"Let's run away together, Granger, we'll take nothing but our wands and each other."
"Please get back to work, Malfoy." Returned Hermione's clipped voice.
The satisfied smile sat silently on Draco's face, unaltered by the dismissal. Her voice held an unflinching mask of professionalism, but he was able to catch the new strength she used to press the quill to parchment. He took a slow sip from the chai tea he held, waiting from the doorway to see just when the parchment would tear from her abuse. He could hear the sharp scratching mirroring the movement of her hand, and knew a break couldn't be far off.
"Alright, fine." He let out an exaggerated sigh, taking a step toward her desk. The mahogany was nearly shining in the office light, the view of its top only broken by the necessities resting there. "I guess if it's going to be a deal-breaker, we can stop by your flat and grab those little green panties I know you have." His grin grew when the quill made an abrupt twitch. The feeling of smooth silk ghosted through his fingers, the flash of deep green passed by his eyes.
"If this is your formal resignation, please do note that the Ministry would prefer it to be in writing."
"Unless you're wearing them now, that would save us a lot of time." He took another long stride. Hermione's choking grip on the quill assured him that it would be in pieces before he returned to his own office, merely down the hall. "With your planning we might be able to reach Amsterdam by lunch."
The small rip that sounded was deafening. The abused quill was abruptly stilled, as was the tense hand connected to it. The movement's abrupt stop had left the quill's feathered end to quiver in the air, shaking with the force of her displeasure. Hermione had yet to look up from what Draco knew was an oh so deeply urgent message.
He would bet ten galleons she was doing work assigned to someone else in her department.
"Is Spinnet not keeping you busy enough in International Cooperation? If you let her know, I'm sure she would be happy to remedy that immediately." All of Hermione's movement had stopped other than that of her lips, which stayed in a tight line even then. Her eyes were boring holes into the already torn parchment, and Draco knew the moment he left it would be destroyed so she could work on a new and freshly unmarred sheet.
"Oh, Granger I'm sure you know just how busy I keep." The final step brought his thigh now to lean against the wood's cool edge, close enough to see the muscles in Hermione's neck pulled taut in control. "Now whether my desk is holding paperwork or otherwise is only a matter of semantics." He thought again to last month's interdepartmental celebration, where they had tested the stability of that very desk.
Knowing he had completed his goal of flustering Hermione, Draco turned on his heel and walked out without another word. He had barely stepped beyond the threshold when he heard the door slam with a roaring smack behind him.
"Marry me, tonight. We'll tell no one but the officiator, keep the moment just to ourselves."
"This board room is for Law Enforcement use only, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione said as she packed up the remnants of the meeting she had just finished. Other than her rigid response, she worked to fully ignore the presence looming over her shoulder.
"Let's go get our own room, a thousand of them. Once we're married we can find a proper house together with as many rooms as you'd like." One pale, slender hand hit the table in front of her and caged the side of Hermione's body.
She would have chosen to continue ignoring her present company, however the offending palm had landed squarely over her meeting notes. After witnessing the abysmal amount of notes others had taken during the discussion, the last thing she wanted was to lose those.
"I heard there was a great accomplishment on trade relations with Japan, the International Cooperation department is doing very well." Hermione ignored the chin that rested serenely upon her shoulder, nearly close enough to nose her ear, and instead worked to retrieve her notes without touching the intrusive fingers. She counted to ten, trying a calming trick which she couldn't help but notice had lost its efficiency in the last few weeks of these meetings.
Hermione tugged on the page's edge; neither the hand nor the notes budged.
"We could find a place together in Tokyo. Let's take a portkey and a long weekend, we can go flat-hunting there as a honeymoon celebration." Draco twisted his stance, laying his other hand on the opposite side of her body. "The cherry blossoms will only be in bloom for so long." His chin now tucked into the curve of her shoulder from behind. The warmth of his body was all over hers and Hermione was taken aback again with how risky and daring and wrong and sensual this interaction was.
Hermione did her best to ignore the familiarity of his stance. For just a sliver of a second she was back in his office, listening to the raucous party just beyond the door and Draco's muted grunts and moans at her neck. She could smell his cologne again, the comforting woodsy scent was just strong enough to reach her.
