I don't own any part of the HP franchise, all rights to WB, Scholastic, and J.K. Rowling. I make no money off this fic.

AN: Here it is! Chapter 2! This is probs it for a little while. (My way of telling you I'm terribly busy and have no time for quick updates.) Hope you enjoy!

Hermione set her sandwich down so she could better explain the properties of a quark to a fascinated Luna when Harry appeared next to her, tray in hand. Hermione and Luna had met for lunch at a new bistro style cafeteria in Diagon Alley and she was surprised to see Harry so far from the ministry for a meal. She paused her explanation to say so.

"What, don't I at least get a hello?" Harry responded cheerily and Hermione smiled.

"Hello. Now, what are you doing so far from work?"

"Had a call this morning, out this way. Jones suggested breaking for lunch on the way back. Now come on, I don't have but twenty minutes. Tell me all the gossip."

Between Hermione's working in a publishing house and Luna's working for a laboratory that contracted with the ministry quite often, in addition to still heading the Quibbler in her spare time, Harry could effectively get all the news from the non-ministry side of things over a coffee or two, and he often did. He claimed it was good for an Auror to be well informed. Ginny claimed it was because he didn't want to be around his eight months pregnant wife and their toddler who was going through a screaming phase. Hermione figured he was just as much of a voyeur and rumor-monger as the rest of the human population and left it at that. But he was still one of her best friends and she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy their chats.

"Well," Luna began, "Hermione is explaining quantum-mechanics-"

"Physics," Hermione corrected and Luna went on.

"Right, because Wiztech Industries has just opened a new department."

"Oh, right, that contract about time travel?" Harry asked. "The one the ministry awarded them last month?"

"That's the one. Anyway, it's fascinating. I suspect, in fact, that quarks may be distantly related to nargles. I think I might run an article on it in the Quibbler."

Hermione managed to keep her drink down and her coughing fit to a minimum. Harry turned to her.

"And you? What's this I heard about the Malfoys? Ron said you told him you'd actually allowed them into your flat!"

"So that's why you came here. Saw us in the window, did you, and thought you'd butt in where your opinion isn't wanted?" Hermione accused, suddenly upset and Harry backpedaled as fast he could.

"No, no," he said. "Just what Ron told me. Thought I'd better ask. I really did go out this morning with Jones. Calm down, old girl."

"I am not your old girl," Hermione said stiffly. "Now, as for what Ron told you-"

"Is it why you're arguing again?"

"I happen to be in the business of books and Narcissa Malfoy, who is, by the way, a lovely woman now that she doesn't care about blood purity-"

"Yes, now that," Harry snarked and Hermione frowned.

"Going to let me finish?"

"Yes," he said glumly, and filled his mouth with sandwich. Luna coughed politely.

"I think I'll just go put my tray away, then be in the loo for a bit. See you in a few, Hermione," she said pleasantly, stood up and left.

"Harry James Potter-"

"Please, go on, Hermione. I'm sorry."

She shot him a dirty look and then took a deep breath.

"Fine. As I was trying to say, Narcissa has signed a contract with us to produce a cookbook. All proceeds are going to the muggleborn orphan fund. She's collected recipes from all sorts of women formerly associated with the Death Eaters and come Christmas we're going to have it ready to sell. It's really a brilliant idea- not as brilliant as her memoirs would be, but-"

"Hermione, you can't be serious. And why does all this mean you had to invite the Malfoys-"

"Just one Malfoy, Harry. Singular. And it's just Narcissa, coming over three days a week to cook, bake, and revise."

Harry looked slightly less skeptical.

"Still, couldn't do that any other place-"

"Oh, please, Harry. It's not like Ron is ever over when she is and besides, with his schedule it's not like we see each other at all these days anyhow. Ron is just as frustrated with not seeing me as I am with not seeing him, and he had to take it out somehow, so he's made a scapegoat of this poor, lovely project. And furthermore," she went on, wagging her finger at Harry, "he knows that's what's going on and he's being a right arse, taking his time with apologizing to me for it. So why don't you tell him that, the next time he decides to discuss our relationship with someone other than me?"

Harry nodded quietly, mouth still full of sandwich, and Hermione huffed. She stood up.

"I'd better go. Maybe Luna will wander around the shops with me. Say hi to Gin for me. I'll see you all soon, I'm sure."

