A/N: Written for Battle Royale prompt Competition at Harry Potter Fanfiction challenges forum.

Prompt: "This is my last offer. I don't want to be with you. Just put that down and leave me alone."

Acknowledgement: My amazing Beta who wants to split the cookie cost- TheNextFolchart

Inspiration: A mix of Grey's Anatomy, a sudden craving for dramione and the determination to write something Non-Marauders (for once).

Better Man

Hermione stiffened and sighed internally as she felt the inevitable presence behind her. She quickened her pace, but he was faster than she was, even when she weren't restricted by her uncomfortable work robes. She had almost reached the fireplace and was ready to floo back to her home, away from all the pressure at work and worries of the new project and most importantly, away from him.

(One)

Hermione Granger was smart and hardworking, and she'd earned her place up at the top of the professional ladder. She was the best at her job, no doubt about it. And that was precisely what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

Hermione was the Head of International Magical Cooperation; he was one the finest Aurors British Ministry could spare. When the French Minister had owled them expressing his desire to visit Britain, Hermione had made it her personal agenda to ensure his comfort and safety. Draco, however, entered the picture after the Minister had mysteriously (and suspiciously, at least in Hermione's mind) died. It had created quite a stir among the papers, but for people like her, people working behind the scenes, it was one the most exhausting periods of their careers.

She would've preferred Ron to be assigned to the case but she knew that was wishful thinking. Ron worked on the field, with Harry. Draco, on the other hand, was a self-professed "man of wit," and he spent most of his time sitting back and planning things from afar. They both knew that wasn't the real reason. They both knew that most Aurors didn't trust him to have their back on field. But Hermione wasn't one to question the workings of Auror department, and Draco enjoyed the safety provided by his desk, so they both continued on the case in benign indifference.

The Case of the Dead Minister was closed soon enough, and they managed to convince the French Ministry that their leader had died of health problems, but even though the countries were at peace, Hermione was at war with herself. Because when they had started working together - on that very first day he'd been assigned to her case - he asked her for one thing: a chance.

She hadn't said no.

And they'd hit it off right from the start. The awkward walking-on-eggshells-around-each-other phase barely lasted a day. Even when she looked back to their friendship before they stopped being friends, all she could remember was that they'd had plenty of fun. She considered him as a very good friend.

(For Draco, it was something so much more.)

(Two)

The pouring rain finally cleared up by the time Hermione was ready to go leave work for the day. She waited in the queue by the visitor's entrance, choosing to walk back home.

"Hey! Granger!" Draco grinned at her as he spotted her and fell into step beside her. Someone behind them grumbled at Draco for cutting the line, but they ignored the complaint. In the past, she might have insisted Draco stand in his place at the end of the line, but now she stepped aside for him to fit in a single file before her.

"Draco," she acknowledged him in response. They hadn't talked much since they'd finished their case, other than an occasional greeting. He didn't look any different than usual (but for Draco Malfoy, usual was plenty different). His blonde hair fell in his eyes, and Hermione clutched her bag more tightly to resist the urge to put it in place.

"How have you been? Anything exciting?" he asked, walking out in the sun with her, unaware of her twitching palm.

"Same old, same old. They want to give another shot at Triwizard Tournament - the idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "What about you- any thrilling cases?"

"Nah," he said. "But we have this ball thing coming up - Annual Aurors Gala or something like that."

"Sounds like fun."

"It's going to be boring. And it will involve socializing."

"Aah! Socializing! Now that we can't handle, can we?" she replied with a smirk.

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated Granger." She laughed lightly, placing a soft hand on his muscled shoulder.

"What is wrong with socializing?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing," he admitted, his eyes not meeting hers. "It's just that no one prefers to do it with me."

"Oh, Draco." She said his name so softly, and he felt like it was safe in her mouth, between her lips.

"Should I ask Ron or Harry to talk to you?" she offered.

"No, it's okay. They are hotshot Aurors and they probably have other people to interact with."

"Are you sure?" she asked again. "Because I can withhold sex from Ron 'til he talks to you."

He laughed loudly, causing some people to turn around on the street. "I would love for you to do that," he said, eyes shining wildly.

"To ask Ron to talk to you?"

"No!" He shook his head, still chortling "To withhold sex."

"Prat!" she retorted, grinning. "And where the hell are you taking me?" she asked as he steered them left in a street that was decidedly opposite from her home.

