Yes, yes. It has been too long. The words you're looking for are "FINALLY! God..." I apologize and I submit to you a very long chapter to make up for it. Let me know what you think. A lot going on in this one.
Dear Narcissa,
I beg your forgiveness for the way I behaved at dinner last night. I can be very passionate about my projects and I know that Draco can be very passionate as well. I very much enjoy your company and I truly appreciate the invitation into your home and to your dinner table.
If there is anything I can do to apologize, please let me know.
Sincerely,
Hermione J. Granger
Dearest Hermione,
You are so kind to think you need to apologize. The truth is, I quite enjoyed myself last night. I don't get to Muggle London for theatre as often as I used to, so last night was just what I needed.
I am sure to be visiting Cornerstone next weekend, so I shall see you then. Perhaps we can have a quick lunch on your break?
And I have sent with this note a small package, as I believe you did not get to taste it last night.
Yours,
Narcissa Malfoy
Hermione opened the small brown package and found a container of the pumpkin soup. When she brought it to her lips she almost cried.
Monday morning she was met at her cubicle with a memo from the Auror Office. She winced as she opened it, hoping not to be dealing with Draco this early in the week, but it was from the head of the Auror Office requesting a collaborative meeting between her department and theirs regarding the dragon egg found the week before.
Clunky footsteps, and then Aiden was poking his head over her cubicle wall.
"You get invited to the party, too?" He flashed her a grin and waived a matching memo at her.
Less than an hour later she and Aiden were sharing a lift up to Level 2 with the scent of the orange Aiden was peeling and devouring. She declined when he offered her a wedge, and tried to ignore the smell like she was currently ignoring his yammering about how much nicer the Level 2 desks and cubes were from theirs.
They found their way to the conference room with a minute to spare and the first pair of eyes she met upon entering were Draco's. It was to be expected, as he was the analyst on the dragon egg case, but still surprising first thing in the morning. She quickly looked elsewhere and found Aiden pulling a chair for her next to an older witch who was there to take a transcript.
"Let's get started." Gawain Robards, head of the Auror Department, stood and tapped his wand on the table. A three-dimensional image of a dragon egg appeared in the middle of the table, and Hermione immediately thought of those science fiction holograms. "As you all know, this dragon egg was apprehended in London last week, and with the help of Miss Granger," he nodded at her, "it was identified as a Portuguese Long-Snout egg. Now, smuggling dragon eggs is not uncommon, but it was Mr. Malfoy who pieced together that the Long-Snout egg was found within a three-block radius of where the Hungarian Horntail egg was found a month ago."
Hermione looked at Draco, and found him suppressing the smirk he would wear in Snape's class every time the professor would praise his potion-making. Well, at least he was suppressing it. Draco stood.
"We believe these dragon dealers are selling to the same buyer, although unsuccessfully thus far," Draco said.
He took a stack of papers that were arranged in front of him and began passing them out. When Hermione received hers, she found that it was a full seventeen-page report. Hermione looked up at him, and watched as he summarized the report, pointed to the important charts and maps, maintained control of the room, and for the first time she wondered what it was he planned to do after his probation completed in December. Because he was quite good at this.
Hermione raised her hand. Draco blinked at her.
"Yes, Miss Granger," Draco articulated.
"The dragon dealer who was apprehended last week. What does he have to say?"
Robards cleared his throat. "He has been questioned, and found to know nothing about the buyer. He was just the transportation it seems."
"And what country was the Portuguese Long-Snout egg smuggled in from?" Hermione asked Robards.
"Portugal," Draco said drily. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
"Are we sure?" she said.
Robards pushed his glasses up and leaned forward. "What is it you're getting at, Miss Granger?"
"There was a case of a newly laid Portuguese Long-Snout egg being smuggled into Switzerland last year with the intention of hatching it during the coldest point of winter. Long-Snouts are typically hatched only in the Portuguese heat, so the dragon dealers and buyers were clearly experimenting with something."
Robards nodded at her. "I will look into that for you."
"Thank you."
Draco looked back and forth between the two of them, waiting for the go ahead to continue. She raised a brow at him.
"As I was saying, we're hoping the Bureau can help us determine what the buyer might want with two very different types of dragon eggs –"
She raised her hand again. This time knowing that he hated it.
"Granger."
"What causes you to believe there might be similarities? Can't the buyer just be wanting to farm himself a whole variety of dragons?"
Draco took a cleansing breath. "That is a possibility, but we would like to rule out others."
