The Bagman's Gambit By: rock-the-casbah18

Disclaimer: Was it mine last time? No. Is it this time? Negative.

A/N: So sorry, that I forgot to give credit to the lovely creators of this song, The Decemberists. Anyhow, this story is really exciting me, and inspiring me, so I'm already posting again. Thanks to my lone reviewer, well, as of the last time I checked! Hope you all enjoy this dreadfully angsty, romancy story as much as I enjoy writing it!

and I recall that fall
I was working for the government
and in a bathroom stall off the National Mall
how we kissed so sweetly
how could I refuse a favor or two
for a tryst in the greenery
I gave you documents and microfilm, too

To say the least, you didn't go back to Azkaban. You weaseled your way out, Draco Malfoy, like you do with everything, by promising the lone Wizengamot judge that you would help with his election for Minister of Magic. I don't exactly know how it had happened, as I was asked to please leave the room while you two went over private matters. All I know was, one moment, I was flushed, screaming that you couldn't go back to that dirty hovel of a place, because Rufus had it coming, and the next, you were outside, beaming at me, saying the judge had let you off with only community service as a punishment.

I didn't believe it, not knowing how you, of all people, could be as lucky as to slip under the radar, get away from the Dementor's kiss. But you sat me down, and told me what had happened.

"Hermione," you said slowly, dragging out my name, as if you wanted it to last forever. "Judge Mason decided that I wouldn't face the death penalty. I have to help him, though. To win the election. You know he's running for Minister of Magic? Really…"

Your words were lost on me, because, for a moment, I was blinded by rage. Every single time, every fucking time, you got out of whatever you were in by cheating and making accords with those who you could do without. Even if you didn't know it, I did. I knew you made a mistake, knew it so well, that I felt as though I should slap it into you, beat and pummel it into you.

"What do you mean help," I hissed out after a few moments. You were mid-sentence, and your deep, grey eyes went wide with my intrusion.

"Well, Hermione," you started out, that familiar honey-tone seeping into your voice. "I just have to use whatever resources I have to assist Mr. Mason in his election. An advisor, if you will. I promise to you, it's nothing illegal. Promise." Your lips looked simply delicious when you pronounced the word 'promise', forming an 'o' and then spreading wide, leading to a soft smile. Maybe if I wasn't so lovesick at the time, thinking of you night an day, touching myself, wishing it was you, lying to myself, saying that you felt the same way too, I would've not believed even one of those words. Unfortunately, I fell into your trap, slowly, yet happily, willing to believe any little lie you set on me.

"Okay, Draco," I stuttered out, reassuring myself that you were being honest with me, and that maybe, by agreeing, you would love me back.

You grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me close, hugging me tightly, saying "Thanks, Hermione. I couldn't have asked for a better, more understanding friend." Foul play, Mr. Malfoy, foul play, I thought. Friend? After that little performance in your cell yesterday? Oh, you were killing any chance you ever had. Until, while still in a hugging position, I felt your tongue flicker across the pulse in my neck, made open for you from my tilted head.

"Friends with benefits, more like," you whispered in my ear, huskily, making my melt and coo like a swotty seventeen-year-old again. I liked you way too much for my own good, and I wouldn't realize that for so long.

The leaves faded from fresh green to rough reds, and burnt browns, and I found myself behind a desk, working as a part-time Wizarding attorney, part-time Cursebreaker. I needed the extra pay to get by, and I had already slacked off in my rent payments. Not to be horrid, but it was your entire fault. I hadn't heard from you in months, and the only time I saw you was in newspaper pictures about the success of Mason in the election for Minister. I felt depressed; I missed you, missed the physical part of our relationship, missed the release I gained when I was with you. You had all of a sudden decided to ignore me, and it was killing me from the inside out.

I put in long hours at work, dreading going home to any empty apartment. My co-workers looked at me strangely, making comments behind my back about my unsocial nature, saying that I had no life and that I was plain pitiful. I ignored them, taking a leaf from your book, putting on my suit of steel, letting nothing get through to me. I still missed you though, and wanted to feel your lean muscle pressed against my womanly curves once again. Work was draining every last drop of emotion from me, and I was kind of wishing that you would come back and spark that warm feeling inside of me.

So imagine my surprise, when, out of the blue, I found myself being pulled into an 'Out of Order' men's restroom, on the first floor of the ministry, on my way home. I was attempting escape, which was pretty futile, when my 'attacker' had my arms pinned behind my back, one hand clasping my wrists together, the other hand covering my mouth, preventing me from screaming. If my attacker hadn't smelled like your cologne, I would've been much more worried than I was.

"Draco," I all but moaned, as you pushed me up against the tiled bathroom wall, attacking my neck with your lips, my body with your hands. As you kissed the crook of my neck, your hand skimmed under my shirt, farther up, to slip under my lace bra, nimbly pinching my hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, twisting lightly, just enough to send shockwaves of pleasure to my core.

"Draco, stop," I said, trying desperately to maintain control over my wavering voice. Your head shot up from where it was laying siege on my neck, and your eyes melded with mine.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I just… I was really happy, seeing you again." You said it like you meant it, and I knew you meant it, or I thought I did. The look in your eyes, it was of pure adoration, a look that I had craved from you for so very long.

