Ok…so I know I'm not even close to being done with either one of the seemingly abandoned stories that I already have, but I heard this song for the first time at work and I just HAD to put my sudden inspiration for a one-shot down on paper. (Or on the computer…whatever. You know what I mean.) I don't really intend for this to be a songfic, because that's not really my thing. It's simply a short little thing inspired by Ne-Yo's song. And I know this song has been done, but I couldn't help it. This song was MADE for Hermione and Draco!
Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!
When You're Mad
He didn't even know what she was angry about this time. All he knew was that his temperature was spiking, his heartbeat was steadily increasing, the blood from his head was starting to flow south and he could practically feel his pupils dilating. She was yelling at this point, sure that even through her powerful silencing spell that everyone in the office could still hear her shrilly voice screaming that he had to be "THE BIGGEST FUCKING ARSEHOLE" that she had ever had the misfortune to come across. He narrowly missed the paperweight that came flying at his head, but continued to stare.
Merlin's left testicle, she was gorgeous. It suddenly made sense why he had teased her all those years at Hogwarts. It was worth detention if he could see her like this every time. He droned out her voice and all he could think about was grabbing her and spreading her out on her desk before burying his face between her legs. He wondered if she shaved. Maybe she was completely bare? He suppressed a shudder at the erotic image.
"Are you even fucking listening to me?" she suddenly screeched, interrupting his delicious fantasy.
"Granger, what color knickers are you wearing?" In an instant, her face turned to angry and frustrated to absolutely livid and he had to use every ounce of self-control he had (which wasn't much considering he was using a very large portion of it trying to keep himself from jumping her) to suppress the goofy grin threatening to spread across his face.
This was his favorite part; call him sick, call him twisted, call him whatever you please, but he absolutely loved her "angry face." The way her blood suddenly rushes to her cheeks, staining them crimson, the way her already unmanageable hair seems to grow in size, the ends seeming to lift with the electricity coursing through her body in that moment, and her nose, that cute little button nose, forms the most adorable little wrinkle at the top and then he's gone. He balled up his hands into fists to keep himself from ripping off her clothes as she stomped over, inches from his face. He could tell without looking that her hand was twitching, ready to come up and connect with his cheek.
"Go ahead, Granger," he rasped out, his voice dangerously low. Though from the fact that he was incredibly horny at the moment or because he was trying to warn her of the consequences of such an action, he wasn't sure. "Just try to strike me." She seemed to seriously consider it. She stared hard into his face for a while and finally made eye contact. She must have seen something there because her own widened a bit with maybe just a hint of fear and she slowly began to back away. He barely suppressed a growl, not wanting her to create any unnecessary space between then and lightly grabbed the hem of her short, periwinkle suit jacket. He was suddenly reminded of Yule Ball and he got impossibly harder. She was so beautiful back then, but even more so now.
"Malfoy, what are you doing?" she asked, the anger ebbing out of her voice and slowly replaced by confusion and trepidation. He didn't answer her, just continued to try and pull her closer to his overheated body. "Let go of me."
And then she touched him. She placed her small, cool hands on his chest, presumably to push away from him, but he only registered that she was finally touching him and all the brittle walls he had erected finally broke and he yanked her flush against his body, covering her mouth with his before she could squeak out even the smallest of protests. She fit perfectly against him; it was like she was made for him. She was soft where he was hard. Her cool hands began to inch up to wrap around the back of his heated neck, sending shivers down his spine. She was kissing him back, soft, sweet lips moving against his. It was one of his wildest fantasies come to life. After what felt like an age, they pulled away from each other, gasping for air. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, relishing the moment and thanking whatever fates had allowed her to return his affections even for a minute.
"What are we doing?" she whispered. "I thought you hated me." He smiled and kissed her head sweetly.
"I haven't hated you in a long time, Granger," he replied just as softly, chuckling a bit. She pulled away to look into his face again, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"But you're always so…cruel to me." His soft smile broke into an amused, lopsided grin.
