Disclaimer: Ok, We know how it goes, no money being made here, believe me, and there is no copyright infringement intended. See, let's play nice and read the wonderful little story I've put together, ok? Also intended for mature audiences, under a certain age of viewing status where you live? Yeah, do me a favor and follow your laws.
Mergers
"Who'd want a divorced woman? No!" Hermione slurred, correcting herself, "I'm sorry, a divorced woman with two kids!"
"You think that's all of your problems now?" Draco drawled, nursing what was left of his expensive single malt.
He ignored her silent glowering. "Now, let me tell you about mine. All have you know, I have a wife whose going to drag this out till she bleeds me dry, and in the meantime is filling my only son's head with silly notions that the Malfoy name can usher in the next era of Pureblood supremacy, because that's a vacant slot that's been filled so well. She's totally unsatisfied by my work in the Ministry, because oh no, that would be too normal, too ordinary a way to go about getting power – a commoner's way if you ask her."
"Well, you have to admit, it is odd that we sort of work together on occasion, don't you think? I mean people like your wife aren't too cheesed that I'm where I'm at in the Ministry, all up close in personal in their power. I mean you have to have people to subjugate, and if these 'perceived subordinates' are in positions of power too, well that's messing with the evil agenda! Hence the drastic, perhaps one might even say, genocidal measures." Hermione shrugged as if this immutable fact happened to be a part of her everyday operations still, despite how long the war had been over.
She was sipping on her fifth fruity and rum-based concoction, feeling wonderful for it at the moment, save the fact she had Malfoy to keep her company. Her mind was spinning, and her tongue felt like fire tonight; well, until she met up with him again, and quite by accident too. They sometimes had a way of finding each other like this, and lately it was becoming too frequent an occurrence for her tastes.
"Don't interrupt, it's rude." Draco cut back. Sneering lightly at his drink, not even bothering at looking up to reproach his sometimes co-worker, and sometimes-drinking companion, he pushed on, "As I was saying, before you interrupted my rant, especially after you went on, and on about Weasley never wanting to touch you – "
Hermione gasped, "When did I – Malfoy, you arse, I've said no such thing!"
Pretending he didn't hear her, he went back to frowning over his drink, pausing mid sip to let her know what he was really thinking, "She wants drama, she wants power, and she wants to use our son to make it all happen. The boy's barely out of his nappies, off attending Hogwarts as a Second Year. How can a mother presume to burden her son like that – especially since she knows what it's like, how my own father – "
Looking quite sour, he slammed his drink down as if the things that really ate at him refused to drown themselves just for the night. He wasn't asking much, just a few hours to not think so heavily on his problems.
Hermione sighed, resting her wobbly head on one hand. Turning on her seat to better face Draco, she leaned over a little before she sloppily patted his arm.
"There, there."
Shrugging off the comforting gesture, Draco scowled, "I'm a ranking official now in my Department, and how could I not be with all those convictions I helped to secure! If I play my cards right, I will secure the next nomination for Deputy Minister of Magic when Franklin leaves the post. And who knows, if I secure that position, while honorific in title, who's to say Minister of Magic is completely out of my league? How is that not enough for her?"
Looking up at her petulantly, he added snappishly, "And who would have thought that those little Greengrass bints went deeper than Glamour magic when it came to their Dark Arts?"
"Oh." said Hermione, her face scrunching up. She couldn't place the reference, "Uh?"
Not that she was about to admit it to him, but she didn't know of any Dark Glamours! It wasn't part of her area of expertise. Granted she didn't know, or use much of the regular Glamours either, but now he had her intrigued.
"Psychological Glamours are Astoria's specialty, you know. The torture that one could do with a poor sod like Potter," He sighed wearily, batting the shot glass back and forth between his hands, all without spilling a drop of his precious liquor.
"There was a reason she was sorted into Slytherin, and now we've come to divorce. And she intends to really sink her claws in," he nearly growled, his gazing nearly burning holes in the wood of the bar, "but I think she's going to find that even with her claws that the Malfoy name is a slippery one!"
Hermione only listened half-interestedly, not remotely paying attention to the sear pattern her blonde companion was currently impressing upon the bar. It occurred to her he was doing a lot more talking than any of the other times they happened to stumble haphazardly into the same tavern as the each other.
"Oh, Malfoy, Malfoy, Draco." Hermione breezed, smiling in a not unkind manner, "Welcome to the club!"
"Some sodding welcoming reception you are!" He sniffed disdainfully, his back straightening slightly as remembered who he was, and more importantly, to whom he was talking to.
Leaning over as far as her unbalanced arms would let her, Hermione proffered a sympathy hug.
"I can hug you if you want." She laughed, brimming with giggles, "I mean, it's not a luau style confessional, that's for sure, otherwise I'd have to give you a lei."
Draco wasn't the picture of sobriety himself, but he noted that she was really quite smashed. He merely raised an eyebrow at the silly witch before him.
"I mean, it's not a luau, despite what the umbrella in my drink maybe saying about the theme of tonight's party!" Her laughter tinkling as she jingled the fruity beverage at him, knocking the umbrella swizzle stick with a Boar's Head on the paper, back and forth, causing the poor animal to squeal in fear.
He noted that some of it happened to be sloshing over the sides. He supposed it was better than having her down the whole thing, as she was being quite ridiculous enough already. And blast that infernal squealing!
Ignoring what she assumed was his look of confusion, she pressed on, "Otherwise I'd give you lei, or the equivalent of something like it."
Draco was still unsure just what was wrong with her. Just how low was her alcohol tolerance anyways? Did she even know what she was spouting off with?
Searching around, as if struck by a brilliant idea, she spotted the perfect welcoming gift for their situation.
"Hmmm - here," she said shoving her bowl of peanuts at him, "Welcome to club, Mr. Malfoy. Your merger has officially begun the process of dissolution."
Draco sighed, this insufferable little witch, she was down right confusing. What fancy club was he a part of now, the lonely hearts one!
At the sound of his annoyed sigh, Hermione bit out, "Well, I'm all out of flowery leis, you git! I mean, look at me! Do I look like I'm lei producing machine?"
"I doubt you're drunk enough to do that." He sighed, although he did note that chasing after a bit of skirt didn't sound all that bad. It'd been so long since the last time he tried, and there was no time like the present to get back in the game.
"Do you even know what a luau is?" She asked, before smacking her forehead, "Dear Gods, Malfoy! I take back my hug offer, you pervert."
He hadn't even thought of doing that with her, but he did think it was interesting that's what she decided to accuse him of tonight. When they sometimes met up like this, and she was in a snit, she would often level random accusations at him. Once he was indirectly accused of being responsible for the phenomenon of missing socks, and other subversive Pureblood agenda non-sense. As if hiding one half to a pair of socks was the way to go about overthrowing the world, the imagination that one had, brilliant, but a tad overworked these days.
"Do you know what we really ought to do?" He asked.
"Really, if you are going to suggest we Apparate to my flat to shag, you're so going to be wearing my drink, and it's not because I can make myself puke on you at will. Oh, no! It's because you'll have made me that sick." She complained brazenly before sipping down the rest of the fruity drink.
"In the morning you're going to see my point, Granger, that is if you aren't too comatose to notice, or irreparably brain damaged to remember. Seeing I was going to suggest we take the Knight Bus home. I think you're much to drunk to Apparate safely." Draco said, slamming his hand down in an effort to get through to his dismally wasted acquaintance.
"And I don't need to feed into Astoria's delusions of grandeur." Draco said very irritably, "And while, I'd be down one enemy, unfortunately your accident and my association with you prior to it would only serve to give my other much scarier enemies a little too much Fiendfyre to torch my arse with all over the front pages of The Prophet, especially come the nominations for Deputy Minister! I mean, my past is spotty enough as it is. I don't really need your help blemishing it."
"Pssh" was all she cared to answer. Her hand flippantly waving him off, as if he were a fly buzzing about her head, and now that she thought about it, he was like an evil fly who was now trying to distract her from enjoying her relaxing beverages.
Also who was he to suggest that any association with her could be considered bad press? Well, outside of her coming to harm that is, she supposed he had a meager point there.
"Please, having me on your side publicly would do more for you than even the hardcore Purebloods, and Ass-toria would like to admit."
She had a point he conceded silently. Waving down the elf at the bar, she motioned for the creature to send two more of the Happy Hour specials down their way.
"Draco, why do you sit here with me?"
"Because you don't - " he sighed, not knowing how to respond to that simple question.
So instead he lied, "You talk a lot, and sometimes I just need to hear something drone on, like white noise, you know?"
Running his hand through his hair, before resting on his elbows again, he looked morosely into his nearly empty shot glass.
"But you don't really like me," Hermione pouted, "so I'm failing to see how of all the friends you have, and I know you have many, why I am the acceptable choice to listen to? I mean really, in your entire entourage, I rank??"
"You rank." He murmured, before throwing back the rest of his drink as he saw the leathery elf advance upon them with the next round.
"Well, just don't tell anyone at work, it'll take away from our credibility. People seem to think we never socialize outside a case. And until very recently, they were not wrong."
Hermione smiled, tipping the elf, before laying her lips to the straw to thirstily down whatever creamy concoction she indulged in now.
"Do you have to do that?" He complained.
"Hmm, do what?" She said, licking up some of the creamy drink that had transfered from her straw to the tips of her fingers.
"Do you have to suck your straw like that, it's unsightly."
Actually, he thought it was completely the opposite.
"And there's a polite way to drink from a straw?" She said, irritation lacing her voice. She huffed, and went back to doing what she pleased, how she pleased. If he didn't like it, he could leave.
"You don't use a straw, that's how." His voice clearly trying to convey that it was the obvious answer.
"Don't! If this is the part where you turn back into an evil troll, either drink that down, and become more tolerable again, or alternatively you can leave."
"Why should I leave, I was here first!" He railed indignant.
Eyes narrowing, she pointed a finger at him, aware that the room was slightly spinning now.
"You don't want me to splinch myself do you?" She accused.
"Again, I submit plan A. The Knight Bus."
"What's plan B?" He was confusing her with pseudo-logic, she was sure of it.
"Don't you remember? Plan B is your plan." He said silkily.
"Was it the hug?" She asked truly perplexed.
"Oh, you know - I think I do fancy a lay now." He smiled, it was genuine and predatory all at once, "Do you happen to know where I could get one of those, Granger?"
"What, a lei?"
"Yes, a lay."
"Are we speaking in code, Malfoy? Is there a thing here can you see that I can't?" Whispering now, she leaned in, "And is this how we are going to talk about it? It isn't Harry is it? Tell me he did not follow me here!"
At the extremely annoyed look on Draco's face, she gasped, "Oh, he's right be behind me isn't he! That shite! I told him I wouldn't hear anything he had to say on the subject, really the nerve!"
Before she could turn around to chew out her not-really-there friend, Draco deftly grabbed her upper arm, causing her to look at him.
"What the bloody hell!" She cried, jerking back, only to stop when she caught the look in his eyes. It was disarming.
"Stop playing, I don't want to play tonight. I'd wanted to drown my sorrows away, and it's not working. Talking to you isn't working much either, so I figure the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else!"
Bugger that last drink, he shouldn't have down it like that! He should have paced himself much better than this! That didn't sound nearly as good as it had in his head, it sounded like a rather lame pick up line.
"I hardly think that's what you need." She scoffed, not taking anything he was saying seriously. "Besides, we don't actually like one another, and if that weren't reason enough, again we work together, sort of. Oh, and also, we aren't technically divorced quite yet." She pointed at him again, as if tacking on an after note.
Pointing towards herself again, she ground out, "I'm still waiting on Ron to sign the papers!"
Then jabbing him in the chest, she pointed out again, "And you've yet to actually serve them to Ass-toria. It would be so tacky and scandalous if it ever got out. Really you should know – "
She was cut off with a soft kiss, she hadn't even seen it coming. And while it wasn't the tingle of the kiss itself that shocked her, it was the fact he was being gentle about it.
Turn a girl's world upside down, why don't you!
She'd expected him to be a whiny brute, someone who wanted to bully his partner into submission. She did not expect soft, slightly parted lips, and he didn't taste all that bad either. This wasn't a good sign, at least as far as she could tell.
People with good tasting saliva made OK kissers, as clearly they didn't taste gross and thus overcame one hurdle, but once that wormy tongue of his came out, which it didn't, Hermione was sure that it would wiggle flaccidly against hers, thereby ruining whatever pleasures she was experiencing now.
Sitting back now, Malfoy gave her a quiet look of contemplation. She seemed to be flustered, and he couldn't help smirking. There was also the added bonus that whenever she called Astoria, Ass-toria, well, it made his heart flutter a little. Blasted drinks, he was finding that the renowned Hermione Granger, soon-to-be ex-Weasley, was quite the attractive proposition right now. If he was going to be honest, which he hardly ever was these days, he'd have to admit that he never really did see her fitting in with that lot.
"Oh, make no mistake, I don't really like you either, and this is why it's going to be ok." He finally announced, his mind settled on what needed to happen next.
Something in the way he phrased it, made Hermione think that he might be on to something after all. Or that her positive agreement could have came from her unbridled lust, it'd been too long for her, and warmth ached between her thighs at the prospect of fulfilling a naughty fantasy of hers.
"Actually, it is perfect isn't?" She agreed with him. He made some sense to her just then, in that she realized that he was the perfect distraction. And if Ron ever found out then all the better!
That would teach him to flirt after all the girls, and stay out till late hours, and ruin their marriage because he wanted a lifestyle she could never indulge in. She wouldn't become a swinger for him, but it didn't mean he wanted to stay married to her if she didn't change her mind. The sad thing is Ronald thought he could convince her. He really believed that she would come around, that she would see that being sweet-hearts at a tender age had robbed them of experimenting like the rest of their friends had gotten a chance to do.
Now with the kids gone to Hogwarts for most of the year, Ron had made it clear that this is how he intended to spend the next parts of his adult life. And he expected her to fall in line eventually, and the gall of that damn Weasley! Did he just think he could cheat on her until she saw things his way? It certainly wasn't mapping the territory before she joined him in his excursions, as Ron had put it, more like blatant unapologetic cheating. As if it being out in the open finally made it ok, wasn't marrying another Gryffindor supposed to guarantee a marriage's fidelity?
Her anger settling a bit, she realized that if it didn't work out with Draco, she already disliked him, so what was there to lose? Friendship hardly! A drinking companion – as if! They'd only done this a few times, and all of it platonic, at least till now.
Completely unaware of what was going on inside her head, Draco sat back on his seat trying to over come several levels of shock.
"What?" He blurted out. He wasn't quite sure he'd heard her correctly.
Draco thought it had been a quick reversal of tune for her. She was so bloody stubborn most times, especially when it came to him; it couldn't have been that easy!
"I'm agreeing you idiot." She drawled, suckling at her drink again.
Hermione decided she was going to need more of her libations if she was going to go through with this half-cracked idea. Though she was loathed to admit to herself that she'd always wanted to know what it would be like to shag the infamous Draco Malfoy. Guiltily, she had to concede that on more than one occasion she had actually fantasized about having him between her thighs on his desk for a special overnight session of Inter-departmental collaboration.
"Sweet talk a fellow, Granger?" He snorted, downing the rest of his drink, before he seemingly conjured a few Galleons out of thin air. He really wished she didn't lick the creamy foam off the straw like that. It was drawing several leers. Although not his own, he did not leer, he simply admired. That's what it was when a Malfoy did something that might be considered something as a common, or as creepy as a "leer".
Hermione noted suspiciously that he paid more than enough to cover their tabs, and tip the elf. She looked at him warily, and he winked at her. That was decidedly creepy; he never winked at her!
"Why have you always called me Granger, even while I was married, did you see something I couldn't?" She huffed, resigning herself to playing along for now. If she wanted ruin the illusion, she'd just up and leave. And right now he wasn't making her feel lonely, so she supposed she could stay a few more minutes.
"Pretty much, Granger." He quipped amusedly. He'd heard of Weasley's infidelities long before Granger had discovered them. The first he heard of it had been when Weasley had shagged Pansy Flint nee Parkinson.
"How do you want to do this?" Hermione asked, suddenly apprehensive of the plan. Whatever he was calling it – Plan B, was it?
"Ah yes, Plan B, since obviously I must 'BE' crazy!"
"In the normal fashion of course," Draco scoffed, helping her slide off her seat, handing her, her handbag, "Unless you happen to know of other ways?"
"Are you suggesting that if such ways existed that I would know them?!" She hissed, her temper rising at his perceived insinuation that she was somehow a whore. Because, surely, that's why he was propositioning her like a common slag, and that was why he winked, and she should have known it!
