Author's Note: A birthday gift to the fabulous LadyKenz347. You make me laugh, and cry, and laugh until I cry. You've gone from one of my best fandom friends to one of my best friends, period, and I can't believe it was only a year ago we first met through a random request for betaing. You've picked me up out of the dirt more times than I can count, and thanks for always loving on my hot, unedited garbage. Love you T.

Alpha credits to Kyonomiko; this piece is unbeta'd and errors are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, and no copyright infringement is intended.

There was something about the seamless navigation of a crowd – without any undesired contact – that tugged at Hermione's sense of pride.

And it was certainly the case, in the Ministry of Magic's overstuffed social hall, for the first annual Spring Gala.

Not one for elaborate parties at the best of times, Hermione was prone to feeling a tingle cross her skin every time she found herself shouldered abruptly to the side as someone brushed past her.

Give her a book any day of the week.

She might have even talked her way out of it – honestly, there was little sense to throwing a Spring Gala, aside from the fact that she had overheard some of the ladies on the committee talking about how the Ministry was in need of the funds. But Harry had widened those emerald greens and released the full storm of his persuasion upon her. If he had to go, he'd claimed, she needed to be there too.

And Hermione had folded. Not even slightly, but full out. And so she found herself dressed to the nines in heels that would never be considered even remotely sensible, and her hair piled atop her head in a mass of potions and magic.

She had to admit, the look achieved a certain something – but the time involved had been far longer than she cared to maintain on a regular basis.

Besides that, the corset of the gown made things challenging in other ways. She hadn't dared eat her entire plate of dinner – despite the exorbitant cost – because the dress was already restricting her breathing.

It was bloody archaic, when she thought about it, but the publicity stylist had insisted upon it.

Four years had passed since the war ended, and Hermione was well and truly over the opinions of others who believed she needed to be an icon at every function. She had tried to argue that no one was there to see her, anyways, and –

"Hello, Hermione!"

Blinking in surprise, Hermione's gaze landed on the chipper blonde before her, and she pressed her lips into a banal effort at a smile. "Astoria. Hello. You're looking lovely this evening."

"And you!" Astoria exclaimed, her tone saccharine and sunshine. "That dress is fantastic on you! I was just telling Draco, I always like to keep an eye out for you at these functions because your style is so wonderful."

"Ah." Expression faltering, Hermione managed a nod. "I appreciate that. And how is Malfoy doing?"

With a titter, Astoria shook her head, eyelids pressed shut. "He's excellent, of course. We're just so busy, what with the wedding and everything."

"Of course." The corset wasn't the only thing inhibiting her breathing, and Hermione itched to escape the inane conversation. Astoria was a lovely girl, and they had developed a certain level of rapport over the years the pair of them had both been working in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures.

But hearing the other girl discuss her impending nuptials to one Draco Malfoy tugged at the edges of her patience.

Astoria carried on, and Hermione's focus drifted as her smile dropped off. "– Don't even get me started on the caterers of course, and Draco wants a small wedding, and he thinks five hundred is just too many –"

"Could you excuse me?" Hermione interrupted. "I've only just realized I have to…" Without finishing the sentence, she extracted herself from the conversation, pouring a long exhale from her lungs as she made her way across the hall as quickly as her red-bottoms could manage.

Tossing back the contents of her third martini, Hermione scowled across the hall, wondering at what point it was socially acceptable to duck out and go home early. Harry had been on the arm of Daphne Greengrass for the majority of the evening, and Hermione was tired of idle chatter with her Ministry co-workers.

She hadn't spotted that infuriating, pain-in-the-arse Auror, and she found herself wondering whether Astoria had even let him out of his cage in the Manor to indulge in the festivities.

Startled from her thoughts once more, Hermione stumbled a step backwards when a flash of platinum blond hair appeared in front of her, and narrowed grey eyes.

"Granger." The word was low and hissed. "I need your help. Now."

Releasing a huff of a sigh, even as her stomach leapt into her throat, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hello to you too, Malfoy."

His stare was wild as it darted around the hall. "I don't have much time."

Sucking on her teeth, Hermione observed him. His pale hair was disheveled, a flush colouring his cheeks, and his tie slightly askew. "You don't look very sharp," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Trust me," he grumbled, "I sure as hell don't feel very sharp either. Now come? Please?"

Amusement played about her expression as Malfoy stared around the hall with a furtive expression, before ducking from the hall into a store room, urging her through the door with a pleading stare.

