Chapter 3

"There he is." Luna poked her arm like every time they studied the thread connections in other levels of the Ministry and Cormac crossed their paths. Every time Hermione spotted the blond -unaware- wizard, her eyes would quickly travel to their rope-like connection, witnessing it was still there, joining them.

Why? Why him? After her shocking discovery, Hermione kept an eye on him.

Cormac McLaggen hadn't physically changed much after Hogwarts, except he now wore his hair shorter, the blond-honeyed stubborn hair she knew was there barely visible. Though his body was that of a man, not a teenager anymore. His deep laughter, his tenacious hazel eyes, squared chin and smug pace were still there, along with that bright silver thread that connected them and didn't seem to be planning to disappear.

Every time Hermione saw the braided, sparkling, thin rope, it made her so anxious she could feel her heart pounding nervously at the unknown prospect of what it entailed. No, it wasn't nervousness. It was frenzy agitation like those dreams where she would run towards an exam only to not find the door. And when the idea of sharing a thread with McLaggen got her to an 'almost-panic-attack' state, she would repeat Luna's words like a mantra: it could mean anything.

Was he still an arrogant prat? McLaggen did seem like it but years had passed. Yes, they had all grown. Matured. He wasn't seventeen anymore, nor was she sixteen.

Under hundreds of flickering candles that illuminated their office, Luna voiced their questions. "If you don't approach him," wondered Luna, her voice dreamy as she played with her purple quill, "I wonder if he will? Destiny or coincidence? Planned or unplanned?"

Hermione shrugged from her uncomfortable chair, unsure, as she always felt whenever Cormac and their connection were involved.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," Luna said, causing chills to creep down Hermione's spine.

With long-time-learned patience, Hermione held her curiosity and didn't approach him. Time would answer their question. But to her surprise, she didn't have to wait for long, an interdepartmental memo swiftly flapping its wings above her wooden desk the next morning; its colour, a pale green, the preferred for Minister Kingsley Shaklebolt's paper communication.

Hermione hopped and grabbed it, opening it immediately. She then stayed still for long minutes, her mind going through different scenarios and missing the slow grin on Luna's curious face.

"When?" asked Luna.

"Today at noon," muttered Hermione before she heavily sighed. "Do you think it's related?"

Luna opened her mouth to answer but thought it better and closed it. She then gave her friend an inquisitive look.

"Why are you so afraid of the connection?"

Hermione bit her lower lip and let herself down on her chair, groaning. Luna hadn't lost her ability to make the right comments or questions at the right time. One had to learn to accept them.

"Because…" Hermione started to meticulously organize the numerous articles on her desk, "I feel pressured. I'm not ready!"

Luna stayed still, her eyes asking her questions but waiting for her to continue. Hermione's hands froze on her desk, scared. For the first time since he betrayed her, she would word her feelings.

"I don't want love, Luna. It makes you vulnerable. People use it to hurt."

Luna's compassionate eyes remained on Hermione.

"The connection can mean anything, it doesn't have to be romantic," Luna said. "He could be… your future best friend… just start mentioning it to Ron and Harry so they're not surprised when you dump them," Luna commented as a matter of factly.

"Not possible," Hermione chuckled. "You know they would barge into my flat demanding the title. They won't lose it without a fight."

Luna nodded, her eyes at the charmed window from where bright sunlight came in. A frown marred her forehead. "Hmm…They're protective of you but they'll understand as long as you're happy. But you have to choose to be happy, Hermione." Luna then smiled again, "Maybe Cormac is a really good baker? I would ask him to be my best friend if he bakes me the best ginger snaps."

"Wouldn't Rolf mind?"

"I don't reckon he would. He loves ginger snaps as well."

Feeling better, Hermione let a heavy breath out. "Thanks Luna," she smiled and decided to start her day, "so, what have you found on the effects of the love potion on the threads?"

By noon sharp, Hermione entered the Minister's office in quick steps, causing a proud smile on who had become her mentor. Kingsley Shaklebolt had been Minister for four years now, esteemed by most members of the Wizengamot and society. He had given a much-needed cleanup to most Departments but most importantly, he would pass to history as the one who controlled the dementors after they killed his predecessor, elder Madame Marchbanks during a cauldron shopping spree. She had been too slow to cast her Patronus as she held the discounted silver cauldrons she had bought.

"I have a petition for you, one that I believe will have a great impact in the wizarding world," Kingsley kindly said once they were both seated with a cup of tea.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and waited while Madame Marchbanks's portrait behind him yawned as she held a silver cauldron. Shaklebolt continued as if confiding in her, "Three days ago, Cormac McLaggen presented an ambitious plan for amending Code 12R and introducing a new Anti-corruption Statute."

