A/N: Oh my goodness, hello wonderful shippers! This little fic reached 100 followers this weekend! Welcome you lovely newcomers, and thank you all so much for reading this little bit of nonsense that I've penned. I appreciate you all so much. I don't think you realize how much your enthusiastic reviews make my day! However, this is where I start getting really nervous. Let me know what you think, but please be gentle! TheOtterAndTheDragon is my saving grace for making this so much more polished than it was before. Happy reading!

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"There are exactly three things that make a relationship work," Hermione said. She reached for her glass of wine and swirled the contents before taking a sip. She lowered the glass and eyed Malfoy over the rim. "One: common interests."

Malfoy perked up at that, and Hermione watched him straighten his cuff links. "Well, we've got plenty of common interests."

She snorted indelicately. "And what might those be?"

Malfoy leaned back comfortably in his chair. It was unfair how comfortable he seemed in such an upscale place while Hermione felt on edge. Her only saving grace at this point was the malfunction with the confidence potion, but even with that she wasn't sure when the effects would wear off and what would happen if they did. Her gaze was drawn to the light stubble at his chin as she listened to him list off their apparent common interests.

"Well, for starters, we both love to rile each other up," he said, a ghost of a smirk crossing his lips. She snapped her gaze up to meet his as she felt an unexpected shudder dance within her stomach. She fought to keep it from showing, but the sudden depth in Malfoy's eyes led her to believe that he'd somehow picked up on it. "Secondly, we're both ridiculously intelligent; we enjoy arithmancy and ancient runes, and we've both considered academic careers in research but found it too mundane to actually hold our interests for long."

Hermione tipped her head to the side and studied Malfoy. Surely, he couldn't have picked that all up from their five-minute date during the speed dating event.

Malfoy waved her away. "I might have asked around the office after you. Potter isn't always the easiest to get details out of, but he's got a quick temper, and I'd rather talk to him than Weaselbee."

"So, you're trying to convince me that you've talked to Harry Potter, your sworn nemesis for nearly seven years, about me?" she scoffed into her drink. "I'm sorry to tell you, Malfoy, but I just don't buy it."

The waiter chose that opportunity to bring their entrees to the table. Per Hermione's expectations at the lavish atmosphere, her steak was cooked to perfection and everything looked delicious. She took a moment to lay her napkin across her lap. Without waiting for a response from Malfoy, she tucked into her meal, delicately cutting a bite of steak and popping it into her mouth. She swallowed a moan as the flavours spread across her tongue.

When she'd finished chewing and swallowing her bite, she glanced up across the table. Malfoy was staring at her, his attention rapt as she carefully cut another bite. She shivered once more at the depth in his eyes and crossed her legs discreetly when his tongue flitted out and wet his lips. She felt colour rise to her cheeks, and she ducked her head to take a sip of her wine.

If she was going to make it through this dinner, she would need as much of the liquid courage as she could get, especially if he was going to keep staring at her like she was his main course.

After a few moments of brief silence, during which Malfoy had begun eating, he interrupted her racing thoughts. "So, Granger, you said there were three reasons this wasn't going to work. I've already ruled out one of them. What are the other two, so I can shoot them down, too?"

Hermione sighed inwardly and set her fork and knife down on either side of her plate. "Reason number two: relationships need stability. I don't think you can offer that with your notorious bachelor lifestyle."

Draco nodded at Hermione's statement. "I assumed that would be one of them. You've been reading the tabloids, haven't you?" He smirked at her silence. "As one might expect, those don't always report one hundred percent of the truth, do they? Or do you expect me to believe that you're actually using your campaign for house elf rights to run an underground clothing line in the basement of Harry's home?"

She gasped in shock. "They actually said that?"

Draco nodded grimly at her. "So you understand why I have such a hard time reading anything in those magazines, let alone believing anything they've published. They survive on sensationalism." He raised a brow at her. "I would have expected someone as intelligent as you to understand that."

At that, Hermione felt properly chastised. She knew that it was pretty pathetic to lap up the dribble that those magazines had published, but she'd also been rightly curious of the enigmatic wizard before her. After seeing the way he'd protected his mother at the battle of Hogwarts, she wanted to know what drove the blond and how he was living his life now that he was no longer under the thumb of the world's darkest wizard. Who could blame her for reading the articles when the tabloids were the only ones who dared to write about the "disgraced former Death Eaters," as they'd been aptly nicknamed?

At her silence, he continued. "If you took the time to talk to me to sate your curiosity, you would know that I've been working on rebranding the Malfoy family name. I don't wish to be associated with my father anymore, so I disbanded the original family business." He took a sip of his wine, and Hermione studied him as he savoured it. "Instead, we've gone into real estate. Buying and remodelling dilapidated buildings. Then, we auction them off to the highest bidder or donate them for rehabilitation of those displaced by the war."

