Love That Red

by OogieBoogie

Apparently Hermione Granger's life lacks some colour. Warm earthy browns, neutral soft pinks and nudes are her safe colours. Can a change in colour – a lipstick colour – make a difference?

Disclaimer:Bunch o' wizards belong to J.K. Rowling.
Summary:Apparently Hermione Granger's life lacks some colour. Warm earthy browns, neutral soft pinks and nudes are her safe colours. Can a change in colour – a lipstick colour – make a difference?

A/N: This story is inspired by a lipstick shade called 'Love That Red' I recently purchased from Revlon's Super Lustrous Lipstick collection. Yes, I am totally aware that that just sounded like an advertisement :P Enjoy!

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Hermione Granger was a neutral, earthy woman.

Her life was neutral and stagnant, her routines monotonous and consistent – as were the colours that coated most of her clothing and belongings. Browns, nude and barely-there pinks were her safe colours – even with makeup.

Safe to say, there was absolutely nothing outstanding about Hermione Granger (excluding her prodigious brain … and her hair during those really dry and humid weathers.). Her eyes were a chocolate brown, not a striking green colour like Harry's. Her hair was caramel brown, not striking red like Ron's.

Ginny had always said that she had remarkable lips – but what good is that? Nobody had ever looked Hermione's way in the Ministry and other places, let alone look at her lips. Even the infamous Draco Malfoy wouldn't spare her a glance, not even to insult her anymore as they cross paths at work. Ginny tried to convince Hermione that she simply didn't choose to flaunt it by choosing neutral, earthy and dull-coloured lipsticks. Hermione, of course, being Hermione ignored Ginny's assertion.

Until that fateful day when Hermione ran out of her favourite safe, nude lipstick. She felt so naked without it, as the name 'Nude' implied.

Being Muggle-born, Hermione finds herself still sticking to her old Muggle ways ... washing the dishes manually, and popping into the drugstore once in a while, for example. So there she was, drifting through the makeup section, eyes peeled open for a lipstick colour that caught her attention.

Her eyes landed on the pinks and the nudes - her safe section.

Blushed ... ginger rose ... soft suede ... soft silver rose ... peony pink ... china glaze red ... 24K orange ... base apricot ... love that pink ... orchid beach ...

She particularly liked soft silver rose, it was - as the name implied, soft and sweet. She dropped it into her shopping basket (filled with things she didn't need at all but felt like buying for no particular reason. She had a knack for going to the drugstore to find things to buy that made no difference in her life whatsoever.).

She was about to leave until a certain section of the lipstick palette caught her eye.

The reds.

The colours she never dared to wear on her face, let alone on her lips. Being a Gryffindor and all, Hermione had always been familiar with the colour. However, as much as she was supposed to embrace it, she had always found it intriguing.

Why intriguing?

Because it has high visibility. It's a stop-sign colour, stoplights colour ... the colour of passion, desire and love.

It was intriguing because, secretly, Hermione loved the colour but despite red being the colour of courage and strength; she never mustered both said traits to actually wear it on her lips. Oh, but she wished she could. She often told people her favourite colour was beige, or maybe khaki - but red ... red was the first one on her list, though unspoken.

Only, she wouldn't know what to do if she actually stopped people in their tracks with her siren red lips. She was too shy, too low on self-confidence to actually embrace that kind of attention.

Because look at that - look at those shades ... how can one tear their eyes off from such rich, vibrant and magnetic colours?

Her eyes were glued to one particular shade.

Love that red, she thought to herself. Her fingers moved of their own accord and took the cap of. Twisting it, she gasped as the colour revealed more of itself to her. She flipped it, curious about the name of the shade.

Love That Red.

"Hah, how ironic," she grinned to herself. She began to put it back in the case with the rest, but her eyes plastered wistfully and relentlessly on it.

Come on, Hermione, a voice in her head seemed to say. You know you want it. You know you want to embrace it. You always said you wished you could fight off being shy, to reveal the passionate you within. This lipstick is the way to do that.

"You're not making any sense," she whispered to herself.

Do you really want to settle for less? You know you were born for more ... come on. Take it. Welcome it. Love that red. Don't hide away.

She shut her eyes and made to move away, thinking that if she got it it'd sit on her dresser, unused for the rest of her life.

Don't you want to stand out? All these years, feeling beneath the likes of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown ... Parvati with her incredibly smoky bedroom eyes, Lavender with her bodily assets. What about you?

