Chapter Text
It’s almost 10pm – the Ministry really likes to drawl out these pretentious events far too long for Draco’s liking. The grand hall shimmered with enchantments, its vaulted ceiling reflecting a sky full of twinkling stars that glistened over the guests below. The air buzzed with the soft hum of conversation and music, punctuated by the clinking of crystal goblets and light laughter. Witches and wizards, all finely dressed in their best robes, moved gracefully across the polished marble floor. It was a night of celebration – a grand ball for their latest achievements. Not that Draco really cared for it in any sense; but to make an appearance was a necessity.
Hermione Granger stood near the edge of the room, an arm resting around her waist as she clutched a small flute of champagne to her lips. She, too, wasn’t that interested in the camaraderie of the night. It was past her bedtime and all she wanted to do was to cuddle up to Crookshanks in her warm bed. Her eyes scanned the room, noting familiar faces. Harry was in deep conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt, their expressions friendly as they pat themselves on the back.
She sighed to herself. Unbeknownst to her, not everyone in the room was in the same celebratory spirit.
Draco moved through the crowd like a shadow, his sharp grey eyes scanning the audience. He had perfected the art of mingling, just enough to get away with brief nods and clipped greetings to those who crossed his path. Being on mandatory ministry placement was a drag – others being in his presence felt the same.
With a resigned sigh, Draco decided he’d had enough of the festivities. He turned on his heel, intending to make his way back upstairs to his office. It would be quicker to retrieve the documents himself and slip them into Hermione’s office without having to engage with her directly. He hadn’t ever spoken to the witch, only small nods of the head as they passed each other in the canteen. He wasn’t sure how she would take him, what she thought of him. Draco didn’t want to bother finding out, so he avoided her as much as he could.
But he required an immediate sign off on his latest research, knowing all too well that going through the traditional route of the bureaucracy of the Ministry took months – only to deny him several times. Perhaps Hermione would understand and appreciate his thoroughly detailed explanation in the file, Draco had made it particularly so.
As Draco turned to place his now empty glass upon the bar, a flash of her brown curls caught his eye. She had turned away from the crowd and was heading towards the balcony for a breath of fresh air. This was the perfect opportunity he was waiting on.
Silently, Draco slipped out of the grand hall and apparated in a swift motion. He landed in his office in front of his desk, retrieving the brown file that was sitting upon it. Glancing at it for a moment, he tucked it under his arm and apparated to a few floors up towards the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical creatures. It was quicker this way; he didn’t want the misfortune of someone seeing him in a department he had no reason to be on.
Just as he rounded the corner down the hall, a shadow figure emerged to his peripheral view. Draco quickly stepped back into the corner of the wall with silent breaths. He peeked his head just round to watch. No one should be up here, or in work at all. Especially ones that seem to be creeping around.
Draco suddenly felt a sense of irony.
As the figure quietly shut the door behind him, trying ever so hard to remain quiet, he stepped back to face the door. It was none other than Theodore Nott.
What the fuck?
Draco and Theo used to be close, but since the war with unknown intentions of both, they had stopped communicating as much. It wasn’t until Draco found out Theo was also on Ministry probation that they started to have friendly conversations.
If you could call friendly conversations as Theo rattling on about the ‘enchanting beauties’ in the office canteen loudly whilst Draco buried his head in his hands.
Theo brought up his wand and started muttering charms under his breath. As Draco stared at him, he noticed he looked slightly dishevelled, his hair a bit askew. It wasn’t like Theo, but surely, he thought that Theo wouldn’t be up to anything that would inhibit him breaking Ministry probation, his new life. Their new lives. As anything done by one ex-Death Eater suddenly reigned on all of them, including Draco.
He watched Theo bring up a hand and wipe the corner of his mouth, smiling to himself as he stashed away his wand into the back pocket of his suit trousers. He readjusted his sleeves as he rolled them to his elbows and placed both hands into his pocket, feigning a casual demeanour as he began to pace back down the corridor in the opposite direction.
Once he was out of earshot, Draco emerged from the shadows and swiftly waltzed up. A large wooden door stood before him with a golden plaque that read ‘Hermione J. Granger’.
Fuck’s sake, Theo.
Draco inwardly sighed in both irritation and exhaustion. Out of all the offices Theo could have been seen sneakily coming out of, it had to be hers. He didn’t know what to make of this revelation, but he also knew that whatever it was, he needed to know. Not for Theo’s sake, not even for Golden Girl, but for his own. Draco had only just recovered from his previous life, and he’ll be damned if he let another idiot put any strain on that.
