Work Text
:: "There you are." Hermione gave him a disingenuous smile before bringing her drink to her lips and taking a deep swig. She made a face and hoped he thought it was because of his presence and not because the drink burned her throat on the way down. "I thought I heard the gates of hell creaking open." "Was that humor, Granger?" Draco asked in mock disbelief, throwing one hand over his heart and using the other to move her purse from the otherwise empty seat next to her. "Is that why your boss performed so badly today? His right hand was too busy learning to tell a joke instead of helping him prepare for the debate?" Hermione took another deep drink. "He didn't perform badly at all." She didn't sound the least bit convincing, and he didn't look at all convinced. Hermione gave him a look, a childish one if she were honest, before sighing. "Haven't you heard of the phrase 'lose the battle, win the war'?" "And this brings his grand total up to what now? Five or six battles lost? Not too many speeches left before he has to give the big one on election night. Don't get that twinkle in your eye, Granger. You know I'm only talking about his concession speech." "Sod off." Hermione sulked. She crooked a finger at the barmaid, and the pretty redhead walked over with a refill of her drink. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be off celebrating with the rest of the degenerates on your team?" "Language!" He chided, laughing at the sour look she shot him. "I can promise you that no one on my team is celebrating your boss's loss tonight. We're having a small get-together tomorrow. Nothing big or opulent. A few dozen people. Press. Whatever, right?" Hermione wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smirk right off his face, but she held her composure, choosing instead to reach over him to a bowl of peanuts the barmaid had just put out. "I loathe you, Malfoy. Truly, honestly, I do." She cracked open the nuts and popped them in her mouth, chewing loudly but only because she knew how much he hated the sound. "But even I know you're better than bloody McKinnon. How can you campaign for someone like him to be the Minister of Magic? He's awful." "With ease," He told her confidently, "And, yes, before you even bother to ask, I do sleep well at night. Best sleep I've gotten in years, actually." He eyed the drink she sat down on the bar before looking back up at her. "What are you having?" He took the drink from her when she didn't answer and brought it up to his nose to sniff, immediately holding it as far away from his body as his arm would allow. "Are you a year out of Hogwarts?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know bloody well that I'm not a--" "Then why are you still drinking from the bottom shelf like you are?" Draco put his hand in the air and waved the barmaid back over. She looked between the two of them expectantly, the look on her face suggesting that she knew it was going to be a long night. "We'll take something from that shelf up there. That's where adults drink from, Granger." Draco pointed to the line of bottles on the top shelf, his finger stopping on a black and gold bottle that caught his attention. "That's one I've never seen before." The barmaid, Angelique, according to the tag pinned to her blue shirt, looked over her shoulder to the shelves that lined the wall. "Ahh, that's one of our latest imports. We source it directly from Knockturn Alley." "What's it called?" Draco asked. "They haven't given it a name officially." Angelique turned around and stood on her tiptoes to reach for the bottle. "But the patrons have been calling it The One Drink .'" She uncorked the bottle and poured a tiny bit into a shot glass she pulled from underneath the bar. "Why?" The redheaded witch tipped her head back and drained the shot glass, setting it down on the bar with a flirtatious smile. "Because that's all you need to have a good time." She leaned into Draco, at least as much as she could with the bar separating them, before giving him a wink and pulling back. "Charming," Hermione mumbled. "What do you say, Granger? Fancy a good time?" Hermione scrunched her nose and shook her head. She wanted absolutely no part in this. Being seen together was bad enough, but publicly sharing a drink with the bloke who worked for her boss's rival was even more of a disaster in the making. She could only imagine what her boss would say if he knew she was out consorting with the enemy after the day they had. Not that she had even made the conscious effort to consort with him in the first place. Malfoy, as she had come to learn over the last few months, was like a fly, one that wouldn't stop buzzing around no matter how hard or how many times he was shooed away. He was always on the hunt for information, and while that was a quality she could admire, given the right set of circumstances, this certainly wasn't