Draco Malfoy was the world's biggest prat. But damn, he was a great kisser.

When he, at last and with a smirk, allowed her to breathe again, Hermione was sure her lips would be numb for the next ten minutes. Determined to wipe that mocking grin off his face, she lessened the space between them.

Seeing the menacing gleam in her eyes, Draco panicked. The last time he had encountered that dangerous glint, he'd been on the receiving end of a most painful Stinging Hex. But before he could retreat, her hand made contact.

Watching his eyes roll to the back of his head as his breath became short pants, Hermione increased her rubbing rate until there was an unmistakable tenting in his trousers. Pulling on his tie until his nose bumped her shoulder, she whispered into his ear, "I win," and disappeared out the door of their shared office before he could regain his faculties.

~!#$%*~

Circe's teat! Why the hell hadn't Hermione Granger been sorted into Slytherin? A herd of hippogriffs could trample him alive before Draco admitted to her that she had bested him, but beat him she had.

And now, he was to be her slave for forty-eight hours. Her promise that he'd be alive by the end was of no comfort at all.

The Dark Lord must have secretly cursed him with a masochistic streak—that had to be the reason. Why else would Draco feel compelled to constantly pick fights with Granger? And whenever he couldn't win the argument, he resorted to kissing her into silence. Well, he'd have to re-think that tactic now.

Morgana's moulded milk, but that witch had balls!

~!#$%*~

Malfoy had played right into her hands. Either he was getting soft in his old age or she had somehow triggered a heretofore latent inner Hufflepuff. Well, whatever the reason, he had solved Hermione's two biggest problems, and she was going to take full advantage of it.

His Slytherin tendencies must be rubbing off. But I suppose that's inevitable, working as partners for two years.

She'd given instructions for him to have a picnic lunch ready at half-past noon in Central Park, New York City tomorrow. She'd also specified a list of food items that would require him to hop all over the city to procure. He was not allowed to ask for assistance from anyone except the proprietors of the shops he was purchasing his materials from. Oh, and did she mention that he was paying for said items?

Hermione leisurely packed the things she would need for a day spent in her favourite American city. She determinedly left the book she was reading unopened on her night table. She needed a good night's rest to have enough energy to fully enjoy bossing Malfoy about the next day.

~!#$%*~

Hermione couldn't decide which she enjoyed more: the scrumptious feast beneath a canopy of green or having her favourite parts of Pride and Prejudice read out loud to her, complete with different voices. Malfoy's Mrs. Bennet was particularly amusing.

Having whittled away a part of their Saturday afternoon, Hermione dragged Malfoy for a bit of shopping on Fifth Avenue to purchase suitable trinkets for the group of girls they were having dinner with that night. She ignored his question about the occasion for the get-together, but he quickly surmised it was some sort of Hen's Night from the gifts he was forced to buy. Thankfully, months spent in the presence of the Dark Lord had helped hone his ability to hide his emotions, like the extreme embarrassment he was feeling as salesgirls and cashiers openly giggled at the sight of his purchases. One had the audacity to wink at him and say, "Someone's getting some tonight for sure."

Draco followed Hermione with trepidation when she told him they needed to set up the restaurant for the party. It was five o'clock. They had not purchased any decoration materials on the shopping trip.

When they arrived at an unassuming Japanese restaurant, Hermione handed him over to the maitre d', who whisked him into a back room to be bathed and shaved. He was presented with the skimpiest bathing shorts he had ever seen; they left nothing to the imagination. He was then placed into the hands of an artist, who covered his body with an intricate oriental pattern. Finally, he was led through the main dining area toward the end that held the private function rooms. When he passed the first room, he peered in and nearly wet his almost-invisible trunks. Atop a long table in the centre of the room lay one of the men he had seen in the shower room. He was being covered in food.

When Draco was lead into the room where Hermione was waiting, he yanked her by the elbow toward one corner.

"There is no fucking way I'm going to be your dinner serving tray!"

"Too bad you insisted that there be no forfeiting. And I would really hate to put you under an Imperius … Just so you know, I've placed concealment charms around the room, so the local branch of the American Ministry is not going to detect any spells I use on your person."

