Fic: Fortunate (Draco/Hermione)
Title: Fortunate
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Hermione
Rating: Any Age
Summary: Hermione’s never considered why Malfoy always happens to be around when she takes a lunch break.
Word Count: 2500
A/N: Written for cdvla313 who guessed the correct song in my Lyric Challenge.
When Audrey actually pulls out her wand and threatens her, Hermione decides the best choice is to put down her file and take an actual lunch break. Her assistant is usually very helpful and soft-spoken, so she knows she’s crossed a line when Audrey raises her voice. Still, she can’t admit defeat too early or else Audrey will assume she can demand that Hermione take breaks any time she wants, so she does deliberately take her time sorting her files and putting away her ink and quill. By the time she’s ready to leave the office, Percy is at Audrey’s desk, blushing and awkwardly fumbling with his spectacles.
“Percy, why don’t you take Audrey to lunch?” she suggests, giving Audrey a slightly evil smirk when her assistant flushes and starts stammering. She’s had to endure six months of awkward courtship, though, and she’s still annoyed at being threatened by wand point for not taking care of herself and refusing to stop working to take a break.
“Oh, I, uh, I’m not sure…” Percy is stammering, and it’s somewhat adorable if one is into romantic nonsense like that, which Hermione actually isn’t very much.
Other women might like the bumbling sweetness, but she’d prefer a suitor who is confident enough to challenge her and just sweep her off her feet. Unfortunately, there aren’t many wizards who can challenge her, and those that can are either already involved, inappropriate in one way or another, or just don’t have any interest in her. Since her relationship with Ron soured not four months after that first kiss, she’s been focused on NEWTs and establishing her career path at the Ministry, anyway. It doesn’t leave much time for romance.
She leaves Percy and Audrey blushing and stammering at each other. Instead of going to the canteen, she decides to venture outdoors for fresh air and something more substantial because she knows she’s likely to skip dinner now that she’s had to stop to take a break. The research she’s doing regarding house elf magic and subservient instincts is going really well, and she thinks she’ll have a working copy of new legislation to present soon. If she can manage a success with that, she plans to turn her attention to werewolf legislation. The head of Magical Creatures isn’t exactly supportive of her efforts to change things that have been in place for far too many years, but she has Kingsley on her side, and he’s the Minister so she doesn’t mind accepting support where she can if it means getting her way.
There’s a light rain falling when she steps outside. She should have checked the weather report, but she hadn’t planned on taking a lunch break, so she’ll blame Audrey for the mess that her hair is likely to become when it’s wet in this humidity. She can already feel it starting to escape from the sloppy ponytail she’d drawn it into earlier. There are quite a few people out, Muggles taking their lunch breaks and tourists admiring the sites, and she has to step around them as she walks quickly. The rain isn’t too horrid yet, but she can see the dark clouds overhead, and she knows what’s about to happen.
A Muggle sandwich shop is the closest eatery to the Ministry, so that’s her destination. She can eat a quick sandwich then rush back to work. Hopefully, Audrey and Percy will no longer be stammering at each other or she might lose the lunch she plans to eat. If Percy fails to make a move this time with the excellent opportunity she gave him, she’s afraid she’s going to have to casually mention to Ron and George that he’s smitten with her assistant and let them interfere because she doesn’t have time for matchmaking and foolish things like that.
Before she can reach the shop, the sky opens up and it begins to pour. If she weren’t surrounded by Muggles, she could easily use a charm to stay dry. As it is, she’s soaked to the bone by the time she stumbles into the crowded shop. Her work clothes are wet enough that she could probably ring the blouse out and fill up a teacup with the water, and her trousers are clinging to her legs as she walks. It’s lucky that other people got caught in the downpour, at least, as she’s not the only one entering the shop looking wet and haggard.
“You look like a drowned kneazle, Granger,” a low voice drawls nearby, the amusement evident in the tone.
Hermione tenses and looks to her left, spotting Malfoy seated at a table with a wrapped sandwich in front of him. He’s dry, of course, with nary a hair out of place. Pompous arse. “That’s what happens when one is caught in the rain, Malfoy,” she says sweetly, her tone letting him know she’s not in the mood for witty banter. It’s most unpleasant to have to acknowledge the fact that Malfoy is actually witty and that she occasionally enjoys their banter now that they’re older and the words aren’t cruel.
