To Choose A Good Book

Summary: Books often have a hidden purpose in life. They help us cope in moments of pain and sadness, they point us towards the road to self-discovery, they instruct us on the more profound questions of life and they reveal desires we never really knew we had.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. But I truly, truly wish I did. :)

"'Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are' is true enough, but I'd know you better if you told me what you reread."

- Francois Mauriac

- x -

"… And with these words of congratulations, I leave you, my dearest readers and offer my best wishes to the bride and groom-to-be. May you find all you desire in each other and, as the cliché tells us, live happily ever after."

Hermione gave her work one last look-over before dropping her quill and sending her article to the editing suite, where her colleagues were getting ready to publish the next day's edition of the Daily Prophet. She sighed contently as she watched her article soar out of her office, her fourth and final engagement notice of the day. Her work was done, and it wasn't even lunchtime. The flexible hours were by far the best aspect of her job. There were only a handful of days such as Valentine's Day or Boxing Day when Hermione was expected to be in the office at 6 in the morning and couldn't leave her desk before sunset, spending countless hours writing engagement notices.

The brunette put on her coat and left the building, heading towards her favourite café a couple of blocks from the Prophet office building. Stacked was bustling café-bookstore in Muggle London that Hermione could easily call her second home (or third, if we were to consider the Hogwarts library). The chime announced her arrival as she opened the door and Hermione was greeted by Sam, a roguishly-handsome waiter, who asked her whether she desired her regular or not. Our girl nodded and pointed to a distant table, in the corner; making it clear to all around she intended to occupy that particular space.

Instead of heading towards the corner table, Hermione made a beeline for the bookshelves and picked up her pick-me-up romance novel, Pride and Prejudice. She planned to pick up where she had left off a couple of days earlier but as she turned back towards her table, she noticed a man sitting in what would have been her seat. Now, usually Hermione would not have made such a big deal of it and chosen another table in the café, but on this particular morning, Stacked seemed to be at maximum capacity. Hermione begrudgingly headed to the table in the back to politely ask the man whether they could share the table. As she faced the man she lost the power of speech…

"Malfoy?", she whispered.

"Granger?", her voice had startled him, as he had his nose in a novel that had demanded most, if not all of his attention.

The stared at each other for awhile, speechless at the odds of them bumping into each other this way, until Hermione spoke, "Since when do you wear glasses?"

The man's eyes widened slightly and his hand pulled the ghastly frames off his nose and stored them in his jacket pocket. Hermione let out a small giggle when she noticed the man's cheeks reddening slightly. She smiled, "Would you mind if I joined you? It seems there aren't any other tables available."

Draco Malfoy glanced around the place and when he noticed that the words the witch in front of him had uttered were indeed true, he slowly nodded at her.

"Thank you." She settled herself and as she was taking off her coat, Sam brought her a piping hot cappuccino, topped off with a dollop of whipped cream and accompanied with a biscotti, just as she liked it. She thanked him and turned back to her companion.

"You haven't yet told me what you are doing here, Malfoy."

"I could point out that you didn't ask me but then again, I wasn't aware I was supposed to report my every movement to you, Granger."

A smile graced Hermione's face and she cocked her head to her side, "Your daily schedule isn't quite what I had in mind but if you deem it necessary for the explanation as to what the great, debonair Draco Malfoy extraordinaire is doing in Muggle London, then so be it."

An involuntary chuckle escaped Draco's lips, "I must say your comebacks have matured with age, Granger. I doubt the younger version of yourself would have let such a comment slide without responding with one or another insult."

Hermione simply smiled. "And you are still as displeasing as ever. Now, back to my question; why are you here?"

Draco closed the book that had yet to leave his lap and placed it on the table with such care that Hermione couldn't stop her eyebrows from touching her hairline. The blond man in front of her seemed to have softened up with age. She was startled out of her reverie when he spoke.

"It would seem that I have found the magical world lacking of certain items, something that I seem to be able to find here."

"Oh, do tell. What does the great Draco Malfoy desire that the magical world is incapable of providing him?"

Draco seemed to ponder on his answer. After all, this wasn't a simple conversation between two friends catching up. Why did she want to know the reasoning behind him coming to this place? As Draco continued to think of how to phrase his answer, Hermione let out another giggle and promptly covered her mouth with her hand.

"Are you actually thinking about what to say? Afraid I might go back to work and publish your deep, dark secret in the Daily Prophet? Maybe you haven't changed as much as I previously thought…" Hermione noted the wrinkles forming on the sides of her companion's eyes, and the smile that graced his face. He was quite as handsome as ever, but it was more noticeable now without a smirk, scowl or snare covering his features.

