Disclaimer: Poor JKR – I play in her sandpit and do things to her characters that I'm not sure she'd approve of, but I get no benefit from it. She owns the beings and the world; I just made them play.
A/N:For some of the idea, I blame Stephen Fry.
"Remind me again why I'm here?"
Hermione Granger shifted from one foot to another and glanced down at her rather exposed cleavage. Her partner for the evening straightened his bow tie one more time.
"Because, Granger, my mother's best dress robes still have a large purple stain in the middle of them, despite the application of all the best cleaning spells known to Wizard and house elf. Because you not only admitted to spilling the Weasley's newest product all over her robe, which was hanging in what she thought was a nice safe spot behind her office door, but then you managed to fix the problem in the dyeing sense rather than the helpful one. And because, as your supervisor, you're lucky that my mother didn't sack you instead of insisting that you be my escort for this Gala Fundraiser."
Draco Malfoy leaned across her and gently smacked her hands away from her cleavage, then tugged at it to ensure that Hermione's assets were being displayed to their best advantage.
"Stop it," Hermione hissed. "They were fine."
"They were until you hoicked the front of that dress up. The silk is enchanted to stay in just the right place, so leave it alone! Anyway, we're nearly at the …" Draco turned from her to the house elf who was checking their details on a list at the door. "Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."
The house elf waved them in, and a mysterious voice announced their presence as they walked across the landing and reached the top of the staircase that wound down to the ballroom. The assembled guests turned at their names and gasps echoed around the room, but Draco held his hand out for Hermione, who placed her hand lightly on his and fixed a non-committal smile to her lips as they began their descent into the throng.
While she was only there under duress, Hermione had to admit that she hadn't had a decent night out in ages. Draco had promised to behave himself as a gentleman, and she was rather looking forward to dancing and music. And no dramas. This, however, was a vain hope. While most of the attendees were watching from an "Ohhh is this the latest gossip?" point of view as the pair swept down the stairs, one pair of eyes was glaring at her from a far corner as if his gaze could kill both her and her companion.
Hermione leaned over to Draco and whispered quietly "Ron's here."
"I felt the hatred from the moment we came inside," he replied. "Smile sweetly, it'll just infuriate him.'
To Hermione's surprise, the idea amused her, and she laughed joyously and naturally as they reached the bottom of the stairs, her face becoming enchanting from the amusement. It had been a rough couple of weeks since the break-up, and she had definitely felt left out and spurned by the entire Weasley family. For the first time in quite a while, she realised she was enjoying herself, and there is nothing like that to make a woman look quite beautiful.
Truth be told, the event which led to her arrival at the annual St Mungo's Charity Ball was not her fault at all. It is true that those people who are good at politics and manoeuvring can usually manage to re-surface after a downfall and return to positions of power. And while the House of Malfoy and the noble Black family each had their own abilities, the rapid rise of Narcissa Malfoy to the position of Deputy Minister of Magic within three years of the defeat of You-Know-Who surprised all but her closest confidants. After all, she no longer had to direct her energies to supporting her husband. She left him languishing at Malfoy Manor while she took herself to a smart flat in a respectable area in London within easy walking distance of the Leaky Cauldron, and within a year it was whispered that Narcissa Malfoy had charmed and flattered her way back into the good books of those in charge of Ministry appointments.
Hermione Granger, however, had not prospered after the Great Battle of Hogwarts. She had started work as a base-grade Witch in the Obliviator Headquarters with high hopes and excellent prospects. Unfortunately, a staffing freeze, budget cuts, and the appointment of certain witches and wizards who did not look upon her favourably, had all conspired to hold her back. Three years later she was still a base-grade Witch, and there seemed to be no current chances for promotion or even transfer to a more advantageous position. And then the fates conspired to make Narcissa her supervisor, and her lowly position was now cemented more firmly than one of Hagrid's rock cakes.
