A/N: JKR's delightful characters. I, unfortunately, own nothing.
Blaise Zabini couldn't help but stare. He was sure this was some kind of sick nightmare. There was no way in hell Hermione Granger, that stupid mudblood bint, was at this board meeting. There was just no fucking–
"Hello Zabini."
And that's when Blaise Zabini, the most suave charming wizard of Hermione's graduating class save Draco of course, was lost for words.
"Gr… Granger?"
For a second she was baffled by his deer-in-headlights stance. There was no way in Azkaban Zabini was speechless. She'd known the boy since their first unfortunate meeting on the Hogwarts Express. Like Malfoy, he'd chosen that particular moment to verbalize his opinion of preacquired revulsion to her and her kind. He, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy had sent her running into the lanky freckle-spattered arms of Ron Weasley.
Zabini was a downright git, but to his defense, much politer than his fellow Slytherins. He didn't take it upon himself or go out of his way to insult her very existence like Malfoy. But she disliked him for his silent hatred just the same. And those few moments of contemplation and nostalgia, he morphed back into the Zabini she knew.
"Why are you here?"
His words bit with spite.
"For the exact same reason you are, dear Blaise."
Her saccharine sweet voice put Blaise on edge. As soon as she had confidently strode towards him, hips swaying in her professional black pumps, Blaise knew he would do everything in his power to push her to her limits, but even he knew not to mess with Hermione Granger. She was a force to be reckoned with.
An insufferable mudblood force he did not have the time, space, or effort to bother with.
"Does Draco know that you're here?"
She smiled up at the handsome Italian. Her daring eyes foretold Zabini he would not enjoy or appreciate her answer.
"He invited me."
On impulse, Zabini grabbed Hermione's petite wrists and shoved her lithe frame against the wall. She winced under the forced contact of cool skin to solid wall and a heated body. She was terrified; the tall menacing Blaise standing over her barely five foot three. His unblemished and striking face now bore a snarl and she could feel her own blood boiling.
Hermione fingered at her wand.
"You hear me now, Mudblood," Blaise spat into her curls, "You may no longer be that ugly know-it-all from Hogwarts, but you will irrevocably be nothing but dirt. Filth. Your kind remains a plague to the Wizarding world. The war may have gotten rid of a sociopath, but opinions don't change over night, and don't you ever forget that."
Hermione cringed under his weight, his words pulsating at her core. Years after the war she would have thought things, opinions had changed, and they were, but too slowly for her liking. Whatever perfect utopia she romanticized of the wizarding world following the war had skewed her logical reality.
And Hermione Granger always relied on logic.
She remembered how Thorfinn Rowle's wife attacked her, the ever naïve Granger, in Diagon Alley. The Death Eater's wife abhorred her, for so many reasons besides the underlying fact she was a muggleborn. Augusta Rowle shrieked words of repugnance for Hermione, throwing Dark Magic spells in her direction for the Avada Hermione used to kill her husband during the Battle of Hogwarts. The woman even grabbed Hermione's hair and bit her neck before some altruistic passersby came to her rescue.
The situation had been a slap in the face. An uninvited and disturbing event that caused Hermione to realize things weren't just going to change themselves so soon. It was that particular incident that sent Hermione back to her apartment, where she wallowed in self-pity and defeatism for days. She didn't allow anyone to visit, nor allow anyone to Floo. She sent back all owls unread and refused to be interviewed by a very unremitting relentless Rita Skeeter.
After days of pondering and reflection, Hermione left her job at Flourish and Botts to apply for a position at the ministry. That was her course of action. She couldn't just sit back and watch changes gradually transpire; she would be the one to make sure those changes happened.
After all, she was Hermione Fucking Granger, brains of the Golden Trio.
She trembled as Blaise slowly backed away from her, her vine wood and dragon heartstring wand tip touching his groin. Blaise knew better than to whip out his own wand and duel her; he knew better than to risk losing his most prized asset. When he stopped backing up, Hermione's wand pressed sharply against his manhood. He groaned and stumbled back.
