a/n: Hey all! This won't be a very long story, I initially wanted to make it a one shot, but I thought I would chop it up just a bit. If anything it will be AT LEAST 5 chapters long. I rambled a bit originally but I won't now. Can't wait to read your thoughts xo :)


"Alright, gather round!" George bellowed over the crowded room. "Ron, I've got that seat over there set up for you," he added as Ron walked passed him.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked Ginny.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders and turned to Harry beside her when he started to speak.

"George wants us to try this new game concept he's created for the shop," Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

"And he thought the best time to play this was at Ron's anniversary party?" Hermione questioned.

They were all gathered in Ron's living room on the night of his first anniversary. The previous year, he had married a lovely witch named Sarah Lockington in his parent's garden in over the top fashion that only Molly Weasley was capable of. Sarah was the perfect match for Ron, level headed, patient, and an incredible cook. The full blown celebration had ended a few hours before and a handful of them had hung back to have some drinks and socialize.

Harry shrugged. "I guess it's a couples game. And how often are we all together?"

Ginny took a sip of her drink and lifted her shoulders at Hermione. "Maybe it could be fun! Get in the spirit, Hermione."

"Harry, Ginny, take a seat right there. Perfect," George said directing couples to the proper seats. "Okay, Hermione, if you could sit right here."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Er, George, in case you forgot, I'm not part of a couple."

"Right," he said glancing around the room. "Malfoy." He pointed dramatically to the blond across the room. "You can fill in as Hermione's someone."

Hermione sputtered into her drink. "Escus- Malfoy?!"

Malfoy made his way across the room and stopped a few feet from the sofa she was sitting on. "Got a problem with that, Granger?"

Hermione hesitated. There wasn't anything necessarily wrong with Malfoy per se, he was just an incredibly obnoxious arrogant git. He had definitely grown up in the years since Hogwarts. He didn't dwell on anyone's purity or look down on anyone for having less than him, but he still could get under her skin in a way that only he could. Malfoy had started working with Harry and Ron about three years ago, and after a year or so of them starting over new, the three got along almost as well as she got on with the two boys herself. Since their friendship, the four of them spent time together here and there, and while it wasn't entirely dreadful, there were still moments that Hermione wanted to wring his neck. He just had a way of pushing every button she'd ever had.

"Ugh, nothing. Let's just get this over with," she grumbled. Malfoy grinned mockingly and sat beside her on the couch. She wiggled a little further from him so she was pressed against the arm of the sofa.

"Alright, now that we have our teams, I thought I should preface this game by saying it is still in development so there are bound to be some kinks, so bear with me." Everyone nodded in understanding. "Brilliant," George said as he clapped his hands together. "Now that we have our married couples seated on the sofas-"

Hermione gaped at the redhead. "Married?" She whipped her head to face Malfoy. "This is a married couples game?" Malfoy just lifted his shoulders in response, and directed his attention back to the center of the room.

"Hermione, I can see that look on your face. For the premise of the game, you and Malfoy will play a married couple. And you can't say no," he added when she opened her mouth to protest, "or the game will fail and my business will crumble." Hermione snapped her mouth shut with defiance. "Now, where were we?"

Malfoy leaned closer to speak so quietly that only she could hear him. "Hey, Granger, I really hope we win." Hermione scoffed and pushed him away from her.

"-all the spell does is make you glow a specific color to show whether or not your partner got the question right. It won't hurt and will fade on its own after a few hours," George was continuing to the group.

After he waved his wand over everyone's heads, he started shuffling a stack of cards that he had pulled from his robes. He placed the stack on the table in front of him and drew a card from the top of the pile. "First question: what is your spouse's favorite meal? Sarah?"

Sarah perked right up, clearly knowing the answer to the question. "Oh! Ron's favorite meal is steak and kidney pie with mashed potatoes and corn bread!"

Everyone turned toward Ron to see if Sarah had indeed got the question right and what would happen if she was correct. Suddenly a halo of green behind Ron's head began to glow. It brightened until it was shooting rays across the room and everyone had to divert their eyes. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

"Maybe need to lower the brightness of that then," George mumbled to himself as he made a quick note on a scrap of parchment. "Okay, Ginny, same question."

Ginny didn't hesitate and monotonically stated Harry's favorite meal. "Fish and chips. Doesn't want anything too fancy this one."

Harry chuckled, but turned his eyes upward to the green that began to glow around his head.

"Excellent! Hermione?"

