Nicest Thing

A/N: This was particularly fun to write. As for the story in Draco’s POV there will most definitely be different scenes – as a matter of fact there will be very little scenes similar to Hermione’s but rather other things they have done together. This one will, of course, have a happy ending – I like happy endings – but it’s not exactly over quite yet. A few more chapters then Hermione’s POV is complete, including an ending.

katiekrm – I take everyone’s review into consideration when I write or re-write chapters. So it’s very good that you’ve helped me make this a good story.

hotbabe – It’s not that other people don’t want Hermione it’s that she doesn’t want to date. She’s perfectly content with being single – although sometimes she feels lonely and singled out – but she enjoys her solitude. There are probably tons of blokes who want Hermione but she’s too stubborn or naïve to notice them.

margaritama – No. She doesn’t… JUST KIDDING! It wouldn’t be a DRACO/HERMIONE fic without some kind of resolution. As for Cormac, I couldn’t think of any one else who’d fit this role – you’ll see when you read – and it just reeks of Cormac-ness. So yeah. Not to mention I was out of names and his just popped into my head. LOL.

Song:
The Kooks – Naive
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-KnNVoFsCc

===============================================================================
==============================================================================

Hermione looked at herself in her large full size mirror. She didn’t know when was the last time she spent so much time fixing herself up – a majority of it being spent doing her hair. It had taken two hours to tame her unruly hair that now sat atop her head with long curls of hair spiraling down her back. Her gown was a dark periwinkle, which reminded her of her gown during the Yule Ball. Memories of her childhood – not so good ones but at least she had them.

She checked herself twice before there was a slight rap on her door. Hermione hurried to the door, pushing her earrings on and slipping into her shoes. She stumbled only once but made it to the door before Cormac could knock once more. Smiling, Hermione pulled the door open but her smile soon faded. An unknown man was standing in front of her wearing dark robes and a hat.

“Miss Granger?” He asked in a deep husky voice, to which Hermione nodded, “Mr. McLaggen is waiting in the carriage for you. This way.”

She frowned slightly, was it too difficult for him to get out of the carriage to come to her door? Draco had done it, then again he had forced her to go to that abysmal party and McLaggen was probably using proper etiquette. Keep telling yourself that, her mind said with a haughty laugh as the door to the carriage opened and McLaggen leaned over.

He helped pull her in and sat her down beside him. Wearing a lovely dark shade of brown dress robes, perfectly tailored to his body, he looked gorgeous. His golden eyes rested on Hermione’s for a second – apparently noticing her eyes trace over his form. Squirming a little, Hermione figured she was making him feel uncomfortable and thus looked elsewhere.

“I got these robes in Venice,” Cormac said lightly, fixing the label of his inner coat, “My grandfather had them tailored especially for me.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Hermione nodded, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

She had to remind herself that maybe he was feeling uncomfortable, or not really sure what to say. She wasn’t sure what she’d say either and it was perfectly acceptable to mention where one’s clothing came from.

“How many galas have you been to?” Hermione asked, staring at his jaw, which was angled slightly and prominent.

“A few. I find them to be a tad dreary but I figure with you by my side, they wouldn’t be so bad,” his eyes melted into hers and she flushed bright pink, clearing her throat to look outside as the countryside zoomed past them.

“I haven’t been to any,” Hermione said with a shrug, “I am a little excited though.”

“It’s only natural to feel excited when you have a date,” Cormac answered, wrapping his arm around her loosely.

Hermione normally would have shrugged him off but she decided to let him embrace her. What was the harm in that? She hadn’t been to many galas and the last one she went to was an utter disaster. Four years ago, Neville Longbottom escorted her to the first gala and she ended up tending to his injuries when some one unleashed Cornish pixies on the crowd. Of course, they both managed to wrangle them in, but not before one dropped a bowl of punch on his head – nearly splitting his skull. Memories of their second year overlapped this event and poor Neville refused to go again. He decided piddling around in his garden or the greenhouses at Hogwarts was a better alternative. Not that she blamed him.

