Disclaimer still applies.
Chapter 4Blaise Zabini rose late in the morning, yawning wide and stepping in his dressing gown onto his balcony. The sun had warmed the tiles and his bare feet appreciated it. The sprawling villa his mother had given him for his sixteenth birthday was the perfect retreat. Its remote location in Tuscany helped keeping unwanted visitors away; as did the fact that the nearest village was comprised of muggles only. Sitting at the white enamelled summer table, his personal elf served him breakfast and coffee.
"Thank you, Scusi. Could you please fetch the paper?" The little elf nodded and vanished with a pop, only to appear moments later with the Daily Prophet held in his hands.
"Will Master need anything else?" Blaise shook his head and opened the paper after taking a sip of the strong coffee.
"No, Scusi. Thank you. I will call for you when I am finished." After the elf vanished with another pop, Blaise was alone again, like he preferred for the moment. With a sigh he saw that the Prophet wasn't done with pounding his name into the dirt. He'd been a chaser for the Magpies for five years. His record was exemplary until an 'undisclosed source' accused him of cheating; imbibing potions to increase his strength and stamina, charming his broom to fly better and repel the opposite teams' and of course the sticking charm to his gloves. All of it fat lies of course, but someone at the Prophet had it in for him and wouldn't let the matter rest. In the end it became untenable for the Magpies to retain him as a player, especially since the public was all too eager to believe the slander, due to his background. A former Slytherin and rumoured Death Eater would of course not be able to simply play well, but had to cheat. The funniest thing was, he'd never been a Death Eater and had even agreed to a photo shoot to prove it. It had been no use. He'd been practically booed off the pitch after his last game. Crumpling the paper with a growl, he took a gulp of his coffee.
He'd made fun of Draco for leaving but now he understood. All the rag papers had come calling to his apartment in wizarding London, until it got so bad that he could barely sleep any more. That was when he'd decided to leave England behind for some time and wait until this died down. That was three months ago. While he liked the villa, he missed being around people. Returning to London, where all his friends, sans Draco of course, lived, was not an option. At least not right now.
The hooting of an owl had him look up. He'd seen some owls fly over, but this one seemed headed right towards him. Should be impossible, since the villa was unplottable. Yet the bird proceeded right on its path and landed ostentatiously on the table. Quickly he snapped back his cup, before the blasted owl could upset it and spill its contents. The large owl stretched out its foot, hooting at him to get a move on. Chuckling despite his irritation, he set down his cup.
"All right, all right. Don't get all snippy on me." He grumbled, removing the package from the owl's foot. The contents were wrapped in oilskin, which indicated to him that the owl had probably flown a great distance and that the package had been wrapped thus to protect it from the elements. Severing the ties with his knife, he unwrapped the parcel. He had to admit that he was intrigued. Inside were a cardboard box and a note.
Hello old friend,
Get the box open. Inside is a cell phone. It's a muggle device. Don't worry, it will work. You flip it open. The screen should come on. I've enclosed the manual. My number is programmed. You simply need to find my name under contacts and then press the green button.
Speak to you soon,
Draco Malfoy.
Surprised Blaise sat back, cradling the note in his hand. Speak of the Devil. He had just been thinking about his old friend. Eagerly he opened the box and inspected the silver device in his hand. He had to admit that it had a certain, sleek appeal to it. Lifting the upper portion, he saw that it indeed flipped open, just as Draco had written. The screen lit up and he inspected it. Rooting with his free hand through the box, he found the manual and flipped through it. Eager to speak to his friend once again, he didn't bother to read anything except how to get to the contacts. Following the instructions to the letter, he quickly got into the correct menu. Since the phone was brand new, only a few numbers had been programmed into it, making it easy for him to find Draco's. Selecting it, he pressed the green button. Suddenly a loud noise blared from the infernal thing, which startled both him and the owl. The bird hissed at it angrily and Blaise could only agree. The tooting that came next however seemed to intrigue the owl and it eyed the phone with a curious gleam in its eye. He held it closer to him, pushing his toast at the owl; hoping to distract it. Luckily the tooting stopped, before anything else could happen.
"Yes?" The sleepy voice brought a smile to Blaise`s face. He'd recognise that voice anywhere.
"It worked!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. Raising the cellophane to his mouth, he yelled into it. "Can you hear me Draco?" Cursing could be heard and the rustling of fabric, followed by a loud thump.
"Yes, you moron, I can hear you. You don't have to scream. Your phone is on speaker, since I know you've never handled one before. You can put it on a table or hold it in front of you and please, please, do not scream at it." Chuckling Blaise relaxed into his chair, put the phone on the table and continued sipping his coffee. The owl had cleaned up his toast and was digging into the pastries.
"What in blazes did you think by sending this thing with a randy owl? I swear it was about to hump it when there was this tooting sound." He could hear Draco's chuckling from the phone and ambient noises. He seemed to be getting himself a drink. Frowning Blaise looked at his watch. "What time is it wherever you are anyway?"
"Just about four in the morning. I had a very nice dream." Grinning Blaise looked over his grounds. This was nice. These muggles truly had a way with technimigy or whatever it was called. This was much more comfortable than kneeling in front of a fireplace. And cleaner too. He also had his hands free, which he appreciated.
"I'll bet. Who was the co-star? Daphne or Astoria? Both perhaps?" Draco snorted.
"Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't touch either of them with a stick and you know that. I only was friendly with them because my family wanted it."
"So is that what they call it nowadays? Friendly?" Grumbling was all that was heard for a time and Blaise did his best to suppress his mirth.
"Shut your mouth and don't you dare laugh. I was young, stupid and they were horny and more than willing. What can I say? I'm flesh and blood." Clearing his throat, Blaise nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him.
"Sure. Sorry. I couldn't help myself. What has instigated this gift from you? I haven't heard from you in a long time."
"Not my fault. Who had to move to his unplottable villa after falling from grace in the quidditch world? It took me forever to find an owl that would be able to find you anyway. Your Mum lent it, so that's why it's able to find you. She expects a letter back by the way, which is why it probably isn't moving."
