Here is another tumblr request. They're so much fun guys. I've gotten a lot of requests that are also going to be oneshots, and short stories, so if I haven't gotten to yours yet, I will!

Request: Dramione. Hermione tries out a new red lipstick. Draco has never really spared Hermione a second glance at the office until one day he notices she's wearing lipstick. Hope you enjoy!

Granger was attractive when he stopped to think about it, but he'd never looked twice her way. He vividly remembered her being an uptight swot, and an absolute fucking nag in school, which made it hard to look at her any other way than one that related to disgust.

Forced into close proximity with her when Unspeakable Croaker demanded they work together. Citing the reasons that no one else was willing to work with him, and Granger had fucking offered, he was left with no other choice.

There was a permanent scowl on his face when he walked to her office that morning. He'd been up for hours, his stomach twisting at the thought of working with her. His left arm was much heavier than it usually was, and he'd stared at the Dark Mark, specifically the snake's mouth for hours that morning wishing the snake would swallow him whole.

Of course she had offered. Granger loved taking on charity cases, didn't she? Or maybe it was due to the fact that he'd mostly solved the mystery already—a dinky box recovered from the last of the Death Eater hideouts that caused whoever who touched it to come under a violent curse.

Six Aurors had died.

Really, it was supposed to be about that, but—

Her door swung open.

Draco's mouth dried, whatever sharp insult that had been poised at the tip of his tongue dying with it. "Good morning."

She cocked her head to the side, and drew her bottom lip in between her teeth, sucking it. It made everything infinitely worse. "Morning. Were you going to linger outside my door all day, or were you going to come inside?"

Her gaze dropped to his throat as he swallowed.

Her lips were painted red. If it had been just the first day, he could have stood that. Despite how pretty it was when her tongue darted out to slide against her bottom lip, or the way she would give coy little smirks when she outdid him—which, might he add, was fucking often—he could have ignored that.

But it was every day for three weeks now. She wore skirts that were ministry regulation, but just barely. When she crossed her legs in front of him while they sat on opposing sofas, he dragged his eyes over every inch of creamy skin that was exposed. Granger bent over in front of him, but it was never purely improper.

She'd drop her quill—fuck, why was she so clumsy—and crouch down to pick it up. Her skirt was tight around her arse, and all he could imagine was watching her just like that while she sucked him off.

While meeting with a curse breaker, Granger conveniently bent over the desk in front of him, her arse bumping against his barely hidden arousal, to pick something up. Nothing about it looked terrible, not the way she smiled as she gathered a new piece of information, not the way her blouse was snug against her breasts and showcased the curves he wanted to trace with his fingers and tongue, not the way she slipped and ground against his pelvis.

When she ate her lunch, she liked to savour each bite, and it was about to make him goddamned mental with the occasional satisfied, but weak, sound she made.

She sucked on the end of sugar quills, her cheeks hollowing until his trousers were tight. It was all he could imagine, to have her on her knees while she took his cock into her pretty mouth.

Draco realised it later than he should have—Hermione Granger was fucking with him.

He barged into her office without knocking, his cheeks flushed, and his legs slightly weak from an impromptu morning wank he'd had after waking from an embarrassingly vivid dream about her and her fucking lipstick. "Granger."

She sat up in her chair, lips still irritatingly plump and red, and arched an eyebrow. "Malfoy, I thought I wouldn't be seeing you since our time together is over. Is there something I can help you with?"

Draco dragged his fingers through his hair. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Her grin was bright, triumphant, and he'd explore that later. "I'd love to. Eight o'clock?"

Sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, Draco nodded with a smirk. "I'll pick you up. And, Granger," Draco turned back as he paused at her door, "wear that lipstick."