Chapter Two: Enter Malfoy

The next morning began with a debriefing at the Ministry after a long, sleepless night at the Burrow. Hermione was too spooked to spend the night alone at her flat, not that Ron would have let her go home alone anyway, so she ended up sleeping in his old bed while he took the couch. She felt like she was seventeen again, back in the forest sleeping in a tent and waking up to every little gust of wind or crunch of the leaves outside. She wondered if the boys felt the same; it seemed as if they were able to brush off the event and go to bed like it was any other day. She, however, spent the evening staring at the sky outside the window, going over the details of what happened in her head, and it wasn't until she saw the first rays of sun dotting the sky that she realized she hadn't slept a wink.

After everyone at the Burrow had a moment to absorb what had happened, Molly remembered the Muggle security cameras Arthur had installed in the house a few months ago. He found the cameras at a garage sale and put them up to 'catch the damn gnomes that kept ruining the landscaping he worked so hard on'. Harry taught him how they worked and he was simply delighted to have such a fancy piece of Muggle technology in his own home.

The tapes hadn't caught much, but there was one frame with a clear picture of one of the man's faces. He took off his hat, which had been burnt in the fire, which revealed his face: young, brutish, and round. He didn't look familiar, but Ron and Harry both said they would get the image to the Ministry for widespread distribution, and they would get a name soon enough.

Harry scheduled a meeting first thing in the morning with the Minister and various other higher-ups. She Flooed home early to change into more professional clothes and met Harry and Ron at the top level of the Ministry in a large room with a long marble conference table. The room filled quickly with the other Aurors, some men, some women, some old, some young. Each one of them, however, had a single trait in common: the grave look etched onto their faces. She recognized a few familiar faces from functions or parties, but most of them were strangers. Hermione sat straight up in her seat, knee bouncing anxiously as each seat was filled and the Aurors began whispering, occasionally looking over at her with a questioning look. For a short time after the war she was renowned as a war heroine, but her reputation faded as quickly as it came, overshadowed by her two Auror friends.

Kingsley was the last to arrive at the meeting, and when he did, everyone stood. Hermione was the last to rise, unfamiliar with the Ministry's traditions.

"Thank you," he said, and everyone sank back into their seats. He positioned himself at one end of the long table and sighed deeply. "We have all gathered here today to discuss the incident that occurred last night, Sunday the thirtieth of August, at the Weasley residence. With us today are Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, two of our own who were present at the attack, and Hermione Granger, who was also a witness."

Everyone's gazes turned to rest on Hermione, who felt small and unimportant amongst all the Aurors. She was dress in her work best—a sharp blazer and pencil skirt underneath her nicest professional robes. Her hair was pulled tight into a bun and she knew she was certainly dressed the part of someone worthy of being amongst the wizarding world's top police force. But she was used to being the subject of children's gazes, not those of full-grown, stern adults.

"First, we are going to review the details of the event, and hopefully gather as accurate an account of what occurred as possible," Kingsley continued. "Mr. Weasley, I believe you have some material ready to present?"

Ron nodded, stood, and walked briskly to the end of the room next to Kingsley. Hermione watched, surprised and impressed, as Ron began an official account of what had happened, complete with a three-dimensional diagram conjured from his wand. She had never seen him stand with such poise and confidence; this was certainly not the same boy she met at Hogwarts so many years ago. He spoke without stuttering, he held his gaze strong and secure, and his voice didn't waver a bit as he recalled his own home being set ablaze. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking that he and Harry went to bed with no issue. He had to have spent all night working on his speech.

Each Auror had time to ask questions or add comments, as well as to discuss the possible identities of the perpetrators during the meeting. They passed around copies of the security camera photo, but none of the Aurors recognized the picture. Kingsley promised to put up posters that evening with a reward for any useful information. Hermione, against her instinct, remained silent until the conversation turned to the lightning bolt that had been burned into the Weasley's lawn. The rest of the room agreed the hooded men were Death Eater sympathizers who were using Harry's scar as a way to mock him. But Hermione had spent all night going over the details of what she had seen, and she had a different theory.

"I don't think they were Death Eaters," she said.

