This is a one shot I wrote for a friend that I posted on Tumblr last week but I thought I would share it here too. She gave me a prompt and this is what I came up with. The prompt was: we were both meant to be going on blind dates with other people but sat down at the wrong table and got our hopes up.

Warning: This is rated M for a reason, there are lemons ahead. If that's not your thing give this one a miss.

He came to a startled halt, almost tripping over his own feet when he saw the woman seated at the table in front of him. He'd known her since they were eleven years old, but even if he'd only met her once or twice before he never could have mistaken that hair as belonging to anybody else. There was a book on the table in front of her- how predictable- and on top of that was a red rose which she was fiddling with nervously. Typical bleeding heart Granger had been conned into buying a flower off the streets.

She was the only single witch in the whole restaurant so she must be his date. He couldn't imagine what Nott had been thinking setting him up with Granger, but at the very least they would have an interesting meal. Granger was always good for a laugh, she was so easily riled. And then maybe they could have some fun later too. He surreptitiously straightened his tie and smoothed his lapels, pleased that he'd worn a muggle suit despite the magical establishment; he'd noticed how her eyes lingered on him when he came into her shop wearing muggle attire. He wanted her attention on him.

He slid into the seat across from her and was rather gratified to hear her gasp. It was a rare thing to catch Granger off her guard.

"Malfoy," she said, she'd sat all the way back in her chair, getting as far away from him as she possibly could without leaving the table, and she was the only woman in England from whom he wouldn't find this reaction insulting. He knew very well that she was not afraid of him. Quite the opposite actually. And she'd made something of a sport of exceeding his expectations.

The first time she'd done it unknowingly. She'd opened her own bookshop, following her passion rather than shackling herself to the Ministry like everybody had expected. And he admired that, so he'd tracked it down out of curiosity.

He'd never intended to go inside as he wasn't welcome in so many respectable businesses- Hermione Granger's bookshop should have been completely out of the realm of possibility- and he wasn't willing to open himself up to that kind of embarrassment. But then he'd spotted a sign in the window advertising that she was willing to find rare books, and he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to test her. She hadn't turned him away.

And she found all of the increasingly difficult to locate tomes he'd requested over the past few years. In fact, she'd met each challenge with aplomb and he couldn't help but continue to push her. He'd spent an outrageous amount of money on a volume about the history of the Roman Empire for his father for Christmas last year in his quest to trip her up. The look on her face when she'd presented it to him had been worth it.

He looked at her now. She was dressed more provocatively than he'd ever seen; low cut blouse exposing some enticing cleavage, hair pulled away from her face which was otherwise as wild as ever, and some make-up charms which made her eyes look large and seductive, and her cheeks stand out. She'd grown into an attractive woman and she looked especially beautiful tonight, and it made him irrationally angry.

So, he fell back on his strengths. Eyeing the book sitting on the table he sneered at her. "'Pride and Prejudice,' Granger? Really, could you be more of a cliche?"

"This is a great work of literature," she defended with a huff.

He snorted. "I bet you read it every year, don't you?" he taunted, "and you discover something new every time?" he mocked in a falsetto voice. He'd dated some muggle university students after that last terrible year at Hogwarts when he'd needed a break from witches, and they'd been disappointingly predictable. They'd all loved that book.

She bit her lip and glared at him. "Have you actually read it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I have."

"So you know that it's about surpassing expectations and overcoming preconceived notions for both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. And that they suffered greatly before they learned to accept that they were each too proud and too prejudiced to see the truth of each other?" she asked snidely, giving him a knowing look.

Touche, he acknowledged, sitting back in his seat

She started fiddling with the stem of that damn rose again. And he noticed that even though she was all dressed up and had clearly bathed recently, her fingers were ink-stained. He realized he'd never seen her without ink-stained hands.

He was about to signal for a waiter- it was about time they at least got some wine- when a male voice interrupted them.

"Excuse me, I think I'm meant to be meeting you."

Draco turned to see a perfectly ordinary looking bloke watching Granger expectantly.

"Ginny told me you would have a book and a rose and that's how I'd recognize you," the other wizard continued.

Draco's heart fell as he realized what was happening here. He hadn't been set up with Granger, they were both meant to meet other people. This was just a terrible and- rapidly becoming uncomfortable- coincidence. And then as if called a woman appeared behind the other man.

"Draco?" she questioned. Of course she knew his name. She was tall and thin, her straight hair cut in a rather harsh manner that reminded him of the way Pansy had worn hers at Hogwarts. In other words, she looked just like every pure blooded witch his age. And she was exactly what he had expected from a Theodore Nott set-up. He hated her immediately.

However, there was nothing to be done about it. He stood up and with a quick, "good to see you Granger," he took the other witch's arm and escorted her to an empty table across the room which was apparently the one which had actually been reserved for them.

