Author's Note:
I know this was a long time coming, but I hope seeing some more of Draco will help make up for it! I'd love to get your feedback- I know I have a penchant for writing about work and drawn out conversations, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
All thoughts of strong barista arms or lean professor bodies were temporarily gone as burn free hands worked diligently at mapping out the Wolfsbane schedule for Remus. She put her quill down and leaned back to look at the brightly coloured blocks on her desk calendar. She smiled at the green little squares that denoted her brewing time, starting this afternoon, and the little red ones labelled 'Appointment' . Tapping on an red square revealed more details, and seeing Remus' name listed in her notes made her happy.
She cast a tempus and the time glowed, showing it was just before lunch. Feeling accomplished, she picked up her bag with her lunch in it and decided to go down to the cafeteria a little early. A happy spring in her step as she got in the lift, people didn't stop to wonder at the cheery air around the bushy haired woman. Most employees were thinking about how to make it to Friday instead of wondering why they were being greeted with a glowing smile.
Navigating the maze that the Ministry is, and always will be, was something that took Hermione a little practice. Now the weird turns and offices that seemed to exist on multiple floors simultaneously were second nature as she wound her way through the ever thickening foot traffic as workers emerged for lunch. The rat race had originally bothered her, the single mindedness of getting ahead and how so many people could work together with such little community, but now she found she enjoyed it. The feeling of business, the idea that they were all (theoretically at least) working to make wizarding society function and progress.
She smiled at her own wistful idea of a better world and a better tomorrow as she entered the cafeteria. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but even her early departure couldn't beat out Ron when it meant getting to food. He waved her over with the grin that used to make her heart flutter.
He was sitting next to a couple other aurors Hermione knew peripherally through lunch times, and she greeted them as she sat next to her friend. It was nice to be past the awkward looks and whispers that fame had brought, and that they just said a simple hello and went back to Quidditch talk felt normal. Normal was coming back, day by day, despite a time where it felt it never would.
"How's things, Hermione?" Ron asked after swallowing a bite of his sandwich.
"Very good, Ron! You've learned not to talk with your mouth full!" she said in mock congratulations. The two aurors sitting by him laughed, and Ron snorted.
He took a huge bite and looked at her. "Thanks," he said thickly around a mouthful.
They laughed harder, but even the sight of half chewed food couldn't put her off after a productive morning.
Ron, surprisingly, picked up on her lack of irritation. "What's got you so hunk dory, eh?"
Her food laid out before her, Hermione delicately took a bite of her own sandwich (she still wasn't cooking anything fancy) and chewed slowly while staring at Ron. He huffed at her and looked at his coworkers. "See what I've dealt with all these years?"
They laughed awkwardly, not quite at the point where they felt comfortable to be making fun of Hermione, despite being happy to do so to their red headed friend.
Done her bite, she primly dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "If you must know," she said, trying to hold back her own laughter at their banter, "I have a client."
Ron's faux annoyance shifted into a genuine smile. He let out a whoop and hit Hermione on the back, and she made a show of her own irritation, despite not being able to keep the smile off her face.
"That's great!" he said, pulling her against his side in a one armed hug.
"What's great?" Harry asked, as he sat down across from them.
"Hermione's finally got a client! Gonna save the werewolf world, this one," Ron grinned. Coming from anyone else, that comment would have felt snide, but her heart warmed knowing that Ron really believed in that. Believed in her.
"That's brilliant! Who is it?" Harry asked, leaning forward intently.
She laughed. "You know very well I can't tell you," she chastised. Harry sat back with a huff.
"Oi! We're confidential. You know we can keep a secret!" Ron said, puffing his chest out.
"Yes, you and the whole cafeteria can know my entire client list... once I get more than one," she answered dryly. "No, I can't tell you."
The boys looked at each other and shrugged, used to her the tone of finality she had used. No bother arguing when Hermione had her mind made up, and accepting it just made life easier.
"Well, the whole new client thing deserves celebrating, which is perfect!" Harry said.
Hermione stared at him. "Oh?" she asked. "Perfect for what?"
Harry leaned in towards them conspiratorially. "I'm taking Ginny out tomorrow... going to pop the question."
Hermione gasped and Ron pulled a face. She congratulated him while Ron grimaced in acceptance, and Harry looked relieved to not have to argue.
"I want it to be a surprise, so saying it's for your first client is a good reason. Not that it's not worth celebrating on its own... do you mind, 'Mione?"
