A/N – Summary: This fic takes place seven years after the final battle. Voldemort has been defeated, so on and so forth. Most of the deaths stand, with the exception of Remus Lupin. In this fic, Hermione works in the Department of Care of Magical Creatures as assistant to the head, Lupin. She gets a visit from Malfoy, who asks her to help him with a business assignment. As she does so, she realizes that this Malfoy is not the Malfoy she once knew.
Other things you need to know: This is a Dramione fic, and it will have a happy ending. This is not a Ron bashing fic, though he does act a little stupid sometimes. Harry and Ginny are married and have their first baby, Albus. Hermione's parents are around; she went to find them after the war. Malfoy is a little OOC, if you count him maturing as out of character.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I just write when I procrastinate.
Chapter One: Seven Years
"Miss Granger?" Annie Whitman poked her head into Hermione's office. "You have a visitor."
Hermione's head was low, close to her desk, her quill scribbling across the parchment. She had just finished a case and was anxious to get the paperwork done before she forgot any pertinent details. A job in the Department of Care of Magical Creatures entailed a very studious eye for small, innocuous details that Hermione was perfect for, and within three years of taking her first job in the department, she had already been promoted to assistant to the head, Remus Lupin.
"If they don't have an appointment, I don't have the time, Annie, tell them I apologize and to make an appointment," Hermione said, her eyes never straying from the paper.
After writing for a few more seconds and realizing that Annie hadn't moved, Hermione put down her quill and focused her eyes on her secretary. "Who is it, Annie?"
Annie looked nervous now. "He has a letter from the Minister, he's insisting that he see you immediately, even though he doesn't have an appointment, I'm sorry, Miss Granger –"
Hermione pushed some tendrils of chocolate hair out of her face, "Annie, who is it?" She asked again.
"Draco Malfoy."
Hermione focused even more, everything in the room becoming sharper. She noticed that Annie's hair had been hurriedly pulled back, indicating that she had been trying to preen once she noticed who was standing in the office, which meant she found Draco Malfoy attractive. She noticed that Annie's eyes also kept darting back out to the lobby and back to her boss, indicating that she was scared of both Malfoy and Hermione. Hermione stacked a book on top of her paperwork, to keep the parchment from rolling up and simultaneously concealing the details of the mission.
"Send him in," she ordered. Annie nodded once and scurried out.
Moments later, Malfoy was strutting through her office door while Annie held it open for him, barely even bestowing a 'thank you' upon the secretary before focusing on Hermione, who was sitting at her desk, trying to look less than annoyed.
"Miss Granger," he said in way of greeting.
"Malfoy," she replied in the same, bored tone.
"I have a letter from the Minister," he said, holding out the aforementioned white flag. "Or else I wouldn't be here."
Hermione cocked her head, narrowing her eyes. "Are you going to make me read the letter from the Minister, or are you going to tell me why you're interrupting my very busy schedule?"
"Your very busy schedule of paperwork?" Malfoy answered slyly. "My, my, sounds like you haven't changed at all since Hogwarts." As Hermione opened her mouth to retort, Malfoy continued, "But I'm not here to argue with you. I'm here for business."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that you had a job at the Ministry of Magic," she said, not unkindly. "I thought…once your father was put in Azkaban –"
"It's true that obtaining this job was…difficult," Malfoy looked like his dress robes were suffocating him; he pulled his necktie away from his throat with his index finger so hard his pale finger turned bright red, "But I work for the International Department of Magical Cooperation, and I'm here to formally request your assistance on my newest assignment."
Hermione was taken aback at how straight-backed and uptight Malfoy sounded. "What happened to the amazing bouncing ferret?" She asked, a laugh in her voice.
Malfoy didn't smile. "That was seven years ago, Miss Granger. That boy does not exist anymore."
~~DM&HG~~
It had been seven years. Seven years since Harry had sacrificed himself to kill Voldemort; seven years since the deaths of Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Dobby, Severus Snape, and so many others. Eight years since the death of Albus Dumbledore. It had been seven years full of despair, chaos, and a bitter aftermath that left the wizarding population of Britain scarred and mistrusting.
Ginny Weasley was now Ginny Potter, and she and Harry lived in a flat in Godric's Hollow, where their first son, Albus Severus Potter, was learning to walk. Harry and Ginny had gotten engaged three weeks after the end of the war, and married less than a year after that. Hermione had been the maid of honor, Ron the best man.
