Hermione has almost forgotten how she landed a date with her ex-death eater coworker. She always knew Pansy Parkinson would be a thorn in her side, but she never knew the witch would be the ultimate matchmaker.

"What about Blaise?"

"No."

"Adrian, maybe?"

"No."

"How about Draco?"

"I don't think Malfoy's dating." Hermione sighs, placing her quill down in defeat as she glares up at Pansy, who is currently trying to get her back into the dating world.

"Oh come on," Pansy sniffs, leaning against Hermione's desk. "You and Ron broke up years ago, and I've heard you admit the following two things; you and Ron are better off as friends, and Draco is 'quite handsome'." Pansy holds her hands up, making air quotes around the last two words. Hermione glances at the back of the blonde's head, his shoulders straight as he pours over documents.

Working at the ministry did have its perks, but being in such a close, constant proximity to the forever gossiping Pansy was not one of them. Pansy rolls her eyes, placing a manicured hand flat on the desk.

"He hasn't dated anyone since Astoria, and based on previous experience, I know he can be a doll of a boyfriend. He just hasn't..." Pansy pauses, glancing over at the man of her subject, "branched out."

"Well can you blame him? And no, I'm not hung up on Ron." Hermione snaps, grabbing her quill. Astoria Greengrass and the sole heir to the Malfoy estate had been something of a coveted item for nearly two years. It was assumed that they would marry, and based on how Malfoy had been with her, it seems that marriage had been his intention as well.

Everyone knew of Astorias blood curse, so when she fell ill, it truly came at no surprise to the public. However, when she publicly broke up with Draco by posting an article in the Daily Profit, well, that indeed came as a shock. Both Astoria and her sister Daphne left for Switzerland a few months after she had grown sick, and when Daphne had returned alone, nearly a month later, everyone understood why.

"I still don't think Astoria should have done that. Left him so he could 'be free of an illness that has so raptured my body' as she so kindly put it." Pansy says, and Hermione rolls her eyes.

"Do be kind, Pans." She replies, looking away from Malfoy's head, her voice low. "She knew what was going to happen. She wanted to spare him the pain, I suppose." Pansy nods, her bob moving along with her.

"Please Granger, let me set you up on a blind date with someone." Pansy pleads, eyes shining. "And if you don't like them, you can hex me into next year."

"I'm just so busy with work at The Ministry and Ginny's pregnancy." Hermione replies, hoping Pansy would bugger off soon and let her work in peace. Pansy stands, holding her hands in defeat.

"Just promise if someone asks, you'll give them a shot." She asks, clasping her hands, earning yet another eye roll from Hermione.

"Fine." Hermione replies, waving Pansy away. "If someone asks, I'll give them a shot. Maybe."

-

Hermione is early to the office the next morning, surprisingly, since she stayed up all night with Ginny on the telephone. Harry and Hermione had finally convinced Ginny to allow the Potter household muggle-machinery, a telephone being one of them, and Ginny was often hooked into having late night conversations.

Yawning, Hermione pushes open the door, waving to the clerk that sat behind the front desk as she makes her way to her own desk. To her surprise, Malfoy is leaning against her desk, his arms folded over his chest and eyes staring into the distance.

"Goodmorning," Hermione says politely, placing her briefcase on the surface. "Is there something...I can help you with?" Malfoy turns to look at her, a slight scowl dancing across his features, uncrossing his arms as he says, "Pansy has an extraordinarily obnoxious voice."

Hermione laughs. "Well, you should know since you did date her." Draco rolls his eyes, replying with a tone dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose, but I must've forgotten how much she can harp on and on about anything." Nodding in reply, Hermione flicks open her briefcase.

"Well, what does Pansy say this time?" She asks, carefully unloading the documents she needs for today's work. She can see Malfoy stand straight, fixing his color slightly and he takes a breath.

"Let's have it out, Granger."

"Have what?"

Malfoy stares, his grey eyes hard and she can almost physically feel his annoyance grow. "She won't leave me alone. She nearly wrote me a dozen letters saying you and I would be...decent, together. So, let's try it, tomorrow night, maybe, after work?"

He's looking at her with such exasperation, Hermione's cheeks begin to warm. "I'm missing something, aren't I?" She asks, and he nods fevertly.

