I got pulled in (fantasized all day) and wrote another chapter. Once again, if there is demand I will continue.
Chloe Bell had been Hermione Grangers assistant for the past six months, which was notable, as it was the longest Hermione had managed to keep an assistant in her five-year career with the ministry. Hermione credited this to Chloe being 'reasonably competent'. Coming from Hermione Granger it meant any senior official in the Ministry would willingly offer Chloe a job without so much as an interview. If she wanted to leave Hermione of course, which she did not especially now things were getting interesting.
"Mocha Latte?" Chloe thrust it into her hand the moment the elevator doors opened. "You look, different." Hermione's sweaty dishevelled appearance and untucked shirt were completely out of character, she was running late and glanced at her watch in agitation.
"I went to Brockhurst's bootcamp at the park. It ran over."
"Oh god, what happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well something terrible must have happened this weekend. You hate that boot camp, It's brutal." From her desk, outside Hermione's door, she leant sideward to watch as Hermione bustled around, swiftly changing into a neat navy dress and clipping up her wild curls.
"More terrible than my Fiancé cheating on me?"
"Oh yes, he sent you more flowers by the way, did you really throw a drink over him?" Chloe swivelled on her chair, picking up a large bouquet of red roses that sat by her feet. "The least he deserved if you ask me."
"…this is why I went to boot camp." Hermione considered for a moment that Ronald Weasley had very little to do with why she'd spent the morning killing herself with cardio on a cold, wet, field. But she was NOT going to pull at that thread today!
"Did it at least help?"
"Well I woke up hating myself, and now I hate Brockhurst instead…so yes kind of."
Chloe listened silently, something seemed weird. "What do you want me to do with the flowers?"
"Do you like them?"
"They're ok, a bit tacky though."
A snort of amusement came from Hermione's office. "That sounds about right for Ronald. If you don't like them, bin them."
Considering her options, Chloe decided binning them was a waste. "I can't figure out what he's trying to achieve you know. Is he trying to reconcile of just make you not hate him?"
Hermione emerged from her office, poise and organisation restored, and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, or care. But make sure he can't access the 6th floor."
"I already did."
"Or Lavender."
"I told resource she'd quit. Had her pass revoked completely."
Latte in one hand Hermione picked up the folders from the edge of Chloe's desk with her other and smiled. "Well, lets hope that gets resolved quickly and without Lavender being subjected to the usual weeks of paper work and tedious admin."
Chloe grinned, "Fingers crossed. Oh! It's Imelda's birthday today, shall I give her the flowers?"
"Perfect, at least they'll make somebody happy".
Back to the elevator she went. Monday mornings were always manic and today was no exception, back to back in meetings until late afternoon and no chance of lunch.
"Would you grab me a sandwich at some point?" she asked, and Chloe nodded.
The elevator was busy and Hermione's sensible heels were barely planted inside before she heard Chloe call out, "Oh I almost forgot, the Department of International Magical Cooperation called. They need to see you, it's urgent so I crashed your one O'clock."
Aware of the other passengers, shuffling and mumbling patiently, Hermione held the door just long enough for Chloe to run a green folder to her. Piling it on top of her already overflowing pile she glanced the title 'Goblin Expatriate Home Ownership Rights – Russia' – Oh this was going to be a giant headache.
"Who am I meeting?"
"Draco Malfoy." Chloe replied as the elevator doors slid shut and Hermione almost dropped her latte.
"Hermione, what do you think?", Angelica Simmons asked.
"I'm sorry what?" She'd let her mind wander for the hundredth time and now pawed over her notes frantically.
"About Centaur preservation area's only being allocated outside of muggle population?"
The clock on the far wall ticked over to twelve forty-five, the morning had been slow and un productive, which irritated her.
"Well, it depends what parameters we use to classify muggle population and of course it will have to mirror the rights in other countries as closely as possible. Other than that, it seems completely logical to me." She shifted uncomfortably in her fitted navy dress. Blaise Zambini, who sat opposite, had been watching her a little too intently throughout.
"We can bring up with IMC but I doubt we'll get a response before year end." Angelica replied, as the room began shuffle papers and rise from their seats in anticipation of an early finish.
"I'm actually heading down to IMC after this, I can bring it up if you like?"
Angelica nodded and blinked several times, "Oh, well if you don't mind."
"No problem."
Luckily Hermione's seat was right beside the door, but that didn't stop a few of the eager delegates from climbing past her, briefcases knocking her shoulders. In the corridor she hesitated, did she have time for a sandwich? No, probably not but she could grab a snack bar from the café at least!
"Hermione!" It was Blaise Zambini's voice, he waited a few feet behind her and held out his hand for her to shake. Odd.
"Did I hear you say that you were heading down to IMC now?"
His smile was warm and open and sparked pure terror in her. Did he know? It hadn't occurred to her for one moment that Malfoy might tell anyone.
"Yes"
Her hesitance was clearly noted, "Can I walk you down?" It was a statement masquerading as a question and she knew this because he didn't pause for a reply, instead extending his arm to lead the way. "Daphne and I were hoping to catch you at the reunion. Look, I know we weren't exactly close at school but we were sorry to hear about what happened with Ron. That was completley out of order."
Releasing her breath Hermione relaxed, this was probably just pity. "I didn't hang around very long."
The third floor was her least favourite floor, she decided, as she clutched the green folder closely to her and they descended in the elevator. Blaise eyed it curiously, "What's bringing you to IMC?" he asked.
"Goblin Home Owner rights"
"Russia?"
"Yes"
He rolled his eyes, "Oh good luck. That's Draco's now isn't it? I thought they'd postponed it?"
"Apparently not."
Grey walls and sleek wooden floors felt like she was visiting a high-end clinic. Blaise subtly guided them along the corridor and out into a large reception area where a bank of Assistants glanced up from their papers.
"Hermione Granger, for Draco Malfoy I believe." Blaise said, to a woman with large rimmed glasses who looked Hermione up and down before picking up her phone.
"Right, well Daphne works just down there." Blaise said pointing to a small corridor jutting off to the left.
"Thanks, I'll…see you around then."
"I'm sure you will…. Draco mate! Where the hell did you disappear to the other night?" Blaise grinned.
Hermione heard footsteps come to a dead stop behind her and her stomach did a little flip when she heard him clear his throat.
"Paid my respects to the old common room." He said, with annoying control.
"We'd have come with you if we'd known. God, we had some good times there didn't we?"
"The best." Malfoy cleared his throat again and she could feel him smirk. "Granger. I believe you're here for me?"
"Yes Malfoy. You and these incredibly urgent Goblin matters!"
Blaise's gaze lingered a moment too long before he smiled again "Right, well, Daphne will be waiting."
"What are you playing at?" She snapped, the moment his office door was closed.
"Excuse me?" Draco glanced with badly hidden judgement at her Honey Dukes snack bar she has opened. His office was large, but not larger than her own. However, it did have far less clutter.
"I mean it Malfoy."
In his work suit he looked more like a regular person than he had in black tie robes. Although the suit was clearly hand made and preposterously expensive.
"I didn't call you here because of that… "
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "No, you called me here about the twelve British Goblins currently residing in Russia? None of whom have expressed any issue with home ownership? Come on Malfoy, this has been kicking around for months and you expect me to believe it suddenly became an emergency the Monday after we…" She lowered her voice significantly, unsure how sound proof his office was, "…after we..."
"Fucked. Or would you prefer 'made passionate love'?"
Hot blood rushed to her cheeks, "We did not do that!"
"No, we didn't. Anyway Granger, awfully sorry to disappoint you but on Friday evening one our Ex-pat Goblins had his home repossessed by the Russian muggle government. The cover muggle, whose name the house had been listed under passed away and nobody realised. That's why you're here."
"Oh." She hated that her cheeks burnt, "Right, well surely that'll be Russia's jurisdiction."
Draco rubbed the back of his neck, "You know what they're like with Ex-pats. I thought you should know, just in case."
Her snack bar tasted of cherries and humiliation. "Well, thanks Malfoy. I didn't mean to insinuate…"
"That I was using work as a cheap play to get back into those lacey knickers?"
"Can you not?"
He feigned innocence, "Not what?"
"Bring up our, indiscretion."
"Is that what you've decided it was?"
"Yes", she stood to leave and picked up her folder but was intercepted her by the door. The same foreign cologne but this time on a not so foreign body.
"That's not exactly how I remember it Granger."
"Well you were intoxicated."
Her waspyness only encouraged him, against the door frame he closed the gap between them.
"To clarify, which part am I mis remembering? The ripping off your panties?"
Mortified was not a strong enough word, she was tempted to bolt but she couldn't outrun the truth, she wasn't even sure she wanted to. This had been a risky decision, yes, but hell if it didn't make her feel like less of a bloody helpless victim at Ron's hands.
"Or the part where you put your nipples in my mouth?"
Her eyes fluttered closed,
"Or the part where you came around my cock?"
Quit her job and move to Russia! It was the only answer.
"Or was it the part where I put my thumb up your…?"
"That's quite enough!" Eyes snapping open she smoothed down her dress with shaky hands. "No need for a play by plays Malfoy, we were both there."
He quirked his brow, quizzically, "Oh, it's just you seemed to have forgotten, for a moment there."
"Well you've reminded me, so thank you for that!"
"Happy to help Granger." Their proximity was becoming insufferable and she couldn't stop watching his lips as they moved.
"Do you regret it?" He asked, a sobering tone to his otherwise antagonistic manner.
"Nobody can know Malfoy, Never."
She felt strangely giddy for a moment, like she had more control over the situation than she'd originally thought.
"That's not an answer."
His answer came with the sudden, unexpected touch of her lips to his own. His arms encased her on instinctually whilst he groaned into her open mouth. A shudder ran through her body. "Never?" She repeated.
"Never!" he agreed, searching her eyes like a hungry predator.
She clawed at the buttons of his shirt whilst he chewed on her bare shoulder. "This doesn't mean.." she moaned, "We're not..." she groaned, "We shouldn't..."
Her navy skirt up around her waist he grinded against her damp spot "Granger" He growled.
"Yes"
"Shut up."
He would have slid her lace panties to the side and made her legs convulse on the spot, and she would have let him ...had it not been for the loud Knock on the office door.
"Bugger." He cursed,
Tugging her dress back down she sprang away from him like a startled cat.
Grabbing her folder and half eaten snack bar he opened the door for her, revealing the impatient face of Pansy Parkinson, "Finally! Where were you, we had lunch plans remember?"
Upon seeing Granger scuttle out she scrunched her nose to express her distaste. "...and there I was worried you were having a better time with somebody else."
"There was an emergency. Something came up." He said, his visible irritation escaping her.
Pansy looked him up and down, before pausing at his crotch and swanning past him into the now empty office. "You can say that again." She grinned, "At least part of you is pleased to see me."
At the end of the corridor he could see Granger waiting for the elevator, she glanced back toward his office nervously, a familiar look of morality and guilt furrowing her brow.
