Roses are red

Violets are blue

I don't own Harry Potter

This is sad, but true

Written for Troping Thursday in the DFW Facebook group. Today's trope: Muggle AU!

Hermione Granger was not like other women. Draco Malfoy had known this since the first time he'd met her. They had been eleven, and he'd transferred from a private school in London to the public school she attended.

Their classmates had welcomed him warmly; Hermione had sneered at him when they'd locked eyes at recess, and then she'd disappeared down the slide.

He supposed that was the moment he fell in love with her.

Nearly thirteen years on, they both worked for the same law firm, having been hired straight out of University. His infatuation with the feisty brunette was still as strong as ever, but he suspected his feelings were unrequited.

"Good morning, Draco!" The blonde receptionist greeted him before he'd managed to get both feet over the threshold.

"Morning, Beth." He offered her a small smile and she blushed furiously.

Inwardly, he groaned. Why is it that the only woman I actually want is the only one who doesn't seem interested?

As if on cue, the object of his musing appeared from the hallway that led to their offices.

"Malfoy," she greeted him in a clipped tone. She glanced between him and Beth and her eyes tightened. "When you've finished flirting, can I see you in my office?"

God give him strength. Only Hermione could make the word flirting sound dirty.

"Sure, Granger," he drawled easily. He gave Beth a wink that caused the young woman to giggle behind her hand.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pivoted on the spot. Draco followed her slowly, admiring her from behind.

She had wild curls the colour of chocolate, a petite frame, and curves Draco had spent most of his teenage and adult life imagining in less than savoury positions. He forced himself to think of cleaning his bathroom to avoid embarrassment at work, and reluctantly moved his gaze from her derriere to the back of her head.

"What have you done to the Potter case?" She rounded on him as soon as the door to her office closed behind them.

He arched an eyebrow innocently.

"No idea what you're talking about," he bit down on his tongue to prevent his lips from spreading into his patented smirk.

"Don't play dumb with me, Malfoy." She narrowed her eyes.

"Me? Dumb?" He scoffed. "Please, Granger, I'm a lot of things, but dumb isn't one of them."

"I've known you for far too long, Malfoy," she grumbled. "Unfortunately, that time has given me a long list of the horrible traits you possess. And while they annoy me to no end, right now only one of your personal flaws is my concern. The Potter case, what did you do?"

He held his hands up in what he intended to be a placating gesture.

"I merely visited the Aunt – "

Hermione cut him off.

"For fuck's sake!"

He loved it when she swore. He couldn't help the smirk this time.

"Are you smirking at me?" She growled. "You insufferable prat!"

Draco felt something inside him snap and his controlled demeanour fell away.

"Fucking hell, Granger, I thought I was doing you a favour! How was I to know the bint was bat shit crazy?"

"If you had asked, you arrogant prick, I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU!" She was yelling now.

"Oh right," Draco scoffed, "I forgot – you know everything."

"Not everything! But most things!" She moved towards him, closing in on Draco's personal space.

He tried to find a part of him that cared, but all he could think about was the way her eyes flashed dangerously, and he wondered whether or not the pink spots on her cheeks would be warm to touch.

"What – what are you doing?" Hermione spluttered.

Draco's hand had risen, unbidden, from his side, and his knuckles were now grazing the side of her face; the spots were warm.

"Granger," he murmured, before his other hand found her waist and pulled her against him.

Speechless, Hermione stumbled forward into him. His chest was hard and he smelled like expensive cologne, hair gel, and something homely she couldn't quite place.

"What are you – ?" She looked up at him, her hands splayed on his chest with the intent to push him away.

"I do love it when you get angry." He growled. His voice sent shivers down her spine, and parts of her anatomy she'd never fully explored now seemed awake and keen to be noticed.

"I – "

Her heart raced and her brain turned to mush as his gaze dropped to her lips. The hand on her waist tightened, his fingertips digging almost painfully into her sensitive skin. His other hand slid down her cheek, and tangled in the curls at the back of her neck. He hummed low in his throat.

"For once in your life, just shut up." He said, as his face lowered towards her.

Her breath hitched and her vision swam as his lips met hers. They were warm, and held the remnants of his morning coffee. She froze, unable to connect what was happening with the Malfoy she'd known for over half of her life. She stood stiff as a board, her hands still on his chest.

As his tongue swiped over her bottom lip, she gasped and he took full advantage of the opening of her mouth. His tongue was a paradox; as sweet as sugar to taste, but demanding and controlling in its movements. It was all Hermione could do to clutch at the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her while simultaneously keeping herself upright.

He slowed his movements just as she began to reciprocate. She whined as he pulled back and he chuckled against her mouth.

He offered her a cheeky grin and she slapped a hand against his chest.

"Prat," she muttered, but he noted there was no real anger in her tone. His smirk widened, and he dipped his head to claim her lips again.

Her responding sigh of contentment was music to his ears.