Cormac leaned into Hermione, his hand lightly caressing her bare shoulder. She felt ticklish but held in her little laugh in exchange of a sly smile at him. He smiled back and returned to looking out the window in silence.

===============================================================================
==============================================================================

The Ministry Gala was held in one of the long, large enchanted ballrooms that sat between the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophe. Large lanterns littered the skies above them, lighting a beautiful path covered with enchanted rose petals that changed colors according to the color dress people wore. Dove sat perched on large black street lights that flickered with flames, and cooed whenever some one passed.

There were rows of photographers lined up along the narrow path – reminding Hermione of a red carpet affair in the Muggle world, with the exception that there was no red carpet but smooth marble floor. She felt Cormac wrap his arm around her waist and jerk her to him, a little rougher than she wanted but she let it slid. She had a feeling she was going to let a lot of things slide this evening – but it was better than being stuck at home eating pints of ice cream.

“Just smile,” Cormac whispered, as if he had to tell her twice. Her faux smile was always handy in her back pocket – she had to always force a smile when dealing with idiots that it came naturally. But, for once she didn’t want to put that fake smile on, she smiled for real.

“Cormac! Cormac!” A few photographers shouted, waving at him as flying cameras took photos of them at every angle.

Expecting him to just push through the walking crowd and ignore the buzz of photographers, Hermione brought her hand to his and intertwined their fingers. He glanced down and smirked – that McLaggen smile that had once charmed her for a split second her sixth year. She smiled back but that smile disappeared when he stopped. Abruptly at that.

“Hello, Stevens,” Cormac said lightly, pulling Hermione to him, “My date, Hermione Granger.”

“Hermione Granger?!” the short portly man said loudly as his annoying buzz of a camera swung around them, snapping probably horrible pictures of her at really bad angles. “Wow, where’s Draco Ms. Granger?”

“Now now, we’re not here to talk about him,” Cormac interrupted whatever blasphemous things Hermione was about to spout off. She looked at him with a tiny bit of relief that he wasn’t going to bring up Draco Malfoy…but that went into the toilet as well. “Draco Malfoy can’t handle a woman like Hermione. Only some one debonair, sophisticated and dashingly handsome can. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, right.” Hermione mumbled having the worst feeling in her gut that Cormac was a clone of Gilderoy Lockhart.

“Ah, well we must go now,” Cormac nodded, noting Hermione’s sour look. He pulled her with him and let out a small sigh, “I am terribly sorry for that, my father knows Stevens since they were boys. Just had to let him get a small interview with me. For his job, you know.”

Hermione somehow doubted that but only nodded – he didn’t seem to care if it bothered her because as soon as they entered the beautiful hall, she was whisked away to a group of people she had never met before. By the way they dressed, she assumed they were the governors over Hogwarts. Older men with graying hair, Cormac looked devilishly handsome compared to them – he looked handsome without them either.

“Mr. Stebbins, Rockland, Viceroy, I would like to introduce you to my date, Hermione Granger.” Cormac said, holding Hermione to his possessively, “Hermione, these are the gentlemen that I work with.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Hermione said, shaking each other their hands – to which they chuckled at her apparent lack of proper etiquette. Cormac’s jaw clenched but he said nothing and took his colleagues’ laughs as insult – apparently.

“Ah, I see my good friend Lyle over there. Come Hermione,” he said shrewdly, “If you excuse us.”

“Did you see her face, I bet she would’ve chewed her right arm off to get away from that git,” Viceroy whispered to Rockland as Hermione was shuttled past them, both older men chortling quietly.

“Never shake the hands of some one above you, occupational wise, Hermione,” Cormac said hastily, interrupting her mild smirk at Viceroy’s words.

“I always shake people’s hands – no matter if they’re the Queen of England.” Hermione replied coldly, having a feeling she was going to have to make some horrid excuse and hide in the ladies’ loo all night.