Hermione was unhappy with herself that she had done enough research recently to learn that particular scent was an expensive sandalwood cologne. Some knowledge she just did not need.
She was nearly finished getting everything from the meeting together, and wondered hopefully how well she could recreate those notes from memory if she acted quickly.
"The Law Enforcement Department has been successful lately in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office expansion. Have you met the newest officials?"
"Maybe we can get a realtor that will officiate for us while we look at flats. The quicker we can get to it, the better."
Hermione stalled for just a moment, casting a longing glance at her careful notes where she could just barely catch glimpses of words between his spread fingers. The thought was soon gone, and the loud pop of her disapparition sounded when she felt Draco's warm lips press underneath her jaw.
"Dinner with your parents this Friday? I have a very pressing question to ask your father." Draco announced, "I would feel poorly announcing our engagement without formally requesting your hand." Draco had caught Hermione walking out of a floo near him, refusing to turn her head in his direction. He was glad to get a start on his to-do list so early in the morning, and the visible clench in her jaw only served to spur him on.
"Morning, Mr. Malfoy." Came Hermione's curt response. As he came closer with purposeful steps, her feet quickened against the stone floors. Draco laid a hand low on her hip as he matched her stride, holding her tight against his side as they walked the hall.
"Is your mother a fan of flowers? I'd bring wine, but the last thing we need is for me to choose something she doesn't like." Draco pinched gently on her hip where he could feel the smoothness of her skin, just between the meeting of her clothes. "I'm sure your father will be agreeable, but getting them to call me son is another matter."
Draco decided that if he was doing this for any means other than purely intellectual ones, he just might have enjoyed how soft and sexy it was to have her toned bare waist underneath his palm. Such a sweet sin hidden under such chaste clothes.
Draco was struggling to pretend he wasn't thinking this, and that was not a turn-on.
"Spinnet said the Quidditch Cup planning is beginning, your department must be drowning with work for the next few months." The clicking of Hermione's shoes quickened once again as she spoke, nearly keeping her in a light jog toward the lifts. Draco's hold on her hips were enough to keep Hermione from flying away from him, but he was nearing a pace faster than the casual sway he preferred.
"Although, our deep undying devotion and passion for one another just might do the footwork for me." He leaned in close to her neck, being sure to breath against the shell of her ear. "What father can truly have the heart two keep two lovers apart?"
Hermione's legs seemed reinvigorated by the sight of the lifts ahead, only slowing when she outpaced Draco and was held in place by nimble fingers.
"Minister elections are coming up soon, within the month if I recall correctly. Shacklebolt will keep his place, I'm sure." Hermione spoke not to Draco, but to the lifts ahead. Draco noticed the pink of her cheeks, and felt nearly satisfied with her inability to even face him.
It was just too easy to rile her up.
Stepping deeper into the group of people waiting for a lift, Draco leaned down again to whisper only to Hermione. "I'll just have to keep the talk of bite marks and tanned thighs to myself for the night. I don't believe that would exactly," he paused to watch her tense and shiver, "endear me to them."
He brought the hand wrapped on her hip up for a moment to ghost over a small spot over the right side of her back where she had not long ago nursed a rather deep wound of passion.
They stepped into the next lift, and Hermione seemed to be without a viable answer. Draco smiled, glad to have won yet again. He was unsure of just when she would crack under the pressure, but rendering her speechless was enough for the time being. The morning crowd flooded into the lift around them, crushing Draco against Hermione in the tight quarters. He couldn't help but look down again to her, seeing the bright red flush that had spread across her neck like wildfire.
He had a few quips lined up to continue the barrage (he wanted to see just what shade of red he could get her blush to turn), but the upcoming quidditch season regrettably meant that he was having to cooperate with other departments while things were being set up. When the lift came to the Invisibility Task Force and he stepped to exit, he could hear the deep breath she released behind him.