"And eating all of my breakfast too. Bloody bird, should have recognised it. Mum always goes for the bitchy ones." The bird in question was preening itself, after having eaten almost everything on the table. Including the fruit.
"Serves you right for waking me this early. Now get your lazy bum in gear and get packing. I have a job for you." Blaise sat up at this. It seemed as if fate was intervening. In his favour for once.
"What job?" He tried to keep his interest from bleeding into his voice, but he knew Draco would pick up on it anyway.
"A teaching position. You'll be the physical coach for my duelling team. If there is anyone I know, who can get duellists in shape, it's you." It sounded good. And Draco was right. Between the two of them, he had been the one with the better discipline. Despite Blaise's strict schedule, he'd never been able to beat Draco, though the other man was bordering on lazy at times. He'd never quite found out why and simply assumed that Draco trained in secret to irritate Blaise.
"Sounds okay. Where would that be exactly?"
"Salem University in Salem, Massachusetts. You remember I moved to the United States a few years back? Well, I started a company, which is quite successful and then I was offered the position as duelling coach at the university. I decided it was time for something new and accepted. The duelling program is in shambles and I can't pull it off alone. I want to start a program comparable to that of the Aurors and for that to work, the duellists have to be in supreme shape."
"Apart from the fact that they'll need all their strength to keep up with you."
"Flattery will get you everywhere. Now pack up your stuff and get your arse over here with the next international portkey. Learn how the phone works and give me a call when you arrive. I'll pick you up." Grinning Blaise clapped his hands.
"Sounds like a plan then. Do you have someone for the potions bit, or are you going to do that yourself? With your qualifications you could do it easily."
"No, for that I have someone else in mind. She might be a bit difficult to convince, but from what I've heard, she could use a change of scenery as much as you." At the word 'she', Blaise became intensely interested once more.
"She? Care to elaborate?" Draco gave a deep sigh.
"Might as well. You'll find out sooner or later. I want Granger for the job. There's no question about her being the best and from what I could gather from archive editions of the Daily Prophet she's been having a rough time lately. Hopefully her desire for a respite will be bigger than her contempt for me." Blaise chuckled at that.
"Fat chance of that happening, old boy. But you're right. I was there for most of her nasty break-up with Weasley and I can tell you, the girl needs a change of scenery much more than I. The Prophet is alternating between bashing me and her. I can't understand why though. Everyone knows Weasley's banging everything female that isn't on a tree by the count of five. Why they assume that she was the one who cheated on him, I don't know. I guess it's jealousy. I mean, she is awfully smart and lets you know it." Both men chuckled at this.
"I know, but that's no reason to slander her name simply because she's usually right."
"Look who's talking."
"Knock it off, Blaise. I was a prat and so were you, I believe. Are you still going for silent and mysterious?" Again they had to laugh. "Who was she supposed to have been with? I never was able to find a name."
"According to the 'well-informed' sources of the Prophet, it was, get ready for this, Theodore Nott." For a moment both were completely silent, before each broke down in peals of laughter.
"You're joking! Theo the Nancy Nott? Everyone knew by fifth year that he was as gay as they come! Dear Merlin! What idiots they are. He's here as well, did you know? He's an instructor at Peabody Conservatory for Magical Music. Owns a bar there too. He and his cross-dressing boyfriend are quite the show, I can tell you." Moving to the States was looking more and more like a fantastic idea to Blaise.
"Sounds great. When I get there, we'll have to go of course. Wouldn't want to miss that for the world. Good luck with Granger. How are you getting in touch with her anyway?"
"Same way I did with you. She owns a cell phone. Got the number from her parents, when I had my old secretary call them about the job offer."
"Sneaky." Blaise cooed. He had no objections. He would have done it the same way. It was simply the Slytherin way.
"Thank you. It's good to know that I've still got it. Anyway, I am going to call her and ask her to meet me in Aughrim in Ireland. It's neutral middle ground and the Prophet rarely covers events in Ireland. If she's half as capable as she was in Hogwarts, she'll lose them within a heartbeat."
"Sounds good. Good luck to you. Now how do I shut this thing off, so I can get packing and get Scusi to prepare the travelling details?"
"Just flip it shut. It'll hang up automatically. Read the manual before you use it again. See you soon."
"Bye Draco!" He yelled, just for the heck of it and quickly snapped the phone shut. Snickering he got up and retied the sash on his dressing gown. "Scusi! I'm leaving."
Hermione Granger was furious. With the world, the people in it and herself. The months after her break-up with Ron had been hell. All believed the drivel he'd been spouting. As if she would ever cheat! What hurt her more than anything had been that most of her so-called friends believed the lies. Only few stood by her. Chief among them Harry. They were like brother and sister. Ginny, as Harry's wife, had a harder time. On one hand there was her loyalty to familial bonds and on the other was her clear knowledge of Hermione's morals and her brother's temperament. Luna didn't really care what the public thought and made her own decisions about everything. She considered Hermione her friend no matter what. When Ron had approached her after the break-up, she'd smiled at him in her whimsical way to then slug him without any warning. If things got particularly bad, Hermione thought back to that moment. It provided her still with no end of entertainment.
Leaving her offices at the Ministry, she steeled herself to run the daily gauntlet of nosy co-workers and the odd reporter, hoping to catch her with a man. It rankled that they wouldn't leave her alone, since she had to put her life on hold. While Ron could fuck around as much as he wanted, she was painted as a scarlet woman if she dared to take lunch with a man or speak to one for any length of time. She was sick of it to be honest and despite her loving her job, the constant stress sucked any enjoyment she could possibly get out of it. Sighing deeply, holding her head down, she pulled the lapels of her coat higher. It was a small attempt, but it was better than nothing. The entire Ministry was spelled against any forms of disguise, ranging from polyjuice to appearance altering charms. Steeling herself, she entered the atrium. She'd petitioned for a temporary floo link between her office and her apartment. It had been denied due to security reasons. What good was it being a war hero, if she didn't get anything out of it? She'd never asked for any preferential treatment before and now that she once did, it was denied. Ron hadn't had such compulsions and had thus risen quickly within the ranks of the Aurors. Hermione had only disgust for this. Ron's capabilities were not in accordance with his position. It would lead to problems in the future she knew. It had already started. He'd sent Aurors for a search and arrest, without the proper warrants in place. Due to that a criminal almost walked, had it not been for more experienced Aurors picking up the slack. Finally some of them started to see the light. Ron had made himself popular by buying many rounds for them at their usual pub and handing out Quidditch tickets. This popularity was wearing off. Mainly because he had used up most of the reward he'd received for being integral in the downfall of Voldemort.
