Author's Note: Just a quick thing for Draco Malfoy's birthday. Neither alpha'd nor beta'd, and mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Draco Malfoy was grouchy.

Not only was he grouchy, but he was capricious, irritable, and he was brooding. She could almost see, if she looked close enough, the ominous grey cloud brewing over his head and Hermione rolled her eyes as she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

It would be one of those days.

They'd been co-workers together in the Department of International Magical Cooperation for five years now, and most of the time he was easy enough to get along with. He'd certainly matured since their Hogwarts days – but the war had changed everyone, and Draco Malfoy had been no exception.

Hermione could still remember the first day she'd seen him working at his desk and her eyes had narrowed in response – but after five years, she considered him an acquaintance at the very least.

They'd worked on enough projects together to develop a casual sort of rapport.

But they weren't friends.

So as Hermione's heels clicked past his desk, she opted to ignore the storm clouds above his work space as she commented, "Lovely day!"

He'd grunted in response.

The toe of his patent dragonhide oxfords tapped an obnoxious rhythm on the tiled floor behind her as she waited in line at the snack trolley.

When she fired him a look, he cocked a pale brow. Mustering her tightest smile, Hermione turned back to him with her arms folded across her front.

"Are you having a nice day, Malfoy?"

"Fine," he drawled.

They shifted forward a step in line.

"How's that report on the interplay between Eastern and Western European magical restrictions coming along?" she asked, turning to him with an expectant stare.

Malfoy released a long-suffering sigh, coupled with a scowl. "As well as you might imagine."

"Fantastic!"

His brows flickered dully as if it was anything but. He glared around the office, checking the expensive timepiece at his wrist, before the incessant tapping commenced once more.

Hermione felt herself frowning, drawn into the gloomy atmosphere he was creating, until she reached the front of the line. Turning back to him with a chipper smile once she'd received her scone, she announced, "I'll see you at the afternoon board meeting!"

Malfoy sucked on his teeth for a long moment. He nodded with a gritted, "Granger."

He was seated beside her, tapping the edge of the mahogany table with the end of his self-inking quill. Hermione had never quite realized the extent to which Malfoy was prone to absent fidgeting.

She glared at him – he scowled in return.

Once the tedium that was the Wednesday afternoon meeting had concluded, Malfoy made for the door, but was stopped up by a bottleneck of slow moving bodies.

Hermione approached with a bland smile. "Any exciting plans tonight? It's shaping up to be a beautiful evening."

"No plans." He peered around the crowd, as if to determine the source of congestion.

"Well, I'm sure that'll be nice." She glanced through the mob of people, noticing a raucous conversation taking place in the doorway and shook her head, turning back to him. "I actually do have plans tonight, thanks for asking!"

With a huff, his lips pursed and twitched. "Fine, I'll bite." He put on a mocking, facetious tone. "What are you doing tonight, Granger?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Some Quidditch thing or other. I won tickets in a contest on the wireless. Suppose it'll be alright."

Freezing, his jaw dropped. "The Falmouth and Puddlemere semi-final? Are you serious? That's only the most anticipated rivalry match –" He cut himself off with a frown. "I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."

"Oh." She gave an awkward sort of titter. "I don't follow Quidditch very well, I'm afraid. You won't be in attendance then?"

With a scowl, he shook his head. "I've been trying for months to get tickets."

Hermione offered him a bright smile. "Maybe something will work out last minute."

Malfoy hesitated, turning to face her with one cocked brow. "Is there something you need, Granger? You've been awfully… chatty today."

"Well," she hedged, watching as he rolled his eyes. "Now that you mention it – I do need help with something. Do you suppose you could come by my office before you leave for the day?"

"Knew it," he muttered under his breath, before offering a grimace that she suspected might have been intended as a smile. "Fine, Granger. I'll be there."

Clapping her hands together as the line finally started to move, she said, "Excellent! Thanks ever so."

By the time Malfoy arrived in her doorway at the end of the day, his tie had been removed and he'd loosened the top two buttons of his shirt. He leaned one arm on the frame as he peered inside, as if anxious to leave.

"What did you need, Granger?"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up from her paperwork. "Thank you for coming by! Please, come in."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Malfoy crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. He stood like an awkward statue, stiff-shouldered and upright.

Rising from her seat, Hermione walked to the filing cabinet. "I just needed you to –" She slipped open the top drawer, pulling out a small cardstock box. "Hold this."

Lifting a brow, Malfoy shifted on the spot. "You asked me here to hold a small box."

"Well, I need you to open it."

She watched as his grey eyes widened with something akin to incredulity as he slipped the lid off the box, and they flickered up to meet his. He drew out a large chocolate cupcake with green frosting, and a single birthday candle, setting it on the desk before them.

"Granger you –"

"It's nothing like what the Manor elves can prepare, I'm sure," she bustled quickly, "but… happy birthday, Malfoy."

A furrow of consternation sat in his brow as he stared at the offering. "You remembered my birthday."

"Someone had to," she scoffed, feeling a flicker of colour rise to her cheeks. "Just because everyone else in the department forgot."

Malfoy swallowed, peering at the cupcake. "It's great. Thanks, Granger."

She went on, averting her gaze before she could lose her nerve. "There is one other thing."

A hint of a smirk curled his lips as he looked up at her again. "What else?"

Waving a flippant hand, she toed the floor. "I've got this blasted second ticket to that Quidditch match tonight, and I can't very well offer it to Harry or Ron because they'll fight over it, and since it's tonight, I thought you might like to go..."

Malfoy was gaping at her.

"And I thought maybe we could get dinner there, too, but only if you wanted to and –" she barrelled on, feeling heat creep up her neck.

"Granger." His chin was down, his expression serious as he intoned, "You want me to go with you."

Steeling her nerves and summoning courage, Hermione looked him in the eye. "Yes. I do."

He was silent for a long moment, and then his voice was quiet. "Is this a date?"

"It doesn't have to be," she whispered, and the words hung between them.

A curious heat came to his gaze as he stared at her. "And if I want it to be?"

Glancing away, Hermione found herself staring at some reports on her desk. "Then I would inform you the rest of your dozen cupcakes are in my flat."

She looked up in time to see his throat bob as he swallowed. "What time shall I pick you up?"

"The match is in Falmouth at seven." Her mouth was dry with the way he was looking at her and she felt so warm she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

He quirked a questioning brow. "I'll floo in at six."

"Perfect."

He smiled – and she smiled in return. And the grey cloud drifted away with the sparkle in his eye.