"Do you have any thoughts on baby names, Granger?" Draco closed Hermione's office door behind him. "I'm partial to keeping with the family tradition of naming children after constellations, but it can be tricky. I absolutely will not agree to Ursa or Pegasus, just begging to be mocked." He stepped further into the room, taking a seat at the front of Hermione's desk.
Hermione did not move. She did not scratch her quill, she did not look up at his arrival, and she debated just closing her eyes and waiting for the teasing to conclude.
"I heard the first Quidditch game of the season is set for tomorrow. Germany and Brazil, if I recall correctly?" Hermione forced the words from her mouth. Being civil was growing difficult with time, as Draco seemed unwilling to give up this quest to prove his point. She personally felt that he had sufficiently supplied his feelings on the matter.
Draco rested one of his feet on Hermione's desk, being sure to land the Italian leather directly on the parchment she had been pretending to read. Draco's wish to rile her up was clear, however her knowledge of that did little to quell her scoff over the tarnished memo. It might have been worse, had his shoes not been absolutely pristine.
"Corvus or Caelum are both strong names, though if we have a girl neither would work." He leaned back in the chair, being sure to make himself wholly comfortable. "Cassiopeia is nice, but it's also dreadfully long. We'd have to shorten it for casual conversation, rendering the name itself just pointless." The length of his body was now fully spread in front of her. He reclined in the chair, leaning his head back as his torso was nearly flat and in line with his legs. She knew from memory just how lean and flat his torso truly was underneath his undoubtedly expensive shirt, but that was wholly unimportant at the moment.
Hermione tugged lightly on the memo, but knew that until he left all that would get her is a rip in the parchment and a smirk on his smug face.
"As you can see I'm very busy here, recruiting season has come for aurors and Harry has requested my assistance." The effort was pointless, she knew. She could make it as clear as possible that she wanted him to leave, but Draco would still insist on sitting there and prattling on about baby names and marriage and Godric knows what else.
"Pheonix is an interesting idea, but isn't it so very obvious?" He paused, "While Draco does mean dragon, my name isn't just the word dragon. How terribly uninspired that would be."
These torturous meetings reminded Hermione of why she should be more careful around brandy, just a few glasses and she lost her damn mind. Two hours into the celebrating the success of an interdepartmental project and she was naked in Draco's office, bent over his desk.
Hermione's face warmed at the memory; recalling the feeling of him so close to her, the sound of his whispered exclamations, the experience of him pulling and pushing and branding her body.
She wondered if there was a way to stop cooperation between the Departments of Magical Law Enforcement and International Magical Cooperation. International magical laws are only so important, aren't they?
Hermione knew she was wrong, she was going to have to keep working with Draco. She would just need to not sleep with him, again. She needed to not smell the vanilla and sandalwood cologne he wore. She needed him to let her forget what happened.
"Have you voted for Minister yet today? I think you can either do so in the Minister's office or by memo." Hermione had voted for Shacklebolt this morning by memo, the first thing she had done once reaching her desk.
"Are you deeply attached to any of your family names? Maybe we can split, and I'll pick the first name and you can pick the middle." He paused for a moment, seemingly scanning the discomfort and tension in her face. Hermione was teetering on the edge of finally ending their game, and they both knew so. "Fine, Granger. If it's such a big deal for you to get the first name then you're welcome to fight me for it. Whoever orgasms first loses?"
Hermione felt her face bloom with such heat that she nearly looked for a mirror to see just how rosy she had become.
"I have decided that we should begin a photo album." Draco declared, following Hermione into her office. "We must document these significant moments in our relationship while we can." He closed the door behind them, keeping close to her back as she worked further into the room.
"Afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. I heard G-Germany won against Brazil over the weekend, less than surprising." Hermione was only speaking to distract herself from his presence at her back, his lips ghosting against her neck, his fingers gripping low on her hips. While she might not be ready to fully admit it to herself, she knew it wasn't working.
She could pretend that this was a professional interaction (and that was a real stretch), but that didn't stop her heart from thrumming faster in her chest. It didn't slow the racing blush that spread across her cheeks. The only thing that her war-tested willpower could do was minimize her leaning into his touch.
