CHAPTER 4
May 20th 2001
Hermione Granger woke to the peaceful sound of birds chirping at her window and a soft wind blowing against the sheer curtains of her balcony doors. Looking at the clock on her bedside table she read 7:34am, meaning that she had slept for over 13 hours.
"Gosh." She whispered to herself.
Stepping off the bed, Hermione walked over to the balcony in her silk pyjama singlet and matching shorts. The air was crisp against her skin, but the warmth of the Romanian sun wrapped around her. Green pastures and hillsides surrounded the castle hotel. It felt so close to being at Hogwarts in the months before summer holidays. Stretching her arms above her head, taking a big yawn, Hermione looked over at Malfoy's balcony opposite hers. She wondered if he was awake or not, or what he was doing last night. Had he gone to dinner? Did he workout and go to sleep?
Just as she put the thought to bed, Malfoy appeared through his window wearing nothing but tight black shorted underwear. His back was towards her and couldn't see the witch looking. She tried to look away but it was like driving past a car crash, she had to see what was going on over there. He was built a lot bigger than expected, wide set shoulders that cut triangular to a thinner waist. His thighs were lean, skin pale and smooth except for a thick scar that ran directly down the lining of his spine. Hermione wondered what situation the pureblood would have been in to achieve such a daunting blemish.
Jerking her eyes away from his body she turned and walked back to her room shutting the doors behind her so quickly the glass shook.
"Bloody hell." She grunted, stalking over to the bathroom.
After having showered and dressed in her work clothes, Hermione walked back into her suite to find a trolley full of breakfast food waiting for her. Elves must have delivered them as she was getting ready. Amongst the pile of croissants, bacon, eggs and toast, she spotted a small black box with a note attached. Revealing the enveloped note, it read:
'For you.'
Joy filled Hermione's heart at the abnormal gesture. Ron must be missing her.
Placing the note on the trolley and looking inside the black box, sat a silver band with a gold rose and thorns engraved wrapping around the loop. Hermione gasped at the treasure, it was truly magnificent, and wonderful of Ron to remember her favourite flower. They had often had the conversation about naming their daughter, Rose, if they were to have one.
Slipping the ring onto the fourth finger on her right hand to mirror her engagement, she held it up and caught the piece glimmering in the morning sun. Perhaps agreeing to marry Ron was going to fix all their problems after all.
A chime on the clock indicated that it was 8:30am, and she needed to get down to the lobby to meet with Malfoy. Quickly stuffing a croissant into her mouth, Hermione dashed down stairs. The Slytherin stood near the waiting room fire mantle in his usual all black suit matched with leather gloves, looking at the watch on his wrist. The accessory on his hands was an odd addition, she thought.
"I know, I know. I'm late, I'm sorry." Hermione puffed approaching him.
"That you are, Granger. It is not polite to keep a gentleman waiting."
"You are far flung from a gentleman, Malfoy." She retorted. "Prat with wealthy parents who force fed him etiquette is more or less the words I would use to describe you."
He grinned at her insult.
"I was going to say 'ladies first' and allow you to floo first, but alas, I am not a gentleman." Malfoy joked, grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace.
Hermione rolled her eyes, crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her shoe against the marble floor. As the green flames encircled Malfoy, leading him to the Romanian Ministry of Magic, she followed in his footsteps.
Stepping out in the headquarters of the ministry next to Malfoy, Hermione was in awe of the building that surrounded her. She had expected it to look similar to the one in Britain, black tiles covering every inch, but right now she was surrounded by white marble. A water fountain sat in the centre of the room with a statue of a wizard and werewolf united in harmony. The peaceful atmosphere overwhelmed Hermione's soul.
"This is where we part, Granger." Malfoy joined where she stood in admiration. "I will be in the International Travel offices all day, and you will be somewhere I don't care to know. We will meet back here at 5pm sharp."
Before she could say anything in return or even ask what direction she should take, he walked away disappearing into the crowd.
"Right." She said to herself, straightening her shoulders and carrying herself over to, hopefully, an english speaking informant.
It didn't take very long for Hermione to find the Department of Care to Magical Creatures, noting to herself that there was a lack of 'Regulation' in this nation's title. The front desk administrator led her to the department head's office, using his wand to open the door for her.
"Mizz Granger, vhat a vonderful time it iz to have you here," said the elder woman with straight black hair leading down to her lower back. "Pleaze, take a zeat."
