Just Take The Long Way

Hermione and Ron were quarreling, and Harry was trying to get drunk.

It wasn't the most idyllic image of the Golden Trio, but life is what it is. Adulthood comes with its own set of problems, and defeating Voldemort suddenly means very little when you're dealing with two best friends who decided to have a relationship that then failed miserably.

Usually, both parties involved tried to keep their animosity down to a minimum for Harry's sake, but Hermione was currently halfway through her third cosmo after a bad day at work, and displaying a rather sour mood. Thus far Ron had been bearing her increasingly passive-aggressive comments with a stoic expression, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he blew up, and this whole debacle ended up on the front page of the news. Again.

"Hey, Hermione," said Harry, trying to delay the inevitable explosion, "whatever happened to that bloke you were seeing? You know: Andre...Austin…"

"Adrian?" Hermione corrected him with a sniff. "We broke up in December. Didn't work out."

"And I wonder why." That sarcastic little quip came from Ron. He probably meant to keep it down to a quiet mutter, but there was an unfortunate dip in the music right as he said the words, and Hermione heard. She snarled audibly in response, and Harry knew he had to act fast. He'd already had to pay off several establishments that his friends had razed to the ground after their bickering had progressed to full-on battles on two separate occasions. No one was officially keeping score, but it was one to one.

And so, after giving Ron a hearty kick under the table, he quickly asked, "What, uh...what happened to Adrian?"

Hermione's eyes, swirling with fury, snapped away from the redhead. "And why do you suddenly care?" she hissed like an angry cat. "It happened months ago, Harry. Months!"

The-Boy-Who-Lived held her gaze, trying not to fidget. It was true: maybe he'd gotten so tired of his friends' constant fighting that he'd stopped paying close attention to them. But, as rational as his behavior was, it still didn't make him feel any better.

"Ugh..." he began, thinking hard of what to say, when Hermione's ire, much like a candle on a windy night, suddenly sputtered out, leaving her simply looking tired and lost.

"I found him sleeping around with some floozy," she confessed, heavily. "But things were on the rocks long before that. Truth is–" Hermione took a swig of her cosmo, finishing the drink in one hefty gulp "–he put the milk in first. It was never gonna work between us." She stared at her friends with a solemn expression.

The whole group shared a moment of silence, and then all three broke out laughing.

"That's just downright barbaric!" chuckled Ron, wiping tears from his eyes, and Harry added that they ought to revoke the poor bloke's citizenship.

"I mean, what kind of a savage does that?" Hermione continued, airing her grievances of the hapless ex. "It's a very simple formula: tea, then milk; not the other way around!"

"A complete primitive," the boys agreed, shaking their heads, after which it became quiet again, allowing Celestina Warbeck's high soprano, coming from the music box in the corner, waft over the table.

"Another cosmo?" Harry asked, when the silence started to drag.

Hermione shot a discrete look at the pricing menu. She looked normal again. Tired, yes, but not wrathful. "Thanks, but I really shouldn't…"

"It's on me," Harry quickly added. "I know you've had a terrible day at the office."

The change was instant. "Sure!" Hermione agreed, lighting up with a smile. "And can you ask for–"

"The umbrella on the straw? The little orange one? Got it." Harry grinned and got up to walk towards the bar. It made him happy to put a smile on Hermione's face – if only for a little while. He knew why Hermione had declined initially: tomorrow was rent day, and Hermione, to put it lightly, was quite broke. Her salary at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a pittance, and whatever money the Ministry had awarded her for assisting in Voldemort's downfall, she'd donated away.

It hadn't changed anything, really: house-elves were still quite contently serving their pureblood masters, with the only difference being that Hermione's vault in Gringotts could now be successfully doubled as an echo chamber. Harry, standing at the bar and waiting for the drink to be prepared, sighed. He loved Hermione, he really did. She was like a sister to him, and he'd gladly put his life on the line for her, but, lately, she'd become unbearable to be around sometimes. The break up with Ron; her financial situation, which was only exacerbated by the amount of times her department's budget had been slashed; and her lonely, single existence had left Hermione quite stressed, and when Hermione became stressed, she tended to get naggy, turning snippy, condescending, and generally very harpy-like.