"You're going to pay for this, Granger … "

"Of course I am! Much as I'd love to spend more of your money, I am hosting Susan's Hen Night. It would be bad etiquette otherwise."

"Don't think this is over, Granger. When my period of enslavement is over—"

"Yes, yes, you will whine and bitch for a week about how I took advantage of you. And then you'll lose another argument to me, and then we'd be back where we started yesterday. Unless, of course, you would rather be in total agreement with me from now on … No, I didn't think so. Now stop being such a sore loser. If you get all hot and bothered, they're going to make you take another bath."

Hermione walked away to discuss some final details with the server. Resigned, Draco took a few calming breaths and then climbed onto the table.

~!#$%*~

"Merlin, Hermione, this looks like a feast for kings! And what an attractive presentation! My appetite has certainly been wetted!"

"How did you even find this place?"

"Why hello, you gorgeous hunk of meat, you—Gandalf's gonads, Malfoy?"

"What are you talk—It is Malfoy! My, my Malfoy, there were always rumours in school about how fit you were, but I have to say, they don't do you justice! Mrreow!"

"I've always told you that your blushes were very becoming of your fair skin, Draco darling. You should do this more often. Makes you less corpse-like."

"Hermione, how the hell did you convince Malfoy to, er, 'serve' our food tonight?"

"He lost an argument."

Draco wisely kept silent as the witches prattled on. Normally, he was quite comfortable in his own skin, but this subservient position left him feeling extremely awkward and shy. He had not felt this way since the time Daphne Greengrass saw him naked in the tub when he was eight years-old. And speaking of the witch, she had been giving him lewd winks that suggested she had not forgotten that episode either. It was quite the Hogwarts reunion tonight, all the Houses represented by their noisiest bints. Dumbledore would've been so proud of such interhouse unity. It was a pity that it was at Draco's expense.

"His skin is so soft!"

"You should feel his hair."

"Hey, Pansy, you should know: is he usually this hairless, or did he clean up just for us?"

"Hey, Malfoy, what's your exercise regiment? I need to tell my boyfriend how to get a hot body like yours."

"Open up, big boy. Can't have you starving."

"No fair! I want to feed him!"

Draco tried desperately to tune them out, but it was hard to ignore the constant pokes and strokes all along his body. He never thought he would wish to hear a group of women talk about inane things like clothes and who was in a relationship with whom, but he did now. Anything was better than being openly discussed and being completely unable to stem the flow of conversation. The server had warned them from disturbing his bits because it would likely result in a complete upending of their dinner. He was too cross to be appreciative toward the server, though. Especially given the fact that, although they weren't allowed to touch, the witches had not been told to refrain from discussing and flirting with "Not-So-Little Draco". He now knew how slabs of meat felt at the market.

Things got worse when Hermione passed around the gifts she had made him purchase that afternoon. They began squealing. And giggling. He fought hard to suppress shudders when more than one offered to model their "thoughtful" gifts for him.

The party seemed to last forever. Its end did arrive, and after enduring a slew of parting snogs—most of them with tongue!—encouraged by Granger, Draco let out a sigh as he stiffly moved from his prone position. Hermione told him she would be waiting at the front entrance for him. He scrubbed his flesh furiously, hoping to wash away the memory of his humiliation.

When they finally hit the pavement again, Hermione led him toward the alley before producing a Portkey that would bring them home.

Before parting, she patted his cheek and told him he did very well. Now, he should go and rest up because tomorrow's schedule would be packed. He was to meet her inside the Leaky Cauldron at eight o'clock.

~!#$%*~

Hermione was pleased to see Malfoy already waiting for her when she arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. After partaking a quick breakfast, she brought him into Muggle London and the Underground to take the train to her parent's house. She was shocked when he paid the fare.

"What? Just because I don't like Muggles, doesn't mean I don't know anything about them. I've been to Muggle London and Muggle Paris countless times with my mum. It's been the trend among her friends lately to wear the latest Muggle fashion. In any case, it doesn't take a genius to figure out our ultimate destination after you told me to meet you at the Leaky."

