Chapter 2
Draco stepped from the Floo into the foyer of Nott Manor. The estate had passed to Theo after his father’s death, and he’d done considerable renovations to the place.
“Draco, love, good to see you! What did you bring for us to drink tonight?” Pansy Parkinson greeted him from the drawing room.
“Something better than that ‘Red Blend’ swill you tried to pass off on us last month. I couldn’t let Zabini endure something so substandard as that.” Draco drawled.
“Thank Salazar for that.” Blaise shuddered, and slung his arm over Draco’s shoulders. “Theo told me about it. I’m not sorry I missed it.”
“How was Italy? Any witches fall for your charms?” Crossing to the bar, Draco summoned four glasses and opened a lovely 1982 Chateau Mouton Rothschild Bordeaux so it could breathe.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” Blaise winked at Draco, but quickly glanced at Pansy. “Five months is a long time to be away from you all and our Snake Den nights.”
Their monthly meeting of friends was a highlight in Draco’s life. He could relax and be himself around people who truly knew him. “Agreed. Let’s stick closer to home for a few, then, shall we?”
Filling the glasses, Draco handed one to Pansy. “And how is the loveliest witch faring? All good in the fashion and interior design worlds?”
Pansy thanked him and sighed, “Yes, all is well. A bit boring right now, since Paris fashion week isn’t until September. Business is slow. But I putter around with things here for Theo.”
“And what a difference you’ve made,” Theo said, accepting his own glass from Draco. “The dreariness is almost gone from the manor. I’m proud to say I’m a complete disappointment to my father.”
“Hear, hear,” Draco saluted him. “I’ll drink to being the shameful end of a family line.”
Laughter rang through the room as they all sipped their wine. All four Slytherins had renounced any ties to pureblood prejudices long ago, much to the chagrin of those who still believed in the Sacred Twenty Eight ideologies.
“Surely you don’t mean to completely end the Malfoy line though, do you Draco? We’re still young enough that marriage and children could happen for us.” Pansy spoke to Draco, but kept her eyes on Blaise.
“Who has time for all of that? Between work and you lot, I couldn’t properly court a woman. We all know how the last time I attempted it ended.” Draco chuckled darkly. “With howlers.”
“She was too blonde for you anyway. Too matchy-matchy with your own luscious locks.” Theo teased him. “Draco needs a brunette, wouldn’t you say Pans?”
“Definitely. Spice up that gene pool the Malfoys have been so proud of.” She grinned over at him.
Draco didn’t understand why Granger’s hair suddenly came to mind. Must have been the lack of sleep he’d had the night prior, and spending several hours with her after not having spoken to her in nearly 10 years. That must be it. Nothing more than tiredness. Draco thought.
“Well it doesn’t matter what color hair a witch has, I’ve told you I don’t have the time. A new case showed up last night, and I have a feeling it’s going to be taking all of my energy for the foreseeable future.”
Theo looked over to Draco. “Let me know if you need anything from the Archives. Is the case going to take you away from the Quidditch match in two weeks?”
“No idea. I certainly hope not, but we’ll have to wait and see. But I most likely will need your help in the Archives. I’ll send you a memo Monday with any requests I have.” Draco would be diving head first into the runes and brands found on the body, and trying to make sense of their meanings. For now though, he just wanted to spend an evening with his friends.
“Bloody, infuriating, completely maddening wanker!” Hermione was really on a tirade. As she spoke, she flailed her arms wide and paced furiously. “Five times he’s sent this proposal back! I know for a fact there is enough evidence, and more than enough citations for the record, but the damn man is determined to block this bill! On what grounds? Hector has no real leg to stand on for not supporting this legislation, so he’s making up excuses to not send it up! The man has it out for me because he thinks I’m coming for his job.” As Junior Undersecretary for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione had submitted many new drafts for legislation that would only improve the lives of marginalized communities within Wizarding Britain.
“I know how to write a bloody proposal bill! The Wolfsbane access for all Werewolves, the sanctuary for the giants, the safety standards for dragon handlers–all of these bills have passed without a problem. Not to mention the House Elves act! I know I couldn’t free them all at once, but their lives are better now with the resources we’ve provided for free elves. It’s the least I could get done. Again, it was submitted and passed without issue!”
