A/N: Hello All, I own nothing it all belongs to the talented J.K. Rowling. I had started this story with several chapters already written. However, the course of things has changed dramatically in a way I didn't think they would. Because of that I have decided to re-write what I already have up and revamp this. This story will have smut, violence, betrayal and all sorts of triggered stuff. I just want to let everyone know in advance.
The clock kept ticking on the wall, although it seemed time had stood still. Two young men sat side by side across an old metal desk that had more than its share of scratches and dings. It looked as though the last people in here had been ripped away and they had clawed across it to hang onto their freedom for mere seconds longer. The men were of similar height and build, mid-twenties. Both were tall and of average muscular build, clean shaven, and well kept. The one with dark brown hair kept a calm gaze in his hazel eyes, although the twitch in the muscle of his jaw gave away his agitation. However, the young man with the bright blonde hair clearly showed his anger in his expression. His grey eyes glared daggers through the people sitting across from them.
"So effectively you're blackmailing us?" The dark haired man said in an even tone.
A smile formed across the smooth face of the dark skinned man in front of him. "Of course not Mr. Nott. I have merely offered you and Mr. Malfoy a, shall we say, opportunity."
Theodore looked over at Draco, and back toward the Minister of Magic, Kingsley. They had no choice really, but to take this 'opportunity'. Theodore and Draco were partners in an investment firm that dealt with both wizarding and muggle money. Started by Draco's father and given to both of them to handle and take over. They had been doing well the last five years, even in dealings with muggles, money was money. It was beyond good money. They had made a small fortune, and were continuing to build the company. The catch? Lucius Malfoy had recently been hospitalized in St. Mungo's with a malady that had affected his mind. Draco had been deigned his heir, and received all the fortunes, estates, and businesses. However, a simple yet random and effective audit by the Ministry on Lucius Malfoy's interests had revealed large amounts of money being funneled to a previously unknown group. Apparently the group was a Pureblood resistance force hoping to regain control of the Ministry.
The previous war had left many destitute in the pureblood community. Those who weren't in jail were scraping to get by. Some had managed to come out on top as always, others were not so fortunate. The Malfoys had been spared simply because of Narcissa's actions in the last battle. Theodore was pardoned due to his own separation from his grandfather. Although he himself had not been involved with the Dark Lord, his family fortune had been forfeit due to his grandfather's involvement. He managed to keep from begging only because Lucius Malfoy had stepped in and offered him and Draco this firm.
"What exactly are you offering?" Theodore asked, already imagining the creative bullshit they were about to hear.
"I'm glad you asked Mr. Nott." Kingsley opened a file and slid it across the table to the pair," You see this group, The Seventh Legion, as they call themselves. They seem to think they can infiltrate the Ministry and bring it down from within. Your father, Mr. Malfoy, gave them countless amounts of financial aid. Now that he is instituted at St. Mungo's, they will still be looking for the support." He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. "Support they will now turn to you for."
Draco finally looked up his eyes unable to meet Kingsley's harsh look. "I fail to see where this involves me."
"Mr. Malfoy, your father has not only committed an illegal crime, but also an ethically egregious misstep. I would imagine the Wizengamot would be quick to send down a judgment for Azkaban. Even more so I would think they may even sentence him to be executed" He paused briefly allowing his words to settle. Draco felt his heart drop, he swallowed profusely holding back his outburst that seemed to dance at the back of his throat.
"He's mad. My father has lost his mind and is living in a padded room in that shithole you call a hospital. You're telling me they are going to toss him to the dementors, when the man can barely feed himself?" Draco slammed his fist down angrily, the sound reverberating around the room.
Kingsley let a small sigh. "Malfoy, no one cares that he is unwell. They will want swift justice if this is brought to light. If." That last if held in the air around them, a small word with a vast meaning.
Draco suddenly seemed weary, a shadow crossing his face. "What do you want from us?"
The older wizard eased back in his seat, surprised at how quickly the young Malfoy seemed to understand the circumstances.
"We need someone to give us information on this group. They will undoubtedly come to you, and you will give them the support they ask for. You will gather any and all information regarding them and give it to us. In exchange these charges against your father will never be brought before the Wizengamot. When we have effectively crushed this intolerant insurgency, we will erase the accusations and no one shall ever be the wiser."
Theodore let out a grunt. "How do you propose this even will work? Draco has no reason to be in contact with you. Don't you imagine these people will find it a bit suspicious that he's hanging about the Ministry eating biscuits with the Minister?"
"Of course Mr. Nott; that is shy we have thoroughly invested into this and corrected any problem areas. Mr. Malfoy will be taking a top position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. His father was politically influential; it would be natural to think the son is as well. In fact, it will help his cause as the organization will believe this can be used to their advantage."
Draco's fists clenched, his lungs inhaled deeply and he managed to get a glare directly into the Minister's eyes. "You're asking me to be a spy, against people I grew up with or around, and to betray them?"
"Yes, to keep your father alive."
