"It's..ahh!", Hermione's frustrated voice sliced the heavy silence hanging in the kitchen. Her mother and father sat on opposite ends of the wooden table nearby, flipping through their morning papers, halting briefly to brace themselves for the discussion ahead. Warm orange rays of the dawn flooded the small room, bathing it in a cozy light in contrast to the faint chill in the air.

"Its not done!", she huffed and slammed the bowl to the counter irritably.

"Honey", her mother's soft, coaxing voice indulged her as she folded her paper neatly. "Don't be in such a rush. This- what you have- is enough."

"No, Mum", Hermione exhaled defeatedly, turning away hopelessly towards the kitchen cabinets, hiding her face in case it betrayed her. It always did.

I can see everything from your face, her mother always joked.

"Listen- No Listen - Look at me, Hermione", her mother called out patiently, the same way she had many times before.

She refused to look at her mother, sensing her eyes prickle with angry tears. Her fingers clutched the cereal box tightly, jerking the contents into her empty bowl, forcing her mind to focus on the rough cardboard.

"Its always enough, love. You don't have to have it all figured out. You're young and life is more than that, darling", her mother continued, looking at Hermione intently. She knew she couldn't meet her mother's gaze, one that always held such love and understanding. She was twenty-three years old, she refused to unravel before her mother.

"Mum, they took it all away. " She shook the milk carton and poured out the milk. Breathe, she reminded herself. "I was supposed to go ahead, become the youngest in the department, earn more money- you know we need it.", she sighed.

Unfortunately, fame after the war didn't entail a lifetime of financial stability. The war had drained everyone and everything- including money from the Ministry. Every wizard, over the past few years, had struggled with different aspects of their life and the one that had pinched the most was money. The Relief funds department was swamped with letters from wizards all over, requesting for funds for their children, homes, clothes.

"We don't, honey", her mother interrupted softly, her gaze boring into Hermione's back. She swept up the fallen cereal and slowly sat down on the table. "Your father and I have earned enough, you always have us."

"No, Mum, its not just that." It was a struggle to form the words.

"I had so many", she hesitated shakenly, "hopes and expectation for my life."

"I wanted to do so many things, Mum", she glanced at her Mother fleetingly only to find her gaze still pinned on her. How could she explain it to her parents? Or anyone? Her friends never realized how desolate her job was, hadn't she insisted she wanted work in the magical creatures department? Why would anyone empathize when she'd been stubborn in her choices?

Only she hadn't counted it on being this frustrating and taxing.

"I'm nowhere close to where I want to be." The frustration she'd clamped over the years begged to burst through.

"I wanted to be sub junior Minister, at least make some policy changes. Instead I'm stuck here, with people so..so content with where they are", she let some of it drip through. She'd envisioned days in Ministry to be surrounded by bright, young individuals; people with similar ideas to hers, challenging and pushing her. Instead her peers were - insipid. None smarter than her and somehow making her feel inadequate about her persistence and intelligence. The tears resurfaced, forcing her to blink furiously. She felt like a child, another reason she hadn't been able to echo her thoughts to her friends. Wasn't her job stable enough, they would joke.

Her mothers hand reached out to pry her unwilling fingers that tightly clutched the bowl. She intertwined their fingers together and stared at the Sun lighting their skin, peeking through the gaps in their fingers.

"Life is like that. Not everything you plan for, will happen.", her mother whispered. Hermione's gaze roved over her mother's face, her shoulders relaxing hesitantly. "Why? When will it work out like I want", she asked softly. Enough for her even father to lean in discreetly to their side, eyes still on his paper.

"Give it time, my love. Give it time."


She'd noticed him. She'd noticed along with everyone else in the Ministry.

Draco Malfoy, five years after the war, was a force to be reckoned with. In the beginning, all of them were young inept officials, thrust into roles high above their pay grade due to vacancies caused by the war. Fresh from the throes of war, they'd burst into their roles with the enthusiasm of young revolutionaries brimming with lofty ideals for forging change.

Only they'd been smacked with truck named reality carrying piles of paperwork, agendas, oppositions, hierarchies, and realities of life. Their enthusiasm had waned and spirits washed off.

