Everything You Need

Disclaimer: I don\'t own anything associated with HP, all characters belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury/Scholastic Press and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made off of this work of fiction.
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She wasn\'t quite sure when it happened. But as long as she could remember, for the last ten years, she\'d been carrying a torch for him. It was crazy, no, insane. He\'d done nothing more than treat her like dirt under his feet. And God help her, even that seemed rather appealing. The patented sneer so like his father\'s; the cold disdain so like his mother\'s. And all wrapped up in an impossibly handsome package. It was almost too much for a sane witch to bear.

After the fall of the Dark Lord, they moved in the same circles. It was sheer torture having to see him on the arm of a different woman every time they were at an event. He favoured women with aristocratic features, like Alicia Spinnet, who\'d only grown more lovely with each passing year. Even Pansy Parkinson had managed to outgrow the smushed-in nature of her features. It nearly broke her heart the night she\'d attended the Ministry\'s annual charity fete for St. Mungo\'s children\'s ward to find *him* on the arm of Ginny Weasley.

They\'d never shared more than a terse word after the last war. And even those little \'pleasantries\' managed to stop despite the fact that since becoming part of the Ministry, she saw him often. She was in the Department of Mysteries, he was further up in the building with the movers, shakers and policy makers. Whenever they somehow bumped into each other in the hallway, he said an absent \"excuse me\" and went on by as if she were invisible. Tore her heart in two every time, that did.

She\'d heard tell that the old boy had gotten rather anxious about trying to settle down and find a wife. But as he\'d managed to work his way through nearly the entire population of witches and found them all lacking in some way or another; his prospects were rather dim. He could always try to mend fences and pair up with Virginia, but it seemed that the wind was blowing in Seamus\' direction where that was concerned.

Alicia and Pansy were out of the question as each seemed to find more in common with the other than with any of the males in their acquaintance. They made the gossip section of the Prophet quite often. One by one all the eligble females in his immediate sphere fell off with reason or another - which was what led the vision of loveliness to her door.

\"Oi, Granger.\" Hermione started in a bit of fright. She\'d been in the Time room, keeping track of all the Turners and making sure no one mucked up things along the continuum.

When she turned around and saw him, her hackles raised. \"Malfoy. What on earth could you possibly want?\"

\"Look. There\'s some big to-do tonight and I haven\'t a date.\"

\"So you thought you\'d ask me at the last minute,\" she sneered. \"Well, I\'ve already got a date.\" Which wasn\'t altogether true, but she was sure that she could rope Neville into going if she promised him a nice \'61 Bollinger in the bargain.

He scoffed, an elegant platinum brow raising. \"Whoever it is, you can blow him off.\"

Even though in her heart of hearts, Hermione was secretly overjoyed, the logical part of her was incensed that after all this time, nearly years of not speaking unless in a business situation, he wanted a date - and even that was business. Thus, Hermione was annoyed and snarky.

\"Oh, you just think I\'m at your beck and call? Why don\'t you go get one of your regulars to make an appearance. I\'m sure *they\'ve* got nothing better to do than hang on your every word.\" With her silver framed glasses perched on her nose, severe blue robes and hair pulled back into a chignon on the nape of her neck, Hermione cut an imposing figure surrounded by the elements of time.

\"Come on Granger, do me this favour and I\'ll never bother you again, deal?\" He smiled charmingly and Hermione knew she was lost.

\"Fine. Pick me up at my house, seven o\'clock and don\'t be late.\" She turned her back on him, a pointed reminder that he was invading *her* space.

\"Will do.\" She heard his footsteps retreating and the door closing.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned against the cabinets and rubbed her forehead. What had she just gotten herself into? It wasn\'t as if Malfoy was lacking for dates. And good lord, what was she going to wear? She hadn\'t intended on going to the museum\'s shindig, even though she was on the guest list, as were all of those who managed to move in those rarefied circles. And with Malfoy of all people...it was a recipe for disaster. It wasn\'t as if she loved him. Far from it, she didn\'t know him well enough to love him. The feelings were more akin to celebrity worship than anything else. The schoolgirl within wanted to squee in joy at going out with Draco. The outer scientist and near-schoolmarm sighed in disgust at her acquiescence.

For years she\'d pined from afar - very afar. Now was the time to put up or shut. He needed to see that she was the one who had everything he needed. Hermione had known from the time she was seventeen and he still sixteen that Draco wouldn\'t be satisfied by all those vapid beauties paraded before him. Not to say that Virginia or Alicia were necessarily empty-headed but their priorities were in different places. And Pansy was most definitely vapid. Thicker than a woolen coat was Pansy. It was a wonder she managed to graduate from Hogwarts at all.

But how? That was the question. For ten years she was nothing more than the bookworm. The best friend of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Caught between the Gilded Hero and the Benevolent Pureblood, only extraordinary scholarship made the Muggleborn witch stand out. Aside from that and one shining moment facilitated by copious amounts of Sleakeazy\'s and another famous male, there was nothing of note about her. It was not to be borne.

