The Inquisition:
Hermione's face was set in determination as she made her way towards the Minister of Magic's office. Witches and wizards alike moved out of her path, not wanting to impede on her destination; they knew better than to interrupt her when she was on a mission.
Kingsley Shacklebolt's office was unlocked, as if he were expecting her to come rushing in with his memo clutched in her hand. "Yes, Hermione?" He asked without looking up from the parchment he was writing on. She crumpled the memo and threw it at his desk in a fit that could rival a two year-old. "I refuse to work with that…that git!" She yelled. Kingsley shook his head subtly because he had known this would be her reaction.
"He's being trained to work along with the Ministry, and I don't trust anyone else with the job." He added finishing touches to the parchment before tapping his wand against the surface, bewitching it to fly towards its recipient. Hermione stood in front of his desk shaking her head. "I can't do it," She said softly; in defeat. Her head hung loosely on her shoulders as if a puppeteer snapped the cord holding her neck. Kingsley maneuvered around his desk and rubbed her back in a fatherly fashion. She hadn't realized she was crying until small splatters of salt water dripped onto the desk.
"It just brings back bad memories," Hermione choked out. Even thinking about it sent her mind back to that day in the Malfoy Manor where Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the word mudblood into her arm using the knife that killed Dobby, the free elf. Kingsley gave her one more pat on the back before he settled back into his chair. "I know, but he asked for you, personally. And he paid good money for it."
Paid good money? For me? Hermione didn't really think that was true – but she knew how important the Malfoy's were to the Ministry. She didn't really have a choice if he personally asked for her. She looked back up at the Minister with pure purpose in her eyes. She was going to do this with a professional attitude; she wasn't going to let his stupid, arrogant attitude get to her. She started to leave Kingsley's office but before she had crossed the threshold, she stuck her head back in, "Do you know why he asked for me?"
Kingsley shook his head, but Hermione noticed the hesitation beforehand. She wasn't convinced. She turned on her heel and stomped down the hallway to her small yet quaint Assistant's office. Why did she have to train this bloody twat to work alongside her?
Her lips were set in a near permanent frown as she left the Ministry on her lunch break. Adrian Frère was waiting for her at the little coffee shop on the corner. Her frown instantly turned into a smile as she made her way over to him. He greeted her with an equally great smile and a kiss on her lips. "How has your day been?" He asked her, his voice still thick with a French accent. She loved his accent.
"Oh, just swell…just swell," She replied in a huff. He cocked one of his eyebrows and gave her a questioning look. "I have to train somebody at work," She started. Adrian nodded his head as if he understood her dilemma, except that he didn't. He hadn't gone to school with her or Malfoy; he didn't understand just how much she loathed the person and his family.
She hadn't been dating him for long; only for a couple of months. They weren't all too serious – they hadn't even had sex. But Adrian Frère was everything she could want in a man: loyal, loving, and even understanding. He knew when to listen to her and when to just be quiet and love her. He kind of reminded her of a family 'pet'.
"Hermione? Hermione." He asked, waving his hand in front of her face to get her attention. She closed her eyes and reopened them, smiling at him. "Yeah?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea which had begun to turn cold. She looked right and left, and when she knew there weren't any Muggles nearby, she snapped her fingers, giving the tea a little heat. Adrian shook his head with a chuckle in his throat before he continued, "I was asking if you'd like to go to dinner tonight?"
Hermione smiled widely at him. "Sure!" She said excitedly, wrapping her arms around him after she exited the patent leather booth they were at. He rubbed her back and then pulled back to stroke her face. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips against hers. Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall and let a gasp escape her lips – she needed to be at the office soon for her meeting with Malfoy. She kissed Adrian once more before hurrying out of the little diner.
Temptation Required:
What exactly was it that his father told him when he was younger? Draco thought about it for a while as he drove through the country side on his way into London. "Oh, that's right, 'The road to success is often riddled with tempting parking spaces,'" he said aloud as he shifted gears in his brand new sports car. If his success was being able to work alongside the Ministry, as his father put it, he hoped, no, wished that there were many temptations to satisfy his needs; physically, mentally, but mostly sexually.
