Hero in Her Skies

Chapter 8 - - Hero in Her Skies

- - -

Hermione checked her watch just before tossing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace in her quarters. Quarter to nine, right on time.

She stood and stared for a few long moments. This morning she would be telling her parents about Draco, and her nerves were on fire. It had been a while since she had shared news of this sort, and she hoped they wouldn't ask too many questions she couldn't answer.

"Granger residence," she said finally and then stepped into the swirling green flames.

After the war, Hermione had taken Ron with her to Australia to retrieve her parents. It had been nearly as difficult as the war itself, seeing them so happily oblivious and then reversing the spells she had cast. She had discussed her plan with them beforehand, and they had known what was coming, but it was still difficult. She showed them the letters they had written to themselves, explaining everything, and her parents had been stunned but accepted her explanation.

She had told them that she would be working with Harry to put an end to a wizard who had taken a page out of Hitler's book. She explained in detail what Voldemort was like, his ambitions, his methods. Hermione had insisted that her parents go into hiding not only for their protection but for hers also. There was no way to be sure they would become targets, but in order for her to be able to concentrate on helping Harry, she needed to know they would be safe.

Elizabeth and Thomas Granger had agreed, though reluctantly, after Hermione had assured them that they would retain their memories as the Grangers, but that their minds would be unable to access those memories. Instead, a new set of false memories would be implanted. Once the war was over, Hermione severed the connection in her parents' brains that led to those false memories.

After returning to England, they resumed their dental practice, and Hermione visited them every week during the school year and more frequently during the summer. Saturday morning was her time with her parents. Though they had agreed to let Hermione alter their memories, they had been, and still were, distrustful of magic. This was why she Floo'd there for her weekly visits instead of Apparating; somehow, travel by fireplace seemed less magical to them.

Hermione stepped out of the hearth and cleaned the soot from the floor and her clothes. "Dad? Mum? I'm here!"

She glanced around the room at the empty furniture and drawn windows and wondered if she had made a mistake. Were her parents out of town? She didn't remember them mentioning anything about a trip. The kitchen showed no signs of usage that morning either, and her mother never did anything without a cup of tea.

Hermione headed up the stairs and as she reached the top, her mother came out of the bedroom, pulling her robe around her and yawning.

When she saw Hermione, she stopped mid-step. "Oh! You scared me!" said Elizabeth, smiling at her daughter and going to hug her.

"Sorry, Mum." Hermione chuckled as she returned the embrace. "But it's nearly eight on Saturday morning; this is when I always come by."

"Yes, I know, we didn't set our alarms this morning. We went to an office party last night, were up late, had a few glasses of wine ... the lie-in was just what we needed."

"Oh. I was concerned when I came through and didn't see anyone."

Elizabeth smiled and put her arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Now, dear, there's nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. Let's go get breakfast started, shall we? Your father is in the shower."

They went to the kitchen, and Elizabeth started bustling around, starting the water boiling, pulling out eggs, onions, sausage and fruit. Hermione peeled a few oranges while they talked.

"How was your week?" Elizabeth asked.

"It was fine," Hermione said.

"And how are your two love-birds coming along?"

Hermione sighed and then laughed. She had told her mother about Evan and Sheetal and her theory that Evan was pining for the Slytherin girl. "It's ridiculous how much thought I've given to them. They are doing the same. Though ... I'm considering putting them in the same work group for the term."

"Should you do that? Isn't that against some kind of ... teacher-student confidentiality rule, or something?"

"I shouldn't think so, Mum. Perhaps if Evan had told me of his feelings, then yes, but as it stands, I'm going on speculation alone. Putting them together would only provide more opportunity for Evan to do something."

"Do you think he would?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, thoughtful. "I've tried to predict what would happen, but I can't know how he would act. He seems very confident, not shy around the other girls, and he's got a pleasant demeanor. Yet I've had this suspicion since the middle of last year, and he's done nothing."

Elizabeth finished chopping the onions and put them in a pan with a bit of oil. "I suppose there's no harm. They have to go in a group with someone, after all."

"I still haven't decided," Hermione admitted, putting the orange slices on a plate and then leaning on the counter to watch her mum work.

"How's Charlie?" Elizabeth asked cautiously. "I haven't seen him around much lately."

Hermione shrugged. "I saw him about a month ago. I don't think we'll be getting back together anytime soon, Mum. I know how much you like him."