Her heart started pounding. This was it. The reason why their thread had revived. She cleared her sudden, dry throat.

"Code 12 R is the Wizengamot Trial Representation Code, and a new anti-corruption law? But those are…"

"Yes. I must confess that those were goals I had when I became Minister, heavily influenced by what I learned while working in Downing Street and what had happened during that last year of the war, but after years of peace and general wellbeing… I'm ashamed to accept that I focused on mending what the Death Eaters had done and protecting our society from dementors, not on improving what is there, even after what happened to you. I believe the time has come for those reforms and will propose them at the next Wizengamot meeting. He is willing to work part-time on the reforms, but, I'm afraid Mr McLaggen will not be able to make it."

"Why not?"

"Because he has a political mind, Hermione. He is a politician as he proved while explaining his plan, not a law reformer… much like his uncle. He needs a team that will work on what he lacks. However, the budget for this year has passed…"

"Kingsley, why have you called me here?" She should not have felt enerved by the Minister, but she was. More when a sly smile made an appearance on his face.

"I want you to partner with him. I specifically want you to draft the amendment and new law. It has to have your signature on it. The impact on our society…"

"I have a job, you know?" she interrupted, "One that I love and that you approved. Magical Law in British wizarding society is outdated and unfair at its best, that's why I left…"

"And that is why I need you there alongside Mister McLaggen. You have the opportunity to mend it, or at least start someplace. His connections are what you need to start again. You couldn't do it alone and neither can he."

Hermione took a moment to ponder his proposal. What if she said no? Would the thread weaken or disappear? For a second, she considered the option of rejecting it. And yet, at the thought, Hermione could not stop her eyes from going to where it flickered over her knees before circling her, sliding on the old Persian carpet, and getting out of the office through the closed adorned door.

Her mind, however, reminded her of the importance of such reforms. If they were successful, the impact would be far-reaching. Of course, she couldn't reject it.

"I will not stop doing my research. I'm in the middle of a breakthrough that will hopefully open new lines of knowledge…" As she unconsciously accepted, one particular thread happily shined, almost as if being fed. She missed it, however, focused on the conversation as she was.

"Yes. Yes. Of course, you'll be accordingly compensated." Kingsley said, "It's only temporary, until next term."

"Six months tops, Kingsley."

The Minister sighed, relieved, and leaned back as Madame Marchbanks nodded in support. The fire from the near hearth crackled at that moment.

"You need each other, Hermione. And it should be done if we really care for our future." He stopped to carefully sip his tea, and Hermione couldn't shake the feeling he was preparing an attack. "You know, you will always have your place at the DMLE. Once you finish your research, you can come back. I'll need time to prepare you so the Wizengamot elects you when I retire..."

"Kingsley, Harry would be a better successor than I. We both know this. Politically speaking, he has more weight in our society. Even if people don't like him, he is still the boy who lived and won. I'm a muggle-born and people tend to dislike me… or betray me." She muttered those last words.

Kingsley Shaklebolt shook his head and ignored her last comment.

"You are better suited for the political mind than he is. I've told you before. You need learning to do, like delegating and building a good team that represents you. But, everything in its own time. Now… I've assigned meeting room D in the dungeons, near the old courtrooms, for your and Mr McLaggen's use. And I've already talked with your Head about it as well, in case you need more time. He wasn't happy, but I'm sure you'll handle it."

She almost scoffed. Head Croaker was a perfectionist, workaholic boss that expected no less from her. So, this meant that for the foreseeable future she would be less at home and sleep deprived.

"Does McLaggen know of my involvement? I don't want unpleasant surprises."

"Only that I would assign someone to work with him part-time. Honestly, Hermione, you are a force! You are worth three experts in Magical Law."

Hermione finally relented.

"Fine. When can I meet him?"

"As soon as you like. He started working there this morning."

Her eyes, however, dropped to her hands on her lap before she forced a fake smile.

"I just have one more question… Kingsley… do you think… do you think I can trust him?" Hermione ignored her sudden sweaty hands.

The Minister, after watching her closely with something close to pity and understanding, heavily exhaled. "I honestly don't know. He has a good record and is in good esteem by most in the Wizengamot having worked for the Administration Services for the last six years. But then again, this experience will help you learn to be careful… and maybe trust again."

