Set after Deathly Hallows, exempting the last chapter… just because that's not the way that I roll. :

Disclaimer: All characters and such belong to J.K. Rowling… I just like to make up my own plots.

Chapter 1: Take Me to the Gala

Hermione woke to a loud thump and rumble that shook her wooden jalopy of a desk. Her head snapped up to see the silhouette of her boss against the luminous ceiling light. She hastily wiped her mouth free of drool and straightened her blouse from where it had ridden up when she had been asleep. Her boss laid his hand on the front edge of her desk and leaned forward so his face was shaded from the light.

"Are these late nights an imposition to your sleeping schedule, Granger?" he asked in mock concern.

Hermione shook her head fervently. "No… sir… I just… I didn't mean to."

"That's all right, I suppose." He straightened up and smoothed his suit out. "It's not as if I am the one with the deadline. I am not the one that is slacking off. Everyone else has adapted to their new schedule, why haven't you?"

"You know that you have been harder on me," Hermione murmured.

He looked down at her. "What was that?"

Hermione sighed heavily and finally mustered up all her courage to something that she'd wanted to do so badly since her late night shifts started. "I said that you know that you've been harder on me than any other employee. I have a life too and just because yours sucks and you have nothing better to do than boss people around, well, that doesn't mean that my life is like that too. So just… just… lay off, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted and stood up, setting herself at eyelevel with him.

He looked at her coldly and then looked away. For a few moments, there was complete and utter silence. Hermione just stood there, chest heaving from anger and shock. She couldn't believe that she had just under minded her boss. Never in her life would she have thought that she would do that… even though he was being a complete and total git.

Finally, Malfoy looked at Hermione with a look of slight appreciation and annoyance. "Touché."

That was all he said on that matter. Hermione let out the breath that she had been holding in and slumped back in her chair. "I'll get the inventory done… just not tonight, okay?"

"Just remember your deadline, Granger." Malfoy sighed and slipped a hand in the pocket of his slacks. "You can go."

"Thanks," Hermione breathed and began to straighten up her desk.

She flicked off her desk lamp and slung her peacoat on. She noticed that Malfoy was back in his office, but he was eyeing her. It made her strangely uncomfortable. What was he looking for? Was he seeing if she would slip up and forget to put the files back in the filing cabinet? Was he that desperate to fire her? No, if that were the case then he would have fired her when she yelled at him. So, why was he eyeing her?

Hermione shrugged off her curiosity and sheepishly slipped back into her black pumps, knowing that he was probably scoffing at her for not wearing her shoes. She slipped the files back in the cabinet, locked it and walked right out of the door.

Once she emerged from the Ministry of Magic, she looked up at the clock tower. It was nearly ten o' clock. She groaned inwardly and apparated back to her flat. Ron was sitting on her couch, drinking a Butterbeer, just as she suspected he would be.

At the sound of her arrival, Ron stood up and gave her a look of 'you-told-me-you-would-be-home-at-eight.'

"Ronald, I am so sorry. It's just that our department is swamped because this is the time for inventory and with the Department of Mysteries… there's a lot to… process."

He enveloped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "You're here now, aren't you?"

She smiled. "Yes, I suppose I am." And with that, Hermione kissed him sweetly and softly.

"You always taste like cinnamon," Ron whispered in her ear.

"And you always taste like peppermint," she whispered back.

They stood there for a few long moments, just soaking each other in, until Hermione smelled something peculiar.

"Is… is there something… burning?" Hermione asked, sniffing all the while.

Ron's eyes popped out and he ran to her stove. "I tried really hard to make cinnamon rolls, because I was really craving them and you said that you loved them yourself. It was going to be a surprise until…" Ron pulled them out of the oven. There were six black lumps on the cookie sheet. "Damn Muggles and their stupid ovens." Ron said 'oven' like it was a swear word.

Hermione giggled and cocked her head to the side. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

His shoulders slumped. He threw the lumps away, the cookie sheet in the sink and turned the oven off. "I suppose."

"Get over here," Hermione demanded.

He lazily dragged himself over to her. "What?"

Hermione kissed him hard on the mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. He snaked his arms around her petite waist and backed them onto the couch. A few moments later, Ron pulled away and sighed.

"I have to go," Ron groaned.

"Nooo," Hermione pouted and folded her arms across her chest.

Ron smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry. I have an early day tomorrow." Ron grabbed his coat and blew her a kiss. "I love you."

"Yea, yea," Hermione threw a couch pillow at him. "Love you too."

He winked at her and tossed the pillow back just as he apparated away from her. He always seemed to pull away just as they were getting close. It made her wonder if he said 'I love you' out of habit or if he truly meant it. She shook her head from those dangerous thoughts. Of course he loved her, she was the one that told him that she didn't want to talk marriage until she was ready. Maybe he thought that she was pulling away and his only defense is to do the same so he wouldn't get hurt. Yes, that was it.