“I’m more surprised by the fact that you unchained yourself from your desk to join the land of the living for a meal during the appropriate time,” Malfoy remarks, gray eyes quickly sweeping over her. “Are you feeling ill? Should I rush you to St. Mungos so they can examine your mental well-being? Mother would be most proud if I’m written up as a hero in the Prophet, you know?”
“My mental capabilities are fine, prat,” she mutters, scowling at him as she looks at the queue at the counter. “I decided to take a break today. It’s my misfortune to choose the same location as you. What are you doing down here anyway? Do Mummy and Daddy know that you’re loitering around Muggle sandwich shops engaging in verbal assaults with other patrons?”
“You decided?” Malfoy snorts before he smirks. “That assistant of yours forced you, didn’t she? The Ministry gossip mill insists that she’s the only reason you ever stop working to partake on most employees’ favorite part of the work day. And I’ll have you know that my parents are very supportive of my quest to study the Muggle world as well as my verbal altercations with a particular stubborn witch.”
“I’d ask how you know all about Ministry gossip when you don’t even work there, but I’m sure you’ve got spies everywhere.” Hermione arches a brow and purses her lips. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, especially when it’s just rumors.”
“The queue is moving, Granger. While I know that my company is far more enjoyable than a meal, I have no intentions of rushing off yet, so I’ll allow you to share my table when you have your food, I suppose.” Malfoy sighs and fusses with his cufflinks. “It’s a sacrifice, of course, but I’ll survive somehow.”
“You’re such an arsehole,” she says, rolling her eyes as she joins the queue and finally reaches the counter. She orders her sandwich and a cup of soup because the wet weather has given her a slight chill as she stands soaking in the air conditioned shop. Once she has her food, she goes back to Malfoy’s table, surprised to see that he still hasn’t unwrapped his food. “Are you just staring at it or do you plan to eat it?”
Malfoy looks at her, lips twitching slightly. “Now, Granger, there’s no need to get vulgar and force me to suffer through childish sexual innuendos.”
She blinks at him a minute before she kicks his leg. “There was nothing sexual or innuendoey about that.”
“Innuendoey?” Malfoy snickers. “Are you now creating new words simply to describe your vast feelings of desire and affection for me, Granger? I’m honored, of course, but I think existing words are adequate enough.”
“You wish.” She settles in her chair and starts eating her soup. It’s nice and warm, even if there’s too much salt and the vegetables are soggy. “What other ministry gossip have you heard from Greengrass? And please don’t insult my intelligence by denying that she’s not your source. She’s an auror and they’re worse than a bunch of old ladies in a knitting circle when it comes to gossiping.”
“Actually, Daphne is close-mouthed when it comes to anything interesting.” Malfoy has unwrapped his sandwich and opened his bag of crisps now, but he still isn’t eating much. “Astoria, on the other hand, is dating a wizard who works in the Department of Mysteries, and he’s very talkative about everything except his work.”
“You get your gossip from your ex-girlfriend?” Hermione studies him a moment. “And she’s dating Dennis Creevey?”
“She isn’t my ex-girlfriend. She’s my former betrothed, which is entirely different.” Malfoy makes a face. “And, yes, she’s enjoying the attentions of a bloody Gryffindor. I do believe it must be some terrible curse placed upon the members of our house during the war. It’s the only logical explanation, but Mother refuses to let me file a complaint for investigation. But, honestly, Granger. It must be! We have Pansy with your Weasley and Greg with bloody Brown and Nott with Patil and now Astoria with Creevey. We’ve been cursed, I’m sure of it.”
“You forgot Oliver and Flynt,” she reminds him, smiling before she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Oh, and of course, there’s also your obvious infatuation with me.” She rolls her eyes before twisting the top off her bottle of water.
Malfoy stares at her a moment. “Hmph. As you so quaintly put it, you wish.” He eats a crisp. “However, it’s not surprising that you’re attempting to transfer your attraction towards me into the belief that it is I who are enamored with you. I suppose it would be kind of me to put you out of your misery and accept the invitation to dinner that you’ve been wanting to extend for the past two years. Really, I thought Gryffindors were so brave and rash.”
“I think too much leisure time is affecting your brain, Malfoy.” Hermione shakes her head. “If I wanted to invite a man for dinner, I’d simply do it. Considering the fact that I often lose track of time and take my work home with me, dating isn’t something I indulge in at this time.”
“I am running an extremely successful potions company, Granger. While you might think I’m merely a man of leisure, I spend a majority of my days in the lab or in meetings,” he points out, giving her a look that she doesn’t quite understand.
“You do?” She frowns. She knows about his company, of course, but she hasn’t realized he does a lot of the work himself. “Why are you always in this shop whenever I’m forced to take a lunch break then? Or the Chinese place near my flat that I stop at when I’m craving fried rice?”
Malfoy laughs. “You really don’t get it, do you? I thought you were the clever one, Granger. Brightest witch of our age, isn’t it? That doesn’t bode well for the other witches’ intelligence if you’re the brightest one.” He smirks as he leans back in his chair. “Did you know that Audrey’s sister works for me? She’s my PA, and she is a nosy interfering bint that is probably a lot like her sister.”
Hermione blinks at him because, no, she hadn’t realized, and the pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t even realized were a puzzle are starting to put themselves together. “For two years, Malfoy?” she asks once she thinks she fully understands. “You want to go to dinner with me?”
“Why, Granger, how forward and bold of you. I’ll have to check my calendar, of course, but I suppose I can put you out of your misery and agree to dinner,” he says, arching a pale brow and studying her. “And, yes, two bloody years. It’s about time you finally realized and asked me to dinner.”
“Right. Because you having the bollocks to just ask me outright is obviously not a possibility.” She snorts. “I can’t believe Audrey has been in cahoots with you this entire time.”
“You make it sound underhanded and torrid.” Malfoy sighs. “She didn’t know at first, and then I might have played on her fanciful romantic notions in order to gain her trust and cooperation.”
“Yes, well, it doesn’t excuse her obvious attempts to force me to endure lunch with you repeatedly over the last months nor does it give her permission to share my craving for Chinese food in order to arrange for you to be there after I leave work.” Hermione finishes her sandwich and dabs at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “So you believe your infatuation with me is caused by a curse placed on your house?”
“It does sound rather dramatic and ridiculous when you put it that way,” he admits. He shrugs his shoulders, which she has noticed before are quite nicely shaped. “I suppose there’s a very small minute chance that my infatuation stems from an admiration of intelligence and a fondness for wild hair and stubborn argumentative opinionated witches who are oblivious to romantic intentions. But just a small chance.”
“I suppose you’re fortunate that I have an appreciation of intelligence and hardworking wizards who are too inept to properly woo me but clever enough not to resort to cliché romantic actions that I have little admiration for.” She gathers her lunch remnants so she can put them in the rubbish. “I have to return to work now. You’re to owl me details regarding our planned dinner date. Tomorrow evening suits me best, and I refuse to visit a restaurant with entrees that cost a small fortune. After dinner, we’ll reevaluate the situation to determine whether a second date should occur.”
“I insist that a kiss be considered as part of the reevaluation negotiations,” he says firmly. Her gaze drops to his lips involuntary, and she watches them curve into a pleased smile. “I’ll escort you back to the Ministry. It’s still pouring out, and I’m obviously the sensible one since I came prepared for such weather.”
She looks at the umbrella before looking back at him. “Fine, but only because I’d draw too much attention if I used my wand to stay dry. And you aren’t the sensible one. If you were, we’d have been going to dinner two years ago.”
“You weren’t ready to surrender to my charm and accept that you want me two years ago,” he tells her, taking her arm as they step out into the rain. “You’re ready now.”
“Arrogance isn’t an attractive trait,” she reminds him, glancing at his profile and having to admit to herself that she does find him attractive. He’s also proven himself to be a worthy challenge during their past meetings, even if she’s never really considered the possibility of dating him. She slowly smiles. "Yes, I’m ready now.”