Hermione folded her arms as she dropped a shoulder to the taupe wall once inside, her eyes fixed on him. "I don't know what you're playing at Malfoy, but your fiancee is going to murder me if she finds me here with you."

Malfoy pressed his lips into a tight line, his jaw clenched as he huffed a breath from his nose. "She isn't my fiancee. We broke up three months ago – and that was only because it took me that long to figure out a loophole in her father's contract. You'd cry if you knew how much I've spent on lawyers."

"What are you talking about?" Letting her hands drop, Hermione fought back an inelegant snort. "Astoria was literally just telling me about your floral arrangements an hour ago."

"Fuck," Malfoy exclaimed, dragging a hand down his face. "She's fucking insane, Granger. Like, certifiable."

Blinking in confusion, Hermione stared at him. "So you… aren't marrying Astoria anymore?"

"No." He frowned, his gaze meeting hers, his tight expression faltering. "I never wanted to, either. But the contract was set when she was born. I've been putting it off since the war, trying to find a way out of it."

Something niggled at the back of her mind, even as her heart jumped and escalated in her chest, adrenaline pouring through her veins. "How odd. I always thought Astoria seemed quite rational, if a little over-exuberant."

Malfoy's face darkened. "Plays it well, doesn't she? Sweet – until she isn't. And believe me, she fucking isn't."

Shaking her head, Hermione chewed on her tongue. "Anyways – what did you need my help with?"

There was a blatant shift in Malfoy's posture as the tightness in his shoulders dropped, and his face softened as he appraised her. "You look nice tonight, by the way."

A flush crept along her neck as she frowned. "Thanks." Waiting, she quirked a brow.

"Okay, look." He shifted on the spot, and Hermione realized he was uneasy. "I need a favour."

"Great," Hermione mumbled, even as a hint of a smile crossed her mouth. "Of course you do – what's the favour?"

Malfoy tugged at his tie. "I need you to pretend we're here together." As she gaped, wildly, lost for words, he went on. "Clearly, Astoria isn't getting the hint – including the most obvious, that I broke up with her – and I need to make the message that we aren't together a little more… concrete."

"Concrete," Hermione choked. "You mean, like the boots I'll be wearing when Astoria hears of this?"

Barking a laugh, he flashed her a grin. "Good one. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. Deal?"

"No deal." She fixed him with an exasperated stare. "There isn't even a deal on the table. You're only asking for a favour." A furrow lifted into his brow; his lips turned into a pout and his eyes grew large. Swatting him on the shoulder, Hermione scoffed. "Don't even try that look on me. Honestly, Malfoy, you know better."

Sighing, he leaned back against a store shelf. "You're right. You're becoming increasingly Slytherin over the years, did you know?"

Pressing her lips into a sarcastic smile, Hermione announced, "I'll take that as a compliment from you."

Adjusting his tie, he cracked a grin. "As you should." His nose wrinkled as he turned back to her. "You get good karma for helping out a friend."

"We aren't friends."

He'd made certain of that, back in their eighth year at Hogwarts.

His expression dropped as he took a step closer, as if reading her thoughts. "Look, Granger… I was a mess that year. I didn't know what to do about that bloody contract –"

"Don't," she hissed, eyes pressing shut.

Jaw clenched, he ground out, "It wasn't meant to be a one-off, okay?"

Her eyes snapped open to meet his in the darkness of the room, and she was thrown back to the beginnings of a remarkably similar situation behind a tapestry at Hogwarts – but that had led to a clashing of hands and mouths, and bare skin on hers. Blinking several times, Malfoy gazed at her, and she could have sworn his stare dropped to her mouth.

Releasing a tight breath, she managed, "But it was, regardless. And then you didn't even tell me about the contract for two months. Leaving me to believe it meant nothing."

Something flashed in his expression, and his lips curled downwards as he glanced away. His voice was so soft she struggled to hear as he said, "You can't possibly believe that night meant nothing."

Huffing a breath, and refusing to allow his words to get to her, she shouldered past him. "Find someone else to help with your nefarious scheme of the day. Astoria's my friend, and I'm not doing this."

"She isn't your friend," he mused as she reached for the door. "If you knew her like I do, Granger… Astoria doesn't have friends." Something lingered in his stare as she chanced a look back. "Please… I need to get her off my back. I need to start over."

