Disclaimer: The storylines and characters of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made off this endeavor.
A/N: I'm so glad that you guys liked it! Thanks for all the great reviews. By the way, I kind of have an outline already for this story, and will hopefully be able to make regular updates.
Chapter 2: Speak of the Devil
A moment passed as she stared at him, mouth open wide and wondering what in the name of Merlin she had done to deserve all this.
Didn't she help rid the world of an evil madman?
Didn't she try to free those pitiful House Elves from slavery (whether or not they wanted her to)?
Why oh why couldn't she get a bloody break!
From where she stood she could see that he hadn't changed all that much. Oh, he'd grown his hair out till it was now just above his shoulders, swept back past his forehead in a free-flowing, gel free style. His chin looked slightly less pointy, more filled out and manly, and there were lines around his eyes and mouth that weren't there before.
But other than that, it was the same ferrety Draco Malfoy.
"Well!" he barked, looking up from his writing "What are you standing there for? Close the door and come in!"
She jerked to life once more, walking stiffly towards the person she hated the most, trying to keep the involuntary scowl that was forming off her face. The result was that Draco glimpsed a slender young man with frankly quite delicate features and startlingly big blue eyes walk towards him, a constipated expression on his face. He frowned at him.
"Do you have a mental problem or something or are you always this slow? And what's with that look on your face?"
The man's deep blue eyes briefly flashed with anger and to his surprise, Draco felt a jolt of…something rush through him. It was as if his subconscious was remembering an event from the past that had no basis on this situation whatsoever. He saw a different set of green-flecked brown eyes and heard a high-pitched scream, feeling his cheek tingle not unpleasantly.
"No Mal-" the man started the say, and Draco frowned even deeper as he watched him struggle to school his face into one of amiable deference, "I mean," the man (no, boy really) corrected, "No Mr. Malfoy. I am not stupid or mentally deficient in any way. I was just surprised at seeing you as I did not anticipate that the famous Draco Malfoy to be the one I would have to work for."
That mollified him somewhat. I'm famous, eh? Maybe more than the odious Golden Trio? Though try as he might he could not figure out why, for some reason that sounded a little too…sugarcoated for his tastes. Like what he said was wrong in some fundamental way.
What's wrong with me? He thought. It's not as if I don't have a whole band of people trying to suck up to me on a daily basis. There's something about this man…something I don't like.
Sneering at him, he looked down at the employment papers that had been flooed over earlier today.
"So you're…Hugh Grant? What kind of a name is that?" He ignored her flinch and continued, "Aged twenty-three (blimey that was the same age as him!), graduated from Beauxbatons, and applying for the position of…" more papers shuffled around and Hermione could feel her armpits start to sweat.
Oh god please don't let me be found out please don't let me be found out, especially not by this inbred ferrety waste of space!
He snorted as he finally found the papers he was looking for, "Trainee Dragon Tamer. It figures."
She was immediately incensed but managed to control her anger only briefly to bite out a forced, "I assure you Mr. Malfoy, that while I may be inexperienced I have been more adequately well-trained at the Ministry's Center for Advanced Learning of Dragon Handling. I have all the qualifications and have also interacted with real Dragons in Romania under the tutelages of…" she gulped as she suddenly remembered something very vital, "Mr. Charlie Weasley and Mr. Hagrid..."
"The one from the family of church mice and that joke of a half-giant?" he interrupted, raising his eyebrows. "Obviously your training has not been adequate."
She quailed. Oh Merlin. She'd worked so hard! How could the fates let this happen, let all her dreams get shot down, by, of all people, Draco Malfoy! Oh this was just so unfair!
He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, pinching his nose bridge and closing his eyes as if trying to figure out the logistics of something, trying to come to a decision of some sort. And in that moment he seemed…sort of young and vulnerable. She immediately mentally slapped herself for thinking of Malfoy as vulnerable.
Finally, he opened his eyes and set them upon her piercingly. "Nevertheless, I am unfortunately short of one man." He let out a cynical bark of laughter, "All the other Dragon Taming companies have said that their men are otherwise hired. You could say that my reputation has…preceded me to a great extent?" That last part was muttered almost brutally under his breath, so softly that she almost did not hear it, but hear it she did.