End
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Hermione
Rating: Any Age
Summary: Hermione’s never considered why Malfoy always happens to be around when she takes a lunch break.
Word Count: 2500
A/N: Written for cdvla313 who guessed the correct song in my Lyric Challenge.
When Audrey actually pulls out her wand and threatens her, Hermione decides the best choice is to put down her file and take an actual lunch break. Her assistant is usually very helpful and soft-spoken, so she knows she’s crossed a line when Audrey raises her voice. Still, she can’t admit defeat too early or else Audrey will assume she can demand that Hermione take breaks any time she wants, so she does deliberately take her time sorting her files and putting away her ink and quill. By the time she’s ready to leave the office, Percy is at Audrey’s desk, blushing and awkwardly fumbling with his spectacles.
“Percy, why don’t you take Audrey to lunch?” she suggests, giving Audrey a slightly evil smirk when her assistant flushes and starts stammering. She’s had to endure six months of awkward courtship, though, and she’s still annoyed at being threatened by wand point for not taking care of herself and refusing to stop working to take a break.
“Oh, I, uh, I’m not sure…” Percy is stammering, and it’s somewhat adorable if one is into romantic nonsense like that, which Hermione actually isn’t very much.
Other women might like the bumbling sweetness, but she’d prefer a suitor who is confident enough to challenge her and just sweep her off her feet. Unfortunately, there aren’t many wizards who can challenge her, and those that can are either already involved, inappropriate in one way or another, or just don’t have any interest in her. Since her relationship with Ron soured not four months after that first kiss, she’s been focused on NEWTs and establishing her career path at the Ministry, anyway. It doesn’t leave much time for romance.
She leaves Percy and Audrey blushing and stammering at each other. Instead of going to the canteen, she decides to venture outdoors for fresh air and something more substantial because she knows she’s likely to skip dinner now that she’s had to stop to take a break. The research she’s doing regarding house elf magic and subservient instincts is going really well, and she thinks she’ll have a working copy of new legislation to present soon. If she can manage a success with that, she plans to turn her attention to werewolf legislation. The head of Magical Creatures isn’t exactly supportive of her efforts to change things that have been in place for far too many years, but she has Kingsley on her side, and he’s the Minister so she doesn’t mind accepting support where she can if it means getting her way.
There’s a light rain falling when she steps outside. She should have checked the weather report, but she hadn’t planned on taking a lunch break, so she’ll blame Audrey for the mess that her hair is likely to become when it’s wet in this humidity. She can already feel it starting to escape from the sloppy ponytail she’d drawn it into earlier. There are quite a few people out, Muggles taking their lunch breaks and tourists admiring the sites, and she has to step around them as she walks quickly. The rain isn’t too horrid yet, but she can see the dark clouds overhead, and she knows what’s about to happen.
A Muggle sandwich shop is the closest eatery to the Ministry, so that’s her destination. She can eat a quick sandwich then rush back to work. Hopefully, Audrey and Percy will no longer be stammering at each other or she might lose the lunch she plans to eat. If Percy fails to make a move this time with the excellent opportunity she gave him, she’s afraid she’s going to have to casually mention to Ron and George that he’s smitten with her assistant and let them interfere because she doesn’t have time for matchmaking and foolish things like that.
Before she can reach the shop, the sky opens up and it begins to pour. If she weren’t surrounded by Muggles, she could easily use a charm to stay dry. As it is, she’s soaked to the bone by the time she stumbles into the crowded shop. Her work clothes are wet enough that she could probably ring the blouse out and fill up a teacup with the water, and her trousers are clinging to her legs as she walks. It’s lucky that other people got caught in the downpour, at least, as she’s not the only one entering the shop looking wet and haggard.
“You look like a drowned kneazle, Granger,” a low voice drawls nearby, the amusement evident in the tone.
Hermione tenses and looks to her left, spotting Malfoy seated at a table with a wrapped sandwich in front of him. He’s dry, of course, with nary a hair out of place. Pompous arse. “That’s what happens when one is caught in the rain, Malfoy,” she says sweetly, her tone letting him know she’s not in the mood for witty banter. It’s most unpleasant to have to acknowledge the fact that Malfoy is actually witty and that she occasionally enjoys their banter now that they’re older and the words aren’t cruel.