"The Leaky Cauldron, Granger. Ever walked in here?" he asked, firmly guiding her by the elbows, not allowing her to escape.

"Of course!" She tugged at her arm and rolled her eyes.

"I mean have you walked in here from the other side- from the Diagon Alley- without Apparating or using the floo?"

"No," she admitted, rubbing her elbows where red spots were starting to appear.

"Come now, butterbeer is on me," he offered, walking her inside.

Once seated properly with their fingers wrapped around the hot drinks, Draco resumed their conversation to where they had left off. He could feel a lump in his throat but he had pondered over this for quite some time and he was willing to take his risks. He had missed the familiarity of her office, of pondering over files in the middle of the night, of drinking tea at an alarming rate lest they fall asleep. Now that his job was done and he was back in the Auror's Department, he felt empty and lonely. They had grown so close in such a short time. She had entered his life like lightning in the rain and he was crippled now. He couldn't go back to the dark without missing her.

"You know Hermione," he began, cutting across something that she was saying. He hadn't been paying attention, his mind forming and practicing the words.

"I miss you."

She smiled in surprise - Draco Malfoy wasn't known for his verbal emotional display.

"All right in there?" she asked, tapping his forehead.

"My head is fine. I just hate going to Auror's balls and parties and celebratory drinks because no one in that department talks to me. I am an ex-Death Eater, why would they bother to talk to me?" he said, watching helplessly as the emotions inside of him spilled into words before he could comprehend what was happening.

"And ever since I've started working at Ministry, no one has bothered with actually being nice to me, especially the aurors. I'm a living example of everything they are against."

"Draco, it's not lik- "

"Hermione, you know it's true. I'm used to it. I just want you to know –and if you breathe a word of this to anyone you will regret it to no ends- that you helped me. You gave me a chance and I thank you for that." He met her eyes and she smiled.

"Anytime, Draco."

"So Hermione." He took a deep breath. "I like you a lot. Will you go out with me?"

(Three)

Hermione stared long and hard in her mirror, glaring at her hair in case it threatened to fall out of place. The last thing she needed was a bad hairdo. The silver dress robes shimmered softly against her body. Her face glowed with the makeup she had applied - light but effective. Ron would be around to pick her up any moment now.

She tried to talk herself out of her nervousness, but she couldn't. After Draco had confessed his feelings for her, she had walked out on him and very carefully avoided him. She couldn't give in to his affections. She loved Ron, for Merlin's sake; they had been dating for nearly a year and a half now, and she wasn't going to throw it away on Draco Malfoy. The world didn't revolve around him.

But she might bump into him tonight. Or maybe she wouldn't - he had said he didn't enjoy the Auror Gala's. He might have the sense to pretend, like she was, that the conversation never took place. But he also might confront her, and if he did, Hermione wasn't sure if she would have the answer. She hadn't even told Ron about it yet, and she knew he wouldn't take it well if he found out from Malfoy. Maybe she should tell him. Maybe she shouldn't. She wished the panic in her stomach would go away.

(Four)

"Hey, 'Mione, I am going get a drink. You want anything?" Ron asked her, his freckles standing out in the lighting. He was oblivious to her discomfort at being present at the function. She had really started to enjoy herself when she'd realized Malfoy wasn't here. Sure, he might have been running late, but maybe he wasn't coming at all. She stood with Ginny, chatting as Harry and Ron met and talked to various important people. Hermione was aware, having organized a few such events for her department, of the importance of being on the right side of the right people. The Auror Department severely needed the financial support to ensure more safety.

It was hours later, when the boys had joined the girls and they were all enjoying a bite to eat, when she saw him. She nearly choked on her meatball but managed to gulp it away with some firewhiskey.

"That one's going to need a strong cup of tea doused with some hangover potion in the morning," Ginny said, gesturing to Hermione. "But nothing for the moment, Ron."

Hermione knew she was drinking a lot, but she wasn't fuzzy enough to misbehave or end up embarrassing herself; she was just the right amount of drunk to stop her stomach from spilling onto the floor out of sheer panic. Logic could have told her that she had no rational reason to panic, but by that point she had drunk the logic away.

"She's right." Hermione smiled fondly at Ginny.