"Now, Hermione, you know that I'm only concerned about your happiness. Yes, we like Charlie, but if things don't work out between you, then we accept that too." She tenderly patted Hermione's cheek.

"Morning, ladies."

Hermione and her mother both turned to the entry where Thomas was standing, smiling.

"Morning, Dad," Hermione said, going to hug him. "Late night, I heard."

He nodded and poured himself a cup of tea, then kissed his wife on the cheek as she stirred the sausage in with the onions.

"Things are going well at school," she said. Then, before she could even think about whether or not she should mention it, Hermione blurted, "And I have a date this afternoon."

Both of her parents stopped and stared at her, then looked at each other, then returned to their previous tasks.

Hermione had been nervous all morning at the thought of telling her parents about Draco. Every time she told them about the men who came into her life, they were very supportive and welcoming, but this one would be significantly different.

She had always been honest with her parents and, following the war, had made every effort to repair the still fragile bond with them. She told them everything about her life, her work, her friends, the men she dated. They had exchanged a pointed look because it had been nearly nine months since she had last been on a date.

No matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't get Charlie Weasley out of her heart. Even though it had been two years, part of her didn't want him out and secretly hoped that things would somehow work out between them.

After the war, she and Ron had agreed to start dating after things were settled in the wizarding world. Once Voldemort was dead, Kingsley Shacklebolt agreed to stay in office until a new Minister was elected. Arthur Weasley's name was submitted, and his entire family, including Percy, rallied behind him. It had been a way to unite them after losing Fred, gave them something to work for together.

Hermione had worked with Harry and Minerva at restoring Hogwarts, recruiting new teachers, revamping the curriculum. When Ron started Auror training and Hermione entered her Healer apprenticeship, they began their relationship. It went according to schedule for two years. He kissed her when it was appropriate, they held hands in public, and gazed into each other's eyes.

Ron was there for her when she realized she wasn't cut out for Healing. He'd held her as she made the decision to focus solely on research and had fully supported every career move she'd made.

But it wasn't enough. One day she'd woken up beside him and realized there was no spark, nothing interesting. While things were nice, pleasant even sometimes, their relationship had fallen into a rut very early on. And two years later, she was sure neither of them had it in them to get out of it.

After a few months apart, they decided they were better off as friends. Life went back to normal. Hermione had dated casually, not getting into anything serious, focusing most of her efforts on completing her certification to teach.

Then early the year following her break-up with Ron, she had been sent by her research job to Romania, to the Dragon Keep where Charlie Weasley worked, to collect samples of dragon dung for study. He offered to show her around the Keep...and help collect her samples...then the city, and soon they were inseparable. She'd moved in with him after only a few months, but they didn't tell anyone at first because Hermione had been unsure how the Weasleys would react. They had all been disappointed when she and Ron had split. She'd feared they would they see her relationship with Charlie as betrayal.

The time they had spent together had been some of the best months of Hermione's life. Charlie truly complemented her, enjoyed her, cherished her, and respected her. She had been sure they would end up together. At Christmas that year, they finally told his family. The reaction had been what they'd expected, though they hadn't anticipated the degree of Ron's anger. Everyone had been shocked, to say the least, but Ron had been angrier than she had ever seen him.

He wouldn't speak to Hermione or Charlie for months, accusing both her and his brother of betraying him. It eventually came out that Ron thought a tremendous amount of Charlie, looked up to him, saw them as cut from the same cloth. He had taken the relationship as a slap to the face; if Hermione couldn't make things work with Ron, why was she able to with Charlie?

Ron had made things difficult in the Weasley family. He forced people to take sides, choose him or Charlie. Molly absolutely refused, but he was so insistent that soon, everyone else had grudgingly chosen a side. Harry, too, had been brought into the ordeal, as Hermione's friend and Ginny's fiancé. He had chosen Hermione, which angered everyone who had taken Ron's side.

Hermione and Charlie fought hard against other people's attempts to dictate their relationship and had continued seeing each other. However, the damage had been done and seeds of discord planted between them. A month before Hermione began her first year of teaching, she and Charlie had ended their relationship. Their separation had been amiable, and they'd still loved each other, but being at the focus of a giant rift in the family had been too much. It wasn't worth it, they'd both concluded.

Hermione didn't speak with Ron for a long time until Charlie begged her to forgive him. She did, and slowly things returned to a semblance of normal, with Ron finally apologizing and removing his objection to her dating his brother. She and Charlie had talked about starting something again, but it seemed the time had passed. They were in different places in life, and while he still made her heart race, it always brought back the bad memories as well. The last thing Hermione wanted was to be the cause of another wedge in the family she loved almost as dearly as her own.

