I'm on a one-shot streak. I really need to focus on my original writing for a while, but I just can't seem to drag myself away from all the Dramione goodness. If you enjoy this, please leave a review!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling rules all.

"I cannot believe you're friends with him, Harry." Hermione paced in front of Harry's desk, more than a little jealous of how big his office was as Head of the Aurora Division.

Harry watched her, a smirk on his face that made her growl in frustration.

"You're even starting to make faces like him." She threw up her hands and finally fell into one of his office chairs. Damn, it was comfortable. She thought about her tiny office with one tiny window and uncomfortable chairs, all of it just across the hall from the subject of her anger. "It's just, does he have to join us tonight? It's usually just the three of us."

Harry leaned forward, a smile replacing his smirk. "Actually, there'll be a few more."

Hermione's head fell back and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who then?"

"Well," Harry said, clearing his throat, "Ginny'll be in on break from the Harpies. And Neville's visiting, with Luna."

"Oh, Luna and Neville!" Hermione's head popped up and her face brightened. "That will be lovely."

"Yes." He smiled, then averted his gaze. "And Ron, of course. He's asked to bring a date."

Hermione's smile fell and she groaned, leaning her head back again to stare at an interestingly-shaped water stain on the ceiling. It looked a bit like Snape's profile, and she felt a surge of sadness for the man who'd died over five years ago to protect Harry.

"Who?" Hermione hated that her voice sounded sad. It wasn't that she was upset things hadn't worked out with Ron - she'd been the one to end it, after all - it was that anytime he dated, he and Harry got awkward and strange and treated her like something that might break.

"Er, Daphne. Daphne Greengrass. She was in our year at school."

At this, Hermione's head popped up. "She was in Slytherin, wasn't she?"

"She was." Harry met her gaze, and there was that I-don't-want-you-to-get-hurt look that made her so angry. "Malfoy introduced them, I think."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "All right then. Who else is coming?" She huffed as she sat back.

"You. And then of course, Malfoy."

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. "And who else then?"

"Oh. Er. No one else."

Hermione was the Brightest Witch of Her Age. She could, therefore, do basic math, and right now, she was counting three couples, and two singles. It felt like a set up.

"Before you say anything," Harry said, standing with his hands out. "I am not setting you up. I told Malfoy he could bring a date, and he said he wasn't seeing anyone. And that was after, of course, I knew you'd be coming. It just worked out this way." He leaned back on the desk in front of her, his face apologetic. "Please, say you'll come."

"Oh, Harry." She pursed her lips and leaned forward as she stood, patting his shoulder as she did so. "It's your birthday. Of course I'll be there."

He broke out in a brilliant smile, and she kissed his cheek before leaning back and pointing her finger in his face. "As long as you are not a setting me up!"

"I'm not!" he said, hands in front of his face as if to guard himself. "Promise."

She smiled then, and nodded. "Brilliant. Where is it again?"

"We're going to meet at The Three Broomsticks at 7," he said with a sheepish grin. "I like to take Ginny there whenever I can. It's where we had our first date."

Hermione smiled even as she felt a pang of loneliness, but she brushed it aside.

"See you then, Harry." She left his office, and quickly made her way down the hall that led to her own tiny office space.

She worked as an evidence analyst for the Auror Division. She got to help bring in stray Death Eaters while doing what she did best - research. The only downside to her otherwise perfect job was that she had been assigned a partner in the form of Draco Malfoy, who, she hated to admit, was excellent at his job.

She entered her office, closing the door behind her quietly so he wouldn't know she'd come back, and she sat heavily in her chair.

Alone in the safety of her tiny office, she let that pang of loneliness she'd felt in Harry's office rear its ugly head. Truly, it was always there, just below the surface, but she'd gotten good at repressing and ignoring it.

Hermione closed her eyes and let the loneliness wash over her for just a moment. She and Ron had ended things nearly three years ago. After two years of trying to make a romantic relationship work, they'd ended on neutral terms. Just like their relationship, even their ending hadn't been particularly exciting. It was good, really, because they'd gone back to being friends immediately, but that alone reinforced the fact that never in her life had Hermione had any sort of thrilling relationship that made her heart beat fast and her skin tingle. She'd never felt that spark that she'd always longed for.

