A/N: I own nothing.


Unfortunate Event Three:

The Wide Window


"I can't believe this." Ron Weasley said, letting out a low whistle as he stared in awe through the glass panel of the large corporate box. "You get to go to Quidditch matches as part of your job, and you don't even appreciate it."

"Hence why I brought you and Harry," Hermione answered, unimpressed by the sight of the Falmouth Falcons and Puddlemere United warming up on the pitch. "And it's not that I don't like Quidditch. I'm just not in love with it like the two of you."

"Admit it, you're scared of some person falling off their broom, landing on your head, and making you stupid," Ron said.

"Well, at least there is glass separating you from the field," Harry said, tapping his knuckle against the wide window. "You don't need to worry about some stray bludger or player hitting you."

"I still don't understand what the big deal is. It's not like this is the World Cup," Hermione said.

Ron shook his head, voice full of disbelief. "Falmouth and Puddlemere have won five of the last eight league titles between them, and they are the only undefeated teams left this season. The outcome of this game could determine who wins it this year." Ron sighed, clearly disappointed in Hermione's lack of interest. "I don't think you realize just how difficult it is to get tickets for this match. George has been trying for months."

"Aren't you a Cannons fan? Maybe I should have invited George instead." Hermione turned to her red-headed friend, smiling as he spluttered in outrage.

"Of course not! I won these fair and square."

"I gave those to you," Hermione said.

"As you should have. I've been your friend for ages, and what has George done for you? Besides, you owe me for choosing not to date me."

"Smooth, Ron. Real smooth." Harry interjected, resting his forehead in his right hand in feigned embarrassment.

"Aw, she knows I'm kidding."

Fortunately, he was. Ron bore no ill will for Hermione's decision not to pursue anything further than the one kiss they had shared during the final battle at Hogwarts. Things had been awkward between the two for a few months but quickly returned to normal once Ron started dating his on-again, off-again, currently on-again girlfriend, Lavender Brown.

An attendant approached the group, asking if they wanted anything to drink.

Harry and Hermione both asked for butterbeer; Ron ordered a firewhisky.

As soon as the attendant walked away, Hermione rounded on him. "You better not embarrass me by getting drunk."

"Yes, mother."

"Ron, I'm serious. I have to work with these people."

"I'm just curious, but what exactly does a Quidditch match have to do with magical creatures?" Harry asked.

"It's one of those silly networking things. Supposedly some business bigwigs are here, and my boss wants me to get to know them. They could be potential donors," Hermione said.

"Interesting," Ron and Harry said in unison, clearly not meaning it. She couldn't blame them. This was probably the worst part of her job, and she thought it wholly unnecessary.

The attendant returned with the drinks, passed them out, and left.

Having not seen the boys for a while, Hermione was intent on catching up in what little time she had before the game. She knew once it started, they would be lost. "So, Ron, how are things with you and Lavender?"

"Good, I guess."

"You guess?" Harry said, "Don't tell me you're thinking of breaking up with her again."

Ron just shrugged. "Haven't decided yet, but Lavender understands I'm too young to be tied down. A guy like me needs a long leash."

"So, basically, you're saying you're a dog?" Hermione said, grinning all the more at the way Harry tried to hide his laugh behind a cough.

"Exactly. Wait. What? No!" Ron scowled. "This is why things would never have worked out between us. At least Lavender gets me."

"I'm just teasing, Ron. You and Lavender are perfect for one another, and if you break up with her again, I will kill you myself."

"Enough of my love life." Ron grumbled before brightening, "Let's talk about Harry's."

"Uh…" Harry said.

"You've been dating Ginny for almost two years. Any plans to marry her?" Hermione said.

"You don't need to answer that, mate," Ron said.

Harry cleared this throat, taking another swig of butterbeer. "We're taking things slowly. I mean, I'm only in my second year as an auror, and she just got on the Harpies team. We'll see how the relationship works long distance and go from there. I guess."

She was just about to ask another question when Ron said, "Geez, Hermione, what's with the inquisition?"

"I'm just curious is all."

"And what about you? Any plans to get your first boyfriend?" Ron said, a little bit too loudly.

"Ron," Hermione hissed, eyes opened wide in alarm. "Lower your voice."

"What? Nobody's even listening."

Hermione gave a quick scan of the room, which was beginning to fill up as the start of the game approached. Thankfully, it seemed he was right.

"No, I don't have any plans to start dating any time soon. I don't like anyone, and even if I did and he were to reciprocate my feelings, I don't have the time to invest to actually make a relationship work."