Annoyingly Hermione knew Malfoy's favorite meal, they ate enough together over the past few years. Of course he would want something elaborate for his favorite meal, he was Malfoy after all. "Beef Wellington with green beans, mashed potatoes and Firewhisky. Followed up by Pumpkin Pasties," she stated matter-of-factly.

Everyone in the room directed their eyes toward her, shocked that she would know something so intimate and specific about Malfoy. Suddenly Malfoy's hair began to glow green and everyone's eyes grew larger.

"Interesting to know, Granger," Malfoy mumbled beside her.

She rolled her eyes and addressed George, "Can we move on? Next question."

George gained his composure and moved on. The rest of the game went on with very few hiccups. Ginny had gotten the question of Harry's most recent dream wrong: she said he had dreamt of getting chased by Hippogriffs, when he had actually had a dream about falling off his broom during a game of Quidditch. Ron had gotten two questions wrong about Sarah: what her favorite flower was and what color she hated the most. Hermione surprisingly, had gotten almost all questions about Malfoy right. When Ginny questioned out loud how that was possible, Hermione spat out that Malfoy talks so much about himself, it was hard to not hear it all. Malfoy in turn, had gotten only three questions about Hermione wrong. When he answered the first question correct, he had boasted and told her that she was easily readable, so when he had got the next question wrong, Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the look of defeat on his face.

"What do you mean your favorite color is purple? You're always wearing blue!" He exclaimed.

"Only because it looks better on me. I can like purple in other things," she explained.

He just shook his head and crossed his arms. "It's blue," he mumbled under his breath.

At the end of the night, not surprising, Ginny and Harry had won with only one question missed a piece. They cheered and embraced and passed drinks around the room in celebration.

"Hey, Granger. Are we still married?" She heard behind her when she was on her way out of the room.

"Wha-?" Hermione turned to gape at Malfoy.

"Good," he grinned. "Mind filling my glass again on your way to the kitchen?" He held his empty glass out to her.

She frowned, but snatched the glass from his hand anyway and grumbled the whole way to the kitchen.

When she returned, everyone was donning their cloaks and heading for the door.

"See you the same time next month!" George shouted over his shoulder right before he exited the house and disappeared with a CRACK.

"Next month?" She questioned no one in particular, two full glasses poised in her hand.

"He wants to try it again after he's worked out all the flaws," Malfoy replied, grabbing his glass from her hand and downing it in one go. "Don't want Weasley's hair catching on fire again."

"It didn't catch fire!" Ron said. "It just smoked a touch," he whispered under his breath.

"Could've fooled me. I best be off. See you next time, wife," he said to Hermione. He whipped his cloak around his shoulders and disappeared into the night.

…..

One Month Later:

The same group as before were all crammed in George's tiny living room; he had asked them all last minute to meet him in his flat above the joke shop, so if there were any mishaps, he could fix them much quicker than if they were at someone else's house.

Ginny and Harry had taken the sofa, Sarah and Ron took the loveseat, leaving the single armchair for Hermione and Malfoy. She had opted for sitting on the arm, with Malfoy in the seat, until he had pulled her into his lap. She fought and squirmed and kicked and he just roped his arms around her waist and held tight.

"If we're married, Granger, then you need to sit with your husband for the game," he snickered into her ear. She huffed and pulled her elbow back into his ribs, forcing him to let go and allowing her to take the space on the floor by his feet. He nudge her with his foot, which she smacked away from her.

"Right," George started as he sorted through a pile of cards. "I fixed a few of the mishaps we had last time, so hopefully it will go a lot smoother this time." He waved his wand over everyone's heads and began the game.

The game was going well enough, each team was tied with four points each and the competitiveness was really starting to kick in. Ginny had whooped and paraded around the room when Harry correctly guessed her guilty pleasure: eating Chocolate Frogs in bed. Ron had lifted Sarah up and spun her around when she answered his biggest fear: spiders. Malfoy had even challenged the spell-work when his head turned red at his answer of Hermione's favorite book: Hogwarts: A History.

"I know it's her favorite book!" He shouted, jumping up from his seat in a fit of anger. "I've seen her read it about a million times! Ask her! If I'm wrong I'll give you my entire inheritance!"

All eyes moved to Hermione who nodded, confirming his answer. "It is my favorite book."

"I told you!" Malfoy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He turned toward Hermione, his chest heaving at his tirade. Their eyes met briefly. He winked at her and she felt a small flutter in the pit of her stomach. She averted her eyes before she could decide what that was about.

