Hermione Granger can't believe it. For the first time in her career, her entire life, even, she's late. Incredibly bloody late.

Feeling eyes on her as she sprints towards the apparition point, a deep root of overwhelming panic squeezes her stomach into knots. Overwhelmingly so.

This was most definitely not how she envisioned her day going, to be quite honest.

Taking a deep breath and a brief pause to ensure her mind is clear, she focuses on the ministry apparition point as perfectly as she can muster. Feeling the familiar yet entirely unpleasant tug behind her navel, she apparates.

Once the atrium comes into view and stops wobbling, she chances another look at her watch.

Bugger.

She is so late.

To a meeting with not only her superiors but her entire flipping department, no less.

Said thought has her pulse jittering in her veins and she races through the ministry atrium, a small pearling of sweat on her brow. There is no doubt in her mind that she doesn't look a right mess (more so than normal, she admits reluctantly).

She's practically skidding past the reception desk now, barely sparing the receptionist, Mary, a glance, although she is resolutely sure she catches a look of unbridled surprise on Mary's pinched face as she races by.

Hermione almost, very almost, turns back to the desk with an overwhelming need to explain her lack of punctuality. She is never late.

"It's not my fault!" She wants to cry.

As it so happens, it really is not Hermione's fault she's late. In fact, she could have - would have been on time as usual if it wasn't for the bloody vet opening later than expected and taking an extraordinary amount of time to complete a routine check-up on Crooks.

The ministry atrium is almost entirely empty, a stark contrast to the intense hustle and bustle Hermione would usually be experiencing if she were on time. No, as it was considerably past rush hour, the atrium was sparse aside from herself and a few other stragglers.

She spots one of the lifts opening across the way and makes a mad dash towards it, sure she can make it.

Most definitely. She'd make it to the lift in time. Positive thinking is the key to success, right?

Today won't get worse. She will make it. Everything will be fine.

Ironically, Hermione finds herself bounding straight into something at this exact moment, falling unceremoniously onto her arse.

Cursing loudly at the bruised feeling in her coccyx at the impact, her eyes grow wide as she sees her scrolls and pieces of parchment fluttering as they whirl through the air and land around her in a mess.

"Oh bollocks," she exclaims, immediately pushing herself to her feet and righting herself. Throwing her cardigan over her arm haphazardly, she begins picking up several scrolls to stuff into her satchel.

"What the fuck, Granger-" A voice.

In her haste, she'd entirely missed that she had bumped into someone, and not something as she originally thought.

Her eyes shoot upwards and catch onto the grey orbs of Draco Malfoy's, who looks none too pleased. He eyes her with a clear look of disdain, not an entirely unfamiliar look on him at all. Shock of blond, tousled hair, sharp pointed features and a classic pressed grey suit with matching Auror robes, Malfoy looks as he always does when she has the misfortune of interacting with him at the ministry.

Except-

Except currently, his shirt, his "most-definitely-an-entire-month's-worth-of-wages" shirt is drenched in what appears to be coffee. A paper coffee cup is clasped in his one hand, crushed. The lid is on the floor, next to his dragonhide dress shoes.

Realisation dawns on her.

"Fuck," she says, her first thought and her only, stupid thought is to resolve the situation by dabbing at Malfoy's shirt with the cardigan she's clinging to.

It is coffee. The smell is entirely everywhere as she dabs at the stain. Of course. Of course she'd further ruin her morning by-

Hermione feels suddenly disembodied as Malfoy lightly grips her arms - the first time he has ever, ever touched her deliberately - and pushes her a step away from himself.

"You know," he says, "for the 'brightest witch of our age', you are astoundingly mindless."

At first, Hermione is baffled, her brain taking an extra moment to catch up, and then she is opening her mouth to retort at his clearly snide remark when her eyes zero in on his hand as it slides inside his robes.

He briskly pulls out his wand and casts an impressively quick cleaning charm on himself.

Oh. Oh.

Hermione feels her cheeks heat. Malfoy straightens out his now perfectly immaculate shirt, eyeing her with an inscrutable expression.

She clears her throat.

"I'm sorry for ruining your coffee," she says quickly, bending to pull her satchel onto her shoulder and gather the last of her scrolls.

She stops again, though, as her eyes flicker toward a rather ruined looking green apple about a meter away from them. It's clearly Malfoy's, she's never seen anyone actually eat an apple for breakfast before, other than him-

A loud beeping interrupts the silence, echoing in the large, almost empty atrium. Hermione realises it's her watch, reminding her rather rudely of her ever increasing lateness.

Bollocks. Bollocks. Bollocks.

Taking a stuttering breath, she stuffs the last scroll into her satchel. Ignores Malfoy swiftly banishing the ruined apple in her peripheral vision. Feels guilty. Only slightly guilty.

"Right," she says, turning back toward the lifts, "I've got to go so-"

"Aren't you forgetting something, Granger?" he says, cutting her off. She looks at him briefly, her eyes met only with a passive expression. Wonders briefly if he's aware of his occluding or if he does it instinctively-

"What?" she asks, impatiently beginning to stalk toward the lifts. She really did not have time for this.