The next day, Hermione walked into work with a new sort of confidence about her. She was more poised and had a bigger corporate attitude, not to mention she dressed the part. She decided to show Draco Malfoy that she meant business. She wore a black pencil skirt that came just above her knees, a white blouse and a black vest that fit her every curve. She wore her hair in elegant curls, rather than the bushy curls that she donned for so many years before. She felt like she was turning over a new leaf.

"Granger, in my office." Malfoy commanded halfway through the day.

Hermione took in a deep breath and tried to grasp onto the confidence she had earlier that day. She rolled away from her desk, stood up and strode into his office. He shut the door behind her, gesturing for her to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. He took a seat his large office chair and leaned back in it, staring at a very nervous Hermione.

"I found this on your desk." He leaned forward and tossed a pamphlet at her.

Hermione picked it up with shaking hands and looked at it. It was for the 'Bewitched Art Gala and Ball' that she had wanted to go to. "Yes, and?"

"Well, I happen to have a free ticket, seeing as the Mrs. and I are not longer together," Malfoy started. Hermione assumed that he meant Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy had married her fresh out of school and they had gotten a divorce only three months ago. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Malfoy continued. "I was rather hoping you would accompany me there."

Hermione looked up at him, startled. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Granger, I'm being serious. It would look rather peculiar if I showed up alone anyhow, so I mind as well take someone who wants to go, rather than just some single whore who only goes with me in hopes of getting a shag later on."

Hermione coughed on her breath that she was taking in. "Wow."

"Yes, well, I am a man of complete bluntness anymore." Malfoy sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So?" He rested his hands on his chest and made a steeple out of his long delicate fingers.

"Well, since you're being so blunt with me, I'll be blunt with you… I would love to," Hermione smiled at her hands, not wanting to smile at him. "But I have to ask, seeing as this is a very kind thing of you to offer, why?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and leaned forward yet again. "I'm not that same, arrogant little boy at Hogwarts, Hermione. I'm a human being. I have my ups and downs. You just so happened to catch me while I am going through and 'up' phase."

"Well, let's just hope that this phase lasts a very long time. I rather enjoy this side of you," Hermione got up. "Tonight at eight then?"

"Sounds delightful, I'll pick you up at your place." Malfoy smiled. Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "And yes, I have the address."

Hermione closed her mouth, smiled shyly and practically ran back to her desk. What had just happened? Draco Malfoy was being generous to her!

Hermione was pacing around in her flat when she heard a sudden pop.

"Oh thank God you are here, Ginny!" Hermione wrapped her arms around her best girlfriend. "I have a crisis. Did you bring all your cocktail dresses?"

"Yes, they're all in this case. But first, you have to tell me why this is so important. Is Ron taking you somewhere nice, for once?" Ginny joked, half-serious.

"No," Hermione's heart sank. She forgot about what Ron would think. However, she didn't have time to dwell on the guilt she felt. "Draco Malfoy invited me to that Gala that I've wanted to go to for so long. It's like a cocktail style ball-ish thing… just help me get all dolled up, will you?"

Ginny looked at her suspiciously. "Okay… but you have to give me all the details when you get back!"

"I should be home around eleven or so," Hermione calculated the night in her head. "But, what about your husband, will he care that you're out so late?"

"Harry can shove it if he does," Ginny smiled and held up the first dress. "Eh, too revealing." Second. "No, too stuffy." Third. "Ugh, too funeral." Fourth. "And we have a winner!"

Hermione looked down at the little black dress that Ginny was holding against her body. It was a strapless, sweetheart neckline form fitting dress that hit right at the knees. Hermione smiled. "Perfect."

"Now the hair," Ginny tapped her wand to her lips. "A French twist should suffice." She flicked her wand and Hermione's hair spun elegantly into a French twist. "There."

"Thank you so much, Ginny." Hermione hugged her.

Ginny packed up the useless dressed and kissed her cheek. "No problem. I'll be here at eleven sharp." Ginny smiled. "Oh, and, I would go with pearls as you accessorize yourself."

"Okay," Hermione giggled. "I will."

At exactly eight o' clock, Malfoy showed up at Hermione's door. When she opened it, his jaw dropped slightly, but he recovered well.

"I'm glad to see that we match," Malfoy tugged at his black tie and smirked a bit.

"I suppose that's true," Hermione smiled. She grabbed her pearly white shawl and her handbag and stepped out of her flat. She locked the door behind her and linked arms with the expectant Malfoy.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but Malfoy broke the ice first. "You look very nice tonight."

Hermione's insides felt all bubbly. "You pull off a tux pretty well, yourself." This is not flirting. Hermione kept repeating that in her head.

Malfoy smiled. She was not flirting. Malfoy repeated over and over in his head. For some reason, he was coming up short with things to talk to her about. There was a lot of stuff on his mind, but he just couldn't speak in front of her all of a sudden. It was as if he was speechless because of her. He looked down at her as they approached the entrance to the Gala. He could see the perfect peak of her cleavage, the soft, sultry curves of her body and her long, slender and attractive legs. He felt himself having to control his desire for her. He knew that she was seeing Weasley. He knew that she was off limits, but somehow those facts made him want to slam her against the wall and bloody f—

"Malfoy," Hermione said softly and elbowed him in the side. "The tickets?"