“I’m more surprised by the fact that you unchained yourself from your desk to join the land of the living for a meal during the appropriate time,” Malfoy remarks, gray eyes quickly sweeping over her. “Are you feeling ill? Should I rush you to St. Mungos so they can examine your mental well-being? Mother would be most proud if I’m written up as a hero in the Prophet, you know?”
“My mental capabilities are fine, prat,” she mutters, scowling at him as she looks at the queue at the counter. “I decided to take a break today. It’s my misfortune to choose the same location as you. What are you doing down here anyway? Do Mummy and Daddy know that you’re loitering around Muggle sandwich shops engaging in verbal assaults with other patrons?”
“You decided?” Malfoy snorts before he smirks. “That assistant of yours forced you, didn’t she? The Ministry gossip mill insists that she’s the only reason you ever stop working to partake on most employees’ favorite part of the work day. And I’ll have you know that my parents are very supportive of my quest to study the Muggle world as well as my verbal altercations with a particular stubborn witch.”
“I’d ask how you know all about Ministry gossip when you don’t even work there, but I’m sure you’ve got spies everywhere.” Hermione arches a brow and purses her lips. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, especially when it’s just rumors.”
“The queue is moving, Granger. While I know that my company is far more enjoyable than a meal, I have no intentions of rushing off yet, so I’ll allow you to share my table when you have your food, I suppose.” Malfoy sighs and fusses with his cufflinks. “It’s a sacrifice, of course, but I’ll survive somehow.”
“You’re such an arsehole,” she says, rolling her eyes as she joins the queue and finally reaches the counter. She orders her sandwich and a cup of soup because the wet weather has given her a slight chill as she stands soaking in the air conditioned shop. Once she has her food, she goes back to Malfoy’s table, surprised to see that he still hasn’t unwrapped his food. “Are you just staring at it or do you plan to eat it?”
Malfoy looks at her, lips twitching slightly. “Now, Granger, there’s no need to get vulgar and force me to suffer through childish sexual innuendos.”
She blinks at him a minute before she kicks his leg. “There was nothing sexual or innuendoey about that.”
“Innuendoey?” Malfoy snickers. “Are you now creating new words simply to describe your vast feelings of desire and affection for me, Granger? I’m honored, of course, but I think existing words are adequate enough.”
“You wish.” She settles in her chair and starts eating her soup. It’s nice and warm, even if there’s too much salt and the vegetables are soggy. “What other ministry gossip have you heard from Greengrass? And please don’t insult my intelligence by denying that she’s not your source. She’s an auror and they’re worse than a bunch of old ladies in a knitting circle when it comes to gossiping.”
“Actually, Daphne is close-mouthed when it comes to anything interesting.” Malfoy has unwrapped his sandwich and opened his bag of crisps now, but he still isn’t eating much. “Astoria, on the other hand, is dating a wizard who works in the Department of Mysteries, and he’s very talkative about everything except his work.”
“You get your gossip from your ex-girlfriend?” Hermione studies him a moment. “And she’s dating Dennis Creevey?”
“She isn’t my ex-girlfriend. She’s my former betrothed, which is entirely different.” Malfoy makes a face. “And, yes, she’s enjoying the attentions of a bloody Gryffindor. I do believe it must be some terrible curse placed upon the members of our house during the war. It’s the only logical explanation, but Mother refuses to let me file a complaint for investigation. But, honestly, Granger. It must be! We have Pansy with your Weasley and Greg with bloody Brown and Nott with Patil and now Astoria with Creevey. We’ve been cursed, I’m sure of it.”
“You forgot Oliver and Flynt,” she reminds him, smiling before she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Oh, and of course, there’s also your obvious infatuation with me.” She rolls her eyes before twisting the top off her bottle of water.
Malfoy stares at her a moment. “Hmph. As you so quaintly put it, you wish.” He eats a crisp. “However, it’s not surprising that you’re attempting to transfer your attraction towards me into the belief that it is I who are enamored with you. I suppose it would be kind of me to put you out of your misery and accept the invitation to dinner that you’ve been wanting to extend for the past two years. Really, I thought Gryffindors were so brave and rash.”
