Tin Angel

--Le sigh--…All those lovely reviews, gone. I was up to 42. They were so wonderful, too. I really aime you all a lot. If you want a swift update, do feel free to re-review :) as I often turn to them for encouragement when I’m struggling with part of the story (and this upcoming chappie is giving me trouble.) Also, (I believe it was mentioned in a lost review) don’t worry about leaving long reviews. We authors luuurve it when you do that; the longer the better!


Post Hogwarts: A chance encounter with Hermione Granger in a Muggle café leaves Draco Malfoy aching for more. D/Hr with mentions of BW/Hr, H/G, and R/L. Disregards the events of HBP. Please review!


Disclaimer: Things I own: A map of the People’s Republic of China. A small stuffed llama. A videocassette of taped episodes of that Hugh Laurie show. A couple of copies of the Harry Potter books. Things I do NOT own: The People’s Republic of China. A real llama. Hugh Laurie. Harry Potter.

Tin Angel


* * * 2 * * *


Draco Malfoy strolled into the corporate offices of Malfoy Enterprises the next day, feeling almost chipper enough to smile at the security guards and various employees as he passed. He scowled at them instead, biting the insides of his cheeks and furrowing his brow, until he stepped into his private lift and allowed himself to smirk smugly at his reflection in the shiny brass doors.


He’d spent another two hours with Hermione the night before, thumbing through crates full of dusty old LPs and trying to find inconspicuous ways to touch her. A brush of the hand against her arm. A nudge of the shoulder if she said something funny. Leaning over her to see what album she was examining allowed him the double pleasure of brushing slightly against her backside and smelling her hair. Lavender. Maybe a hint of vanilla.


Draco stepped off the lift and sauntered into the reception area of his company’s executive offices, nodding at his at his secretary.


“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” his secretary greeted, stepping out from behind her desk to hand him his mail and various paperwork requiring signatures. “Mr. Zabini is waiting inside, sir.”


“Excellent.” Draco said and strode into his office. He’d appointed Blaise as President of Malfoy Enterprises the moment he’s assumed the corporate reins following graduation, wanting someone he trusted implicitly as his right-hand-man instead of the senile, old dodgers his father had favored. Blaise had quickly proven himself a highly capable and calculating businessman, and Draco lavishly rewarded his dedication and ingenuity.


Blaise was already sitting in one of the leather armchairs opposite his desk, his morning reports resting on his leg in a neat stack. Draco walked up and clapped him on the shoulder in greeting. “Morning Blaise. How was the Arrows game last night?”


“Smashing.” Blaise replied in his usual smooth, even voice. “Arrows trampled all over the Harpies. No doubt we can expect the same with the Cannon’s next week.”


“Capital. Perhaps I’ll put in an appearance myself. I’ve not used the box in ages.” Draco mused, dropping his papers onto his desk and lounging back in his chair to face his friend.


Blaise seemed to note his good mood, regarding him carefully before speaking. “Have we had a breakthrough with those bastards at Keating that I’m not aware of or did you just have a monumental lay last night?”


Draco actually laughed, “Neither actually. Just a rather pleasant evening. Though I wouldn’t mind hearing that we’ve made progress with the Keating deal.”


“Nothing substantial yet, but we have several meetings lined up and a dinner appointment scheduled for you and Pete Keating in two weeks. Regarding our investments in…”


As Blaise reviewed their morning notes, Draco found his mind drifting off, thinking again of his run-in with Hermione. She’d seemed willing enough to be friendly with him. How would she react if he pursued her more intimately? His first slip up had warned him enough about her sensitivity regarding her romantic history. He’d not dared to ask if she was currently seeing anyone. Of course, there were other ways to come about such information.


“…and the profits from our Imported Textiles division are up 7% for the quarter…”


“Blaise?” Draco interrupted suddenly. “What do you know about Hermione Granger?”


“Granger? Well, let’s see…best friend of Harry Potter, finished top in our year at school, currently employed as an International Liaison for Gringotts, sits on the Board of Trustees of Legal Aide for Magical Brethren, various connections to the ministry via the Weasley’s, various connections to the Prophet and Witch Weekly through former dorm mates, …I think she’s married to the oldest Weasley, I believe his name is Bill.”


“I’d thought so, too, but no, she’s not married to him. He married that Delacour girl from the Triwizard.”


“Oh? I hadn’t heard. Is Granger stirring up trouble with our workers in the goblin division? We’ve been very careful, everything is to code.”


“No, no, nothing like that. I was merely curious what you knew about her.”