With a swish of his wand, the tea service disappeared. The meeting was over. "The next Wizengamot meeting isn't scheduled yet. A draft of the amendment will be needed, however, for when it meets. The new Statute can come after. It will not be easy, however. You both will have to convince and gain the pure-blood votes."

And with a promise of visiting them for Harry's birthday, he sent her away.

Walking toward the elevators, her mind was elsewhere, so she missed the wizard that came out of the elevator once its doors opened. Hermione bumped straight into his chest.

"I'm terribly so…" Hermione started, but stopped as soon as she recognized a grimace she knew well, "Mr Malfoy…" Hermione took a step backwards and pursed her lips, chin high.

"Miss Granger…" Lucius Malfoy started compulsively dusting his perfect grey robes, his face deformed between a scowl and a sneer. Before he could pronounce his usual hateful words, however, she attacked.

"You still have soot from the floo?" she fakely grimaced now, calmly dusting herself as well as she admonished, "You've forgotten Mr Malfoy, a quick spell will do after floo travelling. You're a wizard, you know?" And with that, she quickly continued towards the elevator before it closed, leaving the blond wizard blushing in anger.

Ah, things hadn't changed much since her Hogwarts years. True, mud-blood was now a forbidden word, but those who would have mentioned it continued discriminating in the shadows, acting like they owned the Ministry, bribing and corrupting, placing their own in strategic positions.

Suddenly, her decision to help McLaggen made her feel powerful. She clenched her fists as she neared the DOM Black wooden door, but then smiled, imagining the blow it would give to the pure-blood structure such amendments to Code 12R and a new Anti-Corruption Statute. It would be an act of perfect revenge.

Luna stopped prepping rose petals on their brewing table as soon as she saw Hermione enter. She smiled when Hermione bit her lower lip.

"Oh! We don't know if the thread came first!" Luna excitedly exclaimed summoning a notebook, quill and inkpot, taking notes immediately.

"Yes. Though it's a relief to know it's a colleague relationship, not a romantic one." Hermione seated on a stool, next to Luna who turned to observe Hermione's threads.

"Mmm, however, there are clear differences compared to your colleagues'. I dare say it has developed a more intricate pattern since an hour ago," Luna voiced and gave her a half-smile.

"You're right," Hermione felt like gulping while she observed it, "the C-thread has now a similar pattern to yours. It changed, after my meeting."

"C-thread?" Luna asked as she tried to draw the pattern on her notes.

"It needs a name."

"Of course it does. I've been calling mine 'wolfy', it rhymes! What did our Minister want to discuss by the way?" Luna asked, immersed again in her drawing.

"I'll start working with McLaggen after I finish here. He needs my help drafting some amendments and laws on trial representation and anti-corruption measures."

"Mmmm. Finally, Shaklebolt seems to be rid of the nargles. This is the first good decision he's made in years," Luna muttered, halfway focused on the lines being drawn on the notebook.

So after her brief stop at the DOM, and leaving a thrilled Luna writing new hypotheses and theories for the threads, she exited through the black door and turned right towards the old court chambers, a torch-lit stone passage that she had walked in that ghastly but key day when she had gone with Umbridge to record a trial.

What were Cormac's motives? Why that amendment specifically? And that law? It was amusing and unsettling to think both suited her revenge quite well.

For the second time after exiting the DOM, Hermione checked her grey robe and hair were presentable and shook away all her jitters as she opened the heavy wooden door that creaked as she pushed it.

A round table occupied with mountains of parchments took much of the dimly lit, cold stone room, with a couple of empty bookshelves adorning one of the walls.

Hazel eyes looked up at her from a four-feet long parchment. A charming, if not presumptuous, smile formed as Cormac recognized her.

"Hermione Granger, golden princess!" He smirked from his simple wooden chair, "I was wondering to whom that firm pace belonged."

"McLaggen." Hermione gave him her fake, political smile, the one she had learned from the Slytherins back in the IMC, before closing the door and walking towards the chair across from his, holding its back.

The dim light coming from the torches flickered and Hermione thought she would have to conjure more light if she was going to work there.

"Well?" he pompously smirked again, "to what do I owe the infinite pleasure of your presence?"

She had to remind herself he didn't know she had been assigned to work with him. It was now her turn to chuckle.

"I believe you are in dire need of a saviour?"

His smile faded as well as his pretentious demeanour, dropping the long parchment he was reading before it rolled itself.

"You? The Minister assigned you?" He stood and approached her, his hands in his trousers pockets. Hermione could not avoid the brief, very brief, admiration for his tall physique framed by a well-cut plum robe. "So the Minister believes in this project. He took you out of your other dungeon and important research to work for me."

