Katya Viktor, it turned out, was the name of the Bulgarian girl Draco had gone out with after his release from Azkaban, star of the "DRACO MALFOY FINDS LOVE" article.

Katya Viktor was also the girl that Draco had been out with the night before. The Prophet had printed a photo of him kissing her, accompanied by a Skeeter piece lamenting the loss of the new wizarding power couple.

Hermione had stopped at the Daily Prophet main office before rushing to Cornerstone, grabbing up a paper and tucking it into her bag. Once she'd gotten the store open and ready – with only two minutes to spare – she pulled out the paper.

Nothing on the front page, but she flipped to the society and gossip section that Skeeter penned, and there was Draco, pushing the hair out of the Bulgarian's face, and leaning in to kiss her. The girl smiled against his lips.

Hermione frowned as the picture repeated itself. She'd caught Draco and Pansy Parkinson snogging in the hallways loads of times in 5th year, a few times in 6th. Sometimes she'd be too nervous to interrupt them, knowing that it would be two Slytherins against one Gryffindor. Sometimes she'd be just jealous enough to clear her throat. Pansy would glare at her and call her names, but Draco would turn from where he'd have Pansy pressed against a wall and catch his breath as he looked at her with icy eyes.

This picture didn't look like that. Draco pushed Katya's hair away from her eyes and leaned in slowly. It was less... hurried.

Did that mean that Draco wanted her less? Or that he liked her more?

Hermione glanced through the rest of the article, grimacing at her own name splashed throughout. Katya was a model in Bulgaria and her father was a professor at Durmstrang. She was half-blood, surprisingly. The last line:

And poor Hermione Granger. How is she taking the news?

"Not great." Hermione chuckled to herself as the first customers entered. She threw the paper in the rubbish bin.

~*~

After a very long day of pitying looks and a series of "Such a shame," it was finally quarter 'til six. Hermione leaned against the counter as the last customers bid her a good night, and enjoyed the peace for ten seconds until the door opened again.

Draco walked in. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you want?"

He lifted a brow at her as he hopped up the stairs. "A book? Do you sell those here?"

She checked her timepiece. "We close in fourteen minutes. You had to come at the very end of the day?"

"Well, I didn't want any onlookers for our torrid love affair, Granger." He leaned against the counter and she turned to a stack of books so he wouldn't see her blush.

"Be quick. I still need to file all of these."

"It's on reserve."

She stopped and looked to the reserve shelf, just now noticing a bag there. She pulled it and saw another girly-fiction title. She raised her brow at him and he raised his in return. She started entering it on the ledger as he watched her.

"A reporter asked me today if you let me down easy," she said. She glanced at him. "I assume you were seen with one of your girls last night?"

"Yes, Katya. I have six more to go."

She looked up at him.

"One for every day of the week, right?" he said. She scowled at him for throwing her words back at her. "Which reminds me," he drawled, "do you have five more copies of this?" He tapped the girly book she was writing the title of.

She scoffed at him while she finished the entry. "You know Draco, just because you give them books doesn't mean they'll learn to read."

She looked up at him when he didn't respond, and found him watching her. His eyes flashed at her.

"Granger," he said. "If you miss being pictured in the papers with me, I think my Wednesday girl might be a bit of a dud. The day's all yours."

His grey eyes were searching her, and she frowned at him. "I'll have to check my calendar and get back to you." She held the bag out to him.

"Gift wrap?" So innocent with his brows raised and eyes wide.

She snatched up a gift bag and two pieces of tissue paper, slammed them on the counter and said, "Do it yourself." She grabbed the pile of books to file and headed to the stacks to her right without another glance at him.

Once behind the stacks she let out a silent sigh. Her heart was beating angrily against her chest and her brain worked to figure out what right she had to be so riled up.

After shoving a few books into place, she realized she hadn't heard the door open. She poked her head around the stacks and saw Draco Malfoy behind the counter, pulling at a roll of gift wrapping paper.

"Malfoy!" She hurried to the desk and set the books down again, rushing around the counter and pushing at him. "You can't be back here!"

"You said 'do it yourself!'" he said, smirking.

"Ugh. Give me that!" She grabbed the roll of wrapping paper and moved to the other side of him to lay it out. "You don't want a gift bag?" she whined.

"Well, Katya received that beautifully wrapped gift that you prepared last week, so I can't go giving the rest of them second rate wrap-jobs. Best to be equal with things like this."

