Important: AU! Voldemort doesn't rise again. No horcruxes.

Cross-generation fic/major age difference.

Suggestive!

Written for The Houses Competition, Year 6, Round 3

House: Hufflepuff

Class: CoMC

Drabble/Standard: Standard

Prompt: [action] Teaching a Muggle game to a wizard

Word Count: 2979

After graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with the highest scores – and NEWTs – the Wizarding World had seen in fifty years, Hermione Granger began working as an Apprentice Curse-Breaker for Gringotts Bank under the tutelage of Antonin Dolohov – a Russian wizard, considered to be the best in the field of Ancient Runes.

Antonin Dolohov was a dark haired wizard who preferred to keep to himself. He hadn't been interested in teaching the fine art of Curse-Breaking to Hermione, but she managed to cajole him into accepting. The woman was too stubborn for her own good. She'd even managed to wrangle Lucius Malfoy into referring her to Antonin!

Despite the war having ended with Voldemort twenty years ago, Antonin Dolohov was still considered undesirable by the Curse-Breakers. Hermione looked past his Dark Mark and befriended him.

Antonin would have corrected her by saying that she 'forced her company on him, despite his vehement protests'.

She took him on lunch dates and coffee breaks that he assumed would be in a professional capacity, but weren't.

Antonin loved playing the devil's advocate, making Hermione the perfect partner to debate with. The two spent most of their breaks arguing over the pros and cons of the spells they'd used on the cursed items brought in by the rest of their team.

Thus began an unlikely friendship between the former Dark wizard and the recent graduate. Antonin learned that Hermione's innocence was a farce; she could've been sorted into Slytherin! She was an ambitious cutthroat – especially when it came to her career.

Hermione learned that behind Antonin's harsh exterior lay a soft hearted, lonely man who simply wanted to be appreciated for his hard work.

As time passed, Hermione subtly took the reclusive Antonin out on dates – which the poor man didn't even realise until it was too late.

When she stretched up onto her toes to caress his lips with hers after one of their meetings, Antonin was bludgeoned with the realisation that he was in love with Hermione Granger. Merlin, how could he have not realised it earlier! It was so obvious, now that he thought about it: all those late night Patronuses, those coffee breaks after a long day of research, that caressing of fingers against the other's, that glancing at her after he said something sarcastic to see if she laughed.

Everything he'd done in the past couple of years that seemed to be out of character for him pointed to one plausible explanation: he was in love with the Gryffindor witch.

The next words that came out of his mouth changed the course of his life for the better.

"Marry me, lyubimaya moya."

"Thought you'd never ask, " Hermione teased as she pulled him down into a fierce kiss that sent tingles running up Antonin's spine.

The months passed as Antonin and Hermione busied themselves in the wedding preparations. After they'd agreed on a small private affair with their close friends and family in attendance, the couple worked together to make their wedding day their most memorable day.

January 14th, 2005

One fine afternoon, Draco Malfoy – former Head Boy and Hermione's close friend – Flooed to Hermione's house for advice pertaining to Harry Potter.

He'd finally managed to buck up and ask Harry out — a result of almost a decade of pathetically pining after him. But where was he supposed to take him?

Harry was a professional Quidditch player — he'd been to several countries on tour with his team.

That's where Draco thought Hermione would be able to help. As Harry's best friend, she was the best candidate to advise Draco what to do on their date.

But as Draco stepped out of the Floo, dusted himself off and straightened his Auror robes to stop them from wrinkling, he belatedly realised he'd walked in on a very heated argument between the affianced couple — a couple whose tempers were the stuff of legends.

"We are NOT inviting that mudak to our wedding, kotyatina!" Antonin snarled, his teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, as he loomed over Hermione.

"Yes, we are! And don't call him a shithead! I know you called him that — don't you dare lie!" Hermione leaned her head back to glare up at her fiancé, her hands placed on her hips, her hair prickling with her incensed magic.

Draco knew better than to interrupt her — but Antonin wasn't scared of her.