She was dull, and either too stupid or too self-involved to notice that he paid her hardly any attention. He assumed it was some combination of the two. He knew that she was probably only here because Theo had obviously dropped his name to her and the Malfoy wealth was legendary. Vast enough that a certain set of women were willing to overlook the mark on his left forearm in a bid to gain access to it. He'd never found that overly bothersome before tonight.

What did capture his attention was Granger. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Sentimental Granger who'd brought a romance novel and a flower to signal her identity to her date. Passionate, irreverent, outspoken Granger who appeared to be bored out of her mind with her date. He absentmindedly chatted with his own date, relying on years of multitasking in business meetings to avoid completely ignoring her, even as he was enchanted by the witch across the room. He caught and held her gaze at every opportunity. He smirked and winked and watched her avidly as she daintily ate her meal. And she watched him too.

He rid himself of his date as soon as humanly possible and retreated a discreet distance away from the entrance to the restaurant to wait for her. She emerged a few minutes later accompanied by her date, but Draco was satisfied to see that she dodged his attempts to even give her a kiss on the cheek. Once she rid herself of him she headed off in the direction of her shop- she lived in a flat above it- and he was waiting for her to walk by him.

"Well that was a waste of a perfectly good evening," he drawled.

Her footsteps didn't falter and she just gazed at him, obviously unsurprised to see him. "I'm sorry your date didn't go well, but Mark was perfectly lovely," she said haughtily.

He snorted. "Who do you think you're fooling, Granger? I was in that room too, you were completely bored by him."

She let out a surprised little laugh and stopped walking, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're right. I don't know how to better explain to Ginny that if I wanted a mummy's boy with clumsy table manners and nothing better to talk about than quidditch, then I would be married to her brother. But I don't and I'm not."

"Quidditch!" he barked out a laugh, "he was talking to you about quidditch? Merlin, Granger, it's actually public knowledge that you don't care for quidditch."

She pulled a face. "Needless to say, we won't be seeing each other again. What was so bad about your date? She was very pretty."

"Was she?" He shrugged. "I've forgotten what she looked like already. Her name was Kathryn," he leaned over and whispered to her like it was a secret, "with a 'y.'"

"What's wrong with the name Kathryn?"

He shook his head, "nothing at all, it's perfectly lovely, but that's not the point. The point is that she said it like it made her special. She thought she was special when she's really just like all the others."

"Good Godric, Malfoy but you're a snob," she snickered.

He just tilted his head in acknowledgement, she wasn't wrong and he wasn't ashamed of having high standards. "She told me that she likes muggle fashion magazines, she said it like it was something naughty, like I'm not perfectly aware that they're all the rage with all the pure blooded princesses these days. You know, you should stock them in your shop, you would make a killing."

She gave him a odd look, they'd discussed this in the past, but she went with it. "My shop is for serious readers and seekers of knowledge. If they want fashion magazines and celebrity gossip they can march their little arses in to muggle London and find them on their own." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't they realize how hypocritical it is, wanting to emulate muggle fashion but refusing to associate with them?"

He stopped her with a hand on her arm and she turned to face him. He looked at her seriously "No, Granger, that's the point, they don't realize it at all."

She sighed again but nodded, acknowledging his point. They continued on their way in silence and when they reached her shop she hesitated in front of the door. He held her gaze as he spoke. "Invite me in."

She bit her lip as she considered him but eventually nodded. She took out her wand and released the wards and then in one swift motion he grabbed her, opened the door, and once they were inside spun her around and pressed her up against it. It shut with a loud bang but neither of them seemed to notice as he covered her mouth with his. She dropped her wand and her bag and her hands went to his shoulders while his went to her hips and their lips moved in frantic tandem.

After several heated minutes he began to suck on her neck while he ran one hand up her inner thigh, hiking her skirt up in the process. He stroked her through her knickers and then hooked two fingers underneath the soaked material and eased them into her body. She cried out at the sudden intrusion but hastily spread her legs to accommodate him.

"So wet," he murmured, "is this for me?"

"You know it is, you bastard," she spat, he knew she was trying to sound angry, but the breathless quality of her voice belied her irritation, "you eye fucked me across that restaurant for two hours. I'll never look at a piece of cheesecake the same way again." She roughly pulled at his hair in what he assumed was meant to be a bit of vengeance but actually just further inflamed his desire for her.

"Yes, you did look like you were imagining putting something else entirely in your mouth while you were eating that." He leered and pressed his erection against her demonstratively. "It took every ounce of self-control I possess to keep from marching over there and beating that idiot to a bloody pulp for witnessing that look on your face, it was only knowing that I was the one that put it there, and not him, that stopped me."