Ron and Hermione had dated exclusively for five of the seven years following the war, until Hermione's job took her out of the country too often for his liking. In pure Ron fashion, he began trying out for multiple professional Quidditch teams, so that he could spend as much time away from their shared apartment as she did. He was finally chosen for the Lighting Warriors, a new team created in Harry's legacy. In less than six months, Hermione and Ron's relationship had fallen apart.
He hadn't cheated on her, he didn't beat her, he didn't do anything wrong. They had been, as Hermione kept telling herself, in two different places in their lives. Ron was still being 24, going to parties, playing Quidditch, and having his mother do his laundry. Hermione, on the other hand, had been ready to settle down and start a family.
In those seven years, she hadn't heard much about the Malfoys other than what the tabloids had been saying. Immediately following the war, Death Eaters were rounded up in droves to go to trial for their crimes against their country. Many were sentenced to death, but a few, Lucius Malfoy included, were given life sentences in Azkaban. Narcissa Malfoy had faced trial as well, but the Wizengamot had acquitted her due to her lie that ultimately turned the tide of the final battle.
It was Draco Malfoy's trial that had gotten the most publicity. He testified that he was a spy for the Order, though the only two people that knew about it, Snape and Dumbledore, were both dead and neither could vouch for his character. Several people from Hogwarts testified that he indeed possessed the Dark Mark and had killed Muggles, which put the youngest Malfoy's life in peril.
It was Luna Lovegood that saved his life. She testified before the Wizengamot that during her imprisonment in Malfoy Manor, wherein she faced torture, starvation, and severe interrogation, she had only survived because Malfoy snuck her food, water, and pain alleviation potions that kept her sane and able-bodied.
"He always came in a mask," she had said dreamily, "But I could see him in his eyes."
That had been the tagline of his entire trial, a circus that the tabloids exploited for years following his acquittal. Malfoy found it so unbearable that he fled to France, or at least that was the rumor. Hermione Granger had heard no more of Draco Malfoy until that day, when he stepped into her office.
And she had to admit, she wasn't sure what to make of him. It was hard to be snide and cruel to someone who refused to reply in kind. So, instead of kicking him out of her office, she invited him to have coffee with her in the cafeteria of the Ministry, as a gesture of good faith.
He took his coffee black, with two sugars, something she could have guessed based on his severe appearance. His black dress robes were customary with politicians, Aurors, and Severus Snape. Hermione herself took to wearing Muggle business attire rather than robes. That day, she was dressed in a lilac colored blouse and a grey pencil skirt, her unruly hair pinned back in a messy chignon.
She ordered her own coffee, a latte with extra sugar, and took the seat across from Malfoy. She watched him intently as he fastened the top on his travel cup and waited for him to speak.
"I work, primarily, with two very important people here in Britain," he said, not looking at her. "They have recommended you as the most competent witch to help me accomplish this task, and I do believe, despite past prejudices, that they are right."
Hermione felt a compulsory need to thank him, but refrained. "Who are these two people?"
"Minister Kingsley Shaklebolt and Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall," Malfoy replied, taking a sip of his coffee. Hermione's brows furrowed, as they always did while she was thinking, and Malfoy hid his customary smirk behind his cup.
Hermione didn't notice; she was too busy trying to figure out what task would entail the Ministry, Hogwarts, Malfoy and herself. "Why would they need me?" She asked instead. "Between the two of them, they could do just about anything."
Malfoy leaned a little closer to the table, and Hermione followed suit. "They want to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament," he said softly. His breath smelled like coffee. "They've been facing scrutiny from other countries, ones more…stable than our own. They think we're weak, and they want to showcase that on a global scale."
Hermione was shocked. "They want to –" her voice went shrill; she took a deep breath and started again. "They want to bring back the Tournament? After Cedric?"
Malfoy shrugged. "They, Kingsley and Minerva, don't want to bring it back at all. But they've been saying no for three years now, the other schools are getting cocky. They think this is one of the ways we can build international relations while witches and wizards are still young and, at the same time, show the other countries that Britain is wounded, but still breathing."
Hermione found herself smiling. "You've thought a lot about this, haven't you, Malfoy?"
"I had to, seeing as I had to get you on board," he answered easily. "I didn't think you'd go for it."
She sighed. "I don't want to," she admitted. "The Tournament is dangerous."
"But ruining international relations would be even more so," Malfoy reasoned.
Hermione quirked her lips, Malfoy smirked. "What?"
"I can see the wheels turning in your head, Miss Granger, and that means you're going to agree. What will people say when they see you and me working together on something like this?" Malfoy asked.