"Sorry, love, but you're just so damn sexy when you're mad."
She was talking again. Just talking this time. No yelling involved. Not yet, anyway. All in due time. After all, he couldn't go even one day without seeing her impassioned and fiery and…yes, angry, but that was just semantics. He fiddled with his empty wine glass, trying to decide whether it would be rude to call the waiter over for a refill while she was in the middle of discussing...wait. What was she discussing again? He looked over at her and her lips continued to move. She made a motion with her hands like she was petting something. Oh, how that thought could lead to a plethora of wonderfully naughty fantasies. Why, just the night before, he had had a dream about this exact moment, their first real date, if you want the specifics, and how it started pleasantly enough in the restaurant and ended at his flat where she suddenly changed her clothes into a corset and thong set with black kitty ears and a tail. She had crawled on all fours and purred, rubbing up against his leg and then…and then…
He shook his head, trying to dislodge that sexy image from his mind as he suddenly remembered that he was in a very public restaurant on a very real and very boring date with his sex kitten—er—Hermione Granger. Pay attention, man! Ah yes now she was talking again…Crookshanks? Ah. Now he remembered. He had asked her about her rather ugly feline. Apparently he had passed away and Granger had felt the need to give him an update of the cat's life from the last time he had seen it to the time of his death…and beyond, since the woman believed that Crookshank's ghost now haunted her flat. Crazy bird.
Shit. She's looking at him expectantly. She must have just asked him a question. Fuck. What to do?
"Hmm? I'm sorry, Granger, I seem to have been momentarily stunned by your beauty. Could you repeat that?" Good save, jackass. If you really want to get into her pants and have her crawling around at your feet, you must pay more attention to what she's saying and not just to her incredible rack.
To be fair, though, it was a very, very, lovely set of breasts.
Their food finally arrived and they spent the rest of the meal in a sort of uncomfortable silence, the only sound between them being their cutlery occasionally hitting the porcelain plates. He heard her sigh several times and he inwardly grimaced. This night was not going as well as he had hoped at all. They passed on dessert and he stood to help her out of her chair.
"Would you like to get some coffee?" he asked awkwardly. "Or maybe a drink? I know a great little pub just across the street." She smiled shyly and nodded.
"A drink sounds great." He released a sigh of relief as she stepped ahead of him towards the restaurant's exit. Maybe a drink or two would loosen them both up enough to be comfortable around each other.
A drink or two—or maybe it was seven. Eight?—later, they stumbled through the door of her flat, still arguing after the barkeep had kicked them out for their ruckus.
"I am not a prude, Draco Malfoy!" she slurred drunkenly. "And I have so had sex outside of a bed."
"Granger, Granger, Granger. You don't have to lie to me, you know. I'll still sleep with you as long as you're a good lay." In his drunkenness, he forgot to censor himself and didn't realize the weight of his words until they had already spilled out of his mouth like word vomit. And tonight, of all nights, he wanted to try not to make her angry for once, despite how much it seemed to turn him on.
"Why you…you…PIG!" she exploded. And there it was…the face. Oh, how he could live everyday looking at that face. It would probably be hazardous to his health and cause him to live a short life, ended by this woman's hand, but Sweet Circe, she was absolutely stunning. She was also screaming at him. "God, I don't even know why I agreed to go out with you tonight, Malfoy! You're still the same prejudiced, misogynistic, sad excuse for a man! Get out!"
"I guess this means the date is over?" he said stupidly, blinking his eyes as if he wasn't sure that things were actually happening…that she was actually ending their date before he got a good night kiss at the very least.
"It was over before it ever started, Malfoy," she replied back. It didn't make much sense, but, hell, she was probably drunker than he was. "Just get. The. Fuck. Out." She began to push him and, as it usually did, her touch sent him over the edge. He grabbed her hands.
"Don't, Granger. I warned you about touching me." She blinked up at him, suddenly confused as to why he didn't move.
