Her Shoes

Throwing flower petals to my sweet and fantabulous beta by the name of t_stevenson. Also, thank you to my grammar queen Lady Lynn who went through this with a fine tooth comb – damn she’s good. Once again, thanks to Wildcatcdc for her advice.



Suit in this chapter is Michael Kors (https://www.neimanmarcus.com/products/mf/NM-1ZWM_mf.jpg) and the shoes, oh the shoes, are courtesy from the master of lines and elegance, Valentino: Patent d’Orsay Pumps (http://images.saksfifthavenue.com/images/products/04/592/0665/0459206651187/0459206651187R_300x400.jpg). I just couldn’t not do a d’Orsay shoe. Valentino’s come in black, red and aqua. I chose the color I did because I thought it would look fabulous with the suit – crisp and very put together. Expect to see another Valentino shoe.



Thank you for you support and glorious reviews. I baked you all a cake!



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“Dear Merlin, that is so creepy!”



It was the day after Draco’s night of revelations and a very puffy-faced and red-eyed Hermione stared at the shocked face of the red-head sitting across from her in her living room. The silent dark-haired Slytherin hadn’t said a single word since Hermione revealed Draco’s horrifying admissions to them.



Hermione prodded Pansy gently. “Pansy? Are you alright? You haven‘t said anything.”



Pansy closed her eyes and visibly shuddered. “Merlin, I had no idea. You have to believe me. I knew he was in love with you, but I . . .”



Hermione shook her head and put up her hand. “Stop, I know you didn’t. I know you wouldn’t have been involved in something like this. You would never do this to me.”



Ginny bit her lip in trepidation. “I assume its over between you and Draco.”



Hermione’s head snapped up, she stared at her friend and tears spilled from her eyes once more. She could only shake her head. “I know it should be over, but I’m in love with him. I don’t know what to do. Part of me despises him for what he’s done. But I’ve also gotten to know him, and grown to love what I’ve come to know. I literally hurt from wanting him so much.”



Ginny rushed over to Hermione and hugged her friend. “I’m sorry, darling. Really. I don’t know what to say except we’ll support whatever decision you make.”



“I’ve known Draco forever,” Pansy said thoughtfully. “Hermione, this is just so beyond what I would have ever suspected him of doing, and if you didn’t take him back no one would fault you. If you do decide to make another go of it with him, you definitely have to lay ground rules, on your terms. What’s he’s done, well, there are no words. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised, considering who his father is; and let’s not forget the fact that he’s a Malfoy.”



“Obsessive love,” Ginny added. “Oh yes, that most certainly fits a Malfoy.”



“Wait, what about Narcissa?” Pansy seemed to have just realized that Draco’s mother was part of the equation.



“I think she may know what her son has done, but what could she do when he controls both her and Lucius’ means of living? She owled me this morning; I haven’t opened her letter yet. It’s sitting there.” Hermione crooked her head towards a small table near the window. “I spent the better part of last night redoing every single ward. Gods, I was and am so damn angry! I felt safe with him, and now I . . . don’t know.”



Hermione shot to her feet. She felt a rush of pure adrenaline course through her system as anger seared through her. “That fucking wanker! I can’t believe he did this. He was literally stalking me! For years. Gods, can you imagine if we hadn’t gotten together? What would he have done? Hurt someone? For what? To satisfy his own selfish sense of what he calls love? ARGH! I’m so fucking angry right now I could just march right over there and hex his balls off. To think I almost told him I was in love with him last night. That arsehole doesn’t deserve me! I don’t know how, but I’m going to make him pay through the nose for this. I really am.”



Pansy and Ginny sat back and watched the furious brunette work through her wrath as she paced back and forth throughout her flat. They both made sure her wand wasn’t within easy reach, and remained as still as possible as the air around her jumped and sparked with magic.



“I need time to think and breathe. I know what he did was wrong, very wrong. A man like that is dangerous, isn’t he? I know I should stay away from him. Yes, I should stay away from him, at least for now. When he’s near me, I can’t think clearly.” She closed her eyes and raised her hand to her forehead, pain crossing her brow. “I won’t lie,” she stated, “I’m desperately in love with him. I was envisioning a life with him. How could he make me fall in love with him with everything he’s done? Merlin, I don’t know if we can recover from this! Can we recover?” She looked to her friends with pleading eyes.



Ginny was the first to reply, looking surreptitiously at Pansy. “I don’t know, Mione, I just don’t know.”



