It didn't take long for Hermione to "settle in" in her office and by mid-afternoon she was already in the thick if everything going on in the department. Newt (which she was suddenly completely comfortable calling him) had escorted her up and down the entire level, introducing her to everyone and briefing Hermione on all the ins and outs of her new job.
She felt so…useful here. Like she could really make a difference. In truth, Hermione hadn't felt useful in a long time, not since she had helped Harry as he strove to defeat Voldemort. She had always felt needed when they were all working together; she knew they needed her cleverness and books and talent, and that without her they wouldn't have gotten very far.
But after the war, well. Harry had gone on to prepare to pass for an Auror, and Ron had gone as well, more out of following Harry than anything else. But the point was, they did something, whereas Hermione simply faded into the shadows, tired of battle and always having to use her brains under pressure. She had taken her nice, safe job as a glorified secretary and been perfectly content, thank you very much. She had been in the same department as Harry and Ron and saw them often, she was immersed in her (admittedly tedious) day-to-day work, and she gloried in the slower pace of a desk job.
Her friends knew she wasn't exactly happy, but said to themselves that she seemed to believe she was, and left it at that. No use arguing with Hermione.
But this. This was a whole new world to her. A place where she could use her brain for more than just remembering the alphabet in order to file something away, a place where she could remember why they had once called her the brightest witch of her age.
She settled back into her desk chair and sighed happily. She had just returned from a late lunch with Harry and Ron, where she had gushed shamelessly over all the aspects of her new position. They were genuinely glad for her.
"There's our girl!" Harry had said, clapping her on the shoulder. "This is exactly what we've always thought you should be doing, Hermione. There never was a job more suited to you." Hermione had blushed. Ron hugged her tightly.
"So proud of you," he murmured into her hair.
"What will you do first?" Harry asked with a glint in his eye. "Start up SPEW again?"
Hermione hit him. "It's S.P.E.W.! And anyway, I can do so much more for house-elves, and every other human-like creature that's out there, from where I'm sitting!"
"Looks like the best thing you can do from where you're sitting is eat your lunch," Ron said good-naturedly, gesturing at the plate in front of her, which she had barely touched in twenty minutes. She laughed and took a large bite of sandwich, chewing in an over-exaggerated way. Ron and Harry laughed, too. When her mouth was clear again, she continued.
"Really, though, I can write up bills and send them to the Wizengamot to be converted into law, did you know that? So I was thinking of working on one to outlaw the inhumane treatment of house-elves, just for a start." Harry and Ron exchanged a half-worried glance. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try to free them or anything," she said, rolling her eyes. "Yet," she added mischievously. It was Ron and Harry's turn to roll their eyes.
"Watch it!" she said when Ron made a "crazy" motion around his left ear. "If you're not careful I'll write up a bill to force all ginger-haired boys to wear big flowery aprons whenever they walk down Diagon Alley!" Harry doubled over laughing, clutching his sides, and Hermione shot him a glance, too. "I can have it extended to people with lightning-bolt scars, too," she added.
They all dissolved into laughter and the rest of their lunch was an extremely pleasant affair. The boys spent the rest of it alternating between poking fun of Hermione and giving her bits of advice and ideas on what kinds of reforms she should try to pass. She had gone back to work feeling decidedly cheerful and ready to spring into action again, confident she could take on the entire Ministry and all the corruptness therein. She would come out victorious, stamping down injustice and creating equal rights for all magical creatures. Goblins would co-exist happily with humans, house-elves would be freed and then paid for their work, and centaurs would be granted full access to the wizarding community. She would make their world a better place.
She paused in her building of castles in the air and looked down at the blank parchment on her desk. There was always something exciting about a blank piece of parchment. It was positively teeming with possibilities. She settled in to write.
Ten minutes, or possibly an hour passed, and there was a knock on Hermione's office door. She looked up from the bill she was writing. It was, as promised, a bill on the humane treatment of house-elves. She was quite satisfied with the progress she was making on it. "Come in!" she called. When she saw the glint of white-blonde hair, she stood up and a large smile spread across her face. She knew it was Draco's mother who'd secured this job for her, but knew he had probably had a hand in it as well, and she wanted him to know she was grateful. She was just about to tell him as much when she noticed his expression and demeanor and recognized he was in a foul mood.
"Can't take you anywhere, can I?" he said nastily as he entered the room. Hermione's smile faded and she noticed the paper in his hands. What is it this time? she wondered.
"What's got your knickers in a twist this morning, Draco?" He surveyed her with a look of disgust and held out the paper. "Did the big bad newspaper say something to upset you?" she added playfully.
"Haven't read it, have you? Typical. Front page. It's all about how you showed your Muggle upbringing at the Manor. Uncouth, uncultured, and uncoordinated, I believe it goes. Don't know how you managed it, but somehow you've become an embarrassment and a liability overnight."
He threw the paper on her desk, and she glanced down at it. He was right. The article was everything he'd said it was. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she forced them back.
"Always thought you did a good enough job of embarrassing yourself without my help," she muttered as she flicked the paper away. "Did you come here just to abuse me, or did you have a point as well?" she added, more loudly and forcibly. Draco smirked at her.
