Chapter 3
Weeks had passed since the Ministry gala, and Hermione had been tirelessly working to push her charity initiatives forward. With the overwhelming generosity of donors—including one particularly large contribution from Draco and Astoria Malfoy—her campaign for house-elf rights had gained significant momentum.
To keep the donors informed, Hermione sent out formal letters detailing the progress. She outlined the recent breakthroughs—new policies being reviewed by the Wizengamot, an increase in wages for registered house-elves, and a growing public interest in ethical treatment.
She had just finished signing the last letter when she handed the stack to her assistant. “Make sure these are delivered by today,” she instructed with a smile.
The following morning, as Hermione sat in her office buried in reports, an enchanted memo fluttered through the air and landed neatly on her desk. The elegant parchment, sealed with the Malfoy International Potions Trade insignia, caught her attention immediately.
She unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the words written in Draco Malfoy’s distinct, neat handwriting.
Dear Granger,
I received your letter regarding the progress of your charity. It was a compelling update, and I must admit I find myself intrigued by the work you’re doing. I appreciate the transparency, as most organizations tend to be vague about where their funding actually goes.
If you’re available, I’d like to hear more about it in person. Perhaps over tea at your office? Let me know if that would be agreeable.
Best regards,
D.M
Hermione read the letter twice, her lips pressing together thoughtfully.
Draco Malfoy wanted to visit her office? For tea?
She wasn’t entirely sure why that detail stood out to her, but it did. He could have simply requested a report or asked for a summary through owl correspondence, but instead, he wanted to meet in person.
A part of her hesitated. It wasn’t because she found the idea unpleasant—far from it. Their past interactions had been… surprisingly effortless. But there was a part of her that recognized this was no longer just formal donor relations.
Still, she reached for a fresh piece of parchment and dipped her quill in ink, penning her response.
Dear Draco,
I appreciate your interest in the charity’s progress, and I’d be happy to discuss it further. My schedule is flexible tomorrow afternoon—would that work for you? We can have tea in my office at the Ministry.
Looking forward to our conversation.
Best regards,
Hermione Granger
She sealed the letter, watching as the enchanted owl she had summoned took flight out of her window.
As she leaned back in her chair, Hermione found herself wondering why she suddenly felt so nervous
The next afternoon, Hermione sat at her desk, going over the latest policy drafts regarding house-elf welfare when a sharp knock at her office door pulled her attention away.
“Come in,” she called, smoothing her blouse and sitting up a little straighter.
The door opened, and Draco stepped inside, looking every bit the powerful businessman he had become. His tailored charcoal-gray robes contrasted sharply against the warm tones of her office, and he carried himself with the same composed confidence he always did.
“Granger,” he greeted smoothly, closing the door behind him.
“Malfoy,” she replied with a small, polite smile. “Right on time.”
“I try,” he said, taking a glance around her office before his gaze settled on her. “Still organized as ever.”
Hermione chuckled. “I do my best to make it comfortable. It helps when I spend most of my days here.” She gestured toward the seating area near the window. “Shall we?”
Draco nodded and moved toward the chairs as Hermione poured them both tea from the enchanted teapot on the table. The smell of bergamot and honey filled the air as she handed him a cup.
“So,” he said, settling into his chair, “tell me more about the progress of your work. The letter you sent was thorough, but I imagine there’s more to it than what was on parchment.”
Hermione exhaled, pleased by his genuine interest. “There is,” she admitted. “With the donations we received, we’ve been able to fund several projects. The biggest breakthrough is that the Wizengamot is officially considering a proposal to grant house-elves the option of contractual work—meaning they’d have the choice to work for wages rather than being bound by traditional servitude.”
Draco tilted his head, considering her words. “That’s a bold move. I imagine it’s getting some pushback.”
“Plenty,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Old families don’t like change, but that’s nothing new.” She met his gaze pointedly.
Draco smirked slightly. “Fair enough.” He took a sip of his tea. “But I assume not everyone is against it?”
“No,” she agreed, “and that’s why this moment is so crucial. The fact that we have enough support to even get the Wizengamot to discuss it is a win. Now, it’s just about pushing it forward.”
Draco considered her words, then nodded. “It’s impressive, Granger. And well handled.”
She arched a brow. “Was that a compliment, Malfoy?”
He smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Hermione chuckled before taking a sip of her tea. For a moment, they sat in companionable silence, the atmosphere between them oddly comfortable despite their history.
After a moment, Draco leaned back slightly and set his cup down. “Speaking of all this charity work… Astoria wanted me to extend an invitation.”
Hermione blinked, surprised. “An invitation?”
Draco nodded. “She’d like to have you over for lunch at Malfoy Manor whenever you’re free.”
Hermione stared at him for a second, trying to decipher his expression. “Astoria wants to have lunch… with me?”
He smirked. “You sound skeptical.”
“I am,” she admitted. “We’ve never exactly… spoken much.”