“Look, Hermione, you said it yourself, you need to think, give yourself time to breathe. Now isn’t the time to answer these questions, okay?” Pansy stood up, a take-charge attitude exuding from her; she was ready to tackle the issue head on. “Right now, you need to figure out what it is you want, Hermione. Take the week, think things through. You love to make lists, so make two lists, a Pro Draco and a Con Draco. Under ‘con’ make sure you clearly note ‘creepy stalker’ and ‘would need lots and lots of therapy’, and under ‘pro’ don’t you dare put ‘huge, thick, co . . .”



“PANSY PARKINSON!” Hermione exclaimed as she rounded on her friend.



Laughing heartily, Pansy raised her hands in defense. “I’m not making light of the situation, Hermione. However, you need to focus on the reality of what is at stake. Sex with Draco is not a ‘pro’; think of it as more of a perk. A ‘pro’ would be his ability to be a dependable, loving, and supportive boyfriend or husband. Do you understand?”



Hermione rolled her eyes and replied a little indignantly, “Of course, Pansy, I’m not a bloody idiot. I’m not even sure if I want to take him back, for Merlin’s sake. How do I know he won’t lie again, or do something else equally reprehensible?”



“Well,” Ginny cut in hesitantly, “has he done anything else that would make you think that he might lie or manipulate you again? It seems to me, and I’m not defending him in any way, that everything he’s done has been so he could be with you, Hermione. It’s rather romantic really . . . in a twisted, dark, disturbed kind of way. Don’t you think, Pans?”



“Frightening too, don’t forget that,” Pansy added. Both Pansy and Ginny nodded their head in unison.



“I get it, ladies. Thank you!” Hermione spoke over her two friends. Honestly, had they gone daft? Romantic in a twisted, dark, disturbed way? For Merlin’s bloody sake. Despite the fact both seemed to be losing their mental faculties, Hermione felt better, much better.



She did need time to think, and to do that she needed time away from Draco. She was still in love with him. In fact, she’d never loved anyone the way she loved him. The Draco she had come to know over the last several months was one that she could see building a life with. However, the question in her mind was if the Draco she loved was the true Draco.



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Two weeks went by and Hermione continued to avoid Draco.



Upon her first day back in her office after her imposed separation from Draco, there had been flowers waiting for her on her desk. In fact, a fresh arrangement arrived daily. There was no note but she knew they were from him. After the fourth bouquet, she sent him an owl asking him to please respect her need for space and time, and to refrain from sending her anything. No flowers appeared the following day.



Her anger had somewhat abated, though she was still shocked and horrified that Draco would have masterminded all that he had done. No, staying away from him right now helped clear her head. She needed time to plan what she would do next.



In the meantime, she tried to stay busy with friends, both old and new.



She finally opened Narcissa’s correspondence. The older witch pleaded with Hermione to please not shut her from her life, and if she would consider still meeting with Narcissa for tea. Because she wanted Hermione to feel comfortable, she recommended they meet at The Dancing Tea Leaves, a lovely tea shoppe in the Wizarding high district of Diagon Alley. After some consideration, Hermione sent an owl agreeing to meet Narcissa the following Friday at three o’clock, their usual time.



Their tea had been going smoothly; Narcissa hadn’t mentioned Draco at all. Instead, the two women enjoyed themselves immensely, discussing everything but Draco Malfoy. Hermione, eventually, inquired about Cecilia.



“How is Cecilia, Narcissa?” Sipping a bit of tea, she placed one of the lovely sandwiches on her plate.



Narcissa paused. “She misses you, my dear.”



“I miss her, greatly.”



Narcissa placed her teacup on its saucer and looked Hermione squarely in the eyes. “I’ve come with a request.” She held up her hand as Hermione opened her mouth. “From Cecilia.”



Hermione sat back confused but waited patiently for Draco’s mother to continue.



“She’s asked to be moved out of the Manor. She’s asked if she can live with you.” Narcissa picked up her teacup and sat back, awaiting Hermione’s response.



“Pardon?” Hermione was sure she couldn’t have heard Narcissa correctly. Draco’s grandmother’s portrait had requested to be moved, specifically OUT of Malfoy Manor and into her flat?



Narcissa sighed deeply and stared into her tea. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for Draco’s behavior. Don’t look at me that way, I know most of what he’s done and I warned him of the consequences when he eventually confided in you. Because of the choices he’s made with you, Cecilia is quite angry with him. She’s made her decision and, if you agree, would like to live with you.”