George just nodded and twirled his wand above her head. "It seems as though you're right, Malfoy. I'll change the score accordingly."

"Thank you," Malfoy huffed, plopping back down in his chair.

After another hour of the game, the Potters had taken the lead by three points.

"Last question," George announced. "Where is your spouse's comfort space?"

"Easy," Malfoy said, leaning back in the chair. "The library."

Everyone nodded in agreement until the ring around his head glowed red.

"Is this some kind of glitch again?" He grumbled.

Hermione shook her head, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Nope, that's not right."

Malfoy leaned forward in the chair and turned his head to her. "What?"

She lifted hers to look up at him. "That's not right, Malfoy. It's somewhere else."

Ginny snickered at the look of defeat on Malfoy's face from across the room. He directed his glowering look to her. "Not everyone can be as perfect as you and Potter, Ginny."

She shrugged and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers, a smirk appearing on her lips. "No, but they do try don't they?"

After Ginny and Harry were announced the winners, drinks were distributed around the room. Hermione grabbed a pillow for behind her back, but stayed planted on her spot on the floor. Malfoy had stayed in his chair as well, leaning over slightly to converse with Ron about a project at work.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the chair, listening to the pleasant conversation between her friends. After a few moments of peace she felt a slight nudge on her knee. She opened her eyes to find Malfoy towering over her from his spot on the armchair.

"So what is your comfort spot, Granger?"

She smiled and leaned her head back again. "Give it a good think, Malfoy."

He mumbled something under his breath, but stayed in his spot, determined to find the answer.

"The archives in the Ministry?" He asked.

"No."

"The library at your flat?"

"No."

"The rooftop garden on the Mairie du Centre-ville in Paris?"

Hermione lifted her head slightly and opened her eyes looking at him incredulously. "The what? No."

His forehead wrinkled and his brow furrowed. Hermione sat forward and chuckled. "Malfoy, it's not that big of a deal."

"I should know my fake wife's favorite place, shouldn't I, Granger?" He snapped.

Hermione sighed and twisted her body to face him. "There's a park by my parents house, where I grew up. In the back of the park is a duck pond with a gazebo covered in wisteria. It's beautiful and peaceful. While I do like to bring books there, I prefer it there than the library."

His mouth dropped open dramatically as she spoke. When she was finished he said, "Now how would I have known that?"

Hermione lifted her shoulders and threw a smirk at him. "Not sure. I have a picture of it in my flat. Just wanted to know how observant you are."

Malfoy shook his head, exasperated. "You're impossible." He leaned closer toward her subtly. "Now, Granger," he looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Ginny and Potter have this game rigged. I think we should meet on the side so we can beat them next time."

"Next time? I hardly think there'll be a need for us to all meet again," she sputtered out a bit stunned.

He turned his gaze to meet her eye to eye. "Oh come off it, Granger. Of course there'll be another time. Those two need to be humbled don't you think?"

George seemed to have gotten all the information he needed to release the game in the next few months to the public. There was no reason for them all the meet again to play, but Hermione had forgotten the company she was in. Of course they would all want to meet again to play. They had gotten incredibly competitive that evening, even so much as to shout insults at each other across the flat. They meant business and they meant to win.

"Fine," she drawled out in a sigh. "If we must. But that's all this is," she added, pointing to his chest. "Nothing more."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Of course. I would never imagine it to be anything more."

"Good," she said as she stood from her spot.

"Where are you going?"

"The kitchen, I'm starved."

"Granger," he pronounced her name slowly in that annoying way that told her he wanted something from her. "If we're still married, would you mind grabbing something for me as well?" He grinned at her, like she was one of the typical girls he spent time with that would do whatever he asked.

"Fine. But if we're still married, you're giving up that chair when I get back."

He chuckled and leaned back in the seat. "We'll see."

….

Two Weeks Later:

Hermione sat in the dark corner of the empty pub sipping on her Butterbeer. She and Malfoy had agreed to meet here over a half hour ago and he was entirely too late for her liking. She was just about to get up and walk out when he came bursting through the door, a bundle of parchment clutched to his chest.

"Right," he said in greeting as he dumped the papers to the table. "Here are the most likely questions that George will ask us."

"Most likely? How could you possibly know that?" Hermione asked as she picked up a couple of the parchments that had landed in front of her.

"Just a little bit of espionage, Granger," Malfoy replied, a playful glint in his eye.

"Malfoy, I'm not cheating!"

