3

Another day brought with it another Ministry function he couldn't avoid. It was exactly the kind of thing his childhood had prepared him for and he despised it. Draco seethed at the notion of having to flatter old men; mingling, schmoozing and wasting away a perfectly good evening. He had made it a habit to send someone in place of himself for these kinds of things, but tonight's festivities were rather important.

They were collecting donations to fund a project; one of Granger's crusades, if he wasn't mistaken. The Muggleborn Integration Act, to be more specific. It had been approved and set to be implemented in record time. Draco should've known better than to doubt Hermione Granger.

The Werewolf Legislation Amendment had gone through merely weeks after the Remembrance Day Gala. And it had quickly been followed by The Veela Protection Act and the addition of House Elves to the Magical Creatures Agenda. In her spare time, between all of that, she'd even had a hand in revamping the regulations governing the potion ingredient trade. Needless to say, one wouldn't catch Draco betting against her; he'd simply known her for far too long. Hermione Granger would get what she wanted; she always did.

His list of accomplishments was paltry in comparison but it included a lateral move within the Ministry to work directly with her in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Admittedly, not nearly as impressive. But Draco with all said and done, quite liked his job.

And it had nothing to do with his coworkers, nothing at all.

Granger was in her element, talking animatedly to anyone and everyone. This project, in particular, was especially close to her heart. She'd told him herself in one of the many conversations they had. Conversations, as in multiple times they interacted⸺amicably.

Draco would be lying if he said he wasn't just the tiniest bit enchanted by this witch. Every moment he spent learning new things about her made him regret every cruel taunt he had hurled at her in their youth. How could he have ever thought that she was beneath him? How could he ever think that she was less deserving?

He stood nodding along, trying to follow the story of the client in front of him, but his mind was entirely preoccupied with more important matters⸺like the fetching emerald dress Granger was wearing. A shade of Slytherin green that, by coincidence, matched his bowtie. That fact made him happier than it rationally should have.

The dress itself was something he would never expect out of her, a risque fit. The satin off the shoulder number certainly suited her. Granger usually took care to wear long sleeves during work and Draco noticed this because he took care to do the same, but tonight was one of the rare occasions where she had opted for glamours instead. He had told her before that she needn't bother; her scars were a symbol of strength, unlike his which were a reminder of his cowardice. He wondered how many more she might have; if maybe one day she would ever show them to him.

Having to make small talk with possible investors was so tedious, Draco almost regretted not bringing a date. Maybe he ought to have cashed in that favour from Pansy, but it would be more hassle than it was worth. Another part he would have to play; an unwanted mask he'd be forced to adorn. So, Draco sighed and feigned undivided interest; pretending not to watch Granger as she made her own rounds throughout the room.

When at last he managed to find a moment of peace, hovering in the secluded corner, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He swivelled around, hand dropping to the pocket of his robes that held his wand.

It was only Granger.

He flexed his hand, dropping it to his side. All these years later, Draco still couldn't outrun his past. The emotions that flickered across her face implied that perhaps he wasn't the only one reeling from its effects.

"Can I help you?" he drawled, noticing the way she fidgeted with her bracelet.

"Well Malfoy," she bit her lower lip, shifting her weight, "that man over there," she cocked her head to the side, gesturing toward a leering man staring in their direction, "is rather pushy and I just- I didn't know who else to…." she let the sentence trail off, eyes dropping to the floor.

Granger didn't need to explain more. His upper lip curled in disgust. These sort of animals were a disgrace to his entire gender, thinking that they were owed a pretty woman's time and notice. Slimy and vile creatures, pathetic excuses for men.

"No need to elaborate Granger," Draco grabbed her wrist, leading her to the dance floor as far away from the git as he could, "I understand loud and clear."

Her relief was evident, "I don't know where Ron is and Harry isn't attending and I just," she took a deep breath, "thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgement as he pulled her into position, stumbling into the ongoing waltz. Draco scanned the area, making sure that the creep was nowhere in sight. He made a mental note to find that man later and have a little...chat. He cleared his throat, "funny how you always find yourself in my arms at these things," he said, to break the silence.

"Unfortunate circumstances, I assure you," she teased.

The music sped up and Draco arched a brow, "think you can keep up?"

"Try me, Malfoy," she said with a roguish grin, confident in her dancing skills.

Draco chuckled, "you asked for it." He led her through a series of complicated steps, tight twirls and sharp twists. Granger manoeuvred through each one with elegance, moving with him as if she was reading his mind. Perfect sync, a perfect match.

"Granger, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this was just an excuse to get back in my arms."

"In your dreams!" she rolls her eyes, playfully.

As the last notes of the music echo through the room, Draco tried to catch her off guard one last time, pulling her close and tightening his grip on her waist to tilt her backwards into a dip. He thought this would be the one thing that would finally make her falter, but she gave into him⸺trusted him. Granger went limp, balancing her weight on a single precarious heel as her arms trailed up his shoulders and around his neck.

They both froze at their unintentional intimate proximity, chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. His face burned and he quickly set her back on her feet, stepping away. She tilted her head, almost as if waiting for something. He desperately tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts, finding just enough clarity to give her a haphazard bow.

She laughed, shaking her head slightly and he noted her cheeks were also stained with a lovely red. With a large smile, she started to walk away and Draco scrambled, not wanting her to leave just yet. She was probably on her way to find Weasley⸺and that idea didn't sit well with him at all.

"Granger?" He wondered if she noticed the slight waver in his inflexion. She stopped, looking over her shoulder with a curious expression. "Green is your colour."

It was silent for a moment and Draco almost regretted saying anything at all. But then she tilted her head, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Thank you," she said and Draco's heart skipped a beat as he watched her sashayed away.