Work Text:
Hermione sat in her office at the Ministry, finishing up the last of her work for the evening. The whole day had been an absolute disaster from the moment she had arrived at the Department of Magical Transportation that morning. She had been putting out fires —both figuratively and literally —all day.
This was not her normal post. Typically she worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but when Gustav Elms caught a highly contagious case of Doxie mumps, Minister Shaklebolt asked Hermione to step in temporarily. In her two short weeks as Acting Head of Magical Transportation, she had observed a severe lack of oversight in almost every area.
Worst of all was Floo Regulation. Not only was the whole staff incompetent, but their request log was longer than a Norwegian Ridgeback. The absolute worst part, in Hermione's opinion at least, was the fact that Cormac McLaggen worked there. His job had no real significance, therefore he spent the majority of his time annoying others, including Hermione, to no end.
So, when Hermione received an urgent notice about a problem with the Floo Network right when she was about to leave for the night, she couldn't stop the scream that burst from her.
URGENT: Undersecretary Granger, your assistance is requested in Floo Regulation. There has been another explosion.
Would this day ever end?
She took several calming breaths before she made her way down the hall to Floo Regulation. It did not appear as if any explosions had occurred from the outside. She pushed the door open cautiously, checking for any evidence of scorch marks on the walls or floors.
Instead, all she could see was Cormac sitting at his tiny desk, an air of arrogance practically oozing off him. He sat back in his chair, feet propped up, hands tucked behind his head like he hadn't a care in the world.
"Ah, Undersecretary Granger, so nice of you to finally answer one of my messages," Cormac said, a smile twisting upon his face in a way that made her stomach curdle.
Hermione blinked, not sure what to make of the fact that there was no visible reason for her to have been called to Floo Regulation in the first place. She narrowed her eyes as she looked back at him.
"Pardon me, Junior Assistant McLaggen," she sneered, drawing out his title while trying her very best not to let her eyes roll into the back of her head. "Your message mentioned yet another explosion, but everything seems to be in order here, at least for a department that employs you."
No matter what his connections were within the Ministry, McLaggen had never been able to progress past the rank of Junior Assistant. Rightfully so, as he was a terrible employee, perpetually late, completely clueless, and clearly overcompensating for something.
McLaggen narrowed his eyes in confusion. That did not surprise her, insults often flew over his head. He stared at Hermione, his eyes lingering on the exposed neckline on the dress she had already changed into for the evening. Hermione's skin suddenly felt like she had a hundred lacewing flies crawling underneath her skin. She did her best to maintain a professional presence, but she couldn't help the look of disgust that crossed her face.
"Going somewhere tonight?" he asked as his eyes continued to slither over her body.
Hermione ignored his question as that was none of his business.
"Was there a particular reason you sent me an urgent notice about an explosion when you knew perfectly well that no such incident had occurred?"
"There was an explosion alright," McLaggen chuckled.
Hermione looked around the office once again, searching for other signs of a magical explosion, but found none.
"Oh, kitten, I didn't mean a Floo Explosion," he said, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner that made Hermione's stomach turn.
Hermione couldn't keep the look of revulsion off her face now.
"McLaggen, I am not sure what you are insinuating here, but I would very much advise that you stop before you receive consequences that you are not prepared to deal with," she said in a firm, political tone that she often had to use with men twice her age.
"I have no idea what you mean, Undersecretary," McLaggen said as he stood from his desk and stepped towards the spot where she was standing.
"I am sure you don't. Not much of a surprise, if I’m being honest with you," Hermione chuckled, standing firm.
"What isn't a surprise?" McLaggen asked, eyebrows crossed in a mixture of growing frustration and confusion.
"You can't fill out a Floo Registration form without making at least three mistakes, so of course you are failing to comprehend when a witch is completely uncomfortable in your presence."
"What do you mean, uncomfortable?"
"I mean the way you look at me is literally making my skin crawl, Cormac!"
"Don't lie, I know you love it! Remember your 6th year? You were all over me then!" McLaggen exclaimed, stalking closer. Hermione refused to budge. She would not give him power over her.
"I hate to break it to you, but I was using you to make another boy jealous."
"No, you wanted me, I could tell."