"Relax, Granger. I found some old articles in Witch Weekly that had questions to ask your partner. I figured that must be where he got his questions from." He slid into the booth across from her and signaled to the bartender that he'd take what she was drinking.

"And where did you find old articles of Witch Weekly?" She chortled at him.

"My mother likes to keep them around… shove off!"

She laughed again and reached for a sheet at random. "Okay, well let's start with an easy one then," She skimmed the page with her finger before landing on a safe enough question. "Did you have any childhood pets? Well I guess the real question is did you have any pets other than Aries?"

Malfoy turned from the bartender who had just delivered his drink. "What?"

"Aries. Your eagle owl. That was his name right?" She continued to skim through the paper and when he didn't answer she glanced up at him. "What's wrong?"

Malfoy just shook his head in disbelief. "I just didn't know you knew his name."

Hermione chuckled and went back to her paper. "Of course I knew it. It whacked me on the back of the head with it's wing just about every morning."

Malfoy took a gulp of his Butterbeer and almost spat it across the table. "I forgot about that. I told him to do that. I couldn't believe the first day when he did it."

Hermione looked up and sniggered at his reaction. "You were quite the prat, Draco Malfoy."

"That I was," he said toasting her with his glass.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her sheet. The comment didn't upset her like it would have in the past. After he had gained Harry and Ron's friendship, Malfoy had apologized to her for his actions in the past. She had been surprised, but glad that he had moved past the bullying phase of his life. Now his comments were mostly teasing, lacking all the malice they carried when they were in school.

"Well you did have that furball in school," he continued with her question, "but I'm not sure if you had anything before then."

"My parents got me a hamster one year for my birthday. I had a hard time caring for it so they gifted it to my cousin the next year. She killed it in a month," she said nonchalantly.

He laughed as he grabbed a parchment of his own. "Oh here's one, 'who is the better cook?' You obviously."

Hermione lowered her paper and glowered at him. "What do you mean 'me obviously'?"

Malfoy looked up and met her gaze. "I've always had elves to cook for me and you're… you know…" He trailed off but his intent was clearly there.

"Because I'm a woman?" He put up his hands as if to say well yeah. How dare he make such a sexist comment! "I can't believe you'd say that! I'll have you know, I am a terrible cook!" She exclaimed.

"Well out of the two of us, I'd say you're probably the best, Granger." He gestured between the two of them.

"We'll just have to see about that," Hermione retorted. "I've burnt almost everything I've made. I've had to change my palate to include char."

Malfoy threw his head back and laughed. "Point well made. We'll just have to test that theory one day and see."

The rest of the evening flew by much quicker than either of them anticipated. They had gone through most of the papers Malfoy had brought, only knowing a handful of information about the other based on the questions they asked. Hermione was beginning to see the questions really were from Witch Weekly based on how explicit the questions turned. At one point Hermione had read a question expecting to laugh over it with Malfoy when he responded with a sincere answer.

"Who's the better kisser?" Hermione laughed. "Who comes up with these questions?"

"Well that would obviously be me," Malfoy answered casually, not looking up from his paper.

"What? Why you?"

Malfoy's brows knitted together. "Because I've had the most practice," he said matter-of-factly.

Hermione scoffed. "Who said I haven't had practice?"

Malfoy gave her a level look. "Granger, I'm sure you're a decent kisser. But you haven't been around as much as I have."

Hermione could feel her face get hot. She turned her eyes back to the parchment in her hand as to avoid his look. She tried to brush off his comment with something sarcastic.

"Oh so being a harlot is something to flaunt?"

Malfoy snorted. "Hardly, but it's just a fact."

After about two hours of back and forth, Hermione stretched her arms above her head and yawned. "I think that's enough for tonight," she said as she collected the parchment from the table.

Malfoy nodded and helped her stack the questions. "Good idea. Meet back here next week?"

Hermione's head jerked up to meet his. Next week? Was he really that serious about beating Harry and Ginny that he wanted to meet with her twice before the next game night? Something in his eyes told her to say yes, which she did without further thought.

"Great. See you," he said brightly. He grabbed the stack of papers and whisked out the door, his robes billowing behind him.

….

Two Weeks Later:

Hermione plopped into the armchair, pleased that she had beaten Malfoy to George's flat, allowing her to claim the chair before him. They had met the week before in the same dark corner of the pub, Malfoy equipped with even more questions. Hermione had quirked an eyebrow, but didn't question his dedication to the game. If he wanted to beat their friends that badly, then so be it. Who was Hermione to judge? They had spent another two hours drilling each other for answers, most of which the other already knew. It was amazing what you could learn in three years of acquaintanceship.

