One-Shot: Find Someone New

It was past the 5:00 bell on a Friday afternoon, and Hermione Granger was just finishing up some paperwork at her desk. Pausing in shuffling some files around, her eyes fell on the picture frame just above one cubby. Sighing sadly, she lightly touched a finger to the picture of her on her wedding day with her husband, Ron.

Her husband who had been dead these past five years ago today.

They had known each other since they were children, for three decades: best mates for seven, lovers for four, and husband and wife for nearly twenty. It had been on a cold morning in 2021 when Hermione had awoken in their bed to find that Ron had passed in his sleep. The consensus at St. Mungo's - a scene that she barely remembered - had been that he had had a heart attack in the night. Hermione still had a hard time believing it, no matter what the autopsy had said. Scarcely 40 was too young to have had a heart attack.

For the next five years, Hermione had raised the two children Ron had left her with - their daughter, Rose, and their son, Hugo. Her in-laws had rallied around her and helped wherever they could, her brother-in-law, Harry Potter, most of all. It really did take a village. Aside from child rearing, Hermione had thrown herself into her work at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Extracurriculars like dating were thrown to the wayside, even though once in a while her girlfriends would say that she was only 46, would be 47 in September. She still had time. But Hermione had been able to banish this temptation.

At least, until Draco Malfoy came along.

He had been assigned to her office as a curse-breaker, which seemed like a deeply ironic career move for him. Hermione's duties forced her to work closely with him, examining potentially threatening magical objects and reporting them to higher-ups if there was a threat. Getting rid of the curses before filing the case away. It was a matter of security.

Their interactions had started out cordial, with both refusing to cancel the practice of barbing each other by their last names, she her maiden one. Granger. It had infuriated her a little, even more so when it was apparent that he enjoyed riling her up. For her part, she had found it difficult to forgive him for his dark past, even though the malice in his verbal jabs had faded. Finally, one day (she couldn't exactly pinpoint when), he had started calling her Hermione: "For Merlin's sake, Hermione, can't we refer to each other with first names for once in our lives?" It had taken her a full minute to find her voice and apologize. "I'm sorry... Draco."

That was when she had first become less wary of him, and more curious. Through the months, Hermione had learned that Draco was divorced, had one son by the former Astoria Greengrass. Scorpius was Rose's year at Hogwarts. Gradually, she had opened up about her own kids and what they were doing. He even got her to tell him the whole story of Ron's death, though there wasn't much to tell. To her surprise, Draco expressed his genuine condolences.

Draco and Hermione still got on each other's nerves sometimes, but there was a teasing familiarity with it now. It almost reminded Hermione of how she and Ron had used to row when they were little. It was almost... flirtatious.

Wait... flirting? She would never flirt with Draco Malfoy, however handsome he might look. Handsome? What was she thinking?

Her office floor was deserted by now, as Hermione finally set aside her work for the evening. 5:20. She could get back to her flat and cook dinner, spend another night alone with only the second Crookshanks for company. Shrugging on her coat, gathering her handbag, she turned the corner out of her cubicle...

And ran right into Draco Malfoy. He glanced down at her, a little annoyed. "The bloody hell are you still doing here, Granger?" Every now and then, the old habit came back, but usually only when he seemed on edge. Like now.

Hermione huffed. "Some of us stay and work late, Draco. You should try it sometime."

In the fluorescent lighting, Draco noticed something glistening in her deep chocolate brown eyes. "Have you... been crying?"

She shook her head. She had always been a horrible liar. "Potter land himself in Mungo's again, did he?" Draco tried to guess the issue.

"No. It's the anniversary of Ron's death, if you must know."

Draco's temper dimmed right away. He had forgotten that was today. "Oh. Got any plans?" He immediately kicked himself for his insensitivity. Death days were not meant to be celebrated, unless you were at Hogwarts and the occasion was presided over by Nearly Headless Nick.

Hermione glowered at him. "Not unless you count drinking my weight in liquor in an empty flat."

Draco frowned. "Why drink in an empty flat when you could go to happy hour with some company?"

Hermione blinked. Wait... was he asking what she thought he was asking...? "Are you asking me out?" she demanded. She had meant for it to come out as bothered, but instead she was... surprised.

Draco smirked. "You've been in the cubicle too long, Granger. Clearly, you've lost your touch."

Hermione gawked, then huffed. She started when Draco, looking unexpectedly apologetic, took her hand. "I'm sorry... Hermione. Let me buy you a drink."

She couldn't help but peer into his silvery eyes, wondering if he was sincere. His face seemed almost boyishly hopeful, and there was only... kindness there. Maybe one round would't be so...

She shook her head to clear it. "Enjoy your weekend, Draco, I... I have to go..."

It happened so fast, she didn't have a chance to react. Draco caught her hand, and spun her around so fast that she was rammed right up against his chest. His free hand caught her by the small of her back. She only had enough time to stare up at him in confusion and fear, before his mouth descended on hers in a fiery kiss.

Their joined hands let go, and Draco's palm disappeared into the updo of her hair, keeping her skull in place. For a moment, Hermione froze, pinned against his lips, her eyes popping open as she gasped and then squeaked in surprise.

