Thanks for clicking! Hope you enjoy chapter one!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story. That would be J.K. Rowling (and if she is reading this right now in order to sue me, I don't care because that means fucking J.K. Rowling read my story, the brilliant genius writer that she is).

Author's note at the end!


"This, Mr. Malfoy, we assure you, is your best option," the man said, his nose scrunching up as he looked down at Draco over-top his spectacles. His eyes were the color of the mud pies Draco used to make in the backyard when his parents weren't home.

"As if I have a choice at all," Draco muttered, his arms clenching the sides of the chair he sat in in the middle of the room, the various judges positioned all around him in varying locations and heights. He fought the urge to tighten his tie, striped with green and silver. Instead, he focused on the man front and center with the muddy eyes.

"You could always serve a term in Azkaban alongside your father and all the other known Death Eaters. However, your actions leading up to and after the final Battle of Hogwarts have shown us that you would, perhaps, be much more useful outside of a cell." That was true, but it didn't make the idea any less stupid. In what world would this work? And with her? He had it worst out of everyone, he was sure. This was, quite possibly, his worst nightmare. And all because of who his father was. All his friends were paired with strangers, never someone who personally hated them. As much a nightmare as it may be, though, Azkaban would be worse.

Draco closed his eyes, his head forward. His hands loosened their grip on the arms of his seat and folded in his lap. When he looked up at the judge on the high stands, his eyes were ice.

"Where do I sign?"


Hermione walked down the hallway, her heels clicking against the tile with every step. It reflected the fluorescent light into her eyes, although there were no light sources to be seen. Charmed, no doubt. She smoothed her skirt as a cover to wipe off her hands, then straightened her jacket. How long had it been since she last wore tights? Not since Sunday school with her parents, back before Hogwarts, she thought.

Her body had changed immensely from the tiny third-grader who used to squeeze into the terrible panty-hose, spewing complaints and purposefully tearing holes in them. They were just as much of a bother now, though. Her legs grew goosebumps beneath the silky sheen, agreeing with her. She wasn't much for second skins.

A man stood in front of a door, checking his watch, before he caught her eye. A small smile splayed across his face.

"Miss Granger. So thankful you've come today." The man held out his hand to her and Hermione had to hold back the urge to wipe her hands again before she shook it.

"I don't think I had much of a choice. When the Ministry of Magic himself sends an order for your appearance at a special, secret meeting, you sort of have to come," she said, and she masked the crack in her voice with a laugh. The man laughed along with her.

"I suppose so." He turned toward the door and opened it for her. "Come right in."

Hermione found herself in a small, square room. A mahogany desk stood front and center before a huge picture window that led out to a clearing filled with an array of multicolored flowers, obviously charmed; they were hundreds of feet underground.

A man sporting a handlebar mustache and eyes that reminded her of freshly brewed coffee sat at the desk and appraised her with a grin. He stood from his desk and offered her his hand and, this time, she didn't feel the need to wipe sweat off of them. The room was colored in warm tones, with vases of flowers and piles of books scattered throughout. The wrinkles around his eyes reminded her of the ones her own father had sprouted in recent years, and his lack of a suit jacket and tie (although he did still wear a button up) gave him an air of relaxation. Stepping into the room was like stepping into her own home.

"I'm Garrett Casey, most recently appointed Minister of Magic, as I'm sure you're aware," Hermione nodded, and opened her mouth to speak. "No introductions needed, Miss Granger. I'm well aware who you are. It's truly an honor to finally make your acquaintance. The brains of the dynamic duo, Gryffindor's fierce lioness; you are quite the celebrity nowadays." He took her small hand, unpolished and a bit dry, between his two hulking, monstrous appendages. A smile spread across Hermione's face to match his.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir!" He dropped his hand and gestured for her to sit in one of the open seats in front of his desk before nodding to the first man who'd let Hermione in. He nodded back and left the room.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Granger, I assure you. I have been excited all day to finally meet the savior of the Wizarding World!" His voice projected in the small room and echoed across the walls, sounding like he was on all sides of her.

"Please, sir, it's really nothing. It was barely me at all, really. Harry did the bulk of the work. I was just there for moral support and to throw the occasional hex," Hermione said with a chuckle, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

"Nonsense! You were the true leader of those boys. Without you, they'd have been lost, the lot of them! You saved every wizard and witch in the world from a rather dark fate, Miss Granger. That's something to be proud of." He flashed a smile, tilting his head to the side. Her chest warmed and she could feel a blush spread across her cheek.

"Well, thank you." A smile graced her lips, similar to the one Casey wore. "Now, I'm sure you didn't call me all the way down here to flatter me! What did you want to speak to me about?" Casey nodded and brought his hands out in front of him, folding them together on his desk. Professionalism replaced jubilance in his eyes, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a degree or two.

"Yes. I was hoping to delay the real manner of this meeting as long as possible. I've been in and out of these meetings all day and, I have to say, I'm a bit exhausted." He let off a yawn and rubbed at his eyes before returning his hands to their folded position in front of him.

"As I'm sure you already know," he continued, "trials of known Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathizers have been going on since the final Battle of Hogwarts last year." Hermione nodded. "Recently, one of our younger workers here at the Ministry had a brilliant idea for, not just punishment for crimes of war on a slightly more lowly level, but also for rehabilitation of the toxic state of mind that led to these past two Wizarding Wars in the first place." Ah! So that was why they'd called her in. A grin spread her lips wide, and she sat up straight in her seat.

"Yes! That's what I've been saying would be the best approach. I've been trying to set up a meeting with someone here at the Ministry for quite a while, actually, but all my appointments kept getting pushed back. Understandably so, I know. You've all got enough on your hands without me breathing down your backs. Which is why I was so excited when I got your summons!"

"Well-" Casey started, but Hermione cut him off, not even noticing he had begun to speak.

"I certainly hadn't expected to be spoken to by the Minister of Magic himself, but I'm glad to get the chance. You see, we can't just let these offenders back into the world with all their prejudices still in tact to keep on breeding and raising more children to be just as prejudiced! We should set up some kind of mandatory class, regardless of other punishments, for all offenders. I have a bunch of estimates on prices and projections on time to construct such establishments, with suggestions of teachers, and-"

"Miss Granger!" Casey interrupted. The wrinkles around his eyes were deep from his smile, and his eyes filled with mirth. He let out a laugh. "I greatly appreciate your enthusiasm, but, you see, we've already come to these same conclusions."

"Oh," Hermione said, and the spark disappeared from her eyes. "Why am I here, then?"

"We have already decided that the best path in reconstruction of society is to go at the root of these poisonous viewpoints and cut them off at the source in the form of rehabilitation rather than incarceration. We wish to lose as few productive members of society as possible in the wake of this tragedy."

"Exactly!" Hermione smiled.

"Our plan is slightly different, however. Unfortunately, with the cost of war reparations, the Ministry is low on funds. We find ourselves forced to look to already existing resources to rehabilitate war criminals. More specifically, we are looking to the Muggle-born witches and wizards amongst us.

"We want to assign a Muggle-born witch or wizard to a known prejudiced pureblood, who is decidedly non-violent might I add, and urge them to live amongst the Muggles. They will live together for two months, then be evaluated for any progress. If none has occurred, it will stretch out to another month with another evaluation at the end, and then so on as needed." Casey leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched her.

"Hm," Hermione said. She paused a moment. Her fingers tapped on her knee to some unheard beat. "Sounds effective. If you can find witches and wizards willing to have a person who hates them live in their home for an extended period of time." She forced a laugh out of her mouth. Her knee bounced up and down in time to the sporadic tapping of her fingers, and her eyes searched the room for anything to look at besides the bitter, coffee eyes of the Minister.

"Luckily, we haven't had much trouble in that area. Everyone seems just as eager to reduce bigotry as we are." Hermione could feel the sweat returning to her hands as heat spread up her neck. She fumbled with her legs, suddenly unable to find a comfortable resting position.

"I am glad you have come to such a concise plan, Minister, and that you thought to relay it to me as I had been inquiring for quite some time. I'm truly glad to know!" She flashed her teeth, sitting up in her chair, preparing to stand. "But if that's all you need from me, I really should be-"

"Please, Miss Granger, reclaim your seat." Casey said, gesturing at the chair she was half out of. She sighed before she slumped back into her chair, and her face fell.

"You know we wouldn't be asking such a thing of you if we didn't think it was necessary."

"I just-" She sighed again. Her hands rubbed at her eyes. Thank god she had decided against makeup today. "Don't you think I've done enough for the Wizarding World already?" She looked up from her hands and looked him straight in his eyes. She could see the bags beneath his irises, the white pallor of his complexion. It was all familiar. They were details she saw in her own face every time she looked in the mirror. Everyone was tired nowadays.

"You have, Miss Granger. We all know it. And you should know I feel terrible for asking such a thing of you in the first place, but these are desperate times. And, like it or not, you will always play a key role in wizarding politics. You will always be under constant scrutiny; always a role model. That is why I need you and why you know you need to do this." Assumptuous words for someone she'd just met. But he's right, her mind chided her. The world would always be watching the best friend of the Boy Who Lived. At least she wasn't actually him; at least there was that.

"You know I'll say yes. I just don't want to. I have to agree, especially when it's the very sort of thing that I've been asking for." Hermione sighed, and her eyes fell to look at the floor. Her shoulders raised, though, and she snapped her gaze back to his. "I'm not doing anything happily. Just so you know." These words elicited a chuckle from him, but his eyes were still cold. There was more.

"There is just one final thing I needed to relay to you before you discuss details with Paul." Hermione's stomach dropped. She had to fight the urge to bolt out of the room before he could say whatever it was that he was going to say.

"Because you will be in the public eye, we at the Ministry believe it is imperative we find the best candidate for you as possible." Hermione nodded. His voice was muffled and her skin prickled, like she was underwater. Who was the one person the Minister could be talking about? The one who'd make the biggest splash; the best example for all the Wizarding World to be paired with Gryffindor's Princess?

"This candidate would be Draco Malfoy," Casey said. Well, shit.


Author's Note:

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed Chapter One of this story! I'm sort of a new writer on this site, but that is no excuse to "go easy on me" as so many "new" writers wish. I am not a new writer. Just because this is one of the first stories I've written for this site, it doesn't mean it is even close to one of the first stories I've ever written. So, please, be mean and harsh! Tell me what I did wrong, what I did right, what you liked, what you didn't! Any and all reviews are welcome, good or bad. It means, after all, you've read and had an emotional reaction strong enough to constitute a few minutes of your time and a short bout of furious keyboard pounding.

About the story, this is an idea that's been bouncing around my head for quite a while. With so many stories on these two Hogwarts Hornballs (Oh my god that's the best phrase ever, I am officially trademarking that phrase as the new ship name for Draco and Hermione) floating around the internet, it's hard to come up with a unique idea. I've tried writing these two before, but it has always turned into a terrible cliched monstrosity full of overused Dramione tropes. God. Let's forget those ever happened. Anyway, this is M for future chapters (now there's one thing I've never written! SEX. We'll see how that goes). As with any story I post here, the more reviews I get (which prove to me that there are readers at all), the faster I will update. Thanks everyone! See you in a week :) Stay classy,

-babyemery