A/N: Written for the Winter is Dead Fluff Fest a Birthday Collection for Persephone_Stone!
No beta, only Grammarly.
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Summary: Hermione ill-advisedly threatens Kingsley, and Draco, as part of the Minister for Magic's protection detail, has to protect him.
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Rating: M
Warnings: Mild Sexual Content
The Protection Detail
"And another thing," Hermione said, her finger pointed right up into Kingsley's enraged face. "Your dismissal of creatures' rights is a fucking joke. I thought the goal of this bleeding Ministry was to make people's lives better, Minister Shacklebolt. All you do is make them worst! You're the worst!" she shouted at him nonsensically.
"Miss Granger," Kingsley intoned, the fury in his voice barely restrained, "barging into my office to shout at me—"
"I wouldn't have to if you'd come to any of the meetings I'd invited you to! The werewolves deserve better than this, Kingsley and so help me—" she was cut off with an oof as someone grabbed her around the middle and started hauling her away.
"Hey! Put me down," she shouted, pushing at the arms that were circling her waist.
"I don't think so," Malfoy grunted in her ear when she connected her foot with his shin. "I'm Minister Shacklebolt's protection detail and you were getting a touch too rowdy in there." He hauled her backward until they were in the outer office. She didn't miss the satisfied smirk on Kingsley's face as the door slammed shut between them.
"Get off of me," she said in a quiet growl. Malfoy did not let go, however, instead, he spun her around to face him. He looked her over and then his gaze narrowed.
"Granger, are you drunk?" he asked, half astonished.
"Shut up, Malfoy. I'm not drunk," Hermione spat, though it was a real effort not to slur her words. And maybe she wasn't strictly drunk, but she had definitely had more than one drink. Was it the whisky that had made her think confronting Kingsley in his office was a good idea?
"Shit, you're bloody blathered," Malfoy muttered. "Come on." He slung his arm around her shoulders and began leading her out of the Minister's office entirely and down the corridor.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, very proud that she had managed those first three words without slurring them together completely.
"My office," Malfoy muttered. "I've got some Sober-Up Potion in there and then you can tell me why you were considering assaulting the Minister."
"I wasn't going to assault him," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"You were, my alarm went off telling me so," Malfoy replied. He steered her into a small, cramped, interior office and settled her on the small settee within. Despite the cramped conditions, the leather of the settee was buttery smooth beneath her fingers and Hermione had the urge to curl up on it and take a nap.
"Here," Malfoy said, thrusting a potions vial at her.
She took it, eyeing him suspiciously, and gave it a sniff. It certainly smelled like Sober-Up Potion, and it wasn't like Malfoy was going to murder her. So she knocked it back in one go. She coughed up steam that tasted of coffee and then her head began to clear, while simultaneously beginning to pound with the telltale headache of a hangover. Sober-Up Potion did clear the alcohol out of the human body, but it didn't prevent a hangover.
"Merlin," she groaned, dropping her head to her hands. "I'm going to be fired, aren't I?"
Malfoy snorted. "Probably not. Kingsley, despite that impressive row, loves you for some reason," he said.
A hand appeared before her face, this one holding a vial of what appeared to be a general healing potion.
"You may not be the worst person in the world," Hermione said, grabbing at the bottle and greedily chugging it down. Her headache began to recede and she closed her eyes, leaning further back into the settee. "This is an amazingly comfortable sofa," she added.
"I thought Kingsley was the worst," Malfoy said with a small smirk as he leaned his hip against his desk. He'd taken off his Auror robe and was only in a button-up shirt and slacks.
"Too right," Hermione replied, eyeing the way his forearms flexed as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, "Kingsley is the worst of the worst."
"He's a politician, Granger," Malfoy replied. "It's his job to appease all sides."
"I bloody know that," Hermione snapped. "Doesn't mean I like it. He should be less focused on getting re-elected and more focused on helping people. I'll stand by that any day of the week."
He had both shirtsleeves rolled up now and his arms were crossed over his chest.
