Nicest Thing

Second to last chapter in HERMIONE'S POV!

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Hermione stood in front of the large projection in the center of the Ministry and groaned. She was forced, coerced really, into watching the countdown to the Quidditch World Cup be charmed onto the large revolving news meter. The last thing she ever wanted to see again was Draco Malfoy’s smug and surprisingly handsome features plastered all over the place – which it was. Long strands of flowing fabrics in the colors of the Falmouth Falcons were raised above the projection and dangled loosely as one looped over another to create beautiful decorations. Gray and white banners were erected to flash ‘YOU CAN DO IT! GO FALMOUTH!’ over and over, followed by an enchanted falcon swooping over the letters chasing after a snitch.

Disgusting. The three days before the Quidditch World Cup were positively the most depressing and aggravating days in Hermione’s life. The Ministry was extremely proud that one of their ‘home’ teams was going to the World Cup and spent more galleons than Hermione made in twenty years to spruce up the place. The colors were changed to Falmouth Falcons dark gray and white banners, streamers, and posters, just about everything. Hermione had to constantly shovel through mounds of gray and white confetti to get to work and spent about thirty minutes casting spells to remove them from her hair. It was getting worse as the days went on.

Large posters of the team were erected around the entire entryway of the Ministry – making Hermione stare at the largest one of all. Draco Malfoy stood with his sleeves rolled up, his Dark Mark printed on his left forearm, as he smiled at those who passed by. News scrolls of him answering questions played on repeat and she had to shove her hands over her ears whenever she passed or else his silky smooth voice would be the bane of her existence, constantly chattering in her head, while she worked. It was annoying and she hated it.

What she hated more was the constant female fan worshipers who sported fake – yet very tacky and not to mention inconsiderate – Dark Marks on their left arms while wearing Draco’s old uniforms he was known to auction off at the end of the season for charity. It seemed every female in the Ministry, even the old ones, were preparing to throw themselves at Draco – who was mentioned to make an appearance with his team the next day.Hermione merely rolled her eyes as Aurors were put to setting invisible barriers around the Ministry to keep fans – who should never be in a government building anyway – at bay. There had been a raffle that all Ministry employees, expect Hermione, had been involved in. The lucky winner got to take a picture with the entire team. Oh joy.

The crowd was thick with people, employees and fans alike. Hermione found herself nudged firmly between Harry and Ron – who looked rather excited despite it being Malfoy’s team. She inhaled when the large pearly doors opened, followed by cringing at the noise girls seemed to gush when the team arrived. Draco, of course, was in the front despite not being the captain. His silvery locks distinguished him from the rest of the team – who all had dark brown and black hair and dark eyes.

The Minister of Magic rushed through the crowd and shook hands with Mr. Malvini and Madam Nash – who beamed and winked when she saw Hermione looking disgruntled. Draco nodded as a few girls up front literally screeched that they loved him and showed off their crudely drawn Dark Marks. Disgusting. Did she already say that? Well, it was. Utterly disgusting.

“Welcome!” the Minister said, a pompous prat – why Kingsley had to retire was beyond her, “Welcome Falmouth Falcons!”

“Get over with it,” Hermione growled, “I have work to do.”

“Oh c’mon ‘Mione. Not every day you get to meet famous…” Ron said trying to peak over a taller bloke in front of him, but the look Hermione gave him caused him to shut his mouth.

“Don’t worry. They’re going to talk about the usual and then do the raffle.” Harry promised, smiling at Hermione. “You never know, you might win.”

“I hate raffles and I didn’t even put my name in.” Hermione said grumpily – in reality, she loved raffles especially when she was a kid but had never won anything, not that it mattered. It was THIS raffle that she didn’t like.

The crowd cheered happily when the Minister conjured the large raffle wheel – which looked very much like the one people would use during bingo. He spun the wheel around while most girls up front held their breaths, their faces turned purple. One name shot out into the air in which Draco caught it expertly – a swoon of girls sounded off after him. His eyes scanned the parchment and Hermione thought he looked a little flushed. It was probably one of those horrid girls in the front, with their bleach blond hair, eager green eyes…

“Hermione Granger,” Draco announced, his voice sounding indifferent yet his eyes streaked across the crowd as if it parted them and stared straight at her.