A long pause hung between them. Sighing, Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "You'll owe me."

"Whatever you want."

The response was so quick she frowned, taken aback. But as she studied his guarded expression, the frown pulled into a smile and she breathed, "You're going to regret that."

"I have many regrets in life, Granger." Squaring his shoulders, he fixed her with a tight stare. "Many of them involving my time at Hogwarts. But something tells me this won't be one of them."

With a pang, she realized he was serious about getting free of Astoria's clutches, and despite everything, her heart still chased in his presence. Slipping her elbow through his, she sighed, with a resigned, "Lead the way."

Grey eyes slid lazily to find hers, and his lips pulled into a slow, crooked grin.

It was unfamiliar, but oddly comfortable to be sharing a drink with Malfoy. She'd spotted the wide green eyes of her best friend across the hall when they entered, but maybe Malfoy had sensed her reticence because he was quick to get them both drinks.

Or maybe he was just preparing himself for Astoria's inevitable reaction.

It occurred to Hermione that she ought to have asked his expectations about her role in this situation – but as far as she could tell, Malfoy only wanted it to look as if she were his date for the evening. Which could easily be accomplished without anything significant – like touching.

"So," she prompted as he began to tap an anxious rhythm on the table. "How are you finding the DMLE?"

Malfoy fixed her with an amused stare. "Small talk, eh? Am I that bad?" Rolling out his neck and shoulders, he straightened his posture. "Just waiting for the inevitable bomb to go off – but the DMLE is fine, thanks for asking. A lot of boring paperwork, the occasional exciting chase."

"Malfoy," she began, hesitating, "are you sure you're over Astoria?"

The bridge of his nose pulled into a wrinkle before he shook his head. "I've never cared for her, Granger." His voice dropped. "I just want her to leave me alone."

A frisson of nerves chased through Hermione's spine. "And you think she's going to be angry. Merlin, I'm regretting being dragged into this."

Waving a finger as if he couldn't quite decide what to make of the situation, he finally turned to her with a grimace. "Well, like I said. I won't let anything happen to you, even if she turns violent."

Hermione grumbled into her drink, "How reassuring."

Malfoy tossed back half his drink into a single swig. "Let's dance. That feels more sensible than sitting out here in the open."

Gaping at his apparent paranoia, Hermione shook her head, even as she allowed herself to be pulled towards the dance floor, where a dozen or so couples were embarrassing themselves to an anxious beat. "You make it sound like she's going to pick us off from a distance or something."

His voice was a facetious whisper. "You never know."

It was then that Hermione realized she hadn't even seen Astoria since early in the evening, which had been well over an hour prior, maybe closer to two now. She pondered, "Do you think Astoria's gone home?"

"No," he muttered. "For all we know, she's got eyes on us right now. Just… act natural."

Involvement in his plan was starting to look like the worst idea she'd ever gone along with – and she'd followed Harry and Ron into some ridiculous situations in the past.

"From all you've shared," she mused, casually slipping her arms around his neck and trying to ignore the splay of Malfoy's fingers at her hips, "I'm surprised you've managed to survive with her for this long. She must have some redeeming qualities."

Understanding dawning, Malfoy gave an awkward chuckle. "If you're referring to sex –" He glanced away, his gaze sweeping the hall. "That's a no-go. The contract included a purity clause. Which, thank Merlin, because the only way I was actually able to break the agreement was because the relationship was never consummated."

Eyeing him, Hermione stifled a giggle. "So you haven't even –"

With a dark look, he shook his head. "And considering the infidelity clause, which went into effect on Astoria's seventeenth birthday…" A dull flush coloured his cheeks as her eyes widened. "And for the record, that was two weeks after you and I slept together."

"Wait," she hissed, drawing out the word, "I was your last? Merlin, Malfoy, that was years ago."

"Rub it in," he sniffed, looking incredibly put out. "Why do you think I've been trying to break the contract so badly? Aside from the obvious, not wanting a crazy wife, thing."

Unable to resist a bright laugh, she grinned at him. "Impressive willpower. I can only imagine how the last few months have gone for you."

Even despite her words and her efforts to keep things casual and flippant, her stomach twisted at the thought of him bedding random women just because he could. Merlin knew he had the looks and the charm.

But he remained silent, his eyes hooded as he stared at her. "One-offs aren't my thing. They weren't then, and I guess they still aren't. I have no interest in using a woman for sex."

