Chapter Eleven: That's Magic
When engaged in the social interaction known as "flirting", it is typical for the witty banter to be coy, enticing, and have absolutely no deeper meaning at all. However, the odds are that at least one of the parties involved will read things into the conversation, or take it more seriously than the other person intended.
Or, it is possible that the person who initially engaged in this pre-romantic act could take himself far too seriously, and fret about everything he said after she has gone.
…
Not that this applied to Draco. Oh, no! Draco is obviously the epitome of a calm and collected person. Perfectly balanced, completely in tune with his inner self, never worrying about anything, no problems….
…
Oh, he wished.
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Life goes on, however. In the midst of all of Draco's worrying (it was a miracle that he didn't get an ulcer from all the worrying he did) there was his job, and his mother, and a couple Weasley dinners. (and no, they did not get any more comfortable for Draco as time went on. Well, maybe a smidgeon.).
…
It was rare for Healers to have to leave St. Mungo's during business hours. When they did, however, St. Mungo's inevitably sent the best and brightest to deal with cases.
Draco was surprised to discover that he was considered valuable by upper management, but accepted the emergency call with dignity and apparated with haste.
Merlin, what had George gotten himself into this time?
…
When Draco arrived, he quickly went to the back room to seek out his redheaded… friend. What met his eyes was a woman lying on the floor, turning a strange shade of chartreuse, being watched over by a panicked George.
"What's happened?" Draco said briskly, slipping into a professional mode.
George looked up at him in relief, and Draco was pleasantly surprised to realize that he was needed, and liked, instead of shunned.
…
It turned out that Verity had opened a crate of their latest shipment of potion ingredients, only to inhale a very concentrated dose of something that was decidedly not the benign porcupine quills that they'd expected.
Draco quickly expelled any traces of the suspiciously dark powder from Verity's body, called for someone to pick her up, and examined the powder. It was reminiscent of something he'd seen his father use, and he decided that it needed to be brought to the Auror Department.
Merlin's pants, Draco Malfoy was about to become a fine, upstanding citizen.
…
Halfway through the bureaucratic processes of the Ministry, Draco was rapidly losing patience with this "upstanding citizen" thing.
He was aware that Ministry processing had much improved since the Golden Trio and Kingsley had joined its upper echelons. He was also aware that he was a Malfoy still, and since he kept to the Manor and St. Mungo's, most of the Ministry had no reason to trust him.
Patience, he coached himself firmly. Patience.
…
Salazar, if one more official asked him "if he had any sanctioned business with the Ministry", he was going to explode.
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"Mister Malfoy?"
"Yes."
"And what is your business with the Ministry?"
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"What rank did you say you were? I'm afraid my business is not with the Department of Games and Sports, let alone a peon."
Well, at least he knew that he was still in possession of the Malfoy Hauteur.
…
"Malfoy?"
He was in the fifth waiting room since he'd got there, and he was fairly sure that the mirror was actually a one-way window. He felt like a criminal.
"Potter," he nodded.
"What are you doing here?"
"Apparently, taking a tour of the Ministry's hospitality, when I really need to speak to someone about an incident at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."
Potter's expression cleared. "This is ridiculous. Come with me and we'll discuss it."
Draco never thought he'd say this, but Thank Merlin for Potter.
…
Well, you'd never catch him saying it aloud.
…
Despite the fact that Potter was his age- a whopping eighteen years old- he had already risen to prominence in the Ministry.
Draco was mildly relieved to see that Potter was fairly disgusted with most of the Ministry as well. Once they were seated in Potter's office, he cut right to the chase. It was calming to note that while Potter didn't treat him as a buddy, he treated him as an equal.
"So what's this about George's shop?"
…
After Draco had explained the recent events, he cut to the chase.
"I think I have seen this powder before. My father used it, and it has dark properties."
Harry's brow creased. "And it appeared in George's shop in a shipment?"
He leaned back in his chair, and studied Draco's face. "Is there any way you could demonstrate what this powder does?"
Draco nodded.
"Excellent. Not right now, but I can make an appointment with you for your earliest convenience. Let me know of any tools you need, and hopefully we can figure out where this came from and why."
Potter started to write things down in a messy, individualistic scrawl.
"By the way, Malfoy, thank you."
…
Draco stood to leave, and Potter stood with him.
"Wait, Malfoy." he motioned for the door to close. "How are you doing?"
Draco knew what this was about. He shrugged, not looking Potter in the eyes.
"I haven't talked to anyone about it. I figure that people are better off not knowing."
Potter nodded, and came around the desk. He clasped Draco's shoulder, and Draco braced himself for an emotional, sensitive comment.
"Want to come to the Harpies game with me and Hermione? Ginny's playing, and I've got an extra ticket."
Surprised, Draco accepted.
…
On his way out of the Ministry, he was preoccupied by the unique experience of being treated as an equal. So preoccupied, in fact, that he didn't notice a specific bushy-haired brunette studying him as he crossed the marbled floor to the exit.
It was probably for the best. If he'd seen her blatantly checking him out, he might have thought that there was something going on.
Draco, however, remained blissfully unaware as he exited into the sun.
…
Yes, it is interesting to observe how a couple lines of a flirted conversation- how one-liners, even- can serve to change the perspectives of the individuals involved. Hermione's brown eyes twinkled as she followed Draco's stride out of the Ministry. Something was changing, and it was showing through even in his walk.
She patted herself on the back. He wasn't walking like a victim any more. Rather, like a person in charge of his own fate.
Score one for the Gryffindors.
…
A/N:
I am an awful updater. I beg forgiveness from you all, because it appears that I lied. I didn't get to update before I left for the Land of No Internet, but now that I have returned, I will follow this one with an update quickly. The Quidditch match shall be fun to write, anyhow.
To my faithful and very very very patient reviewers:
Fulgance: While there isn't as much Dramione in this chapter, there will be lots of it in the next one. That is a promise. Sexy Draco just might make reappearance, too. ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter too (albeit its lateness) and thank you again so much for continuing to review!
KodeV: Thank you! I live to amuse, haha. And while vulnerable Draco is interesting to write, confident Draco is just plain fun. (This is Draco. This is Draco on Coffee.) Thank you again!
IantosStopwatch: I definitely agree! Draco's being a Healer is probably the best thing for him. And I am glad that you are enjoying the story thus far. Thanks!
Mother Midnight: And thanks to you as well. I am doing my best to keep it engaging, even with my sporadic updating.
I shall return with another chapter!
-Isefyr