With a small flick of his wand, he noticed the abundance of complex charms that swarmed around it; designed to keep out anyone who didn’t know the specific counter-curse. How strange, for her to keep her office so closed-off. Then again, this entire situation is just proof that it’s needed. Theo must have noticed this too as he seemed to have put them all back on again.
After a few minutes of counter-spells and a soft click, the lock gave way and Draco entered the room. The door creaked loudly as it opened, the lamps were still brimming with soft yellow light. He had a small feeling that Hermione probably went straight to the ball from her office and was planning on catching up on more work once it was over with.
As he walked in, his fingers brushed gently over her oak desk, his eyes wandering around the room to try and find.. something. He had no idea what he was looking for, or what Theo was even doing in this damn room. Had he left something? Stolen something? Nothing seemed out of place, as much as Draco could tell. Hermione was weirdly meticulous, he found. Everything was colour-coded and in orderly fashion. Even the muggle pens on her desk were in a neat line at the precise measurements.
Typical Granger.
He sighed and stood up, running his fingers through his hair but was abruptly startled when he heard faint voices down the corridor.
Fuck.
Draco had no time to dart out without being seen coming out of Hermione’s office, let alone redoing all the enchantments she had put on. He also couldn’t apparate the hell out of there as she had anti-apparition wards up. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake now. As the angry voices came too quick for comfort, he spotted a certain cloak neatly folded on a nearby bookshelf and flung it over himself as he stood near a corner.
As the two voices made their way into the room, Draco watched as Hermione stormed into her office with a little annoying Weasel following closely behind. He could see that she hesitated for only a split second at her door being slightly ajar upon entry but was too irate to care.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting off me, Ronald.” She spat as she stopped at her desk and swivelled round to Ron standing before her.
Splendid, a lover’s quarrel.
“Hermione, please. Just-.. Let’s talk through this, yeah?” Ron replied, his hands motioning out in a pleading manner. She folded her arms across her elegant blue silk gown that draped along the floor, something Draco wouldn’t think she’d own or wear in a million years. She tilted her head to the side as though she were egging him on to continue whatever he wanted to talk through.
“There’s nothing to talk through. You’re out of order for behaving the way you did.”
“I was just trying to lighten the mood, ‘Mione. You know, like old times..?” He gave a dismissive shrug as Hermione rolled her eyes.
Draco also mirrored her expression. Didn’t think he’d be watching a theatrical of a grovelling Weasel for the evening.
“Old times? Really? And what old times were they? 4 years ago?” As she moved around the room in annoyance, Ron followed looking desperate to get her to reason with him.
“I’m just worried about you, I want to help you. Be there for you, y’know, how we always used to be.”
Hermione scoffed and raised her hands to her temples as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Worried? About me? It seems that everyone’s worried about me in a farce attempt to gain something out of me. You don’t care about me at all, you haven’t for years! And I have been fine with that! So for you to just continue to like nothing ever happened, like the past few years have been just a little holiday break for you, that you can just come back to me as if I’ll be waiting hand on foot for you.” She shook her head as she ran her fingers through her curls. “This is just ridiculous!”
Ron furrowed his eyebrows as he began to stalk closer, her words seemingly going over his head as he contemplated. Hermione in response took another step back, so now that the two of them were walking backwards into her desk. He raised a hand up towards hers, to which she abruptly pulled away. She didn’t want contact; she didn’t want to be close. Her head dipped down to avoid the situation that was presenting itself to be rather uncomfortable. Ron did not get the hint.
He closed the space between them, Draco could see the glimmer in his eyes from the alcohol consumed up until this point. Ron felt as if he could sweeten the girl up with his idiotic charm. Even Draco knew when enough was enough to avoid further embarrassment. He cringed as he watched, noticing the door beside him being open and started to edge towards it to escape. He’ll return the cloak another time – not that anyone would notice any different.
Ron brought his hands back up and clasped both of hers together on her chest, her head turned to the side the avoid his gaze.
“Hermione, look at me.” He said softly. She didn’t want to look at him. He always thought that he could just ride along the feelings that once were to try and appease any situation. Hermione recoiled as much as she could, squinting her eyes shut. One of his hands raised up to gently grab her chin to force her to look at him, his face leaning closer. Was this some stupid attempt to woo her?
She struggled once to knock his hand away, but his grip on her jaw tightened as he pressed on.
Right, enough of this.
“Hermione-“
“No!”
