AN: Second chapter, here it is. And the first follower, yeah :D I love you :*
Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the plot.
Malfoy sighed and eyed her up and down. "You need my help? Well, at least that's something new. What is it, then? And make it quick." He leaned upon the doorframe and crossed his arms, looking bored.
"What, because you were so busy right now lying on your couch?" Hermione replied. Wonderful, one sentence and it felt like they were in school all over again. This could get really funny.
"No, but taking a nap is a much greater pleasure than your presence being forced upon me." Of course, what answer had she expected? Merlin, why did talking to him always have to be so difficult? Couldn't they just talk on eyelevel like two normal people? He turned around again and went inside. "Coming in or what?" he asked and Hermione followed him quickly.
Malfoy Manor was not exactly like she remembered, it was much… brighter. Well, last time she was here Voldemort had turned it into his little fortress and she was slightly preoccupied with matters of surviving and escaping rather than focusing on her surroundings and the interior, which surely added a hinge of darkness to her memory. And she didn't get to see the entrance hall back then.
But even after the Manor was searched by aurors and disposed of (hopefully) all dark objects – and according to Harry and Ron there were tons of it in here – Hermione still felt the hint of panic rising up in her chest following her former classmate.
They were crossing a hallway and came by at least six bedrooms and two studs – seriously, what did you need so many rooms for? – before Malfoy decided to enter one that apparently was an office or a small library. The walls were covered by bookshelves and there were a lot of books on the desk, the windowsill and even on the floor, many of them opened. She had always imagined Malfoy as a tidy, almost pedantic, person if his outward appearance was anything to go by. But apparently he lived the chaos.
"Not that I want to keep you here longer than necessary – don't even touch the books, there's a system" Hermione quirked an eyebrow at this. A system? On the floor, really? But she couldn't say anything. Even if books were sacral to her, if she worked on something particular, there were tiles and stacks everywhere as well. She felt almost at home here, and apparently that was his aim, so she better was thankful of that. "But I figured you don't really want to discuss this in the living room since, after all, you know that room already, right?" he grinned at her.
Of course he had to bring this up at least once. A cold shiver ran down her spine. How could she ever forget that room, that night? Even after all this time she was still haunted by nightmares every now and then. The Cruciatus wasn't anything to forget easily. If she closed her eyes she could still feel the pain, hear her own screams. Involuntarily she grabbed her arm, where the word 'Mudblood' was still visible under her sleeve. She had been in St. Mungos with the hideous stigma, and after that she had spent a long time researching, but she hadn't found a way to erase it. If someone besides Voldemort deserved to die in the Battle it was Bellatrix. She was glad that Molly had done it, that the mad witch couldn't do any harm. She would have gladly killed her herself, and that was a really hard thought coming from her. Neville would've deserved his revenge as well.
A creaky sound interrupted her thoughts and Hermione jerked. It was just Malfoy who had placed himself in an old leather armchair and now gestured for her to take a seat as well. "And as glad as I would be to revive old memories with you, I don't want you to be more jumpy than you already are." She just stood there and tried to bring her breath under control again. "Hell, I won't kill you right here and now" he exclaimed, "when someone somewhere probably knows that you're here. I already had better opportunities to do this and I will find one again." Hermione eyed him cautiously. Of course she didn't think he would harm her right here, why did he have mention something like this? Did he want to annoy her that much? Did every conversation with him have to include death threats? She clenched her teeth and made an effort not to comment on it.
"Joking, Granger, ever heard of it?" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Right, forgot who I'm talking to. Just relax. Sit down already, or keep standing, for Merlin's sake, and let's get this over with. What is so important that you had to come in person and couldn't just get a 'No' via owl?"
Even if that sounded slightly discouraging, she had discussed this with McGonagall and she had assured her he would see to reason. She wouldn't reveal everything at once, since he would definitely throw her out right here and now, this was just a try to get him accustomed to the idea of the coexistence of muggles and wizards. She sat down on a small, green couch that was even more incommodious than it looked. Not so cosy after all, she thought grimly, but at least fitting for this place. Well, on to business.
"I want to propose a deal" she started. At least her voice was steadier than she had hoped for. "I discussed some matters regarding Hogwarts with McGonagall and she thought it would be best to ask you for help."
