A/N: A nice long update! Let me know what you think. All reviews = love.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Hermione had been in a state of shock all weekend. The events that had unfolded Friday seemed like they were from a different life.
A different time.
Draco Malfoy, her first acquaintance with pureblood bigotry, had supported a venture to assimilate other magical races into wizarding businesses.
Not only that. He'd offered his own opinions, which though she may not have agreed with, had been surprisingly thought out.
She supposed that it was childish to continue to view him as he'd been a decade before. Even before the war, Draco Malfoy had begun to change.
Then there had been the war itself. She'd selfishly avoided his trial for the most part, catching newspaper clippings here and there that seemed to demonstrate a measure of sympathy toward him.
She hadn't been in a place to follow it extensively, but even the Weasleys had seemed to view him in a new light based on the articles and the trial, which Arthur and later Harry had been asked to attend.
She hadn't fully understood Harry's need to help Malfoy.
Narcissa had been easy to understand, but not her son.
Then, somewhere along the way he'd asked her to testify.
"There are things Hermione, things that I would be surprised if people survived that he has." Harry had taken a breath, "And I think he could be … better than he has been. If they send him to Azkaban, he never will."
So she testified, essentially repeating exactly what Harry had told her.
She hadn't given him much thought until she'd nearly ran right into him on the train back to Hogwarts for their 8th year.
He'd had his own compartment, she recalled, something about health reasons. At the time, that looked true. The guy had looked painfully thin, with skin that was graying all over his body.
That image had struck her when she'd seen him Friday.
He'd certainly come a long way.
At Hogwarts, he'd kept his head down, issuing apologies when needed but mostly just studying. She'd wondered for months if he would apologize to her. She'd given up on the thought when they'd reached the end of the year without having heard from him once on that matter.
Then, the letter had arrived the eve of graduation.
It had been three pages long, and her heart had broken and learned to beat over and over as she'd read through it. He hadn't excused his actions, but he had told part of his story while unknowingly also telling hers.
He'd written something in that letter that to this day she could quote perfectly word for word.
You're born and you have parents who love you as only they can, and you trust them implicitly. So, when they teach you the way of the world, you believe them.
At what point does it fall apart?
At what point do you stop seeing them as sources of truth?
By the time you realize you know better, the world is burning around you. Do you decide you have to think for yourself and forget everything that has been the foundation of your life?
Or is it easier to think rebelliously quietly and lie loudly if it means you save their lives?
He hadn't answered those questions, and to this day she wondered if she ever would get one. Draco Malfoy was still a Slytherin and still cowardly when it came to confrontations about emotions.
She'd never been able to get in touch with him, and she chalked it up to him wanting to make peace but nothing more.
Now he'd reappeared. No doubt called away from some sort of life of luxury where he could forget the past.
She shook her head as she gathered together her papers.
No matter. She likely wouldn't run into him again for another 7 years anyway.
Right now, she had an interview to prepare for.
Draco let out a breath as he walked the halls of the Manor. It was so different.
His mother had poured hours of her time into completely changing the house into something new. It had paid off in the end. It certainly felt as though he were walking these floors for the first time.
It was a relief really. He was already haunted, nearly on a nightly basis, from the memories that had occurred within this house that he hardly needed his waking moments filled with them as well.
It was part of the reason he'd had reservations about staying here, no matter how briefly.
He winced as he remembered the argument that had resulted when he'd spoken of his desires to live alone for a while.
His mother had been disappointed.
His father…
He had been borderline apocalyptic.
He'd been told in no uncertain terms that his dalliance on the continent had already been barely tolerated, but here in the eyes of society he had a role to play. It wasn't proper for him not to live on an ancestral property.
And the list just went on and on about propriety. And then...
He was disgracing his family legacy.
He'd gone to Theo's at that. Mostly to prevent himself from shooting back words to his father he only ever meant half the time.
They didn't really understand where he was coming from. He wanted, wanted so much, to simply be able to come home.
He just wasn't ready yet.
He sighed turning to the right and relaxing at the familiar sight of shelves upon shelves of books that made up the Malfoy library.