Hermione, working in the magical creature's department, only knew the story too well. Having landed in a department tucked in the corner of the ministry building with superiors above 70 years of age, her enthusiasm had been met with kindly patience and reluctance. Her fresh new laws were hurdled with taking permissions from all departments, debating on it in the parliament and finally, convincing magical creatures the benefits. The latter wasn't too hard unless one was dealing with elves who believed her to be snatching away their way of living. However, unlike her peers, she'd trudged on, battling her bosses, the oppositions and the magical creatures arguments, slowly herding them in her corner to pass laws for the better slowly but surely.

As three years flew by, she became weary of the ministry's working but her determination didn't waver. She still woke up each morning with the alarming alacrity of a ferret caught eating crop. Her peers now spent days fending off her enthusiasm, the fact that she was working in a department not in the main ring of offices helped, and enjoying the slow paced ministry life which took off at 5 pm.

In this setting, three years later, Draco Malfoy walked in, as an advisor to the struggling treasury of the ministry.

Tucked in her own corner under piles of paperwork, Hermione had learnt surprisingly late of Draco's role. An embarrassing encounter in one of the lifts where she'd nearly bludgeoned him to death under a pile of books and subsequently stared at him in confusion for a few minutes until a peer had informed of his employment, hadn't been the best way to introduce a coworker.

She found no reason to stress over the embarrassing encounter especially over Malfoy, who in her opinion needed to save his own businesses rather than offer unsolicited advice to the ministry. However, government work did entail hours of gossip and so whispers about Malfoy reached her quite nook.

Didn't she know, Malfoy had painstakingly built back his family wealth while under heavy surveillance ordered by the ministry? Didn't she know he was roped in because of his financial acumen that resulted in turning the fates of many fallen businesses wrecked by the war? Didn't she know he'd already passed resourceful policies for funding their treasury? Hadn't she heard about the Minister Ruflous in ninth floor whose arguments in opposition to his policies had been sliced by Malfoy's sharp tongue in front of a full jury?

The consensus was to stay away from him. He remained a ruthless death eater who albeit now lent his services to the ministry.

Hermione couldn't match these rumors to the man she'd met on the elevator who'd looked at her with a comically wide eyed expression on her face, balancing some books that had fallen from her hands. With having her ears full up in the new centaur land rights report, she'd dismissed the rumors to what they were, rumors without a grain of truth and marched forward to pushing her proposals to the finish line.

Nor could she match them with the thin boy in school, whose being simmered with arrogance and condescension.

In the coming months, she saw him in few financial meetings and discerned that some rumors might've been witness accounts. They hardly got a chance to exchange words as they were accompanied by their superiors but he always gave the air of a disinterested participant forced to endure their presence. He had Altemus Kruger as his superior, after all. The man wouldn't even let a rat squeak in his presence.

But she was stuck with Dhovian Zalk, her seventy-year-old mentor who liked spending days wistfully dreaming of his garden back home. Hermione's knowledge on plant varieties had shot up alarmingly over the years. However that also entailed, her fighting it down with Kruger who wouldn't budge the budget ever in their favor as Zalk leaned back in his chair and every few moments waved his hand to calm Hermione down.

So flew by two years, in which she drowned deeper into her work, met her friends lesser, argued more with her managers and steered clear of Malfoy. However, she did have a reason to keep an ear out for his progress.

If she was promoted so was he, if she became the youngest to pass record number of proposals so was he, if she had brought strides in her department, his influence surged threefold; influencing seeping into other departments as well. What had started out as casual inquiry into his work slowly turned into a competition to beat him, naturally not known to him.

Months passed until one early September morning, the lawyers announcement swept into her office. A proposal backed by her department scheduled a month later had been preponed and she was needed in the evening at six. Hermione had grabbed her bag while scanning the letter, rushing to the library where she spent hours reading and redrafting the proposal to perfection. The small growls frequently emitted by her stomach only served to remind her how thankless her jobs was. A topic to think about for another night, anyway.

Now, running towards the lift that filled the dim light of the main foyer of the ministry, Hermione silently prayed to the gods to lend her legs the strength to catch the lift.