It seemed Hermione's Gryffindor courage had returned.
"Now if you know what's best for you, Zabini, I suggest you leave your bigotry anywhere but in my presence."
Zabini sneered again but winced and grumbled back an apology when Hermione's wand traced his crotch. He regained his composure as two coworkers passed them. As soon as they left, his face contorted back into one of pure loathing.
"Whatever you want, Granger. This doesn't change anything."
Before Hermione could respond, an aggravated Blaise turned the corner and left her gawking.
What a fantastic way to start a day.
"And then she threatened me. A mudblood threatening me! The insanity! You should have seen her, Draco, she looked crazed. And I did nothing of the sort to attack her anyway; she just pounced on me."
Draco's eyes looked vacant and bored. He didn't need another reason to think of Granger. He already saw her everywhere. Her intoxicating scent following him everywhere. He bloody hated her with his every fiber.
"If I'd known any better I'd say the mudblood bitch has a disgusting sort of crush on me."
He was used to Blaise's nonsensical ranting since the end of the war for it took every ounce of self-restraint not to punch his best friend in the jaw.
"Because she has so much reason to have a crush on you, Blaise?"
"You and your sharp tongue."
Blaise playfully punched his best friend's shoulder to which Draco gave a small smile.
"Why is she here anyway? Neither of us want the bitch working at Malfoy Industries."
"We may not want her, but we sure as hell need her. Name one thing you and I know about muggles?"
Blaise thought pensively for a moment.
"They don't have wands?"
Draco merely raised his eyebrows and Blaise chuckled.
"Alright, point made I suppose. Couldn't you have hired someone else though, anyone but her, mate."
Draco considered this for a moment. Why Granger? Well, she could get things done, and punctually too. She was dedicated. Granger loved muggles too, didn't she?
"She may be the most infuriating and hideously pathetic excuse for a mudblood I've ever encountered, but she's the best, Blaise. And Malfoys always get the best."
Hermione sat on the leather couch outside Draco's office. He was fifteen minutes late, and though she was no pedant, punctuality in a work place was key. She uncrossed and crossed her legs again, rubbing her wrists from Blaise's confrontation minutes earlier.
"When did you say I could go in?"
Hermione was getting impatient and the beautiful, but unqualified, leggy blonde that just so happened to be Malfoy's secretary was not helping one bit. The woman – no, girl – at the desk snapped her gum in Hermione's direction.
"He said he'd be done in a bit."
"Could you buzz him again for me?"
The blonde just glared as if to say you are a waste of space and buzzed Malfoy again. She spoke in hushed tones through the telephone at her desk. The telephone was one of many technological advances Malfoy Industries proudly utilized. There were televisions all over the lobby and small exhibitions of many muggle technologies on display.
She was in awe at how much Malfoy strived for excellence in his mutli-billion galleon company. There were moving pictures on each and every wall showing Malfoy shaking hands with muggle contacts from numerous countries, and the strangest part was, it looked so very natural. He didn't look the least bit distressed while casually resting his hand on a muggle shoulder let alone hugging the CEO of a muggle cell phone company.
It was irking to say that Malfoy may have even enjoyed the presence of these muggles. No, there was no way in hell.
"You can go in now."
Hermione rubbed her temples. Malfoy was the most vexing creature she'd ever met. Opening the door to his office, she was sure all her recent migraines were attributed to him.
"Granger, so kind of you to join me!"
His sarcastic enthusiasm was not helping.
"Right. When's the board meeting, then?"
"Postponed."
Hermione's eyes widened, and he inhaled the sight, enjoying her confusion and clear frustration.
"Well clearly Malfoy, I have no reason to be here."
Draco stood up quickly as she turned to leave.
"Granger, I was going to take you on a tour. Perhaps introduce you to some investors in my company?"
She grimaced but turned back around and forced a smile.
"I'm not interested in meeting your investors, Malfoy."
He leered at her, and moved in. She found him standing in front of her. She pulled at the collar of her suit; she was suffocating again. Since when did she have so many medical problems? Perhaps a trip to Mungo's would serve her well after all.