"That was about me slapping you, Malfoy. Not pushing you out the door after you've been the rudest first date I've ever had the misfortune of dismissing."
"The same rule applies. Don't touch me, Granger." Her eyes burned like the fire of Hades and he was surprised that he hadn't burned at that one glance.
"Why, Malfoy? Afraid you'll catch my Mudblood germs? Oops, I forgot to wash my hands. You're bound to catch them now. I'm so sorry." Her words held more and more venom as she spat out each word and he gritted his teeth harder and harder as he grew increasingly more aroused. He stood silently, staring at her, but not seeming to actually see her and it seemed to make her angrier.
"God, Malfoy! You are still the same! I can't believe I actually thought you changed. You know what? I'm serious." She began to push him towards the door, forcing him with all her might to move in that direction. "Get. Out. Of. My. House!" With each word, she pushed him harder and harder until he was finally pushed up against the door. He could feel the want buzzing about his body, hear it in his ears. He was surprised that she couldn't hear it, much less feel it.
"No, Granger. I don't think I will. And what's more, you're still fucking touching me." He said this through his gritted teeth, giving her one last chance to get the bloody clue.
"Because I'm trying to get you out of here, since it seems you don't even want to stay. Or am I too sullied to even push you away?" To accentuate her point, she pressed her hands against him harder, her small hands inching their way towards his neck.
"No, Granger," he growled. "You needed to stop touching me before I did something stupid like this." And with that, he covered her mouth with his. Tongues battled for dominance and she gave every bit as good as she got. Her whole body was pressed up against him, now, and he felt like everywhere their forms met, his skin tingled as if a million pins were pricking at it. He felt more intoxicated by her kiss than any amount of alcohol could have done tonight. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingertips brushing against the skin near the waistband of her skirt. Her skin was cool to the touch and so very soft; so opposite to his own which felt overheated and his skin taut over his tense muscles.
Her tiny hands delved into his hair and he groaned as she massaged his scalp, glad that he had foregone any hair products, secretly hoping that this moment would happen. He released her mouth with a small pop and trailed his kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. He rubbed his teeth along a particularly sensitive spot near her pulse and she purred like a kitten. The sound conjured up a previously forgotten image…Hermione…cat ears…purring…rubbing. He attacked her mouth again with a growl and a sudden, uncontrollable need for her. He needed to be connected with her in that final, most fundamental way. She began backing away, but he followed her every move. It wasn't until they fell onto her soft bed that he realized that she wasn't trying to get away from him, she was leading him into her bedroom. She wanted him, too.
He growled again at that realization, not caring at the moment how animalistic he sounded. He moved his hands over her body, stopping at her incredible tits, squeezing and massaging them through the thin fabric of her blouse. He adjusted their bodies to a more comfortable position and crawled up her body, kissing his way up her legs, stopping at the hem of her skirt. He looked up at her wolfishly before his head disappeared under the frothy fabric. He buried his nose into her, nudging her already sensitive clit. He groaned against her as he inhaled her exotic scent, the vibrations causing her to moan above him. He used his hands to raise her bum off the bed and dragged her damp knickers down and off with just his teeth. She giggled a bit as he shook them a bit before tossing them aside, the sound causing a lopsided grin to spread across his face.
Within a blink of an eye, his head was back under her skirt and his tongue delving between her folds, slick with want. She moaned again as he explored her with his mouth, tasting every drop of juice that coated her smooth, cleanly shaven (or perhaps she waxed?) sex. He groaned again before attaching his mouth to the little bundle of nerves sitting atop, waiting for his attentions. Her back arched up and off the bed, the sudden movement nearly bucking him off her body. Without warning, he pushed a finger into her sopping wet hole and began to move it in and out in time to the movements of his tongue. She was panting now, one hand gripping the sheets for dear life and the other thrust into his hair, pulling slightly at the blonde strands.
