"Granger! Hold the lift for me." Draco Malfoy called out across the lobby, as he strode towards the elevator.

Hermione Granger looked up when she heard her name, turning her head in his direction. Their gaze met across the distance and her eyes narrowed for a second when she saw who had called to her. Granger straightened her back and resolutely did nothing as the lift doors started to close. Draco rushed forward to catch it in time, only for it to shut directly in his face as she looked at him through wide, falsely innocent eyes and the smallest possible smirk — before the lift doors closed, and she was gone.

Right.

Granger was still pissed.

Draco pressed the button for the lift, running his hand through his platinum hair and feeling frazzled. He had barely slept the night before, and he had been late leaving the Manor this morning. He had felt out of step with the world from the moment he opened his eyes. The blasted letter from his mother had completely destroyed his equilibrium. And it didn't help that Granger was still being unreasonably petty with him because the department project assignments weren't to her liking.

As if Draco was the one in charge, instead of just another Wizagenmot clerk. He didn't decide which files landed with any given clerk in Wizagenmot support — that was the purview of their Department Head. And it was his decision to give the most prestigious assignment in the office to Draco. Draco, on the other hand, was just doing as he was told.

Granger used to be polite enough to him around the office. She was reserved and somewhat standoffish towards him, which given their complicated history wasn't just understandable so much as it was to be expected. They weren't friends. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But their working relationship as clerks who shared an office had been collegial enough. Or at least, it had been collegial before the Wolfsbane legislation project had been handed over to him, despite Granger's strenuous objections. She had followed after their boss when she found out, her nose screwed up, an absolute picture of flustered agitation as she made her case passionately to Mr. Perkins; detailing why she was best suited to solicit support from the various members of the Wizengamot before the matter was brought to the floor for a vote.

Yes, Granger had caught Draco smirking to himself during her indignant display. Yes, she had ink on her nose when she did it, and it made her all the more amusing. No, he hadn't done anything to anybody to compel Perkins to give him the file. Draco hadn't asked for this legislation to land on his desk, but he understood Perkin's reason for giving it to him and he was going to see the job done to the best of his abilities. And that very reasonable stance had turned their almost détente back into full-fledged hatred. From Granger, at least.

Draco had done nothing wrong. Certainly, he had no intention of stooping to her level and taking out his frustrations on a blameless colleague. Ever since the Wolfsbane initiative was given to Draco to oversee, he had run out of ink halfway through every day. That had never happened to him before and now it happened five days in a row. He'd taken to checking the ink level at the start of the day and despite starting of full, it was gone by noon. It's not like he was writing any more than normal. Especially not since he also kept losing quills — another new phenomena since Granger lost her pet project. She had also stopped speaking to him entirely, except when it was critical for their job. Even though they were the only two people who worked in the same physical office. She wasn't exactly chatty before but the complete silence that occurred now in their shared small space was deafening.

"Bloody minded witch ought to take it up with Perkins," Draco grumbled under his breath as he got into the newly arrived lift and hit the floor for his department. He sighed. It already felt like it had been a long day and it hadn't even properly started yet! And he was still stewing about his mother's bloody letter, which was currently burning a hole in both his mind and the pocket of his robes.

He never, ever would have believed that Narcissa Black Malfoy would remarry, let alone that she would remarry a Muggle.

—

Draco was sitting at his desk. He was simply too distracted to do his work as planned today. Even Granger's weeklong snit was secondary to his mother lobbing a bombarda maxima into his life with her letter. Draco had Narcissa's letter out and the only thing he had done all morning was to read and reread it, while listening to the background noise of Granger's increasingly frequent sniffs of disapproval, presumably regarding his lack of productivity.

The letter was brief given its incendiary contents. Mother explained that she had fallen in love with a wonderful man — a Muggle — and that they had married. Her new husband, Wendell Wilkins, did not know about her past or about the existence of magic. The letter explained that she intended to keep her secrets permanently and live out her life with Wendell as a Muggle. His mother. His mother who was raised to both detest and fear Muggles by the Blacks — perhaps the most rigid of the pureblood families in the whole of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She was voluntarily choosing to live as a Muggle.

