A/N: This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Word Count before Authors' Note is 2993.

Prompt: Write about your OTP dealing with a work based problem.

Team: Wigtown Wanderers (Reserve)

Position: Beater 2

So, my OTP has always been Romione, but lately I've really been enjoying some Dramione fics, and I'm just so confused. This was what ended up coming out of that. It's not only my OTP dealing with a work based problem, it's my confusion over my OTP dealing with a work based problem. And while they sort it out, I still haven't. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

And shoutout to EvilDime for helping me brainstorm and come up with this idea; you're incredible! :)

"Godric, can't you wait for one more moment, Mione? I'm almost ready!" Ron called down to Hermione, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Weren't you just saying yesterday that females take far longer than males to get ready?" she responded, entirely exasperated, "Because I don't see that happening here."

Ron didn't respond, but Hermione heard frantic shuffling from upstairs and knew that if the other residents of the Burrow weren't already awake, they soon would be. Of course, Ron would just say that if they had to get up early, what did it matter if everyone else did too?

Rolling her eyes once again at this thought, Hermione began to tap her foot impatiently. The last thing she wanted was to be late on their first day working at Gringotts. The bank was one of the few places that took in young wizards over the summer, wanting to strengthen the bonds between goblins and the rest of the wizarding world, and both Hermione and Ron were desperate to be accepted. Ron needed the money to apply for the Auror training program in September, whereas Hermione wanted the experience to add to her already lengthy resume. Harry would have joined them, except he had been offered around ten jobs already. Being the boy who lived does have its advantages, Hermione thought bitterly. She had hoped that writing her NEWTS this last year would have given her an advantage, but the marks hadn't come in yet so they hadn't helped her at all.

"Come ON, Ronald!" Hermione yelled at him, giving way to her impatience, "If you're not down here in – " A *pop* sounded beside her, and Hermione turned to see Ron standing next to her, grinning.

"In…?" he questioned, tilting his head innocently. Hermione smacked him with her bag.

"How long have you been ready for?" she questioned accusatorily, eyes narrowed. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't even noticed the silence that had settled on the Burrow over the last few minutes. Ron simply laughed.

"Oh, c'mon Mione. You're not going to give me a lecture on our first day, are you?"

Sighing, Hermione shot him a glare and then shook her head. It felt odd not to have her hair move along with her, as she had it tied up in a bun for this morning. And she'd also put on something nicer than she normally would have. Leave it to Ron not to notice, she thought, feeling slightly annoyed.

"Whatever, let's just go," she stated coolly. Ron gave her a questioning look, noticing her tone, but she simply shook her head again. Ron reached for her hand, and Hermione allowed him to take it, before turning on the spot, intensely focused on the apparition point just inside of Diagon Alley.

Walking up to the huge bank, Hermione felt strangely guilty, recalling the last time she'd been here, to break into the Lestrange's vault. She'd been too embarrassed to enter the bank since. Now she was here for a job, and it felt entirely strange. Peeking over at Ron, she saw that he too seemed a bit out of sorts, if the redness in his cheeks said anything. Of course, she knew she had nothing to worry about. For one, Voldemort had later killed those who had witnessed their break in. And two, when the reasons for their break in had been released, the other goblins had been surprisingly pragmatic about it.

"You've got a little something there," Ron said to her, as he caught her gaze. Lifting his hand, he wiped at a spot on her upper lip, pushing off a crumb that must have been from the toast she ate for breakfast.

"Thanks for noticing," Hermione responded dryly. Ron looked as though he was about to respond, but the two had reached the entrance and were separated for a quick check. Security had increased since their break in, even though Voldemort had now been defeated.

The check only took a moment, and then the two were standing in the huge entrance hall of the bank. A small group of about eight others stood off to the side, and Hermione knew that was where they needed to be. She spotted Neville and Luna standing slightly off to the side; Hermione had owled both of them when she found out about the job. There were five spots available, and she was hoping for as many of them as possible to be filled up with her friends.

"Ron, Hermione!" Neville said with a grin, as the two approached. Luna lowered her upside down Quibbler for a moment, smiled at them, and then went back to reading. Hermione did an inward eye roll, though she had grown used to Luna's little oddities.

"Hey Neville!" she responded, giving her friend a hug. He had joined her in coming back to Hogwarts last year, as he hadn't been able to write his NEWTs with the Carrows in charge and the Battle of Hogwarts and everything. The two had grown pretty close during that time – he was like a brother to her now.

"Hey, Granger," came a slow drawl from behind her, and Hermione spun to face the owner of the familiar voice. Oh, Godric, not him, she thought, anyone but him. Her hopes were unfounded, however, as she found herself looking up into the cool, grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned. After a year at Hogwarts without him, she'd almost forgotten that he existed. But of course he would be attempting to gain the same job she was.

"I work here," he stated, and Hermione audibly groaned. Even worse.