On her own accord, she lifted a leg and wrapped it around his shoulders, the thrust of her hips keeping the rhythm with his hand. He took that as a sign to add another finger and she groaned as his two fingers stretched her, becoming coated in her juices as she became even wetter with each thrust. She began chanting his name, asking for more, for harder, for him to just make her fucking come already. His thrusts became faster, the efforts his mouth and tongue were making doubling. He sucked harder on her clit as did her grip on his hair.
"Draco…Draco. I'm…I'm…" She screamed as she came into his mouth, his tongue catching every drop he might have missed. As her body relaxed again, she surprised him by pulling him up and over her body, capturing his lips with hers and using her tongue to roam his mouth and taste herself. He groaned at the erotic nature of what she was doing. They quickly divested themselves of all their clothing and shared a delighted moan as skin met skin. His mouth roamed all over her delectable body, kissing and tasting every part of her as if he was a starved man and she was the first meal he had had in months. Finally, he positioned his hard, throbbing length at her weeping entrance, looking into her eyes for any sign of hesitation. He may have been drunk and aching for this exact moment for ages, but he really wasn't a pig. She gave him her answer by wrapping her limbs around his body and thrusting up to meet him.
Sweet heaven. She felt glorious. He groaned as he slowly pulled out, allowing himself to feel her walls squeezing him. She must have decided that he wasn't going fast enough for her, so she thrust up again, sheathing him once more in her wet heat. Again, his walls broke down and he began thrusting in and out of her in earnest, causing the entire bed to rock and shake. He leaned down to kiss her lips has he continued his movements, the pleasure of finally being inside her almost too much for him. He tried to slow down as he could feel his orgasm building up too fast. She groaned in protest before suddenly, he was flipped around and was on his back, looking up at her smirking face. He returned her smirk briefly before letting out a deep moan as she began to ride him.
She purred as she slid up and down his cock. He had labeled her correctly before; this woman really was a sex kitten. He closed his eyes and smiled, allowing the sensations to flow over his body. He listened as her breathing became shallower, coming in small pants. She must be close. He held her hips and began meeting her thrusts. She moaned with each one, getting louder and louder as she became closer and closer to orgasm. As soon as he felt the first flutter of her vaginal walls, he quickly sat up, pushing impossibly deeper into her. She screamed his name as she came, squeezing him almost painfully. He flipped them both over again, throwing her legs over his shoulders as he drilled into her again and again, causing her to come again, bringing him with her.
He collapsed as soon as he was spent, taking care to fall next to her instead of on top. Her breathing was still labored and her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat. But she had such a pleased smile on her face that he couldn't help but feel smug and returned the smile. He used his wand to quickly clean themselves up and cuddle in next to her. She turned to face him, still wearing that same smile. He gave her a sweet, light kiss that she, of course, returned. She pulled away briefly to look him straight in the eyes.
"I'm still angry with you, you know," she whispered. He grinned.
"I know. But you're so sexy when you're mad." She smiled at that and closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest and promptly falling asleep.
"Oh, I'm, the immature one?" she spat. He probably shouldn't have said that, but he just couldn't really think straight when she was like this. There must be something seriously, psychologically wrong with him if he couldn't manage to control his libido when she was yelling at him like this.
What were they even arguing about again? Oh, right…the fact that she was finally considering moving in with him, but wouldn't if he continued to keep house elves. Silly bint. He rolled his eyes.
"Yes. You are immature," he said simply. She seemed to glow with rage and he tried with all his might to contain his giddiness. Pathetic.
"I work for my money at an actual job that I interviewed for and earned to pay my bills, while you, yes, have a job, but don't actually need to work and goof off all day. Instead, you spend most of your shift annoying me and trying your best to infuriate me, for some unknown reason, even though we've been dating for over six months now. But I'm immature." He pressed his lips tightly together, knowing that although he wanted to retort, she was no where near the end of her rant.
