conflicted as you are, it's not just going to be about regret or conquest. It's more likely that he's as confused and scared as you are."

Hermione sighed, her gaze dropping to her lap. "I guess you're right. But what if I'm just setting myself up for more heartache?"

Ginny gave her a supportive smile. "If you don't give it a chance, you'll never know. Besides, I've seen you handle worse situations with grace. If you want to find out what's really there, then you need to face it head-on. And if it turns out to be a mistake, well, at least you'll have answers."

Hermione managed a small smile, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Ginny. I really needed to hear that."

Ginny grinned. "Anytime. Now, go get 'em today. And remember, you've got this. Whatever happens, you're strong enough to handle it."

As Hermione prepared for her day at the Ministry, she felt a renewed sense of determination. She might not know what the future held, but with Ginny's support and a little bit of courage, she was ready to face whatever came next with Draco.

Across town, Draco stood in front of his mirror, buttoning up his crisp white shirt, leaving a couple of buttons undone. His mind drifted back to the ball, to the way Hermione had torn his shirt open in her urgency. He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his lips at the memory, despite the uncertainty he felt.

He tousled his hair slightly, giving it that effortless, tousled look that he knew looked good on him. "Right," he muttered to his reflection, "time to face the music."

As he Apparated to the Ministry, his mind raced with a thousand thoughts, all centered on one thing: Hermione. How was he going to navigate this? How was he going to pretend he didn't want her, didn't need to know what last night had meant to her?

Draco arrived at the Ministry and made his way to Hermione's office. He paused outside her door, taking a deep breath. His heart was beating faster than he cared to admit. He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated for just a moment, unsure of what he was going to say.

Inside, Hermione felt her pulse quicken at the sound of footsteps approaching her office. She knew it was him. She stood up, straightening her skirt, trying to steady her breathing.

The door creaked open, and Draco stepped in, his expression a mix of determination and hesitation. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room felt charged with an electricity neither of them could ignore.

"Good morning," Hermione managed, her voice sounding steadier than she felt.

Draco's lips quirked into a half-smile, his gaze never leaving hers. "Morning, Granger," he replied, his tone surprisingly soft. "Shall we get started?"

They both knew this was the beginning of something neither could yet define.

The tension in the room was palpable as they stood facing each other, neither willing to make the first move, neither willing to show the vulnerability that had been so explosively on display the night before. Hermione's fingers itched to reach out, to touch him, to feel the solidity of him, to prove that the intensity she felt wasn't just a figment of her imagination. But she resisted. Instead, she moved behind her desk, creating a small barrier between them.

Draco noticed the movement, the subtle withdrawal, and felt a pang of something close to disappointment. He had to admit, he wasn't used to feeling so uncertain. Women usually flocked to him, but Hermione… she was different. She always had been. He watched her, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

"So," Hermione began, trying to inject some semblance of normalcy into the situation, "I think we should go over the project details first." She forced herself to meet his gaze, her tone brisk and professional.

Draco nodded, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Of course," he replied. "We're here for the project, after all." His voice was smooth, his words dripping with a hint of irony.

She cleared her throat, annoyed at how her pulse raced at the sound of his voice, how it made her recall the heated whispers they'd shared under the moonlight. Focus, Hermione, she chided herself. "Right, the project," she continued, pulling out a folder from her desk. "We're tasked with developing a new series of protective enchantments for Muggle buildings to shield them from dark magic. It's a delicate task, requiring both subtlety and strength in spellwork. We need to ensure they remain undetectable to Muggles while being impenetrable to any malevolent wizard."

Draco's brow furrowed, his attention now genuinely piqued. "That sounds… ambitious," he admitted, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossing over his chest. "But I suppose that's why they chose us. You, the brightest witch of our age, and me…" he smirked, "the most charming bad boy Hogwarts ever produced."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Charming? That's a generous interpretation."

"Well," he drawled, "I was always good at charm work."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips, a tension breaking sound that filled the room, and for a moment, they were just two people who had shared a laugh. Draco's smile widened at the sound, his gaze softening, and for a second, Hermione saw something vulnerable in his expression, something real.