"Why haven't you visited? I missed you, you know." I was tempted to let your long pale fingers explore just a bit more, but I felt as if I was being wronged. You weren't there for so long, and then you suddenly were, and expected me to just accept that. Well, newsflash- that wasn't gonna happen.

"I know, love, I know. I've just been so busy," you said, wetting your bottom lip quickly with your tongue. You did that when you were nervous; it was something I always considered unbelievably adorable.

"Busy with what? The Election?" I knew the answer before you even said anything. You were too busy keeping yourself from being locked behind bars to even visit me. "No, Draco," I began, "If you can't bother to stop in and see me, then don't bother trying anything with me now." Honestly, I was about to walk away. Just storm away from you, banishing my feelings, and hoping that I never had to see your aristocratic features again.

"Hermione, wait," you called out, and I stopped, just this once. Your voice had a peculiar tinge to it- fear laced with need.

"What, Draco, what?" I was tired. Tired of you, tired of me, tired of this. "What do you want from me? What?"

"I need you to do me a favor. A huge favor. But I really need you to do this for me, or I'm sure as hell going back to Azkaban."

Maybe, if you hadn't kissed me so ardently, so tenderly, I wouldn't have had the problem that I did with my warring emotions. Was I supposed to just give you whatever it was you needed, do whatever it was, when you had ignored, forgotten me for so long? Was I supposed to save you from Azkaban? What was I supposed to do? At the time, I loved you though, and those feelings that I had for you pretty much made up my mind.

"What do you need from me, Draco," I whispered in a barely audible voice, glaring at the floor, angry that I was doing this, but unable to stop because of my bursting heart.

"I need the keys to the Aurors' headquarters."

I spluttered. You needed what? Oh no, you filthy ferret, oh no. I was not risking my job for you, my reputation, just so you could have some silly keys. Surely, you didn't need them for the election?

"Please, Hermione. I promise to pay you back, I promise." You said this, and I was reminded of the last time you made promises. You had said that you wouldn't do anything illegal, and, oh my, this was illegal by far.

"Illegal, Draco," I began, but you cut me off.

"Baby, please."

Why did you do this to me, Draco? Why? Made me feel so many things at once, so many things so that I just wanted to explode, or die, or jump you. You used that one little term of endearment, and I was melted. Putty, Mr. Malfoy, I was completely putty, and it was just for you.

"I'll meet you tomorrow, in the courtyard, at midnight. No one will be here." I was whispering again. Whispering was so sneaky. Why did I feel so guilty? This was horrible.

"Thank you so much, Hermione. I promise, you won't regret this. Ever." You're cold eyes smiled, and your grin seemed warm. Pushing past me, you flew from the bathroom, stalking steadily along in the way that you always did. I was left, leaning up against that same bathroom wall, tears in my eyes, wondering when you had begun to have complete and utter control over me.

It was dark out. Too dark. Not just dark, either. Hazy clouds viciously shoved their way in front of gleaming stars, casting an eerie gray glow over the courtyard. The ministry building was completely empty; not a soul would dare work late on a Friday evening, except me, little unsocial Hermione Granger. So I found myself, standing near an off-white cement bench in the courtyard, glancing around nervously, wondering if you had decided not to show up. It wouldn't be the first time.

You snuck up on me, completely unawares, making me jump and inhale sharply when you gripped me around the waist, spinning me around to face you. You were positively beaming as you plucked the keys from my limp fingers, pocketing them quickly, as if to rid us both of the evidence of a crime. At that moment, I could've sworn you loved me. You looked at me, and it was love, and happiness, and fear, and despair all wrapped up in one. And then it was lust, and that was the only emotion in your mysterious, gray eyes.

"I want you right here, right now, Granger," you said roughly, reverting back to your old name for me. It made me tingle in places that I most certainly did not want to be tingling.

"Draco, we're outside, in the middle of a courtyard. Wouldn't you rather go back to my place," I said warily, although the same lust that you harbored was seeping into my emotions, drowning out the joy, the sadness.

"God, Hermione, no. I need you right now." You gripped my hand and brushed my fingertips lightly against your trousers, skimming over your burgeoning erection. I wasn't sure who it was that moaned- could've been me, could've been you. I know it was me, though, who moaned when you attacked my mouth with your own, running your tongue along the crease of my lips, pushing, forcing entry into my mouth. One of my hands was in your silky, blond hair, gripping and pulling you closer to me, while the other remained on your erection, cupping and squeezing it lightly. Oh, I had missed this. Missed this too much for my own good. And, well, this was going too fast, too soon and in the entirely wrong place. But I knew that within moments, I would be on my back, on the damp grass, clinging onto your shoulders, my legs around your waist, as I demanded that you pound into me harder.

My prediction came true. And you got folders stuffed with private information and microfilm for blackmailing out of our heated sex, while I got absolutely nothing.

A/N: I know, upsetting wasn't it? Not the story, you silly gooses- the absence of an explicit scene! I purposely am saving that one for the next chapter, or very soon in the future, to make it go along with a lyric. Hope you enjoyed and… well, you wouldn't deny me a review, would you?