Draco winced as Antonin spat, "Witch, I can call him whatever I want and you can't stop me."

Hermione shrieked, outraged, and almost attacked him.

But Antonin grabbed her by her waist, hoisted her up the length of his body and purred, "My little dorogaya, you look delicious when you're pissed off."

Draco's eyes almost popped out of his head when Hermione buried her face in the crook of Antonin's neck and giggled.

"You're such an arse, Toni!" She cried, as she pulled back and lightly smacked her wizard's shoulder.

"But I'm your arse, aren't I?" Antonin had no qualms about running his hands up and down Hermione's back despite her still being annoyed at him.

Before Draco could announce his presence in the room, Hermione jumped out of Antonin's arms and landed gracelessly onto her feet.

Antonin rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

She beamed up at him, her smile like a spring flower blossoming right in front of his very eyes. Antonin saw how it came from deep within her to shine through her eyes and spread into every part of her.

"We're not done talking about that mudak yet, my love." Antonin ruined her mood again.

"What's there to talk about?! You know he's my friend — yes, he's my ex, I know. But he's also my friend! And besides, Ron's happily married to Luna! You know that!" Hermione scowled up at Antonin again, as she crossed her arms over her chest expectantly.

"I don't give a damn who the little shit's married to, dorogaya. He's not coming to the wedding after how he dumped you — Merlin's beard, Mine, he broke up with you during your BIRTHDAY party! Who the hell does that?!"

Antonin refused to budge from his argument. Draco silently agreed with Antonin – not that he would dare say it out loud for fear of getting hexed by an irate Granger.

"Well then, how about we play a quick game of rock, paper, scissors? I know it's a Muggle game, but it's really easy, Toni! And it will let us decide whether we will allow Ron to come to our wedding or not. Here, let me explain." Hermione stepped closer to Antonin and took his hands in hers.

Abruptly, Draco glanced at Antonin, bewildered.

Why wasn't the man saying anything? Draco thought, confused.

"So, this –" Hermione fisted his hand to show him–"is going to be your make-believe 'rock'."

Antonin nodded and murmured, "Okay."

"This is going to your 'paper'." Hermione pulled on his fingers to open his fist.

"Mhmm." Antonin softly hummed in acceptance as he gazed at his witch adoringly. His fingers itched to push away her riotous strands behind her ear, but he stopped himself.

"And this," she tugged on the first two fingers of his hand, "is your 'scissors'! All you have to do is shake your fist three times and then choose one of these. You could choose any of these - it's up to you."

The look Antonin gave Hermione made Draco shift uncomfortably where he stood in the doorway. It seemed like he was intruding on an intimate moment between the affianced couple.

"Now for the rules: scissors beats paper, paper beats rock, and rock beats scissors. Simple! Got it?" Hermione questioned him, her eyes wide with hope.

"Why does paper beat rock? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Antonin frowned, as he stared at his hand still in Hermione's.

"What?"

"Think about it - if I throw a rock at you, would you be able to defend yourself with a flimsy piece of paper? No, you wouldn't! So, why does paper beat rock?" Antonin's love for debate showed up again.

Hermione smirked at his question and retorted, "Do you really think I don't have an answer to that, Toni?"

"Well, what's the answer, genius?" Antonin demanded, as he subtly pulled her closer to him with his other hand.

Hermione's laughter reminded Antonin of the bells that chimed from the Voznesenskaya Church in Yekaterinburg - his hometown.

"Actually, the game and the image of paper covering a rock dates back to ancient Chinese culture. When a petition was made to the Emperor of China, the petition was signified by a rock. Upon making a decision, the Emperor would have his servants place a sheaf of paper either over or under the rock. If the sheaf was placed under the rock, it would signify acceptance of the petition. If the sheaf was placed on top of the rock, it signified denial of the petition. So, over time, the symbolic image of paper covering a rock became synonymous with defeat." Hermione ended her explanation with a triumphant grin.

Antonin muttered, "Of course you would know that. Why do I even bother?"