She cleared her throat again, turning her focus back to the folder in her hands. "Right, so I thought we could start by reviewing some existing enchantments and seeing where we could make improvements," she suggested, trying to regain her composure.

Draco nodded, stepping closer, closing some of the distance between them. "Sounds like a plan. But, Hermione…" his voice lowered, more serious, "about last night…"

Hermione felt her heart thud in her chest. She wasn't ready for this conversation, not yet. "Last night was… an anomaly," she said quickly, her eyes not quite meeting his. "A mistake, really."

He stiffened slightly at her words, but his expression remained calm. "A mistake?" he repeated, his tone neutral.

She nodded, pushing through her discomfort. "Yes, a mistake. One we should probably both just… forget. We have work to do, Draco, and we can't afford distractions."

Draco's jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, push the issue. But then he gave a slow nod. "If that's what you want," he said, though there was an edge to his voice, a challenge.

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. She was grateful he hadn't pressed her further, but a small part of her wished he had. "Yes," she replied, her voice firmer. "It is."

"Fine," he said, turning to the table where the enchanted maps and books were laid out. "Then let's get started."

For the next hour, they worked side by side, reviewing spellwork, discussing theories, and charting strategies. The conversation was civil, professional, yet underlined with an undercurrent of tension, like a taut string stretched between them, ready to snap at any moment.

As they worked, Hermione found herself glancing at Draco more than she should. She couldn't help but notice the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated, or how his fingers moved with such precision when he cast a sample spell. She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach, the way her body seemed to remember his touch, his hands, his lips…

Draco, for his part, was trying his best to focus on the task at hand, but every time Hermione spoke, every time she leaned over to point something out, he found his mind drifting back to the way she had felt against him, the way her breath had hitched when he had kissed her neck…

As they continued to review the project details, the tension between Draco and Hermione gradually eased into a more comfortable rhythm. They exchanged ideas, challenging each other, pushing back against each suggestion with the same vigor they had once used against each other in debates back at Hogwarts. But beneath the sharp words, there was a current of something lighter, something almost… playful.

Hermione glanced up from a particularly complex diagram and found Draco watching her, his expression unreadable but his eyes alight with interest. She raised an eyebrow. "What? Do I have ink on my face or something?"

Draco smirked, leaning back in his chair. "No, it's just… you still furrow your brow the same way when you're thinking hard about something. I always found it kind of amusing."

Hermione felt a flush rise to her cheeks. "Amusing, is it?" she replied, trying to sound annoyed, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I could say the same about your constant hair-ruffling. Do you ever stop trying to look like you just walked out of a catalog?"

Draco chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "What can I say, Granger? Some of us are just naturally gifted."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but laugh. "Gifted at vanity, perhaps," she shot back, but her voice was light, teasing.

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze never leaving hers. "And yet," he said softly, "you keep looking."

Hermione's breath hitched. The air between them seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension. She quickly looked back down at the papers in front of her, determined to stay focused. "I'm just… observing," she muttered, but even she could hear the shakiness in her voice.

"Observing, huh?" Draco murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. "Well, feel free to observe as much as you like."

Hermione bit her lip to suppress a smile. She refused to let him see how much his teasing affected her. "Maybe we should focus on the enchantment analysis," she suggested, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

Draco nodded, but his smirk remained. "Alright, let's focus, then. I think we should look at the counter-curses used in the Ministry's defensive wards. If we're going to protect Muggle buildings, we need to be sure they won't trigger any unwanted magical attention."

Hermione nodded, relieved to be back on the topic. "Good point. But we also need to think about layering different kinds of magic—something that can adapt to new threats without needing constant intervention. A blend of ancient protective charms and modern, adaptive hexwork."

Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Not bad, Granger. But are you suggesting we mix enchantments that have never been combined before? That's risky. There could be unintended side effects."

Hermione leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That's why it's interesting, Malfoy! We can innovate—create something new. Something better. Isn't that what this project is all about?"