"I would have thought one of the golden trio would have some common decency to apologise,"

Hermione stops. And she can tell from his voice that there's a quirk of a smirk on his lips. Can tell he is trying to goad her, to mess with her.

"I just did," she huffs, once again taking a step towards the lift.

"Not for the apple," Malfoy states, coming to block her path, clearly ignoring the incredulous expression that is working its way onto her face.

"I will not be playing your games today, Malfoy," she retorts, and although his usual, perfectly blank mask is plastered on his face, the sides of his lips quirk. So he is trying to mess with her. Again. What a twat.

Hermione briefly considers pushing back, refusing to apologise a second time for something so utterly infinitesimal. But she can't afford to waste more time here, waste more time on their continued feud, waste more time on him, not this morning.

"Sorry, Malfoy," she replies curtly, with as much false politeness as she can muster, pushing past him to get to the lift she had originally been heading towards, "I've got to go, but I'll make sure to do the decent thing- here,"

She tosses a few sickles at him as the lift doors open, "for the coffee," she clarifies.

Turning on her heel and stepping into the lift, Hermione feels pride well up in her chest that she hasn't risen to his childish bait this time.

Feels an immense satisfaction as the metal grate closes between them and his smooth expression flickers, peeved.

Her watch beeps again.

Feels suddenly entirely flustered again about being so late.

So bloody late.

"It could have been worse, I suppose," Hermione admits to Harry later that day as they grab lunch at their favourite cafè.

Harry looks thoughtful for a moment, dark brows furrowed.

"Yeah, of course it could have," he says. "You could have fallen flat on your face on your way to the meeting, I heard you were seen frantically skidding across the atrium-".

Hermione blanches. Harry smirks behind his cup of tea.

"I forgot how quickly gossip travels," she responds with a grimace, then takes a bite of her ham and cheese bagel.

"I didn't fall on my face,". She admits, feeling her cheeks heat, "but I did fall flat on my arse."

At her words, Harry stops breaking apart his croissant.

"Please, please explain," he says, gesturing far too eagerly with his hand for her to continue. Hermione scowls at him.

"You can't leave me hanging, 'Mione," he says, his classic smirk bubbling to the surface.

"I actually ran head first into Malfoy," she admits, feeling both amused and embarrassed in equal measure. "Made him spill coffee all over himself".

Harry snorts and then tries (and fails) to compose himself when he sees the look on her face.

"Don't laugh, it was awful" she protests, but can't conceal her own smile as she bats at his arm across the table. "Even made him drop his food, it was mortifying".

After a moment, Harry seems to have mostly composed himself. He goes back to pulling his croissant apart.

"What did Malfoy say about it?".

"Honestly, not very much," Hermione replies, thinking back. "The twat tried to goad me again, though".

"Of course he did," Harry says, rolling his eyes, "honestly, the two of you are like children-"

"Says you," she retorts, and he smiles brilliantly at her.

"Takes one to know one," he replies, his eyes creasing as he smirks, "that's how I know you're both being foolish."

Hermione resists the urge to bat at her friend again, instead shaking her head.

"He just has this way of getting under my skin," she says, matter of factly, "I don't know how you can work with him."

Harry stops chewing and dusts the croissant crumbs off of his fingers.

"He's been very decent towards me and everyone else on my team" Harry says after a pause."I don't think he's quite the same prat that he used to be".

Hermione scoffs.

"I beg to differ, he's always a prat when he comes down to Creatures".

"Somehow I have a feeling that isn't just his fault," Harry gives her cursory glance. "I heard he had to see a healer after you blew him up last month".

Hermione looks at Harry incredulously.

"I did not blow him up, for a start" she begins. Harry goes back to pulling his croissant apart. "I simply used a wind charm to blow him out of my office".

Harry gets the look on his face that says he's both amused and about to start scolding her, so Hermione rushes on.

"Granted, it was a bit rash, and I used maybe a little more force than necessary" she exclaims, "but Malfoy is still a prat, maybe not 100% anymore, according to you, but still a prat".

"I would say it's more like 50% prat," Harry replies.

Hermione laughs. "More like 90%".

At that, Harry grins at her and says "70% prat, that's my final offer, take it or leave it".

Hermione throws out her hand for dramatic effect. "All right, deal". Harry gives her a firm handshake. "Malfoy is 70% prat".

They both laugh then, full hearted and strong. Hermione really loved spending her lunch break with Harry. They didn't have as much time nowadays, especially with Harry being an Auror, but they had lunch together like this a few times each week and that was enough for Hermione.

"Maybe you should try to get along with Malfoy a little more," Harry says after a minute or two of content silence. Before Hermione can retort (which she is most definitely going to do), he continues, dropping his elbows onto the table and leaning in. "You don't need to apologise, per se, but I've heard down the grapevine that there's a case-".

The mention of a case has her intrigued, and so Hermione leans in, too.

