The Leaky was heaving and it was almost impossible to hear anyone while the band was on but some mind-numbing noise was exactly what Hermione needed tonight. She could easily believe that things had become so tangled. She'd known it would happen. It was the best case scenario really and she and Malfoy had walked right into it and it was more her fault because she'd known the consequences. She had only herself to blame so a night on a very loud dancefloor sounded just about perfect right now.

Whenever she went dancing like this she thought of all the nights out she, Harry and Ron never had as teenagers, too busy saving the bloody world. They'd never had a real chance to be reckless. First there was the war; both winning it and surviving it, and then there was the press and the need to rebuild their whole society from the ground-up which stopped them from behaving badly. They had all this responsibility from so young, it was amazing none of them had gone completely off the rails, yet. It was nights like this, when she was thinking like this, that she wished both Voldemort and Dumbledore had lived longer, long enough for her to knee both of them firmly in the balls. The War, it was the gift that kept on giving.

Susan, herself and some of Susan's female colleagues from Legislative Prep were dancing together. The only one she really knew well was Susan and that was just how Hermione wanted things tonight. Of course she still had to carry the weight of her reputation and she was sure more than one of group was mentally commenting on the fact that they were dancing with Hermione Granger but she couldn't control that so she tried not to think about it. Susan had caught her eye with a look of concern earlier but Hermione shrugged it off. She would be a good person to confide in but ignoring the hippogriff in the room was tonight's plan and possibly get immensely drunk. Yes, that sounded like quite a good plan.

Plans. You couldn't trust them. Plans got you into all sorts of trouble. The plan had been to do research, to find out, through experiment, what it was she wanted from Draco and what it was he thought he was trying to achieve. Well what happened when you didn't like what you found out? What happened when you were left with two people and a huge mess after your research was done? Plans were stupid when it came to your heart but she'd known that before hadn't she? Lesson insufficiently learned. Now the only plan she had was to drink until she could no longer spell insufficient.

*Thud* *Bump*

"Miss me then Granger?" asked Draco as he was shoved against the wall of the parchment cupboard.

"Desperately" Hermione responded with obvious sarcasm as she nuzzled his collar.

"Ah, trying to cover your troubled feelings with snark? You can't fool me that way. I am the former king of that country. You did miss me. You are desperate."

"The fact that we've been here less than a minute and you already have your hand up my skirt would suggest you are the desperate one."

There was no talking for a few minutes as they each tried to win the battle of indifference by snogging the faces off each other. Their logic may have been flawed but the passion with which they each tried to prove their point was undeniable. This stalemate lasted until Granger broke off and did that thing to his earlobe again. Draco whimpered, in a manly way, and Hermione smirked victoriously.

"What would your mother say if she could see you now?"

Draco looked at her as if she'd just farted. "I don't really want to talk about mother just now Granger."

She raked a hand through his hair persuasively. "Why not? It's totally normal. I ask you how your lunch went every Thursday afternoon."

"Not last Thursday" said Draco, he was clearly still pissed off about it too.

"Last Thursday we weren't friends. Now we are."

"Friends? That's what we are is it?" he said before dragging the tip of his nose up the column of her throat.

"Mneh!" was the high-pitched noise Hermione made. Draco mentally added it to his collection.

She placed an open mouthed kiss on his slightly stubbly cheek to give her time to gather her wits (and also because it was just there and she wanted to taste it). "I'm hardly on her pre-approved list of Witches You May Consort With."

Draco backed away from her a whole inch and a half. He looked at her, trying to work out what she was really asking. He considered telling her the truth - that she had been at the very top of his mother's list for over a year, that Narcissa Malfoy would be comically delighted with this turn of events, she might even smile - the word "friends" made him doubt the reception of that little nugget. She still hadn't agreed to go out with him. Caution was advised.

"She'd think we were being very, very naughty Granger" he said with a smirk while his thumb grazed the arc of her breast.

Something he wasn't quite able to identify appeared on Hermione's face, just for a moment, then she grinned, wiggled closer to him and resumed the snogfest.

Draco was annoyed, in fact he was royally pissed off. He looked at her out there enjoying herself on the dancefloor. He was aware that staring at her over the rim of his pint glass was unlikely to cause her any distress at all but he was finding it next to impossible to look away. He wished his glare could make her feel just a little bit of his tumult but all evidence to the contrary. There she was, in all her glory, shaking that delectable arse for all the world to see as if she weren't a soul-sucking banshee.