Ron screwed his face into a look of mild disgust. "You make it sound like it's homework or something."

"Good thing she's always liked homework," Harry said, no doubt trying to quell a potential argument.

Ignoring Harry, Hermione said, "Not homework, Ron. Hard work. If I can't do it right, I don't want to do it at all. So until I'm at a place in my life where I can actually contribute in some meaningful way to a relationship, I prefer to stay single."

"That's a relief," Harry said, eyes alight with mischief. "Rumor around the Ministry is that you and Malfoy will soon be an item."

Ron burst into laughter, while Hermione spit out the sip of butterbeer she had been about to swallow. "What?! Where did you hear that?!" she demanded.

"Who cares? It's not like it's true," Harry said.

"I care. I want to know," she said.

"Come on, Hermione. No one who knew you would actually believe it."

"Harry James Potter, tell me now."

"I don't know, some guy in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Hermione gasped. "Pansy!"

"Huh?" Ron said, asking for clarification.

"Pansy is dating Lancelot Kiely."

"So?"

"Lancelot works in that department. She must have told him that, and he told it to someone else, and so on."

"By why would she think something was going on between you two?" Harry said.

"She's clearly delusional," Hermione said.

"You haven't even seen Malfoy in a year," Ron said.

"Actually, I ran into the both of them two weeks ago at Andromeda's house when I was babysitting Teddy. Blaise and Goyle also showed up."

"What were they doing there?"

"Long story. Basically, I was babysitting Teddy for the weekend, even though Andromeda had scheduled Malfoy to cover for me the first night. There was a mix-up—Malfoy's fault of course—and he left when I arrived. The next day, he showed up and brought the rest of his gang with him before they all took off and went to lunch."

"So Malfoy is still hanging out with the same people from Hogwarts?" Harry said.

"I can't imagine him making many new friends. The Malfoys are pretty much pariahs now." Hermione said.

"Not to mention he's a grade-A prat. Who'd want to be friends with him?" Ron asked.

"Teddy," Hermione said without thinking.

Her two friends looked over at her in shock. "Every time he's around Malfoy, his hair turns blond." Hermione explained. "I'm not kidding. He's in love with Malfoy."

"Just like his baby-sitter," Ron said. "When can we expect a wedding date?"

"How about never," she said.

"Where's your sense of romance, Hermione?" Harry said, pretending to stare off into space with a dreamy look on his face. "Sworn enemies whose differences melt away in the fire of their all-consuming love." Harry looked back at her, grinning widely. "Isn't it every girl's fantasy to tame the bad boy?"

"Maybe every stupid girl's fantasy," Hermione said. "Besides, Malfoy's too much of a coward to be truly bad."

"So if he isn't truly bad that means he's a little good. Sounds like she's warming up to him already, Harry," Ron said. Then he started to make kissing noises. Were it not that she was attending a work function, Hermione would have punched him. Repeatedly. "Oh, do grow up!"

"Oh, Draco," Ron said in a high pitched voice. "Let me have your blond, Slytherin babies."

"Not in a million years, Weasley."

The three of them whipped around, staring horrified at an amused Malfoy.

After the shock wore off, Hermione looked at her friends. Harry was shaking from the effort it took to keep him from laughing, while Ron was as red as a tomato.

"Well, I know you have work to do, Hermione. Ron and I will just go get settled for the game. Nice seeing you, Malfoy. Cheers." Then Harry led a mute Ron toward the bar.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Malfoy said.

"Actually, you did."

"Still sore about what happened last time? That was over two weeks ago. It's not healthy to carry grudges, Hermione."

"I told you not to call me that."

"Why? That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but…" It just didn't feel right. Last names implied distance. Distance from Malfoy was familiar, and Hermione didn't like change.

"If it makes you feel better, you may call me Draco."

"I prefer Malfoy."

"Suit yourself."

The two stood in silence, watching the players line up for the start of the game. After a few awkward minutes, Hermione couldn't take it any longer. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"While my father is under house arrest, I represent Malfoy Industries at public functions."

"Oh." Really, how else was she to respond to that? The usual 'I'm sorry' didn't apply. Lucius Malfoy deserved much worse.

"I also had hopes of catching another glimpse of the Golden Snitch."

"It will be a bit hard to see, given that—" Hermione stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing as the import of his words hit home. Stupid Quidditch panties! She'd make sure to burn them the instant she got home.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what game you're playing here, but I'm not interested. My undergarments aren't up for discussion. Not now, not ev-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw something fly toward the window. Out of reflex, she threw up her arms, covering her head. She let out a small shriek of terror as a stray bludger smashed into the viewing wall of the corporate box.

