Edited.
So, pretty straight forward: Hermione is sick and tired of Draco's arrogance, but can an irritating and infuriating- and let's face it- spunky man give her what she really needs?
Answer: Hell Yes!
Combine the most annoyingly cocky man with the most responsible woman ever with a dash of sexual tension and you have the best office romance! EVER!
Rated M.
Usual disclaimer, yadda yadda yadda- thanks for reminding me I don't own Draco Malfoy :(
Review.
Hermione's POV
God damn it! She looked at her watch: late again.
She sighed bitterly, if she kept up the late nights and even later mornings she'll be demoted to work in the depressingly dingy office of Muggle Relations. As if she could go any lower.
Her heels clicked and clacked on the highly polished floor of the Ministry of Magic, the steady trickle of water from the fountain slowly making her more agitated. She growled as people kept bumping into her. She roughly shouldered her way through the mob and had to run to the elevator as the door started to close. She shoved her briefcase between the doors to keep them open and squeezed herself into the small cube. The stench of body odour was everywhere and she felt gross as people kept rubbing up against her. The lift slowly went up, stopping at each floor to let people out and only giving her a moment of blissfully-fresh air before more people crammed in.
She leant as close to the elevator wall as possible and mentally counted the stops left to her stop. Nine. She groaned and people turned to look at her. It didn't matter anyway, she was already late and Mr Zabini was going to have her ass. It's not like she didn't do the work- she was the best- but she just wasn't very punctual and she was running out of chances.
The metallic voice sang sweetly around the elevator, "Department of Mysteries." And the doors slid open and Hermione practically threw herself into the open hallway.
A few people sniggered at her sudden appearance and dishevelled hair as they walked passed. She glared at them until they were gone then bolted to the ladies room to assess the damage.
Deeming that her hair was no more bushier than usual, she quickly fixed her clothes, checked her teeth, then ran to her office. The lunch woman, Millicent, carted around the usual high fat, low food quality goodies in her trolley and Hermione grabbed a sugary, Twinkie-like food object off the top.
"Late again?" Millicent asked in her bored drawl.
"Uh hmm," Was Hermione's muffled reply, half the food already in her mouth.
"See you tomorrow, same time." Millicent said, slowly moving down the aisle.
It was the usual routine, and Hermione knew it well. Except she wouldn't usually choose such a high calorie breakfast, but she just couldn't be bothered keeping to her diet. She craved preservatives. And lots of them. Bye bye nicely toned body, hello life of luxury and freedom. Yeah right, she would probably spend three hours in the gym working off the fatty snack food she was stuffing into her mouth.
She sat in her small cubicle and absently brushed the crumbs falling from her packed mouthful off her skirt.
"Granger," Came the agitated voice of her boss.
She groaned silently. Please, don't fire me, she chanted over and over again in her head. Her eyes suddenly went wide, realising he was not catching her in a very flattering position. Tears stood in her eyes as she forced the huge lump of mushy dough down her throat.
"Granger," He called again.
Blaise Zabini stuck his head over the flimsy wall of her cubicle and looked down at her. He shook his head exasperatedly as she looked up at him guiltily.
"How can someone so smart, be so incredibly stupid?" He asked out loud.
Hermione hung her head and bit her lip, "I'm sorry I was late today." She murmured.
"No, not today," Zabini said, "Everyday." He corrected her.
Hermione inwardly winced.
"It's a shame too because your work is impeccable. And everyday your fellow employees manage to come to work on time, but for whatever reason, you can't seem to." He told her.
"Well, sir-" She tried to explain.
He held up a hand, "I don't care about your excuses." He said.
"Yes, sir." Hermione hung her head again.
"You may not like this job, but tough luck; it's your job and you must be on time. I've reached the end of my tether. And it's against my better judgement, but I just believe that you really aren't cut out for this job, even though I know you can do so much better." He shook his head.
"I understand," She said in a small voice.
"So, pack up your things Granger," Hermione sniffled and stood up, "I'm promoting you."
Hermione's head shot up, her mouth open, "Huh?"
Zabini smirked, "I think that if you have more pressure on you, you'll work better. So what's better than working as the secretary of the Head Auror?" He asked.