"I own my own flat that I searched for myself, bought myself with my own money, and clean by myself, while you simply lounge around in your Manor that has been in your family for centuries, not cleaning up after yourself, making your house elves pick up after you. But I'm immature." She stomped over so that she was in his face again.
"I turn down dates left and right by very nice men because I continue to 'date' you, a man that can't go one day without picking a fight with me, even while you continue to flirt with whatever bitch in a skirt flutters her eyelashes at you. But I'm immature." At this, he could stay quite no more and grabbed her, a bit roughly, admittedly, by the shoulders.
"Yes, Granger," he growled out. "You are immature. You're immature because you take your job so seriously even though you know that you are miles above it. You should have opened your own law firm ages ago instead of working with the Ministry." She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off.
"You're immature because instead of admitting that you don't want to move in with me, you make up excuses as to why you can't. You don't really have a problem with house elves. I know this because you've been in my home, eaten food that they've made for you and politely thanked them when they bring you your clothes laundered and folded after you've fallen asleep after we've had hot, angry sex." She blushed and tried to interject once again, but he simply spoke over her, backing her up against the wall, growing angrier with every step.
"And you're immature because you can't admit that you've fallen in love with me as I've finally admitted to you months ago, you turn down dates because the only one you want is me, but you won't tell me that talking to other women bothers you. That's why you're immature." He finally finished, breathing heavily, his body pressing hers against the wall. As aroused as he was, he couldn't do this anymore. Her words had cut to the quick and it might have been time to take a step back and consider their relationship. It really wasn't healthy to build a relationship on angry looks and even angrier sex. He was beginning to love the sweeter moments, too, and he had to admit that he may have been immature as well.
"But I am, too," he said quietly, finally stepping away from her body. "I'm immature because I do try my best to annoy and infuriate you. When we argue, I just feel like I have to kiss you. I don't know why it's like that. But I realize now that it's not healthy…this is not healthy. Fighting all the time, me goading you into an argument almost every night."
"Well, why do you do it?" she finally asked, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. "I would like to tell you, Draco, that I love you, too, but you make me so angry all the time that I'm just not sure. I really want to be able to tell you that and say that I'm ready to move in with you, but I can't if you continue to act the way that you do. Maybe if we can figure out why, we can try to fix this. Fix us. So why do you go out of your way to make me angry?" He shook his head and walked to the door. Hand on the doorknob, ready to walk out, he finally turned to her to give one last parting word.
"You're so damn sexy when you're mad." And then he was gone.
Six weeks later…
The sun streamed in through his windows he woke up, blinking blearily and reaching for the warm body that he belatedly realized wasn't there. He had been doing that a lot since he had left her flat that night. And every morning, he reached over, hoping to find that his dream was reality and she was still there.
Reality bites.
He had not contacted her for the rest of that weekend, giving her space and time and deciding that he would try to talk to her again, calmly, come Monday at work. He wanted to try again, this time promising that he would try his best not to pick fights no matter how sexy he thought her to be and trying to prove worthy of her love.
But she never showed up to work. For three days straight, she didn't show up to work and he began to grow worried. He approached his supervisor and inquired about her whereabouts, but Marcus Flint, who had helped him get this job in the first place so he could be closer to Granger, sniffed haughtily and said that it was none of his business where Miss Granger decided to take her expertise. Draco was a bit confused at his answer, but returned to his desk anyway, watching for the next few weeks for any sign of her. But there was none.
He sighed and shook his head free of his musings before getting ready to start his day. He showered, shaved and dressed before heading downstairs for some breakfast. He saw a few of the house elves scurrying about, carrying cleaning supplies from one of the larger guest rooms, but paid them no mind as he continued to the small dining room where his breakfast was waiting.
He finished quickly and decided to Floo into work a little bit early. As soon as he got there, he realized that something was deeply amiss. He found his office door wide open and several men in moving company uniforms walking in and out with boxes. He walked in to find the walls stripped bare, his filing cabinets open and empty and his desk almost completely clear.