"You see, Granger," she winced as his abrupt return to her surname, "we've been playing a game, and the rules have now changed. I should have realized it before, but I obviously overestimated you. It seems there are things you merely are incapable of."
"Like being part of your stupid stuck-up society?" she retorted, so angry now she could hardly see. Did he know how much his words hurt her?
"You may have the blood and the name, but you'll never be good enough," he replied, his eyes dark and shining as he narrowed them at her.
"I hate you," she whispered, surprising herself a bit at her choice of words. Her shoulders were shaking slightly from the effort of holding back tears, but she jutted her chin out defiantly. He stared at her for a moment, then smiled in a grim sort of way.
"Good," he answered, then he turned on the spot and was gone.
Hermione hated him. That's what he wanted, after all. So why did he feel so wretched? Why did he feel like he might actually be sick if he dared to stop walking? For he was walking now, hard and fast, hardly noticing where he was going, brushing roughly past people on the street without feeling them, never once registering the stares people were casting him in unveiled curiosity.
It hadn't been hard for him to manufacture a fake copy of the Daily Prophet, and then to keep the owl from delivering the real one to Hermione that morning; after all, he had connections and people were usually all too happy to oblige him. They feared his father, and by association, feared Draco as well. The rest was simple. Hermione had played right into his hands, and now it was all over.
Yet he didn't feel relieved. He should be elated, but instead he felt miserable. He doubted he would ever forget the look on her face as she spoke those words. I hate you.
His feet carried him, unseeing, through the streets of London, down one unfamiliar street after another, until he was completely and hopelessly lost. When he finally looked up, he noticed that he was in a section of London that he'd never been in before; a dejected-looking little alleyway with fire escapes that climbed the sides of the buildings and up into the cold, grey sky. His feet stopped here.
A moment's pause, and then he was climbing the cold, black ladder that lead up to the first landing of the escape. He knew about these things from Muggle Studies class back in school; how Muggles used these to escape if the building was on fire. It seemed appropriate, then, to climb up, as he felt that he would like nothing better than to escape. He continued to climb from landing to landing until he reached the roof, and he only paused momentarily before striding to the very edge and looking down.
The street was probably seven stories below him. He wasn't terribly high up, but it was still enough to unsettle his stomach as he leaned over the short wall that bordered the roof of the building. He swung one long leg up and rested his foot on the wall. He tested his weight on it and pulled the other leg up so he was crouching on the edge of the brick.
He didn't intend to jump or even fall, just to stand up and feel the danger and vertigo crash over him. To feel alive. He stood slowly to his feet and stretched his arms wide, eyes closed as a strong breeze stirred up around him and ruffled his robes.
"Oi! What are you doing?"
The shout came from behind him, startling him, and his balance shifted as he gave a start in response to the disturbance.
He didn't have time to think, or wonder what the Muggle at the door to the roof was thinking as his foot slipped and he jerked his body back towards the roof as hard as he could.
But it wasn't enough, and he felt himself plummeting out away from the building instead, falling, falling, and then there was a crash and a blinding pain and then there was nothing.
Hermione was twisting the ring on her finger and absentmindedly decided to give it a tug to see what happened. To her surprise, it slid off easily.
What? she thought wildly. She stood up immediately. How had it come off so easily? Had she done something? Had Draco done something? She couldn't think straight. Before she even thought twice about it, she was Apparating to the Manor.
When she reappeared on the front lawn of the Manor a moment later, she couldn't have told you why she chose here instead of Draco's apartment. She hurried up the front steps and knocked on the door. To her surprise, Narcissa Malfoy herself answered. Hermione was a bit taken aback.
"N-Narcissa," she stuttered, trying to regain her composure. She held out the ring in her hand to show Draco's mother. Narcissa gasped and pulled Hermione inside, glancing around over her head as if looking for someone.
"Hermione," she began as soon as the door was shut behind them. "Did Draco tell you the secret of the ring?"
"Yes, he told me that it bound us together more than engagement, but not as much as a marriage. But how was I able to take it off? Did Draco find a countercurse?" she added, looking around as if Draco were going to pop out of the shadows. Narcissa grabbed Hermione's shoulders and forced her to look into her eyes.
"Has he been acting strangely?"
"Why, yes, he came by my office today and said...some things and then I got angry with him and he left," Hermione said carefully. Narcissa's eyes clouded with understanding and she looked away.
"Hermione, Draco didn't tell you everything about that ring. The thing that held it in place was your love, yours for him and his for you." When Hermione looked skeptical, Narcissa, sighed. "That ring can't be fooled that easily. I know you love him, dear. I've seen the way you look at him."
Hermione felt a blush creeping up her neck. This was insanity! Of course she didn't love Draco, she couldn't...
"He loves you too, only he doesn't believe it," Narcissa went on, ignoring Hermione's expression. "He must have tried to hurt you to break the spell, but it doesn't work that way...love doesn't die that easily...but...the only way you could have taken that ring off..." She stopped short and her eyes grew wide as saucers. Hermione saw that she was afraid, utterly terrified.
"We've got to find him," Narcissa breathed, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her toward the door.
A/N - Preview! Preview! Preview! I'm keeping it short and evil...mostly because I love being evil...
Hermione was numb. Draco couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.