The Light and The Dark

Chapter 1: Meeting

A/N: This is my first fanfiction. Follow us on an adventure. Hopefully you'll like it enough to keep reading. It'll get more enthralling, this chapter is a little exposition-y. Rated M because of language and future sexual content.

The horizontal lines indicate a change in the narrator's focus: from Draco to Hermione. The idea being that when the narrator is following one of the characters, it expresses the emotion and knowledge of that character. I think it will become more important as the story progresses, especially as feelings develop.

Thanks for reading!

I don't own anything, all is JKR's.

He stood on the busy street corner watching people rush to work. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he looked up at the sky, exhaling slowly, trying to avoid other's wandering eyes. He was not entirely displeased – better to stand out than to blend in. And you could tell by the way he carried himself that he knew he stood out.

He wore a black collared shirt buttoned up to his neck, black trousers, and black leather boots. Odd, considering it was summer and the sun was just beginning to shine brightly in the sky. His fair blonde hair was longer than it had been when he was a boy, nearly reaching his shoulders. Subconsciously, he ran his hand through it, pushing it away from his face. The longer hair softened his pointy features, tan from a year spent in the sun of southern France. His eyes though, those striking steel blue eyes, were as harsh as they'd ever been. He took another drag, watched as the smoke disappeared into the air. He was killing time, early in his anticipation.

Suddenly, a body slamming into his side jerked him away from his reflective thought. It was a woman who had turned the corner too quickly. Her papers flew everywhere, her eyes quickly scanned him up and down.

"Oh, shit…." She muttered to herself. And then, making eye contact with the man she so harshly ran into, she flushed and looked down. "Oh Malfoy! I didn't see you... I'm so sorry. Please don't…"

"Stop," he cut her off, raised his hand to indicate his annoyance.

"Just watch where the fuck you're going next time," he mumbled through clenched teeth.

He shook her off. She scurried away, leaving her papers to fly into the intersection.

Bloody hell. I'm not ready for this. Draco thought, flicking the cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out with his heel.

It had been a week since he arrived back in London. He'd already tired of people avoiding him. They think he's a monster, a predator ready to devour his pray. Either fear or hatred is all he gets. Fear and hatred make him feel empty in the same way they used to make him feel powerful.

When they switched sides at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and his parents avoided a life in Azkaban. But they didn't get off without punishment. His parents were sentenced to house arrest for two years. During this time, they were not allowed to use magic, their wands taken away, their actions monitored by the Trace. To the heirs of one of the oldest pureblood families it Britain, the sentence was nearly worse than death. Draco had struck a deal with the Ministry, he was not on house arrest nor deprived of his magical abilities. Instead, Draco had promised to continue his education under the supervision of a Ministry approved tutor.

When the war ended, the Manor was seized by the Ministry. Lucius and Narcissa were permitted to collect some of their prized possessions and family heirlooms, but the reminder of the wealth located in the manor was sold at auctions, the funds paid to the families of victims of the war. Without a place to call home in London, the Malfoys retreated to their county estate in the south of France. Here, they lived a peaceful, if not completely boring, life. Narcissa tended the garden and gossiped with a few friends given permission by the Ministry to visit while Lucius read and wallowed. Malfoy went to class with his ministry-approved-tutor everyday from 9 to 5. In the evenings, he would wander around the country-side. It was because of his ridiculously mundane existence that Draco decided to move back to London once his schooling was complete.

And so there he stood, on a busy corner during the morning rush to work, smoking a cigarette and sneering at the passer-bys. It was nearly time. If you asked him whether he was nervous, he would have told you Malfoys are never nervous because Malfoys are always prepared. Truthfully though, he felt the familiar knot in his stomach created from a swarm of butterflies wrestling with one another as he descended the stairs to the toilets.

"Are you nervous Hermione?"

"No, Ronald. I'm only about to start the first day of the rest of my life. Why on earth would I possibly be nervous?"

"Touchy aren't we?" Ron replied, looking to Harry for some support. He had just asked an innocent question, hadn't he?

"Look, don't be nervous Hermione. You'll be with Kingsley all day. He'll watch out for you," Harry reassured her.

"Right," She knew her voice sounded confident, but Hermione was anything but.

The three best friends are walking through a quiet muggle neighbourhood on their way to the Ministry. Because it was Hermione's first day, and she was admittedly a bit nervous, Harry had offered to walk her to work. Ron had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing Hermione had actually been to the Ministry before, many times, and under much more stressful circumstances. But something about the early morning walk made Hermione feel peaceful. And so, together, they walked.

"I wonder who the other trainees will be?" Hermione asked for the hundredth time as they neared the entrance to the toilets.

"Hermione, you know we're not allowed to tell you that. Besides, Kingsley only told us about one of the trainees. He kept really tight-lipped about the other," Harry explained.

"So there's three of us. Maybe the other one will be another girl!" Hopefulness transparent in Hermione's voice. It wasn't that she didn't like hanging out with the guys, she just always felt like she lacked real female friends. One would be a good place to start.

