"And capitalized on it," he finished.

She nodded. Taking a deep breath and remembering Ginny — remembering how she needed her — Hermione asked the question that had brought her down here to begin with.

"Have dinner with me tonight," she said. "Just the two of us."

His eyes jumped to her face. He was still, except for the muscle in his jaw.

"Have…"

"Dinner." She nodded. "I want to discuss what a successful evening in Edinburgh looks like to you. What it would take on my part to convince your friends and the other Death Eaters of the kind of relationship we are supposed to have."

He scratched his neck, and she saw pinpricks of pink under his collar. "I'm out this evening."

The response was swift, and it made Hermione's eyes narrow.

"Tomorrow then," she said. He shifted on his feet, and she cut off the excuse she knew was coming. "Or any day, really. My schedule is wide open."

He stared a hole into his desk as he responded, "Tomorrow."

"Wonderful. I'll arrange everything with the elves. Just the two of us."

He lifted a brow and, with a tinge of reluctance, said, "It's a date."

She felt her pulse pound and her cheeks heat. She mumbled something in the affirmative before disappearing from the doorway and racing up the stairs back to her room.

~*~

Remmy had glared at her when she entered the kitchens and asked for a private dinner to be served for herself and Draco at 8PM. The elf had radiated sarcasm as she asked, "Does Miss want candles on the table too?"

"Only food and wine will be necessary, thank you," Hermione had stammered, before tripping out of the room.

She had afternoon tea with Narcissa, and though she mentioned nothing, she did ask if Hermione wanted to join her for dinner that evening. Hermione had come up with a feeble excuse for taking dinner in her room, praying fervently that Narcissa would take her usual dinner on the veranda. Narcissa simply replied with "Certainly, dear," and took a delicate bite of her biscuit, smiling slyly into her teacup.

The word "date" stuck in her head like glue, flustering her as she tried to prepare for the evening. Hermione had to stop herself from changing out of her denims several times. When her hands had reached for the makeup drawer in her vanity, she busied them with tying her hair into a plait to rest on her shoulder instead, chastising herself for considering something as silly as dressing up for Draco Malfoy.

This wasn't "a date." This was preparation for another outing to Edinburgh. She needed to get back to Ginny, and he needed to ward off suspicion.

Frowning, she studied her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't lose her head about tonight, despite the feelings she hadn't yet managed to bury. She caught herself fixing her hair again, and rolled her eyes at her stupidity — Draco Malfoy would never take her on a date.