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. She couldn't quite make the connection between the snobby, stuck up child of their youth and the polished, well-spoken man that sat before her. The fact that he was discussing his business—what was essentially a charity, if she thought about it—with her further rendered her speechless.

After a moment, she found her words. "That's—very noble of you. You did, however, say 'we'. Who is in this business with you?"

Draco smiled slightly at her and motioned their waiter over. At some point in their conversation, she'd drained her glass of wine. He waited until the waiter had refilled her glass before he continued. "The business consists of Theodore, Blaise, Pansy, Greg, and myself. Frankly, not many of your lot would accept former Death Eaters as business partners, so we had to band together. It only made sense to utilize the connections we'd already made."

She grimaced at the subtle jab in his comment. Still, she was curious about his motivations for starting the business. "I guess I just wonder at the authenticity of your motivations for creating this business."

Across from her, Draco's eyes hardened. If she hadn't known him for so long and been the recipient of glares just like that for so long, she would have missed it. Instead, she felt the ghost of old emotional wounds rear their ugly heads at his look. However, with a quick intake of breath, during which Hermione suspected he mentally counted to five, the look passed. In its place was a weary frustration that he tried to hide by pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips.

"Call it atonement or call it bribery, whatever helps you feel better. We're doing this because we all know, on some level or another, that we have committed wrongs that only we can right. If creating a business that gives back is going to help us right those wrongs even a little bit, it's the least we could do." Draco looked up at her and his earnest expression gave her pause.

Despite everything she knew about the Malfoy heir, he seemed to really mean and believe what he was saying. Her heart bottomed out a bit, and she bit her lip to keep from blurting something stupid out.

"Besides," he said, drawing her attention back to him. "I could say the same of you, miss 'Brightest Witch of Our Age' who has somehow fallen off the radar as of late."

She laughed. "Well, you would too if your significant other embarrassed you in front of the whole wizarding world. I needed a break."

He had the grace to look a little embarrassed and smiled back at her. "Yeah, I did see about that. He's a bloody tosser." He looked up at her from beneath his lashes, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at the sincerity in them. "He never was good enough for you, you know?"

"That's where you're wrong." She shook her head. "I'm not too good for anyone. I'm just me." She sighed. "We just didn't fit together. We both wanted different things. He was trying to talk me out of my dreams, wanted me to continue on the mindlessly driven path toward being the youngest Minister of Magic, and I realized that it just wasn't what I wanted anymore."

She fell silent for a moment. No, she and Ron had never been perfect. They'd fought a lot and had honestly spent more time nit-picking each other than loving each other. They were better off as friends, but that didn't mean that she didn't still hurt after everything Ron had hurled at her when he'd stopped by drunk after their breakup. He didn't mean it, she knew, but for whatever reason, Draco's comment stuck in her side like a thorn. Ron had said the same thing, that he'd never been good enough for her.

She took a fortifying breath and locked eyes with Malfoy. "I don't do being vulnerable well, and especially not so with you, so bear with me." She toyed with the napkin. "Ron was content to settle. He wanted to ride my coattails as I kept going, and I think that's a lot of the reason we didn't work. He didn't have ambition. He wanted a life of Quidditch on the weekends and uninhibited sex as soon as I walked in the door from work." She laughed at Malfoy's shock. "Don't get me wrong, the sex was fantas—"

"Eugh, Granger, that's more than enough detail." Malfoy shuddered across from her, and her laughter intensified.

"Right. Anyway, he was just content to let me do all the heavy lifting, and when I decided I didn't want to anymore, things just fell apart. The last anniversary dinner—when we ended up all over the Prophet—was the last straw. I'd had enough. I'd been talking about taking a position at Hogwarts should one ever open, and he kept pushing me to stay with the Ministry work. I realized then that it wasn't ever going to work. That day, McGonagall owled to ask if I'd take the Charms position since Flitwick is retiring this year. I'd intended to tell him at dinner, but I just had enough."

"So you ended it instead?" Malfoy guessed.

She nodded. "So I ended it instead. And what ended up on the cover of the Prophet the next day was the end of the disastrous relationship and his coping mechanism of one of the witches from the Leaky."

To her surprise, Malfoy nodded in sympathy. "So, your relationship fell apart because you weren't content with being his sugar momma anymore. Respectable, Granger."

Despite her intentions, Hermione felt herself laughing in shock at his statement. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she dabbed at them with her napkin, trying to avoid the devilish smirk that Draco shot her across the table. She matched it with one of her own in retaliation. "Well, if it helps, it wasn't just that he was trying to live off all of my money. I haven't had a decent shag in years."

Malfoy's expression hardened, and Hermione knew that she was playing with fire. "Is that an invitation, Granger?" he ground out.

