Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money with this.

Title: Business Dinner
Author: kalina_blue
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 929
Summary: As far as Hermione is concerned this is strictly a business dinner. It is doubtful, however, whether her boss has read that memo.
Warnings: Post-DH, EWE
A/N: Written for the "I Want the Fairy Tale" Valentine's Challenge at dramionedrabble—Day 02 Notting Hill. I used the following quotes:
2. I'm sorry I am so late. Bollocksed up at work again, I fear. Millions down the drain.
3. No one has said "whoopsidaisies" for fifty years and even then it was only little girls with blonde ringlets.

Hermione was standing in front of the wizarding restaurant, tapping her foot impatiently. If he dared to stand her up, she'd strangle him. They might not have a date, this was a business meeting after all—one that he had invited her to—but they still had agreed to meet at a specific time. Two minutes and thirty-three seconds ago, to be exact. Being late was unprofessional.

Another eight minutes and twenty-six seconds later, she had just checked her watch again, Draco finally walked up to her.

"I'm sorry I am so late. Bollocksed up at work again, I fear. Millions down the drain," he said by way of greeting.

Hermione huffed indignantly. "How you became the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation I will never understand."

Draco smirked. Hermione had made a point to complain about his competency as department head at least twice a week. As senior attorney to the International Magical Office of Law she was his employee—a fact Draco made sure to remind her every time she complained.

"I either got the job because the Malfoy family has centuries of experience in international magical trade or because of my charm and dashing good looks. Take your pick. Personally, I think, it was a combination of both."

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked inside the restaurant without comment. Draco followed, still smirking.

During the salad they continued to bicker over the question whether it was only polite to send ahead an owl when one was arriving behind schedule or whether this was completely superfluous if one was mere ten minutes late and the act of tracking down an owl and writing a letter would prolong the arrival even further.

By the time they had finished the salad they agreed to disagree. Considering their rather turbulent history, it was a hitherto unprecedented peaceful end to a discussing.

While they waited for their main course, Hermione asked about Draco's mishap at work. "Millions down the drain," could after all mean a number of things in Malfoy speech. He might have insulted the wizarding ambassador of France again—a distant cousin of the Malfoys, who was at least as supercilious as Draco. The last time that had happened, the Ministry had only been able to prevent putting a permanent strain on the relationship between the two countries by throwing a rather costly benefit gala in the insulted ambassador's name.

Or Draco might have side-stepped a few pivotal laws in order to favour wizarding Britain on the international market. That usually would cost the Ministry a hefty fine.

Or Draco merely could have been referring to a business deal he had made in the Ministry's name that only garnered a couple of millions in profits instead of the several millions he had been aiming for. With Draco one never knew.

But Draco refused to talk about work after hours, asking about Hermione's writing instead in order to change the subject. Hermione was writing a children's book, something Draco had found out when she had worked on it during lunch. He continually made fun about the title, Whoopsiedaisy's Mis-Adventures.

Hermione thought it was a rather appropriate title for a story about a clumsy, little girl. Draco was of the opinion that no one had said "whoopsidaisies" for fifty years and even then it had only been little girls with blonde ringlets. But Hermione appreciated the fact that even though Draco was ridiculing the title, he at least wasn't laughing at the idea of her writing books for children—which Harry and Ron had done.

Throughout the entire meal they were bantering and laughing, at each other and with each other, and even though both of them would rather have pledged their undying love to one of Dolores Umbridge's ugly kittens than admit it, they were having a good time together.

By the time they had finished the pudding and Draco had paid the cheque, both of them were reluctant for the evening to end, choosing to walk along Diagon Alley instead.

"I had fun tonight," Hermione said while absentmindedly staring at a window display at Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"Don't sound so surprised," Draco mocked.

"Aren't you?" Hermione asked. "Surprised, I mean."

"I'd say I'm feeling more resigned than surprised," Draco said dryly. "Apparently I managed to fall for the only girl who isn't taken by my charm and money and who disagrees with everything I say on principle."

Before Hermione had the chance to ask Draco who he was talking about, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Hermione was so shocked by the unsuspected turn of their business dinner, she forgot to push him away and accidentally kissed him back. At least that was the version of events she would tell Ginny the following day.

"How about we finish the evening with a few drinks?" Draco asked when he finally pulled away.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly, torn between accepting his invitation or not. After all, this hadn't been a date—it was a business meeting.

Okay, maybe she wasn't kissing her other co-workers like that. She certainly hadn't been in the habit of sticking her tongue down the throat of any of her previous bosses. But it still had been a business meeting. She vaguely recalled having talked about business—albeit briefly between the salad and the main course—and Draco was her boss. This was the very definition of a business meeting.

And if she were to let him take her out for drinks now, it was only to strengthen their working-relationship.