"If they find out they will kill me. If and I do mean IF I choose to do this, you have to give me something viable to tell them. If you give me bullshit information and they find out, they'll know and I'll be dead."
The Minister nodded in agreement, "Of course Malfoy. We would not risk that. I am willing to commit anything necessary in order to shut this organization down, rest assured."
Draco threw a sharp nod toward Theodore. "What exactly does Nott have to do with this?"
"Why Malfoy, Mr. Nott is complicit in this. After all, he co-owns a company that was used to fund pureblood retaliation. No one would believe he wasn't involved. Also you could perhaps gain some or all of your family's inheritance back with cooperation of course." Kingsley gave a pointed stare at Theodore, who's eyes hardened instantly.
He gave a short laugh, "My family's inheritance was decimated long ago, when your Ministry went on its literal witch hunt. Please don't insult my intelligence. We're both fucked, so I'm helping Draco because when you left me destitute, his family stepped in."
Kingsley tapped his fingers lightly on the cool metal, his eyes never leaving Theodore's. "Very well. If you're in agreement gentlemen, I will see you next Monday Mr. Malfoy. You will report to the Head of your department. All information gathered will be given to them or myself directly. Have a good evening gentlemen."
He did not extend his hand toward either of them and it would not have mattered anyway. Neither of them spoke as they quickly exited the room. The large metal door slammed shut behind them, as it did another one opened and two more people walked in. The young woman took a seat, while the man stood, his arms folded across his chest.
"Hermione, Harry." Kingsley smiled warmly at both of them
"I do believe we have found our way into the Seventh Legion through Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott. Hermione, Malfoy will be working under you, I know he is incorrigible but I have no doubt that you will be able to deal with him." Hermione did not say it, but she doubted the effectiveness of this course of action, but did they really have any other recourse? They were desperate to put an end to this nuisance group. If this would do it, she would see it through.
Kingsley turned his attention to Harry. "I want to keep you aware of the situation. I will need the Auror office on high alert at all times. We don't know when we could have a major breakthrough. It could be weeks, months or even years, but when it comes we need to be ready. I know this is difficult but we have to do whatever I takes to end this madness once and for all." He stood, and gave both of them a steady handshake. "I'm counting on you Miss Granger."
Hermione watched him walk out the door before turning around to look at Harry. Harry kept the worried look off his face. "Ron won't like Malfoy being around you."
Hermione nodded quietly, "I know, but he will understand."
"Just keep your guard up Hermione. I don't trust any of this. I think it's a mistake."
Hermione pushed her chair under the table and opened the door, "I agree, but if we can beat these people at their own game, it's worth the risk."
Miles and hours away, two young dark-haired women in their early to mid-twenties, sat inside a small muggle café. Their conversation was barely existent. The elder had medium brown hair, with blue eyes and slender build. The younger was curvier, with dark as night hair and green piercing eyes. They both were fair-skinned, the younger one more pale. They both stared daggers at the other before the younger finally spoke.
"I got your note." It was simply stated.
"How are you Astoria?" The older girl asked, her voice attempting concern.
"Don't you dare," Astoria snarled out. "Don't even attempt that shit with me Daphne."
Daphne gave a surprised look at her little sister, who years earlier had been so meek. "A sister can't express concern?"
Astoria could not contain her cynical laugh. "Concern? Where was the concern when your sister was thrown out into the world? When the Ministry came for everything and took it. I had nothing, Daphne. Nothing. I was starving, alone and not even a damn knut to my name."
Daphne pursed her lips, she felt a twinge of guilt, she hadn't meant to leave Astoria in such a position but she had been on the run from the Ministry at the time. "Astoria I'm sor-"
"Save it." The short reply came with a curt voice. "What the hell do you want Daphne? It's been three years since I last heard from you."
The question hung between them. The waitress brought them both a cup of tea, and her voice cut the tension briefly.
"Anything else Miss?" she asked kindly.
"No!" Daphne spit out and the girl looked startled. She gave Daphne a dirty look before turning around and leaving the two sisters alone again.
"I need your help."
"Help? If it's money, forget it. I still don't have shit. You should come by sometime and see the hellhole that is my flat. It's really privileged Daphne."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Get over yourself you spoiled, little princess. We have all had it hard after the war. I lost everything too, you know."
She stirred her tea, dumping in two cubes of sugar.
"I need your help getting into the Ministry, Astoria. My group is trying to reform the laws, help us all out. I can't do that without someone connected in there."
Astoria stared at her sister as if she had grown two heads. "I'm an assistant to the last guy on the totem pole in the Department of Magical Transportation, Daphne. I'm not sure what use I can do for you. Sorry." She stood up to leave, grabbing her jacket off the back of the chair.
"There's going to be an opening in the Department of Magical Cooperation."
Astoria stopped. "Just listen to me please, Astoria."
Astoria closed her eyes, trying to block out her sister's plea. Whatever this was she wanted nothing to do with it. She just wanted to be left in peace.
"Please."
