Chapter 2

This chapter gives a bit of background to the story and helps to understand more about Draco. :)

Bernard is a character of my own making and imagination. I hope everyone likes him! :)

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Disclaimer: These beautiful characters belong to the talented J.K. Rowling. I have only borrowed them! :)

Enjoy Chapter Two!

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Good Morning, Sir," Bernard greeted Draco cheerfully.

Draco frowned at the old man, "How many times have I told you not to call me Sir."

Shaking his head he settled into the front seat of the Muggle car and buckled himself in.

He sank into the comfort, the leather upholstery felt uncommonly luxurious.

The Bentley felt good.

Draco was happy with his choice of Muggle car, even though it was Bernard who talked him into buying it, he admitted grudgingly.

Well, the old man would be driving it, it only seemed right.

Initially, Draco wanted a flashier, sports car but the old man vetoed the idea stating the car needed to make a bold statement, he had reluctantly taken the advice but made a mental note to buy a Ferrari next.

The horsepower alone made his knees weak, it was a fucking sexy car.

Draco loved the feel of the steering wheel under his fingers.

Of course, it could not be remotely compared to the thrill of riding a broom but it had its own magical element to it.

The rev of the engine pounding inside his ears was oddly satisfying.

He passed his Muggle driving test on his first try, much to Bernard's surprise.

The old man mused, "Did you charm the instructor?"

Draco smirked, "In more ways than one."

It did help that the instructor was a pretty little redhead who was more than happy to stare at him, than his performance on the road.

Draco chuckled, at the memory.

Travelling via magic could be dull and tedious at times.

Besides, with the many Muggle businesses he had invested in, he could hardly apparate into buildings without raising a bunch of questions.

The car would ensure that he blend in and while they were at it, it might as well be classy and nothing short of prestigious, he was a Malfoy after all.

"You have been a better father to me than my biological one," Draco truthfully told the man driving.

Bernard had been serving the House of Malfoy for as long as Draco could remember.

Lucius Malfoy trusted the old man, which was rare by his standards since he trusted no one.

The wellbeing of his only son was handed to Bernard, and Draco saw the old man more often than his parents.

Initially, Draco had treated Bernard with contempt and loathing, taking out the frustration he felt for his parents out on the old man, but it had not deterred the kindly man.

He watched over the boy diligently, making sure no harm would befall him and over the years he had grown to love him.

They developed a close bond, and Draco trusted the wise older man with his life.

Bernard might have served the House of Malfoy, but he had little patience and tolerance for Lucius Malfoy, the man was a raging lunatic caught up in medieval ideologies and dangerous views of pureblood dominance.

He had helplessly watched the lunatic plague his family with hatred and pain while trying to mould his only son into a perfected version of himself.

In truth, Draco was a far more powerful and competent wizard than his father could ever hope to be.

In his ignorance and blind faith, Lucius had his only son branded with the Dark Mark and traded him to Voldemort to rectify his own failures.

It had been a dark time in Draco's young life, and Bernard had been forbidden from contacting him.

The fall of Voldemort and the ill health of Lucius paved the way for Draco to become the man he was today.

Two days after Draco's twenty-first birthday, Lucius succumbed to the many complications of torture he had suffered at the hands of Voldemort.

The young man had stood pale-faced and emotionless, holding onto his mother's hand while they lowered the coffin into the freshly dug space that would be his father's final resting place.

A small crowd of people had come to pay their respects and Draco had greeted them solemnly, he had not shed a tear.

Bernard continued in his low fatherly tone, "Yes, but I have served the family for many years and you're now the Head of Malfoy Manor."

Draco hated the reminder.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm aware, but that doesn't mean you have to call me sir."

Glancing at his watch, he swore "Fuck! The Muggle Prime Minister's office and FAST," Draco informed Bernard impatiently. The old man smirked and put the car into gear.

He was a skilled driver, he weaved through traffic effortlessly, even resorting to a few colourful Muggle swear words to get people to move out of the way.

Draco laughed heartily, watching the old man waving his arms about animatedly cussing the living fuck out of the drivers in front.

With moments to spare Draco was in front of the Muggle Ministry.

Running his long fingers through his hair, he adjusted his tie before getting out.

He strode towards the imposing building confidently, slipping on dark shades.

Women glanced his way appreciatively, some even smiled.

Hiding a smirk, he quickened his stride.

Back at Hogwarts, any girl was his for the taking and Houses did not matter. Things hadn't changed much; except he was more selective about his partners.

The dangerously handsome young man was six feet two with washboard abs, sculptured muscles, a toned fit body and unique blonde hair.

His looks alone brought women to their knees in more ways than one.

His footsteps echoed through the building, it was early, and a handful of employees walked about with files under their arms.

Draco flashed a smile at the receptionist, she looked him over admiringly before pressing a button, "Mr Malfoy is here."

She beamed, got to her feet, made a show of arranging her stocking and showed him the way in.

Taking a deep breath Draco knocked on the door, "Come in, Mr Malfoy," he heard the Muggle Prime Ministers deep voice from within.

Draco walked in with a bright smile and air of confidence.

His confidence weaned at once, he froze with his mouth open at the pair of long legs, red colour nail polish and black high heels.

He knew those legs, they had wrapped themselves around his waist more than once.

His breathing hitched as hungry eyes travelled upwards, taking in the smooth skin, and settling on the attractive woman who was seated comfortably next to the Prime Minister.

"Good Morning, Malfoy, you're looking well," she greeted him politely through her ruby red lips.

