AN: Thanks so much to everyone who followed and favorited! This story is getting a lot more attention than I expected :D Hearts and hugs to LightofEvolution and KaneWolfe for reviewing last chapter!
Here's Hermione...
Changing Scenery
Chapter 10: Work
Hermione stumbled as she landed in her apartment, her stomach roiling from Apparation as she quickly walked to her bathroom and then dug around in the cabinet until she found the Sober-Up Potion she kept for the rare times she had more than a couple drinks. She downed it and then cast a Tempus charm, waiting the five minutes until it activated. When they'd passed and her stomach was still full of butterflies, she reluctantly had to admit that they weren't caused by alcohol, but from kissing Harry. And dancing with Malfoy. She blushed at the thought.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, having yet to leave the bathroom. Even though minutes had passed since leaving the club, well, fleeing might have been a more accurate term, her cheeks were still flushed and she still hadn't managed to catch her breath. Why on earth did I kiss Harry? And dance with Malfoy? And with Harry and Malfoy at the same time? I must be crazy! She frowned at her reflection and then set about brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed. When she'd done all that and she still had flutters in her stomach, she stomped into her bedroom, annoyed. She undressed, changed into her most comfortable pajamas, and then tucked herself into bed.
And then she stared at the ceiling. She couldn't get her mind to stop replaying the dance in her head. When she felt herself start to get wet just from thinking about the way it had felt to be pressed between Harry and Malfoy, she sat up, annoyed. A wave of her hand lit the lamp beside her bed. Crookshanks, who had curled up by her feet, lifted his head long enough to glare at her before settling back down with a distinctly disgruntled expression.
Hermione, refusing to accept that she could possibly be so worked up over a kiss – a fantastic snog that was better than any of the sex you've had recently – picked up the book she was currently reading, a treatise on werewolf laws in Romania, and flipped to her current page.
She struggled through two pages before giving up. Normally she would have found it fascinating, but she couldn't seem to keep her attention on the words and closed the book in annoyance.
She set the book back on her table, muttered Nox, and then slumped back down in bed. Crookshanks shifted himself until he was pressed up against her leg, near enough for her to reach. She patted him and stared at the ceiling until she finally fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning, her alarm went off far too early. Hermione had managed to get a battery-powered alarm clock to work despite the magical currents which normally kept electricity from functioning, but the only sound it could make was a loud jangling ring. She winced and slapped it to make it quiet down. She rolled over to find Crookshanks staring at her in disapproval. He meowed loudly in her face and then hopped down and sauntered into the kitchen.
She managed to get through her morning routine with a minimum of cursing. This is what you get for not getting enough sleep. She was very glad she'd taken a Sober-Up Potion the night before, because she knew she was out of Hangover Potion. After she ate breakfast, she quickly used magic to wash and dry her dishes before Apparating away.
Hermione appeared at the Apparation point at the end of the drive of the Pax Home for War Orphans. As she walked up the gravel drive, she considered the building. It had started as a manor confiscated from one of the Death Eaters, which Hermione had bought off the Ministry. But Hermione had made so many changes, both to the interior and exterior, that it was nearly unrecognizable. It now had a homey feel even from a distance. When she walked in, she was pleased by how light the foyer was. She had redone all the floors in bamboo except for the foyer, which she had redone in white marble, and enlarged all the windows.
Astoria walked out of a room off the left side of the foyer. She smiled at her, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked up to Hermione and gave her a hug. She didn't look any the worse for wear for having gone out last night.
"I'm so glad you could come by today," Astoria said.
Hermione sighed. "I wish I could have come sooner, but work has been so busy."
Astoria lowered her voice. "Does that have to do with Draco?"
Hermione looked at her quizzically. "How do you know about that?"
"Narcissa invited Daphne and I over last week for luncheon and I noticed Draco's new…appendages," Astoria explained delicately.
"Ah. He seems to have gotten control of those," Hermione said, remembering that he hadn't had them out at the club the night before. Although he still looked bloody gorgeous.
Astoria nodded. "Yes, I noticed that last night. I'm not surprised. I didn't know him well in school, but he didn't seem like the type to enjoy being taken by surprise or out of control."