She laughed. "Of course not! You could say it was because Ron was pregnant and I wouldn't care!" Ron choked on his sandwich beside her, as she turned serious. "But don't you think she'd want this to be between just you two?"
He shook his head. "You know Ginny. She's gonna want all her friends and family there. Celebrating together, and what not. She's mentioned it before, so I think I'm pretty safe. The only awkward part is she'll probably want Draco there too, now that the two of them are besties."
"Since when do you call him Draco?" Ron asked, incredulous and angry at the same time.
Harry looked sheepish. "Well, since him and Ginny are friends it's kind of hard to keep calling him the ferret. He's not all that bad Ron, really."
He's certainly not all that good either, Hermione thought, as she recalled his rude comment in the hall this morning. Not a Death Eater, but certainly not a nice person... to her at least.
"How are you going to explain why he's there if this ostensibly a party for me?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't have an answer. The idea of Malfoy joining them made her uncomfortable, even if she wasn't angry about it like Ron was.
Harry shrugged. "I'll talk to him today... ask him to just show up and join us. Ginny'll love an opportunity to get us to play nice. She says he's not mean, that it's his sense of humour."
Hermione shared a disbelieving look with Ron. Harry sighed. "Look. Point is they've really been getting on. If Ginny likes him, he can't be all that bad. He was fine when I worked with him during the trials, even. Maybe he won't even want to come," he added.
That last bit perked Ron up. "That's right! The git isn't the type to want to be there for a proposal anyway. Especially surrounded by Gryffindors."
Hermione's attention was drawn to Tonks approaching Harry from behind. Her hair mousy and lank, she seemed equal parts sad and angry. She felt embarrassment at knowing what the reason was, and blushed despite herself.
Her hand fell on Harry's shoulder, and he twisted in his seat quickly, his hand on his wand. Either auror training or the life of being a target had left Harry perpetually jumpy and especially sensitive to surprises. Seeing Tonks, he relaxed slightly. "Hullo, Tonks," he greeted, his voice neutral. Hermione felt the nostalgia of Hogwarts news and how nothing remained a secret for long; Harry obviously already knew about the split.
"Is Remus staying with you?" she asked sharply, and Hermione felt her shoulders draw back in anger at her tone. Yes, the woman was obviously upset about her breakup, but that was no reason to talk to a friend that way. Then she noticed the slumped posture and red eyes and felt guilty about her self-righteousness. She knew what heartbreak was like. She glanced at Ron, who was watching the situation in confusion.
Harry looked uncomfortable and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, he's at Grimmauld..." he said slowly.
Tonks' eyes hardened. "Thanks, Harry," she said a bit too cheerfully before turning and leaving as abruptly as she had appeared.
"What the hell was that about?" Ron asked, looking at Tonks' retreating form and at Harry's downcast eyes.
"You don't remember the last time she was like this?" Hermione asked, wondering how it couldn't be obvious, despite that she already knew what the reason was. Ron shook his head. "Her and Remus broke up."
"I thought she said he was going to propose?" Ron asked, his eyebrows shooting up his freckled forehead.
"Obviously that wasn't the case." Hermione said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. Thinking of the warming interaction she had with Remus and taking him on as her client had her taking sides without meaning to.
"If they're broken up, should you have told her where Remus is staying?" Ron directed at Harry.
Hermione's eyebrows went up at this. It was uncharacteristic of Ron to read into the emotional dynamics of people, but when it came to working with the information after it was given to him (especially if it didn't involve him personally) he could be really insightful.
She looked at Harry. "You guys know her far better than I do. Do you think that's a problem?"
Harry still looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I dunno. She can be a little quick to act before thinking," Hermione snorted at that, giving Harry a pointed look. "Hey, I didn't say I'm not like that too! But, yeah, I don't know... she was just teary and it felt weird to lie to her since she's my superior..." he trailed off with a grimace at the look both Hermione and Ron were giving him.
"So, Remus is staying at Grimmauld? When did that happen?" Hermione asked.
Relieved to move passed his faux pas Harry quickly answered, "He asked a few days ago. Said he would be moving in today, which is probably why Tonks noticed he wasn't around."
"What's he doing about... y'know, his furry problem?" Ron asked, lowering his voice.
Hermione stiffened, hoping they wouldn't go back to asking about her clientele. Harry shrugged. "He said he would be fine this month and then he had a potioneer for his potion after that."