This room had always been a sanctuary, relatively untainted by a past he wished he could forget.
He lingered among the shelves, his finger trailing the spines of the books as he made his way near the back of the room.
He stopped before the back wall and glanced up at the tapestry hanging proudly.
It took up the entirety of the space, from the ceiling and ending not a few feet from the floor. The older generations were in smaller print, magically spelled to accommodate the current generation in larger text.
He sighed, his fingers coming to rest at the woven golden strands at the bottom.
His family legacy.
His feelings on it had changed so often that he scarcely knew what to make of the concept.
As a child, he'd been in awe. After all, this family was a family of princes and power; full of fantastic stories and … expectations.
He'd been weary of it later, as he grew older. There were responsibilities, a conduct that had to be maintained...and of course there were safety concerns. Watched at all times, by either his parents, some appointed nanny or guard, or by the people around him whenever he was out.
People wanted things from a family like the Malfoys. Favors. Influence. Money. Power...Marriage.
Part of him had craved the attention, but it was a hollow popularity. He had many acquaintances, but few friends and even fewer people he took in as confidants.
It had certainly been a revelation.
That his family legacy would make him lonely.
Then, it had been a burden. With the return of the Dark Lord, he was suddenly thrust into the middle of a conflict he had never truly desired to be a part of. Though, he supposed, that was one of many mistakes he'd made over the course of his life. He'd assumed that his own choices would actually be his instead of his family's.
So, the burden that had began with the war became a shackle following it. A noose that tightened around his neck as he attempted to simply fade into the background.
After Hogwarts, after he had left England….he'd tried to distance himself from the name, the legacy. While that was not completely possible, he'd enjoyed the peace that came without constantly being in the spotlight.
The peace that came without having to think about the family legacy he would still be expected to take up once more someday.
He dropped his hand quickly from the tapestry, instead using it to run through his hair hoping the action might rid him of some of the anxiety that had crept up on him at that thought.
It was not the first time those thoughts had crept up on him since returning.
After Friday.
After seeing her.
Gods and above the world had spun around him as those thoughts continued to circle and circle around his head, and he'd been unable to sleep. Drifting barely into a dream before waking in complete panic.
Then, with these walls so different, so the same, it had been difficult to discern what was dreams and what was a reality from another time.
He hadn't realized that just...the sight of her, Hermione Granger, would be enough to completely threaten any bit of mental health he'd managed to garner of the past few years.
He let out a breath. Though, maybe that was being dramatic. The night after had just been his normal insomnia. No more restless than it had been over the past few years.
It had probably just been the shock of seeing not one, but two members of that infamous trio all in the same day.
"You always did have an affinity toward this room."
He straightened instinctively at the voice, turning slightly and offering a dip of his head in greeting.
"It's the only familiar room in the house now." He said in reply as Lucius came to stand beside him. He turned to look at the tapestry and then slowly back to Draco.
"If you stayed, you would have plenty of time to become reacquainted with it."
He turned sharply.
"My decision hasn't changed." he said, clenching his jaw. "Try to understand. I came back so abruptly. I need time to readjust."
Lucius said nothing.
"In fact, if it weren't for the circumstances, I'd think that this was all some plot to get me to come back." He continued, watching his father.
His eyes widened for a moment, just as Lucius let out a breath.
"It was discussed." He admitted, "I wanted to engineer an attack on myself. Narcissa dissuaded me."
He felt his heart race at that, and he resisted the urge to reach up and rub at the ache that was developing in his chest.
"Why?" he finally managed to say.
Lucius turned to face him fully, his eyes sweeping across his features.
"Because I wished for you to come home."
He held his breath.
"This is your home Draco. Despite what you keep trying to convince yourself." Lucius paused for a moment, "You have responsibilities here."
Ah. That word again.
"Your performance Friday certainly showed you were capable."
He forced his face to remain blank as he spoke, voice devoid of emotion.
"I didn't realize you were so interested."
Lie. But it was more eloquent than throwing out accusations about being followed.
"You did manage to charm most of the court." Lucius continued as though he hadn't interrupted, "But."
