This just keeps coming. I hope you enjoy! I wanted to get this up tonight, but I'll read through for edits in the morning. Review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks so much to everyone who has read so far.
"Mione, I don't know why you're in such a strop," Ron said with a red face as he raced after the girl.
"You embarrassed me, Ronald!" she replied, storming towards the Burrow's apparition point.
"Everything I said was true!"
Hermione stopped and turned around.
"I don't need cleaning tips from your mother, and if I did, a full family dinner wouldn't be the place I asked for them!"
"You're the one who's been complaining about cleaning tables! Maybe it's time to look for another job," Ron replied. Hermione couldn't help the repulsion she'd begun to feel towards the redhead since graduating, his boyish charm morphing into pureblood stupidity.
"Not that you've asked once about my search for employment, but I've accepted another job!"
Ron smiled dopily. "That's great, Mione! Where at?"
"The Ministry," she sniffed haughtily, eyes looking towards the apparition point. All she wanted was to curl up with her cat in her too small, too damp flat.
The redhead curled his lips. "You'd rather clean the Ministry than Magique? I didn't figure you'd want Malfoy and the likes to see you cleaning up after them every day."
Hermione flushed with rage and embarrassment, "I'm not doing janitorial work at the Ministry, Ronald! Contact me when you've gained an ounce of empathy."
The muggleborn let out a shriek of rage when she landed in her disgusting flat, wanting to curse Ron Weasley until there was nothing left of him.
She looked down at a meowing Crookshanks, the half-kneazle laying on the threadbare couch with slow blinking eyes.
"Are you hungry, Crooksie?" Hermione cooed. The cat looked at her as judgmentally as one could. "I was just asking, no need to be a prick about it."
The cat had started to hunt his own food after Hermione graduated from Hogwarts. The orange fur ball loathed the low-quality food that she purchased, unable to cook him extravagant meals like the Hogwarts elves.
Hermione's anger abated as she thought about the new job she'd be starting tomorrow. Her contract looked standard, and Deputy Minister Riddle seemed genuinely upset he couldn't offer her a higher salary. The muggleborn had enough pride not to share that she'd been earning 12 galleons a week and simply thanked the man for his kind words.
Tom Riddle's reputation preceded him, and Hermione couldn't help but anticipate what she'd learn from the man. It'd been five months since she left Hogwarts, and there was no doubt that the wizarding bubble she'd been dropped in at 11 had popped resoundingly.
She couldn't help but feel hurt by the gentle placations of Professor McGonogall via owl, a woman who'd told her for years that she could do anything she set her mind to. Every adult who'd smiled at her and told her she'd one day be Minister was resentfully burned into her mind; they all knew that she'd amount to nothing in their world. Not even Harry's mother, the only mildly successful muggleborn witch that she knew of would give her the time of day. She felt childish while wallowing in her dejection, but tomorrow… tomorrow was a new day. She wouldn't let Deputy Minister Riddle down.
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"Good morning, Miss Granger," the man said as he walked into his suite of offices at 9:01am.
"Good morning, sir," Hermione replied with an eager smile, quills and parchment already arranged perfectly on her desk. "The Prophet and Sentinel are on your desk as well as a mug of hot water with a half lemon. The cart witch said that's your preferred order."
Tom raised an impressed eyebrow that had Hermione blushing slightly.
"Very well, thank you Miss Granger. I find that a mug of hot water with lemon keeps my voice from going after speaking in meetings all day. Let's go over a few items to start the day."
Hermione followed the man after grabbing her planner and a quill, stomach tightening at the chance of either making an impression or failing. She could do this.
"What's this?" Tom asked, eyes on the coiled book she held in her hands.
"It's called a planner, sir. It's a muggle invention- we don't seem to have a wizarding alternative to keeping daily tasks sorted, so I've continued to use these. I can use parchment if you'd like, sir."
"Interesting. Whatever keeps you organized suits me, Miss Granger. A consequence of keeping Miss Brown far away from my schedule meant I sabotaged myself and filled my day with back-to-back meetings. You'll attend all of my meetings to take notes, but staff isn't allowed in our daily department heads meeting with the minister. You'll sort incoming correspondence and dictate the schedule during this time."
"Yes, sir," Hermione said, already taking notes. "How do you currently track your schedule?"
Tom laughed lightly, "An eidetic memory, not that that's conducive to sharing my schedule with you. I'd like if you could present alternatives to me by the end of the week. I know the administrative parts of this job are not desirable, but they are necessary."
Hermione shook her head, "You don't have to downplay the role, sir. I'm grateful for it. The better your organizational skills, the easier it is to achieve your aims and keep you focused."
"Quite right, Hermione. Come along now, we have a meeting with Head Auror Potter. He seems to have a problem with alcohol legislation we passed last year."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, but remained quiet. James Potter, her friend Harry's father, was a man who seemed to cast a stone at everyone but himself and his own. Hermione was interested to see what came of this meeting.
The girl couldn't help but inwardly shrink at the eyes that followed her and Deputy Minister throughout the Ministry. The man was dressed in perfectly fitting robes while she was in secondhand black robes that she had to remind herself not to pull on. The man looked like a Greek god, with articles constantly being placed in Witch Weekly on his good looks and unrivaled mind, but Hermione… she was underweight and looked like she'd been bound in a dark cellar for a few weeks. The judging stares only served to make her feel even more unworthy of the role. She was grateful that she had her intelligence; it was the only way she could prove their notion of her worth wrong. A fire burned inside of her wanting to do just that.