A proposal like that, coming from a Wizard like him! And naturally, she brushed off the nagging feeling that it had nothing to do with the fact that an arrogant git like Malfoy could tell her marriage was doomed; he was just hateful little cur. Clearly, he was also suggesting that she was somehow lucky to attract any attention at all, what with having listened to her spill her guts only an hour ago about the prospect of becoming a divorced mother of two, complete with the non-existent sex life that went with being labeled as 'used goods'.
She really had a problem with labels, and the Wizard beside her was nothing if but a labeler, and the worst of the breed at that. What possessed her to ever talk to him?
Unaware of her inner turmoil, Draco happily straightened her out, helping her slip back into her work robes, and fastening the buttons for her. He was being quite gentlemanly, and again, it only served to unnerve her.
"Well, you are kind of a know-it-all," He smiled genuinely, "so you shouldn't be so surprised that your reputation has a way of preceding you."
"It does, doesn't it?" She sighed irritably, leveling a quiet glare at him.
"Don't worry," He soothed patronizingly, ignoring the sudden turn in her mood, "I never really bought into the idea of you really knowing all that much anyways."
She snorted, before heatedly whispering, "And then you want me to have my wicked ways with you! With talk like that I'm beginning to wonder what the hell is it you think we're going to do!"
"Aw, I knew it, Granger!" Draco laughed, "I knew you'd know there was more than just the one way! And I bet you don't disappoint do you? But, I bet I could teach you a thing, or a thousand, want to take that wager?"
"What I do know, and how good I am at doing it, will be none of your concern tonight, Sir." She said with a harried humph, before crossing her arms snugly under her bust, and refusing to follow him another step out of the tavern.
Eyeing her hungrily, like a wolf he supposed, Draco realized just then how badly he'd wanted her. But then again, a part of him always had, he'd just been good a keeping it hidden all this time. Not crossing paths with her often had only got him so far though.
"Do you promise to use that sort of tone in the bedroom? Because if you do, I have to say, I like the way you call me Sir." He winked again.
Draco had the night planned out. Hermione was going to give her address to him, he was going Apparate the two of them back to her flat, and once there, they would shag like angry bunnies. He'd already decided, and therefore it was going to happen. That's how these things went, he wanted it, it was his. She was free again, and he was well on his way to being liberated.
"I think I brushed you off, didn't I?" She hissed. "And you know why? Oh, because I just realized something - you're right!"
She laughed, snorting a little even at the absurdity of the situation. She came for a drink, not to become someone's pity fuck.
He simply looked at her flabbergasted. Was she actually saying he was right about something, and out loud, and in public where any ears could hear?
Ignoring the expected silence that followed, she continued, "Mark the day, Draco Malfoy, because I'm saying it now, you're right – I'm really not that smashed!"
"Does it really matter?" He scoffed, "I've decided, you decided, let's not ruin a good out-of-office collaboration because your prudish sensibilities have decided to kick back in."
"I'm not a prude!" Hermione ground out, upset that he used the very word Ron had when the two of them had finally called it quits.
"Then prove it!" Draco growled back. Clearly, the flush on her skin was being caused by more than just the liquor, she wanted him back too, he could tell, she was just being dense about her desires on purpose.
After years of having Witches make passes at him, he knew when one of them was interested. And if the fire in Granger's eyes happened to be predictive of the future, he was in for one hell of a time.
Without thinking she launched herself at him, kissing him forcefully. While snogging the senses out of him, she discreetly she slipped her hands into his robes to grope at his chest, before tweaking his nipples audaciously through the fine material of his oxford shirt.
With a low groan on Draco's part, she broke the kiss to stand back triumphant. A smirk now gracing her rosy lips, and the candlelight of the tavern now playing demurely off the blush of her cheeks, the surrounding glow saturating the curls framing her face – Merlin, she was a sight to behold!
"I think I'll need a bit more proof to go on, Granger. That exchange was far too brief to make any firm offers." Draco grinned dazedly.
"You're so greedy! Do you know what I do with greedy little prats like you?" She sneered.
"Take them home, and put their naughty little arses to bed, perhaps in your bed? It's just a suggestion." He said quite chipper, and with a careless shrug of his shoulders. It was slightly disconcerting for her.