"Well I apologize that my performance was not completely up to your standards." Draco said cutting off.
Lucius shot him a hard look at the interruption, but he found that it hardly phased him.
"As I was saying, you charmed the court, though in the future you may not want to be so candid with your true opinion. Later on, when you have two votes to your name, it would be to your benefit to be discrete."
Draco remained silent. It wouldn't be worth pointing out that he had hardly been candid, nor had that particular legislation required discretion. Open opposition to it would have been damaging to their family, which would have been enough to vote as he did. Nevermind that he well and truly supported the idea.
"To be frank, I'm pleased you've shown some aptitude and interest in one of your roles. I have tolerated your other endeavors and, though you're academic achievements have brought you renown, they have distracted you from continuing to learn and take on your true responsibilities."
"I am not Lord Malfoy yet." He said.
"Maybe not in practice, but-"
"What do you want from me father?" Draco stepped forward, letting his hands fall to his sides in defeat.
Lucius looked baffled for a moment at his display, before his expression hardened. Though, that look -
In his eyes, there was almost something tender that spoke of how he'd spoken to him when Draco had been young and still frightened of monsters lurking beneath his bed.
"I want you to take up your legacy and accept it as part of who you are. I do not want to see our family fall into -"
"But how much farther can we fall?" he interrupted quietly, "You have already so graciously showed us the bottom."
Pain flitted across his father's face. "Draco-"
"Don't worry father." He said stepping back, "By the time I am officially Lord Malfoy, you won't be around to see the disgrace I will be." He dipped his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work."
With that he turned on his heel, not bothering to turn back once despite hearing his name called as he continued to walk on.
Hermione tried not to gawk as she stared up at the 7 story building before her.
It was sleek, resembling some of the more modern buildings of the Muggle world, with large glass windows and white accents.
The group had only been here a week at most. How had they managed to find such a beautiful work space already?
She stepped in and let her eyes drift up the large open stairwell that appeared to lead straight to the top, with the lifts just past it at the end of the hall.
There were people still working on some of the paint, hanging various signs, and assembling some of the furniture for the lobby area. Enough had been completed though that she had a decent picture of how it was all going to look.
Beautiful.
She felt her gut twist. She could feel it in her bones. She had to work here.
She shook her head, clutching her folio tight to her chest as she scanned the area for someone she could ask about her interview.
She was walking toward the one secretary desk set up when she heard her name being called.
She turned abruptly, nearly stepping back in shock as her recognition registered.
Blaise Zabini was currently walking toward her with an uncharacteristic grin on his face. "Ms. Granger." He repeated, "You're here for the interview right?"
She nodded numbly, somewhat confused to see such a familiar face here of all places.
He reached out to shake her hand, which she did after a moment's hesitation.
"I...you work here?" she blurted out before immediately blushing at her impertinence.
Blaise laughed, "I do. I'm one of the secondary investigators."
She felt her face grow even hotter at that. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"
Blaise waved her off. "It's completely fine Ms. Gran-:
"Hermione." She interrupted, "You can call me Hermione."
Blaise nodded, a thin smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "Alright Hermione. If you'd like, I can walk you to where you need to be."
She nodded gratefully.
"So how many of you work here?" She questioned as he led her toward the lifts.
"Masters?" Blaise asked. At her nod, he continued, "There are four of us from the original group from Geneva. We have some other potioneers and herbologists. We get interns from time to time."
"Students?" She asked.
"I have one now." Blaise said with a smile, "We've had a few others in the past too."
She nodded.
Blaise stopped for a moment, gesturing with his head. "Well this is you. Good luck, though I doubt you will need it."
"Thanks." She murmured stepping forward into the office, her folio tight against her body as Blaise's footsteps faded to nothing behind her.
She knocked once at the door, and stepped fully inside when she heard a voice ask her to come in.
"Just have a seat."
She turned around slightly taking in the large office. It was quite nice with a large window to her right and a beautiful dark wooden desk positioned in the center of the room. She strained her neck and saw that this office seemed to connected to another small room off to the side.
He must be in there.
She settled in one of the chairs before the office, her gaze drawn to some of the paintings that were still leaning against the wall waiting to be put up.
