Penelope Clearwater sat in her office holding a cup of coffee. Today's print of the Daily Prophet was sprawled across her desk.
"What do you think they want with her?" she asked Blaise Zabini who was busy pacing in front of her as he sorted through the mail.
"We're too good. They can't afford to lose us here in the DMLE," he muttered.
Penelope flicked through the next page where a larger photo of Cormac McLaggen was displayed on the right side of the paper. "Do we say anything?"
"No. Fuck, no," Blaise dumped some of the letters in the trash and kept the important ones. "Not unless she brings it up."
"Maybe the Wizengamot won't confirm him," she mused.
"Oh no, they'll confirm him. Shacklebolt is riding high. It's not worth the political capital. They'll save the big guns for legislative battles."
Penelope pondered that for a moment. "Hey, Blaise—"
The wizard looked up just in time to see Hermione striding in from the main door, her stilettos clicking with a purpose. Blaise grabbed a folder and he and Penelope headed out to intercept her.
"Penelope, I want you to cancel every meeting I have for the rest of the day," Hermione said as she continued to power walk to her office. "Blaise, you're with me."
Blaise tossed a glance to Penelope only to see that she's already heading back to her desk. He tucked the folder under his arm and proceeded to follow Hermione to her office.
Penelope opened her notebook containing her boss's schedule and sighed. She had to talk to at least eleven people today.
She'd been working for Hermione for nearly seven years and she'd never seen her this furious, not even when her ex had stormed in the office and fought with her husband six years ago. She could practically feel waves of anger emanating from her body.
Penelope knew that her boss had worked so hard the past couple of years just to get where she is now. She'd been eyeing the position of Senior Undersecretary since the campaign started and had supported Kingsley Shacklebolt's reelection from the get-go.
Yesterday clearly didn't go well for her. Hell hath no fury like a woman betrayed.
Penelope leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be a very interesting year."
Blaise Zabini watched as his boss gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles turning white at the force. Hermione could probably break it if she exerted more pressure but he wasn't going tell her that. His mind was too busy processing all the information she'd given him.
"So you'll still work with them?" he finally asked.
"Only by face," Hermione said as she let go of the desk and started pacing the carpeted floors of her office instead. "They've done us a great favor, Blaise. We're no longer bounded by allegiances. We can speed up the timeline now."
"Shacklebolt and Theo?"
"All of them," she said with an eerie calmness that sent a chilling sensation through his spine. "I hold them all accountable."
It was in that moment that Blaise realized he wasn't talking to Hermione Granger anymore—one-third of the golden trio, the brave Gryffindor who fought at the final battle at Hogwarts, and esteemed head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—but rather to Hermione Malfoy—wife of notorious Lucius Malfoy, the one who jinxed Marietta Edgecombe's face for her betrayal, who lured Dolores Umbridge into the Mysterious Forest, and the one who dared to impersonate Bellatrix Lestrange as they infiltrated Gringotts during the second war.
"Retribution?" he asked with an edge of excitement in his voice.
"No," Hermione shook her head. A few strands of her curls falling. "No. It's more than that. Look at the bigger picture, Blaise."
Blaise thought for a moment, the cogs in his brain turning. "I can see where you're getting at. McLaggen first?"
"Cormac's not the sharpest knife in the rack, but he's not dull either. He knows I was up for the nomination and he knows I must be jealous," Hermione tapped a finger under her chin before smirking. "But he doesn't need to know the danger he's in. Let him bask in the limelight for now. I'll sharpen my blade in the dark and he'll still be smiling when I slit his throat."
Blaise visibly shuddered at the image and nearly raised a hand to his throat. "Who would you want for Senior Undersecretary?"
"We'll go through potential candidates. I want you to prepare me a list. And we'll need a buffer. In case we need to distance ourselves."
"An errand boy?"
Hermione nodded. "A lost child. Somebody we can save from himself."
"I'll keep my ear to the ground. Have you heard what's on the Minister's legislative agenda?"
"Education most probably," Hermione shrugged. "Integration of Muggle Studies for first years, things like that. Theo hasn't told me yet who's drafting it but I'm guessing it's Elphias Doge."
"Isn't he a pureblood? Shouldn't they approach someone else?" Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Why haven't they approached you?"
"I don't know, but Elphias Doge is a well-known Muggleborn sympathizer so everyone's turning a blind eye. Reach out to some of your contacts and let me know if something comes up," she said as she sat back to her desk.
Hermione was about to dismiss Blaise when the doors to her office swung open revealing one angry Harry Potter. "What the bloody hell was he thinking?!" he screamed across the room. "Cormac fucking McLaggen!"