one of them. He could derail the entire campaign if she so much as had a single slip of the tongue, and she knew, just knew, he would do so in a heartbeat and with that annoying smirk of his plastered on his face the entire time. "I'm fine with the drink I alread--" "She doesn't look like the type," Angelique interrupted, giving Hermione a once over, "Maybe something a little tamer to fit your tastes, love?" Hermione balked. Something tamer to fit her tastes? What did that even mean? She looked herself over before turning towards Draco to do the same. She couldn't ignore that she was sorely overdressed to be sitting in a pub, but that was only because she had come straight from the office. Merlin only knew what hole Malfoy had slithered out from that his current attire could be deemed even somewhat appropriate. Regardless, her choice of clothing didn't make her "too tame" to order a bottle of what she was sure was only overpriced alcohol in a pretty bottle. And there wasn't a wizard, or a barmaid, who could tell her otherwise, she thought to herself with an audible humph. "Did you hear that?" Draco egged on, pointing towards Angelique. "She doesn't think you could handle a little bottle of liquor. She thinks you ought to try something a little tamer, but -" He drew out the syllable of his last word purposefully, watching in delight as Hermione's eyes narrowed at the barmaid."I thought you had a little bit more fire in you than you're known for these days. I think you could handle it. Which one of us is right, Granger?" Hermione drummed her fingers on the top of the bar. She hated being manipulated, as Malfoy was so clearly trying to do, but she also hated being doubted…even if it was over something as inconsequential as this. If Harry were here, he would poke fun at her need to always be right, and she knew she would probably order a glass of water and let that be the end of it, but he wasn't here. Which left her with two options. "We'll have two glasses of whatever that is." Hermione finally said, ignoring the devious smile that broke out across Draco's face in favor of the skeptical barmaid. "He's paying." She added primly. She was going to be proving the barmaid wrong with her actions, not her pockets. "Suit yourself." Angelique hummed, reaching under the bar for two glasses, both much bigger than the shot glass she had used. She tapped her wand against the side of the bottle, and the liquid spurted from it like a fountain before pouring itself into the two glasses. "Have fun." Draco grabbed both glasses and pushed one over to Hermione. "I'll tell her you're nothing more than a cowardly lion if you don't take a sip." He warned her, nodding his head towards the redhead at the other end of the bar. His eyes remained on Angelique for a moment before returning them to Hermione. "You know, I quite liked her." "Then why don't you bother her because you're not getting what you want from me." She rolled her eyes at the innocent look he was sending her. "I know you're only here because you want to try and get whatever information you can from me before you slither your way back to McKinnon like a good little boy." Draco grinned over the top of his glass. "Drinking makes you feisty, Granger. I can't say I don't like it, but, as usual, you are sorely misguided. I'm simply here to have a drink," He told her, "I didn't know you would be here to share one with me, but I never pass up an opportunity to get under your skin, if only because you make it so easy." "You shouldn't take pride in making a witch see red, Malfoy." "I take pride in making witches do all sorts of things. Anything that has to do with you is just an additional bonus." "You're disgusting," Hermione told him as she brought her glass to her mouth and took a cautious drink. It wasn't sweet, as she had expected it to be, but it wasn't outright horrible. She took another drink when she saw Angelique looking at her from down the bar. She knew it was childish to want to prove her wrong so badly, but she had never been one to fold without a proper fight. "Quite possibly." Draco hummed in return as he nursed his drink. His nails clicked against the sides of his glass before he spoke again. "What do you plan on doing after all of this is over? The election, that is. Do you plan on becoming a stay-at-home wife to Weasley once your precious Henry Davies loses?" "Ron and I aren't even-" She stopped short, unsure of why she was about to explain her relationship status to him of all people. "Why are you so sure Henry is going to lose? He has just as much of a chance as McKinnon. Despite some recent setbacks, he's been polling well with the public and-" Draco waved his hand through the air dismissively. "Don't give me that man of the people bullshit, Granger. It's just you and me here. No press, I promise. Besides, Davies has those beady little eyes, so I know he's got some skeletons in