"Therefore, I shall be forced to take you and your probable incompetence on into my team, and I should hope you will obtain the proper training from the other Dragon Tamers during this trip before you make a mess out of my entire project!"
Her heart leapt into her throat and she was once again speechless for a moment. Did she hear him right? He was going to take her on!
He looked up at her with an expression of mistrust, as if he expected her to jump out of her seat and attack him at any moment, which was, actually, a correct instinct of his as she was trying her best not to curse him then and there, despite his agreement to hire her services.
Her wand hand twitched from having to play nice to Malfoy for more than five minutes.
"You will meet here with all the rest of the team at eight a.m. sharp on Monday morning where you will portkey to Bulgaria. The pay has been stated in your contract, it is non-negotiable and you shall be given quarters to live in during the duration of the project. On weekends you will be given a portkey to come back to England, should you wish to do so. The duration of this project is two and a half months, and you fools had better keep to the time limit or I'll withhold the rest of your pay!"
She nodded fervently, writing all the information down on a piece of parchment with her usual veracity of note taking.
Once she was finished, she looked back up at him expectantly, but he merely scowled at her and said in a clipped tone, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get out of my sight."
"Yes Mr. Malfoy," she said, clumsily getting up from her seat and almost tripping over the rug, "Thank you Mr. Malfoy." She rushed out of the office without a second glance and slammed the door close, and as a result, did not see the highly intrigued expression on Draco's face.
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"Blimey Hermione!" cried Ron, slopping the overflowing mug of ale over the cracked wooden table, "I can't believe you actually have to work for that stupid git! How is it that he's out about town and making loads of money as usual and not in Azkaban in the first place?"
"Well Ron," she said, smiling wryly, "You're going to have to thank Harry here for that one. If not for his testimony, he very well might have been."
Harry mumbled something into his bottle of butterbeer about "stupid git Malfoys" and looked up at her earnestly, "Hermione, you do know that if I have ever, ever known this would have happened, that I would not have testified at his trial? That I would've spared you from this and sacrificed my morals instead? You do believe me, right? Because I would have!"
She laughed at him, the high-pitched sound of it traveling throughout the packed Leaky Cauldron. She was currently in her female form and was much more relaxed now that she didn't have a million people to deceive. "Well, Harry, thanks for the somewhat belated offer but I would never ask you to do that. Although the thought is appreciated!"
The three of them were currently in a jubilant mood, and had come out here for a night about town to celebrate Hermione's finally getting the job of her dreams.
Of course, a night about town meant a night spent drinking and generally eating whatever rubbish the Cauldron had to offer on a Friday night. Today's special was "Ye Olde English Fish and Chips", and little bits of fish and fried batter flew about from Ron's mouth as he gesticulated wildly, causing Hermione and Harry to scoot back slightly, "Yeah but seriously! Malfoy! You're seriously going to take his offer up? I mean, dragons, plus Malfoy! If that isn't a killer combination I don't know what is!"
"Oh hush Ron. Sure, I hate the ferret, and guess what? He's as horrible as ever, but…" and suddenly she grinned radiantly, so much so that Ron felt a brief pang of regret ring about in his chest, "But I'm going to be doing something I've wanted to for so long! I mean, after all the career changes and all that time spent in Gringotts and after the War…I mean, I feel as if my life is starting to pick up again, you know? Plus Malfoy probably won't want to get his hands dirty in the Bulgarian highlands, so I don't think I'll have to see him very much anyway."
"Well," Ron said, grinning giddily at her, "In that case I'm happy for you 'Mione."
"What did your parents say then?" asked Harry, leaning over the table, his hands curled around his drink on the tabletop.
"Oh..." and she blushed "um…I haven't actually told them anything yet…err…they think I'm still working at Gringotts…" she trailed off embarrassedly, and jumped in shock at the sudden gust of warm air beside her ear, and the presence of a very familiar man whose hair tickled her bare neck, leaning over her asking softly, "And who's still working at Gringotts?"
The furious gazes Harry and Ron were giving in her direction and the smell of that expensive cologne told her all she needed to know.
Malfoy. Just her luck.