Almost imperceptibly, Blaise quirked an eyebrow and Draco groaned internally. They’d been friends since they were in nappies, and consequently, Blaise was one of the few people who could read him when he was attempting to feign indifference. An ability that proved invaluable during business negotiations and maddening when attempting a game of chess or cards.


“You’re trying to get into her knickers, then?” Blaise queried, the corner of his mouth twitching with a suppressed smirk.


“What? Don’t be ridiculous. I was simply curious what you— What?— bugger off, you bloody wanker— Oh fine! I ran into her yesterday after work and she’s bloody gorgeous! I even managed to get her to forgo her wand and actually talk to me. Merlin, Blaise, I had no idea women could be like that. She brilliant and witty and fascinating and she has the sexiest little laugh, and, Gods, it was all I could do not to drag her into an alley and snog her senseless.” Draco rambled, running his hands through his pale hair wearily.


“Yes, as if snogging is what happens when men and women are alone in alleyways.”


“I was trying to be tasteful.” Draco sniffed, “Although, she had on the most delectable little yellow sundress. I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be hotter to peel it off her or simply bunch it up round her waist if I were to shag her in the alley.”


“Are you going to see her again?”


“She said I could owl her if I ever wanted to meet up again.”


“As if you would pay any heed to whether or not she granted you an invitation.” Blaise snorted.


“Indeed. I think I’ll owl her after lunch. Should I bother asking if you disapprove?”


“Well, she is a Muggle-born.” Blaise wrinkled his nose, as though the stench of her lowliness could be discerned from where he sat. “However, with the state of politics today and her undeniably powerful connections, it would be justifiably easy to overlook that one factor. If she intrigues you, I can see little fault in pursuing whatever interests you have in the girl.”


Draco smirked. Leave it to Blaise to strip away all notions of romance and sex, and reduce everything to business and politics.


“You know what, you’re right, Blaise. There isn’t any good reason not to pursue her.” As he spoke he reached over and tapped his wand to a small black button on the corner of his desk. A moment later his secretary popped her head through the door.


“Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”


“Elinor, clear a spot in my schedule this afternoon. Place a call to Gringott’s and make an appointment with one of their advisors regarding setting up a new account.”


“What kind of account, sir?”


“I have no preference; savings, investment, whatever you like, so long as I must go in person to discuss it. Oh, and Elinor, make sure whomever I meet with is on the same floor as the International Liaison Division.”



* * *


“Well, I’m not surprised she’s pregnant again. What do you expect, considering her mother?” said a very solemn Luna Weasley between bites of her hummus and pickle sandwich. “I’d wager a small pile of galleons that there are a few ancient stone idols of Cybele or Ishtar buried on their property and contaminating their water supply. How else can you explain women having that many babies?”


“Perhaps they’re just rubbish at contraceptive charms. Or maybe Harry’s just convinced Ginny how cool it would be to beget their very own Quidditch team.” Hermione offered, rooting around in her fruit salad for another strawberry.


“All the same, I never drink the water when I’m there, just in case.”


“Really? Never? I hadn’t noticed that.”


“I have a water skin made from a goat I used to know. I take it with me whenever we go to the Burrow. I’ll share with you if you ‘d like. You can never be too careful.”


“I’ll keep that in mind next time I take a lover.” Hermione said with a slight smile and blushed a bit.


Luna smiled back and took another bite of her sandwich. That was why she liked Hermione so much. She would never be able to discuss the news of Ginny’s latest pregnancy with any of her Weasley relations without them turning the topic around on Luna, and asking when she and Ron were finally going to start having babies. She positively loathed having to explain again and again that, with Ron’s career as Keeper for Puddlemere United and her own work writing for the Quibbler, they simply hadn’t the time for children yet. Hermione, much to Luna’s relief, seemed to find nothing unusual in this and had never questioned her on the matter.


Since her marriage to Ron six years ago, Luna had come to be rather good friends with Hermione Granger. Though they’d had little in common as schoolgirls, Luna found that graduation and the end of the war had been very good for Hermione. Without the constant stress of schoolwork and the daunting task of keeping Harry and Ron alive, Hermione had relaxed considerably. She enjoyed her job and easily excelled at it, giving her a sense of quiet confidence and good humor that carried over into her personal life.


Luna had been delighted when Bill Weasley had started dating Hermione five years earlier. Though she adored her sister-in-law, she couldn’t help but find Ginny’s preoccupation with her role as Harry’s wife and the importance of being a Mommy tiresome, and was pleased to be able to pass the numerous Weasley family dinners and parties talking to sweet and smart Hermione.