Charlie was still one of her dearest friends, and if he needed a date for an event, he always called her, and she likewise. They were there for each other whenever needed, to provide a shoulder, a hug, or other comforts.

In her bones, she believed that someday, she would still wind up with Charlie. It might be many years down the road, but part of her heart belonged to him.

All the men she had dated since him fell vastly short when compared to him. Her parents knew this and seemed to accept, as she had, that one day their daughter would marry the older Weasley.

Whenever a new bloke came into the picture, they listened patiently while Hermione got excited, went on a few dates, and then inevitably would pop into their den one evening with a frown on her face. "He's not Charlie," she would say and curl up in her mother's arms.

"I know what you're thinking," Hermione said hurriedly. "But this one is ... different." That was quite an understatement. She had given a lot of thought about telling her parents the truth about what she was doing with Malfoy, but then she would remember the look on his face when he'd said "Please." She couldn't betray his confidence at this point. So they would be led to believe she was seeing him, as would all the other people in her life.

"How so?" asked Elizabeth.

"He's ... well, he's very different from anyone I've ever gone out with. I've known him most of my life, actually." He was a Death Eater; he's the one who introduced me to the hate and malevolence in the wizarding world.

"Do we know him?" asked Thomas with a frown.

"No," she replied. "But you're heard of him. It's Draco Malfoy."

"The young man who..." began Thomas.

"I know what he's done, but remember what I've told you about his life. His parents, their involvement with the Death Eaters, what he was forced to do when he was only sixteen. I saw him a few weeks ago, for the first time in years, and he seems genuinely changed. A different man."

"I certainly hope so," her father said. "One wrong move and I'll have words with him, magic or no."

Hermione laughed at the image of her father fighting with Draco. "I know, Dad. I don't think there's anything to worry about. It's just tea, I don't even know if he'll ask me out again."

"Well, if he does, be sure to bring him by the house so we can meet him," chimed Elizabeth.

"Yes, Mum," she promised, smiling as she opened a cabinet to pull out three plates.

"Do you like him?" Elizabeth asked.

Hermione thought for a moment. The quick and easy answer was yes, since she was supposedly going out with him. However, she allowed herself a moment to really consider the question and smiled at the memory of their conversation on her portable sofa. "I think there's potential," she said finally, leaving the kitchen to set the table in the adjacent dining room.

ooo

Hermione left her parents' house at two in the afternoon. They had eaten an early lunch, and her parents had an appointment with friends. She had a few errands to run in Diagon Alley, but she would wait until after her meeting with Malfoy. With a little over two hours remaining, she didn't want to return to Hogwarts, but she didn't want to remain in their home alone.

It occurred to her that she hadn't given any thought to what she would wear to tea with Malfoy, and she groaned when she realized she would have to return to the castle in order to change. She decided to go visit Ginny and use her fireplace to get back into her room.

The Potters lived in Ottery St. Catchpole in a quaint little home off the main road through the village. Ginny had wanted to be close to her family while Harry had wanted a place to call his own, and the village near the Burrow was the ideal compromise.

Hermione knocked on the dark brown door and soon it was opened by James, Harry and Ginny's two-year-old son.

She knelt to look him in the eye. "Hello, James. Is your Mum around?"

"Right here," said Ginny, appearing in the doorway. She grabbed James' hand and then smiled at her friend. "Hermione! What brings you here? Harry isn't here; he had a meeting with Minerva."

"I know," she said, stepping into the hallway of the cozy cottage as Ginny opened the door. "That's partly why I'm here. I could use your help."

"Sure," said Ginny, picking up her son. "Have a seat in the living room. I'll just put him in the pen. Would you like something to drink? Tea?" she asked when she was out of the room.

"No, thank you," Hermione called.

She stood in the living room and smiled. Two comfy sofas sat against the two interior walls, and an old chest sat under the large front window. Pictures of their family, immediate and extended, covered the walls and other horizontal surfaces, including the hearth of the large fireplace. The colors were warm and the room was inviting.

"All right," said Ginny, returning to the room and taking a seat on one of the sofas. "What's on your mind?"

Hermione knew that with Ginny, the best way to deliver news was to say it all up front and then wait for the questions to begin. She took a deep breath and said most of the news. "I have a date in about two hours, and I don't know what to wear."

