Nicest Thing

A/N: After working out how I want the story to go, I feel that this is a little clichéd type of fic but sometimes we need a little cliché to make us smile. I was smiling throughout this entire chapter. Hopefully you all will too! If this is well received then I might be up to typing out this entire story through Draco’s point of view. Tell me what you think. It all depends on YOU! =)

Listened to Kate Nash’s Merry Happy as background music. Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qf4Ea59Uods

Smurphy – We’re all seeing, or reading, this from Hermione’s perspective so to her it was a ‘one night stand’ so we never really know what’s going through Draco’s mind. Maybe he’s just really clean…maybe there’s more. Maybe Draco has a pet peeve around leaving tea bags on the floor? Hmmm. We have to wait and see!

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Several weeks passed quickly since Hermione even heard a word from Draco, beyond the whisper of her name that faithful night they spent together. It didn’t take long for her to forget all about that ‘dreadful’ night and she had wholly convinced herself that whatever they did was as a result of the emotional aspects of a wedding. Since when was it uncommon for people to get together for a romantic liaison after experiencing an event of pure joy and happiness? Malfoy had mentioned how Harry ‘did right’ with Ginny and she was almost certain she heard a pang of envy for her best friend. Perhaps he just needed a good shag to get his mind off of the entire situation. It wasn’t very un-Malfoy for him not to, she expected it after all. Didn’t she?

Waking up as she normally did, Hermione set out to feed Crookshanks, brew her morning cup of tea, eat toast with cheese while reading the Prophet. She always skimmed over the Quidditch reports. Not for any signs of Malfoy, but because Ginny had been promoted to the correspondent after her last year of playing with the Harpies as star player. Hermione always figured it was because the ginger haired girl wanted to settle down after pinning Harry to her waistcoat and that Quidditch had grown from a favorite pastime to something she found a little dull.

Hermione chewed her toast a little more angrily when she stared at a picture of Malfoy holding up the golden snitch at the last game. He smiled handsomely while being hoisted by his team mates and Hermione had the inner feeling to torch the paper but she hesitated. She had more reason than that. Wearing her heart on her sleeve was dangerous. So what if she found that night with Malfoy the best night she had? She obviously wasn’t meant to be more than a quick shag or else he would have stayed, had breakfast and… And what? Get married, have kids? No. Never.

She sniffed and closed the paper rather forcefully, finishing the last bit of her toast and tea. Hermione rose from her seat and threw her dishes into the sink before preparing for work. She stepped over a sleeping Crooks and headed to her closet where she pulled on a dark navy blue cloak and tied the sash together. Hermione stared into her closet for a moment before slamming it, her eyes meeting the bright emerald ones of her cat.

“It wasn’t even that great, Crooks!” Hermione snapped at the cat, who yawned and put his head back onto his paws.

He gave her a look as to say, ‘keep telling yourself that’ and drifted off into his morning nap. Hermione rolled her eyes and fixed the collar of her blouse before leaving for work. Stupid rotten Malfoy. Ruining her perfect mornings every day for the past several weeks. Oh how she hated and loathed him.

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After the initial inquiries about the wedding had ended within a week and Hermione found herself back into the usual routine of examining laws and drafting new ones. She Apparated into the Ministry along all others and casually walked through the crowd, holding onto her black satchel containing her lunch and several…hundred…documents she had been looking over during her days off. Whoever said Hermione didn’t take her work home with her clearly ate too many pumpkin pastries during their years at Hogwarts. There wasn’t a time where she DIDN’T take her work home with her. It beat sitting around doing nothing while her best friends were off romancing their respected spouse/girlfriend.

Hermione nearly collided into the back of an older gentleman when a large photo of Draco Malfoy filled the center of the lobby of the Ministry. They had removed the large fountain in exchange for something that reminded her of a large projector which continuously updated the incoming crowd on the news around the wizarding world. Currently Draco’s Falmouth Falcons were plastered all over with the smug, handsome Draco smiling into the crowd.

She grunted with disgust as a few colleagues stood by the former fountain and swooned, their hands clasped together as they stared at him. Managing to push past the idiotic chits, Hermione thought she overheard one of them mention how he was in town before their next game. Like she cared. He was probably attending another wedding, looking for some girl to invite him to tea, never actually drink said tea, and roll around on her bedspread before leaving without so much as a word.

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She worked endlessly for three hours and despite the protests of her colleagues, who had been trying to get her to go out to lunch with them for ages, Hermione found herself buried head deep in stacks of paperwork. She was currently working on a law, entitled Moony’s Law, which would give those with lycanthropy with the same rights as normal wizards. Remus had expressed how proud he was of her on numerous occasions and even went so far as to help her with what she couldn’t find in books. This law was one of her most prized documents and she wanted to make it perfect.

There was a light tapping on her door but when Hermione looked up, she could only see the shadow of a tall figure through the glossed over window. Her stacks of paper, neatly organized and color coded, blocked some of her view but she figured it was just another colleague trying to get her to go to lunch.

“I’m a little busy right at the moment,” Hermione said loudly as she floundered a few documents on her desk, her quill resting beside her after non-stop scratching. If it breathed, she was sure it would be panting by now.