“The Queen of what?” Cormac asked absentmindedly, changing his thoughts when they were approached by none other than Madam Nash. “Madam Nash! She’s so wealthy and I hear she has land all around the world. Manages the Falmouth Falcons you know. Wonder why she’s coming here? Maybe she recognizes me from my Puddlemere days.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and was greeted with much gusto by Madam Nash.

“Oh Hermione dear!” Cormac’s face fell and his eyes dropped to the top of Hermione’s head as Madam Nash embraced her in a big hug that would rival Mrs. Weasley’s hugs. “How are you my dear? I have not heard a word from you since the Falmouth Falcon party. Oh where is Draco? I’m sure you two have patched things up by now. He’s been in a foul mood ever since. Then again, lovers always have quarrels and it is the make up that is worth it, isn’t it?”

She waggled her eyebrows implying something that caused Hermione to turn red. Cormac cleared his throat, causing Madam Nash to look up at him.

“Good evening, Madam Nash,” Cormac said lightly, elbowing Hermione in the side.

“Oh, oh…” Hermione broke from her thoughts, “Madam Nash, this is Cormac McLaggen…my..my..”

“Her boyfriend,” Cormac interrupted, ignoring the shocked expression that fell on Hermione’s face, “How are you? I’ve heard such lovely things about your work.”

Madam Nash stared at Hermione for a second and then back at Cormac, “Lovely dear. Very nice to meet you. So, Hermione I do hope you will come to the Quidditch Cup next weekend. I will shave you a seat on the sidelines if you want a closer look. I’m sure Draco would love to see you…”

“Draco Malfoy?” Cormac interrupted, causing Madam Nash to become slightly pink in the face, “Heh, Hermione would never do anything with Draco Malfoy. His family is not nearly as proud as the McLaggens.”

“Cormac,” Hermione whispered, watching Madam Nash’s face to turn a beet red as she tried to quell whatever nasty words that were bubbling at the tip of her tongue. “Stop.”

“Malfoy’s name has been tainted since the end of the war and Hermione would never have anything to do with persons of such…low quality,” Cormac continued, ignoring Hermione’s silent and verbal please for him to stop, “Furthermore, it might be nice to hear you speak of more…worthy people such as myself with Hermione and not that pureblood dog…”

Oh no. Madam Nash looked as if she were about to explode. Her eyes were bugging out of her head and her chubby hands were clenched into tight balls. Hermione reached out and touched her arm, hoping to calm her down. When their eyes met, she relaxed – apparently reading Hermione’s apologetic look and accepting that she didn’t believe anything Cormac said, although she should have. Draco was a right out git.

“Well, at least some people like the Malfoys have learned respect amongst their communities,” Madam Nash squeaked, still angry, “I bid you good night. Hermione dear, why don’t we catch up later when you’re not surrounded by pompous blaggards.”

Cormac’s jaw dropped as Madam Nash stormed off and he glared at Hermione, who was trying to suppress a laugh.

“The nerve of that woman,” he growled, “Doesn’t she know who I am? I’m worth five of Draco Malfoy. Right?”

Hermione watched Madam Nash wave her fat arm in front of who she could tell was her husband, a tall lanky man that was about three times her height but also three times skinnier. His grave face caused her to stifle another laugh – which made her look as if she were nodding to Cormac.

He sniffed and turned around, pulling Hermione with him. “Speak of the devil.”

Hermione turned and looked with wide eyes as Draco managed to pull himself from the throng of photographers. He dusted himself off and she noticed that he was wearing a deep emerald colored dress robes that were all black on the inside. His hair was slicked back, reminding her of their first two years at Hogwarts, and he carried what looked like Lucius’ cane – yet it had a different design. The father’s son becomes the father. Ironic.

A girl popped out from the crowd as well, but she didn’t look too upset or angry by getting mobbed. In fact, she looked as if she wanted to go back out there, if it wasn’t for Draco grasping onto her arm and pulling her with him. He stopped when their eyes made contact, lowering over her body which caused her to hold her breath.

“Let’s say hello, shall we?” Cormac said, pulling Hermione with him.

“Cormac, no. Let’s go dance,” Hermione said quickly feeling her feet move as Cormac put his hand on her lower back and push her with him.

