Chapter 39

A/N Hey I've been so busy with school so updates are going to get sporadic but know that I'm still working on this story, no worries!

The next morning, at the ministry of magic

Hermione tried to keep a scowl off her face as the elevator went slowly down. It was a crowded day at the ministry, and all she wanted to do was get down to the peace and quiet of her office as soon as possible.

She breathed in the elevator's stale air with a sigh. Last night was still running through her head like a bad movie on an airplane. Impossible to turn off.

She didn't know what had possessed her to walk out like that when she'd been close to getting him to open up. She could've asked how his mother had reacted, and learned a little more about their relationship. She could've changed the subject.

And after thinking all night, she still wasn't sure why she'd left. Sure, hearing him desperately reassure her that he wouldn't tell anyone had made her stomach do sickening somersaults. But so what? She could've stayed.

Of course, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

And the truth was, Hermione was feeling lost about the whole thing. She didn't know what to do, what to say to make him open up and eventually, to see her as someone to date. She didn't even know how to give a blowjob properly.

She wasn't sure what had happened to Malfoy during the war. If his connection to Astoria Greengrass was any indication the story was at least interesting.

But when that wasn't preying on her mind, she found herself warming to him. She wasn't about to entrust her deepest fears to him, but something about the mystery drew her closer. He was an enigma: the free man who still seemed caged by something. And Hermione Granger was, as he'd said, a naturally curious witch.

The only problem was learning about a person wasn't quite the same as reading a book, and she hadn't the foggiest idea of how to go about this. He didn't seem to have any feelings of open hostility towards her, but how to turn that into love seemed impossible. Not only had she never pursued someone before, but the circumstances were confusing.

On the one hand she was manipulating him, trying to move closer to him without giving herself away. On the other there was the genuine compulsion to be around him.

The elevator doors opened, and with a start, Hermione realized everyone was waiting for her. Embarrassed, she exited and walked slowly down the hallway to her office.

She was in over her head. Way over her head. Not only did he seem more than comfortable in this arrangement, which made her wonder if he was telling the truth when he said he hadn't slept with anyone for five years, but she didn't know how to move him out of complacency. Why would he seek a relationship with her, when any alternative would likely be easier?

She didn't even want to think of the terrible reason she had to seek a relationship with him. Which reminded her that she needed to act quickly to find out any information she could about the other prophecy. She closed her eyes in her panic and almost ran into the doorway that led to her office, pausing to right herself.

How was she supposed to do this?

She wasn't like Ginny, all gorgeous and sure of herself. Of course Ginny had been able to pull this off as many times as she wanted. All she had to do was flick that long red hair over her shoulder and change the subject to quidditch. God only knew what Malfoy was interested in. Prophecies? Broomsticks? Her behind?

She didn't know anything about him and time was of the essence. She had less than three months before her interview with the ministry. She hoped that she would be able to make at least some kind of progress by then. But there were too many angles, too many directions it could go. Their arrangement could just peter out if she found they had nothing to talk about. Malfoy could start dating Luna, and then she'd be really out of luck.

It was overwhelming. She had to focus on what she could do. She could talk through the next step with Ginny, maybe at lunch. She could contact Malfoy. Harry was already pulling strings so she could speak to some members of the wizengamot. She had to think in small, manageable steps. Because thinking about the big picture made her want to have a panic attack.

She had to speak to Ginny as soon as possible. She opened the door to her office with that purpose in mind and stopped dead in her tracks.

On her desk was a bouquet of beautiful white daisies in a vase and two cards.

Hermione let out an almost painful breath. She's been so wrapped up thinking of what to do next that she'd forgotten his reaction. Embarrassment washed over her like a heavy summer storm. Of course, Malfoy didn't know that her reaction last night had been about how hopeless and terrible she felt in this whole endeavor.

He probably thought he'd hurt her feelings. Which begged the question: would he drop her like a hot potato, or apologize and continue their arrangement. She approached the desk as if it had a predatory animal on it. The first envelope was from Harry, a response to a query she'd sent. The second was unlabeled.

With a determined set to her jaw she opened the blank envelope and found a hastily scrawled note in blockish, unfamiliar handwriting.

Granger-

Turns out Daphne hates roses and daisys. Thought they'd be better in your office than the trash.

Thank you for your help,

Theodore Nott.

Well that was a surprise. She set the vase on her file cabinet and admired it a moment. She had to thank Nott too, for pulling her out of her thoughts.

With a smile, she set on the second envelope, scanning Harry's familiar handwriting.

H-

The minister has agreed to meet with you. He has time to speak on monday at 3 pm, and is expecting your owl if that time is good. Let me know if you want me to go with you.

H

PS. Brunch this weekend includes Ron and Blaise. Just letting you know before Ron does.

Hermione's heart gave a little lurch, but she wasn't sure if it was nervousness about meeting with the minister, or the postscript.

She shook it off and reached for her favorite quill and a small set of plain notecards. She scrawled off a thank you to Harry, and a lunch invitation to Ginny, Ron and George, if he was working that day. On a larger, more formal piece of parchment she sent an inter-office note to the minister, confirming their time.

Then, she hesitated over another notecard. To send a note to Malfoy, or to wait a while? To be guilty or not to be guilty? She had to come up with an excuse for her behavior. Perhaps they could come up with something over lunch. It wasn't as if she needed to send it right away.

She laid her forehead against the cool wood of her desk and took a deep breath.