But the business with the robe … Ron had been trying to persuade her to leave the Ministry and come and work with him and George. And he'd brought in one of their latest inventions. And when he'd seen how miserable she was he had headed straight for Madam Malfoy's office to give Hermione's supervisor a piece of his mind. And, finding the office empty, Ron had proceeded to spray the entire contents of Weasley's Indelible Ink all over the exquisite light-green robe hanging behind the door. Hermione had raced after Ron, but hadn't been able to stop him before the robe was splattered in the most horrible green-brown colour possible. She'd yelled at Ron, Ron had yelled at her, she'd tried to cast a fast Evanesco but Ron pushed past her at the wrong moment when he realised that Madam Deputy Minister was coming into the room, Hermione had accidentally used the gesture for Aparecium instead … The only saving grace was that the colour had changed to a rather vivid purple, but this had not stopped Madam Deputy Minister from taking her revenge however she could.
Which is why Hermione had had to agree to partner Draco for the night.
On their third waltzing rotation of the ballroom floor, Draco pulled Hermione a little closer than she was comfortable with.
"Why does Ginger-nut look as if he could kill you?" Draco's whisper was barely audible above the band, but Hermione had been expecting it for a while.
"I told him we were over. He … put me in a very awkward position, and while I'm not completely unhappy about the consequences, I was sick of always cleaning up after him."
"So he's jealous?" Draco took the opportunity to slide his hand down so that it was more around her waist than her upper back. "Perhaps he wishes he was going home with you tonight."
Hermione took a deep breath and gently pushed Draco away until the regulation sliver of light was once more visible between them. "No-one is going home with me tonight, so get any ideas out of your head."
"Oh, but you agreed."
Hermione's hissing could have cut through the vault doors at Gringotts. "I DID NOT."
"You did. You agreed to partner me for the night. That means until either I dismiss you, or the sun comes up."
"For the BALL! I agreed to be your partner for the ball!"
"Sorry, Granger, but you're mine for the whole night. Be it dancing, or tiddlywinks in the library afterwards, until I let you go or until the sun comes up you are mine."
"Tiddlywinks..." The dubious note in Hermione's voice was rather obvious, but the idea now amused her. "You want to play a children's game after this?"
"And if I'm seen escorting you out, and probably back to the Manor, wouldn't that get the goat of Mr 'I'm a War Hero Too'?"
Hermione must have been desperate. And so thoroughly annoyed at Ron's continued glares and sulks that she laughed again, and nodded. Which only gave Ron entirely the wrong idea of what his ex-fiancée had just agreed to do, exactly as Draco had planned. And thus the blond-haired wizard twirled his beautiful date around once more, flaunting her beauty and rubbing it in just a little harder.
Hermione had to agree that there was something very nice about being féted and admired and told you were beautiful and clever. That, and a few glasses of punch had made her more than amenable to a late-night game of tiddlywinks. Draco apparated the pair of them to the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, then directed the house elf there to have the fire lit in the library and the supper laid out as he had planned. The bottle of champagne was chilling and the tiddlywinks were laid out ready. Draco pointed Hermione to the luxurious bathroom to freshen up, then removed his dinner suit jacket and pulled the armchairs away from the fireplace so that there would be room to play on the carpet in front of the flames. He untied the bow tie, leaving the ends dangling loose down the front of his dress shirt, and removed the stud from the collar that had been noticeable while not uncomfortable. Finally, he kicked off his shoes and stretched his feet towards the fire.
"Making yourself comfortable?" Draco jumped a little as Hermione came up behind him. He turned and gasped.
She had merely kicked off her own dancing pumps, and let down her hair, but the light from the fire was dancing on her skin and brightening her eyes in a way he had never seen. Certainly never before for him. He held up his hand and she took it to help herself down to sit on the rug opposite him, the tiddlywinks mat between them. But two minutes before, in the bathroom, she had looked at her reflection and decided that the past was the past. That however the night played out, she would go with it.
And deny everything afterwards if it went pear-shaped.
"So, ever played before?" Draco was surprised to see a brief wave of pain flash across her face.
"Never."
"Never? Too scared?"
Hermione blushed. "I … didn't have a lot of friends at Blenheim Junior. And of course we didn't play at Hogwarts." She wasn't able to look at him, but he pushed two small, oddly-shaped stones over to her.
"Then choose your squidger, and I'll teach you."
"Squidger?"
"The piece you use to make the winks fly into the pot. Like this." And he demonstrated by pressing the squidger down on the edge of a wink until it flew up into the air. Unfortunately, his aim wasn't entirely true, and the wink flew into Hermione's lap. She smiled and took the other stone.
