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“When I heard a member of the Golden Trio was to join the ranks of Unspeakable, this is not what I expected.”
“I am glad I caught you off guard, Malfoy. It makes what I have to say next more joyful for me.”
Hermione watched the tense exchange awkwardly. She didn't know why she made the trek through the ministry, to the Department of Mysteries. Oh wait, she just needed the excuse to see Draco Malfoy in those midnight blue robes that looked sculpted on him, emphasising his broad shoulders and thick arms.
She bit her lip, at the thought of how those firm shoulders might feel under her hand, devoid of inky blue robes. She cut off the soft whimper that escaped her, as her thoughts delved further south, with a cough. Malfoy and Harry both looked sharply at her, seemingly having forgotten her presence.
Hermione looked away from the tall blonde’s molten gaze, but he seemed to be more interested in her heated cheeks than Harry's new status as Unspeakable. “Are you coming down with a fever, Granger?” he purred.
She squeaked, hesitating, “It's only this level is hotter than I'm used to.”
Harry barked out a laugh, and then shrugged grinning, palms facing up as Hermione glared at him.
Malfoy had managed to work himself into her personal space, looming over her, one of his warm arms resting heavily around her shoulders. “Is it the level you find hot, or is it me, Granger.”
Hermione let out an involuntary shudder, the proximity and heady scent of amber and woody musk clìging to Malfoy making her light-headed. She giggled and he raised an amused eyebrow.
“I'm afraid I have to leave you cold and dry for now Granger, need to show my new protege in the Death Chamber the ropes. But tonight, I can make sure you all toasty warm and wet for me.”
Her ears burned, but she managed a nod before hightailing it back to her office. Some head of the DMLE she was — she had navigated life-threatening situations with more finesse than she had while talking to her fiancé.
