Astoria floo called a few hours later asking to pop by and chat. Hermione accepted - but told her friend to wait twenty minutes so she could shower quickly. Smelling like Malfoy would certainly raise suspicions. And, anyway, having his shampoo on her was driving her crazy. The knot just below her belly button was tightening, heat rising between her thighs. She told herself it was just that she smelled like a man - and it had been a while since she'd been with anyone.
"Hey!" Hermione called as she heard Astoria arrive. "In the kitchen."
Astoria came over, handing a bottle of rosé to Hermione. "Hey! I have quite the story to tell you. First of all, my date. It was.. Ooh, my god. The guy was smokin', like really hot. He's actually a professional quidditch player. Anyway, he picked me up and took me to this lovely Italian restaurant…"
As Astoria recounted her evening and subsequent good night, Hermione poured her a glass of rosé. She decided not to drink nay herself, remembering her vomit-fest from the night before.
"Basically, you had the best night of your life?" Hermione summed up.
"Exactly! Or, at the very least, the best sex of my life. Now, your turn - spill. Harry and I were there for a while, so I know you got slammed." Astoria gave her glass of water a knowing look.
"Alright, alright. I did get quite intoxicated… I don't hold liquor that well. And I got mad at Ron's new girlfriend. She is, like, so sweet it makes me want to slap her really hard. I don't think she's lived a day in her life. Certainly not Ron's type. Or, so I thought. But my night didn't have much else. Really."
Astoria still looked doubtful but Hermione managed to get her off the topic by asking if she was going out with the guy again.
"I hope so… only if you can get this damn contract annulled! I swear, two weeks from now…" Astoria shook her head.
Hermone took the worried witch's hand in her own. "Astoria, I swear on my life, I will do absolutely everything to get you out of this contract. You deserve to be happy. Malfoy, too."
"Thank you. Hermione, really, what would I do without you?"
"Marry the git, probably. And go without Hot-Sex-Man."
"God, that would suck. Don't get me wrong - Dracpo's good in bed, according to all the girls he's been with. Never me, ew no. I told you, he's like my brother." Astoria quickly reassured, misunderstanding Hermione's surprise and slight nausea at how many girls that sentence implied. "Speaking of, he still won't tell who was with him last night. When I got back, her and all evidence of her was gone. I don't understand - we usually only go out with people we trust will not share because of the 'engagement' and all… Who could it be that is so secretive?"
"I dunno," Hermione mumbled, racking her brain for a new topic. "Hey - I read the book you gave me for my promotion. Very good - so interesting."
"Wasn't it? I thought you'd enjoy it. Actually, I found a second hand, wizarding book store." Astoria claimed.
"Really? I have been searching for a decent one for years!" the brunette replied, sitting up straighter.
"Do you want to go? It's beautiful."
Hermione spent the rest of her weekend reading the books she got at the bookstore Astoria had shown her and reviewing her new cases. Davis had assigned her six cases to lead over the next few weeks, as well as gave her a list of suspects to prepare to convict for a number of foul crimes. Hermione had carefully examined each file and assigned them to her five employees. She gave them a list of information she wanted on each suspect on her desk at the end of day Monday. She had also given each case to two people, asking them to find whatever evidence they could and any other information they might be able to use on the cases.
As a result, the witch found she had worryingly little to do. Besides waiting for their information, she couldn't do much. Instead she decided to prepare for her first case; the Malfoy-Greengrass one. Afterall, it was her most important. Not that she should have any personal attachments to her clients.
When Hermione entered her office Monday morning, she found her memo box overflowing, along with a stack of new parchment on her desk. Sighing, she began to read through all the information. She had been given a seventh case, some of the suspects had been ruled out for a number of reasons, and one case had been closed and deemed as a fluke accident. On top of all that, Janice (the secretary) had informed her that she was to meet with each of her clients in the next few days, giving her a list of names and addresses to contact. Sighing, she began writing an endless stream of letters trying to coordinate meetings.
Hermione didn't even know lunch had passed until a knock sounded on her door and her first client entered, an elderly man whose wife had been beaten and tortured over the whereabouts of her squib sister. Hermione welcomed the man, offering him tea and her well wishes. Getting information out of him turned out to be completely useless. The wizard had horrible memory and was so distraught over the state of his wife that he couldn't even hear her name without bursting into tears
Following that disaster, Hermione met with her team to collect information and give them more assignments. After making sure that the old man's cases would be handled under the impression that the last person to see her before the incident was of no use, she hurried to yet another meeting - this one with Christina and her other coworkers, reviewing the cases and other details.
