A/N quick update, huh?! thought i'd upload this one sooner rather than later as there was such a large gap between 19 and 20. please read and review! getting a lot of readers but no reviewers. if you've been following me on tumblr, you'll know that i am considering deleting my fics, so some support would be great, otherwise i'm going to assume no one cares... anyway. enjoy! thank you to my new beta reader, katniss-duchannes on tumblr!
Emma was surprised to see her boss back so soon after the morning's events. After a fast-forwarded brainstorm of ideas, she had been coerced into having a working prototype of the wizarding mobile phone ready in two days, but she had absolutely no idea as to why she was being made to create it so quickly, or for what purpose. She had also been asked to keep it quiet – no one but her, Malcolm, and Kevin were permitted to know anything about the new product. Being the obedient employee that she was, she had agreed to all of the conditions, and set to work on it straight away. Draco promised her that he or Harry would be back on Friday evening.
She was also glad that she no longer felt the need to become a clumsy, blushing schoolgirl whilst around him. After seeing Draco at his worst – those two days of interviews really were awful – she had sorted out her feelings and now felt loving protection for him, rather than embarrassing infatuation. She just wanted him to return safe and sound from whatever he was doing with the Ministry. Of course, she wasn't stupid; she knew that he was doing some kind of undercover work for them. Draco had told her that a large amount of money had gone missing from his Gringotts vault; almost two hundred thousand galleons in total. Emma guessed that he was helping to track the criminals behind it. And he was actually running low on money for the first time in his life! It felt nice to see Draco working for the right people for once. Working for the Death Eaters, whether involuntarily or not, was not the best start to his adult life, and working for himself wasn't much better. Now he could earn his money back or at least find the people responsible for stealing it in the first place.
"I know it's not actually finished yet, but it would be a great way to communicate," Draco told the Minister. "It'll be undetectable, as it uses partly Muggle technology, and it means Granger and Seamus can talk to you instantaneously, instead of you all having to wait until the end of a shift for information."
Kingsley sighed. "It is a good idea, Malfoy, but you haven't even started production yet."
"I have faith in my team. I know they can do this quickly."
"I suppose I will have to trust you," Kingsley replied, standing up from his seat. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting with the French Minister for Magic about the possible Triwizard tournament. I know you will be visiting the safe house tomorrow to prepare, so make sure everything's in order. Keep your coins on you at all times. Understood?"
"Understood," Hermione said unnecessarily. Draco looked at her with disgust. She had always been a teacher's pet at Hogwarts, and now she was sucking up to her boss. Some things never changed.
As Draco was preparing to leave the room, Harry caught hold of his arm.
"What is it, Potter? It's lunchtime."
"Come into my office for a second."
Draco sighed but complied, following Harry into his relatively large office. "If this is about me getting along with Granger again, I –"
"No, it's not," Harry interrupted. "This is about your undercover work. I need to make sure you can… defend yourself against attempts to access your mind." He sat down and gestured that Draco do the same.
"Potter, you know I'm a skilled Occlumens," Draco said carefully, sitting in the chair in front of Harry's desk.
"Yes, but you're probably out of practice. Well, at least I hope you are."
"I hear it's like riding a broom. You never forget."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So, can I…?"
"Go ahead. I'll block you out easily."
"Leglimens."
Draco felt Harry attempting to delve into his mind. You'll have to do better than that, Potter.
It's like trying to break into Gringotts in here, Harry's voice echoed in Draco's head. Although, I have done that once.
Draco focused harder and, after just a few seconds, closed his mind completely. He smiled smugly at Harry's defeat, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.
"Well, I have no doubt that your mind is impenetrable. You certainly did better than I did when Snape attempted Leglimency on me," Harry told him quietly. "Although, I have heard that Occlumency is easier when you're devoid of emotion."
"I am notdevoid of emotion, Potter," Draco growled. "In fact, I'm feeling pretty pissed –"
"Less of that, please," Harry cut in. "Okay, you're free to go to lunch. I think everyone is going to Broomstix in Diagon Alley; you're welcome to join us."
"I'd rather eat my own eyeballs."
"Thought so," Harry muttered.
Once inside the cosy Broomstix, Hermione and the others sat down on an small oval table, moving their chairs around to accommodate all six of them.
"What's everyone drinking?" Harry asked. "I'll get this round."
"Butterbeer, please!" Seamus called. His request was repeated by everyone except Marcus, who asked for a firewhiskey.
"Hermione, could you help me with these?" Harry asked politely. Hermione nodded and stepped over Dean to join Harry at the bar.
"Couldn't you have just levitated them, Harry? Or are you scared you'll drop them again, like you did that time in The Three Broomsticks?" Hermione chuckled.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you in private for a second," Harry said quietly. "I know you weren't given a choice about staying in the safehouse but –"
"Harry, it's fine," Hermione interrupted. "This is bigger than any problems Malfoy and I have, it's bigger than all of us. It's something I'll have to live with for a while. It's not as if I'll be living with him forever."
Harry studied her expression. "You'll have to talk to him. A lot."
"Yes, I know," Hermione sighed. "But as long as he keeps a civil tongue I can manage."
Soon they were all sat down with their drinks in front of them, sipping quietly. Seamus was the first to break the silence.
"So, do we have to go back to work tomorrow?"
"I do," Harry answered glumly. "But the rest of you don't. Any other Auror work will be dealt with by the Law Enforcers. I've owled Ron to let him know. Just make sure you have your coins on you."
"So that means we could have a few days off?" Dean asked gleefully. "Brilliant!"