Grey eyes flickered to land on hers, and her mouth went dry in an instant.

Before she could respond, he glanced away. "And you? I saw you and Krum were back together a while ago. How's that gone?"

Huffing a laugh, she felt a smile pull at her lips. "Short-lived, as it turned out. Viktor and I were about as intellectually compatible now as we were when I was fifteen."

"I always wondered how that even happened." A twist pulled at his lips, his hands adjusting to the small of her back as the song slowed to a ballad. Her fingers twisted into the soft blond strands at the nape of his neck, and she thought she saw his eyelids flutter.

Suddenly, she wondered at his motivations in asking her to join his scheme, when given the thought she was the last woman he'd been intimate with, and that had been when they were still at Hogwarts. Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she merely allowed herself to fall into the music. He was an excellent lead, which came as no surprise, given his upbringing.

"Astoria." Malfoy's eyes were wide when she drew back, his hands tensed on her. "What do we do?"

"You didn't think this through at all, did you?" Hermione asked, shaking her head in exasperation. She followed his line of sight to the narrowed green eyes of his former intended, and her co-worker. "You wanted her to see you here with someone else, and she has."

"You're right." His lips pursed with consideration. "Unless she thinks we're only dancing together."

"It's possible," Hermione conceded. She usually ended up dancing with all sorts of people at these functions. "Shall we go elsewhere? If she's seen us once, and you aren't exaggerating, she'll be watching us now. And for the record," she added, snickering, "I find it highly amusing that you're a fully trained Auror, and you're afraid of her."

"You'd be afraid too if you understood what we're up against," he hissed, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Once again, I'm so thrilled you chose to involve me in your poorly contrived plan."

He cracked an apologetic grin. "Fine. Let's get another drink. You're committed now."

Fingers still playing at the small of her back, he led her to the bar where they ordered another round. Hermione could feel eyes on her, though she could no longer see their adversary, and a chill crept down her back.

An anxious tension played third party as they sipped their drinks, making idle chatter. She could tell Malfoy was aware they were being watched, but Astoria had yet to make her presence known. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Forcing a smile, Hermione breathed, "This is terrifying."

His returning smile looked like a grimace. "I told you." Finishing his drink, he muttered, "Let's walk or something."

"Walk, run," she whispered, "anywhere but here."

Stiffly, they made their way from the central hall towards an offshoot corridor where only a few people lingered. Malfoy dragged her down the corridor with an anxious stare.

Hermione froze, and his grip on her arm tightened like a vice, when a voice called out, "Oh, Draco! Hermione!"

Astoria's shadow bounced off the walls around them, and Hermione couldn't tell whether she was behind or ahead of them. Fixing Malfoy with a look, she said, "Here's your chance."

"Right." Pressing his lips together, his throat bobbed with a thick swallow. "I'll tell her I'm here with you."

"That was the plan," Hermione breathed.

"Draco, whatever are you doing down here?" A bright, tittering laugh sounded from all around them at once.

A visible shudder swept through him and her eyes tightened. Meeting his cautious stare, she asked, "What are your limits?"

He choked out, "I don't have any if it'll lose her for good."

They both turned at the clicking of stilettos on the tiled floor, and Hermione could feel the rampant pulse of her heart in her chest. She wondered idly whether she had absorbed Malfoy's worry about the situation or whether Astoria was actually crazy.

Ultimately, she believed him.

The footsteps were only around the corner, and Hermione rolled her eyes with a gruff, "You're going to owe me twice."

His brow furrowed with confusion and she pressed him back against the wall; with her tall heels she was able to look him in the eye as she swept her hands back into his hair, before her eyes fell shut and she kissed him, hard.

With a tentative sort of pressure, he returned the kiss, hands sweeping up her back to hitch her closer, and Hermione wound up pressed against him, making her best effort at keeping her mind clear of the sensations his touch awoke in her.

His tongue grazed hers; she could feel the smirk against her lips. A soft whimper escaped her throat as desire pooled low in her belly.

"Draco!"

Despite that she had kissed him with the expectations of being caught, colour flared in Hermione's cheeks as she wrenched away. It felt like a bucket of ice-water, after being in his heated embrace.

Malfoy looked suitably wide-eyed as Astoria stomped towards him, faltering a little in the sharp points of her heels. For a fleeting instant, Hermione imagined those heels stabbed through her flesh. Waving her hands, Astoria exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

It was as if Hermione wasn't even there, which was fine in her mind.