Ginny's eyes widened. "A date? Since when do you come to me for help with what to wear?"

"This ... this date is a little different than the ones I'm used to. I'm afraid I'm in uncharted territory this time."

"Who is it?" Ginny asked, moving into task-oriented mode. "I have to know that. Oh, and what does the date entail? You said it's in a couple of hours; are you meeting for tea? Where? Indoors or out?"

"Yes, it's tea. Diagon Alley, Tea Leaves and Thyme. I'm not sure about seating, but if I had to wager a guess, I would say outdoors."

"Wow, Hermione, that's the nicest tea shop in London! You've left off the name of the bloke, though, don't think I hadn't noticed," Ginny said with a pointed look.

Hermione sighed. "I know, and I'm getting to that. It's ... Malfoy."

Ginny stared at her friend and then slowly smiled. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Really?" Hermione said, incredulous. "It sure surprised me."

"Well, I caught the way he was looking at you over lunch that first time he came to Quidditch. OH!" Ginny bounced in her seat from excitement. "Wear that white sundress! He snuck looks at you every other second in that dress!"

Hermione was confused. It wasn't a real date, and Malfoy didn't have a real attraction to her, so Ginny must have been imagining things. She couldn't imagine Draco looking at her in any special way that day, as it had been before they'd begun to reconnect. Besides, she hadn't changed all that much over the years, and Draco had always made it clear in school that he had found her quite ugly. True, it was a long time ago, but she didn't think he would change so drastically.

She shook her head. "No, that can't be right, Ginny. Besides, it's too cool to wear that dress now."

"Wear a cardigan with it," Ginny said. "And if you don't believe me, watch his face when he sees you."

"I don't know ... I certainly can't wear those sandals now."

"I'll be right back." Ginny hopped off the sofa and practically ran out of the room. She returned after a few minutes with a shoebox. "Trust me. Don't argue. Magick them to fit you; they're perfect."

Hermione warily accepted the box and then opened the lid. Inside was a pair of red, open-toe pumps with what had to be a three-inch heel. "Ginny!" she exclaimed, hastily putting the lid back. "Are you serious? I can't wear those! Those are ... are ..."

"They're 'I know you want me' shoes. I know. The first time I wore them for Harry..."

"No, thank you. I don't need that information."

Ginny thrust the box back at Hermione. "Take them. They're perfect."

She wanted to exclaim that she didn't need for anything to be perfect, because Malfoy didn't really like her and it wasn't a real date. However, it occurred to her that it was supposed to look like a real date, for anyone who might be watching, and that if Malfoy questioned her, she could always claim that as the reason for her attire. She was supposed to look like she wanted him to notice her, and those red shoes would certainly do the trick.

As she took the box from Ginny, something hit her. "Why are you so okay with this? It's bloody Malfoy, remember?"

Ginny shrugged. "I know. Harry insists that I be supportive of him. I don't know why, Harry swore he wouldn't tell a soul, but I think it has to do with Lucius Malfoy. Harry was there, you know, when Lucius was released from prison."

"I read about Harry being there, but it slipped my mind," Hermione said, frowning. "Why was he there?"

"No one knows. Dad told me that Harry gave Lucius a box. That's all I know. Harry didn't even tell me that much, nor have I seen any strange boxes in all the years we've been together."

"How odd!"

"Indeed. And, you know, he was nice enough when we hung out with him those times. I felt awful about what Ron said, but that's Ron. He speaks before he thinks, and he's got such a short temper."

"You're the best, Ginny," Hermione said, shrinking the shoebox to fit in her purse. Her thoughts were whirring once again. Did Malfoy's task have anything to do with the box Harry gave Lucius? "I should get going; I've got to get back to school and get ready."

Ginny smiled. "You are most welcome. I want all the details immediately, if not sooner. Does Harry or Ron know?"

"No. I'd rather wait to tell them. This could be nothing, and I don't want anyone getting upset over it."

Ginny walked Hermione to the fireplace. "Listen to this, Hermione. Really hear me. Do not let Ron ruin this. If this thing with Malfoy is something good, something you want, don't let Ron do what he did with Charlie."

"But it's not the same," Hermione said.

"No, Malfoy isn't Ron's brother, but he has strong feelings about him nonetheless. He obviously isn't interested in listening to Harry about giving Malfoy a chance. He won't be happy about you dating him, either. Just ... if you want to be with Malfoy, be with him."

