Several weeks after Malfoy had begun working at the Ministry, Hermione still wasn't finding it any easier to work with him. She found him irritating. His sarcasm was endless and he was always sucking up to the senior members of staff, but of course they loved him for it. It was bad enough that he was interfering in her work but now, to make matters worse, he was constantly around Harry.
The pair had thrown themselves into planning the charity Quidditch match; both having chosen their teams and were now training hard as well as finding a venue, selling tickets, and spreading the news about what the money was for. Every time Hermione needed to speak with Draco about work, he was either in Harry's office or in his own writing an interdepartmental memo to him. The straw that broke the camel's back finally came when Hermione walked into Draco's office one morning to find him and Harry sharing a joke and laughing together. Neither of them looked up when she entered the office, so she slammed the door behind her.
"Oh. Er, hi Hermione," Harry said awkwardly.
"Harry," Hermione replied curtly, "can I tear Draco away from you for a minute please?"
Harry nodded and clapped Draco on the back before leaving the office, Hermione glaring at him as he walked past her. Malfoy cleared his throat to gain her attention.
"How can I help, Granger?"
"I just wanted to let you know that our petition from Germany just arrived. It seems your teacher friend has quite a few contacts over there. There are over a thousand signatures on here."
"Brilliant," said Draco, smiling broadly, "I knew Lukas wouldn't let me down. That's more than enough to make the Leutchten listen. I'll write to them now and send the petition with it." He stretched his hand out to take the parchment Hermione was holding.
"Actually," Hermione said, tightening her hold on the petition, "I've already started writing it, so I'll send it, and you can go back to organising your little game with Harry."
"Granger, I get that you're not happy that me and Potter are on speaking terms now but let's not forget that the 'little game' is for an excellent cause, one which you should understand. Don't let your jealousy get in the way of our work. It would be better if I wrote the letter as I speak fluent German not unlike the recipient of the letter."
"Then I'll have it translated," Hermione said, "but it will come from me."
"You're being ridiculous, just give me the petition." Draco once again reached for the parchment.
"No," Hermione told him through gritted teeth. She turned to leave the office, not noticing Draco reaching into his robes. Just as she stepped out into the corridor, Draco pointed his wand at her.
"Accio petition!" He caught the paper that flew at him, closed and locked the door before Hermione had even reacted.
As soon as she realised what Draco had done, she began banging on his office door. "Draco Malfoy you open this door, right now! Give me that petition back! You can't stay in there forever you-"
"Hermione!" Duggen's head appeared from around his own office next door, a confused expression on his face. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing?"
"Sorry, sir. It's just Malfoy, you see he-" she stammered, but Duggen interrupted.
"Get in here and sit down." Duggen watched Hermione take a seat in front of his desk before leaving the room. She heard him banging on Malfoy's door and then he returned a few minutes later, with Malfoy following him into the room.
"Sit," Duggen said, pointing at the seat next to Hermione's. Draco sat down.
"This is the last time I will say this. The pair of you had better find some way to get on or you will quickly find yourselves replaced. I cannot and will not have this level of unprofessionalism in my department. I don't care what has just been going on that would prompt you, Draco, to lock yourself in your office, or you, Hermione, to bang on the door whilst screaming like a banshee. I don't have the time to hear either of your tales. I've got a meeting with an unspeakable that is, frankly, more important. So, I'll leave you with this: if you can't fix this between yourselves, mark my words, I will." He then dismissed the pair who left without another word.
Hermione decided that it would be best to ignore Malfoy for the rest of the day to allow herself some time to calm down. She was ashamed of her behavior. She had been childish and unprofessional; not at all the image she had been presenting for the last five years. She hated that she had let Malfoy get under her skin and made her revert to her teenage self, but she seemed to have no control over herself when he wound her up.
After a good night sleep that night, Hermione woke the next day with a new determination to not let Malfoy get to her, and to work with him the best she could. Her theory was: if she didn't get annoyed he would stop trying to annoy her. So when she arrived at work that morning, she headed straight to Malfoy's office, planning to ask him to write their letter to the Leutchten together.
To her dismay, she found Duggen already in there, a serious expression on his face.
"Hermione, you're here, excellent. I need you and Draco to take a break from whatever you were planning on doing this morning and head down to the Department of Mysteries for me. I was chatting with an Unspeakable yesterday, a good friend of mine named Ernie Portree. I mentioned the work you had been doing and he told me he knows a chap on the Leutchten who may be able to help you, said to send you down there to speak with him this morning."
"Brilliant!" exclaimed Malfoy. "I think we'll have Zauber accepting Muggle-borns by next year!"
Hermione couldn't help but agree. "I think you're right, this is a huge help. Where is your friend's office Mr Duggen?"
"Department of Mysteries," he replied. "When you enter, as soon as you close the door behind you, the room spins."
Hermione nodded her head. "I know, I went there in school. How will we know which door is his room?"
"He said his will be the door at the three o clock position. When you get in the room there will be another door, in the middle of the room. You'll find him through there. No need to knock; he's expecting you."
