Never Been Kissed Like That

NEVER BEEN KISSED LIKE THAT

Chapter Eleven

"Chasing Granger"

He closed the door with a loud bang that angrily echoed through the marble- floored corridor. He was seething with rage and the need to break something; anything to get rid of the nervous tension the meeting had left.

Breathe in, breathe out, slowly. Breathe in, breathe out; his nostrils expanded with the heavy inhaling. There was no point in hyperventilating and letting some of the Ministry workers find him unconscious on the floor. Too much explaining, plus the inconvenient shame of being caught in such an embarrassing position.

If only Fudge didn't make him that mad.

"Your incompetence shocks me greatly, Mr. Malfoy. I believed you had inherited the great ambition and talent you father possessed to always get what he wanted," the minister said.

Draco's jaw had clenched at the mere mention of Lucius. "I suspect you didn't call me here to discuss my genetic heritage, Minister. I have to go on a mission in a few minutes," he said slowly, not letting his temper flare.

Fudge took no notice and continued. "Our arrangement is showing no beneficial results, Mr. Malfoy. If the task I commanded you to perform is proving so difficult to accomplish, I'll be more than willing to use other... methods to get hold of the agreement Ms. Granger has in her possession," he said maliciously.

By methods, of course, he implied crashing in on Hermione's apartment by force, or even getting the information directly from her. A cold chill ran through his spine at the mere thought of what Fudge was able to do to get the document from her.

"That won't be necessary," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Of course not." Fudge flashed one of his fake, broad smiles. His teeth were unnaturally white, probably due to abuse of Lockhart's Charming Smile Solution. The result gave Draco the creeps.

"I'll give you one more week. It seems old Grupnik is reluctant to part from this world yet, but I doubt he'll last much longer. Not if I can prevent it." He said that last part in a whisper, smiling to himself.

Without a glance backwards, Draco had left the Minister's office. The secretary, usually coquettish and talkative, bit back any comment at the murderous look on the young Auror's face and winced when he slammed the door on his way out of the Minister's wing.

One week; he had only one more week. Draco's mind raced with the possibilities for completing his task, though the answer was plain in front of him. It would be relatively easy, effective, and painless.

He would seduce Hermione Granger.

A dinner date would do it. It wouldn't be difficult to get a late drink in her apartment. A drop of Veritaserum, a night of confidences; it would suffice to make her spill the location of the agreement. Later, he would disappear from her life, and she would be free to hate him forever.

Easy, effective, and painless, the words echoed in his head, odd and distant. He was such an arrogant prat, he thought. With a heavy sigh, he resolved to accomplish the task as soon as possible, and forget about the rest.

*****

Draco reached the Auror department and spotted a messy, black-haired head in the distance. Perfect. Some healthy, abusive bickering with Potter was just the best way to get rid of all negative energies.

"Hey, Potter. You look a bit greenish this morning. Something you ate, perhaps?" He feigned a preoccupied look while addressing the young Auror.

Harry threw him a testing look. "I knew it was you behind this," he pointed at the waste bin, where a chocolate muffin lay with only one bite taken.

Since their adventure with the man-eating, psycho, carnivorous plant, Draco had taken notice of Harry's aversion to liver and had consequently added it to his long 'Things to Annoy The-Boy-Who-Whined' list. It had been so easy to change Potter's breakfast muffins with some liver-filled ones that he only regretted not being present at the glorious moment Harry had a mouthful of his prank.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco lied, approaching Harry's cubicle and leaning on one of the shelves with a smirk on his face. He would have added a sarcastic and quite humiliating comment he had in store for the occasion, had not he become momentarily speechless.

She had decided to dress up a little bit, since she was paying a formal visit to the Ministry. Well, that was one of the reasons. After a short trip to the magical patents department to establish the conditions for the sale and reproduction of wolfsbane potion, a quick visit to the Auror Department was compulsory. Just because Harry was there, of course, because Harry was her friend. It had nothing to do with the fact that she might be encountering the startled blonde ogling her that very moment.

His gaze slid from her high-heeled boots all the way up her legs, to her close-fitting black wool dress, to end looking straight into her caramel eyes. From head to toe, she was the devil's temptress, and Draco happened to be the unfortunate demon. Bloody hell. She was the last person he needed to see right now, and even less looking that damned pretty.

"Granger," Draco finally drawled, managing to get hold of his composure. Now, if he could tear his eyes from her legs, everything would be perfect.