Draco's gaze flicked down to her lips, which had curved into a challenging smile. "I suppose," he replied, his voice dropping a notch lower, "if you're willing to take the risk, so am I."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. It was as if they were back on that balcony, lost in the thrill of the unknown, drawn together by something neither of them could fully understand. Hermione's heart thudded loudly in her chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Draco tried to focus on the papers in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to how her blouse clung to her, accentuating the curve of her waist, the way her skirt fit just right, showing off her figure while still maintaining an air of professionalism. She looked… respectable, but still undeniably sexy. He wondered if she was aware of just how intoxicating that combination was.

Hermione, meanwhile, tried to keep her gaze steady on the documents, but she kept stealing glances at him. How was it possible for someone to look so effortlessly put-together? The way his shirt hugged his torso, the slight stubble on his jaw, the tousled blond hair that seemed perfectly styled without any effort at all. It was maddening.

She cleared her throat, pushing the thoughts away. "Right, so… I think we have a good starting point. We should work separately for now and regroup later to compare our findings."

Draco nodded, but his smile never wavered. "Agreed. But before you run off… would you like to go for a drink? You know, to… discuss things further," he added, a playful glint in his eye.

Hermione hesitated. For a brief moment, the idea of sitting across from him in a dimly lit bar, with a drink in her hand and his intense gaze fixed on her, sounded tempting. Too tempting. She bit her lip, and shook her head. "No, I don't think that's a good idea," she replied softly. "This is strictly a work situation."

Draco blinked, genuinely surprised. He wasn't used to being turned down, especially not like this. "Strictly professional" he repeated, trying to mask his disappointment. "I see."

Draco nodded, trying to hide the confusion he felt. This was new to him—wanting someone so badly, feeling a pull so strong it took everything in him not to reach out and touch her. He usually didn't have to make much effort with women; they came to him. But Hermione… she was different. And he found he liked the challenge, even if it frustrated him.

"Alright," he said finally, his voice quieter than before. "I understand. But, Hermione… if you change your mind, the offer stands."

She nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Draco. I appreciate it."

Draco returned her smile, though his eyes still burned with something deeper. "See you tomorrow," he said, turning to leave.

As he walked away, Hermione exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She watched him go, feeling both relief and a twinge of regret. She didn't know what the future held for them, but she couldn't deny that something had shifted, something had changed between them.

And it terrified her just as much as it thrilled her.

Draco made his way out of the Ministry, his thoughts still lingering on Hermione. As he exited the building, he Apparated to a small, discreet restaurant on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. It was his mother's favorite—quiet, with a private dining area shielded from prying eyes. Narcissa Malfoy was already there, waiting for him. She sat at a table by the window, her pale blonde hair pinned up elegantly, but her eyes seemed distant, gazing out at the bustling street beyond.

Draco approached and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Mother," he greeted softly.

Narcissa turned, a small, tired smile gracing her lips. "Draco," she replied, her voice still holding that familiar aristocratic lilt. "You look well."

Draco sat across from her, giving her a warm smile. "I could say the same about you," he said gently, though he noted the shadows under her eyes, the subtle sadness that seemed to linger just beneath the surface. Since his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been sent to Azkaban, Narcissa had become a shell of her former self—still poised and composed, but somehow diminished.

Narcissa studied her son for a moment, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her teacup. "You're too kind, darling," she murmured, before taking a delicate sip. "How are things at the Ministry? You said you had a new project?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, quite an important one. We're working on a series of protective enchantments for Muggle buildings. A collaboration with several departments, including Granger's."

Narcissa's expression tensed slightly at the mention of Hermione, a flicker of the old prejudices flaring up. "Miss Granger," she echoed softly. "I see. I suppose the Ministry has a certain fondness for her."

Draco sensed the familiar undercurrent in her voice, and he chose his words carefully. "She's smart, Mother. Very capable. And this project… it could really make a difference."

Narcissa sighed, her fingers stilling on her cup. "I know you want to change things, Draco," she said quietly. "To move the Malfoy name away from… everything that happened. I understand that. But sometimes, I fear you are… rushing too quickly away from who we are."

Draco leaned forward, his tone gentle but firm. "I'm not rushing away from who we are, Mother. I'm trying to redefine it. To build a future where our name isn't synonymous with hatred and fear. Where we can be proud of who we are for the right reasons."

Narcissa's eyes softened, a hint of pride mingled with the sadness. "I know, darling. And I am proud of you. More than you know. I just… I worry. The world is still so divided."