"Thank you, Ginny. I'm glad I have your support." Hermione hugged her friend. "Ron could certainly make things difficult again, couldn't he?"

Ginny nodded. "Details," she said, handing Hermione the jar of Floo powder. "Minute details. The thread count of the napkins, minute, okay?"

Hermione smiled and stepped into the fireplace. "I'll be sure to ask the waiter about that. Bye, Ginny."

Once she arrived in her quarters, she threw open her closet. The white sundress was clean, thankfully, but she stared at it, still unsure, still wary at the thought of Malfoy finding her attractive. Did she want to think about the date possibly being real, not just for show? He had been extremely charming and interested when they'd spoken during the Quidditch game he'd sat out. His smile had released tiny butterflies in her stomach, and his intelligence had impressed her. It was clear that he spent a lot of time thinking and reading, and she found that highly attractive. Under normal circumstances, these attributes were enough for her to go out with a man if he asked.

Hermione shook her head. It would be dangerous to forget the reality of the situation: this was the first of three meetings designed to establish an alibi for her while helping him solve a problem...nothing more, nothing less. Regardless of the butterflies he inspired, despite the fact that she found him attractive, that came first and foremost. Still, she would look the part.

Hermione pulled a red cardigan from the closet to match the shoes and got dressed. She pulled half of her hair up and clipped it with a red bow, then put on a string of pearls her mother had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she smiled. She felt slightly over-dressed...what if he showed up in jeans?...but she certainly would give off the feeling that she was trying to impress her companion. And that was what mattered.

Before she could change her mind, Hermione grabbed her purse, threw on an outer cloak, and Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron, requesting permission to come through. It was granted, and she quickly made her way through the pub and out the back. Two bricks up, three down, and she stepped into Diagon Alley.

Hermione glanced at her watch, which she had tossed in her purse, and saw that she had fifteen minutes before her scheduled meeting time with Malfoy. She decided to take Ginny's advice and watch his face when he first saw her. That would mean getting to their table first and watching for him, so she headed directly for the tea shop.

Tea Leave and Thyme was set back from the road, and there were twenty-two tables outside, surrounded by a short fence. An awning could be extended in poor weather, though Hermione suspected it was mostly for looks. Most of the tables were occupied when she approached the man standing at the door beside a podium.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm meeting someone here at four; he said we had a reservation."

"Name, please?"

"Malfoy." Without thinking, Hermione glanced around to see if anyone had heard her. No one was paying her any attention.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Malfoy contacted us just a few minutes ago and said he would be late, but to seat you right away. Everything has been arranged; follow me."

Hermione nodded and the maître d' led her through a short gate, and then through the maze of tables to one situated near the café, away from the main road. He pulled out the chair facing the front and she sat.

"Here is your tea menu, Miss Granger. Your waiter will be with your shortly."

She thanked him and then glanced at the menu, though she had no intention of ordering until Draco had joined her. When the waiter approached, she ordered water and asked him to return when her companion had joined her.

While she waited, Hermione took in her surroundings. The outdoor seating area was surrounded on one side by the café, another side by a tall, brick wall with vines nearly covering it, and the other two sides by the low fence. The tables were covered with white tablecloths, and at her place was a beautiful set of china with a pattern of tiny yellow flowers. When she glanced at what would be Draco's place, she saw an entirely different set of china. His plate, teacup and saucer had scalloped edges with a silver band for accent.

By the time four came and went, the entire outdoor seating area was full. Hermione found herself growing nervous as the minutes passed. Would they be watched during their meal? Or had Malfoy simply wanted them to be seen by enough people that the person of interest would hear about it?

At precisely quarter after four, Draco appeared at the podium. Hermione was grateful for her unobstructed view and a few moments to take him in. He looked dashing, dressed in a dark grey suit, a white shirt with pale blue and green stripes with the top button undone, and a contrasting, patterned tie. His hair looked strategically tousled, which surprised her. She had expected it to be impeccable, but found him even more attractive than before. He wasn't above looking a little disheveled when he went out in public, and it made him more approachable, more ... real.

He spoke to the maître d', who then pointed to where Hermione was sitting. She had been sure to sit so that he would see the dress, her body angled away from the table, one leg crossed over the other. Her heart was pounding as Draco followed the man's line and his eyes met hers. She gave him a small wave and he continued staring, his eyes burning through hers, oblivious to the maître d', who had been talking to him the entire time.