Hermione blinked. Then she did something quite unexpected. She chuckled. The chuckle morphed into a giggle. Then the giggle became a laugh. The laugh turned into a full-blown, nearly falling off her chair fit of mirth, and Narcissa could only sit and stare at her in wide-eyed confusion with her mouth slightly parted in surprise.



“Are you alright, Hermione?”



Her laughter abating slightly, Hermione nodded her head. “Oh yes, I’m perfectly fine. And yes, I would love to have Cecilia live with me. Please let me know if I may send someone to collect her portrait or . . .”



Narcissa waved her hand. “Oh no, the house-elves have already removed her portrait from the hall. She’s currently residing in the Solarium. I can have her portrait brought to your flat this evening if that’s convenient.”



Hearing that Cecilia was living in the Solarium caused another fit of giggles but Hermione managed to shake her head and mutter, “Tonight, after six o’clock.”



Narcissa gave a knowing little look to Hermione. “Take my advice as someone who’s been married to a master manipulator; they do have the ability to be their own worst enemy.”



She sipped her tea while Hermione giggled once more. Narcissa grinned at the younger witch’s glee, then both women went back to their tea and resumed their prior discussion.



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Another week passed by and living with Cecilia turned out to be a fantastic decision. Hermione had never had a flat mate and found she enjoyed coming home to partake in the Regency beauty’s witty repartee.



She hung the portrait in a prominent place in her living room for all to see, and for Cecilia to see all. Hermione often engaged Cecilia’s opinions as she organized her weekly outfits. Cecilia and she would talk endlessly as Hermione made breakfast or dinner. During the day, she had spelled books to hover and turn their own pages for Cecilia to read and pass the time. The evenings were filled with Hermione sharing her day at the office and Cecilia listening intently about her work day. Hermione returned to working at the Ministry full-time, and communicated with DM Investments via her assistant, Davis.



Yes, she was still avoiding Draco.



She hadn’t sent him any further correspondence, nor had he attempted to contact her again after the flower deliveries had stopped. She knew she’d see him soon; Davis had scheduled a meeting at DM Investments in one week to provide an update on the Muggle technology project. Hermione realized she would need to speak to him before that meeting. She had made the decision to visit him over the weekend at Malfoy Manor to talk. She had no idea what she would say or decide in the end, and because of that she was procrastinating in sending him an owl until Friday.



She and Cecilia discussed what had happened. Draco’s grand-mère was clearly angry with Draco. However, when Hermione sought her advice on whether to take him back or move on; Cecilia could only shake her head sadly. She wouldn’t, she explained, tell Hermione what to do but encouraged her, instead, to take as much time as she needed to make her decision. In the end, Cecilia was sure Hermione would make the right one.



These thoughts were running through her mind as she sat in her favorite café waiting for her lunch companion to arrive. Her hair was loose about her shoulders. She had dressed in a smart, all-white lacquered boucle detail jacket with a spread open collar and a button front. It had a matching pencil skirt that was simple and elegant with a modest back slit. The short-sleeved jacket and skirt molded nicely to her small frame.



Her legs were crossed at the ankles, showing off her high- heeled stilettos. The stilettos were glossy patent leather d’Orsay pumps in a bright aqua color. They had a pretty peep-toed front, emphasized by a gorgeous triple-looped, asymmetrically placed bow. She was stylish, elegant and very lady-like.



She heard her name called out and looked up into a pair of emerald-green eyes.



“Adrian!” She smiled and cocked her head, raised her eyebrow and motioned for him to sit. They hadn’t seen each other for some time. Hermione realized she’d missed their banter, and more importantly, his friendship.



He swallowed nervously as he sat down. “Are you angry with . . .”



Hermione raised her hand to halt further conversation. “Actually, I’m not angry. I don’t think I was ever upset with you. I’m sorry that we stopped being friends.”



Flashing a tentative smile, Adrian shook his head and placed a warm hand over hers. “We never stopped being friends.”



Hermione grinned and swatted his hand away. She looked up and signaled the waiter over to order lunch. She was thrilled to repair her friendship with Adrian. She also wanted to seek a man’s advice, well, a Slytherin’s advice, about Draco. She didn’t share every bit of detail but did manage to share that Draco had attempted to manipulate her and her life to ‘win’ her. She wanted to understand why he would do the things he did, why would he have gone as far as he had, and why couldn’t have approached her like other men?



Adrian laughed. “Are you serious? This is Draco Malfoy we’re talking about, Hermione.”



Hermione sighed. “I realize that, Adrian, but why go to such lengths? Why not just stop being a prat and ask me out to dinner?”



“Hermione, are you that dense?” Adrian chuckled.