With a huff, Hermione started organizing some paperwork for a meeting with Malfoy that would take place in just a few minutes. Written Auror reports in one stack, photos in another, and miscellaneous facts in a third. He always insisted on coming to her office, and she picked up her wand and cast a quick dust removal charm, even though she knew her office was spotless. On the corner of her desk sat an essential oil burner, and she used the tip of her wand to light the candle so that the lemongrass oil she liked to keep in there heated and filled up the room with it's scent. Over the last few months, the cirtusy-sweet scent had become something that calmed her, though she wasn't sure where she'd first smelled it. It was around the time Malfoy started working with her. She'd found that the smell helped lower her blood pressure when his presence caused it go up.

As she worked, she pushed her loneliness back into its little box. Minutes later, at 2:00 PM on the dot, Malfoy's familiar knock echoed from her door. Tap, tap, tap-tap.

"Come in," she said, trying to school her features so that her irritation at having to work with him was replaced with neutral nonchalance.

Malfoy opened the door, a stack of paperwork in his own hands, and used his foot to latch the door behind him. He dumped the stack on her desk, nearly upsetting her piles, and she scowled.

"Afternoon, Granger," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. His movement must have wafted the lemongrass scent her way, because for a moment it overpowered her senses, and she breathed deeply to try and repress her irritation, her scowl deepening.

"I had a system so we could review these files," she said, going to grab his stack, but he stopped her with an outstretched hand. With a sigh, he flicked his wand, and his stack lifted into the air, sorted into three stacks, and landed, neatly, atop her three.

"You think after all these months I wouldn't know your system?" He sat unceremoniously in the chair, which Hermione knew was not comfortable in comparison to Harry's guest chairs, and smirked. "Granger, you wound me."

She rolled her eyes and sat forward, motioning for him to to do the same. "We've almost got this one licked," she said, pointing to the piles. "I think we can get it finished before 5:00."

"And then, it's off to Potter birthday party, yeah?" He was smirking at her and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, I heard you were attending." She cleared her throat and began to spread out the photo files on her desk for them both to see.

"Don't sound so excited," he grumbled, smirk falling away as he leaned forward on his desk to look at a few of the photos nearest him.

Hermione sighed and looked at the same photos. "I'm sure we'll all have a nice time," she said, smiling. His head snapped up and the grin spread across his face that made something inside of Hermione grow warm.

Oh, her traitorous, lonely existence. She scowled and tapped the photos. "Let's just get this finished."

Malfoy gave her a mock salute and nodded his head. "Yes, ma'am."

At 7:05, almost fashionably late, the floo at The Three Broomsticks roared to life and Hermione stepped out. She used a brush to remove the excess soot and hung her light jacket - it was July, but she always traveled with a jacket, just in case - on the coat rack. The rack nodded to her, and walked her coat into the coat room just in the back.

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron's voice could be heard over the din of the evening crowd. He was standing on his toes, his tall, lanky frame standing out even in the crowded space, waving her over. She laughed lightly as she move to join them.

Her heart stuttered when she saw how coupley everyone was. Harry sat with Ginny, his arm around her waist with her head on his shoulder. Luna and Neville, who'd gotten engaged just a few months prior, were sitting side-by-side, sharing a menu. And Ron was sitting with Daphne, very clearly too awkward to hold her hand, even as he leaned toward as if she were a magnet. And to her credit, Daphne seemed just as nervous as him. They all waved as she approached and gave a chorus of hellos, and Hermione waved back.

"Hello, I don't know that we ever properly met at Hogwarts." Hermione extended her hand to Daphne, who's green eyes opened in surprised before a lovely smile broke out over her face. "It's so nice to meet you." She shook Daphne's hand, and Daphne relaxed.

"Nice to meet you as well." She tucked a long strand of straight brown hair behind her ear and smiled. "I'll admit, I was a bit intimidated to come tonight."

Ron's face was red as he carefully draped a lanky arm around her shoulders. "Daph here was afraid you'd hex her for being on my arm."

