Author's Notes: I've been beating my head against a wall trying to write this, but finally it's here, lol. Hope you enjoy! :]

Chapter Four. Not What They Expected.

She wanted to know, but his reasons weren't clear,

They both wanted to go, and ignore the growing fear.

Give me a call, the next time you come by my way,

And deep down inside of you is where I will stay

Draco Malfoy was startled. He felt like someone had just Confunded him. That spell was a favourite of Hermione Granger's after all.

But shit, she had been right. Yeah, he had feelings for her, but Draco had come here to grope, molest, and fuck her, hoping it would get her out of his system. The warmth of her grip was still on him, even though she'd already let go, and the half-stock in his pants was waiting with longing to be whole.

Hermione Granger stood in front of him, panting, hot, and sexy; her breasts rose and fell heavily with her breathing and he was struggling to focus on her comment, rather than her curves. There were so many reasons this – whatever this was – could never work long term. Not the least of which was that he hadn't been joking when he'd told himself that his parents would never let it happen.

'What do I say?' He asked himself. 'What do I say? What do I say? What do I say?'

There was no answer to this mantra inside his head. Instead, he closed his eyes and attempted to calm himself. Perhaps, if she saw him struggling, she would take pity. He couldn't tell her that he didn't want this to go past sex and winning the bet they had made. It seemed so trivial now, betting on who would give in to the other first. But give in how, and what exactly were the spoils for the winner?

He couldn't remember addressing this point with Granger.

He needed to get rid of his half-stock, and tried to "think unsexy thoughts". An image of Weasley standing in front of him naked made him shiver, but it did the trick. His dick still throbbed painfully at the memory of pressing up against Granger's bundle of nerves, but at least he could leave this room without drawing attention to himself. He had not really been completely erect anyway, just on his way there.

"Draco?" She asked softly, startling him into opening his eyes. She looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

Draco swallowed heavily. Suddenly he wanted to blurt it all out, to tell her she meant nothing to him, and to give her a reason to hate him. But the words stuck in his throat. It would sound a lie anyway, at least to his ears. He backed away from her and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I h-have to g-go," he said lamely, quickly fixing up his pants and made a beeline for the door.

Hermione let him go without as much as a word, fixing up her own clothes. She was disappointed, but not entirely surprised. She wanted to sleep with him, but not if he was just using her, or intended to use their encounter for blackmail, bribery or just his own satisfaction. In the end, the decision on whether or not to go any further had to be mutual as well as meaningful.

She sighed, sat down on her chair, and struggled not to cry. No, he wasn't worth crying over. But she couldn't help herself, and folded her arms on her desk, laying her head down on them. Had she just completely humiliated herself, or Draco?

Hermione did not sob however, the tears falling with graceful dignity. She went over in her mind what had just happened, that sex dream she'd had about him and how he had seemed so amorous in her imagination, and then worked his way into her heart the moment he strutted into her office. How did he hold so much power over her? He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake! That tall, blonde, strutting, and arrogant chauvinist was…Goddamned sexy! She groaned, annoyed with herself. Trust her to fall for a guy who's idea of romance was something concocted by Muggle-lovers. She sat up straight.

'No! I will not start feeling sorry for myself now!' She thought stubbornly.

But the horrifying thought that she had just ruined something amazing made her sick to her stomach.

X X X

Kingsley Shacklebolt saw the Malfoy boy running from Miss Granger's office and was concerned. He looked terrified, but confused and the ministry appointed escorts were annoyed, judging by their expressions. He had a meeting to go to, so Kingsley made a note to visit Granger and see if something was wrong then. It could wait, as he did not even contemplate the possibility that what was wrong was not professional, but personal.

Harry Potter was waiting in his office, resolute. This was no life and death emergency, but he needed to speak with the minister over the new legislations and the directive that was still imprisoning people in Azkaban. Harry was in charge of separating the innocent from the guilty, but like Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, he was fighting a lot of important people to keep the pace of releasing people who were innocent.