I don't care; she told the other voice sternly, I don't need those. All I have is my job, and I happen to love my job very much, end of.

Wouldn't you want Draco Malfoy to look at you? the other voice pressed on relentlessly.

She frowned at this.

Nonsense, Draco Malfoy can go fly a kite with the rest of his adoring fan girls trailing after him. He's nothing to me, she retorted.

Nothing to you, but only the starring of those ... questionably sensual dreams you keep having as of late.

Shut up, she hissed inwardly, it's just a passing fancy.

Hiding away again, I see. Is it a new hobby?

No. It's just a crush. I mean, it's Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. There's absolutely nothing special about Malfoy. Nothing about his changed self, nothing about the way his hair isn't gelled back like in school anymore, about how it looks like he just shagged someone into the next life, nothing about his piercing, stormy grey eyes - nothing about his smell, ugh, nothing, nothing at all about his aloof exterior that positively drives everything and everyone around him positively bonkers. The nerve of that panty-dropping, arrogant, self-obsessed twit, dallying around the Department of Magical Law Enforcement like he owns the world!

Oh, do go on ... her other voice said cheekily.

It's just a crush! She pressed on.

And that's just a lipstick.

And those five words, five simple words with a truthful fact almost broke her resolve.

"Can I help you, miss?" one of the attendants at the drugstore came over.
"Pardon?"
"No, it seems that you've been standing here staring at these lipsticks for a very long time ... so I thought you'd be needing help with choosing the right shade?"
"Well, I, umm ... no, actually, I was just -" she began to explain but the phrase 'I was just having a debate with myself' wouldn't sound too becoming. The attendant wasn't listening anyway, intent of focusing on Hermione's lips, her skin tone and began picking lipstick shades.

"I'd say, your lips would be simply exquisite with this colour," the attendant handed her a shade and Hermione grabbed it without thinking and peered at the back of the cap.

Hermione laughed.

"'Love that red', huh?" She felt the urge to slap the attendant for agreeing with the cheeky voice in her head. But she immediately perished the thought.

She was a lovely lady, the attendant. Bless her.

The attendant nodded, "It would suit you well."
"Well then, thank you very much!" Hermione smiled good-naturedly and dropped the lipstick into her shopping basket, and proceeded to the cashier.

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Eyes. So many eyes on her.

"Morning, Miss Granger," a witch greeted her in the Ministry the next morning.
"Good morning," she nodded, looking down shyly as she replied and reminded herself to keep her head up the next second.

"Miss Granger," another wizard greeted her.
"Morning, Mister Roxbury," she replied, smiling.

"Good morning, Miss Granger." "Morning, ummm, Miss Granger?" "Miss Granger! Wow, good morning!" "Good morning!" Everyone greeted her left and right.

That was normal, of course.
But after they greeted her, they all stopped in their tracks to look at her more carefully and stared after her even after she had long disappeared.
That wasn't normal at all.

Then she bumped into her two best friends working at the Auror Department on the way to the lifts. They gawked at her and stared at her with wide, stunned eyes.
That wasn't normal either.

"'Mione!" both said in unison.
"Morning Harry, Ronald," she greeted them.
Harry was grinning widely at her, despite looking pleasantly surprised. Ron, on the other hand, looked confused.

"'Mione, what's that on your lips?" Ron asked, as he continued walking with Harry and Hermione.
"It's lipstick, Ronald!" she laughed. "Surely you'd be used to them, having a girl best friend and all."
"Yes, it's red!" Ron said, looking a little aghast.
"What?" she frowned, her hand coming up to touch her lips – adorned with Love That Red this morning – feeling like she might have had a momentary lapse of judgement with the lipstick shade, "You don't like it? It doesn't suit me?"

Did she look like a clown gone bad?

"No, of course not!" Harry cut in, shaking his head at Ron, "It looks amazing Hermione, wow! You look beautiful."
"Thanks, Harry," she grinned, still looking expectantly at Ron.
"I didn't mean that it didn't suit you, 'Mione … just that … we're not really used to this bold side of you, wearing red and all that," he grinned sheepishly, "But like Harry said, it's amazing."
"Thank you, Ronald," she let out of a sigh of relief, as they reached the lifts.
"You should wear that shade all the time, it brings out your beauty," Harry winked at her.
"Maybe I will, Harry, thank you," Hermione replied, "I'm just in the middle of getting used to it."