Hermione placed both her hands on his chest and asked him, hopefully, "Well? Shall we play?"

"Very well, zhizn' moya. As you wish."

Hermione stepped back and muttered, "I'm going to win this."

Antonin snorted and drawled, "Like hell you will."

Draco watched with amusement as Hermione and Antonin, two of the most competitive people he knew personally, started an intense round of the Muggle game.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Hermione's scissors lost spectacularly to Antonin's rock.

"Does this mean I win?" Antonin tried to sound innocent but failed.

"One more round!" Hermione cried, surprised at the result of the game.

"Alright, my love."

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

"WHAT? AGAIN? No! I want a rematch!" Hermione wailed, furious at Antonin's success.

"Milaya – are you sure? I've won twice already. Do you really want to lose thrice in a row? Would you be able to handle that?" Antonin's wicked smirk made Hermione bristle with rage.

"YES! I'm going to win this!" Hermione snapped.

"Yes, you could win this next round, but overall, I would win anyway," Antonin pointed out, unhelpfully.

"Best of five matches, then!" Hermione declared, adamant on winning the next three matches.

"Alright, little witch."

To her absolute mortification, Hermione lost each and every one of the next three matches.

"How — are you cheating? You must be cheating somehow!" Hermione wailed, her eyes narrowed in on Antonin's fist.

"Like you said, duckie – it's a Muggle game."

"But – but how? How do you keep winning?!" Hermione was flabbergasted.

"Stroke of pure luck, I bet." Antonin shrugged his shoulders and ran his free hand through his ebony black locks.

"Argh! Fine! You win. But this doesn't mean I'm happy with you," Hermione mumbled dejectedly, her shoulders slumped, her eyes cast down in a mournful gaze, and her mouth set in a semi-pout.

Antonin angled his head to the side and closed the distance between them in one swift move. His mouth met hers in a bruising kiss, not innocently like a tease, but hot, scorching, frenzied and all consuming.

Draco cleared his throat loudly before the amorous couple lost control of their emotions. Again.

He was not in the mood to watch them paw at each other and make disgusting slurping sounds — he'd seen enough of that in their relationship's earlier days. Merlin, the two of them were worse than a pair of horny teenagers dosed with Amortentia!

Sometimes, Draco wondered how exactly did Hermione Granger end up with Antonin Dolohov anyway? He would never have thought the witch would go for an older man like Dolohov.

"What are you still doing here, you imbecile? Can't you see we're busy?" Antonin growled suddenly, an annoyed scowl on his face.

"Uh, I need to talk to Granger." Draco jumped at the sudden attention, and scratched the back of his neck, nervously.

"Oh, Draco! I didn't see you there!" Hermione gasped with her hand on her chest.

"You were too busy trying to tongue wrestle with your man, Granger," Draco pointed out, amused.

"We didn't actually get to the tongue part, did we?" Hermione questioned Antonin, curiously.

"Witch, if I had my tongue down your throat, you would know for sure." Antonin's lips turned up in a vulgar smirk that made Hermione shiver with delight.

"Okay, people. Break it up, will you? I'm in a hurry. Granger, could you help me a bit? It's about Mr Spectacled Dork…"

"Just call him Harry, Draco! You've known him for more than a decade!" Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco.

"No way! It's hilarious seeing him pissed off," Draco drawled, as he leaned against the door.

"You Slytherins…" Hermione grumbled.

She walked up to Draco.

"Are you going to punch me?" Draco's shoulders stiffened at her sudden closeness.

"No, you idiot! Step aside — I need to use the loo."

"Oh, okay." Draco quickly moved away from her, the two men watched her exit the room.

Once she was out of sight and hearing, Draco turned to Antonin.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Draco questioned, his brows furrowed with bewilderment.

"Tell her what?" Antonin refused to look at the young blonde man.

"That you know how to play rock, paper, scissors?" Draco pointedly stared at Antonin.

Antonin remained silent for a few moments. Then, he replied, "It's none of your business, boy."

Draco stated, "Then you won't mind me telling her the truth."