"You're incorrigible." She tugged at the wrapping paper, pulled the book out of the shopping bag, and placed it on the counter. Draco still had not moved from his place behind the counter, so now he stood next to her as she tore the tape and pressed it against the fold.

"How's your dragon project going?"

She looked up at him. He was watching her. Again, she had the sneaking feeling that somehow, he was the dragon.

"Er... fine." She folded the other side of the book. "I submitted my initial proposal yesterday, so Mathilda will review it and make the necessary adjustments before submitting it to Kingsley – er, Minister Shacklebolt."

"And have you sat down with the Minister, to discuss it?"

She looked up at him, and found that he was less than a foot from her, his entire body facing her, leaning against the counter.

"Um, no?" She frowned at him. "That's what the proposal is for."

He raised a brow at her. "You are close, personal friends with the Minister of Magic, having fought a war with him. If you can't take the man to tea – or coffee – to discuss a passion project, then what good is that friendship?"

She grabbed up the ribbon. "How very Slytherin of you. A friendship cannot be just a friendship. You have to gain something from it, is that right, Malfoy?"

"And how very Gryffindor of you," he said lowly. He stepped into her. "Bravely beginning something without any idea of how to get what you want."

Her breath caught in her throat. She looked into his eyes and felt he was no longer talking about dragons. Her mind raced and she felt the side counter press against her right hip. He had her pinned again.

"All good down here?" Morty's voice and the squeak of the door. "Mr. Malfoy! What a pleasure again!"

The cool air returned as Draco stepped away from her and she watched his pink cheeks smile at Morty. She checked her timepiece as the two men chatted and saw it was now five past six. Wonderful. She turned her eyes on the pile of books she still needed to file back.

"Granger was finishing wrapping up a gift for me. I do believe I've kept her past normal hours, though. I apologize."

Hermione scoffed. Apologize. She felt Draco turn his eyes on her as she pulled her wand and pointed it at the Open sign, turning it to Closed.

"No problem at all, my boy." Morty grabbed up the stack of books.

"Oh, no, Morty. I can file those—" she tried.

"Nonsense. Finish with Mr. Malfoy here, and I'll get these started." Morty disappeared into the fiction section.

Draco had still not removed himself from behind the counter and now stared down at her. She frowned at him and turned back to the gift he planned to give to one of his girls. She cut the ribbon, pulled it around the book, twisted it up, and tied the ends. She leaned across him, ignoring the way her ribs brushed against his side, and snatched up the shopping bag. She dropped the book in and pushed it into his arms.

"Thank you for shopping at Cornerstone Books," she deadpanned. He raised a brow at her and she pushed past him, bodies touching again, and went to help Morty file the books.

~*~

The whole of next week had Hermione pretending not to check the society pages, but failing miserably. There were no other sightings of Draco out with other women, and she didn't know if that made her happy, or anxious. Was Katya the one if he wasn't dating the others anymore? She shook herself, and promised not to think of Draco again that week.

"Ginny." She slammed the door to their flat and Ginny looked up at her from the couch. "I'd like to date."

Ginny chewed her grilled cheese, swallowed, and said, "That's very kind, Hermione, but I'm seeing Harry right now. Maybe if we break up?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and tossed her bag on the chair. "I think it's time for me to date."

"Really?" Ginny's wide eyes roved over her face.

"Yes." Hermione stared at her. Ginny stared back. Hermione said, "So, what do I do now?"

Ginny giggled. "Well, I can compile a list for you, of blokes who are single and might interest you."

"Good. Yes." Hermione placed her hands on her hips.

"But generally, you just ask them if they're interested in grabbing a drink, or a cup of tea."

"I ask them?"

"Yes, Hermione. It's almost the 21st century, you know," Ginny said. Hermione huffed. "Now, shall I only list the blonde, former Death Eater assholes for you? Or have your interests expanded?"

"No, no." Hermione scowled at her. "I have resolved myself not to think about Draco Malfoy any longer. It's simply a waste of time."

Ginny gave her a small grin. "Good for you."

Of course, that was Monday. And by Tuesday, Harry had invited her to lunch in the café – "they're now serving almond croissants, Hermione!"– and they had run into Draco there. Harry, as polite and clueless as expected, invited him to sit with them. She mainly sipped her coffee while listening to the two of them discuss the Quidditch scrimmage this coming weekend. It was Halloween on Sunday, she remembered, and she knew Harry was filling the day to keep his mind off of the anniversaries it represented.

