Italy had always been one of Draco's favourite places to visit, it doesn't matter the time of year, the scenery is always breathtaking. The blond often visited Zabini's Tuscany villa when he was younger. In the winters they would head to San Cassian with Parkinson and Nott. Until they earned their Apparation licenses, they would race to the resort on their brooms. They stopped once they realized Pansy was Apparating to San Cassian within a few minutes—the brat.
The four of them weren't all that close anymore. Life, and he supposed his shift in point of view changed their friendship. It wasn't the fact they hated muggles, they just couldn't handle the extent Draco accepted their ways. The wizard had even gotten a driver's license in the UK and colonies. His No-Maj friends—Benji, Alec, and Danny, who went to the same medical school as him, would often build cars together to help get the three through school.
It had been awhile since he, or they visited the other country. The last he'd seen them, they had come to meet Scorpius the day he was born. That had been such a terrible day, they'd lost Tori. Draco had felt himself being dragged under, but something, the very simplistic, Danny said made the blond hold on tightly to his sanity. 'You have Scorpius now, and didn't you mention something about a Goddess or something—maybe now is a good time to show some faith.'
The two couldn't afford him to breakdown and so Draco pulled himself together and took care of things as he always did. Tori's wake was beautiful, so many people ended up showing to pay their respects. It was no surprise to him that so many people knew her, she was a beacon. She swayed so many hearts, even when they didn't realize she was doing so. Tori was always so light-hearted and subtle about silently manipulating the way people thought, the way they felt.
Hermione's Muggle-born Orientation program was still funded by a large majority of the people Astoria swayed. The two would have made a terrific, and terrifying, duo. Hermione writing the program and Tori garnering the support, the change they could have made together. The blond pulled himself from his thoughts and briskly Apparated to the villa, knocking with the large brass ring that was being held in the mouth of a lion's head—a bit dramatic, but that's how Zabini's family has always been. A young woman answered a minute or two later.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," she politely greeted him with a bow of her head. "You are here to see Master Zabini, sir?"
"Good afternoon, Celia," he returned her greeting with a nod. "Is he in?"
"Yes, right this way, sir," Celia said as she stepped to the side and gestured down a corridor. The witch was leading him down a corridor, turning a corner and advancing down another long walk way. Blaise's villa was huge. Through the years, the young Malfoy scion had become quite humbled and couldn't understand the need for such grandeur. Celia eventually stopped at a door, giving it a light rapt.
"Enter," they heard come from the door. The witch gestured towards the door and gave a slight bow before turning to leave.
"Celia, you know you don't have to bow to me," Draco called after her before stepping into the Italian man's study. He looked up from his desk, sighing and rolling his citrine eyes.
"Malfoy, I told you I would get to it," he reminded the blond who had closed the door behind him.
"It has been nearly a year, Zabini," Draco shot back, raising his brows and holding a hand up as if he were presenting some sort of evidence. Really, he was asking 'what in fucking Salazar's name is taking so bloody long?' "I would not be so impatient, if I had not found out that this attack was not the only one. You said her shadow came up missing, what about the other times?"
"Fucking shite," Zabini muttered, his hand dropping his pen and going to rub his face. The man stood, towering somewhat over the blond as he came around the desk. He nodded towards the door Draco had just come through before heading towards it himself. "Come on."
The two Slytherins made their way through the twists and turns of Blaise's villa, descending a couple stairwells. The Italian stopped at a large, ancient door, tapping an elaborate code out on its stone. Draco stopped the sigh that was on the brink of passing his lips. He knew very well that code was a ruse, the first five taps unlocked it moments ago. Finally, the door was swinging inward, allowing them to walk through.
"I have a recreant," Blaise informed him, going towards a cabinet, where Draco knew he kept his commissioned memories. The Italian opened the door and gestured towards an empty spot.
"It's missing?" Draco exclaimed, eyes wide as his hand went to his face. He couldn't believe his eyes. Not only had one of his men gone missing, but something in his possession had come up missing. "Why didn't you tell me, Zabini?"
"I've been trying to formulate a plan to catch my Judas," he replied as he sat on a table. The taller wizard looked lost as he simply shrugged. "They're good. I've not the slightest clue who it could be, mate."
"Have they taken anything else?" The blond questioned, afraid to hear the answer he already knew. Blaise sighed, a hand going to the back of his neck as he looked down.
"Previous details," the Italian revealed. It was obvious he was struggling with this information himself.
