Chapter 3
Monday morning, as stressed as Hermione was about passing her first assignment - and her first bill - she needn’t have been. Of course, it would be easier to try telling a grindylow to play nicely than to have a relaxed Hermione. The hearing went swimmingly and the bill passed with an easy majority. Rolfson congratulated her straight after the hearing, and immediately wanted to know what was next on the agenda. Hermione knew what lay ahead in her afternoon, and the pace that she would keep. The lack of public celebration suited her just fine; Hermione had never craved the limelight and press. The private word from Rolfson had been enough for now.
She had never wanted to seek Malfoy out as soon as she got back to the department, but she found her legs carrying her all the way back towards his office. She needed to distract herself so that she could focus this afternoon - and to get some pointers for the new bill, she argued with herself. She was elated, sharp, and ready to play.
She rapped on Malfoy's door confidently. She waited expectantly for footsteps and the turning of the handle, but only silence found her. Oh no, do I leave or knock again? Her confidence plummeted and she quickly began second guessing her choice to be there. She turned to leave and as she did, she heard the clack of footsteps approaching a moment before she saw to whom they belonged.
Malfoy came striding around the corner, standing tall and yet relaxed with an easy look on his face. Hermione witnessed a split second of what he looked like when he didn't think anyone was watching, and it felt deeply personal. As soon as he laid eyes on her his posture snapped up straight and rigid and the emotionless mask was put back up. It almost felt to her like they now shared a secret.
“Granger, what a surprise. Didn't you say that I wouldn't be getting house calls often? Or are you starting to enjoy my company?” Hermione desperately wanted to wipe the self satisfied smirk off his face.
“Actually, Malfoy, I was looking to get a head start on the next bill since the one from this morning passed. Apparently you aren't up on the sort of pace Rolfson wants to keep, but he barely said “great work” before asking after the next thing on the agenda. Unfortunately, I'm not here on a social call, so sorry to get your hopes up,” Hermione finished with a fake frown.
Malfoy turned his body away as if to enter his office, but eying her he said, “Pity, and here I was wasting away in my loneliness hoping for some company. But if you insist, I suppose you can come in.” He turned his away and entered his office, leaving the door open for Hermione to follow.
Hermione entered and sat, but instead of rushing into business, she wanted to toy some more. Intuition told her that behind each of Malfoy’s remarks, there was an edge of truth begging to be exposed. After all, no matter how flawless his appearance was, he still couldn't do anything about the grey bags around his eyes. Those had been hard earned and wouldn't go away with a few good night's sleep.
“You don't seem surprised that the bill passed.”
“No, it was to be expected. I worked on it, after all,” Malfoy sounded bored.
“You don't sound pleased either,” Hermione retorted.
“Granger, the thing is, nobody is going to know how much I helped out on each law that passes. And if they do know that I had anything to do with it, do you think that will get a positive reaction? Do you think people are going to suddenly see me in a glowing light, forgiving everything that I've done? I wouldn't be surprised if people look at me with disgust for the rest of my life. So no, I don't see a point in celebrating the fact that I've made a small dent for the good of the wizarding world. It's not nearly big enough,” Malfoy looked away with his last remark and Hermione felt a small ache in her chest.
“Maybe you're right, but each step forward is a step in the right direction. You have to admit you are making a positive impact though, even if you still have the social appeal of a toad.”
Malfoy turned his head and stared at her wide eyed and incredulous for a moment before raising his eyebrows with a, “Remind me to never ask you for a compliment.”
“Don't tell me what to do,” she smiled sweetly. “Shall we get started?”
***
The days quickly turned into weeks that went by, and Hermione got a sense of routine back. She started going out on Fridays to the Leaky with Harry, Ginny, and Ron again, and really didn’t mind the times when Ron bailed and “got busy”. Every week at work was a different series of collaboration, though she mostly kept to the schedule of Malfoy on Mondays, the whole team on Tuesdays, and Theo and Pansy on Thursdays. She had really done her best with Pansy, but she was just too unprofessional - as time progressed, it had more often than not turned into just her and Blaise for an hour; only inviting Pansy when Hemione didn’t feel the strong urge to hex her into cooperation (or for the sheer joy of it). Thankfully, Blaise made up for her absence.
Malfoy, on the other hand, was living up to her coworker’s initial praise: he was clearly the smartest, hardest, and most detailed worker here other than Hermione. Slowly, she had learned that he and the others weren't given too much work and that it was always double checked upon submission; that they were kept on a tight leash and not to wander the halls, lest they cause “disturbances”. It seemed as though only the people assigned to work with him on the team valued him as an equal human - though she couldn’t say that for everyone - and everyone else either disregarded him or sneered his way. At one point Hermione has the intrusive thought, I guess he’s getting a taste of his own medicine after all these years, after seeing how a group of wizards reacted passing him in the hall, and immediately scolded herself for such a thought. Why would she wish cruelty upon anyone, even if it was well deserved?
