A/N: Written for the Harmony Spite Fest! This is a name change fic, and delightfully close to crack. I kind of love it. Hopefully, you also enjoy it!

(Except you Robert, move along now, not for you sir. You wouldn't like it anyway).

No beta, just Grammarly. All other mistakes are mine.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

Rating: M

Summary: Harry ill-advisedly threatens Kingsley, and Hermione, as part of the Minister for Magic's protection detail, has to protect him.

The Protection Detail: Take 2

"And another thing," Harry said, his 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!" he shouted at him nonsensically.

"Mr Potter," 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—" he was cut off with an oof as someone grabbed him around the middle and started hauling him away.

"Hey! Put me down," he shouted, pushing at the arms that were circling his waist.

"I don't think so," Hermione grunted in his ear when he connected his foot with her shin. "I'm Minister Shacklebolt's protection detail and you were getting a touch too rowdy in there." She hauled him backwards until they were in the outer office. He didn't miss the satisfied smirk on Kingsley's face as the door slammed shut between them.

"Get off of me," he said in a quiet growl. Hermione did not let go, however, instead she spun him around to face her. She looked her over and then her gaze narrowed.

"Harry, are you drunk?" she asked, half astonished.

"Shut up, Hermione. I'm not drunk," Harry spat, though it was a real effort not to slur his words. And maybe he wasn't strictly drunk, but he had definitely had more than one drink. Was it the whisky that had made him think confronting Kingsley in his office was a good idea?

"Shit, you're bloody blathered," Hermione muttered. "Come on." She slung her arm around his shoulders and began leading him out of the Minister's office entirely and down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, very proud that he had managed those first three words without slurring them together completely.

"My office," Hermione 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," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"You were, my alarm went off telling me so," Hermione replied. She steered her into a small, cramped, interior office and settled him on the small settee within. Despite the cramped conditions, the leather of the settee was buttery smooth beneath his fingers and Harry had the urge to curl up on it and take a nap.

"Here," Hermione said, thrusting a potions vial at him.

He took it, eyeing her suspiciously and gave it a sniff. It certainly smelled like Sober-Up Potion, and it wasn't like Hermione was going to murder him. So he knocked it back in one go. He coughed up steam that tasted of coffee and then his 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," he groaned, dropping his head to his hands. "I'm going to be fired, aren't I?"

Hermione snorted. "Probably not. Kingsley, despite that impressive row, loves you for some reason," she said.

A hand appeared before his 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," Harry said, grabbing at the bottle and greedily chugging it down. His headache began to recede and he closed his eyes, leaning further back into the settee. "This is an amazingly comfortable sofa," he added.

"I thought Kingsley was the worst," Hermione said with a small smirk as she leaned her hip against her desk. She'd taken off her Auror robe and was only in a button-up shirt and slacks.

"Too right," Harry replied, eyeing the way her forearms flexed as she rolled up her shirt sleeves, "Kingsley is the worst of the worst."

"He's a politician, Harry," Hermione replied. "It's his job to appease all sides."

"I bloody know that," Harry 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."

She had both shirtsleeves rolled up now and her arms were crossed over her chest.

Harry had always been a forearm wizard. Forearms, wrists, and hands were incredibly sexy and Hermione's... he sighed. He wondered what her arms would feel like if they were wrapped around him for a reason other than dragging him out of Kingsley's office before he assaulted him.

"My eyes are up here," Hermione drawled. He slowly slid his eyes up her chest, which was looking rather lush beneath her oxford and up to her face. She was smirking at him with one raised eyebrow. "Like what you see?"

He pursed her lips and gave an unaffected shrug. "Maybe I'm just still drunk."

"Oh, really? Need another dose of Sober-Up?" Hermione asked, still offering him that smirk. He used to hate that smirk, the way one side of her mouth curled up and her eyes narrowed. But, Godric, that smirk didn't look so bad right now. Right now, it actually looked rather sexy.

His eyes widened at that thought. Did he? Was he? Was Hermione sexy? The world seemed to wobble on its axis as he contemplated that thought, and he didn't think it had anything to do with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

"I'm good on the Sober-Up," he said faintly. "Though, I do think I need to go home for the day."

