Author's Note: Hello everyone! Here's another one shot written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition and the theme for this round is 90's Nostalgia! I am Chaser 1 for the Wimbourne Wasps so that means my challenge was to write a Tamagotchi inspired story! I used the optional prompts: (dialogue) "Pay attention to me." (word) barbaric, and (object) jumper/sweater. Hope you enjoy!

She was late. Hermione was never late! Even if the world was ending, she would find a way to set it straight quick enough to arrive at her destination on time! Draco sat at the dining room table, impatiently drumming his fingers against the mahogany wood.

Why was he even bothering to wait? It was her stupid rule anyway. That girl had so many damn rules, but this was the one at the top of her list. They had to spend at least one meal together. Draco knew it had something to do with her muggle family traditions and after she was unable to reverse the memory charm on her parents, he knew it was important for him to follow.

They both held different jobs at the ministry. Hermione started up a new division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, really head of advocacy, her schedule regular, manageable. Draco, on the other hand, had somehow worked his way up to Auror, which meant every day was a new adventure. That was what made Hermione's little rule about meals difficult. Breakfast was a rush, as Hermione always wanted to arrive at the ministry astonishingly early and Draco ran out when he got called in or whenever he had the mental capacity to work on a case. Lunch was inconsistent, their breaks tending to differ. But dinner was the one meal they had found they could be home at the same time. They had to eat dinner together.

The rule was important to her. It was keeping her family traditions alive. Draco tried to reason with his protesting stomach, repeating in his mind why he needed to keep waiting.

He huffed, pulling out his wand to reheat the food for a third time. This was getting ridiculous! Draco groaned as his stomach made another loud gurgling noise.

Enough was enough. Hermione would just have to be disappointed. He licked his lips as he determinedly grabbed the fork and stabbed into the piece of chicken on his plate.

Just as he lifted the first bite to his mouth, he heard the front door open and close.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione called from the hall.

"You better be!" Draco yelled, dropping the fork back to his plate. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting? I can tell you right now, I will not be doing this again! This is what I get for trying to make my wife happy-" he fell silent as Hermione moved into the dining room, a little grey ball of fluff in her arms. "What the bloody hell is that?"

She looked down at the creature.

"A kitten," she answered.

Draco was shocked, searching for the right words to voice the thousands of questions whizzing through his head. She brought a dirty, obnoxious, probably destructive fur ball, into their house. He'd thought they had an understanding. He'd thought he had made it very clear that her work and their home life were to be separate. It was sweet that she cared about creatures and wizards alike, but their home was for people. People. Draco thought she respected rules; he knew she did. But with a queasy feeling, he remembered the adventures she had been a part of with Potter and Weasley during her time at Hogwarts, many of which had included an astonishing amount of rule breaking.

"Why?" he managed to ask.

"I believe it was born that way," she said, wearing a patronizing expression, which she could have only learned from him.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Fine," she replied, pulling out the chair to sit beside him. "I saw him on my way home, lying there, thrown out like trash. Couldn't just leave him." She glanced down at the soft animal curled against her. "I thought… I thought maybe we could take him in-"

"No. No. Absolutely not!" Draco told her adamantly. "Take it back," he said, pointing down the hall towards the door.

"Draco, look at him," she begged. "How can you turn this face away?"

As if on cue, the little kitten untucked its head and stared directly at him with wide eyes, voicing a small, whimpered meow. But Draco was immune to cute. This wouldn't faze him. Draco shook his head and shoved a bite of chicken into his mouth dismissively. The argument was over, and he was famished.

She didn't say a word, just looked at him intently, her eyes soft, yet, somehow set with determination. There was very little Draco Malfoy could be moved by, but one thing, he had learned, could shake him: her. Hermione Granger, the girl he had teased and taunted, whom his family had despised and who'd been tortured on the floor of his own home, had somehow come back and changed everything, changed him. He'd thought he had known who he was: a monster, lost forever to the pit of darkness into which he had fallen. He'd faced the courts, the eyes of ridicule, his own endless shame, but Hermione never gave up, she wouldn't stop believing that there was another side to him, that he could be saved.