When they arrived at her parents' house, Hermione told him they would be taking her mum's car. "I was expecting to need to raid my dad's wardrobe to find something that you can wear, but what you've got on should do. While I go up and change, start looking through these card notes I've prepared. We're going to my cousin Ambrosine's wedding. The family's going to want to know about us. We've been dating for a year. The cards will cover things that you should know about me. And while we're in the car, you need to tell me things about you that I should know. It's a twenty-minute drive, so that should give us enough time to straighten our stories."

After the wedding ceremony, Hermione told Malfoy that they were skipping the noon gathering to go shopping, grabbing a bite on the way. She hadn't noticed until she was packing for the wedding that someone at a previous function had spilled red wine on the back of her dress and had not had the courtesy to inform her.

Draco was surprised when they entered a little boutique called 'dress 2 party'. He didn't think that Granger was much of a fashion monger. However, once inside, he realized that the shop catered to a larger demographic of women than their storefront display suggested. He disapproved her first few choices, claiming they made her look too matronly or prudish. He enlisted the help of one of the girls, but he didn't like what she chose either. Finally, as Granger was changing out of the last dress, he found a pale blue, floor-length gown that, after she tried it on, hugged her soft curves without making her look indecent. He selected accessories to pair with it and paid for the entire purchase before she could protest.

Hermione caused quite a stir when she and Malfoy arrived at the reception.

~!#$%*~

"So, Draco, how did you and Hermione meet?"

"We attended school together. We were both prefects in our upper years, and during one of our rounds of patrolling the halls, she pulled me into one of the alcoves and jumped me. After having her way with me, she ignored me for the rest of the year. I may be a bloke, but I do have feelings. We didn't see each other after we left school until last year, when we ended up working in the same department and sharing an office. Well, you know how the saying goes about the first one. I decided to properly court her, show her how it should be done. And here we are."

"That silly girl! She was always the awkward one in the family. But I'll give her credit: she never lacked guts. Oh dear, if you'll excuse me one moment."

Draco smirked as he watched her walk toward a group of gossiping women. Granger was speaking to an elderly couple but was definitely within hearing range. He saw her pale at her cousin Sherry's tale. She had murder in her eyes as she stalked toward him and pulled him aside.

"Malfoy, what the hell is going on? Sherry's been telling this story about how I seduced you and broke your heart, but somehow, you forgave me, and now we're dating."

"All you said was that we met in school and have been dating for a year."

"That's because I wanted you to keep your answers vague!"

"Well, she asked for details, and since you didn't specify, I had to make something up."

"You're such a wanker! Lucky for you, the family knows Sherry likes to make up vicious gossip about others, so they won't pay attention. If ianyone else/i asks, we went to school together but ran in different circles. We met again as co-workers and found we had a lot in common. Which led to us dating for a year."

"That's so boring."

"Stick to the script, Malfoy, or I swear I'll hex you so badly once we're back home that you'll need to be hospitalized."

"Whatever you say, darling." He took advantage of the situation to plant a kiss, and Hermione had no choice but to stoically accept. He knew not to push too far when he felt a sharp pinch on his bum. She left him so that she could greet more members of the family.

Draco knew that there was enough curiosity about him that he need only remain in one spot. Sure enough, he was soon approached by an elderly lady with silver hair and twinkling eyes.

"You are the first young man our Hermione's ever brought home. I have to tell you, I was getting a bit worried that she would end up old and alone. All she ever talks about when she visits is work. Little did we suspect that she's had someone steady for a year now. You must come by for tea so we can get better acquainted."

"Thank you for the invitation. I would be delighted. I will have to ask your indulgence though: it has taken me forever to convince Hermione to take a break from work so that we can go away. We're going to Greece next week for a fortnight. I'll ask her to finalize arrangements with you once we've returned."

Draco did not have to wait long after the elderly lady left before Hermione accosted him again. "What did you say to my gran? She's talking about an imminent engagement and a wedding next year."

"She asked me to tea, and I accepted."

"What? Being asked to tea with Gran is her way of giving approval for your becoming a member of the family!"

"That wasn't in your notes."

"It's common sense, Malfoy!"

"What would you have me do, refuse?"

