A/N: It's been awhile, I know! But I'm just shyly poking my toes into the one shot pool to see how this goes…hopefully not too terribly. But tell me what you think! Otherwise, until next time; it was wonderful chatting with you all.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling gets all of the credit for the development of the amazing storyline known as Harry Potter.

Thursday Night Out

"Listen baby,

If you need me call me, no matter where you are, no matter how far.

Don't worry baby.

Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry, you don't have to worry."

I read from the note that had been stuck on the door of my flat. I did my schoolgirl giggle that is usually reserved for the drunken flirting scene and jammed my key into the lock while simultaneously pulling down the note. Of course the muggle lock was stupid as every competent wizard could get past it; but it made me feel safer. Living without it after having spent so many years with my parents and their millions of locks and keys made me feel unguarded. The damn pureblood prats were right; you can never take the muggle completely out of a muggleborn.

The note though, was from Harry, no question. Basically a guilt trip, but since he had been creative about his ways I decided to humor him tonight and show up. His little ploys to drag me away from my flat or my work at St. Mungo's had been working less and less frequently lately, thus creating his need for creativity. And tonight his note was right. Every moment in my life that I've needed Harry, he's been there in an instant; even if it inconvenienced him. Ron tended to be a little slower in response (which contributed in great part to the breaking off of our much anticipated courtship), but that's besides the point. Harry didn't need me to save his life or anything, but Ron was interning in America for another six months, and so Harry needed someone to show up to "Thursday Night Out," also known as the golden trio's weekly catch up session.

I hopped into my flat, dropped my things on the couch and began the difficult task of trying to gather everything I would need to get ready to go out. Sharing my living quarters with another of the medi-witches meant that my stuff was usually never in my room where I put it. But her stuff was usually never in her room either. We shared everything, and thus created quite the mess around our apartment. We had decided to give up trying to stop the mess and just agree upon the fact that it did make the flat seem more homely.

I bent down to pick up the last of my supplies and as I was picking up my head, I knocked quite ungraciously into something hard above me. As I winced and wondered what the hell could have been there that I hadn't noticed before, I spotted a pair of feet in Santa socks.

"Do you know what month it is?" I said without even looking up. As I moved my hand up to rub the sore spot on my head, I quickly realized my flaw and began apologizing profusely to this stranger. "Oh dear, I didn't even realize you were there! I'm so sorry, I, oh dear…"

The stranger chuckled. It was a nice chuckle too. The genuine kind that gave me tingles. Actually, that's not fair to generalize, because no other chuckle has ever caused me to tingle. But I immediately decided to look up at this strange man.

Which is promptly when I gasped and backed away.

How I thought that a man with just socks on might possibly be wearing a pair of pants that I hadn't actually seen baffles me to this day. But apparently I had drawn that conclusion. Worse yet, was the identity of the man that was standing before me. I wanted to yell and kick and scream about how this man was standing in my home (in boxers no less) but I couldn't get a single word out.

After moments of staring at each other, a smirk began to play at the man's lips and he spoke. "Fancy seeing you here, Granger."

"Oh, quite fancy. I suppose it's besides the point that I actually live here," I said contemptuously, and judging by the widening of his smirk I guessed that my face portrayed my feelings on the topic.

"And to answer your previous question, it's September."

I completely disregarded his statement; he was just trying to be a prat and piss me off. "What are you doing in my house, Malfoy?"

"I believe I was invited." Lena's dead, no questions.

"And what the hell are you doing without clothes on then?" Malfoy's smirk reappeared on his face. Shit. "No, wait. Actually, please don't tell me. I would appreciate it if you could escort yourself back to the bedroom though; I've got things to do."

There was that damn chuckle again. And directly following the chuckle were those damn tingles. "Presumptuous, aren't we Granger?"

"Not about you Malfoy."

He sighed, and as I watched his face I could see a smile begin to tug at the corners of his mouth. "If you must know, Lena's actually my cousin. I'm spending the night here because my stuff is being moved to a new flat tonight. I'll be gone tomorrow." Thank God. "Trust me, I don't want to be here any longer than necessary."

The prat. "The feeling is mutual," I bit out. I scrunched up my nose and continued to stare at his face. But my eyes became traitorous and wandered for a moment; just a moment. I had raked my eyes entirely over his chest before I even realized what I was doing. Then I quickly snapped them up to meet his grey eyes again. His face was neutral, but I could spot some emotion I couldn't quite place in his eyes as he stared back at mine. I nervously hoped he couldn't spot just how flushed I had become simply at the sight of his chest. Though, I have no doubt he did see, and thankfully chose to keep that mouth shut.

All of a sudden the tension in the room increased by threefold. What had only been a slight animosity between childhood enemies had become something different.

"Jeez Granger, can you ever grow up? I was just kidding." His voice was huskier than it had been before. Or maybe I just noticed that scratchiness from sleep that it contained.

And I couldn't respond. Maybe it was because of his scantily clad attire, or maybe it was the huskiness of his voice, or maybe it was the fact that he was trying to be amicable, but a word wouldn't escape my lips. To cover for my loss of breath, I frowned and turned around, with every intention of heading to my room to get ready. Harry was waiting. Harry was waiting for me, I reminded myself.

Since when did I need to remind myself of things to stay on track?

'Since Draco Malfoy showed up in your living room in nothing but boxers and a pair of socks after three years' my mind admonished. I pushed the thought away and attempted to convince myself that Harry was right, I really had been overworking myself lately.

"I'm sorry though," Malfoy's voice sounded from behind me (huskiness still evident) just as I reached the door of my room.

After a moment I breathed out, "What? For what?" Okay, not quite the cool, calm, collected Hermione I was looking for, but at least it was a word.