The plain brown hair was as wild as ever; the brown eyes...utilitarian. And in the full robes and spectacles, Hermione knew that she was ever closer to resembling her childhood hero, Professor McGonagall than ever. Even as she admired that good lady, Hermione had no wish to end up as Minerva had - husbandless, childless and teaching smarmy little ingrates who took the gifts they were born with for granted.

The twenty-seven year old witch continued to fret for the next four hours until it was time to depart to her flat. She took off the official robes to reveal a pair of long legs in dark denim and a black v-necked sweater. The black pointed toe Victorian boots stayed because they were so fashionable. A quick shrinking charm to the robes and they were safely tucked away in her bag. Up the lift to just below ground level, a cheery wave to Arthur and Percy Weasley as they departed, a quick scrawl of her name on the sign out parchment and she was off.

She came up through the red booth and exited, her mind on what could possibly be in her closet that could be transfigured to something suitable. Unfortunately, the pale blue robes from when she was fourteen couldn\'t be lengthened any longer, the fabric had reached its stretching point. Big Ben ticked on, the gold limning its face gleaming in the early evening sun.

Hermione went down the stairs, put in her card and the little gates opened. Once down the swift moving escalator, she stepped onto the platform and waited for the train to come rumbling past. The silver signed Jubilee came through the tunnel and along with the suited commuters, Hermione got on. Riding to Waterloo, she got off and transferred to the Black line, exiting at Camden Town. The slightly dodgy element of the market crowd was something she was used to, so she moved with ease to the Aldo to pick out shoes.

There was a fabulous pair of black patent stilettoes on sale for twenty pounds. Hermione snapped them up. She went into the market and poked around the various stalls and found a man selling silk cheongsams for cheap. There was one that was black with red dragons and phoenixes woven in. Hermione was enchanted. Then, too, it was sexy because it was fitted but modest because the only things showing were a leg and her arms from the bicep down. Also, because of its red dragons and phoenixes she believed that it might send a subtle challenge to Draco. If her memory served (and it always did), the man couldn\'t resist a challenge.

Paying the man for the garment, she left the labyrinth of stalls and walked down the high street to her flat. The neighborhood was gray and it was really off and a bit dodgy, but it was home. She buzzed herself in using the mobile and collected the mail from the row of steel boxes lining the left side of the wall. There was a walk-up of five flights, which made the grocery shopping a bit daunting, but the flat was cheap, it was clean and it was all hers.

Crookshanks came winding about her ankles the second she came through the door. It was obvious someone missed her - even if it was the cat. Hermione shut the door and dropped her purchases on the couch. She crossed to the kitchen. The boots came off and so did the sweater. She rummaged around in the fridge and came up with a bottle of Beck\'s. Popping the cap, she took a long swig and contemplated the evening ahead. She snapped on the wireless to hear the presenters talking about the continued debacle in Iraq. She had never hated American policy more than when her own country sent over a boy she\'d known for years, Paul Milford. Paul was a little younger than her and had come back in box. No twenty-three year old man should have to go off to war and come home dead.

She switched the station to something more fun and wound up on a station that played club music. There was quite a bit of Culture Club being played (all a part of that 80\'s revival nonsense) and so Hermione left it there. Still hanging about in front of the fridge, she pulled out turkey lunchmeat, bread and a small jar of mayo. The Becks and the sandwich made a perfectly acceptable late tea.

After finishing, Hermione cleared away the evidence, plopped a can of food into Richard III\'s dish and collected her things from the couch. A flick of her wand lit scented candles in her bedroom and turned the light on. She laid out her dress, thinking how it was very unlike her. It was much more a Ginny dress than a Hermione dress, especially with the shiny heels.

Stripping down completely, she tossed her glasses onto the bed and went into the en-suite to run a bath. Another flick of the wand and sultry-fruity bath gel dripped into the water, creating a great mass of bubbles. She examined her face in the quickly steaming glass. Fortunately, this wasn\'t a magical mirror, but an ordinary non-talking Muggle one.

Hermione wasn\'t dissatisfied with her appearance, but neither was she truly pleased by what she saw. Instead of resembling some flamboyant bird of paradise, or even a garden variety redbird, she reminded herself of a little winter wren. Despite the fact that she was now over 5\'10\" and the hair was not really bushy anymore, Hermione felt that she\'d never really blossomed like her schoolmates. Giving her reflection a shrug, she stepped into the bath and turned the taps off with her toes.

Crookshanks wandered into the bathroom meowing and letting his tuna-tinted kitty breath float around the small white-tiled chamber. He sat right in front her and began licking his paw, moving it along his orange furred head. Hermione smiled at that.

\"Having a bath as well? You\'ve become quite like your mistress these days, eh Crook?\" She took a swig from the bottle which sat at tubside.

Crookshanks gave her a look which plainly stated that he thought that *she* was becoming more like him than the other way \'round. He meowed disdainfully and padded out of the room. Hermione stuck her tongue out at her feline and put down the beer. She took up a loofah and scented soap and began scrubbing down.