Draco reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I know, Mother. But that's why we have to keep pushing forward. We can't change the past, but we can shape the future."

She squeezed his hand, her smile returning, though faint. "You've grown into quite the man, Draco. Your father… despite everything, he would be proud."

Draco gave a small nod, his own smile tinged with sadness. "I hope so," he replied quietly.

At that moment, Theo Nott appeared in the doorway, his expression brightening when he spotted Draco and Narcissa. "Ah, there you are!" he called out cheerfully as he approached their table. "Mrs. Malfoy, always a pleasure."

Narcissa smiled warmly. "Theo, how lovely to see you. Please, join us."

Theo pulled up a chair, sitting beside Draco. "I hope I'm not intruding. Just thought I'd pop by and steal Draco for a bit."

Narcissa chuckled softly. "Not at all. It's nice to see Draco surrounded by friends." She patted Draco's hand one last time before standing. "I'll leave you two to it. I have some errands to run. Don't be a stranger, Theo."

Theo grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Malfoy."

Draco stood to kiss his mother on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, Mother."

As Narcissa left, Theo turned to Draco, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. "So… how did it go with Granger?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About as well as can be expected. We worked on the project, talked a bit… I asked her out for a drink."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? And?"

"And she declined, wants it to keep to work stuff only," Draco admitted, a touch of frustration in his voice. "I don't think she trust herself to be around me right now."

Theo chuckled. "Well, that's a first. The great Draco Malfoy getting turned down."

Draco shot him a glare, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's not funny, Theo."

Theo shrugged, still grinning. "It kind of is. But hey, maybe that's what makes her different, yeah? She's not just another conquest."

Draco's expression softened slightly. "No," he agreed quietly. "She's definitely not just another conquest."

Draco turned back to Theo, who was already pouring himself a glass of wine. He raised it in a mock salute before taking a sip, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"So, what's been keeping you busy, Theo?" Draco asked, leaning back in his chair. "You don't exactly have a nine-to-five job."

Theo grinned, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Oh, you know me, Malfoy. I do what I want, when I want. I've been thinking about traveling next year—maybe start in Italy, then head over to Greece. You should come with me, you know. Drag yourself away from all this Ministry madness."

Draco laughed. "And leave my work unfinished? You know me better than that."

Theo rolled his eyes. "That's the problem, mate. You're always working. When was the last time you did something just for fun, well except granger last night?"

Draco smirked. "Yesterday is none of your business. I also asked Hermione Granger out for a drink."

Theo snorted. "And remind me how did that go, again?"

Draco shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "At least I tried. It's a start."

Theo chuckled. "You, Draco Malfoy, reduced to 'trying.' What is the world coming to?"

Draco laughed, but then his gaze turned curious. "What about you, Theo? Met anyone interesting lately?"

Theo's grin faltered slightly, and a small blush crept up his cheeks. "Actually… yeah. I've met someone. But it's still new. Not sure where it's going yet."

Draco's eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. "Really? Who's the lucky one?"

Theo hesitated, then said, "Her name's Emily. Met her at a party a few weeks back. She works in St Mungo's. She's smart, funny… different, you know?"

Draco smiled warmly. "I'm happy for you, Theo. You deserve someone who appreciates you."

Theo waved him off, but Draco could see the pleased look in his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We'll see how it goes. But enough about me. Let's get back to you and Granger. What is it about her, anyway? You've dated plenty of women. What makes her so special?"

Draco paused, considering. "She's… different. Strong, intelligent, doesn't put up with any of my crap. She doesn't fall at my feet just because I'm a Malfoy. I guess… I like the challenge."

Theo grinned. "Of course, you do. Always chasing the impossible."

Draco chuckled. "Maybe. But there's something about her, something I can't quite put my finger on."

Theo nodded thoughtfully. "Well, whatever it is, I hope you find it. Just… don't mess it up, yeah?"

Draco smirked. "I'll try my best, Theo."

They continued their banter, relaxed and easy, like two old friends who knew each other's secrets and faults but didn't judge. They finished their wine and talked about plans, past adventures, and the unpredictable nature of life.