"But you'll be spending so much time with them, Granger."
His hot breath was near her ear. Her stomach constricted, her breathing ragged. She stepped away from him, her heart beating too rapidly for her liking. His lips curled into a smirk and he pressed her figure against the wall. She turned her head away from him; she didn't want Malfoy to see the flush that crept up her neck. His sinewy body molded against her, but instead of wincing, a moan of pleasure escaped her parted lips.
"Do you like that, mudblood?"
She couldn't help the gasp when he pinched her bum.
"Do you enjoy being touched by purebloods?"
His words seeped with distate and Hermione knew she should pull out her wand and hex him right there. Instead, she just let herself go limp and tried to elude the warmth growing between her thighs.
"You're so beautiful, Hermione."
Draco was inebriated by her sheer proximity to him. She was so fucking there; and he hated her for making him this way. He slipped his hand under her shirt and felt her smooth skin. He skimmed his fingers across her sides and blew into her ear. He felt her shudder. He didn't even need to shag her to feel this way, the fact she was so close to him brought a feeling of euphoria.
"Do you like it when Blaise and I touch you like this?"
Again, Hermione knew she shouldn't respond in anyway but her body seemed to have different ideas. A whimper was all Draco heard; she could almost feel the haughty smile growing.
"Well you know what, Granger."
She caught her breath in erotic anticipation.
"I fucking hate you. I hate everything about you. You disgust me."
He pushed her to the side and made his way to the door. He opened it and smirked at her, clearly relishing his moments with the blushing and aroused Hermione. She scowled darkly and spoke up.
"Well good thing I hate you too Draco. You make me wonder why the Ministry even puts up with your shit. The fact the Malfoys still exist is a blot on the Wizarding world. A mar that won't erase no matter how hard you try to accost muggles and pathetic mudbloods like me. You'll never change your ways, Malfoy. And for that alone, I hate you."
His grey eyes darkened but she Apparated from his office before he could even retort. He slammed the door shut and ran his fingers through his hair. He always fucked things up; he was always a capricious bastard.
No, no matter. I don't need her. Blaise was right; she's just another sordid mudblood.
Draco, too engrossed in his animosity, didn't even notice that he'd winced at his own spiteful words.
Hermione fell prostate into her bed, not even bothering to take off her business suit. She was irritated, angry, confused, and hurt. She turned over, an internal war raging inside of her. Hermione made a mental note to give the suit pants to the Salvos. There was no way she ever wanted to see the suit that Draco had, well excited her in, anywhere near her.
She pulled the pant legs off, one at a time, and then unbuttoned the suit jacket slowly. She stood before her full length mirror when it dropped. As she grazed her sides with her fingertips from top to bottom, she imagined Draco. She closed her eyes and remembered his lean sinewy muscles, his body pressed against hers.
She touched her chest, hoping the empty feeling that had overcome her would end. She begged her body; please. But they were just malevolent attempts, futile attempts. She closed her eyes again and remembered his whispers.
"You're so beautiful, Hermione."
She shivered when he'd said her name for it sounded so pure. She imagined it was as foreign to her tongue as it was to her ear. He had never said her name like that before, he had never said her name in all her years of knowing him.
Most of his character was undeterred from his Slytherin Prince days. He was still intolerable and arrogant, purposely pressing her buttons because he enjoyed her angered reactions. But she knew the war had changed him. She saw it in the way he presented himself, his gait. He wasn't the coward she remembered. Yes, she still hated him. Yes, he confused her.
Yes, no; she didn't know anything anymore.
Hermione opened her eyes and leered at the laughable figure emulating before her. She wanted to crawl into bed and hug herself. Draco riled her up with indignation. She wish it would just stop, he would just stop. She gave into her body's pleas and curled the covers around her shaking body. Tears welled up and droplets fell onto the beige quilt, her cries muffled by the white pillows. Eventually her bleary tired eyes found a peaceful quiet slumber.
"Hermione Jean Granger?"
Hermione's eyes fluttered open to greet the dauntingly handsome man before her.