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He straightened his expensive wool robes and smirked at them coolly.
He'd come straight for them like a shark going towards fresh blood the moment he'd opened the door to this foul establishment and had seen their happy faces. The Golden Trio in all their glory, Potter, Weasel, and their nanny, Granger. He'd had a bit of trouble spotting Granger at first, as her bushy hair was now cut in a short but chic style, golden brown ringlets held in place by clips.
He knew he shouldn't have gone to bother them. Knew that without their help, he would have never been out here, free in the world in the first place. But seeing them so happy…seeing her smiling like that like she had all the right in the world to, rosy cheeks and all…and it just wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that a church mouse, an orphan, and a mudblood could be so happy, when all he felt all the time was a deep sinking misery.
And like the jealous bastard that he was, that he always had been, he'd stridden over to torment them in his own special way, come to make them as unhappy as he was.
"So," he drawled, "If it isn't the Potty, the Weasel and…" he glanced over to her and for the second time that day felt a weird jolt at the bottom of his belly. Where had he seen that…He shook himself and continued, "And Granger. How lovely! A school reunion."
He could see a vein bulging in the Weasel's forehead and cackled inwardly at this show of his power over that useless swine that lasted even till today.
"Well," he continued, as he smoothly moved to sit next to Granger, pulling out the chair next to her and leaning back indolently, feet thumping loudly on the table and hands at the back of his neck, "How have you chaps been? No need to be so formal here, we're all old friends after all."
"Save it Malfoy." spat Ron. "What do you want? What are you doing here? You're after Harry again, aren't you! Admit it!" His face was practically boiling with pent-up rage and he stared daggers into Malfoy's clear forehead.
Hermione sat still, silent. She was fuming on the inside of course but the path to dealing with Malfoy was to always ignore him. He craved attention, and to give it to him would be to let him win.
Harry kept quiet as well, but there was something else there that kept him still, and it was not restraint. Rather, it was as if…as if they shared something, him and Malfoy. And it seemed to Hermione that Harry was observing Malfoy intently, looking for something with his auror-like intensity, and it made her shiver. He'd never told her what had transpired between the two of them during Malfoy's trial. What made Harry decide to testify for him, and what made Malfoy decide to become a turncoat against the Death Eaters.
"Why of course not! Why ever would I be after Harry? I'm no longer a Death Eater, if you must know. Haven't been for a long while." He chuckled easily, but Hermione could tell from the superficiality of it, as well as his brittle mood earlier this morning that he was not entirely at ease with his reputation as he seemed to be now.
"Speaking of Harry," and he turned to his other side and smiled genially, "So, I hear that you're an auror now? How fantastic! Wasn't that something you've always wanted to do?"
What the hell was he after? The whole thing was putting Hermione off immensely. Technically he'd been perfectly polite thus far, but she knew that there was something up.
"Yes, it was Malfoy." Harry replied, seemingly unperturbed, "And if you remember, I was already an apprentice when you were being held in Azkaban during your trial."
Ron gave a loud snort of laughter and Hermione cheered inwardly. Score one for Harry!
But Malfoy just smiled widely at them, showing his teeth.
Like a…like some kind of a carnivore, or a shark! Hermione thought as she steeled herself for what she knew was coming.
Swiftly, as if he had been planning this all along, he turned to Ron and asked in a casual manner, "And you, Ron? Are you an auror as well? A little bird told me you'd applied recently. I remember you being quite enthusiastic for this profession in Hogwarts too."
She could see Ron stiffen in his seat and she reached out a hand to hold his but he jerked it away.
The bastard. She thought. The evil, evil bastard. He knew the outcome of that application. And he knew the reason why it had failed to go through. He only wanted to torment Ron.
"Yes well," she interrupted, "Ron has decided that he has other interests."
"Like what?" Draco asked, eyes shining with glee, "Interests such as…oh, I don't know, being a store clerk for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes? Why, I never knew being a store man could be quite so interesting!"
Before she could even blink Harry had had his wand out and was pointing it at Malfoy's throat. "Get out of our faces ferret." he growled menacingly.
Malfoy looked surprised at the threat at his throat but if he was frightened he didn't show it.