"A squidger. Right."
She put the wink back on the mat and flipped it back to Draco. For a minute or two she just practised the moves, occasionally getting one wink into the pot in the middle. Draco watched indulgently, then emptied the pot in front of him and expertly sent a wink straight back into it.
"And if I play my next one right," Draco continued while attacking a second wink, "I'll be able to squop you, or even gromp you to a blitz." His face was serious, but as she watched, his smile slid out lopsidedly until he was grinning from ear to ear.
"You're making them up!"
"I'm not, I swear. Watch. A squop is where I make one of these jump on top..." Draco proceeded to demonstrate, and Hermione leaned over the mat and watched as the tiddlywink hopped across the mat, landing by her knee.
Draco looked up, the squidger in his hand dropping silently to the mat as he gently cupped her face in his hand. Hermione looked into his eyes, and realised that, for whatever reason, he was taking her seriously. Appreciated her.
Wanted her.
Slowly their lips met, and the kiss was hesitant and gentle, and very, very nice. She closed her eyes, and concentrated on the feel of someone who wasn't trying to swallow her. It surprised her how very tender he was being, softly stroking her cheek while his lips moved across hers. Their mouths moved against each other, an almost-unearthly vibration from the ridges on his lips starting to send tingles down her spine. She reached up her hand, and slid it under his jaw to cup the side of his head, and she was rewarded by an intake of breath and the slightest hint of a moan.
"Granger..."
Suddenly, she knew she had the power. The upper hand. His hesitations, the hitches in his breaths... She opened her eyes slightly, and saw him there, eyes shut and face deep in the sensations.
"Say my name."
"Granger."
"No, say it properly."
"H... Hermione."
He said it with a shudder, and she rewarded him with a renewal of the kiss, a little harder this time. Every so gently she ran her tongue over his lip and back across. He opened his mouth slightly, and she slid her tongue slightly inside, not even enough to touch his teeth, but enough that she could taste him.
He reacted by growling and pulling her down on the rug beside him, tiddlywinks scattering everywhere. For a while there were hands on bodies and teeth gently nipping under jaws and along necks, while tongues met and tasted and tangled and fingers ran through hair. Draco pushed her dress off her shoulders, and kissed down the edge of the neckline as he gently eased it off her breasts. He fumbled a little with the edges where the enchantment was still trying to hold it on, and Hermione sat up and reached for her wand. Draco's eyes grew wary, but she smiled at him, a little sadly.
"You knew it was going to come to this. Hang on while I cancel this spell."
His eyes dropped, and to her surprise, he was blushing. Not much, but against his skin and hair it was more than just the reflection of the firelight.
"I … I wasn't certain. I hoped."
She stopped, suddenly realising what she was dealing with, then she reached over and gently tipped his face up, forcing his eyes to meet hers.
"Draco?"
He said nothing, unwillingly looking at her, and she felt that she could read the secrets of his soul from the depths of his eyes.
"Draco? You've never done this before, have you?"
His silence told her everything. That, and the blush which had now deepened to run down his neck, contrasting shockingly against the white of his dress shirt.
"Do you know what I think?"
He shook his head slightly, and she leaned forwards and kissed his lips lightly.
"I think that there are worse ways for you to learn than in front of the fire after a lovely evening that I wasn't expecting. And I have had such a lovely night, and been treated so carefully, with so much respect, that I want to. To thank you. And to end the night perfectly."
She waved her wand and cancelled the sticking spell. And then she took his hand, and put it to her breast where it was spilling out of the dress, and wrapped his fingers around its softness until she felt him take the weight of it and hold it with reverence and appreciation.
He leaned over to her and kissed her, gently, then harder, and finally with determination …
Hermione Granger walked up to her front door just as the eastern sky turned from gold streaks to light. The smile on her face reflected the first rays of the sun, and she considered the ironies of the evening. Ron would hopefully realise that this meant things were definitely over between them. Draco had turned out to be a fast learner.
And she could always spill her morning tea on Narcissa on Monday. After all, if she was going to be punished, it was about time she actually did something worth being punished for.