"Alright, I'll be back," Ron pecked her on the cheek and crossed the room. Harry and Ginny stayed by her side, the three of them resuming their conversation about 'All Things Muggle', a new band which had transfixed the wizarding world. Harry felt that the wizarding world desperately needed a change from Celestina Warbeck but Ginny, having heard her songs for the major part of her childhood, wasn't ready to let go yet. Hermione contributed every once in a while, but her mind was more consumed by the thoughts of a certain Slytherin whose eyes were boring holes in the back of her head. She turned around discreetly and for a split second, their eyes met. She looked away quickly, enthusiastically indulging herself in Harry and Ginny's conversation. But the harm had been done- he was already making his way towards her.

"Granger, a word please."

Hermione knew if she declined, it would lead to endless questions from her friends later on. But if she did follow him, she'd have to talk to him. Confrontation - she couldn't escape it either way.

She followed him out of her friends earshot, who were still engrossed in their conversation.

"What do you want Malfoy?"

"It's Malfoy now, is it?" His voice was cold, restrained. "Doesn't matter - you have been avoiding me Granger, ever since that day."

"Malfoy, I have a boyfriend," she hissed at him, feeling like all the drinks she had consumed were futile. She had never felt more sober before.

"That doesn't answer my question Hermione," he retorted with a slight smirk.

"There is no question."

"You like me. I know you do. You can't deny it, Hermione, and that means there is a question. Go out with me. Be my girlfriend." He could see her eyes darting around for an escape, but he wasn't going to give her one, not this time.

"Yes, I like you, but I will not be your girlfriend. I love my boyfriend, you prat." She said, her face contorted in a frown.

He smirked slightly; the way he saw it, she hadn't actually denied her feelings for him, and the only thing coming between them was her speck of a boyfriend - her boyfriend who was walking in their direction. Draco could see him over Hermione's shoulder, looking for his girlfriend, and the moment Ron spotted the two of them, Draco bent over and kissed Hermione full on the mouth.

"You are lying," he said confidently when she didn't pull away instantly.

She didn't move for a moment. The shock of it all was too great. And the swooping sensation in her stomach was definitely a result of the shattering glass at her feet.

"Weasel," Draco said lazily to someone just over her shoulder, and she turned - please don't let it be Ron - to see Ron. His expression betrayed anger but he wasn't yelling yet and that was a first for Ron.

"Ron," she said hesitantly, but he didn't look at her, he was too busy glaring daggers at Draco.

"Back off Malfoy, before I blast you into pieces," He said in a deathly quiet voice.

"You know," Draco drawled not even flinching, "I really like Granger over here. I want to go out with her. But the thing is, she is dating you."

If Ron felt any sense of satisfaction about that, he didn't betray it. As his gangly frame seemed to tower over Draco, Hermione felt his height for the first time. She wanted to tell Draco to stop taunting him, but she feared he might listen to her, and that would make Ron even more suspicious. She wanted to clarify with Ron that she wasn't interested, she was not at all interested, but Ron lashed out when he was angry, and she didn't want him to do that, not here, not in public. She stood there, itching to do something but fearing it might be the wrong thing to say, the wrong thing to do.

"But Weasel, I promise you, I will win her over. One day she is going to leave you, and she is going to leave you for me. So, fair warning."

He took a step back, tipped an imaginary hat at the pair of them and sauntered away.

(Five)

In the days following the Auror Ball, Ron moved about in a suppressed rage and took to speaking to Hermione only when absolutely to required. After half a week of this, just as Hermione had given up on trying to have any semblance of normality between them, he changed back to the way he had been. Not just the way he had been before Draco's conversation with him, but the way he had been when they had initially started dating. He brought her tea every morning in the office and insisted on having lunch with her three days out of five.

Hermione would have liked to believe that the whole episode with Draco was forgotten, but she knew better. This change in Ron stemmed from insecurities and even perhaps his doubt in their relationship. Well-justified doubts, in his mind.

Draco, too, had taken to visiting her regularly and occupying much of her time. He somehow came up with case after case that required them to work together. With every second she spend juggling the two of them, she became more exhausted and frustrated.

One day, Ron had barely left her office after their lunch together when Malfoy popped in casually, like it were his office and not hers.

"What do you want?" she said, annoyed just looking at his sloppy smirk.

"This case came in today, if you cou-"

"No. I am not consulting for you on a case. I am busy. There are at least ten other people on this floor who can help you. Now leave." She stood up out of her chair, prepared to chase him out if she had to.

"Not very professional of you is it? Throwing me out because of personal reasons?" He settled into a chair unfazed by the glares she sent his way.

"I am busy Malfoy, I have other matters to handle."

