AN: It was a long time coming, but finally the sequel to With Reckless Abandon. It works as a standalone one-shot, but obviously has more context if you read the original.

DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter and its characters. Anything resembling her work belongs to her.

Draco hadn't had a proper night's rest in weeks. He couldn't get the bloody bint out of his mind. It didn't help that the last time he saw her she looked as frightened as a rabbit cornered by a fox before hightailing it out of the ballroom. Nor did it help that Blaise had pointed out the fading charm on his hair moments afterwards. So whoever she was, she knew him: Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and world-class prat. And she clearly was not pleased by that revelation. If running from him like he was the reincarnation of Voldemort hadn't been enough, then the obvious lack of contact in the three subsequent weeks after the ball were evidence that she clearly did not retain any interest in him.

He shook his head trying to clear the memories of that night. She had looked gorgeous in her crimson dress, and his eyes had found her almost the moment she walked into the room. She was captivating, not just for her beauty, but also for her grace, and as he would later discover, her wit. Draco had never been drawn to a woman like that before. He'd had his fair share of flings over the year, but this creature had been singular. He knew he should never have let her walk away after their night together, but something inside him screamed for him to let her go. Now he was regretting listening to that voice.

Draco sighed and rolled over for the umpteenth time as if a change in position would calm his overactive mind. He wasn't surprised at the situation, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Something about this woman had been different, and yet familiar at the same time. While he knew that the moments they shared together were stolen - a result of the masquerade - he also knew that their connection was real. A part of him had wanted to strip them of their masks, to have her as him and not as her mysterious stranger, but it seems her reluctance allowed Draco to at least have that one clandestine encounter, something her later reaction proved a real-life impossibility. Yet, he could not let her go, despite his very clear understanding of her disinterest. He was curious. Not only was his mystery woman the most beguiling beauty he'd ever met, but she was someone he knew. That unsettling sense of familiarity and instinctual knowledge that the masks were necessary were proof, as was her hasty departure upon recognizing him. The look in her eyes was more than shock and displeasure; there was fear there and a flickering of pure contempt. It was too vulnerable, her reaction, to be someone he had only met in passing. No, she was someone he had personally wronged in his years of morally dubious behavior.

Draco was not an idiot. On the contrary, he considered himself a rather intelligent, cunning, and intuitive individual. He had an idea who his mystery woman was, and if he was being honest with himself, a part of him knew that night. He'd only ever known one woman with her wit, one woman with her unruly curls, one woman that would run from him in pure terror after learning it was he whom she slept with.

Draco rolled over again. While subconsciously he knew that his mystery woman was most likely Granger, his conscious self still tried fervently to deny it. Surprisingly, not because she was muggle-born or because she was best friends with Potter or because the girl he knew in school was the most insufferable know-it-all on the planet. No, he couldn't accept that Granger was his mystery woman, because if she was, Draco would likely be pining for a woman he could never have.

Hermione threw down her quill with a frustrated huff. It was no use. She hadn't been able to focus on her work since the ministry ball. She couldn't stop thinking about that night, about him. And he definitely did not deserve to be occupying her thoughts so completely.

She had slept with Draco Malfoy. In a moment of uncharacteristic impulsiveness, Hermione made the mistake of sleeping with an anonymous stranger who turned out to be her childhood tormentor. This much she had come to accept in the moments after she fled the ball. She apparated home as soon as she was in the alley outside of the ministry's entrance, then walked briskly towards her apartment, half running as she almost reached her building. When she entered her apartment, she rested her head against the door as she shut it behind her. After catching her breath, she had disrobed and got herself ready for bed in a mechanical, absentminded state. Once she was in bed, however, her brain went into overdrive. She argued with herself, analyzed the situation in every way possible, and eventually managed to accept what had occurred. No one ever had to know except her. Malfoy still had no clue it was her he had shared that night with and Ginny still thought Hermione did not know the identity of her mystery man. Hermione had simply decided to pretend the night never happened and do everything she could to avoid bumping into Malfoy in the near future. Eventually, the whole thing really would fade from her memory and everything would be as before.

That plan lasted all of about one day before Hermione's brain started to overanalyze the events of the night before. It kept bringing her back to one niggling thought, the one she tried her hardest to ignore: she knew. Some part of her had known from the moment she saw him who he really was, though she had done her best to ignore her intuition. And yet she had still gone through with the flirting and the dancing and, yes, the sex. What did that say about her, that at some level she had wanted to do all those things with a man she loathed, and who loathed her? And more than that, why couldn't she stop dwelling on it after she had been forced to accept the truth? She knew why, but she hadn't yet allowed herself to admit it. Admitting it would make it real, and once it was real, she would have to acknowledge that it was a complete impossibility.

Hermione groaned before putting her head in her hands. Moments later she was interrupted by the loud banging of her office door being flung open. A flash of red was the only thing she registered before small, tanned hands were slamming down on the desk right in front of her.

"Ok. That's it!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed. Hermione simply stared at her in shock and bemusement. "You've been moping about ever since that damn ball. Come on. Grab your things. We're getting lunch."

Before Hermione could even respond, she was being roughly yanked from her chair and dragged through the ministry corridors by a determined redhead. The next thing she knew, she found herself sitting opposite the youngest Weasley at a little muggle cafe not far from the ministry. Ginny quickly ordered for the both of them then turned to Hermione and pinned her with an intense stare.

"We're going to find him," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"What? Find who?" Hermione questioned, finally breaking out of her stupor.

"That mystery bloke who clearly charmed your arse so thoroughly that you've done nothing but sigh longingly for three weeks," Ginny explained with little patience.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione feigned innocence.

"Don't play dumb, Hermione. It doesn't suit you." Hermione sighed.

"It's fine, Ginny, really. I don't need to hunt down some guy I knew for barely an hour."

"Clearly you do because you're acting like you've lost the love of your life," Ginny replied. Hermione scoffed at Ginny's hyperbole.

"Stop being overdramatic. I have not been that bad." She knew she had been a little out of sorts but it wasn't like she was a constant sobbing mess or anything.

Ginny leaned back in her chair. "I know, but I hate seeing you like this and if finding your mystery man will help then I'll do everything I can to find him. Honestly, it can't be that difficult."

"I don't need to find him. I'll be fine in a few days.I promise." It sounded weak, even to her.

"But Hermione, it would be no effort at all. A few questions here, dropping Harry's name there. It wouldn't -"

"Let it go, Ginny," Hermione snapped.

Ginny blinked for a few seconds. "Why are you fighting me? Don't you want to know? You're the most inquisitive person I've ever met."

"No, I don't. Just drop it." Ginny gasped.

"You already know! Oh merlin! You have to tell me who it is."

Hermione grit her teeth. "I said drop it, Ginny."

"Oh come on, Hermione. Why won't you tell me? Please!"

"I'm serious!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It can't be that bad. It's not like I would judge you for it. I respect that you are able to make your own decisions about your sex life."

"Please, Ginny!" Hermione cried getting desperate.

"And it's not like I'll judge your taste or anything. I once hooked up with Seamus after a Quidditch party and I even had the misfortune of having a crush on Malfoy for a minute in fourth year. I mean, the man was a git but his arse …" Ginny trailed off, noticing the look of panic that crossed Hermione's face at the mention of Malfoy.

"No!" Ginny gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Merlin, Hermione! Malfoy?"

Hermione shushed her emphatically. "Shh. Keep your voice down."

"We're in muggle London. No one will hear us," Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively. "How long have you known?"

Sighing, knowing there was no point keeping anything from Ginny now, Hermione answered, "Since the night of the ball."

"No!" Ginny gasped again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione shot her a look that clearly said the answer to that should be obvious.

"Alright. Ok. I get it. But, wow Hermione. Malfoy. Malfoy."

"Please stop saying his name," Hermione pleaded as she rested her forehead in her hand.

"So what are you going to do?" Ginny queried.

"Do? What do you think I'm going to do? Nothing," Hermione replied.

"Well you clearly have to do something because you've been doing nothing but pining after Malfoy for weeks."

"I have not been pining," Hermione countered primly. "And what am I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say 'Hey Malfoy, I know we hate each other and you think I'm a filthy mudblood, but it was me you shagged senseless that night at the ball and I think we should give this a shot'? Yeah, that'll go over well."

"He doesn't know it was you?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "The charm on his hair started fading as I was leaving and I figured it out."

"Wow," Ginny said again, then she paused, looking thoughtful. "Well do you want to give it a shot with Malfoy?"

Hermione shot her an incredulous look, which Ginny returned with a raised eyebrow, unfazed. Hermione considered it for a moment.

"I don't know. Maybe," Hermione finally answered. "Before I knew who he was, he seemed perfect, Gin. The connection felt real. I could really see myself pursuing a relationship with the mystery man."

"And I bet the sex wasn't half bad either."

"Ginny!" Hermione looked scandalized.

"What? He has a reputation, you know," Ginny shot back.

"Anyways," Hermione said, ending that thread of conversation. "If it was anyone besides Malfoy, I probably would. But there's too much history there. Nevermind the fact that he literally thinks of me as the dirt beneath his shoes."

"Now, you know that's not true," Ginny remarked, stopping Hermione who was about to interrupt. "Maybe once upon a time, but he's changed, and don't try to deny it. He was never as bad as his parents and in recent years he's done a lot to atone for his past and change his way of thinking. He's helped catch all those Death Eaters and even Harry and Ron seem to tolerate him enough at work. He's still a git, sure, but he's not an evil git. And really, if he felt that way, do you think he would've slept with a random girl if there was a definite risk of her being muggle-born or halfblood?"

"I don't know, Gin. Maybe he doesn't feel that way about muggle-borns in general, but this is us. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. We hate each other. It would never work."

"Do you really hate him though?" Ginny asked.

Hermione thought about it and the truth was no, she didn't really hate him still. If she was being honest, in the last few years she'd felt at worst indifference towards Malfoy and at times even more than a little respect. Maybe Ginny had a point, but even then it seemed highly unlikely that Malfoy had suddenly changed his opinion of her.

After lunch with Ginny, Hermione found herself trying to work up the courage to visit the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ginny had told her that Harry had apparently noticed her sudden reluctance to visit him at work and had shared with Ginny that he missed Hermione and was worried about her peculiar absence. Of course, it wasn't Harry she was avoiding, but visiting Harry meant risking bumping into Malfoy, so Hermione had avoided their department like the plague. Rather than explaining the situation to Harry, Hermione decided she would brave the trip to the DMLE so that Harry and Ron wouldn't worry about her. The chances of actually crossing paths with Malfoy were slim anyways.

She was almost to Harry's office when fate decided to be cruel. Draco Malfoy emerged from his office just as she was walking by and barreled straight into her. Hermione braced herself for an impact that never came. Instead, she found herself wrapped in familiar, secure arms and looking straight into Draco's grey eyes.

"Careful there, Granger," he said as he righted her, never breaking eye contact.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed."Thank you. I mean, I'm sorry. I …" she trailed off.

"It's alright, Granger. I'm just glad I was able to catch you. My apologies. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He kept staring at her with a strange intensity that made Hermione nervous. For a second, she wondered if he knew about that night, about her. She shook her head. There was no way he could possibly know.

"It's fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "I was just on my way to see Harry."

"Then I shan't keep you a moment longer," he said with a bit of a bow. "Give Potter my best. See you around, Granger."

With that he walked off leaving a stunned and flustered Hermione behind him. After a few seconds, she collected herself and closed the remaining distance to Harry's office. She knocked twice gently before receiving a quiet "come in" and entering Harry's office.

Harry smiled brilliantly when he realized it was Hermione. He got up from his desk and wrapped her in a big hug.

"There you are! I was beginning to worry I'd done something wrong and needed to apologize but couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she offered a little distractedly. "I've just been terribly busy lately."

"Are you alright? You seem a little flustered."

"Oh, it's nothing." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I just bumped into Malfoy on the way over. He says hello, by the way."

"Are you sure you're okay? You aren't sick or anything? I swear there must be something going around. Malfoy has been acting morose for weeks and I haven't seen you at all in just as long. Maybe you caught something at the ball."

"Maybe," Hermione agreed half-heartedly. She was still trying to digest what Harry had said about Draco's behavior. It seemed he was in some way affected by that night as well. She was also distracted by the lingering memory of his arms around her. The feeling was far too familiar and made her feel incredibly … safe. Hermione collected herself. No need to give Harry more reason to worry. "I just wanted to come and see you. I realized I'd buried myself in work a bit."

"No worries," Harry waved her off. "I'm just glad to see you. And glad I didn't do anything wrong." Hermione laughed.