“Well, have you thought of it? Of going after his job?” Neville Longbottom sat in a chair in front of Hermione’s desk, watching as she paced.
He’d wisely kept his mouth shut until she finished ranting about the whole corrupt system she was a part of, picking his moment with care.
Hermione stopped in her tracks. Her thoughts latched onto Neville’s question with ferocity and wouldn’t move past it. Could she see herself as Senior Undersecretary? She’d obviously be able to make greater changes with more influence if she were promoted. She could make direct improvements in the lives of the creatures and beings she cared so much about.
“I’m only twenty-eight, which is younger than every other Senior Undersecretary by half! These old men with their outdated views on women in power wouldn’t stand for it.” Complete bollocks if you asked Hermione, which no one was.
“I think it’s time, Hermione. I think our generation has reached the point of needing to stand up and start implementing the changes we fought so hard for as children.” Neville usually didn’t bring up the war, or his role in it, so for him to make a statement like that hit Hermione hard.
Perhaps it was time. Perhaps Hermione had enough experience and legislation under her belt to finally make the move towards promotion. She could feel herself becoming more confident by the moment.
“Yes. I think you’re right Neville. After this bill for the proper handling of nifflers is passed, I’ll do it. I’ll submit myself for a promotion.”
Neville gave her a proud smile and walked out of her office. Hermione took a look at the papers stacked neatly on her desk. She had several proposals in different states of completion. In addition to the nifflers, she had the centaurs, and a half-done policy on the breeding of Pygmy Puffs. It was a lot of work, but she reveled in it.
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of someone new. To her surprise, Theo Nott stood in the doorway.
“Granger, I have those texts on creature breeding laws you asked for. It took me a while, but I think I finally found some that are relevant to your Puff project.” Theo said with a smile.
Hermione genuinely liked Theo. He spoke kindly and had a smile ready for everyone.
“Thank you, Theo, you’ve been a big help. While I have you here though, could I request anything you have on centaurs? Fantastic Beasts barely mentions them, and all my previous knowledge has come from dealing with the herd in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.”
Bowstrings pulled tight. Stamping of hooves. Umbridge screaming as she was borne away. Fearing that she and Harry were next as Ronan and Magorian argued.
“....think of any other–Granger, are you ok?” Theo stepped around to Hermione’s side of her desk and knelt down next to her. “Where did you just go?”
Hermione shook her head to clear the past away and focused on Theo once more. “My apologies, Theo. Do you mind repeating that?”
“I only said that I couldn’t think of any other texts that are more in depth than Fantastic Beasts. But I’ll run another search in the Archives and see what I can find. Do you fancy a cuppa?”
“I’d love one. Walk with me to the break room?” Hermione responded as she stood.
The two walked in companionable silence towards the small kitchen situated between offices. As Theo used his wand to boil the kettle, he turned to Hermione with an open expression.
“Are you really ok? Back there you went pale, and you were staring off at the wall. I’ve always got a listening ear.”
Pulling two teacups from the cabinet, Hermione shook off his offer. “I got lost in memories for a moment. Nothing serious. But I appreciate your concern. Cream or sugar?”
“Neither, thank you.” Theo poured the hot water into their cups. “I better get back. If you change your mind about talking, you know where to find me.” He threw her a small smile and walked back to the archives.
Hermione stirred the sugar into her tea as she centered herself again. She glanced at the clock, choking on her scalding sip of tea when she realized what time it was. She rushed back to her office, slung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the lifts herself.
She waited for Harry in the atrium like she did every Friday. She couldn’t wait to tell him and Ginny about what she’d decided.
“Sorry, Hermione, got caught in the lift with McLaggen. You know how he can carry on. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.” Harry said with a grimace.
“Not a problem, Harry. Ready for dinner?”
“I’m absolutely starved. I think I could eat almost as much as Ron at the moment.” They both chuckled at that.
When they arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place in a swirl of ashes and Floo powder, Ginny was waiting with wine already poured. She hugged Hermione, and smacked Harry’s lips with a loud kiss.
“Gods, I missed you today. I have news to share with you both!” Ginny told them as they hung their cloaks up and headed into the kitchen.