"I doubt it," Ron replied.

Hermione cast him a threatening glare.

"What!? Tonks was the only female Auror in the last century who lasted more than a week or two," Ron exclaimed. "And you of course. You defiantly will too," he added for good measure.

After the war, after everything had settled down a bit, Harry and Ron had both began Auror training. Because the stringent qualifications to go into the profession had been lessened following the war, Harry and Ron's lack of N.E.W.T.s did not prevent them being accepted. In fact, it hadn't prevented many eager young students. Kingsley had declared, following the war, that any individual who had successfully fought in the Battle of Hogwarts met the qualifications necessary to become an Auror. Excited at the prospects, a few dozen students had enrolled in the intensive program. Few, however, made it past the first year. Some failed because they became exhausted, others because they didn't enjoy the work, and some because they simply weren't skilled enough. Left behind from the new recruits were Harry and Ron, two Hufflepuffs from their year, and a Ravenclaw from the year above.

While the boys learned how to fight the bad guys, Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts, back to her former home. She completed her seventh year. Now, as she began preparing herself for the future, she placed her personal ambitions aside, choosing instead to join the Aurors in their attempt to put away any remaining Death Eaters.

As they walked down the stairs toward their separate entrances to the Ministry, Harry paused and hugged Hermione.

"Don't worry. You'll do great. We'll see you at lunch," Harry reassured, stepping away and into the queue for the men's toilets.

Ron gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, and bid her good luck. As Ron took his place behind Harry, Hermione took her place amongst the women.

Following an unpleasant journey down the sewer, Hermione walked into the Ministry for the first time in nearly a year. It looks different, she thought.

A new large statue stood in the centre of the lobby; gone was the celebration of pure blood supremacy and domination over muggles which had occupied the space before. In its place stood a circular disk atop which stood a wizard and witch with cloaks and wands as well as a muggle man and woman, the woman carrying a stack of books, the man dressed in a military uniform. Beside the man and woman was a centaur with his bow and a fully dressed elf. A goblin carrying a fine jewel completed the circle. In the centre was a single column of light, illuminating the faces of the statues, reaching above and disappearing into the glass of the window ceiling. The light filled Hermione with hope. It was then she noticed the inscription written at the base of the statue: "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of places if one only remembers to turn on the light". Hermione sighed, remembering the old wizard who's words were here quoted. His crescent shaped glasses, his long white beard. His words now stood as a reminder, the Ministry, the headquarters of magic in Britain, was the source of the light, that which eliminated the darkest of worlds and created happiness and peace.

"Admiring our new statue, are you?" The low voice heard to her right startled Hermione, lost in her own thoughts.

"Oh, Kingsley! I hadn't seen you come up. It's beautiful", Hermione replied.

"Good to see you again Hermione. I trust you're well?" Kingsley stood now facing Hermione, extending his hand in greeting.

"Very well, sir. And you?"

"Good as can be," Kingsley said, turning now to face away from the statue, toward the elevators filled with arriving workers. "The others should be here any minute and then we'll get started. Ah! Here's one of them now." Kingsley gestured to a young wizard approaching the duo.

Hermione took a moment to size him up. He was clad in a flamboyant looking dark purple suit, had curly auburn hair, freckles and a wide grin. If she hadn't know any better, she would have bet he was the Wesley's long-lost cousin.

"Mr. Morris, pleasure to see you again. May I introduce you to Miss. Hermione Granger," Kingsley said as the man, Morris apparently, came closer. Kingsley gestured to Hermione, "Miss. Granger, Mr. Alexius Morris".

"Just Alex is good," Alexius said, extending his hand to shake Hermione's.

"Pleasure," Hermione replied.

"Well then, there's just one more. Fewer than last year, probably a good thing, we had our hands full with that lot", Kingsley explained, looking around for his last student and spotting him just entering the Ministry. "And here we are," he continued, gesturing now to a certain fair haired, darkly dressed young man who, with an air of confidence boarding on cockiness, walked up to the group. Hermione couldn't help but gape, eyes wide in horror as she evaluated the man approaching them.

"You've got to be kidding me," she murmured under her breath, certain that another person, the real person toward whom Kingsley was gesturing, would step out from behind her former classmate any second now.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy, good to see you. This is Alexius Morris, and I trust you remember Hermione Granger from Hogwarts," Kingsley said by way of introduction.

Just as Draco began to shake hands with Morris, Hermione's voice caused him to pause.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you've got to be kidding me. Draco Malfoy!? He's a Death Eater," Hermione said, clearly alarmed, clearly pissed.

"Nice to see you again too, Granger," Draco snapped, fixing his face with his signature sneer. "Oh, and you can take your hand off your wand now. I'm pretty sure Shacklebolt won't let me hex you in the middle of the Ministry."

Hermione flushed. She hadn't even realized her hand had instinctively fallen to her cloak pocket, the one which held her wand.

"Miss. Granger, I would like to remind you that Mr. Malfoy is a former Death Eater who has proven himself worthy of this position, just as you have" Kingsley scorned, causing Hermione's cheeks to blush deeper.