"Thank you, Madam Varga. Your country is very beautiful." Hermione replied, sitting down in her appointed chair.
"I am told it iz very, uh how you zay, taking breath away."
Hermione giggled at her attempt, "Yes it is."
"Now Mizz Granger, vhat iz it ve can do to help you?" asked Varga.
Hermione frowned, confused by her question.
"I am sorry, Madam Varga, I was under the impression that I was invited here to combine forces of those within the department who assist in the care of werewolves,"
"Oh! Yez! Of courze, I must have been confuzed. Zee Minister mentioned that he zent out an invitation after Mr Malfoy suggezted you come vith him." Varga replied, a pink flush rising in her cheeks.
"Malfoy suggested I come?" Hermione asked in awe.
"Yez! He inzizted you vanted to vork viz uz for your verevolf case."
Hermione looked down at her hands and began twisting her engagement ring, confused as to why Malfoy made it seem like the minister was personally inviting her. It was very presumptuous of her to assume that the wizarding community of Romania had heard of her research and wanted to work with her. Thinking about it now, she wondered why she didn't question the thought of the country where werewolves lived in peace, was asking her to come help them.
"Iz everything alright, Mizz Granger?" Madam Varga asked, breaking her train of thought.
"Oh yes, Madam Varga, I am fine. Now that I am here, it would be lovely if I could speak with those who do care for your werewolves and share ideas." She replied, taking the best out of the situation.
"Abzolutely, let me take you to them now."
Madam Varga introduced Hermione to all those working within the department that would be of help in her werewolf case. She found it astonishing that a few of them were in fact werewolves themselves.
The day passed quickly. Hermione lost track of time in the wonder of all the information she was gathering from the Romanian Ministry. It was mind blowing how ignorant and pretentious the British wizarding world had become towards creatures not of the human race. They could be living in a world of peace, but are too stubborn to change their ways, even after a bloody war.
Hermione gathered her things and made her way back to the fountain to meet with Malfoy to return to the hotel. As she sat on the bench beside the water feature, Hermione caught her blond haired co-worker amongst the crowd. He was talking to a younger witch with red curled hair, a tight business dress covering thin black stockings and pointed heels to match the outfit. Malfoy had a smile across his face, one that she very rarely saw within their own conversations. The pretty woman touched his arm as she giggled at something he had said, mesmerised by his British charm. Hermione wondered if he was speaking to her in English or in her native tongue.
Not wanting to look like she was staring, Hermione looked down at her feet. Her heels were not as elegant as the red head's, they were more suited to a woman who would like to walk comfortably throughout her day.
"So, did you cure discrimination today, Granger?" asked Malfoy, now standing in front of her.
"Not yet," she teased, "But I am interested in your flirtatious chat with that woman just now. Careful Malfoy… Someone might think you have a thing for Weasleys."
He tightened the strap on his gloves, air blowing out of his nose in a silent laugh.
"Please don't project your guilt for falling for a twit like Weasel-bee onto me to make yourself feel better."
Hermione brushed the cheap shot off and stood up next to his overbearing frame.
"Shall we?" She asked, gesturing towards the floo network.
"We shall." He replied, leading the way.
The two landed safely back into the hotel lobby and made a way up to their rooms' floor. Light discussion was had on the events that perspired throughout their day. Hermione avoided asking him about why he had asked for her to come on this trip with him, she thought perhaps she was afraid of the answer.
They separated and went into their separate suits. Hermione undressed from her work clothes and into a casual pair of jeans and a floral blouse, admiring the ring she was gifted earlier that coordinated well with this attire. The sunset through the window was, as Madam Varga tried to describe, absolutely breathtaking. Oranges and pinks spread across the sky, warming the green tones on the land. Hermione decided she would step out and enjoy the beauty before heading out to find herself dinner.
Throwing the glass doors open, blowing back the sheer curtains, she stepped out onto the pavement of her balcony. The cement was cold under her feet, but the sun was inviting on her face. Breathing in the fresh air, she took a moment to appreciate the charm that Romania held, it made her miss the Scottish countryside in her schooling days. In the corner of her eye she could see Malfoy doing the same as her leaning against his railing, glass of firewhiskey in hand and still in his work wear.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" She spoke, loud enough for him to hear.
"I've seen better." He replied with a monotone.
