Authors Note: Hello again. New chapter up! Read it and weep my friends 8).

'Dirty Work'

The Job

Hermione appeared in no less than a second within the walls of the Ministry of Magic with a tiny pop. All around her people were scurrying and moving along, fireplaces choking out ash-covered people. She remembered that she had departed from Ron a tiny bit grumpy this morning, and thinking about it did not lighten up her mood.

It seemed every now and then, since Harry's death, Ron was worrying about her non-stop. The minute someone would openly talk about it, his eyes would go wide open, and he'd change the subject, giving Hermione worried glances. She was sure that he'd told people not to talk about it as much as possible, and although his intentions were good, Hermione didn't need that sort of protection all the time. She wanted to think about it, and she wanted to talk about it, no matter how much it hurt. If she talked about it more, and thought about it enough, she could maybe accept it, but it never seemed to work.

A paper airplane zoomed passed her, narrowly missing her hair. She ran straight for the closest elevator going upwards and covered her head as she did so.

Hermione just made it, as it began to close right when she ran in. It was completely jam-packed with other wizards and floating paper airplanes, waiting to get on the floor of their delivery. She was squished to the right corner of the elevator, a few wizards blocking her way from the buttons to press that would take you to your desired floor.

Lightly, she tapped the man standing closest to it, and said quietly, "Floor 25, please?" The man nodded at her politely and pushed the button reading "F25."

When she finally got onto floor 25, where she usually worked, she shuffled hurriedly out of the elevator, not wanting it to close as she was getting out.

Hermione walked slowly, with her briefcase at her side, hoping to stall before she began her dreaded work. Many people were walking passed her, mostly her co-workers, giving her a quick smile, which she hastily returned, no matter her mood.

A stout man came running up beside her, glasses askew and a huge folder in his arms.

"Miss Granger, this message just flew in. Read it, write it, publish it. Due A.S.A.P., just don't take your time." The man said simply.

"Do I have to, Donald? I've got other reports and events I need to write up. Surely some of the other reporters can do this?" She asked desperately. Her workload was indeed, very high.

The man gave her a skeptical look. "No, this is a job for you. The other journalists are on the simple jobs, we need you and only you for this."

She gave him a weak smile. "Oh, alright."

"You're a pal," he said, winking at her, and he walked away quickly, for he had other messages to deliver. She looked at his back, scowling as he walked away. As if she were the only one good enough for the job. It was probably another pointless topic to write about, and it wasn't going to help if it added to her work pile.

After a short time of more walking, the paper clutched tightly in her hands, Hermione walked passed her secretary, and threw her a sweet smile.

"Any messages this morning, Daisy?" She asked from a tall woman, who was wearing a flower covered business top. Hermione began unbuttoning her cloak a little.

"Just a few, Miss Granger," she answered, while looking down at her notes, "Mister Weasley says he'll be waiting for you at Pearly White's Patio Spot for lunch, he may or may not be late, depending on how busy the hospital is." Hermione nodded and told her to continue. "And another is from Mister Hanks," she went on, "he says he would like you to please read the message from Donald, as soon as possible."

"That's it?"

"For now, Miss Granger." She smiled lightly.

"Alright. Thank you, Delilah," and off she went, walking into her own office, big enough for 5 queen-sized beds.

She dropped her briefcase beside her large office desk and hung up her coat on the coat hanger which stood by the door. Hermione tucked herself in to her desk and opened up many folders on her desk and began flipping through them. She took out report after report and read them over, checking if they were ready to be sent in for the upcoming Daily Prophets. After doing so, she set them aside, and opened up the message she was given by Donald. For sure it was a new topic for her to write on the paper.

Hermione,

Upcoming Charity Ball for war victims. Organizer is in need for publicity and advertisement through Daily Prophet. Report to Task Preperation Room on F56 for more instruction.

Always,
Gerald Hanks, Head of the Ministry Journalists or Reporters for the Advertising or Uncovering of Special Events Department and Editor for the Daily Prophet

Hermione let out a large sigh. Not another huge report. She'd done so many before, and although she was one of the best reporters and journalists for the ministry, the wizarding world just took no interest in whatever was happening. They were still too busy recovering from the war, and they weren't going to pay any attention to the tabloids or the papers writing about more pointless things.