Adjusting his tie, Malfoy said, "I should think it was obvious."

Gaping, Astoria spun on Hermione, who offered a sort of pained grimace. "Hermione! How could you!"

"Granger and I are here together," he interrupted, his hand coming to rest on her back once more. Hermione wasn't certain whether it was for her support or his own. "Since, as I've told you a million times, you and I are no longer engaged."

Astoria pouted. "But we're getting back together. The wedding is still on!"

"It isn't," Malfoy drawled, cocking a brow. "That's what it means when I say we're no longer engaged."

Folding her arms, Astoria's suspicious glance darted between the pair of them. Then she huffed a loud exhale. "Are you together?"

Hermione glanced at Malfoy. He clicked his tongue and said, "Yes." The hand on her back hitched her closer and she couldn't help her gaze from landing on his mouth.

Astoria's painted lips twisted into a cruel smile, and her bright eyes seared into Hermione's own. "We'll see about that, won't we?" Her gaze hardened and slid to rest on Malfoy, who visibly swallowed. "I'll be speaking with my lawyers. And my father. This is not over."

In a swirl of blonde hair and expensive fabrics, Astoria spun and marched off, stumbling once more in her heels. Malfoy released a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He choked, "Fuck."

Hermione shifted, unable to meet his gaze after the kiss she'd initiated. "Correct me if I'm wrong… but she doesn't seem heartbroken."

"She isn't," he sneered. "She doesn't love me. She loves my name and my family's money."

Sinking a little into his persisting hold, she mused, "What do you think she'll do?"

"Who knows," he muttered with a grimace. "Hopefully nothing tonight. I need a bloody drink."

Chuckling, Hermione sidled away from him. "So I'm guessing my services are no longer necessary?" His gaze swept to hers, a furrow in his brow and she faltered. "Come on – this round's on me."

"So once you finally escape this situation," Hermione mused, feeling a hint of a buzz tingle in the warmth of her skin as they ordered another round. "What's the plan?"

Malfoy's eyes were lidded as they fixed on her. "I hadn't decided yet."

"Because." Brandishing her cocktail, she went on. "You could end up on one of those inane Witch Weekly eligible bachelor lists."

"Right," he drawled, "because that's my biggest aspiration in life. Suppose I'll just keep focusing at work. It's a bit of an uphill climb, you know? Being a former Death Eater in the Auror's office."

"For what it's worth," Hermione intoned, her voice low, "I think you've done well."

A smirk crossed his features. "Thanks. And you – I've been watching your rapid ascent through the world of Magical Creatures. What's the long-term goal? Minister?"

Eyes widening, she shook her head. "I'd like to run the Department. One day. Or maybe I'll just get out of the Ministry altogether. Facilitate some sort of creature sanctuary."

"I can see it," he mused. "You should do that. Ministry politics are a pain in the arse."

Chuckling, she raised her glass; he pressed his against it with a dull clink. They both took a swig, grinning.

"Granger." His gaze was contemplative as he stared at her; she lifted her brows. "Thanks. For tonight. For going along with this… and Merlin, that kiss."

"Sorry," she choked out, a flush colouring her cheeks. "I didn't know if that was taking it too far."

"No." With a snicker, he stared at the table. Then a devilish smirk crossed his face. "Not far enough, if I'm being honest."

Swallowing, her mouth felt dry. "What?"

His expression was serious. "I don't want to be Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor, Granger. I want…" He swallowed, panic in his grey eyes as he looked at her. "I want a chance to fix what happened between us." Sweeping a hand through his hair, he added, "I didn't even know the contract existed until Astoria's birthday or I never would have led you on, Granger."

Heat swept across her skin as she stared at him, a heavy lump in her throat. "Back then, I think I fancied myself falling for you, Draco Malfoy." Forcing a smile, she shook her head. "It broke my heart when I heard."

"I have no right to ask for a second chance," he breathed.

"Are you asking anyway?"

His jaw was tight. "Yes."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and he dropped a hand atop hers where it rested on the table, his thumb stroking the back of it.

With a tight breath, she nodded. "Once this situation with Astoria is settled."

"Deal." His breath was warm as he leaned in, his lips meeting her temple. "Let me take you somewhere? As thanks."

"Where?" she asked, a smile pulling at her lips at the sparkle in his eyes.

"I don't know about you," he said, finishing the last of his drink, "but I'm bloody starving."