“You’ll never believe which team they’re saying we’ll be facing in the playoffs. Ugh, Ron is going to be such an insufferable git! He’ll say he’s rooting for me and the Harpies, but you know he’ll actually be rooting for the bloody Chudley Cannons!” Ginny was never one to shy away from honesty when it came to her brother. When it came to anyone, really. Hermione could always count on her friend’s frankness.
“Well, you have my support. No matter what Ron does, Hermione and I will be there for you, right?” Harry threw Hermione a quick look, gauging her reaction.
“Of course we will! Do you have my ticket already?” Hermione went to every game in support of her friend.
“It’ll be at the ticket booth. Should I leave two, just in case?” Ginny winked over Harry’s shoulder.
“Nope, just the one per usual.”
Both of her friends glanced at each other across the dining table, sharing one of those silent husband/wife conversations. Hermione started putting food onto her plate to avoid looking at them. “Neville and I had a talk after Hector kicked my proposal back again. I think I’m going to put myself up for promotion to Senior Undersecretary once this bill goes through.”
“Hermione! That’s wonderful! You’ll get it for sure.” Harry said confidently.
“It’s about damn time. You should have done this years ago, to be honest. You’ll make a wonderful leader, and it’s the next step to being Minister one day.” Ginny leaned back in her chair and lifted her glass of wine towards Hermione.
“You both really think so? You think I have enough experience?”
“Absolutely. If Percy can make Junior Assistant to the Minister himself after just two years, you have more than enough experience to become Senior Undersecretary. Not only have you done so much for the house elves and werewolves, you’ve also got the business with the centaurs. Thanks for your help with that by the way.” Harry nodded at her.
“Oh. Right. Of course. I have Theo looking into more texts for me already.” Hermione said before taking a bite of chicken.
“Theo Nott? Why would you involve him in this case?” Harry frowned at her.
“I have him helping me research for my own bill proposal, which you already knew about. That’s why you called me in, isn’t it?” Hermione glared at her friend. Harry tended to focus only on his own concerns, sometimes treating her like she was still his sidekick.
“Right! Of course. So is he looking for your bill, or the case?” Another furrow of dark brows.
“My bill, but I can apply the knowledge gained to both things. Honestly, Harry. This is the reason you wanted my help.”
“Yes, absolutely. I forgot for a moment, that’s all. Has Malfoy been in touch at all?”
“Malfoy? Why would the ferret need to get in touch with Hermione?” Ginny’s eyes bounced accusingly between the two.
“For the case, love. Malfoy is lead on the case with the centaur, and I pulled Hermione in to help with herd customs.” Harry spoke matter-of-factly to his wife. “I had her meet us in the forest the night of the incident.”
“And then abandoned me to deal with Malfoy on my own.” Hermione glared again. “Did you know he has a cell phone?”
“What’s a cell phone?” Ginny asked.
“A muggle communication device.” Harry answered. “Remember one summer Ron called the Dursley’s telephone while we were on break from Hogwarts?” At Ginny’s slow nod, Harry continued. “Well it's a telephone, only mobile. It isn’t attached to the wall, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”
Hermione pulled her own phone from her beaded bag and showed it to Ginny. “It allows you to speak instantly with someone else, without having to wait on a Patronus. I can also send a text, which is like an instant owl letter.”
“And Malfoy, heir to the Great and Noble Houses of Black and Malfoy, merciless bully, pureblood white haired git, Draco Malfoy, has one of these?” Ginny poked the phone with her fork.
“It appears so, since I added my number into it while we were wrapping up in the Forest of Dean.” Hermione picked the phone up to put it away.
“He’s not all that bad anymore.” Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’ve worked with him closely over the years, and the worst I can say he’s done is continue to smirk and snark at everyone. Not a single forbidden curse or Unforgivable used in the line of duty. Honestly, he’s been above board when dealing with suspects. Plus, he’s actually an asset on the Auror Quidditch team. He seems to really have turned away from everything Voldemort or Dark Magic related.”
“Be that as it may, he’s still a ferret. And it doesn’t excuse everything he did to all of us in school and the war. And his Quidditch skills are barely passable.” Ginny sulked next to Harry.