Meanwhile, back in her office, Hermione sat at her desk, trying to focus on the work in front of her. But every time she glanced at the notes or diagrams, her mind drifted back to Draco—the way he looked in that perfectly tailored shirt, the subtle scent of his cologne that still seemed to linger in her office. She found herself daydreaming, replaying their conversations, the way his eyes seemed to darken when he looked at her, the way his voice had dropped to a husky whisper.

She sighed in frustration, trying to shake off the thoughts. "Focus, Hermione," she muttered to herself, tapping her quill against the parchment.

At that moment, there was a soft knock on her door, and Harry walked in, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, Hermione," he greeted, holding up a paper bag. "Thought you might be hungry. Brought you some lunch."

Hermione smiled, grateful for the distraction. "Thanks, Harry. You're a lifesaver."

Harry pulled up a chair, setting the food down on her desk. "How's the new project going?"

Hermione shrugged, trying to keep her expression neutral. "It's… challenging. But good. We're making progress."

Harry noticed the slight hesitation in her voice. "And how's it going with Malfoy?" he asked casually, though his eyes were curious.

Hermione hesitated, then sighed. "Complicated," she admitted. "He's… different than I expected. But he's still Draco Malfoy."

Harry chuckled. "Well, yeah, that's kind of hard to change. Just… be careful, alright?"

Hermione nodded. "I will," she promised.

Harry was finishing off his sandwich while Hermione picked at her salad.

"So, Draco Malfoy, huh?" Harry remarked, a teasing grin on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not like that, Harry. He's… well, he's different now."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I've had a few passing conversations with him in the past year. He seems serious about turning the Malfoy name around. Even Kingsley speaks highly of him these days."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I think he is genuine. He seems… determined, but there's still that edge to him, you know? That hint of arrogance."

Harry laughed. "That's just part of who he is, I suppose. But people can change, Hermione. Look at you, working with him. I never would've imagined it back at Hogwarts."

She smiled faintly. "Neither would I. But here we are."

There was a moment of silence, and then Harry's tone softened. "You know, Ron has been asking about you."

Hermione tensed but kept her expression neutral. "I've put that behind me, Harry. What happened with Ron… it's in the past. But it still hurts sometimes that you're friends with him."

Harry's face softened, and he reached out to touch her arm. "I know, Hermione. I've tried to be there for both of you, in different ways. But if it helps… Ginny didn't want to invite him to the engagement party either, and he's her brother."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "She said it wouldn't feel right if it made you uncomfortable. She wanted you to feel welcome and safe."

Hermione felt a warmth in her chest. "That's… really sweet of her. Tell her I appreciate it."

Harry grinned. "I will. Just promise me you'll come. It wouldn't be the same without you."

Hermione smiled, feeling a wave of affection for her best friend. "I promise."

They continued to chat about lighter topics, reminiscing about old times at Hogwarts, laughing at their shared memories. Eventually, Harry glanced at his watch. "I should get going. Got to meet Ginny for some last-minute party prep, remember it's this weekend."

Hermione stood and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for lunch, Harry. And for everything, don't worry I will be there."

Harry squeezed her back. "Always, Hermione, I will let Ginny know."

After Harry left, Hermione sat back down at her desk, her mind still buzzing with thoughts of Draco. She sighed, glancing at the clock. It was late afternoon, and she still had a mountain of work to do.

Finally, she decided to write an owl to Draco:


Draco,

I think it would be best if we meet in the Ministry's deep archives tomorrow to go over the new enchantments we need to create. There are several documents we should reference, and it would be easier if we do it in person.

Let's meet at 10 a.m tomorrow.

Best,
Hermione

She sealed the letter and sent it off with her owl, then packed up her things and headed home.

When she arrived at her apartment, she surprisingly found a reply already waiting for her. She opened it eagerly, her eyes scanning Draco's handwriting:


Hermione,

The deep archives it is. I look forward to it—anything to spend a bit more time with my favorite Ministry official. Until tomorrow, then.

Warm regards,
Draco

Hermione felt a flutter in her chest. She folded the letter carefully, placing it on her kitchen counter. Alone in her quiet apartment, she could no longer deny the truth to herself.

She wanted him—badly. And it terrified her