Their gaze broke as Draco's attention was finally won by the short man, and Hermione feared her heart would jump out of her body. Ginny had been right! He certainly seemed affected by seeing her. Whether or not the dress was the cause remained to be seen.

Hermione watched as Draco made his way through the tables toward her, an over cloak tossed casually over one arm, his other hand in his pocket. When he reached their table, he smiled, in apparent control of his reactions. She didn't feel the same intensity from his gaze as she had moments before.

"I'm sorry I was late," he said, sitting down. "My meeting ran over. Thank you for waiting."

"It was no problem," she said, feeling oddly disappointed that his eyes had lost their fire.

"Have you ordered?" he asked, picking up his menu.

"No, I was waiting for you."

"You didn't have to do that," he said, glancing at her.

"My tea would already be cold if I hadn't."

The waiter came over then and took their orders. Hermione selected an exotic herbal tea to begin while Draco chose Earl Grey.

"I'm surprised at your order," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "Out of all the choices, unusual teas from all over the world, you choose a home-grown variety."

He shrugged. "I know what I like."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to that and bit her lip, trying to think of something interesting to talk about. She couldn't believe she was nervous about a fake date! "What was your meeting about?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled bemusedly. "Do you really want to know?"

"We are supposed to be getting to know each other, aren't we?" she teased, straightening in her chair and trying to force her thoughts into project-mode.

"You're right," he agreed.

The waiter returned with their tea, food and accoutrements, and then left without a word.

Hermione's eyes widened at the three-tiered display, and she looked at Draco. "I thought we had yet to order?"

"When I arrived, I requested two of everything they offered in the Full Tea. This way we don't have to pour over the tedious menu for twenty minutes, trying to decide what we want."

She looked back at the food and laughed. "I still can't decide what I want!"

On the bottom plate was a colorful array of savories, some she recognized, some she didn't. The second plate was nearly spilling over with a variety of scones: lemon, poppy seed, raspberry and plain. The third tier was a beautiful assortment of fresh fruit.

On an additional plate was a selection of sweets, including small helpings of tarts and cakes. Lemon curd, strawberry, blackberry and apricot jam, clotted cream, milk and sugar completed the array.

Draco said nothing, so she glanced at him. His eyes were once again on fire, and she shivered in the cool, autumn air, but blamed the intensity of his stare.

She was suddenly very aware of herself, and of him. Everything blurred and all she could do was stare back with wonder.

Just as she began to feel like she might burn up under his scrutiny, he broke the moment by turning his attention to the offerings as though nothing had happened. He quickly selected three sandwiches and a scone. As he applied a generous helping of lemon curd, he said, in an offhand manner without looking at her, "You look stunning this afternoon, Hermione."

She had been about to reach for a raspberry scone when he spoke, and she froze, her hand mid-air. He finished spreading the curd on his scone and ate it very deliberately, glancing around at the other patrons before finally meeting her stunned gaze.

"The raspberry is an excellent choice," he said, smirking.

Hermione blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him and reached for a poppy seed scone. He chuckled, his voice deep and smooth.

"My meeting was the monthly Budget Committee meeting. I sat for nearly five hours listening to old wizards drone on and on about numbers. Some were higher than last month, some lower, and they had detailed action plans for how to make those lower numbers go up for next month."

"Sounds terribly exciting," she teased, brushing aside the remnants of delightful tremors and focusing on their conversation.

"Oh, it was." He chuckled lightly. "It was scheduled to end at three, but one of the branches of the company had a major set-back this month, and the manager of that branch went into excruciating detail about what had happened, what had been done to solve the problem, and what would be done to ensure it didn't happen again."

"You weren't aware of this set-back before today? That seems ... irresponsible of that manager."

Draco's expression flicked from surprise to bemusement. "Indeed. As it happens, I was aware of the problem, but I still require my managers to give a full accounting, not just to me but to each other. Still, that was the cause for the meeting running late, and you'd said you wished to know. I thought it would irresponsible of me to withhold this piece of information."

"Oh," she said, feeling heat creep into her cheeks at the amusement in his voice. "Yes, well..."

"Are you truly interested in the way I run my business?" he asked, his voice curious.

"I ... well ... honestly, yes," she said, confidently meeting his eyes. "I read an article about you in Magical Business, where you described some of the changes you made from the way your father ran things, and it was fascinating. I found myself wondering about your reasons, your motives behind the changes, because it sounded as though your father had a much more dictatorial method, whereas you have opted for surrounding yourself with wise and experienced people and gaining as much information from them as possible before making decisions. Which, in my opinion, is a very good approach."