"Who's the Head Auror?" Hermione asked.
"You'll see." Zabini's smirk grew wider.
Hermione was bemused. She had slacked off… and been promoted? It was irrational. But she was up for the challenge; she would prove that she was still the little brainiac that everyone knew from Hogwarts. She carried her box of possessions to the elevator and pushed the button. As she waited, she smiled.
She smiled all the way to the Auror's office. As she stood in the doorway, she spotted four people she knew and waved. Neville, Luna, Cho and Pansy had surprised looks on their faces as they walked over to Hermione.
"What are you doing here, 'Mione?" Neville asked, his face screwed up in confusion.
"I was promoted!" Hermione exclaimed.
"To an Auror?" Neville asked, bewildered.
"No," Hermione laughed, "Secretary for the Head Auror."
Neville glanced uneasily at Luna, who was trying to conceal a smile. Pansy smirked and Cho bit her lip.
"What?" Hermione asked nervously, "Who is it?"
"You're not going to like it." Cho said.
"GRANGER!" A voice shouted.
Hermione jumped, "Yes?" She asked, afraid to turn around.
"Zabini told me you would be here ten minutes ago. He may be lenient with your irregular work hours, but I will not tolerate tardiness." It was the most condescending, confident voice Hermione had ever heard.
She turned around and almost dropped her box, "Malfoy?" She squeaked.
"That's Mr Malfoy, to you, Granger." He smirked.
"B-but…" Malfoy the Head Auror? She tried to ignore the irony of that statement.
"I don't have all day Granger, either spit it out or shut up and I'll show you where you'll be working." Malfoy snapped.
Hermione clamped her lips together.
"Good." He said patronizingly to her.
He walked passed her and she sent a pleading glance to the others, who all just shrugged.
She walked behind Malfoy with a miserable look on her face. Karma: it was karma. It was the only thing she could think of. There was no way she was going to be able to last long working under Malfoy. He had made it his mission in life to torment her in school and now it would be no different; no matter how much he had changed.
"You will be at work on time. You will complete all work I set you. You will not ask questions unless it's important. And you will not bother me unless it's important. Understood?" Malfoy asked briskly as they stopped in front of his office.
"Yes," Hermione muttered sullenly under her breath.
"Yes, what?" Malfoy asked, still smirking.
Hermione scowled at him, "Yes, sir." She said.
Malfoy smiled, "That wasn't too hard now was it?"
Hermione ignored him, "Where's my office?" She asked.
Malfoy made a grand sweeping gesture with his arm, allowing her to walk on. She moved passed him and caught a whiff of his cologne, soft and masculine: it made her knees weak. She had never understood the phrase "smellgasm" that some of her female friends had giggled about (an orgasm provoked through the sense of smell) until she very nearly had one. She pushed any and all thoughts of him and his nice smell from her mind and stepped into his luxurious office. She noted that it was done up in Slytherin colours. Bad habits die hard, she guessed.
Thick, silky green curtains blocked the light from the window and a homely lamp illuminated the dark green walls and leather chair behind his mahogany desk. Stacks of paper, recently sorted through, littered his desk.
She brought her thought away from his office and looked around for her own. She grimaced. All she had was a small desk crammed in the entranceway to his office.
"That's it?" She asked unenthusiastically.
"What did you expect?" Malfoy asked, highly amused.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe something larger than a shoebox that I could actually fit in to." She said sarcastically.
He looked her up and down, his eyebrow raised, "I have absolute faith that you can squeeze your slim hips through, Granger. Stop whinging and get to work." He said.
"I would if you would give me some work to do." Hermione said irritably.
Malfoy held one finger up; he disappeared into his office and returned with a stack of paperwork. He dropped them heavily onto her puny desk.
He smiled at her, "There you go. I want them ordered alphabetically and by date. I expect them on my desk by tomorrow." He told her.
Her mouth was gaping, she was sure of it, "By tomorrow?" She exclaimed.
"Yes, Granger: by tomorrow." Malfoy told her.
