Current mood:	awake
Entry tags:	*fic, character: draco malfoy, character: hermione granger, fandom: harry potter, genre: humor, genre: romance, gift, rating: g, ship: draco/hermione

D-A-T-I-N-G
Title: D-A-T-I-N-G
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: not-quite Book 7 spoilers
Rating: G
Summary: How the entire population of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came to witness a very passionate snog between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy one otherwise uninteresting afternoon.
Notes: How have I NOT posted this yet? I swear that I did, but I can't find it. Oh well. This was written back in December for hp_secret_santa.

D-A-T-I-N-G

Draco Malfoy was sitting, minding his own business as he had been doing for the past three hours, when all of a sudden, he felt himself being pulled backward by the collar of his shirt. He gave a strangled yelp, the sort one emits when being choked from behind, and thrashed his arms about, scrabbling to incapacitate his attacker.

“Don’t move, you’ll only hurt yourself,” came a low, cross voice by his shoulder. Recognizing it at once, he went limp and arched a solitary blonde eyebrow.

“What’s wrong now, Granger? Did someone put a niffler in your office? Or was it Sneezing Powder this time?” His lips twitched into a smirk.

“Save it,” she snapped. “I’m in no mood for your witticisms.”

“Then why ever are you here?”

Abruptly, she released her hold upon his shirt and stepped back. He could see her more clearly now; there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and her curls seemed lank and bedraggled. However, what concern he felt in light of her appearance was carefully hidden behind his amusement.

At length, she sighed. “We’ve a grave problem, I’m afraid.”

“’We’? Is there a niffler in my office, too?”

“Don’t be daft, Malfoy, this is hardly the sort of thing to joke about.”

“Well then, enlighten me.” Draco leaned back in his chair, feeling much more comfortable now that he was not in any immediate danger. He folded his hands in his lap, waiting.

“Carmelita Frisbourne,” Hermione began with an ireful flash in her eyes, “happened to spot me last night round nine o’clock. Or rather, I suppose one could say the significance is that she saw where I was last night.” She cast him a meaningful look. “This morning, she thought it within her rights to search through my desk and papers… as well as yours.”

Draco frowned. “She can’t have, Granger. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve been here all day—certainly longer than this Frisbourne woman. Not that it’s been worth my time in the least bi—”

“She waited until you went to the lavatory.”

“She—what? That foul—”

Hermione paid no mind to his outburst as she plowed onward. “And so, just ten minutes ago, she was kind enough to inform me that my—my ‘secret relationship’—with you wasn’t going to be so secret any longer. I—she had the nerve to… Of course, I told her to mind her own business, but that doesn’t mask the fact that we’ve been caught.”

Draco furrowed his brow as he thought. Then, slowly, he said, “So… what you mean to say is… that she waited until I needed to go to the toilet—?”

“Malfoy!” Hermione cried in frustration as she tossed up her hands.

“Well, really, I’ve just had my privacy invaded, and—”

“You need your head sorted out if you think that’s more than a trivial matter at the moment!”

“What else is there that could possibly be more important?”

“What else—we’ve been discovered! Everyone is going to know that you and I have been…” She faltered.

“Dating?” Draco shook his head. “Honestly, Granger, it’s not a difficult word to pronounce.”

“But don’t you—”

“Let’s say it together, shall we?” He cleared his throat. “Dating… D-A-T-I-N—”

He broke off into a chuckle when she began to glower at him.

“Don’t you find it at all discomfiting that ‘We’ are no longer a ‘secret’?” Hermione placed her hands upon her hips.

“Not particularly,” he drawled. “It’s not as if we’re having some sort of torrid affair—unless, of course, there’s someone else you haven’t told me about—”

“Of course there isn’t,” she interrupted, clearly scandalized by the idea.

“And besides which,” he continued, “everything has changed since the war. We’d hardly make the last page of Witch Weekly, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Oh?” Draco looked at her innocently.

“Well, if—”

“Yes?”

“If we can’t be a ‘secret’, then we should, at the very least, be subtle.” Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her lips pursed as she considered various courses of action.

“What should be subtle, Granger?” Draco pressed with a smirk. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.”

She looked at him blankly, on the verge of exasperation.

“The fact that we are…?” he trailed off.

Hermione bit her lip. “Dating.” She paused, gazing at him strangely. “You know, you’re completely—you’re such a horrid twit.”

Instead of feeling mildly insulted, Draco’s smirk merely grew. With a sigh, Hermione bent and placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek.

Just as she was beginning to smile, there was a great shuffling of feet by the doorway. A moment later, a voice shouted, “Holy mother of Merlin’s uncle!”

As if they were animals caught in a pair of bright lights, Draco and Hermione froze.

“I—it’s not—” Hermione stuttered at the unprecedented interrupter.

“Oh, sod it,” Draco muttered to himself. He stood quickly, taking hold of Hermione’s shoulders. For a brief second, she looked almost frightened by the gesture, but she soon relaxed into his arms, biting her lip shyly.

And that was how the entire population of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came to witness a very passionate snog between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy one otherwise uninteresting afternoon.

THE END