When she was sufficiently clean and subsequently strawberry scented, Hermione got up, rinsed off and drained the tub. A pop of the wand against the porcelain restored it to shiny whiteness once more. She toweled off and applied lotion to her skin, reinforcing the fruity smell. Tucking the towel around her, she padded into the bedroom and pulled out undergarments from the dresser drawers.

Hermione dropped the towel onto an unsuspecting Crookshanks and laughed when he went berserk. Kitty humour is always good humour in her book. She slipped into pants, bra and sheer tights. Stockings would have been better but the suspenders would\'ve shown under the tight fitting dress.

She pulled her hair loose from the knot. The steam from the bath penetrated the soft roll and as a result, springy curls exploded around her head. Not necessarily something resembling a hedgerow but more or less irrepressible ringlets. Instead of fighting the stubborn nature of the hair, Hermione worked a tuppence sized pool of anti-frizz serum into her hair and gave her scalp a tap of the wand. Her hair formed soft corkscrew sable locks with fine russet streaks running through. Pushing a thin golden head band through the mane to hold the hair off of her face, she set about maquillaging her skin.

A bit of camoflage to a spot on the chin, a swipe of shadow and mascara and a wisp of cherry tinted gloss and Hermione deemed herself done. Never one to make a fuss over her appearance, the whole ritual took less than 20 minutes.

It was now a quarter to seven. Hermione snapped on a garter and slipped her wand in between the band and her thigh. She scrounged around in her closet and came up with a small black satin bag. She tossed in both Muggle and wizarding money, the tube of lip stuff, identifcation and her specs. Who knew if she\'d end up having to take a cab home? It was always best to be prepared.

Five minutes to seven and the doorbell rang. Hermione jumped. She buzzed the intercom, asking who it was.

\"It\'s me, Granger. Look, as \'charming\' as your little neighbourhood is, I\'d rather not be caught out here after dark, so if you wouldn\'t mind?\" The snobbery came through in Malfoy\'s tone. Hermione only clicked her tongue and shook her head and buzzed him in.

Knowing that it would take him a while to get up the stairs, Hermione pulled on the dress. The zipper set in the seam was rather difficult to pull up. She was in the midst of manoeuvering the tiny pull up the coils when the knock sounded at the door. Making a disgusted noise, she opened the door to reveal Malfoy in black dress robes with a grey collar and cuffs. The austere look suited him very well - even if he was a bit fuzzy about the edges.

\"Tangled up in your clothes, Granger?\" He sneered. \"I thought your mummy would\'ve taught you how to dress by now.\" Malfoy sat on the couch, lounging there in complete aristocratic indifference.

\"Stuff it, Malfoy.\" She managed to get the zipper up, closing the gap which revealed creamy unblemished skin and a black bra. Hermione turned and went back into the bedroom to put her shoes on and collect her things.

Malfoy admired the line of her back and the curve of her bum as she sashayed down the short hallway. When Hermione came stalking back down the corridor and into the living room, Draco was shocked by how much a pair of shiny black heels and a tight dress did for a girl. Hermione, with her mane of hair and exotic clothing, looked sleek and faintly dangerous. Draco thought that the odd observation even odder due to the fact that normally she looked like the most English of Englishwomen. There was nothing distinctive about her at all. But tonight...tonight was very different.

Usually he managed to dismiss her, even if it was hard to escape her legend as \"the smartest witch to come out of Hogwarts in an age.\" There was nothing easily dismissed about her either in dress or demeanor. How odd. A scowl crossed Malfoy\'s face.

\"Did you put a spell on me?\" He enquired with a surly note in his voice.

\"Have you gone daft? You\'ve not seen me with wand in hand since you walked in the door.\" For proof she stuck out her slightly shimmery leg and showed him the wand tucked into the garter.

Draco was suddenly thinking about wands he wished her to take in hand. (Oh, stop. You\'re not a seventeen year old boy, you\'re a 27 year old man and she\'s just *Granger* for Merlin\'s sake.)

But the decidedly naughty thoughts running through his head made him turn gruff. \"Ready?\"

\"Sure. Be good for Mommy, Crooks.\" Hermione waved to the nectarine ball of fluff currently growling at Malfoy whilst he tried his best hold back gagging noises at her affection for the mean-eyed beast.

Hermione caught Draco making faces behind her back and thumped him one on the arm. \"Disagreeable little snot. Seems like you\'ll never change.\"

\"And underneath the fine feathers lies a pathetic little bookworm, ready to dash off insufferable facts and figures in an attempt to boss everyone about.\"

Hermione only raised an eyebrow, determined not to let it show that he had pricked her sorely. Her bluestocking veneer was the one thing she had no success in shedding and as it was the one thing she was known for... Disgusted, she pivoted on her heel, closed the door, applied a locking charm and led Draco down the street to the Apparition point.