When the relationship between Bill and her friend abruptly ended, Luna had felt rather crushed herself. She had nothing against Fleur, she was a nice enough girl, but Luna much preferred Hermione and had feared their friendship would diminish. However, Ron and Harry would hear nothing of Hermione extricating herself from their tight circle, and Luna herself made it a point to meet her friend for lunch as often as possible, as they were doing now.


“So, they had you out in Kathmandu for a few days again last week, yes? How was it?” Luna asked.


“Brief but enjoyable. The negotiations went well. I’m sure our people will be in within a month or two.”


“Did you get to see any of the area this time?”


“A bit more. They showed me the area around Pashupatinath, which is where Gringott’s interests lie. I was treated to several meals in the Thamel district and managed to catch a Newar folk performance. The area is beautiful, especially east of the city towards the Himalayas. You and Ron should keep it in mind for your next holiday. Very romantic. Next week I’m off to Venice for two days.”


“Venice? We’ve heard rumors that a rogue band of Bunyips have migrated in and taken up residence in the canals. They like to eat women, you know. Do be careful when you are walking around there. Strange business, that.”


“Indeed? I’ll be sure to look into it before I leave. Speaking of strange business, you’ll never believe whom I ran into at a café yesterday. Draco Malfoy.”


“Sweet Merlin!” Luna exclaimed, abandoning her sandwich and looked her friend over with concern. “You poor darling. Was it awful? Did he hex you? Did you hex him?”


“No, no, nothing like that.” Hermione laughed, waving off Luna’s concern. “It was the strangest thing, actually. He was nice to me. He sat down at my table and bought me a cup of tea and we talked for a couple of hours.”


“For a couple of hours? Goodness Hermione, whatever about?”


“All sorts of things. Books, music, films. Mundane topics mostly and a lot of harmless teasing. We didn’t discuss anything personal…except…well, at one point he confessed that he’d realized all that Pureblood/Mudblood business was a bunch of rot and apologized for being an awful prat during school.”


“No!” Luna gasped.


“Yes.” Hermione said, still scarcely believing it herself. “He was even reading a book by a Muggle author. By choice. And enjoying it.”


“No!” Luna gasped again.


“I know. And I actually enjoyed talking to him so much I invited him to go music shopping with me. It was so much fun. I think its possible we might even become friends.”


Luna just stared at her friend in wonder. Being the woman she was, there were very few things Luna found hard to believe, and the idea of Draco Malfoy attempting to befriend Hermione Granger was certainly one of them. “Do you think he’s gone mad? Perhaps his parents’ deaths were too much for him and he’s gone round the bend. Or maybe he’s been possessed? That old manor is surely full of malignant spirits.”


“An interesting theory,” Hermione said gently, “but really I think maybe he’s just grown-up.


Luna shrugged and smiled at her friend, a bit of her normal dreaminess drifting back into her eyes. “Well, insufferable bastard that he was, Malfoy was always rather easy on the eyes. How did he look?”


“Ron would have an aneurysm if he ever heard you say that!” Hermione laughed. “He looked well, I suppose. Fit, healthy. Impeccably dressed, as always. I bet the price of his shoes alone could more than cover my rent.”


“You know what I meant.” Luna chided in the same dreamy tone. “Is he still a dish?”


“I dunno. I suppose so. He plays in an informal Quidditch league for fun, so he keeps himself fit. Ok—fine!” she exclaimed with a laugh at the exasperated look Luna gave her, “He’s grown into a rather handsome man. I had no trouble looking at him during our conversation. And…he has rather nice teeth.” She added softly.


Luna noted the slight blush in her friend’s cheeks and smiled lazily at her. “Are you going to date him?”


“Oh Luna!” Hermione snorted. “We’ve hardly even become friends. Really, now, I doubt anyone could change that much.”


“Are you going to shag him, then?” Luna asked as Hermione took a sip of her water.


“Luna!” Hermione choked, coughing a bit of water into her fruit salad. “Bloody Merlin, what’s gotten into you? I’d be crazy to shag him. Ron and Harry would disown me! And they’d have you sent to St. Mungo’s just for suggesting it! And they’d probably hunt Malfoy down and disembowel him just for the hell of it.”


Luna simply smiled and shrugged, taking up her sandwich for another bite.

* * *


Draco spotted her the moment he stepped out of that prig, Bisentongue’s office, and took a deep calming breath, willing away the small knot of nerves that tightened in his stomach, as his feet carried him towards her. She was standing a ways down the corridor with her back to him, next to the tiniest goblin Draco had ever seen, and facing a large oafish man at least twice her size.


Her brown curls were gathered in a loose knot at the back of her head and she wore her neat, pressed Gringotts robes open over what he hoped was another sundress. He drew nearer, then paused, noting her rigid posture and the defiant upward turn of her chin as she glared icily up at the large man opposite her.