Hermione was feeling good. Her two best friends (both being male was a plus) had approved of her new change in lipstick shade. It was as if she had passed a test and had gotten approval from both of them.

For the first time in … well, ever, Hermione was feeling good about her appearance.

"Ugh, look who's coming," Ron rolled his eyes at something at a distance from Hermione, "Ferret face."

Both Harry and Hermione turned around and saw Malfoy striding towards the lifts as if he were a king, with that assured air of a man and a powerful aura around him.

Hermione resisted the urge to drool, for fear that it might cause her lipstick to well, bleed.
All of a sudden, her heart leapt madly.

Damn. Maybe there was another test of approval. And this time it was from Draco-sodding-Malfoy, as much as she hated to admit it.

"Potter, Weasley," Malfoy nodded as he reached the front of the lifts.
"Malfoy," Harry answered civilly, while Ron just nodded weakly.
"Granger," he turned to her, and Hermione's nostrils were immediately invaded by the masculine scent that was … simply Draco Malfoy.

"Yum," she groaned without thinking.
"Come again?" Malfoy said.

Yes, I will. Again, and again, and again. Oooh.

"I mean, yup," she quickly fixed, "Good morning, Malfoy."
She immediately looked down and blushed furiously, hoping to the highest heavens that her face wasn't as red as her lips.

"Well, we'll be on our way, 'Mione," Harry said, "See you at lunch?"
"Definitely," she grinned and bid her two best friends goodbye.

And then she began fidgeting with the bottom of her blouse because she was suddenly aware. Too aware.

Well, who wouldn't be, with Draco Malfoy standing right next to you … in silence?

Damn.

Did he notice the lipstick? Or he notices nothing at all? Ah.
Hermione frowned and her shoulders slumped at the thought and she walked into the lift that just opened dejectedly.

She parked herself at the corner of the lift, and watched as the walking fantasy that is Draco Malfoy walked in right after her, also parking his person right next to her.

Hermione held her breath. Lifts being lifts, a contained space, only made it worse for Hermione who was currently having a sensory overload over Draco Malfoy. His smell positively embedded itself in her every pore, she could smell how close he was and possibly memorized the smell and feed on it and fantasize about it for the rest of her life. Damn. Double damn.

She was beginning to feel woozy.

Just then the lift stopped and more people began to barge in.

Damn! Why can't the Ministry make their lifts bigger?

But she swallowed the thought as soon as Draco Malfoy scooted closer to her, so much so that her right shoulder was resting on his upper left arm, and she could feel heat emanating from him. Ah, heat and pheromones.

Then again, maybe they should keep the lifts this size.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the cool female voice echoed throughout the lift.

Hermione groaned. Why do they have to reach so fast?

Her eyes fastened on the lift doors, which were so far from her at moment, considering that she and Draco Malfoy were squashed at the far corner.

"Let's go, Granger," Malfoy said to her.
Hermione nodded and began to follow Malfoy as he slid gracefully between people to the lift doors.

Hermione, of course, was not so graceful. She was stuck somewhere in between while Malfoy successfully landed outside of the lift.

"Shit," she hissed, trying to squeeze her way out.
She was doomed to be stuck in place while the lift closed, if not for that strong, pale hand belonging to Draco Malfoy that sought hers out and pulled her out.

She got out just in time for the lift to close and she looked at up at him.

"Thank you, Malfoy," she said coolly, totally contradicting the million beats per second her heart was currently practicing.
"You're most welcome, Granger," he smirked, "You looked like you needed the help."
"Indeed, indeed," she said, "Well … have a good day, Malfoy."

"You too, Granger," he nodded.

She nodded awkwardly in reply and turned to walk to her office.
"Oh, and Granger?" Malfoy called out from behind her.
She turned.
"Yes, Malfoy?"

"You look stunning," he gazed at her and sent her a small smile, "Love that red."

Before she could react, he had already turned and stormed off, his long black cloak billowing behind him.

Just then, Hermione was sure that her face was as red as her lipstick shade.

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It had been days since Draco Malfoy had made Hermione's face put her lipstick shade to shame.

Since then, he hadn't said anything to her at all besides when it concerns work. And it was driving her mad. Was that it?

Was that really it?

Damn Malfoy. Damn Malfoy and his ability to drive me crazy without even knowing it. The stupid git had even worked his way into her dreams every night and she didn't even know how he made it possible.

She was reapplying her lipstick and looked at herself in the compact mirror.