“I hate dancing,” Cormac muttered as they reached Draco and the girl – who turned out to be Pansy Parkinson.

“McLaggen. Granger,” Draco said calmly, curtly nodding at them, “My date, Pansy.”

“Pleasure,” Pansy said as Cormac took her hand and pressed his lips against it.

Of course she had to lift up her left hand to show the large rock on her finger – which looked far too godly and as if it were about to rip her finger off by the sheer weight of the stone. She giggled when Cormac kissed her hand and eyed him with much interest – completely ignoring the fact that Draco was currently glaring daggers into Cormac’s face.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Cormac said huskily, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and Draco to quirk his eyebrow, “Hermione and I were just speaking of you, Malfoy.”

“Oh, really?” Draco asked with indifference, his eyes shifting over Cormac as if he were sizing the wizard up, “Pray tell, what about?”

“The Quidditch World Cup,” Hermione blurted out, trying to nudge Cormac into going along with her. “We were just talking about whether the Falmouth Falcons would beat Bulgaria.”

“You hate Quidditch,” Draco replied, looking at Hermione his face now cold.

“Ah, see she might have hated Quidditch with you,” Cormac interrupted their silent face off, “But I did play on Puddlemere United.”

“As reserve,” Draco snorted, watching Cormac’s face twist angrily and turn red. “You never played a single game in your career – and from what I heard, they canned you after you started scalping tickets to games.”

“That’s a down right lie and you know it!” Cormac snarled, his hand coming loose from Hermione’s waist, “I was never a reserve! I played against Ireland for Merlin’s sake.”

“Puddlemere United did, you…you sat on the bench the entire time.” Draco seemed happy for the fact that Cormac looked like a red faced blow fish who was beginning to sputter words.

“I don’t think it has to do with talent,” Hermione interrupted, causing both to look at them – Pansy was off in her own world staring at her ring – “Being a reserve is still something to be proud of. Not every one can buy their way in…”

She knew that was a backhand comment, not to mention wholly untrue. She knew Draco was an excellent player – even in school but there he was held back because of Harry, who was just slightly better than he was. Cormac’s face deflated and he looked triumphed against Draco, his chest puffing out.

“If you’re implying that I had to buy my way in, Granger,” Draco snapped, glowering at her with eyes that could pierce flesh.

“She’s telling you, not implying Malfoy,” Cormac said proudly, “Hermione may not like Quidditch but she goes for the best players.”

What. An. Idiot. Hermione thought, rolling her eyes. If that were true, she’d be married to Viktor Krum or worse Draco Malfoy. Both were noted to be the ‘best’ Quidditch players of the century.

“Excuse me?” Everyone turned and looked upward at a tall, towering man – Brutus Nash. “I want to ask Her…Hermine to dance.”

“Hermione,” Draco and Cormac both corrected at the same time, glaring at one another.

“Right,” Brutus replied, yet some how she didn’t think it went into that thick head of his. He looked at her, “Would you?”

“I’d love to,” Hermione replied quickly, “You don’t mind, Cormac?”

Cormac opened his mouth to say something but when Brutus took a step forward, all of his bravery disappeared and so did the color in his face.

“No…not at all…go and dance.” He mumbled, watching Brutus take Hermione’s hand lightly and pull her to the dance floor.

She let out a sigh of relief but suddenly felt awkward. Brutus was nearly four times her size, both height and width, she had a feeling he might have been part giant but then again she didn’t want to judge. Brutus was unusually gentle for his large frame and held Hermione at proper arm’s length.

“Me mum,” Brutus spoke with a low graveling voice, “She noticed Draco and McLaggen bickering. Wanted me to ask you to dance.”

“Oh,” Hermione looked over to Madam Nash, who was eagerly watching them with wide saucer like eyes, “Thanks.”

“Is no problem,” he replied, both of them remained quiet as they swayed back and forth. Neither looking at one another.

