Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

AN - This is a repost. It was previously in a collection called The Shippers Dictionary.

Taking A Hippogriff By It's Feathers

Hermione sighed as she sat alone in her booth, an almost empty glass in front of her. She was never supposed to end up here. At almost thirty years of age, the life she'd planned for herself was unrecognisable in the life she was actually living. She still worked in the Ministry, in the Department of Law Enforcement, a job she once found interesting and fulfilling but now found... monotonous.

No husband. Merlin, not even a boyfriend. No kids. No pets. No house with a white fence and a car parked on the drive.

Thinking about ordering another drink in the hopes it would silence the self pity party she was indulging herself in, she was surprised when the waiter walked by her booth, smoothly placing a full glass beside her almost empty one.

"I didn't-"

The waiter cut her off with a kind smile. "Compliments of the gentleman at the bar."

Hermione turned her attention to the man the waiter gestured discreetly at. A tall man stood chatting with the bartender. He was wearing a - clearly expensive - immaculate suit and appeared to be drinking whiskey.

One look at his hair gave Hermione a clear idea of just who the 'gentleman' was and when he turned to look at her, his icy grey eyes meeting her own, her idea was confirmed. Winking at her, he turned away, going back to his conversation. She suppressed the urge to groan as she turned her attention back to the window, gazing through the window with unseeing eyes.

Lucius Bloody Malfoy. Of course.

xxxx

Lucius stood at the bar watching the young woman out of the corner of his eye. It had been a coincidence that he'd seen her through the window as he passed the bar, but it was a happy coincidence, at least in his view. Miss Granger had had grown into a beautiful woman, and she intrigued him more with each time he saw her, which, considering that they both worked in the Ministry of Magic, was quite a lot.

She looked... melancholy. He didn't like it. The twinkle he often caught in her eyes, the bright smile she sported on her pretty face, were both missing. She looked... defeated even, and the very thought that such a strong woman could look like that just didn't sit well with Lucius. Seeing that her drink was almost empty and not wanting her to leave just yet, he asked the bartender to send another one over to her, before engaging him in simple conversation about the merits of different whiskey brands.

He knew exactly when she turned her eyes on him, could feel her gaze burning into his back. She would know who he was, or at the very least suspect, after all not many men had long blonde hair, so he turned to look at her, amusement filling him as he took in the look on her face. With a cheeky wink, he turned his attention back to the bartender.

The Quaffle was in her hands, so to speak.

xxxx

Hermione watched the bartender walk away to serve another patron, leaving Lucius alone. Gathering her Gryffindor courage, she picked up her drink and moved over to the bar, hoisting herself up on the seat closest to where he stood.

"Mr Malfoy," she greeted politely, offering him a small smile when he looked at her.

"Miss Granger," he replied, returning her smile as he tilted his glass towards her slightly.

"Thank you for the drink."

"The pleasure was mine entirely, Miss Granger. Besides, you looked like you needed it."

She flushed, looking away from his quickly as her hair slipped over her shoulder to partially hide her face. She heard him move closer to her, could practically feel the heat radiating from him as he settled himself on a stool beside her.

"Knut for your thoughts?" he asked quietly.

She chuckled despite herself, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "I'm sure they're not worth that much, Mr Malfoy," she told him, bitterness tingeing her words.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger. I believe anything you say to be worth much more than a mere Knut. Humour me?"

And she did, surprisingly enough. She shared with him the thoughts that had brought her to the bar in the first place, told him of how unsatisfied she was with the direction, or rather, lack of direction her life was taking. She confessed to not having a clue how to change things, or what would need changing in order for her to feel more... fulfilment.

He didn't mock her, nor did he offer meaningless platitudes. He listened, properly listened in a way no one had for a long time, and he told her his thoughts without buttering them up with nice words to blanket them.

"The way I see it, Miss Granger, the only person that can truly change your life, is you. That was a lesson I learned a long time ago, and I learned it the hard way. My life now is the way I choose it to be, though there are certain things I would change of course. Take the hippogriff by the feathers, Miss Granger, and change its direction by force."

She smiled at him, a true smile, and changed the subject. They spoke of Ministry gossip, of the Winzengamot, and the latest bills that had been brought in. Only when the bartender told them that he would be calling last orders did Hermione realise how long they'd been talking.

She blushed at the smirk adorning Lucius' face as he paid the bill for both of them, though she argued that she should at least pay half.

"A gentleman would never allow a lady to pay, Miss Granger," he told her, as he signed the slip printed for him. It crossed her mind that he was the last person she would ever expect to carry a Muggle bankcard with him, but then he had been surprising her all night.

He helped her into her jacket and offered his arm to her as they left the bar. She didn't hesitate as she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow with a small smile. They walked in a companionable silence to the closest apparition point, three blocks away.

"I would very much like to take you out again, Miss Granger," he said when they stopped, his eyes meeting hers as she tilted her head up to look at him.

"I'd like that too," she replied, a coy smile gracing her lips. "And please, call me Hermione."

"Hermione," he whispered, as he leant down to ghost his lips against her cheek. As he moved away, she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling his lips to her own in a less than chaste kiss.

When they separated, she grinned at the look of shock on his aristocratic features. "You told me to take the hippogriff by the feathers, Mr Malfoy."

"Hmm, that is the first time I have been referred to as a hippogriff."

"Noble, strong, I can see the resemblance," she told him, the cheeky grin still lingering on her face. It widened when he laughed.

"Then by all means, Hermione, allow me to take you on the flight of your life. I'll pick you up tomorrow evening at seven pm?"

"Okay," she said, nodding. "I'll see you then."

As she turned on the spot to apparate away, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "And Hermione? Call me Lucius."