"Deputy Minister Riddle, welcome. Head Auror Potter is waiting for you," Roger Davies said with a smarmy look, standing up from his desk as though he were more than a glorified people mover. "May I get you a beverage?"
"No. Miss Granger, would you like something?" the man asked, ignoring the way the desk auror stiffened at being asked to serve the muggleborn.
"I'm set as well, thank you sir." Hermione replied, not turning to look at the former Ravenclaw.
"Miss, I can show you to our waiting area," the man said, drawing an icy glare from Tom that made the unworthy feeling in Hermione's stomach thaw just a bit.
"If I required a waiting area for Miss Granger, I would've requested one. Now we're late, if you could show me to Head Auror Potter's office."
"Of course, sir," the suitably chastened brunet replied quietly as he sped walked over to a heavy wood door and knocked once before opening.
"Ah, Tom! Come in," James Potter's voice called.
"Head Auror Potter," Tom replied, holding the door open for Hermione as she walked into the room. The girl didn't let the man's professional greeting go unnoticed. She'd never seen Tom with Mr. Potter's normal crowd, and this allowed her to paint a better mental story of the man's relationships.
"Hermione?" the bespectacled man asked with a confused expression. The girl was grateful to have Tom chime in once again on her behalf and promised to think through the fluttery feeling she now knew came when the man took care of her.
"Ah, you already know Miss Granger. I'm glad to have her on board as my assistant."
The Potter man's face went through a range of emotions before he landed on surprisingly pleased.
"Last I knew you were working janitorial at Magique. I'm sure you'll find this much more suitable. Good for you, girl."
Hermione looked down with a blush, knowing she'd cry or scream if she tried to speak. She missed Tom's eyes flashing in anger as she avoided eye contact with anyone while shuffling into the room.
"How can I help you today?" Tom asked as he sat down.
"Last March, you championed the measure to lower the drinking age in the Wizengamot. On behalf of the DMLE, we ask that you think about leading a charge to overturn the measure."
Hermione kept her quill poised over parchment, but waited to hear Tom speak before beginning to write. After reading as much as she had about the man, she was eager to see his presence in the room where it happened.
"Why?"
James swallowed before glancing down at the parchment in front of him. From her vantage point, Hermione could tell it was covered in talking points and statistics. "In the 20 months since this legislation was passed, there has been a 43 percent uptick in aurors called to Hogsmeade during the school year. 31 percent of inebriated witches and wizards stopped by our aurors across the country are 17-years-old. 31 percent compared to being .5 percent of our population."
"What, pray tell, does the DMLE think a year difference would make?" Tom asked, legs casually crossed as he stared at the man.
"They'll be out of Hogwarts and have joined the workforce at 18. We believe they'll feel the duty to act responsibly if their job is on the line."
"Did previous data back this belief up?"
"26 percent of inebriated witches and wizards stopped in 1996 were 18."
"So a statistical difference that falls within a reasonable margin of error is cause to overturn legislation that provides legal adults the right to drink?"
The man's face turned red much like Hermione had seen Harry's do countless times over the years.
"Hermione's a muggle, tell him! Americans are adults at 18 and can't drink until 21 because their government doesn't trust them."
The girl coughed, "Pardon me, sir, but I'm not a muggle. I'm a witch. And actually, MACUSA followed our MoM's lead and lowered the drinking age from 21 to 18, which is their coming of age."
James shot his hand out flippantly, "Muggle, muggleborn, you know what I meant. This is all beside the point- I'll have no choice but to raise the issue myself if you don't take the lead, Tom."
The man stood up and Hermione stopped mid-sentence to do the same.
"A pleasure as always," Tom said as he walked out of the man's office without waiting for a reply. He didn't need it, Hermione thought. His point had already been made.
"Welcome to a day in my life, Miss Granger. We're surrounded by fools who survive on little more than ego," Tom said with a dramatic sigh as he sat behind his desk.
"No disrespect to him, sir, but… I would've thought he'd do his research before wasting your time with a meeting."
Tom laughed, a short bark filling the air. "My sweet, you are so innocent yet. Men like James Potter believe the world will yield to them if only for their relative fortune and name value. It's those like us who really hold the cards when our opponents don't even think to pick up their hand."
A knock sounded on the door before Hermione could reply.
"That'd be my next meeting," Tom said as he flicked a hand lazily towards the door. Hermione was surprised to see it immediately open- wandless, nonverbal magic was something she'd only read about.
The girl couldn't help the gasp that left her mouth as a man in the auburn Department of Mysteries robes walked in, his long brown hair tied at the nape of his neck.
Tom smiled indulgently at the girl, feeling more endeared by her with every interaction. It was a foreign feeling he both relished and rejected at the same time.
"Antonin, I'd like you to meet my new assistant, Hermione Granger," Tom said, not standing up to greet his friend.
The girl blushed as the man kissed her knuckles. She'd spent many days at Hogwarts questioning why girls like Lavender and the Patil twins received that very gesture from their classmates, only to have it click one day. Muggleborn.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, kotyonok. My name is Antonin Dolohov."
"I know," Hermione said as her face blushed even darker. "I've read your work."