This was good though. A Charity Ball, made to fundraise money for the war victims. Now, this was a good idea. This would actually get people's attention, and what was left of the wealthy people will definitely go to help put order back in the wizarding world.

Whoever is planning this must be really smart, Hermione thought. At a time like this, everyone could use a little fun, and what's more, a little order back in their lives. He must be very thoughtful, the way he conjured up this idea. He's a people-person, probably. She was looking forward to working with this organizer by the minute.

Wasting no time, Hermione scribbled up a note onto a piece of parchment, saying she was on her way, and sent it flying off in the form of a paper airplane, off to the Task Preperation Room. She packed up her suitcase and dashed out of her office, ready for the job she was now so willing to do.

It took Hermione at least 10 minutes before she got to floor 56. It was so high up in the building, and there were so many stops on the elevator. By the time she arrived she was very impatient and puffed up, as she rushed her way all the way up.

Hermione opened the door reading "Task Preperation," and peeked inside. It was all covered in mahogany, and there was one large round table, that took up half the room. Chairs were tucked in all around it but none of the seats were taken. She took a step inside and looked around once more, checking if she missed anyone, because she thought some people must have been waiting for her.

"Hello, Miss Granger. You may take a seat." Said a voice out of no where. Hermione jumped inwardly and looked to the furthest side of the round table, and saw a tall man in mahogany robes. No wonder she couldn't see him. The colour of his cloak fit perfectly with the walls.

"Gerald!" She exclaimed. "You frightened me." The man laughed a little at this statement. He must have noticed that she looked surprised when she walked in.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to frighten you." He gave her a sweet smile. "Once again, take a seat." He nodded politely to the chair beside him.

"Yes, sir." She answered, and strode lightly towards him, tucking herself. Hermione looked around the room. It was just Gerald, her boss, in the room. But he wasn't the one in need for advertisement. She didn't understand. Shouldn't someone else be in there?

"Sir, where is the organizer for this event? Surely he would be here so that I may introduce myself and discuss the plans of advertisment with him?" Hermione asked the moment she realized this.

The man named Gerald nodded understandingly. "He will be here in a moment. He informed me that he might be a tad bit late. In the mean time, I will explain to you what you are to do, but the organizer will give you more specifics."

"Oh, I see."

"Yes, now if you will, pay close attention."

Hermione quickly took out a parchment, quill and a bottle of ink, so that she could begin taking notes. Gerald waited a moment for her to get prepared for his instruction and then began to speak. "The Ministry of Magic will be holding a Charity Ball, and we would like you to advertise it and give it publicity through your reports on the Prophet. It is important that this is given full coverage, for the organizer demanded that it be so. Do not take lightly the importance of this article. This will be the first event since the war."

He stopped to see if Hermione understood him so far. She nodded once and he continued. "This will probably be the social event of the year, as it will mark a sort of new beginning to the wizarding world. It is the first sign of recovery from the war. Don't forget to mention that in your first article." He warned, and Hermione scribbled it down on the parchment.

"We want a weekly update on what's going on for this Charity Ball in the Prophet. We don't want people just reading it once and forgetting about it. We want them reading it all the time, every week, thinking about it 24/7. This means that you need to write something new about it every week, and that's going to be pretty hard. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, Mister Hanks, I can handle it. You can trust me with this report." She said convincingly. He smiled at her and clapped his hands together. "I don't know what else there is to tell you, other than the fact that this needs to be milked through and through, Hermione. The organizer has the rest of the information, and he'll be here sooner or later..." He glanced at his watch.

"Do you have any questions, Hermione?" Gerald said, looking up from his watch.

"Yes, sir. Just a couple. Will I be working alongside the organizer the entire time?"

"Not if you don't want to," he said jokingly.

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't understand, sir."

"Well, you'll have to be with him all the time if you want to get anything good on this report, don't you? You can't just ask him what his plans are and scribble it down. You have to be with him every moment he's planning it, so you can get the full coverage."

