Nicest Thing

Songs
Love’s Just a Shadow that You Cast
Air Traffic – Just Abuse Me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXITxiLkuTo

In the Light of the Sun
Augustana – Boston
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqE7erQFoq8

I’ll be at Your Window Begging for More
Air Traffic – Shooting Star
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-rsQ2e_Gls


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Love’s Just a Shadow that You Cast
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The Ministry of Magic could hardly keep him out if he wanted to get in. With his father’s old connections, his fame, name and money he was able to simply walk in as if he owned the place. Draco hardly had to say a word and the Minister of Magic would roll over and play dead, fetch, and even brings the newspaper if and when he wanted. He used this to his advantage, of course. Walking through the pearly white gates of the Ministry, just beyond the torrent of Floos, Draco strode passed several people who had just realized who he was. He could feel the eyes of envy, shock and a tad bit of hatred burn into his back as the edge of his travel cloak billowed behind him. His cobalt eyes scanned the immediate crowd, focusing on the large projection in the center of the room. Apparently, the Aurors had made some kind of break on a case involving his dearly departed aunt Bellatrix, who seemed to stash a load of Dark Objects in her old home at the edge of Cogsworth.

He remembered the faithful day he came bursting into the Ministry, a man on a mission. He didn’t bother asking for where she was, he knew thanks to his father. The stares he received were enough to make even a troll blush, but he merely brushed it off. He met a bint of a woman named Charlene at the entrance to the Department of Magical Creatures and tried to shrug her off as he made his way to Hermione Granger’s office. She, of course, would try everything in her miniscule brain to get attention from him, going so far as to push her quill into her cleavage. It only made him chuckle, not in his head but out loud, there were no need for niceties for a woman he hardly knew.

She made it difficult, Hermione that is. First she ignored him, insulted him, and finally with the help of her lovely boss Draco had ensnared her. Their first lunch had gone as expected. Neither spoke much but when the conversation was started, he didn’t know who spoke first or initiative the conversation just that it did, it didn’t end. Three hours of speaking over cold coffee and remnants of a club sandwich made his day. He was able to sleep well that night, knowing that if he was able to convince her to lunch one day he would be able to do it again.

This was where he was at now, their third lunch and he was looking forward to it. Their second lunch consisted of her commenting on his lack of manners toward the servers and he commented on her lack of propriety and manners at the table. Of all the women he went to lunch, dinner, or even just shagged, her table manners were abysmal. She didn’t order the typical salad with light dressing instead she went straight for the item that held more carbohydrates than he would have even thought possible. Not only that, she ate every bit of it and didn’t once think that she cared. She licked her fingers after eating fruit, which was actually a turn on but that’s beside the point. She had the tendency to pick her teeth with her fingers instead of spelling the remnants away. Her mannerisms were shocking to say the least.

Standing in front of her office, Draco nodded to her newest assistant a large boned girl named Gretel, and merely opened the door. It didn’t matter if she was busy, they had scheduled a lunch and he was always on time. She sat at her desk looking over missives and didn’t seem to notice that he was standing in the doorway looking like he had never spent so much time getting ready for a lunch date. Wearing black slacks with a form fitting coal gray dress shirt, the top buttons undone and his most expensive black travel cloak and robes, Draco thought he looked positively dashing. Only she would say otherwise.

“Granger,” he said, clearing his voice while still standing at the door, “Must you spend all day in the dark?”

He noticed how substantially different the lighting was in this room compared to where he was standing and in the other cubicles. The shades were drawn and the only light source was her billowing fire in the hearth nearby.

“I like working like this, you have to wait I’m not….” She began but wasn’t allowed to finish.

“No excuses,” Draco replied, striding over to the office where he placed his hand over the missive, “Lunch at twelve thirty and it is now twelve thirty one. Do I have to throw you over my shoulder or are you going to come willingly?”

She looked up at him with those sparkling doe eyes and smiled. Putting her papers down, Hermione stood and Draco finally caught a glance at what she was wearing. A light gray office skirt with a large black dragon hide belt secured around her waist, a white button up blouse with a few buttons undone showing her creamy skin. He hadn’t noticed but her hair looked softer and like a row of curls just falling over her shoulders like expensive silk curtains. He grinned she had dressed up for him, how quaint.

“I need to be back by two,” Hermione replied, walking over to grab her cloak, “I have a meeting with the Minister.”