Hermione huffed a quiet laugh and privately thanked Godric that she hadn’t had to deal with Malfoy at work before. Hopefully this case would be open and shut, and she wouldn’t actually have to work with him again.
As the trio finished up dinner and started to clear their plates, the Floo flared green with the arrival of Ron.
“Dinner’s already over, so no begging me for any. You can have pudding with us though.” Ginny called out to her brother, then turned to give him a hug.
“I ate with Mum and Dad, but I’ll never say no to pudding. Harry, good to see you. George and I are working on something new for the shop and I was wondering if you could provide some help staying within legal—Hermione.” Ron cut himself off as Hermione came into view from the kitchen. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Ronald. Good to see you.” Hermione said stiffly. The friendship between the two hadn’t been the same since the war. Of course they loved each other, but once their shared experience of school and saving Harry had ended, they’d figured out pretty quickly that a romantic relationship wouldn’t have ever worked. They simply had too many conflicting differences.
“Yeah, you too ‘Mione. Uh, how have you been? I mean, I haven’t seen you around in a while. I’ve been meaning to ask you ‘round for dinner or some—”
Hermione cut him off. “I’ve been great. Working hard. Speaking of which, I’m exhausted from yesterday so I’m headed home. Harry, Ginny, thank you for a lovely meal but I can’t stay for pudding. Owl me about the match, would you Gin?”
She quickly gathered her things as her friends bid her goodbye. A quick nod of farewell, and she was once again spinning through the Floo.
An annoyed meow met her in her living room. Crookshanks was testy at the best of times, but when Hermione was late getting him his dinners he made his displeasure known. She set about putting away her cloak and bag, fed the cat, and washed her face.
Hermione pulled her cell phone from her bag to plug it in so it could charge overnight, when suddenly it dinged with an incoming message.
Unknown Number: Did you find any new information?
Hermione stared at the text with trepidation. Not many people had her number, and she supposed this one could be a wrong number. But caution would always win out for her when dealing with the unknown.
Hermione: Who is this?
She drummed her fingers on her leg while she waited on a reply.
Unknown number: Do you give out your number so often you can’t keep track of who has it?
Hermione: I’ll ask again. Who is this?
Unknown number: Who are you expecting it to be?
Hermione: Listen, I don’t enjoy my time being wasted. Tell me who you are or stop messaging me.
Unknown number: I am very familiar with the feeling. It’s Draco Malfoy. Now would you answer the original question?
Hermione stared at her phone. She felt so off kilter. While knowing logically that Malfoy had a cell phone, and she had added her number into it, she didn’t believe he would ever actually use it to contact her. And now he was texting her! It was too bizarre.
Malfoy: I’m waiting. Now whose time is being wasted?
Hermione: What kind of new information?
Malfoy: On centaur customs regarding murder, obviously.
Hermione: No. I have someone looking for more books for me though.
Malfoy: Who is it? I’d rather not have anyone else pulled into this case without prior approval.
Hermione: Technically they don’t know I need the information for your case. I’m already researching for a new bill, so they are under the impression the books are for that.
Malfoy: You didn’t answer the question again. Who is it?
Hermione: Manners maketh the man, Malfoy. You could be nicer when you’re asking someone a question.
Malfoy: If you’re going to quote Horman, please do so correctly. It’s ‘Manners maketh man.’ I won’t ask again. Who is looking for the books?
Hermione: How do you possibly know who the quote is from? He’s a muggle!
Hermione: Theo Nott. Great guy. Maybe you know him?
Malfoy: It rings a faint bell. I’ll take it from here.
Hermione: What do you mean you’ll take it from here?
Hermione: Malfoy?
Hermione: MALFOY.
An hour or so went by with no response from Malfoy at all. Just as Hermione was getting into bed, she heard her phone ding with a new notification.
Malfoy: Perhaps I know more about the muggle world than you think I do, Granger. I am texting you from a muggle cell phone after all. But please, continue believing in my ignorance. After all, no one could possibly be a match for The Brightest Witch of Her Age.
Hermione scoffed. There was no point in replying tonight so she turned off her phone, switched her bedroom lights off, and threw her head down on her pillow.