CHAPTER 2
May 16th 2001
Hermione Granger lay awake staring at her bedroom ceiling. The rough snores of the naked man sprawled out next to her became white noise long ago. Despite the few rounds of love making to her fiance, she still couldn't close her eyes. Her skin felt damp, sticky and overheated from laying on her back the entire night. Yes, the entire night.
She stood from the cream sheets twisted around her legs. Light footed steps led towards the guest bathroom down the hall of her studio apartment, careful not to wake Ron. A song of the London city sung regardless of the early hours of the morning.
The shower water was cool against her flushed skin, weighing curls down her back as she ran her hands through her hair under the stream.
The idea of travelling with Draco Malfoy to another country tickled her mind. The two had come a long way since their early days of employment, and yet the thought of being alone with him in Romania twisted her stomach. This feeling reminded Hermione of one of her first days working at the ministry.
"Watch it, Granger!"
"Oh gosh! I am so sorry, I didn't see where I was - " The apology paused at her lips the moment she realised who she grumbled to the ground with. "Malfoy… what are you doing here?"
The sinful boy hurried to rise to his feet, straightened his expensive robes, and primfully watched the witch gather her parchments that were scattered across the floor from their impact.
"I work here."
"You work here?"
"Yes, Granger. I work here."
"Where?" She asked standing up, curiosity exuding from her question.
"Not that it is any of your business. The Department of International Cooperation."
"And what, may I ask, are the qualifications you possess to work in such a highly regarded department?"
"I'll have you know Mudblood, that I wasn't raised by filth like your muggle parents. I happen to speak fluently in 4 different languages, that come in very handy when communicating with countries outside of Britain."
Of course he did.
For a boy who had a change of heart during the war over a year ago, Hermione was intrigued by his unshakeable beliefs. The words didn't sting like they used to, but they sure did make her doubt a possible peace between the two rivals in the foreseeable future.
"Oh." Was all she could say in return. They stood uncomfortably facing each other as busy employers rushed all around them.
"Right… well… good-bye." Malfoy cleared his throat and walked around her in the direction he had originally intended to. His long legs taking big strides away from her.
Hermione remained where she stood. An icky feeling twisting around her stomach. It seemed that the torment that followed her throughout the Hogwarts halls hadn't left her after all.
The banging of a fist on the bathroom door broke the concentration of Hermione's flashback.
"'Mione! You okay in there? You've been in there a while!" Called Ron from the other side of the door.
"Yes! Sorry! I must have fallen asleep, I'll be out soon." She yelled with a hoarse voice, still lacking in healing from the weekend. Without knowing, hours had passed with her head under the water stream and dreaming of a familiar blond.
Wrapping a towel around her body, Hermione walked out into her kitchen, droplets from her hair splashing against the floorboards. Ron was eating cereal at the countertop, hunched over only in his boxers, finding no use of the table and chairs she clearly owned for dining purposes.
"Morning, babe." He forced through a mouth full of food.
"Hi." She whispered, kissing his cheek, trying not to strain her broken voice.
"Hey, I know you said you're headed out to Romania next week, but I forgot to tell you I'll be off for a few matches over the next few weeks before you get back, so we won't see each other for, like, a month." He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, clearing it of any excess milk.
"Oh dear. That's no good. I'll miss you terribly." Brief sentences were her key to recovery.
"Yeah, well, probably nice for you. Won't have to clean up all my bloody clothes I leave over here. Soon enough I'll move in, and you'll have to deal with me forever." He laughed to himself. Hermione could only imagine the kind of patience she'd need to muster once she was married to the man-child. Oh God…
Draco Malfoy thanked the pretty witch that served as the department head's receptionist as she placed a pot of tea down on the mahogany desk with the flick of her wand.
"Is there anything else I can get for you Mr Malfoy?" The younger Greengrass sister asked sweetly.
"No thank you, Astoria." He replied ever so politely.
She treated Draco to a soft smile from her maroon painted lips before leaving him to lift his feet up against the dark wood in front of him, crossing over his ankles and unfolding the newest edition of the Daily Prophet. Today's paper, thankfully, had no pictures of any newly engaged couples on the front.
"How did I know that you'd be here this morning?" He heard from behind his shoulders, ears perking up to the sound of her lost voice.
"You're a know-it-all. I expect no less." He answered, not looking up nor turning around to see her walk over to her desk.
"You're annoying."
He smirked as she sat on her velvet chair and began to pour a cup of tea for them each.
