Never Been Kissed Like That

NEVER BEEN KISSED LIKE THAT

Chapter nine

"Through the Looking Glass"

The rain outside was melting the snow piled on the corners and roofs of the crumpled buildings of Diagon Alley. Hermione sat at her desk, sucking on her quill, lost in thought. She was considering the many ways she could get an appointment with Fudge. The Minister was playing fishy again, offering excuse after excuse to delay the inevitable.

She was very aware of the aversion Cornelius Fudge had felt for her ever since she had called him a dim-witted, obsolete dictator three years ago in the middle of a Press Conference. Unsurprisingly, that was the end of the affair for the Ministry and the WMCA. But the majority of public opinion since the fall of the Dark Lord and his standards had shifted towards beliefs of unity among all the magical creatures. This was the perfect moment to change the governing, restrictive rules.

Of course, not all the creatures were regarded under the same measure, and there were still some prejudices, but the right path was not always the easy one. Hermione and her colleagues had managed to unite, under the wings of the WMCA, the bulk of those fighting for common rights. She was perfectly aware that their strength resided in their coalition. Fudge and his constant delays were threatening this union. If only she could...

The fluttering of an owl outside the window shook Hermione from her musings. She let the bird in, which was soaking wet.

"There, there." She took Foxy to her cage and placed it by the stove for her to get dry. Through an internal collection, they had managed to buy a second-hand heater. The Goblins had refused to put up any money for it, reasoning that they rarely felt cold. The mean, gold-greedy goblins. Centaurs presented some furs and two freshly hunted rabbits from the forest, while Dobby and Winky produced two pairs of woollen socks. Lupin was left out of the collection because he was not available while experiencing PMS (Pre-Moon Syndrome). All this, together with the wizard and witches' money, was enough to pay for the rusty-looking stove that seemed as if it was likely to collapse at any moment.

Hermione took the parchment and unfolded it; luckily, the sender had had the great idea to place a water-repelling spell on it.

Hiya Herms,

I hope you haven't forgotten what you promised last week, have you? I'm really looking forward to the cineman-thing, you know.

Harry's on duty tonight, so it'll be a girl's night. Meet me at the Watercolours at 6.00, and don't be late!

Love,

Ginny

One of these days, Ginny will manage to spell something Muggle correctly. Cineman? She was her father's child for sure. Hermione had promised the youngest Weasley girl that she would take her to the movies, and the girl was quite in raptures for the event.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 5.10 pm. She had almost one hour left and no more work to do. She took her wand and turned on the magical radio, tuning for her favourite programme, The Wicked Hour. It was a mixture of wizard and Muggle music conducted by a sexy-voiced Latino man called Alfonso Charming.

"Now an all-time hit for the bad boys of the block, looking for the 'Little Green Bag'. For The Wicked Hour... Mr. George Baker..." The voice from the radio purred.

Loretta crossed the room to put some folders in the archive, her hips gently moving to the beat of the song. She flashed Hermione a wink and started humming the melody.

Hermione was laughing at her friend's terrible singing voice when the front door opened, and he walked in. It was like in those movies, when everything is played in slow motion, or so it was in Hermione's head. He came in all dressed in black, his cloak billowing behind him, the fresh scent of wet earth following him. The song fitted him so well, his sexy bad boy smirk playing on his lips. Needless to say, Hermione quit smiling and tried to look as unimpressed as she could, failing miserably.

Damn, Hermione, you don't like him, you don't like him, she repeated her mantra. What's more, he definitely doesn't like you, so control yourself, she thought. But that was easier to say than to do when Draco Malfoy stood in front of her with his silvery hair hanging sleek from the wet raindrops, his eyes the colour of the stormy clouds outside.

"Hello, Granger," he said in his usual drawl. During the weekend, he had sought for the resolution to continue with his plan. He was not letting the apparent weakness that overcame him whenever he was near the bushy-haired know-it-all overcome him.