"I'm not too buggered with what the press will say about us, we need to worry about what they'll report on the Tournament," Hermione said, all business, but a nagging worry tugged at her all the same.
~~DM&HG~~
It was early in the morning. Much, much too early for a Saturday morning, one Hermione had designated for sleeping in. At much, much too early on a Saturday morning, Hermione was woken from her deep slumber to the sound of someone Flooing into her apartment.
"Hermione Jean Granger, get your arse out of bed!" Came the shout from the living room. Hermione swung her feet into her slippers and shuffled into her lounge, where Ronald Weasley was waiting, dressed in his Quidditch practice uniform, brandishing the Daily Prophet like a madman.
"Hello, Ronald, how nice to see you," Hermione said sarcastically. "Would you like a cup of tea?" She filled her kettle with water and set it on the stove, Muggle style.
Ron rolled his eyes. "No, I do not bloody want a cup of tea! Mione, what is this?" He waved the newspaper in front of her eyes again. She snatched it out of his hand roughly and stared at the front page uncomprehendingly.
"This is a newspaper, Ronald," she replied arrogantly. "Did you really need to wake me up to ask me that?"
"Turn to page three," he snapped.
"Nice to see you too, by the way," Hermione muttered under her breath as the kettle began to screech. She poured the water into her teacup and shuffled, heavy shouldered, to the dining room table.
She hadn't even added honey to her tea before Ron slapped the paper down on the table in front of her, open to page three. At the top of the page, in bold letters, was Ron's huge attitude problem, in the form of a gossip article.
Gold and Black the new color of love?
Underneath the vague title was a grainy picture of Malfoy and Hermione while they were having coffee, leaning in close to each other's cheeks. Hermione could tell this was the moment that Malfoy told her about the Tournament; her face flushed, and she looked surprised. But to an outsider, they looked cozy, certainly familiar.
Below the picture was the article:
Miss Hermione Granger, Assistant Head of the Care of Magical Creatures Department, had an intimate coffee date with none other than accused Death Eater and reformed blood supremacist Draco Malfoy on Tuesday afternoon. Could it be that blood purity means nothing to the young Malfoy now that he has laid eyes on the Muggleborn war heroine?
Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger could not be reached for comment, but a source inside the Ministry revealed to this reporter that Mr. Malfoy has had his eye on Miss Granger for some time, and has simply been waiting for his moment.
What do you think, readers? Do you support the mixture of gold and black? Can light and dark really make nice in light of all that has happened? And, most importantly, where is Hermione's boyfriend, Ron Weasley?
Hermione rolled her eyes and folded the paper neatly, not bothering to answer Ron's blotchy red face. She sipped her tea slowly, savoring the taste, and flipped the newspaper to the front page, where she serenely began to read the article on Hogwarts' staff changes. She could vaguely see Ron fidgeting out of the corner of her eye and had to fight the urge to grin. Serves him right for waking her up.
She was just about to turn the page when he snatched the paper out of her hand.
"Hey!" She exclaimed. "You woke me up on the weekend just to accuse me of something that was completely none of your concern, you could at least let me read the paper."
Ron wasn't listening. "Is it true?" He asked hotly.
Hermione furrowed her brows. "Ron, did you suffer a recent blow to the head?" She asked sweetly.
Ron looked confused. "No."
"Did I recently suffer a blow to the head?"
"No."
"Did you somehow magically forget that you and I have not been dating for two years?"
"No, but Mione –"
"Then you can take your paper, your muddy shoes, and get out of my apartment," she said firmly. "I don't need to answer any of your questions, Ronald. They're founded in unnecessary jealousy."
"But the article –"
Hermione cut him off. "The article doesn't know that we broke up two years ago because you asked me to keep it quiet. I did that for you. Now do this for me."
Ron's face was less red, but his ears still looked aflame. "If there's nothing going on, then why are you kicking me out?"
"Because it is 6 a.m. and I want to go back to sleep!" Hermione shouted. "Go!" And with a feeling reminiscent of kicking her cat out of her room, she shoved Ron into the fireplace and Flooed him back to his training center.
In her flurry of movement, she managed to reclaim the newspaper from Ron's hand; she peered at the picture of herself and Malfoy for a few moments. Malfoy's face had, with age, gotten less pointed and more square, his white blonde hair was short, but well groomed, and his dress robes made him look like one of those models out of Muggle magazines that Lavender and Parvati were always cooing over.
