Draco strolled into the Ministry atrium, shaking off the questions of a gaggle of reporters wanting to know his thoughts on the latest edition of Witch Weekly. Even after all the years of being in the spotlight, he'd never get used to dealing with it. Potter dealt with it with grace, he was a bit more brutish when it came to invasions of his privacy.

"You're late." Potter said cheerfully, handing over a cup of coffee.

"Reporters. Again." Draco grumbled, accepting the cup. "New Witch Weekly came out this morning." He said rolling his eyes. "Are you sure I can't get Gin to hex them?"

"I'm sure." Potter chuckled. "Sucks being a part of the Golden quartet. Isn't that what they're calling us now?"

"It's shite, especially when I didn't ask for it." Draco muttered.

"Mate, you're my partner. You're stuck with it." He laughed. "Are they still speculating on who you're dating these days? Are they even remotely close?"

"There's a lot of speculation, yet I've still been named England's most eligible bachelor eight years running. Eight years Potter. Eight fucking years I've waited." Draco grumbled.

"She's not observant, our 'Mione. You'll likely have to just come out and say it."

"Not bloody likely." Draco snorted. "She'll hex my balls off."

"Just talk to her. Go fetch our reports. It'll give you an excuse to visit her." Potter offered.

"Thanks for your stellar advice mate." Draco rolled his eyes, dropped his cup in the bin, and left the office. He strolled into Hermione's office just in time to catch her muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ferret. He could just see the edge of the magazine poking out from under her stack of parchment. He grinned wickedly and dropped onto her couch, kicking his feet up just to annoy her.

"What was that Granger? I didn't catch that." He smirked.

"Nothing that bears repeating Malfoy. Get your feet off my couch. What do you want?" she grumbled, not bothering to even look at him.

"Potter sent me for our reports." He shrugged but shifted just enough so that his feet were no longer on the couch "and to see my favorite witch."

"Ginny's your favorite."

"Ah, yes, she's my favorite married witch. Different categories." He grinned. "Have you got your copy of Witch Weekly? I know you ladies follow that garbage."

"Yes, if you must know, it came this morning. I haven't read it." A blush crept up across her breast and up her neck. He reveled in the reaction that she had to him. Maybe he was closer to his goal than he thought.

"Ah, but the blush says otherwise my dear," he smirked, "which photo did they choose this time?"

"Take your reports and get out." Hermione hissed, shoving a stack of parchment at him.

"Touchy today, aren't we?" he teased. He loved it when she got moody. "Don't you have a date tonight? Poor bloke won't know what to do with that attitude."

"It was last night." She said crossing her arms "We had a lovely evening despite the problem with our reservation." She leveled him with a look. He had, of course, caused the problem with the reservation, but didn't expect that she'd still have a good evening.

"Such a pity." Draco tsked as he sat up.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop meddling in my dating life." Ah, so she knew. Of course, she knew. Granger knew bloody everything except how he felt about her. Insufferable witch.

"I only meddle when they aren't good enough for you." He shrugged. "Pick a better one next time."

"Malfoy, you've deemed every man I've dated in the past five years not good enough. Pray tell me just who I should date?" There it is. The question he'd been waiting for years to hear.

"Me." Draco shrugged, rising swiftly to his feet. He had to get out before she collected herself enough to hex him. "See you, Granger."

He stalked down the corridor and back into the office he shared with Potter. He all but slammed the door and raked a hand through his blonde locks. He paced the open space between their desks muttering to himself.

"You ok mate?" Potter finally asked. "Did you bring the reports?"

"I don't have the fucking reports." Draco snarled. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm a bloody idiot."

"Let me floo Gin. You can talk to her." Potter offered. Ginny Potter had a way about her that could calm his nerves in almost any circumstance. He continued to pace while Potter had his head in the fireplace. He'd made four or five circuits across the room when the floo roared to life and Ginny stepped into the room, brushing soot from her rather large belly.

"What have you done to my ferret Harry?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrow, as she crossed the room to greet him.

"Why's it always my fault when he gets riled?" Potter asked, offended that his wife would suggest such a thing. "I'm going to see 'Mione." He grumbled as he slipped out of the room.

"Because it usually is." Ginny quipped. "Now, what happened love?"

"I'm an idiot." Draco grumbled, throwing himself into his desk chair. "I taunted her and almost told her, but then chickened out."

"Our girl is a bit dense. Especially when it comes to men, you especially." Ginny soothed. "And you aren't helping with your date sabotaging and cryptic comments."

"I don't know what else to do." He shrugged dejectedly. "She'll hex my balls off if I just come out and tell her. Judging by the way she reacted when I said what I said today, I don't stand a chance."

"Well, I don't have all day. What did you say?" she prodded.

"I told her that she should date me." He groaned and covered his eyes with his arm.

"Oh" she squeaked. "That was rather abrupt. I can see why she might have freaked out a bit. Do you want me to try to smooth it over for you?" He nodded enthusiastically. "I've got an appointment in a couple of hours, but I can take her to lunch and see what she has to say. Why don't you come to the Leaky in say, 45 minutes?"

"Why?" he asked warily.

"We're going to fix this. I don't want to dance around this anymore. Eight years is bloody long enough." She said seriously.

"This is why you're my favorite." He grinned and kissed her cheek. "45 minutes." Ginny pat him on the cheek and flounced out of the office. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself for 45 minutes, nor what he planned on doing once he arrived, but if Ginny had a plan, he'd just roll with it.