"Why would he want a Long-Snout though?" Aiden asked, twirling his quill in a distracted way. "That's like, the least impressive dragon. There's no uses for any of its skin in fashion, and the horns have no magical properties. I mean, if I were to start a dragon collection, I'd go for the best."
Hermione gasped, thoughts buzzing in her brain. The room looked at her.
"The only interesting quality about the Portuguese Long-Snout is that it is easiest to cross-breed with a Common Welsh Green," she said. She looked to Aiden for confirmation. "The Long-Snout and—"
"The Hungarian Horntail," Aiden finished for her, smiling.
Hermione turned back to Draco, as he was still standing at the front of the room.
"And a Common Welsh Green egg went 'missing' from the Wales reserve two months ago, appearing in Knockturn Alley shortly after," she said. "It was sighted, but not recovered."
"So, Miss Granger," Robards nodded to the transcribing witch, "your analysis would be that whoever was trying to procure the Horntail and Long-Snout already has the Common Welsh egg, and is hoping to cross-breed?"
"Yes, sir."
Draco's lips quirked and he swallowed. "Ten points to Gryffindor."
Aiden chuckled in a dim sort of way, and Hermione sent Draco a glare.
"Well, that's that!" Robards stood from the table. "We'll be in touch on this, exchanging memos and the like, but I'd say that's the fastest mystery ever solved here. I'll get the team researching the Welsh Green disappearance and get it tracked. Miss Granger please send me all your notes on the Welsh Green." She nodded. Robards gestured back and forth between Hermione and Draco. "You two should work together more often. You'd save the rest of us a world of trouble."
Hermione released a shaky laugh and Draco frowned at Robards. She looked down at the desk as she stood and gathered her paperwork, intending to read through Draco's work later. Robards strolled out with a thank you to all, and Aiden began chatting with Draco, much to Hermione's delight. She snuck out before she could have more of an interaction with either of them.
That following Saturday was a slow day at Cornerstone, and Hermione found herself daydreaming more often than usual. She had fifteen minutes until Morty came downstairs to take over the desk for her lunch break, and she found the need to step out for some cool air.
There was a book in the reserved requests under Black, and Hermione remembered Narcissa's note from last weekend, mentioning that she may stop by and possibly invite her to lunch. As it was now lunch time, and she had not yet seen Narcissa, she supposed she should get used to the idea of the crackers she brought as a back-up plan.
She had spent the morning pretending not to read the day's Prophet, which featured a picture of Draco and the blonde girl he'd been out with before. They had gone out again last night apparently. She kept arranging books on top of the article so customers wouldn't catch her re-reading it, but she always kept a gap over the image of Draco's profile, smiling at the girl over drinks in Hogsmeade. The ledger rested permanently over the girl's face though.
As a large woman wearing far too much purple bid her a good day, she went back to her doodlings, wondering what she would do to entertain herself this evening. Ginny was out of town with her team but would be home very late in the night. Halloween was in two weeks, and she knew it would be tremendously busy, so this weekend she planned to enjoy the quiet. Perhaps she would clean?
Hermione frowned at her quill, hovering over the picture of Draco, and resolved to acquire a more active social life just as the front door opened. Perhaps Ron was right. She didn't need to work on the weekends if it was keeping her from leading a normal life, going out of town and the like.
She lifted her eyes from Prophet-Draco smiling at his date, chirping a "Good afternoon," to see the real Draco at her counter, not smiling. She blinked.
"What." She stood up straight.
"'What?'" he repeated. "Is that how you greet customers here?" He lifted a brow at her, and her hands tried to move the books around on the desk to cover the article without drawing attention.
She took a deep breath and tried a bit nicer. "Are you here for the reserved book?"
She watched as he opened his mouth, as if to speak, and then simply nodded once. Her brows knitted together, but she did not comment. Hermione grabbed up the bag labeled "Black," and began entering a line in the ledger, which she left right where it was on top of the blonde dolt's face.
The book, Hermione realized, was considered to be quite "girly" – a fiction by a female writer with a female lead character. She looked up, about to tease him, and found him watching her.
"Have your tastes changed, Draco?" The corner of her mouth pulled up into a smirk. He blinked at her. She shook the book at him.
"Oh, it's... not for me."
"Oh, alright." She felt like she should tease him about his "gift," but he was standing so stiffly and there was something off about him. She plucked a bag from the shelf, placed the book inside and held it out to him. He stared at it.
"Does Cornerstone do gift wrapping?"