"I'd say," Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair, tousling it in a way that only added to her sex appeal. Merlin, he needed to get laid if he was finding Hermione this good to look at. "It's barely past lunch. What on earth possessed you to get drunk at work?"

He sighed and leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at how fit Hermione was. "Kingsley has been dodging me for months now. I'm sick of it," he 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," he sighed and rubbed a finger between her eyes.

"A tipple? Harry, you smelled as if you'd bathed in Firewhisky," Hermione said. The sofa dipped next to him and he snapped his eyes open to see her sitting on the other side. He sat up a little straighter, though she was slouched into the corner with her arm slung across the back.

"One tipple may have turned into three... or four?" he 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," Hermione reminded him. "Why haven't you gone the Wizengamot route?"

Harry laughed. "I'm sorry, did you just suggest the Wizengamot?"

"Why is that funny?" Hermione asked, a furrow between her 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 Muggle raised, because I'm a halfblood 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," he explained.

Hermione frowned. "That does seem difficult, which factions are you friendly with?"

Harry pursed his lips as he considered her. Was she going to help him? "The Longbottom faction is my closest ally," Harry 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's sister," he mused.

"Wait, you're trading dates for Wizengamot favors? Is that ethical?" Hermione asked. She 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 too, 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?" Hermione offered. "Several of my friends have taken up their family seats."

"Why would you?" Harry asked, frankly. "What's in it for you?"

"Uh, you stop assaulting the Minister and making me fill out reams of paperwork about it," Hermione said with a shrug. "Also, maybe I agree with you in regards to werewolf rights."

"Really? You do?" Harry asked. "Which part of my platform do you like the best?"

"Er, well, the bit about..." she trailed off and looked sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck.

Harry frowned at her. "So you were going to help, despite not even knowing what was in the law?" He shook his 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," she 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?" Harry asked, completely bewildered by the turn of this conversation.

Hermione sighed and dropped her 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..." she 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?" Harry asked. "I've done nothing of the kind for you and..." he closed his 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?" Hermione asked.

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back into the sofa. Hermione's weight made his body want to slide towards her, but he stopped himself 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…" he bit his lip and turned his head, looking at Hermione. "I don't need you to put your job on the line for me."

Hermione's smirk was back, though he thought perhaps it deepened slightly into a grin. "Of the two of us, I think you need your job more than I need mine," she told him. "If anyone should be starting foundations, perhaps it should be me?"

Harry'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," Hermione replied, her tone light and teasing.

"Oh? Is that what this is all about?" Harry 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?" Hermioneasked, leaning closer to him. Up close, her eyes were more than just brown, there were bits of gold in there as well.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Harry whispered when her mouth was hovering just inches above his.

"Only if you want me to, Harry," she replied, leaning back slightly. Harry followed her and pressed his lips to hers. A spark traveled through him at the contact and Hermione inhaled sharply before sliding her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. He couldn't help himself and placed a hand on that soft chest he had been admiring earlier, feeling the lushness of it beneath his hand made him moan, which Hermione swallowed.

They both pulled back after a long moment, breathing heavily.

"I should not be doing that at work," Hermione muttered, adjusting her shirt.

Harry let a wild giggle loose, before covering his mouth with his hand. "Is that all I needed to do to get your Wizengamot factions on board?" he asked, teasingly.

"I was willing to get them on board before that," Hermione replied. Her voice was husky and he 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?" Harry asked.

"Because I believe in what you're doing, even if I don't know the specifics," she replied seriously. "And if Kingsley fires you, then we'll set you up with a foundation."

He blinked at her. "Why?"

She cupped his face, leaning close and placing a chaste kiss against his lips. "Because you're the future of our world. Always have been."

Harry walked out of Hermione's office moments later stunned by everything that had happened in the last hour, but somehow feeling inordinately lighter about everything in his life. The fact that Hermione had plans to pick him up at seven that night for dinner probably had as much to do with his mood as did the promise of getting his werewolf legislation passed did.

~Fin~