The brunette witch had quickly discovered that she was going to spend the majority of her days in meetings. When she wasn't in meetings, she was compiling stacks upon stacks of evidence into something slightly usable in an actual case. Wednesday arrived before Hermione could blink. She was running late from staying up the night before attempting to read through the forty page report one of her employees had given her on a suspect. This meant that she had barely had time to review her memos and answer any urgent ones before her first meeting of the day, which turned out to be with an incredibly snooty woman who insisted that she would only have Davis on her case. Hermione spent almost an hour arguing with her, trying to get any sort of statement from the lady, before eventually being forced to wave her off so she could have her next meeting.
"Astoria, Malfoy - come on in. Great seeing you." She said, pouring them tea and waving them to their seats.
"Nice office," Astoria said, examining the bursting bookshelf.
"That lady seemed to be in a good mood," Mlafoy smirked, sitting down.
"Brilliant, really." the brunette couldn't help but to roll her eyes. "She refuses to acknowledge my role, insisting that only Davis is qualified enough to represent her in court, despite her case being very minor and simple. Anyway, that's beside the point - "
"Not really, since you look like the living dead." Malfoy interrupted, motioning to her face. "Not to be rude -
"Too late, Malfoy -"
"You are pale and your under-eyes so dark you might as well have not slept in a week. Been rough being high and mighty?"
"You could say that. I spend most of the day yelling at my direct reports or being yelled at by clients, and having to do the actual work at home." Hermione shuffled through a drawer for the pair's file. "Your case has ended up being one of my easiest, simply because you two are actually pleasant"
"Hermione Granger thinks I'm pleasant? Has hell frozen over?" Malfoy asked, mock shocked. Both women rolled their eyes.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Astoria jumped in. "We'll be as quick as we can. I was going to invite you to dinner Saturday, but if you're too tired, we won't be insulted.
"Nonsense. I'd love to join you for dinner. My place, though. You two have hosted me enough." After agreeing upon a time, they finally got to work. The trio went over every detail of the case, ensuring that everyone knew what to say and how they were approaching each topic.
"My team and I will go over everything an additional time, fine tooth comb for any errors, fact check dates and numbers, all that. Then we will meet again next Friday for any final detailing and to make sure every loophole is covered. The following Tuesday we will be in court. If everything goes to plan, you two will be out of this mess by the end of the month."
"Great, all sounds great. And we've covered every angle the opposition could possibly come from?" Malfoy checked for probably the eighth time that day.
"Yes, I'm certain. And if they somehow have something unexpected, I have sat in enough hearings and done enough research to know exactly how to handle the situation. I'm confident we will win." Hermione beamed at them, almost believing her words.
"Alrighty. We will leave you to work and see you on Saturday," Astoria stood and quickly hugged Hermione. "Thank you again for everything."
Weekend could not come soon enough, Hermione decided the next day at what was supposed to be lunch but had instead turned out to be Hermioen attempting to moderate her two clients - a pair of divorcés whose child had been attacked. The parents blamed each other, and the entire two hours were an absolute waste. Hermione eventually ordered them out of her office, informing them she would organize time to meet with them separately the following Monday. She didn't have a moment to eat, however, because now two of her employees had some new information for the old man's case to present. They had barely finished when Janice stopped by, chucking a pile of letters that had been unearthed by the aurors on a house search of a suspect's house. Now she had to run over them, but the rest of her day was booked and employees had piles upon piles to do. Hermione sighed, resigning herself to the fact she would have to spend Saturday morning working.
Seven that evening, Hermione was awoken by a knock on her door. She lifted her to realize she had fallen asleep writing. Her face and fingers had ink all over them and the parchment was ruined. She sighed. "Come in," called the witch as she hurried to wipe the ink. Harry popped his head in.
"Hey 'Mione. Just got back from a short mission and heard you got the letters we sent ahead. Thought I'd come check in. You okay?" He asked, closing the door behind him.
"Harry! Hi. I'll be fine, I just need to go to bed before two tonight… And maybe eat something." Hermione glanced at the clock and sighed. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. No wonder she felt so faint.
"Two? Have you been sleeping at all?" Harry asked, looking with concern at his friend. "And after Friday… Please be honest, are you okay?"
"I told you, I will be. I just need a proper meal and to finish a few more things. Look, it's always rough at the beginning of a new job. I'll be fine soon enough. And Friday was… a fluke. I got too drunk, and being intoxicated makes people irrational."
Harry shrugged and promised to drop a meal at her place soon - as long as she went home in the next twenty minutes. Hermione agreed, and hurried to redo the contract she had been drafting.