Harry watched her walk away, saw her catch up with Luna, and watched the two witches wander out of the cafeteria and down the cobblestone street together.

He mentally cursed his friendship with Ron. The lying bugger. Trying to get him all worried over Hermione and the Malfoys when there was a perfectly reasonable explanation the whole time. But then, that was what love made one do on occasion. Go nutters, that is, and he should know, after all. He had an eight months pregnant wife and a toddler at home.

Draco glanced up as his superior poked his head in the office door and tossed a scroll across his desk.

"What's this?" he asked a bit testily, though distracted, as he was up to his elbows in paperwork already. Literally up to his elbows- his shirtsleeves rolled up, his robe hanging discarded across the back of a chair, files teetering precariously every which way on every available surface.

Loads of people were applying for author copyright. Absolute rubbish bin-full loads.

His superior swept a lazy eye over the state of things, didn't see anything amiss, and shrugged. After all, every other office of every other worker under him in their department was just as swamped. He was a wizard who saw the full value of delegation and used it. Liberally.

"Another something I thought you might want to handle personally."

"Another favor?" Draco said, ready to grouse and his superior smiled.

"Nothing you wouldn't have seen eventually anyway. It's your specialty. Authors, collections, etcetera."

"Oh, thanks then for hand-delivering something that would've come across my desk anyhow. That doesn't make me suspicious at all."

"Didn't think it would," the other wizard replied cheerfully before waving dismissively and popping back out into the hall to bother some other overworked staff member.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco reached for the new file and watched in horror and then resignation as his action sent another stack of papers toppling to the floor. He didn't even bother swearing. There was no point when accidents like that happened every five minutes in his office.

"So, let's see what we have here," he murmured to himself as he pushed the scroll open. "Ah, Peverell and Nott," he said with satisfaction. One, he recognized the paper. Only one publishing house used this particular brand in this particular size of scroll. It was extremely high quality magical parchment and if there was one thing Draco Malfoy noticed and appreciated, it was high quality. Two, he recognized the handwriting. There was no mistaking Hermione Granger's beautiful penmanship.

Was there anything so fine as a woman who knew how to write properly? He was hard pressed at this point in his life to name anything else that meant as much. Except, perhaps, a fine figure to match the fine penmanship. Not that he was thinking about Hermione's figure. Not that he cared about any woman's figure these days, aside from the one on her bank account.

But he digressed. Applying himself to the scroll in his hands, he read down…and stopped short. Well. Well, well, well.

Oh, Mother, he thought. Then the look of horror on his face was replaced with one of fond amusement.

At least it wasn't her memoirs.

Hermione checked her reflection in the mirror in her small hallway before answering the door. A silly concession to the small hold classist attitudes still had on her, but there it was. She was expecting Narcissa Malfoy in her home for the third week running and she'd caught herself dressing up, cleaning the apartment, and double checking every little detail of the evening every single time. Of course, it wasn't as though she wouldn't do the same for any other company she might have over, but it was the principle of the thing. Good manners were one thing. Extra good manners because you were secretly still craving acceptance from a witch who actually needed your acceptance more than you needed hers was another thing entirely.

Hermione turned away from the mirror and pulled the door open, fixing a bright smile on her face.

"Narcissa! Come right in, please."

She hadn't set up to allow the woman to simply floo over and Narcissa hadn't asked either, so she always arrived the old fashioned way- apparating to a back stairwell of Hermione's apartment building. Narcissa was carrying a sizeable package under one arm today and had a large bag over her other shoulder. She scooted past Hermione into the flat and waited for Hermione to precede her into the kitchen.

She was very polite, herself.

"That doesn't look like the makings of Witches' Winter Brew," Hermione remarked as she took the large package from Narcissa and set it on the island in the kitchen. Narcissa shook her head and began unpacking the bag on a nearby counter.

"Well, I was reviewing our plan for the recipes- the testing, you know- and I realized that all the equipment needed for that particular project is so…ungainly. I just thought it might be better if we skipped it for now and moved on to the roasts."

"Reducto of Chicken?" Hermione asked with some interest, picking up the ingredients Narcissa was laying out. "That's the one that's rather like blackened chicken, right? In a sauce."

"That's correct," Narcissa replied, sounding pleased. "I'm so tickled you remember," she went on. "You've really taken to this project. You have no idea how grateful I am, Hermione. It's really going to make all the difference, I can feel it."