The man raised an eyebrow, dark brown eyes warming slightly at the girl's admission.
"Yes? Have you read my latest in this month's Spellwork Scientia?"
The girl shook her head, "No, unfortunately I couldn't af- get my hands on it."
The Russian ignored her slip of tongue. "I'll have it sent down here, and we'll discuss if Tom decides to give you a lunch break in the near future."
"Ah, it's only Miss Granger's first day. Let's not scare her off, Antonin. After all, she's the first person to tie my N.E.W.T results; we're lucky to have a mind like hers on our side."
Hermione didn't miss that comment. "What are you working on together?"
"In good time, Miss Granger. In good time," Tom said with a smirk before sending the girl to her desk.
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"Word is that you've hired a new secretary, Tom," Lucius said with a small smirk.
"Asinine gossip sometimes holds truth, Lucius," Tom replied.
Draco raised his eyebrows as he shared a look with Theo.
"You really hired Granger?" Draco asked, sharing his father's inability to keep a question to himself and believe his way of vaguely asking precluded him from plebeian nosiness.
"Miss Granger," Tom replied in chastisement. "If you're speaking of Miss Hermione Granger, then yes. She's been in my employ for a week, but I've been quite pleased with her work."
"I'm glad to hear that a few months of working like a house elf doesn't erase a mind like hers," Theo mused.
"Whatever do you mean, Theodore?" Narcissa asked, daintily cutting her asparagus.
"Hermione Granger, the muggleborn from our year, wasn't able to find a job. We saw her scrubbing toilets like a house elf under punishment in Diagon Alley."
Narcissa and Bellatrix breathed in, similarly horrified.
"That's the girl who beat your marks, my dragon?"
The boy blushed, "Yes, mother."
"Why wouldn't her parents pull her back into the muggle world? I wouldn't think them that depraved to allow their daughter to suffer so," Bellatrix said with a pout, reaching a hand out to her husband Rodolphus for comfort.
"I'm not sure, Aunt Bella," Draco replied. "Her parents, her friends… it seems like she was all alone."
"Dumbledore seems to be upping his claim on morally abhorrent actions toward our kind," Rabastan offered with the roll of his eyes.
"Tom," Bellatrix replied. "Find out who her magical guardian is. Of age or not, someone needs to be held accountable."
"Already on it, Bella."
"Is she amenable to our cause?" Rodolphus asked after swallowing a bite of steak, already cutting into the next piece.
"I don't think five days of interaction is enough to indicate that, Rodolphus," Tom replied shortly, causing the man to mutter an apology. "In the meantime, however, I'd like to learn more about her. Draco, Theo, I expect a report on her current living conditions and relationships by the end of the week."
"Yes, sir," the young pair replied simultaneously.
"Theo, I'd also like your betrothed to befriend Miss Granger by whatever means necessary."
Theo bit his tongue thinking of Gryffindor's general dislike of Pansy Parkinson. "Of course, sir. It's an honor to serve you."
Tom nodded from the head of the table, pleased as always to see his pawns fall into place without needing to raise his wand.
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Hermione jumped at the knock sounding on her office door, thankful for the years of reflexes that kept her from smearing ink across her parchment.
"Didn't mean to cause a fright, Granger," Pansy Parkinson said as she walked into the room, caramel color skin glowing against her trendy lilac robes.
"No worries, Miss Parkinson," Hermione replied with a small smile. "How may I help you?"
"Drop the formalities, girl. Call me Pansy."
"Pansy," Hermione started again, tone marginally warmer towards a girl she'd spoken to only a handful of times in her life. "Can I assist you with something?"
"A place to rest my feet," Pansy said as she sat on the leather couch in the front office. "Cute they may be, these turn my feet into bloody pulp everytime I wear them."
Hermione grimaced, "There's a muggle saying that beauty is pain. So… at least you look good?"
Pansy laughed and relaxed into the furniture. "I bloody better look beautiful when I'm risking life and limb for it. When'd you start here, Granger?"
"Hermione, please. Three weeks ago," the girl replied with a shy smile. Pansy wanted to coo at the girl's proud expression.
"I think you're the only person who could last more than a day without Riddle tearing you into tiny, tear-soaked pieces."
Hermione let out a surprised laugh. "Deputy Minister Riddle is a brilliant man. I'm grateful to have the opportunity to serve him."
Pansy squinted her eyes at the girl in a way that Hermione had become intimately familiar with in school. It was a refrain that always left her feeling more useless than a rotten flobberworm.
"You're brilliant, but."
Hair. Body. Clothes. Teeth. Skin. Her mind was never enough.
"You look peaky, Hermione. Are you not taking lunch?"
Hermione swallowed her indignance at being questioned by the girl. "I'm taking lunch, Pansy. I appreciate your concern."
The other girl rolled her hazel eyes and smirked. "Us girls got to stick together, right? Leave it to men and you'll be a pile of bones on the ground before they notice something's wrong."
Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking of the obliviousness and lack of care that characterized Ron and Harry. "Absolutely right. Unless it's their own ailment, then the entire world will be forced to weep alongside them."
"Babies, the lot of them. Speaking of, any idea when Riddle's meeting will end? Theo's promised to take me shopping."
"It should end any time now. They're in the adjacent conference room, but left their cloaks and such in here."