Hermione smiled a little as she blended with the crowd. She'd chosen precisely this time of the evening to leave, since four departments got off their shift now. It meant that over a hundred people were pressing towards the floo grates and she was simply one among many. For a change she got home without being bothered. Stepping out of her high heels, she groaned in pleasure as her feet sunk into the thick, soft carpet. She sometimes hated those infernal things, but they gave her a few extra inches and they made her butt and breasts look fabulous. She'd needed some ego stroking after her break-up. It had ended in a shopping spree of epic proportions, which Ginny had been more than happy to help with. Next stop had been a spa holiday at an exclusive retreat in Switzerland, where she had spent two blissful weeks of relaxation. One of the beauty witches there had shown her a simple, nifty spell to tame her hair and now they finally behaved and fell in dark, auburn waves down her back.
Walking into her kitchen, she poured herself a glass of red wine and picked up her phone. She was wavering between the Italian restaurant down the block and the Thai place a few streets over. Before she could decide however, the phone in her hand rang. Raising an eyebrow she looked at the screen, but it only showed an unknown number. The prefix told her it was a call from the United States, which confused her even more. She didn't know anyone living there, let alone someone who knew how to operate a phone.
"Hello? Hermione Granger speaking." She answered politely. Maybe someone was trying to call a friend or relative and had simply gotten some of the numbers mixed up.
"Good evening, Miss Granger. This is Draco Malfoy." Stunned she almost lost hold of her wineglass. Malfoy?! What the hell was he doing calling her? And how did he get her number?
"Malfoy? What…why are you calling me? How did you get this number? Since when do you own a phone? What is the meaning of this?" His deep voice chuckled directly in her ear and she shivered a little. God! It had been much too long for her, if Malfoy's voice could do this to her.
"If you would let me get a word in, I can explain. However I would ask you to hear me out and not hang up immediately." Huffing she leaned to her kitchen counter and took a sip of the wine.
"Fine. I promise. Now tell me what this is about."
"Eager much, are we?"
"Only to get rid of you, so spill. Why are you calling me?"
"Very well. I have recently had the privilege to be asked to head the duelling program at Salem University. They do not have a proper program here, like the one we have for Aurors. I want to change that. For that I need the best potioneer available and that is you, Granger. I know that you might be sceptical about this, but I assure you that this is a genuine offer. I will send you the Dean's contact information by owl, so that you can confirm it with him. I already informed him that you might contact him. If you are willing to consider the offer, I would ask you to meet me in person in Aughrim, Ireland. It's neutral territory and the Prophet reporters don't go there that often. The reporters of the Irish Sentinel are quite territorial and they don't cover your break-up with the Weasel any more."
"Been checking up on me, were you?" He snorted.
"Of course. I had to make sure that you at least would consider the position." Mulling it over, she moved to her living room and sat down on her couch.
"I admit that it does sound enticing and I am sure that you know due to your research that I could use a change of scenery. What is the catch?"
"No catch. It's a genuine job offer. No strings or ulterior motives. I've changed, Granger. For Merlin's sake, I'm talking to you over a muggle phone! If you agree to meet with me, we can go to a muggle restaurant or bar. I'll have you know that I even own a car and know how to drive it too." This elicited a small laugh from her at his faux exasperated tone.
"All right, all right. I guess I buy that you indeed have changed. Time doesn't go by any of us, without changing us. Maybe even you took the time to grow up."
"You wound me, Granger. I assure you that I look as good as ever, if I do say so myself. Now, will you meet me?" Sighing she picked at her skirt. Moving to the US seemed like a good idea. She would finally get some peace and be able to teach. Something she'd wanted to do for a while now. Yes, she could do that for a couple of years and return, when all the excitement died down. But then she'd have to work for Malfoy. Malfoy! Was she able to do that? What would the few remaining friends she still had say? Was it worth it to risk her last friendships? Especially her relationship with Harry.
"Send me the Dean's info. I have to talk to him and some others. I'll write down your number and give you a call once I've made my decision."
"Very well. That sounds fair. I would need an answer by the end of the week. You can call anytime. I always have my cell phone on me. Take your time and call me. Have a nice evening, Granger."
"You too, Malfoy." She answered automatically out of courtesy and hung up. First now she realised she hadn't asked him how he knew her number, but that was a question she could ask at a later date. Right now she had to contemplate the offer he'd made.
The next day, Hermione had made arrangements to meet with Harry for lunch. In the evening she would be talking to her parents. That should cover the people closest to her. Despite being distracted by her warring thoughts on Malfoy's offer, her lab partner would never have known that she wasn't concentrating one-hundred per cent on her work. Looking at the clock, she noticed that time had practically flown by. Securing her work station, she collected her handbag and hung up her lab coat. By mutual consent she and Harry were going to meet in a muggle café, quite a ways from wizarding London. Despite the hype around Harry having died down, it was still hard for him to go about unbothered in public. Random people would still walk up to him to congratulate him, ask for a photo or signature, or ask him to tell war stories. Stories he tried to forget. Their soirées into muggle London assured them both peace and privacy. Few wizards would follow them, since they still felt uncomfortable about being among non-wizarding folk. Especially since the statute of secrecy did not allow for them to use magic even once.
When she arrived separate from Harry, she noticed that she was the first of the two of them and chose to sit in a spot at the back. Just to be safe. The waitress greeted her with a smile and Hermione decided to order a drink and opened her notebook. It would help her pass the time, until Harry arrived. She had arrived early and took the time to arrange her thoughts. Her notebook for once didn't contain formulas and instructions for new potions, but rather a list of pros and cons for the job offered to her by Malfoy. The con list was about equal with the pro list, but the con list had one important point on it. Malfoy would be her boss. Could she deal with that? He had professed to have changed, but had he really? His use of a telephone to contact her had indicated as much. She was simply unsure to what extent this change had gone. Was he still a superior prick with an insufferable attitude problem. Sighing she made a line under his name and put an exclamation mark behind his name.