"Hello, Malfoy," greeted Hermione, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Just the man she wanted to see.

Harry cleared his throat, for the other two seemed to have completely forgotten his presence. And they were in his cubicle.

"Want some water, Potter?" Draco turned to face the raven-haired man. "I do believe we must get going in about ten minutes, and I don't suppose you're wearing that," he gestured toward Harry's robes.

"No, I brought some Muggle clothes. I just have to change, and you must be doing the same, too," Harry said.

"I've already changed into my undercover clothing." The blonde lifted his robes a bit, revealing a pair of the newest model of Nike trainers and faded Levi's engineered jeans.

"Posh even in disguise, Malfoy," Harry snorted. Then he turned to Hermione, who had left her sitting position on his desk. "Sorry, Herms, we've got work to do."

"Now, Potter, hurry up and let's have fun," Draco sneered.

Harry took a bag from his desk, presumably containing his undercover clothing, and said goodbye to Hermione. He left with a last glare at Draco, who opted to ignore it.

Draco turned and directed his steps to his own cubicle without a word to Hermione. He was still mad at Fudge for giving him an ultimatum, and he was also mad at Hermione for making everything complicated. If she weren't that damned bright, he would have stolen the agreement without a problem a long time ago. But no, she had to appear just now with those sexy high boots, and he wasn't prepared to deal with her right then, when his brain wasn't working properly.

"Malfoy," Hermione called after him, but he acted as if he had not heard. This was not exactly going as she had expected, but she didn't really know what she had expected, either. The man was driving her insane; one day kissing her, a moment later implying he was not attracted to her, and then leaving her a silly little chocolate on Valentine's day and messing everything up all over again. Of all the men in the whole universe, why did she have to like him? It wasn't as if he were a Greek god.

She reached the cubicle into which he had disappeared and found him taking off his robes, revealing the Muggle clothing underneath. The blue t-shirt accented the azure tint in his grey eyes, like cold steel. Maybe he was not a Greek god, but he was too good-looking for his own good.

Draco Malfoy was like a difficult book, and Hermione loved books. She wanted to read him, to translate him, to reveal his mysteries. If only she could reach him.

"What?" he spat. He didn't intend to sound that harsh, but suddenly Hermione's presence was unnerving him.

"I... You, you look younger dressed like that," she said, wondering what she had done to receive such an unpleasant tone.

"I am young. Let me remind you we're just the same age. We were in the same year at school, Hogwarts, remember?" His temper was rising dangerously, and he would be exploding very soon if she didn't leave. He turned to his desk and began opening the drawers in search of something, anything not to look at her. Why was she still there, anyway? Didn't she know that he was just a bastard that wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of her to get what he needed? Didn't she know he'd hurt her? Didn't she know he was not worth a fraction of her time? She was a bright witch, for Merlin's sake!

"I do know... it's just, I... dargh!" His demeanour was making her lose her patience. "I just wanted to thank you for the sweet you left for me in the Watercolours the other day."

He slammed shut the last drawer and turned to her. "It was just a stupid chocolate bar, Granger," he said sadly. It didn't matter that the stupid, sugar-free chocolate had reminded him of her, that he had carried it for a week not daring to give it to her, that he had pictured the amused look in her eyes when she received it, or that he had dreamed of tasting the sweet traces of the chocolate on her lips. It only mattered that he had been stupid enough to give it to her, and now she was thankful, and it wasn't right, and he felt like crap, and he wanted her just to disappear and leave him alone.

"Yes, it was just a stupid chocolate bar." With that she turned and left, and Draco felt all the anger disappear, only to be replaced by feeling miserable.

He sat down and hit the wooden surface of the desk with his forehead. Shit, why did I wake up today? He thought. After several moments, he stood and grabbed a jacket, hurrying to the elevators, chasing Granger.

*****

Hermione fumbled in her bag for the car's keys, mumbling incoherently. "Stupid git... Stupid chocolate... Don't know why I care..." Her hands were shaking with anger, so it was good that she didn't need to put the key in the lock to open the car.

"Granger!"

She turned and saw Malfoy approaching her from the telephone box that served as the Ministry's entrance. Opening the door in haste, she entered the car and inserted the key into the ignition.

"Please." Draco was tapping at the windowpane and looking at her pleadingly.

She closed her eyes and counted to five before lowering the window and looking at the man kneeling there.

"What the hell is this, Granger?" Draco surveyed the car curiously.

"It's a car, Malfoy," she said coolly.

"I know what a car is. This is not one; it's... weird."