"Ronald!" Daphne screeched, smacking his chest, but making no move away from him.

Hermione laughed and sat, taking the seat next to Luna. "That's rich," she said as she looked around for a waiter. "No, I'm very happy to see Ron with someone who might be able to handle his shenanigans." Hermione leaned forward in a conspiratorial fashion. "Just between us girls, I've known him since we were eleven. He's very difficult to keep in line."

Daphne let out a laugh - not a proper, quiet laugh that Hermione had unknowingly expected from the pureblood girl, but a real, loud, lovely laugh, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. She liked her already.

"Draco said I was going to like you," Daphne said, smiling and leaning her cheek against Ron's shoulder.

Hermione felt her heart stutter as confusion overwhelmed her. But before she could think on it too much, the object of their conversation appeared. He slid into the seat beside Hermione and placed a butterbeer, pulled cold and fresh from the tap, in front of her.

"Evening, Granger," he said with a smirk, and she felt herself scowl.

"Malfoy," she said. She caught Harry's eye, and his expression pleaded with her. She sighed. "Er, thank you for the drink," she said with a tight-lipped smile.

He tipped his firewhiskey toward her and nodded.

The waiter arrived then, took their orders, and Luna kick started the conversation, telling them all about the wedding she and Neville had planned. Hermione smiled and nodded, but inside she felt hollow. She finished her butterbeer as their food arrived, and she was grateful for something to soak up the alcohol, as her head was swimming just a little from how fast she drank.

As they ate, Hermione listened and watched. She was shocked at how seamlessly Daphne, and even Malfoy, fit into their little group. She found herself laughing along with the rest when Harry would tell a story from their time at Hogwarts, or when Draco would add his own perspective, playfully making fun of his once-enemy-turned-friend. They all avoided talking about the war, about Voldemort, about their parts in it all, but Hermione found herself thinking about it as they chatted, as she often did. Absently, she looked down at the table where Draco's forearms rested - clad in long sleeves, as always - on the table. As if he could sense her gaze, he pulled his arms below the table, then cleared his throat and stood.

"Anyone need another drink?" All heads nodded yes, and guilt overwhelmed her. He'd seen her staring at the spot where she knew his Mark was hidden. How rude of her.

"I'll help you carry," she said, standing as well, knowing that with magic he really didn't need any help.

He stared at her for a moment before a small smirk turned up one corner of his mouth. With a nod of his head, he headed toward the bar, Hermione in tow. She glanced back at the table and Luna caught her eye, a broad smile on her lovely, pale face.

"Three butterbeers, three firewhiskeys, and two glasses of red," he said, lifting a hand at the bartender, Rosmerta's newest higher, a young, stunning witch with tattoos peeking from the hem of her shirt where it rose above her pierced belly button. The bartender smiled toward Malfoy before stretching to reach the firewhiskey, allowing more of her tiny, tattooed abdomen to show. She smiled at him again over her shoulder and Hermione felt a scowl paint her face as the inked witch wiggled her bum the smallest bit.

"Granger, I had no idea you played for the other team." His voice was light as Hermione spun and stared at him, her face heating.

"Excuse me?"

"The bartender. You were just checking her out." He smirked as he pulled a mint from a bowl on the bar, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

"What? I was doing no such thing," she said, cheeks flaming. He laughed then, which calmed her instead of infuriating her, and she felt a strange courage wash over her. "Besides," she said, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth in a perfect imitation of his, "if I were attracted to women, she really wouldn't be my type." She was rewarded with a slight blush that made her stomach clench in a pleasant way. She lifted a single eyebrow. "Anyway, she was quite obviously flirting with you." She shrugged one bare shoulder, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she'd chosen to wear a tank top instead of her usual buttoned blouse.

"I hadn't noticed," he said as he turned his back to the bar and kept his eyes on her. She started to fidget.

"Drinks up," the bartender said, trying again to catch Malfoy's eye. He accepted the drinks without giving her so much as a look.

"Put them all on my tab, please," he said, staring right at Hermione. With his wand, he levitated four of the drinks while Hermione got the others, her cheeks burning.

