His Veela Heritage by RiverWriter

chapter 2

Hermione was fidgeting, she couldn’t seem to help herself. Ever since the communal secretary for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had informed her that Draco Malfoy- of all people- had scheduled an appointment to meet with her she’d been on edge. Not that she was afraid of him, she never truly had been, and she was convinced that he’d changed since the war anyway, but she just couldn’t see any reason that he’d make an appointment with her. That made her nervous.

She could only think of the way he'd fled from her in apparent terror at the fundraiser a couple of months ago, which was the last time she’d seen him, and wonder what he could possibly want from her little underappreciated and much maligned department. Also, why had he chosen to make an appointment with her specifically? She wasn’t even the boss. While the Malfoys had certainly been knocked down a few pegs in society following the war, they definitely still had the clout to get a meeting with most of the department heads in the ministry, yet he’d asked for her.

Truth be told she’d had a bit of a crush on Draco- no, Malfoy, she corrected her overly familiar thought- since he’d snuck up on her nearly a year ago during one of the fundraisers that had, unfortunately, become a staple of her post-war life, and had only laughed good naturedly at her when she'd jumped in surprise at his presence. He had proceeded to amuse her with witty conversation for the rest of the night, or at least until Ron had stormed up and pulled her away. But she’d enjoyed his company on several occasions since then and she hated to think that she’d lost his good opinion for some unknown reason. Though, when she'd started valuing his opinion she could not say and she tried not to examine the question too closely. She supposed, if she was honest, it didn't hurt that he’d become a devastatingly handsome man and it was rather captivating to be able to hold his attention; in short, his company had flattered her. His running from her had been mortifying and so this random appointment made her nervous. What was his game?

In the midst of her inner turmoil he arrived, creating a flurry of activity as he did; most of the employees in her department had not mastered the art of subtlety. Not that she had either, but the war had taught her a few things at least. She didn’t know whether to laugh with amusement or cringe with embarrassment as her co-workers scrambled to get a look at the infamous tall blond wizard. She could actually hear the murmured conversations break out as they wondered what he was doing in their offices. He solved the problem of making her decide how to respond by striding into her office before she could do anything at all, kicking the door shut as he went and somehow managing to actually fall gracefully into one of her stiff straight-backed visitors chairs.

“You're looking good, Hermione,” he said, like he strode into her office and greeted her conversationally every day.

The look on his face as he perused her body, making no attempt to disguise his appraisal, was surprisingly appreciative and it made her blush.

“Thank you,” she couldn’t help but reply, demurely, even as her brain was going a bit haywire at the sound of her first name on his lips, “So are you,” she responded.

And he did, they were 20- supposedly done growing- but she was certain that Draco got taller every time she saw him and more handsome too, unbelievably. She longed to touch him and she hated herself a little bit for it, she wasn't usually so superficial. And though she'd truly begun to enjoy his company as of late, it really didn't matter because there wasn’t a single person she loved who would understand, especially considering that she didn't understand it herself. He may not be the awful boy he had been, but he was a Death Eater. She had managed to see past that in the two years since the war had ended, but she knew that Harry, and especially Ron, found it impossible to do so. She had to get over this silly crush.