She could see why Ron would be worried. She tossed the newspaper into the fire, letting it curl and turn black in the remnant ashes of Ron's forced departure. She left it there and retreated to her room to get dressed so she could have breakfast with Ginny and Harry.
~~DM&HG~~
"I swear I'm not late," she shouted from the fireplace as she exited, her gray slacks dirty with soot. She tapped her wand on her thigh and it disappeared. She glanced around the small living room, where Albus was sitting on his plump bottom in his playpen, watching the fireplace.
"Hey there, little buddy," Hermione cooed, scooping him up. "Did you miss your Aunt Mia?"
Albus gurgled happily and clapped his hands together, successfully catching a few strands of Hermione's still damp hair.
"Albie, who's here?" Said the voice of Ginny, and Harry's wife swept into the living room, wearing a short apron and a sweater. "Is it Auntie Mia?"
"Myaaa!" Albus shouted into Hermione's ear. Hermione screwed up her face with the noise, drawing a laugh from her friend.
Ginny reclaimed her son and placed him back in the playpen. "He's having his solo play time while we finish up the cooking," she said. "We want his imagination to develop so his magic comes into play as early as five," she confided.
Hermione was impressed. "Have you been reading those parenting books again?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and pointed in the direction of Harry's silhouette. Harry chose that moment to bound in from the garden, where he was plucking fresh tomatoes for breakfast. He gave Hermione a quick hug, holding the dirty tomatoes away from her, and kissed her on the cheek.
"I heard you had a rude awakening," he said knowingly. Hermione gave him a chuckle while Ginny looked expectant.
"What? What happened? I didn't hear anything!" She exclaimed. The sound of her baby drew her attention momentarily; she jogged to the doorway to make sure he was only playing before she returned. "What's going on?"
"Ron woke me up this morning to some Prophet article that he didn't like," Hermione said. "He seems to think I'm dating Draco Malfoy because we had a business meeting."
Ginny laughed and returned to her cooking. "So he finally graced you with his blundering presence," she said. "He comes her a lot to ask about you."
Harry nodded solemnly behind Ginny's back. "He seems to think he'll eventually get you back, but I think he may have taken a few steps backward this morning."
Hermione raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I will always love Ronald, but not like that," she said. "Sorry," she directed at Ginny, who shrugged.
"Brother or not, he's a right git sometimes," she said, chopping tomatoes. "I don't blame you."
"So what were you and Malfoy talking about anyway?" Harry asked curiously.
"Oh, Harry, not you too!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry laughed. "No judgment, just curious. I've worked with him indirectly a few times, and he's been respectful the whole time. I don't doubt that you could have a civil conversation with the man about work."
Hermione sighed, relieved. "I would love to talk about it, but it's confidential."
"Must be big," Harry answered simply.
Hermione gave him a brief smile of thanks for his patience and got up to help Ginny cook. Ginny waved her away with her spoon, charming the dishes to start washing themselves and the tomatoes to soften on the stove.
"You want to help, go get the high chair for Al," she said. Hermione obliged, and sat the squirming baby in it. He squealed happily. Ginny placed a small plate of scrambled eggs in front of him and placed omelets in front of everyone else.
"This looks delicious," Hermione gushed as they all dug in. It wasn't long before the plates were empty and the chatter had dulled to a comfortable silence. Harry sat with his arm around his wife, twirling a spare piece of her long, red hair around his finger while he prodded his son in the belly, tickling him. Hermione watched with content.
Tap tap tap.
"Owl!" Albus screeched. "Owl!"
Hermione ruffled his soft, black hair as she opened the window. The large brown owl waddled up to her and stuck its leg out, waiting patiently for her to remove the scroll.
"Looks like it's for you," Ginny said.
The stationary was official St. Mungos stationary. Hermione felt a vague sense of dread fall over her as she opened the letter. As her eyes quickly scanned the text, her face went whiter and whiter until Harry stood up and placed an arm on her elbow to steady her.
"What is it?" Harry asked gently. "Mione, what's going on?"
"Narcissa Malfoy is dead," she breathed. "She was killed by a house elf, who was found to be under the Imperius curse. I have to go."
Ginny quickly stood. "Wait, why?"
"They want to execute the house elf, even though she committed murder under an Unforgiveable," Hermione said hurriedly. "And because she doesn't have human rights, they can do that if I don't get there in time."
"Go!" Harry said. "Don't worry about explaining it, go!"
Hermione gave him a quick hug and turned on the spot, Apparating to the place she never wanted to be again: Malfoy Manor.