He reminded her of Viktor Krum, not because both were a little bulky, but because like Viktor he was more of a physical being. He stood there in silence and just stared off into space – often making her wonder what he was thinking. Probably about something cuddly or fuzzy – he seemed the type to like animals, so who knew. Brutus turned Hermione in a small spin just as the song was about to end but both stopped mid way.

A loud crash and clutter erupted from behind her, causing both to look and the band to stop playing. Draco had balled his fist up and sent it flying into the side of Cormac’s face. Cormac swung back and hit Draco in the eye. They crashed together, causing Pansy to let out a girlish scream and cover her eyes with that giant ring. Draco had Cormac on the floor, punching him repeatedly before Cormac kicked him from him. He rose quickly and tackled Draco into a long table of food, causing both to spill over the table.

Most people stood there in shock and watched as Draco grasped Cormac by the label of his brown dress robes and punch him in the nose several times. Cormac howled in pain and kicked Draco’s shin before swinging at him again. They tackled each other again and flew over the other side of the table, skidding across the ground with fists flying.

“Break them up!” Madam Nash cried, waiving her hand, “BRUTUS!”

In a flash, Brutus had rushed to the pair of grabbling men and pulled them apart. He grabbed the scruff of Cormac’s robes and ripped him from Draco – having grabbed onto his arm.

“Say that again, McLaggen and I’ll hex your bollocks off and put them on my fucking mantle!” Draco spat angrily, blood dripping down his chin.

“I’ll sue you Malfoy! I’ll sue you for assault!” Cormac shouted, more blood streaming from his face than Draco.

“Cormac!” Hermione said loudly, having gotten her baring and rushed over to him, “Oh Merlin.”

Cormac wrapped an arm around her shoulder and took heavy breaths. She stared at his injured face and felt anger boil up in her. Unleashing her wrath on Draco.

“How dare you strike another man!” Hermione growled, “What is wrong with you!?”

“Granger, stay out of this,” Draco snarled back, making a lunge at Cormac but was firmly held back by Brutus. He pulled from Brutus and shrugged his torn dress robe back onto his shoulder, “Let go of me, don’t touch me Pansy.”

Hermione held onto Cormac as Draco stormed off, Pansy shouting something incoherent at him as she chased after him. Cormac may have been a right git this night but he didn’t deserve getting pummeled by Draco. Even if he said something wrong.

“C’mon,” Hermione replied lightly, pulling him with her as they went to sit down. “Let me get some ice for that.”

Cormac pulled his broken tie from his shirt and threw it at the table, growling angrily as Hermione returned. She sat across from him and began wiping the blood from random cuts on his skin.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked idly as she placed some ice on a swollen lip.

“Malfoy…ouch,” Cormac hissed when he felt the coldness of the ice against his skin, “He doesn’t like criticism of his own team. I merely stated that Bulgaria had far more talented players and that Krum would wip the floor with him.”

“And he punched you?” Hermione was somewhat skeptical of Cormac’s answer but she wasn’t about to ask Draco for his side of the story.

“He’s a barbarian,” Cormac said calmly, “It’s a good thing you’re not with him anymore. I’d like to think I’d treat you loads better. It’s a wonder that he can even get a girl.”

“I was never with him, Cormac.” Hermione replied, brushing his wiry blond locks from his head to look at a large bump forming. “And let’s not talk about Malfoy any more. Ok?”

He nodded and sighed, leaning back in his chair as Hermione dapped up the blood that had begun to dry on his skin. She saw Madam Nash scolding Draco – who was muttering something but glaring at them the entire time. Nash turned and looked at Hermione with soft eyes but soon returned to shout at Draco.

She felt a hand on her knee, traveling up her thigh and brought her eyes back to Cormac. His eyes were no longer filled with anger but with something else. Pulling his hand from her thigh, Hermione leaned over to grab some more ice from a bucket she had brought. Cormac grasped onto her wrist and pulled her to him, his lips crashed onto hers.

It wasn’t the sweet chaste kiss he gave her a few days before – but one that was sloppy and oddly full of saliva. His bruised swollen lip caused him to groan and her to feel vomit traveling up her throat when he tried to shove his tongue into her mouth. Hermione pulled roughly from him, planting her hands on his shoulders.

“What are you doing!?” she hissed, wiping her mouth of his spit.

“Kissing you,” Cormac replied, leaning in to kiss her again but she put her hand over his mouth and shoved.

“I got that part but I think this is hardly the time to be trying to kiss me,” Hermione scolded feeling like a mother scolding a boy for picking his nose.

“C’mon Hermione. I took a few punches, the least you could do…”

“The least I could do? I had an impression that I was your date not some girl you’re taking here to snog senseless.”

“Why else do you think I’d bring you if I didn’t believe I’d go home with you tonight?” He asked, almost a mask of indifference, “I mean you shagged Draco – why not me?”

“You…you…” Hermione felt anger boil up her spine. She had endured enough from this…this sleaze! First he was trying to pawn her off as some piece of arm candy, and next he was assuming she’d shag him because she shagged Draco! The nerve!

“Hermione, let’s go somewhere else and talk about this,” Cormac purred, running his hand up her thigh and slowly bringing it in.

She clamped her legs closed and stood, “I would NEVER under any circumstances shag you Cormac McLaggen!”

Her voice boomed over everyone, causing a few people to stop and stare. Cormac’s face turned red and he grasped onto her hand trying to pull her down to sit again.

“You’re causing a scene, Hermione.” He said impatiently, looking around as everyone seemed to turn their attention to them, “Don’t be unreasonable. You had a fun time did you not?”

“A fun time? Being shown off as some kind of trophy constitutes as a fun time? I’d rather eat dragon dung!” Hermione’s voice was still booming and a few chuckles, namely from Viceroy and Rockland echoed in the silent hall.

“Hermione! Shut. Up!” Cromac growled, trying to pull her down again – his grasp tightened enough to turn his knuckles white. “Stop being such a cold frigid bitch - unless that’s why Malfoy dumped you…”

“Cold. Frigid?” Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow which Cormac might have interpreted it as she was going back on her words about not shagging him and had smirked at her.

She growled and ripped her hand from him. Grabbing onto the bucket of ice, Hermione lifted it up and dumped it straight onto Cormac. His shouts echoed across the hall causing him to jump out of his seat as ice fell into his robes.

“Who’s cold and frigid now, Cormac!?” Hermione snarled, storming away while she left a bruised and very cold Cormac shivering across the hall.

Hermione felt all eyes on her but she didn’t care. Not at all. She pushed past the photographers and ignored her name when some one called her. Reaching outside the cool air broke against her skin – causing any forming tears of anger to vanish.

“Urgh!” Hermione groaned as she plopped onto the steps outside, running her hands into her hair as curls had come undone in her storming out.

She held her face in her hands and wondered what was wrong with her. She hadn’t had a proper date in ages and now when she did it turned out like this. Maybe she should just be a nun and never have to worry about men again. Some one emerged from the gala as well and stood behind her.

“Go away Cormac. If you come one step closer to me I’ll…”

“I’m not Cormac,” Draco said calmly, coming to sit next to Hermione, “I did see him rush off to the loo though.”

“What do you want?” Hermione snapped, not looking at Draco but rather staring at his shiny shoes.

“To apologize,” Draco said in a small voice – him apologizing must have been hard because she had never heard Malfoy say sorry for anything he did. “For beating your date up and ruining your evening.”

“It was ruined from the start,” Hermione said through her fingers, lifting her head up to look at him, “I didn’t need you to ruin it for me. Cormac did it all on his own.”

Draco nodded, “I apologize still.”

“Well, I accept your apology then.”

They sat in silence, just staring straight ahead at the carriages. She saw Draco’s jaw clench and unclench as if he were trying to speak but nothing came out. Hermione rose, as did Draco, and she looked at him. Her own lips parted to speak but she didn’t say anything.

“Granger?” Draco asked just as Hermione was beginning to feel dizzy, “Are you alright?”

“No.” Hermione whispered as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted, passed out, or whatever it was.

“Oh shit.” Was the last thing she heard.