Ficlet for nyruserra
For Nyruserra, who asked for Adrian Pucey/Hermione Granger, some snarky, romantic banter.
1080 words, in exchange for a ten dollar donation to the_fund
Hermione pushed open the glass door, stepping into the well appointed office. Along one wall hung several framed prints, the bold, abstract patterns and colors drawing the eye. The walls were painted a cool white, almost silver, and the furniture was modern, heavy on the chrome and black.
She looked around, feeling just the tiniest bit intimidated. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward towards the empty desk.
A tall, dark haired man stepped out of the office behind the desk and stared at her. “Get me some coffee, eh luv?” With a cheeky wink, he went back into the office, the heavy wooden door closing behind him.
What? Did he just say what she thought he’d said? Her eyes darted around the office, hoping to see someone else. He obviously hadn’t been speaking to her had he?
Shaking her head, she decided to ignore him. He couldn’t have possibly thought that she was a secretary. Pulling up her cuff, she glanced at her watch. She’d been right on time, but obviously this office wasn’t run as professionally as her own. The lawyer she was supposed to be meeting was now ten minutes late.
The door behind the desk opened once more and the dark haired man stuck his head out, an exasperated expression on his face. “Didn’t I ask you to get me some coffee?”
Hermione glanced around, looking for whoever he was talking to.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m talking to you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermione said, icily.
“That’s your job, isn’t it? You’re the secretary, so you get the coffee. And make it quick, I’m expecting my lawyer.” He ducked back into the office, shutting the door behind him.
“Well, I never!” Hermione said huffily, spinning on her heel to leave. The door behind her opened and her client walked in the door, followed by a very handsome man.
“Miss Granger, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Dylan Greggerson said apologetically, tucking his briefcase under his other arm and offering her his hand.
“Lateness I can excuse, Mr. Greggerson, rudeness I cannot,” Hermione said huffily, nodding towards the door behind her.
The other man stared at her for a few moments, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m guessing you met Pucey?”
Hermione’s brow knit together. “Pucey? As in Adrian Pucey?”
“Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
She spun around, glaring at him coldly. “You sir, are a boor. I am not your sweetheart, nor your luv. I am your opposing counsel and I demand that you treat me with the respect I deserve!”
Her client was staring at her, agog and the other man was snickering quietly behind his hand. It was about time that Pucey met someone that didn’t fall immediately under his spell. Granted, he’d not imagined it being a very straitlaced and oh so proper woman that finally did the trick, but hell, he’d take what he could get.
Two spots of color appeared briefly on Adrian’s cheeks before he schooled his expression. “I beg your pardon, I believed you to be the secretary. I can see now that I was mistaken.” His eyes darted to the tall man standing behind her. “It won’t happen again.”
Hermione stared hard at him, before finally nodding her head. “Apology accepted, now can we get to the business that has our paths crossing?” she asked, glancing at her client.
“I think that would be an excellent idea,” Philip Hargrace said, stepping out from behind Hermione and offering her his hand. “The Honorable Philip Hargrace, and you must be the Honorable Miss Granger?”
“I am,” she said, shaking his hand briefly. “We’re here to discuss a potential solution to the case?”
“Indeed,” Philip said, motioning for her to precede him into the office that Pucey had come out of. “If we could just go into the conference room and discuss it?”
Hermione nodded and they adjourned into the conference room, the door closing behind them.
Two and a half hours later, the door opened once more and Hermione stepped out into the foyer, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d secured a better deal for her client than she’d ever dreamed of getting, and Adrian Pucey wasn’t looking so smug anymore. In fact, he looked downright bilious.
Dylan Greggerson followed Hermione out into the foyer, a cautious smile on his face. “Did we just get what I think we got?” he asked softly, out of the corner of his mouth.
She nodded, winking at him. “We did,” she whispered back.
They walked towards the glass doors, a spring in their steps. Greggerson pulled open the door, holding it for her when a voice stopped them.
“Granger, a moment?”
“I’ll meet you later this afternoon at your office,” Hermione said to Dylan. He nodded and with one more glance over his shoulder, stepped out of the office.
Hermione turned around, inclining her head slightly. “Yes, Mr. Pucey?”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Adrian, please.”
Hermione shook her head. “I’m only on a first name basis with those I consider friend, Mr. Pucey.”
“Well then, how about over lunch, we could become better acquainted?”
“For business or pleasure?” Hermione asked, struggling to keep the same, bland expression on her face that she’d started the conversation with. Adrian Pucey was far too handsome for his own good, that was certain.
“Pleasure.” The way he said the word made her shiver, the look in his eyes promising much.
Hermione bit her lip, her stomach clenching a bit at the way his gaze fastened on her face, his eyes gleaming. Taking a deep breath, she smiled widely. “Alright, but we go dutch.”
Adrian shook his head. “My treat, to make up for my deplorable behavior earlier.”
Hermione laughed lightly. “You did that already with the generous settlement offer.”
He stepped closer. “That was business, sweetheart.”
“And where do you suggest to take me that will make up for how you treated me earlier?”
His grin widened. “The Black Swan, of course.”
Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue. The Black Swan was the most expensive restaurant in Hogsmeade, catering almost exclusively to the pureblood set. “Are you certain?”
He frowned. “And why not? Surely you’re deserving of lunch at the best restaurant in England?”
“If you say so, who am I to disagree?”