"Yes?"
The tall man produced his hand and shook mine firmly. A simper formed on his thin lips.
"I'm not sure if you remember me. You probably wouldn't anyway."
She arched an eyebrow.
"No, I'm sorry I don't."
"Theodore Nott."
Her eyes lit up with recognition.
"Of course! You were in my Arithmancy class. I was always trying to beat you and Draco out of taking first place in class."
Her voice strained as she said Draco's name offhandedly. Their surroundings became awkward and pregnantly silent. Unsure of what to do, Hermione invited Theo to sit down.
"Draco said you sent back his owls," he drawled as he closed the door behind her.
Hermione guffawed.
"I wonder what made him think that," she quipped.
He stroked his chin.
"I suppose your right, Ms. Granger."
"Hermione, please."
Theo sat and nodded as she began rifling through her cabinets looking for some files. She procured her manila file and placed it on the desk.
"Well, Gr… Hermione. Draco asked me to come and convince you to return to Malfoy Industries and remain his muggle relations manager."
The rest of his words were unintelligible. She nodded while flipping through the file. He looked at her with a pained smile.
"I'm so sorry, Nott. You were saying?"
He cleared his throat and looked at her squarely.
"You know as well as I do that if Draco did something to upset you, there's no way he'd apologize. He thinks apologizing or anything that shows emotion beneath him."
She laughed hollowly.
"What are you, his wizards relations director or something?"
He paused for a second and frowned.
"Yes, Ms. Granger, I am."
"Well, Theo. You can tell Malfoy that his request was heard and rejected."
He blushed at Hermione's use of his first name.
"No problem Hermione. Draco said you'd say something like that. He told me to ask – well, beg – you to rejoin."
Somewhere inside of Hermione wanted to scream. She was confused, why did she feel as though she should accept. To get close to Malfoy and help him change? No, that couldn't be it. She was probably just being her magnanimous self.
"The answer is final."
She stood up from her seat and shook hands with Theo again before he took leave. He'd tried unsuccessfully to change her mind. She repeated to an exasperated Nott that she would never work for Draco again. He finally conceded and left sourly. Parvati entered soon after Theo's departure.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or was that Theodore Nott?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, her quill viciously scratching against the scroll in front of her.
"The very same."
"My word," Parvati replied breathily, "He is one juicy piece of Slytherin meat."
Hermione paused from her work, and looked up at her coworker, amused.
"I thought you were a vegetarian?"
Parvati glared.
"Why was Nott here, anyway?"
"Here as Malfoy's henchman," Hermione answered with a scowl.
"Oh, I doubt that. Theo's always been a nice guy, perhaps a bit quiet, but always kind."
"Well he can't be all that wonderful if he works for Malfoy."
The Patel sister leaned against the doorframe.
"Sometimes I think you're too hard on Malfoy's associates."
Hermione glowered at Parvati who just shrugged.
"You forget we went to school with the madman. He tried to kill Dumbledore!"
"But didn't! You forget the key word, Hermione. You know how much he's lost, how much he's changed. He doesn't have either of his parents–,"
"I refuse to sympathize, Parvati. Both Malfoy's parents are very much alive."
"Hermione!" Parvati accused, "His mother is in a coma at Mungo's and his father is in Azkaban. I hardly call that living."
The brunette witch shrugged in response.
"How can you be so cold? You were the one who always defended him!"
"Well," Hermione quarreled, "Perhaps he hasn't changed at all. Perhaps he's the same self-absorbed git we knew at Hogwarts."
Parvati looked as though she was about to explode.
"I'm going to leave now Hermione, before we both say things we don't mean."
"Perhaps you should," Hermione added quietly.
Parvati sighed. She tried to catch Hermione's wandering eyes but gave up and left.
Hermione inhaled deeply.
What are you doing to me Malfoy?
Thanks for the reviews, you guys kept me writing! But this story has had over 400 hits already - and only 4 reviews! For those of you who read and didn't review, please comment on what you think and there will surely be more to come. Severe critique is most welcome!