That's for sure. "No, he doesn't."
"But you didn't answer my question. And I didn't see you leave last night." Astoria said.
"I didn't come here to gossip, Astoria," Hermione said, lightly chiding.
Astoria only smiled. "Of course not, but you can talk while we walk."
Hermione rolled her eyes and led the way upstairs.
Astoria coughed politely when they were halfway up the staircase and Hermione laughed.
"All I can say is that it may have to do with Draco." Hermione looked sidelong at Astoria, who nodded speculatively. "And I left after dancing a couple songs with Harry." That's partially true, at least. "Now, tell me how things have been here."
Astoria smiled brightly. "Phoebe is absolutely wonderful. Everything is running quite smoothly. She's with the children right now, so I volunteered to work in the office."
Hermione had hired Phoebe Selwyn, a half-blood whose uncle had fought with Voldemort, as the manager of the home. Phoebe had been raised in Spain and so had been out of the country during the war, but she had been distressed to learn of her family's involvement with Voldemort. She had been running part of her family's business, but had applied to work at the home when she saw an article about it in the Prophet. Hermione had been more than happy to hire her.
Astoria continued her update. "A lot of the children are missing the ones who just started at Hogwarts; otherwise most of them are doing quite well. Some of them are still quite shy, and Clarissa is still having nightmares, as are some of the older children. Phoebe suggested hiring a full-time counselor for them."
Hermione nodded. "That's a good idea."
They'd reached the second floor and stood outside one of the many doors. It was clearly marked with a sign that read "Art Room" and shrieks and laughter could be heard even from the hallway. Hermione opened the door and was assaulted as soon as she stepped inside.
"Missy Hermy!"
"We missed you!"
Hermione laughed and kneeled down to accept the hugs from the children. Before being promoted two years ago, Hermione had spent much more time at the home, but as head of the department she rarely had time to spend an afternoon, let alone a day, there. She was genuinely pleased to have the time to see the children again.
She accepted the greetings and returned as many hugs as she could. The older children retreated a bit once they'd said hello, but the younger ones clung to her happily.
"How is everyone today?" Hermione asked.
Giggles greeted her question.
"Phe has blue hair!" Nadine, one of the younger girls, exclaimed.
"Rolly made it purple and then blue!" Penelope, an older girl, added.
Hermione looked at Roland, a five-year old, who was sitting on the floor giggling madly.
"It was a accident!" Rolly said. "I tot she'd look funny!"
Hermione laughed and looked up at Phoebe, who had joined them. She did indeed have blue hair, so bright it was nearly neon.
"She does look funny," Hermione whispered loudly, inciting another round of giggles. Even some of the shyer children were laughing.
"They were supposed to be drawing pictures," Phoebe said dryly.
"Did you all draw pictures?" Hermione asked.
Lots of nods and more giggling.
"Show me," Hermione suggested. The two children who had settled on her lap clambered off, allowing her to stand, and then immediately a child grabbed hold of each hand and towed her towards the tables at the other end of the room.
Hermione spent several minutes examining each child's picture and then joined them for the next activity – finger painting. Hermione had worn old clothes in the expectation of getting a little dirty and was not disappointed. After finger painting she joined the children in playing outside, engaging in a rousing game of ground Quidditch, since most of the children were too young to use broomsticks, and then three games of tag before joining Phoebe, who was supervising from the side. Astoria had returned to the office.
"Fenny," Hermione called, summoning one of the house elves Hermione employed at the home.
A house elf in a clean set of clothes appeared with a soft crack.
"Yes, Missy Hermy?" she asked in a squeaky voice.
"Would you mind bringing several pitchers of lemonade?"
"Of course, Missy!" The elf Disapparated with another soft crack.
Hermione sat down in a plush chair beside Phoebe. "Any news?"
"Not really," Phoebe replied. "All the children passed their most recent health check-up. And the home is doing fairly well financially." Phoebe slanted a glance at her. "Strange how we always receive a very large donation a few days after you review the budget."
Hermione blinked. "Very strange. But that's great. So Alexandra recovered from her bout of influenza?"