"Sure, you are busy. We'll just pretend that Weaselby wasn't around for chit-chat." His voice was purposely casual. He picked up a paper weight lying on her desk and turned it around in his hand as she stood there fuming.

"Leave," she ordered, and her voice was so steady and steely that he actually got out of his chair.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this, Granger. Your sex life has never been this good before. Weasley's finally paying attention to you instead of getting drunk with Potter and -"

"Don't finish that sentence Malfoy. Because if you liked me, which I am pretty sure you don't, you would know that I hate this. I hate being awkward with my own boyfriend; I hate watching him feel like you stand a chance where he doesn't, because that isn't ever happening. If you liked me Malfoy, you would let me go," she snarled, tears stinging in her eyes.

"Hermione, I like you so much, why are you doing this to us?" he asked his voice suddenly low and barely audible.

"There is no 'us' Draco. Ron is a good guy; stop doing this please and maybe one day we can go back to living in peace." She spoke clearly, her voice brusque and devoid of emotion.

"Hermione- you like me, you do." He repeated it like a mantra, all the while his fingers playing with the rock in his hand.

"This is my last offer. I don't want to be with you. Just put that down and leave me alone," she snapped.

"You sure you mean that, honey? Because frankly, this is irresistible," he replied, waving a hand at his body.

"Malfoy!" she began to chastise once again, her hair forming wild curls around her face. He knew he should go on and finish their conversation; rile her up even more, because the moment he left that room, he knew they were done. This was feeling a lot like goodbye and he wasn't ready for that- not yet, not ever.

But he looked at her, yelling incomprehensible abuses at him, and he felt that if it were indeed goodbye, he wanted a better one.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry that I hurt you." He spoke loudly and more clearly this time. "For the record, I really do want to be with you."

"Draco!" she whispered his name softly, like it was safe in her mouth, between her lips. He was leaving his heart with her, too, but it felt safe. He turned around to face her once again.

"Right, sorry," he muttered, throwing her paper weight in her direction. He felt like he would collapse or fly away or both and it was making him dizzy; like the paper weight had been holding him down and steady.

"Draco, we were good friends. I hope one day, that happens again." She turned back to the pile of papers in front of her. They were important legal documents that she felt like tearing into a million pieces. She set her stone calmly on the desk and didn't look up till she felt he was gone.

(Six)

Draco looked around at the shabby bar, scared that he might recognize someone and yet hopeful he wouldn't have to spend the evening alone. He was supposed to meet Goyle, but as usual the arse was late and Draco even wondered if Goyle even remembered that today was the day they were supposed to meet.

He signaled the bartender for another drink. Goyle had come a long way from following him around as a kid with Crabbe, but people like Goyle, he knew that there was only so far that they could go. He wouldn't put it past Goyle to do something stupid like forgetting the location of their meeting place or the time or the day.

"Draco!"

He turned around to find Goyle and Zabini making their way towards him. Draco hadn't realized that Zabini would be joining them, but Goyle didn't look like he was about to explain, and Zabini sat down like he owned the place, so Draco put it out of his mind.

As the three of them drowned the night away, pouring drink after drink for old times' sake, Draco couldn't help but give a drunken retelling of his previous few months' adventures. Hermione had entirely taken over his life for the past few months, he realized. She was all he could remember.

"That's cool, Draco," Goyle hiccuped when he finished his tale by recounting how he had walked out of her office. He knew his friends bore prejudices against people like Hermione, but he also had a feeling they wouldn't remember a word of it in the morning.

"Some more firewhiskey, I think?" Goyle asked, heaving himself up and hobbling off towards the bar. Zabini and Draco watched him, too tired to even move their eyes.

"So you just left her in the office because she asked you to?" Zabini finally asked. Goyle seemed to be having some sort of trouble with the bartender.

"Yeah, that sums it up."

"But you didn't fight her? You didn't convince her to give you a chance?"

"No, she didn't want to give me one. It was pointless."

"The Malfoy I knew in school, he wouldn't have backed down from anything like that. Not for a second." Zabini's words had started to slur. Draco simply shrugged in response. Goyle was making his way back towards them, a tankard in tow.

"Why?" Zabini asked again not capable of uttering more than a word.

"Because." Draco struggled to find the right words. "Because he may be a good guy for her but I am a better man for walking away."


A/N: Reviews are better than holidays. (I desperately need some - Both reviews and holidays)