"Hard at work?" Harry's voice pulled her from her musings and she smiled up at her childhood friend. He'd grown into his gangly teenage body. His broad shoulders indicated the power in his upper body. His hair was as unruly as ever, a trait he had given on to his male progeny, much to Ginny's dismay. His green eyes were smiling at her and she quickly forgave him his slight insult of her work ethics. Rising with a smile of her own, she hugged him.
"Harry. Yes, if you must know. But this time not for the Ministry, as shocking as it might seem." Chuckling he sat down. She took a seat opposite him and both ordered their lunch. The café was all about fresh and healthy food, which Harry didn't like all that much, but 'endured' for her. She didn't believe it all that much. He dug in well enough when their food arrived.
"So, what is this extremely important business you absolutely had to talk about in complete privacy?" Swallowing, she took a sip from her tea.
"I received a job offer from an unusual source yesterday evening." He inclined his head.
"Mysterious, but do go on." Taking a deep breath, she decided to do it quick. Like removing a band aid.
"Malfoy called me." At this he stopped mid-chew and she was happy that he hadn't been in the process of swallowing anything.
"What do you mean, Malfoy called you? Called you how?"
"On my telephone if you can believe it." Her smile was forced and also a little scared. Despite Harry having testified in Malfoy's favour at his trial, the other man was still much of a red flag to her best friend. Instead of blowing his gasket however, he simply sat there, looking at her.
"Harry? Please say something. You're starting to scare me." She asked nervously. Swallowing his bite of food, he took a sip from his coffee and sat back.
"Can I assume he was the one to offer you the job?" He seemed calm and that was when he was at his most dangerous. She could see the barely leashed anger in his eyes. Hermione knew to tread carefully at this point, but it angered her as well. It was absolutely ridiculous that Harry still harboured that much enmity towards his childhood enemy. Also, this job would give her the chance to finally live a life of peace. Who was Harry to judge her on this? Sure, he had risked everything to bring Voldemort down, but so had she. She'd almost lost her life on more than one occasion, risked her life countless times and kept his secrets at the risk of losing her own sanity. He had his happiness now in form of Ginny and his children, but hers still eluded her. Didn't she deserve the same?
"Yes, he was. Do you have a problem with that?" She asked, aggressiveness resonating through her voice. He crossed his arms petulantly, his jaw set. For a time they both simply stared at each other. Hermione was prepared to continue this all day. This once, she was not going to back down. For a long, long time she had always put his goals first. Well, it was Hermione-time now.
"What the fuck, Hermione?" He finally exclaimed. Grinding her teeth, her eyes flashed and he finally caught on to how angry she truly was. With a quick wave of her wand, she had seen to it they wouldn't be disturbed or could be listened in on. He also noticed that he could no longer move. With widening eyes he knew that he was in it deep.
"Now listen up, Harry James Potter! For the last years I have been the constant target of ridicule and innuendo. People I considered to be my friends shunned me; accused me of being a slut in public. No one spoke up in my favour. You did. Once. In the past, I always took your side, always had your back. Never once did I ask anything of you in return. I can understand that you only want peace and quiet, but at what cost to me? I've given up years of my life for you and now that an old, childhood enemy offers me a way out, you do not even give me the courtesy of a few minutes to explain!" By now her chest was heaving and her eyes were swimming. Breathing deep, she held the tears at bay. She wouldn't guilt him into submission. He would listen to her arguments and concede her point. As simple as that.
"Hermione I…I am sorry. I never believed those stories. You know that. Everyone kept telling me how important I was and I guess I believed when I told them once that everything they wrote was false, everyone else would simply fall in line. I guess I was as taken in with my own importance as Ron was. I…didn't know how hard it had been on you and I should have. I was a rotten friend and you are right that I should have given you a chance to explain. Please. Give me a chance to be the friend you deserve." His eyes had softened and as always, this had also a calming effect on her. Releasing him from her spell, she sighed deep and cupped her tea mug in her hands.
"It's…It's a chance, Harry. A chance to finally live in peace without having people following me everywhere. Without them passing judgement on me, without even knowing me. You had it easier. Your life took the turns you wanted and I am glad that it did. I want a chance at that as well. Malfoy's job would take me to the United States. A few years away from here would take me away from it all. It will give the Prophet and others time to forget about me. When I return to Britain, I could live a life of peace. But for that to happen, I need to leave. I have thought about it before, but I never had an offer that enticed me. Malfoy offered me a teaching position. He's been named the duelling instructor at a prestigious university and wants to establish program similar to that of the Aurors there. The Americans don't seem to have one.
"It's a terrific offer. Even if I decide not to take it, a vacation there might give me the opportunity to look for work there elsewhere. I need some time away." He listened to her without interrupting.
"I can see your point and it is true that the offer sounds good. And not to anger you again, but Malfoy?" She nodded and raised her hand, before he could even start to list Malfoy's many grievances against the both of them.
"I know, I know. Can I trust the offer, or that he even told the truth. I've been checking up on him. After his release from Azkaban he tried to get a job. No one would hire an ex-convict and an ex-Death Eater. He took most of his inheritance and left for the United States. Something his father apparently wasn't all too happy about. I heard from a reliable source though that the elder Malfoy hasn't much of a say anymore in family matters. Malfoy Industries is run by Narcissa now and Draco's established it in the United States. What I heard from my contacts there about it, I could barely believe. Did you know that his company hires everyone? And I mean everyone! Squibs, half-bloods, muggleborns, half-breeds, you name it. He's made a squib his successor as CEO when he left to take the teaching position. That alone indicates to me that he has changed tremendously." She studied his face as she explained. She didn't miss the astonishment in his face. It was hard not to. His jaw had nearly hit the table.
"Well. That…seems like quite the change. What do you think happened to precipitate this?" Pushing a piece of lettuce around on her plate, she shrugged.