"What is the meaning of all this?" he yelled. "Where are you taking my things?" A particularly burly uniformed man with a clipboard looked up. He assumed that this must be the head idiot.
"Are you Draco Malfoy, sir?"
"Yes, of course I am, hence my displeasure at finding my office stripped bare." The man said nothing, only held out the clipboard and asked him to sign some form. Outraged, he ignored the man and stalked over to Flint's office.
"Flint, I demand to know what is going on and where those men are taking my things." Marcus set the manila folder he had been perusing down atop his desk and gave him an amused smile.
"It seems, Malfoy, that you have been offered another position with a private firm. They are moving your things over to your new office as we speak."
"But I didn't apply anywhere. And I wasn't consulted about this. Can they do that? Just hire me sight unseen?" Marcus shrugged.
"Apparently, so."
"Well, who is it?" Marcus' smile grew wider and, if he wasn't mistaken, the man's eyes twinkled a bit, like he knew something that Draco didn't.
"They didn't say."
"What do you mean they didn't say? How could you just allow this transfer to occur without my knowledge and without even knowing who hired me? What if they're not established? Or worse, what if this 'firm' doesn't even exist?"
"Relax, Malfoy. I have an address. You can go down there yourself, if you want, and ask them yourself." He took down the address and promptly turned to head out of the office and to the nearest Floo. He shouted out his destination, annoyed and infuriated, prepared to give his new 'supervisor' a piece of his mind.
He stepped out of the fireplace and found himself in a cozy sitting room. The colors reminded him of her, warm, gold and red tones and, not for the first time in the past six weeks, he wondered how she was doing and if he would ever see her again, angry or not.
He approached the receptionist's desk, but there wasn't anyone there. The desk was empty, as if no one actually occupied the desk. He looked around him. Everything seemed new and fresh. Perhaps this was a new firm?
He continued on, past the receptionist's desk and through the open door, which led to a long, brightly lit hallway. The first door directly to his right was a storage closet, containing not yet opened cleaning supplies. The one to his left was a conference room with floor to ceiling windows along the far wall. A long table was centered in the room, but no chairs yet. Perhaps they haven't been delivered yet.
The second door to his right was a rather small office, as was the second one on the left. The third door to the left was the men's lavatory, and the door across was the women's. The last door to the right had a name plaque already on the door. Draco Malfoy, Associate Attorney at Law. Associate? How could he already be an associate when they hadn't even met with him yet? And it wasn't as if the cases were coming in the truckloads at the Ministry. He didn't even get any high profile cases or even any particularly serious ones. The most serious case he had to date had been between two old mistresses of some recently deceased duke or some other noble. Both claimed that he had promised them his mother's diamond and sapphire choker, but it hadn't been written into the will which one would actually have it upon his death.
He turned the handle to his new office and saw that everything had been placed exactly as it had in his old office. He smiled as he entered, walking around and familiarizing himself with his new surroundings. The office was significantly bigger than the one he had occupied at the Ministry and also had floor to ceiling windows along the back wall. He looked out and took in the beautiful view of the London skyline. He was grateful for the promotion, but there was still the issue of not even knowing who hired him and who thought themselves worthy enough to just pick him up and dump him here. His anger returned as he exited the room and headed to the office across from his, confidently assuming that whoever was behind that door was responsible. Without even bothering to glance at the name plaque on the door, he barged in to find his new "supervisor" sitting in a large, leather, wingback chair, facing away from him and out the identical landscape that he relished in his own office. He stupidly realized that the windows must have been enchanted.
"Excuse me, but what is the meaning of all this? Who do you think you are, fancying that you could just pluck me out of my office and put me here, making me an associate of all things! I haven't met you and you certainly haven't met me or know my background if you think I qualify for such a position." The figure didn't speak or turn around, but he knew that whoever sat in that chair was listening.
"I demand that you turn around, face me like a man and explain yourself." Still no reply. He grew very irate and stalked over to the desk, coming around it and grabbed a hold of the chair, prepared to make whoever it was daring to rule over his life talk to him.
