DIS: Mmm...I wanted to try my hand at a Dramione fic. I can only find PWP stories for them. It's rather irritating.
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Title: Change
Rating: K and Up
Genre: General
Summary: Hermione was no fool. She knew that Draco Malfoy had not changed, that even though she and her friends had saved his life, he considered it nothing more than heroics. Then why was she so stunned at his insults, his harsh manner? One shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter – J. K. Rowling does
Notes/Warnings: subtle DMHG; one shot; first attempt at this couple; post-war
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Change
Hermione Granger prided herself in understanding people, in being intelligent. She thought that, after the war, people were capable of changing. She thought that, after the war, even the worst of people could be her friend. However, she was beginning to understand that her intellect did not allow her to lack naïveté. It was clear to all the world that she was, in fact, quite naïve. No matter how many times she approached a person that she had known had always hated her, she never received a kind smile that she would tentatively offer them. She had spotted Pansy Parkinson in Flourish and Botts sometime earlier in the week and had smiled in greeting, but received a cold stare in return.
At last, after some years of working in the Ministry as an Auror, alongside Ron and Harry, it had finally sunk in that nothing had changed. Not the rivalry among those in different Houses, not the rivalry among those on different sides in the war, and most especially, not the rivalry between school enemies.
Although Hermione had not seen Draco Malfoy since the end of war, Harry heatedly reported a tense conversation between him and the once-Death Eater. She had only just entered the office when Ron looked up to her, his mouth turned down in a dark frown. Seeing that Harry's expression mirrored his, she considered walking out of the room and pretending that she had never been there. However, Hermione did not walk away from conflict – or complaining – when it came to her friends, so with a resolute step, she approached the two males. "What's happened?" she queried of them.
"That bloody Malfoy, that's what!" Ron snapped, eager to give her the details while Harry seethed. "Did you know he was working at the Ministry, too?" She blinked, raising her eyebrows the slightest bit in surprise. She had not, in fact, known that Malfoy was working at the Ministry. She had assumed, after Lucius Malfoy's deceptive manipulation of the Ministry, that it would be impossible for Malfoy to so much as consider a position at the Ministry of Magic.
"No," she slowly confessed, "I didn't. What does he work in?"
"Wizengamot Administration Services," he gloomily replied. "No low position for the likes of Malfoy, of course." He 'harrumphed,' crossing his arms and glowering down at the floor. Hermione bit her lip worriedly, knowing what Ron was thinking. He had struggled through all the Auror training, most especially the Concealment and Disguise testing. He had never been good at Transfiguration, after all. He got through the Stealth and Tracking with average marks, seeing as how he, Harry, and Hermione had done a good deal of sneaking around in their Hogwarts years underneath the Invisibility Cloak. That Malfoy had got such a high position, quite near the position that Malfoy's father had, no doubt infuriated him.
Turning from him for the time being, Hermione looked at her silent, brooding friend. Harry must have seen her eyes on him because he cleared his throat and said, "I ran into Malfoy today on my way to the Auror Headquarters. That's the only reason I knew he worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with us. He was on the lift before I was." His face clouded at the memory, adding, "He sneered as soon as he saw me. I feel bad for making the other wizards on the lift so uncomfortable. The lift was just flooding with tension." Hermione had no doubt of that. Harry and Malfoy were famous for their less-than-pleasant encounters, usually initiated by the latter. "Anyway, he got off on the same floor as me and I asked him what he worked in. I was trying to be civil – "
That, however, Hermione did doubt. " – but he just laughed and said that if I wanted to know so bad I could go snooping around under my Invisibility Cloak."
Snorting, she said, "As if you would need to use your Invisibility Cloak for that anymore. There are better ways to get information. What an idiot." A corner of Harry's mouth tilted upward, as she had intended. Ron raised his head to grin at Hermione. Their mood was lifted at this information and they went about their usual business, getting coffee and going to their desks that were piled with papers, with the exception of Hermione's. "Don't let it bother you," she told them, looking up from her desk and offering a smile. "I'm not sure how Malfoy of all people had been able to get a position at the Ministry with his bad record, but you never know – maybe he changed."
"Hermione, trust me on this," Harry told her in a sober tone, "Malfoy has not changed."
"Sounds like the slimy git I remember," Ron conversationally remarked, leaning back in his chair, taking a drink of coffee and resting his feet on top of the papers on his desk. "I can't believe he's in our department, though and we never knew it." He glanced at Hermione. "How come you didn't know? You know everything."
"I don't gossip about who works where," she sniffed in a dignified manner. Harry hid a smile behind his cup while Ron stared blankly at her. He opened his mouth, likely to disagree, but she shot him a warning look that had his mouth snapping closed. He turned from her and then slid his feet off the desk, cursing as papers came tumbling off the desk.