"Now I'm sorry, but I haven't had a chance to review your resume, but you-"
She turned at the voice and froze at the sight before her.
"Malfoy." She exclaimed.
He looked about as surprised as she felt. His eyes wide and his jaw slack as he seemed to struggle to register her presence before seemingly focusing on the file in her hands. He ran a hand through his hair before slowly stepping closer.
"You're the one here for an interview?" He asked his voice calmer than she would have expected given the circumstances.
She merely nodded, unsure if she could even manage a single word.
He let out a breath before nodding to himself and coming around to take a seat at the desk. He looked at the file in her hands, and she silently handed it to him.
"You work here?" She blurted out just as he opened her file.
He set it down on the desk.
"I'm the primary investigator." he said.
Her mouth parted into an 'o' as he turned to continue glancing through her papers.
Malfoy was the primary investigator. Meaning, Malfoy had been living in Geneva since who knew when.
Meaning, Malfoy would be her boss.
She didn't know how she felt about that.
Sure, they'd all changed since they were children, but how much could someone really change? How had he even gotten into the field? Decided to research about the werewolf infection?
Was he just in it for fame?
She didn't think that was the case, but she'd never known Malfoy to be anything but interested in his own affairs. She'd hardly label him altruistic or compassionate, and him working here in this job was tearing down all of those character traits.
What was real?
She studied him intently, unable to shake the anxiety that krept onto her the longer she studied him. Especially not when her eyes drifted for a moment to his left forearm.
She shook her head.
"How." she cleared her throat, "How did you get into this?"
He looked up from her proposal. He studied her face for a moment before letting out a breath and closing the file.
"My mentor, when I was studying, had some interest in the area. He was looking more into the transformative properties as a magical trait at the time." Malfoy said, his eyes growing distant as he seemed to recall the memory. "I took an interest in it, and when I finished I put down a proposal and applied for a grant. I got one from the Geneva Academy of Magical Science and moved there."
She nodded. It didn't seem out of the ordinary, but she found she couldn't relax under his heavy gaze.
Had he always been this intense?
She supposed he had. She'd only been able to ignore it due to her own righteous anger that had sparked whenever in his vicinity. Though that had later morphed into neutral distance.
But here.
Face to face.
It was hard to ignore just how thoroughly Malfoy seemed to evaluate a person.
"You don't trust me." He finally said sitting back in his chair, with a look of vague….disappointment.
"I don't-"
He shook his head, stopping her from continuing.
He let out a sigh. "Your proposal is very interesting Miss Granger." He said formally, "It's actually not too far off to what we have been doing this past year. Your take on some of the protocols is quite unique."
He reached over and handed her the file.
"I have one colleague who already has a student, and at this point in her thesis, I don't think he would be comfortable taking on a second."
Her heart pounded, unsure where this was headed.
"My two others, well, one is looking to retire in a few years and will probably decline to take on a student. The other is looking to scale back on his hours once his wife delivers their first child." Malfoy took a breath, "So you see, the only person you'd be able to work under would be me, and I can already see that that will be a problem."
She sat up, "How can you say that? Is it just because of our shared history? I assure you it wouldn't"
"It's not because of our shared history." Malfoy interrupted, "Though that is no doubt a contributor. No Ms. Granger, it is because you can't trust me."
She fell silent at that. "It's not like you've given me reason to." She said after a moment, immediately regretting it when Malfoy's face hardened. "I'm sorry I didn't mean-"
"No, I think we both knew exactly what you meant." He interrupted her.
"Do you blame me?" She said, unable to keep her voice from rising higher, "We have a handful of civil interactions and a lifetime of hatred and arguments. Forgive me if I need a moment to comprehend how a school yard bully had such a radical change of heart to begin researching a cure for creatures he once condemned."
She gasped for breath before clamping a hand over her mouth. Oh Christ. What had she done?
Malfoy looked at her. His face was impassively stony, but his eyes...she thought he looked like he was incredibly in pain for a moment before they seemed to clear and shift to match the rest of his demeanor.