Inside a dusty little coffee shop populated with punks, goths and other nocturnal creatures, a wizened old wizard bobbed his cropped head at them. Hermione skirted the the mouldy looking patrons and led Draco to the back room. Once inside there was near total darkness, the only light coming from a few candelabras around the room.

From the deepest shadows of the corners, gleaming eyes cut through the murk. Draco lingered a bit too long and made eye contact with the creatures. One stuck its face out of the corner and into the half-light. The silvery pale skin and supernaturally glowing eyes pierced Draco and he became rooted to the spot. The creature got up and faster than a blink it stood over Malfoy, licking its lips, showing its pointed incisors.

Hermione, not hearing Draco\'s footsteps behind her, turned back to see him mesmerized by the long-haired, crimson-lipped thing. She quickly cast a glamour and strode to Draco\'s side. Hermione grabbed Draco possessively around the arm. The creature fixed its venomous gaze on Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth, showing her magically enhanced teeth, hissing slightly. The beast took in Hermione\'s slick look, wild eyes and hair and decided that discretion was the better part of valour. It backed off, slinking back into its corner. Hermione pulled Draco on through the bar and into a deserted room.

Malfoy snapped out of his trance, shaking his head as if to clear it. \"Was that what I thought it was?\"

Hermione ended the charm and grinned. \"A vampire? Oh yes, they tend to hang out in this bar quite a lot. Come on, we\'re already fashionably late.\"

With a quick touch of her wand to the crown of her head, Hermione Apparated to the steps of the museum. Draco appeared beside her a moment later. Torches surrounded the grey marble building with its domed roof. There were witches and wizards milling about the grounds, some smoking or talking. More than a few interested wizards gave Hermione speculative looks. The witches were trying to figure out who Draco\'s latest toy was. Hermione was vaguely amused by it all.

They climbed the stairs to the entrance, hearing the chatter and the music inside. Hermione noted Draco\'s easy grace, the faint smiles he afforded the witches who called to him. She spared him a little mocking smile. When they reached the open doors to the main gallery, each handed over a wand to the matched blond men who stood sentinel, checking to see that no one was there who shouldn\'t be.

They passed the test and entered the gala. Hermione took note of the elegant witches and wizards who populated the affair. She thought, somewhat perversely, that they rivaled the ton in their heyday. The swish of expensive fabrics tickled Hermione\'s ears anytime someone close to her moved. It made her think of her own fifty quid dress and how most of the witches there wouldn\'t be caught dead in a get-up like that. Still, the other women there were casting her envious looks. Hermione gave one particularly pea-green woman a cheery smile and took a glass of champers from a passing waiter.

Draco eyed her with a bit of amusement. \"Dipping into the liquor a bit early, are we?\"

\"It\'s one glass. Merely to be sociable.\" She sipped at the golden liquid. Draco grew even fuzzier about the edges as the beer she\'d consumed earlier kicked in.

\"Hmm.\" Draco said nothing more and took a glass of bubbly as well. \"Same old crows here tonight. They never invite anyone interesting to these things.\" Hermione raised an eyebrow. \"Except you, of course, Granger.\" Malfoy amended mockingly.

The sarcasm didn\'t go unnoticed, but Hermione was in a relatively good mood, so she responded with a cheery \"Thank you.\"

A unapologetically red head emerged from the throng to appear at their side.

\"Hello, you two. Just getting here?\" Ginny was resplendent in sunshine yellow silk robes.

Hermione made a mental face of disgust. How is it that yellow looked wonderful on the carrot topped miss in front of her when all the colour ever did for Hermione was make her look sallow? It was not to be borne.

\"Yes, Virginia, we are.\" Malfoy answered for the both of them.

Ginny quickly masked her look of astonishment. \"So, the two of you came together?\" She enquired smoothly.

Hermione had to hand it to her friend. Ginny was a cool customer. \"Yes, we did.\"

\"Well.\" And her Virginia smiled. \"C\'est merveilleux.\"

\"Mais oui, ma chere.\" Hermione answered drily.

\"Oh stop it. You know I was never any good at Translation Charms,\" Draco groused.

\"Didn\'t your parents threaten to send you to Durmstrang, Draco?\" Ginny asked. \"I thought you needed to know a different language.\"

\"Romanian, yes. French, no.\"

\"But with your surname, I surely thought-\"

\"Merely a Norman hanger-on. We did attempt to Anglicize it.\" Draco gave up his now empty flute to a passing waiter. \"If you ladies will excuse me.\" He left them and moved off towards the bar.

\"Hermione!\" Ginny rounded on her friend as soon as Draco was out of earshot. \"Why didn\'t you tell me that you and Draco are going out?\"

Hermione smirked. \"We are not \"going out.\" We are merely each other\'s arm candy for the evening.\"

\" \'Candy\' is right. He looks too scrumptious in those robes. Oh, if only I weren\'t so devoted to my dearest Seamus,\" Ginny cracked sarcastically. \"But I must say, you\'re looking rather delicious yourself tonight. Wherever did you get that dress?\"

\"Oh, I picked it up for fifty quid over in Camden Market.\" Hermione did a small twirl to show off her find.