She shrugged at him innocently. "You started this last night, Malfoy. If you can't keep up, then I'd be more than happy to find another willing participant. As you so aptly pointed out, I look rather good in this dress."

Draco cleared his throat and took a sip of his water. "There will be no need to find any other willing participants. I think you'll find that I'm up to the task." He changed the subject before she could respond. "So, I'm talking to Hogwarts' newest Charms professor. How interesting," he mused. "I suppose now would be the perfect time to tell you that I'll be working on restoring and revamping Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts this fall, then?"

Hermione's laughter ground to a sudden halt as she stared at Draco in disbelief. "Hagrid. As in Rubeus Hagrid, the man you tormented when you were in Hogwarts and whose pet you had your father sentence to death?"

He looked down at his plate, colour blooming in his cheeks for the first time that evening. In a low voice, he answered, "I'm not proud of how much of a git I was when I was in Hogwarts. I'm trying to make up for it the best way that I know how. Starting with Hagrid."

Against her better judgement, Hermione reached across the table and laid her hand over the top of his. His hands were soft, though she thought it shouldn't surprise her since he'd always taken painstaking care of his appearance. She looked up at him briefly and saw that he'd locked his gaze on their hands, breathing in shallowly. She couldn't make out the expression he wore as she squeezed once and released his hand. "It's a start, and I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Hagrid has a big heart."

"Right." He cleared his throat, and the brief glimpse into this Draco was banished as his wall went right back up. "So, before we got side-tracked, you told me there were three reasons this wouldn't work. I've heard one and two. What's number three?"

Hermione shook herself from her preoccupation with their brief physical interaction. "Number three is respect. You have to be able to respect me, and let's be honest; you've never respected me."

Malfoy's lips hardened into a thin line. "Now, I understand that I was a right arse as a kid, so I expect that for the way I treated you then. But I've treated you with nothing but respect since we've been together tonight."

Hermione grimaced at his tone of voice. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was offended. "You have been remarkably well behaved tonight, but what's one night compared to seven years?"

Across from her, Draco closed his eyes and hissed an exhale through his teeth. When he opened them, she could have sworn she saw regret and something else flicker through the grey depths before it was chased away.

Hermione started when Malfoy shoved his chair backward and stood. He buttoned his suit jacket and extended a hand toward her. "Well, if this is potentially the only date that I'll ever get with you, you may as well dance with me. I promise I won't bite; I'm not the ferret I once was." He shot her a wink.

Hermione warred with herself as she stared at his hand. Though the rational side of her knew how bad he was for her, knew that she should turn his hand down and go home, the butterflies in her stomach pleaded with her to just take a chance.

Despite her better judgement, she took his hand. He led her a short way from the table and placed his other hand gently on the swell of her waist. She expected him to lead her in some complicated dance that he'd learned in his pureblood upbringing, but he swayed back and forth with her in a manner remarkably similar to the way she had danced with Viktor at the Yule Ball. Ever the gentleman, his hands stayed appropriately on her waist and in her hand.

She took a few moments to collect her thoughts before she spoke. She'd been defensive all night, expecting the other shoe to drop and the Draco she'd known at Hogwarts to emerge and tease her. Instead, he'd been honest and kind for most of the evening. She cringed inwardly when she realized that she was the one acting crassly when he'd been nothing but well-behaved all night.

She glanced up and found grey eyes peering at her. She froze momentarily, causing both of them to stumble in the dance. She could tell that Draco wanted to say something to tease her, but he bit it back. They rearrange themselves and Hermione slipped her hand from Draco's to twine around his neck, inadvertently closing some of the gap between them as they swayed.

"I have a question," Draco blurted suddenly as they swayed.

She waited a moment before she nodded. She'd been drilling him all evening; it was only fair that he got his chance.

"What do you want out of life? In a partner? You already said that you want someone who isn't going to force you to stay in a job you hate. But what else do you want?" Draco murmured.

Hermione was taken aback. She didn't think she'd ever been asked what she wanted in a relationship. Sure, she had some vague conversations with Ron about eventual marriages, but he'd never really asked her what she wanted in a partner. Both of them had assumed that the other was completely content with each other and had never stopped to ask.

"Well, that's a difficult question," she mused. "I've honestly never given it too much thought. After Ron, I didn't want to get my hopes up about a relationship. I still don't," she added, having felt the minute tightening of Draco's hands on her waist. "I suppose I want to be with someone who brings out the best in me, which is super vague and not helpful."

She thought for a moment, and Malfoy allowed her the time to gather her thoughts. "I want to be with someone who challenges me, both intellectually and when I'm being stubborn, because I can be really stubborn."

Malfoy scoffed. "Oh, really? Hermione Granger, stubborn? Could have fooled me."