As soon as she began to shove him away, Draco had knocked over a stack of books near the door to catch their attention. He had hoped it would knock the red head back into his senses and stop acting like a pathetic human being who couldn’t take no for an answer. He had never thought of Hermione, he hardly knew her, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let this continue.
Ron stumbled back, looking towards her with an offended expression. He had assumed her magic radiated wandlessly in rage to knock over the stack of books that were now spread across the floor. She looked to him in shock herself, her chest panting heavily. Ron looked to the side as if he were contemplating something. He would never own up to his mistakes.
“You’re just..-“ He looked up to her. “I’m sorry. For what I did.” Hermione stared at him for a moment.
“Ron-“
“It should never have happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did, cheating on you was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I can see it in your eyes when I’m with someone else.”
Her stare prolonged. Draco could see the rage building up in her eyes. She was in awe at how oblivious he was, to be sorry for something so.. trivial? Unimportant? Absolutely not what’s going on 4 years later? The witch composed herself as she leaned off the desk.
“You’re a fucking child.” She spat.
Ron blinked.
“How could you possibly not let this go? How could you think you could try something again when we have absolutely nothing in common?” She panted as she spoke, she couldn’t believe he could be this stupid. This obnoxious. As if she really needed this on top of everything else going on in her life. Ron was not deterred; he shook his head.
“You’ve changed, Hermione. You’re not the girl I knew before, you’re more.. alone, now. Other people agree with me too.” She scoffed in disbelief that he’s been spouting this nonsense to others. Great. “You don’t go out; you don’t hang out with any of our friends. It’s just like you’re surrounded by darkness.”
“Splendid. And what if I want to be surrounded by darkness?”
“What, and spend your time with someone in darkness like fucking Malfoy?”
“Yes, maybe!”
Her reaction caught both of them off-guard. Well, Draco certainly wasn’t expecting someone of the likes of him to be included in their little squabbles of infidelity.
Ron stood tall and squared his shoulders; his personality was black and white. One thing out of place and he turned, he’d suffer the consequences later. He leaned forwards slightly, his voice an angry whisper.
“Just think about it, Hermione.”
With that, Ron turned on his heels and briskly walked out of the door, slamming it shut. He barely missed Draco lurking in the shadows. There goes the escape plan.
Hermione released a heavy breath as she burrowed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. She really didn’t have the time, patience nor energy for any of this. As Draco stood thinking of his next move, he looked up – she was staring deep into his soul. He swallowed for a moment like a deer in headlights, thinking of what kind of excuse he was going to give. But, also, on a more pressing note.. How?
Then her eyes steered upwards as if she were searching for something. Just an eerie coincidence.
Her brown eyes averted to her desk as she slowly took a step towards it, noticing a sticky note out of place as she reached over to gently push it back. Meticulous little swot.
In one burst of action, Draco’s shield of invisibility flew above his head and onto the floor; revealing himself in front of Hermione who was the culprit as she clutched her chest, heaving with her hand outstretched with her wand.
“Merlin,” She breathed, seemingly in both surprise and relief. She closed her eyes for a moment before lowering her wand and walking round to her desk, plonking herself onto her chair. “It’s only you.”
She sighed before resting an elbow on the armchair, a fist into her temple as her eyes closed once again.
.. Only me?
Draco, whose hair was now being smoothed back into its sleek place, blinked a few times as he watched her. He took a few steps towards her desk in his black suit, deciding the play the casual game and make it up as he went along. As always.
“Evening, Granger.” He drawled, placing his hands into his jacket pockets as he towered over her desk. Hermione peeked an eye up at him in annoyance. “Were you-“
“I’m not even going to bother asking you what you’re doing in here,“ She interrupted, brushing the non-existent dust off of the wood. “I don’t have the energy.”
Success.
“Because I will find out.”
Not success.
Draco briefly turned his gaze towards the closed door behind him, then back at Hermione. Might as well spur on a little more nostalgic anguish before he makes his exit.
“Expecting someone else, were you?” He trailed, his mind now imagining a curly-haired git with a shit-eating grin.
The witch shrugged and sat back in her chair; her arms placed delicately upon her lap.
“No, I just thought.. You were Harry, or whoever else,” She trailed off.
“How did you see me? I thought the invisibility cloak was in the name.”
“Your trouser leg.”
Draco scoffed slightly in an amused manner, looking over his shoulder to the abundance of fabric splayed across the floor.
“Oh yes. Pity that they only made one conveniently for Potter’s minute height.”
Hermione didn’t seem to be listening; she started to pick and scratch at her freshly painted nails as she thought of her recent emotional affair. She couldn’t get upset in front of Draco. Her eyes gazed up at him briefly, speaking in a small soft voice.