He really had never thought heartless was a word he'd be using to describe Hermione Granger but it was now his first choice of adjective for her. It had always seemed to him that if it wasn't for the size of her brain she'd be known as a walking bleeding heart with ridiculous hair. It turned out that she didn't have a heart at all, or if she did he had no place in it, no way to get in. It was closed to him because of things he'd done when he was basically a child. Of course what she'd done as a child was save the world. He had done terrible things and maybe this was what justice felt like. Perhaps all the counselling, community service and probation weren't the real justice at all. They were just the prelude to this: the knowledge that if you watched her be tortured and did nothing to stop it you weren't allowed get the girl in the end.

No-one would blame her. There were even parts of him that didn't, that sort of forgiveness was improbable to say the least. He certainly wasn't capable of it. What really galled him was they way he'd been idiotic enough to think it was really an option. Making him think he was more than just a roll in the hay with the dark side was cruel of her, on the other hand he wasn't at all sure he would prefer to go through the whole of life without the few days where he'd believed being with Hermione Granger was an option. Yes he knew that was contradictory she was cruel for giving him something he refused to give back? Well he was in a contradictory mood and probably would be forever now. And that was her fault too.

"Do you remember when doddery old Carlton first showed us these?" he asked holding the back of her Wizengamot robes as she shrugged them off.

"Vividly. I was sure sticking my locker in the darkest corner of the Robing Room was a deliberate insult to the Muggleborn until I noticed yours was right beside mine."

"Yes, he was the first person we met who hated us both equally and all because we had our original knees and could still bend over to tie our own shoes in the morning."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well I could in theory, obviously Dinko does the actual tying. He'd be dreadfully offended if I did it myself."

Hermione laughed and Draco briefly thought that perhaps that was what it sounded like when fairies played those water harp thingys near woodland pools.

"Lord knows we can't offend Dinko! Life wouldn't be worth living!" Granger said as she hung up her robes and closed the mahogany door of her appointed locker. She liked to tease him about his relationship with his only House-Elf once she realised that far from being oppressed Dinko was paid and also ruled Master Draco's domestic life with a rod of iron. Draco was never allowed buy his own clothes for example. If he did they would mysteriously disappear in the wash never to be seen again. The terrible slicked back hair had been Malfoy's teenage rebellion against the elf, and was only tolerated in the school term Hermione had found out to her great amusement.

"I don't know. I can think of a few things worth living for even if Dinko were in a huff" Malfoy said softly skimming her cheek with his knuckle. She shivered in response and briefly swayed into him before she stepped back holding her arms out to indicate that she was ready to help him with his robes. He allowed her to break the moment. He could still hear some of the other advocates shuffling round in the vast chamber.

"I remember you sighing and saying "Looks like we'll just have to cooperate Malfoy." you were paranoid that you'd put your cap on backwards in the dark and look ridiculous for your advocate debut or some such."

"I should think after all Dinko's years of training you would appreciate the importance of sartorial elegance Malfoy" she said as she took the full weight of his robes from his shoulders.

"Oh I know all about it I was just surprised you'd even heard of the concept. I'd seen no evidence of it up till then" he said taking his robes and hanging them in his adjacent locker

"You total git!" she replied slapping him in the shoulder with his Wizengamot cap.

Draco grinned and grabbed her wrist. "There are advantages to being given life-time lockers in the darkest, most remote corner of the chamber you know Granger, advantages we didn't think of at the time." He walked her back towards the wall as he said it, even further into the shadows.

When the first kiss broke apart and he was trailing his lips along her hair line he could have sworn she said something about not having the Wizengamot Robing Room on her list but that didn't make any sense so he took it as a sign her brain was fogged with lust. Excellent. He started to undo the buttons of her blouse.

"What do you think you are doing Advocate Malfoy?" she asked running her fingers through his soft, product-free hair.

"All of this cooperative disrobing has given me some ideas Advocate Granger." He continued unbuttoning

"I think I can guess what kind of ideas those are."

"I'm sure you can, you're very bright." She had yet to stop him and he had reached the last two buttons. He pulled the blouse out of her waistband and suddenly it was open. She stiffened perceptibly as he looked at her. The gloom didn't allow him to see all the detail he wanted to. She was wearing a cream lace top beneath her blouse. It presented her gorgeous cleavage like the precious treasure it was. He reached out to touch it.

"Malfoy" she said in a softly reproving tone as she tried to cover herself. She was probably more covered than she would be in a cocktail dress but this felt much more exposed.

"Don't" he pleaded, stopping her hands. She allowed him to put her hands back down by her sides. He traced a finger along the top of the lace. They both stopped breathing for a moment. She exhaled slowly, turning her head away from him. He pulled her chin back to face him and looked straight into her eyes "You are so beautiful Hermione Granger."