He went into his office and closed the door. Hermione looked down at her desk glumly; she flicked through the first couple of papers then sighed. She was going to be there all night.
Hermione stared at the stack of files strewn on her desk, gnawing on her bottom lip as she thought.
How could Malfoy be an Auror? Let alone the Head Auror. It was just stupid, absolutely ridiculous. Back in Hogwarts, he basically had the words, 'Death Eater' and 'asshole' stamped to his forehead. Even though Voldemort was dead and the Death Eater's were gone- but not forgotten- how could Malfoy score enough ass-kissing points to even step foot in the Ministry of Magic, when his father was one of the most notorious Death Eater ever? Lucius Malfoy had been very good at gaining the trust of the brainless politicians and had had a lot of power in the Ministry before he had been found out. Did his son develop the same ambition?
Making up her mind, she stood up and marched into Malfoy's office, without knocking.
"I don't understand how this could happen!" She exploded, waving her arms in the air.
Malfoy looked up at her, confused and irritated; a phone receiver on his ear.
"I'll have to call you back." Malfoy sighed and hung up the phone.
Hermione was only slightly abashed by interrupting him before she pushed aside any empathic thoughts and looked him challengingly in the eye.
She was momentarily distracted, however, when the scene she had interrupted caught up with her.
"You have a telephone?"
Malfoy rubbed a hand calmingly over his face as his teeth gritted in annoyance.
"Granger, no matter what you think of me, I am a professional," Hermione snorted and Malfoy ignored her, "And therefore I won't let my personal disgust for you influence our working conditions. But you're making it very difficult. You are a great employee: you're intelligent and proud, but I still hate you to high heaven. You've been my secretary for twenty minutes and I already want to throttle you. So for employment and future employment sake I suggest you leave this office and complete the work I set you."
Hermione stared at him, half intimidated and half infuriated. She settled for the latter.
"Don't you dare threaten me, Malfoy." Hermione whispered angrily, her blood pumped hotly in her veins, "We're not in school anymore, you can't just assume that because your daddy's got a lot of money people will immediately bend to your will. I won't take your criticism or your demands. Because you're not the big man on campus anymore: your daddy's in prison for murdering hundreds of people and to everyone that knew you, they will always see you for the slimy little ferret you've always been."
Malfoy seemed unaffected by her rebuke; he leaned back in his chair as he surveyed her. She was a little unsettled that he wasn't upset or angry.
"I don't know what's scarier: that you finally stood up for yourself or that you know me so well." He said sarcastically.
She gave him a flat stare, "How can someone so incredibly self-absorbed and arrogant be an Auror?"
Malfoy mockingly buffed his fingernails against his chest, "I've got talent."
"Yeah, you've got the talent to piss me off." Hermione muttered.
"And you love it," Malfoy replied flippantly, inspecting his nails without looking at her.
"What? You- Just… What? My god you're the most infuriating person on the planet." She growled.
"Well at least I'm more interesting than Dumb and Dumber." He smirked.
Hermione raised her eyebrow, "Huh?"
"Dumb and Dumber? You know: the Weasel and Scar-head?" Malfoy said.
She scowled at him, "Don't insult my friends. If it wasn't for them, you would have died in the war. Voldemort wanted your head on a silver platter."
Again, Malfoy wasn't fazed, he shrugged, "Whatever. I'm still more interesting than them."
"You're a jackass." Hermione said frankly.
"Actually, no I'm not a male donkey, but good try. Think more: walks on two legs, can talk."
"Bastard."
"Nope, I was legitimate… I think."
"Asshole."
"Sorry, wrong again: that would be the hole in a person's ass. But keep trying."
"Bully."
"I help people."
"I hate you."
"Mutual. Except I don't hate me, I hate you. I love me."
"Smartass."
"Objectively I would say I am quite smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass."
"Dickhead."
"That's anatomically incorrect. The dick's a little lower on the body. I can show you if you want."
Hermione wanted to gag, "If you do, I promise you will miss it, because I'll send it to Timbuktu."
"Yeah, that would hurt," Malfoy grimaced.
"And you wouldn't want to disappoint the ladies. I'm sure your screwing half the women in the office." Hermione said spitefully to the notorious lover of women: the Slytherin Sex God.