The door pulled open none the less, causing Hermione to scowl. People just didn’t get a hint did they? She rose from her seat to tell the person to leave in a more firm tone but felt her throat catch. It wasn’t a colleague asking her to lunch, it was Draco Malfoy.

He looked completely different than he did at the wedding, but he still looked bloody gorgeous. Standing in front of her desk wearing a dark cloak, a black turtle neck, black slacks with a silver engraved serpent belt buckle, was the man she had been thinking about for weeks. Oh how she loathed him. He looked as if he had stepped out of Witch Weekly’s Best Dressed and Most Shaggable. She was sure the eyes on the serpent on his belt buckle were real emeralds. Of course Draco Malfoy didn’t wear cheap clothing, since when had he ever

Hermione brought her eyes back to him and stared at his complexion. He looked like he had been chiseled from marble with flawless skin, square jaw, and beautiful cobalt blue eyes. Stiffening her posture, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

“Yes? Can I help you?” She asked, trying to mask a quiver when the corners of his lips curved up into that Malfoy smile.

“I was told you worked in this office. Should have guessed I wouldn’t be able to see you with all of these…papers around.” He waved a hand around the room and gave a half laugh.

“Some people actually work, Malfoy,” Hermione said, taking her wand and waving it into the air as the drawers around her room slammed shut, clearing up the room more.

“You saying I don’t work? Flying on a broom, trying to catch a ball the size of a walnut and avoid killing bludgers sure sound like work to me,” He grinned, obviously enjoying Hermione’s state of aggravation.

“No, of course.” She found herself replying, trying to look at ease in her office, despite the fact that Draco bloody Malfoy was standing there oozing with sex. “So, what can I do for you? I doubt you’re wondering about Dobby’s Act.”

“I’m hardly interested in what you do,” Draco said, waving his hand dismissively before pocketing them into his robes, “I’m in town for a few weeks before we head off to Kenmare to play against their team.”

“So I heard,” Hermione nodded, “Congratulations on winning your match last week.”

Draco’s smile erupted across his face which caused Hermione to blush slightly. She cleared her throat with her fist to her mouth and looked around as an awkward silence filled the room.

“Thank you,” Draco finally replied, “I’m not here to gloat though. I wanted to take you out to lunch.”

“Are you asking me to go to lunch with you?” Hermione asked with a shocked expression, her hand slipping from the desk. She quickly caught herself before she tumbled onto the ground and held herself up, trying not to seem too shocked.

He nodded, “I guess so. A lovely young woman tried to tell me that you never go out to lunch but then again…I’m always up for a challenge.”

She snorted, “You should’ve taken her to lunch then. I’m busy at the moment.” Hermione grabbed a few slips of parchment and pretended to read them, she already had. Six times.

“She did offer to be my…date…” Draco said, taking a step closer to Hermione. He placed his hands on the top of the parchment and pulled it from her, “But I’d rather go to lunch with you.”

Hermione looked up at him and struggled to hold her composure. She could hear the whispers and snickers of people behind Draco as they eavesdropped in on their conversation. She gritted her teeth and brought her fingers to her eyes. She didn’t want to go to lunch with Draco. She had a lot of things to do. Schedules to keep and people to call. Ok, so she had been ahead of schedule for months and those people she had to call included a Chinese take away restaurant at the edge of the harbor she normally ordered from.

“Draco, if you think…” Hermione said harshly, but quietly well aware of the admirers in the office.

“I don’t think anything,” Draco cut her off, he had a nasty habit of doing that and it was annoying her, “I’m just offering to take you to lunch. Either you go or you don’t. Hermione.”

The way he emphasized her name made her knees go week, but she held herself up via her desk and scowled.

“Fine, but I have to be back within an hour,” Hermione said, grabbing for her cloak but finding that Draco had already pulled it from the hook and held it out for her.

She sneered and was helped into her cloak, buttoning the top up before looking at him, “You know I can’t just be gallivanting around all day. My boss wouldn’t be too…”

“Oh hello Hermione,” came the voice of a large breasted woman with dark hair pulled up into a tight bun. “You going out to lunch, finally? You know I’ve been trying to get this young thing out of this office since she came here.”

The lady looked to Draco and grinned, “Of course, I’m not nearly as dashing as you are, Mr. Malfoy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes when Draco took her hand and brought his lips to the top of it, “I do believe you are quite appealing.”

Her boss blushed purple and cleared her throat, “I overheard you talking about an hour lunch? I believe you haven’t taken lunch for a long time, take all the time you need. I shant expect you back for two…” she eyed Draco, who had come to stand behind Hermione, “Three hours minimum.”

The curly-haired witch groaned inwardly as her boss smiled at Draco and left. She brought her hand to her face and shook her head. Looking through her fingers at Draco, he smirked down at her.

“You heard the lady, two…three hours minimum.” He wriggled his eyebrows, causing a few girls around them to giggle but Hermione to turn bright red and try to hide it.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” She groaned, watching him offer his arm which she reluctantly took.