Word Count: 2820
Trigger Warning: Kidnapping
Lucius was not a happy god. It wasn't easy, being the god of beauty! He should know, seeing how his slender frame and aquiline features had gotten him mistaken as a woman for years. Mortals had given him names like "Venus" and "Aphrodite" for as long as he could remember, but, well, at least they'd named a planet after him.
But that's off subject, he reminded himself sternly. There was some paltry girl on Earth that was getting entirely too much attention for his liking. People were starting to say that she was Venus reincarnated which was absurd. Gods don't die. How dare they compare her beauty to his? Honestly, you disappear for a few hundred years and people forget that no one is as beautiful as you. No one.
In true Olympus fashion, Lucius had a plan to rectify the situation. "Eros," he called, and after a moment, his son strolled into the room.
"It's Draco now," Eros reminded him, frowning petulantly. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"At least once more," Lucius replied. "Anyway, I need you to do something for me. There's a mortal girl on earth that people are treating like, well, me. Like me, Draco!"
Eros rolled his eyes. "I suppose you want me to make her fall in love with some dumb mortal."
"Yes!" Lucius huffed. He brushed a long golden lock behind his ear. "I'm so glad I raised you well enough to truly understand me."
"Your punishments are always the same," Eros pointed out. "But okay. What's her name?"
"Hermione Granger," Lucius replied. He wrinkled his nose, thinking of her. "I don't know what they see in her, honestly."
"I suppose you have the other victim selected?" Eros said, examining his nails.
"Her fool of a friend, who's already mostly in love with her. Some poor redhead...ah, Weasley! Ronald, or something foolish like that." In fact, Lucius knew exactly what Ronald Weasley's name was. He just found the boy so off-putting that he was making every effort to forget him. Besides the occasional evil cackle when he recalled that he was forcing two people to fall in love. It was good to be the father of the god of love...ah.
"Very well," Eros sighed. He spread his wings and spun on the spot, vanishing with a soft pop.
Draco, not Eros, thank you very much, flew to a small flat in London. It was after dark, so any mortals who looked up wouldn't see anything. Still, he looked down, watching carefully. It wouldn't do for someone to see him and (the horror) worship him.
He landed on the awning of an open window. He peered inside, and—ah, yes. There she was, fast asleep on top of her covers, a pair of glasses still perched on her nose. Papers were strewn around her, but at least her clothing looked comfortable.
He hopped inside, landing lightly and pulling out his bow and arrow. He would shoot her and then grab the Weasley boy, bring him here, and bang! Instant love.
Sometimes, Draco's job was so rewarding.
It was less rewarding, of course, when he got drawn as a baby in a diaper with pink heart-shaped arrows. Bloody pink. He wasn't a child, thank you.
He approached the bed slowly, carefully pulling a (not heart-shaped) arrow out of his quiver, and moved to notch it in the bow, when—
Hermione sat up, a slender stick pointed directly at him. "Who are you?" she demanded
Unfortunately, Draco was so startled, that the arrow he was holding slipped and cut his leg—oh, no, Zeus, no—he was in love. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was only supposed to make other people fall in love.
A jet of red light flew out of the slender stick, and he reacted on instinct, darting slightly to the left. His mouth was ajar, though, because he'd never seen someone so beautiful. She should be treated the way people treated his father. Maybe she should be the new goddess of beauty. People would be able to call her Venus or Aphrodite and it wouldn't be offensive—
Another jet of light was coming at him, and he groaned, spinning on the spot and disappearing.
How could this happen?
He can't tell his dad.
Hermione Granger did not like to be woken up, even if she shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place. Further, she didn't like to be woken up by strange men in her room! True enough, he hadn't done anything but the fact remained that he'd woken her up, and made it near impossible to fall back asleep. How in the world had he gotten past her wards?
It upset her so much that she hadn't been able to focus all day, which is why she only caught half of what Mrs. Weasley was saying over dinner. "—any luck, Hermione dear?"
"Sorry?" she asked, jerking up from poking at her potatoes.
Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice.
"I was wondering, given the recent article published about you in Witch Weekly, if you'd had any more luck with young men, lately?" Mrs. Weasley asked patiently.
Ron looked slightly miffed, but he just continued to eat. He was well aware that he and Hermione wouldn't be dating again.
Hermione was more than a little miffed, however. "That piece of tripe they published about me has only caused me problems," she replied. Perhaps the article, claiming that Hermione was "Wizarding London's Modern Day Venus" and the "Most Eligible Bachelorette."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Suddenly wizards everywhere are getting the courage to ask her out. Really slowed her down at work."
"It did," Hermione snapped, decidedly displeased with Harry's teasing. "I don't want to date someone who only manages get up the courage when I'm famous."
"Hermione, you've been famous since you were, like, 11," Ron pointed out. "By proxy of the Boy Who Lived."
"Doesn't matter," Hermione said, waving a hand. "I don't have any one interested in me."
"Well," Mrs. Weasley said primly. "We have some cousins coming in over the weekend, and they—"
Hermione groaned and covered her face with her palm. "Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I can't."
"Call me Molly, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "And I don't see why not—"
"I have a date," Hermione said. "I lied. I met someone just last night who didn't have a clue who I was. He's not from London." The man from last night had looked Grecian...
Mrs. Weasley blinked, obviously stunned. Ron and Harry were both gaping at her, too. "Why would you lie?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"I just didn't want to get your hopes up," Hermione said, cutting into her roast beef. "In case things didn't work out."
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Well, that's wonderful."
"Yes," Hermione said, a strained smile on her face. "It is."
Draco had been spying on her. What was the point of being a god if he didn't use his powers, anyway? So he knew for a fact that she was either lying to Mrs. Weasley or she was open to a date with him.
He was in love. He was a god. The god of love, in fact. There was no way she could resist...right?
So when she left the Weasleys, it was easy enough to transport her somewhere moreto his style.
"Merlin's pants!" she shouted when they arrived at the forest. "What in the world?" She spun around, that slender stick out again.
He appeared in front of her. "Hello."
Hermione (what a beautiful name) didn't even hesitate to throw a jet of light at him. And it hurt.
"Ow, Zeus, wait—" he held up his hand and stared as it rippled in front of him. He grimaced. "You're a witch aren't you?" How had he missed that?
"Of course I bloody am, what do you expect—you're a wizard aren't you—oh, Merlin...you're..."
He saw the information clicking in her brain, and he smiled at her. "Oh, brilliant, you're intelligent."
She scowled at him. "Of course I am. Who are you?"
"I'm..." he stopped. "Draco."
She looked confused. "But that's not—okay. So, what do you want?"
He beamed at her. "Join me. For dinner!"
"I don't go on dates with kidnappers," she informed him. "So I'll be leaving now." She spun on her heel, but when she turned back to face him, she looked very disturbed. "We're not in London any more, are we," she said, and it wasn't a question.
"Of course not," he said. "Welcome to Olympus."
"Merlin," she said again, but she moved closer. "So how do i convince you to let me leave?"
He thought about telling her that it would be impossible to do that, but instead he shrugged. "Just dinner, for now. Come on, it will get Mrs. Weasley off your back."
She looked outraged. "Just how long have you been watching me?" she demanded.
"Since I snuck into your room last night," he said candidly. Honesty was the best policy.
"Why did you sneak into my room last night?"
"My father asked me too. He was jealous of you," he said, and he offered her an arm.
"Apparently people were beginning to worship you," he replied. He moved his arm a little, trying to get her to grab it.
"No," she said.
He huffed. "Fine. Follow me."
They dined in a small gazebo surrounded by trees. Hermione was a little wary of taking the food from someone she was fairly certain was a god, considering the fate of Persephone. But eventually she ate because she figured she was stuck here any way, and she always thought better when she's full.
The food was delightful, and the company was, kidnapping aside, surprisingly okay. Draco made her laugh, and to be honest, he was good looking.
But the kidnapping was still a thing, so when they finished dinner, she very clearly said, "This was very nice, but I'd like to go home now."
Draco pouted. "But we've had so much fun."
"But you kidnapped me. So, I would like to leave now."
Draco opened his mouth to respond when a very tall and beautiful—was that a man or a woman?—appeared. "Eros, I thought I told you to deal with her, not bring her here!"
"Eros?" Hermione repeated, stunned. "What—"
Draco waved a hand at her. "It's Draco, father. And I am dealing with her!"
"Dealing with me?" she repeated.
"Not what I meant at all," Draco—Eros?—said quickly. "I like you. I brought you here because I like you—"
"You like her?" the man demanded. "Eros, I gave you explicit instructions to make her fall in love with the Weasley boy."
"Are you Aphrodite?" Hermione demanded. "And what do you mean you were supposed to make me fall in love with Ron? That wouldn't work in the long run."
The man sniffed. "My name is Lucius," he informed her. "But yes, I suppose that's the closest mortal comparison. Anyway, just one of Eros' arrows," Lucius paused to chuckle, then, apparently quite amused by the word play, and then continued. "Would make you fall in love forever."
"Bloody hell," Hermione said.
Draco frowned at her. "Hades keeps the place quite blood free, thank you."
She snorted, and threw her hands up. "How did this happen?" she bemoaned.
"Yes," Lucius said, scowling. Somehow the expression didn't reduce his beauty. "How did this happen?"
Draco looked embarrassed. "She's beautiful, father," he muttered uselessly.
Hermione started to preen, and then remembered that that wasn't actually an acceptable reason to kidnap someone. "I want to go home," she said, sighing. "Can you please take me home?"
Draco looked sad, and for a moment, Hermione felt a little sad. "Okay," he said and offered a hand.
She accepted his hand, intending just to shake it, but instead he pulled her close and kissed her lips, just once.
Startled, she shut her eyes. When she opened them, she was home. Alone.
"How did your date go?" Harry asked the next day over lunch.
Hermione was quite aware that she looked wrecked, and honestly, she couldn't bring herself to care. Greek gods seemed to have a special ability to keep her up at night. "It went well," she said, fiddling with her napkin. "Sort of."
"I was surprised when you told me you went right after dinner," he admitted. He took a bite out of a chip. "I suppose you were extra hungry."
"Surprisingly," she agreed. Getting kidnapped takes a lot out of a person, she considered adding, but decided against it. Harry had enough to worry about—and no, that was a lie. He didn't worry about much these days. But she didn't want to tell him because, doubtlessly, he'd tell Ron, and the two of them would lead a manhunt—or would that be godhunt?
"Not a beast then?" he asked. "Would you see him again?"
"Merely to get Mrs. Weasley off my back," Hermione agreed.
Harry snorted, and said, "You mean Molly."
"No, I don't—" Hermione abruptly stopped, because ink was appearing on her napkin.
"Merlin," she muttered. "You never stop, do you?"
"What are you saying, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Don't worry about it, Harry." Quieter, she added, "I suppose if you didn't kidnap me a second time."
"What are you on about?" Harry asked. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," she said to Harry. "Tonight," she mumbled.
Hermione opened her door to reveal the Greek god of love, and this time, at least, she wasn't surprised. "Hello," she said. "Would you like to come in?"
"Please," he said, smiling.
"No wings?" she asked as he brushed by her.
"How does that work?" she questioned. "You just suck them into your back?"
He smiled slightly. "Essentially."
"Brilliant," she said, and unable to help herself, she brushed a hand over his back. And then blushed deeply. "Oh, sorry."
"It's all right," he answered. "So, where are we going?"
"No where. We went to your home, now we're at mine." She paused, frowning. "Again. And I intend to get an explanation out of you, this time."
He sighed. "Very well. Are you going to feed me?"
"Right this way," she said, leading him to the kitchen. "I hope you like fish and chips. I'm awful at making anything else."
"Sounds great," Draco said, though he looked lost.
"It is," she agreed, and served him a plate. "I expect an explanation really soon, actually."
"Can it wait?" he asked.
"You kidnapped me," she said. "You'll explain now." She dipped a chip into vinegar.
He watched her with a rapt expression that was a mixture of disgust and wonder. "Dad said people were starting to worship you for your beauty," he began. Cautiously he tried a bite of a chip and only grimace a little. "Not bad."
She nodded primly. "That article," she muttered. "That stupid article."
"What's wrong with being known as beautiful?" he asked. "Dad would be wounded."
"That's just the least interesting thing about me," she said, sighing. "Never mind that I've practically rewritten the laws regarding mythical creatures in the six years I've been a ministry official."
Draco's eyebrows lifted in surprised. "So you're the girl Artemis is so keen on."
"Artemis?" she repeated numbly.
"Yeah," he said. "But Dad loathes you. Can't stand any one being prettier than him."
"I don't think I am, to be honest," she said, tugging on a strand of hair.
"But you are," he argued quickly.
"Stop distracting and explain," she said, pointing a chip at him.
He huffed. "Fine. Dad wanted to make you fall in love with Ron Weasley, who he finds to be the most disgusting mortal of all time, apparently—"
"He's not that bad," Hermione interjected. "But I don't want to be in love with him."
"Of course not," he soothed. "But just when I was about to shoot you I scratched myself and fell...in love..."
Which, okay. That wasn't exactly expected. "You're in love with me," she clarified.
"Yes," he agreed.
"So you kidnapped me."
"Not my brightest moment," he admitted.
"No. Can you fall...out of love?"
"Of course not," he said, sounding ultimately offended. "My magic is completely pure."
Hermione sighed. "Fine," she said, shrugging. "So what, we date now?"
Draco frowned. "Is that what mortals are doing nowadays?"
She punched him. "Yes, that's what 'mortals' are doing nowadays. How old are you?"
"Gods don't count years," he said, frowning. "So how do you even date?"
"Merlin," she said, groaning. "Fine. We'll date. Dinner. Movies. Walks in the park and, I don't know, iceskating."
"Sure," he said, beaming. Being in love was so nice. Obviously he'd been doing everyone favors all these years, no matter what anyone thought. "Just one question, though."
"What's that?" she asked.
"What's a movie?"
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: Soooo in preparation for Valentine's Day, I'm doing 14 prompts. Link is on my profile. Dramione isn't actually a pairing I've written before, and I would have liked to make this more in depth, and more like Draco, but, eh, I figure he's a besotted god in this case, so it works out...Anyway I wanted to post it today, so! Enjoy.