But then, in the next second... her eyes fluttered shut. Her arms wound unconsciously about Draco's shoulders, her fingers fisting the fabric of his camel-hair suit coat. She moaned in pleasure. "Mmmmmm..." Quite boldly, her one heel and the creamy thigh with it hitched up around Draco's waist. In perfect harmony, Draco's calloused palm dipped below Hermione's waist and he gave her arse a loving and firm squeeze, cupping the cheek audaciously. Encouraged when she didn't pull away, and when she even wriggled her hips against his a little, Draco's tongue parted Hermione's lips wide and slid into her mouth, as they deepened the kiss.

After several minutes of heated snogging in the middle of the deserted office, Draco and Hermione broke apart. Hermione stumbled back out of the kiss, gasping, panting. She gazed, speechless, at Draco as though she had never seen him before. She had never had a man kiss her - nor had she kissed a man back - since her husband.

For his part, Draco was acting as cool as could be; all that betrayed his demeanor was his toned chest heaving with every breath and a slight redness to his face. He finally smirked. "Bet Weasley never kissed you like that."

Hermione whimpered. "Shut... shut up!" she spluttered, though her cheeks were now rosy pink. A weak smile was forcing its way onto her face, her flushed and very kissed lips, letting Draco know - whether she wanted to or not - that she had liked it. Liked kissing him. Well, clearly from the way she had enthusiastically responded to the kiss, from the way she had grabbed at him and practically leapt into his arms, she had... approved of it. Enjoyed it. It was a good kiss. A nice kiss. She -

"Hermione." And Draco's voice was uncharacteristically soft as he took her hand again, collected her handbag from where it had fallen out of her grasp and onto the floor. "Have a drink with me." Then: "Please?"

Hermione considered him, her expression skeptical, curious and even a little amused. It had been nearly twenty-five years since she had gone on a date... and though he could be a little impossible, she had to admit... Draco had changed. For the better. Gone was the wet-behind-the-ears, arrogant Death Eater wannabe. In his place was a diligent man. A genuine man. A good father. There was a kindness there that she had never seen before. The worst she could say about Draco now was that he could still be a little snippy. Hermione suddenly fancied the idea of a date with Draco Malfoy more and more. Slowly, she found herself nodding her head.

"Yes, all right, then." Her voice was still slightly breathless, her face somewhat flushed from the kiss.

Draco beamed. Smiled - a real, true, genuine smile - and offered her his arm. "Madame? Shall we?"

Smirking, Hermione shyly took his arm. Maybe... Draco Malfoy could be a good partner. Maybe someday...

And together, the pair departed for the Leaky Cauldron and a tentative first date.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes..."

"Oh noooooo..."

"Oh yessss..."

"Mmmmm... Uhhhhh... Huhhh... Draco..."

The little bedroom was a mess. A belt here. A lacy bra there. A high heel on its side in one corner. On the mattress atop a creaking metal bed frame, a man and a woman undulated in heat.

Draco and Hermione had closed down the Leaky Cauldron, returning to her flat laughing and stumbling drunk. Once inside, Hermione had boldly taken the initiative. Feeling brave thanks to the drink, she had slung an arm around Draco's neck and kissed him roughly on the lips.

A pause. The pop of Hermione's lips disengaging could be heard in the silent flat. Draco and Hermione regarded each other, their eyes clouded over by lust. Then, as one, Draco and Hermione embraced and shared a long, passionate kiss. Hermione's hand had boldly snapped forward, cupping Draco between his legs and clasping his burgeoning length.

"Hmmm... bedroom," Hermione hissed into the kiss. "Now."

They had staggered upstairs, furiously snogging. Off shucked the camelhair suit coat. Hermione's coat pooled on the floor. Hermione kicked off her one high heel, then its twin, as Draco's arms rummaged up and down her back.

"Un...unzip me, will you?" she panted. Still kissing her, Draco obeyed, and Hermione shimmied out of her dress, letting it collapse around her ankles. She made quick work of his belt buckle, threw down his trousers, and they had stumbled back, fallen, onto her bed.

Hermione's thighs instinctively squeezed around Draco's middle. Merlin, she hadn't had sex in so bloody long. She gasped, choked on air, as Draco penetrated her womanhood without mercy. She squirmed, prompting Draco to adjust himself inside her tight, hot core before he had begun thrusting furiously. His hands were tangled in her hair; his mouth was on the nipple of her breast. She groaned, arching her back into him, and he quickly mashed his mouth back to hers, his tongue slamming down her throat.

"Hmmm... Mmmmmm... Oh, Gods... Oh, Godric... Oh, Godric, yes, Draco!"

Draco gritted his teeth as he bore down. "Cum for me, love. Cum for me... Hermione."

Hearing her true name on his lips had made her come undone. "DRACO!" she screamed as she exploded all around him. Screamed until her throat was raw.

Now, in a tangle of limbs and skin and sheets, her lips still flush and swollen from kissing, Hermione gazed down at her new lover. A lover whom was the last person she would have expected it to be, despite how her... attraction for him had grown unconsciously these many months. They would continue to go out, see if this worked. And perhaps... one day soon... she would be married again. No longer feel lonely.

Pressing a light kiss to a sleeping Draco's lips, a spent and sore Hermione cuddled into his side and fell asleep.