"Do we… uh, yes, we do." She took the bag back and began to clear the counter as he watched her. Her face began to warm and she didn't know why.
She cleared a space on the counter, pushing a few books aside, and turned to grab the wrapping paper. When she turned back she realized that the Daily Prophet was spread out on the desk, visible now that she had removed the books. She held her breath. She didn't dare look up at him, but just closed the paper, and tucked it away. It was completely natural to read the paper during the day, and perhaps that was the article she landed on when the last customer came in. Perfectly explainable. She laid the wrapping paper out and placed the book on top, only now realizing that this could indeed be a gift – for the blonde.
"My mother and I are stopping for a quick lunch at Fortescue's."
"Oh. Tell her I say hello?" Her hands straightened the paper beneath the book and grabbed up the scissors from the cup next to the register. So Narcissa had chosen lunch with her son over lunch with her? Fine. Of course, Hermione realized that this was not the most rational of grumbling –
"Does Mr. Hindes come downstairs to cover your lunch?"
She looked to the clock as she folded the wrapping paper around the book. "Yes, usually around one." Her fingers struggled with the tape and she glanced up to find him watching her hands work. She looked down quickly and finished taping one side then folding the other.
"Would you like to join us for lunch?"
Her hands slipped on the paper, losing the fold, and her eyes snapped to his. He was wearing his neutral expression again, but as she searched his face for the joke, he swallowed.
"Your mother wants a repeat performance of last Saturday? In public?" She smiled and refolded the side, taping it with trembling fingers and turned to grab the ribbon.
"If there's pumpkin soup, I promise to let you eat it."
She grinned at the ribbon and began twisting it around the package. "Tell your mother that I appreciate the invitation, but I'm too busy here today. It was nice of her to offer."
"I'm the one offering, Granger."
She looked up at him and his eyes narrowed at her.
"We both know who sent you, Malfoy." She tugged the ribbon closed, placed the wrapped gift into the small bag, and held the bag out to him. He took it from her and opened his mouth to speak. Just then, the door hiding the staircase to Morty's upstairs flat opened. Morty exited, adjusting his glasses.
"Miss Granger," he said. "Good business today?"
"Yes, absolutely -"
"Mr. Malfoy," Morty smiled. "Such a pleasure to see you here." Morty's eyes brightened and Hermione frowned.
"Mr. Hindes, how are you?" Draco grinned and shook Morty's hand.
"Look how tall you've gotten! My! Was he always this tall, Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked between the two of them. "Uh, no. He was shorter... before..." She picked up the quill and began copying notes into the ledger.
"Did you get everything you need today, Draco?" Morty said.
"Yes, thank you. I was just here to see if Miss Granger would accompany me for lunch today. My mother is just down the street."
Her ink blotted and she ground her teeth together.
"Oh, lovely! Yes, please do. I've got the shop." Morty started pushing her out from behind the counter.
"Well, I - I have so much to do here, I don't think-"
"Nonsense. Take all the time you need."
Hermione found her bag shoved into her chest, her quill ripped from her hand, and her body forced away from the counter as Morty asked Draco to say hello to Narcissa for him and to take care of himself. Hermione got her bearings and pulled her bag strap up to her shoulder. Draco bid Morty a good day and Hermione stalked behind him as he exited the shop, holding the door for her.
She walked through and suddenly the chatter and noise disappeared and she was on a quiet street corner with Draco Malfoy with nothing to talk about. He let the door shut behind him and turned to her, lifting a brow.
"Well, congratulations, Malfoy," she said, shifting her bag on her shoulder. "You have a lunch companion."
"Oh, I'm just so glad Morty could cover your lunch," he said, turning down the street toward Fortescue's. He turned over his shoulder. "You looked swamped in there."
She glared at him and followed. The Cornerstone Books bag swung from his fingers in a jaunty way and Hermione skipped to catch up with him. They paused as a group of shoppers crossed them at the next corner, and when it was clear to go, she felt his hand come up to her back, guiding her softly. Her body must have twitched because he looked down at her and she watched her feet as they carried her across the cobblestones.
They arrived at the corner across from Florean Fortescue's moments later, and Hermione looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy sitting on the patio, dressed in decadent blue robes with a matching oversized blue hat that reminded Hermione very much of the grand Muggle movie stars. Hermione felt severely under-dressed. Draco sighed next to her. She looked up at him, and she could tell he was biting back a comment.
"Your mother certainly knows how to make a statement," she said as they approached the gate to the patio.