Astoria groaned and plopped back down in the seat. She motioned her sister on.
"How do you know there's going to be an opening."
"Because the old assistant just wrote a letter of resignation on the grounds of improper conduct to the Head of that Department." Daphne gave her a pointed look.
"What have you done to her?"
Daphne shrugged, "She's been invaluable for information."
Nothing more was said, and Astoria chose not to push it.
"If you get the position, we could have someone inside with access to files, records, all kinds of information that could be valuable to us. Yes, I know it's a different office, but you would still be in the same building as the law enforcement." Daphne gave her sister a pleading face.
"We need this sis. God knows we are desperate."
Astoria pushed the lemon down into her tea, drowning it, like she wanted to do to Daphne.
"You have the guts after years of nothing, to ask me for help?"
Daphne did not reply.
Astoria stared at the brown liquid, watching the swirls move around in her cup. "I'll try Daphne; I can't promise anything." She pushed her cup back without looking at her sister. She walked out of the café and slammed the door behind her, the little bell rattling in protest.
Daphne threw some money down on the table, and she too left. Neither girl saw the man on the bench whose newspaper was slightly odd. The man had seen them though, and that was certainly enough.
The week between that fateful meeting with Kingsley had flown by. Draco stood in the marble atrium at the Ministry, his eyes flitting around at the flurry of activity about him. He could feel the strange looks being cats towards him, looks he paid no mind to. He quickly approached an elevator and slid inside. Once he announced his destination it jerked forward, and Draco almost felt queasy at its short, choppy motions. It came to a sudden, jolting stop, and Draco lurched outward onto the floor. He caught his balance, and stood quickly pressing the creases out of his suit. He had arrived on the seventh floor. There was bustle of activity already and it was barely 8 a.m. He followed the signs down one of the corridors that directed him to the Department Head's office. There was no one at the desk outside the office, so Draco let himself in. Presumptuous, absolutely, but he would not be flattened over by these insufferable bastards.
He sat down stiffly in the plush black armchair. The room gave little to who inhabited it during the workday. There were no pictures of any family. Just some odd Knick knacks, and a hideous looking flowerpot with Marigolds overflowing from it. Suddenly the door opened and shut behind him. He did not turn around; he wasn't giving them any more effort than necessary. The smell of perfume wafted through the air. A soft honey, with a hint of almond to it. Draco inwardly groaned. A woman. He was going to have to work under a self-righteous she-bitch who would no doubt be as incompetent as most of the men in this place. Her footsteps clicked behind him, until she passed by seating herself easily at her desk.
Draco's nose scrunched up in disgust.
"You?"
The woman glanced at him, her brown hair falling in waves with little patches of frizz here and there.
"Yes, Malfoy. Me. I'm as thrilled as you are to be here." Her sarcasm did not fall short.
"I won't do this. I will not deal with you, Granger."
Hermione giggled obnoxiously, "You're a silly twit. You don't have an option unless you want to lose your father. Do you think I'm enjoying this? Far from it. We both have a job, so let's get it on with it." She motioned to the small booklet in front of her.
"These are the rules and regulations of this department. You will follow them. You will be on time and you will actually do this job. Kingsley might have thrown you in here for bigger reasons than politics, but you won't come into my department and throw it on its head or disrupt our progress."
She took a breath and continued on quickly before he could interrupt. "There are 'two heads' to this Department. I oversee it all, but Mr. Thomas Herring deals in trades with other nations specifically. You will work with both of us, however I am your final supervisor. You will deal mainly with the political aspects of matters. I will expect you to attend to paperwork, be at any events, and be professional. If you think I will tolerate you undermining me, think again. I will go to Kingsley, and I will put a stop to it." Her eyes gave him a look that would have cut him in two had it been a knife.
Hermione gave him no time to respond. She stood up and briskly marched over to a door on the left side of the room. It opened into a medium sized space with eight to ten cubicles. "Your office is in here. The top members of this department work in here. Mr. Herring's office is on the other side; I expect you to behave for him as well." She nodded at a little twig of a man who came running.
Draco turned to say something about 'behaving' as if he were some sort of dog, only to find her door slammed in his face. He spun around clearly agitated. In front of him stood the little twig man, "Yes?" he snapped out.
The little man fidgeted with his glasses nervously. "I'm to show you to your workspace, sir." His unmatched clothing and pathetic demeanor made Draco roll his eyes. Obviously he was working with the 'cream of the crop' here. He followed Twigg, as he now deemed the little anxious man, around a corner. A fairly large cubicle was in front of him. Twigg motioned to Draco, and Draco strode passed him dismissing him. He threw his large cloak over the back of the chair and sat down. He looked around the room at the people who were throwing him curious glances. He shifted his eyes to the first file on his desk. The Waterford Report on Albanian Diplomatic Procedures. Draco could feel his soul dying already. If these morons went back on this deal to save his father, he would crush them himself. Feeling satisfied with his inner threat, he flung the file open and began the tedious chore of pretending to give a shit about Albanian policies.