She was late for her proposal with the lawyers about granting minimum wages to elves who had reluctantly given her the evening slot to recite the benefits of the same. Her manager had laughed it off but encouraged her to give it a try to "soothe her young mind" and taken an early leave, leaving her to hunt for records on the ministry funds that could be allocated for the same.

The elevator doors had almost closed when she sped and jabbed the button repeatedly to open without any success. The heavy sounds of gears shifting as the lift rolled back swept the halls and plunged it into further darkness. Tiredly leaning her head against the wall to catch her breath, she missed the soft sounds of someone approaching the lift and standing close by.

She groaned and smacked the wall in frustration at her stupidity when she heard a huff of laughter. Perking her head up she turned quickly to come face to face with Malfoy. Tall and amused Malfoy.

"Having a bad day I presume?" His deep voice filled the begrimed nooks of the ministry.

Meeting someone against whom you held a silent competition for a few years robbed one of the voice or sense to reply intelligently.

She blinked twice and let her gaze scan him thoroughly. It must've been more than a year since she'd last seen him.

His face remained sharp and defined, with pale hair falling carelessly across his forehead.

He carried his dark robes well; the smooth white neck rising from his stiff collar and pale hair gave him an almost ethereal glow in the dim light.

It was either that or she was running on extremely light stomach.

"Malfoy", she voiced dazedly. Definitely low food.

He looked at her a moment longer before replying. "It's been long, Granger"

Hermione nodded dumbly, shifting weight to her other leg. The sharp sound of the lift arriving at the doors jerked her awake and she turned to hurriedly walk inside. He followed silently and leant back against the wall beside, facing her.

His presence robbed air in cramped space as he slid in beside her. She took a step back reflexively as his long fingers reached out to gently pressed the button to the top floor. The one where she was going.

"May I?", he inquired politely.

"Uhh, I'm going there as well", Hermione said softly, reluctant to elaborate further. She felt exhaustion in her bones, tempting her to crawl out of the lift and seek refuge in any bed in the vicinity.

He hummed in agreement.

The pin drop silence of the lift stretched the seconds as the lift lurched and sped through the distance, interrupted immediately by an embarrassing growl of hunger let out by her stomach.

She gasped and glanced at him sharply, laughing softly. She wanted to die.

"I.. I apologize. This- it's been too long since I've eaten or slept". She should run.

His lips parted slightly in amusement, but he said nothing. If she didn't know better she might've thought his striking gaze turned warmer.

"Where are you taking the files?", he probed gently. She knew, she really did know what he intended. With his gentle probing question, he wished to lure out her defenses, to confide in him and to seek his help.

Did he think her naïve enough to not understand how her role was always interspersed with the workings of his departments?

How many times had her proposals regarding funding been shot down insultingly by the treasury? She knew her reputation in his department was of a pestering hag and with him being the rising star, of course he'd heard of her proposals. Had some of them reached his desk and had he been behind some of the scathing replies she'd received? Dazed and hungry, Hermione knew enough to know that this was finally her chance.

It didn't matter she hadn't met him over the three years, didn't matter how beneficial his influence would be in her proposal, how tempting and easy it would be to plead for his help and ease out her burdens to someone else? Did he not have the reputation to see all laws in which he believed pass through? Was he not the death eater between them? How had the tables tuned so quickly?

She blinked rapidly, cursing herself for unraveling in front of a stranger who wouldn't have spared a thought about her existence but it felt so so enticing. To have someone else, for once, help her.

She steeled herself and spoke a little sharply, "I have a meeting with someone which shouldn't concern you".

His politeness grated on her nerves and her anger trickled through.

"Of course", he replied politely. Run run run, before you cause damage.

As soon as the lift lurched to a stop, she roughly grabbed the gate and pushed it open, almost tripping in a hurry to be away from him. She strode across the halls, cursing the lawyers for situating their office at the end of the corridor. She could hear his soft footsteps trailing behind her but she paid no heed to how desperate she looked at the moment.

She could've thanked the gods as she reached the intimidating blue door and pushed it open.

Peeking inside, she spotted the two lawyers speaking to each other in hushed tones.

"I apologize for the delay", she laughed apologetically and walked quickly to the chair opposite the desk, avoiding their eyes. She sat on the chair unceremoniously, resting the books on the table along with her bulky purse.