When it didn't shatter the glass, Hermione glanced up, hoping no one noticed her

Everyone seemed to be staring at her and Malfoy, who was dripping wet, covered with her butterbeer.

"And you said I was a coward?" Malfoy remarked, wiping the liquid from his face.

He had heard that? Hermione tried not to blush. After all, it was true.

He took out his wand, and she automatically reached for hers. It was already pointed on Malfoy when she realized he was using his to dry himself off.

"Put that away, or you'll look even more ridiculous than you already do. Did you really expect the bludger to break through the glass? Here's a newsflash. It's magically impenetrable." Malfoy rapped the glass with his wand a few times to prove his point.

Not that the slight tap of a wand compared to the force of a murderous bludger intent on her destruction. But Hermione knew she was in no position to quibble. She quickly pocketed her wand in her robes, feeling every inch the idiot. "I'm sorry. I've never been in one of these boxes before."

"Obviously."

Dry once more, Malfoy put back his wand. "I need a drink. Do you want another?"

She nodded her head, not quite certain what he had asked her.

When he returned, he handed her a firewhisky.

"I had a butterbeer."

"And?"

Since she had spilled her drink all over him, she figured she owed it to him to keep quiet. Taking a sip of the fluid, Hermione started coughing, forcing herself to choke it down. It tasted awful and burned along the length of her esophagus.

When Malfoy laughed at her, Hermione started chugging the vile liquid, glaring at him over the rim of her glass.

"You're welcome," he said.

The two lapsed into silence, but Hermione felt it was his turn to initiate conversation, so she said nothing.

"Who do you want to win?" he asked.

"I don't really care," she said. "You?"

"I placed a bet on Puddlemere."

"Are you a fan?"

"Of Falmouth, yes."

Hermione's brow knit in confusion. "Then how can you bet against them?"

"Simple. Puddlemere has a stronger team this year."

"But they aren't your team."

"Doesn't matter."

Silence. Again.

Unfortunately, it was her turn. "Have you seen Teddy lately?"

"Mother and I visited just last week."

"And how is he?"

"Don't know. He didn't really say."

Without thinking, Hermione let out a small laugh at his joke, then quickly tried to hide it behind her glass of firewhisky. Tipping it back, she realized it was empty.

"Would you like another?"

"Sure?"

Hermione forced herself to keep watching the game instead of Malfoy's retreating back. She wasn't sure she knew how to handle him being semi-decently behaved, but she was not going to upset the delicate balance. Not when she was going to ask him if he wanted to donate to the Ministry.

He came back, handing her another glass. "Thank you," she said. She waited another second before getting down to business. "I know this is a bit out of the blue, but have you ever considered donating money to the Ministry of Magic?"

"No."

"Would you?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"What's in it for me?"

What's in it for him? What kind of question was that? "The satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing."

"Not interested. Sorry."

Hermione bit her tongue. Of course he wouldn't understand an appeal to what was right. He was selfish. Greedy. Mercenary. Stingy. And really really mean.

"I'm surprised at you, Hermione. For someone who prides herself on being the best at everything, your sales pitch is abysmal."

"This is for a good cause, not me trying to get you to buy the Nimbus 200."

"Nimbus 2001."

"Whatever. The point is, doing the right thing shouldn't be treated as if it were an ad campaign."

"Then you aren't going to make any money. Look around, Hermione. You are surrounded by business people. Even if they are interested in doing the right thing, they need to be able to justify it to their boards and investors. You mentioned nothing about possible tax write-offs, recognition the companies would receive, financial partnerships that could be struck between the Ministry and their companies. I don't even know what you plan to do with the money once you have it."

"Well, I work in the department for magical creatures, and one of the things we are currently working on is trying to protect the habitats that are in danger of being destroyed."

"Won't work. Too boring. Are any of the animals cute?"

Too upset to fully appreciate that Malfoy had just said the word cute, Hermione said, "I fail to see what that has to do with anything."

"Just answer the question."

"Are you implying that just because some creatures aren't as good looking as the others, they don't deserve our care and attention?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Well, that was abrupt. And quite rude. Before she could dwell on it any further, he was on his way back, leading a brightly dressed woman on his arm. Hermione thought the lady gaudy and ostentatious. Was it really necessary to have a ring on each of her fingers?

"Hermione, I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Gemma Aurum. She is in charge of the jeweler's guild in England."