"Our first date, our first threesome, meeting each other's parents, the first time either of us gives the other a foot rub, spending the night in each other's beds, the first meal we share. All of the important things, you know." Draco whispered the words into Hermione's ear, and she decided that he must be purposely talking lower. His voice wasn't usually so deep, and dare she say, sexual. "Any others coming to mind?"
Hermione could feel herself losing her ability to think with every whispered word and heated touch.
She wanted to pull a quip out of her pocket, to show to Draco that he couldn't beat her. She searched her mind for some mindless small talk topic, but her thoughts keep coming back to how much she enjoys the feel of his lean physique just short of touching her.
Hermione knows that when she fails to respond he will leave, and she will be tortured with this back and forth again. This push and pull that Draco instigates seemingly at the drop of a hat. She's tried to track the days it happens so she can find the pattern he's following, but even that proved futile. There was no specific time that he chose to grace her with his presence, it was entirely at the random chance of his will.
The game of dice that her time at work had become was fraying her nerves, and she needed an end to these weeks of teasing torture. So close and yet so far.
Waiting for the initial disappointment, she savored his breath against her neck while she was still given it. However, it never came. Hermione had failed, allowing the banter to fall short, not returning his taunt with one of her own, and yet he was still there.
"Had I thought far enough ahead, I would have gotten a photo of myself sliding in and ou-"
And with that, the coil of lust and anger that had been residing within Hermione finally snapped.
"Draco!" Hermione shouted, slamming her hands flat atop her desk. "I get it! I overreacted, is that what you want from me?"
Draco was still standing behind her, and in her anger she had bent herself back against him. This was all too familiar. With the sandalwood cologne and the teasing reminders and his powerful presence looming always nearby, she could never escape their night together. She would be forever haunted by Draco Malfoy and what they'd done.
"I shouldn't have called the meeting, I shouldn't have brought it up, I shouldn't have even said anything! I get it!" Hermione spun where she stood, looking straight to his grey eyes. She had guessed that by now his face would be shining with the gleam of victory, and she was right.
"Yes, Granger, that is exactly what I've been looking for!" Draco's voice was only too pleased with her break, and it had risen slightly from the seductive charm it had held moments ago. Hermione was displeased that she knew his voice well enough to tell when it was different. "That meeting was bloody stupid, and you know it."
"Draco! That meeting was the appropriate response to the situation, whether it's what you wanted to hear or not." One of Hermione's palms held onto her own hip, raising her nose only slightly at him.
Draco rolled his eyes, smugly grinning with the mirth of having finally gotten the satisfaction of truly winning. "Maybe a passing remark or a congratulations were due, but I absolutely did not need a bloody meeting for you to tell me that we needed to forget our fruitless indiscretion." Draco took the time to make what Hermione determined was a rude pantomime of her words during the meeting. "I had no need for you to alert me of the need for a calm rational step back and how we mustn't threaten our careers over a passing romance."
"Do you find any of that not true?" Hermione ignored the rolling of Draco's eyes. "All of that was accurate and rational."
"Granger!" Draco stared into her brown eyes for a moment, seemingly shocked that she was still looking to defend her previous stance. "I didn't propose to you in front of the floo; we fucked! I can assure you that I've slept with plenty of witches here in the Ministry and not a single time have I lost my bloody mind and ability to function just over that!"
"As sordid and diverse as I'm sure your history of companions must be, Draco, that is not the point of this discussion-"
"This is a row, Granger."
"The point is that I did not want the hard work being done here to be affected by a momentary slip up. Both of us needed to act with purpose and thought-"
Draco's lips slammed onto hers, tired of watching her dig her heels ever deeper into quicksand.
Hermione still fundamentally disagreed with his defense and his actions for the last few weeks, but was wholly diverted by the sweet release of Draco's lips on hers once again. She had tried to pull away when he pushed, to escape his teasing and his flirting, but she had seen how absolutely maddening that had become. It seemed all she could do now was push back.
With his body finally pressed against her again, with his palms on her hips, with his mouth on hers, it was exactly what she had been missing since the first time.
"The point is that you are bloody infuriating, witch." He growled into Hermione's mouth