" Her details," Draco elaborated, his tone taking on a more monotonous form. A hand swiped down his face as Zabini nodded. This couldn't be happening. They knew where she lived then. " Fuck, what is Potter doing?"
"It—I don't think it's Purists, Draco," Blaise stated with a shake of his head. The blond's brows furrowed as he stood with his hand on his hips, his tongue probing his cheek while he thought.
"Who else could it be?" He didn't know of any other organizations that would be so hell-bent on stopping her vision. Would they layoff once the witch announced she was putting her campaign aside? Are they going to continue to mess with her if she announces she is vying for Minister? That was a stupid question, of course, they would.
"I've got to go," the blond began to retreat from the room, the Italian following after him. "I'll contact about another detail. I'll find your whisper, Zabini."
"I appreciate the help," Blaise sighed. He was never one to admit he needed help, too proud for that. Everything he made, he did on his own, much like the Malfoy heir.
"It's no problem," Draco assured him, waving his hand. The two were passing by the Villa's courtyard when they were stopped by a rather beautiful woman calling over to them.
"Blaise, is that Draco I spotted?" The woman inquired curiously, tilting her head to see past a pillar blocking him from her view. The blond took a step back and sent the woman a smirk. The woman beamed. "It is! How have you been, darling?"
"Alessia, sweetheart, I have been splendid," he greeted the woman with a kiss on her cheek, earning a scowl from the tall dark skinned man from behind him. Just like old times, Draco chuckled to himself. Alessia is Blaise's mother and one of his favourite pastimes was flirting with the woman and deliberately giving his mate nightmares.
"He was just on his way, mama," Zabini noted to her, his lips in a terse line. Draco smirked and raised a brow at the man behind him.
"Relax, Zabini, I know I could never sweep such a beauty away," he lamented with a sigh before sending her a sly wink. Her latest husband, the poor rotter, was sitting a ways behind the woman merely sipping on his coffee while reading the post. It seemed he was use to men flirting shamelessly with his new wife. "I do have to be on my way, Alessia. It was lovely to see you—always a treat."
"You Malfoy men are always so coy," Alessia chortled before giving him a light peck on the cheek and turning to take a seat across from her husband. The blond turned on his heel and the two were advancing down the hall once more.
"What's the deal with this new one?" Draco pondered aloud.
"Carlos Di Dio," Blaise replied, "there's not much about him, no criminal records. He is a muggle."
" Really?" He questioned with raised brows. The blond didn't realize that Alessia was into muggles. "That is a twist."
"It is indeed," the Italian agreed with a nod. They stopped at the Villa's entrance. "Let me know anything you find out."
"All right, same goes for you," the shorter wizard stated as he pointed to Zabini. The Italian nodded before Draco Disapparated to a field and was porting back to England. He Apparated once more, landing near the Ministry. As much as he'd like to say he was here to see a certain witch, he was not. Instead, the wizard was here to see the Head of the Auror Corp.
"Hello, sir, if I could, please, have you check in your wand," the guard sighed out, gesturing towards the small platform to set your wand. This had to be the most mundane occupation to have ever existed. Draco removed his and placed it on the surface, removing it once he was given the go ahead. He use to come to the Ministry quite often to give testimonies when he worked a St. Mungos. The healer could have spat at the thought of the place.
Draco made his way to the lifts, pressing Level 2 once he stepped on. He wasn't even sure if the wizard would be in, but he could at least leave a message for him. Potter needed to know that his best friend is the target of an entity they knew nothing about. The blond allowed himself to shift and sway with the lift as it stopped and turned, descending as it went. He exited when it stopped on the DMLE's level, swiftly making his way towards the office of the Head Auror.
"Good afternoon, is Auror Potter in?" Draco questioned with a nod to his assistant.
"No, sir, I'm afraid he's not. Is he expecting you?" The young witch asked as she looked through her planner.
"No, he's not. This was a bit of an unexpected visit. Could you leave this message with him when he gets back, it's urgent," he stated as he slipped a piece of parchment from a small pad meant for messages. With a quick scrawl Draco left a sealed note with the witch. "Thank you, have a good day."
"To you as well, sir," she called back to him as he was already retreating down the corridor. The wizard hurried out of the Ministry and Disapparated back home to spend a bit of time with Scorpius before he went into work to be sure things were running all right. He thought about holding a meeting today as well. The witch was right, he couldn't just offer his hospital up like that, there were far too many people involved in the livelihood of Aceso, which was why he would hold a meeting and see what everyone thought.