That stupid, stupid git. Stupid, stupid gorgeous, sexy, delicious …

At that moment her door slammed opened so hard it almost made Hermione's heart escape through her mouth. She jumped so very violently she was sure she was at least ten inches up in the air. She immediately snapped her compact mirror shut, twisted her lipstick and glared at the intruder.

It was a messenger boy.

"Don't you knock, kind sir?" she snapped.
"So sorry to interrupt, Miss," he drawled, looking none-too-concerned that he had pissed her off with his barging in, "But the Minister has requested me to deliver these files –" with that he flicked his wand and a plethora of files came flying in and landed rather aggressively on her desk, "So that you may look into it before the Garyson trials next week."

Hermione groaned loudly. She almost forgot about that strenuous trial, a trial in which she was prosecuting a man who had murdered Muggle children for some sick reasons.

"Very well," she rubbed her forehead tiredly.

"And a letter, from the Minister himself," he flicked his wand again and a letter flew towards Hermione, almost hitting her in the face.
With that, he took his leave and slammed the door again.

Hermione sighed and opened the letter.

Dear Hermione,

You are, of course, aware of the Garyson trials that begin next week. And I don't think I need to remind you that I have put you in the prosecuting team, along with Mr Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes widened at that and it seemed that air had left her lungs.

Draco Malfoy?

Yes, I know he seems to be a bit of an arse, but he is the best, along with you when it comes to Magical Law Enforcement. I trust that you two will get along well and win this trial and give Garyson what he deserves.

Do work closely with him and well, do what you have to do as a team in time for the trial next week. All the best.

Kingsley S.

Hermione groaned again. She stood up and walked out of her office.

She straightened her blouse and kept her head up and she walked towards Malfoy's office, heart beating a billion times per second. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on Malfoy's door.

"Enter," came to cool voice of Draco Malfoy.

She twisted the knob and pushed, the door opening with a soft creak. She entered and shut the door, stationing herself right in front of it.

Draco Malfoy looked up, and his normal cool grey eyes began to slowly turn into that of amusement.

"Granger," he greeted, his lips twisting upwards at the corners. It was slight, but noticeable.

Why does he look so bloody amused?

"Malfoy, I trust you got the news from Kingsley?"
"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact," Malfoy waved the same letter she got from Kingsley and looked back at her, the amused look on his face still in place, "I was about to go get you in your office, but you seem to have beat me to it."
Hermione nodded, "Well, then, we've got no time to lose, shall we start soon?"
"Granger, Granger," Malfoy smiled, "Always wasting no time."

She blushed and looked down at her shoes.

"Discussion room, fifteen minutes?" Hermione said.
"Certainly."

And she turned to leave, and Malfoy called out to her again.

"Granger?"
"Yes, Malfoy?" she turned to him.
"As much as those red lips are very becoming on you, and as much as I love this particular look on you, might I suggest – a look in the mirror?" Malfoy said, grinning lopsidedly.

"Excuse me?" Hermione frowned, not bothering to hide the fact that she was offended.

Malfoy merely pointed at another door in her office, which was his personal restroom. She immediately entered it and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Holy shit!" she gasped as she looked at herself in horror, "Oh, fu –"

She immediately grabbed tissues from the counter.
Apparently, when she was busy reapplying her lipstick in her office, the shock from the very rude messenger boy opening the door caused her to jump – and the jump, caused her hand to draw a whole line of red from her upper lip all the way to the middle of her right cheek.

A bright red line all the way across her cheek.

Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit OH SHIT!

She let out a string of curses as she wiped off the line.

That was SO embarrassing, and who gets to see it? Draco Malfoy! Arggghhhhh!

She smacked her forehead hard and regained her composure before leaving the washroom, not bothering to look at Malfoy as she felt her face burn.

"Fifteen minutes, Malfoy."
"Yes, Granger," he replied with amusement lacing his tone.

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The whole week was agonizing.

Her traitorous brain constantly reminded her of the lipstick mark incident and she was busy flipping out inwardly while trying to maintain a professional attitude with Malfoy while they continued working together.

Draco Malfoy didn't say or do anything for the entire week, he concentrated on making the best points and arguments for the trial.

While his behaviour was admirable, it was driving Hermione crazy with desire. He was oblivious, uncaring and totally unaffected. The only thing on his mind was the trial, Hermione knew. The only thing on Hermione's mind was him, Draco Malfoy never knew.

Having him so close and for so long was very trying on Hermione. She realized that he clearly didn't feel the way she did so she resorted to concentrating fully on the trial and became a total knockout prosecutor during the day of the trial.