“The Minister can wait for now, I don’t want to speak about work,” Draco waved his had dismissively, watching her pull her travel cloak on, a light shade of cream that lightened her eyes.

He sniffed and averted his eyes from staring too much. Hermione pulled her hair from under her cloak and looked back at him.

“Alright, whatever, no work,” Hermione shrugged, opening the door to her office, “Nothing spicy either, last time I smelled like garlic all day and that wasn’t very conductive to my cause when I’m talking to vampires.”

Draco laughed, “You had to order it because I threatened to snog you senseless. Offer is still up by the way.”

“Mmm,” Hermione rolled her eyes and didn’t bother taking the arm he offered, not that it phased him one bit. He was used to her lack of etiquette by now.

Holding the door open, Draco watched Hermione pass under his arm easily and tell Gretel that she was going out to lunch. Draco nodded curtly to the woman before winking, causing her to blush heavily and turn away. He loved getting that reaction from people, even though it didn’t work with Hermione. Damn.

“I was thinking Wizarding Paris for lunch,” Draco said walking closely beside Hermione, “My mum recently found a nice restaurant that I have been dying to try out and since you refuse my offers of dinner, lunch will have to do.”

“Do you always take your parents’ opinions of things into consideration?” Hermione asked, glancing up at him under her long lashes.

“Only when it is, as you say, ‘conductive to life,’ then yes,” Draco replied as they made their way to the large telephone booth that would transport them to the Apparation point.

He despised the Floor because it had the tendency to stick to his robes and after a while he’d smell like Floo powder. Apparating was far more acceptable and he quite enjoyed the feeling of being sucked through something small.

Draco held the door to the telephone booth open and stepped in. There were several people in there already and it made it look impossible for six, let alone two, people to fit inside a typical Muggle telephone booth from the outside. It was quite roomy inside and Draco found his usual place in the center of the booth, standing shoulder to shoulder with a man wearing a large filly hat. Apparently, he was going to the Muggle world and didn’t know what to wear. Dreadful.


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In the Light of the Sun
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The Bon Vivant Bistro was not only famous for its world renowned chef, a squib, but also for its décor, taste and expensive nature. It was located between two of the most expensive clothing stores, which Draco was a frequent customer of, in the entire area. Lopsided and towering over the shops, the bistro was an odd color of teak and gray. It looked like a mini cottage that had been squeezed from a tube to make it several stories and elongated. Lone green vines that had white jasmine flowers climbed over the massive bistro, making it look a bit out of place. Cherubs were seen floating through the air with trays of incense over families, couples, and the occasional out of town wizard or witch.

He heard Hermione groan beside him and glance down at her with a quirked eyebrow, “Don’t like my choice? You picked that abysmal fish and chips shop in Venice…Venice. We were in one of the most beautiful countries in the world and you picked fish and chips of all things.”

“Sorry that I’m not jumping over cauldrons,” Hermione grumbled, “I hate these types of expensive places. It makes me feel so…”

“Yes, well you don’t have to feel that not with me,” Draco interrupted, knowing how Hermione felt about such places but it was his turn to choose a restaurant and this was one of the best bistros in the area. When it came to dining her out, he’d never pick anything half-arsed.

“If I can’t read the menu then I will clobber you with it,” Hermione grinned wickedly, her doe eyes flickering with menace

“Deal,” Draco said, bringing his arm out to her, “Shall we?”

“Yup,” Hermione replied, again ignoring his arm and moving first.

He sighed and followed shortly, coming to stand in front of a tall toothpick of a man whom he assumed to be the maitre d’. The shallow man took one look at Draco and gasped. Speaking rapidly in French, he ushered the couple through the doors, nearly knocking over a few cherubs on the way to a table specifically reserved for Malfoys. He heard Hermione snort but didn’t look at her, only grinned.

Holding her chair out for her, Hermione plopped very much like some one who had never been to a fine dining restaurant and promptly placed her elbows on the table. The corner of his lip twitched but he could only laugh and sit across from her.

“I should’ve known you’d get that sort of reaction,” Hermione grumbled, looking at her glass of water.

“There are certain perks for being who I am,” Draco shrugged, “We didn’t have to wait for a table though.”

“Yes but the rest of the line did,” Hermione glanced toward the large crowd standing around for a table, “Don’t you feel rotten for taking some one’s table?”

“Honestly?” he quirked an eyebrow, “No. It’s a dragon-eat-dragon world out there, Granger. Applies even to lunch.”