Well, perhaps it was life and death, considering people could die in that prison. Harry had personally experienced what the Dementors were capable of, but thankfully had not done so in Azkaban. In there, he would not be afforded a wand to cast the Expecto Patronus charm.

"Harry my boy," Kingsley said jovially as he closed the door to his office. "Sorry I'm running late. There's a snafu up in the catering department and they didn't have my favourite pasties on the menu."

Harry chuckled. "Of course, I completely understand."

They shook hands in greeting and Harry returned to his seat as Kingsley sat down in his own.

"So, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?" The minister asked.

"Well, quite frankly, I need more support. That weasel of a man, Gundry Horne is impeding my petition to the Azkaban custodian." Harry sighed. "I think the warden is paying him to stay the pardons I've proposed."

He handed a leaflet to the minister. "See for yourself."

Kingsley read over the report. "It does indeed look as if he's doing this, but –"

"I need your permission to interrogate him," Harry finished for him. "I know. That's why I'm here."

"Does the Auror head agree with this?"

"Yes sir. In fact you should be getting an interdepartmental memo from him later today."

Kingsley nodded and put the report on his desk. "As soon as it comes in I will sign off on this. Providing it all checks out." He smiled at Harry. "I must say, you're doing a great job Harry. Most people in your position cave into bribes, blackmails, or overbearing officials."

"Really? Well I suppose you could say I've never been one to give into peer pressure."

If he did, he'd be living at number twelve Grimmauld Place and not renting an apartment in London. He was waiting on Ginny as well as the permit to build over the memorial in the ruins of his old home in Godric Hollow. He wanted to live there again, and Ginny had seemed intrigued by the idea of moving in with him. He just needed to rebuild, which was made difficult due to the illusion spells cast on it by ministry officials that only ministry officials can lift, not to mention the law about rebuilding on such grounds that he needed to consider.

He sighed. He had his work cut out for him, both personally and professionally.

They were interrupted by Hermione Granger. She looked worse for wear.

"Are you okay Hermione?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, her body trembling. She was not faking this, but was also determined to lie about other things. After all, she needed to get out of here!

"Minister," she said, "I wonder if I might get your permission to take a few days off of work."

X X X

Draco was miserable after leaving Hermione's office. He wandered a bit, but when his ministry appointed "escorts" started to get anxious, he headed toward the only place he could think of. He had heard on his way to the office of the head of the Department of Interdepartmental Cooperation that morning about some problem down at the catering department with their debacle over the error in pastry orders and decided to pretend that was where he was supposed to be. They needed the help and besides, it gave him time to think over what had happened with Hermione. There were errands to run, owls to send and someone needed to take the Floo network over to Diagon Alley and check in with The Pastry Shop.

Draco personally did not remember there being one there, but sure enough, when he arrived, the directions he'd received led him straight to it. It looked new, less than twelve months old. That was why he'd never seen it before. He hadn't been to Diagon Alley for longer than that. A house elf did the Malfoy groceries these days. It was a ministry elf, sent to them so that they needn't starve due to his parent's house arrest.

'The joke's on them,' Draco thought sarcastically. 'Mother always sent house elves to do the grocery shopping.'

That was what they were there for after all – doing the chores, and running the errands, nobody wanted to do. Not that he expected Hermione to agree, or understand. Draco cursed himself. He browsed the small shop, grateful for an excuse to have gotten out of the ministry, but not entirely at ease. His escorts waited near the door, but kept him in sight at all times. Yes, they frustrated him, beyond words, but at least they weren't some brunette Muggle-born trying to unravel him with their need to be loved.

He sighed. Truth be told, he understood Hermione's position, but was in no hurry to admit that she was right to expect more than just sex. He had never thought about who he might love once their years at Hogwarts were over. It was his duty as a Malfoy to choose some pure-blood, marry, have a child, and pass on that tradition. Did he really want any more than that?

He kept picturing her heaving breasts and luscious lips in his mind's eye. He throbbed at the thought and forced himself to calm down. There was no way he was getting an erection from just imagining her naked, and in public! But he couldn't get her out of her mind. She wouldn't leave him alone. Was it possible to be stalked by a desire?

Draco stepped up to the man behind the counter in a hurry to purge Hermione from his mind by concentrating on the job at hand.

"Good day sir!" The man said warmly, and then peered at him. "Draco Malfoy?"

Draco looked up at him properly. "Do I know you?"

The man was not shabby, but had a distinctly unrefined look to him. His hair was blonde and ruffled and his face beamed as though addressing an old friend. He was taller than the Malfoy before him and at least twice his age. How did he know him?

He nodded. "Yes, I was at your hearing in the ministry."

Draco frowned. "What were you doing there?"

The man chuckled. "I was a reporter."

"But not now." That wasn't a question. It was obvious this man had changed professions.

He nodded. "But where are my manners. My name is Royle Skeeter."

Draco raised his eyebrows in shock. "Related to Rita Skeeter?"

Royle sighed. "Yes. She was the one that got me into journalistic investigation. But I don't miss it, or her." He cleared his throat. "Can I help you with something Mister Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, relieved to be freed of this conversation, and withdrew the letter from his pocket. He handed it to the man, and waited for a response as he read it. It talked about the pastry debacle in the ministry and Royle glanced up at Draco once he was done.

"You an errand boy now?"

Draco felt annoyed. "No. I'm just helping out."

Royle nodded. "Wait a minute, I'll head out back and get the order."

He disappeared through the door behind him. Draco waited impatiently, glancing absentmindedly at his escorts before the shopkeeper returned, his arms laden with a pallet of pasties. Now he understood why that woman in the catering department had been concerned about sending him to come get this. It looked heavy and Draco glanced back at his escorts.

"They with you?" Royle asked, noticing his attention diverting. He then trotted over to them. "You two look like strapping men. Would you carry these back to the ministry for Mister Malfoy?"

They looked put out and Draco almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

Finally, a combination of Royle's bothersome personality and a desire to leave culminated in the escorts agreeing to becoming pack mules. Draco smiled slightly, holding back the full force of his smirk. It wouldn't do to annoy them, he supposed.

He bid farewell to Royle and led the way back to the Leaky Cauldron and the Floo network.

X X X

Draco was not surprised to hear that Hermione had gone home. He helped the catering department out for a while longer before the minister for magic himself told him he could go home. She had the next few days off, but Draco was expected to return tomorrow and continue helping out. Apparently, doing odd jobs around the ministry was his punishment for Hermione Granger falling sick. He didn't believe it for one moment, not that he could blame her.

His parents were surprised to see him home early again but he waved away their concerns and told him he wasn't feeling well to get out of sitting down to eat with them. This was their fault more than anything. How was he supposed to have feelings for a Muggle-born and bend to his parent's idea of the perfect wife to carry on the Malfoy tradition?

He was not supposed to, that's what! How could he do this to himself? He had to get Granger out of his head, but the only idea that had sounded plausible was the one he couldn't do. She wanted to hear his confession of love, she wanted it to have meaning, she wanted him to make love and not have sex!

But the words, though they would ring true, could not leave his lips. He slept around, he made girls weak at the knees with his trademark smirk, but they were purebloods from respectable families. One day, Draco would marry and couldn't see himself being unfaithful, so now was the time to get some action in before it was too late, right?

Draco tired himself out with the stress and decided to rest for awhile. But instead, he fell into a deep sleep. In it, Hermione was dressed in a beautiful, white gown that made his heart swell at the sight. It also made him want to undress her slowly, methodically and ravage her delicate body the moment the last piece of cloth fell from her.

It was making him hot and bothered, and he woke up with an erection. Draco sighed, and then started relieving himself. He rubbed his dick gently, easing the pressure as he thought of Hermione. Merlin she made him hard! His hand moved faster with every caress and finally, when he became full, his orgasm peaked and he came.