They delivered their drinks to the table, levitating the butterbeers to Ron, Daphne, and Ginny, the firewhiskies to Harry, Neville, and Luna - who could rather surprisingly hold a lot of liquor - and the wine, which Malfoy carried, to Hermione and himself.

She looked at him strangely, and he shrugged. "You always switch to wine after a butterbeer at work functions," he said, meeting her gaze for the briefest of moments. The tips of his ears were stained red, and she wondered if it was embarrassment or the alcohol. She smiled as she sipped her own red, grateful for how dry and rich it was.

After dinner drinks led into Harry opening his gifts, - all small trinkets, as he'd insisted on no gifts at all - followed by Ginny bringing over waiters, including the bartender whose eyes never left Malfoy's face, to sing Happy Birthday to him. Harry blushed scarlet, then pulled Ginny into his lap so he could hide his red face in her red hair.

As the night progressed, Hermione noted the couples getting more and more coupley, which filled her up with that old, familiar loneliness. She sighed as she sipped her wine, unsurprised when one, by one, the couples started to leave. She glanced at her watch - 10:30, still early - and sighed again.

Ron and Daphne excused themselves first. Daphne was flushed and Ron's eyes were bright and Hermione found herself feeling very happy for him. Daphne was nice, she seemed smart, and she looked at Ron as if he hung the moon. As they said their goodbyes, Luna and Neville also rose to leave. Though Luna had drunk more than anyone else at the table, it was Neville who hung off her arm, cheeks red, eyes glassy.

"I should get him home," she said, hefting his arm higher on her shoulder.

"I'm ff-good," he said, stumbling, and Luna smiled.

"Of course you are," she put her hand around his waist and kissed his cheek, making him beam. "Hermione, could you help me get him to the floo? He's rather heavy."

"Oh, of course!" Hermione hopped up, steady on her feet. A butterbeer and a single glass of wine, coupled with a meal, had made her feel warm, but in control. She draped Neville's other arm around her shoulder and he grinned at her, his breath reeking of firewhiskey.

With heavy steps, Hermione and Luna got Neville to the floo. Unceremoniously, Luna dumped Neville in a chair beside the coat rack and very clearly spoke his name. "Longbottom," she said, and the coat rack bowed and disappeared to grab their clothes.

"I think it's a good match, you know," Luna said, her light eyes boring holes in Hermione.

"Excuse me?"

"You and Malfoy," Luna said with a shrug. "I can see auras. You're drawn together. The colors mix nicely, gold and green."

"Luna, Malfoy and I are not together."

Luna nodded. "Oh, I know. But you should be, is all I mean." The coat rack returned and from it Luna took a shawl and a suit jacket. "You deserve to be happy, you know." Luna helped Neville stand and slipped his suit jacket on before placing a kiss on his cheek, to which he beamed.

"I think you're misreading things. Malfoy and I just work together." Hermione was surprised to feel butterflies in her stomach, but tried to ignore them.

"Perhaps," Luna said, her face transforming with her soft smile. "Let's see each other soon."

Hermione nodded and waved with her fingers and Luna walked her soon-to-be-husband into the floo and was swept away in a flourish of green flames.

Hermione took a breath, and headed back to the table. When she got there, Harry, Ginny, and Malfoy were all standing.

"Well, it was good to all be together for a night, wasn't it?" Hermione said, picking up her wine glass to drain the last bit.

"Heading out, Granger?" Malfoy asked, a strange glint in his eye.

"Isn't everyone?"

Ginny watched Hermione shrewdly and Harry was looking anywhere but at her.

"Well, we are," Ginny said, hugging Harry to her side.

"Want to sit with me while I finish up this last glass, Granger?" Malfoy's voice was like always, a little cocky, but smooth as butter. She thought she saw Ginny fight a smirk and Harry pointedly avoided looking at her. But something in Malfoy's expression made Hermione nod before her brain caught up.

"All right then," she said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Thanks for coming tonight, 'Mione," Harry said, cheeks violently read. He moved in to hug her. "I'll see you Monday at work, yeah?"

"Happy birthday, Harry," she said, suddenly feeling very nervous. Ginny hugged her and kissed her cheek, giving her an extra squeeze with a trademark glint in her eye. As the last couple walked away, Hermione felt nerves settle in her stomach.