Draco thought it was funny how, even after serving his time in Azkaban, his father still wanted connections to the Ministry. If he had been sentenced along with his parents, he definitely did not want anything to do with the Ministry. But, what Lucius wanted, he usually got, so Draco didn't argue when his father told him he'd be receiving personal training with an official at the Ministry.
Draco didn't even know what he'd be training for. He absolutely refused to train for an Auror position, but that still left several other positions to be trained for. Harry Potter may have saved his life, but that didn't mean Draco wanted to be trained to kill rogue Death Eaters by him. Just thinking about the words Death Eater made the mark on his arm burn with an irritation itch. The marks had faded when Voldemort died, but with the trained eye, you could still see the outline of them. Draco stared at the area where it once plagued him and sneered. His dark mood was interrupted when an aggravated beeping went off, reminding him that he was already late for the first training with the Ministry. "Damn!" He yelled, glaring out the window. He pressed his foot even harder on the pedal and pushed the car to go even faster. He wanted to get this training done and over with.
Curiosity Never Killed the Cat, it only maimed it:
Hermione looked at her delicate watch again, for the tenth time since she returned to her office. He was supposed to be here nearly thirty minutes ago. She threaded her fingers together and straightened her posture. The clock in her office ticked on and on and on for another five minutes before a knock resounded throughout the small office.
"Come in," She said loudly, turning back to the papers on her desk. She wanted to look and act as professional as possible, even if it was just Malfoy. She wanted to show him that much had changed outside of school. When she looked back up at the door, though, Harry Potter's head was the one that greeted her. She expelled a breath that she didn't even know she was holding. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were…." She started. Harry chuckled softly as he entered her office completely, shutting the door behind him. "I just heard about it. How are you holding up?" He asked, moving to stand behind her. He put both his hands on her shoulder and began to massage the muscles that were tense with stress. She hung her head again without giving him an answer. "It's just hard to think about it, even though the War is over."
Harry nodded his head; he was the only person in the world who actually understood her pain without a doubt. She unbuttoned her shirt sleeve and pushed it back to reveal the scars that were inflicted on her that year. She used her index finger from the other hand to trace the silvery lines that were crudely drawn into her skin. "She got what she deserved, Hermione," Harry said as he continued to rub her shoulders. Hermione nodded her head in agreement, recalling the moment when Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and killed Bellatrix. Everybody had been such an emotional wreck that day, except Hermione. She had stayed strong for everybody else, to show them everything was going to be okay – it was probably the prefect personality of hers. She stayed strong for those around her, but after she returned home, she broke down and cried for days on end. She hadn't known what to do with herself.
Harry moved her hair from the back of her neck and was rubbing the soft flesh beneath when another knocked resonated at her office's door. She let out a small sound, and began to button her shirt as Harry made to move around the desk. Draco opened the door just as Hermione stood to straighten her clothes, and he looked back and forth at the two friends. "Getting a little frisky in here, eh?" He asked with that stupid Slytherin sneer she'd grown to hate. "Excuse me?" She replied, walking in front of her desk. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. She didn't want to deal with his 'I'm better than you,' attitude. What better way to stop it than act like a bitch back. Her plan worked.
"Sarcasm, Granger," Malfoy replied. He crossed his arms as he nodded to Harry, who returned his greeting. He looked back and forth between the two before he finally ended the silence: "So, when do we start training?" He asked, turning slightly towards Harry. Both Hermione and Harry noticed who Malfoy favoured in the situation, and it warmed Hermione that she'd be able to destroy his pleasure. "We were supposed to start training almost an hour ago," She replied, reaching over her desk to grab her jumper. Malfoy whispered obscenities under his breath and grumbled but with one look of her icy glare, he stopped.
Hermione motioned to the door and waited for Malfoy to remove himself from her office before she began walking towards the lifts. "This is the Minister of Magic's floor, as well as his assistants and advisors." She said without looking back at Malfoy to see if he was following.