Narrowing her eyes dangerously, she frowned in displeasure. “I beg your pardon?”



“Look, you’re Hermione Granger. He’s Draco Malfoy. Would you have honestly given him a chance a few years ago? Would you have believed him or trusted him if he were suddenly acting like any normal bloke? A sweet, kind, petting baby Kneazles kind of bloke? Be honest.”



Hermione looked down at her salad then closed her eyes. Would she have given Draco a chance? She would have looked at his change in behavior towards her as odd and with suspicion. Curls tumbled across her shoulders as she shook her head sadly. “Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we?”



“Look at me,” Adrian said kindly, his eyes full of empathy. “I know him pretty well, as well as Blaise and Theo. He grew up surrounded by darkness. If it weren’t for Narcissa, he would have been completely lost. Draco doesn’t, and has never done, emotions well. It’s one thing to present himself to the world and act a certain way, it’s a role he’s been conditioned to play; but with you, he had no idea how to just be himself because you’d only ever seen what he wanted you to- what was expected of him as Lucius Malfoy’s son. Never, ever would he have had the hope to believe that you could love him. And I know you do, Hermione.”



Tears welled up in her eyes, and she croaked out, “More than you can ever know.”



Adrian reached over and held her hand. “It’s all right. So, you have this young man who’s rather stunted emotionally and pining for years for one glorious girl. What does he do? He does what he knows best. He’s a Slytherin. He resorts to underhanded tactics and manipulation and scheming, but more tempered versions of what his father would have done. Draco can be very single-minded when he wants something. He wanted you desperately. Granted, he went about it the wrong way, but I’ll tell you, truly, I’ve never seen him happier than he has been these past months. He’s lighter, more at ease with life and not so serious, not so caught up in being who the Wizarding world sees him as. He laughs more and it’s clear how much you’ve bewitched him. Draco’s always wanted you; he had an idea as to who Hermione Granger was, and what he thought he needed to do and be for the girl he’s desired from afar. I can tell you since you two began dating, he fell in love with the real Hermione Granger, not some illusion in his mind, but the witty, brilliant, stubborn and exquisite girl sitting here before me.”



During his speech, the tears Hermione had attempted to still, came sliding down her pink cheeks. “Oh, Adrian.”



Patting her hand and squeezing it tightly, Adrian smiled and extended a handkerchief. “Now, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to be whipped and left out as a Thestral snack. You give him hell and make him come crawling back on his hands and knees.”



Hermione dabbed her eyes, wiped her cheeks and laughed aloud. Adrian was a good friend, she realized, to both her and Draco. His words helped soothe a few of her concerns about seeing Draco this weekend. If she wanted to give it another go, they would have to take things slowly and she would need to set certain ground rules if she were to trust him again. Her love for Draco gave her hope that opening her heart to him was the right choice. She didn’t want to live with the regret of ‘maybe’ and hate herself for what might have been in the future.



Hermione was slipping Adrian’s handkerchief into her bag when they were interrupted.



“How cozy.” She stiffened as she heard that oh so familiar drawl in that oh so familiar icy tone.



Nervously, she slowly looked up to meet a pair of smoldering silver eyes roaming over her from head to toe, lingering on her aqua heels. She wet her lips and smiled a little shyly. She could feel her hands numb slightly and her heart nearly leap from her chest. “Draco . . .”



He gave her a curt nod before turning to Adrian with a sneer. “Pucey, you certainly don’t waste time, do you?”



Shocked by his supposition, Hermione protested. “Draco, this isn’t . . .”



His jaw hardened, and he didn’t even bother to look at her. “Please, Granger, spare me your explanations. Your silence over the past few weeks, and now this, speaks for itself.”



Adrian rose from the table, his eyes narrowed and hands fisted. “Draco, you’re being a fucking arse. For Merlin’s sake, think before you talk, man.”



Hermione thought for one moment that Draco would draw his wand. But then, she watched as his shoulders slumped and he turned to her, his mouth parting as if to say something. Just as quickly, he shook his head, spun on his heel and walked away.



Fuming, Adrian sat down again and watched Hermione. “Hermione, are you alright?”



She closed her eyes, fighting back the sob that threatened to escape. She grabbed her bag, rose and shrugged into her white robe. “I have to go, Adrian. I’m sorry.”



“Go on, I’ll take care of the tab.” He gave her a short hug. “If you need anything, I’m here. We’re friends.”



Hermione thanked him then walked out of the café to Apparate back to her office. She wanted to owl Draco as quickly as possible.