Come Friday evening, Hermione was interrupted mid-cooking by a knock on her door. She opened it to find the blonde wizard she had invited. "Evening. Come on in."
Malfoy bowed over the threshold and shut the door behind himself. "Granger. Astoria sent her greetings through me; she is 'ill'."
"Why do you sound so skeptical?" Hermione led her friend to the kitchen where she hurried to finish preparing dinner.
"Because she had a lunch date with her new man and appeared to be just fine then."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "She deserves a good date though."
"Are you saying she blew us off for more time with Hot Sex Man? That witch!" gasped the brunette. "What would you like to drink?"
"Whatever you have is fine," Malfoy took a seat at the kitchen island. " 'Hot Sex Man'?"
"Apparently he is skilled in bed," Hermione responded. "Don't ask."
She added as he opened his mouth, a smirk already forming. "I have cabernet, butterbeer, firewhiskey, vodka, a bunch of mixers, seltzer water, brandy, chardonnay, rosé - what's so funny?"
The blonde man was almost falling off his chair he was laughing so hard. "You don't drink much, hm?"
"I don't! I really don't" She exclaimed.
"Why am I supposed to believe you?"
"Because if I drank a lot, these bottles would be empty and in the trash!"
"I suppose… or you simply stocked up today?"
"I did not! I have been working."
"Working on a bottle of wine?"
"You are insufferable," Hermione declared. "Now make a choice or I'll make one for you - and you won't like it."
"Fine, fine. I'll have tea. Arghhh!" Malfoy gulped as Hermione swatted him with a dish towel. "What was that for?"
"You have me list all my drinks, tease me about it, and then choose tea?"
"And?"
"Honestly," the witch rolled her eyes and put the kettle on. "Why do I even bother?"
"Because I am simply charming," the man smirked. Suddenly he wrinkled his nose. "Is something burning?"
"Oh my god!" Hermione rushed to the oven, pulling out a smoking, black turkey. "Damn it. It might still be partially edible, I suppose."
"Granger, that thing is carcinogenic. I'd rather not eat a lump of coal for dinner. What else do you have?" he opened the fridge and began shuffling food around.
The witch sighed, dumping the poultry into the bin. "I'm no good at cooking. I don't ever have time to make anything besides salad and maybe a grilled chicken breast. And eggs, of course." Hermione attempted to defend herself. "I can make us omelets?"
"Breakfast for dinner? No way."
"What?" The witch asked in mock outrage. "That's the best dinner."
"It is an insult to human kind." Malfoy reached into the fridge and pulled out a stack of items. "Let's make this fun."
"Fun?" the witch sketched a brown. Malfoy just grinned.
An hour later, the pair was lounging on the living room floor. Around them was a spread of cheeses, meats, toasted baguette slices, fruit, glasses of wine, and their plates.
"I've done a great many things in my life, but a picnic in my living room? Never.'' Hermione sighed.
"They don't call me The Slytherin Genius for nothing," the man smirked.
"No-one calls you that."
"They do too."
Hermione rolled onto stomach to face the blonde man. Their noses were only inches apart now, looking at each other with a twinkling amusement in their eyes. "Name one person."
"You." Malfoy's voice was rough as he said this.
"In your dreams," Hermione whispered, not sure why she felt the urge to do so.
Malfoy grinned. "You don't want to know what you call me in my dreams," He caressed her cheek. "What you do in them."
"Oh, really?" the witches' eyes fluttered. She looked at his lips, then deep into his endless gray eyes. Maybe it was the wine, but Hermione swore she saw lust in them.
"Really," Malfoy whispered, his voice husky and dry. "You have no idea how much people admire you, do you? How beautiful you are."
"No one thinks that," Hermione scoffed. Then asked nervously, "do they?"
"I do," Malfoy said, although Hermione may have imagined it, he said it so quietly. Then his lips were on hers, his hands in her hair. Hermione grabbed his shirt, feeling his rock hard muscles. The kiss was heated and passionate. All their years of separation and resentment came pouring out as a battle of lips and tongues. Their hands roamed across each other's backs, heads, necks.
Malfoy flipped then so he was on top of Hermione, their bodies pressed together separated only by clothing. He began kissing down her neck, and she arched into him. The noise that came out of her made the blonde truly feral. She bunched her hands in his shirt, pulling on it. Malfoy leaned away, breaking contact, just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Hermione felt him over, rubbing his muscular abs. He let out a growl that drove Hermione mad. The pair forgot where they were, who they were with.