Antonin scowled at the unsubtle threat, and growled, "Zacroy rot, zhopa! It's really none of your business!"

"Tell me, or else I'll tell her," Draco warned him, petulantly.

"Fine! I didn't stop her from teaching me how to play a Muggle game I already knew how to play because... I love her. She's my witch and I think it's bloody adorable the way she teaches me to do things. I like listening to her talk, damn it! Happy, mudak?! Now don't you go and ruin my —"

"You knew how to play the game?" Hermione stood behind Draco, her eyes wide with amazement.

At her sudden appearance, Draco jumped high in the air, like she'd hexed him.

"Dorogaya…" Antonin started to say but was interrupted.

"You knew how to play the game and you didn't tell me because you love me?" Hermione's tone was soft and questioning.

"Yes, Severus taught the game to me back at Hogwarts," Antonin admitted, reluctantly.

"Professor Snape taught you the game?" Hermione croaked, disbelief etched on her face.

"Granger, he taught Father the game, too!" Draco couldn't help but lord over a fact Hermione didn't know.

"Mr Malfoy knows how to play rock, paper, scissors?!" Hermione paled at the news.

"He's really good at it, too." Draco smirked.

"Merlin.. I have no idea how to react to that." Hermione ran her fingers through her hair and turned back to Antonin.

"You're not mad at me, are you, milaya?" Antonin worried his lip, nervous about her reaction.

"Toni…" Hermione murmured as she stepped closer to her beloved.

"Yes?" Antonin still looked nervous.

"I love you, you dolt! Why would I be mad at you? I think you're amazing! Most people try to shut me up when I start lecturing them about something — but you didn't." Hermione's eyes shone with unshed tears.

"You are my life, my little one. I vow to keep you smiling for the rest of our lives – and you are always so happy when you're teaching me something new."

Antonin's hands moved up to her face, gently wiping her glistening tears off of her cheeks.

Uncomfortable with their intimate moment, Draco stared up at the ceiling, and thought, 'Merlin, this man is smooth. I'll need some lessons from him to woo Potter.'

"My witch is a bit busy now, boy. Leave. She'll see you soon." Antonin's tone left no room for argument.

Draco quickly nodded. "Yeah, that's — that's fine by me. Owl me later."

He rushed back to the Floo.

Tension rose in the air as Antonin kissed her then and she felt the world fall away. It was slow, soft, yet passionate; comforting in ways that words would never be. Antonin's hands cupped her face delicately, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as their breaths mingled. She ran her hands down his spine, fisted the back of his shirt and pulled him closer until there wasn't any space left between them and she could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest.

January 17th, 2005

"How did you win all the games against Hermione, by the way?" Draco asked Antonin, as he glanced around to make sure Hermione wasn't in sight. The two men were in the Gringotts' Research Laboratory.

"I read a Muggle book a few months ago — it's called The Official Rock Paper Scissors Strategy Guide." Antonin shrugged carelessly.

"You defeated Granger with a book? Merlin, you two are just made for each other, aren't you?" Draco shook his head, equally amused and amazed at Antonin's strategy.

"Well, Lucius gave it to me after he'd finished it," Antonin muttered, his eyes fixed on the personal invitation card he was writing to Ron Weasley.

"So that's how he's been winning against Mother!" Draco gasped, in awe of his father's Slytherin behaviour.

"Owl this letter on your way out, boy," Antonin ordered Draco as he handed him the letter.

"You're inviting Weaselbee to your wedding?" Draco's surprised tone annoyed Antonin.

"Of course I'm inviting the oaf. I have to show him what he's missing out on — and it'll make my missus happy."

Draco pursed his lips to hide his grin. Whatever Antonin said, he could always be counted on to make his Hermione smile.

Translations:

Lyubimaya moya — My love

Mudak — Asshole

Kotyatina — Kitten

Dorogaya — Darling

Zhizn' moya — My life

Milaya — Sweetheart

Zacroy rot, zhopa — Shut your mouth, ass.