While his mother was understandably weary of the magical world after her experience living under the chaotic whims of the Dark Lord, Draco couldn't believe it when she said that she intended to live the rest of her days without magic. Literally everything Narcissa Malfoy was doing was an anathema to the way he had been raised — which was made all the more surprising because she was the one who raised him. The shock of the complete about-face to everything she had helped teach him was still fucking him up, if he was being honest.

To voluntarily live like a Muggle?

To never tell your spouse who you really are?

Draco could not even begin to fathom it.

Mother had included a Muggle-style photograph of her and her new beau on their wedding day. Photos that didn't move were so off-putting to Draco — it was like the subjects were dead, standing frozen and lifeless. But aside from that, his mother looked very happy. Maybe the happiest she'd ever been. Her new husband appeared to be an unassuming man, with a pleasant enough face and who also seemed to be very happy. Which was good, Draco supposed. Good for people to find happiness somewhere, even if the circumstances were extraordinarily strange.

However, that wasn't what was troubling him the most at the moment. He had a quiet feeling of dread that he could not seem to shake. Especially not after he arrived in his shared office, only to be greeted by more of Granger's furious silence. After the initial shock of his mother's news had subsided somewhat, Draco was left with a nagging feeling that he recognized this Muggle. That ought to be practically impossible. Draco hardly ever even encountered Muggles. There was no reason whatsoever for him to know a random bloody man living in Australia.

But the lingering feeling that he recognized this Muggle had only intensified after he got to his desk and caught a glance of his officemate in his peripheral vision while he was still ruminating on his Mother's unexpected news.

Draco stared hard at the hair on the man who had married his mother for a good twenty minutes after the terrifying thought had first crossed his mind. He knew that hair. He had the misfortune to look at a longer, more frazzled version of that hair everyday in the office. That was Granger's hair.

On deep reflection, which was all he was doing that whole morning since work was definitely not happening until he had an answer to this question, Draco recalled that he saw Granger's parents once before — forever ago in Diagon Alley. And this man, Draco had reluctantly concluded, looked like Granger's father had in his memory. From the photograph, the man's hair looked like a shorter version of Granger's ridiculous mess of curls. Even his eyes looked like Granger's eyes. Except this man's name was Wilkins. And he was now — however improbable — married to Narcissa Malfoy nėe Black.

But then again, as far as this man knew, Narcissa's last name had been Mallory.

It couldn't be. Could it? Draco kept giving the photograph fugitive glances, before looking over at Hermione. Comparing the two as surreptitiously as possible. He spent most of the morning doing it, in fact. Thank Merlin Granger was so absorbed in her work she didn't notice. The last thing he needed was for her to think he fancied her. She'd hate that.

Finally, Draco reluctantly concluded that he couldn't just continue to stew about this indefinitely. He was going to have to ask her about this and hope she would talk to him enough to resolve the issue definitively. "Ah, Granger," he asked hesitantly.

"What is it now, Malfoy?" Her response was terse. Even before Granger had renewed her hostilities towards him, she didn't like to be interrupted when she was working.

"Are you parents still in England?" Draco tried to sound casual, like he was just making conversation.

Hermione stiffened for a bare moment, before her quill started moving across her parchment again. She did not look up at him. "I fail to see how that's any of your business."

"It's not. Not really. But they are still in England, aren't they?" Draco could hear the note of desperation in his voice, despite his best efforts. If his suspicions were true? Fuck, he might have to move down under as well, just to escape Granger's wrath. But he had to know.

"Not that I need to explain anything to you, but no. They moved to Australia a few years ago."

Draco's heart plummeted. Australia. He stopped trying to hide his panic. "But they are still together, aren't they? Your mum and dad."

Hermione threw down her parchment in disgust. "What on earth are you doing, Malfoy? Making small talk? We aren't friends. We are reluctant co-workers, at best. And I don't really feel like I need to discuss my personal life with anyone, least of all you."