"You really do just cut straight to the point, don't you?" She laughed; he really was looking so roguishly cute. Something was wrong with that thought, but she easily ignored it for now.
"And you're wife is walking away from you because why?" She asked, her voice dangerously close to being snotty.
"Low blow, I'm walking away from her, as you know."
"Right, tell me, how do I know she's not coming after me once she finds out that you've been digging some place other than in her garden?" Hermione snipped.
Her sobriety and reason fast returning, she'd guessed correctly that her tolerance had been building for some time now, no thanks in part because of how long her own divorce was taking.
Draco was intrigued that she was worried; it wasn't like they were cheating, not by Slytherin standards really.
"She's not really all that smart. She may dabble in megalomania, like some horrible hobby gone wrong, all sticks and glue, and glitter -loads of garish glint actually-" he groaned, "but she's too stupid to figure out that I'm the next big thing, and that you don't have to tear the world apart to be in power. And we've since long ago stopped being –" Draco trailed, intent on seducing his quasi-acquaintance with a feathery caress across the span of her soft cheek. " – Well, you know intimate, there's been none of that for the better part of a year. See you're not the only one – lonely, disappointed, looking for a little consolation from a friendly shoulder."
She shuddered at the touch, she maybe sobering up, but it wasn't that fast-acting, if she'd had all her faculties about her, she'd have suppressed the reaction to something so simple as a small meaningless caress from a Wizard like him.
"It's amazing to me that you'd even think that we could ever just do this." She mumbled. "Like you're seeing me for the first time as something more than what I have always been to someone like you."
"Oh, yeah. I can't have ever noticed you were a girl, could I?" Draco laughed, now she was just being amusing. She never did seem like the type to fish for compliments.
"Granger, I'd noticed your assets since Fourth Year. And, really, who hadn't by the time of the Yule Ball?"
"You're just really that superficial!" She balked; completely incensed that he was so infuriatingly dense, and self-centered.
"Omigod! You moron! I'm talking about your deranged Aunt torturing me! Your father setting the Basilisk loose by proxy of a madman's diary! I'm talking about you, Draco Malfoy, being the head of Umbridge's inquisitorial squad, capturing us, and aiding the really bad people, and power tripping just like you claim your megalomaniac wife is doing!" She balled her fists to her side, she could deck him.
"Ugh," she grunted disgustedly, "And your father again at the Ministry, no doubt aiming to kill a few of us that night. And then the tower! And Bill Weasley! And to a lesser extent Neville!" She huffed. "And just last week you sent me a missive that singed my fingers when it exploded into tiny bits after I'd read it, it even scorched my desk! Seriously, was cursed fire really necessary for a simple memo?"
"I'll buy you a new one. And because the document was classified, I'll even find a way to charge back the department. See, everyone wins here."
Her hands on her hips she let him have it. "When I said that you could think we'd do this, ever, I was saying there's a lot of history to overcome! I don't know if I can take this lightly. And I'm standing right here, albeit wobbly, and I'm still being rational. And hello – still quite intoxicated here! And you! You're apparently all-too-able to take this as flippantly as anything else that has ever been handed to you!"
"That's quite the mouth full." Draco remarked dryly.
"I know!" She grimaced, her hand coming up to brush the curls off her face, her eyes scrunched in frustration "Clearly, we're too drunk to be having this conversation."
"I think you mean the opposite." He smiled.
"Obviously, that you say that means that I am indeed too drunk!" She droned sarcastically, trying to pull her back into a ponytail. "You're just playing little word games now."
"But I thought you were ranting about history, and being rational." Draco said calmly, knowing just how to handle her.
"I don't know what I was saying!" Hermione hiccupped, her brows furrowed in thought.
"I see." Draco replied, his tone smug. It sounded too smug by Hermione's standards.
"You!" She raged, her voice on the verge of ranting again.
"Now, now." Draco smiled, being completely charmed by her uppity nature at the moment, always so quick to retort this one. Hmmm, maybe he was too intoxicated as well? That had to be a bad sign when one is charmed by something a tad brassy for one's otherwise pristine tastes, and said 'taste of brassy' happens to be a lot more intoxicated than you are, and goes on complaining about something, or other, being a very bad idea.