"What exactly am I being trained for?" Malfoy asked her as he stepped into the lift. Did he really not know? She shook her head in contempt before she answered, "You're set to be one of his financial advisors." Malfoy licked his lips and pulled at his closely-kept beard as they made their way to the Atrium. "If I'm going to be a financial aide, then why are we going to the Atrium?" He asked out loud. Hermione rolled her eyes again – did he know anything? "As a financial advisor, you need access to rooms that only certain employees have admission to. We're putting you in the system to get rid of that," She pointed to the small lacquered name plate that read VISITOR, "and getting you a real one."
The door to the lift pulled open and the cacophonous sound of the Atrium tumbled in. Hermione grimaced, but set ahead anyways, making her way to the hallway that led to Resources. When they reached the security room, Hermione nodded to the head of security, Blue Nose, who also happened to be an Orc. She had a special bond with Blue because he was one of the only people at the Ministry that didn't treat her with special circumstances – and he had no reason to. Orcs were one of the few creatures that weren't affected with the Wizarding World. To Blue, Hermione was just a young, nice witch.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Granger," Blue huffed, wrinkling his bulbous nose. She smiled warmly at him, "Hello, Blue." Blue looked back and forth between her and Malfoy before clearing his throat. "Oh, yes, sorry. Blue, this is Mr. Malfoy. He needs to be inputted in the system; he's one of Minister Shacklebolt's new financial advisors." Hermione rambled. Malfoy raised an eyebrow but continued in his stilled silence. The Orc turned around to gather his supplies and when he faced the duo again, he carried a heavy machine that was riddled with lights and mirrors and had a slight whirring noise.
Blue motioned for Malfoy's hand and set to work. He scanned his fingerprint and retinal images, plucked a silvery hair (much to Malfoy's dismay). Malfoy complained when Blue took a sample of his blood, but other than that, he stayed quiet. Once the new lacquered name plate was created, Hermione led Malfoy back out to the Atrium which wasn't as crowded as it was when they first came down. She looked at her watch and a small smile grew upon her lips. "Well, I'm officially off, so we'll pick up training tomorrow," She said as she made her way to the Floo network.
When she stepped outside, she noticed that Malfoy had followed her. Why was he following her? He could have Floo'd to his house. She didn't bother asking him, though, and set off towards the salon in West End. She looked behind her again and noticed that Malfoy was still following her. Maybe he was just going to West End too? There were a lot of high end shops down there.
She made her way down the cobblestone path and then found the salon she had been referred to earlier that week. It had a pretty simple storefront, but it had an aura of richness and luxury around it. She took a deep breath before entering. She was going to make a big decision, and there was no going back.
She checked in with the secretary and then chose a small secluded corner to wait. She grabbed the nearest magazine and flipped through it. She didn't even notice when the shadow loomed over her or when somebody joined her in her little secluded corner.
"Ms. Granger? We have a stylist waiting for you," The secretary said aloud, and Hermione put her magazine down. She noticed Draco sitting next to her and raised her eyebrow at him. She stood up, and he did as well.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" She asked, crossing her arms. He shrugged his shoulders lazily, and began to walk after her. Hermione stopped again.
"Why are you following me?" She asked again, turning back around. Her eyes were shining, but she knew she looked livid. "I was curious," He replied, sitting back down.
The Temptation:
Draco sat back in the leather chair as she stalked off towards the stylist. Why exactly was he following her? Even he couldn't answer that. He didn't know what made him follow her. Maybe it was the way she smiled when she looked at her watch in the Atrium or maybe it was the way she was so eager to leave his presence.
He picked up the magazine she had been reading and flipped through the pages. When he was finished with that one, he continued on to the next one. He skimmed several magazines before he looked at the clock: she had been getting her hair cut for nearly an hour now. What was she doing? He continued to scan through magazines until he heard her voice as she finished paying. He got up and went to stand near her, but she had a jacket with a hood on. She was hiding her hair cut. Did it turn out bad? She didn't act like it did.
She glanced at him, but didn't say anything. She probably didn't think he would have stayed. Draco followed her out of the salon and down to the cobbles. "Where to next, Granger?" He asked, sliding his hands into his jumper's pocket. He heard her breath heavily next to him before she continued, "To a department store. I need to buy a dress for tonight."
