A/N – This takes place after the books, ignoring the epilogue.
Hermione's heels click against the marble floor as she speeds down the halls of the Ministry of Magic. She's late. Really late. As the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, it's up to her to interview new employees for the department. Recently the vice president, Crowell Bane, had a little run in with some tribal wizards in the North Tanzania mountains, and he's expected to be in St. Mungo's hospital for at least two months - that's how long Healer Bonham told her it would take to remove the thirteen extra legs growing out of his midsection.
Hermione has to hire a new vice president to take over Crowell's work during his hospital stay. Last week, she had to sort through over a hundred anonymous applications before finally settling down to three possible candidates. Unfortunately, the first two candidates were, in Hermione's opinion, completely incompetent. Angelina Wellsworth was fresh out of Hogwarts; the only work experience she had was a few summers working at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She was a nice girl, but definitely unprepared to handle international wizarding crises. Tom Belbo, the next applicant, was incompetent, but in an entirely different manner. He had twenty years experience under his belt, working in and out of the ministry, but throughout his entire interview, he kept taking long sips of fire whisky out of a tin flagon.
Hopefully today's applicant will have something to offer; otherwise, she'll have to start the entire search process over again. Hermione finally reaches her office, and she can see the outline of a man through the bubbled glass window. She straightens her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles, before opening the door and striding into the office. The man has his back to her- he seems to be staring at her wall of photographs. Unlike most wizards, Hermione prefers still pictures, unmoving shots of her friends and family. Despite living almost twenty years in the wizarding world, moving photos still give Hermione the creeps. She doesn't want Harry smirking down on her or Neville waving to her as she hunches over stacks of paperwork every day.
The applicant looks slightly taller than her, and he has thick, blonde hair. His hands are clasped behind his back, and Hermione notices a silver and emerald ring on one of his long fingers. There's a tiny snake carved into the silver. Hermione's stomach tightens in anticipation as she suddenly realizes who's standing in her office, not five feet away from her. "Malfoy," she says, her voice soft, yet firm.
He slowly turns around, cold gray eyes meeting Hermione's. He takes a step forward but stops advancing when he notices that Hermione is backing away. His pale lips curve into a bitter smile. "I'm not going to bite you, Hermione."
Hearing her first name fall from Draco's lips catches Hermione by surprise. In the past, he always addressed her as mudblood or Granger. She hasn't talked to Draco for almost ten years, not since that horrifying day where Hogwarts was run to ruin and Harry finally defeated Voldermort. The wizarding world is a small place, so she's seen glimpses of him, popping into Gringotts or grabbing a bite to eat at the Leaky Cauldron. But they haven't stood face to face for almost a decade. The feeling is completely unsettling, and Hermione backs up further so that she's standing behind her desk. "You just surprised me. That's all," Hermione says.
Draco looks at her with his familiar, calculated gaze. He seems to have barely changed in these past ten years. His body is a little more filled out, broad shoulders beneath his robes, and there's a faint outline of facial hair brushing across his jaw. But the eyes are the same, those cold, vicious eyes. "What are you doing here?" She asks.
Draco raises one, arched eyebrow. "I'm here for my interview."
"Oh. Right. Of course." The tightening in Hermione's chest relaxes slightly. Her instant reaction upon seeing Draco was fear and distaste. But if he wanted to harm her, why would he do it in the Ministry of Magic? Next to Hogwarts, it's the most well protected place in all of Europe. It never occurred to her that Draco was here to apply for the job.
She takes a calming breath before motioning to one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Please. Sit down," she says.
In her head, she's already running through the stacks of applications. There's absolutely no way she'll hire Draco Malfoy, but for the sake of procedure, she'll have to interview him anyways. "Thanks."
Hermione starts rustling through the parchments on her desk, trying to find Draco's application. She can feel his eyes on her the entire time, flushing her tense face. He must have known she would be interviewing him. Her name was on the bloody application: Hermione Granger, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Why would Draco ever want to work beneath her? Why would he ever stoop so low as to submit himself to a filthy mudblood. Even after all this time, the remainders of his cruelty are still buried deep into her skin.
