September 21st, 2011

A/N: I won't bore you with an enormous author's note, although I do appreciate the few of you who take the time to read these, but I'd like to say thanks to Cat (kitcat234) for taking the time and beta reading these chapters for me. They'd probably be complete rubbish without you – I'm American, through and through, and a thirteen year old at that. Plus I'm big on fantasizing. You help keep the characters in check (:

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Four

Harry shrugged, his body relaxing against the back of the couch. But Hermione wouldn't be fooled. The way Harry's eyes seemed incapable of settling on one particular spot gave him away, and he cursed himself for not having learned to break that habit long ago. Only Hermione would notice something like that. Even Ginny had trouble figuring out what Harry was thinking sometimes.

"You would tell me anything important, right, Harry? Or are you pretending to be ignorant just to protect him? Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

For someone with an I.Q. as high as hers, Hermione sure was oblivious about certain things. Like Harry would ever be able to keep something hidden from her for very long.

"I just have an idea as to what 'that' was about, 'Mione. Calm down. I'm sure it's nothing serious," Harry said, making more of an effort to come off as nonchalant. He wasn't that great of an actor, unless his life depended on it. Hermione was the gifted one in their little circle – she could accomplish absolutely anything if she set her mind to it. But Harry had a few tricks up his sleeve too. One being the fact that he knew how to make Hermione leave him alone, which came in handy when he didn't want to talk about whatever it was Hermione had brought up.

"Now what are you planning to do, now that you've had the chance to think about it?" he asked abruptly. Hermione's glare was startled away, and her expression grew thoughtful. "You could always come and jump into Auror training," Harry suggested. "You'd be really good at it and you'd definitely make a difference that way."

Hermione shook her head. Even if she didn't know what she wanted, exactly, she knew what she didn't.

"I don't think the life of an Auror would be right for me. It was always intelligence that got me through tough situations. To be an Auror you need to be really talented," Hermione replied, worrying her bottom lip.

Harry wanted to groan in frustration. Hermione didn't know how skilled she was. She was the one that kept him from getting killed too many times to count. She was the one who saved strangers' lives by a little bit of reading. And she was the one who helped end it all. If that wasn't considered amazing, Harry didn't know what was.

"If I keep listing some career options, will you just pick one? Because I have a feeling you have no idea where you're heading," Harry observed. He didn't have to worry about Ginny coming home before he got anything out of Hermione. His girlfriend had Quidditch practice, and then she was going to go to dinner with her teammates. Harry would have been paranoid, but how could he be, when the Harpies consisted of only female players?

"You're right. I still want to work for the sake of house-elves, and other poor, defenseless creatures, though."

"You're starting to sound like Hagrid. What do you consider poor and defenseless, exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know. Every other poor thing that gets enslaved when it has the right for freedom. Goblins, maybe, but definitely not dragons. I felt terrible for the one at Gringotts, but we fixed its problem, didn't we?" Hermione said with a small sigh. "I wonder how it's doing right now."

"Not the time, 'Mione."

Hermione bit her cheek. What did she want to do? If she couldn't give house-elves more rights through the Ministry, she wanted to change peoples' minds about the way they treated their servants. Even if the house-elves couldn't be freed they ought to be respected. What job would let her influence people like that? Witches and wizards, especially purebloods, were so set in the old ways that they hardly ever wanted to accept change. Hermione would need an insider to help her figure out what her next move would be.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, her brown eyes, so dull before, now very bright. "Oh, Harry, you've been an immense help. I'll talk to you once I've got everything figured out. Thank you!" Knowing that she had made her friend rather confused and not particularly caring at the moment, Hermione ran over to the fireplace and flooed to St. Mungo's.

It's been a while since I've been here last, she thought as she approached the reception counter. One of her most vivid memories consisted of Neville, looking so worn and haunted after he finished a visit with his parents. Hermione made herself snap out of it. It was not the time to get wrapped up in the past.

"I need to speak with Dra-Healer Malfoy, please," she told the receptionist, the one she assumed was Cassie, from what Draco had said.

"Is it an emergency?" Cassie asked, trying to figure out what was wrong with the witch standing in front of her and coming up with nothing. "Because otherwise he's unavailable."

"Oh, it's not really an emergency, exactly, but I do need to speak with him."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but unless you have a medical problem Healer Malfoy will not see you," Cassie said, very patiently, at that. Working at St. Mungo's meant she had to be polite to even the people who frustrated her the most, although she had to admit that the curly-haired witch seemed like a nice sort.