“I think too much leisure time is affecting your brain, Malfoy.” Hermione shakes her head. “If I wanted to invite a man for dinner, I’d simply do it. Considering the fact that I often lose track of time and take my work home with me, dating isn’t something I indulge in at this time.”
“I am running an extremely successful potions company, Granger. While you might think I’m merely a man of leisure, I spend a majority of my days in the lab or in meetings,” he points out, giving her a look that she doesn’t quite understand.
“You do?” She frowns. She knows about his company, of course, but she hasn’t realized he does a lot of the work himself. “Why are you always in this shop whenever I’m forced to take a lunch break then? Or the Chinese place near my flat that I stop at when I’m craving fried rice?”
Malfoy laughs. “You really don’t get it, do you? I thought you were the clever one, Granger. Brightest witch of our age, isn’t it? That doesn’t bode well for the other witches’ intelligence if you’re the brightest one.” He smirks as he leans back in his chair. “Did you know that Audrey’s sister works for me? She’s my PA, and she is a nosy interfering bint that is probably a lot like her sister.”
Hermione blinks at him because, no, she hadn’t realized, and the pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t even realized were a puzzle are starting to put themselves together. “For two years, Malfoy?” she asks once she thinks she fully understands. “You want to go to dinner with me?”
“Why, Granger, how forward and bold of you. I’ll have to check my calendar, of course, but I suppose I can put you out of your misery and agree to dinner,” he says, arching a pale brow and studying her. “And, yes, two bloody years. It’s about time you finally realized and asked me to dinner.”
“Right. Because you having the bollocks to just ask me outright is obviously not a possibility.” She snorts. “I can’t believe Audrey has been in cahoots with you this entire time.”
“You make it sound underhanded and torrid.” Malfoy sighs. “She didn’t know at first, and then I might have played on her fanciful romantic notions in order to gain her trust and cooperation.”
“Yes, well, it doesn’t excuse her obvious attempts to force me to endure lunch with you repeatedly over the last months nor does it give her permission to share my craving for Chinese food in order to arrange for you to be there after I leave work.” Hermione finishes her sandwich and dabs at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “So you believe your infatuation with me is caused by a curse placed on your house?”
“It does sound rather dramatic and ridiculous when you put it that way,” he admits. He shrugs his shoulders, which she has noticed before are quite nicely shaped. “I suppose there’s a very small minute chance that my infatuation stems from an admiration of intelligence and a fondness for wild hair and stubborn argumentative opinionated witches who are oblivious to romantic intentions. But just a small chance.”
“I suppose you’re fortunate that I have an appreciation of intelligence and hardworking wizards who are too inept to properly woo me but clever enough not to resort to cliché romantic actions that I have little admiration for.” She gathers her lunch remnants so she can put them in the rubbish. “I have to return to work now. You’re to owl me details regarding our planned dinner date. Tomorrow evening suits me best, and I refuse to visit a restaurant with entrees that cost a small fortune. After dinner, we’ll reevaluate the situation to determine whether a second date should occur.”
“I insist that a kiss be considered as part of the reevaluation negotiations,” he says firmly. Her gaze drops to his lips involuntary, and she watches them curve into a pleased smile. “I’ll escort you back to the Ministry. It’s still pouring out, and I’m obviously the sensible one since I came prepared for such weather.”
She looks at the umbrella before looking back at him. “Fine, but only because I’d draw too much attention if I used my wand to stay dry. And you aren’t the sensible one. If you were, we’d have been going to dinner two years ago.”
“You weren’t ready to surrender to my charm and accept that you want me two years ago,” he tells her, taking her arm as they step out into the rain. “You’re ready now.”
“Arrogance isn’t an attractive trait,” she reminds him, glancing at his profile and having to admit to herself that she does find him attractive. He’s also proven himself to be a worthy challenge during their past meetings, even if she’s never really considered the possibility of dating him. She slowly smiles. "Yes, I’m ready now.”
End