“If I ever hear you saying such things to any of them again,” she warned, her voice so calm and cold, even Blaise would have been impressed, “so help me, I will have you sacked faster than you can string together two words in your defense.”


Draco was more than impressed. A crackle of power seemed to radiate off her slight frame and the large man’s eyes grew wide as he gulped nervously. This, Draco thought, is the witch who helped bring down the darkest wizard known to history.


The man glanced quickly down at the tiny goblin, then nodded shakily at Hermione before spinning on his heel and hurrying off down the corridor. When he’d disappeared into a doorway, the little goblin said something that Draco couldn’t make out, and Hermione giggled, the curls at the back of her head trembling with her laughter. She watched the little goblin walk away and he steeled himself to make his move.


On silent feet, Draco closed the distance between them, stopping just behind her and leaning down so his lips were inches from the shell of her ear.


“ ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce. Well roared, Lion.’ ”


She jumped slightly at the first sound of his voice, but did not whirl around to scold him too. Instead, she tilted her head just slightly toward him, exposing the slender curve of her neck as though inviting him to taste it.


“And what of you, serpent?” she murmured, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “Do you always greet with prose? Fancy yourself a modern day Savinien? Or are you just Christian de Neuvillette, gaining favor with another man’s words?”


“So long as favor is gained, the means are of little consequence. Do you really think me a serpent, little Lion?” he teased, aching to press his mouth to the soft skin just below her ear.


“I was attempting to be polite and improvised. I could have stuck with the canon of your choosing and called you an ass.”


He chuckled and she turned to face him, her little smile blossoming into a grin.


“What are you doing here, Malfoy? Yesterday not enough for you? Feeling so wretched for friends, the misanthropic façade is crumbling?” she asked, cheekily.


“Yes, Granger, the pain was so acute I couldn’t bear to spend another moment apart from the glory of your presence.” he declared, flashing her an exaggerated grimace. “Actually,” he continued, “I had an appointment with someone in your trade department regarding a few of my overseas accounts.”


“Oh? Why didn’t you mention it yesterday?” she asked curiously.


Damn her, he thought, holding in a snort, “I rarely trouble myself to remember minor meetings such as these. My secretary keeps track of my schedule.”


She seemed to accept that answer, nodding and then querying, “Which of those International Accounts idiots did you have the pleasure of meeting with?”


“A weedy fellow, by the name of Roderick Bisentongue. Simpering little whelp, isn’t he.”


“Behind his back, I always call him Bassington-Bassington.” She smiled guiltily.


“As in, ‘I’ve just had a rummy appointment with old Bassington-Bassington?’ ” Draco asked, eliciting a nod and chuckle from Hermione. “I’d say the comparison is dead accurate.”


“So,” he said, deciding to go in for the kill, “as we have already established my inability to carry on breathing in the absence of your rapturous company, I thought I might inquire about your plans for tomorrow. Or do they make you slaves come in to count piles of Galleons on the weekends?”


Hermione laughed and shook her head no, so he continued, “They are having a festival in the park all day tomorrow. There’s going to be an auction of rare wines, but its all Muggle currency. It would be nice to have someone around to help me keep track of the exchange rate, lest I bid away my entire estate.”


“Seems like I’ll be counting Galleons no matter what I do,” she teased, “The only leverage you have is the prospect of sunshine, eh?”


“Don’t forget the pleasure of my company, Granger. I might even be persuaded to throw in lunch.”


“How could a girl say no to that?” she laughed, and Draco desperately fought down the mutinous grin that threatened to take over his face.


* * * * *

Author’s Notes/References:
* I’m sure you were hoping for a bit more D/Hr interaction, but I felt the need to set up a few other things in this chapter. To be perfectly honest, I almost did the setup for the date via owl, but after all those fantastic reviews, I felt overcome with guilt for shafting you all like that. I felt so good after all the wonderful things you said that I rewrote the end in gratitude. Hope it whets your appetite, the next chapter will be the “first date.”

* ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’ and ‘ Well roared, Lion.’ are two separate quotes from A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare, as is Hermione’s reference to being an ass.

* Savinien is the first name of the man who was the basis for the play Cyrano de Bergerac, by Edmond Rostand. Christian de Neuvillette is the man who passes off Cyrano’s wit and poeticism as his own to win the heart of the beautiful Roxanne.

* Cyril Bassington-Bassington is my shout out to the brilliant P.G. Wodehouse. Cyril is a character from the hilarious Jeeves and Wooster short stories. I think one of the BBC Fry/Laurie J & W episodes centered on this character as well.