"How did a ferret like you manage that?" she questioned coolly, and he gave her a taunting smile.

"You know, Granger, seeing as I am the one giving you the tour and reporting on your – job aptitude – to my superiors, you may not want to talk to me like that," Draco stated. His voice remained light, but his eyes hardened, letting Hermione know that her words had struck a cord.

"Wait – what?" she suddenly blurted out, "By me you mean all of us, right?"

Shaking his head, Draco laughed at her expression, "No, I mean you, Granger. All of the staff were assigned to give someone the tour of the place, get them to do a few things, assess their skill level. I didn't have any say in who I was – partnered – with."

Hermione glared at Draco, and looked to Ron for support, but he was already being pulled away by another member of the staff. He was also giving her a look that clearly said, "Sorry about this," but she chose to ignore it, and turned her glare on him. Trust Ron to just leave me here with Malfoy, she thought resentfully.

"Shall we go, Granger?" Draco questioned, his voice betraying his annoyance with the situation, now that the two of them were alone.

"It doesn't look like I have a choice, does it?" she responded bitterly.

Draco raised a blond brow, "Well, you could just walk out now and spare us both the hassle of what will certainly turn out as enjoyable for neither of us," he stated coolly.

Crossing her arms, Hermione glared at him, "You can't just give them a bad report because it's me," she stated, "That's not fair."

"The world isn't fair, Granger," Draco responded, and Hermione laughed humorlessly.

"Well, you don't need to further that unfairness, Malfoy. Though I wouldn't expect any more from you," she sneered at him.

Again, Malfoy's eyes hardened, but Hermione saw something else there. Something that almost looked like hurt. It came and went so fast that she couldn't be certain, but whatever it was it certainly didn't belong in Malfoy's eyes. At least not in Hermione's mind.

"Hold your Hippogriffs," Draco finally responded, "I technically didn't say I would 'further that unfairness' as you so eloquently put it. Don't get your wand all tied in a knot."

Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath; she wasn't certain when she had got so worked up, but she supposed that it must have been his unspoken threat to take away the one chance she had for a job. If he meant that he hadn't actually been implying that, then she really had no reason to be upset. Other than the obvious fact that she was stuck with Draco Malfoy for an entire day. Breathing out, she decided her best chance was to be civil. If they traded insults all day then there was no way she stood a chance for the job.

"Fine. Draco," Hermione emphasized her use of his first name, trying to point out that she was going to try to be friendly. Instead, Draco tensed.

"Don't call me that."

"What?" Hermione questioned, taken slightly aback, although she should have expected it, "Then what do you want me to call you?"

Draco considered this for a moment, then: "Mr. Malfoy would be preferred," he responded with a grin.

Hermione studied him. For once, he seemed to be legitimately joking. No cruelty, no double meaning. Just fooling around.

"I'll die before I call you that," Hermione forced herself to joke back, and Draco gave her a look of mock offense. They both went silent for a moment, as though realizing that they were being slightly civil, even if that meant trading playful insults. Honestly, Draco would have been the last person Hermione would ever have expected to be standing here doing this with.

"Well," Draco began awkwardly. "Let's go this way." He began walking hurriedly towards a hallway only a few feet away, and Hermione followed him, entirely confused.

"And last we have the key room," Draco pointed out, "Where we keep a copy of everyone's keys – just in case anything out of the ordinary happens."

"Uh huh," Hermione murmured, barely listening. She was staring up into Draco's grey eyes and wondering exactly what had changed. This was their last stop before she went home for the day, and besides a small amount of bickering, they hadn't insulted each other once. In fact, Hermione had found that she quite enjoyed the blond's company when he wasn't being a complete git. He still carried traces of that cocky attitude he had always had, but it was obvious that something had changed. He hadn't called her a mudblood or insulted her appearance once.

Draco caught Hermione staring, and she blushed, but didn't look away for some reason. The two studied each other, both wondering exactly what had happened to bring them to a point where they could be in the other's presence for more than five minutes without hexing the other into oblivion.

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked, before her mind had time to register the question.

For the third time, Draco's eyes hardened. But then they softened slightly, and he ran a hand through his blond fringe, "The bloody war, that's what happened," he responded slowly. Then he eyed her, obviously waiting for a response or a reaction. Anything.

"Well, that happened to everyone, idiot," was all she could think to say. But she thought that maybe she understood. A memory surfaced in her mind, one that she hadn't even thought of until now. Draco had been there that day, when Bellatrix tortured her and wrote "mudblood" on her arm. And before she'd lost all ability to pay attention to her surroundings, she had caught his eye. He had looked terrified and upset, before quickly breaking their gaze. With everything that occurred after that, she had almost forgotten about it. But now she wondered if his arrogance had been a façade all along – or at least for their last years of school.