"Thank you, I'll wait here if you don't mind. If you do mind, I'll still wait here though."
Hermione cracked a smile, "I don't mind. Theodore Nott? You're engaged, right?"
"Betrothed," Pansy corrected with a small shake of her head. "Silly word, isn't it? I like the sound of an engagement better, it's much more romantic when there's free will in the process."
"You don't want to marry Theodore?" Hermione questioned.
"Oh, I do now. 12-year-old Pansy wasn't too keen on the idea, but a few trips to his Grecian summer home and things were right sorted."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, perpetually shocked by the exorbitant wealth and lavishness that some of her fellows were born into.
"I'm glad to hear you're in a place of acceptance now."
Pansy's reply was cut off by the sound of men laughing and footsteps moving towards them.
"Pans? What are you doing here?" Theodore asked quietly, pulling the leggy brunette up with a gallantly offered hand.
"I recall you promising to take me to lunch, dear," Pansy said with a smirk that had all of the men stepping away. They had all grown up with the young Miss Parkinson, and knew that Theo had his hands full with his bride. Draco thanked the day that had seen his parents not betrothing him to the girl.
Theo smiled patiently, "I was heading to get you after this meeting."
Pansy flipped a hand, "No skin off, I got to catch up with Riddle's newest gatekeeper. Lucky man you are, Deputy Minister. The girl who caused Draco to set half the common room on fire our fifth year."
The small office was filled with the amused looks of multiple Wizengamot members and a red-faced Draco.
"It was once, Pansy! Potions was my subject, I didn't expect my uncle to give someone else a better grade than me."
Hermione arched an eyebrow, unable to keep her mouth shut. "I'm glad to see that one leadership figure believes in meritocracy."
The deputy minister let out a bark of laughter, "Quite right, Miss Granger. Severus would never be encumbered by matters of the heart over talent."
Draco glowered, but kept his mouth shut.
"Speaking of talent, be sure to introduce yourself to my assistant, Miss Granger on the way out if you haven't met her yet. Greatness is surely in her path."
Hermione blushed slightly at the praise, stomach fluttering from the words and smile of the attractive and powerful older man as he walked into his office and shut the door.
The girl smiled politely as Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy, Thaddeus Nott, Rodolphus Lestrange and Jorund Rowle introduced themselves and pressed chaste kisses to her knuckles. She'd heard about all of the men in passing, all of them being regular faces in the Wizengamot except for Lucius, the head of Hogwarts' Board of Governors.
"We'll have to have you over to the manor," Lucius said with more kindness than Hermione thought a Malfoy was capable of. "Our laboratory was updated by Severus and I'm sure he'd enjoy giving you a tour.
"I'd enjoy that, sir," Hermione said, knowing that the ask was a pleasantry rather than an actual invitation.
"Look out for an owl," the man said with the bow of his head.
"Sames," Pansy said with a wink. Hermione couldn't help but think of her as a high-class version of a Pink Lady from Grease. "Daphne's already gone to France for the hols, I need a shopping companion."
"Theodore not up to snuff?" Hermione asked with a raised brow, drawing a snort from Draco and amused glances from the wealthy men. It was clear the girl wasn't aware of how their wives and daughters went wild while shopping.
Theo cut in, "I'd be honored if you accompanied my Pansy, Hermione. Your purchases would be on the Notts, of course."
Pansy scoffed, "We aren't even married and you're already using bribery to get out of shopping."
Thaddeus Nott nodded, his long grey ponytail moving along with his head. "Pansy, dear, take it from us old men. Take the galleons and spend them; don't question the boy."
The men were all amused at how easily Pansy was rising to Tom's task, leaving the curly-haired muggleborn none the wiser.
"Shopping, Granger. Look for my owl," Pansy said with a wink before taking Theo's hand and pulling him from the office.
"I am forever grateful for whatever brain cell of yours kept you from linking me to Pansy, father," Draco said with the shake of his head, a small, fond smile on his lips.
"Thank your mother for that, Draco. On that note, if any of you have a suitable option for the boy, send me an owl," Abraxas Malfoy said, the man barely looking older than his own son.
Hermione regarded the Malfoy man's expression, surprised to see that his eyes were light with humor rather than angry.
That gave her confidence to speak up with a small smile of her own, "Lord Malfoy, sir, I know of a friend who's quite pleased by the creature cruelty legislation you championed earlier this year. Luna Lovegood."
The man looked at Hermione curiously, "Xenophilius' girl, hm. Interesting thinking, Miss Granger."
Draco looked contemplative rather than angry, something that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room.
Hermione's wand buzzed, signifying a five minute warning before their next meeting.
"Of course, sir. She's a dear friend and a good match. Malfoy needs someone to keep him on his toes."
"Got him in one," Lucius said with a smirk. "Looks like your next meeting will begin soon, we'll take our leave. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger."
Hermione nodded, feeling satisfied by the approval of some of the most influential men in their world.
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Being the right hand woman for the Deputy Minister was exhilarating. Hermione had always absorbed knowledge like a sponge and felt lucky to know more than the average person. Her confidentiality was one of the reasons that she was so well-suited for the job; she was a sounding board for the Deputy Minister, but nothing she learned from him would ever be shared.
Five weeks in and she'd noted some rather interesting patterns and interactions that took place in the presence of Deputy Minister Riddle.
The first, of course, being the deferential way that many of the most notorious and powerful families in their world treated the man. From the Malfoys to the Greengrasses, members of the Wizengamot sought him out and didn't dare to step past the lines he drew.
The introduction of Tiberius Ogden's alcohol import bill? Postponed after Tom took issue with a small provision.
What should've been a close vote on Gideon Prewett's bill to accept auror trainees who'd received only an acceptable in one of the five required N.E. ? Rejected by a supermajority after Tom whipped votes the day before.
Today, Hermione found herself squashed in a lift with Charlus Potter and Arthur Weasley, the former talking merrily about the bill he planned to introduce later that day to raise the drinking age back to 18. It took all the girl had to keep her mouth shut, knowing exactly how angry her boss would be when he found out.
"Sir," Hermione said breathlessly as she walked into the office, one of the few days where Tom arrived ahead of her.
"Is something the matter, my sweet?" Tom asked, standing up with a concerned look on his face.
"Yes, sir," the girl said, sitting down in the chair across from Tom to regain her breathing. "I was just in the lift with Lord Potter, and he said that he was introducing legislation today to raise the drinking age back to 18."
Tom's dark eyes turned colder than Hermione had ever seen, and her stomach immediately turned to ice.
"Who was he talking to, Hermione?" Tom asked, the girl barely noticing that the man called her by her first name.
"Mis- Arthur Weasley, sir. I didn't recognize anyone else on the lift with us," Hermione said.
"Did they see you, sweet girl?" Tom asked, starting to stand up and button his formal outer robes.
"No, sir. I was in the back corner, they couldn't see me."
"Very well," Tom replied with a soft smile. "You've done well, sharing this with me. Please go down to the Wizengamot suites and fetch Yaxley, Malfoy, Rowle and Nott, my dear. Make haste."
"Right away, sir," Hermione said with a nod as she rushed out of the room, cursing the black heels she wore. Pansy Parkinson was a menace, she'd found out rather quickly. A menace who'd upped her style and funded the venture to boot.
"Granger?" Draco asked, manning the desk in front of his grandfather's office. Hermione was interested to find out that many purebloods served as assistants for their relatives, learning the ins and outs of the Wizengamot before one day serving on it themselves. She grew to respect the boy more because of it, learning that he was more than what she'd assumed at Hogwarts.
"Draco," she said, brushing her hair off her forehead. "Lord Malfoy is needed in the Deputy Minister's office immediately."
The boy's eyes opened wide, but he didn't ask questions as he grabbed his grandfather.
Hermione was surprised when Tom asked her to step into the heavily warded conference room, the girl taking a seat along the wall with Draco and Theodore.
"Hermione, my dear, please share what you overheard," Tom directed from the head of the conference room table.
The reactions were par for the course, as far as she was concerned.
"Bones, MacMillan, Shafiq and Slughorn should be easy to whip on this. We'd only need one more to scrap the bill," Abraxas mused.
"No need, Abraxas. We'll let it pass," Tom said, voice calm despite the incredulous stares he received.
"Sir… is this wise? Potter is making a blatant move against you," Corban Yaxley replied, the attractive man's dark blond ponytail thrown carelessly over his shoulder.
"James Potter will learn exactly what happens to those who ignore my will. Fear not, my friends," Tom replied. "You'll vote against the bill and not comment to the press afterwards. Now get out before someone sees us."
"Yessir," the group answered, everyone but Hermione filing out.
Hermione's heart beat quickly at the intense look on Tom's face, the man's jaw even sharper than normal due to the way he was clenching it.
"Buckle up, my dear," the man said with a dark smile. Hermione felt no fear at the expression or from the man in front of her. "The road is about to get bumpy."
"Hermione," Tom called from his office, deep voice muffled behind the door.
"Sir," Hermione said with a smile as she walked in, taking a seat in front of him.
"Jorund is pleased with your additions to the international trading omnibus," the man said with an approving look. "I hate to ask, but I am in need of a favor."
"Anything, sir." Hermione replied with wide, innocent eyes. Not for the first time, the man found himself needing to adjust his robes to hide his growing erection at the girl's easy, casual submission.
"You'll go to dinner tonight in Diagon Alley with Draco, Theodore and Pansy and grab a drink afterwards."
Hermione shifted slightly, "Tonight, sir? I had plans with my friends."
"Tonight, Hermione. Draco will be up shortly with details," Tom replied, voice colder than she was used to. "Finish the letter to the German Minister, I want it out by 11."
"Of course, sir," she replied shakily, feeling more like a 20-year-old than ever. As she worked furiously on the letter, all she could think was that she never wanted to give Tom reason to use that voice with her again.
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"Pretend you like Draco as we walk out," Pansy directed, a small smile already plastered on her face.
Hermione shook her head, eyes wide as she tried to understand what Pansy meant. Draco made it easier by wrapping her cloak around her and buttoning the front as though he were more of a dalliance than a budding friend.
"Your arm, my lady," Draco said with a smile, winking at Hermione as she linked hers with his own. "Watch for the cameras, your boss would kill me if you broke an ankle. It's bloody cold for February."
Hermione was grateful for the warning, snarky as it may be, only having experienced the joys of reporters while tagging after the Deputy Minister at work.
The girl didn't expect the group to step foot into the Leaky Cauldron, but the Fae, an aptly named bar that served freely given fairy wine from the south of Sweden… she couldn't afford one drink without tanking her rent for the month. Not that Draco had made her pay for dinner, but this was different, more casual.
The group was shown to a private table by a house elf immediately, passing a crowd of people scouting out the bar for seats to open up.
Hermione gulped as she looked at the menu, the lowest price being a 79 galleon glass of mulled cranberry and fairy wine.
"Hello misses and masters," a pink house elf squeaked happily, a pepto bismol pink sequined skirt around her hips. "I is being Madonna, may I bring you drinks?"
Hermione hid a giggle at the elf's name while the others shot it perturbed looks.
"I like your name," the muggleborn said sweetly, "I think it suits you well. Just a water for me, please."
The elf beamed, "Thank you, miss. A customer is bringing me the TV machine and I is loving it!"
"A round of water while we look at the menu, Zaldona," Pansy said, breaking up the conversation.
"Right away, miss!" the elf replied, not mentioning the way the girl butchered her name.
"Since we drank white with dinner, I'm thinking a bottle of the Kalmar berry," Pansy said with a perfectly manicured finger tapping her red-stained bottom lip. "That work?"
"I'll stick to water," Hermione said with a small, nonchalant smile that the trio didn't buy.
"Granger," Pansy said quietly, eyes more sober than Hermione was used to. "Theo's dad owns this place, we aren't paying for shit."
Hermione blushed and looked down in shame. Being the poor friend was not something she enjoyed.
"Clearly the poor weasel had you paying for everything and disgracing the age-old chivalry that wizards are supposed to display, little one, but get used to it. You're stuck with us, and that means that you'll never pay for anything again. Quit your crying and accept it," Draco said with a scoff.
"You have a way with words, Draco," Hermione said with the roll of her eyes.
"I've learned over the years that you do best with direct conversation, Hermione. Don't pout, just drink the 2,000 galleon wine."
The girl groaned, but took a sip of the wine when it came. She had no idea what a 2,000 galleon bottle of wine should taste like, but the lightness in her head after a single glass was welcome.
They left after two bottles, and Hermione giggled as she leaned into Draco's side.
"Let's go here every night," the girl said, frustrated with the difficulty it took to speak. "Especially if Theo's paying."
"That's the spirit!" Pansy crowed, yanking Theo down to press a kiss to his cheek.
"Never find a bird, Draco," Theo said, voice much clearer than that of the two girls. "They'll milk you for all you're worth."
"Money is all you're worth, my love," Pansy coed with a wicked smile on her still perfectly drawn lips, drawing an astonished bark of laughter from Hermione. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Luna doesn't care about money," Hermione said, pushing the girl on Draco again. "You've got to take her out for a spin after she's back from... wherever she is. The Amazon, I think.
"We'll see," Draco replied indulgently.
Hermione flinched at the scream that came from a ways away, where she knew the entrance of the alley to be. Draco pulled her tighter to his side, holding his wand tightly in his hand.
"What's going on?" the muggleborn asked quietly, grateful for the security of the deceivingly muscular man.
"We'll see in a moment," Draco replied as they followed a crowd closer to the Leaky Cauldron where the action seemed to be occurring.
"Harry?" Hermione said as they finally laid eyes on the scene in front of them. Her black-haired friend was on the ground, an auror putting silver handcuffs on him while another physically wrestled his wand from where it was smashed against the cobblestone underneath his left hip. Hermione knew it had to be bad for the officer to be putting physical handcuffs on the boy instead of casting an incarcerous curse on him.
"Oh great, the princess is here," the boy slurred, shaking his head as much as the tight hold on him would allow.
"What's going on?" she asked, frustrated when Draco wouldn't allow her to get closer.
"Some tosser took my napkin, not that you'd care."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked bitterly, voice rising with her words.
"You forgot us, Mione. You think you're gold now, but you're still mud. We loved you from the start, you were ours," Harry said, voice amplifying as he was forced to stand up from the cobblestone.
Hermione felt angry tears build, well aware of the fact that the whole of those out on the town that night had heard the comments of her first friend.
"Be the innocent victim," Draco whispered so softly she almost missed it over the affronted gasps that echoed in the alley. "Now."
"Really, Harry?" the girl asked on autopilot, not having to fake the tearful tremor in her voice. "You're going to act like I'm nothing more than some pet mudblood to you?"
The boy looked over his shoulder as he was dragged to the apparition point by two aurors, clearly too drunk to care about the flash of a camera.
"I'm the one who paid for your PP when you were scrubbing toilets and couldn't buy your own. Sounds like a pet to me!"
Hermione turned into Draco's chest at that, unable to stop sobbing.
Draco had to hide his smiles at the anger and pity their girl was drawing, the crowd clearing for the quartet immediately.
"Hold on to me, little one," Draco murmured as he apparated to the manor.
"Draco, darling? What's happened?" Narcissa asked, the woman standing up from where she was curled on the couch with a book. Bellatrix was there as well, the Lestrange couple preferring to spend the night rather than coming back for breakfast in the morning.
"Fucking Potter," Pansy spat as she walked through the Floo, shaking her head. She had been warned that they needed to be seen out tonight, but had no idea what for. Now she did, though she wasn't sure of the point.
"Missy!" Narcissa said, an elf immediately popping in. "Tea and blankets, now."
"C'mere, let's get you on the couch," Draco said, walking the girl over to the couch. She immediately put her head into Pansy's shoulder, taking comfort in the normally stoic girl's kindness. Narcissa took note of the way her son removed the muggleborn's heels, noting that it was with a platonic, respectful reverence. She had questions.
"I'm impatiently waiting," Bellatrix said, pushing her own mane of black curls back from her face. "What happened?"
"Harry Potter was arrested for whatever reason, and we walked up on it," Theo narrated, his eyes remaining on his fiance and Hermione. "He had some choice words for our Hermione as he was being apparated out."
"Oh dear," Narcissa said. "I'll return in a moment."
The room was quiet except for the slowing sobs of Hermione.
Abraxas, Lucius and Rodolphus walked into the sitting room, all of their expressions alert and sober despite the late hour. Pansy catalogued that as another sign that there were plans she wasn't being brought in on.
"Hermione, sweet girl," Abraxas said as he knelt down next to the girl and grabbed her hand. The man felt grandfatherly towards the young girl after only months of knowing her, always bitter that Narcissa and Lucius hadn't given him one of their own. "You're okay now."
"I'm so embarrassed," the girl sniffled, removing her face from Pansy's shoulder. Bellatrix gently cast a cleaning spell towards her face, knowing from experience how difficult it was to get dried mascara off your face.
"What'd he say to you?" Abraxas asked, taking a small hand into his own.
"I can't say," Hermione answered honestly, shaking her head.
"We need to know, gal," Rodolphus replied gruffly, completely unaware of how to handle a crying girl. His wife was not one for soft emotions, and she was his bellwether for all things women.
Pansy spoke up after Hermione nudged her shoulder.
"Shocking drivel for holier than thou Potter. He called her mud playing at gold and let the whole of the world know that he purchased Hermione's PP while she was working at Magique, somehow rendering her his pet mudblood."
Jaws clenched around the room, but Lucius only smirked. He couldn't wait for Tom to do what he did best: play the outraged moral leader.
Narcissa gasped daintily, "Oh, sweetheart. We're so sorry. Let's get you in a bath and in bed for a good night's sleep. We'll make a room up for you."
"My cat," Hermione said after a few moments, eyes pitifully red. "I can't leave him."
"I'll grab the beast," Pansy said with a playful roll of her eyes. "The elves will feed him until he's comatose then we won't have to deal with him terrorizing the masses."
Hermione laughed at that, pulling Pansy into a hug.
"Why did I become friends with a hugger, I ask myself," Pansy muttered as she stepped into the Floo with Theo and called out Hermione's flat.
"Boys, shoo," Narcissa said with the decisive clap of her hands. "Bella and I have Hermione sorted. We'll see you at breakfast."
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Hermione wished that she was in a better place to enjoy the 50 tap tub in her guest room and the cool, high-count cotton sheets in the bed she now rested in. She fell asleep wondering what Tom would say when he found out, if he'd defend her in the way he fought for so many others day in and day out at the Ministry.
"Tom, long time no see," Abraxas said as the man stepped through the Floo, only having sent him home a few short hours ago.
"Brax," Tom greeted with a tight nod, dragonhide shoes clicking along as he walked towards the formal dining room.
The brunet was grateful for his luck, intercepting Hermione as a tiny old elf guided her down the stairs.
"Miss Granger," Tom said with a smile. "I didn't know I'd be seeing you here."
Hermione smiled weakly, curls buoyant and clean despite the slight bags on her makeup free face. The man had studied her enough to be able to tell she had been crying recently and couldn't help but feel a slight tide of guilt rise in him at knowing he'd caused her pain. He shoved it down as soon as he felt it; he knew she'd understand eventually.
"Deputy Minister Riddle, are you here for breakfast?" Hermione continued at his nod, accepting his proffered arm as he met her at the bottom of the stairs. "I hadn't realized it was such an affair."
"Saturday breakfast at Malfoy Manor is a tradition I've partaken in since Lucius and I were at Hogwarts," Tom said with a smile. "Nothing's changed besides cutting back on the hashbrowns, they seem to stick on my bones the older I get."
"I can't tell, sir," Hermione offered immediately, blushing as she realized the flirtiness her words held. The man was her boss! She needed to tamp her attraction down as much as was possible.
"Very kind, Miss Granger, if not true." Tom said with a wink, enjoying the comfortability that silent moments with the girl always brought.
"Good morning, you two," Narcissa said as the pair walked into the almost full room, everyone now seated including Abraxas at the table's head. Hermione couldn't help but notice the woman was perfectly coiffed despite the early hour and deigned to ask for tips. She was sure the woman would love the mixture of a compliment and a chance to teach.
"Morning, Narcissa," Tom replied. "A sizable crowd this morning."
"We're lucky to have Hermione with us for the first time," Narcissa smiled. "I'm happy to meet the woman I've heard so much about."
"Only the best as my assistant," Tom said as he pulled out one of two empty chairs for her and pushed it in behind her. The man sat down to Abraxas' left, Hermione immediately next to him. It was a statement that no one with eyes to see and a mind to understand missed.
Breakfast was a fine, if opulent, affair, Hermione discovered.
"Oh no," the girl squeaked when an elf popped in halfway through the meal, a stack of papers in its hands. She knocked her tea all over the white of the table cloth that looked like it cost more than her entirety of kitchen appliances. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't fret, dear. Zippet," Narcissa called, an elf immediately walking over to clean the spill and pour her another perfect cup of tea.
"Best to get it over with, dear." Abraxas said gently.
"What am I missing?" Tom asked with a raised brow, playing his part perfectly.
"There was an… incident last night while we were grabbing dinner. Ended with Potter getting arrested, but Hermione's face is likely plastered in the papers," Pansy offered blandly, receiving disproving looks for her lack of tact. "What? I summarized, no one asked for editorial commentary."
"That's why we love you, my petal," Theo replied, smacking a kiss onto the girl's hand.
Tom held a hand out expectantly, eyes poring over the front page of the paper. He was grateful to see his girl's heartbroken face on the front page, the stumbling, sneering form of Harry Potter a stark contrast to her perfect innocence. He felt himself stiffening in his pants at the girl's tearful expression and had to shift to read the text.
POTTER HEIR'S BIG BREAK OR A MENTAL BREAK?
Just months after becoming the only newly graduated Hogwarts student to be accepted into the streamlined auror training program, Harry Potter was arrested for drunk and disorderly contact at the Leaky Cauldron. According to a witness, an inebriated Potter, son of DMLE's own Head Auror James Potter, hexed an elderly man after the senior grabbed a napkin off the bar. The soon-to-be ex-trainee, as the Prophet has been informed, was then put into handcuffs in the alley.
While checking on her old friend's mental state as he writhed on the cobblestone and resisted arrest, Secretary to Deputy Minister Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger, was tearful as the drunk man threw jabs her way.
"Potter called her a pet mudblood in front of everyone. She was one of his only friends at Hogwarts, you understand," one bystander told the Prophet, shaking her head in disgust. "Then, to make it worse, he shouted that he'd bought her period potions (PP) while she was down and out after graduating as if that was something the world needed to know. What kind of friend is that? But even more who the (expletive) would trust such a shady git as an auror? Not me."
The Prophet continues to follow the story and will have more details on Monday as the Wizengamot returns to session.
"How bad is it?" Hermione asked, face bright red as she stabbed her fork into a perfectly browned piece of potato.
"The world now knows that Saint Potter bought your period potion," Draco offered, drawing a groan from Hermione and a slap on the arm from his aunt. "But really, Hermione. This makes him look like a total racist prick. Just wait until the Prophet asks Tom and members of the Wizengamot for comment."
Hermione looked to her right, staring into Tom's eyes.
"Why will they ask you?"
Tom smiled softly, his smart girl knew so much but was still so naive.
"I'm your boss, my sweet. Why wouldn't they ask me? They'll ask all of us to build their narrative."
"What will you say? What will you all say?" Hermione asked, catching eyes with the men she knew would be questioned in less than 48 hours.
"Trust me," Tom said with a dark smile. "I promised you the Potters would regret crossing me."
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HEAD AUROR POTTER CUTS HIS OWN SON FROM PROGRAM
Wizengamot members share the public's concerns: can we trust the Head Auror's judgment?
Statements from Wizengamot members on this weekend's scandal with the youngest Potter this week were scathing and only led to more questions. The Head Auror spoke to the press yesterday, announcing that he'd cut Harry Potter, his own son, from the DMLE's auror training program. He refused to answer questions on his son's comment to the young Hermione Granger, Secretary to Deputy Minister Tom Riddle, stating that he was only here in his official capacity. Lord Abraxas Malfoy asked the question that's on many of our minds when speaking to the Prophet later in the day: since when is racism against one of our best and brightest something that law enforcement can't speak on in an official capacity?
The Prophet's Rita Skeeter was able to catch up with Deputy Minister Tom Riddle himself and the man was well spoken as always. Read his spoken statement in full below:
"The day I met Hermione Granger, I knew that she had the potential to change wizarding Britain for the better. I am ashamed to see one of our own, especially someone who'd been training to oversee the meting out of justice in our community, be so afflicted by bigotry and the bad sense to speak ill to a lady in public. On a personal level, I'm sickened to know that Miss Granger considered Mr. Potter one of her closest friends.
Just a few short weeks ago, Lord Charlus Potter pushed for legislation to raise the drinking age to 18 in an effort to allegedly combat auror calls for drunk and disorderly behavior that ended up passing into law. As I shared with his son, the Head Auror, in our meeting on this legislation, 18 to 20-year-olds share similar statistics when it comes to being inebriated in public and having auror intervention. Why cripple the hospitality economy to push unnecessary restrictions against of-age witches and wizards? I still don't have an answer. The Potters can now look at their own heir and see firsthand the uselessness of this restrictive bill. It's my hope that the judgment and leadership of both Lord Potter and head Auror Potter will become steadier and more trusted in the weeks ahead."
More tomorrow, readers. Today, rest assured that one potentially reckless auror is off the streets. We at the Prophet are working around the clock to keep you informed and hold your government accountable.
Hermione felt breathless as she finished reading the article, cramped in the single-stall ladies room at the very corner of their floor at the Ministry. Countless questions swirled through her mind, but one made its way to the top… Was she the pawn or was she the player?
I hope you all enjoy! More to come, get ready for the introduction of more beloved characters in the next chapter and some Tomione togetherness :) Please review, your comments keep me going! Stay safe, stay healthy and have a wonderful weekend.