"Two years in Azkaban? The war itself? You know as well as I do that he wasn't a willing participant in the end. At first maybe, but as soon as he knew what it entailed being a Death Eater, he would have run or defected if he could. He was well and caught though, when he realised it with no way out. His silence in the drawing room the only thing he was capable of. He was a teenage boy in over his head. I'm not saying that this means all is forgiven, but I understand much better where he came from." A slanted smile was now on his face, which had her frowning. "What?" Chuckling he shook his head and took another sip from his coffee.
"Sounds to me as if you've already made up your mind." Surprised she sat back a little slack-jawed now herself.
"I…well…it's…" Her problem to actually articulate herself had Harry laughing.
"This is a first. Hermione Granger speechless. By me as well." She slapped his arm in acceptance and slight reprimand of his mirth.
"Stop it. All right, I accept that my research has made me more optimistic about this opportunity but it doesn't change the fact that this is Malfoy we're talking about. Sure, it seems that he has changed, but is it his views about people that he has changed or was it simple practicality that spurred his idea to hire wizards and witches from all walks of life? That is something I still need an answer to." Sighing deeply, she looked into her teacup. "I will talk to my parents about this tonight; hear what they have to say about it. I've never told them what I face daily, but I think they know. God knows how. If they have a positive attitude about it, I guess I will accept Malfoy's offer of a meeting." At this, he frowned in suspicion.
"A meeting? Where?"
"In Aughrim, Ireland. He's even willing to go somewhere muggle. It will prevent this whole thing from being noticed by the Prophet. Have you any idea what they would make of it, if they got any information on it?" Chuckling, but with a grimace, he nodded.
"Oh, I have an inkling. Now I understand why you wanted to meet here. I think it's a good idea though. You get to see what he's truly like now. I say go meet with him and if you feel that it's worth it, then go. You of all people deserve some happiness. We will still be here when you come back. And it's not as if we couldn't visit." Smiling brightly she took his hand warmly in hers. She knew that whatever she decided upon, he would support her. That's what friends were for.
For the first time in years, Draco Malfoy felt nervous about a meeting. Blaise noticed the barely perceptible signs, while Dean McPherson wasn't as familiar with Malfoy's mannerisms to see it himself. Zabini had arrived within the same day of Malfoy's call in America and introduced himself to the Dean. McPherson didn't exactly know what to make of the tall, dark Italian, but had trusted in Malfoy's talent and knowledge concerning the hiring of Zabini. All three of them were now, a week later, waiting in the muggle district of Aughrim and waiting for the arrival of Hermione Granger. At first, Malfoy had wanted to meet alone with her. In their subsequent telephone conversation she had practically demanded that the Dean and any other party involved in the program is present. It made perfect, logical sense. Get all the affected parties together and see if a consensus can be reached.
Nervously McPherson tugged at his suit jacket for the umpteenth time. Both Slytherins of course noticed, but Draco was too polite to mention it. Blaise however wasn't.
"What is the matter, Dean McPherson?" He asked kindly.
"I've rarely been in complete muggle environs. To top it off my daughter insisted I wear this suit. My wife agreed and was well on her way to throw out my robes and cloaks, because she said it made me look more dignified and modern." He snorted. "And do you think I got any help from my son? Oh no! He and my ungrateful daughter supported her all the way. I had to put sticking charms on my hangers to keep my wardrobe intact." The indignant rant had the younger men chuckling and trying to keep their grins as small as possible.
"Women. You cannot live with them and you can't live without them." Blaise commented wisely, looking up at the grey skies. Frowning both McPherson and Malfoy threw him a glance. Looking at each other, they shook their heads and continued to look out at the street, despite McPherson not really knowing what he was looking for. He'd never seen this Miss Granger before, but from what Malfoy had told him and what his own research had shown him, she was a highly capable potioneer and was currently attached to the British Wizarding Ministry. Six patents were currently running in her name, with about four more in the process of being tested. Not all were for potions. She had been the one to figure out how to use muggle appliances in wizarding environs. This patent alone had made her an extremely wealthy woman. McPherson had been on board with hiring her as soon as he saw this. With such an ingenious mind at the University, their money problems should be over soon. While the university wasn't struggling in that department, it was always good to have a little more than one needed for extra expenses and upgrades. Some of the labs could do with new equipment and the library was in constant need of new material. Malfoy had however insisted on the meeting. He wanted to make sure that all parties were in agreement and that all would get along. With a sigh Blaise took a look at his watch.
"Where the hell is she? I thought I'd never see the day Granger would be late." A feminine chuckle had them turn around.
"I was on time, Zabini. You however are at the wrong spot." Zabini and Malfoy were completely gob-smacked This was not how they remembered the bookish Hermione Granger. McPherson was the only one with a polite smile on his face. He stretched out his hand for a greeting.
"Miss Granger. Dean Anthony McPherson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I have only heard the very best of you." With a pleasant smile, Hermione took the offered hand and gave it a shake.
"How gallant of you Dean McPherson. Thank you and yes, I am indeed Miss Hermione Granger. I doubt though that those two had much good to say about me. We were bitter rivals in school." She gave them all an impish smile. It hit Blaise and Draco like a brick in the face. It implied that she didn't hold any grudge. Could it be that she was prepared to forgive them? Swallowing they barely managed to get their jaws to shut. McPherson took them in with a frown, while Hermione practically preened due to their astonished gazes. Oh yeah. This was exactly what her ego needed. The two best looking boys from her year speechless at her appearance. With a shake of his head, Blaise regained his faculties and took her hand to place a soft kiss on the back.
"You look stunning, Granger." He complimented, throwing her a wink. Smirking in the very best Slytherin tradition she nodded and stood a little straighter.