Ron looked sideways at Hermione, and she felt the moment when things clicked for him. She expected him to immediately call her out as the brewer for the potions, but instead he looked to Harry and said, "He's taken care of himself for years. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."
Hermione felt guilt wash over her. At first for her lack of belief in Ron, who had matured incredibly in some ways since joining the aurors. His quip about being confidential was true, and although that still meant that Hermione couldn't tell him, she was beginning to see more of the competent auror he was becoming.
Then she was thinking about what Harry said. Remus wouldn't get his potion until next month... and now he was moving with a week until the full moon with no one there to help him. She stared at her sandwich with a frustrated face, wondering how she could have missed that when she had told Remus there would be no wolfsbane this month.
"Hermione?" Harry was looking at her, and she realized he'd asked her a question.
"Sorry, I spaced out there for a second. What'd you say?"
"I was just checking you're down to meet at Lucy's for seven tomorrow," he said, referring to a nicer restaurant she'd heard of but never been to.
"Oh, yeah, that works for me," she said, her mind already returning to her new problem. "I've actually got some work to catch up on... I'll see you guys tomorrow after work."
Ron gave her another look, and she attempted a smile. "Muggle Fashion Friday tomorrow, boys. Don't forget again!" she said as she packed up her half eaten lunch and stood to leave.
Harry grinned and Ron rolled his eyes. The Ministry, in an attempt to normalize Muggle culture, had introduced their own version of casual Fridays where Muggleborns and halfbloods were encouraged to dress in Muggle clothing and to educate and encourage their pureblood coworkers to follow suit. It had been a mixed bag, but it was interesting seeing how some things were catching on.
They waved her goodbye and she made her way up to her office. She had funding proposals to write now that she was making the expensive Wolfsbane potion and smiled now that she could include that it was being made for a real client.
There was the familiar sound of office doors opening and closing and people beginning to fill up the halls on their way to the exits to head home. 5 o'clock had come quickly after lunch, and Hermione had sent more owls than she had since campaigning to start the Werewolf Support Service office in the first place. People liked to donate to an actual product, and advertising the start of the brewing process was a way to show people where their galleons would be going.
She laced her fingers and stretched them out. Soon the Ministry hustle and bustle would slow down and she would be able to brew uninterrupted. Not that she got many visitors in her stark little office, but the quiet and feeling of solitude always helped her focus on the complicated potion.
Entering into her brewing room she smiled. Up to this point all her brewing had been frustrating experiments as she fiddled with the wolfsbane formula. Most were obvious failures, but even if she did think she had something she knew she would never be able to test it. The theoretical was enticing, however, and she found herself coming in on weekends more and more to research the potion.
She waved her wand to the whiteboard on the side of the room and saw the potion instructions appear. At this point with all her practice she knew it by heart, but having it up on the board was comforting. Just in case.
Another flick of a wand and her wireless radio started up playing some jazzy tunes. No lyrics, they stole too much of her concentration, and she hummed distractedly as she went about the routine of gathering ingredients from her back cupboard.
She glanced at the dittany that Remus had helped her rub in while she grabbed a polished wooden cauldron from a shelf. She remembered the feather light touch of his hands at first before he got distracted by the task and she had to step away. The focus he had reminded her of herself, and she didn't doubt that Harry and Ron had seen herself get lost in a project one too many times.
She filled the cauldron with water taken from a wild spring and let thoughts of Remus slip away as comforting routine and the wonderful feeling of productiveness swept over her.
Finally at a stopping point, she lowered the heat on the silver cauldron and set it to slowly turn for the night. She would need to be in early, 630 to be exact, to continue working on the potion, but for now she could breathe a sigh of relief.
She ran her hands through her frizzed out hair that the potion steam had pushed out of control and then stretched her hands toward the ceiling. Tilting her head one way and then the other, she tried to release the tension in her neck.
She hummed along disjointedly to the radio, not knowing the pieces that were playing and cast a tempus to see it was 8:30 in the evening. Feeling accomplished with a day well spent, she turned to leave and let out a scream while simultaneously bringing her wand up.
Draco leaned against the door and while he had raised an eyebrow at her outburst, he hadn't moved despite the wand trained on him.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he said politely as he stood up properly. She was unsure if he was sincere or covering up his amusement. Or maybe both.
She let out a shaky breath and lowered her wand. "What are you doing here?" she asked, not caring her tone was sharp. She felt a little entitled to some abruptness, given he hadn't knocked, made an appointment or anything. She wondered how long he had been standing there watching her brew.
