A/N: Drabble written for pokeystar at the Anti-Valentine's Day drabble-a-thon issued by the LJ community dramionedrabble on Valentine's Day 2011.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. The author of the following story (which is me) has no connection to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Books or Warner Bros., Inc. – No money is being made from this, no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Draco Malfoy was a patient man. He had always known that if he waited, things would come to him naturally; like moths to a flame, because nothing could defy patience. Accordingly, he had decided to start his career at the Ministry of Magic from the very bottom – not the Department of Mysteries, but the ever-growing Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Draco scowled at the door bearing the Ministry insignia, his few possessions levitating in a box beside his head. It had taken the family lawyer months bordering on a year to get him the job and for that reason alone he was not only going to wipe that scowl off his face once he stepped inside, but he would also be relentless in his efforts for the reformed Ministry of Magic.
"They will expect you to feel contrite," his mother had said, "and they won't allow for any mistakes."
"I know," Draco had replied.
He did know, and so did she. The puzzlement his mother had shown when he had insisted on obtaining the job derived from something else entirely.
Draco stared at the name plate under the Ministry insignia: Hermione Granger, Head of Department.
She was his other reason for wanting the job, she was the goal he had been working towards for months; his wand quivered slightly in his hand as a fresh wave of determination hit him. She would have read it in the papers, she would be on the other side of that door waiting for his arrival, she would be the one expecting him to 'feel contrite', but she would make his unfaltering efforts in the Ministry worthwhile.
He pushed the door forward with his free hand and walked into the main office.
"– whatever he says! We are running out of time and I won't stand for anymore negligence!"
"Yes, but –"
"Carmichael, if you are even thinking of contradicting me again, you will carry out Scamander's work yourself!"
The young man fell silent at once, lowering his head over some paperwork. Draco didn't care much for him as his attention was focused on the incensed witch that was now grabbing a couple of stray memos that had come in with him. Her eyes were glowering, her posture tense, her breathing uneven. Draco thought that the air crackled with expectancy around her and it stirred something in him, a frenzied desire that urged him to make his presence known, obliging her to turn her heated gaze onto him.
"Granger," he said at last, his voice no better than a croak.
He relished the minimal amount of time it took her to look up; the tension between them was one of the things he had been looking forward to. Yet, the smirk of triumph that had started to form on his lips was short-lived for her whole figure relaxed. Gone was the fiery, intense look of fury and, instead, she gave him a polite smile and released the memos she had been clenching into obliteration with her hands.
"Ah, Malfoy," she said conversationally. "How perfectly delightful."
She fiddled with something in the pocket of her robes and strode forward to where he was standing. Feeling slightly more optimistic, Draco waved his wand so that the box hovering beside his head would gradually fall at his feet. He had rehearsed their first conversation (or squabble, as he affectionately referred to in his mind), he knew what he would say and was prepared for whatever she would throw at him. He had even anticipated that at some point they would have to move into her private office because she wouldn't want the staff to witness. It was perfect.
"Now that you're here, you can make yourself useful," she said in the same relaxed tone.
Only his box stood between them now, a barrier for pure formality in Draco's opinion.
"I assume you know what this is?" She handed him a bright red pen and then pointed at the young man behind them. "Get Carmichael to fill you in on the situation, you're covering for Rolf Scamander today."
In two swift moves, she had skirted around him and grabbed her cloak from the coat stand.
"Right, I'm off to find that slacker. Tell Demelza I expect to see her report on my desk by the time I'm back."
And she exited the office with her wand already in her hand. The door slowly clicked shut of its own accord.
"I hate you," Draco whispered, the incipit of his rehearsed speech still on his tongue.
Carmichael looked up from his paperwork. "Yeah, don't we all..."
PROMPT: "She's gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen." – Say Anything.