Something In The Way She Moves

Chapter 3: The Blues









Draco sat on his sofa, his fingers idly plucking the strings of the guitar resting in his lap. It had been over twenty-four hours since he had spent the night with Hermione Granger and he hadn’t heard from her since she had fallen asleep in his arms. When he woke late the following day she was gone, only a muffin and a cup of coffee charmed to stay hot sat on his nightstand. Not note, no message, no sign of her whatsoever.







Normally it wouldn’t bother him, women were great but when the sex was over it was over, he rarely saw a woman more than once. But with Hermione it bothered him that she had just left. He liked her, had brought her to his home and he couldn’t deny that the sex was incredible. Granger was a little hesitant, a little slow to warm up but once she got there she was a regular little spitfire.







He set the guitar aside, bored with himself as the only thing he was motivated to play were the blues. He wanted to see her again but doubted she would come back into the pub. That left him with only one choice; he had to go to her. He glanced down at his watch, it was almost eleven AM, she would be at work. He looked over at the dog lying curled up on the cushion beside him, its pathetic visage staring up at him.







“I don’t understand women, Studly.” He said, scratching the dog behind its ear. “It was good between us, un-fucking-believable in fact. So why did she get up and run out?” The dog looked completely uninterested. “Come to think of it, why didn’t you stop her?” Studly whined and Draco thought he seemed repentant so he gave him another good scratch before he got up off of the sofa and went to his bedroom.





He would need to change his clothes before he went to the Ministry, it wouldn’t do for a Malfoy to show up in muggle jeans and a white tee-shirt. He stepped into the oversized wardrobe and withdrew a set of lightweight robes. Simple black trousers with a very fine silver pinstripe, light gray button down shirt and a solid black robe over that. Nothing quite as elaborate as his father would wear, but elegant, tailored, an ensemble befitting a Malfoy.







As he dressed he realized that Hermione wouldn’t care one way or the other that he had taken the time to change, that he made the effort to look nice when he came to see her. No doubt she would be shocked to see him. He combed his hair and tucked his wand into his sleeve. He flipped open a box on his bureau, one side contained a handful of muggle currency while the other was filled with galleons. He tossed a handful of the gold coins into his pocket, smiling when he jingled slightly.





He walked through the living room towards the large, ornate fireplace, stopping only to pat his beloved pet on the top of his head before reaching into a ceramic jar atop the mantel for the floo powder and stepping through to the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. He held his head high as he strolled through the halls of the government building, that famous Malfoy smirk on his lips as he ignored the curious stares of others.







He stepped up the information kiosk and waited for the blue haired woman behind the desk to acknowledge him. He cleared his throat impatiently and with an annoyed sigh she looked up.





“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, how may I be of service to you sir?” She said in a bored tone.





“The offices of Hermione Granger, please.” Draco said, his tone much like his father’s. He didn’t often use his name or his family’s status to his advantage, but sometimes one had to use whatever tools were at their disposal.





“And who is requesting this information?” She asked as she skimmed her finger down an impossibly long roll of parchment.







“Draco Malfoy.” He said, seeing the surprise register on the woman’s face.





“Department Of Magical Research, thirteenth floor, suite 77B.” She said. Draco offered a tight smile, not bothering to thank the rude woman for the information as he turned and headed towards the lifts.





He noticed that people kept their distance in the lift car. No one wanted to get too close to a Malfoy; it was as if they thought that the dark mark was contagious. Not that anyone believed it when they heard that he didn’t have one. He didn’t let it bother him, he just assumed the regal, Malfoy bearing he had been raised with, set his shoulders back, his head held high, and he stared down his nose at them all. It was what they expected after all.





After a long and rather irritating journey on the lifts the doors finally opened onto his floor. He stepped out, swatting at one of the black inter office memos that buzzed his head on the way. He walked the long corridor reading the signs on the outside of the suites as he went until he found the one he wanted.





When he stepped inside he was somewhat stunned to find the office so small, though he supposed the actual research was done in labs somewhere in a restricted area of the building and that the offices were primarily used for management. He stepped up to reception and waited for the black haired witch sitting behind the desk to turn around. She was typing from the sound of it, though the key clicking was slow, one little click of the typewriter key between extensive pauses.





Draco cleared his throat and the woman turned abruptly in her chair with a scowl on her face. Her heavily painted lips spread into a smile the moment she saw him.





“Well hello, Drakie.” She purred. “Long time no see.”





“Hello, Pansy.” He said, mentally wondering what he had ever seen in her. “I should have recognized you.”





“How, all you saw was the back of my head.” She said with a confused look.





“Well you always did look better from the back.” He said snidely. “I’m here to see Granger, where is her office?”





Pansy gave him an annoyed look that made her pug faced look even more smooshed. She really wasn’t attractive, but she had been easy and he had been young. A hole was a hole was a hole back then; he was far more selective now.





