CHAPTER 1
May 15th 2001
A summer storm surprised the countryside of Wiltshire as water droplets fell heavily over the cobblestone of Malfoy Manor. The low rumble of thunder rolled against the dark halls, vibrating all 8 chandeliers spread throughout the lonely home. A soft tick from a grandfather clock filled the air of the dining room as the withered hands of a tired mother stirred her tea, silver eyes scanning today's edition of the Daily Prophet. On the front page, bright white lights sporadically flashed over the faces of the magical world's newly engaged hero couple, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Hands clasped against each other, waving with their other to the adoring audience filling the Ministry of Magic; low smiles spread across their faces.
"Touching…" mumbled the lady of the house, Narcissa Malfoy, evidently to herself. "A waste of pure blood yet again."
The echo of footsteps soon lifted her eyes from the page as the man who was the source of her fatigue entered the room, cane in hand.
"I see you've read today's paper." Lucius Malfoy spoke, with a tinge of curiosity lingering over his statement.
"Yes dear, I have. A pity for the poor Weasley family really, they had so much potential to rebuild their blood-traitor reputation prior to the war."
"I agree, however, one does expect such events to occur. We can only pray, my wife, that our son does not give in to the same slimy Mudblood enchantments that seep throughout Britain in these times." The elder blond rolled his eyes as he fiddled with the serpent cufflinks on his robes.
Narcissa admired her husband's foundation in beliefs, despite being housebound for the remainder of his life from said values. Lifting the precious tea cup to her red painted lips, sipping the now lukewarm tea, she thought of her only son and pondered his whereabouts on a rainy day such as today.
Draco Malfoy stared blankly over the article that informed him of his former schoolmate's newest update on their relationship. From the inside of his office door, murmurs and clicks of heels across tiled floors could be heard as his inherited silver eyes focused on the muggleborn smiling at him from within the photograph. He recognised her teeth that once sat oversized within her mouth, now perfectly framed after a prank executed by none other than himself from their days at Hogwarts. Her lusciously long curled brown hair fell over her shoulders that were covered by a long sleeved white blazer, ironed without a crease on display. The look of a business woman who lacked the filth of the political world she worked within. Her newly announced fiance did not possess such a captivating persona, but his freckled body towered her petite frame with a natural lean in protection, their hands intertwined.
A light knock on the door broke the sharp glare in the youngest Malfoy eyes. Clearing his throat, "Come in." Draco instructed, surveying as his new receptionist opened the door cautiously.
"I'm sorry to interrupt Mr Malfoy, but you did ask me to remind you of the meeting with Mr Crawford you had scheduled for this morning before he arrived."
"Yes, I did. Thank you, Astoria. Please leave the door open and let him in as soon as he gets here." They exchanged nods as she left the room.
Draco flipped the newspaper upside down so he no longer had to look at the country's sweethearts, straightening his robes and smoothing the side of his hair; an easing maneuver. Mr Crawford entered not one minute later, shaking the young businessman's hand.
"Firm grip. I like that in a man." The older wizard with a stomach larger than his Gringotts account stated, sitting down across from the desk in front of him. Draco mirroring the actions.
"You can tell a lot by a handshake, Mr Crawford. I know just by the clutch on your hands that you, sir, are a man with confidence in his own authority. I like that in a man."
"Right you are son. Tell me Draco. Why exactly am I here first thing on a Monday morning?"
Draco expected no small talk. It was, after all, the reason why he called the man over.
"Mr Crawford, we both know why I invited you here, let's not dance around the bush. I would like to employ your business. You see, my shoulders are burdened with the wrong doings of my father, and the only way to get rid of the whispers that follow me in the street is if the man was dead. A death that would no doubt be a victorious moment celebrated among all of wizarding Europe."
Mr Crawford breathed in deep through his nose, pouted his lips and squinted his eyes towards the white blond sitting across from him.
"50, 000 galleons."
"I'm sorry?" questioned Draco.
"50, 000 galleons and it's done."
"I see… You're going to charge me five times the amount you usually do for your clients because you are familiar with my family's wealth."
A deep chuckle exited the large man's mouth, throwing his head back in laughter.
"Draco, my boy, you are a lot more like your father than you realise. Not quite as slimy though. Yes, I am over charging you but not because of your family's wealth. I have my own riches. That is my price in view of the fact that it is exactly how much Lucius owes me for debts he has not yet paid himself. Killing that snake with the sole of my boot would only be a delicious gift to myself."
The only Malfoy heir favoured the way Mr Crawford's mind worked. He doubted a man who bathed in his own assertiveness slept restlessly. Silence hovered over them. Neither wizards were the type to fidget, in fact their arrogance brewed as their eye contact held steady.
"I find it peculiar that you do not wish to hear the reasoning behind my father's assaciantion." Drace broke the hush, tapping his forefinger against his lips.
"If there was ever a liquidation that did not need cause, it would be that of Lucius Malfoy's. The pureness in your heart has yet to be completely tainted, Draco. You do not need to explain yourself to feel better. 50, 000 galleons. No questions asked"
It was an offer he could not refuse.
"Alright, you have a deal."
"Good man. When do you need it done?"
"15th September, I plan-"
"Ah. I'm gonna stop you there. The less I know the better." Mr Crawford stood from his seat, shook Draco's hand to cement their deal and turned towards the exit, "I expect my 50, 000 in my account by Friday."
"It'll be in by lunch time." Self-assurance heavy over the young Malfoy.
Crawford's second chuckle carried the room as he strode towards the door, "Good man."
With the click of the door closing, Draco slumped against his black leather chair once more. "Colloportus." He sighed, swishing his wand locking the handle across the room.