\"Well, it\'s simply gorgeous. And I love what you\'ve done with your hair. I\'ve never seen you with your natural curls before.\" Ginny looked a bit jealous at Hermione\'s hair.

\"I hadn\'t the time to go raking a thousand bottles of Sleakeazy\'s through it. And besides, I think I\'m over that phase. This is the hair I was born with so I might as well deal with it.\" Hermione drained her glass and exchanged it for another.

\"So how did you and Draco hook up for tonight?\"

Hermione rolled her eyes. \"He decided to pop down to my office and brazenly ask me out, as if I hadn\'t any other plans. He\'s so rude and so damned cheeky I wanted to punch him right there on the spot.\"

\"But you still agreed to go.\" Ginny stated with a satisfied smirk.

\"He wasn\'t going to leave me alone until I had, Virginia.\"

\"Yes, I do remember him as being very persistent.\"

\"Fucking sneaky is what he is. Planned a surprise attack on me and I, fool that I am, ran up the white flag without very much of a fight.\" Hermione drank down the wine with frightening speed.

\"You know...you didn\'t have to go if you didn\'t really want to, Hermione.\"

\"I know. So I suppose that I *did* want to go with him. But he\'s so-so superior in an inferior way. I can\'t stand him.\" However, there wasn\'t much heat in Hermione\'s argument. Even then, she scanned the crowd looking for Draco.

Ginny, seeing her friend looking over her head, merely grinned and took herself off to continue mingling through the crowd before the auction started. Hermione spotted Draco in the clutches of an avaricious blonde and nearly laughed out loud. For the first time, Malfoy looked less than smooth and in need of dire rescue. She decided to let him stew for a bit as right on cue some attractive brunet wizard came to ask her to dance. She accepted and went whirling past the wallflowers as he swung her into the figure of an old-fashioned waltz.

The blonde had finagled Malfoy into the dance as well. He handled the woman as if she were a striking snake. The blonde kept trying to move closer into the pose and Draco kept holding her off. Hermione saw them and tried to hide a smile as she waltzed with her partner. Draco gave her a mean face and turned up his nose. Which made Hermione turn up her nose and wonder when this interminable evening would be over.

Her partner released her and gave her a small bow along with a cream vellum business card. Hermione accepted it with a smile and the minute he turned his back pulled out her wand and gave it a swift *Incendio*. \"Nasty little bugger.\"

A tap of a finger against her shoulder made her face the amused countenance of Harry. Hermione squealed and flung her arms around him.

\"Harry! How\'ve you been? It\'s been so long.\" Hermione stepped back and eyed her friend, who, since his travels of the past ten years, had actually become a rakishly good looking devil. Still mop-topped but it only enhanced that air of charmingly self-conscious insouciance.

He raked his hand through his hair and gave Hermione the best \'stiff-upper-lip\' smile he could manage. \"I\'m doing ok, Hermione. Just really done with the whole thing, you know?\"

Hermione laughed derisively. \"Oh, I\'m so sure that being a world famous wizard is a terrible hardship.\"

Harry could only laugh at her observation. \"As always, you have a wonderful way of cutting through all the crap.\"

\"One of my many talents.\" Hermione smiled self-deprecatingly.

\"So,\" Harry began, deftly changing the subject. \"I saw you come in with Malfoy.\"

\"That\'s right. We\'re here together.\" Hermione stopped. \"Well. Not officially. More or less because neither of us had dates.\"

\"Ah. I knew there had to be a reason. You\'d never subject yourself to Malfoy\'s insufferable presence willingly.\"

\"Of course,\" Hermione murmured half-heartedly around a mouthful of caviar snagged from a gleaming glass tray.

\"Hm...\" Harry eyed Alicia speculatively. \"I wonder if she and Pansy have as much fun in bed as the gossips say they do.\"

\"Harry James! What a thing to say!\"

Harry laughed. \"Oh come on, Herm. Don\'t tell me you\'ve never wondered.\"

\"I most certainly have not.\" Hermione\'s prudish expression was in direct contrast to her provocative appearance.

\"Then I do believe you need to loosen up.\" Harry led Hermione over to the bar. \"Give me a Blow Job please.\"

Hermione\'s cheeks went rather rosy. The bartender sat a creamy beige-brown shot of liquor topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream in front of Harry. Harry slid it over to Hermione with a wicked grin.

\"Bottoms up.\"

\"I\'ve never had one of those before. Is it very good?\"

\"It is rather good. But the trick is to drink it using no hands.\" Harry wagged his eyebrows at Hermione suggestively.

\"Pardon?\" Hermione looked disbelieving.

\"You heard me. Now quit stalling and drink.\"

\"I can\'t even believe you had the gall to order this at a charity benefit,\" she groused. Nonetheless, Hermione pulled back her hair, stuck her mouth around the glass and tossed back the entire shot - swallowing it rather smoothly.

Harry applauded enthusiastically. \"Good show, Hermione. Now, let\'s take a twirl.\" He stuck out his arm to Hermione, who grasped it rather heartily.

