Hello everyone! It's been a short while since I finished Matched and as I mentioned, I was working on a continuation of sorts to 'The Return of Blaise Zabini'. (If you haven't read that little one shot, I'd recommend that you do before reading this. It's a short read.) Well, it's written! All but the last chapter and a half but I'm leaving that open as I'm kind of feeling it out as to how I want this to end. I intended to write just a few chapters but somehow it grew to roughly 10. It won't be as long as Matched but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I'll post about once a week, maybe twice, as I work full time and I'm also a graduate student.

As usual, I own nothing and all rights to the fabulous J.K. Rowling. This is just for fun so please be kind. If you ever see any typos please PM me instead of leaving those in the reviews. While I'm staying true to the books for the most part, I don't claim for every single detail to be canon. Without further ado:

Annoying Granger

"Bleeding hell, Malfoy," Blaise shook his head as they both watched his wife converse with her friends again. "Are you going to explain just how you snagged that witch? Particularly when the last I checked you merely enjoyed teasing her into threatening to hex your balls off?"

Draco grinned at his friend before he eyed his wife, eyes trailing down her lovely form from head to toe. When she glanced from the corner of her eyes and caught him, he smirked when she winked discreetly.

He clapped his friend on the back and tipped his head. "The Wooing of Hermione Granger—it's a long story, Blaise. Take notes."

Eighteen Months Prior

For Hermione Granger, Friday nights were for unwinding. Monday through Friday, the witch rushed about the Ministry in her role as head Magical Elements Commissioner. On an easy day she was in her lab merely inspecting potions and their ingredients and approving or denying their widespread usage in the wizarding community. It was a position Kingsley had deemed especially important post-war when regulation of magical elements was nearly non-existent. Her brilliant mind was needed to keep the troublesome lot in check.

She also occasionally experimented herself when the need called, such as the antidote for the new string of dragon pox sweeping through Hogwarts recently.

However, on a bad day, she was faced with doing company inspections such as that of Draco Malfoy's potion-making conglomerate, which she surprisingly found he touted as a pharmaceutical company when around the random muggle. She regularly dealt with Malfoy's requests for approval on new ingredients and whether or not he'd receive his patent in a timely manner could be dependent on how much he'd annoyed her in their last interaction.

She didn't make a regular habit of having to interact with him, yet the nature of their respective jobs made it nearly impossible. He needed her to continue business—though the relationship of needs wasn't exactly reciprocal. She needed him about as much as she needed another quill on her desk.

The problem was further exacerbated by the fact that the blonde wizard frequented her favorite coffee shop. For whatever reason, he seemed to enjoy the ambience of the muggle coffee shop she frequented near her flat. They ran into each other often in the morning for their daily coffee. He usually had some biting quip on the ready to make her cheeks flame in irritation.

While she would readily admit that he wasn't the same snobbish prick he'd been in school, the war had really changed everyone, he still seemed to get his jollies by riling her up regularly.

"Granger, make sure they give you a double shot of that espresso. I don't want your knickers in a wad when you come to inspect my lab today."

"Oi, Granger, have you talked with Kingsley about inspecting that rat's nest on your head lately? I think I saw an illegal dragon's weed seedling crawling near your scalp."

"Granger, Granger, nose in a book again? Weaslebee's new girlfriend got you upset?"

On and on it went. And he never would leave her hair alone, despite that it no longer looked as bushy as it did in her youth. Her curls were well managed and soft, thank you very much, though they were still very abundant.

So imagine her irritation when the prat in question showed up on the same chilly Friday evening in February that she'd chosen to spend huddled in her favorite corner of the shop with a good book and a large mug of coffee.

Hermione groaned when she spotted the familiar blonde head as he stepped through the doorway, the bell above the entrance signaling his arrival. He reached to brush the snow off his all too expensive, black peacoat and made his way to the counter to order.

Her lip curled irritably as she looked him over. Dressed in black jeans and black Doc Martens to match his coat, his blonde hair made him look all the more pale in contrast. However, women still swooned over him. When her eyes lifted the tall length of him and passed over his broad shoulders, she shuttered at the annoying thought and diverted her focus back to her book.