Privately, Harry thought (and he would never say this out loud), but what Hermione really needed was to get laid. She needed a boyfriend, someone who would take care of her and turn her mind away from the quagmire of work. Maybe buy her a nice set of robes, too. Take her out to dinner. And pound the unhappiness out, several hours later.

"Thanks," Harry said, when the cosmo (with the pretty umbrella that Hermione always liked) was ready. He picked it up and started walking back to the table, where, he hoped, his best friends hadn't initiated Wizard War Four.

To his surprise, it was all quiet. Hermione and Ron weren't even arguing; instead, both seemed strangely preoccupied with staring into the corner of the establishment.

"I don't get it," Harry heard Ron say, and, much to his surprise, Hermione nodded. Hermione rarely agreed with Ron nowadays, even when he was right. It was a matter of principle for her.

"It makes no sense," she grumbled and then pecked Harry on the cheek when he placed the drink in front of her. "Thanks!"

"What are you two staring at?" he asked, taking his seat.

Ron nudged him and pointed discreetly. "Malfoy."

Harry looked and spied the Slytherin sitting at a corner table, his back to the wall.

"After the war," Ron continued, "the Ministry confiscated everything from them. The Manor, their vaults, all their gold...they had nothing! The Malfoys barely skated Azkaban, and look at them now! Harry, they've bought the Manor back!"

"Really?" asked Harry. This was news to him.

Hermione nodded. "Seven million galleons. That's what I heard from Padma. Five years ago, they were broke as church mice, and now they can afford seven million on their home. I just...how's that even possible? How do you make so much money?"

"I know!" Ron whined. "It's not fair! We won a war, they lost it, and yet somehow they manage to come out on top! Where's the justice in that?"

"You think they're doing something illegal?" Hermione asked.

"That's an idea!" Ron exclaimed. "Probably selling dark artifacts – you know Lucius has experience with them! Harry, maybe we should check up on that, as aurors?"

"No cause," Harry remarked idly. He was dumbfounded. This had been the most amicable conversation between Hermione and Ron in over a year. They were actually getting along! And all because of Malfoy.

All because of Malfoy…

He sat up. "You think he's single?" Harry asked. His mind was working in a thousand different directions.

"Why, mate, you interested?" Ron joked.

"I think so…" Hermione offered at the same time. "Padma would have mentioned something otherwise."

Harry glanced over at Malfoy and grinned. Malfoy was rich, Malfoy was single, and Harry suddenly knew exactly how to make all his problems go away.

He had one downright evil plan.

And he was going to enjoy every second.

. . . .

Draco Malfoy was having an abysmally bad day. It was the kind of day that makes children cry for no reason, and forces wives to harp on their hapless husbands. Even nature was in a tizzy, punishing pedestrians with a cold, unpleasant drizzle that had no rightful place in the month of May.

Draco was hoping he could turn his fortunes up with a good tumbler of firewhiskey, but that was not to be the case.

"Potter." He tried very hard not to spit out the word. "Are you here in an official capacity?"

Harry Potter, Auror Extraordinaire and Boy-Who-Lived-To-Triumph, settled into the seat across from him and adjusted his glasses.

"I could be," he said, much too cheerfully for Draco's pleasure. "But that would depend on you."

Draco scowled. "I don't have the time nor the desire to play games. So would you kindly fu–"

"How do you feel about magical creatures?" Harry interrupted suddenly.

"What?! I could give a rat's–" Draco started to say and then quickly shut his mouth and narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Potter looked too smug for anyone's good. It was unnatural. Filthy, even. And strange enough that Draco fell for the bait hook, line and sinker.

"Why are you curious?" he asked, growling through his teeth.

Harry smiled. "Well I just heard that you were establishing a foundation aimed at the betterment of society. You know, promoting more egalitarian legislature, advocating livable wages for half-humans; breaking the yoke of the oppressed, so to say. That's very impressive, Malfoy. I'm impressed."

It took the Slytherin a moment of silent stuttering before he exploded, "Are you mad?! Took one too many dark curses to the head, maybe?! What in the bleeding hades are you yapping about?! What foundation?!"

Although it seemed impossible, Harry's smile only widened. "And I also hear," he added, lowering his voice and leaning in so that they looked like a pair of shady co-conspirators, "that you're assigning Hermione to be your liaison with the Ministry. I've got to hand it to you, Malfoy, that's a brilliant move! She's a real go-getter, our Hermione! She'll have your foundation's money transformed into tangible change in no time!"