"So," she says, finally finding his application. "You want to work for the ministry?"
"Well, actually, I've been working for the ministry for almost six years. I was on the Magical Games and Sports department, so initially, I did a lot of travelling for our international events." How did Hermione have no idea that Draco was working at the ministry? She can't believe they would hire the son of a deatheater, no, a deatheater himself. He was never punished for his involvement with Voldermort; his trial was publicized, and they judged him not-guilty, considering he was only a young, impressionable boy, forced to participate in the dark arts by his family. But still. He shouldn't be working for the very government his family tried to destroy.
"Really?" Hermione says. "I had no idea."
"Yes, well, as I said, I was travelling a lot in the beginning. I barely spent any time in the actual ministry. But recently, they've started putting me in an office, shoving paperwork down my throat, cooping me up all day." Draco grimaces. "I can't handle it. I need to be out of this building, accomplishing something besides tax reports. So, when I hard about Crowell's accident, I thought I might get a transfer to the International department. I know you all travel a lot for work, and for me, that's a lot more appealing than sitting in an office every day."
Hermione bites the edge of her quill as she quickly scans over Draco's application. He is qualified. A lot more qualified than everyone else she's looked at so far. And it's usually a golden rule to hire from within. Transfers are quite common in the ministry. But, no. She cannot hire Draco Malfoy. The idea of working with him, travelling with him makes her sick to her stomach. He's being perfectly cordial right now, but who's to say he's actually reformed? He's probably the same little blonde shit that roamed the halls of Hogwarts. "Well, you do have experience with the ministry," she says. "But I just don't think you're cut out for the job. I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy."
Draco lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Mr. Malfoy? Not cut out for the job?" He's shaking his head, staring Hermione down with sharp eyes. "Look Miss Granger, you haven't spoken a word to me for ten years. You have no idea the kind of man I am now, and yet, you're ignoring the fact that I'm overqualified for this position, and refusing to hire me on the basis that I was mean to you when we were children."
"Mean to me?" Hermione responds. She tries to keep her voice level, but she can feel hysteria rising beneath her cool surface. "Mean to me? You tortured me Malfoy. You made my life a living hell. Your family," she shakes her head, trying to hold back tears, "your family abused me." She walks around the desk so that she's towering above Malfoy, and she shoves up the sleeve of her robes, revealing scarred skin that reads Mudblood. "Your aunt did this to me. I could have had it removed, but I decided to keep it, as a reminder of everything that happened. Years from now, Voldermort and deatheaters will just be a chapter in The History of Magic. Children will skim over it and roll their eyes, but I will always remember the atrocities, the horror. I will never forget."
Hermione is breathing heavily, and her face is flushed. Usually, she's a very calm person, yet Draco seems to bring out the fury in her. She remembers her third year of Hogwarts when she was so fed up that she actually dropped her wand and punched him in the face.
Draco is staring at her, cold eyes shining with anger, his mouth set in a straight line. He stands up so they're standing less than an inch apart, and this time, Hermione doesn't back away. She's not scared. Draco is nothing. He can't hurt her. He opens his mouth, pale lips parting back into a snarl, and with deep, cold words says, "I see you've changed just as much as I. The old Hermione wouldn't let aged prejudice influence her decisions. The old Hermione would give anyone, and I mean anyone, a fighting chance for redemption." He looks her over slowly, shaking his head with distaste. "I came here hoping that we could put the past behind us. I came here knowing I would be successful at this job and hoping that you had the courage to let me try. But I guess I was wrong."
Draco picks up his black portfolio and heads for the office door. Before leaving, he turns once more, disgust in his gray eyes, and says, "You've turned into a bloody coward, Granger."
A/N – What do you think so far? Worth continuing?