Malfoy smirked, "besides, who better to catch a death eater than a death eater turned Auror?"

Literally anyone else. Hermione thought, she kept her mouth quiet though, wanting to avoid further disruptions.

"I feel like I'm missing something here," Alex piped up, he had hung back quietly and watched the nearly volatile exchange between his two new colleagues.

"There's no time to explain now. You'll have many opportunities to become fully acquainted with one another as your training commences. For now, we are already running late. For our first lessons, we'll be heading to the dungeons. Follow me." Kingsley proceeded to lead the three new Aurors to a near by elevator, where they began slowly to descend into the depths of the Ministry.

Draco took the moment of quiet to size up the situation. He knew Potter and the Weasel would become Aurors, but he never thought Granger would. More brains than bronze, he'd have thought her self-righteous attitude would have prompted her to do something more intellectual. It's not that he liked Granger the least of the famous trio, just that he hated her the most. That snobby, pretentious, know-it-all had made his life shit at school. And now, the thought of another three years standing by her side was far from palatable.

Draco considered quitting, right there, on the spot, before the lesson even started. But, then that would be foolish. And Malfoys were never foolish. He had worked hard to arrive at this place in his life, and he wouldn't give it up. He wanted this more than anything, and no Granger could stop him.

He had always dreamed of being an Auror, but the life he was born into interfered with those goals. Being a Death Eater was a kind of similar except it involved fighting for the wrong side. All Draco wanted now was to be good, to prove he could be good: good enough for himself, good enough for anyone. He hated himself. Hated what he had allowed himself to become.

For the last few years, he felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. Everything he had been raised to believed had proved false. Everyone he loved had been almost lost. Everything he thought he was, it was just an illusion.

Now, Draco had to build a self, a new self, from scratch; a man he was not afraid to be, a man he was not ashamed to be. And he knew building a new self would be tough work. He thought the first place to start was the last place anyone would expect to see him. A Ministry job, an Auror at that.

The opening of the Elevator doors and the mechanical voice announcing: "Basement Level 10: Courtrooms", snapped Draco from his thoughts of quitting.

The group stepped out of the elevator into a narrow black hallway, one which Draco had spent a fair bit of time in before his trial at the Ministry a year before.

"Welcome to the courtrooms of the Ministry of Magic", Kingsley's deep voice echoed through the enclosed space. "Just down this hall here are a group of cells where we keep prisoners from Azkaban who have upcoming trials. This will be the location of your first lesson. Now, can any of you tell me what's special about these cells?" Kingsley regarded his young students, not surprised when he saw Hermione's hand raise above her head from the corner of his eye.

"No need to raise your hand Miss. Granger. What do you know?" Kingsley smiled at her pleasantly while Draco hid a grin. Always the goody-goody, raising her hand.

"The cells at the Ministry of Magic are protected by the Hades Charm which prevents any person from using magic within the cells" Hermione stated clearly.

Draco sneered. He knew the answer as well, she was just quicker to the punch.

"Very good Miss. Granger. The Hades Charm can be used on any enclosed space to ensure that those within the space will be unable to use magic – wands will not work, wandless magic will not work, potions will not take effect, animagus cannot form," with this, Kingsley winked at Hermione. Draco couldn't help but wonder whether she had become an animagus in her last year at Hogwarts? But, before he had time to ponder the idea, Kingsley continued, "No magic what-so-ever. Except, of course, this book." At that, Kingsley held up a small, black leather book.

"Each page in the book has written on it a set of instructions. Only after one set of instructions have been followed completely, does the next page of instructions appear. To demonstrate the use of the book, please follow me," Again, Kingsley lead the group further into the depths of the Ministry, this time, pausing outside a large metal door frame.

With the flick of his wand and no doubt a lengthy unlocking charm whispered under his breath, the door swung open, revealing the small dark cell Draco had come to know. The three new students entered the cell, Kingsley keeping himself just outside the door. The three took a moment to look around.

The dark room was about eight feet wide, eight feet across. There was no source of light inside save the small square of white which acted as its ceiling. The walls ran upwards, extending, Draco thought, as high as the eleven floors of the Ministry. The opening was clearly just a large blank space, revealing the sky above. It made escape seem both possible and entirely impossible, and the imposing never-ending sky-high walls made the small cell feel even more isolating. Draco, the most acquainted with the space, was also the first to turn back to Kingsley, giving him a quizzical look as he wondered what they were going to do.

With that look, Kingsley handed Draco the small black book. Quickly he said, "You will find the first instruction on page one. You may now begin your first lesson."

And with those words, Kingsley shut the door, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoed. Draco looked around quickly, seeing nothing but pitch black. Stuck. Trapped. He was trapped in the cell again. Panic filled him as he felt his heart beat quickly straining to break free from the walls of his rib cage.

"Well.. shit.." Alex's voice rang clear through the silence. And Draco realized he would be forced to spend the next however many hours in a dungeon with Hermione Granger.