She bit her lip, worried that she was rambling.

His eyes were shining, all teasing amusement gone, as he poured himself another cup of tea. "Fascinating," he whispered. Then, in a full voice, queried, "Did you seek out this journal? Or are you one of the unlucky few who subscribe to it?"

"You're not the only one who is thorough with research," she quipped, a cheeky smirk ghosting her lips.

This time he gave her a full, warm smile, which sent a cascade of butterflies colliding through her stomach.

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you." Draco carefully selected a grape from the fruit plate. Just before popping it into his mouth, he said, "And that's precisely why I've come to you."

The reality of the situation crashed through her; they were out together in order to be seen. There was no ulterior reason. Again, she felt disappointed. There were many things she found she wanted to know about the man sitting across from her, but there was a line between them. She wasn't sure where it was, if it was solid or flexible, thick or dotted. He had just reminded her of the line, so she must have gotten too close to it.

Hermione glanced around the café and the street, looking to see if someone was obviously staring. To her surprise, quite a few people seemed interested. When she turned back to Draco, he was watching her.

"Are we ... do you think that the person or persons this whole thing is for are here? Watching?"

He scowled, then sighed. "Most likely not. Precautions."

"Then why are so many people interested?"

"In all of your excellent research, surely you deduced that I do not generally go out on dates with beautiful and extraordinary women. The fact that I am out with you ... and probably more that you are out with me, is bound to send old witches into gossip fits."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "On the contrary, I saw plenty of evidence suggesting otherwise."

"Business functions do not count. Etiquette requires I take a partner, and I do. They are not dates, and I make that quite clear to the women involved," he explained.

"They are certainly beautiful. I suppose my being seen with you will prove an interesting conundrum to those gossipmongers."

Draco looked at her with narrowed eyes. "If you're fishing for something, it won't work."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said honestly.

"I've already said twice what I think of you. If you want to hear it again, I suggest you replay this afternoon in a Pensieve."

She reddened, feeling anger rising with the embarrassment. "I'm certainly not hunting for compliments, Malfoy. All I meant was that when compared with all of them, I clearly fall very short, and it will be noticed."

He held her gaze, his expression impassive, for a few heated moments. Then he smiled, though it was clearly forced. "We're here to get to know each other. I will give you two things without making you work for them. One, I don't give out compliments lightly. Two, I don't make a habit of lying. I have found that not only is it bad for business, but it can come back to bite me in the arse."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Here's a bit of advice that will, if taken to heart, make this easier. Don't presume to understand me or my motives. Whatever you think you know about me, whatever you have deduced based on who I was as a child, please let go of it. Get to know me, who I am right now. Then, if you still wish, you may make asinine insinuations about me, so long as they are based on fact."

She stared at him and then bit her lip. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll give you a couple freebies to even things out. I don't take compliments well, especially if they are about my appearance. I meant what I said a few weeks ago. You are an intimidating man, and my natural reaction is to lash out when I feel cornered or out of my element. Which I certainly feel around you," she added quietly.

His features softened, and he ran a hand through his hair, leaving it more disheveled than before. "We have a lot of history behind us. It takes effort to remember that you aren't the girl you were at thirteen. But I've decided it's worth that effort."

Hermione smiled, genuinely touched. "Thank you."

Draco exhaled. "We've done a number to the food. Would you like anything else?"

As Hermione considered the question, the world around her, which had seemed to fade away while they were talking, reappeared, and the sights, sounds and smells of the café and the street came rushing back to assault her senses. People were talking, carts were being rolled along the cobblestone street, door chimes were sounding, dishes clinking.

"No, I'm finished," she said, dabbing her lips with the napkin. Ginny's comment from earlier in the day came to mind, and she stared at her napkin, smiling to herself. In vain, she searched for a tag that might give the threat-count.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked.

"Looking for something. Never mind. Have you told anyone? About us, I mean?" she asked, thinking he should know that she had told people.

"No," he said curtly.

"I have. I hope that's all right."

His eyes were speculative as they searched her face. Then he shrugged and poured himself another cup of tea. "They'd find out sooner or later." He took a sip from his drink and frowned, then signaled. Their waiter appeared beside the table almost instantly.

"How can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

"I would like coffee, please," said Draco. "Strong." He looked at Hermione. "Anything for you?"

"No, thank you."

The waiter left and returned quickly with the requested item. Draco poured a cup, took a swallow, and nodded approvingly. "Much better. Who have you told?"

