Whistling merrily, Draco Malfoy strolled through the busy hallway of the American Ministry of Magic. He felt eyes on him with every step he took and revelled in the attention. It seemed every woman he passed couldn't help but take a glance or two at the blond; and with good reason.
Gone was the lanky sixteen year old with perfectly coifed hair and an all-black ensemble. In his place stood a sharply dressed twenty-four year old man, lean but with an athletic physique as a result of his weekly Quidditch games with the lads and daily workout sessions with his partner. His hair, no longer smoothed back, was mussed stylishly to give him a carefree appearance.
Winking at an attractive blonde gawking at him, Draco got a good laugh at seeing the poised woman lose her cool and trip, scattering all the files in her arms and spilling her coffee on top of them for good measure.
A sigh at his side made his laughs grow in volume, as he shot a cheeky grin at his partner as if to say 'I can't help that I'm so attractive.' Getting a scowl and shake of the head in return, Draco smirked. It was so easy getting to her.
Who was she? Hermione Granger, one third of the Golden Trio, muggleborn extraordinaire...and his partner of five years at the Department of International Magic Cooperation. It came as quite a shock to everyone in the department, including the dumb duo that was Potty and the Weasel when they got wind of it, that he was announced as her partner. It was even more of a shock when he and the brunette firecracker calmly greeted one another and shook hands before turning their attention to their department head to receive their first assignment.
Childhood rivalries aside, the two made quite a team together. Harold Garret, head of the department, was smug as he took full credit for their pairing. Over the years, they'd come close to becoming friends; though both would vehemently deny it. Much as Draco enjoyed their partnership, daily spats, and even their rare one-on-one talks, he still couldn't stand her enough to want to hang around her beyond their job. The feeling, she'd always reply, was mutual.
Time had been very kind to Hermione Granger. Her once untameable hair had remained voluminous but was not characterized by long, smooth, curls no man could resist wanting to run his hands through. Her doe eyes remained as fiery but as kind as every; something he was secretly thankful for. And her physique...well, let's just say that even he couldn't stop himself from ogling her every day. Especially in the tiny scraps of clothes she called her 'workout outfit.' Seeing how uncomfortable it had made her the first time he did it, he took to raking his eyes over her body and making a remark at how she looked at least once a day to rile her up. She looked even hotter when angered so it was a win-win situation for Draco.
Unfortunately for him, her know-it-all persona and bossiness only got stronger over time as well. The second she opened her mouth to berate him over something trivial like not having his paperwork completed, or lecture him on why he should not be scaring the interns until he'd made at least one cry every day, he felt like turning his wand on himself.
"Would you please kindly refrain from trying to flirt with everyone with a pulse around you? We're here to do our job, not for you to score with another bimbo that's ready to fall into your bed."
Ah, there she was. She'd been oddly quiet the entire day, something that had irritated the blond greatly. Draco liked routine, and part of his routine was hearing her whine, lecture and/or scold him within the first ten minutes of their work day; every day. He'd tried everything to get her to perk up or yell at him all day, but hadn't succeeded. Until now, that is. He knew she couldn't resist taking a jab at his dating life.
"No need to worry and be jealous, Granger. I'm all yours babe," he replied with a lecherous smirk on his face. She only scoffed and sped past him in a huff. The smirk widened as his eyes were zeroed in on her behind as her hips swayed in front of him. Did he mention he loved seeing her in a skirt?
Increasing his pace, he quickly made it back to her side as the door at the end of the floor opened for them. Striding purposefully inside, the duo was met with Gerald Whitehall; the American Minister of Magic.
"Ms. Granger, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," the man drawled and, without taking his eyes off of the witch standing between them, extended a brief "you too, Mr. Malfoy" in his direction.
Not yet one minute and Draco already hated Whitehall; and by the way his partner stiffened as the slimy octogenarian sided up to her and took a couple of steps backward until she bumped into him had him thinking she felt the same. Draco could already feel their magic crackling angrily at the sight of the old man leering at her so freely; hers for feeling objectified yet again – something, she made sure to remind him of an infinite number of times a week, she absolutely hated about this job – and his because...well, because only he was allowed to look at her like that. It was their thing. And maybe, he had grown to be slightly protective of his partner. Mostly just the former.