his closet." He took another drink. "I'm right, aren't I?" He asked when she said nothing in return, "Under that good family man persona there are a few dark secrets. Second family, perhaps? He's at least got himself a younger mistress, hasn't he?" "I'm not answering any of those questions. You could be wearing some sort of...recording device." Hermione replied. She knew she should have said that Henry, unlike McKinnon, didn't have any skeletons in his closet, but she was finding it harder and harder to come up with quality rebuttals. "Do you want to check?" He asked teasingly, tilting his head to look at her in a way he had never done before. His usually pale cheeks were now stained pink, and she wondered if hers looked the same. "Have it your way, Granger," He said after she merely scowled at him, "But all I'm saying is that eventually, the truth will come out because no one is that spotless. And when it finally does, you and I both know his campaign will be over, and you will be out of a job, which begs the question…why are you so intent on going down with that sinking ship?" "Because I believe in Henry and his message!" "So you agree?" Draco asked smoothly, "You're on a sinking ship?" Hermione whipped her head around to look at him. "I don't-- he's not-- ugh !" She pushed his shoulder, and he laughed as he wobbled in his seat, his drink spilling against his hand. "You're infuriating." "I've been called much worse, and by you no less," He grinned, "How about we make a friendly wager?" She eyed him suspiciously, not liking the way his smile only seemed to widen as he took another drink. "On what?" "The outcome of the election, of course. Since you're clearly hell-bent on Davies winning, why not get something out of it?" "Because I'm sure that's illegal!" She wasn't sure, but it sounded likely. "Can you imagine if the press got wind of you and me making a bet about something like this?" She whispered. "You think the press is hiding out in here?" He motioned to the space around them. "Don't be daft, Granger. Put your money where your mouth is." "I'm not making a bet with you," Hermione humphed, "Besides being an awful idea, there's nothing you could give me that I couldn't get myself. And when Henry wins--" "Loses." Hermione threw both hands in the air. "He's not going to lose!" She didn't like the look on his face. It was the same one she used when she told Ron his cooking was edible. "He's not." She repeated childishly. "I would bet my life on it." "I would do much worse," She retorted, "If McKinnon won, which he's not, I would-" She paused to think of something truly outlandish that would fit the scenario perfectly, and her eyes lit up when she thought of it." I would marry you surrounded by every blonde-haired narcissist in your family." He snorted. "Then I might as well propose now." "Yes, ready the ring, Malfoy," Hermione replied sarcastically. Draco looked her directly in the eyes before he set his glass down and pulled on one of his fingers, tugging off a ring. She couldn't help but notice that the silver letter 'M' in the center glittered brilliantly, even in the dim lighting of the pub. He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and slipped the much too big ring over and down her ring finger. "Granger," He began, his eyes red and dancing with delight."Will you marry me?" Hermione played along, feeling silly and light-headed. "If only to use all of your riches in the fight against McKinnon and to add some galleons to the house-elf liberation fund." Draco reached for the bottle Angelique had left them and poured a generous amount into their now empty glasses. "Cheers then." :: Hermione stretched her arms above her head before she lowered them and used one to cover her still closed eyes. She had been fighting getting out of bed for what felt like hours, but it truly wasn't her fault that everything about her bed felt softer than usual. She had just gotten new cotton sheets last week and had known from the very first night she had slept on them that they were ungodly soft, but she had no idea that they could feel like silk. She turned onto her side and took the sheets with her, wrapping them around her shoulders and nestling them against her face. Cho, Hermione thought to herself, could handle answering owls and filling in appointments on Henry's calendar by herself this morning. In a few minutes, she would peel herself out of bed, get dressed, and head over to Molly's to pick up— Hermione's eyes shot open when the sheets she had wrapped around herself were pulled from her grasp, leaving her cold and confused. The groan that followed did not come from her, and she felt her heart speed up as her mind tried to work out who was sleeping next to her and why. She had gone out last night, that much she could remember, but the details surrounding the rest of the night were fuzzy at best. There was a barmaid, Amy, she thought it was, but that wasn't who was next to her. That groan had been distinctly male...and distantly familiar. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember where exactly she had heard it from. It reminded her of the last debate when McKinnon had fumbled over a question, and then she, feeling the need to gloat, had walked over to... No. No , her brain screamed. That couldn't be right. The man beside her groaned again, and she bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from doing the same. With all the courage she could summon, Hermione carefully sat up on the bed, doing her best to make sure it didn't squeak under her weight, and took a peek at the man sleeping next to her. He wasn't a stranger as she had still been hoping, praying, he would be. That she could explain to herself. A mistake. A once-off. Never have to see him again. But this man she knew. He had that shoulder-length blonde hair. And that pale skin. And that smarmy little face she had seen nearly every week for the last year and a half. "Shit," Hermione whispered to herself as she quietly rolled out of bed and started to grab her clothing that was thrown about his bedroom. How could this have happened? She knew they had gone to a pub...no, she had gone to a pub, and he had been there...or maybe he had come later. But she had only had one drink..or maybe it was more than one and- "Shit, shit, shit." Hermione cursed to herself as she pulled her shirt over her shoulders and smoothed it down her sides. It was horribly wrinkled, but that was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. She shimmied into her pleated skirt and grabbed one of her heels, holding it like a weapon when she heard him move on the bed. She blushed when she realized how ridiculous she must look and praised Merlin that he still seemed to be sleeping. She then limped around the room in her one heel, looking desperately for the other so she could apparate far away from his bedroom and take a long, and shaming, shower back at her flat. "By the armoire." Hermione slowly turned around. "You're awake." She tried to sound pleasant but came off as more panicked than anything else. "If I weren't, I would have to be dead," Draco yawned, "You're louder than any alarm charm I've ever cast." Hermione nearly opened her mouth to dispute his claim but decided against it. Small potatoes, she reminded herself. "Look, Malfoy." She slipped into her lost heel and stood at her full height. She thought she should explain a few things before he could say anything more. "This-" She motioned between the two of them. "Shouldn't, no, didn't happen. Let's chalk it up to being overworked and underpaid." And stupid. Very, very stupid. "For once, I agree with you." He yawned again, his eyes connecting with hers through the mirror she was using to mold her hair into what she hoped would eventually be a sensible bun. Hermione was glad he wasn't using this as an opportunity to take the piss out of her or be outwardly cruel, both of which she had been expecting the moment their morning after conversation had started. He just seemed to be too tired to do one or the other, and she really wanted to get out of there before he fully woke up and-- "Ouch." She cursed as her finger got caught in the tangles of her hair. She tried to pull it out, but the more she tugged, the worse the knot became. It was like her hair was caught on something. She reached over to her other hand and began the tedious process of freeing her finger. "How'd you get that?" Draco asked, sounding far more awake and alert than he had before. He was looking at her through the mirror; his attention completely focused on the hand she was holding up to inspect. Hermione looked down at the ring on her finger. It fit so tightly around it that she couldn't imagine how she could have gotten it on in the first place without bruising or breaking her knuckle in the process. But she didn't think that she was the one who put it on in the first place. "You gave it to me." She replied, without thinking. Draco's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. "Gave it to you, Granger? The only thing I gave to you last night was a proper sh-" He stopped himself when she shot him a warning look- "Why would I have given you my ring?" Why had he? Hermione squinted her eyes and thought hard. She could remember that--- "Take it off. Now, Granger." She sent him a scathing look through the mirror. She didn't like his tone or his attitude. "I'm trying." Hermione gave the ring a good tug, "It's stuck." She tugged again. "Don't look at me like that. I don't want it. What would I even do with it?" She tried twisting it off this time, but with no such luck. Hermione didn't realize he had gotten out of bed and walked over to her until his hand was on her wrist. "Is this a joke?" Draco shook her wrist, his grip tightening even as she winced. He reached down to