"You could have said you would leave the arranging to me. That way, iI/i decide if you go or not. You're making this more complicated than it needs to be."

"You said to charm them. They like me, you know. You should be thanking me for making such a good impression."

"I never said that! I said you have to be on your best behaviour. And I'll thank you to stop playing mind games with my family."

"Can I help it if I'm charming? Besides, that was the point of showing me off like I'm some sort of prize, isn't it?"

"No. I just needed a date."

"Really? I know a number of your Gryffindor friends are still single and would probably jump at the chance to play protective boyfriend. Admit it, Granger, I'm the trophy."

"Whatever soothes your ego, Malfoy. Dinner's about to start. We're sitting with some of my cousins. Watch what you say."

But Malfoy was in a devilish mood. Over dinner, he entertained the table with fibs about how she had rejected his request for a dance during the Yule Ball, how he had rescued her from wild beasts inside the Forbidden Forest—why she was there after curfew, he had no idea—how he tried to stop her from mixing with the wrong crowd … No amount of pinching and kicking beneath the table could stop him. In fact, his stories became more outrageous. She finally resigned herself to imbibing more and more wine to ease the pain.

~!#$%*~

"You're surprisingly nimble on your feet, Granger."

"Mum put me in ballet classes to curtail the awkwardness."

"You mean this is already an improvement? I'd demand a refund."

"I'm drunk! Although I'm not drunk enough to know your hand is much too low on my back."

"Still bossy. We should nominate you for Bossiest Witch of the Year. You know, we really need to get that Bludger up your ass permanently dislodged. There's no way—Bloody hell, Granger, are those tears? Look, I'm sorry! Merlin, your father's watching. Will you—Could you—I don't want to get beat up!"

"I'm not scared of Daddy. Your daddy, though, he's scary."

"I'd rather not discuss my father if it's all the same to you. Shit! Fine, fine, we'll talk about my blood father. Just don't cry!"

"You're so gullible."

"You little minx! I don't believe—mmmphhh—Stop using my trademark—mmmphhh … "

~!#$%*~

Draco woke up with a headache and his arm wrapped tightly around a very naked Hermione Granger. However, the state of his head wasn't enough to deter him from getting reacquainted with her body, to compare notes with his somewhat hazy memories from the night before.

He had not gotten very far when she stirred. "Wha time ''sit?"

"And a very good morning to you, too. Not a morning person, I take it."

"Not when I'm hungover. Be useful for a change and get me some Hangover Potion. Bathroom."

"What's wrong with the remedy I was giving?"

"My head hurts."

"So does mine. Delightfully so."

"Prat. Is this how you always act the morning after or am I just that special?"

"I've never had a morning after, so I wouldn't know."

She was fully awake now. "What? You mean you kick them out of your bed after you're done?"

"No. I mean I've never had a night before, so can't have a morning after."

"You—how is it possible that you're still a virgin?"

"With the Dark Lord threatening to take over my life, even after death—perhaps you noticed that I'm not on any 'Most Eligible Pure-blood' list?—there hasn't exactly been time to rectify the situation. Although you did so most thoroughly last night."

"Well, someone's awfully pleased with himself."

"I distinctly recall making you scream more than once, so yes, given my former virginal status, I'd say I deserve at least an 'E' for my performance."

"I created a monster. What are you—ohhhhhhh … "

Draco continued his ministrations for a bit before suddenly stopping.

"What are you—why did you stop?"

"We don't want to be late for work."

"Since when are you so concerned about work?"

"Since you showed me how effective a weapon sexual frustration can be."

"You sneaky—you know, the agreement was forty-eight hours of servitude."

"I've already fulfilled it! I was in New York by bloody half-past seven and spent the next few hours running about to get the items on your bloody list and then setting up the picnic."

"Ah, but our time together didn't start until half-past noon, so technically, you still owe me a few hours."

"Fine. What do you want me to do now?"

"For starters, you can send an owl to the office to tell them we're both taking a vacation day. Then, you can make breakfast. Afterwards, and if you're still on your best behaviour, you can take a break while I bonk your brains out."

Draco complied, although the order of tasks completed got somewhat jumbled up.