Draco held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not trying to pry, Granger, I swear. Can I show you a picture of someone and then leave you alone?"

"This is a professional office, Malfoy! Not bloody show and tell! Why would you need to show me anything?" He had her full attention now and she was looking at him with disgust.

"Well, I would greatly appreciate it if you kept this to yourself, Granger, at least for now. My mother informed me yesterday that she has remarried. To a Muggle British expat living in Australia. A dentist. She sent me a photograph from their wedding and her new husband looked, ah, familiar."

Hermione scoffed but nodded, gesturing for him to get on with it.

Draco slid the photograph across the table, face down. Hermione took it, pulled it up and looked. Draco didn't know what to do, so he waited. Then he made a small cough. Still Granger didn't move. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, with shock etched across her features. Draco wasn't holding out much hope that the worst hadn't already happened given how utterly appalled Granger appeared to be. She hadn't moved for a full sixty seconds. He had to say something.

"Granger, I —"

"Motherfucker!" She picked up her desk lamp and threw it across the room, as the sound of her screamed epitaph reverbated in their office. The lamp hit the wall and shattered, the pieces falling scattered on the floor.

His mother had married Granger's father.

Fucking perfect.

—-

After the revelation that their parents had somehow gotten bloody married, it was clear that neither of them was going to get any work done. Draco told Perkins that Granger just received upsetting news and she had to leave to attend to a family emergency — which was technically true enough and explained both her very loud utterance, as well as the crash heard by the rest of their department from the breaking lamp. Their department head was pleased with him when Draco offered to help her out. Perkins was aware of the tension between his top-performing clerks and had made no secret of his desire that they get along better. Freed from work obligations for the moment, the two of them made their way to the Three Broomsticks — hoping to discuss their shared predicament on neutral ground that also served alcohol.

Granger wasted no time ordering two glasses of firewhisky. Draco had never seen her more agitated, which given their history was saying something. On the way over, Granger had dazedly explained to him that she had changed her parents' memories, given them new identities and sent them to Australia with no memories of her or their old life. Draco was floored by her revelation — she had truly been given no support from the Order whatsoever and had left to figure out how to protect her Muggle parents entirely on her own as a teenager. Draco would have assumed that the Gryffindors were capable of extending more care to one of their own. Wasn't that supposed to be the point of being one of the good guys? For Hermione's part, it was an extraordinarily brave and ruthless maneuver which impressed Draco to no end. Not that he'd tell that to her, mind you. She was beyond agitated as she confessed the healers were unable to restore her parents' minds after the war and she had reluctantly left them in Australia to live their new lives, with very limited opportunities to check in on them.

"This is a nightmare. This has to be a literal nightmare. My parents got divorced. They used to be so happy together — so how that happened is a mystery to me in and of itself. And my father — the dentist — has somehow already met and married Narcissa Malfoy. In Australia. Why was your mum even in Australia, Malfoy? How the fuck does she meet any Muggle, let alone my dad. This might be the thing that breaks me. Not the bullying, not being tortured, not the war and not the relentless post-war public scrutiny. Not even getting fucked over at work. This. Narcissa Wilkins. I picked out that name, you know? It's made up. I'm the person who made it up."

She took the drink offered by the bartender. Draco took his and nodded in thanks. Hermione took a long pull — wait, actually, she was just finishing the whole glass of firewhisky at once, with a speed that was honestly impressive. But she didn't seem to enjoy it, judging by the expression of disgust she made as she put the empty glass down on the bar, before gesturing for another.

"You might want to go easy on the drink, Granger," Draco said, as he watched her tap the bar impatiently for her refill.

"Ha! I can't believe you aren't also trying to get as smashed as possible, as quickly as possible. Your mother has had sex with my father, Malfoy. Probably a bunch of times by now! Possibly even right now. I don't know if there's enough alcohol in Britain for this."

Granger made a good point. Draco finished his drink as well and picked up his second at the same time as Hermione.