"What? Oh, yes." Malfoy handed him the tickets from within his inside pocket and walked with Hermione on his arm, into the Gala.

"This is so amazing!" Hermione squealed with delight.

Malfoy smiled too. He liked to see her happy, and that was definitely a new feeling for him. "Shall we take the tour?"

"Oh, no." Hermione looked up at him with happy sparkling eyes. "We'll go on our own. I like to set the pace, not someone else. I like to be in control."

Malfoy's eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to control another urge to pull her into a supply closet and just rip right into—

"Ready?" Hermione asked gleefully.

"Whenever you are," he smiled down at her.

After they went on their own tour, Malfoy got up the courage to ask her to dance.

"Yes. Yes, I would love to," Hermione smiled in shock. That was the last question that she thought he would ask.

Hermione was whisked onto the floor and taken aback at how well Draco could dance. In her mind's eye, she was calling him Draco now, she supposed. He pulled her dangerously close and placed his hand on the small of her back, closing any gap they had between them. A feeling of pleasure pulsed through Hermione and it took all she had not to moan when their bodies collided. Their bodies began to move together in a rhythmic pattern and soon Hermione found herself closing her eyes and clutching his shoulders with all her might. She did not want to let go. He didn't want her to either.

But all too soon, their night ended and they had to leave.

He walked her up to her door, not wanting to say goodnight at all.

"I had an amazingly good time, Hermione." He smiled and kissed her cheek, letting his face linger there for a moment.

Hermione pulled away a little. "I did too, Draco." She smiled and put her key in the lock. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, all right?"

"Sounds good," he smiled back at her and then he was gone.

Hermione shut the door and let out and exasperated sigh. She went over to her kitchen and brewed herself a pot of coffee and then went into her bedroom to change into a pair of Ron's boxers and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt that also belonged to him. She walked back into the kitchen to find Ginny sitting on her island table eating an apple.

"It's eleven o' one. Spill," she commanded.

"Well, we went on our own private tour, we danced, we laughed, we had fun and then we said our goodbyes." Hermione shrugged. "Really, it wasn't much of anything."

"Liar," Ginny smirked.

It was then that Hermione realized that Ginny was wearing a very revealing and sexy nightgown. "Ginny, what are you wearing?"

She didn't have time to answer because there was a loud knock on her front door. Hermione ran to it and opened it to find Harry, clad in his boxers and a slight erection. Hermione gasped and looked away. "Oh my God."

"Is Ginny here?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

Hermione nodded. "Just one second, Harry." She shut the door on him and turned to Ginny. "You left him in the middle of sex to come and talk to me about my night?!"

Ginny just giggled.

"You are evil!" Hermione laughed and went into her room very quickly and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. "You had better not get any stains on anything." Hermione warned and opened the door again. "She's all yours." Hermione said awkwardly.

"Thanks Hermione." Harry smiled sheepishly and raced over to Ginny.

Hermione grabbed her coat and her purse and hurriedly left her flat as soon as she heard moans coming from her kitchen. "Great, now I can never eat dinner without feeling dirty," Hermione mumbled to herself.

She walked outside and headed for the café down the street.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up to see Ron on his way to her flat, no doubt. "Ronald!" Hermione ran to him and kissed his cheek. "You were coming to see me?"

"Yea, I was going to come earlier but Ginny told me that you went to that Gala thing with… Malfoy."

"Oh, yea. I was going to leave you a note, but I was running late." Hermione felt guilty all over again.

"Did you have fun?" he asked in a sort of melancholy tone.

"Yes. It was beautiful. I really wish you could have come." Hermione added.

Ron seemed to perk at that. "Where were you off too?"

"To get some coffee," Hermione replied.

"I bought you a coffee maker for your birthday, why not use that?" Ron inquired.

"Oh, trust me… I don't think I will be making coffee with that for a while…" Hermione muttered.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'll explain later." She smiled. "Do you want to get some coffee with me?"

Ron shrugged. "Sure, I don't have work tomorrow."

Hermione groaned. "I do."

Ron smiled and slung his arm around her shoulder. "Hating your boss right now, eh?"

Hermione laughed. "Definitely." She lied.

Hermione and Ron walked back up to her flat. She pressed her ear to the door and listened for the clear.

"We're good," Hermione opened her door. It didn't look like a mess at all. "Well, I had a wonderful coffee time with you, Ronald." Her plan was to kiss him quickly and sweetly, but Ron pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Her heart didn't race, but it was definitely one of his best kisses. "Maybe we should have coffee time more often," Hermione breathed and kissed him again.

"Mmm," Ron pulled away a bit. "I agree… but on a day when you and I both don't have work the next day."

"Oh… yea," Hermione replied. "I guess I should get some rest."

"Yea," Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I love you."

"Ditto," Hermione kissed her index finger and tapped his nose with it. "See you later."

He left and Hermione slipped back into her pajamas and into her bed.

That was the first night that she dreamt of Draco… not totally against her will either.