She exchanged worried looks with her chief of staff. Blaise immediately pulled out his wand and cast silencing charms all over the room.
"Calm down Harry. It's okay—"
"It's not okay!" he seethed. "He's a self-righteous, arrogant prick! He's even worse than Malfoy!"
Hermione snorted at that. "I'll appreciate it if you would refrain from comparing my husband to McLaggen."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I was actually talking about his son. But seriously 'Mione, aren't you the least bit pissed? He promised you that position for ages!"
She saw Blaise nod his head in agreement out of the corner of her eye. "I am… disappointed with the decision. But we have to trust Shacklebolt."
Her best friend of nearly two decades looked at her suspiciously before cocking an eyebrow in question. "You're planning something," he glanced at Blaise then back to Hermione. "I know that look, Hermione. That's the same look you had when you suggested we brew Polyjuice Potion back in second year. You're not the type of person to just let things slide."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," Hermione smiled sweetly at him.
"Hermione, this is different. We're not kids at Hogwarts anymore," Harry cautioned her. "Let me talk to Kingsley first."
"They've already announced it, Harry. There's nothing you can do about it," Hermione went over her desk and gave Harry a tight hug. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
"It's them I'm worried about," Harry sighed as he hugged her tighter. He pulled back and gave her a sheepish smile, one that showed his dimple. "Sorry for barging in your office unannounced."
"You're always welcome here and in the Manor. You're family, Harry."
"Well, I better get back to my office then. I have a meeting with Robards in a few minutes," he gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze before leaving. "Zabini," he nodded in Blaise's direction.
"Potter," he returned the gesture. Blaise turned his attention back to his boss as soon as the door closed. "You want to keep him out of it?"
"I love him but Harry always has trouble keeping his mouth shut. It's better this way. If everything falls apart, at least he'll be spared," she plopped back into her chair. "Have Penelope bring me lunch. I just realized I haven't eaten since yesterday."
Blaise took it as a dismissal and left the room, smirking as he closed the door. He hadn't felt this excited since the last Quidditch battle between Slytherin and Gryffindor during his sixth year.
Lucius had spent the majority of the morning in one conference room or another. He vaguely paid attention to different advisors argue the best way to move his money around. He already knew. He'd been moving money around for years on his own.
His support at Kingsley's campaign left a sizeable dent in his vault although he didn't mind as long as it gets his wife one step closer to her goal. But when the Minister broke his promise to Hermione yesterday, he had also severed whatever connections he had with the Malfoys.
And now his wife is out for blood and Lucius would only be too happy to support her in any way he can.
"Can we do any better?" he asked as he perused the documents handed to him by his office manager, William Higgs. A wizard in his early seventies who has worked for the Malfoy family for three generations.
"Not without totally crippling our day-to-day. And we might have to pull out of some of our impact studies."
Lucius thought for a moment before coming to a decision. "We need to cut the salary budget in half. We have to let some people go," he said as he handed the documents back.
The elder wizard shook his head. "But Mr. Malfoy, that's half of our staff. You would have to fire essential staff—ones who have been with us from the beginning—"
"This is not a charity. I can't keep people on just because they've been with us a long time," Lucius countered.
"Do you mind, sir, if I ask what we're going to use the money for?"
"It's a Muggle organization I want to bring in—FundLife Initiative," he replied. It's an organization Hermione had suggested to him a year ago headed by a Squib. "They've done big projects overseas with very little budget and have collaborated with Magical people too."
"Do we need to bring in a new organization? If you want to expand overseas can't we just—"
"We've plateaued, William, and it is time for us, for Malfoy Industries to expand and bring in new opportunities."
"But sir—"
"William, you're the office manager," Lucius cut him off. He was getting tired of this discussion. William nodded in response. "And you're an excellent one. But I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing here so please get me that list. Or do I need to bring somebody else to handle this?"
William offered him a resigned smile. "No. I can do it."
"Good," their discussion was thankfully interrupted by a knock on the door. "Enter."
Justin Finch-Fletchley entered the office carrying a stack of parchment. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy."
"Good afternoon," he nodded to William signaling him that the discussion is over and he's being dismissed. Thankfully, the older wizard took the hint and left the office. "What do you have for me, Justin?"
"The usual, sir, but there's a letter here from a Rose Skater although it's glaringly obvious it's Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet," he said as he handed Lucius the parchments.
"Subtlety was never her strong suit," Lucius remarked dryly. "I'm sure it's still the same—her asking for a personal interview."
Justin's eyes went wide. "Oh, would you like me to divert or throw all future letters from her, sir?"
"Throw them," he said as he handed Justin the parchment but an idea suddenly occurred to him. "No, wait. On second thought, let me keep that." He tucked the letter inside the pocket of his robes. "Is that all?"
"Draco left a message while you were at the conference. He asked if you and Mrs. Malfoy would still be attending the dinner tonight?"
"We will. Thank you, Justin," the boy nodded and left the office. Hermione had been the one who persuaded him to hire the boy saying it'll be good for the image of the company to have some Muggleborns in his employ.
She was right of course.
It did boost the company's image. There was also the added bonus that Mr. Finch-Fletchley was not only intelligent and efficient but also rather discreet—making him a valuable secretary.
He pulled out the letter from Rita Skeeter and gave it a once over. Like he said to Mr. Finch-Fletchley, the letter contained an invitation to personally interview him and his wife.
Hermione had developed an odd, cautious relationship with the abominable witch throughout her tenure at the DMLE and they often exchanged carefully selected information that benefitted their careers greatly. His wife climbed up from being an Auror to becoming the youngest Head of the Department in just three years while Rita Skeeter gained more credibility and a larger readership for the Daily Prophet.
The exchange of information became less frequent in the past two years what with the nature of Hermione's work becoming more classified.
But an idea had occurred to Lucius. He'd have to consult with his wife first before meeting the slippery reporter.
"Thank Merlin you're here!" Draco exclaimed as he reached the two. "Astoria's been boring me to death with her work stories!"
"Hey!" came a shout from the parlor. Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass soon emerged and greeted her in-laws.
"Good evening Lucius, Hermione," she kissed Hermione on both cheeks and gave Lucius a hug. "So glad you two could make it!"
"Likewise, Astoria," Lucius returned the sentiment.
"Where's Daphne?" Hermione asked.
"She's on duty tonight so she had to skip dinner. I told her to trade shifts with Healer Pye but," Draco shrugged. "It's not even that hectic at the hospital."
"It's not hectic because you're assigned on the third floor," Astoria rolled her eyes. "Wait til Healer Smethwyck assigns you to the first floor or the Janus Thickey Ward."
"Come now, Tori. Is that a way to talk to your husband?" Vera Greengrass strolled in, her husband, Gareth Greengrass followed closely behind. Both were immaculately groomed, styled, and outfitted. "Hermione, Lucius, how lovely to see you."
The two pairs exchanged greetings and everyone was soon ushered to the dining hall.
Dinner was a pleasant affair followed by dessert which pleased Hermione greatly.
"I asked Lucius your favorite," Vera said as she sliced into her chocolate mousse. "After the announcement earlier I thought you'd like some comfort food."
"Thank you, Vera. That's very kind of you," Hermione said as she took a bite of her own. It tasted divine, the chocolate melting so deliciously in her mouth. "This is delicious."
"I'm glad you liked it. I'm sorry about the... you know," she made a motion with her hands. "It's just awful. Gareth and I were so upset when we read the news," Vera looked to her husband and Gareth nodded in agreement.
"Cormac McLaggen, geez," Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Even Dolores Umbridge would be a better candidate."
"Well, Umbridge did hold the position, you know," Astoria piped up, lightly ribbing Draco. "But I agree. What the bloody hell came over Shacklebolt's mind to replace you with McLaggen?"
"Language, Tori," Vera admonished, earning her a frown from her daughter.
"It's nothing, really," Lucius spoke up as he grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed it gently. "Between you and me, Hermione is relieved. She just feels much more at home in the DMLE. Right, my dear?" Hermione nodded in agreement.
"I would've bet a thousand galleons Shacklebolt was going to choose you," Gareth declared.
Hermione laughed it off as she squeezed Lucius's hand in return. "Well, it's a good thing you have a thousand galleons to spare."
"But Cormac McLaggen? Come on. That's a real insult, isn't it? He's got half the experience you do, and less than half the brain."
"Shacklebolt's a smart man. He knows what he's doing," Hermione shrugged.
"You're a bigger person than I am, Hermione," Gareth said before taking a sip of his wine. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be pissed as hell."
Lucius and Hermione caught each other's eyes. They appreciate the sympathy of the Greengrasses, but they abhor sympathy as a concept. It feels humiliating.
It was midnight when Lucius found her in the library furiously scribbling parchment after parchment. Draco and Astoria were the ones who left first, heading home to their townhouse in London while he and Hermione stayed for half an hour before saying their goodbyes to the Greengrasses with a promise to return the gesture of hosting a dinner at the Manor soon.
They went their separate ways when they reached home. Lucius retreated to his study to tend to some business matters while Hermione went to the library to go over some Ministry work.
It was half past eleven when he decided to climb up the stairs to their bedroom. Lucius expected to see his wife in their bed doing some light reading while waiting for him but found it empty. It didn't surprise him though. Hermione tended to forget the time when she's immersed in her work and because of yesterday's events, she'll likely get carried away now more than ever.
His hunch was correct when he saw light coming from the library.
He gave the door three knocks. She didn't need to give her blessing, not really since this is his home after all, but ever since they got married, the library had been her place.
Lucius chuckled when he didn't hear a response on the other side. Either she had fallen asleep on her desk again or she's so focused on her work that she didn't hear him.
He cautiously opened the doors to the library and peered around. He almost didn't see her buried under a mountain of parchments and scrolls. Lucius strolled toward her, his footsteps slightly muffled by the thick carpet.
Hermione still hadn't noticed him though so he decided to make his presence known by reaching out and placing a finger under her chin, tilting it up to face him.
"Are you going to bed? You haven't slept since the other day."
She blinked at him a few times. It took her a second to reply, her mind still adrift from work. "What time is it?"
"Nearly midnight."
A slight yawn escaped her lips at the mention of the time. "I'll be there in a minute," she said as she flexed her neck, wincing at the tension.
A soft moan escaped her lips when she felt cold large hands slid down her neck to her shoulders, deftly massaging her aching muscles. She hadn't realized Lucius went over her desk and now stood behind her. "That feels so good."
He pushed her hair over her one shoulder and soon felt his warm lips began to caress her neck. His lips nipped and bit causing a painful but pleasurable pulse against her skin.
His hands traveled lower tracing her collarbone to her chest. A thumb swiped at her taut nipple and Hermione can't help but moan a little louder.
"Lucius," she sighed as she leaned back further against him.
"Shh," he took his hands back and Hermione felt bereft at the loss of contact. "Just relax, my dear, and let me do the work."
Lucius swiveled the chair around to face her. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Hermione leaned into it, sliding her hand along his chiseled jaw and opening him up easily, hot and sweet. He could taste the wine they drank earlier and a hint of chocolate. The mixture was intoxicating.
He could feel her hands then, roaming, going down from his jaw to the dent on his trousers.
Lucius pulled his lips away from hers and grabbed her wrist. No, tonight was all about her.
And so he slid, down onto the floor between her thighs, let her hook one of her legs over his shoulder, stiletto heel sliding down his back with a lowly audible scrape. His hands traveled from her calves and stopped to her thighs. Lucius then looked up to his wife, her eyes glazed, pupils dilated that made her eye color looked black.
"Take it off," she ordered.
Lucius grinned, slowly, his lips drawing back across bared teeth. "Of course," he murmured. Her skirt zips in the back and he slid his hands underneath her to find the zipper, watched her squirm as she tried to play it cool. He took his time sliding it down her legs, folded it carefully, and laid it across her desk. Her hands had drifted up to the buttons on her blouse, but she doesn't undo all of them, only the top three.
Hermione whined, feeling overwhelmed already. Lucius peeled her knickers off slowly, letting out a soft grunt at the sight of her cunt. He pressed her thighs apart and took a while stroking the insides of her thighs, teasing her, mouthing at her hips and the soft skin above her mound so that her cunt clenched and her limbs twitched.
He parted her folds with his hands and slid his thumb softly down. "Gorgeous," he said as his eyes flicked between her cunt and her face, and she squirmed and clutched the armrests. He smeared her slick around with his thumb, circled her clit slowly and gently, and then leaned forward to lick it with little flicks of his tongue.
And when she came with a moan, hand clutching the back of his head, he smoothed his hands up the outsides of her thighs, her hips, and her sides, intensifying the feeling so that her back bowed on the chair and she whimpered.
He stroked a hand across her trembling stomach and watched her as she came down.
"Don't you want to come?" she gasped eventually.
"I don't need to," he said. His face was flushed and his hair was slightly tousled. Lucius waved a hand and her skirt was back firmly in place. "Now, are you going to bed?"
She gave him an embarrassed smile. "I don't think I can stand."
"Well, in that case…" he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom.
"This reminds me of our wedding," his wife said through half-lidded eyes. He could tell she was already falling asleep. "Thank you, Lucius."
"My pleasure," Lucius said as he laid her across the bed. Hermione was already half asleep although she was trying her hardest to stay awake. He pressed a chaste kiss on her left hand and soon climbed the bed, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Sweet dreams, my dear."
A soft hum of appreciation was the last thing Lucius heard before sleep overtook him.