A/N: So this is a little bit of a brain child that I've had for a while, I've really taken my time in writing it as I've never written a femslash fic before...
This is going to be a 5 part fic, and I hope if you chose to read it that you'll enjoy it! :)
Hermione Granger couldn't understand anyone who didn't see the value of books. All her life, her love of literature and learning had encircled and enthralled her. She couldn't guess how many books that she owned, so many that she had filled the two bookcases in her own room and begun to spill over into a half empty bookcase in her parents study – and that had all been before she found out she was a witch, and discovered a whole new facet of books that she had previously known nothing about! She had always known there was something a little bit different about her, even when she was very young. There were odd instances where she would look back, as an adult, and understand that it had been the magic; but as a child it had always been a bit surreal. When she had been six or seven, she recounted to her parents that she was reading Roald Dahl's Matilda and that – like the protagonist – she had tried to make books on her bookshelves move, and they had! Yet when she tried it in front of her parents, nothing happened. She had been confused at this, but accepted her parent's explanation – it must have been a dream.
But Hermione's life had turned out much more peculiarly than many of her beloved book characters. She had found out she was a witch, been accepted into Hogwarts and had become best friends with Ron and Harry. Their adventures, during their years at Hogwarts, had already become the subject of books. Yet since leaving Hogwarts after the Battle, the adventures in her life had dropped off… Harry wanted some people, which no one could blame him for, and Ron wanted to spend time with his family. Hermione understood where both of them were coming from, but she didn't want to be idle- she needed to be doing something but she couldn't quite figure out what that something was. Once the War had ended, and the fervour of excitement and celebration about Voldemort's demise had subsided, Hermione had gone to Australia to find her parents. After restoring their memory she had explained what she had done – and they had returned to Britain. None of that had eased her restlessness, her indecision about what to do next in her life. She knew, and actively tried, to campaign for rights for other magical creatures because that was important to her, but there was nowhere that would employ her to do that full time – that was her hobby. She didn't want to be an auror, despite the numerous times that Ron had tried to talk her into it. Ron and her had also seen the error of their ways – getting together at the peak of the War had been exciting, passionate and romantic, but staying together after so much had changed had become impossible. So they had amicably decided that this relationship wasn't for the here and now, but maybe in the future it would be right – so they'd leave the door open.
All of this had meant that only a few months after the end of the War Hermione didn't have a boyfriend, wasn't really sure what she wanted her future to be, and she was restless. So she had turned back to the one thing that had always been part of her life, regardless of magic or muggle – books. She managed to get an archiving job in the historical and academic department of wizarding research. It wasn't glamorous, or particularly busy, and the last wizard who had been in charge of archiving hadn't seemed to know in which order the alphabet was. At least it meant she was occupied – especially as this department wasn't frequented with visitors; and when there was, they were normally just as old as some of the first articles. A few of them had stopped and chatted with her, telling her what they were researching; they were all pleasant enough – but Hermione felt that just added to the "samey" monotonous routine she had fallen into until she could figure something better out.
Hermione pulled her scarf extra tightly around her cheeks, the bitter wind that was blowing right through her had almost made her want to retreat back into her cosy little flat, but she didn't have far to walk and then she would be in the relative warmth of the archive. The mornings were marginally lighter now, but she still looked forward to when spring would fight its way through winter.
When she arrived at her work she discovered – to her surprise – that every coat hook was taken up by a jacket, resolving that she would have to leave her coat in the little staff room (which comprised of a sink, chair and not much else!). She stopped on her way in to find out what was happening from Gladioli, the receptionist.
"It's some sort of research trip for a bunch of students, or prospective students – something like that," She told Hermione. "It's been arranged for a few weeks – I had even put it in the diary! But I must have forgotten about it because they were all standing outside when I arrived this morning!" She admitted slightly guilty. "But it's good! If they want to come and look around maybe others will as well, we might liven this place up yet!"
"Yeah, that's good." Hermione highly doubted that they would "liven" the place up like Gladioli wished; the archive library was an absolutely amazing resource – it contained articles, journals and notes on topics she hadn't even heard of – but it was difficult to search through. It took patience, which was something that not many people possessed. If she worked here long enough to finish the ordering of all the journals and documents, she would maybe then set up some kind of quick referencing grid so people could find the sort of thing they were looking for.
Gladioli had been right about people livening the archive up a little bit – the movement, the warmth, even the presence of other alive people in the library made a difference.
Hermione threw her jacket onto the chair in the staff area, and dug through a pile of bookmarked articles that she had not finished filing away from yesterday. She bundled them in her arms and made her way over to the shelves she had been working at. Hermione could see several of the students wandering about in among the shelves. For a few moments she wondered what they were looking for; she would probably be able to point them in the right direction if they asked her – but maybe they were here to learn how to research. There was a low murmur caused by the students that reminded Hermione of the library at Hogwarts. Was she now the replacement of the vulture-like Madam Pince, who had stalked in between the shelves waiting to pounce on unsuspecting students if they were misbehaving. That almost made Hermione laugh to think of herself as Madam Pince – but these students were all well behaved, if this was for a grade or a pre-requisite for a course, they weren't about to screw that up just to have a bit of fun.