"So why couldn't she come and ask me?" The Slytherin interrupted. This will be fun, Hermione thought. Just don't let it bother you, don't let it show. "The answer would most probably still be 'No', but –"
Ignoring him, she went on. "Your mother –" His face darkened at this and she felt at unease, but at least he shut up. She tried again "Your mother could get out of Azkaban a lot sooner if you agreed to this" After all, she wasn't a death eater, and she had helped them as well, not unlike her son. At least before Voldemort's downfall family was most important to the Malfoys. 'My father will hear about this.' Merlin, she had always waited for Malfoy to tattoo this motto on his forehead. Not that she would do anything to make that bastard's life any better. Hopefully freeing his mother was a good enough argument for him to agree. "And it would certainly help the reputation of the Malfoy family if you were cooperating with the Golden Trio directly, not just the Hogwarts headmistress, don't you think?"
The scowl on her face mentioning the Daily Prophet's nickname for the three of them could easily rival Malfoy's. "Basically this proposal is about educating the Hogwarts students, minimizing prejudices. Roughly speaking, Counteracting Voldemort's influence." Hermione explained slowly.
That sounded innocently, good. Just remain vague enough for him to agree on the main conditions, she reminded herself. Everything else needed time, she knew that much. "Surely you are aware of the misunderstandings and the rivalry between pureblood and muggleborn witches and wizards, right?" That had to be the understatement of the century, he practically subsisted on them.
Malfoys eyes narrowed. "So what exactly do you want me to do? Just spit it out!" Great, that really burst with enthusiasm. But he didn't ask about his father, she noticed relieved.
"As I said" she continued, "we want to establish some changes in Hogwarts, starting with, but not limited to, muggle studies." Malfoy snorted at this. "We want this subject to be mandatory for all students, which will hopefully lead to a wider understanding of –"
"Yeah, you do that, great. You don't need my consent for that, so what? I don't suppose you need me to explain that topic to you?" Malfoy interrupted.
Hermione forced a smile. Okay, here we go. "Of course not, Malfoy, no. Not to me. But, and think of the benefits you could gain from this, in order to make other pureblood families feel more at ease with this idea, and a few others as well, I'm here to suggest you teach this course with me."
If Hermione thought she had seen a death stare before, they all dulled against the expression now set on Malfoy's face. If looks could kill even Harry wouldn't survive this. How could a face even turn this shade of purple? And Malfoy's in particular. Who would've thought his pale skin could even assume colour at all? Had he stopped breathing? He really looked ready to attack now and Hermione considered if she should reach for her wand. She knew it had been a bad idea to come here, to ask this of him. Why hadn't they at least met somewhere public? Because he most certainly would have never shown up, right. Was that a growl coming from him? For real?
"You expect me" Malfoy asked in the lowest voice possible. "to teach muggle studies with you?" He paused and eyed her up and down, before looking straight into her eyes. "Are you mental?" he asked slowly, curiously. Well, that was a really good question. In fact, Hermione entertained this suspicion since McGonagall came up with this idea for the first time and she agreed to the plan.
But what better way was there to convince Malfoy of her actual goal than letting him convince others that muggles and wizards are in fact on a par? And in classes that held students of all houses at that? The perspective of a teacher varied significantly of that of a student after all. First they would work on educating the students, and then they would try to get the different houses to work together, build friendships, realise that no Sorting Hat, no family tree, but your action would determine who you really are.
So, there were much greater issues she had to discuss with the seething man in front of her than his future career, but it was crucial to the next steps. "Yes." She answered with an unsure, lopsided grin. "As for the second question: Quite possibly yes as well. But think about it! Your mother could live here in the manor if you agreed to this condition and to try spreading the idea of inter-house friendship and mutual understanding. And of course" she went on, "this would increase your image of being an EX-death eater and a credible and trustworthy member of society quite a lot if you so openly supported the cause of the Boy-Who-Lived." By now Malfoy not only looked murderous, but a little nauseous as well.
"You may have redeemed yourself by not selling us out to Voldemort, but as I have heard the name of the Malfoy family still took a hard blow. How is business going right now?"
Hermione knew the answer to that. The Malfoys were rich enough to keep up their standard of living for a few years, or her own standard for decades, but after his parents were both sent to Azkaban and he could escape such a fate only because of Harry's assertions the youngest Malfoy had to take business into his own hands and if Percy and his sources were right that did not go well. Without corruption and bribery and due to their bad reputation their partners backed out of their contrasts as fast as they could.
Malfoy ground his teeth.
"What were your plans anyway, if your parents had still been here? Dying of boredom? Look, there are more benefits to this. Slughorn's old. He won't be potions professor forever, I mean, he already came back from retiring. Give this a chance, take it serious and you could take over his job in a couple of years."
"Years?" Malfoy asked alarmed. "Just how long do you want me to do this?"
"Until society realizes that muggles deserve to live, that they aren't that different, until they accept muggle studies as an important subject to be taught."