“Why would you want to see her?” She asked, her lips curled in disgust.





“I want to take her to tea, now where is she? And what are you doing here, come to think of it?” He asked.





“Marlon, husband number three, said I needed to work to gain appreciation for the privileged life I lead or something like that, I don’t know, I’m only temping until he restores my access to the vault.” She said. Draco knew all about Pansy from his parents. She was on her third, wealthy and elderly husband in ten years. She married the old codgers and when they died she went through their money like water, getting herself hitched to another as soon as funds began running low. His father called her a Black Widow. “You know…it’s my lunch hour, maybe instead of seeing old smarty pants Granger you and I could go somewhere and get reacquainted.” She said, licking her lips.





“No thanks, Pansy.” Draco said, thinking he might vomit at the thought. “Granger’s office?”





“Your loss.” She said with a pout. “She’s right over there.” Pansy pointed to the door across the hall.







Draco didn’t bother thanking her or even excusing himself; he just turned and headed towards his goal. As he walked he was still trying to figure out just exactly what his goal was. He knew he wanted to see her again; he most certainly wanted to have sex with her again, but why? What was it about Granger that made her the exception to his one night only rule?





He lost that train of thought the moment he stepped up to her office, the door was open and she was standing behind her desk, her back to him as she stared down at something in her hand. She was bathed in light from the window charmed to show a sunny day over a field of wildflowers. She placed whatever she had been scanning onto a wide ledge and stretched, her arms high above her head as she arched her back and groaned. The sound went straight through him; he remembered that sound, vividly.





He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly going dry as she gathered up all of that incredible curly hair and began twisting it onto a knot at the back of her head. He watched with unabashed joy as she plucked a quill from a box and shoved it through, securing the bun. He walked slowly towards her and did what he had been dreaming of since his fourth year at Hogwarts; he leaned in and licked the back of her neck.







Hermione squealed and turned around quickly, falling into the ledge behind her when she felt the wet, hot slide of something along her neck. She stared up into a pair of shining silver eyes and held her breath.





“I’ve wanted to do that since I was a boy.” He said. “Another fantasy fulfilled.”







“Draco? What are you doing here?” She asked, her eyes darting around the room nervously as though she were looking for the quickest escape route. She wasn’t expecting to see him again, ever, definitely not in her office.





“I wanted to see you.” He said, cocking his head to the side a little. “You ran out on me while I was sleeping, Granger.”





“I’m….uh….sorry about that….had someplace to be.” She stammered wishing she could back up but the damned wall was in her way.







Draco nearly smiled and stared down at her. She looked rather fetching in her button down black blouse and wide legged trousers. From his height he could easily see the enticing swells of plump breasts, their curve accentuated by the long beaded necklace currently curled around one delectable globe. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was heaving as she tried to figure out what to do next.







“Oh? You could have left a note you know. The coffee and muffin were a nice touch.” He said, reaching up to run the backs of his fingers along her cheek. She flinched at first, then her eyes closed and she made the softest little keening sound when his fingers brushed over her ear. “Did you use me for sex, Granger?”





Her eyes snapped open and her lips parted on a gasp as her hands came up to press against his chest and push him backwards. Her shock was wearing off quickly and her nerve was being restored.







“Of course not! Why would I do something like that?” She shoved past him and made her way to a clear area of her office closer to the door. Draco came around the desk and leaned back against the edge.







“I don’t know. I thought we had a great time, amazing actually, one of the best if not the best, I have ever had.” He said softly. “Then I wake up all alone.”





Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that this beautiful man had tracked her down or frightened. She was already suffering the guilt of having gone to bed with a man she didn’t really know very well, a man she had no relationship with, at least not one based on any tender feelings. She still wasn’t sure what had made her do it. She had always harbored a bit of a tendre for the school bad boy, what young girl didn’t want the rebel, but she never dreamed it would come to anything, especially a decade later.







“Draco…look, I didn’t know it was your place…” She shifted her gaze and began to pace nervously. “I just went in for a drink and to listen to the music. Then…well there you were!”







“So you decided to seduce me?” He asked, amused by her fidgeting as she tried to explain her actions. As though he cared what brought her to his bed as long as he got her back there soon.





“NO! I just…I got caught up in the moment I guess…I just wanted to feel something, anything…I wanted to be wanted, to feel beautiful and to…well to feel cherished.” She frowned at her own neediness.







“And did you?” He asked as he pushed away from her desk and came closer to her. “Did I make you feel all those things?”





“Yes.” Her breath hitched when he stood toe to toe with her.







“Then why did you leave?” He asked, his hand coming to her waist while the other toyed with the string of beads around her throat.





“It couldn’t go anywhere.” She squeaked when his knuckles brushed against her breast.







“Says who? Did you think it was a one night stand, Granger?” He asked.







“Yes.”