"Let's find a smaller table. Open this one up for larger groups," Malfoy said, taking his glass and motioning for her to follow him with his head.

Hermione nodded and followed, more nervous than ever. It only made sense if it was just the two of them, but somehow, moving to a table for two felt far too intimate for two co-workers finishing up drinks.

"You seem nervous," Malfoy said as he sipped his red wine after they'd found a tall table wth tar bar stools that was free.

"Yes. Well, we've never really spent time together, I suppose." She licked her bottom lip, suddenly thirsty. "Outside of work, I mean."

He smiled as the wine glass pressed into his lower lip again.

"Not so terrible, eh?" The hopeful expression on his face, coupled with how very nervous she was, made her laugh, which transformed his hopeful expression into a smile.

"No. Not so terrible." She grinned down at the table, wishing for another glass of wine, or water, or something to occupy her hand with.

"Care for another drink?" he asked, and her eyes met his. She chewed the inside of her cheek and nodded, and his smile grew. He finished off his own wine and hopped up. "Be right back."

Hermione couldn't help but watch him interact with the bartender. What was this feeling in her chest as she watched the tattooed, gorgeous witch flirt with Draco. It sat wrong with her. The bartender leaned across the bar toward him, her cleavage spilling from her tiny top, and Hermione felt her fists clench.

But then Draco looked back at her and smiled, despite the ample bosom being shoved in his line of sight, and Hermione blushed and smiled back.

Draco returned with two more glasses of red, and Hermione took hers, feeling something tingle in her belly when her fingers brushed his. What was happening to her?

"Daphne's nice," she said into the suddenly awkward silence, sipping her wine to calm her racing heart.

"Weasley just better treat her well," he said, but his smile took the sting out of his words. "She's one of my oldest friends, you know. She and her sister, Astoria. I've known them since we were all small."

"Is Astoria older? I don't remember her." Hermione's heart beat heavily in her chest, and she squeezed the wine glass in her hands to calm her nerves.

"Younger," he said, taking a large drink of his new glass of wine. "She and I don't really talk anymore."

"Why not?" Hermione sipped her wine, feeling a tingle on her tongue as this third glass of alcohol started to buzz through her bloodstream.

"She wasn't very happy when, after the war - " he cleared his throat. "Well, we were supposed to marry. Arranged, you know." He sipped his wine, keeping his eyes from hers. "I broke it off."

Hermione's fingers tingled as a pang of sadness shot through her gut. "You did?"

He nodded and looked up at her, his expression unguarded for the first time in all the years she'd known him. It was nice, really. He looked softer.

"Why?" Her voice was quiet, and he naturally leaned forward a little. She found herself doing the same.

"I didn't love her." He shrugged, his eyes still on hers. "After the war, the world had changed. I figured that was as good a time as any to change with it." He sipped his wine, and Hermione's eyes followed the glass to his lips, wetting her own with her tongue as she did so.

"Hmmm," she said, pulling her gaze from his mouth to meet his eyes, which seemed to be searching hers for something. "Well, good for you, Malfoy," she said with a nod, feeling a little dizzy.

"Draco," he said, his eyes intense.

"Draco," she said, trying his name out for the first time. It felt odd, but good, and he smirked.

"Thanks. Hermione." He sipped his wine with a smile and she felt a tingle in her belly that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Over the course of the next hour, Hermione felt herself loosen up as they talked. She laughed until tears welled in her eyes, and surprised herself when she casually put her hand on his arm where it rested on their table after a particularly funny story. She was even more surprised when he didn't pull away, but instead slid it so that her hand was in his. She blushed, but didn't move away. His palm was warm and calloused.

Her hand in his, they talked about work, about hobbies, and finally about themselves.

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?" Hermione blurted, feeling her cheeks heat. The wine had really gone to her head. He only smiled and rubbed his thumb over the back of his fingers.

"Just waiting for the right witch, I suppose."

Hermione ducked her head and tucked piece of hair that had come loose from her messy bun behind her ear.

"What about you?" he asked, his tone of nonchalance coming across as forced. "Why aren't you? Seeing anyone, I mean."

