A/N: When the sun hits Sweden you cant help but leave the computer and gaze lazily at the green grass. It rains today though, and I'm looking for a BETA still. So if you have sun or some spare time over, let me know!

UPDATE: Thanks! to Darkness Approaches for BETA-reading this chapter.

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Chapter two:
Law Unit 3

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[Day 3]

Hermione Granger, a former worker in the Magical Creature department and now a highly respected lawyer worked her way through the hallways of the English Ministry of Magic with a self-confident sway. While she took small sips from the paper cup of take-away coffee from the small Muggle shop by the subway she glanced at the ineffective workers she was surrounded by. More annoyed than she already was with life, love and labor she watched her badly performing co workers in Law Unit 3, the unit she was head over. There was Theodore Nott humming while he looked in the thick book of medical laws at her right. He always murmured 'Good morning' without looking up from his work but somehow he never managed to win a case. Walking further down the hall was Johnson and Mrs. Cattleburn sitting in a corner while gossiping about the Daily Prophet's forecasts. Johnson was a tall, small man while Mrs. Cattleburn took up the two seats next to the sink. When passing them they gave her a meaningful look and she didn't blame them. She too had read the Daily Prophet and the rubric "Weasley moves on" followed by a nine page spread about the scandalous partying her ex had been involved in was a nice start to her morning.

It had been her fault that the Weasley moved on, growing up was too much to ask from a man who didn't know how, but after three months of waking up alone in bed she knew that she would never get used to the feeling of it. Some nights she missed him but she always had Harry left and that was at least something.

"Hang in there, kitty," Mrs. Cattleburn yelled and pointed at the rubric above a picture of the redhead. She gave Johnson and Mrs. Cattleburn a meaning nod, saying 'I'm okay', and continued on observing their useless gossip in the corner of her eye. Hastily she passed Millicent Bulstrode's empty booth and Ken Gobblinstone's dusty cubical, knowing that they were involved in things that were not office appropriate and cursed the laziness of her department inwardly. Despite the ineffective employees around her Hermione sighed as she reached her secretary at the end of the hallway, being the most ineffective of them all.

Hermione approached and cleared her throat to announce her arrival to her secretary.

"Oh, good morning, Miss Granger," The bleach blonde and blue eyed woman said, slightly alarmed.

"Good morning, Astoria, any messages or have you been busy doing. . . other things?" Hermione said in a way that she hoped felt like a warning against PM'ing the International Sports secretary on working hours.

"Ehm, no, right," Astoria replied while glancing through the many papers that came for Hermioine before handing them to her. "There's this case about the French Prime minister attacking the Daily Prophet that you should look into, Nott handled the investigation but it went . . . well, and you have a lunch meeting with Minister Shacklebolt oh, and The Chosen One booked you during the afternoon."

"Harry Potter," Hermione corrected and shifted through the papers she was given and read through the endless amount of information without taking notice of the shifting Astoria.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Astoria echoed. "And I guess you saw what the Daily Prophet wrote today so he came by and left you a message, want to hear it?"

An unexpected pause followed, in which Astoria waited for a reply from Hermione. Hermione looked up from her papers to wonder why on earth Astoria would ask such a silly question. "Well, yes, of course I wonder what he said!" she yelled and let her eyes wander back to the papers in her hand with her eyebrows furrowing even more as she cursed the incompetence of the secretary.

"Oh – he said: 'It's not like it looks. You know I can't hold more than a bottle down'," Astoria recited in deep concentration and added, "Oh, and there's someone here, too. In your office."

"Really?" Hermione said, smiling slightly by the two pleasant pieces of news Astoria just gave her. She was very aware of Ron's incapacity of drinking more than a bottle of Firewhisky, a thing she always beat him on, and she was even more aware of the fact that McLaggen planned a secret visit sometime, or so he told her at a benefit banquet last week. She had loathed the handsome boy for as long as she remembered but with her nonfunctioning relationship with Ron still stinging, McLaggen's visit would be a pleasant 'surprise'.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked, mostly to hear Astoria's envy poison her voice. McLaggen was after all the second hottest male in Britain today according to The Weekly Witch, number one – third year running - being her beloved Harry.

"He is dreamy. . ." Astoria said instead and her eyes went dim. It was not the desired effect, Hermione admitted, but it was better than hearing Astoria going on and on about the bloody International Sports committee's gorgeous employees (especially the secretary) like she usually did when the subjects were men. "He's been waiting for a while now," Astoria added and gestured to the door behind her desk. "I told him to wait in your office."

"Right, don't make that a habit though," Hermione heard herself reply.

She observed her looks in a nearby glass window; a slim woman, clad in a gray pen skirt and shirt, bushy hair all over her head, face stern and eyebrows furrowed in concentration was what she saw before she passed by Astoria and opened the door to her office. When opening the door, ready to face McLaggen with all his looks covering the peanut he had for a brain, she saw the last thing she expected. In her thick, leather seat she saw the back head of a blond male with a black suit and a pale neck. The white color of his collar almost faded in with his skin and that turning of his head to face her was stiff and slow.

She met his eyes and quickly thought of iron; gray, stale and very chilly. There was no doubt, she thought as she looked at the pointed chin and the small pink lips, that this was Draco Malfoy sitting in her leather seat, in her office and looking out her window.

"Hello, Granger," Draco said with that tone that she hadn't heard for years. It sent chills down her spine, just thinking how much he was like his father.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted. "And in my chair, while we're at it?"

"Didn't Astoria tell you that I was waiting here?" Draco asked her, clearly knowing the answer already. "The Greengrasses are forgetful."

"She used the word dreamy. . ." Hermione heard herself say. Not Death Eater she added silently to herself but regretted that in an instant.

"I'll keep that in mind," Draco replied after a stiff silence, in which she felt plain stupid, and stood up from her thick leather chair. "Here," he said and gestured towards her chair.

Hermione walked through the room and passed Draco who, quite frankly, oozed of cologne and schemes, the latter much to her annoyance.

"Wait," Draco burst out, making Hermione turn around to face him. He reached out his hand to shake hers. He hated her guts, she knew, but at least he had manners. With a last glance at Draco with her eyes narrowed, she grabbed his hand and shook it in a rather unnatural way. The only thing she noted was that his hand was polished to perfection and that his hand was far from the icy cold external he sported. It was warm, almost moist, and smooth as the tie around his neck looked. When the few seconds of awkward handshaking was over she told him to sit in front of her.

"I know how this seems," Draco started as he tugged his tie a bit. She wondered how his smooth hand against his smooth looking tie felt. "To be honest, I hat – dislike you as much as you dislike me and I want to disinfect my hands with Healer Hodges Handsoap after that awkward handshake we just shared –,"

"The feeling is mutual," Hermione interrupted, clearly not enjoying his choice of words. All pleasant thoughts about him left her instantly.

"I doubt that, Granger," Draco said dryly, not enjoying the interruption.

"You might benefit from telling me why you're here, Malfoy, or I'll have you. . . escorted out," Hermione replied with the same dryness in her voice, her mood already bad.

"Right," Draco said with an aggravated expression across his face. "I'll get right to the point then."

Hermione waited for him to 'get to the point' in silence but Draco seemed to take longer than expected to formulate himself accurately and his eyes were darting across the room frequently before he met her eyes.

"The point is that this meeting is of no importance to me," he said shortly. "I wish nothing more than not having this conversation with you," he added before he started to dig into his pockets after something.

She gaped, not understanding where those unprovoked words came from. She didn't tolerate bullying, less of bullying when the bully was the one ordering a meeting with her. Getting a meeting with her had been proven very difficult because of her sporadic – but highly vital - schedule she had been told by her latest client, Mrs. Eagleclaw, who by the way didn't insult her. "You're an arse," she said and felt proud of her witty comeback.

Instead of replying he fished up a white feather quill and tore a piece of parchment of one of her many scrolls on the desk and started to scribble something quickly. She watched bewildered at his irrational behavior and waited for him to finish.

"You're a disgrace to the law enforcement," Draco muttered. "Incompetent one must say," he added and gave her the note.

You're being eavesdropped on.
When does the Greengrass get off work tomorrow?
Draco had written on the note.

She glanced over his shoulder to look towards the door where two pair of the extendable ears had been. Slowly it dawned on her that the man in front of her was keen on noticing details and above that had trust issues. She pointed at her wrist and raised six fingers and he gave her the smallest nod she had seen in the history of mankind.

"I'll never come back to this rotten hole," Draco announced as he stood up with a dry tone, indifferently he rose seven fingers, pointed on the floor to set the place and gave her a last glance before he turned around to exit the room. She cursed silently when she found herself enjoying the view of Draco exiting a room.

After her moment of weakness she stood up, straightened her bun and headed towards the shut door. Opening the door she saw Draco finding Astoria on her knees on the floor with one ear plastered on the door and one extendable ear.

"What a convenient position for a Greengrass," she heard him say and he gave Astoria a taunting smile. The shame spread quickly across Astoria's face when she realized the full meaning in his words. "That reminds me, say hi to your sister," he added and went past Astoria and through the hallway towards the elevator, only stopping to exchange a few words with Nott before leaving the floor.

When the elevator doors shut behind Draco both Hermione and Astoria was reminded of each other's presence. Astoria stood up, brushed herself clean and faced Hermione, still with the red dots all over her face.

"Sorry," Astoria said, "I couldn't help myself to. . . It's just that – ,"

"Don't make it a habit," Hermione said with a forced voice and gave her the same icy stare before raising her wand and making the door go shut behind Astoria who seemed slightly relieved.

Hermione exhaled when she was sure that she wasn't being overheard, wondering what could be so important to Draco that it could not been said in front of Astoria. Astoria is, after all, the one who files and categorizes all the files and cases into the archive and she is the one taking her calls, making her appointments and sometimes giving her halfhearted advice. She sighed now, looking at the pile that was today's work and knowing that this new excitement and mystery that Draco brought into her office would occupy her mind for the better half of the day. And looking at yet another case that Nott failed to win she would not mind pondering about what it was that brought Draco to her office instead of the failure that maintaining Wizarding Law proved itself to be sometimes.

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