He didn't bother cleaning himself up right away, and just revelled in the fact that even in her absence, Hermione Granger held so much power over him. If it wasn't so damned satisfying, he'd seriously consider stealing a wand and casting the Avada Kedavra spell on himself.

X X X

Hermione went home and finished up the paperwork she had had to promise to do to get the next few days off, and then sent them off several hours later. Her owl was called Petta, after a second cousin that Hermione had known when she was a child. Long before she'd found out she was a witch. She sighed wistfully. It had been a long time coming, buying an owl for herself. The days when she could just borrow one from Hogwarts to send her messages were over, after all.

Hermione had taught Ginny how to use a telephone a long time ago and considering her red head friend's intention on marrying Harry, she'd soaked up everything she would need to know. She said that Harry had told her not to bother, that he was a Wizard not a Muggle. But Hermione realised that Arthur Weasley had passed his intrigue in all things Muggle to at least one of his children. She would never have guessed that it would be Ginny, but Hermione took part blame for it. She'd told Ginny enough things to overshadow anything Mister Weasley. After all, as one of her closest friends, Ginny had been interested in Hermione's life before Hogwarts.

So this was why Hermione was not surprised to get a call from Ginny just after the sun started to set. There was no electricity at the Burrow, so she definitely magicked the phone. She chuckled at this thought. It was amusing.

"Hello Ginny," Hermione responded to her friend's concerned voice.

"Are you okay Hermione? Harry just came round a few minutes ago and told me you went home sick."

"It's been one of those days."

"I'm coming around. You need to tell me all about it and these Muggle phones are too impersonal."

So ten minutes later, Ginny arrived via the Floo network and had already decided to spend the night. The only Weasley daughter was surprised to hear about Hermione's "encounter" with Draco Malfoy, and was even more surprised that he was the one who had initiated it. Weren't the Malfoys all about that ridiculous pureblood propaganda? And what was with him dropping this on Hermione so suddenly, and in her office?

Ginny was pissed off at him! And then Hermione told her about her sex dream and Ginny couldn't stop the grin from forming on her face. It was so obvious right now, why Hermione had let him get so far along in her office. Part of her was disappointed she was hearing about amazing sex instead of her frustrated libido. But she kept that to herself. Ginny had slept with Harry for the first time back when he'd first moved into his apartment. Call it her house warming present. She giggled at that. And she wanted Hermione to find that kind of happiness too.

They ate dinner quietly, and then they sat on the floor in the living room in their pyjamas, (Ginny wore silk while Hermione preferred satin) with tubs of ice cream, trading concerns. Hermione was worried Draco was just after sex, and would leave her feeling dirty, empty, and unloved; while Ginny was worried that she would never get out of the Burrow and into Godric Hollow with Harry. Her mother was driving her mad.

"How long until Harry can get the building permit?" Hermione asked, thinking that title sounded rather more Muggle than magical.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "It might be months." She sighed. "Maybe I should get an apartment too. I'm getting enough to do that."

"Right," Hermione smiled sadly. "You're working with George in the joke shop now."

Ginny smiled. "I like it, its fun. And after Fred well, it was only fitting another Weasley stepped in. George refused to let Ron help," she rolled her eyes, "because we all know how he is about the shop. And of course, everyone else was busy. I'm just glad I can help out."

"Because some of those inventions could use a little less bang and more chic," Hermione said and they both burst out laughing.

Once they'd calmed down, Ginny queried her on Malfoy. "Do you like him, that way?"

Hermione looked down into her half eaten ice cream. "I think so, and that's what's bugging me."

"How so?"

"I think it's one-sided."

Still holding onto her ice cream, Ginny hugged her tightly. "He'll come 'round. And if he doesn't, I'm very good with curses, just remember that."

Hermione chuckled. "Okay, I'll take that into consideration."

Ginny silently promised herself something. If Draco Malfoy used and abandoned Hermione, she would hunt him down and curse him, real bad.

X X X

A/N: It took me longer than necessary to write this, and I'm still not completely satisfied. Hope you like it anyway. :)