Phoebe nodded. "The healer was pleased with her progress. It was more difficult to treat since she's allergic to Pepper-Up, but the muggle medicine you suggested worked really well."
Hermione nodded in satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear it."
Fenny appeared at that moment, levitating several pitchers of lemonade and a stack of glasses. She placed them gently on a nearby table before Disapparating again. Hermione poured two glasses, and then brought them over, handing one to Phoebe.
"Astoria was telling me that you'd like to hire a full-time counselor?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, I think it would be good for the children to have someone they know they can talk to any time they need to. Their teachers and nannies are here, of course, but I know some of the older children in particular would like someone…different."
"I can understand that. I think it's a good idea. Go ahead and hire someone, I trust you to find someone reliable and discreet. There are plenty of empty suites they can move into."
"I'll get started right away," Phoebe said, looking pleased.
Hermione finished her glass of lemonade and then stood up and stretched. "I forgot how energetic they are! I guess I don't get as much exercise as I should."
Phoebe laughed. "There's nothing like a bunch of enthusiastic children to make you feel old and creaky."
Hermione grinned. "Hardly creaky."
Phoebe grinned back. "Well, maybe not creaky yet."
"Still, I should reconsider going to the gym a few times a week. Anyway, I'm going to check in with Astoria and then I'll join you for lunch."
Hermione spent an hour discussing various administrative details with Astoria before they both joined the children for lunch in the dining room, which had been made more child-friendly, including with a lower table and sunny yellow walls.
After lunch, she spent more time playing with the children before returning home at half three. She spent the rest of the afternoon doing paperwork, had a quiet dinner, and then went to bed early.
Hermione was glad to sleep in on Sunday, even though she knew she still had lots to do before Monday. She'd gotten an owl from Harry late yesterday evening saying that he'd be by around two, so she didn't feel rushed as she had a late breakfast still in her pajamas. She changed into comfortable sweats and then started in on her paperwork.
As the clock ticked closer to two, Hermione started getting nervous. This is ridiculous. He's your oldest friend. So what if you snogged in a club. While dancing with Draco Malfoy. Even knowing it was silly, Hermione changed into something slightly less sloppy than her holey sweatpants and ratty t-shirt.
Despite long experience having taught her that Harry would undoubtedly be late, at two o'clock Hermione was sitting in her living room with all her books on Veela in a neat stack on the table and a cup of tea prepared the way Harry liked under a stasis charm.
When the flames in the hearth turned green fifteen minutes later, Hermione nearly jumped into the air. Get a hold of yourself!
She forced herself to look down at the paperwork spread out on the table and then waited until she heard Harry step out of the fireplace before she looked up. She smiled when she looked at him. If there was one thing that was reliable about Harry Potter, it was that his hair was almost always in a perpetual state of disarray. It was currently sticking up crazily as though he hadn't bothered to brush it that morning, although Hermione was sure he had.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said, waving his wand to vanish the soot that clung to his clothes before draping his coat over the back of the empty armchair.
"Hey, Harry." Hermione stood and hugged him. Just like friends do. The hug was comforting and familiar, and she was relieved that there didn't seem to be any lingering awkwardness from Friday night.
When he sat down he automatically cancelled the stasis charm and took a sip of the tea she'd set out for him. Hermione always had tea ready for him, and vice versa. It was one of their familiar habits.
Once Harry had set his teacup down, he fished around in his pocket before eventually pulling out several shrunken files and books, which he then enlarged to their original size.
"I brought the case files for you to review. I know you've seen some of them already, but I brought them all so that you'd have everything in front of you. I also brought along all the books and papers we recovered from the house where he was holding Malfoy – everything that looked like it was related to the ritual."
Hermione smiled at him in approval. "Perfect. Are you hoping to find anything in particular?" She cleared away the table, sending her paperwork to another table.
Harry set down the stack of papers and books and then ran a hand through his hair, doing nothing for its state of disarray. "I'm not sure. What Robards wants to know is whether you think it's possible to turn a human into a Veela. We don't think he succeeded, at any rate. We tested his blood and it was entirely human."
