Roses are red

Violets are blue

I don't own Harry Potter

This is sad, but true

For my very dear friend, mhcalamas, without whom I don't think I would have achieved half as much as I have. Thank you for being my constant support. I hope you like this little something I wrote for you.

All my love xx

P.S - This is the product of a Spotify playlist called '80's Love Songs'. The cheese is certainly intentional and, hopefully, delicious ;)


"Wait… are you flirting with me?" Hermione's face scrunched delicately as she peered over the top of a heavy tome, her head tilted in confusion.

Draco sighed and resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands in exasperation. "Have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing."

The book fell to the table with a dull thud. Her brown eyes met his and Draco's breath caught in his throat. It was easy to ignore the way his heart beat faster and his hands clammed up when he was around her if she was oblivious to his attempts to engage her in less than professional conversation… Now that he'd openly admitted that he'd been trying to put the moves on her for almost the entirety of their working relationship, he realised that there was a chance she might shoot him down.

Shit.

"Really?" she squeaked… actually squeaked.

Draco nodded, butterflies waging war in his gut. "Really."

"But I don't understand," she said, her forehead crinkling again.

Draco longed to reach out and smooth out the lines with the pad of his thumb, but clenched his fists where they rested on the table instead.

"Hermione Granger doesn't understand something!" Draco crowed in mock surprise, his nerves getting the best of him. "Alert the press! Rita Skeeter, do I have a scoop for—"

"That's quite enough!" Granger hissed, glancing around the small library space.

Draco noticed the pretty blush currently crawling its way out of her sensible black blouse. He watched, somewhat transfixed as it continued up her neck and the sides of her face, stopping to rest in her cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm nervous."

"You're nervous!" she scoffed. Granger's teeth sank into her bottom lip, her eyes shifting from his face to a spot over his right shoulder.

His heart thudded against his ribcage, mixing with the butterflies in his stomach in an odd, arhythmic dance. Draco licked his lips. "The reason I asked to be put on this project was so I could work with you."

Granger's eyes widened almost comically and Draco could practically see the cogs slowly turning over in her eyes.

"So you're not really interested in the deforestation of centaur habitats?"

"No!" Draco shook his head emphatically. "I mean yes!" he said quickly, quailing under the stern look she gave him. "Yes, I am! I just… it was a good opportunity… to get to know you," he finished lamely.

He chanced a glance over at Granger. Her expression was still one of confusion but there was something else beneath her searching gaze that Draco couldn't read.

He'd been pining after this witch for the entire eighteen months he'd worked alongside her in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Once they'd agreed to move past their less than savoury history, falling for Hermione Granger had been simple.

It took him the better part of six months to even admit to himself that what he was feeling for his colleague was more than a passing infatuation. Draco had thought the witty, sometimes downright cheeky quips would be enough to alert the brightest witch of her age to the fact that he was crazy about her. But she'd maintained the wall of professionalism which rose between them like the stone fortress of Azkaban.

He hadn't done anything differently today, though… really, his witticism about how perhaps they should set up camp in the Forbidden Forest just the two of them was less 'planned, obvious attempt' to get her attention, and more habit than anything else.

"You like me?" Her voice cut through his reverie like a hot knife through butter and Draco shook himself.

He blinked twice, her words registering slowly in his brain. Once he had deciphered them, though, he barked out a harsh life. "Of course I like you!" He chuckled. "What gave you the impression that I didn't?"

Granger shrugged and avoided making eye contact. She shuffled around in her seat, her well manicured fingernails tapping a simple rhythm on the table top. Draco's heart leapt into his throat as he registered that she really was nervous.

His laughter died in his chest and one of his hands reached for hers of its own accord. As his brain caught up with the movement, Draco hesitated and let his palm fall heavily to the surface of the desk, inches away from the tips of her fingers.

He cleared his throat. "I like you, Granger," he said clearly, ducking his head slightly in a futile attempt to catch her gaze.

That was a lie, he admitted to himself. He more than liked her, but he feared that if he revealed his true feelings, he might scare her off completely.

A long silence stretched between them and Draco felt as though they might as well be standing on opposite ends of a Quidditch pitch. After all this time wondering what it would be like to have this conversation, he suddenly wished he was anywhere else.

"I'll just go," he muttered, standing quickly.

His chair scraped brutally along the stone floor, the screeching sound making him wince as he stumbled to the side.

"No!" Granger was on her feet too, her chair swaying dangerously behind her. "Draco, wait."

The use of his first name was not a foreign sound anymore, but Draco's stomach did a little somersault every time Granger used it; he thought that his digestive organ might be ready for a career in the olympics with the amount of times it had flipped and flopped around whenever she was near.

"I'm sorry," she said, coming to stand in front of him.

She was shorter than him by a head and shoulders, and he had to tilt his face down to look into her eyes. Her brown orbs were searching hers, for permission or for forgiveness or out of pity, he wasn't sure.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Draco said, "You don't need to be sorry."

"Shh!" she shushed him, holding up a hand to indicate that he should shut up. He fought a smirk but nodded to demonstrate his compliance. "I just… this has come as a bit of a shock. I wasn't expecting to have this conversation when we agreed to go over a few textbooks this morning."

She loosed a breathy laugh and Draco's heart clenched in a way that was both pleasurable and painful.

"Well, to be fair, neither was I," he murmured with a small smile.

Granger smiled one of her megawatt grins and Draco was momentarily blinded by his pure desire for this witch. He clenched his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her.

"So… what is this, exactly?" She gestured between them and arched an eyebrow.

Draco shrugged. "There isn't a this, Granger. I have feelings for you. Whether they are to be explored or not is up to you." His voice was low and steady; he might have been talking about what step they should take next in terms of the centaurs, but inside Draco was in turmoil. He hoped desperately that she wouldn't notice the sweat that had broken out across his forehead.

Granger pursed her lips and canted her head, appraising him. "How about we start with dinner?"

"Dinner?" His head was spinning, sounds didn't make sense… had Granger just asked him on a date?

"Yes, it's a customary meal one might consume in the eve—"

"I know what dinner is!" He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help smiling as his gaze settled back on the smug face of the brunette witch before him. "And I think I can clear my schedule for you, Granger. Seeing as you've been so good as to admit your undying love for me."

Granger raised her hand and let it fall with a smack in the middle of his chest. Draco winced as the skin beneath his navy button down smarted, but he caught her wrist as she made to move it away, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

She had agreed to go to dinner with him—even asked him on the date. His heart had never felt so full; he had never felt so full.

Granger's expression melted from one of faux-annoyance to wide-eyed intrigue as Draco's lips brushed over the smoothness of the back of her hand.

"Tonight?" he breathed, still holding her hand to his mouth.

Silently, she nodded, her eyes still wide and her lips slightly parted.

Draco smirked. "I'll pick you up at seven."

And before he was entirely overcome with excitement, Draco turned on his heel and left the library. It wouldn't do to perform his exuberant happy dance in front of the woman he had finally scored a date with after all this time; he would save that until he was safely back at the manor.

I have a date with Hermione Granger. His heart danced for him as he grinned all the way to the elevator.

As the metal gates clanged open and he stepped into the cage, he wondered if she would let him kiss her and a new kaleidoscope of butterflies were released into his abdomen.

They may not have had the most traditional of romantic starts, but he couldn't help but feeling like this was a solid foundation on which to build a relationship. He classified Granger as one of his friends; was that not the crux of any happy romance?

The elevator dinged to signal that he had arrived at the ground floor, and Draco strode purposefully into the sunshine. With only a few hours before he was expected at Granger's flat, he would have to commit every minute to ensuring that it was the best date she had ever had in her life.