"If I were you, I'd be practicing Falspells," Marcus commented, "ready for the escape."
"Falspells?" Dean questioned, frowning deeply.
"Yeah!" When he was met with blank looks, Marcus huffed and took a sip of his firewhiskey before replying. "It's a group of spells that sound almost exactly like the real things, but don't actually do anything. That way, when we go to Azkaban to stop the escape, it won't look like we're letting them go."
"Can you teach us?" Hermione asked sharply. She had heard of Falspells, of course, but had never needed to use them. Marcus was right – they would come in useful.
"I'm not much of a teacher," Marcus grumbled.
"Neither was I until I gave it a go," Harry told him. Hermione, Seamus, and Dean nodded in agreement.
"All right. Meet me at the Ministry tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. We can use one of the training rooms. I'm not promising you'll learn anything though."
Once back at the house – for she could not call it a home just yet – Hermione phoned her parents with the mobile phone they had got her for Christmas. Hermione's mother, Jean, answered after the third ring.
"Hermione! Darling, how are you?"
"I'm okay, mum. I know I haven't called you in a while –" Hermione started.
"It's been over a week, Hermione," Jean scolded. "We've been worried about you."
"I'm sorry, but I've been rather busy. I lost my job at the Ministry."
Jean made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat. "Oh, darling."
"It's all right, I was given a new one… as an Auror." Although this wasn't technically true, it was the easiest way to explain the situation. Hermione had explained an Auror's job to her parents before, so at least she knew they would understand, albeit very slightly.
"Isn't that dangerous, sweetie?" Jean asked concernedly. "I thought you were settled in your office!"
"It's fine, mum, honestly," Hermione sighed. "But I'm going for, um, a training exercise soon, so I'll be away for a few weeks."
"What sort of training exercise causes one to be away for multiple weeks at a time?"
"The sort that I couldn't possibly tell you about," Hermione said carefully. "It's Auror training, it's different. But my party is still going ahead as planned on Saturday, hopefully."
"Oh, fabulous!" Jean exclaimed into the phone. "What are you going to be wearing?"
Hermione sighed again. "I don't know; whatever is in my wardrobe I suppose."
Jean gasped. "But Hermione, dear, it's your twenty-fourth birthday! You need something pretty to wear. Let me take you shopping on Saturday morning."
Hermione desperately tried to think of an excuse. "Oh no, that's fine, um, I'll go on Friday…"
"Friday is perfect for me! Now I work part-time at the Dentistry I get Friday's off," Jean told her daughter happily. "Come to the house at eleven o'clock and we can go shopping in the mall that has just opened in town."
"I was going to wear my robes, actually," Hermione replied uneasily. Her mother accepted her 'specialness', as she called it, but she didn't understand why Hermione couldn't wear Muggle clothes and have a relatively Muggle life. "But we could go shopping in Diagon Alley if you'd like."
"I'd rather go to a normal shopping centre," Jean said primly. "Robes always look so… scruffy."
Ten minutes later, Hermione had agreed to visit the Muggle shopping mall with her mother on that Friday in search for a suitable dress to wear to her birthday gathering. She secretly hoped she couldn't find anything so she could wear her robes like everyone else would be, aside from her parents. The Grangers had met Harry and the Weasleys a few times before, but she didn't know how they would cope with a garden-full of witches and wizards at once. It was all very tiring, especially when her father asked her about when she was planning on providing grandchildren, and whether they'd be magical or 'normal'. Hermione feigned a visitor at the door and hung up as quickly as she could. Collapsing on the sofa in a sudden rush of exhaustion, Hermione decided to close her eyes for five minutes and then get on with researching Falspells ready for the next day's lesson.
Hermione finally awoke to Ron smiling dopily at her. If Ron was home that meant she had slept for close to four hours.
"Hello sleepyhead," Ron greeted her. "How long have you been here for?"
"I finished at midday," Hermione replied, stretching like a cat and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I was only going to close my eyes for a few minutes."
"It's fine. Shall I cook dinner?" Ron asked, walking over to the kitchen.
"Aren't you going to ask why I'm home so early?" Hermione answered indignantly. "I'm usually late home."
"Harry owled me earlier about something, and he said you were done in the Auror office for the day."
"Oh."
"He wouldn't tell me what was going on there, which is weird. Have you got a mission or something?"
"Or something," Hermione said quietly. She knew she wasn't allowed to tell Ron any details about the task that lay ahead, only that she would be away for a while. She hadn't broached the subject with him just yet, and thought it could wait at least another day.
"As long as it doesn't affect your birthday on Saturday!" Ron was retrieving pasta out of the cupboard, magically filling a pan of water as he did so. "Do you know what the veg-chopping spell is? I've forgotten."
"Let me do that for you, Ronald," Hermione said, getting up from the sofa. "Last time you tried to cook you ended up singing your eyebrows off."
"Yeah, but we still got a good meal out of it, didn't we?" he said, grinning as he passed the pasta over to his girlfriend of five years.
"If you could call it a meal," Hermione joked. She non-verbally summoned the vegetables and placed them on the counter. "Sectar Equalis." The vegetables started slicing themselves as if they were being cut with an invisible knife.
"You always know what to do," Ron said fondly, watching her as she cooked. "I'd be hopeless without you."
"No you wouldn't!" Hermione defended. "You'd manage fine. You'd just need to experiment a bit."
"I'd probably blow the house up."
Hermione laughed. "Most likely. But you'd get there in the end, and that's the main thing."
"I don't want to imagine my life without you, Hermione."
Hermione didn't reply.