The restaurant of Malfoy's choosing, as it turned out, was a small buffet place in a quiet Muggle neighbourhood. Glancing at him with uncertainty, Hermione allowed him to guide her into the establishment, as he offered a clipped, "What?"

Her lips twitched. "Nothing."

Their formal wear was horribly at odds with the tacky decor and plastic upholstery.

"Even I enjoy a good buffet, Granger."

"It's just…" Tittering, she wiped at the corner of one eye. "I highly doubt they serve caviar and escargot here."

Cocking an unimpressed brow, he shook his head as his fingers clenched around her hip, drawing her back against him. "Banal." There was no host present so he selected a table near the buffet, and chewed on his tongue. "And for your information, I don't care for caviar or escargot. What I do like, however, is a mean crab cake, and this place has those in spades."

"Crab cakes." It was a physical effort to hold back a laugh, and the serious look on his face was her undoing as she burst into laughter in the otherwise quiet restaurant.

The way his grey eyes darkened caused something to twist in her stomach. But a smirk drew across his face and he said, "I'm glad my taste in food is a source of enjoyment to you."

"By all means," Hermione gasped, "enjoy your crab cakes. I'm sure you'll find an excellent Caesar salad to go along with it."

Sidling up along the buffet table, he quirked a brow with a mockingly aristocratic, disdainful stare. "I prefer Greek."

As Hermione barked another laugh, tears breaking from her eyes, it occurred to her she'd had more than a few drinks on a marginal dinner, and it was a good thing they were eating, if the look in Malfoy's eye was anything to go by.

His hand lingered just above the curve of her arse, fingers teasing the bare flesh exposed by the cut of her dress, before he began to fill his plate. Heat clenched in her core as she drank him in.

Colour infused Malfoy's cheek as he pointed at her with a crisp chip, a prop for his argument as the pair of them cackled with reminiscent laughter.

"You are never going to persuade me," Hermione chuckled, taking a long drink of her lemon water, "that you weren't a right prat third year."

"Merlin, no," he said, dragging a hand down his face, "I don't suppose I am. Nor should I."

Grinning, Hermione met his stare. "Luckily you turned out alright."

His expression shifted, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. Dropping the chip to his empty plate, he rolled out his neck. "Thanks, Granger. As did you – not that that is any surprise."

Voice soft, she said, "Thanks Malfoy."

When she was unable to stifle a wide yawn, he glanced with surprise at his watch. "It is late. Suppose I ought to get you home like a good date." Digging out his wallet, he left a few Muggle notes on the table that looked to include a generous gratuity.

Hermione wasn't quite sure whether she detected anything other than propriety in his tone, and she pressed her lips into a smile. Guiding her from the establishment, Malfoy paced at her side, slipping his hands into his pockets.

The night air was cool, and a shiver shot through her as they walked to the nearest alley to Disapparate. Malfoy turned to face her, his eyes tight but expression stoic.

"Thanks again, Granger. For tonight."

A sting of disappointment played in the pit of her stomach as she nodded. "Right. Of course. I had fun, you know, considering." Dragging her lower lip between her teeth, she said, "Let me know how it plays out?"

"Oh, I will," he said, cracking a wry grin. "I'm not forgetting what you said, once this is all resolved."

Feeling a surge of nerves, Hermione took a step closer. "I mean, it's really a technicality isn't it?" Her hands played with the lapels of his coat. "You broke the contract already, I mean."

His voice was a breath, warm against her cheek. "I did."

"And you owe me a favour in return," she whispered.

"Two," he corrected, his lips pulling into a smirk. "Two favours – though we could probably count that kiss as two in itself –"

Cutting him off, she dragged him closer, her lips meeting his. His eyes were dark when she drew back. "If you're amenable, I'd call in the first favour tonight. Apparate me home?"

Gaze smouldering, he muttered, "I thought you'd never ask."

Fingers sliding back into the base of her curls, tugging a few loose from her hairdo, his mouth met hers again, and somewhere behind the heady feel of him pressed against him, she was aware of the sensation of Apparition.

But she didn't draw back, even when they landed in her flat, and a whimper chased from her throat as his hands skimmed her sides, tongue grazing hers.

"I'm not going to lie," he murmured against her lips as his fingers slid down the curve of her jaw, "I've been dreaming of this for years."

Pushing his jacket from his shoulders, she breathed, "Me too."