Malfoy barged into the room, confidence pouring off of him. Hermione couldn't help but smile at his self-assuredness as he approached her. He raised a brow at her.

She answered his unspoken question. "If we're married, wife gets the chair. You have to learn to take turns, dear Draco."

His lips twitched at her response. He bowed at the hips mockingly before taking her seat the previous week on the floor.

Once everyone was seated and George started to delve out the questions, Hermione became hyper aware of how close Malfoy was to her legs. She could feel the heat of his body seeping into her jeans. For some reason, this caused her cheeks to flare with heat. She wiggled in her seat trying to move away from him, but the pressure on her legs returned again shortly after. Why was he sitting so close to her? Surely she didn't sit this close to him when she sat on the floor last month. Did he like sitting close to her? Did she like him sitting close to her? No, that would just be ridiculous.

"Hermione?" George interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh wha-? Yes?"

The room snickered at her.

"I asked you what Malfoy's favorite ice cream flavor was."

"Right." She wracked her brain for the answer. She could vaguely remember him telling her the answer to this question while they were in the pub the previous week. The slight pressure on her leg from his arm was making it hard to think. "Uh.." She picked up her legs and crossed them under her. Then the answer came to her. "Sticky Toffee."

Malfoy's hand reached up to pat her knee, her heart pounded fast in response. "Good job, Granger."

She looked down and gave him an unenthusiastic smile. What was the matter with her? They were playing a friendly game together and all he did was congratulate her on getting the answer correct. There was no need for this type of reaction.

Hermione cleared her throat and adjusted her legs again, this time further away from Malfoy's reach, and directed her focus to George as he asked Sarah the next question.

The evening had drug on much slower than Hermione had anticipated. Not only was everyone completely tied up, but her focus was taken from the game with every little movement Malfoy made; when he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, when another team got an answer wrong and he moved his arm in a celebratory manner. He had to get up once to go to the loo and she couldn't keep her eyes off his retreating figure. At one point she had laughed at something Ron said and unconsciously reached down to place her hand on Malfoy's shoulder. When he turned to look at her hand, she pulled it away as quickly as possible. Her answering questions correctly didn't help matters much either, he would pat her knee, or squeeze her foot, and one startling moment had stood up and pulled her into a celebratory hug. She had sat down very quickly after that with heat rising to her cheeks again.

No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary though as they were all determined to win the game. Ron had stood up, gotten in Harry's face and yelled, "In your face, Potter! Eat it!" when he and Sarah were named the winners. Ginny had thrown her wand to the ground and pounced on Ron. George had to pry her off of their brother and begged that the next month not to be as intense.

Because of her outlandish thoughts, Hermione had drunken more than her fair share of Firewhisky and she was feeling it. She had her head laid back in the armchair, her fingers making wand movements in the air. After Harry had dragged a raging Ginny through the fireplace, Malfoy had turned around and faced her.

"Good job tonight, Granger. We almost got them. Next time for sure."

She miraculously made some sort of agreeable noise.

He chuckled and touched her leg. "Had a little too much to drink there?" He looked over and eyed the glass of half drunken Firewhisky in her hand.

"Malfoy, are we still married?"

He smirked and leaned closer to hear her better. "Yes, why's that, Granger?"

"I seem to be inebriated. Mind taking me home?" She grumbled softly.

He laughed again and pulled her into a standing position. "With pleasure, dear Granger."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and to both of their surprises, she wrapped her arm around his waist. Malfoy nodded to the two Weasley brothers on their way out and Disapperated with a CRACK.

Hermione awoke the next morning with a terrible headache and a roaring in her ears. She groaned as she rolled onto her side to grab her wand from the nightstand. Underneath her wand she found a slip of parchment. She pulled it closer to her face so she could read the loopy writing.

I left a Hangover Potion for you in the bathroom, lightweight.

See you next month.

DM

Hermione crumbled up the parchment and tossed it across the room. She could almost hear him mocking her through the paper. He couldn't just drop her off and leave her be, he had to keep up his teasing attitude. She sat up and tried to hold back her sudden urge to vomit. Next month. So he didn't expect to meet up again in two weeks to practice for the next night— fine by her. The last thing she needed was to get smashed again and become even more of an embarrassment.

The one positive thing about not seeing him for another month, she thought while she brushed her teeth, was that she had enough time to get her feelings under control, lest she make a fool of herself again.