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The Dating Game	By : saritat9 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I make no money out of this. No copyright infrigment intended.

Chapter List
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The Dating Game

Chapter 2 : The Quidditch Player
Friday came sooner than Hermione ever could have thought or hoped. Draco had tried to call her a couple of times but she hadn't answered. She knew she was being ridiculous but she didn't want to talk to him yet.

It was six thirty in the evening when Hermione finally apparated home from work. The day had been even busier than normal, and she was really beat. She kind of wished she could just strip off her clothes and fall into bed, but that wasn't an option. Not when it had been eleven months since her last date!!

Hermione petted her cat on her way to the bathroom. She took a couple of caffeine pills from the cupboard. She preferred those to the varying potions available for exhaustion, tiredness and stress.

Water was hot, just how she liked it, as she let it cascade all over her naked body. Working wonders with the quick placebo affect of the caffeine, it cheered her up immensely. She lathered herself with creamy, chocolate smelling soap and shampooed her hair. Then she brushed her teeth the muggle way, as she couldn't quite trust the dental charms to do the same job.

She walked to the bedroom, the cat following her close by.

"Oh, Crookshanks, what should I wear? I don't want to seem like I'm trying too hard but I don't want to look like a...a muggle accountant!"

Crookshanks just tilted his head, staring at her. Hermione felt silly, asking fashion advice from a cat. Damn it.

No.

No.

Definetely not.

No.

Maybe.

Okay, this one could work. She pulled out a raspberry coloured woollen dress that had a demure neckline and a long slit at the hem. Sophisticated. Pretty without being slutty, but still something that made her feel comfortable in her own skin. That's the one, she decided.

She dried her hair with a quick spell, and let it hung open in wild, frizzy curls. She rummaged through her drawers to find her eyeliner, mascara and melon lipgloss that she rarely used. When she was ready, she glanced at herself in the full length mirror. She sighed.

It was seven fifty now. What was she supposed to do with herself for ten minutes more? As if to answer her question, the phone rang.

Draco. Time to stop being childish and pick up the phone.

= = =

"Hi."

"Finally, Granger! Are you still mad at me?"

"An hour ago I was, not anymore."

"Good. You got all riled up for nothing."

"That's a matter of an opinion, but I admit I might have...overreacted."

"Let's just forget it. I wanted to wish you luck for your hot date!"

"Thanks. He should be here in a few minutes."

"Okay we better hang up then. Have fun, Hermione. Call me tomorrow."

"Unless I find myself in some strange bedroom when I wake up. Oh, that's the doorbell. I gotta go, bye!"

She had hung up. Was she serious? Hoping to get it on with Whitmore? Whitmore was too old for her, too much of a ladies' man. For awhile he didn't remember it was him, Draco, who had handpicked him for her, and that Charles Whitmore was only about seven years their senior. Draco shrugged the thoughts away. Hermione wasn't Whitmore's type, she would be safe.

= = =

Hermione felt nervous fluttering as she opened the door.

She was almost impressed. Not that looks meant everything, if anything, but it was positively flattering to have Harry fix her up with someone so...fine. Even though he looked too handsome, too tidy, too rich to be her type, really.

Oh yeah, the same type that came up with Ron? A voice in her head mocked. Ron who was constantly chewing on something, compulsively eating as much as he could shovel in his mouth and who more often that not looked like he had been degnoming the garden for an hour or two. Hermione felt irritated by herself and the thought process she couldn't control. Forget Ron! Nevermind Ron! she chanted to herself.

"Hi. I'm Hermione Granger." she said shyly as she offered him her hand to shake. Instead of shaking it, he took a hold of it and briefly and softly kissed it like a gentleman. Hermione couldn't remember anyone doing that to her before.

"Enchanted." he purred.

"Uh, Harry never mentioned your name..."

"My name is Charles Whitmore. You can call me Charlie...or anything you like."

Hermione flushed. He was a terrible flirt!

"Okay...Charlie. Shall we go then or do you want to come inside for a drink?"

"I'd love to but I have a reservation made for us, so we better go."

"Alright. Give me a second so I'll get my coat."

Charlie hurried a couple of paces after her and helped her get her coat on.

= = =

To Hermione's surprise the restaurant Charlie had chosen for them wasn't as posh and pretentious as she had feared. That proved that neither was her date.

The maitre d led them to their table that was next to a charmed window that showed a lake that wasn't really there. The dining area was quite small and homely. There were only ten tables, half of them for two and the rest seated four.

Sensing her thoughts, Charlie explained that the owner was an old friend of his, and this was where he came to relax. And the food was great.

That much she had to agree on. With no fuss or too many garnishes, her mushroom lasagne was simply exquisite. Charlie fed her a forkful of his Fettuccine di Pesto alla Genovese and it didn't come off any short from her lasagne.

After dinner they ordered dessert. Hermione couldn't resist the temptation of Chocolate Mousse, while Charlie was satisfied with just a black coffee and petit fours.

"I hope I'm not being rude by asking, but I'm curious if both of your parents are wizards? Not many pure blooded witches or wizards I know still like coffee much. I never would've thought that to be such a muggle drink."

"Very perceptive of you. No, my mother is a muggle. Tell me, have you never heard of William Whitmore?"

Hermione scrunched her face in thought.

"No, I cannot remember hearing about him. Is he related to you?"

"Yes. Nevermind. That's not important. Tell me about your family." Charlie smiled.

Hermione couldn't help but like the guy. It was written all over his face that he wasn't just asking to make polite conversation, he really was interested in people; he really wanted to get to know her. Wow.

"Well, as I'm sure you've heard from Harry, I am muggle-born. Both of my parents are dentists."

"Really! You never considered a career as a mediwitch? "

"Well, my current work does have something to do with medicine. Working as an actual mediwitch? No. I never considered that. I can only wonder how Madame Pomfrey got through the years Harry, me and... Ron were at Hogwarts! It seems like we were at the mediwing every other day!"

Charlie laughed.

= = =

Charles Whitmore couldn't quite figure the situation out.

Miss Hermione Granger, as smart and well-read as she obviously was, had no idea who he was, or who was prestigious William Whitmore. Usually when witches claimed they didn't know who he was or who his father was he could always tell that they were lying. But not Hermione Granger. She obviously didn't care. Not in the money-hungry way anyway.

How did Draco know this witch? How well did he know her? Why would he fix her up as if she wasn't capable of getting her own dates? Charlie was sure that she was. Maybe she hesitated because of the dry spell Draco had referred to. Some guy was probably involved in that.

How could Draco call this pleasurable girl "only average looking"? She was definitely beautiful in a less pronounced way that might take time to really notice.

Charlie knew himself. This girl had too much...depth, for him. But the problem he was now facing was that she had too much depth for Malfoy as well! Especially if Malfoy wasn't a gentleman enough to get her a date without making it sound like a root canal performed by her father.

Draco had told him not to let her know he knew him. Hermione had no idea of his involvement, let alone his less than tactful or truthful phrasing. Charlie found himself doubting whether or not they were even friends. He had to ask her.

Hermione interrupted his train of thought when she asked if he wanted to come in for a drink now. In light of his thoughts just moments ago, that seemed like a very good idea.

"Thank you. A nightcap would be nice."

He followed her into her apartment, spotting a huge orange cat sitting on the sofa looking very dignified. The cat looked like it might have some kneazle in it. Interesting. He liked this girl even more.

"Listen, Hermione. I need to ask you something."

Hermione looked at him, obviously startled by his serious tone and the intense look in his eyes. She even seemed a tiny bit scared.

"Ummmm okay?"

"Do you know a wizard called Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, sure. He's a friend of mine. Why?"

Charlie thought that Hermione sounded a bit hesitant.

"How good a friend is he?"

After a little pause during which the young woman just stared at him, he hurried to add,

"I don't want to sound too forward but there is a good reason I am asking this."

"I'd say we're quite good friends. I've known him since we were eleven, though we were next to immortal enemies for the first six or seven years."

"I see. What would you say if I told you that your friend Harry didn't set us up. That it was Draco?"

"Wha-what? It was Harry that set me up with you. A brown haired quidditch player who likes to read. Draco had nothing to do with it, he didn't even know of it until Harry told him."

"And when was that?" Charlie had his suspicions.

"Few days ago, Tuesday I think. Why?"

"Because it was Wednesday morning when Draco Malfoy sent me an owl, asking me to go on a date with a friend of his. The friend knew nothing about me except that I am a brown haired quidditch player. In fact, I WAS a quidditch player as Draco well knows. If you ask your Harry, I'm sure he doesn't know I've already retired. Knee injury that they couldn't fix."

"Why would he do this? Why would either of them do this?" Hermione was angry and confused. But Charlie hadn't told her everything of importance yet.

"He told me, quote unquote, that you've had a dry spell and that you aren't my type, you're only average looking and that I should take you to dinner and then bring you home."

"He wouldn't say that!!...Would he?"

Charlie saw her eyes glisten and he was sorry it was him who had to tell her.

"He did."

Charlie could see in her eyes the moment she believed him. She just stared at him, frozen.

But then Charlie got an idea. An idea to help this brave young woman to get her self respect back and a way to find out why Draco had set them up.

"Miss Granger...Hermione. I have a suggestion."

Hermione didn't reply.

"What do you say if we made passionate love tonight and fall madly in love with each other, against all odds? "

Hermione went very pale and then she blushed.

"I-I don't think..."

"Relax! We don't really have to do it. But Draco doesn't need to know that."

= = =

Draco couldn't concentrate on Isabelle's caresses. To tell the truth he didn't like waking up next to someone, were she caressing him or not. He gave his dates a couple of hours of bliss and they gave him his privacy. Isabelle was an exception to the rule, and Draco resented it a bit.

But Draco's mind wasn't on Isabelle. It was on Granger. He wondered how the date had gone. He had half expected to hear from Charles right after the date, but he had heard nothing. Hermione hadn't called either. He turned to look at the time. It was past nine. Surely she was up already. Why hadn't she called!?

He made an excuse to get away from Isabelle, and went to the kitchen to call Hermione undisturbed. He let it ring as long as it could. Nothing. Hmph!

Isabelle was putting her clothes on as he returned to the bedroom. Draco made a half hearted attempt to hug her, but she wasn't to be fooled.

"I'm tired of this, Draco. All you want from me is a good lay while you wait for your perfect virginal ideal witch to come into the picture."

Draco was struck speechless as Isabelle pulled on her high heeled boots and grabbed her handbag.

"Don't owl me for awhile, okay? I want to think. This isn't what I want. And I've come to think this isn't what you want, either!"

With that, she was out of his apartment and out of his life.

Bugger.

He couldn't help feeling a bit relieved. Isabelle clearly wanted something he couldn't give her.

Draco tried calling Hermione three more times. Finally he gave up. Maybe the date hadn't gone well and she was mad at him again.

Making a quick decision Draco pulled on his traveling cloak and dragon hide boots and went to see Hermione. He apparated at her front door. As he knocked, he could hear faint voices inside.

The door was opened wide and then he saw her. Really saw her.

Hermione was wearing only a shirt, a man's dress shirt that came down to her mid thigh. She wasn't wearing a bra and the points of her generous breasts were visible through the shirt. Her hair was a bushy bed mess of curls and her brown eyes gleamed in excitement and anxiety. She was nervous and flushed.

"Draco! What a...surprise!"

"Are you feeling well, Hermione? You seem a bit off."

"I'm just perfect. Uh, Draco, this isn't a good time- -"

"Where did you run to, my little slave ? Come back to bed so I can kiss and lick that really sexy mole you have right under your...Draco!"

Draco stiffened. A half naked man with Hermione. A half naked Charles Whitmore who wanted to lick Hermione's mole, situated Merlin knew where. Half naked Charles Whitmore who had weaselled himself to Hermione's bed and gotten to see her naked. And the half naked Hermione Granger didn't seem to mind. She was as red as beetroot, smiling at Charles who smiled back. Draco felt a strong, irrational urge to punch Charles in the face. Hard.

"Good to see you, Draco, but my little kitten and I were right in the middle of...something. So see you later!"

With finesse that could only be achieved with years of practise and actual talent, Charlie had ushered Draco back to the corridor as the door was shut on his face.

He could hear Hermione giggle. Soon the giggle turned into a scream and laughter as Draco pictured Whitmore attacking his prey. In his mind eye he could see how just a few minutes ago and probably again in just a couple of minutes Hermione bucked and writhed under Charles' pistoning thrusts, how she clawed his back with her neat, short fingernails and moaned his name.

What kind of twisted nightmare was this? How could pure Hermione Granger fall under the spell of that...that gigolo!

Too long time between boyfriends. That was it, he decided. It had been forever since Weasel, and he could guess just useful he had been in bed. He had called her frigid though. As cheap a shot as it had been, Draco had always sort of assumed there was something to it. But now? With Charles Whitmore? Why not...why not...?

What was he thinking?!

Whitmore was just using her. This was probably just his way to get back at Draco for some old argument and years' rivalry. He had to do something, to convince Hermione that Whitmore wasn't right for her. He'd rather have her be with Weasley, and that was saying something!! Weasley was no competition.

= = =

"That was horrible! I don't think he bought it. Oh God oh God oh God..." Hermione mumbled with her head in her hands.

"Oh, he bought it! He wanted to do me physical harm."

"What was that bit about the mole..?"

"Stroke of inspiration. Magic, sorta speak, is in the details. Plus it did him good to imagine someone else knowing you that intimately."

"I guess we got lucky that he came by. I still don't know if we should really do this- -"

"Luck has nothing to do with it. I was sure he would when you didn't answer the phone. And this, this is just a bit of just desserts, nothing more."

"What do we do now?"

"Now, my dear, now we make him crazy."
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The Dating Game