tug at the ring himself, but all he got in return was another strangled cry from her. "Did you shrink it? I wouldn't put it past you to try and walk out of here with this. After all, I've heard the whispers that Davies is steadily running out of money to fund his campaign." Hermione pulled her wrist from his grasp and rubbed at her sore skin. "Merlin, what is wrong with you? It's just a ring! One that's stuck, obviously, but with enough soap and water--" He made to grab her again, but she was quicker than he expected and managed to take a step back before his hands could close around her arm. "Touch me again, and I'll hex off a few body parts you might want to keep." Hermione threatened, meaning each and every word. She didn't know what had gotten into him, but she wouldn't have him thinking she was some sort of doll he could throw around at his whim when he wasn't getting his way. And to even suggest that she would try and steal from him was-- "That's my family ring on your finger, Granger. If you don't--" "You're acting like I want it! I don't." Hermione turned her head at the sound of his alarm chiming and cursed. "I can't do this with you right now. I have to get to the office. Are you connected to the Floo network?" She asked, "Nevermind, it's better if I apparate." She pulled her wand out of her purse. "I'll owl your ring to you before the day is over. And Malfoy, don't talk about last night with anyone, or both of our careers could be over." She heard him call her name, but it was too late because as soon as she closed her eyes and imagined her flat in her mind, she was gone. :: "Do you think McKinnon is paying Goldstein to write these fluff pieces about him in the Daily Prophet?" Cho asked from across their empty office. They were the only ones there because everyone else had already left for lunch. "Because, honestly, who cares what color the rugs in his new mansion are?" She uncrossed her ankles and looked at Hermione from over the top of her newspaper. "They're beige, by the way, and just about as boring and drab as he is." "They probably are paying him, but that's actually a good idea," Hermione admitted reluctantly. She hated when their competition thought of something before them. "Do we know anyone at any of the other papers?" "Luna over at The Quibbler, but I think her audience would rather see a nargle get elected rather than an actual person." Cho looked towards the ceiling as she tried to think of any other contacts they had. "There's always McLaggen over at the--" "No." "But he-" "No," Hermione repeated, "I'm not going down that road again. If Henry winning rests solely on me sending Cormac anything other than a howler, he'll just have to lose." She was kidding, sort of. "Duly noted," Cho laughed as she crossed Cormac's name off the list she had just started. She spun her quill in between her two fingers before speaking again. "I'll send some owls and see who we can get in our corner." Cho looked towards their office door at the sound of knocking, and then she hurriedly reached into her desk to fish out her wallet. "We'll be right there!" She called out. "Who's that?" "Lunch. Don't worry it's on me." Cho shook her wallet in the air as she went to answer the door. "I ordered from that new restaurant in Diagon Alley next to that little-" Her explanation cut off when she swung open the door and saw who was standing on the other side. "What are you doing here?" "None of your concern, Chang," Draco responded as he kept the door Cho was actively trying to close open with his foot. He peeked his head inside and cranked his neck to the left, pointing his finger at Hermione when his eyes landed on her. "Up, Granger, we need to speak." Cho looked back at Hermione. "Should I call security?" Draco laughed. "As if your campaign has the budget for them, Chang." "It's fine, Cho. He's just here to talk about the next debate." "There isn't one on the schedule." "Which is why he's here," Hermione lied, "We're going to throw around a few dates to see if we can get something concrete down." Cho eyed Draco suspiciously. "Don't keep him for too long, Hermione. I suspect McKinnon will want him back on his leash within the next half hour." Cho gave Draco one last look before turning on her heel and walking back to her desk. "Always a pleasure, Chang," Draco said with a smile. "I'll be back soon," Hermione promised Cho before she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Hermione sent Draco a dark look before smacking him against the arm. "You can't be here! Are you mad?" She whispered furiously. "What if Henry saw you here and asking for me no less? I could have been fired!" "And you would have finally gotten off of this sinking ship." His eyes widened as if he remembered something before the look faded from his face altogether. "While I would love nothing more than to get you into trouble, I'm only here to talk about