They had managed to send Grayson to prison and it was an enormous success. The press flooded both Hermione and Malfoy after the trial. But despite having such a huge success, there was still no time for fun and games after a long, hard week. They had to stay back at the office to sort out the paperwork.

By the time Hermione's part of the paperwork was done, it was past midnight and she was cranky.

She stretched lazily and yawned widely before standing up. She silently wondered if Malfoy was done with his but then she shook her head and tried to pay it no mind. She gathered her bag and coat and made her way out of the office. Nobody was around at the hour and she simply wanted to go home and rest and sleep for the rest of the week.

It wasn't possible, of course, Kingsley wasn't that generous to give the whole week off after a case.

She entered the lift and was about to close the lift doors when a hand emerged, effectively stopping the lift from closing.

Draco Malfoy entered, and Hermione's breath hitched.

"Granger," he grinned, "Looks like we finished at the same time."
"Yeah, I'm tired," she blinked tiredly and slumped herself at the corner of the lift.

Silence reigned.

"You were incredible this week, Malfoy," Hermione blurt out.
"As were you," he nodded.
"Well, I try," she chuckled darkly, totally aware that she was telling the truth.
"You don't have to," he grinned back.
"Oh, my, is that a compliment from the famous Malfoy?" she narrowed her eyes and laughed.

"Indeed, those things are hard to come by," he said.
"I know," she shook her head.

"Ground floor," the cool female voice rang throughout the lift, marking the end of their lift journey.

"Well, Malfoy, it was a pleasure working with you, as always," she grinned.
Malfoy said nothing, he only nodded.

Hermione thought of gathering herself from the lift wall and walking off, but she stayed on.

Any time now, Hermione's mind reminded her.

She didn't know why she didn't move – it was time to move, the lift door was opened and neither she nor Malfoy were making any signs of leaving.

As for Hermione, she just reasoned that her body was simply too tired to move fast. Or maybe it was the way Malfoy was looking at her. Maybe it was the way her heart was beating madly like a leopard when she was looking at him. Or maybe it was the way Malfoy was cautiously taking steps towards her while the lift door closed … maybe it was the way he intoxicating her with his smell.

He was right in front of her, an inch away – but she didn't make a move. She stayed on, watching Draco Malfoy's stormy grey eyes. They looked almost silver up close.

So close, so close.

Malfoy's eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips, and she did the same to him.

Softly, and slowly, Malfoy raised his hands and reached out to her. His hands slid softly across Hermione's cheeks, before gripping it and holding it in place. His thumb traced her lips and Hermione fought the urge to let her eyes close.

He kept tracing her lips before pressing his thumb against it and effectively smudging her lipstick around her mouth.

It was the sexiest thing to Hermione, how he smudged the lipstick like that and she was going to melt into the floor, evaporate into thin air or spontaneously blow up and it was all Malfoy's fault. She was about to whine about the smudging to Malfoy half-heartedly.

But then Malfoy leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

A sigh escaped Hermione as she leaned in and deepened the kiss.
It only happened for a second before both of them gripped each other as if clinging to dear life and neither had the intention of letting go. Hermione wound her arms around his neck and his around her waist, pressing himself against her.

Hermione, instinctively, wrapped her legs around his waist. If Malfoy's lips weren't so busy, Hermione swore she felt him smile.

Hands were everywhere, chest, sides, hips, hair – they were all over the place.

"Granger," Malfoy began, breaking the kiss but still occasionally nibbling and biting at her lips.
"What?" she opened her eyes, and blinked repeatedly, trying to focus and get out of her daze. She stared at Draco Malfoy's face.

And it had never looked as divine as it did at the moment.

Malfoy, who was equally dazed, had smudges of lipstick around his lips and mouth. Her lipstick.

It looked as if Malfoy was ravished and it was a delicious sight indeed. The fact that it was her lipstick around his mouth and her lips that had been on his to have been able to procure such a beautiful image made Hermione incredibly euphoric.

"Granger," Malfoy said, watching her, "Have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from her delicious mouth and up into his grey eyes.
"Yes," she said.

And then she continued to watch that beautiful, perfect mouth … smudged by her now-favourite lipstick shade. How the colour looked so devilishly striking on his mouth and skin surrounding it.

Love that red, she agreed, as she leaned in to share more of the colour with Malfoy.

Fin.

Reviews please! :3