Hermione nodded absently, already flipping through the case files, noting absently that Harry was working on another file. She had seen most of the files already, and she was mostly interested in the transcript of Harry's most recent conversation with Dunham. She read it several times before going back through the other conversations. She then carefully looked through the photos from the house, especially those of the room where it looked Dunham had been setting up his ritual.
When she'd finished with the files, she turned her attention to the books. She quickly skimmed the titles and frowned. She'd rarely seen a more eclectic collection. There were books on magical creatures generally and on Veela specifically, Herbology texts, a book on native Haitian voodoo magic, several books on blood rituals, an advanced muggle chemistry textbook, another muggle book on genetics, a book on wizard oaths, three different books on the Dark Arts that Hermione knew were banned by the Ministry, and three books that looked like journals.
Slightly overwhelmed, she decided to start with his journals, hoping to make sense of the other books without wasting time. She opened each journal, trying to figure out which one was first. Dunham hadn't done anything as useful as dating each entry, but she decided it was likely that the neatest journal was the earliest.
She spent nearly two hours going through the journals, knowing that she'd need a lot more time to go through them thoroughly. Even the parts she'd skimmed had made her decidedly ill. She set down the third journal and leaned back, stretching her back. Playing with the children yesterday had made her surprisingly sore.
Harry looked up at her. At some point, he'd made a pot of tea, which sat under a stasis charm. Hermione refreshed her cup, which had long since gone cold.
"Did you find anything?"
Hermione took a soothing sip of her tea before answering his question. "Unfortunately. The man is clearly deranged, you need to make sure he goes to Azkaban for a long time. The things he did were truly terrible." When Hermione thought of those things being done to Malfoy, her vision grew red and hazy. She hadn't had such a violent urge to hunt someone down and kill them since the war ended. She shook her head. Why on earth am I so protective of Malfoy?
Harry frowned. "Malfoy said something about curses."
Hermione grimaced. "There was that. Dunham used curses in order to instigate Malfoy's transformation. But Malfoy wasn't the first person Dunham used to try to become a Veela. According his journals, Malfoy was the fourth person Dunham kidnapped."
"The fourth?" Harry looked horrified.
Hermione nodded, handing Harry the second journal. "The first three people died when Dunham tried to complete the ritual he'd designed."
Harry accepted the journal with one hand and rubbed his other hand through his hair. "Merlin, that's awful. Malfoy didn't mention anything about that."
"He probably didn't know."
"So why didn't Malfoy die?" Harry asked, flipping through the journal.
Hermione picked up the third journal. "From what I understand, I don't think that Dunham had started the ritual yet with Malfoy. The potion that he was using in the ritual needed to brew for at least a fortnight after the ingredients were combined." Thank Merlin.
"Well that's something I suppose. So then what did Dunham mean when he said he was close? Was he actually close to making himself into a Veela?"
Hermione sighed. "It's hard to say. Inventing spells and potions is tricky enough, but rituals are vastly more complicated. Added onto that, he was mixing several different types of magic and combining potions and spells – it's impossible to say. He has some Arithmantic charts, but I haven't checked his calculations."
"So it's possible?"
"He hadn't completed the ritual, so it's not possible that he succeeded. But I couldn't say whether it's possible that he could turn a human into a Veela without spending a lot more time with his journals. With how much research he put into this, he must have been working for months."
Harry set down the journal. "Well, at least I have a better idea now of what to charge him with."
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry," she said, and then hesitated before pushing on, "I don't think you should show these journals to many people."
"Why?" he asked, looking curious but not wary.
"People are funny about Veela. You know how muggles are fascinated by vampires?"
Harry nodded.
"Well wizards are drawn to Veela in the same way. If word got out that someone had gotten close to a way to make themselves into a Veela…there would be people who would want to get their hands on that information. No matter how the information had been obtained."
Harry sighed. "Like the wizards at the World Cup fourth year."
"Right." Hermione was relieved that Harry understood.
"I suppose it's lucky that Malfoy's father wants a closed trial. I even recommended it to Robards."
Hermione restacked the journals. "If you leave these here, I can study them in closer detail."
Harry nodded. "I'll need the case files, but I can leave the books. Thank you for doing this."