Yet another day of working with Harry and Ron.
At noon, while Ron worked to catch up with his work and with Harry gone, having been called away, Hermione left the Headquarters to go out for lunch. Perhaps it was fate, but Hermione preferred to put it down as a coincidence that Draco Malfoy was heading towards the lift just as she was. She could not help but note that the aura he had held around him during school was still there and just as prominent. He might not be as much of an immature moron – for how could he have gotten a job in the Wizengamot Administration Services being such? – but he was still arrogant and, from Harry's descriptions, a foul prat.
She stepped into the lift a moment after he did and was determined not to notice him. While Harry stuck out of crowd with his messy hair, round glasses, and lightning scar, Hermione looked to be as just another ordinary woman working at the Ministry. And, after her conclusion that no one changed, not even after the war, she was not about to try and befriend Malfoy. She would have thought that he would be indebted to Harry after he, Ron, and Hermione had literally saved his neck in the last battle in the war. Clearly she was wrong, something she was finding annoying as she was rather unaccustomed to it.
At first, it seemed that Malfoy had not noticed her. After the lift was empty with only she and him in it, however, he drawled, "Granger," just as she was about to send a prayer up to whatever entity existed. Instead, she cursed it. She slowly turned her head and gave him as haughty of a look as she could manage. She must not have pulled it off very well because he stared back at her, his mouth curled in a naturally cocky smirk. "Decided to get yourself a legal label as Hero Of The Day with Potter and Weasel-Bee, I see. Feel nice to be acknowledged for your acts of good, is it?"
"Yes," she returned curtly, "it is. I feel better than you should." One of his eyebrows rose in mild question. "Did you pay your way into getting your job, Malfoy, or did you actually work?"
"Feeling scrappy, Granger?" He sneered. "At least I can claim to have the money to do that rather than your impoverished boyfriend." His smirk turned outright malicious as he added, "A perfect couple: a blood traitor Weasley and a Mudblood. No surprise he would pick you. It's not as if you could get any better than that, anyway." Hermione was thankful when the lift stopped at the Atrium. He snickered as she shoved past him to exit the lift, her blood boiling. No, Malfoy had definitely not changed in the past six years. A long list of brutal hexes ran through her head, but she dismissed them. Hexing a colleague for something as simple as a remark on her blood was not worth it.
Underneath the anger, however, was a twang of hurt. She was disappointed in herself as she admitted that she had hoped Harry had been wrong. She had hoped that old rivalries could be forgotten between them. She hadn't wanted Malfoy to acknowledge her in fear that he would turn out to be the same Malfoy she remembered. It was a pity, too, because he really did owe them his life. A brief confusing thought crossed her mind. Perhaps that was why Malfoy was as rude to them as ever? He knew that he was indebted to them for helping him, even after all he had done to them, even after realizing he had been supporting the Dark Lord that had thrown the world into a place of utter darkness. This cleared Hermione's mind and made her less angry. He was sickened by it, as anyone of Malfoy's social status would be.
Halting in the middle of the Atrium, she considered this and then spun on her foot and found Malfoy's blonde head in the crowds as he was stepping towards one of the fireplaces. "You're a coward, Malfoy," she told him as soon as she was beside him. He paused, turning to look at her. There was a glint of childish glee in his eyes. He must be really disturbed in the head to like torturing people that much, Hermione mused.
"Remind me who the coward is, Granger. Was it not you who ran from the lift because of a little teasing? Such a frightened little mouse." His face contorted in mocking pity.
Ignoring him, she continued, "You don't want to admit that it's because of Harry, Ron, and I that you're able to stand here today. That's why you act like such a jerk. You think that if you're nice, you'll be vulnerable and that scares you." His face was swept of all emotion and his gray eyes had flattened in what she assumed was anger. It did not take a genius to know that this particular wizard was angry. She hesitated, wondering if her analysis had been wrong. No, that could not be possible.
He leaned forward and said in a low, even, furious tone, "Let me make one thing very clear, Granger. I could care less who saved me during the war, during that battle at Hogwarts. I am not afraid of anything, much less of being nice." As he said the word, his voice congealed with disgust at the mere thought of being such a thing. He leaned back, his eyes coldly appraising her. "Just because the so-called Golden Trio saved me does not mean that I like any of you, Granger. Try and get it in your overblown head that people don't change from something as simple as that." With his words delivered, Malfoy whipped around, his robes flying out around his legs as he continued to the fireplace. She stared, stunned, as he disappeared in a flash of green fire.