"Daddy!" Came from the kitchen when he landed in his foyer. Scorpius was darting through the living room, throwing himself at the wizard. Draco caught the little ball of energy, immediately showering him with kisses. The little blond wrapped his arms around the older blond's neck, grinning and laughing uncontrollably.
"What have you been up to today, monster?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchen where he had come from. The wizard's brows shot up at the sight of his brunette witch sitting at the dining room table with Potter.
"Mio make me lunch," the little said, pointing at a little plate between the two adults sitting and talking over tea.
"She did? Did you tell her thank you?" Draco asked, a tone of suspicion greeting the child. He lowered himself in the chair across from Potter and pulled Scorpius' plate over so the boy could eat while he held him.
"Thank you, Mio," Scorp chirped before taking a bite of a carrot.
"Mhm, that's what I thought." He summoned a glass of water, taking a small sip as he looked between the two.
"You're welcome, sweetie," Hermione sang out as she leaned on her elbow, cheek in hand. Her hazels flitted to Draco's greys.
"Dea, you're having a good day, I trust?" The blond tilted his head as he observed her. She was in a better mood than she had been as of late. The witch nodded with a small smile on her lips.
"Yes, it has been great. I hope you don't mind, we had stopped by to see you, but Danielle said you weren't back just yet and allowed us to sit while we waited," she informed him before sipping on her tea.
"Not at all," Draco assure her with a shake of his head. Had it been anyone else with her, there'd have been a bit of a problem. It was just Potter, however. He glanced down at Scorpius' plate and decided to wait a few minutes before bringing Italy up. "Uncle Benj says 'hey, punk.' Want to call him later tonight?"
"Yeah! I see him?" His little asked excitedly, his eyes lighting up. The older blond pulled his lips to the side as he thought.
"You'll have to ask him, Scorp," he told him, not wanting to promise he'd get to finally see his uncle for the first time. Draco decided to send him a text to warn him of the toddler's question. That way he wasn't put on the spot with guilt. A few minutes went by with the child in his lap babbling about his day so far. He was doing lots, according to him.
"Go on and head up to your playroom, monster," he prompted him as he lowered Scorpius to the floor and was gently nudging him forward. The blond hated every time he sent him to play in that room on his own, no other children to keep him distracted. "I think I want to get him enrolled in a nursery."
"Yeah?" Hermione hummed, resting her chin on her fist, a brow raising. Draco stood with a nod, his hand resting on the top of her head as he past her. He needed something other than water, perhaps coffee. The wizard was already a ball of nerves—tea and a Calming Draught.
"How was Italy?" She asked, sensing he was stuck in his head. Her hazels watched his hand summon a potion, uncorked it, and downing it quickly before banishing the vial. He poured some hot water in with his infuser and was coming back around the table, taking his seat and situating himself. "You're restless, Draco."
"I stopped by your office, Potter," Draco informed the other wizard. The raven-haired man rose a brow, surprised by the information.
"Why's that?" He quizzed, his head tilting. Why, indeed, the blond groaned to himself.
"To inform you that you need to have a detail on Madame Minister at all times," he answered, his greys drifting to meet emeralds and then hazels.
"What did you find out from my memory?" Hermione questioned, her brows pulling together, her heart sending an uneven rhythm towards him. He took in a deep breath before sighing.
"I didn't get the chance to find anything out," he calmly stated, keeping his finally bubbling anger at bay. Zabini knew it had gone missing and he didn't say anything. Has Blaise been compromised? "Your memory seems to have gone missing."
"I don't understand," met him in a soft reply. Neither did he, really.
"Zabini's sanction has been compromised," Draco sighed out, running his fingers over his temples.
"By who?" Potter inquired, sounding a bit surprised. It was no surprise he knew of the underground network.
"We have no clue," the blond replied, shaking his head as his hand went to untie his hair. "It isn't the Purists, at least that's what Zabini says. There are some new players, it would seem and they do not like the witch currently present. They have stolen old detail information on her. Meaning—"
"They know where she lives," the Auror finished, abruptly standing. "I'll have some wards placed on the house right away."
"Search for hidden caches and rooms," Draco called out after the retreating wizard.
"I don't tell you how to do surgery, Malfoy," Potter yelled back before stepping out of the house. The blond tore his eyes away from the foyer and let them land on the witch sitting at the end of the table. She was trying her best to remain calm.