She laughed when he grinned and shook her head, “Figures.”

“Your menu mademoiselle,” the maitre d’ said from beside them, handing her a single sheet of parchment that was enchanted to show actual photos of the food and roughly eighteen different translations.

“Thank you,” Hermione nodded, taking the menu and glancing it over, “Well, so much for being able to clobber you.”

Draco nodded to the maitre d’, who had apparently decided to take their table as his own, “That saves me from having to buy potions to ride myself of a black eye, thank Merlin.”

They chuckled together and looked over the menu in silence. After ordering their meal, in which Hermione didn’t hesitate to order something other than a salad, Draco and Hermione began bickering about Muggles. His fingers traced over the top of his wine glass as she decided to lay into him about his inability to understand that they are happy without magic. He couldn’t believe it for one second. It wasn’t that his thoughts of Muggles hadn’t changed over the years, it had, but he was still against assimilating into that culture as it were.

“They can do things without magic,” Hermione said, sipping her water, “You’re just assuming that they are incompetent…”

“I wasn’t assuming Muggles are incompetent, I was stating that they were,” Draco replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “I mean, traveling by Muggle transportation is far primitive.”

“You traveled on the Hogwarts Express, that is a type of Muggle transportion,” Hermione argued, stabbing her steak with her fork.

“That was unavoidable. Believe me, if there were any other way I would have taken it,” Draco shrugged, sipping at his expensive merlot, “I’m just saying, why is everyone so obsessed with Muggle culture? It’s like some kind of fashion choice all of a sudden. No more robes, all Muggle clothing.”

“That’s where we agree,” Hermione answered, “I find it silly and pedantic that wizards and witches only care about Muggle culture because they think it’s something cool. Ridiculous.”

“So you are agreeing that Muggles are ridiculous,” he grinned, twisting her words to his liking.

She glared at him and took a stab at her potatoes, making him wince as if he was imagining that was what she wanted to do to him at that moment.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive one day in the Muggle world,” Hermione was testing him and he knew it.

“Really?” Draco said, leaning back in his seat, “You really want to make that bet, Granger?”

“It’s the truth. You speak of how inferior Muggles are but have you spent one day in the Muggle world without a wand? Not just London but a real Muggle town.”

“Like where you live?” he quirked an eyebrow, watching her brows frown.

“Exactly,” Hermione replied, chewing slowly.

At least she finished eating before she spoke, which he couldn’t say about her little red headed friend. During school, he often looked over at the table and noticed the entire Weasel clan had the perchance to chew with their mouths full and hold conversations. Disgusting.

“Alright,” Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I’ll spend a day with you in the Muggle town…”

“Wh-What?” Hermione blinked at him, clearly she was going through her conversations in her mind to see when she agreed or even offered to take him out in the Muggle world.

“You too afraid that I’d fit in like a king, eh?” Draco prodded, watching her clench her jaw.

“Of course not,” Hermione replied, “If, if you’re going to spend a day in my town then you have to follow my rules.”

“Which would be?”

“No magic.”

“Doable.”

“No robes.”

“Muggle clothing? Hm, not my preference but feasible.”

He’d have to rummage through his mother’s Muggle magazines to see what they wore. Merely going into a shop and requesting Muggle wear was not exactly what he wanted to do. It had to be discrete. After all, a Malfoy wearing Muggle clothing was unconscionable and just plain weird.

“No mentioning anything to do with the magical world.”

“Because I want people to think I’m daft,” he snorted.

“And you have to listen and do what I say.”

“No game.”

“What?” Hermione blinked at him and frowned, “I’m not going to let you run amok…”

“I’m not going to ‘run amok’ in your little town, Granger,” Draco said with a slight sneer, “If anything, I’ll just endure it and show that I can too survive in such a place…without magic.”

“If you say so,” Hermione grinned into her glass as she took a sip, “I’m warning you though…It can get a little frustrating for some one who hasn’t been exposed to Muggle culture. When I took Ron to a state fair I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.”

“What is a state fair?” Draco asked, leaning in slightly, “And I’d hardly think I should be compared to Weasel.”

“Oh never mind,” Hermione rolled her eyes and glared at her meal as if it had insulted her mother.

“So, this weekend then? I head up to Ireland next week for our game,” Draco smiled, “You should come if you’re not busy.”

“I’m not a fan of watching Quidditch and…” Hermione quickly stammered, eyes darting around the table and not able to lock onto his.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Granger,” Draco laughed, “There’s really no need to get nervous around me.”