“She’s curious about you,” Draco said simply. “She knows you’re the driving force behind the reforms, and she respects what you’re doing. Besides, she thinks it’s only polite since we’re in contact now.”
Hermione hesitated. Lunch at Malfoy Manor? That was something she had never imagined happening.
Draco seemed to read her reluctance and added, “She’s not like my parents, you know.”
Hermione met his gaze, searching for any sign of deception. But there was none.
After a moment, she nodded slowly. “Alright. Tell her I’d be happy to join her.”
Draco’s lips twitched, as if he were pleased with her answer. “I’ll let her know.”
As they finished their tea, Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more complicated than she was ready to admit.
A few days later, Hermione found herself seated at a cozy corner table in The Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by familiar faces. Ginny and Harry had invited her out for lunch, and to her mild surprise, Ron and his girlfriend, Olivia, had joined as well.
It had been years since the tension between her and Ron had fully settled, and now, things between them were easy—comfortable, even. Olivia, a kind-hearted and witty had been a refreshing presence in Ron’s life, and Hermione truly had no ill feelings about their relationship.
As they enjoyed their meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly.
“So, how’s work?” Harry asked, glancing at Hermione as he took a sip of his butterbeer. “I heard the house-elf rights proposal is actually making waves in the Wizengamot.”
Hermione brightened. “It is. We’re finally gaining enough traction for an official hearing, though there’s still a long way to go.”
Ginny grinned. “That’s brilliant, Hermione. And with the kind of support you’ve been getting, I wouldn’t be surprised if it actually goes through.”
Ron, who was cutting into his steak and kidney pie, nodded. “Even Mum was talking about it the other day. Said she’d have never thought house-elf rights would be debated at the Ministry, let alone be taken seriously.”
“Well, that’s what change looks like,” Hermione said with a small smile.
Olivia leaned in curiously. “And your donors—have they been supportive beyond just the initial gala contributions?”
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no reason to dance around it. “Actually, yes. One of the biggest contributors has been Draco Malfoy and his wife, Astoria.”
Ron, who had just taken a bite, coughed in surprise, reaching for his drink. “Malfoy?” he managed after swallowing.
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “That’s… unexpected.”
Harry, though unsurprised, hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose it makes sense. He’s got the resources, and after everything, he probably wants to be on the right side of things now.”
Hermione nodded. “It’s not just about money either. He’s actually shown interest in the cause, asked about progress. And—” she hesitated slightly before adding, “Astoria invited me to lunch at Malfoy Manor.”
Silence fell over the table.
Ron blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “You’re going to Malfoy Manor?”
Even Harry looked mildly intrigued. “That’s… unexpected,” he echoed Ginny’s earlier sentiment.
Hermione sighed. “I know it sounds strange, but apparently, Astoria is curious about my work. She wants to meet properly.”
Ron still looked wary. “I don’t get it. Why would she want to have lunch with you? It’s not like you and Malfoy are suddenly best mates.”
“She’s being polite, Ron,” Hermione said, exasperated. “Besides, I agreed. There’s no harm in going.”
Olivia, ever the neutral and calm presence, smiled. “Maybe she genuinely respects the work you’re doing.”
“Or maybe it’s a trap,” Ron muttered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s not a trap, Ron.”
Ginny smirked. “I think it’s fascinating. Who would’ve thought, after all these years, you’d be having tea with a Malfoy?”
Hermione ignored the teasing tone and simply said, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Harry, who had been quiet for a moment, finally said, “Just… be careful, alright? Not because I think they’ll do anything, but because Malfoy has always been complicated. You don’t want to get caught up in something before you know what it is.”
Hermione met his gaze and gave a small nod. “I know.”
But as the conversation moved on, she couldn’t ignore the way her mind lingered on Harry’s words. Because, deep down, she already felt like she was caught up in something. She just wasn’t sure what yet.
Hermione stood before the grand iron gates of Malfoy Manor, clutching a small, wrapped gift in her hands. The estate was just as imposing as she remembered, its tall hedges and perfectly manicured lawns exuding an air of old-world aristocracy. But today, she wasn’t here as an opponent or an outsider—she was here as a guest.
A house-elf appeared to escort her inside, and as she walked through the grand entrance hall, she couldn’t help but feel a small shiver of apprehension. The last time she had been here was under much darker circumstances.
But today was different.
Astoria was waiting for her in the sunlit conservatory, a breathtaking room lined with enchanted glass walls that overlooked the vast gardens. She rose gracefully from her seat as Hermione entered, a warm smile gracing her delicate features.
“Hermione, welcome,” Astoria said softly.
“Thank you for having me,” Hermione replied, returning the smile. She hesitated before handing over the small package. “I, um, brought a little something for Scorpius.”
Astoria’s eyes lit up as she accepted the gift. “That’s very kind of you. He adores new toys—I’ll be sure to give it to him when he wakes up from his nap.”
Hermione smiled at that, feeling a little more at ease. “I hope he likes it.”
They took their seats at the elegantly set table, where a house-elf immediately poured them tea. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as delicate plates of food were placed before them.
As Hermione stirred her tea, she glanced around the conservatory, half-expecting to see a familiar blond figure. When she didn’t, curiosity got the best of her.
“I was expecting Draco to be here,” she admitted.
Astoria let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Ah, no. He’s at his office today. He’s been swamped with work at Malfoy International lately.”
Hermione nodded, not sure why she felt a small pang of disappointment at that. “Of course. I imagine running a global potions trade keeps him busy.”
“It does,” Astoria agreed. “But I thought it might be nice for just the two of us to have lunch. We’ve never really had the chance to talk.”
Hermione took a sip of her tea, finding herself studying the woman across from her. Astoria was poised and elegant, but there was an undeniable warmth about her—one that made Hermione feel unexpectedly comfortable.
As they ate, the conversation drifted effortlessly. They spoke about Hermione’s work at the Ministry, Astoria’s passion for art and magical history, and, of course, Scorpius—who, according to his mother, was already showing an early love for books and storytelling.
“I think you’d like him,” Astoria said fondly. “He’s always asking questions, always curious about the world.”
Hermione smiled at that. “That sounds like a wonderful trait.”
As the lunch went on, Hermione felt her initial reservations slowly melt away. Astoria was kind. She was thoughtful and intelligent, with a quiet strength that Hermione found admirable.
And as she sat there, enjoying the conversation and the peacefulness of the conservatory, she couldn’t help but think to herself, I like her.
Which made everything else—the lingering tension with Draco, the strange awareness she felt around him—all the more complicated.
A few days later, Hermione was in her office, reviewing the latest proposal drafts, when a familiar knock sounded at her door. She glanced up, surprised—there was something distinct about the way Draco Malfoy knocked. Precise. Confident.
“Come in,” she called, setting her quill aside.
The door opened, and Draco stepped inside, dressed in sharp midnight-blue robes that screamed wealth and influence. His presence was as commanding as ever, but his expression was unusually casual.
“Malfoy,” Hermione greeted, arching a brow. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Business at the Ministry again?”
Draco smirked slightly as he closed the door behind him. “Something like that. Thought I’d stop by since I was already here.” He sat down across from her without waiting for an invitation, his sharp gaze scanning her desk. “You’re always drowning in paperwork, aren’t you?”
Hermione sighed dramatically. “It’s the price of making real change. I assume your business deals don’t run themselves, either?”
He gave a small shrug. “They do when you have the right people managing them.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips. “Must be nice.”
Draco leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “So… Astoria told me about the lunch you had together.”
Hermione hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Yes, she was kind enough to invite me.”
“She tends to be,” he said, his expression unreadable. “And?”
Hermione blinked. “And what?”
Draco gave her a pointed look. “What did you think of her?”
A small smile played on Hermione’s lips. “She’s lovely. Truly.” She exhaled, thinking back to the warmth Astoria had shown her. “She’s intelligent, kind, and easy to talk to. I can see why you married her.”
Draco didn’t respond right away. He simply watched her, his silver-gray eyes unreadable. Then, with a small smirk, he said, “That almost sounded like a compliment, Granger.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”
His gaze flickered with something unreadable before he looked away, glancing toward the parchment-covered desk. “She mentioned you brought a gift for Scorpius.”
Hermione nodded. “Just a small toy. She said he likes storytelling, so I thought a little enchanted storybook would be something he’d enjoy.”
Draco was quiet for a moment before he muttered, “He loves it.”
Something about the way he said it—low, almost grudging—made warmth spread in Hermione’s chest.
“I’m glad,” she said softly.
Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air between them shifted—something unspoken lingering between them.
But then Draco leaned back, breaking the moment. “Well, I suppose it’s good you two got along,” he said, his tone returning to its usual nonchalant drawl. “She was curious about you.”
Hermione smirked. “That much was obvious.”
Draco tilted his head. “And? Are you still suspicious of us Malfoys, or are we slowly growing on you?”
Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. “I think Astoria is wonderful.” Then, after a pause, she added, “And as for you… well, the jury’s still out.”
Draco smirked, clearly entertained. “Fair enough.”
A comfortable silence settled between them before Hermione finally sighed and gave him a knowing look. “You should probably get back to your ‘very important business’ before people start talking about how often you visit my office.”
Draco let out a quiet chuckle, standing up and adjusting the sleeves of his robe. “Wouldn’t want to damage your pristine reputation, would we?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Malfoy.”
He gave her one last lingering glance before turning toward the door. But just as he reached it, he paused.
“Lunch next time?” he asked casually, not quite looking back at her.
Hermione arched a brow. “Are you inviting me to lunch, Malfoy?”
He smirked. “Just a thought.”
And before she could respond, he was gone.
Hermione stared at the closed door for a long moment, her heart beating just a little too fast.
What in Merlin’s name was she getting herself into?