The room fell silent and every Auror turned to her, slightly aggressive, obviously uncomfortable with an outsider in the room. Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"No," she continued, voice steady. "They were hooded men, but they were dressed completely in white. The Death Eaters had an intense loyalty to Voldemort and would never have perverted his traditions. Plus, we know that any remaining Death Eaters retreated into hiding. It would be ridiculous for them to try to band together again. On top of that, there was something off about the lightning bolt."

She pulled out her wand and cast a smoky replica of the mark they saw outside the Burrow. "The symbol is similar to Harry's scar, but note the small difference in how many times the lightning bolt zig-zags. Harry's scar does it only once, but this mark is twice. It's also much thicker—if they wanted to replicate Harry's scar exactly, the burn in the grass would have just been a thin line. But the mark we saw was much thicker."

Kingsley cocked his head thoughtfully. "So what do you think these differences signal, if anything at all?"

"I can't be sure without more time to research the details properly, but my theory is that this was a warning signal. They are clearly sending a message to Harry, but they didn't come to hurt him. They had uninhibited access to Harry, who was unarmed, but they didn't kill him. Instead, they set the house on fire and fled. Those aren't the actions of Death Eaters."

"She has a point there," one young, softer-looking woman said. "Voldemort's followers were nothing if not devoted to tradition. I think we should go through our records, find anything with similarities to this case, and see if we can make any connections. In the past, terror attacks like these ones are rarely singular."

The Aurors dived back into conversation and Hermione leaned back in her chair. Ron whispered in her ear: "That was brilliant. I'm telling you, Hermione, you belong here. Governing."

The meeting lasted another two hours. Afterwards, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley stayed back.

"I'm famished," Ron said, rubbing his stomach. "Want to grab lunch?"

"Sure," agreed Harry.

Hermione stood to leave with them, but Kingsley stopped her. "Actually, Miss Granger, can I keep you for a moment longer?"

"Of course," she said. "I'll catch up with you two later." Harry and Ron waved and left the room, which was now intimidatingly empty. Kingsley's voice echoed against the thick walls.

"I wanted to talk to you about your upcoming travels."

Hermione beamed. "You know, I haven't yet had the opportunity to properly thank you for that. I'm very excited to get started."

"No need, Miss Granger, it is I who should be thanking you for accepting. The work you will be doing is invaluable. But actually, I wanted to speak with you about a significant change I have to make concerning your trip."

Hermione raised her brows. His tone was wary, like he was about to deliver bad news. "What happened?"

"Taking into account what happened last night, and the fact that it is of our expert opinion that it will not be an isolated event, I have decided to assign an Auror-in-training to accompany throughout your trip. Something of a bodyguard, not because I think you can't take care of yourself, but because we need to have another point of contact between you and the Ministry. It's also a liability on our part if you were to be harmed."

Hermione bristled. "I would think that I've proved my ability to fend for myself." She couldn't deny that after the attack, she was feeling extra on edge, but she spent seven years of her life on edge and survived.

"I don't meant to belittle you or make you think we believe you incompetent. The fact of the matter is, you will be travelling on the Ministry's galleon, and it is our responsibility and duty to keep our employees safe." Kingsley looked at her seriously. "This is non-negotiable."

She weighed her options in her head—she had already quit her job, this was a trip she had been excited about for weeks, and she had met some of Harry and Ron's co-workers before. Outside of a formal work environment, they were nice enough people. "If it's a must," she sighed. "When will I meet this person?"

Kingsley immediately shifted his gaze to the door. "Well, he's outside right now, but I wanted to tell you to keep an open mind before you meet him. Remember that we would never pair you with someone we didn't trust or anyone we thought might hurt you."

Hermione knit her brows. His tone wasn't positive. "Who is it?"

"We're trying to keep all of our trained veteran Aurors close right now, and we can't afford to send any of them with you," he continued. "I just ask that you keep an open mind, and only ask for a replacement if you really need one…"

"Kingsley, who is it?" said Hermione sharply. Her mind flashed through a few faces of Ministry workers she couldn't stand: Missy, a hopeful intern who yapped at Harry's heels like a puppy desperate to please, Jeremy, the young man who failed Auror training twice and always had a slimy comment to make on Hermione's arse whenever she visited her friends on their lunch break. She crossed her fingers and hoped for someone else.

