Meet Your Match

13. Where Do We Go Next time

Hermione stared down at the glossed surface of the conference table and wondered idly what happened to people who peaked at twenty years old. Did they always know right away that it would never get better? Did they try to fool themselves into thinking the best was yet to come? Did their hope gradually wither and die as every day passed and nothing compared to what came before? Did they spend the next ten decades haunted by the memory of the most intense, incredible sexual experience of their life?

A shiver rippled through her and she bumped the elbow of the witch beside her. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed silently and looked back up at her Department Head. This was probably an important meeting. She should be paying attention. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

God, I like this hair. She suppressed another shiver and looked down, drumming her fingers lightly on the table.

I like these fingers. She swallowed at the memory of his tongue sliding between them and dropped her hands into her lap.

I like your cunt. She shifted in her chair and kicked over the briefcase of the wizard next to her.

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered, blushing furiously. Merlin, she had to get a hold of herself. Luckily, the meeting was just being dismissed, and she scampered out of the conference room and into an arriving lift. She clutched her bag to her chest and willed her breathing to slow.

“Hello, Granger.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She turned slowly and looked up into his face.

“Hello, Nott.”

He smiled, and Hermione couldn’t help but agree with Janelle’s assessment. Tall, dark, and handsome, indeed.

“Theo, if you please. Nott is my father.”

“Hello, Theo, then.” She gave him a weak smile and tried for a cheery tone. “What brings you here?”

“I work here.” He inclined his head to indicate the employee badge clipped to the front of his robes.

“Oh,” she said, startled. “That’s nice.”

He chuckled. “Yes, it’s been nice to see some old acquaintances again. Speaking of, I was pleased to hear that you and Draco have gotten so friendly.”

Her brows rose to her hairline, and she flushed crimson. Jesus Christ, had he told his friends they slept together? She stammered as the lift dinged.

“I hope we can get friendly, too,” Theo went on, blue eyes twinkling.

Hermione choked on her own saliva and felt bright red blotches spread over her chest. The lift doors slid open, and Theo waited, gesturing for her to exit before him.

She stared out at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Oh, bloody hell. She hadn’t even noticed they were heading up.

He moved his arm in front of the doors as they started to close and gave her a questioning look.

“Are you getting out?”

“Oh, erm, no actually, I have to—well, the thing is—I’m actually,” she stepped backwards and thumped against the wall of the lift. “I’m heading back down,” she finished, her face scrunching in embarrassment.