CHAPTER 13

September 7th 2001

Hermione Granger sat in her office at the Ministry of Magic as she read over new case propositions. The pile of parchment on her desk had grown profusely over the last few weeks seeing as she found struggle in deciding on what she wanted to invest her time in next. Her engagement party was on the horizon, and the plans for the celebration seemed to dominate tasks she planned to complete. Having a future sister and mother-in-law consistently persistent that this came before any other work was wholeheartedly the reasoning behind that.

Both Hermione and Ron were not as passionate as his family were to rush the wedding, but with the help of the Daily Prophet pestering them as well, they could not help but start thinking about what they wanted for the ceremony. Only, neither had approached each other with any propositions, and the small stack of ideas that lay on the witch's office couch remained untouched.

Eventually Hermione finished reading all her new case applications for the fifth time, and yet she still had not concluded on what her next project would be. The tap of a knuckle on her door lifted her focus.

"Come in." She invited her unexpected guest. Entering the room was her long time best friend, Harry Potter.

"Harry." Hermione smiled, getting up from behind her desk and hugging the man. Harry worked as an Auror within the ministry and was often out on mission, so seeing him within her office was a rare but comforting gesture.

The two took their respective seats.

"What a lovely surprise! I was just going over new cases, and the words were starting to mould together, so your timing is impeccable." She joked.

"How are you, 'Mione? Are you ready for the ball next weekend?" He asked politely, a little suss for the boy.

"I am doing the best I can. If you could please tell your girlfriend to stop harassing me about dress alterations, I would be even better."

"Ah yes, but if it makes you feel any better, she's probably not badgering you as much as she is me with me robe purchasing."

The two friends laughed with each other.

"So are you here to catch up or am I right in assuming that you are here to ask me for something?" Hermione cut the small talk and got straight to the point. She grew up with this boy, and knew all his queues at this point in their friendship.

"I should have known better to not assume you would see right through my visit." Harry cursed himself. "I actually am here on behalf of the auror department. Off the record of course."

"Okay?" She frowned, unsure of where he was going.

"As you know, Lucius Malfoy died over the weekend." He started, "The papers reported his death as an end to his ongoing illness, only there is suspicion that foul play was involved."

'What do you mean?" Hermione questioned, unease brewing up inside.

"It seems that Lucius' body had dark magic resonating within it when he was brought into St Mungos. As if, just before he died he was hit with a killing curse." Harry explained.

"So how do I come into this?"

"I know that you and Draco have come to this odd point in your work time where you have actually developed a friendship. What I am asking is if you think that he would be involved in his father's death was in fact a murder."

The question stunned Hermione.

She thought back to all of the times that she knew of her and Malfoy being attacked. The hotel, the Romanian Ministry, his house, and those were the only times where she happened to be there. Who knew how many times he had to fight by himself. Each occasion had a different set of hitmen, and yet Malfoy never chose to kill them. He always let them run free or give a message to send back. The boy couldn't even torture Luna. Although he had the blood of a psychopath, there was no possibility that Malfoy was a killer.

Or at least she thought he wasn't.

If he had murdered his father, it was for good reason. Not everyone had the same pure heart as Harry Potter, who never even killed a soul throughout the entirety of the war he led. Hermione knew that whilst she didn't want to believe that Malfoy had killed her Dad, there was always a possibility. If Harry went investigating, he very well could end up in Azkaban. So she did what she always did for her friends. Protected them.

"If Lucius Malfoy was murdered, I do not believe it to be at the hands of his own son." She said firmly. "I have gotten to know the wizard more than he would like, and as broken as he may be, he is not a murderer."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked, disbelief spread wide across his face.

"If I tell you something, Harry, you have to promise to not tell Ron." She baited, hoping that if she gave evidence, the auror would not pursue his gut feeling.

"Hermione if you are about to tell me that you are having an affair, I do no-"

"I am not having an affair with Malfoy. God, why does everyone keep thinking that?" The witch rolled her eyes at the implication. First Pansy, and now Harry.

"That's all I needed to hear. Go on with what you were going to say." He relaxed his shoulders and sat back against his chair.

"When Malfoy and I were in Romania," she began, "there were several men sent there to murder him. I was accidentally involved once, and he pushed me away to keep from being hit with a dark curse. Malfoy never killed the assassins, he knocked them out and removed their memories. So if he could not take the lives of men who were sent to kill him, then there is no part of me that believes that he murdered his father."

Harry sat with furrowed brows, disappointed in the proof that his lead suspect gave no indications to being a killer. He rubbed the stubble on his jaw with the palm of his hand, confused on what to do next.