"In the dark maybe" she said attempting humour but only succeeding in sounding bitter.

"Beautiful everywhere. Beautiful here" he said running his hand up to the nape of her neck and twinning his fingers into hair beneath her bun "and here" he said kissing her closed eyelids "and here" he said his other hand toying with the lace of her camisole "and especially here" he kissed her lips with such tenderness that for a moment she believed him, or at least believed he meant it.

She pulled away. This was dangerous. "Draco" she said in a warning voice "you don't have to lie to me. It's just me...Granger"

It was his turn to recoil. "As you well know Granger I rarely do things because I have to."

"Except work with me." It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

He stepped away from her as if he'd been slapped. He straightened his jacket. "As usual Advocate Granger you cut to the heart of the matter. I'll see you back at the office." Just as he reached the end of their row of lockers he turned back to her. He was completely back-lit, she couldn't make out his expression at all just a silver halo at his blond head. "I'd respectfully remind the court that I am not the one who wants to this thing to stay in the shadows."

Hermione pushed her way towards the bar. It was crowded because the band was taking a break and the dancefloor had all but emptied. She was hot and wanted water followed by alcohol. She was fairly sure her hair was sticking to her face in an unattractive manner. The dancing was working, she'd been able to stop thinking about Draco for the first time in a week. She wasn't thinking about anything and it felt good. She stood and pushed and panted lost in her own little world.

"Hermione Granger isn't it?" said a voice near her head. She turned to look and a tall, vaguely familiar brown-haired man. He had a deep voice and was decidedly easy on the eye.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry have we met?"

"Sort of. Michael Donovan, Department of Magical Transportation, you gave us a talk last week, well half of two talks actually" he grinned at her. He had one dimple. This was ridiculous he looked like the kind of attractive attainable man from a clothing catalogue, any moment now he would point into the distance or look at his watch. He was a man made by the Gods to romp on a beach with a golden retriever.

"Yes sorry about that, very embarrassing, too many meetings I think I had presentationitis."

"What's that?"

"It's a disease I just made up to cover up the fact that I was ridiculously unprofessional in a meeting with you" she said with a smile.

"There's a Muggle invention that might help with that you know" he informed her and then Hermione stood there in growing horror as he explained Powerpoint to her. Not only did he explain the concept but he went on to tell her, slide by slide, about a presentation he'd given to his colleagues about expansions to the Floo Network in Eastern Europe. It was the most boring thing she'd ever heard and she'd survived Professor Binns. She stood there looking at the pretty, pretty man and thinking about what she would wear to work the following week, whether she should finally get a new cat, what to get her Dad for his birthday he usually wanted golf things but she always tried to persuade him to be more adventurous. Dimple boy was gesticulating so she tuned back in

"...so the name of each Floo hub came flying in from the left and I had each one make the noise of broom zooming by... "

He was still talking about the bloody presentation! What a waste of a good looking man. He was more boring than...than...and in that moment Hermione realised that she had no idea which of her erstwhile romantic partners were the most boring because she never really listened to any of them. She'd never seen the point, they had no interest in anything she had to say. Why try to converse with someone who just wanted to hear themselves talk? It was easier just to look at them. Urgh she was a horrible shallow person. No wonder everyone was getting at her about this. She was treating men like pieces of meat. Admittedly they weren't treating her much better, it's not like she was running around breaking hearts. The thought made her want to vomit. Just as she could see the bar and therefore the end of this Powerpoint-by-proxy torture a group of blokes from the project approached and curse them all to Hades Malfoy was among them.

"Oi Donovan" called one of them "we've got a pool tournament in the offing, you want in?" Who was he even talking to? Oh Boring-but-Pretty Boy was called Donovan apparently.

"I'm a little busy here Ross" he replied with a wink to Hermione. Her stomach made a threatening gurgle at the sight. Malfoy stood there at the back of the group of men, glaring at her. Yes she was definitely going to be sick. She felt as if she were stewing in misery, it was actually making her fidget. The pool players moved off with a few teasing comments to them both but Malfoy lingered.

"Where were we? Oh yes I was going to tell you all about computers."

"Lucky you Granger" said Malfoy in a drawl that reminded her of school. It was his nasty voice. "You've managed to find someone of your usual standard" he commented as he pushed past her.