"Thank you, Zabini. You don't look too bad yourself." At her unexpected, but positive reply, he stood straight, beaming at her. All three turned expectantly to Draco, who was still in the process of assembling his wits. Could it truly be that this vision of loveliness was Granger? He took her in from top to bottom. Her toned legs were made longer by the black high-heeled pumps. The pinstripe skirt and jacket completed the professional outfit. Her classy, ivory silk blouse and the string of pearls around her neck were demure, but classic and somehow managed to illicit all sorts of naughty scenarios in his head. Her body had filled out in all the right places. After the war she had been a little on the scrawny side, due to the months of hardship she'd had to endure. None of that was visible now. Her skin had a healthy glow, her face clear and with a light amount of make-up around her enchanting, deep brown eyes. Her former unruly bush of hair was now falling in a cascade of shining auburn curls down her back. A lock was hanging slightly in her face and it itched in Draco's fingers to tuck it behind her ear. Shaking himself slightly, he took her hand to greet her properly as well. Granger would hardly appreciate him touching her so intimately. Unlike Blaise he simply indicated a kiss to her hand, since direct skin to skin contact was inappropriate. Blaise knew that very well, but he'd always been an incorrigible flirt. This close to her skin he couldn't however help himself and breathed deep. Her perfume was an unobtrusive, ephemeral floral scent with just a touch of vanilla. It made him wonder what her skin tasted like, which was an absolutely inappropriate thought to have. Especially since they hadn't seen each other in such a long time and had parted on such unfortunate terms. He had to suppress a chuckle at his own thoughts. Unfortunate terms? If one would call him being sent to Azkaban and her finally being able to enjoy her life for a while, after being constantly harassed by him unfortunate terms, well then yes.
Hermione smiled at Blaise's and Malfoy's antiquated greeting. It was so typical of the progeny of old, pureblood families. Since the end of the war those families had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the twenty-first century. Not that the younger generation complained all that much. Sure, they were proud of being able to trace their family back many generations, but they were easier to convince that some traditions were not worth keeping. Hermione was glad that the elegant manners bred into the higher families' children weren't one of them.
"I hope you are hungry, gentlemen. I took the liberty of booking a table for us at the Grainstore at the Meath Arms. I am told it is the best restaurant in town." McPherson turned to Malfoy with a horrified expression.
"Mr Malfoy! That is no way to treat a lady. The arrangements should have been made by us." He exclaimed. Smiling Hermione took his offered arm and patted it consolingly.
"Please Dean McPherson do not be upset at Mr Malfoy. I insisted on making the arrangements. Both Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini are not that familiar with muggles and how to deal with them. I freely offered my services and if it will assuage your sensibilities, you may invite me to dinner." Smiling at her, he nodded.
"Indeed, I will. If only to assure you that I do have better manners than those two." She laid her head back with a laugh, while leading the three men through the streets of Aughrim to their destination.
"My honour will be assured with a gentleman as yourself by my side. God knows what people were to think if they knew I had spent time alone with those scoundrels." Blaise smirked and shook his head, while softly nudging a grumbling Draco in the side.
"We can hear you Granger." He commented. Looking over her shoulder at them, she shrugged.
"So? Was any of it a lie?" Fluttering her lashes, she gave them an innocent smile, to turn back to her conversation with McPherson. Draco said nothing, but simply stared at her. Blaise shook his head with a wry smile and turned to his friend to begin his own discussion, but stopped at Draco's facial expression.
"She certainly is fit, isn't she?" He whispered to Draco, while leaning over, so that the other two wouldn't hear. Jerking, Draco stared at Blaise.
"What?!" Suppressing a laugh, Blaise motioned to the woman in front of them.
"You know exactly what I mean. Come on! Even a celibate as you has to notice that Granger sure has grown in all the right places. That body is every male's wet dream. If the Dean does hire her, the male students will have a hell of a time concentrating around her. Half of them will be in love with her after their first lesson." Smiling impishly he watched his good friend. The slight tightening of the eyes was as tell-tale to Blaise as if Draco had shouted out loud. By Slytherin's pink undies! Draco Malfoy fancied Granger. Not that Blaise could blame him. As he'd said, she was fit. Sexy in that stern librarian kind of way. While he liked that from time to time, it wasn't exactly his type. He was more of a free spirit like his mother. Taking his pleasure where he could get it and moving on. Some of the women he'd dated had understood that their relationship was only a temporary thing, until both found something more interesting. He was still in contact with them and they got together from time to time to relive some of the memories.
But Draco was another breed altogether. In more ways than one. Blaise knew that Draco preferred a good conversation to a quick shag any day. Unless there was a certain intellectual compatibility, Draco would only use a woman's interest to get physical release and nothing more. No matter how much the women tried to cling to him. Pansy had found that out rather late. It had put a considerable damper on their friendship but Blaise knew that Draco had tried to explain it to her many times over the years. She'd only seen herself as Draco's future wife though and refused to listen. It wasn't really a fault of hers though. Both hers and Draco's parents had told her time and again that the both of them would be married, as soon as they left school. That of course had never happened, thank Merlin. What a disaster that would have been. Pansy's parents were among those who had been placed under house arrest, while she was free for the first time in her life to make her own decisions. Like most of the pureblood teens of that generation, Pansy had gone on an extended binge. Experimenting with everything her parents had formerly forbidden her. It mainly involved muggles or their inventions. Those had been glorious years in Blaise's memory, though a little fuzzy around the edges. They were drunk off their asses or high most of the time. He'd been lucky to be accepted as a quidditch player, when he got his act back together, while most of the other Slytherins were still without a job. Some of them could afford it. Others couldn't. Their families not nearly wealthy enough to allow a generation or two to simply do nothing. It had led to many of them leaving England to the Ministry's belated chagrin, since they took their wealth with them. He knew that many of the others were either living in France or Germany. The Ministries there kept an eye on them, but didn't interfere with their lives half as much as the British Ministry was wont to do.
Now he was making the jump himself. He'd already ordered the transfer of most his fluent assets to the United States, asking the Goblins to choose a bank they trusted there. He wasn't interested enough in banking to know which was good or bad. He simply wanted his money to be safe and available. If needed, he could always ask Draco for advice, he knew. The other man had an almost uncanny ability to read the market. This ability had been in the family for generations, which explained the obscene amount of money the Malfoys were worth. Even the enormous reparations they had to pay, the Ministry had barely scratched the tip of the iceberg that was the combined Malfoy/Black fortune. Malfoys only accepted the best, since they could very well afford it.