The true reason for his desire to rid Lucius Malfoy of this world remained a kept secret in his son's heart.
Flipping the Daily Prophet back over to its cover, the soon to be son of a murdered man, looked once more at the muggle-born woman and her weasel fiance before setting the parchment on fire with an 'incendio' cast through clenched teeth.
Hermione Granger had seen her own image of herself and her long term bestfriend, now betrothed, ten times too many today. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, before they rubbed the back of her heels where her shoes had caused her skin to blister. She was used to wearing high heels at work, but given the celebratory events over the weekend, thanks to her engagement, she needed a moment to collect herself before the weekly board meeting.
Rising from her navy blue velvet chair, pulling down her pencil skirt, Hermione walked out of her office towards the ministry's conference room. Along the way she shook congratulatory hands, placed her palm over her heart in thanks as witches told her she would make a beautiful bride, and even signed one copy of the Daily Prophet with a charmed quill that had gold glitter as ink.
Typically she was an employee that arrived early for meetings, today's encounters however, stalled her from punctuality. Upon entering the conference room, everyone had gathered their assigned seats around the table, turning their heads to the late comer.
"Ah Miss Granger, there you are!" Kingsley exclaimed, "No need to apologise for tardiness, today is no doubt a busy day. Take your seat."
Hermione nodded in thanks, scuttered to her seat in the middle of the right side of the table, letting out an edgy breath.
"Just because you're engaged to a Pureblood now Granger, doesn't mean you can start slipping on your excellent reputation and get away with it." The husky voice next to her whispered into her ear as she kept her eyes on the Minister at the head of the table.
Instead of retaliating, Hermione pretended to brush her hair behind her ear, but raised a middle finger in the platinum blond's direction to her left in one maneuver. Flipping him off was all the energy she could muster today.
Malfoy quietly scoffed at the low blow from the woman on his right. Hermione's hand lowered itself to rest on her upper thigh, purposely putting it on display for the Slytherin to see her newest piece of jewelry. The diamond was a larger stone than she had suspected Ron to be able to afford, but then again, after the war the red headed vessel of the golden trio could probably buy anything with his new Quidditch career.
"... as I was saying." Kingsley spoke. "We have just recently surpassed the third anniversary of The Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry has seen triumphant progress in the rebuilding of our wizarding community. We have welcomed new faces this month as department heads, Mr Grooden as Head of Department of Mysteries, Miss Granger as Head of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and finally, Mr Malfoy, Department of International Magical Cooperation. New visions and ideas fresh in their young minds. But we are still working hard to see faith restored in the ministry from our witches and wizards…"
Hermione's thoughts drifted as Kingsley's deep dark voice captured the attention of almost everyone else in the room. She could see from the side of her eye that Malfoy was still looking at her recently jewelled hand. The witch dwelled on the idea that perhaps her engagement made his purified blood boil.
After what felt like hours of unnecessary announcements on behalf of each department, Kingsley closed the meeting allowing wizards and witches to filter out of the room back to their respective work spaces.
Hermione remained in her seat and waited for the line of traffic to clear before making her exit. Once stepping out of the door she recognised the broad shouldered man leaning against the opposite wall, clearly waiting for her.
"As much as I would love to throw insults at you whilst we walk back to our offices, I am too tired for your banter today, Malfoy." She said in a cracked voice, lost from talking so much over the previous days.
"Oh Granger, I applaud you for your continuous efforts in thinking you can tell me what to do." Malfoy sighed as he pushed back off the wall to walk in step with her down the hall, "I do however question why you've lost your voice? Weasel-bee had you screaming his name over the weekend did he?"
Hermione ignored his attempts to wind her up.
"Wait no, that can't be… that would mean that Weasel would have to be good at something, and there just can't be a way that lanky ginger would know his way around a bedroom."
"What do you want, Malfoy?" The hoarse voice squeaked as her steps quickened towards her workplace.
"You're no fun now that you're an engaged old hag, Granger."
She waited for him to no doubt continue.
"I am going to Romania next week to discuss portkey borders with the Minister of Magic."
"You're going to Romania?"
"Yes."
"How does this involve me?
"Werewolves."
"Werewolves?"
"Yes, are you deaf as well as dumb?"
"I think my N.E.W.T.S proves that I am not the latter."
"Irrelevant. I was -" Malfoy came to a halt as he realised that they had reached her destination.
"Malfoy, spit it out." Hermione insisted with wide eyes turning to face him, ready to be rid of his presence.
"Fucking hell, let me finish. I was told by the Hunarian Minister to invite you on the trip to discuss your work with werewolves across Europe or whatever minority your attempting to be the saviour of again."
Hermione squinted her eyes in suspicion at his invitation, or rather, the minister's invitation. It was clear Malfoy knew of her work but tried to brush off his knowledge on such unfavoured topics with insults.
"Would we be going together?"
"In a way, yes. But trust me, Granger, I won't kill you. Not this time anyway." She let out a single laugh at his reply. She knew by now after years of working at the ministry together that there was more of a chance of her killing Malfoy than him killing her.
"Alright, I'll come. Send me an owl or memo with the details."
"Very well."
Malfoy watched her begin to close her office door but abruptly threw a hand at the wood stopping it from going any further. "By the way, Granger… Congratulations."
Hermione looked at his hand, and then to his face, realising that this was the first time she had made eye contact with the silver-eyed pureblood today. There was no smile, no smirk, no look of disgust. He showed no emotion.
"Thank you." She whispered in her broken voice, as she slowly closed the door.
The witch knew his office was neighbouring hers, and there was barely a wall separating them, but she was glad to be separated from the blond. With a quickened heartbeat, Hermione sat back down behind her desk and leaned her forehead against the mahogany in front of her.
"Oh no."