"Ginny and my parents."

His gaze darted to hers, alarm evident on his face. "Your parents?"

"Yes," she said boldly. "They said to bring you by, if things progress. Why?"

Draco shook his head, chuckling. "I hadn't considered that I would meet your parents as part of this. Though, now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense. I'm surprised you haven't told Potter and Weasley too."

"I'm still working on getting to that," she admitted. "They won't take it as well as Ginny. At least, Ron won't for sure."

"I'm concerned about that, to be honest. I don't want him making this hard for you."

She smiled, surprised that he was concerned about her. "He'll behave. I'll probably bring you round the Burrow as well, at some point. Depending on how long this goes."

"That inevitability I had considered. I've nothing against spending time with your friends."

"Likewise," she said, though the thought made her uneasy. She didn't know who his friends were and couldn't begin to speculate what spending time with them would entail.

An amused smile played on his lips. "I'll keep that in mind." Draco finished his cup of coffee and set his napkin on his plate. "Shall we make this a proper date? Care for a stroll along the alley? Give more people a chance to see us together?"

"Oh! Well, I suppose that would be all right."

He stood and gathered his cloak, then held a hand out to her. She stared at it for a brief moment before accepting it, and then he pulled her up. She thought he would let her hand go, but he only repositioned his hand to grasp hers tighter as he led her out of the café.

The contact was intense; she couldn't believe the reactions it caused inside her. Not only was her heart thumping in her chest, but the butterflies had discovered gun powder and cannonballs.

They walked at a leisurely pace, talking mainly about what they saw around them. Hermione completed her errands, and even though she was used to people paying her attention, she had forgotten what it was like to be openly gawked at. A couple of people nearly fell over things, they were so blatantly staring. Hermione was happy when they reached the empty end of the street.

"That was brutal!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand from his and then clenching and re-clenching her fists.

Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded. "That's far more attention than I'm used to, as well."

"Did you see that woman nearly spill her cauldron?" An amused grin crept across her face.

He chuckled. "What about the man who walked right into a pole? I nearly laughed out loud at that."

"Oh! Me too!" she said, feeling her frazzled nerves unwind just a bit. "I had to bite my lip."

"I think you squeezed my hand a bit there as well."

"Did it hurt? I'm sorry, I didn't even realize."

"No," he said, his voice soft and smooth. "It didn't hurt."

Hermione's breath hitched, and she realized she wouldn't mind if he kissed her. Then she remembered for what felt like the hundredth time that day that they weren't on a real date, and he wasn't really interested in her. Despite his compliments, despite the way he looked at her, she was sure it was all part of the act. Even if what Ginny had said was true, he had probably been planning this the entire time. He had probably wanted someone to see him look at her that way. He was simply very, very good at acting.

"I should get going," Hermione said.

"Yeah," he said, glancing back down the street. "When would be a good time to have lunch next week?"

"Oh, that's right. Let me think ... Wednesday I've got a large open block around lunchtime. Does that work for you?"

"It will have to. I'll rearrange what I must. What do you say to the Three Broomsticks, at noon?"

"Perfect," she said.

"Excellent." He turned to look at her then, fire once again in his eyes. "Thank you for this."

"I'm not just doing it for you," she asserted, reminding both him and herself of the fact.

"Don't think I'll forget that fact," he said. "I should probably mention that I saw one or two people with cameras, so your friends might find out sooner than you would like."

Hermione groaned. "That means I'll have to tell them tonight if I don't want them to read about it in the paper. Why must you be so mysterious and rich and striking that everyone wants to know your business?"

Draco appeared taken aback at first by her compliment. Then he smiled lazily at her. "You've only yourself to blame," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it as he had the day before. "Au revoir, Hermione."

She watched him throw his cloak around his shoulders and Disapparate, then cursed him for leaving her breathless two days in a row.

ooo

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this week's installment. See you next week! Title taken from "The Blower's Daughter" by Damian Rice. This song was originally in the playlist for this chapter until I discovered "First Date" while searching for a title. The name "Evan" for the Gryffindor boy was inspired by manda's son. MWAH!

Art credit: The lovely manip for this chapter was done by the fabulous watertart_11. Music credit goes to inadaze22.

Beta thanks: I have an awesome group of betas who complement each other well and always give me something to think about. They help me make this story better, and I am endlessly thankful to each of them. So, thank yous are due to manda, z, pokeystar, and drcjsnider.