She nodded. "Is he an experienced organizer?"

Gerald laughed heartily. "Oh, seeing as this is being rumoured amongst the ministry to be the social event of the year, you'd think it was being planned by someone experienced, isn't that right?" He continuned to chuckle. Hermione didn't seem to realize what was so funny. "He's no experienced party planner, let me tell you that. Although, his parents held many banquets and balls, so he may have learned some planning skills from them."

"His parents planned banquets? So you mean to tell me he's rich?"

"Rich? That's an understatement! When his father went wrong, being the only son and heir to his family name, all the money went to him. Now, isn't that something?"

Hermione nodded and smiled as if she just understood a joke. She couldn't help but recognize or think that this organizer was someone she knew. Incredibly wealthy, only son, evil father? That sounded just a tad bit too familiar to Hermione.

"Has he planned a date?"

"No, he has not."

"How long will this article take to write, approximately?"

"Up until the ball itself, of course!"

"I see."

"Anymore questions, Miss Granger?" Hermione shook her head in reply. "Alright. So until then, I suggest you stay here and wait for him." Gerald stood up, and began buttoning up his cloak. "Make this a good one, Hermione. I'm trusting you with it."

"No problem, sir, it's in good hands."

"That's my girl. Now, he'll be here in a minute or so, so just be patient - ah! Nevermind, here he is!"

Gerald, who was already facing the door, walked right up to it, and fully opened it.

As if on cue, the door opened slightly, and Hermione turned around to see who it was. She caught a glimpse of golden hair.
"Ah, nice to see you, my old friend!" Gerald greeted. A blond man with slicked back hair, wearing a leather cloak and carrying a large briefcase came striding in, shaking Gerald's hands. Gerald, being such a tall, pompous man, was completely covering the organizer from view.

"Very good to see you too, Gerald." Hermione had heard that voice before. It had been so long since she's heard it though. It sounded mature, and smooth. It flowed with every word. "I'm sorry I'm late. I suppose you got my message?"

"Of course, no bother! You're here now! Take a seat won't you?"

"Thank you, Gerald. Is the journalist here?" Every word he was speaking sounded familiar. The name of the man who owned that voice was at the tip of Hermione's tongue. She was dreading to find out who it was though, for some odd reason.

"Ah, yes, she is. Right this way, Mister Malfoy!"

Hermione's mouth dropped. Gerald finally moved out of the way, so that she could take a good look at this man. He was beautifully matured now but very intimidating in the looks department. Hermione couldn't believe it. The blond haired boy she had known and despised from school was standing right before her.

"Miss Granger," Gerald chimed in, "I would like to introduce you to Mister Draco Malfoy, the organizer and host of this Charity Ball!"

Hermione instantly stood up. Her ink bottle fell on the table and started leaking out. Her mouth was slightly parted and she was caught in utter shock. This man, of all people, would basically be her business partner? How did this happen?

Draco Malfoy, finally noticing her, stopped in his tracks with a slightly surprised look. He wasn't as dumbfounded as she, but he was certainly caught off guard. He watched her from where he was, and was able to notice that Hermione had a completely shocked look on her. Draco, after giving her a long, unnoticeable astouned look, seemed to recover first.

He smirked slightly, recuperating, and started walking towards her. Hermione took just one tiny step back. For some reason, nothing was escaping her lips. Gerald, the pompous man, did not notice the kind of tension between Draco and Hermione. He was too slow to see Hermione's eyes were slightly narrowed and her lips were tightly pursed.

Once Draco got to her, he oustretched his open palm. He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. Although he was smirking, Hermione couldn't help but think he was lightly biting his tongue. She looked down on his open palm with disgust.

He growled slightly, "Hello, Hermione. Nice to see you again."

Working alongside an enemy? Oh bother.

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TBC.

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A/N: Yes, i know it's not enough DMHG yet, but its coming! just you wait! and by the way, should i mention AGAIN that the more reviews i get the faster i update? hehe.

and if youre just DYING to find out what happens next chapter, just review, and if you beg enough, i'll put it up as quick as i can xD.

Yours always,
Sevengee/Lina