“Indeed,” he said with a sinful smile, holding out his arm. Hermione slipped her hand around his elbow and grinned up at him.
1080 words, in exchange for a ten dollar donation to the_fund
Hermione pushed open the glass door, stepping into the well appointed office. Along one wall hung several framed prints, the bold, abstract patterns and colors drawing the eye. The walls were painted a cool white, almost silver, and the furniture was modern, heavy on the chrome and black.
She looked around, feeling just the tiniest bit intimidated. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward towards the empty desk.
A tall, dark haired man stepped out of the office behind the desk and stared at her. “Get me some coffee, eh luv?” With a cheeky wink, he went back into the office, the heavy wooden door closing behind him.
What? Did he just say what she thought he’d said? Her eyes darted around the office, hoping to see someone else. He obviously hadn’t been speaking to her had he?
Shaking her head, she decided to ignore him. He couldn’t have possibly thought that she was a secretary. Pulling up her cuff, she glanced at her watch. She’d been right on time, but obviously this office wasn’t run as professionally as her own. The lawyer she was supposed to be meeting was now ten minutes late.
The door behind the desk opened once more and the dark haired man stuck his head out, an exasperated expression on his face. “Didn’t I ask you to get me some coffee?”
Hermione glanced around, looking for whoever he was talking to.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m talking to you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermione said, icily.
“That’s your job, isn’t it? You’re the secretary, so you get the coffee. And make it quick, I’m expecting my lawyer.” He ducked back into the office, shutting the door behind him.
“Well, I never!” Hermione said huffily, spinning on her heel to leave. The door behind her opened and her client walked in the door, followed by a very handsome man.
“Miss Granger, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Dylan Greggerson said apologetically, tucking his briefcase under his other arm and offering her his hand.
“Lateness I can excuse, Mr. Greggerson, rudeness I cannot,” Hermione said huffily, nodding towards the door behind her.
The other man stared at her for a few moments, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m guessing you met Pucey?”
Hermione’s brow knit together. “Pucey? As in Adrian Pucey?”
“Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
She spun around, glaring at him coldly. “You sir, are a boor. I am not your sweetheart, nor your luv. I am your opposing counsel and I demand that you treat me with the respect I deserve!”
Her client was staring at her, agog and the other man was snickering quietly behind his hand. It was about time that Pucey met someone that didn’t fall immediately under his spell. Granted, he’d not imagined it being a very straitlaced and oh so proper woman that finally did the trick, but hell, he’d take what he could get.
Two spots of color appeared briefly on Adrian’s cheeks before he schooled his expression. “I beg your pardon, I believed you to be the secretary. I can see now that I was mistaken.” His eyes darted to the tall man standing behind her. “It won’t happen again.”
Hermione stared hard at him, before finally nodding her head. “Apology accepted, now can we get to the business that has our paths crossing?” she asked, glancing at her client.
“I think that would be an excellent idea,” Philip Hargrace said, stepping out from behind Hermione and offering her his hand. “The Honorable Philip Hargrace, and you must be the Honorable Miss Granger?”
“I am,” she said, shaking his hand briefly. “We’re here to discuss a potential solution to the case?”
“Indeed,” Philip said, motioning for her to precede him into the office that Pucey had come out of. “If we could just go into the conference room and discuss it?”
Hermione nodded and they adjourned into the conference room, the door closing behind them.
Two and a half hours later, the door opened once more and Hermione stepped out into the foyer, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d secured a better deal for her client than she’d ever dreamed of getting, and Adrian Pucey wasn’t looking so smug anymore. In fact, he looked downright bilious.
Dylan Greggerson followed Hermione out into the foyer, a cautious smile on his face. “Did we just get what I think we got?” he asked softly, out of the corner of his mouth.
She nodded, winking at him. “We did,” she whispered back.
They walked towards the glass doors, a spring in their steps. Greggerson pulled open the door, holding it for her when a voice stopped them.
“Granger, a moment?”
“I’ll meet you later this afternoon at your office,” Hermione said to Dylan. He nodded and with one more glance over his shoulder, stepped out of the office.
Hermione turned around, inclining her head slightly. “Yes, Mr. Pucey?”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Adrian, please.”
Hermione shook her head. “I’m only on a first name basis with those I consider friend, Mr. Pucey.”
“Well then, how about over lunch, we could become better acquainted?”
“For business or pleasure?” Hermione asked, struggling to keep the same, bland expression on her face that she’d started the conversation with. Adrian Pucey was far too handsome for his own good, that was certain.
“Pleasure.” The way he said the word made her shiver, the look in his eyes promising much.
Hermione bit her lip, her stomach clenching a bit at the way his gaze fastened on her face, his eyes gleaming. Taking a deep breath, she smiled widely. “Alright, but we go dutch.”
Adrian shook his head. “My treat, to make up for my deplorable behavior earlier.”
Hermione laughed lightly. “You did that already with the generous settlement offer.”
He stepped closer. “That was business, sweetheart.”
“And where do you suggest to take me that will make up for how you treated me earlier?”
His grin widened. “The Black Swan, of course.”
Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue. The Black Swan was the most expensive restaurant in Hogsmeade, catering almost exclusively to the pureblood set. “Are you certain?”
He frowned. “And why not? Surely you’re deserving of lunch at the best restaurant in England?”
“If you say so, who am I to disagree?”
“Indeed,” he said with a sinful smile, holding out his arm. Hermione slipped her hand around his elbow and grinned up at him.