"Now that you mention it, yes I am utterly terrified of you publishing this insanely ridiculous part of my life that I have kept secret for years." They both laughed until Hermione noticed Draco's eyes continuously darting towards her right cheek. She subconsciously raised her hand to it and asked, "What?"

"Well, if I were a gentleman I could tell you that you have a smudge of cream on the side of your face, but since we've established I'm still as much of a bastard as I used to be, I won't say anything."

Hermione reddened and wiped away the cream. "Thank you."

Draco smiled and his gazed dropped to what his companion was holding. "Pride and Prejudice? How… predictable."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on Granger! You know as well as anyone that you spent most of your Hogwarts days in the library reading some type of romance novel. In fact, you seemed to have your nose in this particular novel," he took hold of her copy of Pride and Prejudice, "about half of the time."

She hid her face behind her hands in embarrassment until, "Wait. How could you possibly know that?"

His smile froze and Draco looked at Hermione with a questioning gaze, "What do you mean?"

"How did you know I liked to read Pride and Prejudice at Hogwarts?"

Draco's eyes flickered from left to right and he combed a hand through his hair. Hermione noticed his movements and wondered why he was acting this way. Then it hit her, he was nervous. Hermione had to stop the smile that would have covered her face; she had never seen him like this before! And he was stalling, which meant something in his answered could potentially embarrass him.

Hermione couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up and covered her mouth with her hand. Draco's eyes shot up and met hers and she noticed his cheeks reddening slightly. Draco knew how potentially humiliating this situation could be and looked for a way out. Luckily, the waiter came by to ask them whether or not they wanted refills of their now empty beverages. Both declined the offer and he left.

After a long and awkward moment of silence, Hermione rose suddenly, which startled her tablemate. He watched her disappear in the midst of the bookshelves, only to return a moment later holding something to her chest. She sat back down, looked him in the eye and placed the book she had taken in front of him, on top of the café's copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Draco gazed down upon the book in front of him. It was a copy of Crime and Punishment, a book he had read countless times. It was, in fact, a book that had helped him to battle his moral dilemmas concerning his family during his last few years at Hogwarts. This brought on another thought; the hidden meaning of Hermione choosing this book.

"How did you know?" Draco looked at her again.

Hermione simply smiled. "You were an interesting character, to say the least. I was… intrigued. About you. I noticed you spent a lot of time in the library in our sixth and seventh year; most of our fights took place there. And like you, I also noticed that when you weren't studying Potions or Transfigurations, you seemed to have your nose stuck in this particular novel."

Draco laughed. "You were intrigued? Is that just another way of telling me you were developing a crush on yours truly?" He waggled his eyebrows provocatively.

Hermione giggled once more. "Who knows? Maybe I had a crush on you, maybe I still do, or maybe I was simply trying to figure out what kind of trouble you were trying to stir up back then."

Draco was about to answer when a phone started to ring, Hermione's phone to be precise. She apologized and took her phone out of her pocket, looked at the screen and told him she had to take it. He nodded.

"Hi Mum. How are you?" Hermione gave him a comical look and rolled her eyes, "Yes Mum, I'm fine. No, I'm not overworking myself. Right now? I'm having coffee. No, I'm not alone, I'm with a… a friend." She smiled at him. "Yes, okay Mum. Was there a particular reason for your call?... Okay. Look, could I call you back later? Thank you. Bye Mum. Yes, yes, I love you too. Give my love to Dad."

Hermione hung up. "Sorry about that."

"No problem. Not to pry but what did she want?"

"Nothing. She was just being her and making sure I was eating right and sleeping enough. Well, you know, being a typical mother."

"That's nice."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, "What is?"

"It's nice that you still get along so well with your parents."

Hermione just smiled. "I try to visit them every other week and I make sure to have lunch or dinner with them at least one Sunday a month. They're my Mum and Dad and I owe a great deal to them."

"Like I said, that's nice." Draco smiled at her one more time, looked over to the clock on the wall behind Hermione and stood up. He took his jacket from the back of his chair and put it on. "I have a meeting in about half an hour."

"Oh," Hermione tried and failed to hide her disappointment at his departure, "All right."

Draco noticed the smile dropping from his new-found friend's face, "Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?"

Hermione startled, "No. Why?"

Draco offered her his hand, "Then put on your coat and walk with me."