"A date, Granger." He says, his eyes boring into hers. "Go on a date with me and you can tell Pansy how much you dislike me after, then she'll leave us both alone."

Hermione could smack herself with how oblivious she feels, and by the expression on his face, Malfoy would smack her too.

"Malfoy, we don't need t–"

"Tomorrow then, after work?" He interrupts, straightening his cufflinks. The whole situation is so bizarre, so out of character and odd, that Hermione has no reply. He takes it as a yes, nodding once. "The Three broomsticks should work. Let's say 7pm." And he walks off, leaving Hermione gaping awkwardly at her desk.

Ah yes, that was how she landed the date. The rest was history, at least in her world.

In the months that follow, Hermione and Draco date. After a cautiously yet enjoyable evening at the Three broomsticks, Draco tells her he hasn't talked this much to one individual in months. They go out again and again, each place slightly nicer and more upscale than the last, Draco fronting the tab every time. Hermione isn't sure how they click, how their war-wounded souls fit one another, but they do, and she simply can't get enough of it.

After nearly three months of fine dining and timid hand holding, Hermione begins to fret that he wants out.

"Hermione, why on earth would you think that?" Ginny asks, her feet propped up on the loveseat she picked out for Easter, her hand caressing her swollen belly. "He's obviously smitten with you."

"Well, he hasn't really...made any moves." Hermione whispers, wringing her hands as she sits across from her oldest friend, fretting about her relationship. "Sometimes he holds my hand but we haven't even kissed."

"You haven't even kissed?" Ginny echos, sitting up slightly. "My goodness what are you a nun?"

"No no," Hermione sighs, waving away the comment. "It's just...with how his last relationship ended, I don't want to push him into anything that he's uncomfortable with." Hermione knows Draco likes her, maybe even deeply cares for her, but living in the glittering shadow of Astoria's ghost was hard. She always feared she could never live up to the standards of his past, a beautiful socialite who died far too early then was fair.

"I get your anxiety, 'Mione, really I do but,"Ginny says softly, reaching out to Hermione. "Astorias gone. You know it, Draco knows it, and he wants you. If you're tired of waiting, why don't you kiss him?"

"Me?" Hermione gasps. "I couldn't, I just, I wouldn't know how to even go about that. Plus, he might not want me to."

"Oh he does," Ginny counters, wiggling her brows. "Harrys told me something and I've gotta say 'Mione. You should jump on that."

The next evening as Hermione cleans up their dishes from dinner in her flat, she decides to jump on it.

"Draco, do you not find me attractive?" She instantly regrets the words as they leave her mouth. He looks at her in confusion, his white blond brows furrow together as he leans forward.

"Heavens no, I find you incredibly..." he falters, looking from her face quickly down her body and then up again. "I find you incredible."

"Well I just...well what are you waiting for then?" She replies, determination seeping into her voice. "I am fine with taking things slowly, for I am a slow and steady person myself, but I just want to know if there's a reason, is it my hair?" She reaches up, pushing a curl back. "I know it's incredibly unruly."

She opens her mouth to continue with her protest, but Draco leans forward—the both of them standing by the kitchen table—and takes her hands in his. He's tall, several inches taller than her, and she has to crane her neck to look into his face. Adoration sparkles in his grey eyes, and he smiles.

"Granger, do you want me to kiss you?" He asks, his voice soft. Her stomach flips, the room suddenly growing warmer.

"Only if yo—"

"Don't think," he interrupts, squeezing her hand softly. "Just answer." She pauses, looking between their clasped hands and his tall frame.

Dropping her hands, he slowly cups her face, his long fingers supporting her jaw and inching slightly past her hairline. "Do you want me to kiss you, Hermione."

It's posed as a demand, not a question, and he's so close she can feel the soft caress of his breath across her lips.

"Yes." She whispers, abandoning fear and she closes her eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips against hers.

It's slow, and soft, his hands dropping hers as he frames her face, and it's everything she'd hoped for but more. Draco cranes her face close to his, fingernails scraping gently at the hairline on the base of her neck, and she envelopes her hands over his. When he pulls away, dreadfully too soon, she leans forward to nuzzle her face into the base of his neck, hands leaning against his chest as she breathes in his scent.