"No, I found you quite disgusting actually. Just like I do now. So, if there is no work emergency, I will be going," Hermione said as she turned to leave.
An uncomfortable heat stung her wrist as she tried to flee. McLaggen had closed his surprisingly small hand around her, keeping her in place.
"You're not going anywhere. Not until you admit that you want me. That you wear these little dresses in an attempt to get my attention. Well, princess, it worked, you have my full attention now," he said in a low voice, that he probably believed was seductive.
"You bloody wish!" Hermione yelled, wrenching her wrist from his grasp as he attempted to snake his other hand around her waist.
Just as Hermione managed to free herself, a pulse of magic catapulted McLaggen backward into his own desk, air rippling from the spell’s force. She spun towards the door to see Draco Malfoy, dressed in an all black suit that looked like it was made just for him. His wand was drawn, eyes narrowed in fury. Hermione could practically see magic crackling around him.
"Don't you EVER put your hands on my wife again," Draco snarled, walking towards Hermione to place a protective arm around her. "In fact, I think you should stay away from her at all times unless you want to lose those hands."
A panicked McLaggen nodded, eyes overflowing with terror. Draco quickly swept Hermione from the office and into the corridor.
"Hermione, darling, are you alright?" Draco asked, his eyes searching hers as he held her head gently in his hands.
"Yes, Draco, I’m fine," she promised, giving him a short peck for reassurance. "But, you do know, I can handle myself, right?"
"Believe me, I know for a fact you can. You are nothing if not a lethal combination of competent and creative. I just couldn't stand to see his sleazy hands on you."
Hermione smiled. "Well, thank you, and I am right there with you on the sleaze factor."
"Why exactly was he near you anyways?"
Hermione informed Draco about the urgent memo and subsequent conversation with McLaggen. She could see Draco's jaw tightening as he listened to her story.
"So you are telling me that not only did he send you a false memo, but he accused you of dressing in a provocative way for him? What the hell is his problem?" He asked, jaw clenched, brows furrowed in anger.
"Apparently he is under the delusion that I have secretly wanted him since sixth year," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Draco chuckled. "You mean he… he seriously thought… you were into him?" Draco finally got out between bouts of laughter, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye.
Hermione let out an exasperated breath.
"What gave him that impression? Was it you pointedly ignoring him at every Ministry gathering? Or perhaps our wedding photos in the Prophet? Those probably screamed 'woman who is secretly pining for me.'" Draco laughed.
Hermione couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. "Well, knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised if that was his thought process."
"That is if he has ever had any thoughts in that pumpkin he calls a head."
"Draco!" Hermione scolded, bringing a hand up to her face to cover the smile that was forming. "Thank you for saving me, even if I didn't need you to do it," she said, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head into his broad chest.
"You are welcome. I will never let anyone make you feel like that again, my love," he responded, pulling her closer and placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"Thank you, Draco. Now, can we leave and go on the date you promised to take me on already?"
"Of course, let's go," he said, taking her hand in his as he led them to the lifts.
"Bowling?" Hermione asked, genuinely shocked at the venue Draco had chosen for their date.
"Yes, bowling. It was one of my favorite pastimes as a child. We even had a lane at the Manor. I used to play for hours," Draco said as he held the door open for her.
She had been bowling a few times with her parents when she was a kid. In her mind it seemed like such a muggle activity, so it was funny to think of Draco bowling as a child.
"Of course you had your own private bowling lane," she responded, giggling.
"Yes, and I held the lane record for three years, might I add."
"Oh, yes, must have been awfully difficult to hold a record on a lane in a house of three whole people," Hermione chuckled.
"My father happened to be a wonderful bowler. I wasn't able to beat him until I turned eleven!"
"Must have been quite the feat taking down ol' Lucius."
"I am not a fan of all this cheekiness. I guess I'll just have to show you how good I am."
"I would love to see it. Come on, let's go get our shoes," Hermione said, making to pull him towards the stand that housed the rented shoes. Draco gave her disgusted look.
"Darling, you can't seriously believe that I would put my foot in a rented shoe, do you?" He asked incredulously.