Hermione eyed the hand for a couple of seconds that seemed to last hours for Draco. This particular witch made him a little nervous, which in turn was unnerving because no woman had ever had that effect on him. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he felt the delicate skin of her hand in his. He dropped a few pounds on the table, on top of the café's novels and they left the establishment.

Still walking hand in hand, Hermione asked the man next to her the question that had been on her mind since the beginning of their conversation. "Why Crime and Punishment?"

Draco kept looking in front of him. He kept quiet and Hermione started to wonder whether he had actually heard her question. She was about to voice her thoughts when his voice sounded, "What do you think?"

"Honestly?" He gazed down at her and eventually nodded. "I always thought it was because of your father."

Draco was still looking at her, which Hermione took as a sign to continue her observation. "Your father was a man only interested in ridding this world of those he considered unworthy of magic, people like me. He would do anything to reach that goal, including murder. I think…" Draco watched Hermione struggle to find the words. "I think he taught you that murder was permissible, even necessary in the pursuit of that higher purpose; especially when it helped rid the world of worthless parasites, which is what he considered people like me to be."

Draco stopped walking and turned to the woman beside him. He whispered, "Granger. Hermione…"

Hermione held up her hand to stop him from talking, "I'm not finished." She swallowed and looked him straight in the eyes, "Your family is very wealthy and your father was all about using his money to perform good deeds to somehow counterbalance the crimes he committed. And in the society we used to live in, it seemed to work. You threw some gold coins in someone's direction and they would turn a blind eye to what you were doing…"

Hermione paused. "You, however, you are nothing like him. You are absolutely nothing like him."

Draco starred at her a little while longer and then proceeded walking, pulling her along with him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me I'm not like my father. It means a lot to me."

Hermione smiled, "It's the truth."

Draco gave her hand a squeeze. "Well, I thank you anyway." He stopped and gazed through the window of the clothing store to his right before continuing walking, "My father gave me my first copy of that book. It was the only Muggle object at the Manor. He told me to read it and I did. I read Crime and Punishment seventy-three times. And the more I read it, the less I agreed with what Rodion was saying. In the end, that novel helped me to figure out who I was."

"Well, I'm glad you figured it out in time."

Draco laughed, "So am I." He gazed down at their joined hands. "So… Why Pride and Prejudice?"

Hermione snorted and then covered her face with her free hand in embarrassment, "Because I'm a girl."

"Oh, bullocks! You are going to have to do better than that."

Hermione looked at his handsome face, "Fine. But I am just like any other girl in England; I like a good romance novel. And this particular novel is a tale of love and values, of improbable romance and the supposed thin line between love and hate. I guess it was one of the reasons why I took the job as an engagement announcement journalist at the Daily Prophet."

"I thought I saw your name under Pansy and Blaise's nuptial notice."

"Yes, I wrote that one about two months ago, I think. They're a beautiful couple."

"Yes, they are. And more importantly, they know it."

Hermione laughed, which made Draco smile again. "So Granger, explain something to me." Hermione gave him her undivided attention. "You write about love at work and you read about it in your spare time. You are surrounded by romance in your professional and in your personal lives, so why are you still single?"

This question made Hermione miss a step and tumble forwards. She shut her eyes and waited for the palms of her hands to come in contact with the gravel. It never happened because two strong arms circled around her waist and put her back on her feet. She turned so she was facing Draco, who still had his arms around her. Their eyes locked and Hermione's breath hitched, he was very close.

"I guess…" She struggled to find her breath, "I guess I still haven't found my Mr. Darcy."

Draco's elegant eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch, "Oh?" A strand of Hermione's hair flew in front of her eyes and Draco tucked it behind her ear. His hand then slowly caressed her cheek, "You haven't found a man like Mr. Darcy's? A wealthy man, one with great pride, who's spent a large part of his life insulting you in every possible way… A man who finds himself beginning to fall for your wit and frank approach to conversation… A man who finds you immensely attractive…"

Draco's hand lightly caressed Hermione's lips, which she parted, only to let out a short, shuddering, "Yes."

Draco smiled and leaned forward slightly, waiting to see whether she would back away or not. When he saw her lean forward as well, he took that as his cue and met her lips with his. Her arms found their way around his neck as his stayed on her hip and her cheek. She tilted her head and parted her lips to give him complete access to her mouth, and his tongue met hers. The kiss lasted a good long while, neither participant noticing the passerby's, both fully engrossed in each other.

- x -

"When you reread a classic, you do not see more in the book than you did before; you see more in you than was there before."

- Clifton Fadiman