“I’m not nervous!” Hermione snapped, a little too loudly for the quite restaurant. She bit her bottom lip as a few patrons looked at them and sank in her chair, causing Draco to laugh.

She smiled shyly and sat back up where they both began laughing a little at her error. His eyes sparkled when they were met with her chocolate brown gems and he watched a slight shade of pink cross the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Draco extended a hand, resting it lightly on hers where his thumb slowly caressed the softness of the top of her hand.


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I’ll be at Your Window Begging for More
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Rain began to drizzle over the small bistro after the pair finished their meal. Draco shrugged his traveling cloak off to drape it over Hermione but she was insistent that she didn’t need it. So much for chivalry, he thought, pulling his cloak back on. Draco brought his hand to her lower back and gently led her outside where they came face to face with a throng of drenched photographers.

“Bugger,” Draco moaned, prying his hand away from her back to grab onto her hand, “Let’s just get out of this quickly.”

“Draco! Draco!” a photographer shouted, snapping several pictures of Draco trying to push his way through the crowd while holding onto Hermione’s hand. “Is that Hermione Granger?”

“Blimey! It is!” another shouted and there was a sudden draw of flashing lights.

Draco spun around, prepared to pull his wand out and hex the idiots but felt Hermione grasp onto his hand tightly and pull.

“C’mon!” she shouted, pulling him to a run.

They were chased, literally chased, through the cobble stone streets. Draco over took Hermione, still holding onto her hand as the rain pelted them and flashed echoed around them. He heard Hermione laugh when he stepped and nearly fell in a large puddle, effectively getting his brand new dragon hide shoes drenched with muddy water. Draco found himself laughing as well as they bolted through crowds with photographers following.

“In here,” Draco breathed, pulling Hermione with him into a sheltered alleyway situated near the Apparation point, which was crowded with people trying to leave the rain. He pinned Hermione against the wall, both chests heaving, as the throng of photographers passed by. Looking down at her with water dripped from the tip of his nose, her own hair matted down with water, Draco leaned forward.

“I think they’re gone,” Hermione was quick to say, moving her face when his lips were mere inches from hers, “We can…”

“They’re going to be camped out there for awhile,” Draco replied, leaning back, “I think I twisted my ankle in that ruddy puddle.”

“And here I thought you were a great Quidditch player,” she laughed, as he snaked his arms around her waist.

“In the air, I’m unstoppable but the ground and I don’t necessarily agree with one another,” Draco shrugged, looking over the edge to see where the throng had disappeared to.

“Draco…”

“Mmm?” he hummed, turning to look at her where his eyes widened.

Her face was flushed, cheeks pink from the icy spray of the rain and something else. He felt her hand trace over his wet chest and snake into his hair. Before he knew it, he was leaning down, pressing his lips against hers lightly. Softly nipping at her lips with tiny crackling pops, Draco brought a hand to the nape of her neck and held her closer.

She tasted like lemon water and sugar. He liked it. Hermione grasped onto the back of his head, tilting her mouth slightly to deepen the kiss. He retaliated by pushing her against the wall with a small thud, tracing his tongue over her lips. When he felt her lips part, Draco took the initiative and snuck his tongue into her mouth, rolling it with hers. He heard her moan against the kiss and felt a certain straining of his pants. He groaned and tried to hide his excitement but it was no use.

Draco and Hermione parted for their kiss slowly, eyes twinkling as the rain fell around them. He smiled, as did she, and grasped onto her hand. Looking over the edge, Draco took a running chance and darted out with Hermione, running awkwardly with his hardened length bobbing quietly. The throng emerged from their shelter as they reached the Apparation point. Swinging around, Draco grasped onto Hermione and disappeared with a blink.

They arrived back at a large flat he owned in Paris. Hermione looked around as Draco pulled his coat from him.

“I got this a few years back,” Draco explained, draping his coat over a chair. “It’s small..smaller…but I like it.”

“Mmm,” Hermione nodded, shrugging out of her coat when Draco pulled it from her to let it dry.

When she turned to look at him, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. To his surprise, she quickly responded by snaking her hands around his waist. He groaned into the kiss, drinking from her mouth, as he slowly pushed her toward his bedroom. The rain crackled around them but it didn’t matter as he soon slowly pushed her against the large white bed of his.

