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Title: Being Oblivious
Author: KateKintail
Rating: G
Pairings: Lucius/Hermione?, Hermione/Ron?
Disclaimer: JKR’s characters. I play for free and for fun.
Summary: Hermione is usually exceedingly clever. But there’s one thing she doesn’t see coming.
Notes: Written for the LJ ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) hpdaisychain Lucius/Hermione pairing link. I thought it would be fun to try writing a drabble for each pairing that comes up.
Hermione had been called plenty of names over the years: insufferable know-it-all, the smartest witch in Harry’s class, and the cleverest witch of her age, among others. But one thing Hermione had never been called was thick. That is, not until half past noon on Tuesday, February 13, 2001.
Ron sat in her office at the Ministry, slurping noodles from a plastic take away container. Hermione sat at her desk, the lunch Ron had brought her going cold. And Lucius Malfoy stood in the center of the office for no reason whatsoever.
“I wanted to be sure you got my payment,” said Lucius, his voice smooth and his eyes focused unblinkingly on Hermione. “I needed to be sure you had no excuse to send those goons to my home again, much as I enjoyed their visit last time.”
“A necessary measure,” Hermione said. “I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, I would do the same to anyone who failed to submit his or her house-elf tax in a prompt fashion.”
He nodded. Absentmindedly, his thumb stroked the snake head of his cane. “Oh, I understand.”
“But you didn’t have to hand deliver it to me,” she told him. “Sending it by owl would have been sufficient.”
He mouth curved into a bit of a smile. “I prefer the personal touch.”
She sighed. “Very well. Thank you.”
Lucius did not go; Hermione wished he would. Under her desk, her hand clenched into a fist. She raised her eyebrows. “Is there anything else I can help you with, or will you leave me in peace so I can finally get to my lunch?”
He stepped back, giving her a slight bow. “I will take my leave. Good day to you.”
She nodded and waited for him to leave. She watched his figure retreating down the hallway. Then she sighed with frustration and indignation. With a wave of her wand, the door to her office closed. She could see him through the mildly-fogged glass and saw him look back at the office. “Can you believe that man?” she asked. She sampled her noodles and found them only lukewarm. A quick charm soon had them steaming hot again.
Ron shook his head as he looked in the direction of the door, his eyes a bit wide from shock.
“I mean, why couldn’t he just send an owl like the other hundred families with house-elves?”
This time, Ron looked at her, dumbfounded. “Hermione?”
“Not to mention that he could have just stopped by the finance department. He didn’t have to deliver it to me personally.”
“Hermione…”
“And then, after he gave me the payment, he lingered here pointlessly, as if it were normal for us to have long conversations. Well, all right, there was that talk we had at Draco’s engagement party. And then there was the time he cornered me at the Hogwarts governance meeting and talked my ear off for the better part of an hour. But he could clearly see I was eager to eat my lunch today.”
“Hermione…”
“What in the world was he thinking? Do you think he was doing it just to annoy me?”
“Hermione!” Ron couldn’t take it any longer. He leaned forward, slamming his bowl down on her desk. Hermione jumped at the sudden movement. Then she scolded Rom for the droplets of sauce that spattered her paperwork. Ron didn’t let that stop him. “Don’t you understand what he was doing here?”
Midway through dabbing a piece of parchment with her napkin, Hermione paused. She thought hard, her brain working hard in order to answer properly. But the only thing she came up with was, “He was delivering his house-elf tax.”
Ron gave a groan and a laugh. “What are you, thick?”
Hurt and confused, Hermione didn’t have the faintest idea of how to answer.
“Hermione, he fancies you!”
A look of amusement passed over her face. “Oh, Ron, I’m sure that’s not it.” A full minute passed, when Ron just stared at her. Over that minute, her look slowly transformed from amusement to disbelief. “No, that can’t be it.” Ron stared. And another minute of silence found her disbelief giving way to confusion. “But… he can’t fancy me.”
Ron shrugged. “He does.”
“But…” she looked down at her meal, still steaming but no longer appetizing. “But I’m muggle-born.”
With another laugh, “That doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters to people like the Malfoys.”
“But it doesn’t matter to Lucius,” Ron said. “He already had his pureblood wife, and lost her. And he already had his pureblood heir, who’s getting married and leaving the nest. Now he wants something different. Apparently, that’s you. He wants you.”
“He couldn’t.”
“Yes he could.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Oh, he does.”
“Ron!”
“Hermione!” Ron laughed and, a few seconds later, Hermione joined in.
“What in the world am I going tell him?”
Ron leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands folded. He looked straight at her. “I don’t know. What are you going to tell him?
Hermione’s cheeks went red.
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