"Answer me, damn it!" He finally turned the chair around to face him.
"Oh, Malfoy. You're so damn sexy when you're mad." He blinked up at the woman who had been haunting his dreams for the past six weeks. The woman who had decided to disappear from his life, still holding on to his heart. The woman who had left no note, no inkling as who what happened to her and caused him to be worried sick about her for six, long weeks. The woman he had missed dearly and just wished that he could see for one last time, but believed that he never would again. But finally seeing her, after all this time and without any warning, he reacted in the way any normal human being would in this situation. He got mad.
"What is the meaning of all this, woman? Do you realize that I have been worried sick about you for the past six weeks? You missed work, you didn't call or Floo or even send a bloody owl to let me know that you weren't maimed in a ditch somewhere or if you still wanted to be with me or if we were over or any of that. I sat around moping for six weeks, not knowing what to do to make things better and believing that I had officially fucked things up with the greatest woman I had ever had the opportunity to meet let alone have in my life because you literally disappeared. And now you have the nerve, the audacity, to make up some fake law firm, hire some men to pack up all my stuff and bring them here and for what? What are you doing here, Hermione?"
"You know, that's the first time you've ever called me that?" Draco blinking, not believing his ears. After all that, the only thing she could say in reply was that.
"What the hell is wrong with you? What are you on about?"
"I mean, Draco, that I call you by your first name, but you've never called me by mine. This is the first time, since I've met you, that you've called me Hermione. Even when we were fucking, you never called me that." Draco's eyes narrowed, his ire and embarrassment and even a little bit of hurt causing the heat to rise in his cheeks.
"Is that all I was to you? A good fuck? Is that why you never told me that you loved me or why you never moved in with me, or, fuck, I don't know, talked to me in the past six weeks? Were you done fucking with me?" Her brow furrowed in her own frustration and hurt, but he was too angry to acknowledge it.
"No, Draco! You know that that is not it at all. And you should talk. It wasn't as if you tried to contact me, either."
"Because I was trying to give you space! And when you didn't give me any sign that you wanted to try again, without me 'infuriating' you everyday, I assumed that you didn't want to and left it at that." He began to feel a little bit exposed, revealing his insecurities to her like this and stepped away from her chair, coming back around the desk and sitting in one of the chairs across from her, putting some space between them, hoping that would help ease the tension and take away the rawness of his reopened wound.
"I know that I hurt you," he said quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I really do. And I am sorry that I acted the way that I did. But I couldn't help it. And I did really love you, Hermione. I still do. But I still stand by everything that I said before. And I really wished that you had seriously considered it instead of luring me here like a fool." Hermione spoke sharply, revealing a little bit of that angry side that he had missed so much.
"I didn't just make this up for you, don't flatter yourself Draco. And I did seriously consider everything you said. You're looking at the new Senior Associate of the Granger Law Group. I put in my two weeks that Monday, worked from home for that duration and spent the rest of my time taking out loans and pulling money out of my savings to start this company. So this isn't just a ruse to get you to talk to me. I did it for myself, whether you would take the position or not or take me back." He was a little dumbfounded, and very impressed by what she had accomplished in so little time.
"I have already contacted all the people regarding the cases you were working on when you left and had them assigned to other attorneys. I've also networked and asked around and found some possible clients. We already have our first case: Pansy Parkinson wants a divorce, apparently, and wants us to represent her."
"Pansy wants to divorce Gregory Goyle? But she had to have signed a prenuptial agreement. And theirs is tighter than the one my mother had to sign before marrying my father. If she tries to divorce him, she gets less than nothing. Everything she went into the marriage with would then belong to the Goyles."
"Which is why I need your help on this case. You know the inner workings of the Pureblood upper crust society better that I do and you could probably find a loophole better than I can." He smiled, taking her words as a compliment.