"A certain respectable witch asked me to give you this as a 'warm-up' for future activities. Don't ask me; I'm just the messenger." He slid a yellow envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Loretta stood in the background, still swinging to the music. "Looking upstairs... Looking behind..." she sang. She turned and looked at Malfoy's behind, giving him an approving nod. Then she mimicked a cat trying to scratch his back, and Hermione managed to disguise her laughter as a fit of coughing.

She reached for the envelope that had Narcissa Malfoy's elegant signature written on top.

"That's working fast. Thanks for bringing it, Malfoy." When she opened it, she almost fell from her chair in shock, a loud gasp escaping her mouth. It was the first time in her life she'd seen so many zeros attached to a number in the form of a bank cheque. She looked at Malfoy disbelievingly, but he just shrugged.

"Uhm, Loretta, can you take this to Stephen and tell him to buy a new stove?" She handed the cheque to the black witch. "A decent one," she added, with a huge grin spread across her face.

Loretta took the parchment unconcernedly and left for the second floor. From the corridor came her voice "Holy Merlin!"

Hermione chortled merrily and turned to the young Auror. He had again that cloud furrowing his brow, as if he was deciding on something important. he seemed so far away from the carefree, relaxed man she had observed skating on the lake. Sometimes she felt as if he were two different people.

Malfoy looked at Hermione intently. He needed to learn when her house was free for him to start his search, so it was time for a little chat.

"I was going to have a coffee; would you like to come?" He flashed his best smile and saw her cheeks colour slightly. She looked really pretty when she did that. The alarm in his head started screaming 'danger;' he had to exile such thoughts from his mind.

"Uh, I'm meeting someone at the Watercolours at six. But I guess I've got time for a quick coffee."

He nodded and headed to the exit. Why did it have to bother him if she was going on a date? She was perfectly free to do as she pleased. But wasn't she supposed to be Potter's girl? Was she cheating on him while he was on night duty? And why the hell did he care? Draco kicked himself mentally and walked silently by Hermione's side. They turned on the bend to Linseed Alley, entered the café, sat at the bar and gave their drink orders to Molly.

"Hey, would you like some coffee with your sugar?" Hermione offered while Draco dispensed the sixth spoonful of sugar into his coffee.

"Granger, stuff your mouth with chocolate cake; you know you're dying for it." She stuck her tongue out at him and turned to take a sip from her cup, and he chuckled at how easy it was to tease her.

"So, you're going on a date tonight?" He tossed the question casually, peering at the coffee menu he already knew by heart.

"Uh, oh. Well... sort of." She was shocked by Malfoy's sudden interest for her personal life.

"I'm just going to the cinema with Ginny Weasley. A Muggle thing." Not that he cared a bit, but she somehow needed to make clear she was not going out with a man.

"Ginny Weasley?" He turned to face her; the corners of her mouth began to turn upwards. He smiled back; why did he feel so relieved? He now knew he had the coast clear to start his search. But it wasn't that. Again, the tingling sensation spread through his body, and he couldn't help but notice how her eyes were the same colour of the chocolate cake she always longed. Sweet and warm chocolate eyes.

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks as his intense gaze bored holes in her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, she had the mad feeling that Draco Malfoy cared.

"You're already here! Good." A freckled face appeared in front of her.

Hermione greeted Ginny, who took a seat next to her and began rambling about her horrible day at work. She didn't notice the blonde man seated next to her, so Draco stood up and put on his coat. He had all the information he needed; he needed to hurry to investigate Hermione's place while she was at the movies with the Weasley girl.

"Well, I've got plenty of things to do. Granger, Weasley." He stood up and began heading for the door.

Ginny did an exaggerated double-take when she recognised him. "Malfoy?"

"He was accompanying me while I waited for you to come. We were having a coffee," Hermione said timidly, while her friend surveyed Malfoy through narrowed eyes.

"As I said, I'm quite busy, so I better get going. Goodbye."