Honestly, she should have seen that coming. He discreetly pulled out his wand and transfigured both of their shoes into matching green pairs of bowling shoes. They were surprisingly comfy, probably a cushioning charm Draco had added himself.
"That's on me. Of course someone who had their own bowling lane would have their own bowling shoes. It only makes sense," Hermione said as Draco narrowed his eyebrows at her. Hermione giggled. He was so cute when he was annoyed with her.
He took her hand, pulling her to an empty lane that appeared to have been paid for already. He had thought of everything. Hermione was so thankful to have a husband like Draco who considered all of the little details so she wouldn't have to concern herself with them. She had enough of organizing and keeping people in line at her job, so she was grateful that Draco took on much of the planning in their relationship.
"Darling, please don't feel put out if I beat you this round. I have had a lot of practice," Draco said, picking up a perfectly predictable emerald green ball.
"Oh yes, I can't wait to see what Malfoy Manor's Reigning Champion is going to do on this old muggle lane," Hermione giggled as she made to pick up a scarlet ball from the rack.
"You'll see! I bowled a 300 almost every week."
"Let's see then," Hermione said, gesturing towards the lane.
He swaggered his way to the approach line. As much as his arrogance might frustrate the hell out of her sometimes, she had to admit he looked damn good with all of that confidence. Draco spun around to wink at her before he turned back to throw his ball. The ball started off on a dead center trajectory only to veer into the left gutter about halfway down the hardwood. Draco's eyebrows knitted together, utter disbelief on his face.
Hermione tried her very best to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up.
"Must be a different type of hardwood that they have here. Nothing to worry about. The rest of them will be perfect," Draco said, as he collected his ball from the return. She could tell he was a bit shaken. It was not often that things did not go Draco's way because he was annoyingly good at everything he tried.
His next throw was decent, knocking down 7 pins. He seemed somewhat satisfied as he made way for her to throw.
"Need any help aiming?" he asked, a flirty smile on his face.
"No, because you will just distract me," Hermione responded, planting her feet and rolling the ball between her legs granny style. To her utter amazement, she knocked down 9 pins with just one left in the corner. Her face lit up as she turned to see Draco's jaw dropped in shock. Quickly recovering, he offered a sweet smile of adoration.
Hermione was able to knock down the final pin for a spare while Draco's next three turns went about as poorly as the first had. He only managed to get a spare once while Hermione managed it all three times, even throwing a strike. Draco's face was growing more frustrated by the minute. Hermione couldn't resist messing with him.
"Don't tell me, it must be the muggle lanes this time. A bit too narrow?" she asked cheekily.
"I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m serious. I think there is something really different about this lane. Like something is just slightly skewing my aim. I have never done this badly before."
"Maybe I am just better than you."
"I have no doubt about that in most things, darling, but I swear I am normally very good."
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Now, move over so I can continue to kick your butt," Hermione laughed, making to take her next shot.
A loud cheer erupted from the lane next to them. She turned to face the source of the disturbance, to see a joyous young child celebrating what seemed to be a strike. Hermione smiled. Draco looked frustrated.
"Maybe you should ask her for some tips," Hermione suggested as Draco scowled at her.
"There is no way that small child was able to bowl a strike that easily. Even I wasn't able to do that at her age."
"Well, I think we have established that she is better than you."
Draco lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper near her ear. "Do you think she could be a witch?"
A laugh burst from Hermione before she could stop it.
"What?" Draco asked.
"Sweetheart, she is using the bumpers. I doubt she is a witch," Hermione chuckled.
"Bumpers?"
"The little rails on the sides that stop the ball from going into the gutter."
Draco's jaw dropped once again, completely shocked. "There are rails to stop balls from going into the gutter?" he asked, half shouting. Hermione nodded her head. "How do I get them?"
"Draco, those are meant for children to use!"
"But I want them. Think of how much better I would be!"
Hermione fixed him with a serious look. "Really?"
"You can't tell me it would help."
"As much as you are currently acting like a child, you are not one. You do not need bumpers. You’re doing fine without them."
"Fine," Draco said with a frown.
Hermione and Draco went back to playing. She could see the mounting annoyance on his face, so she kept her ribbing to a minimum. Truthfully, he seemed to be getting even worse, like something was throwing his aim off just enough to make a difference, but not enough to make him completely incompetent. Very strange.