Hermione hated playing the 'Oh I'm a famous war veteran who helped cause the downfall of Voldemort' card as much as Harry did, but she would if she had to. Ron liked to flaunt around the fact that a poor blood traitor such as he could be so famous and rich just to prove people who had taunted him before wrong, and while Hermione did not begrudge him of that, it got annoying at times. She could only imagine what it was like for others who did not know how down-to-earth Ron could be when he chose.

Luckily Hermione didn't have to throw her dignity out the window.

"Alright, Cassie, I'm leaving for the day."

Thank Merlin for this man's impeccable timing, Hermione thought, turning so Draco would see her face.

"Hermione?" Draco blinked a few times, as if trying to confirm she was there. "What are you doing here? Is anything wrong?"

Cassie's eyes widened. Draco sounded so concerned about the woman, whose name seemed very familiar. Could it possibly be the same one he had gone to lunch with, the mystery woman Cassie was dying to know about? It almost seemed too good to be true.

But wait. She couldn't eavesdrop on a healer's conversation. It wouldn't be right. But she was oh so curious now.

"Nothing's wrong, at least, not medically. Do you have time to talk before you go home?" Hermione asked, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She had forgotten to replace her old work robes with different ones when she got back to the Burrow, and was feeling quite self-conscious. Wizards and witches who didn't wear robes all the time were heard of, but they were rare. Oh, well, they can't hold it against me. I have plenty of reasons to dress like a Muggle.

"Sure," Draco said, looking rather bewildered in Hermione's mind. Was it strange that she had come to see him at his work? Perhaps things were different at St. Mungo's. She could usually visit Ron and Harry whenever she felt the need, and she was never questioned. Then again, all the Aurors knew her face and what she had done for their world.

"Thanks," Hermione breathed. She waited for Draco to take the lead; she didn't want to rush him, despite her impatience to get going. She had been the one that nearly barged into his office, after all.

Still appearing confused, Draco walked out of St. Mungo's, Hermione by his side. She opened her mouth to tell him all about quitting her job, and to ask his opinion on what she ought to do next, but he spoke first.

"Do you want to go to The Three Broomsticks? I'm afraid talking on the streets isn't exactly what I had in mind. The idea that anyone could hear us isn't entirely appealing to me," Draco told Hermione, his tone dry but his eyes bright with barely concealed laughter. A sheepish smile and a nod was his only response, although Hermione looked like she was about to burst for whatever reason. Thinking that he would never understand women, no matter how hard he tried, Draco apparated to The Three Broomsticks, bringing Hermione along with him.

Once they were finally seated and had butterbeers in front of them – Draco had paid, despite Hermione's protests – the witch could no longer control herself. She had to tell Draco her news.

"I quit my job at the Ministry."

Hermione had been expecting pure disbelief and shock to cross Draco's sharp features. Instead, he seemed no more surprised than he had when he saw her at his work place only a few minutes before.

"Go on," Draco said, arching a pale eyebrow.

Refusing to dwell on something that was actually quite mind boggling, Hermione continued.

"I'm not entirely sure what I want to do next, but I simply could not stay there any longer. They actually let a proposition to let Death Eaters out of Azkaban before their time is up get all the way to me! I'm one of the last few people needed to approve of something before it can get passed or put in motion. To know that that many of our workers were okay with that…" Hermione shook her head in disgust. Then she paused, and remembered the fact that Draco's father had been a Death Eater. Aside from that, Draco himself had had the Dark Mark branded on his left forearm. He hadn't chosen that, true, but it was still there, tainting his skin forever. Hermione believe that Draco had changed for the better. Truly, she did. But she had to wonder about his opinions on the matter at hand.

"I can't say I blame you," Draco remarked when he noticed that Hermione didn't look like she was going to delve much more into the topic. "If the Ministry starts to let criminals off easy, no one will support it. No one wants a repeat of then, with wizards and witches who love to use the Unforgivables will be running around freely."

Hermione nodded. She sipped at her drink absently and wondered what else she ought to tell Draco. The whole reason she was there was because she wanted advice on how to help change peoples' opinions on house-elves. But Hermione was also a bit uncomfortable with the way Ron had reacted, to everything. She couldn't confide in Harry – he was Ron's best mate, for Merlin's sake. Hermione wouldn't ask him to choose sides. But Draco…Draco would remain neutral and honest, no matter what the situation. Hermione wasn't sure if that was a good thing quite yet, the way he spoke his mind without worrying about a person's feelings. She decided it was a good thing, simply because she needed that kind of honesty right then.