"Malfoy, wait. I'd like to ask you for a favour." Ginny called after him. He turned round and looked at the redhead with an arched brow. What could the Weaselette possibly want from him? he thought.

"You are working in the same Auror department as Harry," she said.

Of all the things he could have expected the redhead to say, that was not one of them. "As much as I try to forget it, yes, I do."

"There's this concert of the Weird Sisters on the 14^th, you know, Valentine's day." Draco could not figure where all this was leading but kept listening curiously.

"Since Harry's on duty that very same night... " Ginny continued. "He would never ask you for a this, considering you hate each other." No fresh news about that.

"So?" Draco asked.

"I was wondering if you could change shifts with him so he can go with me to the concert," she said tentatively.

Something then clicked in Draco's mind. Hermione was not Potter's girl; it was Weasley. But Potter had suggested he was dating Granger, hadn't he? He had been taunting Draco. The four-eyed tricky bastard, Malfoy thought.

"I'll see what I can do," he smirked and left for the exit, taking a mental note to make sure Potter was on duty on the 14^th. Now it was time for treasure hunting.

"Good Gods!" Ginny slumped on her high chair. "I hate to say it, and Harry would kill me if he ever knew, but Draco Malfoy is hot!" She took a paper napkin and began fanning herself.

"Yeah, I guess so," Hermione said absently.

"You guess so? Has overworking yourself finally melted your brains?" Ginny snorted. Hermione sat silently, making small swirls of coffee with the spoon.

"What's up, Hermione?" The redhead adopted a concerned tone, since it was pretty clear there was something worrying her friend.

"I have a problem. One big, blonde problem."

*****

Draco had looked in the whole dining room; every corner and cupboard in the kitchen; in, out and about the bathroom.

Nothing under her bed; he had looked twice. He sat on it and opened the first drawer on her night table, a light chuckle escaping his lips. Trust Hermione Granger to have a copy of Hogwarts, A History for light night reading. In their school days, he had seen her many times hidden behind the enormous book in the library; she must know it by heart by now. He opened the second drawer; an old hand mirror with a carved wooden frame and a comb, together with some sugarfree candy wraps.

Draco leaned onto the bed, staring at the mauve covers of the four-poster, unmistakably a reminder of Hogwarts dormitories. He chewed on his lip, recollecting all the possible places he could have missed in which Granger could have hidden the agreement with the goblins.

No, it must be concealed under a spell, but which one? He had tried Finite Incantatum, Accio agreement, Revelarus... She was a clever witch; this could take him months to discover. Draco fingered the Perpetrus stone he had brought to counteract the petrifying spell cast on the flat's door, lost in thought. There was a delicate scent of jasmine floating in the whole bedroom. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; it smelled just like her. He wondered if her thick chestnut curls were impregnated with the same soft aroma.

Crookshanks leaped onto the bed, rubbing lazily along Draco's form and purring softly. When Draco had entered the apartment, he'd feared the cat would become aggressive with the intruder. After all, he had heard rumours back at Hogwarts of the viciousness of Granger's half-kneazle and how it usually jumped on anyone he disliked, claws outstretched. Why it had followed him through his search, meowing and rubbing his legs, he could not discern. Crookshanks seemed to have taken a liking to the young wizard.

"You're quite useless as a guardian cat, you know?" Draco scratched the ginger feline on the back of its ears.

Suddenly, he heard the noise of a key entering the flat's door. He quickly got up from the bed and reached for his invisibility cloak, straightening the bed covers. Hermione and possibly Ginny had entered the penthouse.

"Shhh! We don't want them to know I'm here, ok?" Draco whispered to the cat. It turned round and left the bedroom with his bottlebrush tail held up, as if it had understood the instructions perfectly.

"Oh, would you stop laughing?" Hermione's voice came from the sitting room.

"Sorry, Herms. It could have happened to anyone, you know. I bet the driver in the car didn't notice," she giggled.

Draco heard steps approaching the bedroom. He was invisible to the eye, but he could be discovered if someone bumped onto him. Panicking, he turned to the window but remembered this was the seventh floor. Before he could turn round, he saw though the looking glass standing on the wall that Hermione was entering her bedroom. Draco closed his eyes and waited for the worst to come.

"Yeah, sure. I'm certain he did it on purpose. When that mad driver saw a poor girl standing on the curb to cross the street, a big dirty puddle at her feet, he just couldn't resist the temptation to accelerate and make the 'big kahuna.'"

Draco opened his eyes and peered at Hermione's reflection. She was soaked from head to toe, dirt splashed across her clothes. A smile started forming at the corners of his mouth but stopped mid-way when she took off her cloak. She proceeded to do the same with the mud-stained cashmere jumper.

Close your eyes; you're not supposed to see this, Draco thought. But his eyes, instead of closing, stayed widely opened as she fingered the first button of her blouse and tugged it open. Tum-tum, his heartbeat hammered in his chest.

"So, what do you intend to do with your problem?" Ginny's question came floating through the corridor. Second button done. Tum-tum, Draco could feel the drumming somewhere near his mouth at the sight of her creamy skin.

"I intend to do nothing. Besides, there's nothing I can really do." She unbuttoned the third and fourth, revealing a pink lace bra under her blouse. When she had finished with the last button, she turned to the drawer and took out a red t-shirt and a blue one, and a pair of jeans from the wardrobe.

Close your eyes. Close them right now! Draco's mind screamed. His heart was thumping so hard he feared Hermione could hear it. It's not as if this is the first time you've seen a woman undressing, he scolded himself, to no avail. His eyes were glued to the girl in the mirror, and he watched her as she removed the rest of her garments. Her body was like the dunes in the desert, curvaceous, warm, inviting. Draco balled his hands into fists and dug his nails into the palms, now sweating.

"You can let him know how you feel." Ginny appeared at the doorframe. "The red one; it suits you best."

"Oh, sure, that's so very easy." Hermione slid the red fabric over her head and proceeded to change into the jeans.

"You're seeing him almost on a daily basis. There must be plenty of opportunities."

"Yeah, let me see. Malfoy, will you pass me the sugar? By the way, would you mind kissing me senseless so I can finally get over this obsession with you? Wow, I guess that'll impress him," Hermione spat sarcastically. They were so engrossed with the dispute that none heard the slight gasp coming from the other end of the room.

"You're hopeless. What makes you think he doesn't feel the same?"

"Well, he doesn't. He left that point pretty clear," Hermione frowned. "And why are you so eager to match me with him? Didn't you swear the Weasley's eternal enmity vow to the Malfoys?"

"You're worse than Harry, you know that?" Ginny punched her playfully in the arm.

Hermione sighed heavily and put on a thick woollen jacket, following her friend. When she was at the bedroom's doorframe, she turned and looked round, only to find her reflection on the mirror in the wall. Still with her gaze on her image, she took a step towards the looking glass, brow furrowed, urged by an invisible force.

"Hermione! We'll be late for the cineman if you don't hurry up," Ginny protested.

"I'm coming." With one last glance towards the mirror, she exited the room.

"And it's cinema, Ginny." Those were the last words Draco could hear before the flat's door was finally closed.

He slowly slid to the floor, his back pressed to the wall. He took the invisibility cloak off him and discarded it in the corner. This is not happening, he thought as he slid a hand through his silky hair. "This is not happening to me, not now," he groaned.

"Why, why, why?" he said, banging the wall with his head each time.

Crookshanks entered the room again and sat in front of the man, front paws rigid. Its yellow eyes surveyed him curiously, not blinking once.

"She likes me," He said aloud, although it didn't make any more sense. The whole situation was ridiculous, for before him there was an imminent political career full of success and a marriage with a charming woman. And there he was, sitting on the floor of a two-room flat, thinking of Hermione Granger.

"What am I going to do?"

"Meow," was the only response from the room's other occupant, Crookshanks.

Draco grunted his agreement, then added, "I couldn't have said it better myself!"