“Thank you,”
He cocked a brow as he turned back towards her. She gestured with her eyes over to the fallen book on the floor.
“A mere accident. Although the Weasel is a stubborn prick.” He spat.
He stood there for a lot longer than what was comfortable, and it made Hermione apparently aware as she started to shuffle through her files in a few of the drawers in the desk. She was trying to take her mind off things, forget and move on. He could feel the ever-growing aura of irritation emanating from the small witch. Which wouldn’t be a surprise, really. This is the longest they’ve been in the same room together, alone, and speaking. This could have been his exit point; they could go back to giving each other feign pleasantries in the hallways. But something within Draco was forcing him to stay, he didn’t feel like he wanted to leave just yet.
Finally, the time was up.
“Did you need something?” She hissed. Draco took this opportunity and sat himself down into the chair opposite her desk as he elegantly crossed one long leg over the other, leaning back and watching her.
“Is it true?”
Hermione stopped in her tracks, her hands resting on misfiled papers in front of her. “Is what true?”
“Little Miss Granger has fallen from her title of precious Golden Girl, with no friends, bad attitude, always lonely.. And to top it all off, gets cheated on by that walking cretin.” Draco’s words spited towards the end. It shouldn’t come as a shock that of all people, Ron Weasley was someone he hated thoroughly. Even Potter was bearable enough these days.
“Sounds a lot like someone I know already.” She replied playfully with a hint of competition, stacking the papers vertically and tapping them onto the desk to neatly shuffle them into place. Draco couldn’t decide whether to smirk or sneer.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, so now you’re interested in my personal life?”
“Not particularly. But that Weasel needs to be knocked down a peg or two, and I’ll never miss the chance to do so.” He said as he leaned forward to lightly move one of the three biro pens back in its orderly place. Her eyes found his, he could see the cogs turning in that brain of hers before it was swiftly shunted. Hermione huffed and shoved the papers away.
“Mind your business. And besides, no logic ever gets through to Ron. Trust me, I’ve tried.” She replied exasperated, giving up all attempts to try and distract herself and focus on the intrusive man before her.
“Oh, I don’t doubt you’ve tried, Granger.” He purred as he sat back, flashing her a grin of satisfaction. “The problem is that logic was never his strong point. He’s childish, petty-“
She scoffed with a half-smile, knowing all too well the accuracy of Draco’s words.
“-Like how men tend to resolve with violence? Apply that logic. You’ve got to act petty to beat petty.”
“So, what do you propose, then?” Hermione leaned back into her chair; arms crossed over her chest as the cogs continued whirling in her mind. Draco admired how the witch was mulling his words, an amusing little game that he could see watching from the sidelines.
“What’s the one thing that’s the Weasel’s issue? Your interest.” Hermione brows twitched slightly as he listened to him speak. Draco pressed on. “He’s so adamant that you’re not interested in anyone else, so that he can swoop in and sweep you off your feet like the saviour he thinks he is.”
The witch groaned at his words, she absolutely loathed anything remotely as degrading and misogynistic as that. It was just the type of person that she couldn’t stand being with. Being chivalrous was one thing – but thinking you must be the hero because of some weird, internalised complex was another. She fought a bloody war, for Merlin’s sake.
Draco casually waved an arm in the air of feign disinterest. “You just need to show him the opposite.”
“So.. I just need to find someone, get too close for comfort, flirt, make him see it, and maybe he’ll shove off?”
“Precisely.”
Hermione averted her gaze down towards the floor as she went through her own little mind plan, a hand raised up to her lips as she pressed a finger against it. It would have to be someone at the function. Tonight. It was the perfect opportunity if it was where they already were. Very public, but not too public that it would cause a big scene. It would be better if they were in on it too, Hermione didn’t feel like leading someone on just to push them away at the end. Just enough to get the message across.
Draco knew there were probably plenty of people eager to get close to the Golden Girl: even he wasn’t dumb enough to miss the fact that she was conventionally attractive.
“I don’t know, find someone like Goldstein, or Smith? I’m sure they’d be rather happy as your eye-candy.” Draco said, haltering her thoughts.
“You.”
Silence stilled into the air.
“He hates you the most.” She added.
A sly cat-like grin appeared across Draco’s lips as he placed both of his arms against the chair rests beside him, watching her like she was a miraculous creature. Full of surprises, this witch.