Draco, who\'d been trying to extricate himself from the blonde (whose name he discovered was Molleigh), saw Hermione down that drink. He was impressed with her despite himself. But felt unaccountably piqued when he saw Potter lead her off to the dance floor. She was *his* date, damnit. What the hell was she doing going off with the little Potty-boy?

(Forget it,) he thought nastily. (Not worth the time or effort.) And with that he oiled his way over to Lavender who was near to swooning at his angelic good looks.

\"Hello, Lavender,\" Draco grinned at her smoothly.

\"Hello, Draco.\" Lavender was a bit giggly at having the wizarding world\'s most eligible bachelor showing a bit of interest.

\"Care to take the floor?\" He cocked a thumb out at the couples currently doing their best to keep up with the slower pace of the music.

\"Ooh. Of course.\" Lavender nearly squealed in her eagerness.

Draco offered her his arm and suppressed a self-satisfied smirk. This was more like it. A pretty, adoring woman falling at his feet. It was what he deserved. Not some steely-eyed, bluestockinged hellcat Gryffindor who constantly pricked at him everytime he saw her.

The rustle of Lavender\'s blue-grey gown served as a reminder that he couldn\'t get close to her because of the width of her full skirt. It was annoying. Draco tried to pull the petite blonde girl closer to no avail. It was a startling contrast to Potter and Granger, who were as close they could be without being obscene. It was that damned dress. That fucking black silk dress that looked slicker than wet diamonds.

Thankfully the music ended, enabling Draco to deposit the near-to-swooning Lavender back at the buffet table. He swept back to the bar to see Granger there surveying the room. She coloured a bit at his approach. Draco smirked. He knew full well how good he looked, striding across the ballroom floor. He doubted Granger knew how good *she* looked. She was the standout of this staid, boring crowd. Her unconventional dress and tall, lithe figure set her apart from every other woman in the room.

She\'d come in with plenty of confidence but somewhere along the line, it had wilted a bit. Perhaps it was the alcohol. In that case....

He plucked the drink from her hand and set it on the bar, out of her reach.

\"Hey!\" She looked adorable in her pique.

\"I\'d thought you had quite enough.\" He replaced the martini with water. \"Drink that. You\'ll feel better in the morning.\"

\"I think hangover cure would suffice nicely,\" Hermione responded tartly. Nevertheless, she downed the agua. And then ordered another martini. Draco only shook his head at her.

\"Those things are very bad for little girls like yourself, Granger.\"

\"Little girl? We\'re the same age, Malfoy, if you\'ve forgotten.\"

\"I haven\'t forgotten anything.\" He raked his eyes over her form. The gesture was meant to be insulting. Judging by the interested look in her eyes as she looked at him over the rim of her glass, she wasn\'t insulted the least little bit.

\"That\'s very good, Malfoy. Very, very good.\" Hermione took the olive from the glass and chewed it thoughtfully. \"It occurs to me that we came here together and we haven\'t danced a single dance. Shall we give all the gossips something talk about?\"

The deliciously naughty smirk she flashed him did him in. \"I thought you\'d never ask.\"

They took to the floor amid barely contained whispers. The pair moved together with ease. Even though Hermione was known in their circle to have a somewhat pedantic dance style, it seemed as though the tanker full of alcohol she\'d imbibed loosed not only her tongue but her inhibitions as well. The prescribed dancing space disappeared by the third turn on their tango. Now they were melded to one another and they were thoroughly enjoying it.

The other dancers eventually widened the space around them until Draco and Hermione were in the very center of the floor. And soon they were the only ones on the floor. When the saucy Spanish harmony ended, it was to polite applause. They were pleasantly surprised and not a little embarrassed to find themselves the center of attention. Fortunately, at that moment, the mingling portion of the evening was over and the charity auction was to begin.

\"I had no idea that you were such a good dancer, Granger.\" Draco grabbed a stem of punch and passed it to Hermione.

\"Same here, Malfoy.\"

\"Did you take -\" they both began, only to end in chuckles at their parallel trains of thought.

\"Five years of ballroom and tap,\" replied Hermione. \"What about you?\"

\"The same, except without the torture of tap. I never thought that it would come in handy, but as it turns out, a man who can dance is a chick magnet.\" Draco raised his eyebrow in mock villain style.

Hermione rolled her eyes. \"Leave it to you to put it like that.\"

They began walking from the ballroom to a smaller gallery of the museum, admiring the various statues and magical artifacts scattered about the rooms. A prehistoric pixie was plastered against a pane of glass, trying to figure out what the clear substance was that it couldn\'t fly through. Hermione shook her head and conjured up a tiny volume for the creature to read. It contained all of her knowledge of the world to date, which as we all know, is very extensive. It was one of the reasons she was a time keeper.

When they reached the gallery, they discovered that the museum\'s extensive Impressionist works had been removed. The walls were bare, covered only in creme coloured watered silk. There was a dais and a podium set at one end of the space. Curtains were drawn closed behind it.