Morning tea was a tradition he liked to keep spontaneous throughout their time at work; to keep her on her toes. Draco was never really one to meet an expectation. Taking the cup she handed him, he leant back into the opposing chair, observing the unusual frizz that surrounded her face.
"Overslept did we?" He assumed.
"No sleep at all, actually. I stayed in the shower too long and didn't have time to charm my vibrant character trait today."
Draco pursed his lips and blew on the hot tea. He liked her hair like this. Reminded him of their days in school. A time when he was clearly the dominant one between the two. Nowadays, he didn't know so much.
"I hope you're not one of those war heroes that suffers from nightmares. That would be awfully cliche of you, Granger." He could see her smile into her cup at his comment.
"No, my days of fretting over egotistical Death Eaters are well behind me."
"Ouch." He pretended to furrow his brow in pain, "Well good, I don't have the time to be your knight in shining armour in Romania."
"Far from it." She retaliated.
His eyes flicked to her forearm. Scarred from the night that most likely did cause the nightmares of a war hero. Perfectly olive coloured skin ruined from his own aunt's sinister torture schemes.
"Is there a reason for our tea this morning, Malfoy? It's unlike you to show up without an agenda brewing in your snake-like mind."
"Can a gentleman not simply have tea with one of the women he loathes most in this world without having an evil objective?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"You're lucky you're ugly and born from filth, Granger. Quick wits like that, a brain as big as yours, matched with good looks could make any Slytherin hard in his pants."
"Are you trying to tell me something, Malfoy?"
"Gross. I had my spoonful of Gryffindorks well before sixth year. I just appreciate the backbone you've grown over the years. I do, however, miss you crying over my quick-talk. They were days I slept soundlessly."
Draco could tell she wanted to say something, but the words remained behind her tight lips only to open to sip from her cup. He would never stoop so low as falling in love with a muggle-born like Granger, just how the pathetic Weasel did, but a friendship with her wasn't so bad. He came to look forward to their tea time, she was the only one in the ministry who could keep up with his repulsive, yet, intelligent sarcasm.
The wizard thought back to the first time they shared a brewed pot…
"Are you trying to poison me?" The curly haired witch asked him.
"Now now, if I was going to try and kill you, Granger, I would have tried with a touch more subtlety." Draco gestured for her to sit at her own desk, he had waited far too long for her late arrival.
"I don't get it."
"Don't get what?"
"What's your ambition here?"
"Can a gentleman not simply have tea with one of the women he loathes most in this world without having an evil objective?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
Draco tapped his knees with his fingertips out of irritation. He never felt nervous, but right now, he felt nervous. She still hadn't picked up her cup filled with tea he had already poured for her.
"Okay, fine. I brought you some tea because I am in need of some help."
"You want my help?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you haven't been obliviated in the past decade? Last I remembered, you hated me."
"I hate everyone, Granger. You're not special."
He could tell that she had recrossed her legs under the table, obviously uncomfortable by his lack of awe in her like the rest of the country had.
"I need your help with a word of recommendation for a new job opening up within my department. And before you even start to come up with some silly sarcastic comment about how I am a foul loathsome evil little cockroach who isn't worthy of your endorsement, I don't need to hear it. A simple yes or no will suffice."
Granger picked up her tea, took a single sip and placed it back on its saucer.
"Go on…" She rotated her wrist to encourage more explanation.
"I know we haven't particularly seen eye-to-eye with each other over the years, but I believe that we have respect for each other in our intellect. Especially more so after working together on previous assignments. You know as well as I do, that we get shit done, and we get it done right. No one else has the writing skills like myself to scrawl a captivating recommendation for this promotion."
Perhaps it was the off-the-cuff compliment he gave her, or the tiny droplet of Calming Draught he laced her tea with, but the corners of her mouth spread to a smile. Draco knew she was used to being asked to write essays for her brave-heart counterparts at Hogwarts, so it wasn't rare for someone to approach her with such a question. It just hurt his ego a mighty lot to do so.
"Do not give me that look." He growled at her. "I do not persuade people to do anything, so don't try and bargain a deal here. Either you will do it, or you won't."
"Okay." She simply said,
"Okay?" He had to confirm,
"Okay, I'll write it."
A wide smile spread across Draco's cheeks, "Excellent."
As promised, Granger did end up writing a captivating recommendation on Draco's behalf. To thank her, he brought her tea once more upon hearing of his own promotion. Thus began the infrequent mornings of hot beverages, quick-witted banter and an odd friendship blossoming.
The sweet ting of a spoon ringing against the edge of a tea cup brought Draco back into focus. It had appeared minutes of comfortable silence had passed during his nostalgia seeing as her tea was at a much lower level.
"I saw Mr Crawford leaving your office yesterday." Granger whispered, most likely trying to savour her voice, "I hope you're not up to something, Malfoy."
"I'm always up to something,"
"Hmmm."
Draco did not want Granger to know of his plans to kill his own father. They were friends, but they were not those types of friends. They would never admit their reliance on one another, that would be too humiliating. Silent judgement swelled between them instead, but it was nice to have someone to talk to who didn't struggle to keep up with the way his mind worked.
"I have to head to a meeting with daft prats regarding the new portkey restrictions."
"Yes." Granger inhaled through her nose. "I should probably start on this paper work. Thank you for the tea. It was well needed."
Draco stood from his chair, "Oh, I'll send that memo over with Astoria soon regarding the Romania trip."
"Looking forward to it."
Striding towards the door, hands in pocket, Draco slowly spun on his heel to face the witch once more.
"Send my regards to Weasel-bee would you? Tell him 'thank you' for keeping you up all night, you're so much more tolerable with a broken voice."
She rolled his eyes with annoyance at his play on her, probably boring compared to his standards, sex life.
"Piss off."
He chuckled at her counterstroke, the red-head rubbing off on her more than he liked.
Closing Granger's door behind him, Draco politely requested Astoria, who sat at her desk in the centre of the black tiled foyer, to clean up the tea in his neighbouring office. He typically didn't have such proper etiquette towards low-leveled employees, but he hoped his politeness would some day pay off on young Greengrass. A rainy day where his lonely bachelor life would creep up on him again.
"There is a visitor in your office by the way Mr Malfoy. I was alerted to a Floo-arrival a few moments ago."
"Ah… I suspected I was overdue on the interruptive company of my progenitor."
Muttering lowly curses to himself, Draco was met with the sight of a woman he was all too familiar with, perched patiently on his guest couch pressed against the right wall.
"Hello, Mother." He sighed, closing the door behind him.
"Hello, Draco dear."
"To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?"
"Come now, Draco. That is no way to speak to your mother."
He said nothing in return, choosing to limit this conversation as much as he could. Leaning the back of his legs against his desk, he crossed his ankles and folded his arms over his chest.
"I am here to once again ask you to return home, my son. I miss you dearly, your father, despite the lack of showing so, also misses you dearly."
"You already know my answer, mother. I don't know why you bother with these disruptive work visits."
"Were you with that mudblood girl just now?"
The slur caused Draco to stiffen. Without noticing, it had become a stranger to his vocabulary.
"Yes," he replied. "You are aware of my friendship with her."
"That I am. I read about her recent engagement, it delighted me to know that your friendship with one another had not led to anything more."
Draco scoffed at the remark, "You need not fret, mother. I have no intent on tainting the family bloodline with mud."
"Good."
"Now that your monthly request for my return has been denied, and your insult to my life choices have been dismissed, I will ask you to leave my office. I have a meeting I need to get to."
Ignoring his request, Narcissa rose to her feet, treading gracefully over to her son. She used her left hand to gently stroke his short hair behind his ear. It was comforting for the pair of them.
"Why won't you come home?" She murmured, both looking into each other's matching silver eyes.
With arms still crossed Draco replied, "Father made his standards very clear. I stand by my decision to leave, and the person for whom I left for."
"You are a smart boy, you could be doing great things for our family name. Working under the same people that put shame to it and restrain your father from leaving his home is not where your future lies."
"He made his bed when he invited Voldemort into our home. He can lie in it."
His mother breathed throughout her nose, disappointed in her own lack of persuasion.
"If you are not careful, Draco, he will hurt you."
"Not if I don't hurt him first."
"Please don't do this, my sweet boy. Please don't turn into the sinister monster he is."
Draco wanted to give her the answers she needed. He wanted to tell her that he will come home, play family, and recover the family business. He wanted to do that for her. But this was something he was doing for himself.
"I'm sorry, mother. My mind has been made. It's too late."
"You know, that Granger girl is rubbing off on you more than I like."
"Me too." Draco agreed honestly.
Narcissa stepped back from her closeness to her son, walked over to his fireplace grabbing powder as she stepped into the hollow wall.
"I do love you, Draco."
"I know." He reassured her, watching as she threw the power to the ground, declaring her return to the family manor.
"I know." He whispered again to himself as the green flames swallowed her.