He held it open for her, and as she passed him he muttered, "You have no idea." His voice brushed across her ear and she smiled and shivered.
Narcissa stood from the table. "Hermione! Oh, I'm so glad you were able to join us." She couldn't help but notice that the table was already set for three.
"Yes, thank you," Hermione said, as Narcissa clasped her hand and pulled her in for a light embrace. "Your son can be very persuasive."
Narcissa smiled at Draco, and gestured for Hermione to take the seat across from her. Draco pulled her chair for her, which was starting to become a habit, and then nodded at his mother and headed inside to order.
It was a beautiful fall afternoon, and Narcissa looked stunning in the sunlight peeking through the patio roof. They made small talk for a minute or so before Draco returned with three cups and saucers.
"Oh, thank you, Draco," Narcissa said. "I do hope you brought over enough honey for the two of you."
Hermione's pulse spiked. Narcissa was just about to tell Draco about the "coincidence" that they took their tea the same way, and Draco was going to see right through it. Hermione held her breath as Narcissa's lips split into a grin.
"Do you happen to know how Hermione takes her tea?"
"Granger drinks coffee."
Hermione's eyes snapped to his as he set down a cup of coffee in front of her. She stared at it.
"So unless she puts honey in her coffee…"
"Oh," Narcissa said, turning her eyes on her. "I didn't know you preferred coffee to tea."
"I – yes, I do drink coffee more often." She turned to Draco. "Thank you."
"The next time you're at the Manor I will have some brewed for you," Narcissa said.
"That's very kind of you." Hermione poured the milk into her cup.
Narcissa carried on a conversation with her for the next twenty minutes or so, discussing everything from the new ownership of Fortescue's to the McHandry fiction she'd finished. Draco sat silently with them, fixing his tea with three spoons of honey and milk, and picking at the scones that the waiter delivered. Hermione could feel him at her right side where he sat between the two women, but kept from looking at him unless Narcissa dragged him into the conversation. She could feel him watching her.
"Hermione, dear, I'd love to meet your parents the next time they are in England," Narcissa said, and Hermione almost choked on her scone. She quickly sipped her coffee before she coughed. She glanced up to see if either of them noticed, and saw that Draco was frowning at his mother. Narcissa continued, "Will they be coming here for the holidays or will you be heading to Australia to visit them?"
Narcissa was spreading jam onto her scone, smiling at her. Hermione looked at the table.
"Neither, unfortunately. The holiday season is a very busy time… for dentists. Umm…" She trailed off, and could feel two pairs of pale eyes on her.
"Oh, that's very interesting," Narcissa jumped in. "What a shame though. And when do they plan to visit you next?"
"I… Well, they…"
Hermione felt like she should lie and say "springtime." The odds of Narcissa Malfoy actually wanting to visit with them, or following up in the spring, or asking to write them letters… or continue speaking of this at all…were extremely high, she realized. She put down her butter knife that she had begun playing with. She looked up and Draco was watching her very carefully. She turned to Narcissa and found her searching her face, and knew then that she had hesitated too long. She took a breath and looked at her coffee cup.
"Actually, never." She smiled sadly and trained her eyes on Narcissa. "We had to erase their memories two years ago, before… everything began." Narcissa pursed her lips. "They live in Australia together, with no memory of me." She swallowed and looked down at her hands. "I've created a 'pen-pal' relationship with my mother though, so I get to hear about what they're doing and how they're getting on," she rambled. Hermione painted on a fake smile and looked up to find Draco clenching his jaw, frowning at her.
She pulled her eyes away from him when Narcissa's hand grasped hers.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Narcissa's blue eyes were swimming as they looked into Hermione's, and she had never felt such honest compassion coming from her. She was apologizing for so much. "You're very strong. And I admire that so."
Hermione nodded so her voice wouldn't break. She took a breath. "Well, I would love to talk about something else." She gave a shaky laugh. "I didn't mean for the mood to change so dramatically."
She chanced a glance at Draco, and found him glaring at the table, jaw tight.
"It was very insightful of the Order," he looked up at her, "to take that precaution." The way his voice rolled over "the Order," she knew that he understood exactly what happened.
"Yes," she said, staring directly into his clever eyes. "I can't thank them enough."
Narcissa fiddled with her teacup and milk, watching them.
Twenty minutes of light conversation later and it was time for Hermione to return to Cornerstone. Narcissa suggested Draco walk her back, of course, and she found herself retracing their path back to the bookshop.