Soon Hermione's top was unbuttoned, Malfoy palming her breasts. She shoved her hands into his hair and ground her hips into his. His hand slipped under her bra, and another around her back to unclasp it. Then every gap between their chest was pressed away, the world slipping away. Malfoy's lips claimed her nipple, pinching her other with his free hand. They were in their own world. Whether it was the wine or lust or genuine connection that fueled their moves, neither knew.
Hermione let out a moan as Malfoy slid his tongue down her stomach. It made her harch, hitting her head soundly against the ouch. She sat up sharply.
"Ouch!" She grunted, grabbing her throbbing head. Draco quickly backed off.
"Are you alright?" the blonde asked, but the witch was too busy seeing stars to answer. "Let me grab you some ice or…" He jumped up and ran to the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with an ice pack wrapped in a damp dishtowel. He held it to the back of her and realized the predicament they were in.
"God's… what have we done?" Granger muttered. Draco looked at her, opening his mouth to say that making out wasn't such a big deal when he saw what she meant. While locking lips, they had somehow managed to move all across the room, knocking the wine bottle over and soaking the rug, as well as mushing cheese and crumbling crackers everywhere.
"Damn," the blonde muttered. "How'd we even do that?"
"No idea…" the witch responded, pulling her wand from the coffee table to begin cleaning. As she stretched her arm, her breasts were put on full display and Draco couldn't stop himself from admiring the view. He shoved his hands in his pockets, mouth watering, surprised by his own actions. Draco could feel himself hard in his pants, and he took deep breaths to try and calm himself. What the hell is happening? How had he ended up doing all that with Granger?
She suddenly seemed to realize that she was topless. The brunette crossed her arms and glared at him. He realized he was standing on her shirt, so Daco bent and handed it to her. She grabbed it and her bra and hurriedly got redressed. Both of their hair was a mess, their lips bruised. Draco was fairly certain he could feel a hickey forming on his neck.
What the fuck am I going to tell Astoria? He wondered. Then he groaned. Granger whipped around to look at him.,
"What, Malfoy?" She snipped. He was taken aback.
"I… just trying to figure out what to tell people," He said, gesturing to his neck.
"Why? Ashamed that a mudblood did that?"She glared at him and Draco had a flashback to their school years, fighting like this in the hallways.
"No, but you might not want it to spread that a Death Eater did that," he growled, pointing at her. She raised an eyebrow then walked to the bathroom. She took one glance at her reflection and swore colorfully. Draco smirked, but it wasn't real. He leaned against the door frame.
"Happy for me to keep it a secret now, aren't you?" He attempted to hide his hurt and shame with humor and snark.
Granger didn't seem to buy his act, though. She turned to him with a look of hurt in her eyes, mirroring the way he felt. Quietly she said, "I don't blame you for that." She gestured to the mark in his left forearm.
"Really? 'Cause the fact you can't look at me says otherwise." His voice was gruff with emotion.
Slowly, Granger raised her brown eyes to his and seemed to search in the pools of gray mist, looking for… remorse? regret? He didn't know. Her eyes were wide, but not pitying. Her pert lips parted and he gulped audibly, nervous what she would say. "Draco Malfoy, I don't blame you for all you've done over the years. And I will say that to anyone who hurts you as many times as it takes to get into their thick skulls that you had no other choice. I testified for you once and I would do it again. You are not innocent, but you are not willfully guilty, either."
Draco didn't realize how much he needed to hear those words until he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He turned away, embarrassed, but a soft hand caught his jaw. The young witch before him held his chin, carefully caressing it. She opened her mouth, possibly to say something, but Drcao lost all control of his actions. He leaned in and captured her lips in his. Gently, slow kissing, nothing like before. A reassurance that she truly believed that, his gratefulness and just how much those words meant.
She pulled back slowly, hovering inches from his face, her eyes still closed. She appeared to be steeling herself. Draco realized she was probably about to ask him to go and put on the mask he had worn for so many years.
"I'll go," He said, saving her from having to ask. He walked to the living room and pulled his shirt on.
Draco stood in the doorway about to leave when Granger finally spoke again. "We shouldn't have," She said quietly. He turned to her, trying to decide how to respond. But she wasn't done. "You're engaged. Even if it isn't real… You two are some of my first friends in a while. I'm not risking that for lust. And neither should you. Goodbye, Malfoy." and the door closed. The blonde man was left staring at the closed door of the flat he had just spent far too long making out in. What the fuck what happening?
A/N: Finally, please only leave kind or constructive reviews, although both are certainly appreciated.