The Price Of Knowledge

The Price of Knowledge


Epilogue



Seven Years Later


“Ms Granger! Another question!”

“Certainly – we have time for another?” I caught the eyes of my publicist in the back. Gerald gave me a rare thumbs up, indicating a green light. “We do. What’s on your mind?”

I was tired, but that was to be expected after spending the last three months touring Europe to talk about my latest book, ‘The Sexual Self in a Relationship.’ It was the follow up to my first, ‘The Sexual Self,’ which was a startling success. The tour had not been my first inclination – I just wanted to ride out the success working on a new study of sexual behavior, but my editor made it very much worth my while. The handsome bonus and publicity would not only benefit future research projects, but I could very easily and very comfortably live on the royalties of the books without having to work another day in my life.

I sat in front of a room of fans in a large chain bookstore in Notting Hill. This was the last stop on my book tour and I was glad. I could easily Apparate to my home in Piccadilly and retire to my favorite wing chair for the rest of the afternoon.

I could barely believe the crowd. It was humbling to have inspired so many others on their own sexual awakenings. My publisher was flooded with letters when my first book came off – it would take years to read them all, but so many were thank you notes. Women who never experienced an orgasm, partners who now had a more fulfilling sexual relationship, even men – thanking me for inspiring their partner’s renewed sexual interest.

There were also threats; Howlers sent defaming my ‘illicit, smut book filled with immoral ideas and inspiring promiscuity in teenagers’. I gave those letters the consideration of a grain of salt – the senders were frustrated, disgruntled, ignorant traditionalists who were afraid of anything that instilled change.

I took a sip of my tea and focused my attention to my questioner.

“I was wondering if you were involved with anyone - since your book is about intimacy in a relationship.” The asker was male, of course, with short brown hair and thick spectacles.

I hated questions that wanted me to reveal personal details. The only downside of having an ounce of fame is that everyone wanted to know everything about you. If they don’t ask outright, there are always paparazzi willing to hunt down the supposed dirt on you. Thankfully it was my research that intrigued people, not my life. Not entirely, anyway.

“Most of the research in my latest book was based on other couples I counseled last year combined with my own opinions and experience. If it contained simply my contributions, I assure you it would be pretty limited. I work too much to be emotionally available to anyone for the most part. I think even my friends are getting tired of telling me about their sex lives.”

That wasn’t really true. I spoke with Parvati frequently – she loved talking about sex, and was insanely helpful when I needed information relating to lesbians. On occasion she would reminisce about the one who stayed in the closet – Pansy. From what Parvati mentioned, Pansy was married to Marcus Flint, had two children, and was irrefutably unhappy.

The Weasley’s were another source of information – although you ought not to mention it at the table – no one knew that everyone confessed up their sex secrets, Mrs. Weasley being a great contributor, George not far behind.

“Well lasses and lords, it seems this be the end of Missy Granger’s readin’. We thank you all for comin’ here to enjoy her visit with us, and wish Missy Granger great success wit’ her new book. A reminder to all to make sure to get your broom passes validated when ye leave, and notice the wonderful selection of Merlin’s Marbles, The Boy That Played, all on sale now. Thanks!”

I watched the bookstore employee smile and the audience gave me a standing ovation, the applause dying and the store eventually emptied. I felt honored to have them all come to hear me, me of all people, speak.

“Well that was a bloody good show.” Gerald came over and patted me on the back. “I think that bloke at the end wanted to know if he could be part of your personal research though, if you know what I mean.”

I groaned. “Blimey, must you always say that. We all know what you mean, bloody perv.” I stood up, started to gather my things. “The tour was fun, but honestly, I’m going home to be a nobody for a while. I can’t wait to spend a day without getting dressed and going out.”

Gerald winked. “Can I come too?”

I was used to him by now, and despite his perverted nature, he was a good publicist. “Not unless you want me to use an Unforgivable.” I smiled at him very sweetly.

“Well before we take off, the owner wants to have a quick word. I believe he’s in the back right now, said he was sorry to miss the reading but had work to do.” Gerald pointed out the door marked ‘Office.’ “I’ll get this, you head over. He’s expecting you.”

I nodded, grabbing my purse and starting off. I knocked before entering, and closed the door behind me. “Hello, I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet earlier, but I-”

My breath caught in my throat.

There, at the old fashioned wooden desk sat Draco Malfoy. His hair was shorter, there were dark circles under his eyes, but he was exactly the same. And he looked…amazing.

“You were busy and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. What do you think of my shoppe?” he asked, his eyes shining in the soft light by his desk.

