Housekeeping first...thank you for all of your lovely reviews, follows and favourites. Apologies for any mistakes grammatical et al.
Sooooooooo...patience rewarded, two worlds FINALLY collide, even if it is just a little taster (for now)...
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what had happened to January, the first week of February also seemed to have vanished in a blur of lightning speed. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically, totally absorbed in her work and loving every single minute of it.
Her original intention had been to spend three weeks at Hogwarts, a further three, Merlin forbid at Azkaban Prison, finishing off what she termed her rotation with the final three spent at St Mungo's. However, having been at her former school for almost a month, just prior to Christmas, and spent time chatting to both staff and pupils alike, in what spare time she had, Hermione felt her time might be best spent elsewhere. She could return, officially on Ministry business later, at the moment, she couldn't see any further need to revisit. She had put all of this in her first, highly detailed report to Minster for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"I will be spending the next four weeks at St Mungo's, I want to ensure that I have given my time equally to both establishments, before I make any further recommendations."
Watching the Minister thumb through her neatly presented paperwork was worse than sitting her exams. He studied each page meticulously, Hermione couldn't help but wonder whether he understood it all, but she didn't want him thinking she was not giving everything her full attention.
"Hermione!" The minister smiled at the young witch, seated clearly somewhat nervously before him.
"This is of course nothing less than I expected, exceedingly thorough, and exceptionally well presented, even a layman like myself, can understand, well most of it."
His bright smile faded into a frown and Hermione's heart sank. There was something wrong, she wasn't doing what he expected. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind, she could hardly not be doing what he expected, when he himself had already told her he no idea what he expected, she reigned in her errant thoughts.
"I must applaud your diligence, Hermione, but I have to say I am a little concerned at you spending prolonged periods of time at Azkaban."
Hermione smiled once more, at what was clearly just concern for her well-being, wishing to allay his worries quickly. Admittedly it hadn't been a pleasant few weeks, even for Hermione, who had seen so much, and who was of course just visiting, walking through those dark, foreboding doors that first week had been very hard. Even with all the changes made under the current Minister's tenure it was a frightening, desolate place, but she felt it had been necessary and had found it very useful, she would need to return, and not in the too distant future and did not want the Minister for Magic putting up hurdles because he feared for her in any way.
"Minister." She caught the look of reproach in his face. "Kingsley."
The newly confirmed Minister for Magic, liked to be on first name terms with his staff, telling everyone at a recent meeting, the stuffy old ways had not proved very successful so he wanted to do things his way. Harry, Ron and Hermione had exchanged amused looks, wondering how on earth he was actually going to remember everyone's names; the three of them at least had the advantage of having known him for some time.
"Kingsley, honestly I am and will be fine. You know the security measures that are in place there, even without the Dementors, everything else is simply part of my job. It might not always be pleasant, but I have to deal with that, to be in a position to help."
The Minister offered her, a not entirely convinced smile, closing the report and glancing at the overly large clock on the wall.
Hermione got the distinct impression she was keeping him from something, so made to leave.
"Hermione, I hate to ask this." He said, stopping her mid-flight. "I know you've had a very long and tiring week, few weeks in fact, but do you have any plans for this evening?"
Hermione looked at the Minister in surprise, he was rubbing his eyes a little wearily, looking almost as tired as she felt, all she wanted to do was go home, soak in the bath and crawl into bed. But she had known Kingsley Shacklebolt long enough to know, he wouldn't be asking the question unless it was important.
"Only a date with some bubble bath and a glass of wine."
Kingsley Shacklebolt grinned, his white teeth gleaming, some of the fatigue draining from his face.
"Well I won't deprive you of either, and actually, I can guarantee a profusion of the latter." He rose from behind his desk, his colourful robes swishing at the movement as he came to perch on the front of the heavy wooden table.
"I have a Ministry social engagement this evening. You know the kind of thing, a bit of smoozing, some no doubt, interesting food and of course, plenty of alcohol to loosen the purse strings of some wealthy, well connected witches and wizards. I know I should have asked before, but I really would like it if you could come along."
Hermione honestly couldn't think of a worse way of spending her evening, fixing a polite smile and talking to a bunch of people she didn't know, she really did just want to slip into a hot bath, neck deep in sweetly perfumed bubbles, vying for scent supremacy with a plethora of candles, and just a very large glass of wine for company. It had been an incredibly draining, long and tiring week, well four weeks actually, as Kingsley had intimated, the thought of making small talk with a bunch of pompous, too rich for their own good witches and wizards …..
"Of course Kingsley, I would love come along." She heard a voice say. Merlin it was her own, but after the chance the Minister had given her, she really felt in no position to refuse.
"I promised not to ruin your evening entirely, so why don't you leave now, and have that well-deserved date with those bubbles."
Hermione rose from her chair, still flashing an overly bright smile at Kingsley Shacklebolt, but grateful at only 3.30pm to be heading home, at least for a while.
"The reception is at the Aurelia Imperial. it doesn't start until 8pm. dress robes or cocktail attire, whichever you prefer."
He walked Hermione to the door, thanking her profusely for accepting his rather belated invitation.