"You'll be at the match, right?"

Hermione stirred her coffee, plucking pieces of her croissant. She waited for a voice, and when no answer came, she looked up and found both boys staring at her.

"What? I'm sorry. Me?" Her cheeks burned.

"Yeah," Harry said. "You'll come to the match on Halloween? I think all the departments are coming out, whether or not their team is playing."

"I—I mean, I could, yes," she stammered. "I'll have work at ten, but –"

"Cornerstone is open on Halloween?" Draco said.

She looked at him and blinked. "Oh, I guess... I guess not."

"Great!" Harry smiled. "We'll slaughter Magical Transportation, and then we'll all go for a drink!"

"Great." Hermione was less than thrilled.

~*~

The rest of the week flew by. Ginny wasted no time in connecting her with Rolf Scamander, someone she had a true fascination with, but ultimately no chemistry. They had a wonderful three-hour chat over drinks about everything from her dragon project to the steady extinction of the Golden Snidgets, but when the date was over, Hermione realized they had not gotten to know each other at all.

Rita Skeeter disagreed. Her society pages on Friday featured a picture of their animated discussion of his grandfather's work with Grindylows, stating that they had really "hit it off," and that she seemed to be recovering from the sting of Draco Malfoy's rejection.

Mathilda had a chance to meet with her on Friday regarding her Gringotts proposal, and unfortunately a lot of her critiques reflected exactly what Malfoy had told her regarding the goblins not wanting to cooperate.

"From what I understand about the goblins," Mathilda said, tossing her hair up into a bun and missing several locks in the process, "they really would prefer to continue doing things exactly as they've always done. The next dragon has been selected already and is being transported to the Wales reserve for... training." Mathilda grimaced.

"What?" Hermione jumped. "They are already blinding and torturing another dragon?"

"Well, it has been a year and half, Hermione." She sighed. "They have a business to run."

"What about my thoughts on Auror protection of the lower vaults, or giving house elves new opportunities to work at Gringotts, retrieving items from vaults only they can enter?"

"The goblins won't want wizards involved in their security, and you know better than anyone that house elves can be... swayed, when they are loyal to someone outside." Mathilda closed the folder, and Hermione felt the flap like the life being cut off from the project. "I'm sorry, Hermione. The goblins want their beast."

That put Hermione in a foul mood for the rest of the day. Narcissa and she had been penning notes back and forth for the past week, and not even the arrival of the slanted cursive note, inviting her to lunch next week, could cheer her. She wrote back, saying she'd love to meet, and that Monday at noon was perfect for her.

By the time 5:30PM on Saturday rolled around, Hermione was ready for a day off. Especially when Draco walked into Cornerstone whistling.

She scowled at him. "Draco, just because Skeeter writes that you visit Cornerstone every Saturday, doesn't mean that you have to."

She turned and grabbed his reserved bag, slamming it on the counter harder than she anticipated. She glanced up at him and he shot her a wary look.

"Why, you look positively feral today, Granger. Something new with your hair?"

She glared. "Will you be needing this gift wrapped, sir?"

"Naturally," he said. She drew up the ledger and began flipping pages. It had been tucked away for hours due to the slowness of the day before the holiday. "Your meeting with Mathilda didn't go as planned, eh?"

Her hands paused and she looked up at him. "How did you know?"

"I hear things." He raised a brow at her. She frowned, wondering if Mathilda was talking about her with others. Robards, maybe?

"She thinks the goblins won't compromise, that they want a beast," she said. She pulled out the book and began writing the title.

"That's too bad. You'll think of something else."

She was about to respond but then saw the title. It was a children's book, similar to The Tales of Beedle the Bard, but less respected.

She glanced up at him. "Could your girl not handle the fiction?" He smirked at her. She looked down at the book, pondering. "We could also wrap up a dictionary for her?" She turned innocent eyes on him and he leaned his elbows down on the counter.

"No, no. If she learned bigger words, then we'd have to communicate more."

"Of course." Hermione shook her head and tugged at the roll of wrapping paper, pulling scissors to cut it for the small size of the book. "If she likes this one, Draco, there is another I'd recommend. A is for Acid Pops, B is for Broom, C is for Centaurs. It's a best seller for that reading level."

She laid the book on the paper and began folding in the sides.