Later on, after a meager lunch in which she had trouble consuming, Hermione sat at her desk, staring down at her papers with her eyebrows knitted together. She could not, for the life of her, understand what everyone's problem was. Why did it have to matter what side people had been on during the war? Why could they not simply unite as one world? Why did blood have to matter and why was it such a big deal if they were Muggles or Pure Bloods? This was not, of course, the first time Hermione had deliberated over such things. Strangely enough, it had been Malfoy that invoked these thoughts in her last time, too. In second year, the night after he had called her a "filthy little Mudblood," she had lay in bed for a long time, wondering these questions. Just as now, she could come up with no reasonable answer and when Hermione Granger was unable to find an answer to a question, her mind would not be able to release it. It was only from the events with the Chamber of Secrets that she was able to forget about it.
I just don't understand how he can be such a prat, she thought to herself, sighing.
"Hermione?" She started in surprise and then looked up to see Harry standing there, his glasses slightly askew. He had obviously just returned from his assignment. "You alright? You looked like you were spacing out." He gave a slight smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you out of focus, really."
"Bloody hell," was Ron's muttered comment from his desk.
"No, I'm fine, Harry, but thank you." She smiled to dissuade the lingering concern on his face. Satisfied, he trailed over to his own desk while Ron continued to mutter, seeming to scribble all over the papers on his desk. She chuckled underneath her breath and then sighed, asking, "Do you want help, Ronald? You look like you're about to go mad." He jerked away from his desk, whirling around to look at her.
"I could kiss you!" he declared. He hesitated and glanced around, perhaps considering doing just that. As there were far too many people, he settled for, "Well, maybe, um, later." She stifled laughter as his ears reddened and as he handed her half of his stack of papers – he had spent most of the morning organizing the pile of papers into two different stacks – she could not help but be relieved for the extra work. This would get her mind off from the questions floating in her mind, ones that she knew she did not have a response.
Ron and Harry left work before she did, even though they had more work then she did. She had taken half of Harry's workload, too, having finished Ron's. She assured them that she wanted to stay and did not mind that she had done some of their work. It was not as if she had never done it and in fact once did it on a daily basis during their Hogwarts years. Ron lingered, likely thinking of that kiss he had promised her, but followed Harry shortly afterward, seeing that she was not going anywhere.
Admittedly, as Hermione worked, she was hoping to avoid Malfoy. He did not seem the hard-working type, even though his work in class had been relatively good, even as good as hers when in Potions, so she assumed the longer she stayed at work, the less likely she would be to run into him. Unfortunately, her intuition was proving to be quite undependable as of late. As she left the Auror Headquarters, rubbing her neck from bending over a desk all day, she froze at seeing Malfoy talking with someone outside the lift, waiting for it, it appeared. The wizard left after a moment and Malfoy's gaze landed on her a second later. She was about to turn and return to her desk, yet stopped herself at remembering him saying that she had been the coward for running from the lift. I will not let Malfoy of all people intimidate me, she told herself firmly and walked to stand a few feet from him to wait for the lift.
"No Potter or Weasley to guard you against me?" Malfoy questioned mockingly. She obstinately stared forward, refusing to give into his taunts. "Not that they could do much," he continued, unbothered by her lack of response. "How did they even pass Auror testing, anyway? Oh, Potter's name in itself could have gotten him the position of Minister of Magic, but what about Weasley? You'd think they would take one look at his shabby clothes and throw him out. That doesn't explain why you're an Auror, though." The slightest pause. "But that's right. Since you have no social life of your own, you put your nose in everyone else's. Can't quite stop the habit of putting your nose where it doesn't belong, eh, Granger? I suggest you should have kept it in a book. That's the only reason you became an Auror. Perfect scores, I suppose. If you'd gotten the scores I'm sure Weasley and Potter got – "
"Would you shut up, Malfoy?!" she finally snapped, glaring at him. The twisted smirk that appeared on his lips caused her to realize that he had been going on like that simply to get a reaction from her. Her hands formed fists at her sides. "I don't care if I'm Muggle-born. At least my parents are respectable unlike you're murdering, Death Eater of a father. My parents didn't sell me out to Voldemort just to keep their name respectable." Every muscle in Malfoy's face seemed to freeze.
"What did you say, Granger?" His voice was ominously quiet.
"I don't have to repeat myself." She was aware that she had crossed an invisible line with Malfoy and was expecting him to whip out his wand and curse her to oblivion. She could see by the way his hand twitched that he was thinking of it, too.
"What did you say about my father, Granger?" Hermione said nothing this time, staring at him as coldly as he was, refusing to allow him to intimidate her, refusing to allow him to force her to step away from him. When he was younger, he would more or less throw a little tantrum at anything that he didn't like. Now, however, he truly did look frightening. "What did you say?"
"I said," she replied with deliberate calm, "that your father is a murdering, despicable, heartless Death Eater."
Hermione, sensing that Malfoy was ready to use an Unforgivable on her, retrieved her wand from her robes just in case. His face, flashing with outraged fury, paused in its emotions as he saw her wand emerge. His eyes narrowed and he snapped, "Don't be ridiculous, Granger. As if I would waste my time to lose my job over dueling with you. You're not worth it, let along my anger. Your words mean nothing to me."