“What?” I managed to choke out. I was too stunned at seeing him after so long, looking at me with the same smug expression, the same arrogant grin. It was like no time had passed, two old friends meeting after never being apart. Shouldn’t there be some emotion lurking under the surface after we parted so abruptly?

He raised an eyebrow. “My bookshop. Well, one of them anyway. I was inspired by the Muggle chain Barnes and Noble – everything you could need in one shop, easily available via Owl or Floo, with various locations all over the UK. I would have figured you would appreciate that.”

“Yes, it’s very impressive,” I answered apprehensively. “Did you plan this?” No need to beat around the bush, he was too jovial for it to stir confidence.

“Did I ask your Publicist to make sure this was your last stop, you mean? Gerald and I go way back. He did the P.R for my first shoppe.” Draco leaned back in his chair, laid his laced fingers over his flat stomach. “I wanted to see you.”

“You could have Owled a lot sooner.”

“So could you,” he replied simply.

“That’s true.” I purposely hadn’t for a long time. I didn’t know what to say to him. ‘Sorry you got sucked into my mess, don’t hate me because I was too self involved to think of anyone’s feelings.’ Or even better: ‘…Well that didn’t work, but you’re still the best shag ever. Here’s my Floo address.’.

I still didn’t know how I felt about him. I was physically very much attracted to him. But who wouldn’t be? There was never anything amiss on his person; he was gorgeous. He was, however, an arrogant, snobby git to the core. He was clever, witty and occasionally very thoughtful – well, when it suited him.

“Well, you’re doing well for yourself,” I said, breaking the awkward silence and looking away from those familiar steel eyes. “The bookstores…”

“I also own a few publishing houses. Supply and demand,” he interrupted.

“An economist and a philanthropist. I’m guessing, you’re married too?” I tried to sound casual, even pretended to fiddle with his fancy business cards that swirled his names and even fancier job titles. Prat.

“Nope.”

I was so surprised by the news I dropped the cards. I was smooth. I dropped down in front of his desk to pick them up. “Really? That’s interesting.” So what happened with the inheritance? I wondered, although I was strangely relieved to hear him say it.

“You can just ask me,” he replied casually, too casually. He was leaning over his desk, watching me, on the floor, picking up his stupid Nancy-boy business cards. “How did I do all this if I didn’t have the money from my parents? Come on. You want to be dazzled by my ingenuity.”

I slammed his cards on his desk, met his eyes levelly. “Fine. How did you do it, Draco?” I purposely drawled out his name. I could remember the last time it was on my lips. I was having an orgasm and getting in trouble all at the same time.

“I decided to give it up.”

“Yeah, right.” My arms folded under my breasts in disbelief. I took a seat on the edge of his desk, my back to him. “You’re going to tell me you gave it to charity next, right? I look that thick?”

He chuckled. “No, you don’t look thick. You look pretty good, actually,” he answered, his lips so close to my ear his voice hummed against my eardrum. I shivered, I couldn’t help it. He walked around his desk and leaned beside me, his body touching mine purposely. “Seems unreal, but I did.”

“Please. I would have read it. ‘Malfoy heir gives up fortune.’ The Daily Prophet would have had a field day.”

“No, I did it inconspicuously so no one would know. I gave a portion to St Mungos, a portion to Hogwarts. The rest went who knows where, my solicitor handled it.”

“But…why?” I asked, turning to meet his even stare. He wasn’t lying. I could tell when Draco told the explicit truth, his eyes became brighter. Not so much that you would notice under normal circumstances though.

“You once said, what’s the point of so much money if you couldn’t do good with it. I agreed…somewhat. Why be good and poor or bad and rich, when you could be good and rich? Besides I didn’t so much like being the World’s most eligible bachelor. Women throwing themselves at you all the time. It’s hard work being so desirable. I don’t wake up looking this good.” He did, for the most part, egotistical arse. “Women used to throw their knickers at me! Knickers, Granger, unsolicited from crazy strange women you don’t want to shag is not a grand gesture. It’s bloody scary. They would Floo me at all hours of the night, I couldn’t sleep. It was a nightmare. I mean, I could have withstood the agony of aggressive women, but they were all money-grubbing crazies! I understand that on occasion I may be used for my handsome physique, but for my wallet. Even I have standards.”

I shot him a dirty look. “I’d like to feel sorry for you, but amidst the troubling fact these ‘money grubbing crazies’ wanted to use you for your money, you reminded me how large and over inflated your head is. How do you get inside?” He only grinned at me. “So, what did you do?”