In short order they reached their destination. The restaurant was housed within an old pub, which proudly announced that it had been in the family since 1728. There were of course older establishments in Britain, but that this one had been owned by the same family for so long was no mean feat. Entering the courtyard, they saw the entrance. Inside they were warmly welcomed by a rosy cheeked young woman, who led them to their table straight away. The room had whitewashed walls with strong wooden beams running through it and over their heads in the ceiling. While being very traditional, there were modern accents here and there, achieving quite a harmonious equilibrium of homey familiarity. After they had ordered and their waiter left them, they dared to return to their discussion.
"Mr Malfoy has already informed me that he wishes to start a program similar to that of the Aurors at your university, Dean McPherson. He has also explained my part in this, but I would like to hear what you have to say on this matter." Nodding, McPherson took a sip from his water and leaned forward. He felt a little uncomfortable talking about this in muggle surroundings, but trusted the others to give him a sign if he did something wrong.
"After Mr Malfoy explained his aim with the program to me, I contacted the Guard Chief of Salem. They are our equivalent to your Aurors. He was intrigued by the proposition of pre-trained Guards for elite objectives. For the moment Guards-in-training are educated on the job. They receive an orientation and most go through a fitness test as well as a test of their magical ability. As far as I understood Mr Malfoy, this program goes much further. Not only will it prepare the students physically, but mentally as well. Not only concerning spells, but also tactics and potions. For the moment the Guard utilises potions provided to them by the city. They considered hiring their own potioneer but the expenses would have been too high. It simply wasn't in the budget. Now if one of the Guard were to be a potioneer in his own right, that would change the entire equation.
"All in all, the Guard Chief was impressed with the program and would like to have some of his younger Guards-in-training attend some of the classes. Mr Malfoy has already warned me that they would have to pass another barrage of tests by him and Mr Zabini, though I do not see a problem there. I met one of them and he seems to be a capable young man. I always thought duelling teams rather frivolous to have and superfluous, but with this program they actually serve a purpose and we could possibly start a trend, making cities all over the US safer." The gleam in his eye told her that he was very enthusiastic. She had to give it to Malfoy that he'd sold the program well.
"You do know that a program of this magnitude would cost a lot of money. The supplies for my lab alone will run up a pretty tab." She warned. With a smile McPherson turned to Malfoy, who had sat rigidly in his chair all the time.
"I have agreed to fund the program by myself, until the Board and the Guard Chief see its merits. I have lived in the United States for some time now and while they do have special guards to take care of the more dangerous criminals, they are few, have no standard training procedure and are getting on in years. The average age of a Special Response Guard is forty or older. This worked for some time, but the wizarding population in the US is steadily growing and they soon won't be able to cover the entire country." Nodding in thought, Hermione absently took a sip from her water.
"Under these circumstances you are right and something must be done. With a little manoeuvring it might even be possible to get the American Ministry to chip in. They must see the need they have for well-trained law enforcement officers." Sitting back, they stopped their deliberations to wait for the meals to be served. After the waiter left again, Hermione sat forward again.
"Okay. I give it to you that the program has merit and is needed. Now to the hard part. Negotiations for my wage and the stipulations attached to my position." A new light ignited in Draco's eyes. Negotiations were his forte. His sharp wit and logical mind had assured him many profitable business deals. Leaning forward himself, he and Hermione locked stares.
"Very well then Granger. I hope you are prepared." Snorting she gave him a mocking smile.
"I hope you are." She simply said and they started.
Blaise sat opposite McPherson, while Draco and Granger haggled like a pair of fish mongers. He was enjoyed to discover that his old friend seemed to have found a match in the razor sharp Hermione Granger. McPherson looked between them with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. He had been present for some hard negotiations, had led some himself, but it was nothing compared to the highly evolved and capable discussions these two were having. He felt like a complete beginner next to them and didn't dare interrupt, though some of the points were his to make. He needn't worry though, since Malfoy brought them up expertly. Miss Granger however poked holes into his offers wherever she could and asked for specifics, where most would simply assume it was included. He developed a whole new respect for this highly intelligent woman.
"It's fun to watch, isn't it?" Blaise asked and raised his glass at the Dean. Shaking his head a little, McPherson managed a feeble smile.
"It's…impressive." He muttered. "I wouldn't have thought of half of this." He admitted. Blaise grinned, waving it off.
"No one would have. Except those two. Anal as they are." He received a slap to the head from both, without either of them looking over or losing their place in the argument they were currently having, concerning monthly allowances for experiments. McPherson chuckled, while Blaise threw the two a dark glance. Shrugging he continued to eat.
"Don't worry Dean McPherson. Your interests are well represented, though I think that Miss Granger will get something more out of her contract than I got out of mine." He winked with an impish smile. Chuckling, both men clinked glasses; completely ignored by the bickering couple.
The negotiations carried on through coffee, but after four hours of Malfoy and Hermione delving into the depths of double meanings and technicalities the contract was agreed upon. She would offer a second class for all interested in applied potions for an extra stipend. All patents filed while employed by Salem University would be split equally. She would have full control over her curriculum and would be able to choose her students; none could be forced on her. McPherson was a little green around the gills about the freedoms Granger would have in her position as teacher, but he also knew that she would be a tremendous asset to the university. The money spent would quickly come back in, since he had been able to find out that she was close to finishing another potions project, which she would be able to patent within the next two months. At which point she would already be an employee of the University.
Outside the restaurant they all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Blaise kissed her hand once more, while waggling his eyebrows and offered that she could stay in his apartment until she found one of her own. McPherson was a little scandalised at this offer, but Hermione's laugh at Zabini's offer had him relax. Malfoy had warned him that his friend was a flirt, but had assured the Dean that it wouldn't become a problem. Blaise would never flirt with a student or do anything with her for that matter. That would probably not stop hordes of girls from following Zabini around. Though this would also be true for Malfoy.