Hermione had always been a forearm witch. Forearms, wrists, and hands were incredibly sexy and Malfoy's... she sighed. She wondered what his arms would feel like if they were wrapped around her for a reason other than dragging her out of Kingsley's office before she assaulted him.
"My eyes are up here," Malfoy drawled. She slowly slid her eyes up his chest, which was looking rather firm beneath his oxford and up to his face. He was smirking at her with one raised eyebrow. "Like what you see?"
She pursed her lips and gave an unaffected shrug. "Maybe I'm just still drunk."
"Oh, really? Need another dose of Sober-Up?" Malfoy asked, still offering her that smirk. She used to hate that smirk, the way one side of his mouth curled up and his eyes narrowed. But, Godric, that smirk didn't look so bad right now. Right now, it actually looked rather sexy.
Her eyes widened at that thought. Did she? Was she? Was Malfoy sexy? The world seemed to wobble on its axis as she contemplated that thought, and she didn't think it had anything to do with the amount of alcohol she had consumed.
"I'm good on the Sober-Up," she said faintly. "Though, I do think I need to go home for the day."
"I'd say," Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it in a way that only added to his sex appeal. Merlin, she needed to get laid if she was finding Malfoy this good to look at. "It's barely past lunch. What on earth possessed you to get drunk at work?"
She sighed and leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at how fit Malfoy was. "Kingsley has been dodging me for months now. I'm sick of it," she replied quietly. "Not only that, it's not like I'm trying to meet with him for my own benefit. I am trying to affect werewolf regulation and he refuses to discuss it with me. Frankly, it's getting a little ridiculous. So I decided to confront him. But by then, I'd built it up in my mind so much that I couldn't quite make myself do it.
"So I had a tipple to give me a bit of liquid courage," she sighed and rubbed a finger between her eyes.
"A tipple? Granger, you smelled as if you'd bathed in Firewhisky," Malfoy said. The sofa dipped next to her and she snapped her eyes open to see him sitting on the other side. She sat up a little straighter, though he was slouched into the corner with his arm slung across the back.
"One tipple may have turned into three... or four?" she shrugged. "Doesn't matter, even if I'm not fired, I'll surely be reprimanded and Kingsley's still unlikely to bother attending a single one of my meetings."
"Kingsley is not the only way to go about getting your legislation passed," Malfoy reminded her. "Why haven't you gone the route of the Wizengamot?"
Hermione laughed. "I'm sorry, did you just suggest the Wizengamot?"
"Why is that funny?" Malfoy asked, a furrow between his brows. "Isn't the Wizengamot how most laws are passed?"
"Sure, if you have centuries of pure-blood on your side and a few of the various factions of Wizengamot members. I have none of those things. Even the members I'm friendly with, only make up about twenty percent of the body. I would have to spend all my time campaigning old fuddy-duddies who don't think I belong in the Ministry, either because I'm a witch, because I'm Muggle-born, or both. And even then, most wouldn't listen to me anyway. Not when it comes to werewolf rights. It's a lost cause trying to bring a law to the floor of the Wizengamot without the Minister's backing," she explained.
Malfoy frowned. "That does seem difficult, which factions are you friendly with?"
Hermione pursed her lips as she considered him. Was he going to help her? "The Longbottom faction is my closest ally," Hermione said. "Augusta and I have a monthly tea. They lead the Abbotts and the Boneses, as you know. But I'm also close to the McLaggen faction, though not as neatly tied to them as I am to the Longbottom's. I could probably get the McLaggens on my side if I went on another date with Cormac," she mused.
"Wait, you're trading dates for Wizengamot favors? Is that ethical?" Malfoy asked. He looked upset, angry even.
"Strictly speaking? No, of course, it's not. However, if it gets the McLaggens to vote the way I need them to, I'm not above it. Though, as I said, with the Longbottom and McLaggen factions, I'm still only at twenty percent. I need at least fifty-one percent to pass a law.
"What if I helped with a few of the factions?" Malfoy offered. "Several of my friends have taken up their family seats."
"Why would you?" Hermione asked, frankly. "What's in it for you?"
"Uh, you stop assaulting the Minister and making me fill out reams of paperwork about it," Malfoy said with a shrug. "Also, maybe I agree with you in regards to werewolf rights."
"Really? You do?" Hermione asked. "Which part of my platform do you like the best?"
"Er, well, the bit about..." he trailed off and looked sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Hermione frowned at him. "So you were going to help, despite not even knowing what was in the law?" She shook her head. "How did you plan to go about convincing anyone to vote for it if you couldn't even speak about it? And if you don't know what's in the law, how can you actually agree with it?"
"Look, if it keeps you out of Kingsley's office, I can probably convince him to not fire you," he said quietly.
"Wait, wait, wait, I thought I was in no danger of being fired? Because Kingsley loves me so much. Just what in the world is going on here?" Hermione asked, completely bewildered by the turn of this conversation.
Malfoy sighed and dropped his head. "I was going to argue on your behalf if I needed to, and judging by the look on his face as I dragged you out..." he shrugged. "It was looking like I was going to have to do a lot of talking."
"Why would you put yourself on the line like that for me?" Hermione asked. "I've done nothing of the kind for you and..." she closed her eyes. "Look, it's really sweet of you to help like this, but if Kingsley is going to fire me for this stunt, I'd rather just be fired."
"How would you help the werewolves if you can't affect legislation?" Malfoy asked.
She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back into the sofa. Malfoy's weight made her body want to slide towards him, but she stopped herself from doing so. "I don't bloody know. Start a foundation or something? It will be harder from outside of the Ministry, I'll give you that. But…" she bit her lip and turned her head, looking at Malfoy. "I don't need you to put your job on the line for me."
Malfoy's smirk was back, though she thought perhaps it deepened slightly into a grin. "Of the two of us, I think you need your job more than I need mine," he told her. "If anyone should be starting foundations, perhaps it should be me?"
Hermione's brows drew together. "Why are we having this conversation? You're clearly not interested in werewolf rights. What's in it for you?"
"Heard you were giving away dates for Wizengamot support," Malfoy replied his tone light and teasing.
"Oh? Is that what this is all about?" Hermione asked. "Well, you should have just asked. I would go on a date with you without having to strongarm you to get a faction of the Wizengamot to support my legislation."
"Is that so?" Malfoy asked, leaning closer to her. Up close, his eyes were more than just grey, there were bits of blue in there as well.
"Are you going to kiss me?" Hermione whispered when his mouth was hovering just inches above hers.
"Only if you want me to, Granger," he replied, leaning back slightly. Hermione followed him and pressed her lips to his. A spark traveled through her at the contact and Malfoy inhaled sharply before sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She couldn't help herself and placed a hand on that hard chest she had been admiring earlier, feeling the solidity of it beneath her hand made her moan, which Malfoy swallowed.
They both pulled back after a long moment, breathing heavily.
"I should not be doing that at work," Malfoy muttered, adjusting his trousers.
Hermione let a wild giggle loose, before covering her mouth with her hand. "Is that all I needed to do to get your Wizengamot factions on board?" she asked, teasingly.
"I was willing to get them on board before that," Malfoy replied. His voice was husky and she shivered at the sound. "Give me a copy of the legislation, and I'll get them on board."
"Because you want to keep kissing me?" Hermione asked.
"Because I believe in what you're doing, even if I don't know the specifics," he replied seriously. "And if Kingsley fires you, then we'll set you up with a foundation."
She blinked at him. "Why?"
He cupped her face, leaning close and placing a chaste kiss against her lips. "Because you're the future of our world. Always have been."
Hermione walked out of Malfoy's office moments later stunned by everything that had happened in the last hour but somehow feeling inordinately lighter about everything in her life. The fact that Malfoy had plans to pick her up at seven that night for dinner probably had as much to do with her mood as did the promise of getting her werewolf legislation passed did.
~Fin~