"Well," he said as he stood and adjusted his collar. "It seems that I have out stayed my welcome. I'll be on my way then." But he stood up and walked away, he turned around and smiled evilly. "As a family member of the one that made you a squib I feel that it is my duty to apologize to you, Weasley. I do hope you get better soon. Squibs don't get employed to the auror services you know. Not," he laughed gaily, 'that they get employed to much else."
"I'M NOT A SQUIB!" burst out Ron as he jumped out of his seat and lunged for Malfoy. Chairs and tables toppled over and mugs of beer smashed to the ground as the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron gasped in shock. Malfoy sprightly moved one step back, causing Ron to miss, his momentum making him fall heavily face-first on the ground.
"Ron!" shouted Hermione as she scrambled over to see if he was all right. She lifted her furious yet tear-filled eyes at Draco and for a moment, but only a very short moment, Draco actually felt regret at what he had done. The moment passed however and a sneer once again adorned his aristocratic features.
"Get lost Malfoy!" she snarled, "No one wants you here. So get out of our lives and go back to that hole where you came from!"
And to her surprise, he actually looked stung by what she said. He blinked, and then turned around in a whirl of robes and walked out of the pub.
Sighing tiredly, she helped a shamefaced Ron to his feet and then cast several spells to clean everything up. "Show's over people, go back to your business."
Ron plunked back down onto his seat and placed his head in his hands, breathing heavily. Harry quickly ordered another butterbeer for him and the three of them sat awkwardly around the table.
Hermione and Harry looked uncomfortably at each other. This was a topic they never discussed, at least, not in front of Ron. "Ron…mate," Harry began, trying to sound comforting, "you know you're not a squib. You can still do lots of spells, and I'm sure that when you get better, you'll recover your full strength."
"Yeah," snorted Ron. "I can do spells for housework. Spells to wash dishes, spells to cut the carrots, and spells to summon the newspaper, and not much else. It's been more than three years since I was cursed by Lucius, so just leave it alone, Harry. I doubt I'll get better than I already am. So just leave me alone and let me drink in peace."
Hermione was hoping that they'd get over this by the end of the night and continued to converse gaily, telling jokes to try to make Ron laugh. But the mood had been ruined and after Ron had ingested three or so bottles of firewhiskey, she tiredly draped one of his arms around her shoulder and motioned for Harry to take the other. As one, the three trudged exhaustedly home.
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Monday morning saw Hermione waking bright and early, eager to begin her new phase in life. Her clothes (well, actually, Harry's clothes) were all packed in her suitcase, and as she shrunk the entire lot down to the size of a knapsack, she heard Ron and Harry come into her room.
"Hermione!" Harry chuckled, "You know, no one will believe you are a man from the way you pack! How much exactly was in there before you shrunk it?"
She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at him, an image that was quite incongruous to the image of manliness she was trying to portray.
Ron broke out in infectious giggles, and seeing him as such, she could not control herself, and gave in to the laughter as she pulled them towards her in a three-way hug.
"Oh Harry, Ron! I'm going to miss the two of you so much!"
"Oh come off it 'Mione!" Ron smiled, ruffling her now dark brown hair. He'd gotten over the incident at the pub by now, something that was no doubt helped along by a girl he'd successfully picked up – at the grocery store of all places!
"We'll be seeing you in a week you know," reminded Harry.
"I know," she replied contritely, "It's just that I'm so used to the two of you being around. Really, I don't know what I'd do without you two."
"Well you'll just have to find out now, won't you?" said Harry gently, "And besides, I don't think it's a case of you needing us, but more of a case of us needing you!"
She walked to the doorway of the old house, feeling slightly scratchy from the woolen sock that was stuck between her legs. She wondered if her waddling gait while walking with the sock really looked like how a man walked, as Harry and Ron had said, or if they were actually pulling her leg.
"Well, I'm off guys. Be good while I'm gone ok?"
"Yes mum," replied Ron glibly. She smiled fondly at him, and then apparated to the offices of one Draco Malfoy with a loud crack.
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Popping into the reception area, she smiled at Draco's secretary before moving to open the door to his office. She was feeling extremely nervous for some reason, and hoped fervently that the dragon tamers she would have to work with would all be as nice as Charlie Weasley. That would make things so much easier for her.