Hermione flushed from the unexpected praise and put a jar of something that looked like powdered Blast-ended Skrewt down. She supposed it was to add spice.

"Well," she said, her hands fluttering for something to do, "I'm glad too. These sessions are turning out to be quite fun." She hesitated and let her fingers wander along the counter top as Narcissa bustled about- not that a woman of her elegance ever really bustled, but there it was.

"Still…" she began and Narcissa glanced up.

"Yes?"

"It's just that the Brew is going to take a while and I thought we'd decided that in order to have it tested in time for a Christmas publication we'd have to start it at least this week."

Narcissa hesitated also and finally set the chicken down in a pan still in its wrapping.

"Oh, blast," she said and Hermione gave a start.

"Pardon?"

Narcissa looked rather apologetic. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It isn't just that the equipment will be difficult to move- a simple shrinking charm would easily take care of that. You've seen through me, I'm afraid!" She gave a little, awkward laugh and Hermione raised a brow.

"Pardon?" she whispered again, sudden visions of Narcissa Malfoy snapping and the aurors being called in to find her own mangled body filling her mind.

There was a terrible pause. Then Narcissa cleared her throat.

"I started the Brew already," she said by way of explanation.

Hermione tried not to gasp with relief too loudly. Narcissa went on, looking at Hermione eagerly, as if she wanted her approval.

"Well, it isn't just that I started it. I mean, I didn't really start it. Lucius did, as a matter of fact. He heard- how silly of me, he didn't hear about this from someone off the street- what I mean is, I told him about our project, of course, and he thought he might help out by starting the Brew early. When I found out of course I was very upset because I know there's no way I can expect you to come to the Manor to check it, but the book just wouldn't be complete without that recipe, I really do think. Don't you? So, there it is."

She took a deep breath and continued to watch Hermione expectantly. Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh, or, well…laugh. So she did. Narcissa looked at her in consternation.

"So it's alright then?"

Hermione managed to get a hold of herself and stifled her laughter. She looked at Narcissa very seriously.

"I can't say I'm too pleased about the unexpected trip to the Manor, but I suppose I wouldn't have been able to avoid it forever anyhow."

"Oh, but you could've," Narcissa said. "I really never expected you to come. I mean, I'd never have asked you otherwise. I, er, that is-"

"That's alright, Narcissa," Hermione replied kindly. "I know what you mean. But we're both adults and it's part of my job to oversee the testing of all these recipes personally. So that's what I'll do. Now, when should we schedule my visit to the Manor, then?"

Narcissa looked uncertain for a moment more, then recovered her normally cool poise. She smiled back at Hermione.

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps- if you like- we might have one of our meetings next week at the Manor instead. Just sort of…switch them about."

"That would certainly make it easier than scheduling a new time altogether," Hermione agreed. "Alright. So next Tuesday afternoon it is. Now, shall we get on with the chicken?"

"Absolutely," Narcissa replied and reached for the jar of powdered Skrewt Hermione had set down moments ago.

Hermione blanched, but didn't say a word and the experimentation continued.

Reducto of Chicken

A whole chicken, cut into pieces, preferably de-boned. (Pre-separated, boneless chicken pieces fine to substitute.)

Equal parts cumin, saffron, chili powder, thyme, black pepper, cinnamon (a pinch), garlic (freshly minced or powdered), onion powder, and powdered Blast-ended Skrewt (to taste), sesame oil.

1 cup coconut milk, 2 tsps lime juice, a pinch of salt and saffron, 1 tbsp butter.

Combine spices and sesame oil, mix well. Rub down chicken. Marinate in additional mixture if desired. When chicken is prepared, place into an already heated skillet or pan to sear, not more than three minutes each side. Pour remaining mixture over chicken and place directly into an oven at 350º Fahrenheit for twenty to thirty minutes to finish cooking, turning once to redistribute mixture.

While chicken is finishing, melt butter in a pan. Add coconut milk, lime juice and salt and saffron, mixing thoroughly and simmer. Add flour or cornstarch to thicken.

Remove chicken from oven, pour sauce over top and serve. Serves 4-6.

Note: if no powdered Blast-ended Skrewt is available, a dash of hot sauce will substitute.

AN: If any of you get it into your darling heads to make any of these things, let me know, will you? ;)