"Besides," she continued, "Pansy would probably feel more comfortable giving up any and all pertinent information if she was talking to a friend." He nodded, but didn't say anything more. They sat in silence, the tension still present and he waited patiently as he knew there still had to be more to what she had to say. After a few long, excruciating moments of uncomfortable silence, she spoke up again.
"I've also been taking anger management classes." This surprised him.
"Why would you do that?"
"I felt that part of the reason that it was so easy for you to get to me is because I had such a short temper. I thought that if I had better control over it, you wouldn't affect me so much." She stood and came around the desk to sit in the chair next to him.
"I've missed you, Draco, and I meant what I said, too. I want to love you, too. When you aren't being a prat and purposefully getting on my nerves, you're the smartest, handsomest, most wonderful and thoughtful man that I've ever met. You genuinely care about your cases, no matter how asinine they may seem. And you don't really just goof around in your office all day, I know that. You do work and you've never lost a case. That's a great accomplishment." She inched her hand to meet his and he didn't pull away. She took that as an invitation to place her cool hand fully atop his. But as much as he longed to, he didn't turn his own over just yet, allowing her to get everything off her chest.
"What I'm saying, Draco, is that I'm ready to let myself love you and I want to try again, if you'll let me back into your life." He simply smiled and finally turned his palm over to grasp her small hand in his. He leaned over to share a sweet kiss with her and she tasted better this way than when they were sharing angry, impassioned kisses. She pulled away, a smile on her face and her voice a bit shaky.
"Is that a yes, then?" His answer was to pick her up and place her in his lap, deepening their kisses.
"I am still mad at you, you know," he said quietly after a few moments, repeating her words from all those months ago. She smiled against his mouth.
"I know. But you're so damn sexy when you're mad." He smiled and continued kissing her, decided that he would try his damndest to never make her angry again…much.
FIN
Aaaaaaand there it is! My first ever one-shot and I'm so glad I managed to make it so. Thank you for reading and I'll try my best to finish up those other fics before the year ends. My goal is to have "The Color Green" done before September, and I think I might rework "The Dreams of a Dishonest Man" and finish that before the end of December. I have another idea for a Jane Austen inspired story, but I decided not to even think about starting that one until I'm completely finished with what I have already.
TTFN, and please enjoy the lyric's to my muse song below if you aren't familiar with it.
It's just the cutest thing
When you get to fussing (cussing)
Yelling and throwing things
I just wanna eat you up
I don't mean no disrespect
When I start staring
Knowing that it makes you mad
I'm sorry that seeing you mad is so sexy
[Hook]
Could it be the little wrinkle over your nose
When you make your angry face
That makes me wanna just take off all your clothes
And sex you all over the place
Could it be the lil' way that you storm around
That makes me wanna tear you down
Baby, I ain't sure, but one thing that I do know is
[Chorus]
Every time you scream at me
I wanna kiss you
When you put your hands on me
I wanna touch you
When we get to arguing
Just gotta kiss you
Baby, I don't know why it's like that
But you're so damn sexy
When you're mad
Baby, don't think I don't take you seriously
But I just can't help the fact that your attitude excites me (so exciting)
And you know ain't nothing better
Then when we get
Mad together and have angry sex (I'll blow you out)
Then we forget what we were mad about
[Hook]
Could it be the little wrinkle over your nose
When you make your angry face
That makes me wanna just take off all your clothes
And sex you all over the place
Could it be the lil' way that you storm around
That makes me wanna tear you down
Baby, I ain't sure, but one thing that I do know is
[Chorus 2x]
Every time you scream at me
I wanna kiss you
When you put your hands on me
I wanna touch you
When we get to arguing
Just gotta kiss you
Baby, I don't know why it's like that
But you're so damn sexy
Every time you scream at me
I wanna kiss you
When you put your hands on me
I wanna touch you
When we get to arguing
Just gotta kiss you
Baby, I don't know why it's like that
But you're so damn sexy
When you're mad