"While I was explaining to Ron about what led to me quitting, I mentioned the fact that my former boss," Hermione loved the sound of that, "inquired after who I went to lunch with. Ron was curious as well. I didn't see why it mattered, but I told him. At first I thought he was going to explode, he turned so red, but then he calmed down considerably."

"And you're upset about that?" Draco asked, more so curious than incredulous. He knew some women liked to know their significant others cared about them by means of the most obscure ways, but he hadn't thought Hermione was like that. Besides, Draco wasn't even sure if she was. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, thinking that Hermione was as strange as any other women he had encountered.

Hermione twirled a lock of hair around her finger, and wasn't sure how to answer Draco's question. Was she upset? Sure, the passive Ron kind of bothered and confused her, but it was better than him being angry. His childish tantrums had been one of the reasons Hermione had found him so very insufferable during their years at Hogwarts, even while she cried over him during the time when Ron had dated Lavender Brown. Hermione found that the more she thought about it, the more relieved she was that Ron hadn't started yelling at her.

"No, I don't think I am. I'm just used to him overreacting, and I don't know how to feel about this new Ron."

"That's understandable," Draco replied fairly. "But even I can see that the Weasel definitely has feelings for you. Hell, I bet even Goyle noticed at some point, while we were all at Hogwarts. You don't have anything to worry about."

Hermione smiled slightly. Draco definitely knew how to make something sound painstakingly obvious.

Oh, bugger, I got completely off topic… Hermione sighed inwardly. It seemed as if ever since the war ended she couldn't stay focused as well as she could before, and that bothered her. She had only noticed it recently, and it had been hovering at the edge of her mind. She didn't know the reason, but she would love to figure it out.

"Anyway, the reason I asked to talk to you was because I'm not sure what I'm going to do next. I want to help house-elves by changing peoples' opinions about them but I don't know what step to take. Any suggestions?"

"Hm…" Draco ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair. He had stopped slicking it back with gel after the Battle of Hogwarts – it reminded him of his father, who was rotting away in a cell in Azkaban, far too much.

Draco wasn't sure how to give Hermione the advice she so obviously craved. He himself had grown up believing house-elves were only servants, and nothing more. But as the years went by he realized that they did have minds, and feelings, so he stopped being cruel to them. His mother, too, had started to act more kindly to the little creatures who attended to their every need. Draco just wasn't positive on what had brought the change on.

"It's going to be hard, Hermione," he said eventually. "Purebloods plant the seed young. Children are raised around house-elves who give them anything they want. Then they teach their children, and the cycle repeats."

Hermione considered Draco's words. Plant the seed young… And Draco could practically see the gears turning in her head. Hermione Granger was forming an idea, and it was bound to be brilliant.

"I know just what I'm going to do," Hermione announced excitedly. Draco, wondering where that was going, patiently waited for her to explain more clearly.

Is she sure she knows what she's going to do…? Draco thought when Hermione didn't continue for a few minutes. Little did he know that she was worried about how he would react.

What if he thinks it's stupid? It probably is. Oh, bugger, I wish I could talk to Harry. Then Hermione gave herself a mental shake. Draco wasn't mean enough to completely bash one of her ideas.

"I'm thinking that I should open a day care, or a school, for little witches and wizards who aren't quite ready to go to Hogwarts. It'd probably be for ages four to eleven, or something like that. From what you've told me, most pureblood parents don't really pay attention to their children, so I'd get plenty of those at my school. I could teach them about house-elves and how to treat them. And I could also help them learn to control their magic, and other things. Oh, it'd be perfect!" Hermione's grew brighter the longer she continued talking. If she was that excited about this little school of hers, Draco would support her. He only hoped that Weasel would as well.

A/N: Sorry if you got confused at any point in this chapter o.o Let me know if I should change anything, and I'll take it into consideration. My chapters usually have over 3,000 words (I don't think this one is), but that's mainly because I have huge author's notes :P Oh, and check out Catherine Potter 09's stories if you're a fan of Harmione :) I ship like, everyone with Hermione, so I'm happy with a lot of fics, as long as they're realistic and at least a little fluffy xD Also, go read kitcat234's work! :D She's amazing at writing and she helps me a lot with my stories. She specializes in Germione, and has recently published another story that's a really great idea. You can find some of her stuff in my favorites!

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