"I was here late after an appointment, when I saw your door open. I needed to speak with you and face to face always gets things moving better than an owl would," he said.
She felt awkward being in her post-brewing mess while he stood in her brewing station as if he had been in there a thousand times. A spark of irritation jolted through her at the feeling of her space being invaded.
"I see," she said shortly. Well, he was here now and it was best to deal with problems immediately. She internalized a sigh. "Please, take a seat in my office and I'll be right with you."
He nodded and walked out the door into her office, leaving it slightly ajar so she could have privacy but while maintaining the invitation into the room with him. She stood there alone for a moment and tried to slow her beating heart at the start he had given her. Surely he of all people should know better than to sneak up on people.
Except sneaking is what Slytherins do, she thought and was surprised by the uncharitable nature of the sentiment. She was beginning to sound like Ron as a teenager, and the idea at being so black and white made her grimace. She couldn't be thinking like now when cooperation was still so important.
She waved the radio off and gathered herself. This was business. She started her own department. She could do business with a Slytherin.
She entered her bright white and tidy office and sat on the other side of the patiently waiting Malfoy. He sat comfortably, yet with impeccable posture in her guest chair.
"So, Mr. Malfoy what can I help you with today?" she asked in what she hoped was a neutral way. His own face only held a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"If it's a bad time, I really can come back tomorrow if you'd like," he said, without making any motion to move. She waved the comment off and waited for him to continue. "Well, to cut to the chase: I want to run a charity event for your department."
She stared at him in disbelief. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, wondering when the punch line of the joke would show up.
He gave a one shouldered shrug that somehow looked graceful. "You're more than aware of the reputation I have. That my family has. My father, criminal as he may be, was smart about how he positioned the Malfoys after his first entanglement with you know who. My goal isn't to have the ministry in my pocket, but it certainly is to start saving face for my family name."
She nodded. It made sense. Lucius Malfoy, she hated to admit, wasn't an idiot. While Draco hadn't gone to trial and lied through his teeth like his father had, there were similarities there in career that were hard to ignore.
"So to gain favour with the public you decided to pick my department?" she asked and immediately regretted the question. Obviously he had, he was sitting in the chair, wasn't he? She was too used to talking to Gryffindors, who happily stated the obvious.
That small smile that didn't reach his eyes remained in place. "Ginevra was the one who heavily," he paused for a moment, "suggested that I come to your end of the Ministry."
More evidence to the growing friendship between her best friends' sister and soon to be fiancé with the arrogant blond man sitting in front of her. Coworkers or not, it was hard to imagine the hot headed Ginny strong arming Draco Malfoy into something. It just didn't seem to fit right in her head.
"I see. You're aware that attempts to fundraise for this department won't win you the same brownie points as the department of defence or something similar would, aren't you?" She didn't know why she was trying to talk him out of raising money for her office. She felt like kicking herself, but at the same time her curiosity was pushing her. "I had a woman throw scalding coffee on me this morning for helping werewolves. Are you sure that's going to make the Malfoy name all nice and shiny?"
She was appealing to the emotional, she knew. That bringing up her own personal attack would generally gain a deep response from her usual friends, but in this case was probably showcasing a failure to remain composed.
He stared at her for a moment, as if waiting to see if she would continue, steely eyes unmoved by her question. "I recognize that other departments would be a safer bet, but I'm afraid that they would also be expected and not gather the crowd I want. I don't plan on using werewolves as a spectacle, brewing wolfsbane is a worthy endeavour, but you have to admit they get people's attention. Your... altercation today is proof enough of that."
She felt the wind come out of her sails. It did make sense. There was charity events for every huge department and they were at this point routine, even in the post-war world. She didn't bother to ask him about if he really cared about getting money to help werewolves or not... she already knew that wasn't point of this for him. It felt somehow wrong to do this not for werewolves, but really it wasn't like the money was going into Malfoy's pocket. She could really use the funding; she had just spent all afternoon begging for money after all.
"It doesn't mean we have to publicly become friends, Granger," he said, as if assuming her hesitation was due to his involvement rather than his motives.
She shook her head. "It's not you that's the problem," she said. Then she raised her hands in confusion. "Or it is, I guess. I'm sorting it out."
He nodded, seemingly unsurprised at hearing that. She realized that he must have had his fair share of hate since working his way back into the Ministry.