He cleared his throat for a moment, letting his eyes drift back to her file that still lay open on his desk. He clenched his jaw before he sat back in his chair.
"A Mastery is no easy feat Ms. Granger." He began, continuing on as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. That she hadn't just insulted him by throwing his past right into his face.
"You will be frustrated, angry, discouraged, maybe even miserable. Probably all in the same day." He said without looking up from where he was gathering her papers together and neatly replacing them into the file.
She felt herself lean forward as his voice seemed to drop lower as he continued.
"And without a mentor that you are comfortable with sharing all your successes and failures...without someone to offer you lessons, it becomes infinitely harder." Malfoy said leaning forward, "I can't work with someone who doesn't trust me."
She longed to simply crumple in on herself as she felt her cheeks heat not just in embarrassment but at the way he'd suddenly begun to look through her rather than examine her.
Like she was nothing.
"I am not the person I once was. I can't instill fear in you and intimidate you into listening to me, and I won't wait for something to inevitably go wrong for you to come to me asking for help. This is an incredible place to work and learn, but it is also dangerous. People can be hurt if things don't go right."
How could he maintain his composure still? How could he still stand to look at her and speak calmly to her after the words that had flown out of her mouth?
He folded his arms against his chest, and for a moment, he looked like he was in physical pain.
"I have no doubt that you would be as professional as possible in that regard." He paused before he focused on her once more, "but...like I said. I can't work like that."
He looked at her then. Challenging her to contradict him. To fight for herself. Defend herself. Anything.
Maybe it was just the shock of unexpectedly being interviewed by Malfoy. Or Maybe it was because of her utter mortification at having so thoroughly destroyed her chances of convincing him that they could work together despite their shared history.
Either way, she found she couldn't.
"I understand." She said quietly before picking up her folio and walking swiftly out of the office without another word.
She barely registered any of the sights flashing before her as she managed to leave the building and walk back out on the streets.
She somehow managed to get to the Ministry, and then as though on autopilot, she managed to ride the lifts up to the Auror office.
"Hey Hermio-"
She blinked as hands came up and held her by the arms firmly.
"Hermione are you ok?"
She caught sight of bright emerald eyes, and just like that, she seemed to be brought back into the present.
"I...I'm fine Harry." She managed.
He cast her a doubtful look; though, there was obvious relief in his face that she'd somehow snapped out of it.
"What happened?" he asked.
She shook her head, dropping her folio onto his desk.
"I...I got rejected."
Harry's eyes widened. He bit his lip, and after a moment, he left his office. She could hear his voice, muffled as he spoke to someone else and in a moment he was back.
"Come on. I think Ginny is home early today from practice." He grabbed her by the hand and slowly they walked to the floos.
"Hermione!" She turned and flashed a weak smile as Padma Patel rushed up to the pair of them.
"Oh I'm glad I caught you both." She grinned, "I just wanted to remind you about."
"Wednesday." Hermione finished, "I'll be there Padma."
Padma grinned, her short bob swishing slightly as she let out a breath. "Good. Sorry, I just...I'm nervous and."
Hermione felt her smile turn genuine as she hugged the girl she'd grown close to in their shared 8th year at Hogwarts.
"It's be great. Don't worry."
Padma shot her a grateful look as she pulled away. She looked at them both for a moment, before a frown replaced her smile.
"Are you alright Hermione?"
She shook her head, biting her lip. "I'll tell you later."
Padma nodded, shooting a look at Harry that clearly told him to take care of her. She grinned at the sight as she was led on to the floo.
"Grimmauld Place." Harry called out and in minutes they were whisked away in the green flames.
They were just settling in the kitchen when Ginny's voice rang out, "Harry is that you?"
Her footsteps echoed as she rushed into the kitchen pausing in the doorway to take in the sight of them.
She took a tentative step into the room.
"What's going on?"
And like that she broke, her story pouring out of her as both Ginny and Harry listened without once interrupting.
When she was done, she practically collapsed into a seat at the kitchen table.
Ginny cleared her throat after a moment, her eyes drifting between Harry and Hermione.
"Hermione you should have fought for it."