Donovan looked between them briefly but as it wasn't about him he lost interest quickly. He launched into his explanation of computing, getting several basic points completely wrong of course, Hermione knew there were no live mice involved. Once Malfoy was out of ear shot, Hermione ordered her drinks, a double firewhiskey and a pint of water. Donovan talked over all of this interaction and she grew more and more annoyed at his presumption. When he finally paused for breath she laid a hand on his arm "Look" she started in a conciliatory tone "I'm here to dance with my friends tonight. I don't mean to be rude but I really want to get back to them, I'm sure I'll see you around."

"But I haven't finished telling you about computers" he said with what he clearly thought was a winning smile. Even just a month ago she would have fallen for it but now she was just exhausted by the meaninglessness of it. The two seconds when Malfoy had insulted her were the best bits of this alleged conversation. She sighed and decided to just say what she really thought.

"I know about computers. I own three. I'm famously Muggleborn, you can look me up. There are many badly written books on the topic of my early muggle life. I might have mentioned this earlier if you'd needed any response whatsoever but you were happy just to bore me silly. Next time you are trying to chat a woman up you might try listening to her for a change."

"Frigid bitch!" she heard him say as she walked away.

Bitch maybe, she thought to herself, frigid not on your nelly.

The conference room was stuffy. It always happened in the late afternoons due to the lack of actual air-conditioning, the air movement charms seem to flag post meridian and due to the Byzantine bureaucracy of the place no-one knew whose job it was to recast them. The meeting was long and Susan had been talking for ages. Hermione tried to pay attention but kept being distracted by the looseness of Draco's tie. She wanted to reach over and take it off him, or possibly fix it. She had actually had to sit on her hands to prevent herself from doing it. He was scowling down at his parchment. He'd been scowling a lot since The Episode in the Robing Room. So part of her wanted to rip his tie off, lick his neck and remove that scowl the old-fashioned way while another part wanted to fix it, run a hand through his hair, give him a hug and make him a good hot meal. She was not entirely sure which impulse was the more disturbing at this stage. His hair was messy. That was very unusual. She needed some kind of exclusive contact between them to reassure her that he was alright, that everything would be fine and things between them were not irretrievably broken.

That was why she'd started trying to play footsie with him under the table. She wanted him to look up so she could mouth her question. It started out almost like school-child mischief, a swipe at his shins. When he made no response at all she changed the game. Once again she slipped her foot out of her shoe and ran it up his leg. On her second pass she found the hem of his trouser leg and her stockinged toes met his skin. Draco didn't satisfy her need for connection by looking up but he did accommodate her, stretching out his legs towards her, spreading his knees. She pushed and pointed her foot all the way to his knee, stroking the line of his calf with her big toe but she got tangled in material.

He caught her foot between his knees when she tried again. When she felt his touch she struggled not to squirm in her seat. Draco Malfoy was giving her a foot massage in the middle of an interdepartmental meeting. He was right; she was a naughty girl that his mother would not approve of, she was thrilled with the concept. He stroked the arch of her foot very delicately. She almost wasn't sure he was touching her at all but the electricity up her spine said he was. He held on gently, his fingers on top and his thumb exploring the ball, sole and toes. Hermione had never realised her foot was an errogenous zone before but she was a puddle of monosyllabic want and he hadn't touched her anywhere above the ankle yet.

"Are you alright Hermione you look a bit flushed?" said Amanda on her left.

Hermione motioned for a glass of water and whispered "Just a little warm" in response.

"Be careful not to overheat Granger" said Draco as he ran his hand teasingly up her leg under the table. She coughed into her water glass. Oh he was not getting away with that. She scooted her chair in a little further to the table and took up her quill, making notes. She also slid her foot forward to connect with what she thought was Draco's upper thigh. By the squeak he made she was more on target than she'd thought. Yes! She gently moved he foot back and forth exploring this interesting development. "Water Draco?" she said pouring him a glass with a look of total innocence on her face. She couldn't believe her own boldness.

He looked at her. Now it seemed he was the one having trouble not jumping out of his seat to remove her clothes. He made a face similar to when he really tried to control his temper. They were stuck just looking at each other. She moved her foot again glorying in the expression on his face. There was the connection she'd needed.

Everyone around them got up and shuffled papers, chatting about their evening plans. It seemed the meeting was over. Hermione and Draco stayed seated. She felt him run his nails down her calf before his hand disappeared, she mapped his inner thigh with her toes before she disentangled herself and found her shoe.

They got all the way to their own office before it started properly. As soon as the frosted glass door with both their names on it closed behind them Draco pointed his wand and wordlessly lowered the blinds all round their office. They fell on each other like starving people, bouncing off the walls and furniture in an attempt to get closer together.

"You little vixen ."