The mistress of ceremonies, Susan Bones, stepped forward from the crowd and upto the podium. With a softly muttered *Sonorus*, she began.

\"Attention, ladies and gentlemen. I welcome you to the 500th Annual Conjurer\'s Ball and Auction.\" There was light applause. \"As most of you know, this auction goes to support the museum, which is a research as well as an exhibition facility. A portion of the proceeds will also be donated to St. Mungo\'s Hospital.\" Susan smiled. \"Now, I suppose all of you gentlemen ought to get your wands out as these lovely ladies will be fetching many a galleon tonight.\"

Susan flipped the cards in her hand, showing off the large diamond that sparkled on her hand. \"And, Dean, if you dare to purchase one of these ladies, you\'ll have *me* to reckon with!\" She pronounced. There was good-natured laughter all around. Dean pulled a face at his fond spouse.

\"For our first lady, we all know her. She has a lot of admirers and so I think that you gentlemen will have to step it up a notch. Possessing lovely red hair, this lady is also a Potions Mistress. May I present to you, Virginia Weasley.\"

Ginny came out, resplendent in her soft yellow robes, smiling sardonically at the congregation. She did a slow twirl, playing her role to the hilt.

\"Now, let\'s start the bidding at 30 galleons. Do I hear 30 galleons?\"

Seamus called out, \"30!\"

\"Very good.\" Susan beamed. \"Do I hear 35?\"

\"35!\" An unknown male in the back shouted.

\"Alright, do I hear 40?\"

\"40!\" Replied Seamus.

\"And there\'s forty galleons from Mr. Seamus Finnegan, who I must say is looking rather dashing tonight. Do I hear 45? Anyone, 45? Going once, going twice?\"

Just as Susan was about to bang her gavel down, a well-known voice rang out, \"One hundred galleons!\"

\"Sir!\" Susan and Ginny looked at each other, perplexed that there would be an offer that high.

\"Do I hear one hundred twenty-five? 125? No? Going once, going twice...SOLD!\" Susan knocked her gavel down onto the podium.

Harry muscled his way through the crowd, a glass of Glenlivet in his hand and unholy glee in his eyes. \"Hullo, Gin.\" He reached out a hand to the youngest Weasley.

Ginny merely shook her head and gave Harry an amused, yet rueful smile. She took his hand and descended the podium with Harry. Seamus was fuming as the pair passed him. It took three hastily glasses of bubbly to get him to calm down.

\"Wasn\'t that exciting? Our next lovely lady comes from Lancashire and enjoys a good game of Quidditch, cooking a hot bowl of stew and downing a good stout during both. Please, put your hands together for Millicent Bulstrode.\"

Millicent came out. The years had been overly kind to the once-homely girl. There was a gleam in her dark olive green eyes. Her long, curly black hair was swept back to reveal her high cheekbones and firm jaw. The mannish figure had given way, at almost thrity, to soft feminine curves and a statuesque form. The dark blue robes she wore were cut to perfection and showed off her body wonderfully. A low whistle of appreciation and astonishment cut through the crowd.

\"Well, gentlemen, I will start the bidding at 35 galleons. Do I hear 35 galleons?\"

Ron led off the bidding, shocking everyone in the process. After that, the bids came fast and furiously. But Ron managed to outbid his brother Fred, who\'d taken a shine to Millicent. And the lady was led away by Ron, all smiles.

The auction was fully underway. The girls were picked off right and left. No one was turned away. Alicia Spinnet was picked up by Pansy. The Patil twins were picked up by Fred and George. Angelina Johnson was, surprises of all surprises, sold off to Bill Weasley. Charlie made off with a smiling Fleur Delacour. Percy got Penelope; no one was willing to counter offer on the man\'s fiancee.

\"And now for our final lady of the evening.\" There were scattered chuckles at Susan\'s unintentional pun. \"She was a last minute entry but I\'m sure that with the way she looks tonight, there\'s no one in here that would miss out on an opportunity like this. She was Head Girl of Hogwarts. No easy feat that. Works at the Ministry at the Department of Mysteries. \"

Hermione turned to Draco. \"Hm. I don\'t know who that could be. Then again, we don\'t exactly mix and mingle down there in the basement.\"

Draco did nothing but nod and give her a mysterious smile. Hermione was instantly leery.

\"You know something.\" The statement was heavily laced with suspicion.

\"Of course I bloody know something, Granger. Quite a lot of something, actually.\"

Up at the podium, Susan kept going on about the final girl. \"- and I\'m sure this will be a complete surprise to her. Please welcome Hermione Granger!\"

There were a few gasps and definitely more than a little twittering when Hermione\'s name was called. She rounded on her erstwhile companion, weaving a little in her tipsy state.

\"You did this to me!\"

\"Of course I bloody well did, Granger. You may thank me later,\" replied Draco with the smugness born of a thousand generations of wealth and privilege.

\"I\'ll fucking smack you later is what I\'ll do,\" Hermione hissed.

\"But your adoring audience is waiting.\" Draco spun her around and gave her a push towards the dais.

Hermione climbed the short steps and turned around to face the upturned faces of her peers. As those who hadn\'t realized that the spectacular looking creature in the skinny black dress was her, there was a collective light of interest on their faces. Hermione thought the whole thing was rather dodgy, not to mention humiliating. But she squared her shoulders and waited for the inevitable.

Susan opened the bidding at her usual of thirty-five galleons. Draco\'s hand went up discreetly. When Susan called for forty, much to everyone\'s surprise, Snape made the counterbid. Draco eyed his former professor speculatively and called out \"Two hundred galleons!\"

When the audience fell silent, Hermione stared at Draco. He did nothing but give her a small grin in return. But then Snape countered with \"Four hundred galleons!\"

Although Draco\'s face was outwardly calm, Hermione could see the wild spark of anger at the older man in the younger\'s eyes. The audience\'s and Susan\'s expressions moved back to Draco who didn\'t turn a hair. As he locked eyes on Hermione, his voice was stone cold.

\"One million galleons.\" The blond took a sip of his champagne while Severus fumed, Hermione gawped and the rest of the who\'s who of the wizarding world looked on in shock and awe.

Susan stuttered a bit before regaining her voice. \"Do I hear a counterbid? No? Going once. Going twice. SOLD! To Mister Draco Malfoy.\"

Draco downed the rest of his wine in a smooth motion and went to collect Hermione from the platform. She laid her hand in his outstretched one while the band began another song. As he swept her into his arms to dance once more, her stalled brain begain idling again.

\"Malfoy. You just paid a million galleons for me. What in the hell made you do such a thing?\"

\"Because Snape\'s a dirty old man. And I didn\'t want to see you end up with the likes of *him*.\"

\"How do you know Severus is a dirty old man?\" Hermione asked him, irritated.

\"Because he\'s my godfather. And wait just a minute. \'Severus\'? When did we get on a first name basis with the Potions Bastard of Hogwarts?\"

\" \'We\' got on a first name basis with Severus a few years after I graduated from school. He\'s actually a lot of fun. Very witty and a wonderful dancer.\"

\"*My* godfather? We *are* talking about Severus Justinian Snape, are we not?\"

\"We are.\"

\"Tell me you did not date him.\"

\"I did. And I had a marvelous time.\"

\"Ugh. Do you want me to lose all those excellent canapes I ate at dinner?\" Draco had actually turned a bit green about the gills. Hermione chuckled.

\"No. I rather like my dress and my shoes. I\'ve no wish to see them ruined.\"

\"Ho ho ho, Granger,\" Draco replied sourly.

\"So. You dragged me out here because you *knew* that I was going to be up for auction.\"

\"Mais oui ma petite,\" he said with a rakish grin.

\"And I suppose you\'re the one who put my name in the pool.\"

\"How could you think otherwise?\"

\"You\'re a right bastard, you know that Malfoy?\"

Draco had the grace to at least look hurt. Even if it was only in jest. \"You wound me, Granger. You really do.\" He could see her beginning to work up a head of steam and snagged another glass of champagne from the waiter who was winding his way through the dance floor.

Draco pulled Hermione off of the floor and to the side. He was aware of all the eyes in the room following them. \"Here. Drink this and calm down. It\'s for a good cause, you know.\"

Hermione took a large swallow. \"And since when have you been concerned with good causes, Draco Malfoy?\"

\"You make me sound as if I were some sort of heartless beast.\" Draco really was hurt by that.

\"Aren\'t you?\" Hermione countered, finishing the liquid and reaching for another.

\"No, Granger, I\'m not.\" His quicksilver eyes darkened to the colour of time worn pewter in his seriousness. \"I\'ve never been quite as bad as you and that merry band of hellraisers you call friends think I am.\"

\"Oh, really?\" She downed the glass, now weaving a bit where she stood. \"I\'ve always known that you were just a little poufter deep down inside that wormy little soul of yours.\"

\"Be careful, Granger. I might just let Severus have you after all.\"

\"I\'m not your toy, Malfoy. You can\'t just lend me out.\"

\"Oh yes you are. You\'re mine to do whatever I please with for the next thirty-six hours. Accustom yourself to the idea.\" Draco grinned evilly at the thought.

\"My God. I don\'t think I\'ve hated you more in the past seventeen years as much as I hate you now.\" If looks could have killed, Draco would be a shrivelled up corpse by now.

\"You don\'t hate me. And besides, if I take you back, the museum and the hospital won\'t get all those lovely galleons.\"

Hermione was trapped by that bit of logic. Feeling slightly wrong at denying two worthy causes a fat load of money, she resigned herself to being Draco\'s toy for the next thirty-six hours. He knew the minute she\'d reached her decision by the squaring of her shoulders and the marshal look in her eyes.

\"Fine. But this enterprise is going to require lot of alcohol subsidizing it.\" And with that she sauntered off to the bar to get another drink.