"Hermione, you've been reassigned."
Hermione Granger, age 23, looked up blankly from her cubicle. Hogwarts' best student was working in the Ministry of Magic in a lowly not-even- secretarial job.
"You are now in cubicle number.1042. Pack up and have fun," the weathered- looking man said to her. He moved on to his next assignment.
'Still a cubicle,' thought Hermione, 'what excitement.'
She picked up her lone manilla folder on her desk, her tote bag and proceeded to move.
To the outside observer, Hermione would look like any other member of the workforce. She wore a smart pinstriped blazer, matching A-line skirt, sheer stockings, and a form-fitting white blouse underneath. Black stiletto pumps completed the outfit, along with her perfectly pink manicured nails. Her makeup was disturbingly understated, nothing flashy at all, and very understated. She looked, well, professional.
Hermione's professional heels clacked against the marble floor as she searched for her cubicle. At last, she found it. Top floor.who would've guessed. Evidently she had been promoted.
She dropped her folder on her new desk and pushed her bag to the side of her cubicle. Just as she was eyeing her newly sharpened quills and fresh inkpot with pleasure, her next door neighbor poked her head in.
"Are you Hermione Granger?" she asked in a friendly tone.
"Yes, and you might be.?"
"Emily Scotting," said her neighbor, extending a hand out.
Hermione shook her hand warmly. "Pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine. Do you know anything about your new job?"
"Actually, I don't. Mind briefing me?"
"Well, you're the secretary for the new Minister of Magic. Out with the old, in with the new!" Emily said in an almost frightening cheery voice. "Which reminds me, he wanted to see you."
"I guess I'd better go, then. Do you know which is his office?"
"Big emerald doors right next to you."
Hermione looked left and jumped back a smidge. She hadn't even seen the huge doors that now looked so foreboding to her. "See you in a bit." Hermione said hesitantly.
"Oh, he's really nice, don't worry. And cute," she finished with a giggle.
Hermione gave a lopsided smile and took a deep breath before knocking. The doors opened majestically as soon as she knocked. Timidly, she began to walk in and the doors closed just as mysteriously behind her. After a few steps she realized that there was a heavy green curtain. Cautiously, she pulled the curtain back and walked through.
Hermione cleared her throat and asked, "Hello?"
"Hello," came the response. The owner of the voice sat at the desk at the end of the room. He lifted his head and looked at her. He smiled and motioned to one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat."
"Er, thank you." She walked up to the chair and sat down, smoothing her skirt as she went down.
"Hermione, am I correct?" he extended his hand.
Hermione extended hers as well. "Yes, very nice to meet you." she glanced quickly as the gold name plaque on the desk. Draco M. Malfoy, Minister of Magic. "DRACO??"
Now she understood why he looked so familiar and why he had that familiar smirk and.it was all clicking into place.
"Who did you think I was?" he asked with a grin as he shook her hand.
She snatched her hand away and looked at him with shock. "How are.how.Minister of Magic?"
"Ye-es.is there something wrong?" He was acting way too calm for the current situation.
She stood up haughtily. "I think there's been a mistake in my re- assignment. I'll go straighten this out right away." Hermione turned on her heel and began to walk.
"No, I requested you."
She stopped cold in her tracks. "You what?"
"I requested you." Draco stood up as well and walked towards her as well. He walked up behind her traced her arm with a finger lightly. "I've missed you so much, Hermione." he whispered huskily in her ear.
Buried memories all began flooding back to her; the graduation ball, the prefects' bathroom late at night, the astronomy tower, the final train ride home. She shook her head furiously in an effort to clear her mind of those images.
"You never attempted to contact me otherwise." Hermione stiffened as he touched her.
"Don't be so sure. You seem to have more protection spells on your house than this building does."
Hermione couldn't help but leak out a smile. Harry had gone a little paranoid with the protection spells. "You never know what kind of weirdos lurk out there," he had said.
"One can never be too safe." "It almost seemed like you were avoiding me," he said in a hurt tone.
"No.it wasn't that.I-" Hermione couldn't find the words. She walked out.
Emily was busily scratching out a memorandum when Hermione plopped into her chair.
"How'd it go? And isn't he simply the hottest man to walk this building?" she gurgled.
"Er, yea, sure. Listen, I'm going to have to leave early today, could you cover for me?" Hermione asked, grabbing her bag.
"Of course. Going home?"
"Yeah, I don't feel all too well."
"Alright, get some rest."
Hermione smiled weakly. "Thanks. See you tomorrow."
Once she was back at home in her vine-covered brownstone, a few blocks away from the Ministry building, Hermione had changed into a pair of old jeans, fluffy slippers, and a white tee-shirt.
After dinner, she was relaxing with a cup of tea on her couch, contentedly watching television and stroking Crookshanks when there was a knock on the door.
She put her tea on the coffee table in front of her and shuffled to the door. Crookshanks bolted to her customary position atop the bookcase whenever a visitor came.
Hermione opened the door to reveal Draco, wrapped up in a black trench and bearing a bouquet of yellow roses.
"Draco.what are you doing here? And how did you even find me here?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Thought I'd drop by for a chat. And company records. Very useful things." He smirked. "So.am I allowed in?"
Hermione came to her senses again. "Oh! Er, of course. Can I get you some tea?"
Draco hung his coat up and handed the flowers to Hermione. "That'd be great," he said gratefully.
"Why don't you come into the kitchen," Hermione said, leading the way.
The kitchen was a friendly little nook to be in, as Draco soon realized. It was decorated with little knick-knacks and warm touches of home. Hermione put the roses in a vase and placed it on the breakfast table while she poured the tea into a cup. As he sipped it graciously, conversation began to flow.
"So, where have you been all these years?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Doing this and that. You heard about my father I'm sure-"
"Yeah.I'm very sorry." Hermione had heard of Lucius Malfoy's murder by Voldemort. Although she never liked him, she had felt horrible for Draco.
"Don't be. It's in the past. Anyway, after my father's death I started to work for the Ministry of Magic, and I guess I just advanced so quickly that they kept promoting me until this."
"Must be nice," said Hermione wistfully.
"How about you?"
"I was training to become an Auror and then I was pretty badly wounded in battle once. I wasn't able to return so now I'm working in the Ministry."
"What happened?"
"We were on a raid. I probably wasn't thinking or something, but I had positioned myself incorrectly and I got hit directly in the heart with a colerus coeura. A very well done one, too, even thought I don't like to admit it. I still have little spells every now and then, I'm never going to be completely better."
"Wow.I had no idea." He took another sip. "Listen, about the secretary thing, I only requested you because I wanted to be near you. It wasn't anything-"
"No, don't worry about it. I don't mind working underneath you, so, just."
He cautiously placed a hand over hers. She looked up at him and smiled. She gently squeezed his hand.
"So, everything's OK between us?"
"Yeah. It's OK."
Hermione Granger, age 23, looked up blankly from her cubicle. Hogwarts' best student was working in the Ministry of Magic in a lowly not-even- secretarial job.
"You are now in cubicle number.1042. Pack up and have fun," the weathered- looking man said to her. He moved on to his next assignment.
'Still a cubicle,' thought Hermione, 'what excitement.'
She picked up her lone manilla folder on her desk, her tote bag and proceeded to move.
To the outside observer, Hermione would look like any other member of the workforce. She wore a smart pinstriped blazer, matching A-line skirt, sheer stockings, and a form-fitting white blouse underneath. Black stiletto pumps completed the outfit, along with her perfectly pink manicured nails. Her makeup was disturbingly understated, nothing flashy at all, and very understated. She looked, well, professional.
Hermione's professional heels clacked against the marble floor as she searched for her cubicle. At last, she found it. Top floor.who would've guessed. Evidently she had been promoted.
She dropped her folder on her new desk and pushed her bag to the side of her cubicle. Just as she was eyeing her newly sharpened quills and fresh inkpot with pleasure, her next door neighbor poked her head in.
"Are you Hermione Granger?" she asked in a friendly tone.
"Yes, and you might be.?"
"Emily Scotting," said her neighbor, extending a hand out.
Hermione shook her hand warmly. "Pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine. Do you know anything about your new job?"
"Actually, I don't. Mind briefing me?"
"Well, you're the secretary for the new Minister of Magic. Out with the old, in with the new!" Emily said in an almost frightening cheery voice. "Which reminds me, he wanted to see you."
"I guess I'd better go, then. Do you know which is his office?"
"Big emerald doors right next to you."
Hermione looked left and jumped back a smidge. She hadn't even seen the huge doors that now looked so foreboding to her. "See you in a bit." Hermione said hesitantly.
"Oh, he's really nice, don't worry. And cute," she finished with a giggle.
Hermione gave a lopsided smile and took a deep breath before knocking. The doors opened majestically as soon as she knocked. Timidly, she began to walk in and the doors closed just as mysteriously behind her. After a few steps she realized that there was a heavy green curtain. Cautiously, she pulled the curtain back and walked through.
Hermione cleared her throat and asked, "Hello?"
"Hello," came the response. The owner of the voice sat at the desk at the end of the room. He lifted his head and looked at her. He smiled and motioned to one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat."
"Er, thank you." She walked up to the chair and sat down, smoothing her skirt as she went down.
"Hermione, am I correct?" he extended his hand.
Hermione extended hers as well. "Yes, very nice to meet you." she glanced quickly as the gold name plaque on the desk. Draco M. Malfoy, Minister of Magic. "DRACO??"
Now she understood why he looked so familiar and why he had that familiar smirk and.it was all clicking into place.
"Who did you think I was?" he asked with a grin as he shook her hand.
She snatched her hand away and looked at him with shock. "How are.how.Minister of Magic?"
"Ye-es.is there something wrong?" He was acting way too calm for the current situation.
She stood up haughtily. "I think there's been a mistake in my re- assignment. I'll go straighten this out right away." Hermione turned on her heel and began to walk.
"No, I requested you."
She stopped cold in her tracks. "You what?"
"I requested you." Draco stood up as well and walked towards her as well. He walked up behind her traced her arm with a finger lightly. "I've missed you so much, Hermione." he whispered huskily in her ear.
Buried memories all began flooding back to her; the graduation ball, the prefects' bathroom late at night, the astronomy tower, the final train ride home. She shook her head furiously in an effort to clear her mind of those images.
"You never attempted to contact me otherwise." Hermione stiffened as he touched her.
"Don't be so sure. You seem to have more protection spells on your house than this building does."
Hermione couldn't help but leak out a smile. Harry had gone a little paranoid with the protection spells. "You never know what kind of weirdos lurk out there," he had said.
"One can never be too safe." "It almost seemed like you were avoiding me," he said in a hurt tone.
"No.it wasn't that.I-" Hermione couldn't find the words. She walked out.
Emily was busily scratching out a memorandum when Hermione plopped into her chair.
"How'd it go? And isn't he simply the hottest man to walk this building?" she gurgled.
"Er, yea, sure. Listen, I'm going to have to leave early today, could you cover for me?" Hermione asked, grabbing her bag.
"Of course. Going home?"
"Yeah, I don't feel all too well."
"Alright, get some rest."
Hermione smiled weakly. "Thanks. See you tomorrow."
Once she was back at home in her vine-covered brownstone, a few blocks away from the Ministry building, Hermione had changed into a pair of old jeans, fluffy slippers, and a white tee-shirt.
After dinner, she was relaxing with a cup of tea on her couch, contentedly watching television and stroking Crookshanks when there was a knock on the door.
She put her tea on the coffee table in front of her and shuffled to the door. Crookshanks bolted to her customary position atop the bookcase whenever a visitor came.
Hermione opened the door to reveal Draco, wrapped up in a black trench and bearing a bouquet of yellow roses.
"Draco.what are you doing here? And how did you even find me here?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Thought I'd drop by for a chat. And company records. Very useful things." He smirked. "So.am I allowed in?"
Hermione came to her senses again. "Oh! Er, of course. Can I get you some tea?"
Draco hung his coat up and handed the flowers to Hermione. "That'd be great," he said gratefully.
"Why don't you come into the kitchen," Hermione said, leading the way.
The kitchen was a friendly little nook to be in, as Draco soon realized. It was decorated with little knick-knacks and warm touches of home. Hermione put the roses in a vase and placed it on the breakfast table while she poured the tea into a cup. As he sipped it graciously, conversation began to flow.
"So, where have you been all these years?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Doing this and that. You heard about my father I'm sure-"
"Yeah.I'm very sorry." Hermione had heard of Lucius Malfoy's murder by Voldemort. Although she never liked him, she had felt horrible for Draco.
"Don't be. It's in the past. Anyway, after my father's death I started to work for the Ministry of Magic, and I guess I just advanced so quickly that they kept promoting me until this."
"Must be nice," said Hermione wistfully.
"How about you?"
"I was training to become an Auror and then I was pretty badly wounded in battle once. I wasn't able to return so now I'm working in the Ministry."
"What happened?"
"We were on a raid. I probably wasn't thinking or something, but I had positioned myself incorrectly and I got hit directly in the heart with a colerus coeura. A very well done one, too, even thought I don't like to admit it. I still have little spells every now and then, I'm never going to be completely better."
"Wow.I had no idea." He took another sip. "Listen, about the secretary thing, I only requested you because I wanted to be near you. It wasn't anything-"
"No, don't worry about it. I don't mind working underneath you, so, just."
He cautiously placed a hand over hers. She looked up at him and smiled. She gently squeezed his hand.
"So, everything's OK between us?"
"Yeah. It's OK."