"You've started calling me Draco," he drawled, and her hands stilled. Was it a question?

She looked up at him, finding his eyes on her, and quickly looked back down. She pushed a few stray curls back and said, "Well, I guess... your mother calls you Draco, so..."

"Yeah, I can't get her to stop doing that," he quipped.

She fought the smile that wanted to split her lips, and kept her eyes on the wrapping paper. His thumb and index finger were playing with the Slytherin ring on his left thumb, inches from where she was folding the small book into the orange and black paper. Halloween themed. She could feel his eyes on her fingers, making her so self-conscious that she slipped on the fold a few times and needed to try again. She reached for the tape.

"I've not had the opportunity to meet Rolf Scamander, but I hear he's a fascinating bloke."

The tape wrapped around Hermione's fingers, winding and becoming useless. She looked up at him and his eyes were on her face.

"I... Yes, I mean, I hadn't met him before either," she stammered and looked down. "He's very open to discussing his grandfather's legacy, so I found him quite... er, quite fascinating."

She ripped the crumbled tape from her fingers and realized for the first time that she could be using spells for all this gift wrapping. It was just second nature to her to do it the Muggle way. Perhaps that was why Draco watched her hands whenever she wrapped.

Only now he was watching her face. Watching her face and talking about the bloke she'd been out with two days ago. She was unsure if she should elaborate on the date with Rolf. She could tell him the truth – that they were going to get together again, as friends – or she could embellish the date a bit. Maybe saying nothing was better?

She heard the front door open, and decided to say nothing and continue wrapping quickly, hoping she could usher Draco out and hurry along whoever it was who decided to come to Cornerstone at twenty minutes until closing. Draco, of course, seemed to be in no rush, still leaning on the counter comfortably.

"Good evening," Hermione said, and leaned around Draco's form to welcome the newcomer. Her face paled when she saw Ron Weasley standing in the doorway, looking back and forth between her and the Slytherin. "Ron. Hi." She smiled tightly.

She felt Draco's eyes flip up to her, before he straightened and turned to glance at Ron behind him. Hermione watched as the two of them stared at each other with hard eyes.

"Well, what do you know," Draco murmured to her as he turned back around. "They do get the paper in Ireland."

Her eyes flickered to Draco and saw a satisfied smirk. She looked back at Ron and he was glaring at Draco's back.

If this were a normal situation, which it was clearly not, she would give Ron a hug. She would actually run into her best friend's arms – her best friend that she had not seen in a month. But seeing as her fingers were currently holding the fold on the gift Draco Malfoy was planning to give to one of his seven girlfriends, she was stuck behind the counter. She made the decision to release the fold, and walk – not run – around the desk, passing Draco, and hug Ron as he stepped up to the main landing.

"Happy Halloween," he said stiffly into her ear.

"H-Happy Halloween, yes." She pulled away after a rather unimpressive hug, intending to walk back to the wrapping paper and get Draco Malfoy out of her shop as soon as humanly possible. But Ron held onto her hips, holding her to him. She let her arms hang limp, but then decided to place them on his elbows. "What—what are you doing here?"

She almost winced at her choice of words, but then saw that Ron's attention was directed elsewhere. She didn't dare look at Draco while Ron's hands were firm on her hips.

"I told you I'd be back around Halloween." Ron looked down at her, and for the first time he smiled his warm smile, spreading to his eyes.

But it was too intimate. His hands on her hips, standing barely a foot apart, smiling down at her, with Draco still in her peripheral sight. She cast Ron a small smile and stepped backwards, out of his grasp, and journeyed back around the counter.

"How long are you here for?" It was odd, having a conversation without Draco in it when he was standing in between them, but the two of them hadn't verbally acknowledged each other yet.

"Just until tomorrow night."

Hermione nodded and retraced the fold in the wrapping paper with shaking fingers. With nothing else to do, Ron looked at Draco.

"Malfoy." A greeting of sorts.

"Weasley," Draco drawled. She noticed that Draco was leaning casually on the counter again. "Excellent game last week."

Hermione looked between the two of them. From what she remembered, Ireland had lost last weekend. From the way Ron was scowling at Draco, it seemed she remembered correctly.

She tried to change the subject. "So, you'll be here tomorrow morning for the Quidditch scrimmage? You can sit with me and Katie Bell." Her voice was higher than normal.