It took every ounce of willpower Hermione Granger possessed to drag herself out of her bath tub, with the aid of just a little magic, she had kept the water hot and the wine cold. The thick silky bubbles, had almost soothed away the mentally exhausting and somewhat grimy few weeks she had endured, she just wished, instead of trying to decide what exactly to wear, she could just slip on her comfy pyjamas and curl up on the sofa. Although after those same grimy few weeks, spent in the dark and insalubrious surroundings of Azkaban Prison, the thought of a swanky hotel and getting dressed up was actually rather appealing. Her wardrobe was not exactly vast, but she had a couple of suitable outfits. Swanky Wizard London hotel, lots of rich and powerful guests, there were only two realistic options, Hermione had ruled out her robes, if she had to go out tonight, she wanted to at least feel feminine. She slipped on her ridiculously high heels, and first held up, her stalwart little black dress and then her rather sexy red lace one. Switching back and forth a couple of times before finally making a decision.
The word contrast did not begin to describe the world Hermione had left behind her this week, to the one she now stepped, or quite possibly tottered into this evening, being a tad out of practice with her high heels.
The Aurelia Imperial was one of the most exclusive wizarding hotels in the world, justifiably so thought the young witch, as her spikey heels clattered across the black and white marble foyer. Candles in varying degrees and shades of red adorned every surface and drifted high up into the stunning atrium. She was directed to the Xanadu suite by a livered employee, where upon arrival, another offered her sparkling red champagne; everything thus far was red, black and white, the champagne was clearly no exception. Hermione couldn't contain a smile, thinking how apt her choice of dress had finally been. She gratefully took one of the tall flutes, savouring a cool mouthful of the refreshing sparkling wine. Glancing around the room for Kingsley Shacklebolt or at least one other person she knew, her big brown eyes fell upon a familiar face, or to be more accurate back of someone's head, but the blonde, almost white hair was as distinguishable as the face to whom she knew it belonged, Draco Malfoy.
The smile on Hermione's dark red lips broadened yet further as she recalled, the somewhat tipsy revelation from Ginny Weasley, just before Christmas.
"He looked kinda hot."
Hermione was still unconvinced at the use of the word hot, in the same sentence as Draco Malfoy's name, and this was still resonating in her ears as her amused brown stare met with a piercing and clearly unamused blue one. Hermione's smiled faded and she put the glass once more to her lips, quickly gulping down a much larger mouthful, as the owner of the cold, blue eyes moved across the crowded room and ever closer.
She hadn't known who was going to be here, but in all honesty hadn't expected her former nemesis to be amongst the invited guests. Her old hackles began to rise as the tall, slender blonde weaved his way across the floor. That was the past, she worked for the Ministry of Magic now, she had an office to uphold and could not be seen to be showing any animosity or harbouring any grudges, to a, what was Kingsley Shacklebolt's phraseology… "Wealthy and well connected wizard." Although Hermione wasn't entirely sure just how well that description still applied to the once all powerful Malfoy family.
Hermione moistened her suddenly rather dry lips and fixed a bright smile to them, all the while chewing nervously on the inside of the bottom one. She noticed Draco, grab two glasses of the red champagne from a floating tray. He was either drinking rather heavily, she mused or had hopefully spotted someone else he knew and was chivalrously taking a drink to them. Contemplating the point, whilst trying to surreptitiously watch Draco, she once more, nervously raised her own glass. To her horror, she realised it was now devoid of anything.
"Looks like I arrived just in time."
Draco Malfoy proffered one hand. With a flick of the wand which suddenly appeared in the other, he muttered evanesco and Hermione's original glass vanished.
Somewhat surprised at both his humour and his thought, let alone his presence, she reminded herself once more that this was work, and graciously accepted the full crystal flute.
"Thank you Draco."
He nodded briefly at her words, a very faint smile lifting his thin lips. For a moment there was an awkward silence, before the young Malfoy spoke once more.
"I heard that you were working at the Ministry, but I didn't expect to see you here tonight."
Hermione felt a little prickle of annoyance at his words, and why wouldn't she be here? But she could see in Draco's face, and from working so closely with people, that there was no malice intended in his words, and uttered by anyone else she probably would have taken little, or no notice. Oddly Draco also looked as if he were perhaps a little out of his own depth, and had headed to her, ironically as a friendly face, or at least maybe the only one in the room he too recognised. In the spirit of glasnost, she kept her response equally as light and pleasant.
"I am; I've only been there a few weeks but…"
"There you are Draco."
The room suddenly felt devoid of air, Hermione's fingers tightened involuntarily around the thin delicate stem of her glass. She saw Draco's eyes shift a little uncomfortably to the sound of the voice behind her. Like the easily identifiable, back of Draco Malfoy's head, the clipped aristocratic tones of his father were just as instantly recognisable and infinitely more unnerving.
The formidable dark wizard moved amidst a rustle of expensive fabric, to stand alongside his son. His presence in a room was just as overpowering as it had always been, that arrogant tilt of his head coupled with absolute assurance and bearing. His height and breadth where emphasised by flawless elegance and exquisite tailoring, the darkness of his robes making his trademark mane of blonde hair seem even paler than ever. Hermione finding even without uttering another word, he had her undivided attention, his cold grey eyes fell upon her. As with his son, Hermione reminded herself, this was Ministry business, politeness and professionalism, at all times.
The somewhat surprised looked which flittered across the handsome face of Lucius Malfoy, chipped resolutely away at that. Handsome face? Hermione silently chided herself; the man may very well be Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater and confident of the Dark Lord, but Hermione had to admit, Draco's father's was a strikingly handsome man. She made a mental note not to tell Ginny.