"I was warned you wouldn't take well to the choice, but we took this matter seriously, and picked someone we thought would perform his duties well. He's the top of his class, really a fantastic wizard—"

"Kingsley, stop stalling. Tell me who it is!"

The minister walked to the conference room door and opened it hesitantly. The thick marble creaked sideways to reveal a tall man dressed in sharp gray robes, his face thin, pale, pointed. Hermione turned white.

"No."

"Hello, Granger. Long time, no see."


"This is unacceptable! Nowhere in my contract did I consent to be escorted for three months by Draco Malfoy." Hermione was whisper-yelling at Kingsley in the Ministry hallway while Malfoy watched just a few yards away. She knew he could probably hear them, but she'd thrown tact to the wind. Her hair was slowly unwinding from its bun and sticking up at odd angles matching her raging mood. "There must be someone else. There has to be."

Hermione hadn't even known that Malfoy was working at the Ministry, much less at the Auror department with Harry and Ron. The last she had heard about any of the Malfoys was when Lucius died two years ago in Azkaban. Neither of her closest friends had mentioned their childhood nemesis from a Death Eater family was now their colleague.

"There normally would be other options, but we need all of our senior members present." Kingsley was speaking in a low whisper, trying to draw attention away from Hermione's hysteria. "Let me express that I sympathize with your feelings. I deliberated hard on this issue and I understand the negativity that you rightfully associate with Mr. Malfoy. But ultimately, it is in the best interest of our heavily overworked Auror department to choose him to travel. He's still in training, so we can afford to let him go with you."

"I just…" she looked bitterly at the Malfoy, who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. "I don't know if I can trust him."

"I understand that completely. Be rest assured that he would not be anywhere near the Ministry's work if he hadn't proven his loyalty to our causes and expressed remorse for his childhood actions. Mr. Malfoy has been nothing but stand-up in every way and has been incredibly patient with all of our background screenings. He has voluntarily undergone Legilimency and has been questioned under Vertitaserum countless times. While his past may be unclean, his present is pristine, and we are trying our best as both a society and a department to move forward with trust and forgiveness."

Hermione tried to listen to the reason in Kingsley's argument, but she was struggling to think rationally.

"Why don't you have lunch right now and talk things out," he offered. "If after speaking to Mr. Malfoy you still feel uncomfortable, we can discuss alternative options. Although I must warn you, I can't guarantee that there will be alternative options."

Hermione pressed her lips together tightly and stared Kingsley in the eye. "Do you promise me that you trust him? With your own life?"

There was no hesitation in Kingsley's reply. "With my life."

She let out a breath he hadn't realized she was holding. He was right, it would be a display of intolerance to not give Malfoy a chance, no matter how much it might disgust her. "Okay," she said in a clipped tone. "I'll go to lunch with him."

"Thank you very much Ms. Granger. I hope you find him to be a changed man."

The moment Kingsley left the hall, Hermione turned on Malfoy with a stern finger held up. "I'm giving you one warning now—any funny business, any derogatory comments, anything that could even be construed as disrespectful or threatening and I will hex your dick off and have you fired faster than you can figure out how you're going to piss without a penis."

Malfoy was slightly taken aback, but quickly straightened himself up. Standing tall, he had a good eight or nine inches on Hermione's small frame. "I'm not going to hurt you, Granger." His voice was slow and measured. She could tell he was trying to strike a balance between respectful enough to avoid being fired, and pointed enough to assert his dominance. It was a careful game of power he was playing, but she didn't want any part of it.

"Good," she said sharply. "Let's go get lunch, then."

As they walked to the cafeteria, Hermione took note of the way Malfoy carried himself. He looked nothing like how she remembered—the Malfoy she knew was thin with slicked back hair and a pompous way of swinging his shoulders while he walked. This Malfoy was older, body filled out, hair cut shorter and swept over to the side. He was tall, very tall, and carried himself with a sense of humility that was in stark contrast to the Slytherin boy she remembered. He was still proud, but he wasn't superior. He knew his place.

What was most different was Malfoy's face: he still had his signature smirk, but his eyes were lined with dark circles and his cheeks were gaunt, as if he hadn't slept in several days. While Harry and Ron were in Auror training, they sometimes went days without sleeping or eating a proper meal. Perhaps he was suffering the same circumstances.

"How long have you been working here?" she asked him curtly.