"No, actually," Ron said. Hermione looked up at him, and found him looking at Draco. "I just finished speaking with Harry and Mr. Acorn. Seems like Magical Transport's Keeper has fallen ill today, and instead of canceling the event all together, Acorn's asked me to step in tomorrow."

Hermione looked back and forth between the two men. Draco's smirk was just turning up the corners of his mouth, and Ron's brows raised in challenge. She suddenly felt quite ill, herself. Perhaps she should faint. Then all of this would stop.

"Oh, wonderful," she said, when no one responded.

"Yes, wonderful," Draco said. "It's so nice that they'll let in just anybody... when there's a need like that."

Ron frowned at him. "Yes, evidently," he directed at Draco.

Hermione grabbed up the black ribbon to tie around Draco's gift. It was best to separate these two, she realized. That caught Ron's eye and he stepped up to the counter, standing next to Draco.

"Buying a Halloween gift for someone?"

Hermione took a breath and begged her fingers to cooperate as they spun around the small wrapped book.

"Yes," Draco said. "Someone special to me."

Hermione let out a laugh. She looked up and both men were looking at her. She tightened the ribbon as her cheeks reddened. She grabbed up a bag and tossed the wrapped gift inside and held it out to Draco.

"Here. Thank you." Please leave.

"Oh, thank you, Granger." He smiled at her with his teeth, and she wished it wasn't for show. He turned to Ron and said, "I'll see you on the field tomorrow, Weasley."

"Looking forward to it, Malfoy."

Draco nodded at her once, then leaned across Ron, grabbing up a mint from the dish. Hermione watched as Ron's eyes rested on those mints for a second too long.

"'Til tomorrow." And Malfoy walked out, quite proud of himself.

Ron looked up from the mints to her.

She smiled at him and asked him about his week in Prague.

~*~

Later that evening, after Hermione had successfully navigated any further conversation away from Draco Malfoy, Hermione sat in her living room with Ginny, Ron, and Harry, drinking wine and laughing. The three of them were discussing the scrimmage tomorrow, so Hermione sipped at her wine slowly and listened, hoping Harry and Ginny would not bring up Draco.

A tap on their window, and Ginny stood to open the glass for a large eagle owl that Hermione immediately recognized. Her heart skipped as it landed in front of her and dropped off a black and orange package, and turned and flew out.

"Hermione, what's that?" Ginny bounced over to her.

The hastily tied black ribbon shined, and Hermione stared at it. What game was he playing? She plucked the small card from the top of the gift.

To my Saturday girl

If you need a dictionary for this, the harpy at Cornerstone Books said she'd gladly provide it.

D.M.

p.s. Have a second look at page 23.

Hermione reread the note four times. Ginny read it over her shoulder and looked up at her. It was silent in the room, and Hermione looked up to see Harry looking curiously at her, and Ron scowling.

This was about Ron. It had to be. That son of a bitch.

"What does that mean?" Ginny whispered, taking the card.

"It's a game, that's all." Hermione stood from the couch and tugged at the bow, ripped at the Halloween wrapping paper she had wrapped herself, and found the children's book Draco Malfoy had bought from her earlier today. She didn't know why she hoped it was something different, seeing as she recognized her wrapping job, but she growled and went to the kitchen to throw the wrapping and bow in the trash.

She threw the book on the counter and glared at it.

Buying a Halloween gift for someone?

Yes, someone special to me.

He knew Ron would be with her when she received this. What in Merlin's name was his problem!

She flipped to page 23. It was a children's fable. She threw up her hands, exasperated.

Except this was on reserve, before she even got to work today. She glanced at the book. He had picked this out before he'd known Ron was coming into town.

She flipped a few pages, looked at the inside cover, shook the pages for any notes. She settled back on page 23. The Chimaera. She'd read this story before, or at least variations of it. A Chimaera lived alone in the woods, guarding a sparkling fountain that could cure all injuries. A wizard wants to take his sick father to the fountain, but first must befriend a goblin to help him. It was a wonderful little allegory for human and goblin interactions, so if he was trying to make a point about her bullheadedness regarding the goblins, fine. She'd take that. But why go through all of this just to poke at her.

Her eyes landed on a passage. The passage that explained that Chimaeras are naturally repelled by goblins, and only with the goblin by his side could the wizard pass the Chimaera.

Her heart stopped. A gasp tore its way from her throat.

"What!" Ginny appeared in the doorway. "What is it?"

Hermione looked at her with shining eyes.

"I have to go to the library!"