Or not, it was a very stupid thought. So he dismissed it.
"Don't you try to placate me! You blasted Slytherin!" She barked, pointing her finger again, as if that slender finger would shake all the things she had to accuse him of right out of her, each jab in his direction the start of a new reason that "he was this", or "he was that", or "why he was this and that, and another thing".
Pity, he needed to change her attitude. Smiling deviously, he applied the charm.
"Did you say, 'Blast you, come hither, then'?" He joked, his features looking very boyish in that moment.
Catching her hand, and kissing the open palm that laid pliant in his, he whispered, "Well, I will, but only if you let me, Hermione."
"You can't do that."
"Can't do what?" He asked innocently.
"You know what! Don't stand there and make with the puppy eyes! And the smirk, my Gods, do you stand in the mirror and work away at the muscle tone just so it stays sculpted like that?"
"You think it's sculpted?" He grinned.
"I really don't know what I'm going to do with you!"
"I have a few suggestions." His smile predatory again.
"Why can't you get a proper mistress, Malfoy?"
"Who said I wasn't trying, Granger?"
"That's it. I'm catching the Knight Bus, and – " She leaned in, her voice final, "I'm leaving!"
"Something I suggested." Draco said smugly, his grin the right kind of lopsided, "See, I do make good suggestions."
"Oh, now you're just being obvious for the sake of it!" She seethed.
Walking away from him to the door, she wanted to quickly escape. She realized that for anyone who cared to notice, she was making a scene, actually, they were making a scene.
"Fine. Do you even have enough for the fare?" Came his mischievously voice from behind her.
"You better not have done what you seem to be implying!" Hermione shouted once they were outside. Turning to face him she was growing angrier by the second, she checked her handbag to see if her money was still there. It wasn't.
"And what is it I've done, now?" He drawled, checking his watch.
"If I do not have my coinage returned by the count of five, I'm going to do something so awful, it'll even singe your wife's perfect hair."
"That harpy?" Draco laughed, "Good luck shagging me that rotten, Granger, Merlin knows I certainly welcome you to try. Astoria's a frigid zombie in the sack, if you must know. But somehow I get the feeling you're far from being something so pathetic, and passionless as my soon-to-be ex-wife."
Her cheeks flushed. He certainly was being persistent bugger wasn't he? And a labeler, he was being that too, she mustn't forget that. Who only knows what he'd call her in the morning.
"Why do you have to be this way?" She whimpered, taking a defeated seat on the curb.
"I can't believe you're going to pin all the blame on me, look at yourself!"
"What!?" She asked outraged, and confused. Here was the prat who took her money when he was practically bathing in his own everyday, and to what end, to shag her? And was that really all he hoped to gain tonight?
Looking up at him she could see he was leering, which in her mind was the same sort of creepy as sneering. Wait, was sneering considered creepy? She was confused again. The spin cycle portion of the evening clearly was wearing off, but it seems the logic portion of brain function was still vacationing somewhere just beyond reach.
"You're the brightest witch of the generation, you figure it out!"
"Where the hell is that bus?" She tsked, changing the subject. "You know it's a shame Shunpike was a Death Eater, that bus never ran so timely as when he was apart of its operations."
"Oh, so that's how we're going to spend the rest of this time waiting?" Draco sighed, his voice aggravated.
"What?!" She bleated. She was the one who stomped out here, and she hadn't actually invited him out to join her, either. Of course, this time he really did have her confused, and then naturally the obligatory anger had settled in not far behind. He was insinuating something – she just knew it.
"Death Eaters, don't play stupid. It doesn't look believable on you."
"Oh, grow up." She was tired of his sore spot. Seriously, the way he went after Death Eaters now, no one would ever mistake him for being one.
"I have, and don't say you haven't noticed." Draco said smugly.
"So that's how you'll have us spending the rest of this time waiting!" She yelled. "News flash, Malfoy, I'm not all that interested at the moment. Come back when you're like, dead. I'd say wait till I was dead, but you'd probably find a way to kill me, and then rape my corpse just on principle alone."
He knew he should have been offended, but he laughed! Merlin help him, she had him in stitches. Wheezing for breath he laughed harder before he could control himself long enough to sputter rather ungracefully, "Don't! Gods, please! Don't flatter yourself!"