She ran a frustrated hair through her frizzy curls. "No, it's not like that. It's that you don't actually care about helping werewolves. I get that. But am I going to have issues with clients because of that?"
"I already said I think that what the office does is a good thing," he said shortly.
"Yes, and then when you walk by a werewolf in front of my office you make snide comments!" She didn't realized how much that had been bothering her until she snapped it at him. That a nice moment had been called down by his remark.
He raised his eyebrows. "I see." He paused to think for a moment and then said haltingly, "I can understand why you would have taken it that way... When spending so much time with Ginevra she talks about her friends incessantly. I suppose it made me get used to the idea of making a joke to you, when I've been so comfortable doing so with your friend. It had nothing to do with Lupin being a werewolf."
For the first time since entering her office he looked uncomfortable. Hermione couldn't help the little crow of victory that rose up inside of her. To see poised and proper Malfoy display some emotion other than cool arrogance felt like a win, even if his explanation was more than lacking.
"It's not been that long since Hogwarts, Malfoy," she commented quietly. "You can't just assume to joke with someone who still thinks of you as the school bully."
His posture was ramrod straight, and she noticed the muscles in his jaw tense. For some reason it was an appealing sight, seeing the bunched up emotions in his face where there had been none earlier. "I apologize. I will watch my tongue far more closely in the future. It was a mistake on my part."
The idea of Draco Malfoy apologizing to the muggleborn Hermione Granger was absurd, and yet she didn't feel surprised. It was not spit out in anger with a teacher standing behind him. It had come, seemingly, always seemingly with Slytherins, out of what looked to be a genuine place
"I still feel like I'm supposed to hate you," she said. His face was schooling back into businesslike neutrality before she added, "And I hate that."
His attempts to regain himself seemed thwarted. He furrowed his brow and stared at her. The studied nonchalance in his steely eyes melting away slightly from the heat of her own fiery heart. She was no fool, she knew this wasn't a change of heart. That she wasn't changing him. But for this moment where grey met brown eyes there seemed to be an understanding of one another in their new world out of school, out of war, out of conflict.
She saved him from having to respond. "I'm excited to work with you. I can't deny how much this would benefit both our working lives." She stood up and he followed suit.
He reached out to shake her hand, and she took it without hesitation. He was surprisingly warm, his hand while delicate looking felt enormous wrapped around her own. She firmly shook back, and on a whim grabbed his hand with her others so she was holding his one in both of hers.
"Ginny really cares for you," she said, looking at his stony face. "I don't mean to act like more of a Gryffindor than is professional, but I hope this means we can start over."
It had been so easy to jump on the Malfoy hate with Ron the last while. To remember him from Hogwarts, to know his failings in choosing sides, to have had those years of rivalry in school and war still fresher than they had a right to be.
But now with his warm hands in hers, and his face being more confused than shocked or disgusted or angry, she could see a sliver of that person her friend had managed to see. He was looking down at her, and this close she noticed for the first time how tall he was. Close to the same height as Ron, certainly taller than Lupin given the hug she'd gotten this morning. It struck her that he was a grown man, in his own career, in his own life, and no longer the indoctrinated little boy who had terrorized her for years.
On top of that, she realized this was the closest the two had ever been if she didn't count the time her fist had kissed his face. She could feel the heat coming off him, from more than just the hand clasped in front of her, and smell the subtle cologne he was wearing, something spicy and aromatic.
One moment. One brief moment where she felt he was too close, but couldn't let go. His eyes were locked on hers, and she felt a spark, a little charge, race through her. One tiny held breath before he nodded slowly and she let go quickly and laughed awkwardly while taking a step back. "Sorry. Let's just say we both overstepped boundaries and now we can begin fresh in that regard too."
The small smile was back, and while it still didn't reach his eyes, it felt like more than just an act too. "That would be... preferable."
"Owl me for the next time you want to meet, then?" she asked, trying to regain some of the professionalism they'd held in the beginning, despite it being a lost cause.
"I'll do that. Take care." With that, he turned and exited the office, her own 'goodbye' following his back out the door.
She stared at the doorway for a moment. Emotions tumbled through her that she struggled to define.
The scars from childhood chafing.
The strange feeling of healing, both a relief and a challenge.
And a warm sensation that confused her.
Author's note: That's chapter four! Hope you enjoyed and, as always, I would love to hear what you thought. Thanks for reading!