Her mouth dropped and she looked as if she were about to faint. She felt faint. Her eyes instantly shot to Harry, who gave her that damn knowing look. He grinned and nodded for her to go up.

“I’m going to kill you,” Hermione grumbled feeling Ron pull her back when she stepped up.

Good. He was going to keep her there and not let her go up…

“Can you get them to sign this?” Ron asked, handing her what appeared to be a Quidditch shirt.

So much for playing hero, Ron Weasley. Hermione growled and snatched the shirt from him as she walked the gauntlet of people. The girls in the front row looked at her scathingly and whispered in hush tones – implying that she cheated even though it was impossible. She tilted her chin up as an Auror, one of the newer ones, lifted the invisible line for her to enter.

Madam Nash smiled brightly, as did Brutus, but Draco didn’t smile at all and neither did she. She handed him the shirt stiffly and felt hands on her shoulders spinning her around to the crowd.

“Pictures!” The Minister sounded off, waving as he darted out of the picture.

She felt Draco’s hand on her shoulder and the rest of the team surrounded her. Bright flashes left her spinning and she resulted to leaning on Draco to get her sight straight. His arm was slung lightly over hers yet it was stiff and filled with tension. Her eyes glanced up at him and she noticed that his jaw was clenched and he had forced a smile. Good, because she did too.

The team signed the t-shirt and handed it to Draco, who flicked his hand over it in long loopy letters signing his name. He handed her the shirt stiffly and turned as more flashes occurred. Hermione felt like vomiting from the sheer brightness of the bulbs and Draco being in such close proximity. She leaned against him for the second time and felt his hand graze across her lower back to steady her.

He leaned down and whispered, “Stare straight through the flashes. It won’t make you dizzy.”

Of course, HE would know what to do in the spotlight. Just great. Hermione concentrated and did what he said against her better judgment and was surprised that it actually worked. After photos were taken, Draco’s hand remained lingering on her lower back, lightly tugging at her office robes. She looked up at him and their eyes met for a brief second before she was pulled back by the Minister.

“And there we have it! The Falmouth Falcons! Now, say what is your favorite thing about the Falcons, Ms. Granger?” He pointed his wand at her and Hermione instantly felt her mouth become dry as she tried to speak.

“Their strategy?” She didn’t know what to say and the girls up front glowered at her while Madam Nash chortled happily.

“Strategy!” the Minister cried out as the crowd cheered, “You heard it! Let’s give Ms. Granger a round of applause. Not every day you meet…Ms Granger?”

Hermione bolted. She didn’t know what was wrong with her but she bolted, clenching onto the t-shirt. Tossing it at Ron, Hermione pushed through the crowd and ignored Harry’s cries for her to come back. This was embarrassing and she hated it. She hated everyone and she hated Draco!

“URGH!” Hermione screamed as she made it to her office and slammed the door shut so hard that the glass broke.

She brought her hands to her face and tried to cry but no tears came out. Leaning back against the wall, Hermione banged her head against it and growled. Some one opened the door and she pulled her wand out prepared to hex him or her to the next century but she didn’t. Draco stood in the doorway looking at her with a confused face.

“Hermione,” He said lightly closing the door behind him, “I had nothing to…”

“I know,” Hermione whispered, “Neither did I. Bloody Harry. I’m going to kill him! He’ll wish he was still fighting Voldemort when I’m through with him!”

She looked determined to carry out her threat as she stared at the fire but her face softened when Draco stepped in front of her. His cobalt blue eyes stared into hers as he brought his hands to her face, cupping it lightly.

“I need to tell you something,” he whispered softly, “If I can’t tell you now I won’t ever be able to tell you….”

“What?” Hermione breathed, feeling her face flush with a stain of pink.

“Hermion. I…” Draco stared at her, his lip quivering, “I…I…I lo-“

“Draco!” Pansy’s shrill voice broke through the door, literally breaking whatever glass was left on her door.