Moving so he was slightly in front of her, Draco extended his hand to clasp the one Whitehall had been reaching towards Hermione and made sure to squeeze it in warning. He could tell the old man was put off, but shook his hand nonetheless before reaching for the silently fuming brunette once again. She briefly shook the man's hand before letting go and discreetly wiping her hand along her skirt. Draco stifled a laugh and she pinched him in return.
"Please, take a seat and we'll go over the details of the trade together." He motioned them to the chairs in front of the large desk by the wall-to-wall window. Placing his hand on the small of her back, Draco guided Hermione over to one of the chairs quickly before Whitehall could finish asking if he could escort her there.
Taking a seat to her left, Draco motioned for the witch beside him start the discussion. They had a system that worked quite well for them. She used her gift of gab and overly large brain to talk circles around whoever they were dealing with and he stepped in using what his pureblood upbringing and his father had taught him about dealing with the politics of the Ministry to finish the job to get them exactly what they wanted. Before she could open her mouth, Whitehall interrupted.
"Would you like some tea, Ms. Granger? Perhaps some coffee? Chocolate? Anything you wan–"
"No thank you Mr. Whitehall, we're alright for now," she replied and stressed 'we' so the old fart would get the message.
"Ah, of course this extends to you too, Mr. Malfoy. I was merely doing my gentlemanly duty and asking the lovely lady first," Whitehall tried suavely to placate the clearly displeased Hermione.
A heel pressing down on his own shiny loafers silenced him from making a scathing remark. She knew him quite well by now. 'She'll be paying for a new pair if she so much as smudged my favourite shoes.'
"Of course," was all he verbalized before Hermione steered the discussion back to their task.
"I swear, I would have hexed his arse if he winked at me or pursed his lips one more time! The nerve of that arrogant, atrocious, disgusting...ugh!"
Snickering lightly, Draco wound his arm around her to calm her down before she drew any more attention to herself. She glared heatedly as she shook his arm off before gripping her bag tighter.
"How could you not be flattered at the fact he was so clearly propositioning you?" he drawled sarcastically.
At her murderous look, he quickly added: "relax Granger! I'm sure you 'accidentally' dropping that paperweight on his hand was enough of a hint to get him to back off. Remember, only four more days until we get to head back home and we forget about Whitehall until the next time we have to deal with him."
"Thank Merlin for that," she muttered. Sensing her anger was ebbing, he tightly wound his arm around her waist and squeezed to offer some kind of comfort. Their quasi-friendship allowed for that once in a while. This time, she didn't move away. Pleased, he continued.
"Come on, chin up Granger. Don't let that old pervert get you down. Tell you what, lets go grab a couple of drinks and you can vent some more about how unfair and misogynistic the world is. My treat!" he coerced.
"You know, if you weren't offering alcohol, I would have kicked you to inflict as much damage as possible and walked away by now for that comment," came the acerbic reply as she pouted darkly and tried to weasel out of his hold.
Laughing at her poor attempts to be free of him, he only held her tighter and was about to apparate them away before a shrill voice halted him.
"DRACO? DRACO MALFOY?"
"Oh, shite! Not her, anyone but her."
"Wh–" Hermione froze mid-word, eyes wide as the woman striding towards them while teetering precariously on stiletto heels stood arms akimbo in from of the pair and nearly growled as she focused on his arm around his partner.
"Just play along," Draco managed to whisper in Hermione's ear as the woman in front of them spoke.
"Who the hell is this slut and why did you not tell me you would be in the country?' she bit out. "Five months Draco, it been over five months since you said you'd call me but never did."
"Hello Liza, good to see you again." Before she could interrupt, he opened his mouth and finished. "This 'slut,' as you so nicely pointed out, is my fiancée; Hermione Granger. Say hello to Liza, love!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Draco was on the receiving end of twin glares. Sighing, he waited for the ensuing explosion and wishing with all his might that he could somehow get his hands on a drink. He decided he needed one now more than ever.
Hi everyone! I'm back and ready to delve back into the wonderful world of Dramione! I'd really love to hear what you think of this story premise so far, so I can decide whether or not to continue writing it. Reviews are much appreciated!
-LittleEagle