"You looked like you weren't enjoying the meeting. I thought I'd cheer you up. Didn't you like it? It seemed like you liked it."

"I have a suggestion" said Draco seriously "let's stop talking."

"What?"

"It just seems to end in one of us storming off when we do. Let's not talk this time." Hermione thought for a moment and then nodded. Draco grinned. His tie was finally removed and his neck thoroughly kissed. Hermione's hair was out of it's bun and spilling down her back with Draco's fingers nested within. The office was filled with interesting noises and the protesting shouts of Cut-Out Cormac. The vow of silence had a side effect neither advocate had foreseen. Quickly, very quickly, the devouring nature of the encounter changed to something much more tender but retaining all of its intensity.

They had only their bodies to express their feelings and it seemed that their bodies had more courage than their brains and great deal more good sense.

When Hermione moved to unbutton Draco's shirt he gently stopped her, intertwined their fingers and led her out of the office. He continued to hold her hand even when they were in the corridors, there were fewer people around at this time but several people saw them. They crossed the main hall to the Floo where Draco gave his address, still holding her hand tightly, and whisked them both away through the flames.

There was something satisfying about the explosion of one's opponents balls when you knocked them into a pocket point. The only problem Draco could see was that Wizarding Pool wasn't sufficiently loud or destructive. It could do with having a Weasley version, that would definitely have bigger explosions. He could really do with hexing the crap out of something to release some of his anger. Anger was more acceptable than misery and those seemed the only alternatives open to him at the moment. Thank Merlin he had suggested silence, if he hadn't misery would be the only option. Thank Merlin she didn't know exactly how much he'd enjoyed that night. Inside his head he'd been chanting about how amazing it was, how perfectly her body fit to his and how this was, without any shadow of a doubt, the best sex he'd ever had. Draco very much suspected that had he allowed either of them to speak he would have said it all out loud, and worse he would have told her what he'd guessed before but was now certain of: he was in love with her.

Pool was a good compromise. He looked like he was enjoying his night out but some of the time he still had a legitimate reason to look towards the dancefloor. She was still shaking her thing out there but much more erratically. He'd seen her head to the bar a few times and on each occasion there had been a fist of lead in his stomach at the idea that she was going to leave with that Computer Tosser but she seemed more focused on getting impressively pissed. She never usually did that, not even at New Ministry functions where it was practically a prerequisite. When Draco took his next shot that faced the dancefloor, with a satisfying purple explosion of smoke when it was successful, he could see her stumbling onto Amanda. He was torn between letting her make a spectacle of herself, she deserved no less, telling Susan to send her home and going and manfully claiming her from the dancefloor. She would probably hex his bollocks off though. She'd made it painfully clear he had no claim on her.

His decision was made for him with the arrival of The Oiks from the office. Whatever Granger had done he didn't want her losing face. His vain hope that they wouldn't spot her was extinguished when he saw the Muggleborn one taking photos of her with his phone. There was nothing for it, he forfeited his game and pushed out into the dancing crush to get her, sending a casual stinging jinx at The Oik with The Phone. There were just too many people in this bloody place. It took him far too long to even get within shouting distance of her. Just as he was about to reach out and touch her, for the first time since that night there was a loud crack and there, right in front of Hermione, The Weasel appeared. From his position Draco could only see Hermione's face, Weasel had his broad back to him. When she saw her ex her face lit up, as if she'd just been told it was Christmas and Founder's Day at the same time.

"Ron! You came for me?" she shouted jumping into his arms, her eyes closed tight.

"Course" was the erudite observation from Weasley.

Draco stood and scowled. He'd been an idiot to trust Potter and Mini-Weasel that there was nothing between them. Seriously who with any sense broke up with Granger without wanting her back? What happened next astonished him. Hermione began to cry; huge, shoulder heaving sobs came out of her tiny frame and she still didn't open her eyes. The Weasel stroked her hair and then, when the wailing only increased, picked her up bridal style and apparated them away.

Draco stood on the heaving dancefloor as the band played some song about satisfaction thinking how ironic life could be. He'd spent his youth telling Weasel he had nothing of any value and it turned out he had the only thing Draco had ever been denied: Hermione Granger's heart.

A/N: I feel evil for leaving it there but after over 5000 I hope you'll forgive me for the wait between updates. Once again so much thanks to everyone who has put this on alert, favourited it, left a review (I love you most of all), recommended it to others and read it at all. I tried to be a bit more imaginative with my I-can't-write-smut-on-the-bus limitation this chapter I hope it works at all. Thanks again for reading. I really appreciate it!