"May I start?" She inquired politely, not wanting to give any excuses for her delay or state of her hair.

"Ah Miss, we're waiting for someone."

"Waiting? I wasn't informed of anyone joining us today?"

"Ah, well", the lawyer stalled and looked uncomfortably at his partner. "After receiving so many unrealistic- from a financial view point- proposals from your department, it was decreed that it any meetings with your officials would be held in the presence of a member of the treasury. Only so we don't waste time later as the bill progresses. Almost to nip the bud in the beginning, I believe is the saying?", he laughed awkwardly, glancing at his peer for help.

Hermione stared at him blankly. There was only one person who trailed behind her in the dim hall.

"Good evening gentlemen", Malfoy greeted as he entered the room and stopped right behind Hermione. Uneasy awareness prickled down her spine.

"Ah Good evening, Sir", the men greeted standing up from their chair awkwardly.

"May we introduce Miss Granger from the Magical Creatures Department". He paused but after receiving no reaction from either of the occupants continued. "And Miss Granger, May we introduce Mr. Malfoy, from the Finance Department"

Hermione turned slowly to look up the length of Malfoy to find looking at her expectantly.

She wondered whether the day could worsen.

"Good evening" she managed to speak steadily, looking ahead at the lawyers now.

Malfoy didn't respond for a moment before moving to pull a chair beside her to sit. From the corner of her eye she saw him gesture with his hand to continue.

Refined and precise, so used to having his way.

"Miss, your proposal?", the lawyers turned to her expectantly. Shaking herself awake, Hermione determinedly pulled out the files from her purse and handed the lawyers a copy each.

"The files, which I submitted almost four months back state the amount of money we're asking the treasury for the proposal. The calculations indicate the amount to be well within the budgets of Extra Affairs of the Ministry." She squared her shoulders in the manner of a general finally getting the opportunity to burn the opponent's ears. "We have submitted drafts and redrafts of the initial proposal to accommodate your concerns by lowering some of our prices but I'm afraid we can't lower them further."

Pin drop silence met her tirade as the lawyers solemnly nodded and looked at Malfoy.

"Sir, While Miss. Granger is right, her proposal still threatens to eat almost the entire money set aside for the extra affairs in the ministry. The other departments especially small miscreant's department and the money for remedial of grievances caused by wizarding children also harangue us for the funds. Despite our telling Miss Granger of the same, she hasn't completely lower the amount to an acceptable price." The lawyer shot Hermione an irritated glare.

Good, Hermione thought, let someone else share my irritation on these matters as well. She could feel her frustration mingling with exhaustion boiling in her veins threatening to pour out in tears.

She couldn't let another proposal bite the dust.

"Your point holds true", Malfoy remarked softly, pulling her out her thoughts. She turned to strike him with a menacing glare but saw him studying the file studiously. Her anger ebbed.

"The Ministry traditionally allocated limited funds till last year. This year, with the new business we've started we hope to expand our treasuries further."

If there was any other ray of hope in this bleary year, it was this and Hermione grabbed onto it.

"How big?", she asked a little too quickly.

Malfoy now turned to level a gaze at her. His eyes were strikingly grey and beautiful. How had she not noticed it before?

"Enough for your funds"

"Which business? Which schemes?", she prompted, unwilling to see her proposal fall through because of Malfoys irreverent attitude.

"Schemes with international participation, ministry business we've set up in other countries, export and import works with Muggles", he answered Malfoy patiently, pale fingers drumming against the mahogany desk.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. She turned towards the lawyers.

"Pass the proposal." His voice held no room for disagreement. Strong, decisive and dismissive.

The lawyers glanced at each other before leaning towards Malfoy.

"Sir, you realize we'll need documents verifying the statement and permission from Altemus Kruger on this"

Altemus Kruger, former Auror and now Treasury head, was behind squishing most of Hermione's reports. He handled the purse strings of the ministry like an old lady paranoid about relatives hounding the wealth she would bequeath on her death.

Her superiors had tales to regale about his crookedness which though had saved his skins in many battles, had caused headaches for other departments. The lore went that Kruger never did anything for no returns. There was always a motive, always a hidden card, something to trip you up and make you look a fool.

Rumours said that he'd taken Malfoy under his wing after their first meeting.

"You can send the documents early tomorrow and you'll get Kruger's permission by the end of tomorrow"

Hermione knew from his tone that Malfoy hadn't informed Kruger of her proposal and she wondered how he'd manage this. But again, from everything she'd heard about him in the past three years it seemed that if there was anyone she'd have to bet against Kruger, it would be Malfoy.

The lawyers murmured in agreement as they started shuffling the papers around, neatly organizing them before stuffing into their briefcases. Hermione stood up slowly gathering her papers and shrugging her purse onto her shoulder.

She wasn't sure how she'd managed this, what Malfoys agenda in the meeting had been but her hunger prevented her to ask further questions.

The surge of relief and gratitude rippling through her was overwhelming. The unacknowledged hours spent on the report were embarrassingly long and everyone had bet against her. She didn't trust herself to stand in the room a moment longer before unravelling due to a combination of all her emotions.

She needed rest, preferably in her cozy home after a bowl of warm soup. She walked out of the room in long strides, blindly staring at the black doors of the lift at the end of the hallway, heels reverberating in the deserted hallway.

"Granger", Malfoys voice called out sharply through the corridor, pulling her out of her thoughts and she turned to find him striding towards her, flapping a paper in his hand .

Run.

"I'll need your signature here". Her stomach gave a sickening lurch as he came closer.

"Ah, yes." she quickly rummaged for a pen before blinking at the one Malfoy held out in front of her eyes.

He stood close enough for her to pick up faint notes of wooden, sharp smell from his robes.

"Use mine"

She nodded dumbly and hastily plucked some the sheets from his hand.

Faint tremors wrecked her hand as she berated herself mentally.

"Malfoy?", she said craning her neck to look up at him. He hummed absentmindedly, still sorting through the papers.

Her breath stilled. He certainly felt different from what she remembered.

She couldn't find any traces of the boy she knew, the reluctant death eater, the ashamed convict.

Gone was gangly boy with a sneer ever present on his face.

How much could she blame him and how much did she want to? How much would she allow?

She remembered when she'd seen him across the hall in his hearing, where she'd only spoke five sentences and left the rest to Harry. He'd not glanced even once at her, emotionlessly staring at the mania in court.

A twinge of sympathy sparked in her heart, one she'd never imagine evoking for him.

"Thank you", she said softly, surprising herself, lowering her eyes to the papers in hand.

Only this, she would give him only this.

Malfoys hands stilled for a moment before resuming their work, shifting his index finger towards her, pointing the mark to sign. She silently signed then handed the papers over before turning on her heels.

The sound of her heels clicking on the floor reverberated in the deserted hall as she looked back sharply to smile uncertainly at him. "I'll see you around!", she called out, gratitude overpowering self preservation.

He turned back slightly, looking over at her, before nodding slightly and allowing a small smile. A smile that narrowed his eyes imperceptibly, twinkling playfully at her, a rare smile that she doubt he gave often, one so at odds with his general behavior that Hermione couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped her at the absurdity of the situation.

His eyes widened, brows shooting upwards and smile growing wider in amusement. Heat flooded her cheeks with embarrassment and she whipped her had back quickly, struggling with another feeling settling over her heart.

That smile. Why hadn't anyone informed her of that smile?

One that transformed his face completely, to look younger with eyes alighting mischievously, inviting her into his world where he kept himself guarded.

He was the same age as her wasn't he? Was he the same person the spoke about in hushed whispers?

She held her breath until she couldn't hear his footsteps any longer and only then, allowed herself to exhale harshly.

The cold black tiles felt soothing against her flushed skin as she grappled with inexplicable urge rising through her to be close enough in his life to warrant those smiles often.


Authors Note: Hello! I'm finally dipping my toes into this pool of Granger- Malfoy fiction with a story that's floated in my head for sometime. Its my first stab at writing so I apologize for glaring grammar mistakes.

If someone does read it, hope you enjoy it. :)

Let me know if there are mistakes, anything you liked or didn't. If someone does like it, I'll write more.