She's never been so close to him before. Not until two weeks ago. Their schooldays had been filled with hatred thrown at him or at her and Draco.

She muses because she saw him again today, and she'd had to look again to make sure she hadn't missed the fact he was acting more mature, less rash, than their schooldays. He seems serious, composed, and she suspects its because his Mudblood friend married his brother without his permission, and the Weasel still has feelings for the girl.

She still thinks of him as that. 'The Weasel', though the nickname is worn and tiresome, and she's too mature, ladylike, and polite to call him that in public.

"Parkinson!" he barks.

She looks up, again disgusted that he was her boss, not the other way around. "Yes?" she asks so politely, so feelingless, she is sure that her voice could snap a two by four in half.

"You're not getting paid to daydream all day," he says calmly, and she suddenly forgets that she just a few moments ago thought him to have matured a little.

"I wasn't daydreaming," she replies, just as calm, though without the barely restrained annoyance. "I was deep in thought."

"You don't get paid for that either," he returns irritably. He leans on his hands to level his face with hers. "I have had to answer more than ten fire-calls because you are again losing sight of what your job is. If I have to remind you one more time…"

His voice seems to fade away as she looks into his eyes. They're blue. A blue that doesn't look like ice, and it doesn't look like the soft blue sky, but somewhere in the middle.

"Are you listening Parkinson?" he demands.

"Hmm?" she asks, coming out of her daze, suddenly remembering that his hair is a flaming red, and he has those hideous freckles. "Oh, of course," she says quickly.

"Then what did I say?"

"Umm… you said that… that if you have to remind me one more time that… that…" she smiles weakly, realizing that she has no way to slip from the trap in which she is caught.

"You're fired," he says.

She stands up abruptly. "What!" she yells.

"You're fired," he repeats. "You can't pay attention. This is your third day here, and every day is the same. You come in here, sit at your desk, and you daydream."

"But---but I need this job!" she protests. "Don't you understand? If I don't keep this job, I-I---"

She collapses back into the chair and puts her face in her hands before moaning.

"I'll have my desk cleared at the end of the day," she says finally, quietly.

"Good," he replies. "You'll get paid for your time of course, and you'll be paid for today, although I don't know why you deserve it."

She nods slightly and she hears the door close that leads to his office.

She sighs and lays her head on her desk.

He comes back out and looks at her. "I'll let you keep the job if you kiss me," he says abruptly.

She glares at him. "You can't be serious!"

He just stares at her. "And if you don't, you're out of a job and you're going to be running back to Daddy."

She gulps, knowing he spoke the truth. How tempted she is to walk up and slap him across his face. Finally she says, "Fine."

He stays where he is. "Well?" he asks after a few moments.

She looks around, panicked. "You want to do it now?"

He nods.

She takes a deep breath and pushes her chair back before walking up to him. Regardless of what people thought, she hasn't had a lot of experience in this department. She stands a foot away from him, before taking that last step. She breathes in again before taking both of her hands uncertainly and putting them behind his neck. She tilts her head slightly and pulls his head down to touch her lips to his.

Right before their lips touch, he whispers, "Relax." And then he pulls her waist to be closer to him and kisses her hard.

When she tries to pull away, he lifts one of his hands to behind her neck to hold her in place and she can feel it, rough and calloused against her soft skin. She can feel his tongue tracing her lips and demanding entrance. She gasps in outrage and tries to pull away when she feels his hand lightly touch the side of her breast.

She takes one of her hands and slaps it away before turning her head to the side, and feels his lips move against her cheek as he lets her go. She doesn't know why she's clinging to him, basically hugging him as her head is resting on his chest, and she tries to recover from the kiss. She enjoyed it, she knows---she's not naïve enough to believe she didn't when her knickers are slightly damp. He's holding her close and breathing as rapidly as she.

"I have to go," she whispers. She pulls away from him and grabs her coat and purse before leaving, shutting the office door quickly. He stands there, dazed, and decides that he needs more than just one kiss.