"I'm serious. You're downright terrifying when you're mad." Hermione laughed harder, realizing how much better she felt now that she was talking to Harry again.

The rest of Draco's work day had been useless. After bumping into Granger, he was more sure than ever that she was his mystery woman. Everything about her was familiar; her eyes, her voice, even the feel of her in his arms. And the look she gave him. She was simultaneously panicked and confused by his presence. Yes, he was absolutely sure that it was Granger.

But what he couldn't understand was her reaction to him. She didn't seem disgusted or apathetic as if she was resolved to forget the whole thing. No, she'd seemed … flustered, which was the last reaction he'd expected. He'd known Granger was avoiding his department. She was usually a pretty regular fixture, often visiting Potter and Weasley, but she'd been conspicuously absent for the past three weeks and Draco knew it was because of him. Apparently, today she'd decided to lift her temporary ban on the DMLE. And of course he'd walked right into her. It was instinctual to catch her, and once she was in his arms it was like he was right back at the masquerade ball. He'd expected her to recoil in disgust, but instead she'd just stared at him with shock and trepidation no hint of disgust. She'd seemed nervous, as if she didn't know how to talk to him. He just couldn't figure out why.

The wishful part of him supplied that maybe she wasn't as disinterested as he had thought. But that didn't make sense. Why would Granger still be interested in him? And besides, it's not like she had done anything about it. She knew exactly who it was she shagged that night and only had to come to him if she so desired. Not necessarily, that ever optimistic part of him responded. They'd hated each other for years and for all she knew, Draco still harbored as much ill-will towards her as he'd always had. She also didn't know he was aware of who his mystery woman was. It was possible, that stupidly annoying hopeful side thought, that she was worried he would reject her. The thought had never occurred to him because, frankly, she was way out of his league, an impossible concept. But her reaction earlier had given him hope he'd not allowed himself to have before.

In that moment, he was resolved. He could not keep going on as he was presently. The sleeplessness, the lack of focus, it couldn't continue. Draco could only think of one solution; he needed closure. Whether Granger rejected him or, less likely, accepted his attentions, the whole insane situation would be over and done with. His mystery woman would have a face and Draco could move on.

Hermione sat in her office trying to focus on work while her mind decided to analyze every minute detail of her interaction with Draco the day before as it was wont to do. As she was rereading the same paragraph for the third time, she heard a light knock on her office door. She looked up and permitted the visitor "come in."

To her surprise, Draco Malfoy walked in looking hesitant.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, perhaps a little more shrilly than she intended, wincing as she heard the panic in her voice.

"Relax, Granger," Draco smiled. "I'm just dropping off some paperwork." He placed the aforementioned paperwork in her inbox before taking a seat in one of the two chairs facing her desk. Hermione let her eyes dart around the room at everything that was not Draco.

"So how have you been?" Hermione's eyes finally landed on Draco at the sound of his voice. He looked so nonchalant, casually sprawled across her chair with one eyebrow cocked as he waited for an answer to her question.

"Oh um … w-w-well. Erm, I've been well. And you, Malfoy?" she eventually managed to respond.

"I've been alright. Did you enjoy the ball a few weeks ago? I don't know if I saw you there." Hermione's breath hitched before she once again composed herself.

"I … yes. I had a lovely night." It was the truth, right up until she ran from him in complete shock.

"I did too. Quite an interesting night actually. I met the most intriguing woman, but I didn't catch her name." Malfoy was staring at her quite oddly. Almost as if he … but that was impossible. He couldn't know could he?

Hermione laughed nervously. "A hazard of the masquerade theme, I guess."

"You wouldn't happen to have known who it was, would you?" He never released her from that stare that was beginning to make her quite uncomfortable. "She was wearing a gorgeous red dress and white mask. Said she was the date of someone in my department."

"Why don't you ask the guys in your department?" Hermione deflected. At least all but Harry, she thought quickly.

"You see, I've asked all the men in my department whose dates I didn't already know and none of them seem to recall her."

"Why ask me?"

"Well, Granger, you always know everything." He was still staring at her with that infuriatingly relentless gaze. He knew. Somehow he knew, and he wanted her to be the one to say it.

"Fine," she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "It was me! Merlin, you're so infuriating. If you knew, why make me sit through this imbecilic game?"

