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“The point is, Malfoy, you’re the best—”
“—of bad options,” Hermione coughed.
Malfoy smirked at her before turning back to his Auror partner, “Can’t you ask Weasley? I’m sure he’d be absolutely delighted to do something other than… whatever it is he does.”
Harry glanced over at Hermione who looked pointedly at the floor.
“Ron’s not an option,” Harry said in his Auror voice that left no room for arguing. “And I trust you.”
Hermione looked like she was going to be sick.
“Granger,” Draco said demurely, “I would if I could, but I’m afraid we wouldn’t make a very convincing couple.”
Before Harry could say anything, Hermione’s head shot up to glare at him. His second favorite of all her expressions.
“I can be very convincing, I’ll have you know.”
Draco laughed too loudly to be considered nice or polite, “I’m sure you are an excellent actress, the best in fact. But you haven’t got a bone in your body that knows how to play a girlfriend in love.”
Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione cut him off. “I’ve actually been a girlfriend in love. If anyone’s going to have trouble, it’ll be you.”
“ Me ?”
“ You ,” she repeated. “When was the last time you hung on to a date for longer than a few days?”
“Just because I’m not pictured in the paper looking distinctly uncomfortable in the presence of someone I’m supposed to be in love with,” a much too specific example, “doesn’t mean I’ve never been in love.”
All Harry could do was stand back and watch as his best friend and Auror partner had it out. He hoped they’d get any feelings of animosity out now. There really was no one better to ask. Thankfully, Hermione had silenced the room beforehand. The shouting match that was brewing wouldn’t be arousing any suspicion.
“And who’s the unlucky lady?”
A fresh bitterness coated her words and Harry could feel a change in the air.
“As if I would tell you.”
She scoffed, “Truly convincing, it’s a wonder I ever doubted you.”
Harry moved to stand between the two. Draco had never looked like this around Harry, so he had no frame of reference, but he did know that something was going to happen. The more they spoke the more he hoped it would just be shouting. He was conflicted over where their ‘conversation’ was going to end and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Draco remembered himself at his friend’s interference and quickly let his face fall into casual smugness. That was definitely a look he recognized.
“Granger,” Draco said slowly, as if speaking to a child, “you couldn’t even bother to spare me a proper good morning, how in Merlin’s name are you going to convince people we’re in love?”
Hermione said nothing, but her whole body stiffened at the challenge.
“Nothing to say?” Draco held a hand to his ear.
At those three words, Harry wished he was in any room but the one he was in.
“Draco.”
It was like someone had flipped a switch and Hermione Granger had become another person entirely. Her stiff body relaxed into something very un-Hermione-like. The same posture as the girls that had approached in bars prior to his engagement to Ginny now graced her. Her eyes darkened in what could only be interpreted as desire. The scowl that had been specially perfected for Malfoy slid into a sultry smile. And she’d called him Draco , which was never a good sign. Overall, Harry felt uncomfortable at the blatant seduction she had directed at Draco. Uncomfortable enough that when she pushed him aside, he almost fell over.
“Good morning, my love.”
Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders, fingers playing softly with the short hairs on his neck. Harry definitely wanted to be anywhere other than here.
“How did you sleep?” she asked.
Hermione pressed herself closer and Draco slowly lifted his hands out of his pockets to rest lamely at his sides. Draco had never looked so panicked and uncomfortable. He could only tell as much from spending years at his side, to anyone else he would only seem vaguely surprised.
“Hermione,” Harry warned.
Just as Hermione had flipped a switch in her own body, Draco slipped into another persona.
“Well enough, darling.”
His hands slipped around her waist, a single pinky finger dipping under the hem of her skirt. Whether it was Draco who pulled them closer, firmly slotting their hips together, Harry couldn’t tell but Hermione made no objections. In fact, she hummed . She hummed at what was, at best, workplace sexual harassment.
“And how did you sleep?” Draco purred.
His left hand drifted up her back and tugged lightly on the first curl he met.
“Wonderfully. I dreamt of you, Draco.”
Now Draco was humming and Harry was weighing his options. Should he interrupt whatever was happening or slip out of the room and leave them to it? Never had he seen either of his friends act like this. If he hadn’t known better, Harry would’ve been convinced Hermione was about to kiss Draco.
“Oh?” he said lowly.
His best friend nodded stupidly, “Would you like to know what we were doing?”
Draco brushed a stray curl from her face and was studying the stranger in his arms like he never wanted to forget.
“Tell me.”
“We were in your office and I was giving you a proper good morning.” Harry watched in horror as light fingers dipped from his neck to his shoulders to his chest to catch on his belt loops. “Your favorite kind of good morning.”
That decided it. Harry definitely wanted to run. She was rising to her toes, closer to his face. Merlin, Hermione Granger was going to kiss Draco Malfoy in his office. And, from the looks of it, he was going to let her. Possibly even kiss her back.
“Hermione…” Draco breathed into her mouth, leaning forward just a bit.
Rather abruptly, Hermione yanked herself away and the tension snapped. Her face was one of triumph and it took Harry a few long seconds to understand what had just happened.
“Told you I could be convincing.”
Draco said nothing, only let his carefully crafted mask of indifference slide over his face. Still, Harry could see a brief spark of something that abruptly made him less trusting to let Draco and Hermione play at being in love for a week. Hunger. He wanted her and she was oblivious. Even now, she was turning away to face Harry with a gleeful smile.
“Pick me up at seven, my love ,” she called over her shoulder and opened the door.
The silencing spell broke a heartbeat before Draco found his voice.
“It’s a date,” he practically shouted after her.
Harry Potter looked between the witch pushing past the frozen Aurors and his partner who was gazing after her. Hermione looked back, her steps never wavering, and gave them both a wink.
It was like watching a countdown without knowing the exact outcome. Hoping it wasn’t dangerous, but knowing that you definitely shouldn’t be around when it hit zero.