"Very well, gentlemen. Since we have finalised the details, I will prepare everything and we will meet again in Salem for the signing of the contract. I should be able to move within two weeks. Should there be any delays, I will inform you. Will this be acceptable?" McPherson nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course Miss Granger. I will take the liberty of enquiring about an apartment for you. Do you have any preferences?" Smiling she turned to him. He was a kind man and she had no doubt they would have a good relationship.
"Thank you Dean McPherson. That would be most kind of you. I would simply like to have enough space. Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini can possibly help you. I would need a big room only for my books as they can attest. I would also need a specially warded room to conduct experiments. If you only find something within a muggle area it's not a problem. I can ward the rooms myself if need be." McPherson nodded slowly. He was a little worried about having to approach muggles and possibly even having to spend longer time in non-wizarding environs. He would enlist the help of his children. They were more familiar with muggles and could help him no doubt.
"Not to worry Miss Granger. When you arrive in Salem everything will be prepared for you. Please do not worry and only concentrate on your packing and enjoy the next weeks with your family and friends." Hermione had to smile once more because of McPherson. Malfoy was the last to approach Hermione. She was a little taken aback at his intense gaze. His eyes locked on hers and she felt a strange prickle running up her spine. She felt somewhat like a deer in the headlights. With lithe grace he stepped closer to her, taking her hand into his. He slid it up his torso and once more mimed a kiss.
"I look forward to seeing you in Salem, Granger." He said with a deeper voice than usual, which made Hermione wonder. What was he playing at? Throwing a glance over Malfoy's shoulder at Blaise, she got no answer. The other man only shrugged. Clearing her throat, she took a step back.
"Well…then I wish you a good day gentlemen. Until in two weeks." She turned away and started off towards the wizarding district of Aughrim. From there she would take the next portkey back to London. Already her mind was buzzing with all the things she had to do. Packing up her belongings; cancelling the lease on her apartment, as well as taking off all the spells she'd put on it; closing her floo connection; handing in her resignation with the Ministry, and that was only the things concerning her magical connections. She also had to cancel her cell phone contract, as well as the contract for her telephone and internet connection. She needed to sell her car and all the other things needed to be done within two weeks. The moment she got home, she would need to put together a list and prioritise. A niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her to also figure out what this last stunt from Malfoy meant. It was a rather radical change from him concerning their previous interactions. Definitely worth more thought.
Back at the street corner the three men started to walk towards the wizarding district themselves. They kept close, since none of them were that experienced navigating muggle streets. They got honked at twice for trying to cross a street, while it was red for pedestrians. After those shocks they made it to the wizarding district, where they immediately frequented the closest pub and fortified themselves with several shots of Firewhiskey. McPherson left first, since he still had paperwork waiting for him. Blaise took this opportunity to talk privately with Draco.
"So…Granger, huh?" He asked, nipping at his latest glass of Firewhiskey. Confused Draco turned to him.
"What about her?" Snorting Blaise turned the small shot glass with the tips of his fingers.
"Come on, mate. I saw how you were looking at her. And that goodbye you gave her? Not really subtle." Draco frowned deeper and watched as Blaise emptied his glass.
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Really? Is this how you are going to play this? She's right up your alley, mate. Intelligent, sophisticated, good looking and more than able to take you on. You can't tell me you didn't notice." A little uncomfortable Draco shifted in his seat.
"I did notice, but you remember we are talking about Granger here. There is no way in hell she would ever consider someone like me."
"What? A handsome bloke with more money than he can possibly spend in a millennium and who's possibly as intelligent as her? Ah right. There is no way she would ever be interested in you." Chuckling Blaise shook his head. "How thick can you be?" Scowling Draco looked into the remains of his drink.
"You forgot ex-Death Eater and ex-convict. She deserves someone who doesn't remind her of the war or the terrible things she was forced to go through. Not to mention how beastly I was to her in school." Snorting Blaise waved his protests off.
"Merlin, Draco. You really are dredging deep for negative reasons. I doubt that she holds the war or anything that happened during it against you. If she did, I doubt she would have been as civil, dare I say friendly, to you as she was. As for you having been in prison; so what?! It only shows that you've paid your dues." Draco shook his head again, bitter regret on his face.
"You don't understand Blaise. You weren't as involved as I. After the war the name Malfoy equalled hate everywhere. If I hadn't been in prison, people would have hexed me on the street. When I was released there were protests in Diagon Alley to put me back in. They had to arrange for special transport via portkey directly to the Manor because they were afraid that someone would attempt to kill or injure me. I could only go to Diagon Alley in disguise. The one time I tried to go without, I was beaten within an inch of my life. St Mungo's had to register me under a false name and changed my hair colour so none of the orderlies would attempt to finish me off. Why do you think I left?! In the US I can go about undisturbed due to the simple fact that they do not know what I did." Blaise lowered his head. He hadn't known about his friend's troubles or that they were so severe.
"I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me? I doubt that I could have helped you with your public reception, but I at least could have kept you company." Chuckling darkly Draco downed his Firewhiskey in one.
"It wasn't your burden to bear." He said darkly. Snorting derisively Blaise sat back.
"Knock it off, Draco! All that penance crap is shit and you know it. You did wrong, you went to prison, end of story. It is clear from your behaviour since then that you have changed. If certain people are too thick to realise that then it is their loss. Stop flogging yourself. This 'woe me' behaviour is not necessary. If you feel an apology is required, then apologise. You've done all you can then and what people do afterwards is their thing. Don't hang yourself up on the narrow-mindedness of others. You have paid the price and now live your life for Circe's sake." Nodding to himself, Blaise motioned the barman over. "Now, we both know that you think Granger's hot and if she should be receptive, you will ask her out. That's not a suggestion. It's an order." A small smile tugged at Draco's lips.
"You do remember that I'm your boss, don't you?" Snorting Blaise lifted his refilled glass.
"Yeah right. You can try to boss me around, but we'll see who's boss by the end of this night." Groaning Draco let his brow hit the bar. He knew what this meant. A great night of drinking, followed by the mother of all headaches the next morning. But hell, it would be worth it. With a slightly bigger smile, he raised his glass.
"Get prepared to be beaten then." Blaise waggled his eyebrows.
"You wish." Laughing they clinked glasses and started on their binge.