"Actually, Granger, I didn't know. I had a hunch. Now I know." He smirked at her.

"Oh." She looked at him searchingly, trying to guess his game. Was he here to torment her about it? Ask her to keep it between them? Why was he bringing it up?

After a beat he finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She looked at him quizzically. "Sorry for what?"

"For not telling you who I was." He looked down then, his fingers gently fiddling with the arm of the chair. "It was clear from your … departure that you would not have proceeded with things as you did had you known my identity."

"If I remember correctly, it was me that insisted we keep the masks on."

"But if I'd just …" She put up a hand to stop him.

"No, Draco. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I was more shocked than anything. I just … didn't know how to face you after I knew who you were, so I ran." She offered him an apologetic smile. "Honestly, I think a part of me knew it was you the whole time. That's why I had us keep our masks on."

He looked back up at her. "Granger, I want you to know, I don't regret that night. I think a part of me new it was you as well. It's why I let you keep the mask, why I let you leave."

Hermione looked startled. This whole conversation was not going the way she expected, though she wasn't necessarily upset about that.

"I … I understand if we just want to sweep this under the rug, chock it up to the power of anonymity, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm not upset that it was you. Quite the opposite actually."

The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. Hermione's heart stuttered. This couldn't be happening. Was Draco Malfoy seriously in her office telling her he was happy he slept with her?

"Are you … are you trying to say you're happy about what happened?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"Hermione," he began as he reached across the desk to take one of her hands in both of his, "The woman I met that night, she knocked me off my feet. Everything I said to you I meant and everything I felt was real. When I realized it was you, I was only upset because it would be too much to ask that you forget our past." He looked down briefly to collect himself then met her shocked gaze. "I need to know, Hermione, if you felt, feel, the same way."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She just sat there with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open like a fish. This was the last thing she expected.

"I …" Hermione began, but she really didn't know what she wanted to say. She thought back to what Ginny had asked her the day before, about whether or not she wanted a relationship with Malfoy. She had long ago forgiven him for his childish cruelty, something he had apologized to her for very shortly after the war. Since then, she'd had only neutral interactions with him. Not to mention the fact he was gorgeous and their one night together was the best sex of her life. Her one hesitancy was her belief that Malfoy still hated her, which his uncharacteristically open confession completely nullified. The man in front of her was everything she wanted: intelligent, charming, handsome. Granted, he could be sarcastic, spoiled, and generally obnoxious, but sometimes she found it endearing, and after all, no one's perfect. If she was honest, what did she have to lose? Unlike with Ron, there was no friendship to risk. The only thing she had to gamble was her heart, and as Ginny so aggressively liked to point out, there was no reward without the risk when it came to love.

She smiled at him gently and placed her other hand on top of his. "I felt the same way that night. Feel the same way."

He was up like a flash, pulling her with him by their joined hands as he quickly made his way around her desk. Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers, one hand buried in her hair while the other grasped her hip. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers.

"Merlin, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," Draco said with a content sigh.

Hermione blinked a few times as she started to come to her sense after the passionate declarations of the last few minutes. She pulled away from Draco a little, but still kept her hands on his arms.

"Listen, Draco. I'm willing to give this a shot, but we have to be realistic about this. I mean, we barely know each other. And then there's the media's reaction. They're going to be insane when they find out. And then our friends and family. I know Harry and Ron are cordial to you now, but they might not be too pleased to find out that you're shagging their best friend. Not to mention your parents …" Draco cut her off with another kiss. This one went on a for a few minutes before Draco finally pulled away from her.

"Hermione," she really was starting to love when he used her given name, "calm down. We're not getting married. We'll deal with it all as it comes. For now, just agree to have dinner with me tonight." She smiled at him warmly, his assurances actually assuaging the sudden anxiety that had set in.

"That I can do." She gave him one more swift peck before she stepped away. Taking it as his cue, Draco made his way to the door, pausing as he opened it.

"I'll see you later tonight, Granger," he said with a wink. "And as much as I loved your little mask, I'd prefer you'd leave it behind this time."

"I still maintain it was a good story, you must admit. Two masked strangers meeting, sharing a passionate night, and never learning who the other was," she said coyly.

He gave her a dazzling smile and responded simply, "I like this ending much better," before disappearing out the door. Hermione leaned back in her chair with a goofy smile on her face. She couldn't agree more.