"You're such a git."
"I've been told."
Malfoy pulled himself up, took a sip from his glass and faced her.
"Care to join me for a drink?" He asked,
"I was going to get a bite to eat. Do you care to join me?"
Malfoy pondered on her thought for a moment. It suddenly became aware to Hermione that they had never actually had a meal together, not even lunch, in their time working at the ministry. They had shared discussions over tea on numerous accounts, but nothing more. The idea of the two of them eating dinner in public for all to see was daunting for her. Malfoy was taking too long to answer her, most likely thinking the same thing, so in panic she came up with a second option.
"Why don't you join me for dinner in my suite, and you can bring your liquor collection over." She suggested putting him at ease. "No one can know we are acquaintances in these four walls."
"Only if you agree to never tell anyone. Ever." He demanded with sarcasm.
"I agree."
"Alright, Granger." He smiled very similarly to how he did with the redheaded girl. "I'll be over in a minute."
Hermione didn't know why she felt nervous. It was only Malfoy. It would be like their tea times, but with alcohol…
Not a minute later he entered her room along with bottles of numerous alcohols.
"I do not know what your preference in drink was, so I brought options." Malfoy told her, also sounding a little nervous.
"Thank you." She giggled.
An hour later they were slumped on the couches in the corner of the suite, stuffed from food. Hermione had ordered one of everything on the menu, keen on trying all the traditional Romanian delicacies.
Keeping up with the small talk, the two had discussed the work plans they had hoped to achieve over the next few months. Malfoy was a good listener, as she tended to ramble on about all her passionate pursuits. Though eventually, they ran out of ministry topics.
"I have a question for you, Malfoy…" she said, a little tipsy from muggle wine she was surprised he brought over.
"Do tell." He replied.
"Why are you so sweet and sour all the time? I can never tell if I'm pissing you off or not."
Hermione knew she was taking a risk asking him such a sensitive question. He never shared anything personal about his life, but maybe with a bit of firewhiskey in his system he would loosen up a bit. He wasn't saying anything yet, just looking up at the ceiling in his chair, so she took it upon herself to explain why she was asking him about his attitudes.
"What I mean to say is, ever since the war you have had this broodiness about you, like the world is so desperately against you. Every now and then, there are these slices of a Malfoy that feels like he is back to his Hogwarts prankster ways, but they're gone before I can even enjoy it. Take right now for example, we had a nice friendly dinner but at any moment I'm ready for you to burst out of the room. It feels like you enjoy my company, but loath yourself for it."
He sighed through his nose, and without taking his eyes off the roof, replied "Do you see me as your friend, Granger?"
The question threw her, "I-I'd like to think so…" She answered hesitantly.
"I see you as a friend," he bowed his head to look at her across the room, "but everything in my body screams for me to hate you. I was raised to see muggle-borns as equal to the peacock shit beneath my boots as a child."
"Do you see me as the peacock shit beneath your boots as an adult?"
"Evidently… No. I believe you to have worth within the wizarding world."
"So what is the issue?" she asked impatiently,
"I don't know." He lied, "I wish I did."
It had appeared that the Firewhiskey had done its job, allowing her to see a little bit of the his mindset. She didn't wish to push it any further, afraid a nuclear blowout would happen. Hermione grabbed the bottle of wine and filled her glass to the brim. Picking the drink up, she chucked the whole glass down without missing a beat, then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"I don't know whether to be impressed or appalled."
"Having two males best friends, one of which you are engaged to, teaches you how to keep up at the pub." She replied with a toothy grin.
Malfoy stood from his seat and laid down on the carpet at the foot of her bed. Hermione echoed his actions and laid parallel to him a few feet away. She would never admit it to Ron, but she genuinely enjoyed Malfoy's company.
At the thought of her fiance, she lifted her hand to look at the rose engraved ring she was gifted earlier.
"Where did you get that, Granger?" Malfoy asked fiercely.
"Oh, someone sent it to me with breakfast this morning. I assumed it's from Ron, but it is awfully strange of him to send gifts."
Malfoy sat up to lean on his forearm, taking a closer look at the piece of jewelry.
"You're sure it's from Weasley?"
"Well, who else could it be?" She thought out loud.
"Take it off."
"What?"
"Take it off now."
His voice was stern, it made her heart race out of slight fear.
"I can't, it's stuck. I've tried a few times."