that." He pointed to the ring on her finger. "I told you I would send it to you as soon as I got it off. What else is there to talk about?" "This." Draco took out his wand and pointed it at her. "Accio ring." Hermione stared at him for a few moments, trying to decide whether she wanted to cast a spell right back at him or give her full attention to the ring that hadn't moved at all under his. "Why didn't that work?" "I don't know," Draco answered honestly, "After you left, I realized that you might be too...smart to try and steal anything from me, especially something that has my family crest on it, which means you were telling the truth. My ring is somehow stuck on you." "Of course I was tellin-" "So I contacted a friend of my family who suggested that I try that spell before I wasted his time by bringing you to him," He said over her, "We have to leave now to be there on time." "I'm not going anywhere with you." "Really? You want to spend however long with my family's crest on your finger? How long do you think it will take the press to pick up on your new piece of jewelry and start asking questions you don't have the answers to?" He smirked at her silence. "And then, of course, you'll look guilty, and Henry Davies will start to wonder if the ring was a sign of payment because you, being as naughty as you are, have been selling information to-" "Ok, fine." Hermione ground out. She looked around the hall to make sure no one had heard Malfoy spout off all of his hypotheticals. "Where is this 'friend of the family'?" "Knockturn Alley." He smiled. :: "I'm Donahue, and you are?" The man reached out his hand in greeting, and Hermione immediately put hers in his. Donahue was tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome in a way that Hermione would have appreciated and even commented on if it were any other situation. "Not important, Hue." Draco interrupted, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he saw the look on Hermione's face. Draco tapped her on the arm and pointed to a nearby chair. "Sit there so he can take a look." Hermione shot him a look but ultimately did as he asked. She needed to get back to the office before Cho, or anyone else, started to wonder where she had wandered off to, and she couldn't do that if she and Malfoy engaged in a power struggle. "How long has the ring been on your finger?" Donahue asked as he dug inside his desk drawer and pulled out what looked to be a pair of glasses with knobs on the side. They reminded Hermione of the omnioculars she used when she watched the boys play Quidditch. "Since last night or early this morning. I don't quite remember." Donahue hummed to himself as he pushed his glasses up his nose and dialed the knobs on the sides. He took Hermione's hand and zoomed in even further to get a good look at the sparkling ring. "What do you two remember about last night?" He asked as he twisted the ring to see how much it would move. "Nothing?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Not nothing," She mumbled, feeling the need to defend herself, "Just not much." Donahue smiled. "Ahh, to be young." He reached for his wand, ran it over Hermione's finger, and then frowned. "What's wrong, Hue?" Draco asked, leaning forward in his chair. "I need that ring." He cast a sideways look at Hermione before continuing. "I'm going to see my mother tomorrow, and she will notice if it's not on." "Narcissa does have eyes like an eagle." Donahue chuckled before trying another loosening spell on the ring. "It doesn't seem to want to come off under conventional methods, which means...." He murmured more to himself than the two of them. "Which means what?" Hue touched his wand to the ring again before looking at both of them curiously. "Which means it's not merely 'just stuck' as you thought." He tapped the tip of his wand on his desk before nodding his head as if he had reached some sort of conclusion. "Forgive me for this, but I must try. Nupitalem!" He pointed his wand at the both of them, and Hermione couldn't help but let out a yelp as a stream of magic shot towards them. Instead of hitting them, as Hermione assumed it would, it floated around them for a few moments before falling to the floor like rice thrown into the air. "Hue!" Draco shouted, jumping up from his seat, "What was that?" "You may want to sit down for this, Draco." "Why?" "Because I'm not sure if you're prepared to hear what I have to tell you." Draco sighed loudly before sitting back down. "Just get on with it, Hue." "Your ring isn't going to come off her finger with a simple loosening spell because it believes itself to be hers now." Donahue took off his glasses and set them down next to his wand." But while you may have just lost a precious family heirloom, it looks like you may have gotten a bride in return. So, I believe congratulations are in order, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." ::