Normally Hermione found it very easy to become immersed in her work – usually she could quickly become enthralled in ensuring that all the documents she was in charge of were being filed and notated correctly. Today she kept getting distracted by this party of students; most of them seemed to have found what they were looking for and taken seats in the covered desks to look through what they had retrieved. There was one boy who looked as though he had emptied the entire contents of a shelf and piled it up on the desk next to him – Hermione only hoped that he had kept them in some semblance of order. There were a few still wandering about in and out of the shelves; the closest to Hermione, a girl with thick dark hair that fell in ringlets all down her back, kept shooting glances over at Hermione. After about five minutes of the girl hovering in the same place in the same place, she turned to Hermione.
"Excuse me," She began very quietly. "Do you work here?"
"Yes," Hermione laid down the pamphlet she had been filing, noticing that the girl's eyes were very much like Hagrid's – beetle black and sparkling. "Can I help at all?"
"I'm trying to find anything you might have about the difference between animal-based potion ingredients and plant-based," She replied, "Do you know if there's anything like that?"
"I'm not entirely sure there'll be an extensive amount of research." Hermione warned, walking along the row that they were standing in. "But what there is, will be along here." Hermione led her towards the back of the archive, which was fairly dark until the light globes above them sensed their presence. "This is where the information you're looking for is most likely to be." Hermione had come to a halt at the section about potions and alchemy.
"Thank you." The girl said, beginning to browse up and down the shelf.
"You're welcome; if you need any more help just give me a shout." Hermione offered, leaving her at the back of the archive. Maybe they weren't all studying the same subject – with them being so spread out throughout the archive. Whilst walking back down to the area that she had been working in, her eye was caught by a pile of journals lying on the floor – clearly someone had pulled them out, thinking they might have been of some use, but changed their mind and decided not to return them to their original place. Feeling a flare of annoyance at the carelessness of some individuals, she marched along the row to see if she could identify who had done that. The aisle at the end of the rows was empty however. She wandered up and down, looking in the rows either side of the one she had emerged from – in reality she wouldn't know what to say if she did find anyone maliciously pulling out things from the shelves. She would probably just follow them, picking up anything they dropped and trying to minimise any damage. But there was no one in close enough proximity for Hermione to think it was them. The closest people to her were the dark haired girl whom she had just led to the back of the archive, and a tall blonde girl who seemed deeply engrossed in a journal about six rows away from the pile of books. Hermione was about to return and clean up the mess that the infuriating individual had left, when something about the tall blonde girl caught Hermione's eye. Half concealed behind the edge of the row end, Hermione watched the girl as she stood – almost with her back towards Hermione. The girl was very tall, taller than Hermione by about a head, with white blond hair pulled into two small ponytails at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a pair of hip rider faded denim jeans and a checked shirt which looked rather over large for her thin frame. Hermione realised that she was gripping the edge of the shelf rather tightly, and staring at the back of this girl transfixed, and she didn't know why.
Then the girl turned, and her features were thrown into sharp relief by the light, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from gasping. There was no way that Hermione could fail to recognise the pale, pointed face with the long straight nose – and there was no possibility of not recognising the mercury silver eyes that were widening in horror as they looked straight at Hermione. The two of them stared at each other, Hermione could feel her face going red at having been caught staring. But with those recognisable features – ones she had spent six years at school trying to avoid – broad shoulders and a thin frame, it was unmistakably:
"Draco?" Hermione asked, confusion wracking through her; the person standing in the row flinched as though Hermione had thrown a book at them.
"Don't call me that." It came out as a whisper, but she had screwed up her eyes closed and shook her head as Hermione watched.
"I'm sorry." Hermione muttered, keeping her voice low so as to not disturb anyone else; it was clear that she had caused some distress. "But you are-" She had been about to say 'a Malfoy' when she was cut over.
"No I'm not!" The shrill shriek rent the quiet air of the archive. There was a sudden murmuring as all of the other people questioned one another about what had just happened. Hermione was slightly dumbfounded by the ferocity of her response. "Don't stick your nose in where it isn't wanted Granger!" Hermione wanted to back away, she wanted to retreat into the tiny staffroom and hide there for the rest of the day; but she could feel the angry glare being thrown her way.
"I – I…" She stammered, slightly unsure of what she should do or say now.
"You just keep your mouth shut, alright?" It was meant to be a threat, but her voice was trembling through fear. Hermione nodded dumbly, knowing that there was no other mode of action that could be taken. Then very suddenly, the girl dropped the book she had been reading – spun round and almost ran out of the row; after a few seconds Hermione was aware of the 'ting' of the bell on the door which rang when someone entered or exited the archive. Hermione dug her fingernails into her palm to see if she could feel the pressure – she was half convinced that this must be some sort of a bizarre dream she was having, but she could feel the jagged edges of her nails impressing into the soft skin of her palms.
Hermione stood there blankly for a while before coming to the realisation that she actually should be working. She collected the dropped book from the floor and slotted it back into the empty space on the shelf. She knew that she should go and sort out the mess of journals and articles that whoever had dumped on the floor, but she found herself walking back to the tiny excuse for a staffroom and switching the kettle on. She chewed on her fingernails as she heard the water in the kettle boil. She felt as though she was just waking up from a daze, her brain reacting slowly and stupidly. That had been Malfoy though – she really hadn't made that detail up. Unless Draco had an identical relation that had to be him. But if it was, what was he doing dressed entirely as a girl? The repulsion at the use of his own name had been obvious – but then perhaps Hermione, too, would have been repulsed if her name was forever synonymous with Death Eater. Hermione's head was beginning to ache as she thought about it.
She scooped her teabag out of her cup, aware that she would spend the rest of her day trying to figure out exactly what had just happened…
A/N: I'd love to hear what you think/feel about this chapter! :)