Malfoy scowled.
Hermione noticed and raised an eyebrow, she smirked, "Ooh, did I hit a nerve? Tell me, whose better, Pansy or Luna?" She mocked him scathingly.
"Luna's married: to Neville," Malfoy said in a flat voice, "And I divorced Pansy last year."
"Oh," Hermione said softly, a little confused, she shrugged, "So are you screwing the other women in the office?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Just because you can't get any doesn't mean I'm going to tell you about my sex life."
Hermione gaped at him, "I get plenty, thank-you-very-much." She muttered self-consciously.
"Oh, yeah? When was the last time Weasley gave you a good roll in the sack?" He spat.
Hermione's eyes widened, "I broke up with Ron three years ago."
"Three years? No wonder you're so uptight." Malfoy said.
"How dare you?" Hermione yelled.
"Me? You come in here and insult me in every way possible when really you're just jealous." Malfoy told her, his voice rising.
"Jealous?" Hermione scoffed, "Of what? Your life? Please, I couldn't feel sorrier for you."
"See, you say that but you would love to have the freedom and success to do whatever you wanted." Malfoy said.
"To do whatever I wanted? What, like, screw whoever I wanted? I can." She said defensively.
Malfoy snorted, "Ok, yeah, you know, homeless people have more style than you."
Hermione's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, "You-"
"I mean," Malfoy interrupted her, "Where did you get that blouse? Your grandma? And, I know you're a conservative person, but come on! That pleated skirt of yours comes halfway down your calves, show a little leg woman, Christ!"
"What has my fashion sense got anything to do wi-" Hermione started to screech.
"And what is up with your hair?" Malfoy asked, Hermione stopped and stared him dead in the eye, daring him to continue, her wand hand twitched, "You could nest birds in that mop!"
"That's it!" Hermione whipped out her wand.
Before, however, her lips could form a curse, papers went soaring and she was sent flying back into the wall behind her, the force of the magic winded her. She tried to move but found herself held tightly by Malfoy who had suddenly appeared in front of her.
"Get your filthy hands off me." She gritted out.
Both Malfoy's hands pinned her arms by her sides, with his own body pushed roughly against hers to keep her still. She berated herself for her flushed cheeks. She noticed that each of her deep breaths made her breasts push against his hard, warm chest. She started to feel hot.
"You know, Granger, if you want to impress your boss, cursing him is not the way to go." Malfoy said calmly.
"Like I need to impress you," Hermione growled, she squirmed fitfully against him for a minute before she gave up, she looked up at him, "How did you do that anyway?"
Malfoy shrugged, "Wandless magic."
Hermione tried not to feel jealous… or impressed.
"Let me go." She muttered.
"No," Malfoy replied.
"I said let me go, Malfoy." Hermione said.
"And I said no, Granger." Malfoy told her.
They had a moment, or at least that's what Hermione thought it was. You know the kind. Only their breathing to be heard as everything goes silent. Looking up into each other's eyes, their defenses falling for that second when its only them and the rest of the world drops away and they both realize, almost instantaneously, that they're so close. That all they needed would be for Malfoy to dip his head just that little bit and close the inch left between them. They could feel each other's warm breath and as Malfoy's head sank, Hermione's stretched up; seeking that contact.
Unfortunately it was brief, cut off just as the feather light contact was promising to deepen. There was a knock at the door and Malfoy stepped back so quickly that he rammed painfully into his desk.
"Come in," He croaked.
Both Hermione and Malfoy tried not to look too guilty as Neville came into the office. Neville seemed to realize that he had interrupted something and gave him an exaggerated wink; Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"What?" Malfoy asked gruffly.
Neville coughed, sensing the tension, "I've got those reports you wanted." He said.
"That's all?" Malfoy asked.
"Um, yeah," Neville replied, unsure.
"Thank you, leave now." Malfoy said briskly.
Hermione was suddenly horribly embarrassed, "I've got to get started on that work you needed." She said without looking at him and slipped out the door with Neville before Malfoy could protest.
Malfoy sighed.
Review me.