Draco blinked. "I'm assigning Granger to be my fictional liaison for a foundation that does not exist?"

Harry nodded very happily.

"Alright," Draco said. "You're crazy. It's official. Harry Potter has gone officially mad."

"Now don't be so hasty, Malfoy," Harry said, and something in his voice made the Slytherin freeze. "I hear you were able to reopen your Gringotts vaults and stuff them back nearly to pre-war levels."

Draco, who had began rising from his seat, sat back down. He looked at Harry for several moments, desperately wishing that some obscure fairy magic would just whisk the Gryffindor away and leave Draco untroubled. Sadly, fairy magic is very unpredictable and was not feeling particularly compelled to assist him this morning.

And so, after a lengthy pause, Draco growled, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," Harry droned, "coming into so much money so fast...it would be a shame if someone looked into it. You know, someone official, with close ties to the Ministry and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Would be a real shame if that someone found improprieties in this new Malfoy gold." Harry shook his head sadly, as if already commiserating for such a unfortunate event.

"There is nothing illegal about that money!" Draco hissed.

"Are you sure? Are you really sure? What if someone were to dig – really dig, counting every knut? Are you certain they wouldn't discover any irregularities? Irregularities that your family, given its recent history and precarious social status, can't really afford?"

Draco clenched his hands and shifted uneasily.

"On the other hand," Harry continued, checking his nails, "it would be nice for your family to have a friend in the department. Someone to possibly warn them about impending raids or inform which way the winds in the Ministry are blowing. I'm sure any Malfoy would see the wisdom in having such a source of information. Right?"

Draco sat back and exhaled. "This is blackmail. You're blackmailing me!"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. All I see is a quid-pro-quo, with a win-win situation for both sides. Besides, imagine how much time you'll get to spend with Hermione!"

"And that's a good thing...why?"

Harry smiled again and began ticking off his fingers. "Well, for one, she's brilliant–"

"A know-it-all bookworm, you mean."

"–driven and dedicated–"

"A nag with no social life, got it."

"–real pretty, too; I still remember you staring at her at the Yule Ball–"

"I was not staring!" Draco sputtered, turning red. "Why would I stare at some...frizzy-haired tumbleweed?! It's a miracle the wind doesn't sweep her away!"

"Besides, there is the fact that she's a war heroine to consider. Any association with her would be beneficial to your name, would it not?"

"I...That's just…" Potter had a point there, but Draco would be damned before he admitted it. "If she's so wonderful," he sneered, "then why is she still single?"

"Why are you still single?" Harry countered, to which Malfoy flushed and pompously declared, "I can have any witch I desire!"

That ill-thought phrase came out sounding childish, stupid, sexist and rather loud, making people at other tables turn around and stare, muttering with disapproval.

Harry ignored them and blandly said, "I don't think you can. Prove it."

"Prove it?! Potter, are you trying to goad me into asking out your friend?!"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Is it working?"

"NO!"

"It's because you haven't spent any time with her yet. You know that old adage about opposites attracting? You two are the perfect couple; you just don't see it yet."

"Fighting in the war has left you certifiably insane," Draco groaned. "Why are you even bothering me?"

"Foundation," Harry declared icily, tapping the table with his fingers. "Establish the foundation, or run the risk of losing all your wealth. Again. Your call, Malfoy."

Draco took three deep breaths to calm himself and then gritted through his teeth, "Fine."

"With Hermione as liaison."

"Fine."

"And no less than three hundred thousand galleons in committed funds."

"Three hundred thousand?!" Ten million demons would have withered before with his glare. "You mother–"

"Language, Malfoy," Harry tutted. "What would your mother say, if she heard you talking like that?"

Draco had never been able to cast a Crucio, but he was pretty sure he could, now. "Damn you to Hades! Fine! Three hundred thousand it is!"

"Excellent!" Harry smiled brightly. "I look forward to hearing about this from Hermione. I expect the next couple months will be just brilliant, don't you?"

The Slytherin responded with a very crude gesture. Harry just laughed.

"See you around, Malfoy!"

After Harry left, Draco was left alone at the table, silently contemplating the overall unfairness of life and wondering whatever sins the gods were seeing fit to punish him for.

Thunder crackled outside. It was, indeed, a very bad day.