She swept into her office, notifying Davis that she needed a Ministry owl immediately and she wasn’t to be disturbed by anyone for the remainder of the afternoon. Closing the door behind her, she nearly slid to the ground in emotional and mental exhaustion. Goddess, he looked just as beautiful as ever. She was trembling from the encounter and had realized almost immediately after seeing him that she wanted to give him another chance. Perhaps she was a fool, but she only knew that she needed to do this. She needed to see if a real and honest relationship was possible with Draco.



She walked over to her desk, took off her robes and flung them on her chair. She picked up the afternoon mail and perused the various letters until she came upon a recognizable piece of parchment. It was from Draco.



With fumbling and tense fingers, she tore open the note. Her eyes widened in astonishment and her heart suddenly sank as she read it over and over again.



Granger,



It’s clear you’ve moved on. It’s over.



DM



The room was spinning, the lights seemed dim and there was no sound in the room except for Hermione’s deep breathing until emotion crashed through her and magical sparks seemed to be leaping from every area of her body.



THAT.



FUCKING.



WANKER.



ARSE.



PRICK.



He broke it off with her! HE broke it off with HER?!?!



HOW. DARE. HE.



She was the wronged party. She was the one who’d been hurt. She was the one who needed to make a decision. She was the one who dictated whether or not it was over.



NOT HIM!



Oh, Draco Malfoy had another thing coming if he thought he could get away with this little stunt. Of all the childish and cowardly acts, to break it off via OWL! Of all the low and insensitive . . . she was not going to allow him to do this to her. BASTARD! If that git thought it was going to be this easy to get out of being held accountable for his actions, he was DEAD wrong. She had every intention of confronting him and demanding his apology, along with his promise to behave and be a better man. She was going to dictate to him this time. He would cooperate with her!



No more running.



No more hiding.



No more games.



No more fucking around.



Hermione Granger was a witch to be reckoned with and Draco Malfoy was swimming in very deadly waters.



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All endeavors to reach Draco over the next few days proved futile.



He’d returned all of her notes via owl, unopened.



He’d had the Floo connection between her office and home to Malfoy Manor closed.



He’d ignored all her efforts to reach him via Muggle means, mobile and email.



He’d attempted to send house-elves to unsuccessfully collect his grandmother’s portrait.



He’d tried to bully his mother into cancelling her weekly tea with Hermione.



The final straw came when Draco challenged her position on the Muggle technology project. That little ploy nearly sent Hermione over the edge. She marched determinedly up to the Minister’s office and barged in, holding his inter-office memo in one hand and her wand in the other.



Kingsley stared up in astonishment and trepidation at the petite witch who was poised for battle. Her thick, unruly curls were flying everywhere, her muscles taut and tense, her stance askew and her normally rich chocolate eyes were dilated to near black. She looked every bit like Nemesis, the Greek goddess of vengeance.



Kingsley gulped and attempted to smile at her once her found his voice. “Hermione . . .”



“Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me, Kingsley! What is the meaning of this?” She waved the memo wildly about. “How dare you cow tow to that blond-headed, lying sack of Slytherin dung! How dare you try to remove me from this project that you thrusted upon me!”



“Now, Hermione . . .” Even though he was the Minister of Magic and her supervisor, he knew better than to argue with her when she was like this.



“Let me make something perfectly clear, Kingsley. Any further attempts to bully me on any of these topics will be shot down by me. I will not resign from this project; this project is where it is because of me. End of discussion. If you try this nonsense again I will do the following, and not necessarily in this order: I’ll file charges against the Ministry for discrimination, I’ll turn in my resignation, I’ll take all the important contacts I’ve built in the Muggle world when I leave, I’ll also file a Cease and Desist Letter to DM Investments on all further research regarding the use of MY spell work to further the Muggle technology project. You can expect to have this project on hold indefinitely because I’ll keep it in front of the Wizengamot so long that every bit of technology that exists today will be obsolete and dead by the time a ruling is made. Do I make myself clear?”



Kingsley grinned a little crookedly. “Hermione, all you had to do was tell me you still wanted to work on the project.”



Hermione glared at the Minister and snarled. “I still want to work on this project, Minister.” She then turned on her heel and exited, leaving in her wake a perplexed and thoroughly shaken Kingsley.



He shook his head and sat back, muttering quietly, “Draco Malfoy is a dead man!”



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Lots happened. Well, looks like Hermione is going to kick some serious Malfoy arse! Revenge is sweet isn’t? She’s not done yet by the way. Not by a long shot!