He bid the pair farewell and they left the room. Hermione led the way remembering the route well. She felt a sense of unease at going back to the department of mysteries; she had almost died the last time she was there; Sirius had died. She waited for Draco to enter the circular room filled with the twelve doors and then took a deep breath before closing the door behind him. She closed her eyes, not wanting to experience the dizziness that always came each time the doors moved around, she could hear Malfoy's sharp intake of breath and then heard him say 'woah' and presumed the doors had stopped.
She opened her eyes and headed to the door to her right where the number three would be on a clock, and pushed it open. The room behind it was unfamiliar. It was dark and had a strong sense of the unknown which greatly unsettled Hermione; she liked familiar. There were a dozen or so candles providing the only source of light in the room and Hermione could only just make out a door in the centre. She paused to see if her eyes would adjust to the darkness, but did not warn Malfoy who walked straight into the back of her.
"Come on, Granger. What are you waiting for?" he said, nudging her toward the door.
"It's dark. I'm just trying to see the room better."
"What is there to see? There's the door, open it," he said simply.
"That door looks like it's in the middle of the room though, the only thing beyond that door is the rest of the room..." she drifted off, trying to peer around it but failing to see anything. She didn't trust this room, or the entire department for that matter. "Do you feel like someone is watching us?" She said suddenly.
"No," Draco replied simply. "Now come on, brave Gryffindor. Open up, let's go and see this Portree."
Hermione shook her head trying to rid herself of the uneasy feelings, and groped in front of her for the doorknob. She found her target, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped through. Malfoy followed suit. What happened next was something neither of them expected.
A bright light blinded them both. Hermione quickly squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and put her hands over them for good measure. She slowly released them, introducing light to her retinas gradually, and finally gaped at the scene before her.
It was a bright, sunny day and she was standing outside on a large grassy area. Six large teenage boys were standing in front of her wearing Slytherin team Quidditch robes and holding brooms. One of them also held a small piece of parchment and was speaking.
"-owing to the need to train their new seeker."
A new voice from came from behind and made Hermione jump. She spun around, noticing that Draco was standing next to her as she did so.
"You've got a new seeker? Where?" The new speaker was Oliver Wood, also wearing Quidditch robes and holding a broom. Hermione's eyes, however, were now drawn to a figure behind Oliver; a figure whose face bore a shocked expression and then spoke. It was Fred Weasley.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?"
Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from Fred. She had once struggled to tell the difference between him and George but now there was no mistaking the face she had not seen in over five years. She paid no attention to the scene that continued to unfold around her and it wasn't until Malfoy grabbed her arm so hard it hurt that she looked away from Fred.
"Ow! What the-" Hermione began, but Malfoy merely pointed behind her.
Hermione turned and was met with another confusing scene. Twelve year old Draco Malfoy was standing before her looking extremely smug.
"That's me...how?" the Malfoy next to her stuttered.
"A memory maybe? This is the day you got on the Quidditch team, I remember because that was the same day Ron-" she whipped head around and then stepped back from the two groups of Quidditch players,
"-ate slugs. There look, it's Ron and well, me. We're heading over now."
Sure enough, second year Ron and Hermione were now approaching the scene. Ron was demanding to know why the Slytherins, more specifically Malfoy, were there.
"It has to be a memory. They haven't acknowledged us; they can't see or hear us. Oh no..." Hermione quickly realised what was about to happen, the reason Ron had cast the spell that would backfire.
Young Malfoy was speaking. "No-one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."
The players and Ron quickly broke into a scuffle, Hermione fixed her eyes on them furiously avoiding Malfoy's eyes that she could feel were on her. Unfortunately for her, Harry, Ron, and her younger self were now walking past in the direction of Hagrid's and the Gryffindor team were retreating into the castle. This left Hermione watching the Slytherin team still doubled over with laughter at Ron's misfortune.
She glanced to her left and was surprised to find herself alone. She whipped her head around looking for Malfoy, but he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he had found a way out of the memory without her and inwardly cursed him. Young Malfoy quickly distracted her from her anger, however. He had managed to straighten himself up and was now wiping the tears from his eyes.
"That will teach the Weasel," he said. "How dare he try to curse me! Father always said the Weasley's were a disgrace to wizards, obviously he's no different. Why bother risking cursing himself over that Mudblood? I'd say he fancied her but have you seen that bushy hair and those teeth?" This was met with more laughter from his teammates as they mounted their brooms and kicked off the ground to begin their practice. Hermione felt sick with disgust.
"Granger?" A voice from behind made Hermione turn around. It was Malfoy.
"Where have you been?" she scolded. "I thought you'd managed to get out of here!"
"No, I wish," he replied shaking his head. "I followed you, well, younger you, to Hagrid's. Your face, when he told you what Mud-that word, meant. You looked so-"
"Save it, Malfoy. Let's just work out how we get out of here," Hermione interrupted him.
As the pair looked at their surroundings, searching for a clue that would help them leave, Hermione felt a pulling sensation in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling; it was like she had touched a portkey. Before she had the chance to ask Malfoy if he felt it too, she was pulled from the spot and the scene before her changed dramatically. Hermione found herself in the last place she would have wanted to be.
She and Malfoy were in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor.