Submission for the QLFC Finals!

Keeper for the Chudley Cannons

Prompt: Your character must be intentionally misled by someone.

Word Count: 1818

"Malfoy's what?"

"Shh, not so loud, Ron!" Hermione said, hoping none of the other patrons in the cafe had heard his outburst. Luckily, it appeared no one was interested in them, tucked away as they were in the back corner booth.

"Malfoy's gay," Harry said slowly, as if testing the words out, and then he shrugged. "Sure, I guess I could buy that."

"Parkinson didn't explicitly say he was gay, though, did she?"

"Well, no," Hermione admitted, "but it was heavily implied."

In her position as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, she frequently had to give press statements to the Prophet when the Minister was busy, and since Parkinson was in charge of reporting Ministry business, they saw each other quite often. They'd had a meeting scheduled earlier today, although she'd completely forgotten about it, since she'd been in the middle of a vicious debate with Draco about the last case he'd prosecuted as the Head of the DMLE.

If she was honest, she hadn't really disagreed with him at all, but when he'd sauntered into her office with that smug look on his face and asked her what she thought — well, she'd had to find something to nitpick over, hadn't she? Of course, the desired effect had not been achieved, and instead of leaving, firmly chastised, her objection had only encouraged him to dig his heels in harder, and that blasted smirk had persistently stayed on his aggravatingly attractive face.

Hermione had felt herself growing more and more flustered by his presence, her argument becoming less and less coherent, and that was when Parkinson had walked for their scheduled meeting.

Malfoy had left fairly quickly after that, not seeming to be happy to see Parkinson, which was odd, because she was sure they were good friends, as evidenced by what Parkinson said next.

"Well! He is in a snit, isn't he? Let me tell you, Granger, I did manage to get him out of the Manor over the weekend, but he insisted on not enjoying himself — the only thing he was any good for was telling me which blokes were definitely gay and not worth my time."

Hermione had hardly remembered what she said after that past what she had already prepared for the press release. The rest of the day she passed in a daze, untl Harry stopped by her office at half-past-four, took one look at her, and dragged her out, sending a patronus to Ron to join them on the way. She'd explained it all, and now here they were.

"I guess I just didn't realize I fancied him."

"You didn't — Hermione! You've been flirting with him all over the Ministry!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

"No, I haven't," Hermione protested weakly, and both Harry and Ron looked back at her, clearly unconvinced. "We were debating our respective opinions."

"Hermione, you treated us to a rant about the merits of restricting access to addictive potions last month and then the next day we heard you 'debating' the opposite with him," Harry said pointedly.

"Really, 'Mione, you could put us all out of our misery with two words: I agree."

Hermione flushed. They did have a point. At least half of her arguments with Draco were instigated purely because she was desperate to find something to disagree with him over.

"Well, it's hardly like it matters now, does it? I'll get over him, now that I know, and I suppose it would be best to stop picking arguments with him —"

"Now she admits it," she heard Ron mutter, but she ignored him and barreled on.

"— and I wonder if Ibrahim or Sergey are single? Perhaps I could set him up on a date."

"No," Ron moaned, "stop."

"What?"

"It's just that you don't really know for sure, do you?" Harry asked. "I mean, maybe Parkinson didn't mean anything by saying that, um —"

"That Malfoy has an excellent gaydar?" Hermione laughed shortly. "Please. The only straight people with gaydar just aren't out yet."

Harry and Ron pulled faces, but they didn't disagree with her. There wasn't really much more to say on the subject after that, and eventually they split to head home, where Hermione went directly to the icebox for some ice cream and polished it off while cuddling with Crooks on the sofa.

Hermione had been hoping that she could avoid Draco for a few days in order to mentally prepare herself, but she had no such luck. Directly after lunch, as if he had been lying in wait for her return, Draco pranced into her office, strategically perched his long, lean body on the arm of one of the chairs in front of her desk, and sat there looking at her with a smirk. He didn't seem inclined to move, and so Hermione resigned herself to her fate.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

His smirk grew improbably wider at her acknowledgement of his presence, despite her standoffish tone.

"Everything's been arranged for Davenport," he said, raising one eyebrow like a challenge.

They had 'debated' several of the finer points surrounding that case just last week. Hermione pursed her lips and managed to force herself not to pick it back up again.

"Excellent," she said calmly. "When is it going to trial?"

Draco's smirk seemed to freeze a little, but he still answered her. "The fifteenth. Nine am."

Hermione dutifully marked it on her calendar, feeling Malfoy's eyes on her the whole time. Trying to keep her voice even, she asked, "Did you know Sergey is single?"

She had just managed to confirm it earlier that morning while chatting with some of the secretaries in the break room over tea. Somehow, they always knew everyone's relationship status.

Draco was quiet for a few seconds, and when she dragged her eyes up to his face it was to see an expression of utter bewilderment on it. "Er, yes, I did," he finally said.

"Oh," Hermione said, not really sure where to go from there. She hadn't thought much past this point; matchmaking was definitely Ginny's forte, and not hers. Perhaps she should have asked her for a quick crash course before attempting this.

"Right," said Draco, stretching out the vowel, and Hermione realized she'd let the silence go a little too long, "I'll see you around, Granger."

He left her office in a much more subdued manner than he entered, shooting a puzzled look back over his shoulder at her as he went. Hermione stared at the empty space where he'd been for several minutes before turning back to her paperwork and hoping she could lose herself in it.

The next few days were much the same: Draco came by her office every day and attempted to strike up some kind of argument, and Hermione firmly resisted the temptation to engage him in one, keeping their conversations short and unexciting. She didn't bring up anyone's relationship status again, having decided that trying to set Malfoy up with someone was much more than she was prepared to do, and besides, it turned out that simply ignoring the blatant invitation to have a quarrel with him was taking all of her strength anyway.

By the end of the week, she probably would have snapped, if it weren't for her happening to overhear a conversation between Parkinson and Malfoy. She was passing what she thought was an empty conference room on the way to her office in the morning when she heard voices from inside, and slowed her brisk walk to a slow meander.

"Just tell me!"

"Now where's the fun in that, darling?"

It was Malfoy and Parkinson, Hermione thought, and she wondered if this was about the odd tension they'd had in that brief encounter in her office last week.

"Whatever you said has given her the wrong impression about something, Pans," she heard Draco hiss, "and if you ruin this for me, I swear to Salazar —"

"Ruin what? Your way wasn't getting you anywhere," Pansy laughed. "You'll be thanking me soon; you'll see."

At this point, Hermione really couldn't justify lingering in the corridor much longer; it was obvious that their conversation was nearly over, and while she was curious, she probably would only get caught if she dilly-dallied longer.

Hermione didn't particularly like participating in gossip and office drama herself — in her opinion, it was messy, unproductive, and could all be done away with if people would only communicate properly. However, she wasn't above speculating over what she had heard, and those thoughts pleasantly occupied her as she started in on her paperwork for the day.

What had Malfoy been planning that Parkinson had allegedly ruined? What had Parkinson done? Who was the 'her' they had been talking about? What was Malfoy ultimately going to thank Parkinson for? She supposed she might never know, she concluded, and resolved to not let it distract her from the actual, important work she needed to get done for the Minister.

She kept this resolution firmly in mind when Draco waltzed into her office later that afternoon and professed that he wanted to repeal the House Elf's Rights Act.

"Draco, what in Merlin's name is the problem?" she asked, fixing him with a no-nonsense look. "And don't say you really think you want it repealed; you were my co-sponsor for it!"

"Well, you've been so reticent lately, Hermione," he drawled, sprawling in the chair on the other side of her desk as if he owned it. "You've hardly spoken to me at all."

"There's just been a lot on my mind," Hermione said, feeling rather flustered, "and Pansy said — well, I suppose it's not important."

"No, do tell me what Pansy said," Draco leaned forward with a calculating look.

"She just sort of… hinted at something that made me assume you were gay?" Hermione said the last few words very quickly and very quietly, and it clearly took Draco a few moments to decipher what she'd said, but then he abruptly wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I'm not gay," he said with a grimace. "I'm simply… nondiscriminatory in regards to the gender of my romantic partners."

Hermione stared at him in astonishment for a moment. "You're bisexual."

"I'm a Malfoy; we dislike labels," he sniffed.

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione realized with a groan, "You have been flirting with me."

"And you have been flirting back," Draco said with a teasing grin. "Would you care to take things a little further sometime?"

Hermione couldn't help laughing; it was such a ridiculous tangle they'd gotten themselves into. It was so obvious, now. She completely understood what Harry and Ron had been on about. And, she suddenly thought, the conversation between Parkinson and Malfoy that she had eavesdropped on this morning had been about her.

"Alright, then. Under one condition," Hermione said, and Draco perked up with interest.

"Yes?"

"You've got to go thank Pansy Parkinson."