Hermione stepped out onto the uneven cobblestone street that was Diagon Alley, wrapping her scarlett colored cloak around herself to keep out the chill that was just now beginning to take presence in the October air. She had just placed an order at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, knowing good and well that she was in desperate need of a few new sets of dress robes. Her new job at the Ministry was going to require it, after all.
After the Battle of Hogwarts, and the restoration of the school had begun under Minerva McGonagall's watchful yet optimistic eye, it was time for Hermione and the rest of the Golden Trio to go their separate ways. While Harry and Ron were more than ecstatic to begin their training as Aurors, Hermione knew that there was something more waiting for her outside the suddenly small feeling community that was Wizarding Britain. She wanted more for herself; and so she went for it.
Expenses were less than an issue, seeing as Hermione Jean Granger was the brightest witch of her age. With all the publicity surrounding her and the boy's journey to defeating Voldemort and destroying the horcruxes, there had suddenly always been no less than six owls awaiting her at her flat every afternoon from writers and reporters wanting to hear her tale. It eventually got to the point where she had to hire a solicitor, Mr. Franklin Whittlesbeak, to provide services in decreasing public appearance requests and die-hard fan stalking. There was a price list put into place when it came to media outlets, (an especially hefty one for Rita Skeeter, duly noted) and Hermione used the funds from the requests to explore the world that she had been itching to see since she was eleven.
Her first order of travel was getting to Australia, where she did something that she always hoped and prayed she could; restoring her parents' memories. Thanks to much research, a properly brewed potion and a steady hand, the young witch was able to restore the memories of her existence to the people who she treasured most in this world. Monica and Wendall Wilkins slowly faded back into Todd and Evelyn Granger, who were more than delighted to be holding their tousled hair, nineteen year old witch of a daughter in their arms. After everything in Australia had been tidied up, her parents were back living happily in their home, rebuilding their dentistry practice and connecting with old friends.
Though even then, the young witch felt that there was more to this world to see. With the help of Mr. Whittlesbeak, and her parents, she planned a tour through Europe and some of Asia. Visiting places she had only read about in books, Hermione explored with a vigor and thirst for knowledge had always been hindered by the looming threat of a sadistic wizarding lord threatening those who she held closest. She was now free to explore the world, as she should, with no limitations or ideals. She worked with Charlie Weasley in Romania, learning about dragons and their care. The Delacour family graciously hosted her in the south of France, where she learned many things from Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle, including a whole host of manners that seemed to be the normal in the Delacour household.
She saw the works of great Muggle artists in museums in Rome and Barcelona. She walked through the stunning streets of Prague, and visited the libraries of Munich. Hermione traveled through Hong Kong, exploring the cuisine and culture like a madwoman. She met many interesting wizards, witches, and creatures along the way, all who taught her new and exciting things that increased the vast amount of knowledge in her constantly brewing brain. But now the time had come for Hermione to return to her roots, and to begin solving the problems that had remained unsolved for too long.
Looking down the gold colored face of the watch on her left wrist, Hermione realized that it was closely nearing four o'clock, which meant she only had a few hours before Gringotts closed for the day. She needed to deposit a check into her vault, seeing as Mr. Whittlesbeak had only owled it to her that morning. Hermione hated having idle checks in her pocket, especially one of this sizable amount. The fee for Rita Skeeter's tell all book had arrived, and Hermione wanted to make sure that every penny of that ridiculous women's fee was in her vault by the end of the week.
Making her way down the street, she turned to face the large marble building. Looking up, Hermione sighed. While she appreciated the work and dedication that the Goblins did to keep Gringotts in tip top shape, they had always had a lack of respect for her, it seemed. Maybe it was because of her heritage, or maybe because she had broken into their vaults before, but performing transactions at the bank had always been a least favorite chore of hers. But knowing that her income was more important than her pride, Hermione entered the building with a saddled grimace.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank was an architectural marvel within itself. With its soaring ceilings and beautiful mosaic floors, you could become lost in the radiance of its beauty. But Hermione knew better than to get caught up in the splendor of her surroundings, and headed straight for an empty teller. Looking around, she did notice a few witches and wizards going about their own business on that Friday afternoon. She did not see any familiar faces, thankfully, and no one seemed to recognize her own, which was an even bigger plus.
Approaching the Goblin who sat above her in a tall desk, Hermione read his name plate to be Grepken. The older Goblin was impeccably dressed, as were all the tellers to his right and his left. With a quill in his gnarled hand, he reached down to deposit the piece of paper he had been writing on, before looking up at the young witch that stood in front of him.
"State your business." Grepken gruffly spoke, and Hermione fished the note of deposit from her bag, handing it to the disgruntled Goblin with a small smile.