"It'll be… six months next week, I believe."

Six months… That was twice the length of normal Auror training. She frowned. "Harry and Ron didn't mention you were in Auror training."

"Trouble in friendship paradise?" he asked. "Makes sense, the two of them hardly see me. My training is taking twice the normal amount of time because of all the background work the department did to make sure I wasn't going to murder them all when they weren't looking."

The cafeteria was busy, so they picked up plastic-wrapped sandwiches and settled at a table in the far corner, away from the noise and bustle of the other Ministry employees. The calm, polite way he was acting made her suspicious, but she reminded herself to give him a fair chance. It was more than he ever gave her, but she prided herself on being the better person.

When they sat down, Hermione pulled a file out of her bag and handed Malfoy a copy of her travel itinerary. "So, I'm leaving a week from today and going straight to Paris for—"

"What, no small talk?" Malfoy interrupted.

"What?"

"No 'How have you been?' No 'It's been so long.' Nothing?"

She turned her gaze back to the papers, annoyed. "I don't care how you've been, and you don't care how I've been. This is a meeting between two work professionals to see if we would be compatible on a professional level."

"Humor me. How have you been?" Draco was picking the tomatoes out of his sandwich with his fingers and stacking them on a napkin.

Hermione let out a short breath. "I was doing wonderfully. I quit my job at Hogwarts to take this opportunity, but the excitement I had was quickly robbed from me when I found out you'd be joining me in my travels."

Malfoy ignored her disparaging comment. "What did you teach at Hogwarts? History? That's boring enough for you to love."

"I taught Magical Law and Justice." Malfoy's tomato slices were soaking through his napkin, irritating Hermione. She flicked her wand and made them disappear.

"You seem tense," observed Malfoy with a smirk.

"I wonder why." She took a bite of her sandwich, which was dry. "How have you been?"

"I've had a rather shit year, myself. Finally got my foot in the door here, struggled through double training, and just when I thought I was finished, my boss comes in and tells me I have one final assignment before I'm through, and that's to babysit you for three months."

"You'll be pleased to know that I don't need a sitter. You're more than free to spend as much time away from me as possible."

Malfoy waggled his plastic cafeteria fork in the air. "Ah, ah, ah. Not happening. I have worked too damn hard to get to this point. I'm going to do my job."

Hermione was confused by his seemingly sincere dedication to the job. "Why are you even doing this? Becoming an Auror?"

"I don't really feel as if you're privileged enough to know such a personal piece of information." Hermione glared, knowing he was being elusive just to irritate her. "Trust me, Granger. I have better things to do with my life now than come up with elaborate plans to infiltrate the Ministry and kill you."

"But you're not too busy to irritate me?"

He smirked. "I'll never be too busy for that."

She leaned back in her chair and looked him up and down. There was nothing malicious in the way he was acting. He was just being irksome. "I really want to go on this trip, Malfoy."

"I know."

"And I don't think Kingsley is going to let me go unless you come with me."

"It appears that way."

"I really, really care about what I do. You might not understand what that feels like—genuinely caring about something—but trust me when I say it's a powerful thing. I want to make a positive change in the Ministry, and I need you to promise that you won't stand in the way of that."

Malfoy licked his lip carefully and set his food down, looking at her square in the eye. His gray irises were hardened and heavy, much like most of the eyes that had lived through the war were. She held his gaze and jutted her chin slightly, unwilling to let him make her feel inferior.

"You make a grave miscalculation in assuming I am incapable of caring. In fact, I care quite a bit, just maybe not about the things you do. Either way, I am entirely capable of empathizing with how you feel, and I can promise you I will not stand in the way of your work. I may irritate you—it's a little amusing, you get all shrill—but I really do have better things to do with my time than ruin your life, Granger."

Hermione bit her lip and squinted at him as she tried to decide if she should trust him or not. But then she thought of all the travel books she'd purchased and all the itineraries she'd created, and she knew she would have to compromise.

"Fine," she said, extending a hand across the table for him to shake. He smirked and for a moment she thought he might not accept, that he might make a remark about dirty blood. But instead he grasped her hand firmly and nodded.

"Good."