"It's been a while, Hermione, I didn't expect to see you today, this is a private meeting," Draco replied haughtily, trying to keep his past prejudices out of his voice and tone.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and smiled sweetly.

Damn that smile.

"I'm here on behalf of the Minister of Magic, you were informed via owl last week," Hermione retorted calmly.

She immensely enjoyed his discomfort.

To watch him squirm gave her great comfort.

Draco thought back, and vaguely remembered a letter of a sort, but it said Kingsley was attending not this woman.

Her presence was unsettling, he did not need a Ministry of Magic appointed fucking babysitter.

It was highly unlikely that she would leave, "Very well, Miss Granger, by all means, let's proceed," Draco hissed through clenched teeth, regaining his composure.

The meeting started, and they fell into a pattern discussing the crucial factors of the building project.

An hour passed.

She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs.

What the fuck was she doing? Draco thought, irritated that it was affecting him, he adjusted himself once again.

Pay no attention, Draco, he reminded himself harshly.

Draco was deep in conversation with the Muggle Prime Minister, Hermione watched him through lowered eyes, long eyelashes and slowly bit her lip.

He was the same Slytherin prat, but a damn good looking one.

The beige suit fit him in the right places and looked bloody expensive.

Probably tailored in Paris and shipped via unicorns, nothing but the best for the spoilt brat.

His smell was intoxicating, so overpowering and masculine, Hermione felt herself levitate towards it.

Before she could stop herself, she was staring openly at the man before her.

Draco had such impeccable taste, the white shirt pressed up against him, outlining his toned physique.

An image flashed across her mind of being under him, running her fingers along his back.

Dragging her nails down his Seeker perfect physique, moaning, pleading with him to make her come.

Shit! Snap out of it Hermione, get your head back in the meeting.

Too late! Fuck!

Draco caught her; he raised an eyebrow curiously studying her flushed face.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden but refused to back down.

Shrugging her shoulders, she mouthed, "What?" Before turning her attention to the Muggle Prime Minister.

They were reaching the end of the meeting and for once Draco was glad, he could not wait to get the hell out of the room, the air inside was suffocating him.

She was suffocating him.

Her womanly smell travelled up his nostrils and refused to fucking budge.

He wanted to get the fuck away from her.

"It is settled then, Mr Malfoy will go forward with the proposal and"... The Muggle Prime Minister turned to Hermione..." the Ministry of Magic has no objections?" he asked firmly.

Hermione adjusted her glasses, "None at all, we are happy with Malfoy's proposal." She turned and smiled at Draco.

They stood up, shook hands, and the deal was made.

Draco held the door open for Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" he muttered while keeping in step with her.

Hermione smirked, "Because, I love seeing you all flustered."

The bloody nerve of this woman!

Bernard was waiting for Draco as he exited the building with Hermione.

The old man leaned casually against the gleaming red car.

Hermione turned to Draco excitedly, "Is that Bernard?"

Draco rolled his eyes, Hermione hurriedly walked up to the old man.

"BERNARD," Hermione squeaked with delight, she put her arms around the old man and held him close, her warmth surrounding him whole.

"Oh, my dear, Miss Granger," he held her hands in his and looked her over.

Draco stood to the side watching their affectionate display.

"Absolutely gorgeous," Bernard gushed over Hermione.

She blushed and smiled sweetly.

Draco scoffed, "Steady on old man, she doesn't look that great," he interrupted with a snicker.

Hermione threw him a dirty look, "Some people never change, do they?" she told Bernard pointedly.

"Sadly, they do not," Bernard resorted sadly, glancing at Draco's amused face.

Giving Bernard a quick peck on the cheek, she said, "It was so good to see you," waving at the sweet old man, Hermione headed away from the building, ignoring the arrogant prat puffing on a cigarette.

Draco watched her go with interest, the way those hips moved, the way the blue blouse hugged her body emphasizing her breasts and slim waist, the pencil skirt shaped her hips and arse.

Hermione was exquisite and even more so now.

He felt an all too familiar tightening in his pants.

He let the cigarette drop to the ground and smashed it to the bits with the heel of his imported shoe.

It took Draco back to a time when they had shared the dorm back at Hogwarts as Head Boy and Head girl.

It had been fucking unreal.

Looking out the window of the moving car, he reminisced fondly.

The sweet laugh, the slow moans when she cried out his name. It was all too clear in his mind.

Seeing her awakened something deep within, a need he had suppressed and pushed further and further from his mind.

Draco stared at the back of Bernard's head; the old man was the only person who knew what happened between them.

Even their friends had no idea, it was too dangerous.

They had taken every measure possible, to make sure his father would never find out because had he known, Lucius would have killed them both and buried them in shallow graves.

It was a forbidden romance of pleasure, lust, mutual companionship and understanding.

Draco had been surprised that out of all the people in the world, the perfect balance he craved so ardently he found with Hermione Granger.

It had scared the living shit out of him.

They parted after Graduation, but her sexy little moans still brought a smile to his lips.

It lay in the unconscious part of his mind and it had laid dormant for years.

That was until he saw her today. Fuck.

Bernard coughed purposely, "Are we heading straight to the office?"

Draco snapped out of his daydream reluctantly, "Of course! That reminds me, did, Stacy get home okay?" he asked curiously.

Bernard snorted, "Miss Green had some rather colourful parting words, I do think she had hope of becoming the next Lady Malfoy."

Draco let out a hearty laugh and sighed.

They all wanted the ultimate price.