Damn it to hell, she hated that she had to agree with the rest of the female population. There was a good reason that the Daily Prophet had voted him most eligible bachelor three years in a row. He'd grown into his sharp features since school and had done much to repair his family's image post-war.

Really he was a rather decent sort these days. Annoying as hell though! He'd been particularly more bothersome towards her as of recent.

With a sigh, she turned the page and lost herself once more in her book. It seemed he hadn't noticed her and for that she was thankful. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with his childish antics tonight.

Draco accepted his coffee with a friendly smile from the muggle barista. He stopped abruptly when his grey eyes scanned the warm café and a slow smirk lifted his lips.

With a quick lift of his eyebrows, he changed course and approached the witch he'd come to respect over the last seven years since the war. Respect didn't make her exempt from his teasing though.

No, Hermione Granger was his favorite to tease. He enjoyed the way her nostrils flared, her cheeks flushed—and that pout—just adorable. He'd been harboring a bit of a crush on her over the last couple of years. Maturity apparently did that to a man. The company of women like Astoria Greengrass, pureblood socialites used to being pampered hand and foot, just annoyed him immensely. He'd outright refused the match with her when his mother brought up their betrothal a year ago. Breaking that had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

But Hermione Granger, she was something else entirely. Hardworking and naturally brilliant beyond words, then there was her appearance to consider. Gone was the bushy hair and in its place were sleek curls, still rather abundant, but beautiful nonetheless. He reckoned her eyes were likely his favorite though. So warm when she was smiling around her friends.

Draco eyed her sitting in the corner, curled into an overstuffed wingback chair with a mug of coffee steaming on the side table. Per usual Granger fashion, she had her face obscured by a book.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Granger in her natural habitat," he drawled.

Hermione groaned and lowered the book to her lap. "As if work isn't enough, you have to lord your irritating self in my presence in my free time as well, Malfoy?"

Draco's smirk grew, if that were even possible, and he nudged her feet on the ottoman to take a seat. "Oh Granger, you wound me."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Hopefully five minutes of his mocking and he'd leave to go off and do whatever the hell it was that Malfoy did on a Friday night. Probably on his way to a date if she had to wager a guess.

"Oh yes, the great Draco Malfoy has been eviscerated by my verbal sparring and I live to see another day." She shook her head and gestured around the nearly deserted room. "What exactly are you doing here on a Friday night? On your way to your next date with a pureblooded princess?" She gave him a smile so sweet (and fake) it nearly rotted her teeth.

The blonde quirked a pale eyebrow high and eyed her from head to toe. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a cream colored sweater, she looked rather cozy. He shrugged, "I'm not so picky these days on the blood status of my dates, Granger. Care to test the theory?"

Hermione snorted and shook her head at him. "You're clearly mental, Malfoy. Been hitting those illegal South American gillyweeds? You know I banned those last month by the way."

With not having any witnesses, he felt emboldened. He shifted his coffee into his left hand and used his right to trail fingertips along her denim-clad calves, eyes trained on her own the entire time.

"I don't need magical hallucinogens to see what's clearly in front of me, Granger."

Unnerved by him touching her, she jerked her legs away and sat up straighter. "Just get the mocking out of your system and be on your way, Malfoy. I'm trying to enjoy a relaxing evening with my book. It's bloody cold out there and frankly you're dampening my evening."

The blonde's mouth twisted into a sneer and he stood with his free hand now in the pocket of his coat. He sipped his coffee as he watched her pick up her book and reach for her coffee. He waited until she went for a sip and made his move.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

Hermione sputtered and nearly inhaled her sip of coffee. "W-what?"

Smirk in full force, he pressed on. "It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and imagine my displeasure to find myself dateless, Granger. Join me for dinner, won't you?"

She laughed then and shook her head as she lifted her book. "Go home, Malfoy, or wherever you're headed to. You've had your laugh now."

Not to be deterred, Draco narrowed his gaze at her. "Tomorrow night, seven o'clock sharp, I'll meet you in front of the Leaky Cauldron."

He didn't wait for a response and turned to leave. When Hermione looked up to argue, he was out the door, the bell jingling in his wake.

She shook her head and resumed her focus. "Bloody man has lost it," she muttered.

Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!