Hrm. As another few notes, this story will include slash, swearing, and really ridiculous plotlines. I have no idea what I am doing. Oh, Hello, I am a coconut.

Also, story is blatantly AU. As in, no Voldemort. Duh.

xxx

CHAPTER TWO

"It's been years and you're still such a pig," Hermione sniffed.

Draco shrugged. "It's a habit. But still. That's a really great ass."

Hermione glowered, then lead the way in. "This is the room where we will proceed with the interview."

"Just an interview?"

"Just stop talking unless I ask you a direct question."

"Whatever makes you happy, Granger," Draco said, rolling his eyes as he went and sat on the leather couch. If one were to look out the window several stories down, one would see the hundreds of fans clustered on the pavement screaming for Draco.

Draco was very… smiling. That was something Hermione could give him. Fame had mellowed him out incredibly. Or maybe he had always had a crush on her but was too afraid of his father's disapproval to let on.

Er… Probably the former, aha.

Hermione sat on the armchair across from him with her notebook and pen so that she could write down his physical reactions. She set a tape recorder on the coffee table between them and pressed the record button. Then she chewed on the tip of her pen for a moment before saying, "So, Draco, how's the tour coming?"

Draco gave her the thumbs up, the perfect picture of a quirky celebrity. "Great. Really great. Better than expected, actually."

Hermione looked politely interested "How so?"

And they continued on for a half-hour more. Draco was very polite, and rather humorous. Hermione found herself amused despite herself.

After Draco answered the last question and Hermione stopped recording, Draco looked at her and said, "So… want to go out?"

Hermione stared.

Draco rolled his eyes after about a minute. "Granger, I'm talking to you."

"Obviously, since I'm the only other person in the room," Hermione snapped, flustered.

"So, do you want to go out?"

"Er."

Draco said, "We could catch up."

"There's nothing to catch up on, Draco," Hermione pointed out dryly.

"Oh, but there is," Draco replied, with a bit of a smirk. "I'd like to know how someone as anal as you got to be so successful. Besides… we could talk more. I'm sure an intensive article on me would be the key for you to jump ahead in your career."
Hermione chewed pensively on her bottom lip. "What's in it for you?"

Draco smiled charmingly. "Dinner with a pretty girl," he said.

"You are such a prat," Hermione said, with a sigh. She couldn't resist a free meal with a rock star. "But alright."

xxx

"Auuuugh, stupid stupid stupid," Hermione moaned, slamming her forehead against her computer screen.

She picked up her phone and dialled, waiting tensely and hoping Ginny would pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ginny!" Hermione all but wailed. Then she lowered her voice so that everyone else in the office would stop staring at her. "Ginny, I just did something really stupid!"

"Like what?" Ginny asked, intrigued. She had just left the tanning salon and was feeling like her day just kept getting better and better. "Does it involve pineapples?"

"Draco Malfoy asked me out and I said yes," Hermione agonised.

"Nice!" Ginny cried, impressed. "Maybe you'll even get to sleep with him! Oh, and then you could have his illegitimate baby and it'll make the headlines and then Lucius will have you and your child murdered in a bloodless coup to erase the taint upon the family tree!"

"Ginny, this is serious!"

"Okay, okay," Ginny soothed. "I'll be at your place. Meet you when you get off work, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione muttered. "See you then."

"And don't freak out and jump out of a window before then, alright?"

"Fine."

xxx

"Holy shit," Draco said to his friend Blaise, sounding positively gleeful, "My father will have a fit!"

"Probably," Blaise agreed.

Blaise was a metrosexual with nice nails and a trendy apartment. He was one of Draco's best friends, and also happened to be living near Draco own beachfront residence, which explained Draco's presence. There was no way he was going to try to visit a place on the other side of town lest he risk alerting his fans to his movements.

"I couldn't help myself," Draco said, with a bit of a sigh, "She was attractive and un-Granger-like."

"And she's a muggleborn," Blaise pointed out.

"Exactly," Draco grinned.

"But it's not like you're marrying her," Blaise said, making himself a Bloody Mary at the bar. "You'd have to draw attention to the fact you're dating her in order to piss Lucius off properly."

"True," Draco admitted, sinking into one of Blaise's white couches. Blaise went to stand at the floor-to-ceiling window to admire the view as he drank.

"How is your father, anyway?" Blaise inquired.

Draco shrugged. "The usual."

"Acting like he has three voices in his head?"

"Yeah."

xxx

Tonks realised with a shock that she was late for work. She clambered out of bed, hitting the floor with a painful thud, and knocking the glass of water on her bed stand to the carpet.

"Ow." She muttered, and laid there for a moment. Then she checked her watch, remembered the time, and half ran, half stumbled, into the bathroom, tearing her nightclothes off as she did so.

I never should have taken a night shift, she thought sourly to herself. It was seven fifteen already - she had to be there by seven thirty. "Fuck fuckity fuck," she snarled, after brushing her teeth and washing her face. She began to apply mascara with her mouth hanging open. All women did it. She wondered briefly if men did it, too. She'd have to ask around.

Her hair was a snarled, tangled mess, so instead of brushing it she went into her kitchen, got out a pair of scissors, and began to hack it off. That was one of the perks of being a Metamorphmagi - you could have the most horrid haircut in the world but grow out a better one in a few seconds, if you concentrated right.

The phone began to ring.

"Shit," she swore, and located it, after ten second of fruitless searching, beneath the cushions on the couch. She answered it, hoping it wasn't her boss.

It wasn't.

"Tonks," Draco said on the other end.

"Oh, God," Tonks said, "Can't this wait? Really, Draco, I love you loads but I'm late for work."

"Christ, you're a bitch," Draco said. "Right, I'll call you when?"

"Try tomorrow morning."

"Tonks!"

"What? I need to work on a project tonight with a bunch of other aurors. Top secret, you know."

"Does it involve cocaine?"

"Damn, you're good! Talk to you later." She hung up.

Luckily, she remembered, right before jumping into the fireplace and flooing to the Ministry of Magic minutes later, that she had no clothes on.