Hermione shrugged as she watched his thumb draw tiny circles on the back of her hand. "I work a lot," she said, smiling. "You know that. And, I don't know. I just haven't really had the chance to meet anyone new."

Draco leaned in a little closer and Hermione's breath caught. "Who says it has to be someone new?" His voice was low and his eyes were smoldering, and Hermione squeezed her thighs together, suddenly feeling heat pool there.

She felt herself leaning toward him, saw him smirk as he leaned in too.

And then her sanity crashed back in on her like a tidal wave. Scrambling she pulled her hand away and stood, nearly falling as she got down of the tall bar stool she'd been sitting on. Draco's mouth was open in shock, eyes wide.

"I should go," she said, breath coming in short gasps. "It's late." She looked at her watch. 12:03.

"Hermione," he said, his eyebrows knitted together.

"I'll see you Monday!" she said, false brightness. "Thanks for the drinks." Her fake smile stretched painfully across her face. Without waiting for an answer, she darted away, toward the coat rack, and barked "Granger" before waiting impatiently for her jacket.

As the coat rack arrived, she heard her name. "Hermione!" he called as he pressed through the crowd.

"Oh, come on!" she whispered, grabbing her jacket and shoving her arms through the sleeves. Forgetting that she'd flooed here, she darted away, out the doors, and into the warm July night.

She was barely a block away when warm fingers closed around her arm and spun her around. Draco stood, holding her arm, catching his breath. His hair was askew, something she'd never seen before, and he was staring at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. They were standing beneath a streetlight that spilled warm, yellowed light over them both.

"Just talk to me," he said, fixing her with his molten stare, and to her horror, she audibly groaned.

"I can't!" she said, pulling her arm away. She went to step away and he stepped in front of her, pushing his hair off his forehead, making it even messier.

"Why not?" he asked, voice rising. "We were having a nice time!" he said, his expression so vulnerable it made her stomach flip. "Weren't we?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But - "

"But what?" he asked, stepping toward her.

"But, we, you and I, cannot do this!" she shrieked, trying to step around him again, and failing when he blocked her with his body.

"Do what?" he asked, eyebrow lifted, confusion written on his face.

"This!" she said, motioning between them. "Flirt, and drink, and hold hands, and almost - " she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "All of this. We just can't."

He was silent for a long moment, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her. "Why not?" His voice was quiet, and the words made Hermione shiver in the warm night air.

"Because," she squeaked, realizing she didn't have a good reason.

"Is it because of this?" he shoved his shirt sleeve up and showed her his Mark. She knew it was there, had seen it before, and was surprised when the sight of it didn't shock her.

"Of course not," she said, looking up at him and seeing hurt written across his face.

"Then tell me, why." He tugged his sleeve back down. "Tell me why, give me a good reason, and I'll move out of your way and never bring this up again." He set his jaw.

"Because." She struggled to find a reason, and came up blank. "Because you're you, and I'm me!" she said after a moment, wishing her voice had been loud instead of a breathy whisper. She met his gaze and felt heat pool again between her legs.

He took a step closer, and when she didn't move, he took another. He was inches from her and she could feel his breath on her face.

"You're you," he said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. "And I'm me." His other hand found hers and took it, brushing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. He chuckled. "That's a terrible reason, Granger."

"Hermione," she said, breathless.

"Hermione," he said with a smile.

Draco looked into her eyes for a long moment, their breath mixing between them, and then slowly, so slowly, he lowered his face and brushed his lips against hers.

Sparks. That's the only word she could use to describe the feeling. Like the little bit of skin that touched was alight with sparks.

Her eyes grew wide and without thinking, she pressed up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his. He stumbled back with the force of her kiss, but recovered quickly, wrapped his arms around her ribs and pulled her to him. She whimpered into his mouth as their lips parted and his tongue danced with hers. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, releasing it with a pop, and he returned the favor. As he kissed her, exploring every inch of her mouth, his hands trailed scorching lines across her back, spanning her ribs and tracing her spine, stopping just shy of the waist of her skinny jeans. She shivered when his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, just barely, and his fingertips touched her overheated skin.