"It certainly did not seem like it," she returned coolly. He returned her stare with an equally cold one and then the lift arrived. It was empty, with no one on it. She stepped into it before him and stashed her wand away. The lift's doors shut and they plunged down towards the Atrium. Hermione was experiencing her own tension between Malfoy. He generally did not care what anyone said about his father, let alone Hermione or either of her other two friends. He always had a retort, but had never lost his temper over it. In spite of it, she wondered if something had happened to Lucius Malfoy. In a quiet, softer voice, she asked in the silence of the lift, "Is your father alive?"
"No," was the one-worded response.
Hermione knew then that Lucius had not survived the tortures of Azkaban. She went quiet then, wishing she had said nothing about Malfoy's father. Even if Malfoy had been rude and insulting since she first met him, since she first saw him after the war, she would never have brought up Lucius Malfoy had she known that he had died in Azkaban. It did not matter if some thought he deserved it; he had been a father to Malfoy and it was obvious to anyone that knew Malfoy that he had admired his father a good deal, regardless of some of the situations he had been placed in because of Lucius.
"I'm – "
"Spare me your worthless pity, Granger," he snarled. "You and I know you don't give a damn, so just keep your mouth shut."
Hermione hesitated and then said, "It's not like I think he deserved it, Malfoy."
"Oh, no, not the little Mudblood friend of great Harry Potter's," he scoffed sarcastically. "You don't know everything, Granger, and it's about time someone told you that. You can say whatever you like, but I'm not an idiot. Just like everyone else, you thought he deserved it because he was a Death Eater." She stared at him, shocked. He saw her expression and his lips curled in an unpleasant sneer. "Surprised? People aren't nice and I happen to be one of those people."
"And I think you're lying," she bluntly told him. "I'm not an idiot, either, and you're hurt about your father's death."
"Don't try to analyze me, Granger. I'm not interested."
"I'm stating the facts, Malfoy. You miss your father and we both know it." He snorted.
"You can tell Weasley your observations in bed tonight. I'm not here to listen to what you have to say about what you think I'm feeling." He was staring ahead of him, his arms crossed over his chest. A beginning of anger was rising beneath her skin. Only a moment ago he had been furious at her insulting his father and now he was acting like the same cold git as always. Was he so blind not to see how erratic that was? "Is that what you do in bed instead of shagging?" Malfoy asked, glancing at her. "Talk? That's rather boring, you do know that, don't you? Shall I analyze your relationships? It will be more difficult, seeing as how I still don't understand how Weasley gets off on looking at you."
"Don't be disgusting. It's none of your business why Ron and I are dating."
"And it's none of your business how I feel about my father's death," Malfoy sharply reminded her as the lift came to a halt at the Atrium. "If you're so interested, ask Potter how he felt after Black died. That should suffice." He moved ahead of her and she stumbled out of the lift, angrily staring at his back before jogging after him and thrusting herself in front of him. He paused, glowering. "Move, Mudblood."
"Malfoy, you're an arrogant prat," she stated plainly, "and I hate you."
"As if I needed to be verbally informed of this," he caustically said.
"The war has ended! Why is everyone being separated from Death Eaters and everyone else? Can you tell me that? Why does it even matter? It's not like they're going to rise up and try to bring Voldemort back!"
With a bored stare, Malfoy said, "The only person here that is doing that is you, Granger. Recall who was calling whose father a 'murdering Death Eater.' If you're so tired of prejudice, I suggest you start with weeding it out of yourself." He walked around her, leaving her alone. Hermione did not even turn when she heard the burst of flames engulfing him in one of the fireplaces. She wetted her lips, her brow furrowing, and then turned to move towards one of the fireplaces. After all that time of wondering those questions, it had been Malfoy who held the answer, the same person who had raised the questions in her mind in the first place.
The next day, Hermione found herself in the lift with Malfoy again. Neither of them said anything, even when the lift was empty. When it came to a stop and the disembodied female voice said, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," they stepped out and only then did Hermione say, "Malfoy?"
"What, Granger?"
"I'm sorry. I was prejudiced. I understand that now, but I'm not going to be anymore." He eyed her in a detached manner that made her feel more like a specimen than anything else.
"Good for you," he said after a pause. As he walked away, he added, "Nor am I."
She allowed herself a tiny smile, thinking, Some people can change, if not dramatically like we expect.
Finis
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DIS: Well, this is my second attempt in HP and only first attempt at DMHG. I like my first story on a couple/fandom to be mild so I can ease myself into it. Anyway, please leave a review on your way out, telling me how I did. Constructive criticism is embraced, so do not hesitate to point out grammar, character, or any other mistakes. Ciao!