We're roommates
Of all the weekends to be sent on a remote assignment, it had to be the weekend of Hermione’s birthday.
There wasn’t any particular reason why she wanted to stay home. Previous years hadn’t included anything special other than the hastily planned dinners while she and Ron had dated, a brief and truthfully forgettable period of time. Harry and Ginny were too wrapped up in the chaos of raising their children, a task she did not at all begrudge them. Hell, if she were a mother, Hermione was sure she’d need to hire Hagrid to control the little beasts who would no doubt inherit her hair.
No, what Hermione dreaded this year was that she’d be spending her birthday weekend with Draco Malfoy.
She had to admit after working with the wizard that he was a natural at slithering his way around outdated Ministry policies. She hadn’t really appreciated his brains when they were students, but now in a department rife with imbeciles hired by connections rather than abilities, she was thankful for him. It felt odd saying that, knowing that in another reality Malfoy could have easily bought his way into any department and position—that is, if he would have even deigned to enter the workforce, much less work for the government. Instead, he was her subordinate at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures thanks to the Wizengamot’s ruling after his trial and had been for several years. He might roll his eyes at her ongoing support for magical beings, but he nevertheless did the thorough research she needed.
They worked so well together that the head of their department deemed them a necessary unit for this job. Hermione had inwardly fumed despite taking on the task without protest. If Malfoy immediately accepted, then she certainly could and would…except the git had gone and made a huge mistake.
“Excuse me, what did you say?”
The front desk clerk of the hotel didn’t even bat an eyelash at her sharp tone. Staring Hermione back dead in the eye, she repeated herself, “You have one room. There are no other available rooms for the rest of the weekend.”
“C’mon Granger, it can’t be that bad. Let’s at least go take a look.” He had the audacity to swipe the hair back from his eyes without a care in the world, completely ignoring the glare she sent him.
She grumbled the entire way from the walk to the lift, up eight floors, and down to their doorway at the end of the hall. She stamped her foot in frustration as the ward accepted Malfoy’s wand. She shoved her way in first and proceeded to let loose a string of profanities that would have made the Weasley boys proud. Finally, she pointed her wand threateningly from Malfoy to the nearby couch.
“You will sleep on the couch.”
“I will not sleep on the couch.”
“Well, I certainly won’t. This was your mistake!”
“You won’t have to. We can share the bed like the self-controlled adults that we are.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s a king-sized bed. It’s large enough to line the middle with pillows if you’re that terrified of assaulting me in my sleep.” He smirked at her in his usual infuriating way, before plopping down on the side closest to the door with his arms cushioning his head.
“Me assault you?” Hermione barked out a laugh in disbelief. She refused to tell him that he was lying on her usual side of the bed.
“Of course. I know how irresistible I look, especially when I’m dressed down for the evening.” The muscles in his biceps flexed as if agreeing with the ridiculous claim.
She couldn’t even dignify that with a response, mouth gaping then snapping shut multiple times as words failed her. She had to deal with this for three whole days? She wasn’t even sure he’d survive until the end of the night if things continued as they currently were.
“Come now, Granger, let’s see if this sad excuse for a town has anything resembling good food.”
He bounced up from the mattress and swatted her on the arse with a pillow.
“Malfoy!”
Where had this playful side even come from? He grinned down at her with a strangely relaxed drape to his frame she wasn’t used to seeing. Was this how he always was outside of the workplace?
“We’re roommates now, so we might as well make the best of it.” With a casual flick of his wand in a blatant display of silent magic, he popped open his luggage and sent its interiors soaring into the closet and nearby drawers. His toiletries zipped over the bathroom with another swivel of his wrist.
“I will sleep with you—no, not like that—on one condition.”
“Name your price, witch.” He waggled his eyebrows at the slip of her tongue.
“Teach me that spell you just used.”
He repeated his earlier movements on her own luggage.
“Wait, Malfoy, that’s not what I asked—” Her voice cut off as one particular item stopped mid-flight and flew into his hand.
“Granger, care to tell me why you not only have a Falmouth jersey,” he paused to turn the offending item around before continuing, “but one with Flint’s name on it?”
She could not, would not, look at him. The jersey was one of the softest shirts she owned and her favorite to sleep in. She coughed delicately into her fist and tried to shuffle around him towards the exit.
“We might have…dated…a bit.”
He caught her on the arm before she could completely pass him.
“How did you two even meet?” The curious tone to his voice, not at all judgmental as she had initially expected, encouraged her to finally look up at him. He held her gaze, completely earnest in his question. Hermione was tempted to brush the hair that had fallen into his eyes back into place.
“He, um, had his teeth fixed a while ago by my parents.”
Understanding dawned on his face as he recalled the last time he’d seen Marcus. “So that’s what happened. I wondered who he went to.”
Glancing back down at the jersey, he finally let go and allowed it to join the rest of her shirts in the drawer.
“I’ll show you the details of the spell after dinner as long as you join me.”
He remained serious, smirk nowhere in sight and one hand still warm where it wrapped around her upper arm. She had a feeling she could say no and that he’d accept without a protest. She didn’t need to know the spell—Hermione was fairly certain she could suss out the incantations given enough time and practice. There was just something particularly intriguing about the way that he was looking at her and the entire scenario in which they’d found themselves.
He’d accepted their assignment immediately and booked their accommodation before she’d asked him to. He hadn’t corrected the desk clerk when she announced their rooming situation. Instead, he insisted they share the bed. Now, he was withholding knowledge, which he knew she passionately pursued, with dinner as a requirement.
Hermione was intelligent, but sometimes she had to admit she could be a little dense at times.
“Okay, Malfoy. Let’s go eat.”
Any doubts she might have had about accepting his offer were banished at the sight of the smile that lit up his entire face. The slight squeeze on her arm before he let go and rushed for the door sent a pulse through her body she recognized as want. She hadn’t felt that since…well, since Marcus, which was over a year ago.
Maybe this birthday wouldn’t be so bad, after all.