Another snort from him. "So, assuming I agree." Could it really be this easy? No cursing, no screaming, no begging? He didn't throw a tantrum? This didn't seem like the spiteful, hotheaded teenage boy she remembered him to be at all. Well, it's been quite a time since that, still it was strange.
"You know I never took this sorry excuse of a class, right? I don't know shit about it, so how do you expect me to –"
"I'll teach you." Hermione answered quickly with a bright smile. "Teaching children is new for me as well, you know? You'll be the perfect guinea pig for me." She laughed. "We're in the middle of April, so we have a few months to get you up and ready. I suggest we meet two times a week and –"
"I said we assume, Granger. Don't get your hopes up just yet. I get, why you want to do this. Still, why do you want me to in this? And, quite interesting as well, why are you doing this? Tell me honestly and I may agree."
"I don't understand" Hermione said precariously. "What does this have to do with anything?" Honestly, what did he care? "I want to prevent another Voldemort from growing, it's easy as that. I want you because of your reaction to the subject. You don't make anything of it, and this will be the reaction of almost every parent out there. If you support this as a pureblood and as a well-known and proud Slytherin, hopefully they won't object that hard."
"What about Zabini? Pansy? Or Nott? Yeah, I think he would do fine. Would probably be much more cooperative. Why me?" He asked curiously.
He wanted the truth? Why not? "I don't have anything to bribe them with." Hermione told him sternly.
"Yeah, right." He narrowed his eyes. "But you didn't answer my second question. Why are you doing this with me? I thought you had enough to do with this little house elf project of yours. Weren't you working on that in the ministry? Why going out of your way? Why not hiring another one to carry this out for you?"
"I want it to be done right." She snapped. "I want to be able to supervise everything directly. Answer questions. The ministry department can do without me for a while. I'll instruct them over the next months. And Hogwarts isn't the end of the world, you know? After all, they can still contact me if worst comes to worst."
This was it. Her official explanation. It's not like it weren't true, it was, it was just a bit… incomplete. But her personal reasons were nobody's business, much less Malfoy's. Moreover, she had cut down her hours and hadn't been in her office for weeks now, but worked from home or various hotel rooms instead and that went perfectly fine. Not that he would know. She could continue this for a while.
He didn't look very convinced by her arguments. The silence between them stretched and Hermione kept thinking about what to say to be able to break it, when he finally spoke. "Always the little perfectionist, hm? Okay, I'll talk to McGonagall then."
She looked surprised. She had heard right, hadn't she? But… he didn't press the spot. He didn't make any demands. He didn't react anything like she had expected. She was unsure of what to think of this. It was Malfoy, after all, there had to be a hitch somewhere. And if she herself was cunning enough to lure him into the trap that was her plan – in a metaphorical way, there was no harm coming from this, of course, she meant only good – but surely he as a Slytherin would have some ulterior motives to – but no. Stop thinking in stereotypes, dammit! Hermione scolded herself. That is exactly what you want to get rid of for good.
So instead of expressing her doubts, she said "G-Great. That's great. You do that, great, yeah." Oh Merlin, shut up. Well, it was great. Excellent, to be exact. Still not any sort of reason to emphasize it unnecessarily. She cleared her throat "So, can I expect you to show up next week?"
"Probably. I'll let you know." He groaned. Hermione cheered inwardly. She understood this as request to leave, but she had done it. Malfoy was as good as in. She grabbed her handbag and got up.
Arriving at the apartment – her apartment, home, she reminded herself – she climbed over her stuff sprawled all over the place. At least that that was not still in the boxes stacked in the middle of the living room and sat down in the kitchen, the only room that was already in an acceptable state. She really had to do something about the chaos – with magical endless handbags, how could moving evolve into such a mess? – but first she had to write a letter to McGonagall about her quite successful conversation with Malfoy.
And after that she better got ready for dinner. Luna had asked her to go out with her and she hadn't been able to stall this forever, despite her best tries. Not that she didn't want to see her friend again, but she knew what was coming – the questions which she wasn't really sure how to answer. Which she wasn't sure she had an answer to. But it was Luna, so maybe she was lucky and the conversation went in another direction altogether. If she had to listen to her babbling about her latest journeys to confirm the existence of… whatever now, she would do that gladly to avoid anything else. She sighed. It was all going to work out, she told herself. Everything would be fine eventually. But she had to get started somewhere, so here we go, she told herself and grabbed some parchment.
AN: This story won't only focus on Dramione, they do have a life beside their work together after all. So next chapter we'll learn more about what happened since the war ended and we'll have some interaction with other characters as well :) Personally, I don't think Ron and Hermione are made for each other, but there will be no Ron-bashing. He's a good and fun guy after all (at least Book-Ron, sorry, Rupert, it's not your fault, but the director's I think)