"You don't know at all who it could be?" Hermione was shocked, to say the least. She was absolutely certain it was the Purists who were toying with her. This was a terrifying discovery—they knew nothing about them. What did they want—were they attempting to scare her from her goals, or was that completely unrelated?
"No, Dea, we don't," he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. The blond was going to have act as her official attendant, going on hiatus at his hospital indefinitely. There was no way telling when these people would be caught. His mind went to where he could go to hire another bodyguard. He knew very well that the Ministry wasn't going to allow a detail on her just yet.
"We'll be continuing your training in the morning. I was finally able to book your appointments, too. I really don't want to have you cancel it," Draco told her as he sat there in thought. "If the two of you would still like to go, I will escort you. Just until we find you some attendants, Dea."
"Draco, you can't escort me everywhere," she refused with a shake of her head. "You have work to worry about."
"I can go on a brief hiatus," he quickly returned, holding his hand up.
" No, Aceso Medical needs their director," she insisted, "that places runs so smoothly thanks to you, Draco. Do not jeopardize your hospital. It's one of the things I'm most proud of you for."
"Wh-what?" Draco stammered out, his throat closing as he tried to swallow, resulting in more of a convulsing action. He hadn't heard her properly, he was certain of it. No, the wizard was merely hearing things he wanted to hear. It felt as if the room was suddenly hundreds of degrees higher, making him feel as though he needed to remove his button up—was he even wearing a button up, that would be stupid, it's summer.
"I said I am proud of you," Hermione began, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head and leaned forward somewhat. She bit her lips, attempting to stop a smile. "Are you—blushing?"
"I-I—n-no, of course n-not," the blond stumbled through his words, averting his eyes from her hazels. His heart was racing at a speed that should have been impossible. What was this woman thinking—just declaring something like that out of nowhere.
"It certainly seems like you are," the brunette lightly teased, her lips hiding behind her knuckles as her chin rested in her palm. She'd never seen him blush before—it was adorable. His cheeks were a faint pink hue, which on his skin tone, showed fairly well. She bit her lip as she watched him look anywhere but her, acting as shy as Draco Malfoy could without straight leaving the room. The witch stood to her feet, drifting towards him, feeling the need to draw the situation out.
"I mean, really, who else could have founded such an incredible medical center in such a short amount of time, but you, Draco?" Hermione coyly quizzed, skirting behind him, inwardly giggling as she watched him take a deep breath, trying to calm himself. One of her hands was gently gliding over his shoulder, resting on the nape of his neck, his skin was quite warm. As she made contact with him, the wizard in front of her barely visibly jumped, not having been prepared for her to touch him. The tips of her fingers to her other hand raked through his silken locks, pressing lightly over his scalp, eliciting a quiet gasp from him.
"I don't think there is anyone else as intelligent or as innovative," she murmured near his ear, her hands gingerly massaging at him. He often took care of her, did he have anyone to do the same for him? The witch highly doubted it. "There's certainly no one else nearly as dedicated as you, Draco—dedicated to your work, to your son, to me. I find myself wanting to reward you for your hard work."
"Re-reward me, Dea?" Draco was trying so very hard to be good, to behave and not turn around and wrap her in his arms, trailing his lips up her neck, over her jawline, and onto her lips. It was rather difficult when the impossible witch was teasing him. He knew that's what she was doing, he felt the bond the moment she realized he was blushing—she had been turned on. The blond knew he should stop her, knew that she and the weasel were not officially separated—she was just so damned intoxicating.
The feel of her hands on him, working away at the tension he'd been previously feeling, it was maddening. Every knead from her delicate fingers was driving him to the brink of insanity. Her soft lips being so close to the shell of his ear as she praised him was not helping matters. His Dea was seeking to ruin him, bring him to his knees as she stood above him—how it should be. Draco let the woman behind him toy with him, if only to feel her hands a little longer.
"Yes, what would you like, Draco?" He heard her ask, knowing his answer immediately—thanking Merlin she couldn't use Legillimency. Leave that sod, he silently pleaded. Draco knew she wasn't ready, though. She would try until it broke her, if only for the kids.
"I-" He began, but abruptly cut himself off. The blond couldn't ask for that either, ask to feel her lips against his once more. Draco nearly pulled away when he felt a light pressure on his lips, his silent prayer graciously answered. A shudder coursed through his body as that night crossed his mind, the moment he bound himself to her, to this being that deserved everything from him. The wizard found himself carefully standing, a hand burying itself within her curls just above the back of her neck as his other hand gently cupped her cheek.