It’s because she had grown, too. Malfoy didn’t seem cruel anymore. Full of taunting, teasing, sarcasm, and sly remarks, yes - but his words lacked the biting malice he used to spit out. He was alone in the world, she assumed, since she had no idea what happened to his mother after his father went to Azkaban for life. She could understand. Her parents were back from Australia, but barely: they remembered both lives, often got confused between the two, and too many memories of Hermione had vanished forever. Her heart ached deeply, but it was nothing compared to when her parents had forgotten who she was entirely.
She couldn’t help but think that Malfoy had been entirely forgotten, too, apart from the team they worked with. Who was he outside of these walls anymore? She was always on the edge of pity for him, but refused to pity a man who was trying to make something of his mess of a life. There was nothing enviable about him anymore... money, name, reputation... but there was something alluring. Hermione was always intrigued and awaited their times together, knowing she would leave feeling energized and ready for a full week ahead. On Mondays she even started waking up before her alarm naturally, buzzing with the prospect of being intellectually stimulated first thing when she got in. His pale appearance and bright blue eyes had become a source of grounding and familiarity for Hermione, and she would often make the trek to his office if only to get his input for 2 minutes before rushing off and diving back into her work, freshly inspired.
For the first time in her life, Hermione respected Draco Malfoy. Maybe she even liked him... well, yeah, she liked him. THIS version of him; the one who joked harmlessly and was studious and well mannered. She could hardly compare this Malfoy with the one she knew from 4 years ago. She had warmed to him, and was only getting warmer.
***
October had blown in and settled frosty lips on anyone who dared show bare skin. It was Hermione’s favorite season, because it was the perfect season to bundle up in soft clothing once more and admire the orange and yellow hues that surrounded her while she sat on a park bench with a good book - and a warming charm, of course. They never seemed to work well enough to read for very long in the winter time, no matter how hard she had tried to focus on improving her spellwork. It frustrated her to no end.
Hermione had built up confidence at work, and was on a roll now. It was all work and no celebrations, as much as Harry and Ginny had tried to do otherwise for her. She told them the bare minimum when it came to work, even if they were constantly asking her if she had a hand in whatever new law had just passed. Even after three months, she still hadn’t said a word about Malfoy, Blaise, or Pansy. Now that she was on friendly terms with Malfoy, she really didn’t want “big brother” Harry or, Merlin forbid, Ron to come to her defense. There was no part of her that felt ready to convince them he had changed.
Hermione awoke to the second Monday in October being a sunny, crisp, and cheerful one. As ever, she was looking forward to the work week after spending some quality time cuddling Crookshanks. She was in the middle of a new bill, and was adamant on combing through every detail she could get from Malfoy, and eager to implement his input. She did not, however, expect to get personal with him.
“It’s almost lunch, so what do you say we wrap up for now?” Hermione asked.
“That’s fine, but I have something to ask of you,” Malfoy stated nonchalantly.
A quizzical Hermione looked at him and asked, “Um, sure, what is it?”
“I am going to be having a Halloween masquerade ball, and was wondering if you would be interested in attending?” He could see Hermione’s face swimming with thoughts and quickly added, “Everyone is invited. Here, at the Ministry, as well as others. It will be at the Manor - but believe me, you won’t recognize it” Hermione’s eyes widened and then narrowed at the mention of Malfoy Manor, but they had built up trust within their relationship and she decided to go out on a limb.
“That’s... interesting, Malfoy. How many people do you think will attend?” She was still highly skeptical.
“I have confirmed about 70 or so, but mind you, I only sent out the invites last Friday. I was hoping this could be my grand entrance back into the wizarding world, and to show a new side of what “Malfoy” can be,” he explained calmly.
“Well, in that case, I think it’s a wonderful idea and I accept. But really, I hope you mean it when you say I won’t recognize it.”
Malfoy smiled a sly grin. “You won’t.”
Hermione and Malfoy parted for the day, and she was left wondering what she should wear. Her mom had helped her pick out her Yule ball dress, but she certainly wouldn’t understand this event now. That left Ginny... but then she would need to divulge everything to her. She trusted Ginny, but could she keep a secret like this? Why on earth was she keeping it a secret? Sometimes she felt like it was pointless, but then she remembered: the boys. She would need to mull this one over. Hopefully Crookshanks would help.
***
Crookshanks told her to owl Ginny and threaten her with the Unbreakable Vow if need be. It was a little extreme, but if Hermione was still serious about keeping all this Malfoy nonsense away from Harry and Ron, she needed to put on a serious front.
Wednesday night, Ginny and Hermione were having a “girl’s night”, whereby Hermione had enticed Ginny with French merlot she had been saving and a promise of “needing to get something off my chest, but without the boys knowing, if you get what I mean”. Ginny only replied with “When?”, and Hermione owled her back Wednesday at 6 pm. She put on a hearty squash soup to slowly cook before she left for work, so that she would only need some crusty bread to have a cozy evening with her friend. She was glad Ginny was up for spontaneity, and hoped she was up for shock and awe too.
Hermione had barely picked up the bottle to pour their after supper wine when Ginny blurted out, “So what exactly are you wanting to secretly tell me, Hermione?” Ginny was beaming and wiggling in her chair.
