Fun-fact: The first fanfiction I've ever written was HP.
Title: Quelled
Summary:
Characters: Draco, Hermione... I thought it was obvious... mentions of Harry and Ron, I dunno if I'll stick them in here.
Disclaimer: I do not own the HP series.
Prompt: for kittenmymittens , because she really wanted kinda good quality Dramione. I feel so bad for her. If you're disappointed with this one, I'll write you something different with the same pairing. Also, let me know if they're OOC, I haven't written Draco in a while.
It was a cycle. Seeing each other every day. They both worked at the "newly revised" ministry, much to Ron's (and not so much Harry's) protest. They had to do something during the summer, right? Although Ron insisted that Harry was just as equally quelled - Hermione doubted that Ron knew what that word meant, especially since he used it in the wrong pretext, twice - with this development, Harry had yet to write a response to her multiple letters inquiring of this exact subject - perhaps his silence was an answer in itself. Nevertheless, Hermione continued to ignore Ron's (and apparently Harry's as well) warnings about the viper with daggers as teeth drenched in a poisonous concoction called "false charm". Really, Ron could be so ridiculous with his accusations sometimes. Didn't he realize that it hurt feelings?
Well, it probably did not bruise Draco's ego, but still, someone else could have been easily quelled - that was the proper usage of the word, by the way. Anyway, it was inexcusable to just accuse someone of pretending to be nice. If someone was pretending to be nice then that would mean that they're still being civil, meaning that they actually are being nice by not passively ripping someone's head off. Really. Ron could be such a dunce.
That was also a large part of the cycle. Ron would burst into the room while simultaneously accusing Draco of putting the moves on Hermione (to which she would reply, "I'm not five" or "I can take care of myself") and looking like an idiot in front of at least five dignitaries. His current record was seventeen people from nine different countries. Harry never thought that the language barrier was as much of a problem as it was then.
Another part of the cycle included Draco and Hermione not plotting each other's murder. Why? Well, they were assigned to the same department because the new minister of magic wanted to dispel this prejudice against "muggle-borns" and "half-bloods". It was apparently all the same to her because as long as they could perform magic, they were considered to be pretty much the same; whether they had money or not - thus giving them more power - that was up to debate, but the newly elected minister wanted to make sure that everyone was treated equally. Instead of pointing out the fact that because their bloodlines were different was the reason why they had to spend time together, Hermione just nodded politely and smiled (while inwardly plotting Draco's untimely death, as was he). Hermione took an immediate liking to her and planned lunches with her every other Thursday. Long story short: Hermione and Draco were being forced to be civil together.
Almost immediately Draco threatened to behead the women in sixty different ways both figuratively and literally. Hermione thought she handled it very well. The minister stood up from her wooden chair (she insisted upon getting rid of that garish piece of furniture a Spanish King once called a throne - this only made Hermione love the woman even more), looked Draco straight in the eye and told him that if he was really going to threaten her that he should file a complaint first.
Hermione nearly proposed to the woman.
Draco, on the other hand, was a little more than less than smitten.
Surprisingly enough, it really wasn't all that hard for the pair. At first, they were at each other's throats, but then the minister threatened to subject them to something called "couple therapy"; they didn't need to be non-wizards to know what that meant. So, for the past two months, Draco and Hermione have been comrades - totally not plotting each other's murder. At least, that's what they told each other when the cycle started.
However, in between forgotten lunches and misplaced hands, the pair had grown closer together. So much so, that Ron became suspicious and immediately told Harry instead of confronting Hermione himself. Harry replied to his frantic letter by telling him to grow a pair, and just ask Hermione herself. They're friends - they were lovers at one point, and they fought a war together. If Hermione was really doing something other than filing papers and looking up old documents with Draco, she would tell him.
So, Ron heeded Harry's advice and decided to do just that. He marched right up to her office slammed the door open to see that bastard canoodling with Hermione! "Hermione!" Ron said in that tone - the one where it feels like someone just murdered a calf right in front of him while simultaneously murdering a baby, like someone had done him so wrong that it must be restored.
Hermione looked up from her paperwork, which Draco was proof-reading over her shoulder, to give him a raised eyebrow and a clearly not amused look. Draco, who was used to idiots and all their antics, took Hermione's place in her chair and continued to proof-reading her forms.
"I'll be back in a minute, Draco." Hermione called over her shoulder.
Pen halfway out of his mouth, Draco looked up from her work to give her a smirk and remark with the utmost nonchalance Hermione has ever seen, "Hurry back, darling."
And that's when Ron began to sputter. "Darling? You're gonna let him call you 'darling', Hermione? You're just gonna sit there and-"
"Ron." Hermione snapped, "Enough, he's only saying that-"
"-but-but-"
"-because he knows he'll get a rise out of you." she finished, louder than he did, thus making her the victor of their very short and almost nonexistent argument. "Now why are you here?" she asked, setting her hands on her hips.
Ron promptly turned the color of a tomato. "But-but- Malfoy - you-you- darling! And-and file... cabinets."
Hermione's brow creased, "Ron?" she asked, worried for his well-being. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he mumbled, "Mum wants me to... something." Then, he left.
"That was weird." Hermione mumbled, as she walked back over to her seat, fully expecting Draco to be a gentlemen and move. Which he didn't do, because she apparently needed to build up a resistance to standing up for more than five minutes.
Draco continued brutally abusing her paperwork and insulting everything she was working on for the past five minutes. Hermione huffed in aggravation; really, Draco could be so rude sometimes. Why did that surprise her? He was a complete jerk to her when she was a kid. He was still a jerk to her sometimes. Why was she so nice to him again?
"Oh?" he replied noncommittally, "that's nice."
Obviously, he wasn't paying attention. "Harry thinks I have a crush on you." Hermione proclaimed loudly. It was also true, too; Harry did think someone had a crush on someone, except it was the other way around. Of course, Hermione didn't believe him; this was Draco, not Ron. Harry clearly did not know what he was talking - or writing, for that matter - about.
"Hm." That disappointed her. Still no response?
Hermione frowned before getting a mischievously clever idea. Hermione circled around to where he was and leaned over his shoulder to examine his grammatical corrections. "I think he's right." she finished wistfully after hearing the satisfying sound of Draco choking on his very hot coffee. Which, in fact, occurred to be strange to Hermione because Draco disliked all things not magical, and coffee and definitely muggle-made and American. It was a double whammy. Then again, doing something as foolish and rash as she just did was also uncharacteristically amusing. No wonder she was a Gryffindor.
"Pardon me?" he asked in between hacks and chokes, perhaps thinking that his ears were failing him or his secretary put something other than sugar in his coffee this morning.
Instead of answering, Hermione just smiled and exited the office, heels clicking in her wake.
The blond scrambled out of her chair and flew to the threshold of the doorway to their shared office, sticking his head out and calling after her embarrassingly. "Hey! Granger! That's not an answer!"