Hermione continued to rant, gesturing wildly as she did so. "I didn't even know they were divorced! I can't check up on them often, because you know — they don't fucking know me. And now he's remarried. To your mother. You — Draco Malfoy — are invited to my father's house for Christmas in a few weeks, whereas I will probably never see him again." She downed the entire glass in front of her, set it on the table and immediately gestured for another. "How the fuck do I work so hard and get nothing, but you're you and you get fucking everything I want."

"I don't get everything I want, Granger." Draco grumbled into his own glass of firewhisky. Which, since it was already his second he was sipping. Like a normal person.

Hermione was already starting to look unsteady on her stool and her words were very slightly slurred. "Really? You're not in jail. You still have all your galleons and your stupid Manor. You got the best project in the department, even though I wanted it and I'm more qualified. You still have one of your parents, at least. And now you've got my dad too! Do you want to sleep with Ron, as well? Shag my ex-boyfriend just so you can get your hands on everything in my life?"

"You and the Weasel broke up?" That was news to Draco. He wondered what finally made Granger realize she was too good for the tosser.

"Yes. Which means I will not be attending the Burrow this Christmas, or on any other occasion in the immediate future. I was going to travel to Australia to check up on my parents over the holidays, but I'm not sure that's a good idea anymore as your mother might recognize me from her drawing room floor."

Draco nearly choked on his own firewhisky. Granger continued on, relentless and furious.

"Or would she even recognize me? How many people did Bellatrix torture over tea?" She turned to Draco, fury in her eyes, as she slid off the stool a bit, before quickly righting herself.

Draco felt his own ire rise at her words. He also felt a healthy portion of guilt and shame sweep over him, which he ignored while firing back at Hermione. "I didn't torture you! And neither did my mother! That's not necessary, Granger."

"Oh, what are you going to do, tell your new father about it?" Hermione spat out, before taking another long sip of her drink. "And you are right. You and your mother didn't personally torture me. You just watched me be tortured while not intervening. And you also hoped to curry favour with your boss by having me turned over to be murdered. My bad."

Draco felt defeated. There wasn't much point in arguing with her when what she was saying was true. "Granger, my mother likely doesn't even know she married your father. How could she? This is all a horrible, as you say, nightmarish coincidence. All her letter said was she met a wonderful man, fell in love and they got married. If she knew his true identity, I'm sure she would have at least mentioned it. Instead, all she said was that she's never been so happy."

Hermione finished the rest of her glass and asked for another. The bartender just put two in front of her, as he backed away slowly, sending a sympathetic glance in Draco's direction. "Bully for her. So glad the broken wreckage of my family is working out for your mum. Think they'll have kids?" Hermione said bitterly.

Draco choked again. "Merlin, Granger! Don't speak such things into existence."

Another glass down. Granger showed no signs of slowing. Draco was starting to get concerned about how he would get her home. "You can't say Merlin."

"What?" Draco was confused by her apparent change in topic.

"When you meet my dad. Muggles don't go around saying 'Merlin' at all. You could say 'God' pretty much interchangeably, but that's probably going to seem odd coming from you, so I would just drop it. And obviously, don't say 'Muggle'. It isn't a word to them."

Was she giving him advice now? Draco tried to make sense of Granger's about-face. "Why are you helping me?"

Hermione held up a single finger as she finished her remaining firewhisky. As far as Draco knew before today, Hermione Granger wasn't much of a drinker. Either he had been grossly misinformed or he was roughly ten minutes from having to carry her unconscious form out of this bar.

"I don't know," she said miserably, her mood quickly shifting from anger to despair. "Maybe you could at least tell me how he's doing when you get back from spending Christmas with him," and with that she buried her face in her arms and started to weep on the bar, drawing curious glances and a few outright stares from the other patrons.

Draco waited for an awkward moment, before slowly putting out his hand as if he was approaching that damned hippogriff with some sense this time, and patted her gently on the back. "There, there, Granger. It will be alright."

"How?" she looked up at him with tear streaked cheeks and wide, sorrowful eyes. Fuck he couldn't stand to see her look so sad. "What can fix this for me?"