At the look of indignation on her face, he convulsed into another fit of giggles. Her shock pealing through her, she was outraged. "Are you giggling?"
"I don't giggle, I snicker."
"You giggled! Like a First Year with a Pygmy Puff!" She snorted, laughing as his face turned sour. "Oh, don't be so put out, it was almost adorable!"
Seizing his chance to play to her agreeable sensibilities, Draco added, "I supposed it could have sounded like a giggle to the untrained ear."
"Aw, does ickle Draky-kins get bashful when someone calls him adorable." She teased him.
"Oh, wait, don't flatter yourself!" She deadpanned.
"Touché." He gritted, he laughter gone now. She was not being amusing anymore, and if left unchecked, it was going to be a problem.
"Please, I'm becoming rapidly less inebriated, not stupid, Draco." She said with a note of authority in her voice.
"Clearly, you're becoming less inebriated." He rumbled, repressing the laughter that was fighting to break through again, as well as the urge to comment on her phrasing. Maybe there was nothing to worry about, she was back to being her charming little stuck-up self.
Unfortunately for Draco, he didn't realize he was being far too agreeable, in addition to sporting a very genuine-looking smile. She noticed these odd things, and then it clicked.
"Oh, you! I wasn't stupid to begin with, so therefore I can't become less of something I never was!" Hermione sniffed haughtily.
Looking at his watch again, he wondered how long he could repress the signal she was sending for the Knight Bus. He could only keep these security bubbles up for so long without his wand. And stealing her coin purse when he'd helped her with her robes had been only so good enough to get him started on the dampening spell when they'd walked out into the street. Her brief search through her handbag was all the chance he'd needed to be sneaky, but now he was running out time.
"I like you a lot better when you aren't being such a bitch, and instead being the lonely hearts welcoming committee." Draco sighed, breaking the tranquil that had settled over them. "I think I'd prefer hugs, and flower based accessories that get you laid."
"It's spelled l-e-i."
"Oh," He mused, "that makes more sense now. Actually, no it really doesn't."
"Did you ever take any lessons on Muggle cultures, ever, or maybe crack open a book on the subject?"
"I don't like your presumption, and unlike you, I wasn't aware that my reputation demanded I know everything." He snickered.
She was really amusing tonight; she had to have known he'd never done such a thing in his entire life. He'd shifted his opinion to not killing, and subjugating Muggles, as well as forgoing reordering the very fabric of Wizarding Society, but that was all he was willing to ever do, and really, wasn't that enough?
If he ever saw Deputy Minister one day, it would be to be the Minister's spokesperson to the public. The public being magical, ergo Muggles. And if he ever held the coveted role of Minister of Magic, he'd have departments to manage that kind of stuff so he wouldn't have to bother himself with it. He was good at delegating, his resume more than proved the point.
"So you really want to spend the night in my company do you?" She said after a few moments of silence between them. Her eyes shifting warily to his.
"Why am I out here if not to pester you into doing just that?"
"Want to come back to my place for a night cap then? I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm going to need a few more drinks."
"As well as I." He agreed.
"The more the merrier." There was a somber note to her voice.
"Indeed." He nodded sagely. Getting himself off was ok, enough, but having a hot Witch wrapped around his waist was much better. And he hadn't been much of a cheater, actually besides Astoria, and his own beautiful hands, it been a great long while since anyone else had touched him. Cheating was a good way to tarnish his public image, and short of a divorce, there was little way out of that clap trap.
He also he the opinion that Granger was not just any Witch. She was someone that didn't even really like him all that much, but if he convinced her to do this, then just for the briefest of moments he'd know she really didn't hate him. That she could let a person like him into her little world, a place he knew that all the money and power in this life would never win him entrance to, that would be a boost of self-esteem, and fulfill a fantasy he'd long harbored. Honestly, he couldn't help his vanity at times, but he'd accepted this about himself a long time ago.
"Ok." She pronounced after awhile. Leaping up to her feet, she commanded, "Apparate us back to my flat."
Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered her address into his ear, before giving him a brazen look that dared him to take to make good on his offer.
A/N: For now I have this planned as two-shot. There's no beta either, this was something I was struck by randomly. I think it was Draco Malfoy's birthday this past week, let's dedicate the future smut to that, shall we?