She sat straighter at that. "I just told you that he said he wouldn't work with me."
Ginny shook her head. "He said he wouldn't work with you if you couldn't trust him, and by Merlin you should at least trust the man not to sabotage his own career."
"But that's the thing, what if this is all just about his image? The principle of it would be wrong." She protested.
"I doubt that's the reason behind 7 years of his life Hermione."
She turned to Harry, her jaw slack as she gaped at him.
Harry sighed running a hand through his hair. "Look, I've had to work with Malfoy before. Hell, I've read the bloke's file, I don't think anyone goes through that kind of shit and commits that much of his life to something unless he's actually changed."
"Beside," Ginny interjected, "He's brilliant Hermione. It would have been an opportunity of a lifetime. The guy has been awarded numerous times for his work and that potion that's about to change thousands of werewolves' lives was his idea."
Hermione frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied the other girl's face. "How do you know so much about Malfoy?"
Ginny shrugged. "Well every once in a while he gets mentioned in Witch Weekly, and he was also in that thing that you were in. That 30 under 30 list. He was number 1."
Hermione's breath caught. "What?" she said lowly.
Ginny gave her a funny look. "I mean didn't you read it? You were in it for goodness sake."
30 under 30. By Merlin, that list was an international display of the most accomplished witches and wizards under 30. Malfoy had been number 1…
"I...I was number 11. They only gave personal interviews to the top 10." she murmured, "I was so busy, and I didn't really have to worry about them misrepresenting my words so I put off reading it -"
"And then forgot." Ginny surmised, "Well I think I still have a copy somewhere. Give me a minute."
She darted out of the kitchen and back upstairs before reappearing a few seconds later.
"There." Ginny said placing the opened magazine before her. She glanced down noting a picture of Malfoy and before the interviewer with a small smile on his face, nodding and occasionally his mouth would move, probably as he answered questions.
She furrowed her brows, entranced at how relaxed he seemed in the photo.
"It's about 2 pages long, most of it is about his work. The last few questions are about his personal life, but it all reads very naturally." Ginny continued.
She nodded, her eyes scanning the first page as she began to read.
"You're certainly an enigma to the academic world Mr. Malfoy. You finished not 1, not 2, but 3 different degrees within a 3 year period, becoming the first in over a decade to hold two Masteries, and the first wizard under the age of 40 to have completed them at the same time."
Mr. Malfoy laughed. "Well, you see the first was a choice, the other two were happy accidents."
"How does someone accidentally finish a Mastery in both Potions and Charms while also completing Healer training?"
Mr. Malfoy seemed embarrassed for a moment at his accomplishments being so openly praised. "I came into university with only vague ideas of what I wanted to do. The only thing I really knew was that I liked potions." He explained, "I started some coursework, and pretty soon I started pulling together various topics of interest. After a few classes, it only seemed natural to just add in the Charms."
"And the Healer training?"
Mr. Malfoy smiled, folding his arms as he leaned into his chair. "That was more of a personal interest. I was taking electives in potion development for healing and interning in the Department of Spell Damage and Poisons at the University Hospital. I'd see one thing and suddenly want to learn about another. I think after 3 years that they were all so used to seeing my face, they just assumed I was a student." He joked before growing serious. "If I'm being honest, I took to healing because it seemed more like a break from all the theory I was constantly being taught. It was application based, and in healing, you see results. You walk out of a shift knowing you healed these many patients. You did this. In lab work, you can go years without making any headway. In healing, you get it in the first few minutes."
"Let's talk about that, headway in the lab. You certainly made some headway with the paper you along with the rest of your colleagues at the Geneva Group published earlier this year. This potion you've developed is both the first of its kind and has the potential to impact thousands upon thousands of lives, making a mark on history so much more significant than even wolfsbane when it was first discovered."
"Well now you're making me blush. Flattery will get you nowhere you know." Mr. Malfoy teased before adopting a more serious expression, "But honestly, it was a group effort that resulted from many hours of work and thousands of cups of caffeine. We're all very proud and very excited. This has been an extraordinary project to work on, and it's only been made better by all the people I've had the pleasure to work with. We're doing a lot of amazing things that have revolutionized the field. It's a great time to be in academia, and I'm fortunate that I could be a part of it."