She kept her hands around his neck, afraid that if she gave them free reign, they'd travel too far south. She raked her nails through his hair and he growled into her mouth, making her press into him further so she could feel his whole body, long and lean, pressed flush against hers.

It was minutes later when Draco slowed their kiss, cupping her face and lavishing her mouth with heated, slow attention. He pulled away slightly, only to press his swollen lips to hers over and over, finally stopping and holding her to him, breath labored.

"I like you," he said into the night, and she laughed.

"I picked up on that," she said, clutching his shirt over his shoulder so tightly she knew it would wrinkle. She pulled away slightly and looked at his face - his pink, swollen lips, his hair disheveled, his face hopeful. "I think I like you, too," she said, and he smirked.

"Prove it," he said, and her knees felt weak at what he might be implying. "Come out with me again tomorrow. Just you and me. A proper date."

Her trepidation vanished as a smile stretched across her face. "That sounds brilliant." Her voice was breathless and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers again, making her laugh against him.

She couldn't help but deepen their kiss again, just to feel him against her, to get one more taste of red wine and peppermint. A thought struck her, and she pulled back to look at him.

"Did Harry set us up?" she asked, her brows knitted angrily.

Draco dropped his head back and laughed, tightening his grip on the witch in front of him. When he looked back at her, his smile was warm. "No." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, as he had at the start of this. "I did." He leaned back to see her face, and laughed again as shock wrote itself clearly across her features.

"What?" she blurted, hands still clutching his shoulders nervously. "Why?"

He brushed his lips against hers again and sighed before leaning back and brushing hair behind her ear. "Like I said, I like you." He shrugged, suddenly seeming shy and Hermione felt a different sort of heat build in her belly, one she hadn't felt since Ron had asked her to be his girl. One that promised butterflies and anticipation.

A calm sort of assuredness spread throughout her body and she let herself release his shoulders to place her hands on his chest.

"You could make a career of it, you know," she said, trying to school her features as he so often did. He looked confused.

"Of what?"

She smirked at him then. "Setting people up on dates, because so far, your success rate is 100%." Her smirk transitioned into a smile and he pulled her close yet again, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth as he kissed her. When he pulled away, he wore a silly grin. Reluctantly, he released her and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together in a way that made the butterflies in her stomach return. It was sweet and intimate and wonderful and warm.

He guided her back toward The Three Broomsticks. He walked her to the floo, and suddenly she didn't want him to go.

"I'll pick you tomorrow. For our date," he said, bringing their laced fingers to his mouth to kiss her hand.

Hermione felt crestfallen. It had been years since she'd felt anything even remotely close to this, and waiting until the following night to see him again seemed like too long.

"How about lunch?" he asked, and her beaming smile answered him before she could.

"Brillant."

Over his shoulder, Hermione could see the bartender shooting daggers at them with her eyes.

"Your bartender is watching," she whispered, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You mean, your bartender is watching," he whispered back, rewarded with her red cheeks.

"Whoever she's watching," she said, glancing at the woman again, "she seems fairly put out to see us standing so closely."

Draco's eyes lit up as he put his lips beside her ear. "Then she really won't like this."

Before Hermione could process his words, he took her face in his hands and captured her lips again. He was so swift, that her hands hand to find purchase on his waist to keep from falling. It only lasted a moment, but when he pulled away, she was breathless. A glance over his shoulder showed that the bartender had, indeed, not liked that at all, as she scowled at them once and turned away. She looked back to Draco, whose eyes were locked on hers. They were swimming with an emotion she couldn't quite name, and it warmed her from the inside out.

He brushed her lips again, and she sighed before stepping away. "Tomorrow, then?" she asked, glad the next day was a Saturday and they could meet for lunch, instead of dinner.

"Tomorrow. See you, Hermione." His hands were in his pockets and he bounced a little on the balls of his feet. With one last, longing glance, she threw floo powder into the fireplace and called out her address. The last thing she saw as she swirled away in green flames was his face, smiling at her, making her blush from her chest to her ears.

When she landed in her flat, she immediately went to her desk, turned on her lamp, and pulled out a scrap of parchment and a quill. With hands that shook in a pleasant way, she wrote to Harry.

