Second Time Around

When Hermione went back inside, Jadie ran up to her with a piece of parchment in her long fingers. Hermione unfolded it and stared at the neatly scrawled words:

Stay tonight, get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll go over some more paperwork.

D.M

“Thank you, Jadie,” she mumbled and the little elf took off. Hermione tapped the parchment into the palm of her left hand and chewed her lip. Should she stay? Or should she suck up her pride and go to Ginny and Harry?

Her stomach twisted at the thought of having to explain everything. Besides, what if he was there? She couldn’t face him, not yet. So she roamed the enormous house and found what she assumed was Malfoy’s office. Digging out a parchment and quill she wrote two notes, one to her office to send in some paperwork for her to do while she was here and another to Gin to ask for a dinner with her and Harry tomorrow night. She reluctantly called for Jadie to find an owl to take her letters. While waiting for responses, she took to the gardens, walking in the sultry air, stopping to smell exotic flowers. She looked up when an owl perched itself on a branch above her and thrust a letter at her. That was odd, she wasn’t expecting an answer for hours at least, she was all the way in Greece, for goodness sakes!

She took the letter and with shaky hands noticed that it was closed with the Weasley seal. Steeling herself, her breath stuttered at the untidy scrawl:

Hermione,

I’m sorry you’re upset, but can you please just come home so we can talk about this? I don’t want to fight. I know you said some things last night that you regret, but I forgive you. So please don’t make a big deal out of this and come home. There’s no need to make a scene.

Ron

Screaming in rage she ripped the letter in half then in half again, and again. She threw the pieces up into the air and stomped off, hands ripping at her hair. Was he serious? Was this some type of joke? Did he really think that she was just overreacting? He obviously did not know her very well because she had no intention of going back.

Ever.

She fumed at his insolence, at his pure nerve to act like she was “making a scene”. What a jerk! How had she stayed married to him for five years? She deserved a trophy at least!

She could feel a migraine brewing behind her eyes. She was used to it by now, had suffered many over the past couple of years. She had a stressful job and hated coming home. One was bound to get headaches from such. She promised herself that she and Crookshanks would find their own little apartment, somewhere in the city maybe. They could be free to do what they wanted, when they wanted and would never have to worry about “putting on a public face” again. Trying to think positive, Hermione headed back inside and sat at Malfoy’s immaculate desk to begin writing a statement on Veritag Legrarious’ fourth offense of flying his magic carpet over the Louvre because he wanted a “better view”. She dove into her work and was relieved when the owl bringing a thick packet of paperwork landed in front of her. Now, she could get into her real work. She felt guilty for taking this day as she knew a little girl had gone missing four days ago and they were nowhere close to locating her. Along with the papers was a note from Ken Michaels with the newest on the case. She dove into her work and forgot about everything else.


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“What are you doing?”

Hermione jumped at the stern words, whipping off her reading glasses when the figure in the doorway blurred. It was Malfoy and he looked pissed.

“I’m sorry! How rude of me, I should have asked before…I’ll move everything right away. I swear I haven’t been through any of your things I would never-,”

“Would you stop rambling for two seconds?” he snapped, moving towards her. She felt terrible; she never should have just barged into his personal office, doing as she pleased. She should have just flooed back to work. “I told you you were free to stay in my house, that gives you permission to enter any room that pleases you.”

“Oh…well thank you.” Why was he so upset then? At the mess? She glanced around d herself. Papers were scattered every which way and a few floated to her right where her observation board usually was.

“Why are you working?” he asked.

“Well, I had a few things to catch up on and this case that-,”

“Stop,” he held out his hand as if directing traffic. “Why are you working?”

“Malfoy, is there a problem with me working?”

“There is when you are supposed to be resting. You have more than enough vacation time built up to take a much needed holiday. I didn’t bring you here so you could bury yourself in more work. I brought you here so you could relax and forget about all your responsibilities, not so you could catch up on work that probably didn’t need it in the first place.”

“I-,” he held up his hand again and she was beginning to feel like a naughty child.

“Enough. Put it away and go get dressed. Dinner with be served in twenty minutes.” He turned as if to walk away but she stopped him.

“Dressed? What do you mean? I am dressed.” She looked down at the jeans and t-shirt she had recovered from the armoire.

He crooked an eyebrow and she could suddenly see a flash of the child who had taunted her in school. “Try something a little more…ostentatious. I’ll see you in twenty.”

He left and she huffed. Who was he to tell her she didn’t look good enough for dinner? What was this, some nineteenth century high-class soiree? It was just the two of them, what did it matter if she was in jeans or not?

Well, if he wanted ostentatious, he was going to get it. Gathering her mess with her wand, Hermione grabbed the overstuffed packet and hurried upstairs. She would need every last of the twenty minutes she had to prepare.

Seventeen minutes later she crumpled her eyebrows and turned in the mirror, scowling at the low back of the dress she wore. The deep midnight blue silk hung far too low on her back, the scoop stopping just above her derriere. She had chosen it for its modest top, a square cut which fell into thick straps that held onto the side of the dress rather than the back. The dress fell to the floor in generous folds and she couldn’t help but play with them just a little bit, running her hands over and over the soft fabric. She’d never worn something so opulent…or risqué.

It’s not that bad… she thought, cocking her head to the side. So it has a low back, big deal. At least your breasts aren’t popping out of it like the others would have most certainly done!

It was true, this was probably as modest as she was going to get in that so-called wardrobe Malfoy has supplied. She checked her light makeup one last time, patted her hair which was up in a riot of curls and nodded. She was satisfied.

Clicking in the strappy midnight heels which went with the dress, Hermione hurried down the stairs towards the dining room. She was almost there when someone caught her elbow.

“You’re late,” a deep voice said. She looked up into the grey eyes of Malfoy.

“Barely,” she scoffed.

“Hmm,” he looked her up and down, his eyes growing dark. “Excellent choice. You look beautiful.”

Hermione had to fight the blush that begged to creep to her cheeks. “You look very nice yourself.”

He was wearing a black suit of the softest material she had ever laid eyes on. She itched to touch it, to run her hands over his strong shoulders. His midnight blue shirt was open at the collar, keeping the outfit from feeling too stuffy or formal.

“As you can see, I was hoping you would pick that dress.”

“Oh, really? There were many to choose from, how were you so sure I would pick this particular dress?”

“Because I put it in there specifically for you,” he drawled.

“Me? But…you couldn’t have known I was coming…”

He smirked and led the way into the dining room. She raised her eyebrows when he pulled out a chair. This was starting to get weird.

“Malfoy, why does this have to be so…formal?” she asked, laying her cloth napkin in her lap and smoothing it out. Jadie stumbled into the room carrying a bottle of red wine while two others came behind her, dressed just as well, one carrying a silver bucket full of ice and the other carrying two glasses. Jadie poured a bit for Malfoy to try and, when he accepted it, she poured Hermione some as well and put the rest into the bucket which was hefted onto the table by the other two. Hermione moved to help but Malfoy stilled her. When they left he explained, “You don’t want to insult them. By helping them it’s as if they cannot do it themselves.”

“It’s a disgusting display of power,” she mumbled.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that.” He swirled his wine and took a sip.

“You’re evading my question.”

He studied her for a moment before replacing the glass on the table and leaning back against the soft cushion of his chair. “House rules,” he stated.

“It’s your house…”

He smirked his signature smirk and watched the house-elves march in with platters upon platters of delicious food. When they left she turned to Malfoy. “Why do they make so much? They must know we couldn’t possibly eat all this!”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling. Dear Merlin, he had gorgeous eyes…

"They know I will send it to the orphanage so they make enough to feed the children. I don’t mind. They know I know and I have given my consent. It’s a mutual understanding.”

“That’s a very kind thing for you to do,” she commented.

“I have more than enough. Someone taught me the gift of giving and I expect to make the best of it.”

His eyes bore into her and she looked away, embarrassed. How could he stare that long and not feel the nerves she was throwing off in waves? This was ridiculous, she was a married woman! Albeit, not for very long but she still was and she would honor her marriage vows even if that ungrateful bastard didn’t. She would leave tomorrow and stay with Harry and Ginny until she could find a place, that’s all there was to it.

The dinner was a quiet one with simple conversation. When the elves took the plate away and brought out the after-dinner coffee Hermione stood.

“Thank you very much for the lovely evening and for all your hospitality. You have been most gracious and I really do appreciate it more than I can say.”

“But?”

“But I can’t accept your invitation to stay. I’m a married woman and it’s not proper. I hope you’re not offended…” She worried her hands as she waited for his reply. She sincerely hoped he didn’t drop her case for her rudeness, she needed his expertise. But he simply smiled and stood.

“I am not offended, Miss Granger. I understand your discomfort. I will still extend to you an invitation to my household whenever you feel you should need it. Do not hesitate to drop by whether I am here or away.”

“Thank you very much,” she said, wholly relieved that he took her dismissal so well.

“We should make a time to finish up the preliminary paperwork. Do you have time tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “I work but possibly after…it would be a bit late…”

“I stay up very late. What time would be good for you?”

“Erm…nine?”

“Nine it is then, my office.”

“So, I guess I’ll see you then?”

“I guess so.”

He stepped forward and took her hand, dropping a kiss onto it so tender she felt her heart melt. This was definitely not the Draco Malfoy she remembered.

“Sweet dreams, mon cher.”

“You too,” she said breathlessly, wondering at the swift flutter of her heart. She pulled her limp hand from his and backed away; more than a little nervous at the reaction she had created within her. She needed to leave, and fast. Tomorrow would not do. She had to get out, now, tonight. Picking up the long train of her borrowed dress she hurried through the house to the front door. She pulled it open, her heart hammering. What had gotten into her? She had left her husband less than twenty-four hours ago and already she was thinking about another man! More than thinking, she was eating dinner with and staying in the same house as another man! What kind of harlot was she?

She tumbled down the steps to the dark beach, the sand sucking her heels down. She ripped them off and held them in one hand, the end of the dress in her other. She ran until she hit the edge of the water and gasped at the chill. She allowed the water to lap at her feet as she walked forward, orienting herself.

Your hormones are on high alert, there’s nothing going on here. Malfoy is simply being friendly, just giving a friend a place to stay in a time of need.

Except that they weren’t friends, they had never been friends. They had never been close, hardly ever spoke. He had hated her in school, she had loathed him right back. The only reason she didn’t feel that way now was because she had forced herself to let it go, let the past die. She had helped him in that one circumstance but that was it. It meant nothing.

Then why would he be doing all this for you? Why should a virtual stranger be offering this sort of help and why in Merlin’s name are you accepting it?

She was shook up, just a little shook up. Breaking off a five year marriage was bound to throw anyone off a little. Especially since she knew what she did about him.

Hermione spun around, dropping the end of the dress where it swirled in the calf high water around her when she felt a pair of eyes boring into her. She met his steely gaze from the front steps, his wine glass in hand. He looked surreal standing there in nice clothes with the pearlescent house ablaze with lights behind him. And here she was, in a dress she could never afford in three lifetimes, standing shin-deep in the Sea of Crete looking up at him. She waited for him to come to her, to yell at her for ruining the dress, to urge her into the house, but he did not. He simply stayed where he was until she nodded to him and aparated to the only other place she had.

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A/N: Hey there, sorry so long on the update. I hope this busy schedule of mine does not stay this way! Anyway, hope you enjoyed, these two have a rocky climb ahead.

XOXO

RynStar15