She looked up, swallowing roughly.
"I can't believe I didn't hear more about this."
Or that the Malfoy Family hadn't capitalized on the publicity.
Ginny shrugged. "Unless you're in one of those fields, I guess you wouldn't really be paying attention to specifics."
"I…"
"Take it." Ginny said, "Read the whole thing, and when you're done you should think of how you're going to go back to Malfoy and convince him to take you on as a student."
"Gin. I practically ran out of there." She blushed, hiding her face into her hands, "I completely humiliated myself. I can't go back."
"He won't hold it against you." Ginny insisted, she turned to Harry shooting him a meaningful look to back her up.
Harry cleared his throat. "I really think he wants you to work with him. I mean you are Hermione Granger, and you have your own ideas and brilliance. He just wants you to trust him enough so that you guys can work together." He let out a breath, "I think that if after that" he pointed to the magazine, "You don't think you understand Malfoy a little better, at least you'll trust his abilities as a mentor."
Hermione nodded. She could at least convince herself that that was a possibility. She doubted that one interview in a magazine was going to completely change her perspective on Draco Malfoy as a person, but at least she'd get a better picture of who he was as a scholar.
Harry shuddered then.
"I can't believe I just defended Malfoy...for a whole bloody conversation." he exclaimed.
Hermione caught Ginny's eyes, and the two burst into laughter.
She was still grinning when she took the article into her hands and headed to the floo a few minutes later.
It seemed she had some reading to do.
"I can't believe you turned her down."
Draco sighed, loosening the tie around his collar as he fell back into his seat. He ignored Blaise for a moment, calling over the bartender. She was a pretty girl. vaguely familiar, He realized the closer she got.
"What can I get you?" She asked politely.
"Double shot of whiskey."
"Single." Blaise interjected, "Bring out a single, Hannah."
Ah. That was her name. Hannah Abbott. No wonder he'd thought her familiar.
Hannah bit her lip for a moment before nodding. "Sure thing."
As she turned away, he glared at Blaise whose response was only to raise a brow in his direction.
"I'm not taking you home sloshed."
"From one double shot?" He snorted.
Blaise gave him a meaningful look, "I doubt it's going to be your only drink for the night."
He said nothing to that, conceding that Blaise was probably right on that account. Though, that part of him...that part that always had to rebel against anyone showing him the least bit of concern wanted to lash out.
"What do you care if I end up home sloshed or not? I'm a grown man." he murmured just as Hannah slid his drink before him.
"Really Draco, what do I care?" Blaise said.
He winced at the edge in Blaise's voice, rubbing his face with his hands before letting them drop to rest on the back of his neck.
"I know. I know." He finally said quietly before taking one hand and lifting his drink to down in a single go. "She's got a great resume. Pretty advanced proposal for a new student."
Blaise nodded, slipping into the seat beside him.
"She's still got a lot to learn, but it's Granger." He continued, "I...Would you take her on?"
Blaise blinked for a moment, the only sign he was shocked at the abrupt change of subject. He thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"With April's thesis so close and my own work, I don't think I'd have much time to train up a new student."
Draco nodded, having concluded as much himself.
"It would have had to be me. Warren won't take on a student now, and Kate's going to retire."
He tugged at the strands of his hair that were long enough now to brush the skin of his neck.
"You should have seen how shocked she was." he said lowly, tracing the rim of his glass with a finger, "She couldn't even believe it was me, and then she just shut down. Didn't want to speak at first."
"You didn't turn her down because she didn't speak to you." Blaise paused for a moment, "Because that would be petty, even for you. The girl was probably still processing the situation."
He shook his head, snorting. "No. It wasn't that." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, "She could barely look at me Blaise, couldn't look me in the eyes. I don't even think she realized it, but she…." he trailed off gripping his forearm tight.
Blaise glanced down at the gesture, understanding dawning on his face.