"I need to deposit this into vault 1026. The name is Granger." Hermione tried to speak confidently. She was a member of the Golden Trio, for Gordric's sake. But the Goblins of Gringotts always made the hair on the back of her neck stand up in anxiousness.
"Please place your wand on the scale for identification." Grepken rumbled, and Hermione did as she was instructed, withdrawing the vine wood wand from the pockets of her robe, and placing it on the elevated bronze scale before her.
After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ollivander had crafted a new wand for Hermione, and wands for the rest of the Golden Trio. They were exact copies of their previous wands, except now boasted special golden inscriptions on the handles. Each sequence of runes represented the wand's wielder, and only the owner of each wand could read the runes that were engraved. It was something special to remind each of the Golden Trio that they were special in their own individual ways; not just as a team. Such a sentiment meant the world to Hermione, and she cherished the wand deeply.
"There seems to be an issue of identification. Please present your vault key." Grepken huffed, and Hermione shuffled around in her bag. Removing the golden key from it's velvet pouch, she slowly handed it to the grouchy goblin, who promptly placed it into an opening to identify it's owner.
It was strange that her wand had been denied identification. There had never been an issue with it before. Whatever could it be? Hermione wondered to herself, waiting patiently for her vault key to be approved. But when a red burst of light emitted from the key, Grepken gave her a haughty look.
"There seems to be a claim against your vault, Ms. Granger." Grepken spoke, and Hermione gave him a confused glance. What in the world would be preventing her from opening her own vault?
"What kind of claim is it?" Hermione timidly asked, hoping it was something clerical that she could quickly fix before going on her way. She did not need this right now, especially since she was expected to pay bills and rent in the next few upcoming weeks.
"This is an old magic claim, and one that I have not seen in a long time. It is called a Dotis Nomine Claim, and it seems that it was put onto your vault yesterday. There seems to be a list of requirements that must be met before the claim can be lifted." Grepken explained, and instantly began translating the Latin in her head. When she finally put the pieces together, a cold shock fell over her.
"A dowry claim?" Hermione asked quietly, and Grepnek nodded. Who on Godric's green earth would put a dowry claim on my vault? She questioned herself.
"Can you tell me who placed the claim against me?" Hermione instantly asked the Goblin, who willingly obliged. After shuffling a few things around, he wrote down the name of the conspirator and a few other things before returning his attention to the young witch.
"On the Dotis Nomine Claim no. 765, the vault of Hermione Jean Granger has been put on hold pending an investigation into said claim. The claim has been taken out against Vault 1026 by one Lucius Abraxas Malfoy." Grepken announced, and a look of horror filled the young witch's face.
Lucius Malfoy had taken out a Dotis Nomine claim against her, a Muggle-born. A dowry claim. Whatever for? Hermione thought to herself, before turning back to the Goblin.
"How do I get rid of this claim?" She asked, panic starting to set in. Grepken gave her an impassive stare, before handing her a pile of parchment.
"All claims are given to the bank. All discussions and negotiations are handled by the family's solicitors. Farewell, Ms. Granger." Grepken shoved her wand and key back into her hands, before motioning his teller window curtains closed.
Hermione stood there frozen, for what seemed to be hours, before a polite older witch bumped into her and startled her from her haze. Gathering everything she had been given from Grepken, Hermione carefully placed everything into her enchanted bag. Straightening herself and gathering her wits, Hermione began formulating a plan to figure out what in the founder's name was going on. She had to call Mr. Whittlesbeak, Harry, and everyone else she could think of. This was an emergency of the highest order.
Though, in her haste to remove herself from the suddenly squashing vastness of Gringotts, Hermione was not as observant as she usually was. Had she been, she would have noticed the young Malfoy heir, tucked into the side of the room, watching her with cold eyes.
Draco Malfoy had changed since his time on the battlefield, and by correlation, his time at Hogwarts. He now dressed like a young man of prestige, with tailored black dress robes that accentuated his lean, yet toned body. His once slicked back ice blond locks were now a bit unruly, kept longer with a bit of wave, now hitting the nape of his neck. It was put back in a small, yet orderly knot. His black hawthorn wand was tucked into the pocket of his dress robes. The Malfoy signet ring stood proudly on his left hand; his Slytherin ring on his right. He had grown taller, and the boyish look of his school days had faded away into the rugged Malfoy handsomeness that he had known to inherit from Lucius himself.
He watched Hermione with a sense of knowing. Knowing what was to come for the brightest young witch of their age, and what was to come for himself. How much the future of plans he had for her was nothing like she had ever imagined. For once, Draco was the one with all the answers to Granger's problems, and she was the answer to his. Though the worst part was, to him at least, was that he needed her more than she needed him.