The lady held out her hand, and Hermione wondered if she expected her to kiss it. She shook it instead. Rather awkwardly. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Aurum."

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you. Please, call me Gemma."

Malfoy seemed to expect her to say something, but Hermione was clueless as to what exactly it was. With a slight shake of his head and a small, exasperated sigh, he turned to Gemma.

"Hermione was just telling me about her work with the firecrab. Were you aware that they are in danger of becoming extinct?"

"Yes, though it's no wonder. I saw one while on vacation in Fiji a few years back. They're shells are absolutely gorgeous. I hear they are used to make the most beautiful decorative cauldrons."

Hermione felt herself grow angry, and she was just about to give a piece of her mind to the materialistic witch when Malfoy's hand lightly gripped her elbow.

"A travesty, I know," Draco said, lowering his head in a moment of silence. "Perhaps, Gemma, you could be so gracious as to shed light on this issue. A person in your position would instantly command attention."

Hermione watched as the lady ate up Malfoy's garbage like a goat. Or possibly a raccoon. "Oh, how kind of you to say. But I'm not really sure how I could accomplish that."

"You could design brooches and pendants that resemble the firecrab shells, with a portion of proceeds going to the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I know my mother would be interested in purchasing one of them."

The lady pursed her lips, then suddenly broke out in laughter. "Why, Draco, that's a marvelous idea. I'm sure I could sell quite a few of those…You know who you might wish to speak to? James Vola. I hear he has a soft spot for all these little creatures. Anyway, I must be going.'"

"Hermione will contact you after the game so you can solidify your partnership," Malfoy said.

"Splendid. I look forward to speaking with you again, dear. And, Draco, please tell your mother hello."

"Of course."

And with that the lady walked off.

Draco turned to Hermione. "Do you know who James Vola is?"

Still dumbfounded by what had just happened, she barely managed to answer in the negative.

"Remind me again why they let you graduate from Hogwarts? Next time you come to one of these events, you should already know who will be attending and what line of work they are in. That way you can better market your ideas. James Vola is involved in the traveling industry. You could probably sell him on vacations to visit endangered species. And that man over there--"

Hermione turned her head.

"Don't look."

Hermione stared up at Malfoy, sufficiently chastened.

"That's Felix Delectam. He owns a chain of toy stores across Europe. If any of your creatures are of the 'cute and cuddly' variety, he could market them into a line of toys."

For the next thirty minutes, Malfoy proceeded to point out various people of importance and ways she could appeal to them for money. All in all, it was a very enlightening experience. When it was over, Hermione couldn't keep from smiling, brimming over with excitement over all the many possibilities.

Feeling hopeful, Hermione said, "So, can I expect you to donate to the cause of the firecrab?"

Malfoy looked at her as if she had just suggested he shave his head. "Those wretched creatures? I don't think so. Anything that can shoot flames out its arse needs neither my help nor my money. Nothing personal, it's just a matter of principle."

Boy, had she underestimated him. The hackles on Hermione's neck rose. This was so typical of him. "I wasn't aware you had any."

Ignoring her, Malfoy ranted a little more. "Really, Hermione, you might as well ask me if I want to hug a hippogriff. Or liberate my house elves."

And this was exactly why she didn't like Draco Malfoy. He hadn't changed one bit. Hermione was grateful for the reminder.

"Well, it's been…interesting. I should really be going. Harry and Ron are probably wondering where I am."

"Doubtful. They've been sitting on that couch over there for the last hour paying attention to nothing but the game."

"Goodbye, Malfoy."

He nodded his head. "Hermione."

Fists clenched at her sides, she walked over to her friends on the couch. "Where were you? I can't believe you left me alone with him for nearly an hour!"

Not even giving her a glance, attention fixed solely on the game, Harry said, "We thought about rescuing you, but you didn't look like you wanted it."

"Yeah, Malfoy seemed to be able to handle the bludger attack by himself," Ron added.

"Maybe we should invite him over here," Harry said.

Their attempts at baiting her fell flat. With the effects of the firewhisky starting to kick in, Hermione didn't really care about their teasing. "Whatever," she said, settling in between them. "Who's winning?"

"Puddlemere is crushing Falmouth."

Hermione snuck a glance at Malfoy, only to find him watching her. He lifted his glass in salute before turning back to the game.

"So what were you and Malfoy talking about?" Harry asked, still engrossed by the on-pitch action.

"Future wedding plans?" Ron said.

Hermione threw back the rest of her firewhiskey.

"Just business."


A/N: Please review. Thanks for reading.