"A case?"

"Yes," Harry is whispering now, "I heard from Humphries that the DMLE is going to need major help from the Beast Division on a case, and since I'm backlogged with the Death Eater roundup-"

Hermione narrows her eyes, not at all liking where this is going.

"They wouldn't,"

"They might not have a choice, Hermione," Harry looks at her sheepishly, "No one on your end has enough experience, and everyone but Malfoy has been working through the informants-"

"Harry-"

"Look, it might not happen," Harry continues, his voice going from a soft whisper back to a normal tone, leaning back in his seat, "But I reckon you'll want to be on decent enough footing with Malfoy if you want to impress Sturgis."

Hermione chews on the last bite of her bagel. She ponders for a moment. Harry did make some sense. She had a performance review for work in a few weeks time, and she really didn't need a feud with Malfoy to get in the way of anything.

"Maybe I will," she says finally, and tries to ignore the look of relief that washes over Harry's face. Tries not to sniff with indignation. Her feud with Malfoy isn't that bad. Harry finishes off his croissant and takes another swig of his tea.

They sit in silence for a while, Hermione gazing out of the window at the passersby. She feels content, a stark contrast to how she felt earlier this morning, that's for sure.

"Ron will be back this weekend," Harry says slowly, as if approaching a wild animal.

Hermione lifts the Cappuccino mug to her lips hoping it will hide her face and the clear set of contempt she knows Harry will see, tries to smooth over the tension building in her shoulders at the mention of her ex.

"I know you said you don't want to see him, but it's for Gin's birthday and we'd really like for you to come" Harry says, his eyes pleading. "Please come, for Ginny. She wants you there".

Hermione exhales slowly. She thought she would have more time, but she should have expected he would come back soon, come back for his sister's birthday.

"I'll come, for a bit," she says after a moment. "For Ginny."

Harry smiles at her, his green eyes full. "I'll make sure Ron is on his best behaviour," he promises.

Hermione resists the urge to roll her eyes. If Malfoy was currently 70% on the prat scale, Ron was most definitely at 90%. Their breakup had been awful, and Hermione found herself reeling and aggravated after every subsequent interaction with the ginger.

She had tried, at first, to be civil, to be friendly, but Ron- He was not pleasant, constantly bringing up how well he was doing as the keeper for whatever bloody quidditch team he was playing for now, and when he'd had too much to drink, he'd badger her about how they never really had closure.

He lashed out because he felt scorned, she knew. But she couldn't quite bring herself to be around him, not anymore.

Harry must see something in her expression, and he reaches for her hand across the table. She looks at him with what she knows is an exceptional amount of strain.

"I know it's not been the best, but I'll always be here for you, 'Mione," he says, squeezing her hand. "You're my best friend."

There is so much honesty in his emerald eyes that it makes Hermione's heart constrict.

Bright and early the next morning, Hermione walks towards her usual apparition point, feeling alert even at such an early hour. The fresh August air breezes across her face in a welcoming embrace. Ecstatic that she's early and most definitely not in any rush this morning, she pauses briefly outside of a new Cafe.

Perhaps this morning is a celebration morning, considering how well received her presentation was the previous day. Even with her being so uncharacteristically late, she'd succeeded.

It wasn't her usual cafe, but this one felt artisanal. Different.

After entering, she notes that it's quite a small, cosy little place, welcomed by the autumn tones of the interior. As she stands in the queue, Hermione decides on an iced coffee, considering the oncoming August heat, and a rather delicious looking Raspberry muffin.

As her eyes cascade over the rest of the display, she stills. On the counter is a wicker basket filled with an assortment of fruits. Peaches, bananas, grapes, and even- even green apples.

Curious.

She is momentarily pulled back to her conversation with Harry at lunch.

Perhaps-

Perhaps she could replace the apple she ruined and consider herself and Malfoy even. Perhaps even use it as a catalyst to smooth things over. Perhaps, even, get along.

Hermione almost laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. No, she doesn't need to appease Malfoy. It's his own choice to be so consistently insufferable.

As the queue shortens, Hermione finds herself looking directly at the apples.

But, Harry was right. She needed to impress Sturgis. A new approved member of the committee, Sturgis was essentially her boss. Her boss and a roadblock on the path of completion on any of her proposals.

It wasn't a secret, either. Her feud with Malfoy. Especially not after the incident in her office last month. Hermione blanches.

And if what Harry had said is correct- if the DMLE sent Malfoy to work with her on a case, Sturgis would be watching. They all would.

If this one small deed was the key to success, and not being reprimanded for bad behaviour towards colleagues, namely Malfoy, she should do it. It wouldn't hurt right?

It's just an apple, for Merlin's sake. To make amends for something she knew she could have handled better. Several somethings, in fact.

"Hi there! What can I get for you today?" The spritely barista asks.

Wrangling with her sudden internal debate, Hermione grabs the apple and holds it with the tips of her fingers, as if it might scold her.

It's just an apple. What harm could it do?