"Do you know who was sending the hitmen?" Harry asked, curious on who would want Malfoy dead. This could mean that whoever was attached to the Lucius murder, could also be the one after his son.

"No." Hermione lied.

"Well, perhaps the person who failed to kill Draco also succeeded in killing Lucius."

"Perhaps."

"Is Malfoy here? I could ask him who he thinks is chasing him-"

"He is not here." Hermione interrupted, "He has not been here all week. I got an owl yesterday from Malfoy saying that there are a lot of legal issues he has to deal with involving his inheritance and the funeral. He estimated his return to be later next week."

"Excellent, I shall go to the manor to talk to him." Harry clapped his hands together in anticipation.

"Please don't," she begged, "I know this is your job, Harry, but I have broken Malfoy's trust by telling you that his life is in danger. I plan on keeping him as a friend, so you can't ask him anything about it."

Harry exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"I am asking you to trust me, Harry." Hermione pleaded, a part of her scared of what he was going to do.

"If Malfoy gets himself killed because of this, there will be no blood on my hands." He replied frustrated. The wizard knew that the witch was right, but it didn't mean that he was happy about it.

"Thank you, Harry." She reached over and held out her hand for him to grab. Their hands clasped on the table. It could look like the two were making a deal, but really it was a symbol of their friendship remaining a strong link.

September 13th 2001

Draco Malfoy sat in his office at the Ministry of Magic as he read over paperwork that he had missed over the last two weeks. Having to deal with the inner workings of his inheritance to Malfoy manor and becoming the head of the family money, had left him behind on his actual work.

The funeral for his father had taken place yesterday, a private ceremony only for his mother and himself. The two had buried the closed casket in the manor backyard, and ate Lucuis' favourite meal for supper, to celebrate his miserably evil life. Draco had given in to his mother's requests, purely for the fact that it would keep her nose away from sniffing out that her son had paid a mass murderer to kill her husband.

The tap of a knuckle on her door lifted his focus.

"Enter." He invited his unexpected guest. Entering the room was his most recent friend, Granger. She held a tray of tea in her hands, a small smile lifting her lips.

"Hi." She greeted.

"Hello." He returned.

"May I come in?"

"Please."

Granger waltzed in and dropped the tray on his desk. The two had not spoken in person since she had arrived at his house, only owling one another over the days passed. This was a rather odd gesture, Granger had never brought him tea before, it was always him to do so. The offering suggested that she pitied him over his father's timely death.

"How are you?" She asked, compassion on her tongue.

"I am doing as well as one would with the father passing." He answered bluntly.

"Malfoy…" Her tone indicated that she was not going to fight him to hear about how he was really feeling.

Draco exhaled, annoyed at her devotion to see him open up all the time. Another brick was pulled down off his wall.

"I do not know what to tell you, Granger." He shrugged, "As much as I am saddened by his parting, it is also a relief to not have to live in paranoia."

"How is your mother dealing with it?" She questioned, ignoring his pretty reasonable reply.

"Mother mopes. She does not know what to do with herself now. The old prick was all that she had to keep her company. After the war, there were not as many breakfast clubs interested in her fellowship."

"Do you believe she will sell the house if she is the only one living in it?"

"She cannot sell it." Draco corrected.

"Why not?"

"Because I own it."

The statement seemed to shock her. She shook her head and began to pour tea for the two. Draco watched as she seamlessly remembered how he took his tea. The motion made his heart tickle. Handing him his tea, the Slytherin sat back and waited for the Gryfindor to ask him another question she was no doubt itching to ask.

"Have you started to plan a funeral?" She jumped to it.

"We already had one." He answered. "There was a small ceremony yesterday for myself and my mother. I do not think anyone else in the wizarding world was interested in attending the funeral of a death eater."

"I would have." Granger replied immediately.

"And why would you want to do that?"

"Because I care. You should not have had to bury him alone, Malfoy."

Draco could only stare into his tea. Her answer made his breath halt. He was scared to look her in the eyes, scared that he would see sympathy spread across her face, and scared of what he would do to take it off.

She cleared her throat to break the tension, took a sip of her tea and began her interrogation again.

"So how much money are we talking about?"

"What?" Draco asked, lifting his eyes from his tea to her attention.

"How much did you inherit? I always wanted to know in school what kind of galleons the Malfoy's possessed, and now I have to know." Granger grinned, knowing that it wasn't her place to ask a question like that, but did anyway.

