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If Draco were a wiser man, he would have turned her down.

He would have said no, they couldn’t date because stuff and reasons. The main one being his steadfast feelings for her.

But he wasn’t a brave man either.

Had he any friends they might have stopped him from agreeing to something that would undoubtedly end poorly for him.

But friends these days were scarce.

And so he agreed to pretend to date her. She made it seem like such a good idea, after all. Besides, he knew he’d enjoy putting Cormac in his place.

He also knew from the moment she asked, he wouldn’t be able to say no. He had wanted Hermione for years after all, and here was the smallest hope of, at the very least, a chance to be closer to her.

Maybe he could even pursue her. Maybe she’d be open to the idea of being with him.

It was a thought he rarely entertained. Though wizarding society had accepted him, he was not optimistic about the brilliant witch returning any feelings for him.

Draco glanced at the clock and groaned.

It was showtime.

——

Hermione kept checking the time, willing the minutes to tick by faster. Cormac had been there for the past quarter of an hour, talking about himself.

Even the sound of his voice caused her jaw to tighten.

“I love how into reading we both are.”

She cast a disinterested glance his direction.

“Although,” he drawled as he placed his feet on her desk, “You’ll remember from the work party that I only read French and Russian literature. I mean, they’re the most complex and sophisticated in the world, muggle or magical.”

“Mmm.”

“But I think it’s delightful, Love, the fact that you read common literature. I don’t know why you bother, but I find it adorable.”

Hermione closed her eyes to keep from rolling them. “I don’t know how to say this more plainly: I am not your ‘love’.”

The sound of a light knock opened her eyes. Draco had a hand up to the doorframe, leaning in like he was telling a secret.
“Okay, Darling?”

At the term of endearment, Cormac pulled his feet from her desk. He turned to face his competition.

“Hi Sweetheart,” she greeted with a grin, “yeah I’m okay.”

Cormac’s head whipped back to Hermione’s. Confusion evident on his face. His hands gripped the arms of his chair. Hermione bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

Draco approached her oak desk. He spoke as if Cormac wasn’t there.
“I’ve got a couple errands to run before our date, but I was thinking I’d pick you up around 8:30. How does that sound?”

Hermione’s grin widened.
“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

Mouth agape, Cormac was actually speechless. Draco and Hermione turned to look at him, as if finally noticing he was there, and just waited.

Slowly, Cormac stood and backed out of her office. Draco followed him to shut the door as he left.

He let out a sigh.
“Was that all right?”

Hermione rushed over to him, curls bouncing.
“All right? That was perfect! Did you see his face?”

“Poor bloke couldn’t even speak,” Draco smirked.

“No don’t ‘poor bloke’ him. The pretentious, pompous, cretin has had it coming for ages.”

Draco’s eyes widened.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“As long as you don’t call me a ‘Mudblood’ we should be good.”

His gaze fell to his shoes.

She ducked her head in order to meet his eyes. Her voice filled with remorse.
“Hey. I’m sorry I brought that up. It’s way behind us now. I was going for a sarcastic, dark humor sort of thing; Harry says I don’t pull it off well.”

Draco worked his jaw over.
“He’s not wrong.”

“I really am sorry. I know you’d never call me that now.” She noticed the clock.
“Shoot! I better get going. I’ve got an appointment to get to.” She placed her hand on Draco’s forearm, “Thanks again Malfoy. I really do appreciate this.”

Before Draco could respond, she’d gathered her things and swept from the room.

After another minute, he straightened his tie. Standing tall, he left her office; pushing the day’s events to the furthest corner of his mind.