Hermione gave him a tired smile. "Of course."
Now that they no longer had the distraction of work, an awkward and strangely charged silence settled over Hermione's living room. Harry shifted in his seat, staring at the table.
"Listen, Hermione, about Friday…"
"It's fine, Harry," Hermione rushed to say, blushing. Why couldn't he have just let it be?
Harry peeked up at her. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you."
"You didn't!" Hermione assured him. If anything, Malfoy is to blame. Stupid git and his silky voice.
Harry looked up at her more fully. "So you wanted to kiss me?"
Uh… "Um…"
"Because I wanted to kiss you. It wasn't the alcohol. You must know that I'm attracted to you. Have been for years."
And you choose now to tell me?! "Uh…" Come on, think of something to say!
"You haven't seen anyone in a while. Ginny keeps me up to date," he added with a half-smile.
"I…um, that is to say. Yes," she squeaked. "I wanted to kiss you too."
Hermione watched, mesmerized, as Harry's eyes heated. He didn't say anything for a moment.
"Good to know," he finally said, voice raspy.
Hermione stared at him and unconsciously licked her lip. Her hand flew over her mouth when she realized what she'd done. Harry stared at her for a moment longer before standing.
She knew he'd grown tall, but she hadn't realized just how tall until he towered over her. She gazed up at him. She'd noticed last night how muscled he was, and it was easy to see beneath the t-shirt he'd been wearing beneath his coat. She swallowed. She watched as Harry's hands clenched and then slowly unclenched.
"I'll see you later. Lunch, Tuesday?"
Hermione could only nod.
Harry slipped his coat on without breaking eye contact.
"Bye, Hermione."
"Bye," she replied, slightly breathless.
He grabbed a handful of Floo powder, called out for his flat, and then was gone.
It felt surreal to go into work on Monday morning. She felt, in some way, fundamentally changed. It was strange to walk down the hall to her office. No one else was in that early, which was normal. She felt as though the world had shifted on its axis and yet it kept spinning.
She managed to bury herself in her work, distracting herself from some very distracting thoughts. She was surprised when she heard a knock on her door a little after ten. She knew she didn't have a meeting until that afternoon, and Felicity would knock and then just come in.
"Come in," she called.
She nearly dropped her quill when Malfoy strolled through the door. Seeing him immediately brought back memories of Friday night and being pressed against him. Her mouth went dry. Did he get even more attractive?
"Malfoy! Um, come in, sit down." She gestured to the more comfortable of the two chairs in front of her desk. Once he'd sat down and a moment had passed without him saying anything, she asked, "What can I do for you?"
"Well, you did tell me to drop by if I needed help."
Hermione managed to hold a conversation with Malfoy without embarrassing herself or spontaneously combusting, both of which she'd expected when he'd first stepped into the office. It didn't help that they were discussing mates and mating laws. His wings were tucked away again, which didn't surprise her, and his suit was perfectly cut to highlight how fit he was, not that she'd needed a reminder. Sitting across from him, she'd been fiercely glad that Dunham hadn't had a chance to finish his ritual. The thought of Malfoy sent a wave a crushing despair and overwhelming rage through her. Only because I would hate for anyone to die that way. This has nothing to do with Malfoy in particular. I'm attracted to Harry! Wait, no I'm not! I'm happy single! I don't need anyone!
Finding out he had two mates was more than a little surprising, but knowing how powerful a wizard he was, it made a little sense. She felt almost…jealous at the thought of another witch touching him. We danced once! Why in Circe's name am I feeling this way?
When their fingers brushed as she handed him the book on Veela law, a shock that felt like lightning raced up her arm and then branched, going to heart and lower, to places that had absolutely no business responding to Malfoy.
"What was that?" she demanded, jerking her hand back.
Draco looked entirely unaffected, although a hint of a smirk hovered on his lips. "I've no idea what you mean." He stood up. "You've been very helpful, Granger. Thank you."
She stared at her fingertips but glanced up when she realized he hadn't left yet.
He stood halfway through the door. "And thank you for the dance on Friday." Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
Hermione's whole body flooded with heat at those words and she slumped in her chair. Fuck.
Please review!