Sliding one of the straps of her dress down her shoulder, and following the motion with his lips, he released a soft chuckle. "And I hope you realize I won't be some paragon of endurance after this long."

With a bright laugh, Hermione smiled widely at him. Any lingering hesitation between them dissipated away as she pulled at his tie, her fingers deft as she slipped the knot free. Kissing him again, she mused, "Something tells me we'll have time to work on it."

Something like a growl pulled from his throat as he hoisted her into his arms; surprised, she coiled her arms around his neck and kicked off her heels as he ventured down the corridor off the sitting room.

"First on the left," she breathed, pressing her lips to his as he stumbled through the doorway into her bedroom. He gently returned her to the ground, and Hermione made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric from his shoulders.

He was stronger than he'd been at eighteen, the muscles of his arms and chest well defined, and desire pooled, hot and thick, within her as she gazed at him. Eyes darkened with lust, he slid the dress free of her other shoulder, and the sleek fabric dropped to pool at her feet, leaving Hermione in only her knickers.

Colour flared in her cheeks. Despite that he'd seen her nude once before, it had been years. But he only whispered, "You're so beautiful," before leaning in to drag his teeth along the curve of her jaw, trailing a line of kisses along her throat to her collarbone.

Dragging his belt free of the loops, Hermione halted when his mouth met the peak of her breast, his hand finding the other, and her eyes fluttered shut with a groan as her hands lingered at the closure of his trousers, brushing against the firm evidence of his arousal.

When he released a long groan, her core clenched tightly and she pushed the trousers from his hips, dipping a hand into his pants to take him within her fingers.

"You're going to kill me," he breathed against her chest, drawing away to kiss her as his hands slid along the bare curve of her arse to drag her closer. "But really – I have no intentions of coming in your hand so you need to stop."

Laughing, and burying her face in his shoulder, she maneuvered him towards the bed. Dragging her down with him, his hands explored her body, pushing her knickers free and she toed them the rest of the way to the floor.

Despite the long years between them, she felt perfectly at ease with him, and feeling more than ready, she positioned him at her entrance. At her nod, and a nip to his lower lip, he slid into her with a groan, his face dropping into her neck as he shifted, teasing her partway in.

Then he began to move, setting first a slow rhythm, then escalating. A cry escaped Hermione as he slammed into her, his lips pressing hard against hers again, and the emotions from the last time during their eighth year came back in a flood that tugged at something deep within her chest.

Her fingers coiled in the blond strands at the nape of his neck, legs twisting around his hips at the punishing cadence that matched the pace of her heart. With an arch of her back, her head fell back with a cry as release chased through her and broke free, darkening her vision.

With a groan, Malfoy thrust once more and stilled, his eyelids fluttering shut as his arms caged her face. His eyes blinked open to find hers, and a crooked grin crept across his face as he withdrew from her core and settled alongside.

The hard lines of his body were damp from sweat when he drew her close, but Hermione tucked into his side, her lips finding his one last time as her eyes slid shut. Within moments, she was drifting to sleep, a smile lingering on her lips.

Hermione awoke with a drowsy start to a tapping on the window, and a hand tightening around her hip. Her eyes slid open to find a pair of sleepy grey ones, and a smile broke unbidden across her lips as she murmured, "Hi."

The hold on her skin tightened. "You have an owl."

Blinking in surprise, Hermione forced herself from his warmth to open the window, sneaking back beneath the covers as the bird flew in and dropped a letter on Malfoy's chest before departing in a whirl of feathers.

Aside from the tightening of his eyes, his expression was inscrutable as he read the missive. Then he clicked his tongue, pressing the parchment into her hand as he rolled onto his back. Confused, Hermione unrolled the letter.

Draco

All is well, and the engagement is back on! I've spoken with Father, and he is meeting with the lawyers this morning to remedy our contract and close up any more possible loopholes. We will have the revised contract in place before the end of the week.

The Future Mrs Astoria Malfoy

PS. Good luck finding someone else willing to marry you this week before the contract takes hold again!

The blood drained from Hermione's face as unease churned in her stomach; her heart raced in her chest. Malfoy was gazing at the ceiling, his jaw tight, but when his face rolled towards hers, his brows were lifted and hopeful. Despite herself, she felt a smile tugging on her lips.

"So," he drawled, his fingers playing along the bare skin of her stomach and dipping between her legs, "it appears as if I need another favour."