A little too strange.
She turned around to inspect their surroundings when she saw a body flop behind the shoe stand. What the hell?
"Did you see that?" Hermione asked her husband.
"See what?"
"I think there was someone watching us who just dove behind that sign."
"Who was it?"
"I don't know, but I have a weird feeling in my gut."
Draco took her hand and led her over to the shoe racks. She peered over the side of the counter to see a crumpled form in a bowling alley uniform attempting to hide their face.
"McLaggen? What the fuck?" Draco asked, astonished.
McLaggen's eyes went wide with panic, like a rat caught in a trap. His attention moved quickly between Hermione.
What the hell was he doing here?
"Did you follow us?" Hermione asked in disbelief.
"No!" McLaggen cried.
"If you didn't follow us, what are you doing here?" Draco asked.
McLaggen remained silent as he fidgeted with the hem of his polo shirt.
"Wait a second," Hermione paused. "Cormac, do you work here?"
The realization hit her square in the face as he sat up enough for her to see the bowling alley logo.
"McLaggen, my wife asked you a question. Answer it," Draco demanded through gritted teeth. His grip on her hand tightened.
He refused to meet their gaze as he whispered, "Yes."
"Why are you working here if you have a comfortable job bothering my wife and being an absolute wanker at the Ministry?" Draco asked.
McLaggen got to his feet, his eyes still on the floor.
"Good Godric, you need the money, don't you?" Hermione asked.
"No! I have tons of money. More than this slimy Slytherin you like hanging out with," Cormac boasted. Hermione highly doubted he had much more money than her parents did, let alone the Malfoys.
"So, why are you working here then?" she asked, completely lost.
"Do you just fancy cleaning fungus filled shoes for a knut an hour?" Draco added.
"Who would fancy that?" Cormac asked, dumbfounded yet again.
Draco looked at Hermione, silently asking if McLaggen was for real. She let out an exasperated sigh.
"If you don't need the money, why are you working here?" she questioned.
"What's it to you?" McLaggen bit back, glaring at her.
"Watch it. My wife might be undeservedly polite to you because she is your boss, but I am not. I meant what I said earlier. I will not hesitate to slice off your hand or head," Draco said, moving to clutch his wand at his side.
Whatever ounce of courage McLaggen had mustered vanished with Draco's threat. His shoulders sagged and Hermione's eyes were drawn to the name tag on his chest that read 'Randall.' Who was Randall?
"Cormac," Hermione started cautiously, "do you go by Randall here?"
"Randall? Who is Randall?" McLaggen asked.
Draco's eyes caught the name tag and she could see the realization click on his face. "Do you really work here, or did you just follow us here and take that uniform to spy on us?" he asked.
"Okay, fine. I don't really work here," McLaggen admitted with a huff.
"Were you trying to sabotage our date?" Hermione added.
Again, McLaggen stayed silent.
"Answer her," Draco demanded.
"Yes," McLaggen admitted.
"So, you were the reason why Draco's aim has been slightly off all evening!"
"No!"
"Why would you do that? Are you really jealous of him?"
"Of course I am jealous of him! He stole the only woman who has ever given me the time of day!" Cormac shrieked, reaching out to grab Hermione's shoulder, but Draco was quicker. He intercepted McLaggen's hand, twisting it behind his back and pinning his head against the counter.
"Draco!" Hermione warned.
Draco frowned. "But, darling, he was trying to touch what clearly isn't his."
"Obviously he’s delusional. I know he’s an absolute knobhead, but he isn't worth going to Azkaban for. Leave him and we can go home," Hermione explained.
"Fine," Draco huffed, slamming McLaggen down again a bit harder than was necessary.
Hermione reached her hand out for Draco and they walked out of the bowling alley together. As soon as they were through the doors, Draco burst into a fit of laughter. Hermione couldn't help but join in.
"I told you something was off! I am a fantastic bowler. Had to have been magic interfering with my skills."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I guess you were right. Funny how his magic didn't really even affect you that much. It is almost like his magic wasn't strong enough to truly mess you up."
"Just another way in which he is utterly inept at everything he does," Draco laughed. "Come on, my love, let's go home."