She swatted him lightly on the chest. "Obviously, I want to be with someone who takes the time to learn what I like. The gifts I like to receive, the food that I like on a bad day, what I like in bed—all that stuff. Ron was sweet, but he kind of existed on autopilot most of the time we were together. I want someone who I can be passionate with. It sounds cliché, but my mother always told me to find someone who stokes the flames of your passion. I want someone who sees that and isn't afraid to burn with me."

Draco nodded. "So, you want to be lovers and equals. You want someone who sees your passion and doesn't run from it."

She nodded, a bit at a loss for words at how easily he'd accepted her point. Her hand tightened on the back of his neck with her next confession, "I'm so tired of everyone treating me like I'm glass. I'm tired of vanilla. I want to burn, Draco."

A shudder ran through Draco, and he closed his eyes. "Honestly, Weasley was completely mental to let you go." At some point, Hermione's hand had crept back down Draco's chest and into his hand, though their bodies remained close. He quickly spun her out and back into his chest.

"What do you mean?" she asked, breathless from the spin.

He met her eyes. "Do you have any idea how many of the boys at Hogwarts were absolutely enamoured with you? Probably not, you always had your nose in a book. And now, you're absolutely beautiful and confident. You know what you want, and you seem like you're not afraid to go and get it."

Hermione shook her head. "See, I am though. Afraid to go for what I want. I had to wait until Ron made a complete mess of things before I admitted that I wasn't happy in the relationship. I haven't dated anyone seriously since then. I'm mostly just a mess of strong opinions and ink smears."

"I see more than that. Those boys that were enamoured with you in school? I was one of them. I didn't realize it until the Yule Ball, but I wanted to date you. I wanted you to know the me that wasn't constantly sneering at everything, but I couldn't because I still believed in that nonsense that my parents believed. Even if I hadn't, I would have put you in danger."

Hermione was shocked into silence at his confession. He pressed his advantage.

"You wanted to know why I asked you on a date tonight. I asked you because I've wanted to know you since we were children, and I was too selfish to stay away from you. So, I went out on a limb and came to your speed dating event; I muddled my way through three other dates, and finally mustered up the courage to at least rile you into coming out with me. If it took you thinking I was propositioning you, then that's what I was going to do. I was banking on the fact that you don't back away from a challenge."

Hermione's mind reeled. If what he was saying was true, then he came to the event with the express purpose of taking her on a date. Sure, he hadn't been exactly honest about it, but she hadn't given him much of a chance all evening to really romance her. She'd been all business and over-the-top sexual lioness tempting him all evening. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She hadn't even realized they'd stopped dancing until he tilted her chin upward.

"Don't. I wasn't honest with you, so I probably deserved a lot of it." He quirked a brow at her. "Although, I'll tell you the truth; you're incredibly sexy when you're ruthlessly pursuing what you want. I'll gladly give you tonight and go, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see where this went."

She pulled her lip between her teeth to stop the groan of embarrassment from escaping. Suddenly, Draco's fingers left her chin and freed the lip from her teeth. He resumed the dance, this time impossibly close, and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You've really got to stop doing that with your lip. You have no idea what it does to me." When he leaned away, his eyes flashed pewter, and Hermione felt her pulse quicken in response.

Would it be such a bad idea to see what would happen between the two of them? He was smart and devilishly handsome. He ran a charity, for Merlin's sake, and he was willing to leave it at a one-night stand if she told him that's all she wanted.

They continued dancing and spinning around each other, the physical manifestation of the thoughts circling round and round in Hermione's head. The only argument her mind seemed capable of making was but it's Malfoy. Suddenly, it seemed less and less like a bad idea and more and more appealing.

As the song slowed to an end, Draco spun her out once more. As she spun back into him, she realized that she'd slowly sunk into the dance, no longer apprehensive of his duality. On the final note of the song, Draco dipped her, and they stared into each other's eyes panting. Time seemed to suspend around her. Heat flashed in his eyes as he whispered to her, "Let me be the one to touch your fire. Let me burn with you."

In one fluid motion, Draco pulled her upright and into his chest, and Hermione crashed her lips into his. It was a hungry kiss, filled with the sexual tension that had been building between them as they flirted and traded innuendos all evening. They both got lost in the kiss, her hands fisting in his suit jacket, one of his on her waist and the other in her hair. It was only the clearing of their waiter's throat that broke them apart. He stood to the side while they both rearranged their clothes. Draco promptly paid the check, and they rushed out into the chilly night air.

They'd barely made it ten feet out the doorway when Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back into a searing kiss that made her head spin. Breaking the kiss for air, he breathlessly asked, "What now?" as he trailed kisses across her jawline.

Time suspended once more, and she found herself making a decision when he pulled back to look at her. "You're coming home with me."