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It's kind of what keeps me driven to write. Please tell me what you think! :)
2.
This week had been dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. Not only was she being stalked by news reporters even more annoying than Reeta Skeeter- even her own colleagues were starting to question her, trying to find out more about the oh-so interesting divorce of her and Ron. It wouldn't have been bothering her so much if Ron hadn't been so willing to just open up about their problems, calling her a 'workaholic, neurotic, perfectionist, distant wife'. How dare he of all people call her distant! She wasn't the one to drive them even further apart than before, and just expect everything to work out the way he wants to. She couldn't help that he didn't notice the cracks until there was nothing left to fix anymore.
Lost in thought, she didn't hear the first knock on the door to her office. Only when there was a second, harder knock did she look up and rub her eyes, which had been burning with tears just seconds before. When she felt confident and strong enough again, she straightened her back and called for the person waiting to come in.
She was sort of relieved when her assistant appeared in the doorway with a shy smile on his face. Her head wasn't in the right place now for long office-talks. ''Merril, what can I do for you?'' she asked with a polite smile, gesturing for him to take a seat on the chair in front of her desk. He had charming dark blue eyes and light brown hair that almost reached his shoulders. She couldn't count the numerous times she got in a heated discussion with Ronald over him being her assistant.
''I'm sorry to disrupt you, but there is one gentleman by the name of Draco Malfoy here for you, but he doesn't have an appointment. Shall I have him come back later?'' She sighed and rubbed her temples. She really wasn't in the mood to talk to Malfoy, and having him put on a waiting list for three months seemed tempting. But on the other side, that would mean three months of anticipating the ferret. ''Send him in,'' she answered, giving Merril a little smile, before dropping it immediately when Malfoy walked in. Merril closed the door behind him, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.
To break the silence she cleared her throat, and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. ''Take a seat, Mr Malfoy. What can I do for you?'' she couldn't help but notice something she hadn't in the bookshop. His clothes looked.. Dare she say it? Old. They looked worn out. Well, this was something new. And did she see detect some uneasiness?
''I'm here because I got a business offer to make.''
She raised her eyebrows and slowly nodded, tapping her quill. ''Go on,'' she urged him. ''I want to offer my services. I know a lot about the companies you're working with from when I was younger, and I know how they think. I could become your assistant. And with assistant I don't mean getting your drinks and opening doors for you.''
The nerve he had. Barging in here like some spoiled brat –which, come to think of it, he is- as if she needs help. She has been running this department for three years now with nothing but success. At least, what is known to the public. The Department of Magical Law enforcement never did better than under her command now.
''Why?'' was all that she seemed to be able to say. He gave her a smug look. ''Well, Granger, I felt the need to explore my qualities and get the world to profit off them.'' She frowned, and shook her head. ''Enough Departments to do that,'' she replied drily. ''You know I've been installed as Head here. Why do you still want to work here? Beneath me?'' He didn't seem to have an answer for that. At least not something he felt fit to tell her. ''I'm sorry Malfoy, but I'm afraid that we got no positions open at the moment. The position as assistant is already occupied as you might've noticed,'' she added. She had said it as humane as possible. It was difficult not to add 'and now please get out of my office.' That would be considered mean. Possibly.
His face was set with a grim expression, before getting up at once. Without even a word of goodbye he basically stormed out of the office, leaving her very flabbergasted. What had she done now? All she had done was be polite to the insufferable twat he was. She had been even so much as friendly.
Seconds later Merril walked in, a concerned look on his face. ''Are you all right?'' he asked, probably seeing my baffled expression. She quickly snapped out of it, nodding. ''All is right, thank you. Would you mind locking the door on your way out? I'm planning on flooing through my own hearth tonight.'' He gave him a small nod and a shy smile before closing the door. She heard a small click, signalling the door was locked.
She let her face fall in her hands. Why did it look like everything she did went wrong? She just.. She didn't think she could take any more of this. Everyone was getting mad at her, even Harry and Ginny who had taken up sides with Ron even though they claimed not too. It spoke volumes that neither had bothered to visit her after the divorce got final. She let her hands move up to her hair. The up-do she had managed to make was already unravelling, so there was no point in trying to save it or minimise the damage. It was not like she was going home to anyone.
Draco was absolutely disgruntled after that encounter. He had asked her a civilised question, done her a proposal. And she still dare look at him like that. Like he was less than her. It annoyed him to no end. She had suggested for him to try at other departments, and he had wanted to laugh right in her mudblood face. He had tried, multiple times, but nobody seemed to be all too eager to hire a former-Deatheater. He had thought that maybe, all their past-differences aside, she would hire him. Hell, he would've accepted a job out of fear of spite. He would've thought that under that friendly-demeanour maybe she would've felt some compassion, since they were both outcasts now. Because they were, weren't they?
He was because of obvious reasons- and she had divorced the Weasel all too recently. And with the bloke spilling all sorts of details and information, he wouldn't be surprised at her declining popularity. Maybe she just needed time to see. Maybe she was just ignorant when it came to stuff like that.
He snorted at that, making various people look at him oddly. Well, it was true wasn't it? At school she never had seemed to notice her unpopularity. The only reason people only ever glanced her way at all was because she was friends with the Boy Who Lived. He noticed he had walked in a circle, and was now in front of the entrance of the Ministry again.
He groaned before looking for a quiet spot to apparate from, when he saw something from the corner of his eye… Or rather, someone. He immediately recognized the red headed Weasel. It was just too good to be true. Something to cheer him up. ''How's it going Weasel?'' he called, walking up to him with confident strides. The dimwit looked around him first, before his eyes settled on him and a scowl settled on his face. Draco couldn't help himself but smirk.
''Sod off ferret,'' he snapped, before speeding up his pace towards the entrance of the Ministry. He raised one eyebrow in confusion. Around this time most witches and wizards were leaving, not arriving. Unless… ''Going to try and sweeten things up with Granger?'' he asked him rather loudly. The Weasel turned around with a face as red as his hair. He could see him considering to move forward. At second thought, he seemed to pass.
''What is it to you?'' he hissed, looking around to see if anyone was listening. Draco shrugged, seeing his chance clean. ''I was there just mere minutes ago, and let's just say… I don't think she is ready to receive you now.'' Draco had said it with his most silky voice, smirking. He could literally see the colour drain from his face, and he really had to do his best not to burst out laughing. ''I-I don't believe you,'' he croaked. Really. It was too funny to be real. ''Well, Weasel, you better believe it. Why else would she welcome me in her office? You could always check with her assistant.. The one with the ridiculous name? He did look better than you, which is not that hard… Maybe he has spent some time in that cosy office too?'' he smirked victoriously, before turning around and walking away. He knew Weasel wasn't good at hexes, but he'd be damned to risk anything.
Yes, this did make him feel significantly better.