She took a deep breath, and then walked in.
And was immediately assaulted by the image of a fat man with his hands at his hips and his beer belly sticking out, shouting, "Well lookee here, we've got ourselves a fresh one lads!"
Well. He certainly was not like Charlie at all.
In fact, most of the crew in this motley group were not really like what she had envisioned when she pictured dragon tamers.
She took in the sight of the five other man arrayed at various positions in the office as she walked forward to introduce herself. Besides beer belly, an old codger with hardly any of his own hair left sat hunched over by the coffee table, looking sullenly at her as she walked by. Another, a mild-mannered looking bloke wearing wire-rim glasses stood by the large window overlooking central London. She was quite relieved to note however that two of the other men did look friendly enough, in much the same vein as Charlie had; one, tall with short blonde hair and friendly green eyes that crinkled at the sides when he smiled, and the other, with a cheeky smile and long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He reminded her of Sirius Black for some reason, what with his hair and tattoos running up along the sides of his exposed muscular arms.
She held her hand out to beer belly first, as he seemed to be the leader of this disparate group, "Hi! I'm Her…err…my name is Hugh Grant. Pleased to meet you."
The one with the tattoos gave a short bark of laughter, throwing his head back, "No kidding? Hugh Grant? Like that guy in Four Weddings and a Funeral?"
"Um…" she hesitated. "I take it that you're muggleborn?" Well, she certainly did not anticipate that!
But Beer Belly further surprised her by clapping her heavily on her back instead of shaking her hand, throwing her forward with the force of his slap. "Ungh!"
She only barely stopped herself from plowing into his protruding stomach.
"And I'm Frank McGuiness, son of old McGuiness, I trust that yer've met him?" he said in his loud booming voice. She straightened her body and flexed her shoulders, feeling as if a boulder had dropped on her back.
He sniggered at her motions, "Not a strong one, are yer lad? We'll toughen yer up yet trainee!"
She smiled weakly at him and then went to introduce herself to the other men in the room. Tattoo was, indeed, muggleborn. Named of Rhys Hackett, he'd been four years ahead of her at Hogwarts, and hailed from Ireland. His accent though was more Cockney than Irish Brogue however and when she asked him about it he replied that he'd lived in the East End of London almost his whole life. Blondie, who was actually Robben Van Buren ("call me Robbie") shook her hand firmly, whispering to "not mind all those old geezers", and that she'd have a fantastic time at Bulgaria, if she knew what he meant. She was going to say that no, she didn't know what he meant, before he drew the shape of a women's figure in the air with his fingers and winked at her. Then she blushed and, remembering Ron's advice, tried to smile a similarly knowing smile back at him before realizing that she made a terrible letch and that her smile was probably more anxious than perverted.
Glasses politely introduced himself as Alexander Davies, while the Old Codger had stared at her hand distrustfully before spitting out, "Bain Fogarty".
Smiling hesitatingly at them, she stared nervously at the black work boots she had transfigured from a pair of high heeled ones for a while before looking up and asking no one in particular, "So…aren't we leaving soon? Or are we waiting for one more person?"
"We're waiting for one more," replied McGuiness shortly. He did not elaborate further and she bit her lip and tapped her foot.
Suddenly, the door to Malfoy's office burst open and the devil himself stomped in. Hermione noted that his hair was in a mess and his eyes were murderous. He looked like thunder, and she thought that he had probably not gotten much sleep in the past few days.
Serves him right, she sniffed, hoping vengefully that he'd have many more of these sleepless nights to come.
"Well what are all of you staring at! Get into position! We've got no time to waste!" shouted Malfoy huffily. He motioned towards an old watering can on his desk and placed on hand on the spout. The rest soon followed but Hermione was stuck to her place.
Wait…something…something wasn't right with this picture. Hermione could feel herself panicking but couldn't figure out why.
And then she realized.
"Um…Mal-Mr. Malfoy…you're not coming with us, are you?" she blurted out weakly.
"Yes of course I am you fool!" he sneered at her. "Now stop wasting my time and let's get a move on!"
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about it.