Malfoy grabbed her hand with his own gloved ones, and lifted her hand to his mouth. Panic swelled through her veins as he tugged her palm and wrapped his lips around her finger, enclosing on the ring. She tried to tug it out, but his grip on her tightened. His tongue lapped around the ring a few times. It was wet and ticklish. If there wasn't so much angst running in her system she would have giggled at the action. Confidently, he took it in his teeth and slowly pulled it off her finger. A pop was heard as she left his mouth and he dropped the ring into his glove.
"This," he growled, showing her the engravings on the ring, "is the symbol resembling the workings of a sociopath mastermind."
Hermione clenched her hand into a fist and drew it to her chest as Malfoy laid back down on the floor. She could feel every thud of her heart beating, unsure if it was fright or forbidden desire.
"Wh-who?" She stammered.
A heavy pause filled the air.
"Lucius Malfoy."
Hermione shot up from the ground and onto her feet.
"Lucius Malfoy?!" She screeched.
Malfoy followed suit and gracefully rose up from below her, unfolding to tower over her as he stood straight.
"Do not fret, Granger. This has nothing to do with you. He's trying to get to me."
"What do you mean trying to get to you? Can he not send you a bloody owl? Or better yet talk to you over Sunday dinner!" Her volume got louder without a care.
"We have not spoken in quite some time. I would estimate over a year." He answered lowly.
Hermione started to feel that wine kick in, "Well maybe you should talk to him! Clearly he is trying to talk to you."
Malfoy did not reply, instead choosing to step aside and walk away from her. Hermione held a palm to her chest and calmed her panicked breath. She turned to see him picking up the bottles and putting them back on the table, neatly in height range.
"Why do you not want to speak with your father, Malfoy?" She asked calmly this time.
"It isn't important."
"It is very much so important. He is sending me gifts, or threats, or whatever it is he is doing. I don't want to be involved."
"I do not want you to be involved either."
Malfoy exhaled, probably knowing she wouldn't drop the subject until he confessed. He gestured for her to take a seat on the bed.
"That ring has been charmed to track us. I assume my father knows that we are on this business trip together, and he's trying to keep watch of me."
"Why?"
"Lucius cannot leave the house, so he has men do his dirty work for him. Unfortunately for him, he does not have many contacts in the Romanian Ministry, and those he does no longer carry any respect for a prisoner. Therefore, charmed jewellery. It's a way of him knowing where to send British bondsman."
The wizard threw the ring up into the air and as it came back down to hit the floor, he cast an 'Indencio'. It was a very suave manuevore. Hermione felt the heat of the flames burning the silver jewelry on her cheeks before it evaporated within itself, leaving behind no evidence of any tracking schemes. She remained seated at the foot of the bed as Malfoy stood on the carpet in front of her, both hands in his pockets.
"Why does he have to know where you are?"
"It's complicated."
"Try me." She insisted.
"You said you don't want to be involved."
"I don't, but I want to know why it's complicated."
"If I told you, Granger, you would only want to be more invested. That ridiculous Gryffindor heart of yours will only want to save the day."
"So… you are in danger."
Malfoy began walking to the diving door between their rooms,
"I'm not talking about this anymore." He said in defeat.
Hermione knew that in his lack of response he certainly was at risk, and he did not want the help of a 'mudblood' despite his confession of seeing her as his equal. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of chasing after him. His bloody ego was way too big.
"Malfoy." She called after him, "Should I be worried? Is he going to hurt me to get to you?"
Malfoy paused at their door. It looked like he was thinking of a response. Making one up to make her feel better, perhaps.
"No." Was all he said, slamming the door behind at his exit.
Hermione got off the bed and walked over to the table with all the alcohol. Unscrewing the cap to the Firewhiskey, she took one last swing, letting the burn run down her throat.
She wondered how a son could hate his own father so much, and vice versa. Although they were Malfoy's and neither were very tolerable. What had happened between the two men? It wasn't that long ago that the youngest of the two wouldn't go five minutes without the mention of his heritage.
Hermione felt sorry for her co-worker, he probably wasn't raised with the warmth of loving parents. It seemed like a very conditional relationship.
As the high of a night of drinking came to a low, Hermione lay on top of her blankets, fully clothed. The memory of Malfoy using his mouth to get the ring off her hand crossed her mind briefly before she passed out from exhaustion.