Draco, Hermione, and Harry sat around the small kitchenette of the DMLE.
“Hermione, please! It’s the Annual DMLE Christmas Ball. Every Auror is expected to attend. Pleaaaaasse don’t leave me alone with those people. A woman pinched my cheeks last time!” Harry pleaded.
A cough that suspiciously resembled laughter sounded from Draco. “Which cheeks, Potter?” He drawled, silently chuckling.
Harry stuck his tongue out in response, and faced Hermione with his begging puppy-dog eyes.
“I’m sorry, Harry, but I already told McLaggen I can’t go with him because I’m sick.” She said, putting a hand on her forehead and faking a cough.
Harry changed tactics. “You don’t want Malfoy representing your team do you? All rich and snotty and definitely-not-pro-SPEW?”
Draco mockingly placed a hand above his chest, as if clutching his pearls. “I’ll have you know that all of my house elves are free & paid a generous salary.”
“With benefits.” Hermione chimed.
Draco placed his hands behind his head & smirked. “Yes, thank you, with benefits.”
Harry groaned. “Fine, don’t come. I’m telling everyone you have an extremely embarrassing & contagious rash.” He turned to Draco. “Looks like it’s just us, Malfoy. I know a ponce like you wants to be wooed. What flowers should I bring you?”
Hermione nearly fell out of her seat.
Ignoring Hermione’s giggles, Draco drawled, “Potter, you could not even fathom the luxuries that wooing me requires.” He picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and lazily scanned its contents. “Regardless, I already have a date.”
Hermione’s head snapped toward Draco while Harry slammed his forehead onto the table.
“Excellent. The three of us then. Who is the poor sou—I mean lucky woman.”Harry groaned, his voice muffled by the table.
Draco, the picture of comfort with one leg crossed over the other, didn’t bother to look up from the Prophet as he said, “Granger.”
Hermione actually choked then, coughing violently enough to convince Harry to lift his head and smack her back a few times.
“I-I’m fi- Harry that’s enough!” Hermione managed to say, Harry merely shrugging in response. “What was that Draco, which Granger?“ she narrowed her eyes at him.
“Unless your mother responds to my owls, that would be you.” He said playfully, eyes glinting with mischief.
Harry looked between the two. “I—am confused.”
Draco merely returned to the Prophet. “You’ll forgive me for my lack of surprise. I’m taking Granger to the Ball, she is now aware I’m taking her to the ball, & McLaggen can weep from relief that she’s miraculously recovered.”
Hermione’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Coworkers—partners yes, but neither had ever taken a step towards addressing their sexual tension. To do so in such a calm, simple way, as if it would not be groundbreaking for her to attend with him!
“Malfoy, I–“ she began.
“I took the liberty of commissioning a dress for you, Slytherin colors of course. Think of the uproar! I can see the headlines now: golden girl fraternizing with the snakes.” He mused, finally meeting her eyes.
She couldn’t help her smile. “Careful Malfoy, snakes & lions are a dangerous combination.”
His eyes roamed down to her lips. “Is that a challenge?”
Harry stood up shaking his head. “No, nope, no, I’m out.”
The lion & snake remained as they were, smiling like fools.