"It's a Beetle, and it's not weird! Did you come just to make fun of my car, Malfoy?" she spat.

Draco leaned closer to the window and looked at her seriously. "No. I'm sorry."

"Well, I know some people find Beetles ridiculous cars, but I happen to like mine very much."

"No, Hermione." She looked at him with wide eyes. He had called her by her first name, like that day on the frozen lake.

"I mean, I'm sorry for acting so rude before. I was angry, and you came across my path." Draco felt that was the truth; for he hadn't been mad at Hermione but at himself for being weak and sentimental. Hopefully, it had only been a momentary weakness.

"Oh, that makes me feel better. Do you have anything more to spit out or can I just go?" she said sarcastically.

"No more spitting."

"Fine," she cut.

Neither of them moved, though. Hermione gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her eyes intently fixed on it, Draco's intently fixed on her. The silence was unnerving.

"Did you like it? The chocolate, I mean," Draco blurted. Hermione turned her head and eyed him cautiously. He felt himself going pink and cursed his fair skin mentally.

Was Draco Malfoy, heir of the Slythering pride, world's official pain in the ass, blushing? Or was it the reflection of her red car's painting? Either way, her anger started webbing away while she examined his flushed features, deciding whether she wanted to slap him or to kiss him senseless. He was such a git.

If she only knew the twists she provoked in his stomach every time she looked at him. What was it he wanted to ask her? He had already forgotten.

"I don't understand you," she said serenely. "And I think I never will. What do you want from me, Draco?"

He was not expecting that question, that was for sure. What did he want from her? He wouldn't mind if she said his name again, he had never realized it sounded so good, or was it her saying it?

"I... I want..." Draco snapped his mouth shut. This was not time to voice his wants. There was one thing he needed from her, so he broke her gaze and gathered his resolve together. The faster he did this, the better.

"Uh, Granger, would you like to dine with me? We can, um... continue with this conversation then." He gave her his lopsided half-smile that he knew worked wonders with the opposite sex.

Hermione was stunned, and before any rational thought could take possession of her brain, she heard herself agreeing. Fantastic, next she will die her hair blonde and start a career as professional cheerleader. It didn't matter she had obtained a total of eleven outstanding NEWTS, her brain was finally, irrevocably melting down.

"Tomorrow night, then?" he asked. He needed at least one day to brew some Veritaserum, for its sale was strictly controlled, and he didn't want to attract attention by purchasing it anywhere else.

She sighed, knowing it was useless to pretend she was still annoyed. "Tomorrow I'm attending a charity dinner for St. Mungo's fund for the investigation of magical maladies. They're raising funds for things such as the reversal of permanent memory loss and the cure for werewolf bites. You know, Remus Lupin is an important member of the WMCA, so I cannot miss the event."

"Wednesday, then?" Draco suggested.

"Got a date with Narcissa and the drunkard witches tribe. Care to come?" Draco quickly shook his head and looked at her as if she had sprouted another bushy head.

"Okay, I think Thursday evening is free for me," Hermione said amusedly.

"Night duty, and no, no one will trade shifts with me. Don't ask why," Draco groaned. If he had known that to get Granger on a date required planning this far in advance, he would have asked her out a month before.

"Well, it seems we're rather busy people," she chuckled.

"Friday is my last offer," he said in a mocking tone. "Take it or leave it, woman."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Friday's all right, then. Now move before I repent and run down you with my car," she said as she started the engine.

"That's a menace from someone proud of driving a bug," he sneered.

"Repeating the most popular phrase ever to refer to you," she smiled brightly. "Sod off, Malfoy." With a last wink in his direction, she steered the car out onto the street and disappeared in the busy traffic of the city.

Still chuckling, he turned to the Ministry's entrance, where Harry stood looking at him disapprovingly. Draco raised one pale brow questioningly.

"If you hurt her, you'll have to answer to me," Harry said.

"Mind your own business, Potter."

"Oh, but this is my business, mind you. Hermione is my best friend, and don't think I didn't notice how you look at her."

Draco looked at the black-haired man curiously. "What do you mean?"

"If you don't know, then you're thicker than Crabbe and Goyle put together, and they were rejected for the driver post of the Knight Bus, you know." Harry shook his head sadly.

Draco frowned and followed Harry into the underground station from which they had to begin their investigations. The sounds of people coming and going reverberated through the narrow, tilted corridors, but only one thought ran inside Draco's head. How do I look at her? How do I look at Hermione Granger?