“I gathered a brigade of them and took them to my solicitor’s office, who informed them I had no inheritance. Some stayed on, thinking it was a trick, but they eventually caught on and ran off. I was almost hurt, but I still had their knickers to dry my tears. Now, how did I manage after giving up the inheritance? You should know that it’s never wise to keep all your wands in one case. My parents had many faults, but planning was not one of them. I had a well-stocked vault at Gringotts aside from the money I would have received upon being tied to the ball and chain. I used the gold there to start investing, starting with the same medium that had caused me so much grief: the media. I purchased The Quibbler to start, then progressed. And here I am today, beside you, overseeing the end of my favorite book’s tour.”

“You’ve read my book?”

“Both of them.”

“And?” I was curious. “What did you think?”

“You’re writing is factual, engaging, to the point, although I personally feel it lacks style, it has its moments. I certainly enjoyed the chapter on masturbation in the first book, but my favorite was the chapter on honesty from the second. What did you write again? ‘While an open heart is essential to a relationship, an open mind is as much so to a sexual one. The contract between lovers is unspoken, although not always unwritten.’ That paragraph just spoke to me. It was like, literary magic. Funny, isn’t it?”

“Hilarious.”

“I’m glad to hear you agree.” He nudged me with his elbow and our eyes met again. “But you have to stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“The look that says I’m the devil.”

“I don’t think you’re the devil.”

“That sounds like a lie.” He winked. “I’m not going to bite. Well, not unless you ask me to,” he murmured against my ear.

“Draco,” I said his name again. “Why are you pretending nothing happened? Over seven years ago…”

He put a finger over my lips to hush me. “Seven years ago, we made a mess. I figured one day we could start it over. Free from school and all the drama and bullshit it entailed. As grown ups.”

“Really. So when are you planning to grow up?” I regretted my bitchy comment right away.

His hand went to his chest. “Oi, your words wound me. Thankfully I have a big ego and can tolerate your abuse. That being said, we’re going for dinner tonight.”

“We are, are we?”

He nodded, brushing an arrant strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingertips brush my face. “We are. I know a fabulous Muggle restaurant I plan to buy one day. We’ll have wine, we will talk and you will try to get into my pants. I will say ‘I’m not that sort of bloke,’ and kiss you goodnight before I Floo home to my ever so cold bed. You will wait for the perfunctory three days before you Floo me again, bringing over a picnic of culinary delights and maybe, just maybe I’ll let you get to third base.”

“You have this so planned out. How do you know I’ll go with you?”

“Because of those nice earrings you are wearing.”

My fingers immediately reached for them. The bewitched diamond studs he had gotten me so long ago. I rarely took them off…I don’t really know why…unless…

“You know, I still have the contract.”

“You don’t say.”

“Maybe later we could look at it together. Rewrite some of the terms and conditions,” I suggested, licking my lips.

“I don’t know, there may be a few things I might want to keep.” He was close, too close. I felt his body heat, could practically taste…

My brain wouldn’t shut up and enjoy the moment; it was too caught up in the past to enjoy the present. “But what about…”

“Shut it, Granger.” I didn’t even get the chance – he kissed me. His lips were soft and inviting, pliable. He let me lead; let me put my tongue in his mouth, my hands in his hair. It was as if I was coming home after spending years in purgatory. I remembered this kiss, his kiss, and it was wonderful.

He stepped back, leaving me wanting more. I took a deep breath. “I am sorry…for everything that happened. It was my fault.”

“I know. I didn’t help. Neither did Dumbledore or the general circumstances. I don’t hold it against anyone – you live, you learn, you move on. Well, without forgetting the good stuff.” He winked and smirked at me again, and I suddenly felt lighter. He just had that effect on people. It was refreshing to hear Malfoy, of all people, have such a laid back outlook in spite of everything. If he could overcome so much and still retain his charm…it gave me hope.

“So I’m taking you for dinner,” I confirmed.

“That’s right. And we’re eating dessert. I know you’ve been busy, but really, doesn’t Gerald feed you?”

I rolled my eyes. “You seem to have thought this out. I should have guessed I’d have no way to resist.”

“You should have,” he replied assuredly, placing a gentle peck on my lips. I pulled in closer as he pushed back. “You think I’m going to give it all up right away? You have to work for it if you want to get into my pants.”

“Fucking tease,” I laughed.

So as one thing ended in my life, here was a new thing. Well, a new old thing. It would be fun to repay some of the old debt this time round. Definitely older, somewhat wiser, hopefully more available, and not nearly enough punishments and no one else to consider. Who knows what could happen now?

It’s true what they say – things do come full circle.

It would be fun to find out how much.



FIN

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