"I swear to you, Hermione, I have no idea why they'd assign the git to your case. If we had known, we would've pushed for someone else," Ron said in earnest. He, Harry, and Hermione were back at the Burrow to help repair some of the leftover damage. Hermione was interrogating the boys about Malfoy's training in the Ministry.

"We were shocked when he first stepped in the door," he continued. "But it wasn't a big deal for us because we almost never see the trainees. Not like he'd say anything anyway, us being the top dogs and everything." He winked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"I'm still upset you didn't tell me."

"I could've sworn we mentioned it," Harry said. "But it honestly wasn't that big of a deal. Lots of Death Eaters' kids switched over. I think there's another in the Auror department, actually, but she's a secretary. When Malfoy first applied I thought he'd never pass training, but apparently he's top of his class."

"I hate to say it, Hermione, but you're might be being a bit paranoid. Everyone in the Ministry goes through the most intensive background checks out there," Ron added.

Hermione sighed, unable to believe that her two friends weren't siding with her. "But do you believe him? Do you think his motives are… pure? He's not just a child of a Death Eater, he was a Death Eater. He has a Mark."

"He was hardly a Death Eater. The idiot failed at every task he was assigned," Harry said with a snort. "Besides, it would be hypocritical to turn him away because of his family's choices. I'm not saying we shouldn't worry about people who have suspicious pasts, but being branded with the Dark Mark at age 16 against your will is not really a sign of pure evil."

"That being said, Malfoy is a giant tosser and it blows chunks that you have to spend the next three months with him," comforted Ron.

"Thank you! Ron is officially the superior friend." Hermione raised her wand over both his shoulder as if to knight him.

Harry shrugged. "I had a feeling you always liked him better. The part where you shagged him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for two years was kind of a giveaway."

Hermione turned to Ron, mouth wide in horror. "You told him about our schedule!"

The ginger raised his hands in preemptive self-defense. "He's my best mate!"

Harry laughed as Hermione descended upon her ex-boyfriend with a shower of punches. "To be fair, Hermione, having a schedule was a little strange."

"I hate you both."

Harry continued to laugh as Ginny walked into the room, holding a sleeve of cookies and eating them one by one. "What's so funny?"

Hermione folded her arms and grumbled. "That fact that your husband knew what I was doing every other weekday night for two years of my life."

"Oh, shagging my brother?"

This time, Hermione turned to Harry with her fists full of wrath. "You told Ginny?"

"It's the rules of marriage! I had to tell her! Mercy!"

Ginny giggled. "It's no big deal. Lots of couples have to schedule intimate time."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"We could go back to talking about Malfoy," Ginny offered.

Hermione groaned and fell back onto the charred couch. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Set some ground rules. Compromise. He doesn't get the Auror job without a positive report from you, and you don't get to do your amazing work without his accompaniment. So come up with some agreements and you both win."

Hermione mulled over this suggestion. "That's not a horrible idea."

"Don't let him ruin this for you. You're going to travel and have a wonderful time! You're even going to visit Spain, and maybe see Daniel?" Ginny grinned as Hermione blushed. "Have you told him you'll be in his neck of the woods?"

Hermione had, in fact, written to Daniel and told him she would be visiting Spain in the coming weeks. Something about Charlie and Astoria's teasing made her feel like she had something to prove. "I did, but I also told him it was just a friendly meeting. Nothing intimate," the brunette said sternly.

Ginny winked. "Sure. See, Hermione, you're going to have a fantastic time, and you probably won't even notice the ferret after awhile. You're quite good at drowning out other people's voices."

"That's true," Ron piped in. "I once saw her study through one of the twins' drinking contests. Everyone was screaming chug, and she was just sitting in the corner of the common room, completely oblivious."

"It was a skill I developed out of necessity," responded Hermione. "After years of trying to study with you two idiots by my side, I became quite good at pretending you weren't there."

Ginny smiled. "You'll have fun. And if Malfoy gets to be too much, just Floo us and we'll come to your rescue. I promise to come visit you at least once a week until I get too pregnant to travel regularly."

The brunette sighed and pulled anxiously at a strand of her frizzy hair. She was really going to miss the company of her friends. "I guess."


A/N: Trying to figure out if I should post once or twice a week. We'll see how long it takes me to go back and edit each chapter…

Again: disclaimer that this is not supposed to be some grand masterpiece. If you find any errors, please tell me!

-potato.