Perfect Storm

Chapter 2

"Yes, Granger, me," Draco replied, dropping into the seat across from the bespectacled witch. "Nice to see you too."

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione greeted, curtly. A scowl briefly plagued her face, before she started shuffling through her parchments.

Draco smirked. It seemed as though Harry had only just broke the news to her that her braindead ex-husband would not be joining them today.

"When Ron backed out, Draco kindly switched from groomsman to best man," Harry explained, looking hopefully from Draco to Hermione. "I know you two have some unresolved history, but I was hoping you could put that aside and be civil with each other?"

Draco watched as Hermione's brow furrowed and her shoulders slumped. Placing the parchment back on the table, she sighed and conceded, "Of course I can. We won't let anything ruin your day, right Malfoy?" Hermione shot him a wary look.

"Wouldn't dream of it, mate," Draco agreed, smiling serenely at the surly woman in front of him.

"Forgot the pumpkin juice," Hermione muttered. She got up and strode swiftly to the refrigerator. Draco sneaked a peak as her back was turned and she bent for the pitcher. It looked as though time had been good to Granger. Her legs were long and cloaked in creamy white skin. He had never really seen her out of school robes and was finally able to appreciate that she had curves, in all the right places. Her firm and shapely arse was working all the right angles of her cut off shorts.

She came back to the table and started pouring out drinks as Ginny started talking about the schedule for the final month, leading up to the wedding. Draco tuned her out as he admired Hermione's cleavage peaking out from her shirt. Merlin bless the humid weather, for it left a few tantalizing beads of sweat trickling down her chest.

As she sat down, Draco was momentarily mesmerized by the way her glasses magnified her amber eyes. She hadn't worn glasses at Hogwarts, had she? He was pretty sure she hadn't. Her hair was significantly shorter, falling just to her chin. It seemed she had figured out a way to tame it also, as it framed her smooth cheek bones with soft curls.

"Still with us, Malfoy?" Hermione interjected, snapping Draco's attention back to her eyes.

"Of course," Draco answered, biting off the corner of his sandwich. Quickly chasing it with a sip of pumpkin juice, he continued, "I was just noticing that your hair is shorter than the last time I saw you."

"You mean the night we pulled your arse out of the fiend fire?" she quipped, with a sneer.

Draco's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. Harry cleared his throat and shot warning looks at his friends.

"Hermione, I know it's been a while since you've been around Draco, but can we please, PLEASE, not dwell on the past," Harry begged. "I'm not asking you to forgive him. I'm just asking you to respect the fact that he and I have come to terms with our history, and have gotten to be pretty good friends. You don't have to like him. Just....just maybe pretend that you do, for the sake of sanity," Harry sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione apologized, smiling sheepishly. "Malfoy, my apologies for that insensitive comment. We were just talking about the dinner that's planned for the eighteenth. It's a little over a week away. You're still able to make it?"

"That's the one at your parents' house?" Draco asked Ginny, reluctantly. She nodded and Draco groaned. "Yeah, I'm still in. Should be smashing," he added sarcastically.

Harry may have been able to forgive past grievances, but the Weasley family were much harder to sway. After several years of working in the ministry, Draco had come to an amicable relationship with Arthur and a professional one with Percy. And the two oldest brothers treated him with guarded niceness, on the rare occasion he's met them. George, Ron, and Molly though tended to treat Draco as nothing more than a mosquito- an annoying pest that would either fly away...or end up squashed.