“My, my, Granger. I was giving you a bit of courtesy as not to directly involve myself in your public appearances. But I suppose with those vengeful little claws you’d want to get the job done right.” Draco mused himself as he spoke, seemingly viewing the once- so-innocent witch with a new outlook.
Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.
“If that’s what it takes. He’s ruining my work and my personal life. It needs to end.”
“Well, then. We’ve got to be comfortable being in close proximity. Can’t have people thinking I’m giving you unwanted attention. It’d put quite a spur on the good reputation I’ve been building the past couple years.” Draco retorted. Hermione leaned forward onto the desk, her arms placed in front of her and fingers entwined.
“You’re right. We’ve barely said a word to each other, let alone outside the office. People will speculate otherwise.”
Draco nodded in agreement as he begins to stand up, elegantly buttoning up one of his suit jacket buttons before starting to take small steps around the desk. As he stood to her side, she looked up at his silvery eyes. A hand placed itself on the corner of the wooden desk, towering over her with an inquisitive look as Hermione swivelled in her chair to face him. Draco gazed up and down at Hermione’s slinky blue dress that hugged her curves so perfectly, taking in the sight.
“I’m all in if you want me to be. But be warned, Granger,” Draco moved in closer to Hermione, their noses only centimetres apart. “I don’t half-arse my work.” Draco’s words hung in the air like thick fog, each syllable a spark meant to ignite the blaze between them. He could see the fire in her eyes as she stared intently at him, glistening and darting from his left eye to his right. Draco mimicked her expression with a devilish grin that flaunted a desire for competition; a test to see her willpower. Hermione lifted her chin in defiance.
“I wouldn’t have suggested if I didn’t think you would.” She spoke softly back, yet with a harshness that invoked she was serious with this new mission they were on. Draco gave a small chuckle at her response. He couldn’t help but feel complimented over the fact that she thought he was so efficient.
“Who knows what lengths I could go to,” He drawled sarcastically. “I have quite the taste for revenge.”
Hermione began to stand up, not liking the feeling of him domineering above her as she watched him with a streak of antagonism. Draco followed suit; their bodies almost touching as she faced up at him. A small smile seeped their way to her lips, giving him an expression he couldn’t quite read.
“You’ve obviously had your fair share of women. Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Her head tilted slightly as one of her curls fell onto her rosy cheek. Draco watched her intently, contemplating. He had never quite seen her in this light before. Yes, she was always strong-willed, the epitome of Gryffindor courage – but now, there was something different.
The stakes were rising with every fleeting breath, an unspoken game unfolding between them as each passing moment was a wager, and the air between them thickened with tension. Draco knew he was teetering on the edge of a dangerous gamble, but he couldn’t resist the pull.
He raised his bet.
Draco’s hand moved slowly, deliberately brushing the loose curl from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered, trailing along her jawline until they suddenly found a grip, nails digging into her soft skin and forcing her face up to him.
He was playing to win, pushing her to fold, testing just how far she’d let this game go.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He replied tenderly, voice low and calculated, eyes locked on her.
But Hermione didn’t flinch. She didn’t move, didn’t falter. Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of heat in her gaze; defiant and daring that invoked an overpowering sense of desire. It was all there, she was calling his bluff, matching him move for move.
It caught him off guard.
In that single glance, it felt as if she had seized every card in his hand and turned the game entirely against him. His pulse quickened, a strange mix of frustration and fascination swirling within him. His grip on her jaw tightened instinctively, as if to reclaim his control over his feelings.
A slight and deviant smile tugged at the corners of Hermione’s pink lips; a knowing expression dared him to lean closer, unravel the layers of her confidence and poise. He swallowed.
The more she stood her ground, the more he wanted her.
In that moment, Draco realised she wasn’t just an opponent – she was the one holding all the cards.
On instinct, his face drew closer, their breaths mingling as they hovered just centimetres apart. Hermione’s gaze flickered to his lips for a brief second, and Draco caught the shift in her expression – the barely concealed invitation was all he needed to tip the balance.
He marvelled at the way her eyes sparkled, her beckoning expression creating a surge of raw powerful feelings deep within.
Menacing. Possessive. An insatiable want.
He tried to reason with the chaos of them, dismissing it as a natural reaction – a beautiful witch close to a handsome man. It was only logical.
A self-deprecating chuckle rose with him as he reluctantly let go of jaw, stepping back as if the distance could quell the heat simmering in the air. He hoped she would crack before he lost his own resolve.
As the clock chimed loudly, marking the hour of 11pm, both their gazes drifted toward the sound, momentarily breaking the spell that bound them.
“Shall we?”
Hermione nodded.
“Let’s.”