Her lips were just as he remembered, as soft and plush as peony petals. The fingers twisted about in her hair, were tentatively pulling her head back at an angle so he could kiss her how he wanted, unreserved, passionately. The blond kept the kiss slow and tender at first, his skin teeming with excited energy as their lips pulled apart just long enough to readjust and slowly press against one another again. The longer it lasted, however, he was pressing his lips harder against hers, suckling at her lower before carefully nipping at the swollen flesh, begging her to let him taste her just once, to let his tongue invade and caress hers just one time. Before he could let his tongue slip between her beautiful lips as they parted for him, willingly inviting him in, Draco tore himself from her—a breathless moan escaping her throat reminded him that she wasn't his and that he couldn't let this happen.
"I-I'm sorry, D-Dea," he quickly apologized, backing away from her a few feet, which for him was a lot of space. "I lost myself and took far more than I should have, and was about to take even more."
"Draco, I am the one who kissed you," Hermione reminded the impossible wizard before her, guiltily stepping away from her. She watched as he swallowed and averted his greys away.
"Y-you're no longer able to deny something happening between us, Dea," Draco pointed out, a hand nervously going to the back of his neck. "Besides, with my recent failures, I don't really believe I deserved that kind of reward."
"Wha—failures? What are you talking about?" The witch shook her head, very thoroughly confused. "Do you mean my memory? That wasn't your failure, Draco.
"If it's about my attacks, we've talked about this—they're not on you," Hermione sighed out, placing a hand on the side of her face, shaking her head. He was far too dedicated to her, the man expected far too much of himself—he is only human. "You're to dismiss those, they're not yours to carry, so stop it."
"Are you commanding me to do so?" He asked her, his voice lowered in defeat as his shoulders sank. His greys still didn't meet her.
"Yes, Draco," she sighed out. "As for your first concern, I don't think that will matter. I honestly don't see Ron and I getting back together."
Oh, how he wished that was the case, but he knew this witch all too well. Would it be wrong to give in and go along with her? Couldn't he just desperately believe they were through, that they both realized what a terrible fit they were for one another? They were just grasping onto what they knew from the war—from before the war. Perhaps, he could believe a little, but he felt like he was setting himself up for more pain.
"Would you allow me to escort you and your mother to your appointment?" Draco changed the subject, not really keen on the red-headed sloth trudging his way through his mind after such an amazing kiss with his Dea. "I'll be sure to find you a bodyguard and thoroughly screen them."
" Fine," the witch caved, her curls shifting about with her head as she shook it. Hazels rolled with a wave of her hand as she took her seat once more. "You should get a massage while you're there, Draco. You're far too tense—it was like kneading a rock on your shoulder."
"I'm fine, Dea," he assured her, taking a few strides behind her, a hand raising to her cheek and letting a knuckle graze over it before kissing the top of her head. "I presume the children are with your parents or their father, otherwise you would have panicked far worse a bit ago."
"Yes," the witch confirmed, not letting on to which, even though it didn't matter—they're allowed to be with their father, it would be cruel to keep them from him. Draco gave a nod before going to his fridge and pulling out a few fruits to munch on. "Would you want to go out tonight?"
"Despite what you heard today?" He asked incredulously, a brow rising as he glanced over at her. Their appointment was already predetermined, he couldn't allow that promise to fall through—going to the club on a whim, was a different story. She shrugged nonchalantly, giving him a rather warm smile. Draco hurriedly looked away, he never imagined he'd receive a smile like that from her.
"I'll be with you, won't I?" The brunette reminded him, her voice meeting him with that sweet honey trickling down his spine, making him shiver, his hand gripping the edge of the counter.
"True," Draco affirmed, glancing at her. He kept his eyes off her lips, fixed on her pretty hazels instead, because that made things loads better for him—in the way that it didn't. "I will take you out tonight, then, Dea."
"Good," the beautiful witch across the way chirped out, a broad smile greeting him as her shoulders hunched happily and relaxed. The wizard watched as she sipped her tea, reading through something on her phone. Despite wanting to just exist near her, he sighed, putting the fruit away and retreating up the stairs to change into a set of scrubs. The healer gave Scorpius a kiss on the head and hugged him before going back down to the dining room to perform his usual farewell to the witch, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
"Have a good day, Dea. I'll see you later," Draco promised with a sly wink and Apparating away. Was it okay to flirt back with her? Did that cross a line? The wizard had no idea, this was all so new.
"Oh! Healer Malfoy, you're back from Italy already?" A rather familiar blonde witch beamed at him as she walked into the break room, where he had landed.