Malfoy cocked his head slightly and gave me a funny look. "For being such a prat just now. I pissed you off, and I am invading your home, after all. Talk about mood swings Granger, you were pissed off two seconds ago."

"Malfoy, I told you I have things to do. I'm sorry you're not the only thing I was thinking about," yeah, actually more specifically, it's your chest that I was thinking about. "And though this meeting has been fun, I have to be going. Have a good evening, I'm glad to see you're doing well after all of this time." Without waiting another second, I opened the door to my room and ran inside.

After three deep breaths, I remembered Harry and our night. Damn Malfoy. It's been three years and every time I see him, I still loose my head. Though this time, I was worried, was not completely out of hate.

I decided the only way I was going to actually get out would be to completely push Draco Malfoy out my head; so I attempted to do just that. It wasn't easy, but I was able to get on a skirt and a blouse without dawdling too much.

But as soon as I walked into my living room I stopped dead in the doorway; unable to take another step forward.

Now, I'm by no means superficial. Intelligence is so much more valuable than physical appearance in my opinion. And I have never, in my entire life, lost my senses because of the way someone looks.

Until now.

Malfoy was spread across the couch, still clad only in his boxers, with a book open in front of him. And oh Merlin, was he sexy. From the way that his blond hair gently kept falling in his eyes, try as he might to push it away, to those beautiful grey eyes scanning the pages of the book. Every part of him had caught my attention.

Only a moment later he lazily lifted his eyes off his text to meet mine. I flushed, and he smirked. Cocky bastard. He knew I was staring. "Didn't see you there Granger," he said slowly, implying that he actually had seen me.

"Yes you did," I said simply, surprising myself by the fact that I could form a coherent thought.

He cocked his eyebrow at me. "I thought you were going out with Wonder-Boy tonight."

"I was." I stated. "And still am planning to go out with Harry tonight."

"Really? And when is this plan of action going to come into play?"

"You are a complete prat."

"Just around certain people," he said suggestively. How was he able to make a completely un-sexual sentence sound entirely sexual?

I huffed at him and walked towards the door. Normal Hermione Granger would have had to have the last word in the argument, but normal Hermione Granger could talk whenever she so pleased. Normal Hermione Granger didn't go completely brain-dead around any guy she supposedly hated.

Deciding that I had to say something, anything, to him before I left, I turned towards him as I began to put on my coat. "Have a wonderful evening," came my sarcastic comment. 'Way to be a prude' I thought.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry," was his smug reply as he sat up to look over the back of the couch at me. "And you look beautiful tonight, by the way."

My eyes got as big as saucers at the comment. "Ex…excuse me?" I stuttered out.

"I said…" he said slowly, adding a condescending tone to his voice.

"I know what you said," I cut him off. "What I don't know is why you said it."

"Why not? It's the truth. Don't get all defensive about a complement, Granger. You really must not get a lot of them."

How dare he? I was about to yell and scream about his statement when it quickly dawned on me that he was absolutely right. I didn't get a lot of compliments. But this was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. He didn't give compliments at all, let alone to lowly mudbloods.

"Honestly Granger, I didn't mean any harm," he said while standing from the couch and moving towards me. "It's just…I mean…" Malfoy stuttering, this Harry would have to hear about (leaving out the part about me not being able speak as Malfoy moved closer to me of course though). "You really don't know how gorgeous you are, do you? I told you those two friends of yours were never any good. They don't even tell you that?"

I stared at him, completely baffled. Since when did he think I was gorgeous? And how the hell did he get to be only a foot away from me without me noticing? I shook my head in response to his question and continued to stare at those beautiful eyes of his.

For that moment, it didn't matter that we were childhood enemies. Or that he hated my friends and I hated his. Or that he was pureblood and I was a mudblood. In that moment, I was able to identify what the tension in the room had been earlier; sexual tension.

This man standing before me was not the one I had known years ago. He hadn't become a Death Eater, and he hadn't said mudblood a single time since he had been in my house. He had called me beautiful. And no one save my parents did that. He was gorgeous, intelligent, and made me loose my breath by just standing next to him. He was everything I wanted in a man.

All in all, I wanted Draco Malfoy. And from the way his grey eyes were hazily staring at me, I was almost positive he felt the same.

But only almost.

"So you and Potter are together now?" he asked roughly, his face back to that neutral expression that actually made him look like the heartless bastard everyone used to say he was.

"What? Me and Harry? Are you kidding? He's the closest I have to a brother; do you know how weird that would be?"

Malfoy's face actually visibly relaxed. I was stunned. "Good."

"Why?" I asked hesitantly.

And for the first time, Draco Malfoy smiled at me. Not a smirk, not something where the corners of his mouth twitched, but a smile. A heart-melting, knee breaking, dazzling smile. When he stepped forward and placed a hand gently on either side of my waist it took all of my effort to remain upright. Suddenly his voice was quiet as he spoke. "Because then I couldn't do this."

As soon as his mouth met mine, any strength I had left flew out the window, and I collapsed into his body. Much to my surprise, because this is still Draco Malfoy we're talking about, he didn't pull away. Rather, he pulled me in tighter and eased out of the kiss. He smiled at me again and I felt my heart running away from me.

"Now I'm warning you," I said quietly. "Harry may not be my boyfriend, but I'll make sure he kicks your ass if you break my heart."

He chuckled, that wonderful tingly chuckle, and I looked up at him nervously. Sure I can handle myself, but I hate that guys can have such a power over a girl. Love is the only subject I'm not sure of myself in, and that bothers me more than you can understand.

He squeezed me in a little tighter to him and kissed me forehead affectionately. "I would never," he said and rested his head on top of mine. "I would never," he said again and we both smiled.

Needless to say, I missed yet another "Thursday Night Out."