Draco wanted to look at her haircut. What could have possible taken that long to do? He reached to move her hood, but she slapped his hand away with a grumble. Something sparked in his chest – his curiosity was eating away at his soul. He glared at her but followed her as she made her way through the maze of London streets.
They made their way to the dress section of the huge department store and almost instantly she walked around picking dresses off the racks; dresses with polka dots, flowers, and diagonal lines. Draco looked at her with a sense of foreboding. "What are you doing tonight?" He asked, fingering the fabric of a midnight blue silk. "I have a date!" She replied from the fitting room. A date? She's going to wear one of those on a date? This girl needed to sort her priorities out. Draco scuffed, but he still walked around the racks picking his own ideal dresses out. She couldn't be any bigger than a medium, he guessed. He pulled silks in every color, and glittery off the shoulder dresses. He pulled dresses that would flow, and dresses that would cling to her curves, if she had any. He walked to the fitting room and knocked on the door, causing her to cry out. "Granger, try these on." He yelled throwing them over the top of the door. Why was he helping her? He couldn't even answer his own question.
"Why?" She called back. He shook his head.
"Because nobody wears polka dots to a date," He replied. He heard her say something incoherent back with a sarcastic hitch in her throat but she took the dresses from him.
He waited for her to come out and show off the dresses, but she never did. For thirty minutes, he listened to the rustling of fabric, the zipping and unzipping of the dresses, and the labored breathing of her trying on dresses. He heard her gasp after the she had zipped another dress up. The rustle of the fabric sounded as she turned around in a circle and she giggled with delight. "Did you find one?" Draco called out. She didn't answer, and instead, walked out of the fitting room, with her sweatshirt and sunglasses back on. She was holding one of the dresses he had picked out – a strapless beige with a black lace covering the top. It was short, and would show off her legs with the right kind of shoes. She went to the counter and paid for it before she started walking towards the shoe department. Draco followed.
"Who are you going on this date with?" he asked as she started looking at the heels. He picked a patent leather pair up and held them out to her, but she shook her head. "You wouldn't know him." She replied, fingering a shiny pair of kitten heels. Draco shook his head this time. "Try me," He said, pointing to a pair of stilettos that were almost identical to the pair of kittens she liked. She smiled back at him, "His name is Adrian Frère. He went to the brother school of Beauxbatons." She slid off her own sensible heels from work and slid one of the stilettos on. She moved her ankle to the left and the right and then tried to stand up, but failed miserably. Draco grabbed her wrists and righted her, before helping her sit back down. "Oh," He replied, grabbing the kitten heels for her – they were a shorter height. She slid them on and walked around for a bit before saying something else. "Why are you helping me?" she asked, taking the heels off. She started walking towards the cash register and he followed. "I told you already. It's because I'm curious." Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't object. She walked outside of the store and made her way back to her flat to get ready for her date. Malfoy followed her still, unaware of where she was headed. She finally walked up the steps before turning around to him. "Is your curiosity sated yet? I'd like to go home and relax a bit before my date." Malfoy looked up at her and realized he had followed her to a residential area of Muggle London. "I…oh, sorry, I didn't recognize this area." She rolled her eyes, but motioned for him to come in anyways.
Her flat was small, yet spacious, like her office in the Ministry. Every bookshelf in the room was filled with books of every subject. She set some water to boil on the stove before telling him she was going to start getting ready. He nodded his head, but didn't take his eyes away from her book collection. The collection at the Manor was much more extensive but she had several titles that he didn't recognize. The sudden whistle from the kettle startled him. He turned towards the kitchen and realized that the water must be hot. He took it off the stove and set it on the counter. What did he do now? He wondered. He started looking through cabinets for tea and cups when he came across a picture of Granger and the Adrian person she mentioned.
He was the Adrian Frère that Draco had met several years ago. He hadn't been sure in the store, but now he was 100% positive it was him. Draco smiled to himself – if this was the Adrian he knew, and he was sure it was, then that meant that he hadn't told her his little secret. Of course, Draco didn't want to tell her, but he would help her uncover the truth if he could. Why not? It'd be a pretty tempting 'parking space' as his father would tell him.
