Chapter 3
Draco:
1 Week Before:
Salazar above she was fit now? When the bloody hell had that happened?
Even from his low-level “Junior Member” DMLE seat in the atrium (which ironically was very high and not close enough to the main floor for his liking) he could see she had become.. Shapely.
Not that this was any concern to him, no. Wizarding London’s most eligible bachelor had much better things to think about other than the faint curve of Granger's calf in those heels.
He didn’t understand why his presence was necessary. He was only a Junior Member of the Wizengamot, an honorary title that heads of task forces held in the DLME. Potter and Tonks held the only two seats that mattered. As Senior and Head for their department theirs were the only votes that counted. He was there purely for show, or tradition, depending on who you asked.
Most of the time he didn’t mind being privy to the political gossip that grew from this atrium, but today there were other places he’d prefer to be.
Most notably Nott’s 28th birthday party.
Which had started around 30 minutes ago.
It was strictly against his upbringing to show up unfashionably late for a party. Especially his best mate's birthday party.
Draco and Theo had grown close after the war. Both boys left relatively to their own defenses after their parents' sentencing, they had a dark sort of loneliness to bond over. It helped that they were both filthy rich. After both of Theo’s parents had been taken to Azkaban for life, he essentially became Britain's wealthiest orphan. While Draco eventually had the comfort of his mothers presence in the huge manor after she finished her mandatory inpatient “sentence” at St. Mungos, Theo would never get to see his parents again. He essentially became “Britain's Wealthiest Orphan” as Witch's Weekly coined him. And Britain’s Wealthiest Orphan loved to throw a party. This year's theme was “Olympus: A Party for the Gods”. He of course spared no expense, he didn’t have to.
The only people richer than the Nott’s were the Malfoys, and Draco was prepared to make that abundantly clear with the gift he had planned for Theo.
There were of course not supposed to be any gifts, Godrick above knew Nott didn’t need them. However, Draco liked to show off.
So he had purchased his friend the most expensive outrageous gift he could think of. He bought his friend a car. A muggle car. The most expensive one he could find. A Bugatti Veyron 16.4 to be exact. Then he had it custom painted a dark forest green (for Slytherin pride of course) and charmed by a magical mechanic to fly as fast as it can drive. A very expensive gift which he couldn’t wait to show up in.
If only this whole affair could wrap up a little quicker.
He’d been there since 7 in the morning, which was torture in itself to wake up that early on a Saturday, and he was stuck listening to nomination after nomination for the running of the next Minister of Magic. Some of the nominees were really quite competent. Seraphina Hawkewood, for example, who was the long standing head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She delivered her speech perfectly, all while staring down Kingsley with her (ironically) beady hawk-like eyes. Draco found her delightfully intimidating, and she was a legend in the Ministry on top of that. Her lightning quick response to the 1994 Quidditch World Cup disaster not only solidified her role as Head of the DMAC but also saved countless lives.
A rare sight indeed- competency in the ministry. She was the polar opposite of McLaggen, who was nominated despite the sauce stain on his robe and his lack of preparation. Not that this mattered in his case. His uncle had secured his space behind closed doors. Draco only knew this because he watched the burly man flee Tonk’s office with a myriad of hexes on his tail. Idiocy must run in the family.
And now, half past 6, they were finally on their final candidate. Wizarding London’s Golden Girl. Freer of house elves and representative to the underrepresented. It was no surprise there had been little to no pushback on the nomination of one Hermione Granger.
As she cleared her throat and began her opening remarks, voice magically amplified, she was interrupted by Kingsley and his secretary, informing her that she had been almost unanimously voted into the running.
As if there was a world where she would have been denied.
The crowd of the Wizengamot streamed down to congratulate the newest nominee, and Draco took the opportunity to make a hasty exit.