Hermione broke out of her thoughts to find him gently stroking her hand, and she pulled away, "What are you doing, Malfoy?" she questioned, reverting back to last names. Once again, he looked almost hurt.

"No idea," he responded. It was perhaps the most honest thing he'd ever said to her.

They stared at each other for a moment, both feeling warm at the places where their skin had made contact, but neither willing to admit it.

"You look different by the way," Draco mentioned, "You did something new with your hair and your outfit." Hermione found herself smiling slightly; it was almost a compliment, but in true Malfoy fashion he couldn't actually bring himself to admit that she looked nice. It was written on his face, however.

And then suddenly he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against hers. Hermione's first instinct was to recoil; Godric, this was her worst enemy after all. Or had been. But his lips felt entirely different from anything that she could have imagined; feather soft and gentle. Warmth flooded through her, and she couldn't bring herself to push him off. Instead, she didn't move. She just let him kiss her, trying to tell herself that this was wrong, and yet feeling entirely wonderful.

"And this is the…" a voice cut off from outside the key room, and Hermione immediately pulled away. Ron stood outside the door with Astoria Greengrass, the staff member who had been showing him around. His mouth fell open and his hands clenched into fists at his sides; though Hermione didn't notice, Astoria echoed these motions.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Ron questioned, glaring coldly at the blond. Draco's eyes widened and he took a step back from Hermione. It was the first time she had seen Malfoy look at all flustered, "And you didn't look all that unhappy, Mione," Ron finished. The way he said her nickname cut right through Hermione. Hurt, anger, and sorrow filled his voice and covered his face.

"Ron, I'm – " Hermione began, speechless for once. She had no idea how to explain what had just happened, because she really had no idea what it was herself. All she knew was that kissing Draco had felt entirely different – and nicer – than kissing Ron ever had. For some entirely unexplainable reason, it had felt right.

"Bloody hell," she murmured, louder than she meant to, without noticing that the words were Ron's common statement.

"Bloody hell is right," Ron responded. This time his voice was cold, though it was still coated in hurt, "Look, whatever. If you want to kiss that ferrety git, that's your decision. I'm out."

Hermione felt sick, "Out?"

"I don't want to work here anymore," he told Astoria. Then he turned back to Hermione, glaring at her, "When you change your mind – well – " he cut off, at a loss for words.

Hermione chewed her lip, and looked at Draco, then back at Ron. She felt like an idiot, and a total git. Ron was her boyfriend, Draco had always been her mortal enemy. Even if he had changed, even if he was a better kisser… Hermione felt herself draw blood and winced. What was she even thinking? Obviously she had allowed her earlier anger at Ron to entirely get the better of her. How could she even think for a second that her and Draco might work together? Looking down, she glared at her shoes, confused by these mixed up emotions that she shouldn't even be feeling. Why on earth did I let him kiss me? She berated herself, what was I thinking?

Taking a deep breath, she calmed her thoughts. I can't leave Ron. Not because of a two second – thing – with Draco Malfoy of all people. I love Ron. Really love him. We're best friends. And then everything made sense in Hermione's mind. They were best friends. They had been for years. Even though they really were perfect for each other, Ron had become normal. Being with Draco, even for an instant, had felt – different. Like a boyfriend she had never truly had. She turned to look at him again, and immediately confirmed her thoughts. He could never be anything more than a short detour. She loved Ron. And no summer work was worth losing him.

"Ron, I'm sorry," she stated meaningfully, "I don't know what I was thinking kissing that ferret." She didn't really mean the words – whatever her thoughts, she had seen a different side to Draco this afternoon - but she knew that she needed to exaggerate for Ron's sake. Draco breathed a small sigh of relief, which Hermione didn't completely understand.

"I don't want to work here anymore, either," she said firmly, to no one in particular. And then she marched out, grabbing Ron's hand. He took it, apparently in relief.

"You better have a bloody good explanation for that," he stated angrily, when they were out of earshot.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and stopped, looking into Ron's eyes: "Truthfully, I have no explanation," she said honestly. Well, not quite honestly, but she wasn't about to tell Ron her half formed thoughts.

Chewing his lip, a habit he had picked up from her, Ron considered this: "Maybe that's for the best," he finally responded, and Hermione laughed.

"Trust me, it is."

He gave her a quizzical look, and then shrugged, "Please don't go off kissing any other guys, I don't know how much more of that I can take," he stated honestly. For a moment there he thought he had lost her, and the idea had almost broken his heart.

"Trust me, I won't," Hermione stated, "I really am sorry."

Ron studied her, and then laughed, "Can you wipe those Malfoy germs off of your lips? I don't want to pick up ferret disease or something."

Hermione laughed and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Then she leaned forwards and kissed Ron. It didn't feel nearly the same as the kiss with Malfoy, but to her it was far more beautiful. And far more real.

Down the hallway, Draco was feeling the same way, passionately kissing Astoria, and holding her like he was never going to let go.