"Every so often her eyes would dart down and linger there, and I just wanted.." He shook his head, "Maybe I did turn her down, because I'm a self-centered prick. I just couldn't stand the thought of having to work with her, offering her critiques and suggestions that she would always second guess. That whenever she looked at me." His hand tightened around his arm, "That that would always be in the back of her mind. That she would always be waiting to see if I was going to sabotage her work. She'd never have trusted me, and she made that abundantly clear."
He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.
"I told you. I keep telling all of you." he opened his eyes and met Blaise's gaze, "That it doesn't matter what I do, I'm always going to be the boy who...who could make those choices."
Blaise said nothing for a moment. "She doesn't understand, maybe if she did…"
He shook his head, cutting him off. "That's all hypothetical. I only care about the facts."
He sighed, "Why'd you even send her to me?"
Blaise looked down at the bar counter, a finger lazily tracing patterns into the dark wood.
"She came highly recommended."
Draco's eyes narrowed, "From who?"
"Andromeda."
He swore lowly before reaching into his pockets and flinging a few coins onto the counter to cover his drink. "Meddlesome witches. Always trying to interfere with my life."
He stood, grabbing his outer robes from the back of his chair.
"Do you blame them?" Blaise said, watching him as he angrily put them back on.
He straightened the collar of his shirt, letting out a breath practically feeling some of his anger deflate at the action.
"No." He shook his head, "I'll see you tomorrow Blaise." With that, he spun on his heel and walked briskly out of the Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione was barely home a minute before she stumbled into her room and collapsed on her bed with the article open.
Draco Malfoy had lived an interesting 7 years, first in France then in Geneva.
Ginny hadn't been kidding when she'd said he'd been awarded multiple times for his work. The man had gotten the wizarding world's equivalent of a Nobel Prize.
He'd worked as a Healer.
He'd donated several fortunes into other research projects, into charities.
He'd even mentioned some that she had personally chaired, though she didn't recall his name on the donor.
Unless…
Oh Merlin. Every so often they'd received anonymous donations, large increments but nothing too suspicious.
But why donate anonymously?
It wouldn't grant him any recognition…unless he didn't care for that.
She dug deeper, but the article only served to add more questions to her growing list.
Something had fundamentally shaken Draco Malfoy, and the war wasn't the only thing behind that. He had practically cut all ties with England, with his home.
His family.
Perhaps Lucius was no loss, but Hermione couldn't even recall the last time that Draco Malfoy had even been seen with Narcissa.
And that bond was much stronger.
She let out a breath. She'd reached nearly the end of the article. As Ginny had mentioned, the last few questions looked to be more personal.
Well, in for a penny in for a pound.
"You're professional and academic life are no mystery to our readers, but we all know next to nothing about who you are behind all this."
Mr. Malfoy smiled slightly, "My privacy is very important to me."
"Indulge us a little. You make a total of 2 social appearances every year, the dinner at the Academy of Magical Sciences in Paris and the International Amnesty Charity Auction every winter in Geneva. You're last publicized relationship ended over 4 years ago. Not exactly the history one would expect from one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Atlantic."
"Again with the flattery." Mr. Malfoy joked. He seemed to consider something before he let out a breath. "Well I suppose there's no harm in confirming that I'm not seeing anyone."
"Interested in anyone?"
Mr. Malfoy remained silent, folding his arms as a look of amusement settled on his face.
"Let me rephrase. What qualities do you look for in a potential romantic interest?"
Mr. Malfoy sighed. "You all just don't quit." He paused, "Well, I think I want what anyone wants, someone who I could build a life with, an equal. I want." He laughed, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"Well what the hell," He said, "I want someone who makes me want to work hard even on Fridays, but makes me forget I have to work on Monday."
"Quite a contradiction."
Mr. Malfoy shrugged a mischievous spark in his mercurial eyes. "I like contradictions. I think they've been the only constant thing in my life since I started school at 11 years old."
Hermione's breath caught as she skimmed the end of the article, her mind still hung up on those last few words. There was a slight shake in her hands as she closed the magazine and deposited it at her bedside table.
She was no closer to knowing or even understanding Draco Malfoy, but what she did know was that she had severely misjudged who he had become.
