The Sweetest Downfall

No Time For Love

"I'll pass," responded Hermione, opening her eyes after trying to wish away her headache, "but thank you for the invitation, Gin. Oh, but do say hello to Oliver for me."

"You don't mind that Ron and I take off, then, do you?" questioned Harry as he glanced between the stack of work and at his best friend. "We could always reschedule."

Hermione laughed for the first time that day. Harry offered to cancel his dinner date with Ginny, but he knew that his wife would murder him if he did. Besides, it was not as if Hermione didn't know Harry longed to spend all the time he could with Ginny; they were recently wed, it's what new couples did during the honeymoon phase.

"You lot go on," Hermione said with a bit of that previous amusement, "I'll make it another time."

As Harry placed back the file he had onto the stack and Ron dusted off his clothes and face from bread crumbs, Ginny gave her brunette friend a frown. "You are always going to reschedule. And I don't mean with us, your mates, but with love in general. There could be great potential with you and Oliver."

Hermione let out a giant sound that expressed her deep annoyance. "Ginny, not this again!" She threw her arms on her desk and hid her face in them.

"Oh, Hermione, come on! I'm just trying to get you back into dating! You haven't gone out with a single bloke since Michael Corner, and that was a two years ago! I just don't want you to be alone anymore. Besides, I know how great Oliver would be to—"

Hermione's heart filled with praise for the Higher Power that sent a miracle her way. Ginny had stopped her rambling when there was knocking on her door. Immediately, to show whoever it was her complete gratitude, Hermione looked up to attend her visitor. Upon realizing who it was, her praises were cut short and she felt a type of tension swell in her abdomen.

"Granger," Draco Malfoy called for the brunette after giving and getting a fleeting look of greeting from the others in her office. "I need your notes for the case we are presenting tomorrow morning to the Wizengamot."

Frozen for a moment, Hermione nodded slowly at the man. "Yeah, um, sorry," she muttered, "I've just been swamped today. I should've sent them earlier, but I've..." She trailed off as she gaped at the scatter of archives on her usually tidy desk.

"Okay, we better get going," spoke Harry with a hint of guilt. "We'll see you tomorrow, 'Mione."

"Please go home tonight," Ron added, "or you'll be a nightmare in the morning."

Harry glared at the redhead. "Don't be a twat."

"What? You know it's true. Besides, I'm saying it because I care. She needs a proper night's rest."

As Ron exited Hermione's office, without sparing a look at the blonde inside, Ginny turned to address Hermione once more before Harry directed her out. "Consider what I just said, yeah? Oliver's a fantastic bloke and he fancies you, Hermione. Give it a shot; you might find love."

"I don't have time for love, Ginny," sighed Hermione, but before the redhead could add more to her repetitive conversation, she was quick to say, "but I'll contemplate it. Now, be gone. Have fun."

At the glee that reflected off Ginny's face, Hermione waited until Harry escorted his wife out of her office and closed the door behind them. As soon as she heard it shut, she used a bit of wandless magic to make sure the door was securely locked and that her friends could no longer get back in.

"Granger," Malfoy called again, watching carefully as the brunette had forgotten that he was waiting on her and she tiredly sagged against her chair, "the notes. Now."

With a loud groan, Hermione grabbed her wand and Accio'd the notes from underneath the disaster of files Ron and Harry had left behind. Once they appeared in the air, she watched Malfoy reach for them. His silver eyes scanned them over, and Hermione knew he was making sure they were up to his standards—even though they've always been, considering that it was Hermione Granger who wrote them. He sat on the chair Harry had been on previously, and remained silent.

With a rolling of her eyes, Hermione rose from her own seat and stretched. Her bones cracked and she felt the pressure on her shoulders slightly ease. Her right hand went to the back of her head and she pulled out the hairpin that had been keeping her hair into a neat bun. She pulled at the bun, unwinding it, then ran her fingers into her scalp to shake out her wild curls.

"You're not going home, are you, Granger?" Malfoy stopped looking over her notes as soon as he heard her get up from her chair. He watched her fluff out her curls, the vanilla scent of her shampoo radiating from her tresses and filling the distance that separated them.

She gave him a quick glance before she went to the small dresser she kept in her office. "Why do you say that?" she asked over her shoulder. She opened one of the doors of the dresser and reached for an empty hanger to place her blazer on.

"You're transforming from uptight to casual," he said from the background, still observing her. "Pop open one more button from your blouse and it could be concluded that you're going to see a bloke."

She turned to face Malfoy. Hermione pressed her back against the doors of the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest. "So what if I am?" she said to him casually, softly. "Who knows, maybe I'm meeting Oliver Wood at his place and staying up all night long."

As soon as she mentioned the taboo name, Malfoy reacted along the lines as Ron previously had. Instead of complaining from his seat as her friend had, however, Malfoy stood and was pressed against the brunette in one quick movement. His hands were gripping her shoulders, not too tightly, but enough to reflect his irritation with her tactless comment.

"He can't have you, Granger," Malfoy whispered dangerously, his mouth close to her lips as he dug those bewitching, silver eyes down at her. "Not until I'm done with you."

Usually, Hermione would've slapped him across the face for thinking that he could get away with thinking that she was some sort of possession, but she had incited him. Purposely, she asked for the reaction she got and she quite liked it.

So instead of angering herself, Hermione rose onto her toes, her lips that much closer to his, and murmured, "what are you waiting for, then?"

The rest was all mouth, teeth, tongue, and flesh tied together with passion and need.