"Let's put it this way. The 10 vaults at Gringotts under Malfoy are still not enough to store what Lucius has left behind." He did not care to brag about numbers, but watching Granger squirm in her seat amused him.

"What does one do with that kind of money?"

"Finance two wizarding wars." He answered truthfully.

The two laughed and drank their tea.

"What are you going to do with that kind of money?" Granger asked quietly into the brim of her cup, nervous for his answer.

Draco had spent a lot of time contemplating what he was going to do with inheritance. Before the war the idea of taking over the family connections from his father tasted like a sweet future, but now he was given a clean slate. There was a blank canvas for him to paint, and he held the brush in his hands.

"I am going to give my mother the house, and an amount that will suffice for her to live on for the remainder of her life. Probably more than she will need. The rest I have no interest in, it will be spread across different charitable clauses and provide grants for cases within the ministry that need funding."

Granger looked like she had just been assigned to feed Blast Ended Skrewts. Her mouth open a jar, with a crossed brow and disbelieving eyes.

"Are you not going to keep any galleons for your own personal use?" She asked in awe.

"I have no need for it, Granger." Draco began. "My role here at the ministry earns far more than the average wizarding job. Unfortunately, becoming close with you over the years has led to my cold dead heart finding its own beat, and discovering that I am not the centre of the universe."

"You're kidding me right?" No matter what he said, she was not going to believe him, "Malfoy what the hell has gotten into you?"

"Do not even get me started. These days I seem to repulse myself, and I blame you entirely. That fucking Gryffindor influence of yours makes me want to vomit… but it has its perks."

Granger looked like she was going to ask him another question, but as the words were at the tip of her tongue, Astoria Greengrass entered the room.

"I apologise for intruding." Her high pitched voice interrupted. "But Minister Kingsley has called for a meeting in the boardroom with all the department heads."

Both Draco and Granger looked at each other in confusion.

"Ah right, thank you, Astoria. We shall go there now." The two took one last sip of tea before heading to the conference.

"What do you think Kinglsey could want?" Granger asked as they walked along the hallway step by step.

"Who fucking knows." Draco replied.

Witches and wizards filed into the boardroom, all with perplexed looks on their faces, unsure of why they were called upon on a Thursday. Kingsley entered last, taking his seat at the head of the table. Draco sat next to Granger like he always had. There was never any assigned seating, but from their first days as department heads they had chosen to sit with one another.

"Thank you all for coming here on short notice." Kingsley started the meeting. "This will not take long but requires each department. As you all know, the sudden passing of Lucius Malfoy was nearly two weeks ago-"

Words started to blur in Draco's ears as he suddenly felt Granger's fingers find their way onto his hand under the table. She kept her head forward but clasped onto him without anyone else seeing. Her skin was so soft. His heart was on fire, and his stomach was twisted into a knot. The only thing keeping him from pulling her out of the room right now was the feel of her engagement ring pressing into the nook between his thumb and forefinger.

"-condolences to Mr Draco Malfoy. " The words became clear again. "Through his interihance he has generously decided to donate a large sum to each department here at the ministry."

Draco could see out the side of his eye that everyone in the room was looking at him. Their jaws ajar.

"Yes, it came as quite a shock to me as well." Kingsley laughed as he spoke, "Mr Malfoy has asked that you not thank him, but do not worry as the minister I have already done so on all of our behalf. You will all be expecting a notice tomorrow in regards to the galleons deposited into your budgets, so be on the alert. Any questions or queries, please do not hesitate to visit me in my office over the next two days. You are dismissed."

Quiet murmurs fluttered throughout the room as department heads exited the room. Draco kept his head down to attract anyone looking or talking to him. Granger still held his hand.

After everyone had left, the witch turned to the wizard, questions burning to leave her mouth.

"Go ahead, Granger. Say what you want to say." He rolled his eyes, ready for whatever was coming his way.

"You should allow people to thank you for your generosity." She persisted. That judgy look familiar to her face.

"The less people I have to interact with, the better."

"I do not get you. Your entire job revolves around speaking with people, and yet you loath actually talking to everyone." She chuckled, but also annoyed.

"I don't loath everyone." He replied, bowing his head to avoid her eyes again.

Draco regretted his reply the moment Granger squeezed his hand and pulled away from their touch. He hated himself for longing to feel her again.

"I am going to head back to my office." She excused herself. Standing from her seat and walking out of the glassed room.

The moment she was out of sight, Draco dropped his head onto the table and groaned. He really needed to stop, before he hurt himself, or worse, hurt her.