"Do you think you'll stay on with the Auror Office?" she asked. "Your term is up in six weeks or so, yes?" A chill wind brushed across the alley, and she had to push her hair away from her face as it whipped around her head.
"Yes, December 10th." He tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "I'll be starting something new, actually. Take a few weeks for the holidays, then jump into the new year. New millennium."
"Right," she said, and couldn't decide if she was glad or disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing him around the Ministry past December 10th. "What is it you plan do?"
They paused at a corner and he took a breath. "I'm opening my own company." He cleared his throat and she looked up at him. "A kind of consulting group. I'm announcing on November 1st."
His sentences were clipped and his eyes darted around the street looking at anything but her, but Hermione had her interest piqued.
"A consulting group? And what will you specialize in?"
He paused before answering, then took a breath. "Litigation and contracts, finances, management and operations, and I'm hoping to have a few other minor branches with select specialists."
Hermione stared up at him. She hardly knew what half of that meant. She laughed.
"What?" he said, looking down at her with untrusting eyes.
"You're just... opening a company," she said. A laughed bubbled up. "At nineteen." She smiled at him shaking her head.
"You and your friends defeated a dark wizard at eighteen." He lifted a brow at her, challenging.
"Actually, Harry was seventeen."
"Thanks for reminding me."
She smiled at the ground, watching her feet as they walked. "So, if I'm understanding this correctly, you'll be providing legal counsel for Wizengamot hearings, advising businesses on their budgets and operations, things like that?"
"Essentially." Very non-committal.
"And you think individuals and businesses will hire you based on your nineteen years of experience in those fields?" She knew teasing him lightly like this would probably provoke him, but while he was being so cagey…
"No." He shook his head. "They will hire my firm based on the personnel I will surround myself with. Specialists and the like. I'm in talks with Cuthbert Mockridge to bring him out of retirement to take over the finances department—"
Hermione looked up at him. Cuthbert Mockridge had been the head of the Goblin Liaison Office before retiring. His brow was drawn together as he continued.
"—And I've begun a relationship with Tiberius Ogden, and plan to ask him to specialize in Wizengamot services—"
Hermione remembered the name from the papers. He had been an elder in the Wizengamot, resigning when Umbridge arrived. He and his son were also heir to the Ogden's Old Firewhiskey fortune. She watched him as he listed off several others and explained their capabilities. His cheekbones were pink and he kept his gaze on the ground, on the shops, on the sky, anywhere but her, but he was speaking fast, ready for a fight. He took a breath to explain another personnel decision he'd made and she stopped him.
"That's very exciting, Draco," she said. He looked down at her. "You don't need to defend your company to me. I think it will be a great success. You were excellent at leading the meeting on the dragon egg this week – prepared, succinct, authoritative. It's like you were born for it."
She smiled warmly. His jaw tightened and the wind blew a lock of hair across his forehead. She looked away to keep from pushing it back into place and saw that they had arrived back at Cornerstone. She had a thought.
"You've been planning this for a while, it seems," she said, noting his silence. "Are you investing your inheritance into this new business?"
He paused. "That's the plan."
"Investment and passion are two key ingredients for success." He looked down at her again and the wind blew her hair across her face this time. She pushed it back. "And your father must be in support if he released your inheritance to you?"
His eye twitched as he looked away from her, something she'd never seen. He didn't like her bringing up Lucius.
"Yes, a small amount at first. Then the rest on January 1st. Contingent on a few things." He scratched at his jaw and shifted his weight. She'd never seen him so uncomfortable. She tried to lighten the moment.
"Well," she said, turning to step up to the door, "what a pity for all those half-blood and Muggle-born girls that thought you would invest all that money in their happy future with you." She turned and found him studying her. "How disappointing for them." She gave him a sarcastic smile.
"I thought you of all people knew not to believe a word of what Skeeter prints." He smirked at her. She stood on the doorstep of Cornerstone and was struck by the image of a boy walking a girl to her door at the end of a date, waiting for a kiss. Her heart ached. She shook herself.
"I think we did a fine job today, Malfoy." She hugged herself against the wind. "A full hour lunch date with your mother and no casualties. I'd say that's progress." She grinned and watched his eyes flash at her. She nodded at him in goodbye.
"Granger." She turned with her hand on the doorknob. "About your parents…"
Her throat clicked as she took a breath. "Yes?"
"You did the right thing." His eyes were pale and they bored into her. She was breathless.
"Thank you."
"Have you… been by your home since the war ended?"
"No, not since I left."
He nodded at her.
"Don't."