“Wrong. I don’t take one night stands to my home.” He said softly. “I told you that. I’ve wanted you for a long time, Granger, and I find that once wasn’t nearly enough.”







“Draco, stop…you can’t mean to…” She closed her eyes and whimpered when his lips brushed along the side of her neck. “Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?” She moaned.







“When have you known me to be able to just let something go, Granger?” He asked softly. “I’m not letting you go until I have had enough of you.” He whispered, biting into her earlobe before stepping back and putting some space between them. They were in her office after all. She shook her head and sighed, her eyes opening slowly.





“Why are you here? To torment me with my bad behavior?” She asked, not believing for one second that he suddenly found her irresistible.





“I came to take you to lunch.” He said with a mischievous smile.







“Draco, I don’t …I can’t, I have a meeting this afternoon I need to prepare for.” She said, indicating the stack of files on her desk.







“Come on, just a little bite, I’ll have you back in a flash.” He smiled.







“I can’t.” She said. “And if you think I’m riding on that monster of yours again you have lost your mind!”







They heard the stunned gasp of someone in the hall; no doubt it was Parkinson listening in.





“I floo’d in to see you.” He said chuckling. “The bike is still at home. Assuming that was the monster you refer to.”





Hermione’s cheeks grew hot as she became flustered in her embarrassment.







“Of course I was talking about that blasted motorbike!” She snapped, stepping around him and heading for her chair.







“That’s a relief. So does that mean that you are interested in riding the other monster again? Hopefully soon.” He looked at her with such a pleading, puppy dog expression that she couldn’t help but laugh.





“You are incorrigible.” She said, shaking her head.





Just then Pansy decided to enter the office and toss a document onto the desk. She didn’t say anything; she only sneered at Hermione then flounced from the room in an angry huff. Seemed she had heard enough to get that Draco and Hermione were more than casual acquaintances and no longer enemies.







Hermione looked over the document and sighed, reaching for a quill and a pot of red ink.





“I didn’t realize Parkinson could type.” Draco said, standing beside her and staring down at the paper.







“She can’t.” Hermione grouched as she went over the paper and corrected it with a smattering of red ink that would have made Professor Snape smile. He had loved to correct papers and show his students what idiots they were. “Draco, I can’t have lunch with you, seriously. I have a lot of work to get done yet and as you can see the only way it will get done accurately is if I do it myself.” She said.





“Alright, dinner then.” He said stubbornly.







“Draco…” She looked up at him and saw the determined glint in his eyes. “Fine, I will be home around six, why don’t you come for dinner at seven.”







“Come for dinner? You mean you are going to cook for me?” He asked, his brows shooting up in interest.







“Is that a problem? I don’t feel like going out and I need to be in bed at a decent time.”







“No…I just never had a woman cook for me before. My mother doesn’t cook.” He said smiling, eager for the evening.







“Well I am happy to be able to offer you a unique experience.” She said. Draco took the quill from her hand and pulled her to her feet.





“So far, everything about you and I has been a unique experience for me.” He said softly. “Give me a kiss, Granger.”







“No, Draco, not here.” She protested, glancing over at the door where she could see Pansy watching them from behind the reception desk.





“Kiss me, or I won’t leave.” He said fingering the beaded necklace again. “Why are you wearing fake pearls?”







“I work for a living, Draco; I can’t afford real ones of this length.” She said.







“Why do they need to be so long?” he asked, lifting them up and sliding them around his own neck, looping them together with the white beads. “Oh…I see, so you can keep blokes from running off when you wish to have your way with them.” He smiled.







“You are an idiot.” She laughed. “You need to go.”







“Kiss me.” He said. She gave him a quick, hard smooch.







“There, now leave.”







“Not good enough.” He said, shaking his head. “Give me a proper kiss, Granger. One to hold me over till later.” He said, challenging her with his heated stare.







Hermione never was one to back down from a challenge. She clasped the back of his head and tugged him down until their lips met. She opened her mouth and tilted her head, sealing her lips over his as she devoured him. Her tongue penetrated, dueling and fighting against his as he sucked on her lips. His hands clenched at her hips and he growled as she ravished his mouth, giving and taking voraciously until she wrenched her mouth away to catch her breath.





“God damn, Granger.” He breathed, staring at her plump, wet lips.







“Leave, Draco.” She said, softly, wishing she could go with him. Her kiss had backfired on her a little; it had excited her just as much as it had him.





“Yeah, I’m going. Just tell me where you live.” He said, sliding her necklace from around his neck and stepping back.





“I’ll open the floo connection.” She said softly. “My home is called Rosewood Cottage.”







“I’ll be there.” He said, his hand resting on her throat, feeling her pulse pound beneath his fingers. “You are something else.”







With a soft, lingering brush of his lips against hers he left her office, ignoring the gap mouthed look of shock on Pansy’s face as he passed by her.