Hermione brought her hands to his shirt and pried it off as if it were a second skin. He pulled off her belt and slowly unzipped her skirt, tossing it to the floor. Their mouths crashed against one another as he pulled her shirt from her and unclasped his belt buckle. Hermione moaned into the kiss and rolled him onto his back, straddling him gently. Her doe eyes were lit with lust and flame as she pried her bra from her form, letting the warm air surround her. Draco’s eyes skimmed over her body, marveling at it. His eyes lingered on the small scar tracing over her and brought his fingers to it.

She winced at his touch but allowed his fingers to follow the smooth glossy skin. Bringing his lips to her throat, Draco nipped at her skin. “You’re beautiful, all of you.”

He held onto her back and groaned as her hips bucked against him, rubbing her centre against his growing bulge. Draco traced kissed up her throat to her lips, drinking from her mouth as he brought a hand between him to free himself. Hermione moved and with a unison moan, sank onto his erection. They rocked against one another slowly at first, building up a quick rhythm soon after.

Her fingers sank into his shoulders with bruising force as he ground her on top of him. He grunted when she pushed him back and brought her hands to his chest, her body rolling over him quicker. Draco parted his lips for a breath, felling her slick cunt surround his length. His fingers dug into her hips as he met her rhythm by thrusting upward.

“Draco,” she moaned, throwing her head back in such an exotic way that Draco felt his balls tighten at the sight.

He panted and leaned back against the bed, wincing when her nails bit into his chest that left small crescent shapes in his skin. It was only a matter of time before their needs overtook the sensuality of the moment. He groaned while thrusting upward, pulling her to him where their lips met and her breasts brushed against his chest. Her moans filled the air, urging him to completion when she cried out. Her slick walls clenched around him, sucking every inch in greedily. Draco bit his own growl as his balls tightened and he sprayed her walls with his hot seed, letting out a guttal gasp.

Hermione brought her face to the crook of his neck, running her hands over his muscular arms. Both panted heavily, just laying there for a few moments.

“I’m going to be late,” Hermione whispered after a moment, her breath still missing.

“I can always talk to your supervisor…I’m sure I can get you off the hook if you want to stay longer,” Draco panted, running his fingers through her hair.

“Mmm, I have a meeting remember?”

“Damn,” Draco sighed as Hermione rolled from him and sat at the edge of the bed.

Draco pulled his wand out and cleaned both of them while Hermione muttered a contraceptive charm, stroking her stomach lightly. He merely quirked an eyebrow when their eyes met and she flushed scarlet. It was obvious that she was envious of her friends – most of who were on the train to diapers and vomit. As much as he eventually wanted to have children, right now was not the time, and he figured she felt the same.

They dressed in silence and by the time they reached the living room, their coats had dried and the rain let up. Draco brought his hand to hers as they Disapparated on his front porch to the Ministry. Hermione quickly pulled her hand from him and led the way. His nose twitched at her inability to acknowledge that they just shagged and knew she probably blocked that moment from her mind. Bugger.

He followed her lightly and held the door for her when they returned to her office. Hermione spun around and smiled.

“I had a nice lunch, thank you,” she said, causing Draco to stare at her with a tad bit of disbelief.

“Er..right..I had fun too,” Draco said awkwardly, “This weekend then?”

“For?” Hermione raised an eyebrow then remembered, “Oh, yes. Don’t forget our…”

“Yes, I remember,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her but she backed away and extended a hand.

“Bye,” she said awkwardly, to which Draco merely shook her hand and turned on his heel.

“One of these days, Granger,” he said before leaving, “You’re going to have to acknowledge that I’m not the same bloke from school…and that no one really cares anymore.”

He left before she could say another word and closed the door tightly behind him. Looking to Gretel, Draco nodded curtly and pulled his dragon hide gloves on before leaving. Women. What could you do with them? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Damn.


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Author’s Note
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Ok, so I have to explain a little about Hermione’s reactions after their little moment so people don’t hate her or me. In the first part of her POV, she mentions him ‘once’ trying to go in for a kiss but instead she gives him a handshake and this was particularly why. She’s obviously confused, attracted, and unsure about her relationship with Draco. He understands it more than he is willing to let on, but finds it more frustrating than not. Why is she denying she has feelings for him? Think about it. They hated each other in school and now that they’re showing a form of attraction to one another, it’s kind of making her go into denial. So, hopefully you don’t hate me for the way she’s treating Draco. She cares for him, he knows it – evident from his last lines to her.