"Work with you. Not for you." She snapped. His eyes gleamed. Did he say that on purpose?

"Of course. My mistake," he replied, entertained.

"I have experience with Muggle and Wizarding Laws that the Minister considers will help this project. And I won't stop working as an Unspeakable. I'm in the middle of a breakthrough, you see. So I'll come here after I finish at the DOM." Hermione pushed her eyeglasses. Now she understood Harry on a whole new level.

Cormac's eyebrows raised, impressed.

"You're working extra hours to help this project?" he asked.

"As you said, the Minister believes in you, and I, for my part, am curious about your take on these reforms."

"That's two jobs you're talking about. Curiosity killed the cat. Did you know, princess?" He teased.

"The mind is a fire to be kindled."

"Plutarch," he said. Her eyes quickly travelled back to him only to see that a smug smile had made an appearance on his face.

"How…?" She mumbled.

"He was a wizard that worked in the Temple of Apollo. I grew up listening about ancient wizarding cultures, especially the Greek and Roman. My uncle is utterly fascinated by them." Pompous came short when she tried to describe his tone.

And yet, for a moment, Hermione felt impressed by his knowledge. "I accept I'm not familiar with the wizarding Greek and Roman cultures."

"If you're interested, I'd be happy to show you my library."

It wasn't his comment but his tone that made all the positive points he had achieved during this brief encounter fly out an imaginary window. Cormac had never been shy nor withdrawn, a demanding presence that was arrogant and conceited back in Hogwarts.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"For heaven's sake, you haven't changed, and I haven't either." She raised her index finger, a serious tone that erased his smirk and playful gleam, "If I ever feel you cross a line, McLaggen, I won't hesitate to slap you like I did in sixth year, or jinx you if necessary."

His hands were up, palms facing her, but still managed to grin at her.

"Fair enough, Granger. Though I did look for you after you slapped me to apologise. Please excuse my seventeen-year-old obnoxious and, may I reveal, inexperienced self."

"Inexperienced?" She raised one of her eyebrows. Really?

"Not on dates, of course, but you never knew that as you slapped me right before anything interesting happened," he said, "but in treating respectfully a lady."

Well, maybe a point had come back from the imaginary window. That point caused a conciliatory half-smile after remembering how he had avoided her afterwards.

Cormac relaxed and took back his seat, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. Watching him now, it was interesting how after so many years, that memory made her want to laugh. Maybe he had matured, just a tiny bit.

"Has our magnanimous Minister informed you when he will summon the next Wizengamot?" His eyes were analyzing the now unrolled parchment again.

"No. He hasn't, but this year's assembly hasn't been called. I'm assuming we do not have much time because he did tell me to focus on the amendment," she said.

"Hhmm… Let's start working then." He searched and arranged some of the rolled parchments that lay over the table, immediately giving them to her. "This is all I've got about the present Code on Representation during wizarding trials before the war… and these ones…" Cormac took two neat leathered books that read 1998 and 1999 on their covers respectively, "are records from during the war." She noticed his voice was heavy with something she couldn't define. And then Hermione remembered he had full-timed worked until this morning in the Wizengamot Administrations Services. Had he recorded these ones?

"Nothing much has changed since then, so I didn't bring the recent ones. But now that you're here, I'll be sure to bring them tomorrow from my other office."

Hermione nodded and trailed off as she waved her wand to conjure more torches that immediately surrounded them with warm light, a trick Mrs Thomas from maintenance taught them.

"Good thinking. Maybe you can show me later?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Not included in your Greek and Roman lectures, is it?"

"My uncle doesn't have time for these trifling nuances."

By his tone, she wasn't sure if he was being serious or not, but just in case she scoffed.

During the next days she carefully read the files, occasionally stealing inquisitive glances at him. He normally discarded his Wizengamot robes and silently read and took notes with his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, every now and then commenting on something that had grabbed his attention. His musk perfume pleasingly engulfed every corner of the office though thankfully, it wasn't the one she delighted on in the Love Room.

Gladly amazed by his company's studious and calmed atmosphere -interrupted by occasional self-important comments- she focused on what she had sworn never to read again: magical law papers. But knowing it would change something that had impacted her greatly... Oh, revenge was fun!

A/N: Hello everyone. So, six chapters left in this short and light story. What are you thinking so far? Let me know in the comments. Don't forget to review or subscribe if you want to know how it ends. Hopefully, grammarly is doing its beta work correctly. Cheers!