Ch 9
It was a typical, cloudy London morning. Agyness sat on a simple, creaking wooden chair, brushing out her long, chocolate brown hair as she examined herself in the old, cracked antique mirror of her mahogany dresser. She was reliving the afternoon before, how Hermione, Harry, and Ron had regaled to her their adventures in India, how they had snagged Macnair in the middle of a crowded, muggle-filled street square, and how Hermione had plans to return to Mumbai to free some “oppressed” house elves. And, how they all had told her some things, not very pleasant things, about her mentor. Agyness refused to believe their hateful words; how could they speak so unfavorably about a man who had been, for the most part, a complete gentleman to her? Being her stubborn self, she decided to stick to her firm belief that Draco was a good man with a few flaws, like any normal human being.

Even though Agyness had been pleased to see her friends return with triumphant grins, she could not help feeling that the timing had been all wrong. She knew what Draco had been about to do, and she couldn’t have been happier; at least until the triumphant trio showed up. And then that vanquished look and walk that was Draco as he left the Ministry... It almost pained her to see what she had considered to be her one opportunity at a proper relationship leaving the Ministry in a fury, as she herself was steered away by the (she hated to acknowledge it) claws of Hermione. Taking one last swipe at her hair, she stood up, smoothing the front of her cream-colored coat as she did so. She swiped her long twig of a wand from her dresser before apparating to the Ministry’s entry level.

After making her way through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, taking care to dodge a young, pimpled wizard who tended to throw the Prophet in the faces of passersby as he tried to make a galleon, she jumped into a congested elevator, it’s many inhabitants groaning as they strained to make room for her. When she reached level two, she was quite alone, as usually was the case. The elevator doors creaked open in their normal slow fashion. Before she stepped a toe out into the corridor, Draco quickly shuffled in next to her, pressing the “Door Close” button as he did.

“Wha-?” Agyness was confused, and slightly shocked, to say the least. “Hello to you too,” Draco smirked, sensing her obvious surprise. “I’d like to finish where we left off yesterday, but rather with an order rather than a question,” His blue eyes seemed to twinkle as he spoke, “I’m taking you out.” Snapped out of her surprise, Agyness replied as she turned to press the Level Two button on the wall, “Okay, but first we have wor-”

“No we don’t,” Draco placed his hand on her arm, drawing her back, “I’m your boss, and what I say goes. We’re going out today, and nobody in the Ministry has to know.” Seeing the lights on the elevator’s numbered buttons flashing closer and closer to the top level, she spoke in a Ravenclaw-like fashion, “But won’t they see us walk out?” Draco offered his arm to her, boring his eyes into her as if forcing her to take the hint. “Ah…” She spoke, Draco’s mouth forming into a smug grin as did hers. With the swing of her arm onto his and a loud pop, they apparated out of the elevator.
----------
The landscape was beautiful. They were now on the sands of a deserted beach. The clear, blue waters softly lapped onto the smooth shore as the seagulls smoothly glided over the water, waiting for their next meal. In the distance down the shore, Agyness could make out a cove carved out of jagged, black rock that was surrounded with many palm trees, all of which blossomed with coconuts. The sun was shining brightly, although a cool breeze lessened the heat of its rays. They definitely weren’t in England anymore.

After taking a minute to view the scenery, she turned to Draco, a “care to explain?” look on her face. “A secluded beach in the south of France,” Draco spoke proudly. “Lovely choice,” Agyness nodded as she spoke, her eyes gazing over the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. “But why here? Couldn’t you have taken me to the Three Broomsticks?” Slightly miffed by her comment, he spoke with slight annoyance, “I thought you would have preferred a beach to a grimy pub; most women do.” “No, I do. It’s just…” Agyness trailed off, a look of realization overcoming her features. “How many women have preferred to come to a beach rather than ‘a grimy pub’? Exactly how many women have you romanced on this very beach in the hope that they would put out on the first night?”

Draco had to stop his jaw from dropping; the spunk that she had! And how did she catch on; or rather, get angry so quickly? Before his lips had even parted to make an answer, she fired back again, her tone even more exasperated, “No, let me take a guess; about 50 women? Maybe more? Let me ask you this: were all of them apprentices, or just the majority?” After a quick moment, Agyness was almost to the point of yelling, “You know what? Don’t even speak! I don’t want to look at your face!” And with that last burst of rage, she stormed off in the direction of the cove, the breeze whipping her brunette locks of hair about her hot-and-bothered face as though she were Medusa. She made extra care to kick sand behind her as she stomped across the terrain.

Draco did nothing but watch her stomp away in silence. What the bloody hell just happened? What made her become as mad as a hatter in the span of a couple of minutes? Draco thought back to what could have caused it. After a period of thought, he came up with the most likely answer: Potter and pals. “They probably told her horrid stories,” Draco crossly muttered to himself as he thought of the previous day, how Granger had swiped Agyness away just before he had asked her out. “Those gits!” He cursed as he kicked up sand with his black, leathered dress shoes, only to have the breeze blow the sand into his face. After spluttering and wiping his face with his sleeve, he began to feel a kind of guilt, which was definitely a feeling that he didn’t experience too often. It was true that he had seduced a number of women in his short twenty years of life, some of them his novices and some of them on the same beach. It was also true that seducing Agyness had been his intention ever since he had first laid eyes on her: the day that she had stumbled into him in the corridor, not knowing that he would be her mentor for the next year. Draco recalled his first impression of her: she seemed innocent, almost too innocent, and had seemed easy enough prey for him. However, his intentions changed drastically when he saw how fiery she could be: the day that she pushed a drunk Blaise away from herself instead of trembling with fear, as most women did when encountered with Blaise’s alcohol-fueled libido. That’s when he intuitively knew that she was different from the others.

After his moment of thought, he began the slow march to the cove to search for Agyness. He didn’t know what ferocity she would throw at him next, but was prepared with the only weapon he had in his mental arsenal: explanation.