"Good afternoon, Margaret. Business finished earlier than expected," he responded with a nod to her. The witch's head tilted to the side, her hands slipping into her scrub pockets.
"Hm, is that a good thing, or bad?" She questioned curiously, which normally he wouldn't grace with an answer, but it was harmless enough.
"Not great, unfortunately," Draco sighed out with a light shake of his head.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Margaret lamented, her lips tugging towards the side in sympathy.
"Thank you, Margaret. I should be off," he said, nodding to her before beginning to head off. The wizard stopped in his tracks, briskly turning to her. "There might be a staff meeting later, so you know."
"Oh, okay," the witch accepted the information before he was off. Really, the medical center was running just fine without him. That's how he had his staff trained, to be able to handle anything thrown their way in case he was ever indisposed of. He signed off on a few minor procedures that needed done along with scripts that required approval. Honestly, he just wasn't needed, not until a major procedure needed to be done anyhow.
"Mary, we're going to be having a staff meeting around shift change," the healer mentioned to the medi-witch as she approached the Remedies' desk while he was signing a few documents. He didn't really need to look up to know it was her, after working with her for so long, he had become accustomed to her specific pattern of footwork. "This way we catch those just coming in and then those leaving after."
"Very well, sir" Mary replied, giving him a curt nod before collecting the potions she needed and rushing off. Later, Draco would find himself standing in front of half of his crew in the break room that had an Capacius Extremis charm casted on it. He had sent a notice out that everyone should arrive twenty minutes earlier than normal while sending one to those that had been scheduled off. The blond let the last bit trickle in before he began.
"Everyone employed here should know our mission, yes?" Draco quizzed, his greys glancing around the room lazily as he casually sat on a table in the front. Majority of their heads nodded at the question, which was good, because no one was hired without being given a spiel on why they were there. "Good, but in case there are those who have somehow forgotten—Aceso Medical was founded to provide care to both magical and non-magical people whom need it. We are working to bridge the medical ravine, so to speak between the two communities.
"You all must be here because you agree with our mission—ahem, although, I do know that some of you are here due to me snagging you from Mungos," the healer revealed with a clear of his throat, earning a few chuckles. "We all know how greatly I dislike that place. That being said, you still agreed. Anyroad, at Aceso we do not operate at the behest of a board of directors. While, at the end of the day I do have the final say, I prefer to get the opinions of my team.
"I'm sure you have all heard, or have at least in passing, of Hermione Granger-Weasley née Granger," he tested, catching quite a few nods. "The witch has pushed out a few programs in favor of muggle-borns and muggles throughout the years. I, myself, have supported her work as an individual. However, Mrs. Granger-Weasley is currently—well, it's been temporarily postponed, but I'll get to that. She has a campaign, you may or may not have heard of, called the Muggle and Magical-Folk Accordance."
The healer went into a brief description of the Accordance. Many curious glances caught his eye, telling him they were interested in knowing more about the campaign. There were others that were skeptical, which was completely fair. The rest didn't seem to want to show interest in one way or the other. This was a lot to suddenly take in, he knew that, of course.
"I am mentioning this, because I am contemplating publicly supporting Mrs. Granger-Weasley's campaign as Director and Founder of Aceso Medical Center," Draco informed the staff, letting that information sink in. There was a sudden buzz of murmuring in the room. He waited a few moments to let the room settle back down before he went on. "However, before that, a different campaign is being pushed to the forefront, and her Accordance will be postponed for a short time. The witch has decided to become Minister of Magic.
"She would be the first ever muggle-born M.o.M," he stated the obvious fact. A lot more seemed interested by this notion, several murmuring their support. Others were unsure she would be a good fit for the position, to which Draco silently scoffed. "What do you all think—should we publicly support Mrs. Granger-Weasley's campaigns, or do you think perhaps we should not? You don't have to answer right away.
"Feel free to send me your thoughts and concerns. I'll read every one and answer any questions you may have," the healer announced, encouraging that they voice their opinions and ask their questions—how else would they come to a decision? Draco dismissed them, letting his staff talk amongst themselves as they prepared for their shift. He caught the ones leaving, giving them a similar speech, he was sure he'd have a very large stack of notifs before long. The wizard Disapparated some time later, showering and preparing to take the witch out once more for drinks—he thought perhaps he would check and see if the theme had changed or not.
Are we wanting to keep the theme the same? Or do we like the Gatsby scheme the club has for now?