-15 years ago-
A knock sounded against Hermione Granger's closed office door.
"Hermione?" Blaise Zabini, her superior, was the one behind it.
"Come on in, Blaise."
"Ok, so hear me out."
That was a great way to start her morning. Whenever Blaise asked her to 'hear him out' it usually involved something tedious, unpleasant or, Merlin forbid, deadly.
"What is it now, Blaise?"
"So, Draco is freshly out of Azkabanā¦" He let that knowledge sink into her brain.
"And I should care why?"
"Well, he's looking for work, and he approached me." He was hesitant.
"And?"
"And the only place currently with an availability is, well, here."
"No! I refuse. Give me my severance package now and let me take my retirement, because that will never happen. No, Blaise, no."
"Hermione, give the bloke a chance," he attempted to persuade.
"To what? Avada Kedavra me for breathing his precious pureblood air? No thanks."
"He's changed, 'Mione. Give him a chance. If it isn't working in a month, I'll find him another job."
She looked at him petulantly.
"Blaise whatever-your-middle-name-is Zabini, I hate you." She narrowed her gaze in his direction.
"And yet I adore you, 'Mione."
"So why are you in charge of finding Malfoy work? What about all his galleons?" she asked, feigning interest.
"His father squandered them all away on his post-Azkaban tart of a girlfriend. So Draco is left sickleless and under my surveillance to better himself."
Hermione bit her tongue against her sentiment of the blind leading the blind. Blaise barely had his life under control, much less being left as the charge of his former schoolboy troublemaking cohort.
"So, they thought Mister One-Night-Stand would be a good chaperone? They clearly don't know you two very well." She smirked and began stacking file folders.
"He starts Monday," Blaise muttered, ignoring her comment as he made his exit.
"This is going to be a disaster," she grumbled to herself, sitting herself down to work.
Monday morning, Hermione arrived at her office early, as per usual, having totally forgotten her conversation with Blaise. She entered her office, not noticing the second desk that had materialized over the weekend. Hermione also seemed not to notice the tall blond man with his legs stretched out so that his expensive French shoes perched perfectly on top of a pile of billing statements.
It wasn't until Blaise came in and stood at the other desk and began making polite conversation that Hermione looked up and noticed that her space had decreased in size.
Draco had to imagine Snape in a see-through nighty to decrease the rousing in his shorts. She was the picture of perfection: black, plastic, square-rimmed glasses edged down her nose as she bit on her featherless quill. Her hair was pulled back into a loose, curly ponytail.
"Blaise, I thought you were joking."
"Ahem, no, actually I was quite serious. He needs work experience until old man Malfoy croaks so he can inherit the company."
"Can I help?"
"I'm sorry - help with what?"
"Killing off the old man so he has job security."
Blaise looked up at her then and tried not to smile when he realized she was entirely serious.
"Hermione, we are not killing off the Malfoy patriarch just because you two hate each other."
"Why not? Lucius helped kill off loads of muggleborns just because they were muggleborns. What's the difference?"
A deep chuckle answered her.
"She certainly hasn't lost her spunk has she, eh, Blaise?"
Her eyes snapped up to meet his and he was internally set aflame. Flashes of vulgar images were no longer keeping his erection at bay. He was rock solid for her.
"Never. She's been this feisty since the day she stepped into my office."
"Was she this hot at Hogwarts?" he asked. She gasped.
He knew he was throwing her off center, and he was thoroughly enjoying it. His comment earned him a roll of her stunning eyes and a cluck of her tongue.
"Good luck. Don't kill each other."
Just like that, Blaise was gone. She and Draco Malfoy were left alone to work together in an amicable silence.
"So Granger, take a class on sex appeal after we graduated?" he tried.
She huffed in a Umbridge-like tone and continued to make marks on the paper in front of her.
Draco refused to be ignored. He stood and strode to her desk. Pushing aside a stack of papers, he sat down on the edge of her desk closest to her. His erection was prominent and obvious. Hermione was undeterred.
"Malfoy, I'm engaged to Ron. So whatever you are trying to do, it's going to stop. If you want to stay out of Azkaban or avoid a St. Mungo's stay for testicular retrieval, I suggest you take yourself back to your side of the office." Her tone was firm.
Draco's shoulders sagged and he strode back toward his desk. He couldn't deny the pride she wore on her face as she watched him retreat with his metaphorical tail between his legs.
That was just the way it was going to be.