Draco searched her eyes and thought quickly. He exhaled and spoke in a rush, before he chickened out. "You can come with me. Pretend to be my girlfriend and come with me. I can't do anything about your mother, but you could at least have Christmas with your father again. You'd just have to pretend to like me."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Granger's words were slurred as she looked up at him, even more unsteady on her chair.

"Of course. What are officemates for?"

"Not this! This whole situation is too fucked up."

She started crying again and gestured for another glass. The bartender looked at Draco and shook his head. "Perhaps you ought to help your witch home now, yeah?"

Draco didn't correct the man. He helped Granger up, putting her arm around him so she could steady herself. She was wobbly. He helped her to the floo in the back of the bar. She managed to say the name for her flat on the second try, before he gave her the floo powder to use on the third attempt.

He really hoped that was her house.

—

Draco was still tired the next morning, but not faring too badly. He had taken a sober-up the night before and a hangover remedy in the morning. In the past when they spoke more, Granger had expounded at length about how she never took hangover potions, as she felt the hangover itself was a nice lesson in the perils of overconsumption. Draco had brought an extra one from his home. Just in case the truly Herculean amount of firewhisky she had consumed yesterday caused her to reevaluate her stance on hangover assistance.

Draco knocked lightly on the side of the door frame, alerting her to his presence. She tensed at the noise, before putting her hands on her head. "Please don't make unnecessary noise," she whispered, wincing.

Draco walked softly over to her and put the hangover potion on her desk in front of her. "Should you decide you want to feel better," he said pointedly.

Hermione looked at it for a long moment, before sighing and reaching forward to pick it up. "Thank you, Malfoy." There was a small amount of reluctance in her expression of gratitude; she didn't like accepting help from him. But she did accept it, which would bode well for their trip to Australia, if she decided to go with him.

"You are most welcome Granger. Glad you didn't manage to drink yourself to death last night. Did you have a chance to consider my proposal?"

"What proposal? Because personally, I think one marriage between our families is enough." she said confused, but looking more alert as the potion took effect.

"You seriously don't remember?" he asked.

"Oh for the love of Merlin! Look, I had the worst hangover I've ever experienced until about 35 seconds ago and I got very little sleep. Just spit it out, Malfoy. I have no idea what you are talking about," she said, wearily.

Draco sighed. "I'm going to Australia to spend Christmas with my mother and her new husband. Do you want to come with me?"

"Oh, did your mum say you could bring a friend?" she asked, doubt clear in her tone.

"No. And you've made it very clear that we aren't friends, Granger. But as we discussed last night, I know my family is not blameless in your misfortunes. And you're right. It's not fair for me to spend the holidays with your father while you are alone. Which is why I invited you to tag along and we can pretend that you are my girlfriend and we are — I don't know — too in love to be apart for a few weeks, or some such nonsense."

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "You want us to pretend to be in love, in front of your mum and my dad, with my dad not knowing that he's my dad. Does your mother know yet that she married my dad?"

"I was going to tell her in person."

Hermione looked surprised by that. "In person, at Christmas. With me there?"

"Yes."

"And Mr. Wilkins isn't going to be enlightened about anything?"

"No, not at all." At least, Draco wasn't planning on revealing any of this mess to him. That was Mother's problem. That's what she got for marrying Granger's dad without informing Draco about it until after it was done.

"And you think you can do that? Pretend to be a Muggle who loves me?" She looked skeptical.

Draco dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Well enough for a few weeks, in any event. I envision us as a reserved couple who is not fond of public displays of affection."

"Yeah, that's how I would envision us too." Hermione looked forlorn as she sat down at her desk. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Draco actually wasn't sure. But he made the offer and if she accepted he was resolved to see it through.

"Are you going to at least give your mother a head's up on who is coming to join them for Christmas?"

Draco smirked. "I'm thinking she deserves as much notice as she gave me."

Hermione actually laughed. "Well, this is going to be a colossal train wreck. I'm in."

Beta read by Vonn, crooksmanager on Twitter after her tweet about Narcissa marrying a Muggle inspired me to write this fic.

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Thanks for reading!