Hermione had used the authority she'd gained as a war hero to give him a second chance. She hadn't liked him, and he hadn't liked her, but she saw something no one else did. Through the dislike, she saw a human being who needed some help to pull themselves from the rubble that they were abandoned in. After he had narrowly escaped an Azkaban sentence, she didn't see the evil bastard everyone else did, but the potential he had always shown and the good he could still accomplish in this world. It was that push to be better that gave him the motivation to prevent another child from being dragged through the darkness he had experienced. It gave him the incentive he needed wade through the treacherous waters of others assumptions to make a difference as an Auror. Sure enough, she was right about him. She always was. Oh, how things had changed from those days of mutual disapproval.

And now, she didn't even have to say a word to change his mind, to soften that cold exterior and make him want to do anything to make her smile. Draco sighed and placed the fork back down, swallowing his bite of food, now dry and chewy from being reheated so often.

"You really think we can even keep that thing alive?" he asked sceptically.

"We were both top of every class, I'm sure we can figure it out," she said flippantly.

"Alright," he gave in.

And there it was, the smile that ignited a little light within him and spread a glowing warmth to the pit of his still empty stomach.

"But can we please eat before we do anything else?" Draco begged, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded.

"Good idea. I am quite hungry."

Draco rolled his eyes at her comment before digging into the meal.

After the food was gone and the dishes were washed and put away, it was time to take care of their new ward. Draco stared at it, narrowing his eyes as the animal pawed its way across the kitchen floor.

"What does this thing even eat?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the kitten. It wasn't as though he had ever needed to take care of anything before.

"This thing will be called Tama from now on, and I've got it all taken care of. Made a stop on the way home to pick up some things," Hermione explained.

"You knew I'd cave?" he glanced at her.

She shrugged. "You're quite predictable."

"I am not!" Draco insisted, feeling a little insulted that she would say such a thing.

"You kind of are," she replied and with a small laugh, moved through the dining room and down the hall, returning with two bags. "This one's food, the other's for his bathroom." Hermione set one on the floor, the bag of food on the counter and pulled out a tin can. "Grab me a bowl from the cupboard, would you?" she asked, popping the lid open.

Draco didn't move, but pulled out his wand and levitated the dish toward her.

"I'm not calling it Tama," Draco stated.

"Why not?" Hermione didn't bother looking up from scooping the disgusting substance into the bowl.

"Because it's a shit name," he reasoned.

She glared at him. "I rather liked it."

Draco thought about arguing, but since he really didn't care about the animal, he decided it wouldn't be worth the fight that she'd probably win in the end anyway.

"Fine." He stared back at her. "We'll call it Tama."

"Come here, Tama. I've got dinner for you too," Hermione cooed, setting the food down on the tiled floor.

The little grey kitten bounced over, tail up with excitement, and began licking up the strange gooey stuff happily.

"The box is still in the front room, could you grab it for me?" Hermione asked, contently watching Tama eat.

"The box?" Draco clarified.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, the box. The one we put the litter in. You don't want Tama to go to the bathroom on the floor, do you?"

"Definitely not," he huffed under his breath, moving to get the creature's toilet.

What had he just gotten himself into?

It was three-o-clock in the morning when Tama decided it was time to wake up. A loud meow filled the room followed by scampering feet and a long rip.

"What's that?" Draco groaned and rolled over in the bed.

"We took in a kitten, remember?"

"Bloody hell, what've you done?" Draco grumbled, covering his head with the sheets.

"Me? You agreed," Hermione croaked.

"You made me," he insisted. "Fix it."

"Excuse me?" Hermione was up in an instant. "We're doing this together! I may have brought him home, but we are both going to deal with this. You don't get to order me around to fix it! I'm not your house-elf, Draco!"

He rolled off the bed and moaned, rubbing a hand across his tired eyes. "What've I done?" he groaned, referring more to the fight he obviously just started.

A crash had them both on their feet, running from the room.

A second sound of smashing glass brought them to the kitchen, where the small creature was standing on the table, tail straight in the air, and looking far too pleased with itself.

"Not my vase." Hermione stared at the shattered center piece on the floor. "That's the one Harry got me for Christmas last year."

With a meow, the kitten leapt from the table and scurried to the next room.

The two followed only to find more disaster.

"Why! Why!" Draco yelled in frustration as he came across the large tear in his top of the line sofa. "What does it want!"

"We fed him last night, he has a place to go to the bathroom," Hermione listed.

"Shit," Draco cursed, rubbing his forehead as he made his way to where they had sat up the litter box. It was completely dumped upside down, its putrid contents smeared across the floor. "Fu-

Meow.

"Get rid of it!" he yelled.

"Draco, I think I know what's going on. He's just a baby, he wants us," Hermione explained, coming up behind him. "I think he wants to play." She held up a tiny silver ball and the kitten's eyes followed the movement. "Transfigured it from the broken glass. I thought it would keep him distracted."

The moment the toy bounced down the hall, Tama scurried after it, bopping it from side to side with his paws.

"Are you planning to stay up all night, every night to keep it happy? Entertained?" Draco accused.

"Well, no," she admitted.

Draco threw his hands up angrily. "We've got to contain it! It's going to destroy my house!"

"Our house," Hermione corrected.

"Fine, our house, whatever. Point is, that thing can't just get everything it wants from us! I need sleep, Hermione!"

"I know. I know we can't be here all the time." She began to pace back and forth down the hall. "I know we can't sustain that. I'm thinking, Draco!"

She let out a deep breath, hand coming to rest over her head. Hermione looked to him as though she thought he had some sort of idea.

"What do you suppose we do then?" she asked, then added with a warning tone, "Not getting rid of him."

"We could lock him in a cage for the night," Draco suggested. That would solve all their problems.

"That's barbaric!" Hermione yelled. "How would you like to be locked in a small cage for hours!"

"Never said it had to be small." She slapped his arm, hard.

"No," Hermione insisted.

Meow.

Draco ground his teeth at the sound. "You apparently know what it wants, so what now?"

"I threw a ball. Once. He probably just wants some attention, someone to play with-"

"Well, it's not going to get everything it wants in life. Going to have to learn sooner or later!" he shouted, fed up with this animal.

"He's only a baby-"

"Can I break things when I want to play? When I want you to listen to me?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"You're a grown man," she rationalized.

"So? Pay attention to me!" he squealed in a high pitched, whiny voice. "Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me!"

"That's just childish," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest and brushing past him to find the cat.

"Fine! " Draco yelled. "You go play with the little devil, I'm going back to bed! It better not ruin anything else while I'm asleep!" He marched back to their room and slammed the door behind him.

Sighing, he collapsed onto the bed. It was her choice to bring that awful, needy thing home so it was her responsibility.

Of course, now he couldn't sleep. His mind kept replaying his actions, again and again. He rolled over, sighing. If he was honest with himself, he knew exactly what he was getting into the moment he admitted he had feelings for the girl. Her heart was too big. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, especially considering her current line of work and unwavering desire to help everyone who crossed her path.

He'd deal with it all in the morning, right now, he needed to sleep. In the morning, he would apologize. In the morning, everything would be fine. In the morning.

She kept popping into his mind. Draco tried to fight it, but that feeling of guilt only she could raise in him kept creeping into his thoughts, making his stomach feel tight. She only wanted to help someone, or something, and he was going to leave her to do it alone. Hermione was far too good for him.

Draco sat up in the bed once again, dragging his fingers through his hair. The situation was comical, and, even five years ago, he would have hexed the person who told him he'd be doing this. But with a deep breath, he rose from the bed, opened the door, and headed down the hall in search of Hermione.

He stopped when he saw her asleep on the torn sofa. She had the tiny animal tightly wrapped in her pink, muggle jumper and held against her chest as she curled herself around it. Draco couldn't help but smile at the sight.

They might fight constantly, she might drive him absolutely bonkers and bring out the worst, most childish behaviour from him, but he loved her.

Draco moved to sit beside her on the sofa and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He loved her.

Beta'd by the lovely lun27!