Her eyes widened as she stumbled upon Hermione pushed up against the wall with Draco pressing himself against her, his hands cupped around her face. Both looked at her with wide eyes as she let out another shrill scream.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Pansy launched herself at Hermione, who only managed to wrangle free from Draco’s grasp but collided with her desk. “You slag! You’re messing with my fiancé!”

Draco rolled his eyes and stuck his arm out, grasping onto Pansy’s waist and hauled her from Hermione’s desk as she tried to run around it – or through it – to get at her.

“Enough!” Draco growled, tossing Pansy lightly against the door, “Get out of here, Pansy. I was speaking with…”

“Yeah if shoving your tongue down her throat consists of ‘talking’ you are such…you are…” Pansy breathed, glaring at Draco, “I HATE YOU!”

“No you don’t,” Draco said with a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re using me to get what you want and that’s fine but if you so much as lay a single pinkie on Hermione.”

“Oh, so she’s Hermione now? Just a few moments ago you looked as if you were about to gag!” Pansy screeched, causing several people to wander down the halls to her office.

Just what she needed, more photographs.

“Get out, Pansy,” Draco repeated in a dark tone almost frightening.

He looked scary when he was made, especially now that he was towering over Pansy with the devil’s glint in his eye. Pansy gulped and slowly backed out, with Draco slamming the door in her face and repairing the glass to cover her shocked expression. He turned and looked at Hermione, who was gripping onto her wand tightly clearly thinking of what hexes to use.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said again, those words sounding completely alien to Hermione as she blinked at him.

“Get out,” Hermione whispered when Draco stepped forward, his lips parted to speak. “Get out Draco. I’ve had enough”

“What?” Draco frowned, “Look, if it’s about Pansy.”

“It’s not,” Hermione interrupted, “I’ve had enough of all of this. For months. Weeks. I had to endure rumors and fluff written about me. Everywhere I go I am hounded about you. Now here you are about to tell me you love me? Don’t be a fool. You don’t love me, Draco.”

“Excuse me? Are you trying to tell me how I feel?” Draco said lowly, stalking toward her, “You’ve been denying everything when it came to us…”

“There is no us, there never was.” Hermione whispered softly, unable to bring her eyes to his, “Please, just leave.”

“Not until you tell me to my face that you don’t love me,” Draco murmured, nearly pushing her desk out of the way.

He grasped onto her wrist and jerked her forward with very little strength and Hermione fell into his embrace. His lips descended on hers and it felt…amazing. Warm soft flesh against flesh lighting up her entire office with the heat of passion. She moaned into the kiss and almost felt her arms wrapping around his neck but she halted.

Bringing her hands to his chest she pushed softly and he moved. Their breaths bathed one another as they panted but neither said a word. He was looking into her eyes, she knew it by the way he looked at her. He wanted to find some truth in his suspicions that she could possibly care for him. She could and she had – more than she would admit – but now she was over it. A superficial crush. He was Draco Malfoy. He could have any girl in the world and why would he settle with a Mudblood? One who had a temper and was smart and liked to work. It didn’t make sense.

“Get out,” Hermione whispered, watching Draco part from her, “Get out, Draco. I don’t want to see you again. Get out.”

“Hermione.” Draco whispered, dodging Hermione’s finger as she pointed at the door.

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING OFFICE!” Hermione’s voice cracked, “Please.”

He stiffened and nodded curtly, turning to the door where he threw it open. Pansy was standing there glaring while photographers began snapping photos.

“Get out of my way,” Draco growled as he pushed his way though, Pansy wagging her finger at him.

“See that! See that! SHE REJECTED YOU!” Pansy laughed haughtily, “Now that you’ve gotten that bitch out of your system…”

She didn’t finish listening to Pansy’s rant as she threw her door close and leaned against it, sobbing heavily. She slumped to the ground and gathered her legs under her as people shouted questions from behind the door. Her hands searched her pockets for something to blow her nose after sniffling but she paused when she pulled out a crumpled letter…in Draco’s handwriting. The one he had left on her table the night she got sick. She sniffled and pried the seal open, looking at the long written letter in front of her. Slowly, her heart began to sink and she started sobbing again. She was in love with him. Damn.