Hermione let out a long sigh as she finished pouring her glass. She had brought her along this far... no going back.
“I need your help, Gin. I only need your help with one thing, and that’s picking out a dress. I’m going to Malfoy’s Halloween ball and I’m clueless as to what to wear.”
Ginny’s eyes got big as she gasped, “No, what? What - explain all this, Hermione. Because did you say Malfoy?”
“Yes, Malfoy invited me to his ball -”
“What do you mean HE invited you? Personally?”
“Ah, yeah, he did... Monday, actually, right before lunch.”
Ginny’s mouth was agape and she was dumbstruck. She fiddled with trying to make words come out, but it just wasn’t happening.
“Gin, Malfoy and I have been working together ever since I moved departments. We work rather closely now, actually, and it’s not as awful as you think. He’s changed, and it’s why I accepted,” Hermione was playing anxiously with a strand of hair, wondering what would come out of the witch’s mouth next.
“He - you - you work closely together? In Magical Law? Are you serious, Hermione? Are you under the Imperio curse? Even a Confundus charm? Because -”
“I’m not, Ginny, and I thought it was a massive oversight at first, too. But I swear to you, he hasn’t been mean to me once. Well, not cruel, let’s say. And I haven’t heard him talk cruelly about anyone else, either. He’s definitely not the same person we knew in school. I don’t know what to say... I guess... we’re friendly, even,” she glanced up at Ginny, still listening and wide eyed, “I value the efforts he puts in at work. That’s more than I can say about Blaise and Pansy. Ugh, especially Pansy,” Hermione rolled her eyes at the mention.
Ginny, looking like she was about to burst, almost shouted, “Pansy Parkinson? Blaise Zabini? Oh my Gods, what is even going on?” Ginny was aghast.
“Again, Gin, there’s a lot you don’t know about. I’m really not sure if it’s my place to explain it.”
“You’d better start explaining more about Malfoy then.”
“Um, like what? Not much, really. Like I said, he’s changed, he’s not horrible, he jokes a lot but is very serious when it comes to work, and he’s actually really smart. I never noticed that in school, though...” she trailed off, starting to get lost in the overwhelm of her thoughts and the whole idea of the ball. “But anyway, Ginny, please, will you help me? I’ve already said yes but I have no clue what a high class masquerade ball even entails.”
“A masquerade ball? Oh, Hermione, of course it is.”
“Of course it is, what?”
“It means that you wear Glamour and a mask, of course.”
“Wait, like a Glamour charm? What do you mean?” Hermione was intensely curious and simultaneously anxious at the thought of something unknown.
“Yes, a charm! But it’s not one to improve how others see you, it’s one to alter how others see you - hence the whole masquerade thing, right? It’s meant to be anonymous.”
It was Hermione’s time to sit in surprise. How did she not know this? Sometimes she wished she had grown up in the wizarding world so these things came as second nature to her, and she wasn’t so caught off guard about things like this. She gulped down her wine as her mind raced to rewrite how she envisioned the ball would go. She wouldn’t know anyone, and no one would know her. It sounded dangerous... but appealing. It also sounded inherently Dark, and within the setting of Malfoy Manor, she suddenly wondered if she could trust this event - and its host - at all.
“Can you tell me more about these sorts of masquerade balls, Gin?”
“Um, well, I can’t say much since Mum and Dad never went to any, and even what they’ve told me might not be correct. I just know that it was typically only rich purebloods who threw them and invited all their snobby friends and allies. Still, that was in the past, so I have no idea what Malfoy is thinking doing all of this.”
“He said he was inviting everyone, whether they worked in the Ministry or not,” she frowned at Ginny, “but I guess you haven’t gotten your invite. I know, you must be feeling so envious right now, hm?” she teased.
“Oh yeah, very funny. I’m not sure “envious” is the right word though.”
“Ginny, you could always come with me! It’s a Glamour ball, so who would recognize you?” Hermione raised her hopes only for a moment.
“No thanks, I think I’ll stay at home, waiting for you when you need rescuing. If you won’t let Harry in, then someone’s gotta do it,” she winked at Hermione playfully. For a brief moment Hermione reconsidered this whole notion of attending, but was she still a Gryffindor, or wasn’t she?
“I’m half surprised you haven’t tried talking me out of this yet, but then again we both know that would be pointless,” she gave Ginny a smile. “But seriously, if I’m going to go at all, I definitely need your help now. Are there books on these sorts of things?”
Ginny laughed, and replied, “I have no idea. Besides, if Malfoy is so “changed”, then I don’t know if those books would do you much good anyway. I think you’ve just got to wing it, Hermione. And yes, of course I will help you. I just can’t believe you’ve been keeping this secret for so long. I guess it explains why you’re always so vague about your work when we ask.”
Hermione gave an apologetic look and squeezed Ginny’s hand. She was glad to have confided in Ginny and not look like a fool showing up in Merlin-knows-what without a Glamour on. She was going to throw herself to the wolves with this one, but hey, at least she felt like life was worth living again.