Harry,

You're as sneaky as they come. You know that? You may not have set us up, but now I know that he did! And while I should be furious at you for lying, I'm finding it quite difficult to do anything but smile after having the best snog session of my life with none other Draco Malfoy. I suppose I have you to thank for that, which I know will make you extremely uncomfortable, which, honestly is why I'm sending this post. I hope the rest of your evening was wonderful. Mine most definitely was. See you!

Also, you're a rubbish liar.

Love,
Hermione

With a smile on her face, she woke her owl - a sweet little elf owl with wide, yellow eyes - and tied the note to her leg. "Go wake up Harry. Screech as loud as you want." The owl nodded and took off.

Hermione turned to ready for bed when she saw another owl approaching. It couldn't be for her, but just in case she left the window open. A moment later, a large horned owl landed on her windowsill and extended its leg to her. She took the bit of parchment tied there, and offered the owl the bowl of crunchy treats she kept out for her own owl.

She unrolled the parchment and a surprisingly family scrawl met her eyes. She smiled as she read.

Hermione,

You should be home by now. My flat isn't too far from yours, actually.

Wait, that sounded creepy. Let's move along, shall well?

I wanted to tell you, even though it's only been minutes since I saw you last, that I had a wonderful time with you tonight. I enjoyed getting to know you, outside of work. I enjoyed holding your hand. And I enjoyed kissing you. Very, very much.

I honestly don't know why I'm sending this so late. Lunch seems like a long time to wait to see you again. But I'm counting the minutes until then.

Yours,
Draco

Hermione sat back in her chair, smiling so broadly it hurt. When she'd gone to the bar tonight, she was filled to the brim with loneliness and denial. Six hours later, and she felt only light. Before his owl could leave, she pulled out another sheet of parchment to reply.

Draco,

Tonight was surprisingly wonderful. Thank you for setting me up with such a catch! I'll have to owe you one.

As lunch is a very long time from now, I would like to invite you to come and fetch me for brunch instead. 9:30 is so very much closer to now than noon.

I'll see you then.

Counting the minutes along with you,
Hermione

P.S. I very much enjoy all of those things as well. The talking. The hand holding. The kissing. You surprised me tonight, and I'm looking forward to being surprised again tomorrow.

With a smile, she tied her note to the owl and scratched it's head. It hooted softly before taking off.

She left her window open for her own owl to return. She hoped it woke Harry up, or interrupted something far more interesting. She laughed to herself as she readied for bed.

With a smile, she fell back onto her bed and stared up at her ceiling. She looked over at her digital clock - 1:32. She wouldn't see Draco again for eight hours. With a happy sigh she closed her eyes, picturing him behind her eyelids, wondering how her feelings could change so drastically in just a few hours, but extremely glad they had.

The next morning, she woke to her alarm with a slight headache, but a smile still on her face. Her clock read 7. In her bathroom, she downed a hangover potion and hopped in the shower, humming to herself as she bathed. She was ready and waiting by 8, and she grew angry with herself whens he realized she had an hour and a half to wait. She went to her bookshelf to find a book to read, when there came a knock on her door. Tap, tap, tap-tap.

Her heart raced as she crossed the living room to open it, and there he was, cheeks red, hair still damp, a nervous smile on his face.

"You're early," she breathed, and he nodded, hands in his pockets.

"I got tired of counting minutes."

Without thinking, she was on him. His arms wrapped around her waist as she kissed his lips, tasting peppermint. He smelled like lemongrass and it hit her. She'd first smelled it on him, coming into her office for meetings. She smiled into his kiss before pulling back just a little.

"So did I," she breathed against his lips, and was rewarded with a smile as he kissed the corner of her mouth and then her cheek.

"How does breakfast sound, then?" he asked, stepping back and offering her his hand.

"Perfect."

He pulled her to him again and kissed her, a bare brush of his lips, and there it was again. Sparks.

As he stepped back, she thought back to what Luna said - about them making a good match - and in this moment, she agreed.

With his hand in hers, she left her flat, and together they walked out into the bright sunlight.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending.