Hello all, I decided to have the last chapter really set up things for the story, so this is somewhat the first chapter. I guess? Teehee. This is my first fanfic in a while, so I apologize for any shoddy grammar or iffy plot lines. I don't have a set release schedule, as my daily life is hectic. I'll update as often as my schedule allows. Thanks to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited! You guys are the best. I live for encouragement (tbh, what author doesn't). I hope to have this story up on AO3 soon for those who prefer to read it there. I will keep you all updated on that progress as it comes.
Enjoy ~
"You're coming Sunday, right?" Harry asked as they stopped outside Director Injin's office, jabbing a finger lightly in her side. Hermione chuckled and slapped him away, slightly rubbing her side.
"Pansy said the exact same thing. I'm starting to think you guys like to hang out with me or something," she said sarcastically. Harry shrugged.
"What can I say? The group is missing its know-it-all, plus you look absolutely drained, Mione. We're all worried about you. Maybe a day away from any work stuff would be good?" Harry's tone shifted to a mature, calming one. Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, massaging the area.
"Y'know, you're one to talk," she smirked at him. Harry smiled, pulling her into a hug, which she gratefully leaned into. Since Harry had become an Auror he was never available; the Ministry sent him all over the country for days at a time.
"I know, Mione," he said, pulling away from her and looking down at her. Goodness, he'd gotten to be tall. They hadn't much time to hang out as they did in school, so whenever she got to see him, it always shocked her to see how much he'd grown. The knobbly boy from Hogwarts was long gone; in his place stood a sturdy man. "I also know when to take a break, though…" he stated.
She pondered on this for a bit, biting her lower lip, and nodded slightly.
"You're right… I know you're right," she said simply. She adjusted her weight and glanced at Director Injin's closed office door. "Well," she breathed in, "time to face the music. Thank you for walking me. I supposed you need to get back downstairs?" she asked.
Harry put a hand on the back of his neck, resting his head on it.
"Unfortunately…" he nodded, his arm falling slack at his side again, "duty calls," he started to walk away. Hermione turned towards the Director's door.
"Mione," she turned back to Harry, "please, do come, if not for yourself, for us," he said hopefully.
"I'll be there, don't worry," she smiled. He returned the smile and disappeared down the stairwell.
"Time to face the music," Hermione muttered again as she stared at the door; the bright plaque reading Saoka Injin mocked her, and she rapped on the door. The door revealed Director Injin sitting at her desk, sealing a letter with a wax stamp. The Director lifted her eyes, a slight smirk appearing on her face.
"How kind of you to pick this up in person," she quipped, holding the sealed envelope out to Hermione. Hermione didn't grab it; she didn't need to; they both knew that she already knew what was in the letter.
"You know me, always excited to come to the Ministry." Hermione joked. Director Injin didn't find it funny.
"Dr. Granger, I'm not going to scold you. We both know it's unproductive and unnecessary. You're a smart witch, the smartest one I know, in fact, but I cannot allow this to keep going," Director Injin began as she gestured toward a chair in front of her desk. That is never a good sign. Director Injin never liked to have long meetings; she liked things short and to the point. Hermione took a seat and started to wring her hands, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Your grant is safe," Director Injin stated, the tension in the office evaporating suddenly. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but her posture remained rigid. "However, the committee is… disappointed with your lack of reports and no information on your newer patients. We both know you see too many patients to not have anything to report," she said. Hermione scoffed at this.
"Director, you know I don't do it 'cause I don't want to. It's vile. The committee nor anyone but these patients should be aware of what they're inflicted with. Ninety-nine percent of them are harmless and pose no threat to society. It's already stressful that they have to deal with these ailments. When the committee knows, they practically paint a target on these individuals as menaces to society!" Hermione felt herself get angry, her face getting hot, and her heart pounding in her ears.
Director Injin sat back in her chair, taking her glasses off and massaging her eyes. She had gotten a lot more gray since Hermione had last seen her, not just her hair, but her demeanor, beaten down by the Ministry, no doubt by Hermione's insubordination and constantly having to keep up with the continuously changing laws.
"Dr. Granger, I'm not having this discussion with you again, and by your continued usage of the same argument, you haven't been reading my letters, have you?" The Director inquired. Hermione bit her lower lip, her gaze dropping to her wringing hands; she shook her head.
"Well, now that I have you in my presence, let me catch you up on what you've been neglecting," The Director's words stung. Hermione Granger, the teacher's pet, always doing what needed to be done to please higher-ups, is now being scolded for the very thing she took pride in. "The committee has decided that stricter rules must be implemented should you want to keep your funding. This time I agreed with them."
Hermione felt her heart sink, and tears stung her eyes. Director Injin had always been on her side, a strong advocate for the rights of wizards and witches plagued with curses. Hermione admired her for that quality, not just some bureaucrat who was only in it for the paycheck and had holidays and weekends off. The fact that Injin was now siding with the committee was a tough pill for Hermione to swallow.
"I already know what's going through your head, "Director Injin, another corrupt bureaucrat, who sides with people who couldn't possibly understand how the world works," isn't it?" Injin asked. Hermione was always baffled by how the Director could see right through her all the time. Maybe she needed to quit wearing her heart on her sleeve so much.
"Please, do not fear. I know my telling you this doesn't help, but they left me no choice. I'm sure you like having your funding to continue helping these people. Many people disagree, but I'm still on your side: your work is admirable. Nothing in my mind has changed about that, and I'm proud of you that you keep putting up such a fight about this. It was either keep letting you slide and ignore the conditions and lose the funding or accept the new conditions and keep it," Director Injin sighed and waved her wand, a piece of paper slipped out of one of the many file cabinets in the office and landed in from of her.
"Unfortunately, as much as we both hate to do this kind of thing, they require me to outline the new terms and conditions with you," Injin readjusted her glasses and began reading the document.
Most of it was the same as the previous conditions: any patients seen by Hermione needed to be immediately reported and brought to the committee to determine if they required "special circumstances" or were unafflicted. Any afflicted patients needed to be flagged and brought to an ethics committee to deem if they were safe for society, needing rehabilitation, or, in extreme situations, death. There were a lot of other political things that bored Hermione. The only word that rang in her head was: injustice.
It was embarrassing that the magical world had such cruel and inhumane treatment of people who were just that. If someone has dementia, they aren't flagged or made a spectacle for people to be made aware of; they deal with it and live their lives as they should. Heaven forbid a werewolf to be shunned from society for something they can't help because it's something society doesn't understand or care to understand. People like Remus or Teddy because something just happens to plague them. The icing on the cake for that whole document was the referral of these people. Creatures. They called these people creatures and things.
"This is all the same stuff I've heard before," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. Director Injin shook her head and looked at the clock on the wall.
"The new terms aren't here yet, so I will make you aware of the new changes…." The Director paused and sighed, "the committee is now requiring a representative to be assigned to you to handle the patient reports and to keep them updated since you've neglected to do so," Hermione nearly exploded.
"They what?!" She exclaimed, jumping up out of her seat. Director Injin didn't move, and her demeanor remained neutral and professional.
"You left them no choice. I realize that this isn't ideal nor fair, but rules are rules, Dr. Granger," Injin stated. She glanced at the clock again.
"Let me guess, the representative is coming today to meet us?" Hermione fumed; the Director nodded, "what a joke, they aren't even on time, and you expect them to be able to handle my patients?" Hermione was shaking. The Director was about to speak when a knock on the door came. Hermione's head snapped in the direction of the door as it opened.
"You cannot be serious!" she exclaimed as none other than Draco fucking Malfoy walked through the door.
Except it wasn't the same Draco Malfoy, she was trapped with less than half an hour ago. This Malfoy wasn't being swallowed by his suit; he filled it out rather nicely. This Malfoy's skeleton wasn't staring her down; it was hidden underneath lean muscle. This Malfoy wasn't paper white, he was still pale, but Hermione couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't till her eyes locked on his that she knew it was him; his eyes were now wholly golden-amber, the same that peaked out from behind the black not long ago.
"Dr. Granger, Director Injin," he greeted them and made his way to the other chair, standing next to it.
"Representative Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you finally," Director Injin stood, extending her hand to him, he shook it, and she gestured to the chair next to Hermione. He smiled and sat next to her. Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging open like a fish; it wasn't till he turned to her that she clapped it shut. Something wasn't right. Did he have a gangly twin she was unaware of?
"We had just gone over the new conditions and your part in this new system. You are familiar with everything, correct?" Injin asked. Malfoy smiled and nodded.
"Of course, Director," he said in an oddly charming voice. Hermione shook her head and was about to say something, but Director Injin gave her a look that read: don't try me. We will talk later.
"Dr. Granger, you know of Representative Malfoy, is that right?" Injin asked; she smiled, but her eyes were hard. Hermione pushed down whatever anger had built up inside her; if the committee deemed a representative necessary and, of all people, it was Draco Malfoy, she had to be on her best behavior, lest her funding is taken away from her. She forced an unconvincing smile.
"Yes, Director," she said through her teeth, "we actually attended Hogwarts together," she looked over at Malfoy, who looked almost amused. She would've given anything to kick him in the shin and hex him into oblivion.
"Oh, perfect. I guess you don't need to introduce yourselves then. Let's finish up this boring bureaucratic stuff and enjoy our weekends, yes?" Injin clapped her hands together.
The rest of the meeting described the kind of work Malfoy would be doing with her and her clinic. He would gather the patient reports, go over them, bring them to the committee, and make sure all parties abide by the contract. It infuriated Hermione to no end.
"To finish this, I just need you both to sign the document, and you're free to go," Injin stated, giving Hermione a hard look again; Hermione pretended not to notice and nodded her head, smiling sweetly at back at her. Injin laid the contract in front of the two of them, placing a quill on top of it.
"Of course, Director Injin," Malfoy smiled, picking up the quill and scribbling his name on the designated line. He handed Hermione the quill, their fingertips brushing as it was transferred from his hand to hers; she nearly jerked her hand away from his. He was freezing. The room was rather cold, but he was like ice. She figured this meeting got her heated up enough that everything was cold. She scrawled her name on her designated line, cringing at how perfect his signature looked next to hers. Injin grabbed the document and signed her name on her designated line. The parchment scrolled itself up, a wax seal appearing immediately.
"Perfect, I'll walk this to our owlery immediately," Injin smiled at them both, "any further questions?"
Hermione had plenty, but Injin had made it clear she didn't want to argue anymore. She filed them away in her brain for next time, her fingers ceased wringing, and she stood up.
"No, thank you, Director," Hermione nearly spat. She turned to Malfoy.
"I can't wait to start working with you, Representative Malfoy," she lied, knowing that both Injin and Malfoy didn't believe her. She turned on her heel and fled the room.
She practically ran down the staircase, only stopping at the bottom to compose herself before entering the central atrium. Just when her life couldn't get more stressful, she now had to spend practically every day with her high school bully. What. A. Joke.
She needed a drink. Now. She began to head into the atrium when quick footsteps descended the stairs. She was once again faced with Draco fucking Malfoy. She gave him a hard stare, and he looked almost apologetic.
"Not a word, Malfoy," she spat, "I'm so not interested," she turned and began to leave the stairwell.
"Granger, wait," he chased after her, his hand grabbing her arm, she attempted to yank it free, but his grip was solid and unyielding.
"Let me go!" she exclaimed, fruitlessly yanking her arm in every direction. He wasn't budging. She began to huff and puff, tears spiking her eyes again.
"Please, let me explain-" Malfoy insisted.
"Explain what? Why you're here to ruin my life again? Taking away my work and jeopardizing people's lives?! They need me, and I won't allow you to take it away from me because the committee thinks what I do is a joke," Hermione began to cry. Malfoy released her arm finally, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. She stared at it and all its pristine glory. She scoffed and snatched it from him, making no attempt to hide her contaminating it with her muggle-born tears and snot. He didn't seem to notice; he was just looking at her pitifully.
"Granger, I'm not here to ruin your life," she gave him a nasty look, "I swear, the committee deemed me a good choice to oversee your work because of our established rapport, y'know, attending Hogwarts and all…." Malfoy said, chuckling slightly, "I know we haven't been on good terms, but I'm willing to work with you. You just have to trust me," she scoffed again.
"As if! I'll play nice 'cause you're a new obstacle between me and my funding, but I will never trust you, Draco Malfoy," she bunched up the handkerchief and shoved it in her pocket. She'd rather throw it in his face but couldn't bring herself to do it. She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands and marched into the atrium.
Malfoy strode alongside her, his long legs easily keeping up with her brisk walking. She shot him another nasty look.
"Wouldn't want to of lied to the "fearsome security guard" now would we?" he teased. She nearly started to cry again.
"Ms. Granger," a voice called out; Hermione stopped in the middle of the atrium, the clicking of heels from her right.
Honestly, fuck today. Hermione thought, reminding herself this was one of the reasons she never came to the Ministry.
Marietta Edgecombe made her way over to the two of them.
"And Draco Malfoy, truly a surprise, well not really, the committee sure has a dark sense of humor, don't they?" she mused. Marietta Edgecombe held a grudge. That grudge came in the form of every law that made Hermione's life a living hell. She was the founder of The Witches and Wizards Protection Act Against Undesirables. Protection, it had always made Hermione scoff.
Marietta's main claim to fame was questioning their safety to the public since Voldemort's reign of terror and coincidentally a day after Hermione had opened her clinic. Since Voldemort's army consisted of vampires, werewolves, giants, and other creatures, they had been subjected to and scrutinized by the wizarding society even more. Hermione thought the bill would never be passed, but it was met with unanimous applause and passed almost immediately. Who knew the Ministry would still be full of bigots?
"It's still Doctor," Hermione smiled sourly.
"Right, of course. My bad, Doctor," Marietta mocked.
"What do you want?" Hermione asked, too drained to even care what she had to say.
"Oh, nothing, just not every day you see the Golden Girl at the Ministry. I wanted to congratulate you on keeping your funding. Heaven knows if anyone had neglected the rules as much as you have, the committee would've dropped them immediately. I guess shagging the boy who lived has its perks," Marietta shrugged. Hermione pumped her hand into a fist repeatedly and ground her teeth.
"Thank you," Hermione said through her teeth, a smile plastered on her face.
"Of course," Marietta frowned and nodded sympathetically, rubbing Hermione's forearm. "Always a pleasure talking to you," she smiled sweetly and began clicking away.
Hermione felt the tears roll down her cheeks, and Malfoy stared between Hermione and Marietta.
"Hey, Edgecombe!" he called out when Marietta was about three meters away.
Marietta turned and gave him a puzzled look.
"Got enough foundation on? I swear from here, I can see something sneaking out from underneath it," he smiled at her, gesturing to her cheeks.
Marietta scoffed and continued walking away, but Hermione swore she saw Marietta cower under her clipboard slightly.
Malfoy turned to Hermione, who was swiping her cheeks with her sleeves; he didn't say anything; he just placed his hand on her back and began leading her to the security gate. She shrugged his hand off her as they approached and took a deep breath.
"Hullo, Charles!" she exclaimed happily, almost convincing herself, "I returned with Mr. Malfoy, as promised," she said, gesturing to Malfoy theatrically. Charles didn't recognize Malfoy when he glanced over at him and frowned.
The small security wizard quickly turned back to Hermione, smiled, and clapped approvingly. "Excellent, my dear, just excellent!"
"I'll admit I was a bit worried when the alarms went off immediately as soon as you were out of sight," he shuddered.
Hermione hugged the wizard, "all good here; thank you for looking out for me."
Charles blushed and wished her well, still frowning at Malfoy.
"Dr. Granger," she heard Malfoy; she just shook her head.
"Still not interested, Malfoy," and she walked away from him; this time, he didn't follow.