She snorted derisively as she unbuttoned her own blouse and grabbed the back of his head, guiding him to suck on her through the lace of her bra. It was one of the things he loved most about being with her; the way she took control of and owned her own pleasure, completely unashamed. It had surprised him the first time they'd done this, he'd believed her to be uptight, but that was just the facade she showed the world. He loved that he was the one who got to see her like this. And then he realized something and he recoiled violently from her, eyeing her sexy lingerie.

"Did you wear this for him? Were you going to bring him back here and let him into these pretty knickers if I hadn't been there tonight?" he hissed the accusation as he eyed the wanton woman in his arms, that was unacceptable.

She shook her head, but her eyes were closed in pleasure and he wasn't sure that she was even really listening to him, much less telling the truth. He went completely still and her eyes popped open in alarm.

"Draco, what are you doing?" she whined, attempting to squirm in his arms to gain some friction; but he was much bigger than her and he held her resolutely still, pinned between himself and the door.

"Go on a date with me," he demanded

She reared back in surprise, smacking her head on the heavy wood in the process, but she didn't even seem to notice. "What are you talking about?"

"It's very simple Granger, agree to go on a date with me. An actual date. In public. Not sneaking around to shag. Say yes and I'll make you feel so good," he began to pump his fingers at a tortuously slow pace to demonstrate his meaning, and then he carefully inserted a third.

She gasped, "that's blackmail!" She was trying to sound scandalized even as she was desperately attempting to move her hips to match the rhythm of his hand.

He chuckled darkly. "Sweetheart, you willingly climbed into bed with a snake. What did you expect?"

"We agreed, we agreed that it was just sex. Nobody would understand if they knew!"

They had agreed- a year ago when he'd come across her at a Ministry event unaccompanied by any of her little friends. They'd flirted and drank too much and ended up shagging frantically against the door to his flat. He'd chosen tonight's location to emulate that event very strategically.

Because he'd realized tonight that he didn't care what they'd agreed to, if he ever saw her out with another wizard again he was going to lose his mind. The thought of those ink-stained hands on anybody but him was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. It was a bloody annoying way to find out that he was in love with her. But there it was. He wanted her, all the time and in every way; he was used to getting what he wanted, and he wasn't afraid to fight dirty.

And the thing was that he suspected she felt the same way. Tonight had been his first date in longer than he could remember and that was, in large part, because he spent almost all of his free time with her. So rather than argue with her, he changed tack.

"What if, instead of being completely bored tonight, I found that I liked Kathryn," he said her name with malicious glee, ensuring she was reminded that he had been out with another woman, "what if I'd decided to take her home, get her wet and lick her clean? You know how I like to do that. She would have let me," he explained with utter confidence, "she was sending out all the right signals. Would that have been okay with you Hermione?" he brushed his thumb across her clit as he said her name, she jerked in his arms and whimpered, but her eyes were hard and angry, which was exactly what he wanted. "But I didn't want her, I want you.' He punctuated that declaration with a hard kiss. "I'm here with you. Just say yes and I'll make you come so hard you'll forget there was another wizard within three feet of you tonight."

She just stared at him defiantly and remained silent. She was maddening and Merlin he adored it. He bucked against her leg, making sure she could feel every inch of him- a reminder of what she could have if she'd just stop being so bloody stubborn- and dipped his head to nip at a particularly sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her mouth dropped open and she arched against his chest, and he knew that he had her.

"Draco," she whined, "please."

"Please what?" he picked up the pace that he was moving his fingers within her and curled them so that he was stroking her just the way she liked best.

"Oh God, oh Merlin, yes, yes, just please don't stop," she cried.

"That's it, was that so hard?" he crooned.

He inserted one strong thigh more firmly between her legs, lifted her slightly with his free arm, and then let her sink down so that she was fully impaled on his fingers. Her mouth popped open, an expression of pure bliss on her face. And then he began to move with real purpose.

She clung to him, writhing and moaning until with one more deliberate curl of his fingers he allowed the heel of his hand to hit her clit, and she screamed as she finally fell over the precipice. It was something to witness. He'd been holding her right at the edge for so long, she shook violently as she came, and as her orgasm abated she collapsed completely against him. He held her up as he gently eased her down from her high. When he finally removed his hand from her body he carefully reversed their position so that his back was to the door, and then he sunk to the floor with her on his lap.

After awhile her breathing slowed but she remained clinging to his shirt, her face buried against his chest. "Draco," she finally said, her voice small and shy.

"Did you mean it?" he asked simply.

She nodded.

"That's all I needed to know. Now, I'm going to rest for another minute and then I'm going to take you upstairs and finish ravishing you. And I'm not going to sneak out in the middle of the night like I'm your dirty little secret anymore."

She finally lifted her head, smirking as she looked pointedly at her disheveled clothing. "Well, maybe not a secret anymore, but definitely still dirty."